#but i think ascended astarion does still feel emotion

[insurged]

        ❝  i see that you and shadowheart are still together... at least, so far. and i mean it in the most supportive way possible, as friends should. ❞        the light hearted chuckle that escapes from his lips is merely a performance to coat the absolute envy that grips him like a sudden chill gripping his chest. it's incredibly unpleasant and seeps through his silver eyes in a cold gaze that doesn't match the upward curve of his lips as he flashes fangs in a toothy smile.  

❝  do tell me your ( @wistrea ) secret. braiding each other's hair under the starry night ? or perhaps something a tad more rough ? whips and chains, considering her... background... ❞

[pinkberrytea]

Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion.

Memento mori—Remember you must die. Enveloped in memories of her death, the Vampire Ascendant watches his darling consort as she slumbers, lost in dreams of blood and mist. Life is short, and shortly it will end; death comes quickly and respects no one. To death we are hastening, let us refrain from sinning.

An exploration of Astarion’s character and his relationship with his Dark Consort following the ascension, from a softer perspective.

Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav (F!Reader)

w/c: 6.2k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers

a/n: thank you for reading! this is my first time dabbling in creative writing, and of course my first attempt at smut fiction, but still, I hope it is at least somewhat enjoyable. I would like to dedicate this work to the lovely @locallegume, who was a huge source of inspiration, and also to hismostbelovedspawn over on reddit, for being always so incredibly kind and supportive. I love you guys!

tags: blood drinking; cunnilingus; body worship; light dom/sub; vaginal fingering; mildly dubious consent; creampie; fluff & angst; emotional sex; dry humping; possessive behavior; somnophilia; orgasm edging; piv sex

The beginning of the morning twilight is Astarion’s favorite time of the day, for it feels at once ephemeral and infinite. The wistful silence, broken only by the still timid chirping of the waking birds; the royal blue-colored sky, tinged with specks of the purples and violets of the dawn; the chilly morning breeze, gently rustling the flowers in the garden, pushing the still forming dewdrops off their petals and onto the ground; you, slumbering beside him, pale skin reflecting the dim light of the fading moon, rosy lips slightly parted. Sleeping peacefully like this, you look like a life-sized porcelain doll, he thinks—your unmoving chest betrays your otherwise healthy likeness, as does the unnaturally blanched color of your skin. Your nightgown hangs lazily off your shoulder, exposing one of your breasts, and your undergarments lay discarded on the floor, on the exact same spot where he had tossed them earlier that night. He adores this version of you—so vulnerable, so defenseless, laid open for him, and him only.

Astarion finds it curious, how you seem to completely lose yourself in your dreams, yet he is also greatly perturbed by the notion that there is a part of you that he is still unable to access, to dominate. It feels unnatural, not to be able to control this elusive slice of your essence, but having ever only tranced, it also mystifies him that you’d voluntarily give up your consciousness each night. You were after all ever the trusting fool—from the moment you met, he had lied to you, manipulated you countless times, and each time you fell for it, standing by his side even when the world screamed at you not to. And even now, you give yourself to him, unquestioningly, unconditionally. In all the long years of his existence, there had been none like you, and there never will be again. None as trusting, none as kind, and he both hates and loves you for it. The very notion of you extending your kindness to anyone other than him is infuriating, and makes him want to take it for himself, put it in a glass dome and hide it away in a place where only he can bask in its warmth. He thinks he is owed that, at least; yours was the only hand that ever reached out to him, so he is justified in not wanting to share.

You shift slightly in your sleep, and a lock of your hair that had been trapped underneath one of your arms falls onto your chest. After eyeing it for a moment, Astarion reaches out for the tresses and grasps them between his fingers. Bringing them close to his nose, he takes in your scent, that is now also his. It smells comforting, familiar—it smells like home. The corner of his lips curl into an almost imperceptible smile, and he closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. The hushed shroud of the early hours acts as a cloak, under which he is granted a brief respite, a rare chance to let himself be gentle, be kind. Just as you become entirely vulnerable before him in your slumber, he too exposes the soft underbelly of his feelings for you; that chaotic, intoxicating brew, a messy blend of passion, guilt, hurt, longing, and love, endless and unrelenting love.

He brings his elegant fingers close to your face, and ever so gently glides their soft pads across the cold, velvety smooth skin of your cheek. Your long lashes flutter slightly, tickling the sensitive area under your eyes as he lowers the digits to brush the plump of your lips. He admires you for a short moment, taking in your image—his pretty consort, so beautiful, so frail, so foolishly devoted to him. Oh how lucky he is, to have you who would do anything for him by his side; his most precious treasure, the reason why his long dead heart beats inside his chest once more. He grasps your chin, delicately tilting your head upward to face him, and tenderly presses his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your chest, fingers softly caressing the pebbled peak of your exposed breast, his touch so faint that his skin barely comes into contact with yours. As much as Astarion enjoys asserting his dominance over you, making you kneel before him, seeing the dejected yet submissive expression on your pretty face whenever he decides to make a show of his power, it is these moments he values the most. In your intimacy, he may treat you gently, tenderly, and in your state of unconsciousness, by morning his loving touches will be but a hazy memory, securing your place below, but close beside him, from where you shall never leave for as long as he draws breath—which he can now only do thanks to you.

His fingers on your nipple leave it alone for a moment to close around your breast, giving it a soft, gentle squeeze. Moving quietly so as not to wake you, he slides his right leg under yours and presses it against the back of your knee, creating a space between your thighs as he pushes them apart, where he then nests himself, climbing on top of you.

“Astarion…” when you softly whisper his name, his half-smile widens into a grin; how reassuring it is, to know you belong to him even in your dreams. He lowers his head to plant a kiss on the delicate skin of the curve of your neck, and his lips brush against the two small indentations disrupting the otherwise pristine smoothness of your flesh. Instinctively, he brings his hand to the back of your right shoulder, his long fingers blindly searching for the matching set of bite marks. The last of the three pairs adorns your left wrist, for which reason he will ever so often take your hand in his, only to lovingly kiss it and turn it around so he can admire the evidence of his proudest feat—having sired you.

“Oh my love, I’m here. I’ve got you,” Astarion coos, holding your head gently against his bare chest, fingers tangled in your hair as you writhe and squirm in his arms, empty and glassy eyes lost in a hollow stare, seeing nothing but darkness, endless darkness. The expression on your face is at once delirious and vacant—mouth agape and fists clenched, pupils blown wide, eyelashes wet with tears and a thin string of drool coming out from the corner of your lip and trickling down your chin. At least for tonight, you are lost to him, and as he winces at the still foreign sensation of the loud, vigorous throbbing in his head, your own fading heartbeat softens, dying down into nothingness. And right as it is about to fall perpetually silent, he lets his fangs pierce his own tongue, drawing droplets of now living blood; bringing your face close to his, he presses his thumb to your lower lip, and covers your mouth with his.

He loses himself in the memory for a moment, as he so often does. Your peaceful, serene expression stands in stark contrast to the one that had been etched on your face on that fateful night. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet still he remembers the pain, the agony, the relentless fear building up in his stomach as your body contorted and tears glistened in your vacant eyes. Never had Astarion been more afraid of anything than he’d been of losing you, and by his hand no less. Killing you was the sinful culmination of his undying love, and breathing new life into you, a dowry bestowed upon you out of unconditional devotion. You only ever questioned him about what had happened on the evening of your turning once, but it mattered not how many times you asked, for he would never fully disclose the raw truth—how he had cradled you in his arms and whispered sweet nothings in your ears, kissing away your tears; how he had picked you up as you lost consciousness and carried you to your bed, where he would then tuck you in so very tenderly, so very gently, softly patting your hair and holding your hand, sharing his warmth with you as you lost your own; how he would patiently wait by your side, watching as the color slowly drained from your face, his stomach sinking at the thought of you never waking again—only for you to then slowly open your eyes, their hue now a rich crimson, much like his own. No, he would never again allow himself to be so weak, for he was supposed to be your warden, your liege. This pathetic side of him was to be ever hidden from you, only rearing its ugly head during the brief, sleepy moments preceding the crack of dawn.

With his lips still pressed against your skin, Astarion starts peppering kisses down your neck, on the hollows of your collarbone and across your sternum, his hand on your breast fondling it gently, the other still tracing the bite marks on your shoulder. His still clothed hips start lazily, almost imperceptibly rocking back and forth, lightly grinding against your naked thighs; thinking back to the night when he made you his almost inevitably causes blood to rush to his groin, and his body starts unconsciously seeking the sweet relief of the friction between his hardening erection and your supple skin. He moves his hand on your breast to grasp your nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing it. You involuntarily buck your hips in response, which amuses him greatly as he continues playing with the tender nub. A soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging and emboldening his attentions as they drift away from your clavicle towards your chest. He plants gentle kisses on the plump of your bosom, using his teeth to pull at your nightgown and drag it down, exposing your clothed breast to the chilly morning air. You shiver, and he smiles against your skin, pressing his lips to the valleys of your ribs, the softness of your lower belly, and finally to your bare crotch. With his face so close to your swollen sex, the sweet scent of your essence now intoxicates his senses. He stands back for a moment to admire how it glistens in the faint glow of the moonlight, so deliciously inviting, as your juices start building up and collecting in-between your folds.

Feeling his breath caressing the sensitive skin of your core, you finally start to slowly regain consciousness. Once his arousals were returned to him, Astarion would make a habit of waking up during the night at various times to bury his cock in you, so it takes you but a moment to gather your bearings. Either out of mischievousness or curiosity, you play coy at first, pretending to be asleep still. His soft lips briefly come into contact with your engorged bud, sending shock waves through your body, and you are barely able to keep yourself from letting out a yelp, although you can’t prevent your skin from becoming covered with goosebumps. When his tongue pokes out of his mouth to give it a tentative lick, you know you won’t be able to keep up the charade for much longer. He feels your body tense up, and slightly raises his head to look at you from his position between your legs with half-lidded, lascivious eyes, dilated pupils partially covering the ruby hue of his irises. You’re unsure if he has already caught on to your little ruse, so you try staying as still as possible, which proves difficult with his face so close to your cunt.

After what seems like an eternity he decides to continue, lapping at your clit again and then sliding his tongue downwards, burying it between your folds. He presses it against the outer edge of your entrance, squeezing slick out of you, and as he savors your essence, he can’t help but think that while its sweet tanginess does not compare to the coppery, velvety richness of the crimson in your veins—nothing ever will, for his is the blood that courses through them—it may well be the second best thing he has ever tasted. Gliding his tongue upwards once more, he uses it to gently massage the raw bundle of nerves crowning your mound, leaving a trail of saliva mixed with your fluids between it and your twitching cunt, which then dribbles down onto your thighs. Placing a hand on each side of your hips, he pulls you closer to him, and the shift causes his fangs to graze the sensitive skin of your folds, in response to which your eyes water and you clutch the silk sheets under you both. Taking no notice of your desperate reaction, he continues swirling his tongue up and down your wetness, gently sucking on the tender skin, eagerly eating you up as if you were a full-course meal served especially for him, just begging to be ravished.

You feel heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and at this rate it won’t be long before you are brought to the edge. Momentarily forgetting the fact that you are supposed to be pretending to be asleep as you lose yourself in the crescendo of your release, you arch your back, leaning on your elbows to support your weight, and as soon as you do, he mercilessly pulls away from you, leaving your dripping core empty and aching. Eyes closed still, you let out a soft mewl in protest, which you regret as soon it leaves your lips, for once Astarion notices your desperation, you are done for.

Still unsure if he has already perceived your awakened state or if he believes your body to be involuntarily reacting to his touch, you dare not produce any further sounds. Having cruelly left your throbbing arousal unattended, his tongue now glides its way up your stomach, leaving a glistening wet mess in its wake. Upon reaching your chest, his lips latch onto your left breast, your perked nub fitting perfectly inside his mouth. He sucks on it ever so tenderly, teasing it with a pointed tongue and lightly scraping the squishy surrounding flesh with his fangs. One of his hands leaves its place on your hip and finds its way between your legs, and you let out a sigh of relief when you feel a long, elegant finger ghosting over your clit. The other hand slides further down to the curve of your ass, and his blunt nails dig into your soft skin, giving it a firm squeeze.

The pad of the wandering digit finally presses down onto the engorged flesh of your reddened knot, massaging it leisurely in circular patterns, and another finger suddenly slides between your folds, parting them gently. Unable to contain yourself, you roll your hips into his hand, which you soon learn is a grave mistake as he tightens his grip on your ass, applying such pressure that come morning, bruises are certain to form on the pale skin, which he will then tenderly kiss better while looking apologetically at you from under thick lashes; and you will forgive him, as you always do. Lifting his head up from your now rouged, swollen nipple, he readjusts his position above you, using his body weight to pin you down and hold you in place. He lets go of your ass, firmly grasping at your jaw with his newly freed hand, and even from behind closed eyes you can feel the intensity of his gaze. This does not bode well, and try as you might you cannot ignore the sickening pinch in the pit of your stomach as his eyes scrutinize every inch of your face—has he noticed? Is a punishment in order? Will he deny you your release?

“Open up, darling. Your mouth.” The commanding tone with which Astarion vocalizes the otherwise unassuming words is all it takes to placate your erratic thoughts, and obeying is for you as natural as breathing—or it would be, if you were still alive. Once you do as he says, you feel his thumb pressing on your lower lip, forcing it further down. He slides the digit inside your mouth, gagging you slightly, and your lips instinctively close around it. “Good girl,” he purrs, and encouraged by the tenderness of his praise, you start lightly sucking on it, coating it with saliva. For a short moment, he becomes entranced by the feeling of your wet tongue massaging his skin, and his mind wanders to the thought of your plump lips wrapped tightly around his cock. This prompts him to once again start bucking his hips, rubbing the now obvious bulge underneath his pants against your stomach, but this time his rhythm is much more frantic, more desperate.

Relief washes over you as you feel the fingers still in your mound resume their fondling, the one on your clit now applying greater pressure, handling it much less gently, yet just as skillfully, his knowledge of all the ins and outs of your body having always been something he prided himself on. The other makes its way down from its place between your folds, plunging into you as soon as it reaches your entrance. Your body jerks in response, and your moan is muffled by his thumb in your mouth—when he then plunges another, stretching you open without giving you time to adjust, you involuntarily bite down on the digit gagging you, sinking your fangs into his flesh. He grimaces, and you can tell you have hit an artery, because the flow of the thick, hot blood running down your throat is alarmingly heavy. However, rather than pulling away, he lets you drink, curling his fingers inside you and massaging the tight walls of your cunt with his knuckles. The rich taste of his crimson lingering in your tongue and spreading inside your body, mixing with yours within your veins and making them pulsate with life—pure, raw, vibrating life—works as a powerful aphrodisiac, heightening all your senses, and the feeling of him fucking you with his fingers is all it takes for you to come undone on his hand, muscles spasming and clenching around the digits, coating them in the sweet nectar of your release.

Just as you reach your climax, Astarion’s own teeth sink into the indentations marking the otherwise smooth skin of your neck. You instinctively cock your head to the side to grant him more access, letting him feed on you as you bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, sucking on his thumb still. His blood flows from him to you and then back to him, and the sheer intimacy of it brings you so close together that it’s as if you have merged into one single being. You can no longer tell where you end and he begins, as your minds touch and mesh and then untangle again, in a sensual, chaotic dance, where you both sway to the rhythm of his heartbeat. And while the connection lasts, his emotions rush through you and yours through him, rendering words meaningless as the everlasting adoration, the inebriating, all-consuming love you share, no matter how tainted, is laid bare before you, in all its wickedness and allure.

“Fear not: you are mine.��

You finally open your eyes, letting go of his thumb, and as the fog from the afterglow subsides you notice his fingers remain inside you still, gliding effortlessly up and down your twitching walls, which are now lubricated with slick and come; your skin tingles from the overstimulation, but the sensation is not unwelcome. With the hand you have just freed, he holds your head in place while he continues to feed, and you both stay like this for a while, his fingers buried inside your cunt and his fangs in your neck, where they rightfully belong. His little grunts as he drinks from you and the feeling of his hardened cock pressed flush against your stomach rekindle the ache between your legs, causing the living blood now coursing through your veins to flow to your tender core.

Having drank to his heart’s content, Astarion pulls away from you, making you wince at the sudden emptiness as both his fangs and fingers leave your body. No longer plagued by the perpetual, agonizing hollowness of vampiric hunger, his only reason for feeding on you still is the invigorating thrill of your taste on his tongue and your blood pulsating in his arteries; you were his first, after all, having offered him the greatest gift of them all when you had no good reason to. Killing you on the evening he first revealed his true nature had never been out of the question, and it puzzles him still why you would willingly surrender this sanguine gift to a vampire stalking you in the night—a pitiful creature, hiding in the shadows, with murderous intent and offering you nothing but pain and misery. He is reminded of your foolishness and naïveté every time he sinks his fangs into your soft flesh, and the familiarity of it is oddly comforting to him.

Not bothering to wipe the red smear on his chin, he brings his hand up to your mouth once more, only this time his digits are covered in your juices. A single look into his crimson eyes, clouded with lust, tells you all you need to know, and you eagerly obey the silent order, wrapping your lips around his fingers.

“Ever so obedient, aren’t you, my sweet?” His honeyed words and impish smile send shivers down your spine, and unable to talk as your tongue flicks and swirls, lapping at your own sticky essence, you look up at him through your lashes with coquettish demureness; his pretty little spawn, always so good to him, so docile, so devoted. The very sight of you makes his cock twitch with desire. “I do find it charming when you play your darling little games. Mostly because you are awful at them. You did know I was aware the entire time, didn’t you?,” although his smile widens, there is a hint of danger in his voice, “That you were awake.”

As his blood within you rushes to your cheeks, spreading to the tips of your ears, Astarion’s expression darkens, and the lust in his eyes grows wilder, more desperate. There is something endlessly enticing about how bashful and girlish you look with your face hot and flushed with his crimson, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar, and it makes him want to devour you whole. He abruptly slides his fingers out of your mouth, and the glistening string of your fluids that forms between your lips and his digits breaks off as he uses that same hand to grab your neck and bring your face close to his. Once you are mere inches apart, he stops for a moment, the proximity between you such that you can feel his long lashes brushing against your skin and see the flecks in different shades of red swimming in his irises. The stillness in the air makes you acutely aware of the sound of his heartbeat, and it paradoxically both comforts and torments you. Such is the nature of your relationship; yearning and sorrow, worship and regret, lust and greed. The duality of it is not lost to you, but you’re past the point of coming up with justifications, for it is far too late for redemption. You made your choice, he made his, and now his burden is yours to bear. It matters not if outsiders looking in cannot make sense of it, as the bond between you was never meant to be understood by anyone else—however ugly and twisted it may be perceived by those around you, it is undeniably a bond of love, one you are willing to protect even if it costs you everything.

“Until the world falls down.”

When he finally closes the distance between you and crashes his mouth into yours, your mind is wiped clean of any semblance of coherent thought and your senses are filled with nothing but him—his scent, his warmth, his taste. He hungrily parts your lips with his tongue as soon as your skin touches his, your teeth clicking in his desperation, and his grip on your neck tightens. You feel tears well up in your eyes, some spilling through your lashes and rolling down your cheeks, your repressed emotions overflowing as you lose yourself in the fierce intensity of his kiss. You want him, you need him, you hate him; you love him, oh how dearly you love him, more than life itself. He explores the inside of your mouth, wantonly, passionately, only stopping to suck on your bottom lip, nipping it with his fangs and lapping at the droplets of blood blooming from the punctured flesh. Once he pulls away, gasping for air, you are both a disheveled mess, lips swollen and bruised and red. Not yet letting go of you, his fingers wrapped around your throat still, he guides your head back down, laying it on the soft feather pillow, only to then straighten up his torso, hand on your neck holding you in place and darkened eyes looking down upon you. From your position below him, he looks ethereal, almost godly, as the moon casts a pale halo around his frame, shining its light on the naked skin of his upper body.

He holds this position for a while, silently studying your face, and as he does, his intense gaze seems to gradually soften, mellowing out into almost tenderness. You feel the pressure of his fingers on your skin lessen, and then cease completely as he frees you, raising his hand up to cup your cheek. His thumb traces the trail of dried tears, and you lean into his soothing touch, eyes wettening once more. Taking notice of this, he leans back down and brushes his lips against the teardrops threatening to escape from your lashes, drying them before they fall.

“Shh, my darling, hush.” The softness in Astarion’s voice and the gentleness of his caresses as he runs his fingers through your hair are all you ever yearned for, all you ever needed, and yet with every touch your chest tightens and you feel a pang of loneliness and guilt tugging at your unbeating heart, for this is what you want, but not what you deserve. You failed him, just as he failed the others, and your regrets bind you together for eternity as the thread of your fate entangles with his in a constricting embrace—so is it too greedy, to let yourself be selfish and indulge in his warmth before the sun rises? Is even someone as broken and wicked as you allowed a moment of reprieve, however brief? You know not the answer to these questions, nor do you think you ever will. All you know is that there’s nowhere else you want to be but in his arms, no matter how much it hurts, for you’ll endure the pain as long as you are by his side.

“Kiss me,” you quietly plead, your supplication barely a whisper, prompting him to pull away slightly to look into your eyes. He takes a moment to try and read your expression, his gaze sharp, inquisitive, stripping you off all your defenses and laying you bare before him. A short time passes, and without saying a word, he lowers his head down again, lips brushing against yours, their pillowy softness and the taste of your blood still lingering on his skin shrouding your mind in a white fog. You raise both of your arms and wrap them around his neck, bringing him closer as your mouth matches his movements, the desperation of before now manifesting more tenderly, more lovingly, but just as intensely. One of his hands remains on your cheek as he kisses you, and with the other, he finally unlaces his pants, freeing his neglected erection, which by now is slick from the precome leaking from its engorged head. The color of the sky outside slowly begins to brighten, now a beautiful blend of periwinkle and cyan, and as the twilight peaks and starts to reach its end, Astarion decides he has waited long enough—he will take you here and now, before the merciless, harsh light of the sun engulfs you both.

Feeling his hardness against your thigh, you readily comply, spreading your legs apart. You need this just as much as he does; to be one with him, carnally, for your souls have long merged, and there is no you without him just as there is no him without you. As he lines up with your entrance, his lips leave yours and he presses your foreheads together, staring into your eyes with reassuring tenderness. You feel the tip of his cockhead flush against your dripping sex—the reddened, puffed up skin feels warm, and thinking of how it is swollen from his blood in your veins is all it takes for him to finally snap and give into his desires. He slides inside of you in a single thrust, the wetness from your juices facilitating his entry as he stretches your walls to accommodate his large size. You try to bite back a whimper, your eyes once again tingling and prickling with the promise of tears as one of your hands finds its way to the back of his head and your fingers become entangled in his silvery curls. Not moving immediately, he waits a while, giving you time to adjust. You revel in the familiar feeling of his cock stuffed inside your core, the pain and warmth of it, and you wonder if he too can find comfort nowhere else but in your flesh, as it is only when filled with him that you are able to hold together the broken pieces of your descended mind.

The hand that had been cupping your cheek now rests on your waist as he moves his head to nuzzle the curve of your neck, taking in your scent. Ever so slowly he starts rolling his hips back and forth, planting gentle kisses on the delicate skin where his fangs had been buried just moments ago, now stained with patches of dried blood. You close your eyes, still trying to hold back the tears, hugging him as tightly as you can, or as tightly as he’ll let you. His pace is at first languid, sensual, allowing you to feel the entirety of him as he massages your aching, tender walls, still sensitive and spasming from your orgasm. He grunts in your ear, prompting you to start undulating your own hips, doing your best to match his rhythm. Emboldened by this, he moves his hands down to grab your ass, tilting your pelvis up and pulling you closer to him. Just as desperate to feel him as deeply as physically possible, you wrap your legs around his midriff, allowing him to reach the innermost parts of your throbbing cunt. When the tip of his cock brushes against the spongy skin of your cervix, your gut tightens and you cry out for him, unable to contain yourself.

“Astarion…”

The sound of his name in your lips, so very eager, so very sweet, is all the encouragement he needs, and the once languid movements give way to more vigorous pounding, the lewd sound of smacking flesh echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he snaps his hips and buries himself deeper inside your aching core. Your body rocks in rhythm with his thrusts, the tears in your eyes finally escaping your lashes and running down your face, a chaotic culmination of all the pleasure, all the hurt, all the desire and all the devotion brewing deep inside your heart as your raging feelings come to a boil. No one can understand, no one will understand—and yet, as he fucks you senseless in the early hours, pumping his cock in and out of you with lascivious abandon, none of it matters. You hold him even closer, pressing your squishy breasts flush against the sweaty, glistening skin of his chest. He moans at the sensation, intensifying his pace and using his hands on your ass to tilt your pelvis higher, pushing your folded legs, which are still wrapped around him, as close to your upper body as your flexibility will allow it. You feel the muscles in your thighs stretching and burning, but this only excites you further, and the soft whimpers leaving your lips escalate in frequency and loudness alike.

As he continues pounding into you, Astarion’s kisses on your neck become more passionate, more heated, going from pecks, to licking, to sucking, until eventually he gives in and once again sinks his fangs into the bruised flesh. You mewl faintly and your grip on his hair tightens, in response to which he bites down on you harder, nails raking across the skin of your ass as his thrusts grow fiercer, more violent. The message immediately gets through to you—the cheeky little spawn must know her place—so you obediently let go of his curls, although your digits remain entangled in them still; yet he does not slow down his pace, ramming into you with such force that you are afraid you will have trouble walking once he is finished. Mercifully, one of his hands leaves its place on your ass to hover above your swollen clit, which twitches desperately as his cock resurfaces and then disappears again inside your cunt. He grasps it between two deft fingers, massaging the engorged bundle of nerves as a reward for your obedience, and that is all it takes for tension to again start building up in your groin.

“You have given me everything.”

His digits on your tender bud; your blood running down his throat; his cock slamming into you, stretching open your tight walls—you are so very close to climaxing again, and yet you don’t want the moment to end; you don’t want morning to come, breaking the spell and robbing your lover from you, as it always so cruelly does. The tragic inevitability of it is however unaffected by the infinitude of your existence, a gift that was also bequeathed to you by him, and enveloped by the ice-cold embrace of the memories of your death, your body comes alive as you are pushed over the edge, your twitching cunt fluttering and contracting around him, creaming and squirting your sweet juices all over his length.

As you slump back and go limp is his arms, Astarion unlatches his mouth from your neck and props up his torso to marvel at your image as you bask in the glory of your release—so maddeningly beautiful, cheeks and plump lips flushed bright pink with what remains of his lifeblood within you; his consort, his spawn, his to use as he pleases, his and nobody else’s. While he continues fucking you through your orgasm, all you can hear are his low moans and grunts and the squelching sounds of your wetness as he ruts into you with ever increasing furor. You can tell he is also close by the way he holds your hips with both of his hands, pushing his own against them with almost vicious ferocity while you remain slumped on the headboard, tits bouncing cutely with every thrust. The daylight seeping through the curtains now brightens up the room, and as you look up at him with half-lidded eyes, you notice how handsome he looks illuminated by the gentle glow of the rising sun, sweat beading his temple and dripping down his chin and nose.

“Gods…” he groans, voice raspy with lust, and with one final push he empties himself inside you, filling you to the brim with his seed, which feels thick and warm flooding your tender walls. Still panting and sucking in sharp breaths, he falls on top of you, not bothering to pull his cock out of your still spasming cunt, chest flush against yours and head burrowed in the crook of your neck. Spillover runs down your thighs and soaks into the wrinkled sheets, but neither of you bother cleaning it up, the resulting stain surely to give the maids good reason to blush later.

You bring a hand up to his silky curls once more, gently running your fingers through them as you feel the calming thumping of his slowing heartbeat vibrating against your cold skin. As the dawn finally breaks over the still sleeping city, signaling the beginning of a new day in your undead life—for better or for worse—you find comfort in the warmth of his flesh and the sound of his ragged breathing as it gradually steadies. All your suffering, all your pain; if even your death is required to bring him to life, then so be it. He will live for the both of you, and you will love him for it. Forever—for good.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

[blkgirl-writing]

hi!! i just read your massive headcanon list for gale (loved it btw) and i desperately need one astarion as well!! ❤️

Astarions Massive list of SFW and NSFW headcanons (Part 1?)

Literally of course!! I wasn’t sure the people wanted this so I was waiting for a request. I’m bundling a lot of my astarion requests in this one too so if you see an ask you did it’s probably inspired!

TW: Acended Astarion section, details on physical and mental abuse there. I will put a warning for where it starts and ends. Some headcanons are more illuded to "female" anatomy, not all headcanons will reveal much

Astarion is somehow so soft with his touch yet rough and almost feral when he really desires you

He will trace every inch of your body with such light, soft fingers, but grab onto your hips tight and nearly thrust you into him. Gently kiss you neck before sinking his teeth into your skin

Because honestly his true desires, wants, and needs, are unfiltered and less calculated than his normal affair

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

TW START

I do have to include acended astarion here because I don’t want to write him fully, so here’s that section. I feel like too many people want acended Astarion to be loving and caring. That unfortunately isn't the truth of the cycle of abuse

It doesn’t last, his love for you. It extinguishes fast, like water to a flame. He becomes cold and controlling

The only was I can see a happy future for tav and Astarion ascended is a Durge, where you rule the land together, ignoring the heart you once had together. It’s lots of bickering. If chaos is your turn on, this is it

Lots of hate sex and screaming matches. At least one per month where you both loose your voice before the argument ends and red marks across eachothers bodies

And honestly, I think one of you kills the other, in a fit of rage. But still whoever dies would get a grave stone. Small, unlabeled, a sort of revenge for the people who wanted it all. Forced in a common place with no success flaunted and easily forgotten

TW ENDED

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion holds hand in his sleep, rather than cuddling

A hand is all he needs to feel like he’s in the safest place in the world

Full spooning is just too intimate and personal until much later In your relationship. He wasn’t ready for something so real yet

There's a lot of pushing and pulling til he gets comfortable, but he will always make sure you know that he loves you and wants your touch, there's a lot of learning along the way

He just hasn't experienced the seriousness of true love and compassion for someone he truly feels he can't lose. It's scary, loving so much that your death would lead to his emotional one, if not physically as well

Astarion would never admit it but he would do just about anything for you

he becomes somewhat soft, which, initially annoys him, but he finally accepts it after a few weeks

He realized when you looked at him, with brightness in your eyes, asking him something important, he really wasn't listening

All he could think was to never make those eyes cry again, he'd do anything to stop you from feeling like that again

Your first date isn't very planned

After a fun but quick night on the beach, you get clothed and Astarion stares at you, taking all of your skin in, as it slowly gets hidden by clothing. A bit of a shame, he couldn't see you bare all the time

There was a blanket and you both lay on it for some time, in silence. Slowly, you feel his pinky finger graise yours. You hook them together, and simply watch the moon in the sky, fading in and out of sleep. Astarion doesn't get any closer or further, but he does sigh a few times

And for the first time, when you wake up, he's still there

Your second date was much more of a traditional date, at least for you two

Astarion had the bright idea to sneak as much alcohol as possible from the inn

feet dipped in the cold water of the docks, four bottles of quality whiskey polished off, and working on a fifth, you were positively hammered

Astarions head was leaning on your shoulder, arm slumped around your waist

the laughing and mumbled words only get louder and louder with each sip, and at some point, Astarion looks up at you, a small glint of his sharp teeth peering out of a smirk, and he leans into you further, pressing his lips against yours doe a deep kiss

it was almost aromatic. A charm whispered in your ear that made his lips taste like roses and sugar, with a hint of copper, you feel your own tongue lick his bottom lip, needing more of whatever that taste was

the night was a blur, after that. Too drunk to really remember much the next day, but you both knew there wasn't going back after that. There was a bond, now, with feelings more than just lust and need

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion fucking you feels like getting close to a campfire, warm, hot, even, like getting any closer may kill you, pounding and scraping, biting and bleeding, breath thick and hot

When you fuck Astarion, everything feels light, it flows like water over a riverbed, he lets you ravish him in a gentle, caring sense

His attention is all over you, but your neck clearly has his attention-grabbing the back of your neck, kisses down it, bite marks, hickeys, licks, even cum, sometimes, purposefully dripped on your face, but mostly on your neck and collarbone

It definitely also is just a very obvious placement, it can show that you fuck, he fucks you, and you love it. It gets to the point where there are faded bruises, bite marks, and scratches littering across your whole neck, it almost looks like tattoos, and a few passersby comment on it.

Astarion had a very smug smile on his face that day, and that night he ravished you with more passion than ever before

What else can I say, Astarion fucks, but I do think once you really start your relationship, there's a lot of re-learning of what he really wants

so sex starts off fairly vanilla, adding stuff in, changing it out, uses of safe words and communication being key, a safe, loving space between you and him where he is never used and he never uses you, it's just pleasure and ecstasy

I believe he'd be open to a closed relationship as well, at least for a while, especially if you choose the path of the underdark for your future

Literally not even once do you wear protection either lol

It's messed up so TW, I have a feeling Cazador made sure Astarion could never procreate, giving him an attachment to anyone is dangerous, and something to fight for even more so. Having his own offspring would never be an option for him

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

There would never be normalcy in your relationship, that's kind of the beauty of it

Every single day is different, there is never a moment that passes with Astarion that isn't unique

Especially when Astarion is adjusting to a life where he has to think and care for another, a routine isn't comforting to him, spontaneity is important in your early relationship

Astarion is still very romantic in his own ways, kissing your fingers hugs from behind, small, light touches across your whole body

The first time you nearly die? my god. He's incredibly distant for a few days

and when you ask what's up he would definitely blow up

like what were you thinking? Going in like that, you could have died! You could have left him alone again

He cries softly in your arms, then, repeats how you could have died. It seems like forever, that he stays there, tears dripping down your skin, cold

From then on he always looks back at you, in battle, before striking, to make sure you're ok, accounted for

------

hey! What other HCs would ya'll like me to add in the next part! I haven't romanced Astarion more than twice so I may need a little help there, haha. But thank you for reading!!

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

[windbelle]

Perhaps Astarion looks like Cazador's friend

I have seen a lot of people headcanon Astarion looks like Cazador's former master Vellioth, which does make a lot of sense. However, I've always had another headcanon:

Perhaps Astarion looks like that friend of Cazador who was drained and killed by Vellioth.

Here are my thoughts:

In the 5e DnD Monster Manual, vampires have the nature of Dark Desire, and it says "Whether or not a vampire retains any memories from its former life, its emotional attachments wither as once-pure feelings become twisted by undeath. Love turns into hungry obsession, while friendship becomes bitter jealousy. In place of emotion, vampires pursue physical symbols of what they crave, so that a vampire seeking love might fixate on a young beauty. A child might become an object of fascination for a vampire obsessed with youth and potential. Others surround themselves with art, books, or sinister items such as torture devices or trophies from creatures they have killed."

And it seems evil aligned creatures in lore always see friendship as vulnerability and weakness. Vellioth punished Cazador for his connection to his friend by draining this friend to death, and taught Cazador to never let anyone be his equal. This friend must be really special to Cazador to lead to Vellioth doing this.

We know that Cazador is a pretty good student for Vellioth's lessons. He learned the lesson and killed Vellioth. And he's begun to see the friendship he once possessed as his vulnerability and weakness. He probably hated being punished by Vellioth for his vulnerability and he wanted to vanquish his weakness by torturing someone who could serve as a symbol of his vulnerability, someone who looks like his friend.

He might still have some special emotion, even some kind of love, towards his dead friend but his dark desire has turned his emotion into hungry obsession. So, when he saw Astarion, who looked a lot like his friend, Cazador couldn't help being attracted to Astarion but also he wanted just to possess him, belittle him, and torture him.

That explains why Cazador has this special favoritism towards Astarion in terms of torture and punishment. In fact, I somehow believe that Cazador chose all his spawns because he had some affection towards them all. But his feelings are totally twisted so that he would torture them and use them, while insisting they are a family.

I don't know whether it's true that Cazador sent the Gur to attack Astarion, but I think he did savor the moment when he turned Astarion because he now had the power to "save" him from death, and to turn him into his own possession.

His torture is not merely some sadistic hobby but quite calculated and cold according to his journal. It's only when Astarion got away that he showed emotion. It seems like he was subconsciously training Astarion as a potential successor, just like Vellioth taught him and trained him to be the vampire master of the Szarr family.

This reminds me of the 5e DND module "Curse of Strahd". In "Curse of Strahd" if you role play as Strahd, he has an objective to find a successor, because he thinks if he can find a successor to replace him then he can get rid of the eternal curse and get his freedom.

After you defeat Cazador without Astarion you can detect his thoughts, and you will find that he also thinks he is forever trapped in this immortal curse. He cannot rest and he's in grief. He wants to break the curse, and that's why he sought the profane ritual so that he could gain the ability to finally "live" like a mortal.

But apart from becoming the vampire ascendant, there's another way of terminating his grief to finally put him to rest, that is, to be destroyed and replaced by a successor.

In some way, he was subconsciously expecting Astarion to succeed him and replace him. I think his former master, Vellioth, knew it even more clearly that he would be replaced by Cazador somehow, and Vellioth was training him to do that by intention. Cazador was doing this similarly but more unconsciously. In his subconsciousness, either he would consume Astarion at last, or Astarion would end him and replace him.

Finally, and this is purely headcanon: according to Astarion's age, he was probably born after Cazador's friend was killed. If this friend was also an elf, then when Cazador saw Astarion, for a moment he might think Astarion could be his friend's reincarnation.

[alpaca-clouds]

Something about the Astarion romance

There is one thing about the Astarion romance, that I kinda feel like should be talked about a bit more.

Now, I am very much a lover of the Astarion romance. I just wanna hug that horriblem man. He definitely needs all the hugs you can give him. But...

We are all aware that the relationship - at least for now - is not a healthy one, right?

Like, no matter whether you let him ascend or not, the relationship is one of emotional dependency. Astarion is going to be emotionally dependent on the player character, no matter whether it is Tav, Durge or one of the other Origins.

Which is completely natural, mind you. Of course someone with his trauma will just latch onto the one person who makes him feel good emotionally and not let go. Duh. For someone that traumatized that is completely natural behavior.

It is this fact that drives him so much, when it comes to the Ascension Ritual. If you have played the game not romancing him, you might have noticed, that at least dialogue wise he is much easier convinced that maybe the ritual is a bad idea. Like, sure, the persuasion checks are still the same, but in the dialogue choices, when he goes: "Oh, all the power I could have." And you go: "I don't think that's a good idea." When you are a friend he is just going to go: "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe you are right." But if you are romancing him? Then he is going to be all: "I am doing it for us, my sweet!"

And I think the main reason behind this is, that this is the first time in a long while that he allows himself to really care about someone else and he is so fucking afraid that he is going to loose you. Thinking that Ascension would allow him to protect you. (Which of course does go south fairly quickly, if you let him ascend, because in that case he mistakes control for protection.)

But even if he does not ascend, he is still very emotionally dependent. And post-game it is going to take work for him to overcome this dependency. Because while his dependency as a vampire spawn is much less toxic compared to Ascended Astarion, it is not good. Especially not for him.

I see a lot of "How sad is it, that if you have a short-lived Tav (like a human, halfling or orc) Astarion will see him die rather soon, even if he gets healed?"

And I am like... Alright, here is my death positivity coming through. Sure, it is sad, but... if Astarion is not completely dependent on Tav/Durge/whoever... It is going to be alright. It is not going to be soul crushing. Like, even a short life well lived is worth more celebrating than mourning, right?

Just, you know... something to think about. Something to consider.

[clericofgale]

Spoilers for Patch 5 and the whole game.

I posted my thoughts about the new ending Gale got in patch 5 on Reddit first, but I might as well post it here with some revisions. I'll say it, I love the god Gale ending. But it is NOT his good ending to me. Before I would never have pursued it, but now it is tantalizing to say the least. I'm into it though Gale the mortal is still my preference.

"Gale Dekarios cuts a poor figure next to the wizarding prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep. You like so many things about me I'd have sooner discarded…"

By ascending Gale, you are killing Gale Dekarios. The nerd that hits on you in front of everyone while you're covered in zombie blood, procced to infodump an entire tangent to complement you, and yet somehow stick the landing to hit you with the most romantic poetry you've ever heard. A sensitive man who wears his emotions on his sleeve and wants to make the world a more beautiful place. An artist of the weave and a poet. The owner of the most overbearing tressym in the world. The moment the spell was complete, Gale Dekarios died and Gale the divine was born.

Even then, why is god Gale now so enticing to me unlike ascended Astarion? Because he loves you. He wants you by his side as an equal. It's actually sweet and romantic, just like all of Gale's romance is. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a romance.

"Follow my Lead" "Show me more. Show me it all." "I want you to seize the crown and make us a new world"

BeMyGod is the name in the data file for the boat scene where Gale asks you if you'll be with him when he seizes the crown. I know file names can be arbitrary, but if you agree to his proposal, you really are asking Gale to be your god. It's so easy to say yes. You're in the stars, Gale says I want to show you so much more, but it's not worth it without you. All you need to do is say yes. You're angry at Mystra who demanded so much of Gale, caused him such suffering and won't lift a finger to help. So You say yes. You love him. He loves you.

When Gale ascends, even in 6 months he is a different entity. The devs indicate: "His posture/demeanor here should feel slightly more aloof/detached than the regular Gale - he's been immortal for six months, his ego is as powerful as his magic. The real Gale's insecurities still lurk beneath his godlike confidence, as does his love for the player, but this is clearly a Gale setting out on a darker path."

The Gale here is a twisted version of the one we loved. His flaws are worse, he good traits have mostly disappeared. Namely his kindness and tolerance to deprecating humor. He no longer tolerates any perceived slight or jab. He doesn't let go of his bitterness towards Mystra. His ego is large yet fragile. You saw a glimpse of it at the ritual circle scene if you succeed in upstaging him in magic. Now it's only gotten worse. Yes even his insecurity. If you rejected him after accepting the proposal, Gale says this.

Tav: No, I think it's the end. What happened to the man I once loved? Gale: He's the god he deserves to be. I achieved everything we hoped I would, and still I'm not good enough for you?

He's also lonelier than ever. His last 6 months were in isolation, with nobody he could trust while dealing with the crown and celestial politics. Immortals don't really have friends. They have allies and lovers. He stops talking to his mother who was so dear to him. He develops a spell to polymorph people into Tara, his oldest friend who rejects him after ascension. He then develops a spell that summons Shadowdark ale and forces people to dance and be happy, just like the vignette he told you about the Yawning Portal. The third spell is Power word: Ruin. he's finally back to speaking death into being with a single word, just like he used to.

Gale wanted to be a god to make a better world, but now he's a neutral god answering prayers from any alignment. He doesn't care if they are Thayan wizards aiming for lichdom or unscrupulous Amnian merchants. Ambition is a neutral idea. Ambition also drives healers to develop a cure. For adventurers to slay monsters.

What's the most noticeable remaining good trait in Gale? Gale still loves you. He's much nicer to you if romanced. He refuses to be with you if you don't go with him because he doesn't want to hurt you. He admires your good heart if you want to honor the pact with Raphael. He calls you my love just like before. He will fulfill the promise sealed that night in the astral sea. All you have to do is say yes. And the ascension cinematic is a callback to the romance scenes from before.

"Follow my lead. Close your eyes. I have so much more to show you."

And you know what. I'll go with you. Even if we will eventually lose both our humanity in our folly, and dreams become nightmares. Even if I'll come to regret that night when I said yes to the mortal you, I don't want you to be lonely. Where ever you go, I'll go. You'll always have me. And I'll always have you.

As God Gale would say… "A toast then, to our myriad ambitions. May we each get what we deserve."

[feyascorner]

NO BECAUSE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT ASCENDED ASTARION FOR A SECOND

I feel a lot of people think he just lost his soul when he went through with the ascension (myself included) but replaying for the third time (this time w/o rushing lol), it’s more obvious that he’s still him.

Of course, there’s a very obvious difference between spawn astarion and ascendant astarion in his dialogue, especially if you romance him. Ascendant astarion, in the state that he is immediately after ascension, is absolutely not a healthy representation of what a relationship should look like and should not be desired. Obviously some people think he’s hot but for the sake of the argument just go along w me here.

Regardless I don’t think the ascension changed him THAT much as a person. In fact I’d argue that NOT ascending changes him more (for the better). Ascending just made parts of him (the less forgiving traits) that much more prominent.

Looking back on Act 1 during the tiefling celebration (assuming you don’t side w the goblins), he clearly says he doesn’t revel in being a hero. And throughout the game he makes it very clear he’s willing to be selfish because he hasn’t been allowed to be selfish for the past 200 years.

And this selfishness manifests into him wanting power so he won’t face the same environment again. He’s always wanted power, and if he chooses not to ascend, he’s letting go of that part of himself. Not only does he go against what he’s believed for most of his life as a spawn, but accepts that being a spawn is okay with him. If he chooses to ascend, he’s amplifying that power hungry aspect of himself, putting act1/2 astarion’s personality in the basement, but he’s still there.

This applies to how possessive he is of Tav after the ascension too. He’s always been possessive, even if he doesn’t make it alarmingly obvious. Though rather than possessive I’d describe it more as a fear of being abandoned in act 1/2.

For example, when you drop the Githyanki Crèche on him he gets genuinely annoyed for a few seconds and then he thanks you for apologizing in a much softer tone, like he’s trying to repair any damage he might’ve done by getting mad at you. At the time, he still thinks of himself as weak, and therefore cannot bring himself to be possessive since he has no power to back it up. Instead, he manifests these feelings by doing everything in his power to please you even if it goes against his emotions. And while he doesn’t particularly love Tav going off with other people (as seen with the dialogue after you sleep with Mizora), he pretends that he’s okay with it just to keep you by his side. This tendency to please Tav in hopes they’ll stay is also seen in how he asks for your permission before he kills the Gur at the hag’s house.

Now, once he does ascend, he realizes he has the power to support all these darker emotions he feels. It turns twisted as a result, bringing us to the ascendant astarion we have today.

Spawn astarion, however, lets go of these emotions in a way, or displays them in a more healthy manner. It’s why his arc feels much more satisfying this way because ascendant astarion isn’t really changing, just adjusting. Spawn astarion goes through more raw character development which is also why I cannot bring myself to ascend him even in my evil durge play through!!

anyway yeah I made this account to do stuff like this hope you enjoyed my little rant🫶 this is just my personal opinion obviously but pls lmk if anyone thinks differently bg3 lore is so interesting

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

hey! hc questions for Astarion & ace! Tav (sorry if some of those have already been answered):

- Who picks flowers for the other?

- Who has a hobby only the other knows about?

- How do they hype each other up?

- How do they express their feelings?

- Who's more protective?

- Who gets jealous easier?

thank you for your work! I always get excited when I see you have posted something new about this ship ^^

Who picks flowers for the other?

Tav does it for Astarion. I know there is some dialogue about him not liking flowers, but it’s different when they’re a gift from his love.

Tav never buy them. They just collect a small bundle as their walking. They then arrange them in a vase or spare cup, accompanied by a story; some local legend or tale about the flowers or just something they make up on the spot, Astarion can never be sure. Still he listens attentively as the story is just as much part of the gift as the flowers themselves.

Who has a hobby only the other knows about?

Tav knows about Astarion’s many tries at different hobbies.

Post game Astarion finally has the time to figure out what exactly he likes to do. Yes, there’s reading, but he figures out he genuinely enjoys embroidering and sewing. Making something with his own two hands and having something tangible at the end is extremely satisfying. Plus, it helps him clear his mind of anything besides the task in front of him. He’s since expanded this to jewelry making and knitting. Although he’ll die before he admits the knitting part.

How do they hype each other up?

Compliments. Compliments all around.

Astarion specifically goes on and on about Tav’s immense musical talent. Tav is already fairly secure in their abilities, but having somebody in the audience they know truly loves their work is heartening.

As for Tav, they know Astarion has his vanity and is willing to indulge him, complimenting him on his looks and choice of clothing. And if they throw an “I love you” at the end of it, he won’t say no.

How do they express their feelings?

I’m going to just assume you mean their feelings toward each other since if I went through all the emotions we’d be here all day.

Tav is actually a very physically affectionate person who has been denied it for years. Once they get permission to show their love that way, they don’t stop. Hugs for certain, leaning against him, hand kisses, cuddling, they’re all in. Quality time is next on the list. They don’t care what they’re doing so long as they’re doing it together.

Astarion is more verbal in his affections. He’ll just tell Tav how beautiful, talented, and amazing he finds them. He teases and tries to make them laugh. He can be quite the poet when he puts his mind to it. I’ll also add physical affection to the list. It takes him time, but once he understands he’s safe, he doesn’t want to loses the feeling of having them close.

Who’s more protective?

Astarion.

Not to say Tav isn’t, because they are, but it’s less visceral than Astarion. He spent so much of his life afraid that even when he does get together with Tav, it doesn’t lessen his fear. If anything his more afraid because he has somebody to lose for the first time in centuries. He considers ascending not just to keep himself safe, but to ensure he can protect Tav, forever. He’s never felt this way before about anyone. There’s no telling what he’d be willing to do for them.

Who gets jealous easier?

Hard to say. They both have their moments. I’d say Astarion is more vocal while Tav let’s it build up over time.

If somebody is flirting with Tav at a tavern, he’s by their side the next second with an arm around their waist and a smile that’s all fangs. He can also get real petty if he feels like they’re giving other people too much attention over him.

If somebody flirts with Astarion, Tav doesn’t say anything because they don’t want Astarion thinking he’s trying to control him or “too much”. But it hurts and if it happens too many times they’ll crack and ask if Astarion is getting bored of them. It would’ve be the first time. It’d take a lot for Tav to admit they’re jealous, but once they do, Astarion would have a field day.

They’re both working on getting better about it. It’s not a pretty thing.

[randomfanner]

Spawn Astarion + His Siblings Headcanons

Time for Spawn Astartion, his headcanons are probably going to be the lightest this far, mind you I am writing this before I actual write the headcanons so this is subject to change. Unless of course it doesn't!

When I do Ascended Astarion, there is going to be a lot of warnings but that is Ascended Astarion. We are letting this vampire man be happy five minutes before we go into what happens if his life gets ruined.

There is a mention of the slimmest piece of shit. The rattest of rat bastard: Cazador. Only mentioned.

Discussing Astarion's relationship with sex. Not sex itself, there is nothing safe for work, just how Astarion is most definitely demi-sexual.

This is going to be tooth rotting:

Astarion is trying so fucking hard to be a good boyfriend. Do you have idea how much he is trying? He has no idea what he is doing, he meant that so he tries to figure it out by doing everything he can for you.

This man will wait on you hand and foot and I am serious.

He loves to do it too. You are the first thing to make this man feel safe, loved and wanted in 200 years. You have aided him in getting free from the tadpole in his head, the Absolute nonsense, his past, his tormentor, that ritual and, perhaps most importantly:

Himself

"So by all means dear, sit down, relax," he guides you to sit down on the couch. "This is the least you deserve. Besides I do think you have a few friend who would be happy to be lathered in your lovely attention well I make dinner," of course he is referring to Scratch and Owlbear cub. He will give you a kiss on the cheek as he goes to make you dinner.

Of course afterward he is done with dinner, he joins the cuddle pile. giving you kisses and praises... If you are gracious enough to allow him a nibble he certainly will not deny though.

This to be said even after all this time he is not used to receiving affection and positive attention back. Not anything genuine at least and so it can take him... time to get used to receiving your touch.

Oh the man loves it. Do not get it right you make him feel... wanted. He is just not used to that feeling. So sometimes he may flinch away from you when you try to be soft with him. He doesn't want you to feel offended and does assure you "It is in no way you, my beloved, it is all me."

Give him time and he always does come seek out your touch eventually. He does thrive on the warm you make him feel with your softer moments.

Astarion notices he is slowly becoming... good. He hates it. He does like it, but he really hates it

One day he was walking home after getting groceries from the night market and saw someone dropped their wallet, and with out thinking, he returned the wallet. He got thanked and walked away with out even realizing what he did and then he just.

Stops.

He debates on going back and stealing the wallet back. He can, he knows he can... but he just.... doesn't. He just goes home and isn't sure what he just did and man may have a crisis.

"Don't worry about me, dearest!" if you try check on him. "I just did a good thing with out reason and I am not taking it well- give me a minute. I do want to discuss this!"

He becomes very clear with his emotions and tries not to hide them with you at all. He will tell you what he is thinking, when he is thinking and makes sure you expect complete honesty from him. You have shown him all and more trust in the world.

He did try to kill you at minimum twice and he was fully intent on using you. He still feels... guilty about those things as much as he tries to deny it. And he does talk with you about it when it comes up. Because he trusts you.

He honestly trusts you. It means the world to him that despite how little he deserves it, you showed him trust. And he is so happy you are here with him.

Astarion tends to go hunting a lot in peaceful times. He is still a vampire and even with out the blood lust of hunger he sometimes just... needs to kill something. A predator instinct that is going to be with him as long as he is a vampire.

Not that he minds. Going hunting for animals, sometimes monsters, and any nasties who are stupid enough to try and attack him make him feel excited.

He keeps his promise not to attack innocent of course and has saved a few lives by his hunting. Whether it be a child who got lost in the woods at night, or perhaps a foolhardy adventurer. A lot of these you wouldn't have known about if it weren't for the fact the people he has saved have stopped by during the day, bringing by gold or gifts as a reward.

Astarion never expects it but it makes him... happy. It makes him really happy.

Take him shopping when you get to Baldur's Gate. Like, do it, please. Take him to the Facemake Boutique and let him pick out his own, nice clothes and maybe some dye.

Oh the man is more than ecstatic. His appearances matters to him, it makes to him a lot. If you have no, read the description on his clothes: it made me cry.

He does cry about it afterwards . He will just be sitting on his bed at the Elf Song, staring at his old clothing , clothes he struggled to keep nice and now he has nice clothes from someone he cares about that he got to pick out.

It gets and makes you so many gifts. He will go to Halsin, whether you are in a relationship with him or not, and ask him to help him learn how to skin animals and begin using the pelts and leathers of animals he kills. (if you are also dating Halsin, it is a wonderful bonding activity for the two of them).

Man does sew and has been stitching up your clothes during the adventure. Even before he realized he was in love. He noticed a rip on your camp outfit and "Give that here, I will fix it for you."

He fixes your clothes with embroidery. He adds something that reminds you of him to your outfit and just hands it over to you, muttering how you need to be more careful with your clothing. And now he will ask if he can add a bit more flare to your outfits.

Man has a lot of fears that he doesn't realize are fears until they come up again. They were things that he accepted as life and now he doesn't have too, he is terrified of them. Please protect him.

So this is you decided to not kill the vampires. I personally could not kill the vampires:

Knocking on the door is never an expected sound. Most people tended to leave you, Astarion(and Halsin) alone. Especially when it is the middle of the night. But when Astarion answered the door well.

"May... may we come in?"

"What in the bloody hells are you doing here?"

He never expected to see his brother or sisters again after you had convinced him to spare them. And if he did see them again he didn't expect them to show up at his house! He.... debates before he lets them in.

He is on edge about it as he officially introduces you to his family. You all really did not have any time for names or such when Cazador was still alive but now you are. He allows them to stay for dinner.

His siblings wanted to come thank you, officially and more completely than last time. And also get to know whoever the hell managed to give Astarion hope again.

It is extremely awkward at first, there isn't even enough room for them at the dinning table but.... you guys just start chatting about how life has been since things ended.

You hear about the vampires, how they are doing, and you get to meet his siblings. They are all damaged people but they are... nice people. Astarion is... kind of glad that they came.

Perhaps... they can have a relationships. Not forced siblings but... friends.

Willing friends.

[val-in-the-underdark]

Grief, Pt. 2

I have a thread on Twitter talking about Astarion's grief that I will bring over here eventually, but it's something I thought of again while trying a new path last night.

I'm halfway through Act 3 with Val and I decided to see what would happen if I didn't take Astarion to Cazador's (I've done this quest like 8 times so I'm just doing separate saves to try things out).

It's a pretty rough path to go because Astarion is understandably upset. You robbed him of his choice to ascend or not, and his story is all about lack of free will (he and his siblings are enslaved after all), among several other things.

But if he doesn't break up with you, he tells you that Cazador held up a lot of space in his life and now he feels empty.

The quote before this is that Astarion thinks he would have felt differently if he had killed Cazador himself, but even if you take him with you, he says he feels numb and empty (said here if you defeat Cazador before dealing with Lorroakan).

Several characters in the game have this in common like Dame Aylin, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll, who are all in different stages of mourning a loss. Losing a future. Losing family. Losing freedom.

Grief can be a non-linear process and not the same for everyone. The five stages often quoted are never in a straight line like you would think. You might feel angry right away and hold that for so long that you cycle through everything else later.

Astarion is angry for a lot of the game in part because he's grieving; he was young and then enslaved for centuries with nothing to call his own. He has lost everything including his sense of self, something he will have to rebuild over again after the ending of his quest, The Pale Elf. How he does that is up to you, but with Cazador gone, it's no wonder he feels lost after two centuries.

Lastly, and I find this interesting, is the conversation that Tav/Durge can have when about to kill Cazador (again, if you decide not to take Astarion).

I think that all the evidence you encounter in the palace and in the dungeon isn't there to make you feel bad for Cazador (I mean, you could but you'd be a better person than me LOL). The purpose of Vellioth's lessons and this particular dialogue, etc. is to foreshadow Astarion's potential transformation into the Vampire Ascendant.

Ascended Astarion is a new kind of vampire, yes, but he's still a full vampire. He's not 100% outside of the mentality that full vampires have. For instance, when he first tells you about Cazador in Act 1, he says that vampires are scheming and power-hungry beasts.

This is evidenced by things you find in Cazador's Palace including the fact that he was hosting a final "feast" before the ascension ritual where he was gathering information (pretty sure this person said they worked at the Counting House).

Ascended Astarion is doing something similar in the epilogue when he tells you to bring any secrets right back to him - he's scheming and biding his time just like Cazador.

While we don't know exactly is going through Astarion's mind when he ascends, I sometimes wonder if there is a layer of him trapped like Cazador. I've argued in another thread that I don't think Ascended Astarion will fully deal with his past the way Spawn Astarion has to in order to move on, but maybe I'll re-post that or revise that for another time.

Anyway, while this path is interesting for lore reasons if you really love Astarion, it does feel hollow and anti-climatic because there's a lot of emotional payoff in the final confrontation.

[thecw-unicorn]

A Quiet Night

Astarion x Tav

Summary: After settling down in Rivington for the night, Astarion has a disturbing and vivid nightmare involving his master and Tav.

TW: non-con elements, blood drinking, emotional/psychological abuse, Cazador just in general.

The camp had quieted down to a soothing hum. Mostly everyone had gone back to their tents, leaving just Astarion and the dying campfire. Tav was particularly exhausted after the day, already retiring to her bedroll in their tent.

Their tent.

The phrase still made Astarion’s undead heart flutter. It was quickly becoming his favorite part of their journey, winding down for the night together. Sometimes they would immediately go to sleep, comfortable and quiet together. Other times, they spend hours talking about anything and everything. He gathered his things, and entered the tent, seeing Tav all snugly bundled up, sleeping quietly. The urge to smile was overwhelming and strong. He laid down on his own bedroll, using the sound of Tav’s heartbeat and steady, soothing deep breaths to focus and ground him as the darkness took over.

Astarion couldn’t place exactly what had awoken him, but once he heard a startled gasp, he was fully awake. He rolled over, haphazardly searching for a weapon, and finally saw what had caused that piercing noise.

Cazador.

Cazador, on top of Tav, his knees on her thighs, and arms holding her pinned to the ground. Tav had her head turned away, her eyes closed tightly, as if trying to block out every sensation she was feeling.

Cazador looking at Astarion with a knowing, cruel smile on his lips. Astarion couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t fathom the sight before him. It had happened, Cazador had gotten his hands on Tav, finally finding out about them. He knew should he reach for anything, her throat would be promptly and messily ripped out, left to suffocate on her own blood.

“Please. Please, don’t hurt her. Let her go. You have me, I’m the one you want.” Astarion said immediately, trying to diffuse the situation, or bargain to spare Tav.

Pointless. Waste of time. Cazador doesn’t show mercy to anybody.

“Pathetic as always, my boy. Abandoning your family. Running off with cattle! And now, becoming involved with this…”, he says the word so full of contempt, dripped with venom and hatred.

Astarion was practically paralyzed in fear. The last thing he wanted was to go back willingly to Cazador, or worst of all, Cazador getting his hands on Tav. But now it’s happened, and Astarion can do nothing but stumble his way through this in hopes they both make it out in on piece.

Knowing Cazador, that was near impossible.

“What is it about this one, hmm? What is it about her that has you so distracted?” Cazador looks down at Tav, encouraged by her soft whimpers, his face changing to a more soft look. He runs his fingers through her hair, in a mocking expression of tenderness.

Astarion scrambles for something, anything to get Cazador off and away from her.

“She’s nothing, nobody!” Astarion helplessly insisted.

Cazador laughed, a cruel and mocking sound. “I don’t need to compel you to know you're lying, boy. You feel something for her, don’t you? Or you’ve convinced yourself you do.”

Cazador shifted his gaze to Tav, still pinned under him. “I suppose I can’t entirely blame you. She does smell…so delicious.” He practically moaned at the last bit. “And rather powerful too, isn’t she? Mmm, perhaps I’ll keep her.”

Astarion froze. Keep her? Why would he do that? If he truly did ascend and sacrifice him and his siblings, why keep Tav? Just to further torment you his brain whispered to himself.

He looks around, while Cazador is still focused on Tav and her alluring scent. He spots one of his daggers and stealthy palms it into his hand. Just as he’s rising, Cazador makes his move.

“Don’t you even think about it, boy. You insolent pup.” Cazador’s power washed over Astarion, pushing down and making him complicit.

Gods. It felt like forever ago he was compelled, the long journey making him forget it. That icy feeling taking over, his body being nothing more than Cazador’s toy puppet to be bent at his own amusement.

Astarion sees Tav’s face; her face of sheer and utter terror, and he whimpers. He can’t remember if he’s ever seen her like this. All throughout their adventure, he’s seen her display countless acts of bravery and courage, bordering on stupid, to help others around her. He doesn’t recall ever seeing any flicker of fear on her face then. Not like now. Not like she is, trembling under his master.

Cazador turns his attention back to Tav, his face changing to a smile, one that turns Astarion’s stomach if even possible. He reaches out, gently stroking her hair and caressing her face, and all Astarion can think of is all the times he’s touched Tav similarly, in the comfort and seclusion of their tent. His stomach churns at Cazador’s faux sweetness and affection.

He leans downward, and inhales Tav’s scent. Then without hesitation, drives his fangs into her neck.

Tav gasps at the shock and pain of the intrusion, at the sheer force and intensity of it. Astarion, even the first night when he was starving, always was as gentle as can be, always careful with how much he took.

Cazador, on the other hand, was aggressive and greedy. He held her firmly in place, as she tried to buck him off of her, to keep him from draining her dry. He holds her tightly in place, barely allowing any movement aside from her fingers and toes.

She can feel the fight quickly draining with her blood, as he drinks, and drinks, and drinks. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even give her a moment to gather her breath or her bearings.

Astarion sees it too. He sees her fighting cease and her body going still and knows that Cazador feels it too. He can almost see the smirk on his master’s face right about now. He can smell her sweet, alluring blood in the air, and can tell Cazador isn’t being neat or clean about it either. Whether it was from his own hunger or to further taunt Astarion, he couldn’t tell.

Just when she could feel the darkness pulling at her and her eyelids becoming impossible to stay open, Cazador pulls back, but not before running his tongue over her puncture wounds on her neck, careful not to miss a single bead of her blood.

He holds the back of her head in his hand, with his arm on her shoulder, his lips smeared with her blood, and a small bit dribbling down his mouth. Tav can barely process the scene before her, too lightheaded and lacking in blood to understand or notice.

“Mmm. Now I see why my boy liked you so much,” Cazador says, while caressing the side of her cheek with his hand. Astarion knew he couldn’t move, but he could still speak.

“Enough! You have me! Let her go, and just take me back already!” He yells. He doesn’t know what to think, what to do, with him here. He has him right where he wants him, what more could he possibly want?

It was never that simple with Cazador.

“Oh? Did you not hear what I said before stupid, wretched child? I want her, too.” He stares at her, her face pallid from the blood loss. “She’ll be my new spawn once I’ve ascended. And will forever remember that it’s your fault she’s mine.”

Oh no. Astarion thinks, with cold dread slicing through him. Tav, his Tav—sweet, kind-hearted Tav, who went around giving her gentleness and grace to so many they had met on their journey, and still fierce and courageous against their foes—a spawn. Not just that, but Cazador’s spawn. The thought makes Astarion want to vomit rentlessly, over and over again. And not just that, but his for eternity.

The rules, the endless hunger, ever-present fear of doing something wrong, the countless acts of torture for no reason other than his master’s amusement, all of that being subjected to Tav. Astarion can barely fathom the depths of the horror and terror.

Before Astarion can think next, Cazador reaches out to him, grabbing his arm roughly before cloaking them all in a red mist—

Astarion jolts roughly, awakened from his hellish nightmare.

He looks around, frantically taking in his surroundings. He still sees the tent, but just him and Tav. He sees the opening of the tent flapping from the gentle breeze outside, the moon shining brightly.

He looks over and sees Tav, still sleeping soundly in her bundle of blankets.

He’s not here. He’s not here. I am with Tav. Tav is with me. Tav is safe. We are in our tent in Rivington. He tells himself to calm down. He didn’t even need to breathe in this undead body, but couldn’t help himself. As if not breathing would make the horrid nightmare true.

He stares at Tav, taking all of her in. Sleeping on her side, her hair messy from sleep, a usually endearing sight to the pale elf, if he weren’t still reeling from his dream. Her arms were wrapped around a stuffed bear they’d picked up from some seller in town nearby.

He moves closer to her, brushing some of the hair away from her face, and noting, thankfully, no new puncture marks on her neck from a vampire lord.

He doesn’t want to even think about it, Tav as his spawn, yet the thought forms anyways. Enduring the rules, the punishments, the senseless torture, whoring herself out to lure in fresh meals for the master…

He quickly shakes his head, trying to dispel the idea from going further and further. He moves over towards Tav, careful not to wake her. She’d be doing so much. Not just for him, but for everybody in their group. The least he could do is afford her some well earned sleep.

He gently wraps his arms around Tav, trying to find her heartbeat and focus on it. He buries his nose in her hair, breathing her scent in deeply, attempting to ingrain it forever in his brain.

She’s okay. She’s safe. She’s with me. He doesn’t have her.

He repeats the mantra over and over into his head, until he falls back intro his trance.

[randoimago]

I'm curious... how do you think a relationship between Astarion and a dampir would go? Would he harbor some envy towards his partner where they not only have vampiric strength but also freedom and able to walk in the sun without the tadpole.

With a Dhampir Reader

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): now I have brain rot about Astarion with dhampir reader that's the child of Cazador and how unbelievably angsty and dark that would be because no way would it work out (also it would get 1000x worse with Ascendant Astarion)

I also wrote this more as platonic w/ beginnings of pining at the end

Astarion

He disguises his sadness and envy by telling himself that he hates you. Being fortunate enough to have the abilities of a vampire but you can still have your own life. You're not a slave to anyone or yourself and so he hates you because it's easier to hate than to admit his true feelings and be perceived as weak.

He doesn't say it though. Hiding any and all emotions behind a smile and flirtatious glances. Any fire in his eyes that might be perceived as passion, is in fact his envy that you're allowed the happiness with your life that he never had except when he was just an elf.

And does he tell you these feelings? The deep seated depression he has, the jealousy he feels over your fortune? Of course not, you'll just be another notch in his belt and he'll try his best to limit any time with you as possible. Even if he finds different feelings growing as he watches from afar, it's spite that keeps him from wanting to actually talk about his feelings.

Taglists: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[thelikesoffinn]

Hi! I just discovered your blog today and I read quite a few of your answer and analysis for Astarion, god, they are super good, I am totally agree with you. Although I love and agree non-ascended Astarion is the best ending for him, because he face and resolve with his past self or his past (something like that), I feel more interested in ascended Astarion because it is much more drama and conflicts and interesting as a story. Non-ascended Astarion has such a perfect and complete good ending is actually not much to fanfic about (in my POV, fanfic motivation is something you want to make up for them or for the character because there is repentant)

Your analysis really give me very good insights, and everything aligned with the new PATCH 6 kiss content, which that really cause a great impact on how I review ascended Astarion (AA). I thought AA was twist and possessive but he is still very in "love" with Tav, and he do feel the dark desire but his past will be a good lecture to sort of teaching him to endure, of course he will manipulate Tav, but not in such a surface way, it should be much deeper and deeper, all with high-skilled PUA tricks and so on, where Tav don't even notice he is being manipulated and AA can easily get what he want with little price. (it seems some Baldur's gate setting book mention about some vampire will use loyal, love to avoid the vampire bride to bring destruction to both of them, which some said AA might actually turn Tav into a bride but not a spawn or a vampire, if AA is telling the truth he gave his blood to Tav)

Well, that was just some past story, PATCH6 apparently does not support what I think AA is anymore(?). So I am thinking if I can mumble some of my fanfic ideas before PATCH6 with you as I really interested what will be your thoughts.

To better punish AA, which I think it is not normal if AA don't have to pay any price at all to get no-belong-to-his-power in such a evil way, AA will become more and more greedy that can never be satisfy, he was so desired for not just Tav belongs to him, but probably Tav's love and all Tav's attention and so on. However, my setting for Tav is a bit dull and not that emotional person, and not possessive at all, which could be said a perfect punishment to AA if AA is so possessive to him(Tav), Tav even not very into sex, he enjoy sex, but not really spending a lot of time to have it that sort of person (so what AA thought he is good at is not that useful for Tav). Tav is a genius human wizard that is much powerful than AA, even he is ascended, so no matter how badly AA is desired, he won't make things too unpleasant, simply because he is not capable of, he won't be able to win over Tav if there is ever a war broke out between them (yes, not just a fight). At the same time, Tav did spoiled AA so much that's why he is not a very evil person but agreed to help the ascend ritual because he found it hard to reject AA, even though he did not think this is healthy and good for Astarion at all. Tav also has his academic personality that although he spoiled AA, if AA interpreted his research over a level, he will get furious that AA probably won't want to encounter (who know what a wizard can do with knowing so much spells). So Tav is sort of rational person and also don't know much how to be a good boyfriend (he is the first time), like what responsibility should be taken and he should stop his boyfriend doing silly thing at the right time etc and only know to spoil Astarion if it is not too bad for their team. So the story begins with AA self-thought that Tav seems to be more calm after becoming a vampire, probably less interested or attracted to AA, and AA is so desperate to be more possessive to Tav but he couldn't do it in a violence way, and seducing way is not that effective as well.... that sort of punishment dramatic story, I am curious with this kind of setting, what do you think AA would do or how does he thought on that based on your brilliant opinion on vampire evil side?

(Sorry if the English is very bad as it is not my mother language)

Hiya there, Flower!

Another ask that has been sitting for centuries, I’m so so sorry! But here I am on the off chance that you’re still interested in what I have to say! (Not blaming you if you don’t, I wouldn’t wait for my sorry arse either haha.)

Ascended Astarion IS a very interesting topic and I totally agree on the fanfiction front – as someone who loves drama and angst, ascended Astarion is a feast. He serves up all that gooey, bone crushing angst and heartbreak without even properly trying, it’s riveting. Personally, I’m rather partial to the idea of Tav enduring years as his spawn before finally stepping into the sun because that outcome just feels insanely realistic to me.

Can I drop praise for other people in the middle of these asks? Ah you know what, I’ll just do it! So: There’s this one animatic on YouTube that is essentially exactly this situation and I absolutely love it. It’s awesome, I watch it at least once a week and this is it:

So good, really so so good!

Back to you:

The Patch 6 kisses were such a perfect addition to his character, I love all of them. And, as you said, they so clearly show what ascended Astarion has become and they make it very clear that there is really little….well little romance left. It’s about possession and power and the animations are just chefs kiss and make that so so clear.

And I do think Astarion actually plans on turning Tav not into a mere spawn, but into his consort which is, essentially, his partner. But, to be entirely honest, I don’t see Astarion and Tav pulling a Mordroka/Khulzond anytime soon. He’s just not quite the type for that, judged by the behaviours he showed throughout the game – both ascended and as a spawn. Consorts are full vampires with free will and Astarion is deeply mistrustful a lot of the time. He expects to be stabbed in the back by just about anyone – because why wouldn’t they – and Tav retaining free will AND gaining awesome new powers? Yeah, no, that’s dangerous.

Now to your idea:

Honestly, I wouldn’t even call that a punishment but just a very real consequence. Astarion likely will NEVER have enough of anything because vampires rarely do. Greed is often one of their biggest flaws, so I absolutely see that happening.

And with Tav being a bit more stoic and rational? That’s beautiful a mess and a half waiting to happen. Just like you said, that would be something very difficult for even spawn Astarion – the boy needs to feel loved even if he acts like he doesn’t, let’s all agree on that – but ascended Astarion? That man needs to be revered. Simple love is not enough.

If we take Tav’s more stoic and dampened nature and combine it with Astarions underlying paranoia,  this could make for a very beautiful case of “Astarion spiralling”.

I think he could very easily convince himself that Tav, being all stoic, is somehow planning to get rid of him because, with all the confidence and traipsing about we see in ascended Astarion, I don’t think his delusions of grandeur run too deep. There are some parts of Astarion in there and Astarion tends to smell smoke where there is no fire. (Example: Immediately thinking the Gur hunter was sent by Cazador, while Cazador is actually just chilling in his crypt, wondering where that pesky arse spawn of his ran off to this time.)

I’m actually not 100% sure how Astarion would handle this, because you stated that he can’t be too confrontational because Tav is much stronger than he is and he won’t be able to win if it came to a head. Astarion is not much of a planner, but he does have a thing for overwhelming advantage if his intense craving for power and armies is to be believed and, if he doesn’t have that, I think he would resort to what he’s best at – manipulation and backstabbing.

How he would go about it entirely depends on context, I’m sure you can come up with something awesome!

Once again, I’m sorry for making you wait this long and I hope you have a lovely lovely day! ♥

[nellyofthevalley]

ascendant, ch.3

astarion x fem!tav x gale

rating: explicit content: extremely DUBCON, abusive relationships, emotional manipulation, dead dove, use of aphrodisiac, m/m/f threesome, questionable emotional infidelity summary: this is a sad story about the transformation of ascended astarion's love for tav into a vampire's dark desire. obsession. possession. astarion says he would've 'ruined your love, used your trust until it was nothing'. that's this. and it's not just her he'll ruin.

Gale questions where they left things years ago, wondering if they’d laid their feelings aside too soon. He still thinks of her, more often than he likes to admit to himself. He introduced her to his mother a few months before the end and they got along annoyingly well. They were an unstoppable duo, teaming up and conspiring against him—in his own childhood home! He considered himself lucky that Tara stayed behind at his tower, he couldn’t tolerate another co-conspirator. When they split, he expected a lecture from Mrs. Dekarios on losing yet another good one. It hurt worse when she withheld her chastising. 

chapters: ch.1 | ch.2 | ch.3 | ch.4 | ch.5 | ch.6

read it on ao3 or below the cut:

Shadowheart doesn’t stay late. Gale does. Near midnight, he begins saying his goodbye and Tav can’t keep herself from convincing him to stay. She feels a little guilty for it, but it’s the first time she’s seen a real friend in almost a year and she can’t let him slip through her fingers. 

Not again. Tav already let him get away once, as lovers, and that was hard enough. 

“Stay! We would be so honored to have you,” she says. “We have a guest room, but so rarely have guests over.”

“I appreciate your invitation, but I really should head back to my home,” Gale responds, though his lack of resolve shows and Tav knows she can get him to stick around, even if not long. “I’m sure Tara is worried sick, and I’ve a stack of poetry I picked up and have yet to read—”

“Just for a few nights,” she insists. “Please?”

There’s something about her that he can’t refuse, and besides, there’s always a little risk in teleportation when inebriated…

Gale questions where they left things years ago, wondering if they’d laid their feelings aside too soon. He still thinks of her, more often than he likes to admit to himself.

Ah, in a second, it rushes back in. 

He introduced her to his mother a few months before the end and they got along annoyingly well. They were an unstoppable duo, teaming up and conspiring against him—in his own childhood home! He considered himself lucky that Tara stayed behind at his tower, he couldn’t tolerate another co-conspirator.

‘Can we just stay over a few nights? Please?’ she said with her hands together and eyes wide, gazing at him the way a box of kittens left in the rain would. Obviously he conceded and said yes, so they stayed with his mother for a full week, the two terrorizing him and surfacing embarrassing childhood memories. 

It was cute and he loathed it. 

When they split, he expected a lecture from Mrs. Dekarios on losing yet another good one. It hurt worse when she withheld her chastising. 

“I’ll show you to your room.”

It’s decadent for a guest room, filled with anything a visitor could need. A private bathroom, a large bed, a wardrobe and plenty of windows with curtains to pull or retract as desired. Tav shuts the door behind them and shows him through the room, excitedly informing him where he could keep his clothes, how to call a servant if needed and oh, look how large the bath is!

On her way back out, she loiters by the door, like she can’t bring herself to open it and walk out. Her gaze lingers on Gale’s and in the back of her mind she remembers, ‘I could share your body’. 

That’s all it would be, of course. The love died out, it’d be nothing but a tryst. If he even accepted, considering Gale’s always been a serial monogamist, yet how he stares back at her gives her hope, as if she can see just from his eyes that there’s still affection for her inside… ah, she’d pay just for the thought, but…

She’s known ever since she offered to walk him to his room that she has to try. He isn’t seeing anyone, he revealed as much at dinner. And she thinks if she’s lucky that perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence and he was thinking about being with her, too. She knows if she doesn’t, she could spend forever regretting it; she could easily spend eternity locked up here and never again experience sex with any form of sweet, genuine love again. 

“I miss you.”

It falls out of her mouth and this is not how she intended for this to go, not at all. 

“Tara misses you. I suppose I do, too,” he admits. “From time to time.” 

It all seems to happen in an instant; his lips crushing hers, that ancient yet familiar scent of persimmons crawling up her nose, his rough hands lifting her shirt before sliding underneath and exploring her body once again. Tav doesn’t waste a single moment before kissing back and her hands hastily pull at the waistband of his pants. Maybe it’s the rush of being together again, or maybe he’s just drunk, but he doesn’t recoil or try to slip away like she expects him to. He welcomes her, he groans into their kiss and slips his tongue past her mouth while she unbuttons him just enough to get her hand through, stroking his quickly stiffening cock.

Tav guides him backwards towards the bed until he hits it by the back of his knees and she gently coerces him down onto it, sitting at the edge. She pushes his legs apart just enough to squeeze between and gets on her knees by choice, and she’s too caught up in all of it to give anything a second thought. 

She wants this—she wanted to do it for Astarion too, but not the version of him that she was given. 

“Tav…” Gale starts to say, but he can’t finish his thought, whether he’s lost his mind or is simply possessed he couldn’t say, but suddenly the only thing on his mind is how she’ll look with her lips around his cock, vampire lord be damned. 

She pulls off his pants and grips his length in one hand, the other on his thigh. Gale leans back on his palms and watches her slowly take him back, fisting the sheets as she takes him in further and further, her cool mouth around his warm cock a  surprisingly pleasant sensation. Gale shuts his eyes, certain if he saw her pleasuring him now he’d come fucking instantly and it’s too much too fast, he wants to savor this, burn it into his brain. 

The door creaks open. 

Gale looks up at the noise, and it’s Astarion walking through the door. But it’s far too late for him to salvage this, he catches a glimpse of Tav, her hair creating a messy frame around her face and her mouth feels so—

He comes violently and grabs her hair, body set aflame and shaking but she doesn’t relent. Tav lightly sucks and pumps his cock until she’s coaxed out every last drop and eagerly swallows while Astarion watches from the doorframe. 

“My dear, you’ve been busy, haven’t you?” Astarion greets, approaching them with all the calm in the world, as if he’s someone else entirely and not the stone-hearted Lord Tav’s come to know him as.

She turns to look at him and wipes the stray bit of come from her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Please,” she says, completely out of her fucking mind, “join us, love.”

The most demented part is that he does and Gale doesn’t object to it. Astarion strides over like it’s the most normal thing in the world and kneels down beside her. 

He takes her chin in his hand and rotates her to face him, not kindly, but not the cruel way he usually did, either; no, it’s rough, rough in the way Tav likes it and she immediately kisses him, harshly yanking at his shirt collar and pulling him into her. She unbuttons his shirt and tastes his lips and then his tongue with hers, needy, like she might simply fall apart if she doesn’t have all of him. 

Above her, Gale sits up, already hardening again far too soon and he starts to stroke his cock in one hand and grabs her hair with the other, all while she’s kissing another man and for whatever reason he’s delighting in it. 

“Truly a sight to behold,” he notes. “I’ve seen many beautiful sights in my years and read of even more, but you two bless my weary eyes in a manner I can’t articulate.”

Astarion slips out of his undone shirt before guiding Tav’s red dress over her head and in eerie silence he positions both of them; he takes Gale’s hand and guides him down on his back in the middle of the bed, then pulls Tav up and pushes her to her hands and knees over Gale. 

“Isn’t this what you’ve been dreaming of, my little love?” he asks, a whisper to her ear as he settles behind her, knees to the bed and hard cock prodding through his trousers to her ass. “To be feasted on by both of us?” 

“Y-yes,” she answers nervously, too deep in this to bother trying to save face or back out now. “Are you sure…”

“More than,” Astarion says, his hands on her thighs leading them forward until she’s straddling Gale. “And you, wizard?”

He turns her to face him again, kissing her hard enough to bruise and inhaling the moans she makes as Gale rocks his hips upwards, almost painfully sliding along her slit and coating his cock in her fluids. 

“Positive,” Gale finally speaks as he grabs her waist in his hands and holds her still while he penetrates her; his grip grows tighter as he pushes in further until he’s buried as far as he can go. “You—you have an inexplicably treacherous effect on this lonely wizard,” he continues, starting shallow thrusts while she adjusts to him inside her. 

Tav hears the rustling of pants before Astarion’s arms reach around and pull her backwards, squeezing her chest tight against his and groping her breasts. She feels his cock rubbing against her ass, teasing her while Gale so slowly tortures her from the front and Astarion forces two fingers into her mouth. Tav greedily licks and sucks until he’s satisfied and he moves downward to roll, pinch and tug at a nipple with his chilly, wetted fingers. 

“You are performing exceptionally,” Gale praises. “Alarmingly exceptional, I fear. Ah—a perfect fit.”

“Astarion, Gale, it’s—it’s too much,” she whimpers, overwhelmed, feeling like her heart might’ve started again and like her stomach’s on fire when she looks down and sees herself wrapped around his thick cock. 

“Listen to him, darling,” Astarion says, his fingers moving from her nipple to her cunt and bathing in her wet arousal dripping around Gale’s cock. “You’re doing wonderfully, you were made for this.”

His fingertips prod at her asshole, entering and carefully curling and stretching her as Gale starts to pick up his pace and she can’t fucking thinkanymore.

“Fuck,” she curses when Astarion replaces his fingers with his cock, entirely consumed by both of them. 

They match one another’s rhythm and fuck into her at the same time as she whines and continues her cursing. Astarion pulls at her hair and demands her attention again, consuming her in his kisses for a brief moment before his kisses continue down her neck and he allows her to share her love with Gale. 

Astarion buries his head in the crook of her neck and bares his fangs, pressing into the indents he made earlier, still fresh enough to bear little scabs. 

Gods, is this really the same day? Just this afternoon he’d spilled all over her face and belittled her, and now…

He bites down, coaxing out a lewd cry as he split her skin again with his teeth, and his thrusts become harsher and less disciplined as her red, sweet like honey washes down his tongue and throat and it’s invigorating. He jerks her head back by the hair as he drains her and fucks into her ass, earning him a slew of breathy groans and her hand reaching up to scratch at his face in desperation.

She clenches her face, eyes shut, and it feels like the two of them are fighting over her with their grabs and tugs at every part of her body, and the moans they vocalize with her sandwiched between is a feeling incomparable to anything else. Tav feels hotter than she ever did when her heart still beat and she comes, clinging onto Gale arms so tightly, his tainted blood seeps from her little scrapes.

Gale claws at Tav as soon as Astarion parts from her neck, her blood dripping from her neck down to his chest and he pulls her down, down until her breasts are squished tight to his chest and he practically yells, “Tav—fuck, I can’t—ah!”

He tries to thrust into her faster but Gods, he’s paralyzed, her cunt forcing out his own orgasm as she tenses around his cock and kisses him again, heated and sloppy, the last of her restraint gone.

Astarion’s right behind, bending forward and setting his weight over Tav; he sends a shiver through her recovering body as he drags this tongue along her weeping wounds, not permitting a single drop go to waste.

“Come,” she commands, and he does.

In less than a second, Astarion finds his release and comes inside her, filling her past what she can take and his come leaks out around his cock.

“You’re a devil, my love,” he says, struggling to hold himself up and he nearly collapses on top of her.

He pulls out and rolls aside, taking her with him, and she gasps as she goes from being filled, overflowing, to empty. She rests her head on Gale’s chest and playfully swirls fingertips over his hairs, recalling the nights they spent at the top of the tower nearly exactly the same way. 

Though never with a third. 

“You kept the wizard all to yourself,” Astarion teases after a few minutes pass, although she can feel something darker behind it—something she can’t quite place, but it just doesn’t feel right. “My selfish consort, would you like to watch us?”

Watch them? Watch her partner in eternity and former lover, together? She can’t imagine Gale would even want it…

But despite the uncertainty she spies on his face when she looks up to him, his cock twitches at the idea and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Astarion moves to the opposite side of Gale, running a hand across the man’s chest and finding Tav’s. Their fingers weave together and Tav’s face flushes—not only from the intimacy of it, how much she missed this, but she’s still bewildered by the suggestion alone. 

Gale almost looks lost, but it all washes away when Astarion sits up and tenderly lays his other hand on Gale’s face and pulls him in for a sickeningly soft kiss, the type of kiss Tav yearns for and rarely receives. Though, she’d be lying to say the two of them in front of her didn’t have it’s appeal… already, she feels the warmth rising between her legs again and a short trail of arousal mixed with Gale’s come slithers down her thighs, onto the bed.

“I’ve never…”

Astarion takes control and slips his tongue past Gale’s lips before he finishes his thought, mingling with his and tasting every bit it can reach. 

“Delicious,” he says as he pulls away and leaves Gale breathing heavily. 

Gale starts to question what he’s doing, if this is what he really wants, and he’s not sure yet. He still can’t think clearly, can’t bring himself to say anything or stop this. His heart pounds with both excitement and apprehension, but his body irrefutably craves the touch of another, incapable of being satiated; he wants Tav, he wants Astarion, he wants it all. 

“You’ve never…?” Tav asks, curiosity killing her. 

“Been with a man,” Gale finishes. “Nor a vampire, for that matter. Well, I hadn’t, but it seems that now…”

He’d crossed that one off mere minutes ago, and he’ll never forget it; he’ll never forget Tav’s cold body against his, how her cunt swallowed him whole and how the only warmth in her seemed to spring from the two men before her, only present where they fucked and tasted her. Oh, he feels enlightened, like he’s stumbled upon some forbidden knowledge; it’s no wonder people fantasize about lying with vampires, and if they knew how otherworldly it can truly be…

Astarion moves lower, raising Gale’s legs and settling them over his shoulders. For a moment, Tav thought he might even put his mouth on Gale—she’d give almost anything to witness it, but of course he doesn't, he would never. That sort of act is beneath him, an act that could be performed on him but never by him. Not anymore. 

Tav stays by Gale’s side, pressed as close to him as she can, intending to show him the kind love that she knows Astarion won’t. 

Astarion leans forward slightly, pushing Gale’s legs back, and he seeks out Tav’s body with his right hand. He finds the curve of her ass and trails a pointed nail over it, down and further in until he reaches her cunt, dripping in arousal, and slathers it all over his fingers before pushing them to Gale’s hole. 

“By Khelben’s staff! Tav, I—”

“It’s okay,” Tav soothes, guiding his hand to her cunt, and she’s absolutely pleased when he obliges and starts rubbing lazy little circles to her clit.

Gale inhales sharply and pauses his movements as Astarion breaches him with the tips of his slick fingers. Astarion mastered the art of seduction after two centuries of performances, and Gale’s reaping the benefits; he wonders if it always feels like this, or if it might’ve felt different with someone else. He never considered what it might be like to lay with a man, to be taken like this. It simply never crossed his mind, at least not to this level of detail.

But now, as Astarion pushes deeper and opens him from inside for the first time and Tav lies by his side, Gale feels a rush of anticipation flood through him. His mind’s clouded by it, thinking only of desire—more, please, he thinks, if Astarion’s this good with his hands, his cock will be divine.

“What do you want, my lover?” Tav asks, smearing the beads of precome at the tip of his cock across the head, stroking him and exhaling cool air on his neck as she kisses him and grinds her cunt into his hand, but it’s not enough, she needs more, more—

“My dearest, you,” he answers between deep breaths as Astarion starts to finger fuck him harder, preparing him. “Sit. Allow me to honor you again with my rather esteemed tongue.”

She recalls very well how practiced that wizard’s mouth is, more than once she’d playfully chided him for speaking instead of doing. She happily obeys, repositioning her legs on either side of Gale’s pillow and bracing herself by the top of the headboard. Before Gale even graces her with his touch, her arousal mixed with his own come drip onto his face, just from the heat of his breath on the inside of her thighs, and Gale laps it up like it’s a sweet nectar.

Tasting himself on her cunt is an experience that punches him in the gut. It’s obscene, it’s filthy, and he wouldn’t do it for anyone except her. He thinks he might do anything for her, dangerous as it may be. Astarion’s so close to him and his mind’s so rattled that for a second he ponders if his thoughts could be heard… if he could somehow sense that Gale would risk it all for her.

Astarion’s hand pulls out of Gale and he coats his cock in spit before lining up with Gale’s stretched ass. 

“Tell me you want it,” Astarion demands, barely nudging him and settling there until Gale tells him what he wishes to hear. 

Though, his cock says it all, nearly impossibly hard after already having finished twice and the precome seems to never stop, leaking and running down the shaft like a lit candle. It’s not human—he’s never experienced anything like this before—hardly subject a refractory period at all, orgasms beyond any he’d felt or even dreamt of before and somehow still not enough to satisfy; Gale feels like he could fuck for hours and still crave more. 

“Gods,” he mutters and he drags his tongue up Tav’s soaked folds, coaxing a moan from her lovely mouth, a sound he thinks he’d never tire of hearing. “I want it,” he admits. “Against all better judgment, I want—”

Astarion pushes in, fast, burying himself until Gale’s ass slaps against his hips and he groans so loudly that the fucking servants across the hall probably hear it. 

He sets a brutal, steady rhythm quickly, pushing Gale’s whole body back into the headboard with every thrust. Gale reaches behind Tav and pumps his neglected cock with one hand and grips her ass with the other. He pulls her closer, lapping at her wet slit with frenzied movements, tonguefucking her and thrusting into her as Astarion thrusts into him. 

“Ah—you’re more talented than I remember,” she whines, knuckles turning white from her harsh grip on the headboard. Her hips start to roll against his face involuntarily, like something has its grasp on her and she needs to come again, and soon.

Gale holds onto her like his life depends on it and flicks his tongue across her clit, relishing in the sweet sounds she creates.

For him. Because of him.

She feels release rising within her again; she grinds into his face and moans and black static creeps into her vision when Gale’s flicks turn into light sucking. He feels her tensing, feels her thighs attempt to shove in his ears and burst his brain and doesn’t relent, not even as Astarion fucks into him harder and harder. His cock quivers and his body trembles as he, too, nears the relief he’s chasing so fiercely. 

Tav arches her back and her hands fly from the headboard to his hair, pulling and aching and she fucking shouts his name as she comes on his face. After a few hasty strokes of his cock he groans deeply into her constricting cunt and ropes of warm semen spurt into his chest and hit her backside.

Astarion grabs Tav’s throat, jerking her back and bringing her lips to his. His kiss is greedy, hungry—he kisses her like he’s sucking the life out of her and bites her bottom lip when his orgasm hits, drawing blood and lapping it up; Tav tastes traces of her blood push back into her mouth. Astarion pulls out of Gale and with frantic tugs on his cock, draws out the rest of his come, mixing with Gale’s as Astarion paints his pretty stomach with it. 

Gale’s chest heaves up and down as the other two roll off him, again laying on either side as if they’re here to admire and adore him. 

Somehow, after all that, he still doesn’t feel sated. He still feels a burning throb inside, a never-ending need for attention on his eager cock until his body runs out of semen or simply passes out—or maybe he’d die from a heart attack first, at this rate. 

He swears he sees it in them as well. He swears Tav looks at him with an otherworldly desire and Astarion can’t be read at all by his face, but there’s an aura about him that just radiates hunger, a hunger different from the lust for blood.

Gale knows none of this is right. He knows this is all fucked up! And the worst part is that he can’t say no to it, he wants it too. 

Astarion knows it. He knows very well what’s bouncing around in Gale’s head—or his cock, rather. It’s all planned, it was planned far before he poured the spiked wine for them all, even earlier than when he wrote the party invites. 

A gift for his sweet little love. Outside of a few tantrums, she’s been on such good behavior lately.

[jcniper-backup]

One thing I think that's super interesting to explore is how Astarion would probably end up selling his soul to Mephistopheles anyway if he's unsupervised as the Vampire Ascendant in Canon. Or making some kind of deal. I could see Tav/Durge leaving him (or it's unromanced route) and he's super paranoid because now the person who spent all this time protecting him is no longer there and what do you mean everyone's treating him like a monster now? Why isn't everything better for him? Why is he hated and why do people want him dead?

Maybe he asks for more power or safety, or perhaps he does still feel emotions of some kind and wants them out of him so deals away the last good part of his soul. Either way, even if Larian is like oh its Canon he didn't sell his soul (wish they didn't do that yall should leave shit up to interpretation. Also bugs me because mechanics of the ritual not made clear but that's a different thought), I'm pretty sure he'd end up selling his soul post game at some point.

[wetcatspellcaster]

After the recent chapter I had to take a breather and re-read previous ones, where everything was (somewhat) fine.

The way Rose was disassociated because she could feel all the pain, but no fear. The way she was in and out of it. It felt like a very feverish nightmare. It's so painful to read how barely coherent Rose is through the torture, and still trying, trying to find a way out, or at least a reprieve. And the way I laughed at her lamenting on Bhaal's healers. It reminded me so much of the Mirror Universe of Star Trek, where medics were there only to revive enough, not heal.

Am I weird for reading how Orin tortures and still having that little voice say "hot" the way D!urge says to Astarion in the graveyard scene?

I love love love how you use the canon events and twist them just so to make it even more heart wrenching and nightmar-ish, because I always felt like it felt a little bit rushed, all the interactions and especially the aftermath. I love seeing the lingering result of what just happened, more details that were not there in the game.

But reading the torture Rose endured, and that Astarion had seen her after, I have a question. Had this happened in Pieces too? Was Rose kidnapped there too? Because if she was, then it makes Astarion's Ascension even more twisted. Like even in game, if Tav/Durge is his lover, Astarion is not convinced by anything beforehand not to go with the ritual. And if he had seen how horrific all those Chosen are, he could've wanted to Ascend to protect his lover. But he had also seen the injuries , the indignity, the hurt that was inflicted on someone he cares for, and that must sting so much. Oof, this a very interesting concept to think on, that I'm constantly dwelling on since I played the Durge.

Also, I can imagine there could be a fight. And with Rose in this condition... Well, I hope others will take care of it. And I wonder if Gortash is dead now.

I can imagine that Rose will shrug it off, at least pretending to do so, like she had done before, and I will be right there with everyone else enraged at her lack of self-preservation. Shower her with care, rest, and people who love her to make sure she knows she will never be alone. Poor Rose. The things she had survived, she will need years of therapy afterwards, beside the years it will take to sort her phobias. I want to hug her, but it will hurt right now, so I'll just stay here, crying over how strong she is, that she does not need to be that stoic herself that Threnn shaped her into, and I miss her goofiness when she loses that fear of being too emotional. I love her so much. I want her to be healed and as happy as possible.

Thank you for this chapter. I wish you to rest well after the con, and regain your energy with this blueberry cupcake I'm offering. Take care!

I will absolve everyone now, in this moment, like a priest: it is ok to find Orin the Red hot, in anything that I write. It is, in fact, intentional.

I will confirm, Rosalie didn't get kidnapped in Pieces! I sacrificed Grubb there (RIP to a real one), partly to keep my plot twists under wraps, partly so that Rosalie doesn't suffer more than Jesus Christ himself in any given universe, and partly bc I wanted to make one very silly joke about soup. But I do plan for the kidnapping to inflect Astarion's thoughts on Ascendency, perhaps not in the way people are expecting!!! There is something that was teased in Pieces that *is* canon.

And thank you, I'm glad that seeing consequences play out makes the fic interesting!!! In my Rosalie playthrough, she was never ever at risk bc she had a lot of plot armour (a very stressed save-scumming player). I realised early on, that if she sailed through Act 3 it wouldn't make for a very compelling read - lord knows I could see the 'Mary Sue' accusations coming from a mile off. So I thought I'd leverage her major flaws - her lack of self-preservation, her belief that she's more useful with a tadpoel than without one, and her complete lack of tact. Unfortunately, kidnapping is the perfect situation to hit a bunch of character beats for both Rosalie and Astarion, and the perfect place to start raising the issue of what advantages/disadvantages the tadpole provides her with... so I kind of had to do it to her :')

at least it's not a murder? I was thinking about killing her in an earlier outline :'))) at least it's not that right?