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chaoticbardlady99 · 7 months

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Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 astarion #astarion acunin #mental health #actually adhd #and anxious #and depressed

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djmorn · 6 months

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Anniversary

A/N: Kind of a fluffy piece because I was in one of those moods, but there do be smut!

Summary: One year has passed since the defeat of the Absolute, but Tav is in no mood to take part in the festivities organised by Duke Ravengard. To avoid having to make a public appearance as is expected of the heroine of Baldur’s Gate, she steals away, seeking the peace and quiet of her homestead. Unbeknownst to her she is followed by an old friend.

Wyll had followed his father’s speech with some heartfelt words of his own. It had been clear to see that his addressing the citizens of Baldur’s Gate was important to the noble heir and it reflected in his praise of their bravery and promises of a better future. A year had passed since the defeat of the Absolute, not nearly enough time to have healed every wound, rebuilt every building or erased every memory of the losses suffered, but Wyll’s empathetic nature could at least offer some comfort. It was good to see him in action again. Her friend seemed equally talented in the art of oration as he was with the blade and Tav gladly shared in the crowds’ jubilation and applause.

After all was said and done she sought him out, wanting to give her congratulations personally. Wyll graciously thanked her with a smile but was in a hurry to get going again.

‘Maybe we’ll see each other once the proper celebration starts,’ he said. ‘There will be music, hopefully also quite a bit of dancing, and the evening is to be accompanied by fireworks.’

He further ensured Tav of Karlach’s well-being and her apologies for not being able to attend the festivities, then excused himself in turn, having to rejoin his father and indulge him some more in political discussions. Tav understood. She was proud of her friend and how much he’d grown ever since their first meeting back in the Grove. Still, it would have been nice to have someone to talk to, someone she knew.

The once tadpoled party of adventurers had since disbanded, everyone busy with their own new lives. All except her. Tav had occupied her mind and hands by helping to rebuild the city but had found no greater personal purpose for herself. All things considered she appeared to be right back at the beginning: A tadpole-free and utterly anonymous life just as it was with most other citizen of Baldur’s Gate. Well, a few more people recognised her nowadays. Some of them were currently patting her shoulder as she made her way through the crowd once more; they offered their own congratulations, followed by questions if they could expect a speech from her as well. No way, she thought to herself while smiling at them.

Tav did not tell a single soul she was in no mood to make a public appearance. The sadness of her loneliness weighted heavier than ever and her encounter with Wyll seemed to have made it all the worse.

Was she really needed here in the first place? Would anyone even notice her absence? A handful of folks might find it peculiar, but really now: Wyll was able to make up for all of them. And the former warlock himself would be busy enough with all sorts of people seeking his attention tonight. Who was there to dance with her? Or watch the fireworks with? No one really if Tav seriously thought about it. So what harm would be in instead spending the rest of the day far away from the festivities, indulging in the peace and quiet offered by her homestead? Not much really. She would be no more lonelier than here.

The crowd’s attention was drawn towards the podium again as Volo was now occupying it, and Tav took her chance and sneaked off, removing herself from the eyes of the madding crowd and any wonderment at her own, now brimming with tears.

She managed to escape notice of all but one. Against the corner of a quiet alley the devil leaned as he watched the heroine of Baldur’s Gate remove herself from any opportunity to bask in the glory and adoration of the public, leaving Raphael himself rather disappointed: Surely she would have given a more interesting speech than the sanctimonious rigmarole of the Ravengard boy. With keen eyes he watched after her disappearing figure. Was she to go home so soon? And here he had been hoping to pay her a surprise visit, for old times’ sake.

Without clear purpose Raphael followed the reluctant heroine. Maybe a more personal meeting would be preferable anyways, and he might also finally get so see how his little misadventurer lived.

He was lead towards a remoter part of the city. Tav quite obviously preferred a home as best as possible removed from the bustling streets and main gathering places, a realisation very much to his liking.

He watched her approach a multistorey house which offered a nice outlook over the Chionthar river. Good for her.

Tav did not look around before entering her home, and Raphael remained out of sight as she closed the door. He stood were he was a while longer, wondering what he was hoping to gain from an encounter with her. It was clear that the woman was of no mind to entertain the company of her fellow citizens, and he figured she would be even less keen to welcoming a devil into her need for privacy. And yet…

Having never thanked her for the delivery of the Crown weighted on his desire to appear polite and proper, always taking pride in his superior demeanour and charms compared to devil-kin and mortals alike. Raphael remembered he had even proposed a dinner to her as well as the chance to sample from his luxurious collection of wine. Better get this whole ordeal done with as promptly as possible so he could finally check off this pending arrangement. And what better opportunity than the anniversary of her triumph?

The knocking on her door was unexpected to say the least. Why was there still someone besides her not attending the celebration? Did one of her neighbours see her? And if so, why did they take her coming home earlier as an invitation to idle chit-chat and meaningless small-talk?

Nevertheless, Tav got up again with a sigh and approached the door. When she opened it she wondered for a brief moment if this whole day had not been a dream after all.

‘Raphael?’

‘Well, hero. Long time no see.’

‘Um, yes,’ she said, still astonished at the sight of the devil on her doorstep. Why had he come for her? All their dealings had been resolved to mutual satisfaction, with him the owner of an all-powerful crown to rule the Nine to his dark heart’s desires, and her… Well, she had her peaceful little life back, didn’t she? No more tadpole to complain about and a city saved. Raphael had no reason to begrudge her anything.

‘Would you like to come in?’ she asked, fully expecting him to decline. He probably had even more urgent business to attend to nowadays, following his dreams of becoming Archdevil Supreme, and would be loathe to spend any more time than necessary in the mortal realm. His call would be a quick one.

Instead he smiled at her: ‘An admirable display of manners. Thank you kindly.’ And the devil brushed passed her, entering her home.

It was a peculiar thing to have Raphael standing in her living room, taking in his surroundings, the state of her furnishings, and herself. Tav folded her hands uncomfortably.

‘Have a seat,’ she offered, trying to relieve both of them of the tension. She joined him at her small dinner table. ‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? I thought you would be busy conquering the Hells by now.’

Raphael leaned back with crossed arms, tapping his fingers on his upper arm. ‘I do not expect you to understand these things but overthrowing the Nine requires certain… preparations. And I always plan to perfection.’

How very condescending of him. Nice. Raphael seemed to have not changed a bit.

‘Nevertheless I owe you thanks for bringing me the Crown. It will be put to good use in time, rest assured.’ He started rubbing his chin in thought. ‘I realised I never showed you my gratitude in person.’

Tav shrugged. ‘We had a deal. One we both held up to. As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing left to be said. Although your courtesy is not lost, not even on me.’ Did Raphael not understand the concept of a simple thank-you card?

‘I promised you a dinner.’

‘I did not realise you were being serious about that,’ she said, eyebrows raised.

‘You wound me,’ he said, putting a hand over his chest. ‘It seems you don’t know me at all.’

She regarded him, lost in thought for a moment. Raphael was right: She didn’t know him, not truly. What was he looking to gain from this strange visit? Tav wanted to be alone, not looking to spar with the trying devil.

‘I apologise, Raphael, but I’m not in the mood today.’

‘Clearly. Seeing as you were so eager to flee the festivities, made in honour of your very triumph at that.’

‘The only person there I care about is Wyll… and Volo, I guess. Both of them have far better things to do than mingle with an old friend.’

Raphael looked at her, rubbing his hands together, a wicked smile forming at his lips. ‘Ah, I understand. You miss your friends. Neither of which have made any effort to indulge you.’

She sighed. ‘Correct. Thank you for clarifying it so sympathetically.’

‘And still you are reluctant to indulge me in turn, despite my effort in coming to your realm, spending my precious time with you.’

Was he being serious? Putting himself above her friends who had stuck with her through their adventures, the hardships and all the fighting? Although it did struck Tav like the devil had a point. Whatever his true intentions may be he did still think of her and had indeed come to make conversation.

‘So you are telling me you really just wanted to what? Visit me?’

He shrugged innocently. ‘Why not? I thought you and I had a real friendship.’ And then Raphael snapped his fingers and upon the table appeared a feast for the eyes: A bowl of grapes, both red and green, a plate displaying a finely roasted duck bedded in a field of steaming potatoes, a basket full of baked bread, and even more bowls, some with apples, some with pears, and the two shiniest and beautiful pomegranates Tav had ever seen. In front of her and Raphael two plates had materialised, accompanied by two cups ready to be filled with the wine waiting in the bottle Raphael was holding in his hands. Tav was reluctant to admit it but the wonderful sight and smell of the food made her mouth water.

‘I’m afraid that is all we have room for,’ Raphael said, smiling benevolently. He began to fill Tav’s cup. ‘For a more lavish meal you’ll have to visit my House of Hope sooner or later, little mouse.’

‘You have to be joking. This is a lot more than what I’m used to.’

The devil raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You are the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Pray tell: Why don’t you treat yourself a bit more?’

‘It is as we’ve already discussed: None of my friends are left. What is there to celebrate? We defeated the Absolute and saved the city, our one mutual goal accomplished.’ Tav averted her eyes from his and started filling her plate with food. ‘Now I have to come to terms with the fact that that was not all to be had in life. I will have to find a new quest for that.’

‘Well,’ Raphael said, raising his cup. ‘To new quests and new horizons then.’

‘Yes,’ Tav said, clinking her cup to his reluctantly. ‘And thank you… for the food and drinks.’

‘I always uphold my promises, dear,’ Raphael said as he started to cut one pomegranate and offered half of the fruit to Tav.

They had attacked their meal with fervor and started to fall into more easy conversation, reminiscing in the adventures of the past year. Tav found that talking with Raphael was a lot more pleasant than she would have thought and quietly admitted to herself that his company had turned out to be a welcome one after all.

The sun had started to set, tinting the sky outside a pink shade and from the direction of the festivities they could hear the faint sound of music rising to a pleasant volume to go with their sumptuous repast coming to an end.

Listening to the cheerful melodies being played Tav felt that she dreaded their oncoming departure and just as she’d feared Raphael started to get up, dabbing his mouth and chin with a napkin, but instead of offering his goodbye he extended his hand towards her, a sly smile on his lips. ‘Care for a dance?’

Tav had to stifle a cough. Quickly she held up her hands. ‘Oh, thank you but… I don’t… I don’t think I’m all too good at it.’

‘Well, good thing then that I am,’ the devil said, hand now reaching out to hers, taking it with insistence but also an unexpected gentleness. ‘I will lead you.’

Raphael pulled her up towards him, placing his free hand on her waist. Tav’s skin prickled at the sensation. Keeping true to his word he started leading her through the room, baby steps first until they began to fall into a pleasant rhythm befitting the music.

‘See? It is a lot easier when you have someone to guide you, little mouse.’

‘Yes,’ she admitted, her hand on his shoulder relaxing a bit.

The orchestra fell into a more mellow tune and Raphael adjusted their pace to the softer piece. It was not lost on Tav how he slowly started to pull her closer to him. Their chests were touching now and she thought he’d for sure feel the beating of her heart against him. The devil smiled at the heroine in his arms.

Eventually the music died down and their dancing with it. Soon now Tav would know loneliness again. She never wanted this night to end. But Raphael did not let go of her hand. Instead he started dragging her up the stairs, Tav following silently, letting the devil continue to lead her through her own home. Once upstairs they made their way to the balcony that offered an outlook over the city.

She could hear the crowd cheering and the first firecrackers were set off, drawing her gaze towards the spectacle, but then her face was being grabbed by a set of long elegant fingers pulling her in the direction of her infernal guest. Tav could still see the sparkle of the fireworks in Raphael’s eyes. In their dark brown depths all of the exploding colours appeared a flaming red and she found herself lost in their hellfire gavotte.

Raphael’s lips came crashing down on hers. All too willingly she let herself be engulfed by his embrace, kissing him back with fervor and her fingers roaming through his hair, eyes closed, oblivious to the sight of the lit-up night sky and never even missing it.

Once they pulled apart Raphael’s eyes locked with hers again, mirth clearly visible on his handsome features, his hand still resting on her neck, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. ‘Now I can finally start conquering the Nine.’

He pulled her back inside. Her bedroom. And onto the bed they both landed, Tav’s legs straddling the devil left and right. Their kissing turned more passionate, wilder, filled with hunger. Tav’s heart raced at the sound of Raphael’s moaning and her fingers quickly fiddled with the buttons of his doublet.

As they stripped each other’s clothes off Tav finally found her words once more: ‘I sure am glad you decided to come.’

The devil looked up at her, hair out of place and his chest heaving but the look on his face as smug as ever. ‘Oh, there will be a lot more coming tonight, my dear. Let me assure you of that.’ And his hands grabbed her rear, pressing it to his hips, the tent in his pants rubbing against her nether region. She was already mewling atop of him and quickly went to free Raphael of the rest of his clothing.

Finally their naked bodies tangled around each other and Tav stilled for a moment to take in the sight of him, the devil’s eyes looking up at her expectantly. How could she ever think to turn him away from her home? He truly was her saviour, come again to rescue her from the dull life that had started to creep into her walls, her bones, her mind. She started showering his neck in kisses, her hand roaming over his chest, fingers fondling the fluff of hair, ministrations all spent in the hope of declaring her worship to him. Eternally.

‘Ride me,’ he whispered in her ear. All too compliantly she started guiding his length towards her entrance, already leaking with want, with need. At this moment Tav was willing enough to do anything he asked of her, and still found power in the realisation that now she had become the leader to their horizontal dance.

As his hardened cock slipped inside her she was aware of the ongoing crackle of the fireworks still rocketing into the skies but it was nothing compared to the sound of rapture coming from the man beneath her.

Raphael bucked up his hips, pleading with his body for her to start moving. Following his example earlier, Tav started with a slow rhythm, sinking down on him until her hips were flush against his, his cock buried deep inside her. He groaned at the sensation of her walls engulfing him so sweetly and her name fell from his lips like a prayer as his eyes fluttered shut.

Their mutual rutting was accompanied by the explosions outside but the pair remained oblivious to the celebration, both lost in their own merriment, chasing their pleasure and getting drunk on the sounds of their fucking: The snapping of hips and the delicious squirting coming from Tav’s cunt as it slipped over Raphael’s cock again and again.

She could feel him hitting the right spot over and over and finally Tav moaned his name in ecstasy. Blind from the rush of her orgasm she barely realised that Raphael began to turn her over, climbing on top of her so she now lay beneath him. The devil wasted no time in chasing his own release and started pounding the heroine into the sheets of her bed, its frame creaking dangerously. It did not matter if they were to break it. He would have her again in his own chambers, in every room of his House of Hope and all the beds they would conquer on their way through the Hells. Together they would find their purpose.

These thoughts and the clenching of Tav’s cunt around his length finally sent Raphael over the edge in turn but he found himself unable to stop in his movements, continuing to pump his hips, filling his little conquest with cum, letting her milk her new master for all he had to give her.

Outside the fireworks died down, making way for the jubilation of the crowd, each and every citizen of Baldur’s Gate unaware that they were cheering on the coupling of a newfound hellish alliance.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #my writing #my stuff #can you tell i started writing this around new year's eve?#along the way i got too depressed to finish it sooner #the dawn of a new beginning always makes me sentimental #so apologies if this is a bit angsty and kinda meh #cambion-companion #there’s a part in here inspired by your dirty mind #i’m sure you’ll catch it ;)

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khadame · 10 months

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#nonsense #and self-indulgent #what can i say #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #the dark urge #dark urge #a breather before more depression comics #bg3 art #oc: avani

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sleeeepy-demon · 6 days

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part 7 of bg3 memes i drew on paint except its all my Tav. Sorry.

part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

(if you wanna know more about them ⬇)

dhfliskdj f I am insane. about him. His name is Melodic Black Metal, they/he pronouns and they are obviously a bard. Lawful good. Romanced astarion cuz my friend @snaso102 said it would be the hardest to do while playing a good character and now i am insane about them together too. The hooded figure is Melo's sister, she can see a bit of the future.

PLEASE lets talk about them lets make our Tavs meet and have a party or whatever. I WILL talk about them even if you dont so, yea, ok, yea, ok, ok, yea, ok,

#this little dude has so much lore for no reason and also been my sole grip on reality during a 6 month long depressive episode so. yea.#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 Tav #bard tav #bg3 bard tav #bg3 text posts #bg3 meme #astarion x tav #bg3 Melodic Black Metal #Melo posting #bg3 spoilers #bibegnini #tavstarion #dnd oc #bg3 oc

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alpaca-clouds · 7 months

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Astarion, Trauma, Depression & Healing

I just cannot stop thinking about this topic, so I am going to talk about it. Mind you, technically I could extend this topic to some of the other characters as well - maybe I will - but for now let me talk about our favorite vampire spawn.

The game does make an effort to give every character at least a somewhat happy or at least bittersweet ending. (With the exception of Karlach, really. Yeah, I am still bitter about it.) But of course the general way it goes about the character plotlines is that they basically remove one issue and then end.

And for me there is the question: What would realistically happen after the ending?

So, let me talk a bit about psychology.

This is for the vampire spawn ending.

Spoilers for all acts.

CW: Abuse, trauma, depression

Astarion is traumatized.

"No shit!" I hear you say.

But yes, he is traumatized. To be exact he has CPTSD. Complex trauma. The difference between this and normal trauma is, that it develops over a long time. Specifically when it is not one or even just a few traumatizing experiences, but it is a lasting traumatizing situation. And in the case of our dear vampire spawn it is a traumatizing situation that lasted for almost two centuries!

Being unable to escape a traumatizing situation means that people in those situations build coping mechanisms as a method of survival. And I would argue that Astarion's entire asshole snarky personality mostly is a coping mechanism.

There are a several aspects of the situation with Cazador, that were traumatizing.

Several people have already talked about how basically Cazador has subjected his spawn to basically every single kind of abuse. We know there was physical abuse (for fuck's sake, they were tortured on a regular basis), there was sexual abuse (they were forced into prostitution and there is some dialogue that say that Cazador also raped them), there was emotional and psychological abuse (just look how Cazador talks to Astarion - and how he played the spawn against each other), and there was also a general sense of neglect.

But there is also the fact that Cazador forced them to do bad things. Be it to catch those victims (who the spawn thought would die) and there is also a bit of evidence that he probably forced them to otherwise kill - maybe people who were in the way of his politics. After all he also was quite active within the politics of the city. We also know from some dialogue that Cazador used his absolute control over the spawn at times to force them to torture themselves or each other.

One big aspect of people in abusive relationships (be it romantic relationships - or familiar relationships) is that the abuser will try to take away any possible support. I do assume that him playing the spawn against each other and making them torture each other is partly meant to destroy trust between them.

And of course, they just could not get help from the outside. Partly because of his rules and command. And partly, too, because I assume any attempt to get help would end the potential helper's life.

We also know from Astarion's dialogue, as well as the narrator text in the Astarion origin that Astarion gave in fairly quickly and tried to just do what Cazador wanted him to do. But we also know that it basically made no difference because Cazador would find some faults he could punish Astarion for.

So, all in all Astarion spend about 200 years in constant survival mode.

Here is the thing: For someone who has spend two centuries in those condition he appears surprisingly... functioning. Sure, he is a snarky bastard. And yeah, he also cannot fathom you helping him without him paying you in sex. But he... well, he is not a pile of misery sitting in a corner.

There might well be a reason for this, though: He is still in survival mode (because of the entire tadpole and world ending thing), and he also has a concrete goal (kill Cazador). The big question is how he is gonna relate and work through the trauma after the end of the game, when both the life-or-death situation ended and Cazador is dead.

Because, look. Our boy is going to need to work through all of that trauma. There is no way around it. He needs to work through it and it is gonna be painful.

A lot of people with CPTSD do develop a depression - and I doubt that this precious vampire spawn is going to be any different. Heck, I am going to go so far and say that we do see him being depressed quite a bit even in the game, even as he tries to hide it.

We know from the game he has nightmares of Cazador. Nightmares that kinda mix memories with fears. And those are probably just going to be a fact of his life for a few years. So, sleep is going to be hard at times - and so is going to be other stuff.

There will be stuff that triggers him. In my stuff I write him as easily being triggered by sexual stuff - because there is so much trauma related to it - as well as getting triggered when he is reminded of his scars. But he is also quite good at triggering himself by falling down memory holes.

Given that when you play the Astarion origin we have at least two scenes (probably more, but so far I encountered it two times) where he halucinates Cazador being there and watching him, I would assume that this is also going to stay within his life. Him seeing or hearing Cazador, because it is just so engrained in his memory through trauma.

One big thing I see him struggling with most is, that everything he is right now is what Cazador made him. For better or worse, all his learned behaviors are because of Cazador. And Cazador of course wanted to shape him. If Astarion ends up with Tav (or one of the origin characters), I can also very much see that this is gonna be a big issue for him. Because Astarion needs to change to heal. He cannot let himself be defined by Cazador. But if Tav tries to help this along, Astarion might just think that Tav is just another person who tries to mold him into someone else. (And yes, this is a point of conflict that I bring into Voice of the Voiceless.)

Another issue I could see arise is avoidance behavior. Basically... Here is the thing, trauma will never quite go away - but it can get better, if you work through it. But working through trauma is very, very painful, which is why a lot of traumatized folks instead try to avoid this. Becaue while it leads to betterment on the long run it is more painful for the moment than just trying to forget about it and distract yourself.

And given just the amount of trauma, I can see that easily happening here.

There is another big thing, too, though. Some people have already pointed it out before, but... If romanced it is fairly clear that Astarion is very, very emotionally dependent on Tav. Which absolutely makes a lot of sense, given that from his perspective Tav is (probably) the first ever person in a long, long time, who is actually nice to him and helps him. But you have to see that this, in the end, also is a type of avoidance behavior. Tav is safe, so he just sticks to Tav like a shadow, basically.

It seems to me from the game that Astarion is one of the characters in camp, who very much stick to themselves. Like, you can gleam from dialgoues (even though I still gotta say, I wanted more scenes of the characters doing stuff together at camp) that Wyll and Karlach do hang out at camp. And that Halsin and Gale over time do also kinda take care of everyone. But Astarion mostly tries to stick to himself, not really making connections to anyone.

And I think that also is in a way part of avoidance behavior. Friends means opening himself up, which means having a weakness, which then brings fear of it being exploited. So... yeah, sticking to Tav and Tav alone is so much safer.

But, here, too I think it is something that he, if he wants to heal, needs to learn to overcome. To put it differently: This man needs some friends. He needs people in his life besides Tav. But to get him there might be hard.

I mean, let's be frank. This man needs therapy. He needs therapy so badly. But... I somehow doubt that there are therapists in Faerûn.

So, yeah... He needs to figure it somewhat out on his own, which is only gonna make this harder.

tl;dr

This man is a mess. And even if everything goes well, he is gonna be a mess for at least a few years. Because you just do not get over 200 years of trauma upon trauma, without being a mess somewhere in between.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion needs a hug #trauma #ptsd #cptsd #cw abuse #cw depression #media analysis

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