#i just saw an astarion headcanon but the way it was worded it was like this was canon lore

[onlyfangz]

did we all collectively forget that vampires not being able to see their reflection because old mirrors were backed with silver is a tumblr creation that has no basis in any classical texts or?

because the reason vampires cant see their reflections (in classic texts) is because mirrors were considered reflections of the soul, and vampires are soulless, which means regardless of what the reflective surface is, they cannot cast an image.

i'm not a snob, i love modern vampires as much as classic vampires, but please remember that classic vampires are soulless monsters, not misunderstood sadboys of the 00s>.

[madwomansapologist]

Hi, are you still looking for Baldur's Gate 3 requests? Could you please write something about the main BG3 Companions (+ our boi Halsin) with a Tav/reader who's really short and adorable and just an absolute sweetheart but is horrifyingly powerful in their lore? Like NPCs who know about them back away in fear kinda thing. Maybe Tav can even transform into some sort of battle form where they're like 9 feet tall (as opposed to their usual height of like 4' 10") and can absolutely kick ass on the battlefield?

Thanks so much, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care!

bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav

Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: Who could imagine such a sweet thing as you had the reputation of a hero?

warnings: companions (lae'zel, shadowheart, astarion, gale dekarios, wyll ravengard, karlach, halsin, jaheira) x tav. fluff.

note: thank you for your request! oh gods how i missed writing headcanons. i hope you like this, have a wonderful day!

Lae'zel

Lae'zel knew your shared condition had a cure, and was willing to put herself in danger by taking the entire party with her to the nearest crèche. That being said, how couldn't she judge you?

You were too easy on everyone. Making promises you clearly shouldn't, taking them seriously despite her best efforts to put some sense in your head. The party was supposed to only stop walking when surrounded by githyankis, but no burdened tiefling or hurt animal escaped your careful gaze.

That you knew how to fight surprised her, but to see fear and admiration in the eyes of civillians... that made Lae'zel pay more attention to you. You had a reputation. Not as a writer, bard or patron. You're know for striking down your enemies.

Fighting at the goblin's camp, there were so many oponents even Lae'zel didn't knew if it would be her last fight. You saw it too, so you made sure to use everything you had to win. Even if you would rather not turn into an eldritch creature.

She got enchanted by your battle form. Steel and iron where nothing against the pure strenght of your skin. Whatever crossed your path that day suffered at your hands.

That was the first time Lae'zel got happy for being wrong about someone.

"Perhaps I've judged you too hard. You are fierce, foracious, as sharp as my sword and as brave as a red dragon. Keep on surprising me and a istik you'll be no more."

Shadowheart

Shadowheart couldn't care less about the tieflings and their problems, but it was endearing to watch you wandering throught the Coast in an attempt to ensure their safety. It was a sight she couldn't expect to observe in this journey, not when considering the worm twitching behind her eye and the artifact messing with their dreams.

Still, you could shut down her biggest fears with ease. While she tried to remain quiet, you were full of kind words to share with whoever was near. You care for all beings, great and small, and Shadowheart can respect that. A person without a truth to follow is empty, but one with a mission turns into so much more than just a walking corpse.

She focused on protecting you during fights. Always giving you some sort of magic shield, casting sanctuary, begging you to drink potions and elixirs that would keep you safe.

Goblins attacked, and for a second everyone was too surprised to react properly. Except by you. You were quick to defend your party, to fight for them, and won a fight no one was preparad to.

Shadowheart decided not to underestimate you again. Kind words, gentle actions, caring gaze: she was so focused on her own view about you that forgot to pay attention to the way everyone else saw you.

You're powerful. The kinda of powerful that their party had to be grateful that you were fighting besides them.

When you revealed your beast form to her, Shadowheart already knew you were a sight to behold.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you? Good. I like how you keep me on my toes, love."

Astarion

In theory, he should've been delighted with your personality. You were the perfect prey. A leader so sweet, he could change your mind at his will and you wouldn't even noticed. Others respect you. Astarion would be safe and sound.

But Astarion isn't capable of forgetting how easily you fought back when he tried to fool you. How he didn't even saw you moving, and was alone on the floor before he could understand what had hit him.

Instead of a person, you were a walking question mark. How can you be so sickenly adorable, and still so ready to strike down your enemies? Were did the sweet half of you finished and the other one started?

People know you. He saw respect in druid's eyes, fear when goblins heard your name. Halsin knew about you. And so did Minthara.

Few are able to live up to their reputation, but you're one of those. So strong, so brave, but your kindness wasn't ignored by him. It was as if in your head the whole world deserved your kindness, until it did no more. Only then you react.

Astarion don't know what to think about it.

When you attacked as a beast, tearing spiders apart as if they were a piece of meat in your plate, Astarion laughed until his belly ache.

How could be so right and so wrong about someone?

"Don't mind me, darling. I'm just rejoicing at the sight of your bloody hands. Come here. Let me taste your heroic mess."

Gale Dekarios

Gale learned two things about you when you pulled him out of stone: you were kind, and so damn strong.

You were adorable. A perfect equation between what people must do in order to survive and what they must do in order to live well. He can't see you not being surrounded by friends and admirers, all enchanted by your sweet words and rightful attacks.

He feared the party's reaction to the Orb, but a part of him knew you would let him stay. He never imagined you would give him magic artifacts without a second question, or that you would hug him after he told you his whole story.

You didn't let him go. Neither did Gale.

To say he was willing to agree with whatever you did was to say his heart beats. It was only natural. Maybe you both differ on the path you want to take, but the destination is usually the same.

When he saw you feral, body changing to give space to something else, Gale wondered if he was one of those enchanted people surrounding you. If he wasn't fighting for his life, Gale would gadly gaze upon you for the rest of the day.

"Disgusted? I was unable to look away from you! You are the one I love, no claws or tentacles will ever change that. Must I add, my love, your light remains strong in whatever form you decide to use."

Wyll Ravengard

To say the least, he's a fan. Oh, how lovely are the tales of your adventures through Faêrun. He remember arguing with bards about the accuracy of their versions and the reason behind their choice of words. You were what a hero must aim to.

How long were the nights he spend wandering after he was casted out of Baldur's Gate. Lonely nights, but never silent. Wyll's mind fought against itself. He lost everything to help and protect others. Sometimes he worried if he had lost himself too.

Your tales weren't his salvation. None of them shut down those voices that insisted on telling him about the mistakes he made, neither did them shut Mizora. But they inspired him. If you did all those things, remained human even as a beast, he could survive a talkative cambion. Wyll Ravengard can defeat her by staying loyal to himself.

Wyll didn't had to hear your name to know you were fighting next to him, defending the grove against goblins and worgs. He saw enough drawings of you to recognize you from miles afar. When you asked him to be a member of your party, Wyll felt as if a million fireworks exploded inside his chest at the same time.

He did felt anger and pain because of the tadpole, but never fear. Fighting beside you, Wyll knew he didn't had to fear for his future. And after seeing how willing you were to argue with multiple cambions, he started to have hope.

"I used to read about legends, myths of bravery and rightousness. Some see it as just tales for the naive. Thank you, my heart. For proving them wrong time after time."

Karlach

She's the only one with an excuse for not knowing who you are. When strangers call you by your entire name, when companions use your epithet: Karlach just never thought about it. She ignored it, paying no mind to others.

But Karlach did knew you were a absolute sweetheart. What you didn't had of height you compensate with a gigantic personality. For her, the way you behaved was simply alluring.

While many prefer to think the world is a bad place and no one living there can chose to be or do better, you are just another reason for her to know that it's bullshit. Because Karlach is good, despise it all. And Wyll. And you.

And Minsc!!!

You had a fire on you whenever you had to fight. She didn't need to know your story to see how great you can be. Some people just have that. She don't know if that fire is born or forged, but some people just have it.

To see you as a beast made her the most happy woman in Faêrun. She got speechless, all she could do was laugh and run around to have a better view of you ending the Steel Watch.

"You got 'em, soldier! Go on, bite his arm off! You see that monster over there? The one with glowing eyes. That's the love of my fucking life."

Halsin

He saw you before. Druids and harpist fought against sharrans, and you were one of the heroes who joined their cause. At that time Halsin didn't talked to you, but he knew you fought until the very end and stayed to help with the infirm.

When you rescued him, Halsin knew you remembered him too. There was some understanding between you both, a companionship that only those who foght together can share.

He knew you were a hero, one of those who fight wars that don't affect them because someone needs too, but your personality was a good surprise. Halsin haven't imagined you so easy going. Always offering smiles, light jokes, being clumsy without a care when danger was far away.

After the battle against sharrans, he thought those who refered to you as a monster were trying to make others understand how eficient you were. It surprised him to see they were just being honest.

Nothing would stop Halsin from turning into a bear and joining you.

"In this damned city, you are a beacon of hope. The Oak Father graced us with your light. From your fiece strikes to your honey soaked words... I am lucky to live at the same time as you, my love."

Jaheira

As a fellow adventurer, it surprised Jaheira that you weren't already tired. You both lived for so long, did so much, it would be only natural for you to give a pause on your endless smiles and envied patience. She was wrong, but that wasn't a bad thing.

Jaheira knew how this life can steal things from you. Peace feels like a threat, to stop make you feel like a prey, to laugh makes you wonder if it will be the last time. Is impossible to be a hero without losing. She's glad you didn't lose yourself in your path.

There was an unspoken pact between you both. The stories, the songs, the faux memories. So many think to know everything about you two. Sometimes Jaheira will read you a book you're in when she knows it's a shameless lie, and you sing her songs about adventures she did not lived.

Your laugh could make her feel younger. Alive. You both were so differents, but knew each other in a way few could.

Whenever you chose to strike as a monster, she would join you as a myrmidon and had her fun. You both deserve it.

"I did well not underestimating you, cub. It is impossible not to laugh at those who can't see how your bright smile hides sharp fangs. As pretty as a diamond, and as fierce too."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[justporo]

Hi JustPoro! I wanted to share an observation with you. Maybe you can turn this into some headcanon, fanfic or just share your thoughts on it? I just started my second BG run, romancing Astarion again. I didn't really see/notice it months ago on my first run, but now it's so obvious that when Astarion is sincere he always touches his own hands and fingers, like a tell. One moment he leans forward, looks you in the eye, spreads his arms, demanding all your attention. But the next moment he looks to the side, his words become smaller, he puts his hands in front his body and starts playing with his fingers, basically shrinking back into himself, even if he still smiles. It happens a few times and it's such a heartbreaking detail. How do you think the Tav would react when they first catch on to this?

Hi Anon, thank you so much for hopping in my inbox. And oh, this is a very good observation. So I wanted to write a little drabble about it.

If you see any typos: no you don't (it's not proofread, psst)

As a former thief you knew a tell when you saw one.

Because back in your thieving days it was part of your set of skills needed to survive. You had to know when someone was trying to rip you off. 

Astarion had a tell. Quite an obvious one too.

You hadn’t fully figured out yet what it was he was lying to you about or trying to hide from you. But it was clear that something was up, something going on behind these unusual crimson eyes, whenever he started to fidget with his hands.

Admittedly, you probably had figured it out as quickly as you did because you had stared at his hands quite often. They were beautiful hands: quite big, long, elegant and immaculately cared for fingers. You had to admit you had a thing for hands; but Astarion’s especially.

You knew exactly what those hands could do: from lockpicking even the meanest locks and making it look like magic in its own respect to dramatically being flailed around to underline the point the vampire was making; to oh so easily finding this delicate spot between your legs, caressing it, toying with it, making you lose your mind - with nothing but a touch of those fingers.

But the physical intimacy you had shared didn’t mean you were on the same terms in other aspects of your relationship.

And so the first time you noticed Astarion’s small nervous habit you didn’t let it show that you had noticed. It had been a delicate subject obviously. One of those rare moments where the vampire let precious details of his past slip.

From just the few things he had shared with you, you could imagine the horrors he must have lived through.

And from the way his body gave him away, you were sure of the pain it still caused him.

It was when his shoulders fell, his whole body basically folding in on himself from his usual cocksure flamboyant posture and attitude. His ruby eyes seemed leagues and eons away, still lingering agony swimming in them.

Those were the moments where unconsciously he started to nervously play around with his hands, obviously not even noticing. Tugging on the fingers of the other hand, pressing the thumb into the palm of the other - as if trying to give himself at least a bit of reassurance or to pull himself back by the pressure applied. And then the moment quickly passed again. Hands falling to his side again.

And so you took note but remained silent.

Until this fateful night back at Moonrise towers when Astarion had made a confession to you, you hadn’t ever expected.

Immediately it had been obvious how upsetting and strenuous it must have been for him to bring himself to even bring it up with you. So much so that you were sure he must be close to ripping his own fingers off judging by the way he worked while he opened up about his feelings for you.

So if this wasn’t the moment which would it ever be? As Astarion kept speaking you stepped closer, his eyes immediately growing big and round. So obviously afraid. Not of but of what he feared was about to happen. His words died on his lips as the vampire could only stand and watch, positively becoming a statue. His hands froze in position in front of his chest.

That’s where you gently grabbed them from with your own. He let you. Too shocked to react in any other kind of way.

“Did you notice,” you began as you started to gently massage them “that you tug on your hands when you’re upset or nervous or…” You blushed a little as you didn’t manage to finish your question, letting your gaze drop from his to where his hands were mingled with yours.

“I do?” Astarion replied bewildered, fully thrown off his groove and what he had planned to say.

You nodded, still not able to look up at him again, but kept softly soothing his fingers.

Silence fell between you as you kept going, feeling how your warmth spread to him.

After a long while you found the courage to look Astarion in the eyes again. He seemed transformed. A gentle smile was tugging on his lips, eyes full of warmth and kindness. None of that fearful behaviour that made him sink into himself but also none of the cocky performance he so often put on.

Instead, Astarion seemed genuine. Probably more so than you had seen him be this far.

And when he finally continued his speech, you felt more of that. All while you kept holding onto his hands. And - as you felt by the end of it - as he was holding onto yours.

Later, you of course still noticed those moments when Astarion nervously toyed around with his hands. But now you had no good reason to not go and do something about it.

So, whenever you noticed it happening you softly grabbed his hands, untangled his fingers and wrapped them with yours. Or pressed your palm against his. Or kissed his fingers one by one. Until the moment had passed.

And later still, when Astarion had started to learn to rely on you, you found he sometimes came to you, grabbing your hands for a bit of support. You squeezed his in reassurement and let your thumb wander over the back of his hand in these moments - until he squeezed back. A silent thank you, you’ve come to know.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hi, it's me again, while i'm still waiting for the masked ball, i was wondering how astarion would react if tav was blind after the whole story with the brain she could only see because of the tadpole, or alternatively deaf that would be really interesting, i can imagine him getting overprotective like "you took care of me, now i'll take care of you"

Hi! One more inclusive HCs, I can't even say how much I love writing them! I've already done Astarion x Human!Tav Who Can See In The Dark about blind Tav so this one will be about deaf Tav.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Deaf!Tav

You've always been deaf, and the tadpole didn't improve that.

The disability has natural causes, and the parasite just saw it as part of you.

You mostly speak using Thieves Cant.

You can also lip read.

Unfortunately, since your speech is inaudible, you have a hard time being a leader, so you work in pairs with Astarion.

You talk to each other with signs and gestures, you plan and think, and he acts and leads.

At first, Astarion wants to seduce and manipulate you - replacing his smooth words you can't hear with gentle touches.

Eventually, he falls in love. You are so kind, so gentle, so brave.

Sometimes you wonder what his voice sounds like. People always say he sounds very nice.

He confesses his true intentions and fears that you will break up with him.

You are hurt and offended - people often take advantage of you, thinking you are weak and gullible.

You didn't expect this from Astarion.

But you are very good at reading emotions, seeing the smallest details in the movement of his lips.

You know he's honest. You know he's sorry.

You develop your own way of communicating with each other.

You often draw invisible symbols on each other's hands.

You also love to touch his ears, which is the most intimate thing for elves.

You caress his scars on his back, the bite marks, instead of the words you can't say.

Astarion's healing process is so much faster that you expected.

The thing is, even if your blood and affection can protect him from nightmares, it's you who needs to be taken care of.

You're independent, of course, but it's still hard for a deaf person to navigate in life.

Astarion is your guide, your only protector, you hear the world through his lips and touch.

Sometimes, when you're in a bad mood, you tell him that he could have found someone better than you.

He pulls you closer and prints the words on the palm of his hand:

"No, I couldn't."

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Since you named it in the Halsin x Ace!tav headcanons, now please do also gale because I'm curious!

- a very ace ⚙️

Alright, by popular(ish) demand:

How Ace!Tav Reacts When They Realize Gale is Into Them

An expansion on this headcanon: Ace!Tav's Reaction to Halsin Propositioning Them

Based on: Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

Okay, now I feel bad because I feel like I've thrown my man Gale under the bus for this, but it really isn't his fault, just a lot of miscommunication

This one is a slower build since Gale is just in the party longer and it's just how he roles

Ace!Tav and Gale form a connection fairly early on

Tav knows they're not the most book smart and so does regularly ask Gale for his input (or to read them something without asking any questions)

Gale is happy to be useful, and just so thrilled to have somebody beside his cat who will listen

This is probably where the miscommunication begins

Gale takes their active listening, and ability to recount the information he taught them as a sign of deeper interest while Tav actively listens because that's just what they do

They're a bard who never learned how to read, listening is the only way they learn anything, plus they have a memory like steel trap

This all comes to a head at the tiefling party

Astarion approaches Tav about having a "night of passion" which Tav turns down because it's obviously not their thing, and they don't really want to have that conversation with Astarion; why spoil a good thing (read I Want I All for more on that subject)

And then Gale says he wants to show them how to experience the weave later that evening and so, they decide to go with him

Tav knows they're in touch with the weave through their music, but never fully understood why or how, only that it works, so to have Gale show them is an experience they can't pass up

Besides, they know how passionate he is about it, who would they be to deny him

So, Gale shows them the weave and when he asks them to picture the concept of harmony, what they imagine is music, the way it fills their body and brings them peace; melody strumming not just through their ears but their whole body into their soul

It's an intimate sensation, one they haven't been able to express with words and for a moment Gale feels it

He tells them he feels like he owes them an apology for being at bit...well, dismissive of their form of magic, it's truly beautiful

And then Tav sees it, a flash of his own mind, and the anticipation of a kiss

That snaps them right out of it, letting the weave disappear around them

Gale, realizing what they saw, is quick to apologize but the moment is ruined and the pair of them quickly make their way back to their own tents to wallow and over think

Tav feels unbelievably guilty, not helped by Astarion's comments the next morning

Astarion isn't jealous, why would he be? But he can't help but ask what Tav and the wizard got up to, using every teasing innuendo he can think of

Tav finally snaps and tells him nothing happened and that they need to talk to Gale

Gale has been properly wallowing and keeping unnaturally silent until Tav pulls him aside to talk

Gale once again apologizes, but he really did think there was a connection between the two of them

He knows he's not much of a wizard these days and he's also very well aware that there is something going on between them and Astarion, but he did hope...well, no point in that is there

Tav feels even more guilty, but is quick to assure him he did nothing wrong, they just don't see him that way

In truth, what they really want, in the deepest part of their hearts, is to be his friend; to be honest, they don't have that many

Gale tells them, "Somehow I doubt that. I can't imagine you being lonely"

Tav only gives him a sad smile, saying "what can I say, I contain multitudes"

Gale sees it then, that they are, in fact, lonely and for a moment sees it in himself; that maybe his feelings he started to develop really do come from that same place of loneliness

Tav watches him carefully asking, "have I hurt you terribly?"

Gale shakes his head, "just a bit bruised, nothing that won't heal. Admittedly, I think it's more my ego than my heart"

He assures them that he does value their friendship, he just might need a minute to recover

He also tells them that whoever they do give their heart to better know how valuable it truly is

It does take Gale a little time to come back to himself, but eventually he's able to become a true friend to Tav with none of the remaining awkwardness

He also makes a point to assure Astarion of the same thing after he senses the vampire glare one too many daggers into his back

As much fun as it is to tease Astarion, he doesn't want to have to sleep with one eye open, if he can help it

[merilaurecus]

Companions reactions to Modern!Tav from Earth coming back to Faerûn to visit

Gale (Blackstaff Academy Professor ending)

He was the one to help you get back (with a bit of help from Elminster I suppose)

More than happy to see you (and that his magic worked!)

Will do his best to stay quiet about your little comeback (Tara will do her best to keep him quiet too)

Will offer magic lessons since you're back in the world where The Weave™️ exists (this dude loves magic, won't let an opportunity like that slip, especially when he becomes ✨Professor Dekarios✨)

Will tell you everything that happened in your absence, much like the others

Genuinely happy to have you back, even if it's for a moment

Will cook something, you can prepare an extra pack for faerûnian food from him

Tara demands pets. Just not on the belly.

You're free to spend a while in the Academy, even join some lesson as a guest or a guest teacher

Astarion (vampire spawn in Baldur's Gate ending)

He finds you in the dead of the night, thinking you're one of the bad guys

When he pins you to the ground with a dagger it just feels like the old days

Immediately loosens his grip when he recognizes you

"What in the hells? What are you doi- How did you even do it?!"

Happy to see you as well and does not even need to hide it as he'd usually do

Together you hunt someone that night, for the sake of the old times

You both recall what you've been up to

If you let him drink your blood again he'll be elated

But careful as a babe. This time he'll be good to his words

Surely has some news from the spawn family (if he didn't join them in the Underdark). Reads you some letters from Gur and other spawn. Takes breaks while reading the one from Sebastian. You hug him understandingly

You end up watching the sunrise before the sun is too high and you leave to seek other companions

Wyll & Karlach (yeet into the Avernus ending)

You kind of didn't expect to see them

They went to Avernus after all

They're the ones to spot you

"SOLDIER?! IS THAT YOU?!" are the only words you hear before you're pulled into Mama K's tight hug, unable to let go

Anyway you're not willing to let go. I mean who would want to?

Wyll's surprised too, they're both excited and curious how did you do it.

They were just about to meet his father (obviously), last thing they expected was to see their friend from another world.

You just jump in and go with them, asking how things are going with Karlach's engine, both excited and worried

Finally hearing good news (about the forge) makes you talk about heart surgery again ( @tavshortfortavern thanks for the idea!; also special thanks for inspiring me to write my own headcanons, love Yours!)

You spend the rest of the day meeting with Ulder, training, talking and having a drink in the Blushing Mermaid in the evening with Astarion who 'accidentally' found you

You all almost get too drunk but you don't care, because it's a memorable night

You toast for Gale who pulled it off and thought about it in the first place

Lae'zel (Freeing Githyanki edition)

Also kinda unexpected and brief meeting

You can see she's pleased with meeting you again (even if she's reluctant to show it)

She tries to keep her cool, she's leading a rebellion and most likely has an important meeting here

'Never thought I'd see you. Did you get lost in the realms again?'

After finding out how did you do it she nods in acknowledgement. Probably doesn't want to compliment the wizard

You quickly recall your current state of life and say goodbye, but for longer than usual (a little bit of slavic way of saying goodbye for an hour)

You're sure you spied a smile on her face, but she'd rather die than admit it (if she's with her fellow githyanki warriors)

Shadowheart (both good endings)

Parents freed & alive

She visited Gate for some groceries and maybe running into friends

And exactly both thing happens

She's not sure if she saw who she saw, has to blink and make sure

'You... you're back? How'd you do that?'

'Then it's a fine wine bottle for Gale then. What you've been up to? I was sure I'll never see you again!'

Also turns into a hug mode, girl does not take prisoners

After hearing from you she tells you about her cozy life with her parents

It's pretty much calm, nothing changed much (which is good considering her mother's state)

Can't stop looking at you like you're something magical or just a dream

You grab the groceries and head back to her house where you surprise her parents too

Her mom does not recognise you, but you understand. Her father still shoots out best jokes in this part of galaxy

Coziest evening in a while

Parents freed & gone

Pretty much all of the above but she might have someone on her tail and gets scared you may get hurt (just like in Waterdeep, when you romance Gale she tells you she's been there with someone on her tail exactly)

Gets you under her protection and if you run into any of your companions you're under their protection as well

If not, you'll just happily walk around the city and have some dinner and recall your life after you left Faerûn

But you could easily tell she still misses her parents, which makes you turn into a hug mode too

You may even spend an evening drinking somewhere secluded (beach maybe?)

Jaheira, Minsc & Boo

'The cub has found its way back. Though 'how?' still remains a question'

You explain and she admires how far the wizard has come to get you back for a visit

Minsc does not understand it, but is glad to have otherwordly friend back

Same with Boo, he's vicious but not towards Tav who occasionally fed him with extra snacks

Yes, hugs are mandatory even if none of them will show it (little hug for Boo as well!)

Jaheira is still busy with Harpers network rebuilding, might have to order few of them around as you speak

Takes you to her home where the kids also get a fucking aneurysm because they were sure you coming back was not possible

When you tell her your last life events she looks proud

But, like, tough auntie proud

'Seems like that world of yours is in the good hands'

You try your best not to go with explaining how it isn't so easy back there

Generally a day with the Busy Mom™️, the Madman and his Rodent

Halsin

After you made your little tour at the Gate & Waterdeep it was time for the *trip*

You did your best not to show on the road, just for the sake of surprise

Though you were nervous about the animals you've met

Not because they could eat you, but you remember the wildshape

No bears though, you feel safe

When you reach Moonrise you use every little stealth skill Astarion has taught you

Though your knees protest against that

You spot him somewhere near The Waning Moon, fixing something

Your sneak behind him would make Astarion proud as fuck

Daddy Bear doesn't notice a thing (or so you hope)

With only few seconds to act you just tap his shoulder

He turns back expecting a kid perhaps, but instead his eyes widen upon seeing his old (young?) friend

The one he was sadly sure never to see again

He's not quite sure what to say for a few seconds so you just pull him into a hug

He hugs back with his and probably Silvanus' might

He's just so excited, but fortunately doesn't wildshape (iykyk)

He's also impressed in Gale's skill (even if it involves Elminster)

Eager to show you around, proud of his work, but don't you dare bring it up yourself! (unless you want him to turn into a mouse or just threaten you to do so, even as a joke)

You almost don't recognise the place without the curse

Thaniel & Oliver take you by surprise in turn, but it's also a lovely reunion. Without the curse they're flourishing and thriving, just like the nature around

Whole. Fucking. Ton. Of. Kids.

And stray people willing to start a new life here

But they're all happy and taken care of. It's loud, it's messy, it's chaotic, but it's lovely.

You can easily see Halsin put his heart into that and truly found his place in the world

'My friend. Would you like to stay?' his voice radiates with hope, and if you say yes, he's even more happy. If you can not, he understands

He's surprised you remember about the old druid. You ensure him you never forgot

You help around with the kids & the place, maybe even tell them a story or two to let Halsin rest (even if he's sleeping behind you in his bear form)

You may also get back with druidic magic here, even if you won't use it in your world, Halsin would gladly spend time teaching you and recalling your latest life events

You also visit Art's Grave if he passed away (which could occur)

NPCs REACTIONS WILL JOIN SOON

[grievedeeply]

Hiiii! Do you take bg3 reqs? Cause I saw some and the tag in your latest post but no mention on the blog info!

If not feel free to ignore!

Could you please do Halsin, Gale and Astarion angsty hcs of them arguing with their s/o (like maybe she feels belitttled or ignored and yk classical “say something they don’t mean etc arguement”)? (With or without the aftermath and eventual yk comfort. However you’d like! Sorry if this is precise!

Thanks in any case! Have a lovely day!

i just added bg3 into my blog info bc of this LOL my bad. but yes i do take requests and i'm very happy to do this one for you! decided to expand on your original idea and make it arguing as a whole but your request is still included in the headcanons! thanks for sending it in and enjoy!

gn!reader/tav | tws: angst....

arguing headcanons with halsin, gale and astarion

halsin

halsin is not the arguing type of man. he hates arguing and he never ever wants to do it

still, he knows arguing happens. relationships always include some type of fight even if he never wants to deal with it

arguments with him almost always happen because of a misunderstanding on someones part. it's never because he wants to try to hurt you or vice versa, but because someone heard something the wrong way and it spiraled

but of course you don't realize that immediately and start arguing over whatever it was that was said

halsin is the type of person to distance himself for a little while to collect his thoughts

he never wants to say something he doesn't mean in an argument, but it has happened before.. and it took at least a week for the two of you to make up because you were obviously hurt by it

but he doesn't want it to happen again, so he'll take a little time for himself and come back to you with a cooler head

he doesn't think of himself as someone who gets mad easily, and he really isn't, but he'd rather be safe than sorry

normal arguments don't last for very long as you find you can't really stay mad at each other.. but he is usually the one to apologize first even if you started it

he hates it when you're mad at him. it's literally the worst feeling in the world to him and it's like a huge pit in his stomach

he will feel so bad if you ever tell him you feel ignored in an argument

he apologizes a lot and has to reassure you that you're the only person in his life that he loves in this way

he promises to be better at showing it. he takes an entirely different angle on everything he does from then on

always wants to make you feel loved and appreciated <3

gale

similarly to halsin, i think gale is someone to avoid arguments at all costs

he'll agree with a lot of things you say just to avoid arguments over stupid things that don't matter. you like this color for new curtains but he doesn't? he won't say a word. doesn't want to fight over something so small

even if you won't argue about it... he hasn't exactly had the best relationship track record, so he prefers to keep quiet on things like that anyways

when you do fight with him, it's usually because he said something he didn't mean and he immediately regrets it

but unlike halsin, he probably wouldn't walk away and take a few hours for himself and will instead apologize profusely without anything else

he hates fighting. he hates it and he wants it over with

he hates how it makes him feel when he knows you're upset with him and he wants that feeling to go away as soon as possible, so expect him to say he's sorry a million times

he hardly ever yells but he will when he gets mad enough. he immediately regrets it though

again... apologizes over and over

his apologies are all very genuine but he won't blame you if you don't forgive him right away

but you will have to tell him to leave you alone for a while

making up is always nice though. he'll make you dinner for a week afterwards (as if he doesn't do it anyways)

if you ever bring up feeling ignored or belittled in an argument he will go completely silent and apologize after you're done talking

he explains it was never his intent, but he realizes that he could've done better for you, and his apologies are all he can offer until he can prove his worth to you

overall very sweet and understanding about the entire thing too

astarion

i can see astarion hating arguing.. but that doesn't stop him from doing it, either

you hardly ever fight over anything serious but unlike gale he will complain if you pick something out that he doesn't like. he wants something he likes too. if he has to look at it, he wants it to suit his tastes

he's probably a sulker and doesn't apologize first unless he actually really feels bad about something

he likes seeing you say you're sorry. it makes him feel good to know you care enough about him to apologize for fighting over something that never really meant that much to anyone else

he wants some control over things. that's really all he wants

sometimes he will say things he doesn't mean, but he won't apologize immediately

the fight will get worse before it gets better

he isn't really the type of person to yell, but he does sometimes and he hates doing it but sometimes it feels like no one hears him unless he does

if you start a fight because you feel ignored or not good enough or something like that, it's a whole different story

he won't even really argue. he'll sit there and listen to everything you have to say even if you scream at him

definitely will hug you and reassure you that he loves you. he says he's sorry for ever making you feel that way, too

he hates fighting. but he will argue if he feels it's necessary... or when he's overwhelmed

sometimes things come out that he doesn't mean

[angelatmidnight1]

I just started Baldur's Gate 3 and would love some ler! tword hesdcanons for Astarion if you're feeling inspired? I saw some of his lines on YouTube Shorts and he's literally the reason I'm now playing, Lord help me. 😭🤣 I'm super early game(like, just met him, Shadowheart and Gale) but I do know what species he is, and know a certain something he tries at camp at some point- 👀

I will definitely write a tword fic for him at some point because the need for him to wreck me is strong, but some headcanons to encourage me to keep going to see the story, as I adjust to the gameplay and how it works would be so appreciated! ❤️ Again, only if you feel inspired for it though, no pressure and I hope you're staying hydrated lovely! 😊

A/N: Sure! Astarion's the reason I bought the game too. I saw a few clips of him on TikTok and added the game to cart 😅 I have a reader/Astarion fic somewhere in my drafts, but please tag me whenever you create yours. I'd love to see :D

Anyways, here's ler!Astarion. I hope I captured his personality okay. I'll add a tiny warning that this may come off a tad spicy, cause it's Astarion haha, but it isn't NSFW.

Ler!Astarion Tickle Headcanons

“Darling, you’re ticklish? Aha, how adorable.”

Astarion’s had a couple centuries to practice the art of gentle, and sometimes ticklish, touches. Of course he takes up the opportunity to work his craft. 

He’ll say the sweetest things to beckon his lee closer, with fleeting touches along sides and hips. “Come here, my dear. I promise I’ll be as gentle as a babe. Just a bit closer, hm?”

More words, sweet as honey, until he has his lee pinned under him. No matter the position, he wants physical contact the whole time. “Mm, I always did enjoy how you looked beneath me.”

He loves it when his lees become shy and flustered. It encourages his flirtatious antics even more. But, if they don’t? That’s okay. He loves a good challenge. 

Astarion’s touch is deliberate, but light and teasy. He takes his time to find the spots that make his lee squeal, and claws over it with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “My, you are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?”

Eye contact is huge with Astarion; he drinks in his lees’ every reaction to his tickles. Every little giggle, gasp, squeak. His lee has never looked more beautiful, and he’s sure to tell them just that.

Speaking of drinking, it’s too tempting not to think about all of the blood pumping through his lee’s veins while he tickles them. He won’t drink without permission, but that doesn’t mean he can’t indulge in other ways.

“I could eat you right up, darling. And you know what? I think I will..” 

Astarion knows how to use his fangs with just enough pressure to tickle, and if he’s especially close with his lee, nowhere is safe from his nibbles. 

His favorite place to nibble are necks, but he’s also fond of ribs, hips, and thighs. He’ll love if his lee is especially sensitive to his light biting. “Gods, you are delectable. And those precious little giggles of yours just make you all the more sweeter.~” 

He could tease and tickle his lee all night, but if they truly need a break, he’ll ease off…just expect him to be a lil’ pouty. 

“Stop? Already? But, I was having so much fun. And I can tell that you were, too. Must we end our playtime so soon? …Oh, fine. Just promise I won’t have to wait too long before I can have you again.”

Of course, Astarion doesn’t always have to have an easy time with his lees. He loves it when they’re stern or, if anything, when they don’t want to admit how ticklish they are.

“Pft, if you’re not ticklish, then I’m not a vampire. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I find it rather cute. You can look a beast dead in its eye, so long as it doesn’t wiggle its claws at you, hah.”

He, like most, if not all vampires, loves a good hunt. He can and will pursue obstinate lees for fun. Having stealth on his side is a huge advantage. 

His fancy, airier voice turns growly when he’s on the hunt. And, those honeyed words become devilish taunts. 

“You might want to run faster, darling. I’m right behind you.~ Perhaps if you surrender, I’ll be merciful.” 

Astarion gets a huge ego boost if he manages to get a stubborn lee laughing. "My name sounds wonderful on your lips. But, I would love to hear a 'please'."

If he has to hunt his lee down, it'll be awhile before he lets them go. "You're all mine, tav. Laugh for me~."

[nxrdist]

Abandoned || Enver Gortash x F! Resist Urge-Durge

Quick note: I may write out the coronation scene at some point, but just wasn’t feeling it at the moment. Just know, the only major difference between canon and my headcanon is before Enver says “oh! I forgot your memories have been quite lost!” He gives durge a surprise smooch. Also after the Emperor puts in his two cents that Enver isn’t lying, durge tries to read his thoughts and gets much more than she bargained for. In other words, Enver has a sense that she distrusts him and decides to broadcast NSFW memories of their relationship into her head. Almost like he knows her and they might’ve been through this whole thing before lol It's been awhile since I've written so please be kind. I've done my best to keep Gortash in character while also showing he is soft for durge.

This story will have two endings, a Gale ending & an Enver death fix it (:

Words: 3989

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“Come to me, tonight. We have so much to discuss. None will hinder you.”

She’d just stepped out of the fortress when the words were beamed into her mind in Gortash’s voice. A send message spell clearly.

______

Feravel stood at the foot of Wyrm’s rock looking up at a balcony high above. Its doors were open and light spilled out into the night. She didn’t have to investigate to know he was up there waiting for her. For nearly half an hour, Feravel sat on her boulder contemplating everything she could remember -which was admittedly very little- and comparing it with the information Gortash had shared. The most frustrating part was that she could detect no lie. He had been so infuriatingly open about the whole thing, earnest even in his proposition for an alliance. Furthermore, she supposed the Emperor was right when he suggested she could accept the alliance and not honor it. Feravel was set on destroying the brain. In no realm of existence would she use it to subjugate and that decision was only further cemented with this revelation that the whole mess…was her own doing.

She sighed. A tear forming in her eye as she remembered Gale’s harsh words.

“So this all is your doing?! You were the chosen of Bhaal? I need to be alone. I need to think.”

Astarion had tried to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she’d shrugged it off and not gone back to the Elf Song since. Instead she’d taken to meandering through the bustling streets of the Gate trying to remember her life, but gods all she could remember was blood and that unruly black haired man which she now knew had to be Enver Gortash. Even before meeting him at the coronation, she’d felt a sense of familiarity toward him -warmth- looking at his face plastered on posters around the Gate.

She turned her mind back to Gale. Gale who was so kind and genuinely good even when she was moody or difficult. Who saw the best in her always. The one she loved, but if Gale wanted space, she needed to give it to him. She couldn’t be emotional about it and then face Gortash. The man had keen eyes, he would certainly notice, so she took a moment to school herself. There was also the disadvantage that he clearly knew her and well.

Perhaps it would be easier to deal with him alone like this, though, instead of with the pressure of an audience. There were only two ways this discussion would end after all; an alliance or his death -damn what her buried self felt about it. After a deep calming breath, Feravel looked up at the balcony again and misty stepped directly onto the rail. Hopping from the rail to the stone floor with a dull thud as her manner of announcing her presence.

“You always have liked to keep me waiting.” Said Gortash, promptly and with a distinct note of fondness.

His back was to her and he was seated at his desk, but there was a meal laid out on the nearby table.

“Help yourself. I’m sure you haven’t eaten what with wandering around the city all day. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Hesitant, Feravel stood just outside on the balcony watching him. He was at ease here not troubled at all by her unconventional manner of arrival -had expected it even. Gone was his overcoat, gilded bracers, and gloves, leaving him looking oddly exposed before a possible enemy; he was dressed in only his fine black shirt, trousers and leather boots. Was it a display of confidence? Or did he genuinely believe himself safe in her presence? Either left Feravel feeling off kilter which she supposed was his aim.

“The food isn’t poison if that’s what you’re thinking.” Enver added when he didn’t hear her enter the room.

She stepped inside, but didn’t close the door behind her as she strode over to the table. Leaving herself a quick escape should she need it. Despite the fact she was hungry, Feravel ignored it in favor of asking the obvious instead.

“You’ve been spying on me?”

Enver put down his quill and turned to face her. “Spying sounds so…invasive. I’ve simply kept tabs on your little traveling group. Ever since I saw you in the eye at the goblins camp, before you destroyed it that is, I’ve kept an ear out so to speak. Nothing so organized as spying.”

Feravel wrinkled her nose. Whatever he said, it sounded very much like spying and she didn’t much appreciate it.

“Whatever.”

She plucked an orange from the fruit bowl and rolled it between her fingers. It was firm, but not hard. Fresh, he’d brought out the good stuff in anticipation of her arrival. A brief thought of the joy she’d felt when Gale had gifted her one he managed to find during their travels. Enver knew her fondness for oranges as well it seemed. How was that supposed to make her feel? Whatever his intent, it only made her more wary of him.

She considered the orange a moment longer before deciding he must be telling the truth and pulling out a paring knife to slice the fruit. Why waste good food to poison her? He certainly didn’t seem to want her dead. Nor, had she thus far detected any hint of deception from him.

Popping a slice into her mouth, Feravel turned her attention back to him. He was watching her with just the hint of a smile. She got the feeling he was remembering something she couldn’t. It made her frown. The kiss before the coronation and that memory she’d seen in his mind… She resisted the urge to covertly cast detect thoughts on him again -after all she’d gotten much more than she bargained for before.

“So what’s the play here?” She asked finally when she couldn’t take the weight of his gaze any longer.

Amusement flared in his eyes. “Play?”

Feravel furrowed her brow. “The late night meeting-“

“It is only late by your own choice. You could have come hours ago.”

“The food. This-“ She huffed, gesturing vaguely to him causing Enver to raise one eyebrow at her. “As if you’re meeting a friend…not a potential assassin.”

He chuckled. “Are you here to kill me?”

Feravel clenched her jaw. It grated her how blatantly he was enjoying himself. The urge sang with excitement at her irritation: kill him, it will please your little friends, make them a gift of him innards. It will please father. Destroy the Banite. Flay his skin, carve the smirk from his foul lips-

She abruptly shut the thoughts down.

“I could be. You did say I was your favorite assassin.”

Enver spread his arms as if in another context he might be offering a hug. “Then by all means, my dear. I am all yours.”

A muscle in her face twitched. Did he think himself funny? How foolish was he to temp her urge like this? Tense moments passed. She wondered if from his spying he’d determined she wouldn’t just kill him outright or if he was playing with her. The notion brought forth a wave of bloodlust that she had to focus to master. Consequentially causing her to miss the knowing way Enver was appraising her.

“No?” He finally asked once he deemed the moment had passed. Getting to his feet, he strode over to her, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand, but Feravel swiftly stepped back. Enver hummed apparently in consternation. “Well I suppose after all you’ve endured it would be difficult to expect us to pick up where we left off.”

Her mouth went dry. Even with the space she’d asserted between them, he was close. If he’d wanted to, Enver could still reach out and touch her. The thought made her heart race and heat rise up her neck. Her eyes flicked over his partially exposed chest and she inhaled sharply unwittingly taking in a fine scented perfume she recognized. Dark rosewood and vanilla bourbon, Feravel found herself breathing more slowly to savor the scent.

“I had hoped coming of your own will to be a good sign. That you remembered more than you were letting on infront of your companions.” He looked a touch disappointed. “But it does seem Orin did quite the number on you.”

She hummed condescendingly pushing away the fog his scent had momentarily clouded her mind with.

“Yes, well from where I’m standing it seems my nearest and dearest ally did nothing to prevent that. Perhaps I could be forgiven for not being quick to pick up where we supposedly left off.”

“But you’d trust a group of misfit strangers?”

“A parasite shared is a parasite halved…so I’ve heard.” Feravel said with a shrug.

“Well you should know. I did not let her kill you. We weren’t to meddle in eachother’s affairs. You were very clear on that. All I could do was warn you of her ambitions which I did -duly- to which you explicitly told me you intended to handle it. I wasn’t to know the inner workings of your father’s temple.”

The words sparked a feeling of recognition in her gut. A conversation long forgotten, now just whispers. She couldn’t prove or disprove his claim either way so she said nothing.

“You were gone. I have tolerated Orin for the sake of our plan, but I’ve always liked you.”

She sensed something off about the way he said liked. Slightly strained tone as if he’d almost used another word instead.

“Yes well, I hardly remember you and I know nothing of this plan as you’ve dictated it. Frankly I have no interest in either. Orin is Bhaal’s chosen and I am changed. I want only to be free of this threat of becoming a mindflayer and to go my own way.”

Enver pressed his lips into a thin line. She’d hit a nerve. Good, she thought.

“With things as they are, there is an imminent threat to all the infected, but furthermore the entire Sword Coast. Orin is becoming increasingly bold. As I told you earlier, she’s out for blood: yours and mine. She’d kill us both and take the stones for herself. You may have no interest in this plot, her, or the temple of Bhaal, but she will never stop hunting you until one of you is dead. That is a fact. One way or another you will have to deal with Orin. It is only a question of what you’ll do after that.”

She couldn’t help the small nod of agreement. It was in essence, the same conclusion she’d come to. With Orin after her, the issue would shortly come to a head and especially with the spy Enver previously revealed to be at her camp.

“I do intend to deal with Orin. On my own terms.” She said diplomatically .

“I’m sure you’ll make the right choice. An alliance benefits us both. You saw that before. ” He said. “In the mean time, it would be a horrible shame to let a good meal go to waste?”

Feravel expected more pressure from him to outright agree to working with him, but it seemed he felt little concern for it. As if he considered their alliance a foregone conclusion. It irritated her.

She glanced at the table. Her forgotten orange lay on a plate before her. Glancing at Enver, she sighed and went to take a seat. Plots, backstabbing, and alliances aside, she was hungry. Perhaps she could just ignore him while she ate and then disappear.

It was blessedly quiet between them for a time, but Feravel was not blind to the way Enver observed her mannerisms. He was searching for the person he knew in her. She could feel it, but not until she had just finished eating did he decided to speak.

“You are not quite so changed as you think. I very much doubt, you would have made it this far if you were nothing of what you once were.”

Enver did not meet her eyes as he said it, but he was watching her from behind his chalice of wine which he raised to his lips promptly after uttering the words. It was bait. Clearly, but she couldn’t help herself from taking it.

“And what was I before? A bloodthirsty murderer? Simply more controlled than Orin? Easier to steer? A weapon in the Black Hand of Bane?”

“Self assured, shrewd, and cunning.” Enver answered readily. His lips quirked up just slightly at her scornful words. “If a tad short fused…but passionate.”

“Such pretty flattery. One might almost think you earned that silver tongue from a devil.”

“Little surprise, as I did learn from one.” A proper smirk formed on Enver’s lips. “I do not know what you do remember, but I know that you heard my thoughts; or perhaps saw my memory rather, in the hall.”

The blood drained slightly from her face at being caught in her snooping. He’d made no indication at the time he was aware of her presence in his thoughts. Thinking on her feet, Feravel responded dismissively. “An illusion.”

Enver scoffed, his nose wrinkling in distain. “Unlike your little wizard plaything, illusions are not part of my repertoire.”

“A fantasy then.” Feravel snapped.

Enver let out a mirthless laugh. “I’ve never known you to delude yourself like this. Perhaps you are gone.”

“All I remember is death. Bloody, horrible death. This urge to perpetrate it that’s only barely within my control.” Gale’s concerned face as she came back to herself the night she’d almost killed him. Her own crushing guilt at the foul things she’d said. She could almost feel the burn of the ropes on her wrists. “A stain on my soul I will never wash away.”

Enver’s expression was unreadable and he seemed to have no inclination to speak. Pressure through silence, it seemed, but she did not give in at least not at first. As it dragged on, Feravel began to wonder if he was attempting to peer into her thoughts. She didn’t know if he knew such spells, but

“I didn’t know who you were until we reached the city… I saw the posters. Your face. It was familiar.”

She swallowed hard.

“I’d had dreams of a black haired man, but I never saw his face. I saw you and it just…fit? Like a shadow stepping into the light.”

“And these dreams were of what?” His shoulders were tense.

“What were we?”

“What were your dreams?”

They stared unflinchingly across the table at each other. Feravel wondered if it weren’t for the table between them if he’d reach for her again. Did she want him to? Uncertainty coursed through her. She gripped the edge of the table tightly.

“At first, I thought it was Gale I was dreaming of. We’d only just met, but I liked him. I quickly realized though, it couldn’t be him…”

Enver scowled at that. “Your pet wizard? Yes, I’ve heard of him, Mystra’s former chosen. He reached for something greater and failed. She was right to discard him. He’s not worthy of you.”

“It’s not your place to determine who’s worthy of me!”

“You are Bhaal’s chosen! A softhearted fool like that could never accept you.”

Feravel stood so quickly her chair was knocked to the floor.

“I am no one’s chosen and I am more than I was made to be!” She heaved a few deep breaths. Then she spoke again, far more calmly, staring intently at him. “I am my own person.”

“You were mine.”

Heatedly, Enver got to his feet, pushed back his chair and stalked toward her, but she could barely register his movements for his words held her rapt attention.

“I was yours.”

He cradled her cheek with a softness she would not have expected had she not experienced it before. Before? A forgotten memory triggered by his words began to unravel in her mind. It was incomplete and muddled, but the feelings it held were clear.

A calloused palm against her cheek. She leaned into it. Lips lightly brushed over her own, reverent. This was peace. Her place of rest. Father would allow her this man. So long as she did his will -which she would and gladly. Perhaps still one day, she may have to introduce Enver to her father. Father may even demand it of her. But not now, he was useful. So long as she could continue to make use of him toward her father’s aims, Enver was safe. Enver was  hers .

It had not been long before her death. She could tell that much. And she suspected this moment to have been when her old self had realized she loved Enver.

“It was because of you.” Feravel concluded aloud.

Enver furrowed his brow. “What?”

“I wouldn’t have sacrificed you to Bhaal, had he asked it of me.” Feravel simply. “I doubt he planned to, but it seems knowing that I was unwilling to do so was enough.”

She let out a breathy laugh.

Then Enver was kissing her like a man dying of thirst and she was a spring in a desert. She was carried away by the intensity and familiarity of it so easily. Her fingers brushed tentatively along his jaw as she raised a hand to thread her fingers in his hair. It was just as fine and soft as in her dreams -except this was real. Enver was not a faceless shadow.

He let out a breath he must’ve been holding and drew her more firmly to him wrapping her tightly in his embrace. The way their lips moved and felt together was as natural as breathing. Her body yearned to surrender to him. There was no denying, Enver was telling the truth. This could not be manufactured, imitated or faked. The feelings his embrace elicited within her were not unlike how she felt for Gale. That worried her.

How easy would it be to stay here? Enver seemed to hold the key to so many of her lost memories. Just days ago she had been desperate still to know some semblance of who she was. Now, it was difficult to sort through what she wanted.

What a difference a day can make.

She was starting to feel choked up like she couldn’t breathe and her fingers slipped from Enver’s hair, running down his neck, over his shoulders to rest on his chest. Suddenly Feravel pulled back, but Enver didn’t allow her to go far -tightening his grip on her waist. Enver leaned his head against her’s as they caught their breath.

It took him a moment to realize there were tears running down her cheeks. So strange, he once thought he may never see her cry. Cautiously he wiped one away.

“Fera?” He said barely above a whisper.

With effort, she swallowed any further tears and looked up into his dark brown eyes which were so unlike Gale’s honey brown.

“I should thank you, I suppose.”

Enver furrowed his brow.

“Whatever we had, ultimately made me my own person. It was enough for Bhaal to abandon me.”

She wasn’t free by any means, but perhaps she could be. Killing Orin might be the key to free herself of father and the urge. Whether that meant her death or a life without the evil hiss in her ear, the devil on her shoulder, she didn’t know.

Enver leaned in again and brushed his lips against hers. It was just the faintest touch, but warmth spread through her from it. She could sense he was being cautious and deliberate now.

“I never told you.” He murmured lowly against her lips. Feravel kept still with anticipation. Her eyes closed, breathing steady, committing this moment to her memory. “There wasn’t a right moment, you understand? But I have to now.”

Love. He didn’t have to say it. Despite the broken thing she now was, he still loved her. Whatever he’d been searching for in his observations he’d examined her and had not found her wanting. To him, she was still somehow the same. An overwhelming prospect.

Feravel felt her heart in her throat. Just that morning, Gale had turned to her at the breakfast table and told her he loved her -just because as he often did. Then Astarion had to ruin the moment with an eye roll and a comment about toothaches which earned him a slug in the shoulder from Karlach. There was no one here to interrupt with banter, to ruin this moment though, only them.

She opened her eyes to find his face mere centimeters away.

“I…I can’t.”

Feravel tried to extricate herself from him, but he held her in place. His grip firm, but gentle he stroked her cheek with his thumb, staring deeply into her eyes. For a second, she almost wanted to lean back in, to erase her words.

“Why did you come?”

She furrowed her brow at him. What sort of question was that? He’d summoned her. But he didn’t give her time to answer before continuing.

“You should’ve known I wouldn’t have pursued or forced you here. Our matters are better left private. Causing a scene by dragging you before me would’ve brought scrutiny.“

“How pragmatic.” She said shortly.

He waved the comment away. “I would’ve been upset to be sure, but as I said before somethings are best handled discreetly. So why did you come?”

Silence hung thick between them. Feravel unwilling to utter a response and Enver unwilling to allow the question to pass. Their stalemate went on until Enver tired of her obstinance.

“You wandered the city all day instead of returning to your companions. Then you came to me. Could it be then that you feared their judgement? Or the judgement of one in particular.”

“What do you want from me?” She snapped.

“Are you so blind?” He released her, but didn’t withdraw. There was a tone of weariness in his voice. His guard was coming back up. “I do not take to heart this distraction you’ve taken in the wizard, but now you’re returned to me. You do not need to be burdened by the opinions of sheep.” He paused, then in a more business like tone. “I will provide for you anything you require to retake the cult of Bhaal or destroy it -whichever you choose.”

Feravel stared at him. Men of exceptional ambition. Was this her type? Two different lives she’d lived and yet. Despite their vast differences, she’d fallen for men who were not so terribly unalike as they first appeared.

“I-I have to go.”

Without giving him a chance to pull her back, Feravel nimbly twisted away, misty stepped to the rail and jumped -opening a dimension door below her as she fell. She didn’t see Enver race for the balcony to peer over the edge and only just catch a glimpse of her portal before it popped out of existence.

Frustration boiled in him at her disappearance, leaving him feeling exposed in a way he would never usually allow. He slammed his fist on the table to release some of the pent up emotion. She would be back he told himself. After disposing of Orin, she would return to him one way or another.

However, he’d known this was a possibility. He’d gambled with how much she could remember -allowing his emotions to take too much of the lead. It had been unlikely for her to agree to anything right away. She’d always had a will of her own and did still. Besides, he mused, it would’ve been unpalatably weak had she just crumpled, immediately abandoning her newfound compatriots. The lord Bane would not have been pleased with such an ally or companion for his chosen.

[autistichalsin]

This is something between a headcanon, a fic idea, and a ficlet, but...

Summary: The Tadfools have realized something about Halsin- something even Halsin himself didn't know. Wyll gets volun-told to talk to him.

Halsin had grown up in a community of wood elves. And of course, this community of his was far from perfect, but it was his, and it was all he knew.

They were also very close to the local Druidic circles, and so no one was surprised when he expressed an early interest in joining them. As a show of goodwill/recruitment strategy, the local Archdruid offered little lessons to young children, showing them how they might manipulate their wildshape. As children, few of them managed; it was considered impressive (and adorable, to boot) if a child accomplished cat ears and a tail. Halsin managed this, proudly showing his parents his little ears the day of his first lesson.

The second lesson, he turned into a bear, to the bafflement of everyone- except his parents, who took aside the Archdruid for a quiet word.

Somehow, even though he could transform into the bear any time he wanted- and many times he didn't want to, at that- it would be a few more years before he could transform into anything else, only managing the partial transformations his peers had. In spite of this, the Archdruid seemed so faithful that he had great power within him; all the more so when Halsin spoke to him of his mysterious companion, a nature spirit who wouldn't reveal himself to any others.

No one said anything about Halsin's mysterious affinity for bears, and he thought nothing of it. He was kept too distracted with lessons to notice any patterns to it, whether those were triggers, or timing of his transformations.

it was just a part of him, and it stayed that way as he grew older, became an initiate, and mastered his wildshape faster than any of his peers- aside from lacking control over his bear. When he became a proper Druid, too, no one had anything to say.

It changed when he became Archdruid- people began to remark on how strange, and worrisome, it was for an Archdruid to lack control of himself. But there was little anyone could do about it, when the numbers of Druids had fallen so critically low. Even after a century, they had simply not recovered. It wasn't common for shorter-lived species to become Druids, and of course, the longer-lived ones weren't born as often. They'd simply have to wait for their numbers to replenish like a forest regrowing saplings after a wildfire.

So, really, Halsin couldn't be blamed for not knowing. It had always been treated as just a strange quirk of his, and though he had heard a certain word a few times in his studies, no one had ever given any indication it had applied to him. It was a word for others, not himself.

But then came Tav and their tadpoled companions, and with them came a remarkable amount of both insight and bluntness where their lives were concerned. Naturally, that extended to Halsin.

When he saw them approaching him, Wyll opening his mouth with a look that made it clear he'd lost an argument about who would have to speak- never a good sign- Halsin tensed reflexively, knowing he wasn't going to like what came next.

Sure enough, he didn't, as Wyll asked something completely illogical. "Halsin, were you going to ever... tell us what you are?" he asked, in a tone that made it clear they were all less than happy. "We don't judge you, of course- Astarion's a vampire! But we needed to know so we could prepare ourselves!"

Halsin stared, dumbfounded. "Prepare yourselves for what?" he asked, staring at them, more confused than he ever had been.

"... You truly don't know?" Wyll asked, sitting next to him. "How could you not? You even told us you couldn't control the bear!"

"Well, I cannot always," Halsin admitted, cheeks coloring a bit from embarrassment. Hells. When was the last time he had blushed? "As I said, sometimes, when blood runs hot-"

"-But we aren't talking about blood running hot, though, that probably is related," Wyll said patiently. "Halsin, last night was a full moon. Surely... surely you have some idea what you did? Even though you wouldn't remember directly, surely someone else told you before?"

Halsin shook his head. "Enlighten me," he requested, swallowing hard.

"... You really don't know," Wyll said again, rubbing his forehead. "Hells. Ah... You... transformed. Into a bear. None of us were hurt, but it was quite difficult to calm you. I know that generally, werebears don't remember what you d-"

"-Werebear?!" Halsin repeated, stunned. He shook his head, laughing. "My friend, I am not a were. I simply have hot blood running in my veins, and... well, little other outlet for my emotions, which love to make themselves known when they have been caged for too long."

"... Right." Wyll spoke slowly, disbelievingly. "... Halsin. You are an intelligent man. You know many other Druids, some of which with passions much more intense than your own. No other Druid struggles so. It is just you. It doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you! But if we hadn't been able to calm you- if you weren't happier as a bear than as an elf- one of us might have been hurt."

"I would never have attacked you, my friend." The mere implication stung, and Halsin's voice reflected that fact. "And I would not say I am happier as a bear. Merely... more like myself."

Wyll's grimace certainly didn't help, and Halsin groaned, rubbing his eyebrow in irritation. "My friend, I assure you, it is a mere coincidence. I have been like this since I was a child; my mother and father would have had no reason to keep this from me. It is simply another uncommon trait I possess, like my size." He looked down at his hands, flexing them.

"... Halsin." Wyll inhaled sharply. "I did not know your parents, so I cannot say what they thought, what they did, or why. I can simply tell you what we see. We see a man who, despite being an extraordinarily powerful Circle of the Moon druid, cannot control his actions in bear wildshape- but only in bear form, still capable of controlling himself in all others. We see a man who cannot control his transformations, either, when overcome with emotions. We see a man who speaks of his bear form as though it was a separate entity from himself. And we see a man who transformed at the full moon, with no memory of having done so." Wyll gazed down at the ground. "I enjoy a good gambling game every now and again, but even I would not bet on this being anything else, Halsin."

Halsin fell silent, and Wyll looked guilty now. "It does not change anything, you know, about who you... are." He reached up, touching his horns self-consciously. "You are still yourself, just as you were... a half an hour ago, before you knew any of this. This simply... lets you know so you may make the first step to controlling your wild side."

Halsin opened his mouth, but no sound came. He was staring into the fire, suddenly unsure, suddenly reliving his entire life through a new lens. It couldn't be... but Wyll was making a frightening amount of sense.

He just couldn't understand why. Why this was so. Why this had been kept from him. Why he had only discovered it now, and why it had taken this group of people to reveal it to him.

Fear and betrayal and something else he couldn't identify rose inside him. Before he was aware of it happening, much less able to stop it, his eyes flashed yellow, his body was engulfed in golden light, and his cave bear stood where the elf just had been.

Halsin could have changed back. He decided he didn't want to.

Instead, he let out a sad little noise, inched forward, and rested his big, fluffy head in Wyll's lap.

"... Okay. Okay. Cuddling. I can do that," Wyll muttered, petting Halsin's snout. "Look... sometimes parents make mistakes when they want to protect you. I mean, hells, you probably know that already, you're way older than me... but sometimes we need reminding. They were just trying to protect you, I think, but... sometimes, our attempts to help the ones we love hurt them more instead."

Halsin let out a little huff, and reached out a paw, gently patting Wyll's horns. Wyll nodded. "Precisely," he said, taking Halsin's paw in his hands. "So... look. I can't imagine it's fun to be you right now, realizing all this after 350 years and everything, but... Well. You were way too normal for our group anyway, my friend. You had to be more of a misfit to fit in with our group of misfits, see?" He laughed a little, and was rewarded with another huff of air, this one a little lighter, and what he swore was a smile. "Chin up, Halsin. We're here for you, like you have been for us, okay? And... don't... If this form makes you feel safer, you don't need to turn back any time soon. Not until you're ready."

Another bear-smile, and Halsin pressed closer, burying his face. Wyll smiled too. "You're welcome, my friend. You'd do the same for any of us."

[glitteryinknotes]

This face haunts me.

Sebastian.

This poor sweet soul, no different than the unnamed "darling boy". The only difference between them being that when Astarion got to him - he didn't have it in himself to disobey his master's commands anymore.

Sebastian. His life, his joys, his innocence stolen from him. Who was he? Who did he wish to be? Who could have he become in his time? We will never know. He will never know.

This moment in Astarion's storyline hit me in the face unlike any other. More than the hug and the confession. Not only because this is the moment we truly see the abhorrence of our lover's past deeds, but because Sebastian is presented as someone we - as the Tav romancing Astarion - are supposed to relate to personally.

We may not be exactly the same. Astarion's goals may be different, we may not be as naive, circumstances might be different alltogether. We may be smarter, more powerful, more experienced, more careful, whoever you headcanon your Tav to be and how their relationship with Astarion looks like in detail.

But it doesn't change the bottom truth.

We are the same fools who acted with kindness, benevolence and trust when it made no sense to do so. We are the ones who extended our trust and affection without any solid reason to. It paid off in our case - Astarion eventually trusted us, opened himself to us, allowed the morality and conscience he still had in himself to guide him for once, and showed willingness to be a better person - but we didn't know that he would when we invited him to our neck, followed him into the forest and in the first place - invited someone who just threatened us with a knife to our party.

We are the same fools who came to love and trust someone - objectively - probably undeserving of genuine love and trust, as things were back then.

Sebastian is one of the few true innocents Astarion seduced. Not a street drunk, minor criminal, brother patron. Not a degenerate from the city's underbelly. He is the true face of the horror Cazadorr unleashed through his vampiric pawns. This is what we choose to look past, forgive and take upon ourselves as someone caring for Astarion. This is the responsibility we must bear, the burden on our conscience we must now live with. If we truly care for him - and wish to think about ourselves as a person of any morals or a kind heart (which is the type of person who, storywise, pushes Astarion to be better than he was as we first encountered him, better than he himself ever thought he could be) - this is the "burden" that comes with the man we believe in and choose to be with, who we choose to see as someone better than everyone else sees him).

The seven thousand ritual - bound souls are now our burden as well. Our responsibility.

I personally believe that the choice to seek & aid the spawns in the Underdark is the only right choice for Tav & Astarion's story conclusion. To deal with the consequences of our choices; for Astarion to prove (if only to himself) that he indeed "can be better" than the one who made him and creatures like him; to finish doing the right thing. Cazadorr's end is a pivotal moment for Astarion, but even more for all the other unfortunate enslaved souls. For him is the final, decisive step towards healing and growing, for them... It's entirely up to you.

You and Astarion have all the time you need, in his own words. You can travel the world, engage in every kind of delicious debauchery Faerun has to offer, find a way to reverse vampiric curse, settle down in luxury and enjoy each other, probably all of the above, but I myself have been convinced, since the moment I saw Sebastian that tthe spawns should come first.

Help them the best you can. Make sure they have any joy in their tragic unlife, community, guidance, stability, safety, future, if that's even possible. Find a better place for them to settle down than the Underdark. Possibilities are endless, nothing is impossible in a magic - filled realm like Faerun. If Astarion has been lucky enough - they deserve a chance as well. If Sebastian - and those like him - deserve a chance, so do the other seven thousand.

And then you can go and have every fun awaiting two people happily in love.

[vitanithepure]

I'm getting back into the groove with my writing after a short period of totally forgetting how to form coherent words, and my mind instantly went to my BG3 comfort pairing. That being Gale/Astarion, or bloodweave if you prefer, if anyone reading this is new to my tiny space on tumblr.

And I remember seeing people wonder why choose this ship when it's obviously "not gonna work". Usually in unposted anons I got, and usually in a very much more passive-aggressive tone, but whatever. It just got me wondering why do I like them together so much? Because I just saw them and went "yeah, that's it, they fit" without considering why.

Because yeah, I agree, that at first glance it's a weird pair to ship. They have those surface level differences:

streetsmarts vs booksmarts

improviser vs planner

flirty vs seeking connection

indifferent vs caring

(wanted to say extrovert vs introvert but that was just Astarion fooling me, yet again, into believing he really is as outgoing as he leads on. Sneaky vampire.)

But the beauty of BG3 characters lies in their complexity, and in that one doesn't need to dig that deep to find similarities that amazingly make each of them…shippable with each other. The themes they got going on in their personal stories just reflect each other so well done.

So we have those two men, both servants to beings indefinitely more powerful than them. One unwilling, the other quite the opposite, but both deeply mistreated. Both carry their shares of scars, both physical and not.

They both seek power because of this, and no other origin companions share this trait with them. They want it to gain freedom and regain agency in their lives. And this is what I love the most about this pairing - that quest for power can lead to so many different outcomes and I am inspired by all of them. I can't name my favorite, because there is beauty to be found in each. Even if it's fleeting, giving way to tragedy down the line. I enjoy a good dose of that angst as well, not gonna lie.

They can both forgo their quest for power completely, find what they are looking for in each other. Astarion will always be safe with Gale, and Gale will find that lifetime commitment he craves so much with Astarion. And imagine how hard Gale will look for a way for his lover to enjoy the sun again? To what lengths he would go to for this alone? And how Astarion would be not letting his beloved wizard to hurt himself in the process? But at the same time, being right next to him, believing in him? In them?

Or they could go batshit crazy with power and it's fine, too. They become powerful together. True, it requires a bit of headcanoning here, but since when did this stop ships from happening? It also is true that one becomes a monster, the other indifferent with time, but the years they spend together? The wild devotion they will have for each other? The burning passion that you never know if it will consume them or just explode and burn out?

And there are a few dynamics in between! What if Astarion ascends, but Gale doesn't? What if it's the other way around? What if one regrets their decision? And I love exploring this, and I'll always root for the dorky wizard who has so much love to give to this stray vampire spawn that has enough holes in his soul to let it sip in, slowly but steadily.

[haliteatiger]

This my "Tav", Silence. I'm still sorta working out her background details, but for now it's safe to say she's had it pretty rough.

Check below the cut for a lot of rambling and pointless, self-indulgent headcanons.

Her name comes from the fact that she didn't speak for the first few years of her life, instead learning to play the violin and communicating through her art. Someone started calling her "Little Silence" and it just sort of stuck. She didn't know her parents, but was adopted by a noble who saw her as a unique "pet" given her unusual appearance - even for a tiefling - and her musical and artistic talents.

Unfortunately, the guy was bad with money, and ended up gambling away a good portion of whatever Silence earned, in the end becoming desperate enough to try and auction off her virginity when she came of age. Silence, obviously, was not going to stand for this, and managed to escape - possibly killing the man who bought her in the process, she wasn't sure and frankly doesn't care.

With only her violin and a precious few belongings in tow, Silence made her way to Baldur's Gate and was eventually found by a gang of performers and thieves (that I have yet to come up with a name for) where she learned ways on how to survive on the streets and defend herself with her art. Now in her late 20s, and poised to set out on her own due to some complications within her social circle, she was taken aboard the Nautiloid.

There are two sides to Silence - one is kind of quiet, observant, and sensitive. She has a way of simply blending into the background if she doesn't want to be observed (she's good at Stealthing, I guess), and the other is her more or less "bard persona", which is outgoing and charismatic. Contrary to her name, Silence can be quite talkative when the mood strikes her. It's usually when she becomes angry, flustered, or anxious where she seems to forget words entirely and has a hard time articulating herself, which has led into some dramatic situations when she lashes out more physically.

Overall, she's easygoing, and tries very hard not to let her emotions get in the way of her making decisions, and so often comes off as more pragmatic than anything. She's also pretty accepting of those around her even if she is, in actuality, slow to trust. I guess you could say she's highly manipulative as a defence mechanism. So it's not that she lies to people, per se, but she can come off as liking someone more than she does if only to deflect harm from herself. She is not a people-pleaser, however, and has very defined boundaries in terms of how far she's willing to concede to someone, especially a stranger. She's excellent at reading people (most of the time), acts more confident than she seems, knows a little about a lot of topics, and is always eager to learn more. She can be impulsive and rude without meaning to, and has something of a sarcastic and dry sense of humor that always seems almost prepared in advance whenever she snaps back at someone. Her charisma and wit often seem to leave others with the mistaken impression that she knows what she's doing in any given situation, and thus has often been beset with expectations she's sure she's more often than not fallen short of. Somehow, people just seem to think she's the most competent one in the room because she talks a good talk. Due to her dual upbringing, she is capable of blending in with high society as well as she does low. Silence will generally act within her own best interests or those of her friends, but it doesn't really take much to persuade her to do the right thing.

A good example would be when she and the gang arrive at the druid hold and is asked to help the tieflings. Initially she denies getting involved until mocked by Astarion for "turning her back on the needy", at which point, just to annoy him, agrees to help. (Although, when pressed she admits she mostly did it because she realized they needed some things in the area anyway and helping them could be beneficial to their cause). She can have kind of an impish sense of humor and while she doesn't like to see others get hurt, probably does take more pleasure in watching her enemies die writhing in agony than she'd care to admit.

Random fun fact: Silence is a feral tiefling, and her tail is supposed to be reminiscent of a heraldic unicorn's or lion's tail. She often carries it with a curl or S shape as she has a somewhat chronic fear of it being stepped on or pulled. She also has cat-like eyes (that I've had to mod in, but really wish Larian would include them naturally in the game because why not??? Same with more variations in tails...)

Other fun fact is that Silence has a Secret Power in which she's capable of using her tadpole to influence those around her when she plays a song infused with a particular strong emotion. Unfortunately, she cannot replicate the song later, at least not in the same way or with the same impact as when she played it. This generally acts like an empathic attack on those who can see and hear her, impressing upon them the emotion she's attempting to convey through song which can manifest in the audience's minds as how she imagines it - so a full orchestra if that's what she's hearing in her head. As one can imagine, the situations in which this is actually useful are few and far between, as it would require the proper conditions and emotional preparation for it to be effective, although I like to imagine she has used it a few times on a smaller scale to calm tensions in the group when camping some nights.

Relationships with the other NPCs:

Lae'zel - Admires her strength, but is suspicious of her motivations mostly because she seems more than capable of finding this creche by herself, but instead wants to drag the rest of them along with her. Either she's hiding an altruistic side to her or something else is going on. Silence tolerates Lae'zel's nasty attitude, but also can't help but find her and her people's culture fascinating. She often tries to overlook the Gith's biting tongue in order to inquire more about it. It's a mystery to Silence what Lae'zel truly thinks of her, but it's probably nothing good (even if she seems to get bonus points every time she shows an interest in her people.) About the only time she gets anything resembling a compliment from her is when she agrees with her about the use of their tadpole or if she does something worth being commended for in battle. Otherwise, Lae'zel doesn't seem to be terribly fond of Silence's violin playing as the high-pitched tones seem to bother her.

Gale - Gale and her get along famously, and, next to Wyll, finds him probably one of the easiest to talk to in the group. They both share a great interest in magic and, at times, a similar sense of humor (which is to say she's about as bad at puns as he is). They're both well-travelled and well-educated, and if she doesn't know or understand something magic-related, she's quick to ask Gale for guidance, and enjoys seeing him in his element. Gale seems fond of her wit, open-mindedness, and appreciation and interest she takes in the world around her and those that live in it. She seems to have a genuine interest and appreciation for everyone in the group and admires her dedication to watching their backs, even if it's obvious she doesn't entirely trust any of them. He likes that she seems to know a surprising amount about wizardry despite not being one herself - at least enough to ask advanced questions about things that he might consider to be outside the interest of most bards, as well as the fact that she isn't easily fazed by things that would turn most people's stomachs or make them balk in disbelief. As could be evidenced by her rather extensive anatomy studies on the bodies of their fallen enemies ("It's free art references!")

Admittedly, Silence was a bit shocked and uncomfortable to learn about Gale's history and his need to consume magic artifacts, but as he seems sincere in his efforts to keep it under control, chooses not to worry about it and does what she can to support him, which he greatly appreciates. There's still that little nagging voice in the back of her mind, however, even if he's friendly enough to get her to forget that at times. She has to remind herself on occasion that she doesn't really know him.

Shadowheart - Shadowheart and her also get along very well, even if they're both somewhat guarded around each other still, and Shadowheart, when not in the right mood, can be very difficult to talk to just in general. But, it's Silence who is first to lower her defenses, and speak to the Shar acolyte candidly. Silence finds the two of them have a lot in common in terms of how they approach most situations - pragmatic but always erring to self-preservation or that of the group's. Shadowheart seems to appreciate Silence's amicability, willingness to compromise, and respects that, even though she is friendly, she isn't naive about it. It also helps that Silence doesn't seem to have a problem with her being a worshipper of Shar and respects her desire for privacy even without being prompted. Silence appreciates how much of a team player Shadowheart really is, with her main interests usually centring around maintaining the group and essentially keeping everyone content enough not to turn on one another.

Astarion - Even though she enjoys picking on him from time to time, it's almost always in a way that he can also appreciate. She finds it more fun when the other person is in on the joke as well. This can and does include flirting, but thus far, she's made it pretty clear that she perceives it as simply something to laugh about (even if he might be absolutely serious about it). Unfortunately, at least initially, she also finds Astarion to be one of the hardest to read among the group, and picking on him isn't something she started doing until she knew where his boundaries lay. Up until then, she approached him delicately, allowing him to lead the conversations and learning what she could along the way, which, fortunately, he seems more than happy to do. As a result, he takes her quite a bit longer to translate than the rest, and doesn't feel entirely comfortable around him for a long time to come, really only engaging with him whenever he wishes to engage with her. As a result, the vampire tends to find Silence the most comfortable and trustworthy one of the group even if she seems careful enough not to let him get too close. He's likely the first to notice how little Silence voluntarily shares about herself, often distracting the others with reassurances, compliments, and asking questions she thinks they would enjoy answering.

Despite this he appreciates that she's easygoing and down-to-earth, while still having a good sense of humor and seems to know when to take something seriously, and, while at times seemingly easily impressed with the world around her (like he's one to talk), also seems to accept it for what it is and adapts accordingly.

In actuality, Astarion has about as much trouble reading her as she does him, as he's found it impossible to tell if she's genuine in her compliments and expressing interest in others around her. She certainly seems to have a gift for getting people to trust her. She's good at taking control of conversations and deflecting away from topics she doesn't want to talk about in the least offensive way possible, and he's made the mistake of reading her sincerity as naivety. She intrigues him as almost every time he thinks he has her figured out, she does or says something unexpected, or contrary to what he would assume about her, and he's not even sure if she's doing it on purpose. It's possibly a matter of them being out of step with one another, being of differing natures, even if he gets on better with her than he has anyone else in recent memory (insofar as we know about his story at least).

About the only things that get on his nerves at times is that she's maybe a little too soft, and a little too cautious and prone to overthinking than is good for her, mostly because it ends up involving dragging them into doing something boring or "unproductive" (not to their overall benefit). Never mind that she's encouraged him to wait in camp or go on without them if he has a problem with their decisions. It also bugs him that, even if she sees the merit in using the tadpoles, she's on board with the others that it isn't safe to do so until they know exactly what it is they're dealing with. Rather by accident, it would seem, Astarion finds himself liking her more than he realizes, especially after his condition comes to light and, lo and behold, she's not only okay with it, she wants to know everything about it and how they can use it to their benefit, even if she doesn't seem to be too terribly keen on being fed off of, as long as he can sate himself with bandits and ne'er-do-wells, she's off the hook insofar as she's concerned... for now, and has basically told him that she's his "emergency supply" if circumstances require it.

Despite all this, Silence is still vigilant, and while she trusts him with certain things, doesn't trust him completely, and knows full well the lengths to which his type is willing to go to cover their attempts at taking advantage of a situation.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Please do

"Look that pretty exoression. I always knew you could make one." + "Let me stay lije this in you for a little bit." 😜

I completely forgot about those smut prompts! Well, a chance to write fics about Tiriel and Astarion!

Our Firsts

Synopsis: Astarion learns some details about Tiriel's past

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, PIV, NSFW

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Freedom.

Astarion tastes the word on his tongue.

Freedom.

No parasite in his brain. No voice in his head.

Freedom.

He says this to himself daily, getting used to being able to do whatever he wants. Well, as long as it's dark but there is always a price to pay. Besides, he hasn't lost hope of finding a cure.

"Hm? Are you awake?"

Tiriel's voice sounds muffled as she lies her face pressed in the pillow. She sleeps naked, half of her body covered with a blanket. He can see her freckled back and the way her half-elven ears protrude a bit.

Tiriel falls back to sleep again, but Astarion puts his hands on her shoulders and kisses the nape of her neck.

"Wake up, I miss you"

"You are worse than a cat, love," she mutters. "Let me sleep!"

Astarion does mental math and decides Tiriel has slept enough—besides, too much sleep is unhealthy for non-elves.

He hugs her right below her perky tits and turns her around on her back. Her nipples immediately harden, sensing the cold air.

Astarion pauses at her chest for a few moments. He hasn't made love to Tiriel for a few months, since that night in the graveyard. He just couldn't make himself—and Tiriel didn't insist. They literally had sex only twice—back then, when he thought he seduced her and then in the graveyard.

Ever since—all these months—Tiriel has been showing him all forms of intimacy that  don’t involve sex.

He especially enjoys cuddling during sleep, even though he just lays motionless with Tiriel in his arms for all these insanely long silent hours she needs to rest.

"Date a vampire, they say," she covers her face with her palms. "You will be able to sleep the whole day, they say".

Astarion leans toward her and kisses her hands. She looks adorable—puffy eyes, dark circles because of the excess ale she drank the day before, a string of drool on her chin.

"Is it night?"

"Not yet."

They sit like that in silence. Astarion looks at Tiriel—there are so many questions he wants to ask her. There is nothing about his life she doesn't know—but he realizes he doesn't know much about her.

Except for her miserable childhood and twenty years of traveling, when a runaway girl from the Sunset Mountains slowly became a furious warrior capable of challenging gods, monsters, and fate.

"Tiriel."

"Hm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," She caresses his back scars and kisses the center of the disgusting symbol carved into his skin.

"Did you have many..." he tries to find an appropriate word. Lovers? Sexual partners? Significant others? He called his victims conquests and lovers but, gods, he wishes he never had to sleep with them. It was all dirty and tainted, and he often wanted to flay his skin himself. 

Just to forget.

"I mean. Was there anyone before me? I am just curious."

Tiriel looks at him. Her eyes have different colors—the right one is closer to blue, and the left—is more green.

"No one."

"Tiriel, I am not jealous or anything. I just ... want to know"

"And I am letting you know you were my first. In terms of relationship and in terms of sex. You were the first person in this whole world after my bitch of a mother who saw me naked. And you are the first person who I am in love with."

Astarion pulls away. Memories of their first night together flash before his eyes. He remembers being prepared for a long evening of seduction and sweet words before Tiriel the Barbarian was at his side, but when he turned his head to her, she was already naked and looking at him with such defiance that he got right to the point.

"Tiriel, I am sort of a professional in these matters. You were not a virgin."

"I was. Astarion, there are plenty of ways a girl can explore her body without involving other people, especially the ones with cocks between their legs. If the matter of my virgin blood bothers you, it was spilled somewhere in Elturel. I don't remember the name of the Inn. And the stone thing of the "proper" form was left in the room I'd rented."

Tiriel touches his left ear and it sends an electrical impulse through his body. "As for my behavior, I was so afraid I would be turned into a monster, my self-control and fears had offed themselves. You had been courting me for days, saying words no man ever told me. And I decided it was my chance to finally get this...experience. And I wasn't disappointed— that night was everything. I was a bit sad you weren’t offering to repeat the experience,as if you didn't like me enough. But whatever—you are my first love, my first kiss, my first sex, my first relationship. And gods, I hope you are also the last"

Astarion intertwines Tiriel's fingers with his. Then he kisses her knuckles and she giggles at the sensation.

"My love," he manages to say.

In a way, she is also his first. Not only the first sentient creature he'd dined on—and her blood always tasted different to him—she was the first he kissed voluntarily, the first person he slept with for his own sake, the first he fell in love with and the first... he wanted to be with.

Of course, she is mortal and even though half-elves live much longer than humans they don't have much time in comparison with his immortality, or the longevity of elven years.

But he prefers not to think about it.

Tiriel kisses the tip of his nose. Her facial expression becomes playful.

"You are the only one who saw me naked," another kiss. "You are the only one who touched me. The only one who was inside me and the only one who filled me. All these years..." she kisses his lips. "I was saving myself for you".

She stops, waiting for his response. They agreed that since he has no idea when he’ll want to have sex again (but he will want to someday), she is free to initiate—and he is free to stop her.

Before now, she'd done it three times—and he never found the moral strength to let her continue.

Tiriel waits. Astarion feels her arousal. If he says "no", she will just use her fingers to pleasure herself somewhere behind a tree. She won't be angry or annoyed. She never is. For Tiriel, the relationship is so much more than sex, her focus is on other things.

He caresses her cheek, trying to decide what to do.

But his own body has already made a decision and he feels tension in his pants.

He wants her.

He wants to fuck her.

He wants her to scream his name, to scratch his back, to come because of his touches. He wants to see the red sparkles in her eyes when she rides her orgasm, a distant shade of what’s happening to her when she is in a rage.

He wants her to clench around him, to tug him so close he won’t be able to pull away by himself.

He grabs her shoulders and pushes Tiriel on the bedroll. She is already naked and he doesn’t need to waste time on dealing with her clothes.

Astarion kisses Tiriel and slips his hand between her legs. 

“So wet for me,” he murmurs.

He gets rid of his shirt and leans to kiss Tiriel again. She reaches out for the laces of his trousers and sets his manhood free.

“So hard for me,” she answers and strokes him.

It doesn’t take him a lot of effort to get rid of the rest of his clothes.

He aligns himself with her swollen entrance and slips inside, causing Tiriel to gasp.

“I forgot how thick it is,” she whimpers in pleasurable pain. “Damn, let me adjust”

Her walls clench around him and Astarion thinks he is going to cum right away.

“How did you even survive the first time?” he coos, wrapping himself around her. Now his teeth are right in front of her neck and her heart is so close he can mistake its beat for his own.

“I was drunk and had a parasite in my head. Besides, you had bitten me,” she pants. “And … oh gods… I couldn't shut my legs the next morning…”

He rolls his hips, forcing Tiriel to moan, and thrusts with all the passion he’s saved in those months.

She grabs a fistful of his hair and now it’s his time to groan with pleasure. 

“Tiriel,” he gasps looking into her eyes.

“Don’t … hold…yourself,” she begs.

Astarion pins her down to the bedroll.

“Don’t ask for what you can’t endure.”

“Try me, my love.”

He moves down and pierces her neck. Blood gushes down his throat. He pulls away after a few gulps and licks the skin.

Then, he goes down covering her body in bites and kisses, her blood mixing up with his saliva.

He elbows up so he can see her face and thrusts harder and harder. Her moans become cries, her fingers pierce his skin and her legs wrap around his waist tugging him close.

His mind gets blurry—his whole world is shrunk to their small tent, Tiriel’s heartbeat, and the wet warmth between them.

Astarion feels his release getting close and he presses his forehead to hers.

He finishes inside Tiriel and collapses on her like a weighted blanket.

Tiriel pants. Her face is red and her eyes are completely empty. Her mouth is half open and her whole facial expression is so stupid he grins.

“Look at that pretty expression. I always knew you could make one.”

Tirel finally makes eye contact with him and pats his hip.

“What is it darling?”

“Don’t you want to pull away?”

“Let me stay inside you for a little bit,” he places his head on her breasts. Tiriel’s body is warm and safe and he doesn’t want to move.

She kisses the crown of his head. “Then, stay.”

Time passes slowly. Tiriel draws invisible lines on his back and shoulder.

He finally releases her hips and adores her body. She is covered in bite marks, and there are bruises on her wrists. Legs are still wide open and his spend leaks on the bedroll.

Tiriel sits up and presses her knees against her chest. She doesn’t make an effort to clean the sticky mess.

“Are you all right?” She finally asks.

He nods. Gods, he wants to do that over and over again. 

“It’s dark already. No matter how much I love being covered in blood and sweat, I desperately need to wash. And, I think, so do you.”

“Careful, darling, I might want to have another round.”

“Who said I wouldn’t want to?”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

ANGST WARNING: How would Ace!Tav react to Astarion dying and being unable to revive him? Or vice versa -- how would Astarion react?

A/N: There is actually a lot to this, so here is a headcanon in three parts. Apologies for the length.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Passively Suicidal Thoughts, Major Character Death, Heavy Angst

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

How Ace!Tav Would React to Astarion Dying and Unable to be Revived

In order for this to happen, it would be sudden and unexpected

There would be no preparing for his death

They always thought Astarion would outlive them, he's an immortal vampire, but, more importantly, he's a survivor, always has been

I'm thinking he'd have to be burned up in the sun or something else like it; revivify and raise dead both require a body and the sun would turn him into ash

Maybe he gets caught by surprise, maybe Tav can’t get to him in time or maybe he pushed them out of the way of a blast; the result is the same

No final words, no last touches, there’s nothing left, not even a body

Tav wouldn’t be able to move, the rest of the world going fuzzy at the edges and silent

It would take another party to get them to move, literally dragging them away from the scene like dead weight

It’s takes them several moments to come to their senses, to fight back because he can’t just be gone

There has to be something left, something they could use to bring him back

If it’s an ally with them then they’d hold them back telling them they need to get somewhere safe

They would be in full denial, trying desperately to think of something, anything, this can’t be how it ends

But there’s nothing, not a single thing they can do

Once that realization dawns, they just go numb

They spent so much of their life just surviving; they don’t want to go back to that, not when they finally had a taste of what it was to live

They’re just so tired, maybe it would be easier to just…sleep

Even the thought of revenge is too daunting, what would be the point? Astarion would still be gone. Can’t they just rest?

It would take their friends to pull them out of it

I imagine Lae’zel and Shadowheart specifically would lay into them about just giving up. What would Astarion say if he saw them like this?

Tag can well imagine, they can all but hear his voice in their ear

“And you call me dramatic,” he tells them. “Flattering as it is to know you miss me, there's still work to be done. Now get up.”

They want to ignore the words, but they have their own survival instincts to contend with

It’s a slow process

The first several months it’s an ordeal just to eat, but they do

Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, they all take turns checking in, making sure they’re okay

Gale maybe even has them come to stay in Waterdeep just to keep a better eye on them and keep them away from the memories associated with Baldur’s Gate

It’s a kind gesture and one that slowly starts to pay off

They're able to watch a sunrise again without the urge to weep

They sometimes come in to talk during Gale's lectures, recounting some of their exploits with a smile

They never fully recover, their music isn’t quite as lively, there seems to be a spark missing behind their eyes, but they find a way to survive

They have their friends and find solace in knowing they’re not alone

Eventually they go on the road again, taking in every sight and sound, imaging Astarion seeing it with them

They never fall in love again, they knew that they never would and don’t try to force it

Still, they live; it’s brutal work, but they can’t stop now

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying of Old Age Edition)

Couple different options with this one

I picture Ace!Tav as human, so Astarion outliving them was part of the deal when they got together

All the same Ace!Tav dying of old age vs. dying suddenly and horribly, are going to spark two very different reactions

If they die of old age, Astarion has a much longer time to prepare

There's no hiding getting old, even if Astarion makes jokes about them being with a man four or three times their age

Tav is there to help him through it, even as they're lying on their death bed with him beside them the entire time

They don't want him to try and bring them back; they told him as much

They want him to keep going, to keep living, to find love again after they're gone

Astarion doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to think about them being gone even when they both know it's coming

One human life time wasn't nearly enough, he wants more, he always wants more

But the end does come and when Tav finally slips away, all he can do is weep

He wouldn't be alone though, he has friends, strange as it might have once been to admit

Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel would all find their own way to help him as they too grieve the loss of their friend

He's not the easiest to deal with, he lashes out, he argues, he pushes, he finds himself crying at unexpected moments and mortified at himself for doing so

He wishes he could talk to Tav about all these emotions drowning him and ends up curled up on the floor all over again

But somebody is there to help him back up again

He can’t stay in their home anymore, too many memories bombard him every waking moment

Gale offers for him to come to Waterdeep for a time, but Astarion refuses

He needs to get out, go somewhere far away, someplace he’s never been before

So, one day, he packs a bag and just starts walking

The only thing of Tav’s he takes is a that damned violin, they did try so very hard to teach him how to play, but he always was a better audience

Still he can’t bring himself to leave it behind

He doesn’t know where he’s going or what he’s even doing, but he keeps going anyway

One of the nights, months into his travels, a bard plays at the inn where he's staying

He recognizes the melody, one of Tav's compositions

He had finally convinced Tav to write down some of their music, and even publish a few; this one isn't one of them

The bard plays it differently, emphasizing different words and finding a new meaning while still keeping the integrity of the song

He can all but hear Tav’s contemplative approval as they grin in that “I told you so” sort of way

The best ones live in memory after all

The bard is good, reminding him of Tav in so many different ways

He's not sure what exactly possess him to do it, but he offers them the violin, telling them that it's been a long time since he saw somebody play it properly, maybe they'd like a go

Gods do they play it,

Light and music flow from the instrument, evoking the same vivid display Tav had show him all those years ago

Astarion then leaves without a word, leaving the violin behind for the bard to take

He finally understands what Tav tried to explain to him, how much of themselves they put into their music and how even as the interpretations may change it’s still them

So, he keeps going, keeping their memory alive in what ways he can, mostly as an anonymous patron to promising young bards; he’s always been a better audience anyway

Years later he even meets that first bard, the one he gifted the violin; they turned to be a great performer and was thankful to finally track down the man who put them on that path

They form a true friendship, one that lasts years and allows Astarion to know he can form new relationships

Slowly, Tav's death doesn’t hurt the way it used to

They’ll never fully leave his heart; they were his first in so many ways

It would take him years, possibly even centuries to finally fulfill that final promise to love again, but he does

He’s a survivor by nature, but Gods does it feel good to live

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying Suddenly and Horribly Edition)

This can only end in blood

They're in a middle of a battle, something bigger and worse than they anticipated

Both are skilled in their own way, but they each know their strength lies in stealth and surprise, neither of which they have facing this threat

Astarion was sure they were safe, he was watching their back and vice versa as they had for years

He doesn't see exactly what happens, all he knows is one moment his love was standing in front of him and the next, they're pulp on the floor

Air leaves his lungs, the rest of the world fades as all that exist is their blood in his nose and their desecrated body and then everything goes red

He uses everything at his disposal, knives, nails, teeth; more blood fills the air, his body is covered in it to the point he can't even grip his daggers and just uses his teeth

He doesn't stop until the only thing breathing in the room is him

He then goes to Tav's body, and wraps what's left of it in any cloth he can find; he's not leaving them here, there has to be a way to fix it, to bring them back

He finds a place he can keep them, using what magic he can to preserve the remains of their body until he can find a better solution

He reaches out to any contact he has begging for help, surely their friends would come to their aid

What he gets is all but useless, no answers, no solutions, nothing but empty apologies and condolences

They even have the audacity to them him to let Tav go

They don't understand, they never could

After everything he'd been through, Tav was the first real happiness he found; 200 years of torture and just six months with them was enough to counterweight all that misery

He'd had years since then, and now they were just gone

How could anyone expect him to let that go, not when he had expected a life time with them

Their time together was already limited, he would not be cheated into giving up more; the world didn't get to do that to him

He curses his so called friends, burying himself in necromancy and tomes trying to find a solution

There may still be a way, a much darker way, one that would require sacrifice, but it would be worth it whatever the price

He knew that about himself the moment he started to fall for Tav, there was no telling what things he'd be willing to do, all for them

There is a part of him that hesitates, a little voice inside his head telling him to stop, that he can be better

It's the same voice that told him not to ascend, one he curses just as deeply as the rest of them

If he had ascended none of this would have happened; he would have been able to keep Tav safe, he could have made it so not even time could touch them

He had hesitated then, but he won't now

He'll find a way to bring them back and make sure they never leave him again

[1000punks]

bonding. ⁰⁷//sparring

bonding. //masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. praise/degradation. breathplay. rough, possessive sex. d/s. there's also plot points, i promise.

word count: 7,734

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡ header credit: MANTIS. // @astarionposting

Festé rolled to their back, blinking their eyes open and stretching their arms overhead, sprawling out. They startled when they saw Astarion's face hovering inches from their own. "Gods in the Hells!" they yelped, covering their face.

"I…" Astarion whispered, trailing off. Festé opened their eyes to see his forehead creased with worry.

"What is it, my love? You scared me." The tiefling rubbed the sleep from their eyes, reaching up to palm at his forehead. "What's wrong?"

"This morning, you're… Are you angry with me? How much did you hear?" The elf squeezed his eyes shut, seeming to be bracing himself.

"What? Not at all, my love," Festé moved their hand to rest against his cheek, and he flinched away. They rolled to their side, dropping their hand to rest on his on top of the blankets. "I heard you and Gale discussing… something. What I could discern," they stroked over the back of his hand slowly, "Is that he suggested we find another vampire to bite me, and then kill them. Like we did…" Festé paused, watching Astarion's face crumple. He slowly lowered his head to rest on his arms on the mattress, shaking it as he moved. "Like we did once before," they finished. A deafening silence descended over the bedroom. Festé let it go on for several moments before speaking again. "I'm not angry about your reaction, love. I just want to know why you were so upset." They leaned up on their elbow, resting their free hand on his arm.

"There are… many reasons, darling." His tone was even, but icy, and he lifted his head so that he could look into his imp's eyes. "Not the least of which is that allowing you to be bitten by another vampire would put your very life at risk," he spat. Festé raised an eyebrow, grimacing as Astarion continued. "I personally cannot fathom you in harm's way like that; not to mention, it could mean years of abuse for you, like I had to endure, until you could break free. Gale, the idiot, seems to think that with the right plan, we could avoid all of that, but he… he…" he let out a snarl of frustration. "He doesn't understand."

"I'm sure that Gale thinks those are calculated risks to take, my love. He's not a stupid man-" Festé started.

"Don't you dare take his side, Festé!" Astarion growled, and he moved instantaneously, gripping their wrist as he straddled their hips, pinning them halfway under his body. He was above them, his eyes dark with fury.

"Listen to me, my love." Festé was taken aback with the absence of his favourite pet name for them, and they shot him a rare scowl. "Listen, please. I trust Gale to think that we're capable of carrying out such a task, but did either of you consider what I want?" They studied the elf's face. His voice was unsure as he repeated their question.

"What you want?" He murmured, squinting at them.

"Yes, what I want. Did you ask?" They huffed, struggling to sit up, one hand moving to Astarion's chest to push him back slightly.

"You don't want this, you-"

"That's right, I don't." Festé spat, their fingers coming to rest firmly on his lips. "But you wouldn't have known that, because neither of you bothered to ask me. You assumed, both of you. I wasn't angry then, but I am now," they sighed harshly, pinching the bridge of their nose.

"You d… What?" The elf was incredulous. He sat back, disarmed. "You don't… want that? Isn't that what every mortal wants?" he hissed.

"You didn't, Star. You said you had no choice in the matter." They looked up at him, their expression grim. "I do, and while I would give my life to spend forever with you, I don't think the risk is worth the potential reward."

"You… You don't?" The elf whispered, casting his eyes downwards.

"You're right, what if someone got hurt in the process? What if one of our friends got hurt? What if, gods forbid, you got hurt, or killed? It's selfish, but the rest of my short life with you, like this," they reached to stroke over his cheek, "Where I can give you… all of me? I'd rather that than potentially spending eternity with regrets, or deaths weighing on my conscience." They smiled sadly, and Astarion frowned in return. "If I get a choice, then all I want is you, safe and sound."

"You want the same thing as I do." It wasn't a question. Astarion closed his eyes, and Festé was close enough to count his eyelashes. "You want to protect me; and I want to protect you," he sighed, and he sounded relieved.

"Yes, but if you would like to fight about it some more, we can go outside and settle it with a duel." Festé whispered back.

"Don't be funny, darling," he said, pressing his forehead to theirs.

"I'm serious," they stated, but they chuckled softly, reaching up to pet through his hair slowly. Astarion leaned to their touch, looking into their eyes. His were a deep scarlet.

"I'm much too thirsty not to seriously hurt you, darling," his voice had a ragged edge to it. The elf reached up, closing his fingers around their forearm, pulling it down to brush his nose over their wrist, humming. "And… I owe you an apology, first," he whispered. "I shouldn't have assumed your feelings; and I should have asked your thoughts on the matter." He tilted his head up, his expression pained. "I'm sorry, darling."

"I forgive you, my love. Thank you for your apology. I'm sorry for raising my voice at you." The elf looked surprised for a moment, though his expression softened as their fingers brushed over their cheek. Astarion pressed his lips to their skin, this time a question. Festé's pulse thrummed in response, and they nodded. He sank his fangs into their wrist, and they watched in awe; it was the very first time he had done so, and they clearly saw pure bliss unfold over his features. The tiefling's lips parted as they studied their elf, stunned by how tender his face became as he drank. His long fingers curled loosely around their wrist, fingernails pressing half-moons into their rosy skin, and his eyes fell closed. Festé's breathing slowed, relaxing with him, and they murmured, "Do I really taste that good, my love?"

Astarion opened his eyes at the sound of their voice, sighing through his nose and blinking slowly in response. Regardless of the pleasure that was apparent on his face, he pulled back, cleaning the imp's wound with soft flicks of his tongue. He pushed them to their back quickly but smoothly, pressing his lips to theirs in a messy kiss. A thrill twisted in the tiefling's belly when he licked into their mouth, as he had done hundreds of times before. The coppery taste of their own blood washed over their tongue. This time, however, they studied the flavour, attempting to think like a vampire. He kissed them breathless, and left his imp panting softly on the bed as he sat up.

"Your blood," he whispered, "Tastes smoky, with the faintest note of sweetness. And musky, rich; it reminds me of feasting on the finest cuts of game, in my old life. It's also got… a certain spiciness, I think." He looked sheepish as he trailed off, meeting Festé's gaze. They had sat up and were resting back on their elbows, smiling up at him.

"You've just implied that I taste gamey, my love," Festé contained their laughter, attempting to keep their features composed.

"Well…" Astarion said softly, "I suppose it fits, with your career choices and all, doesn't it?" He smirked, swiping a stray drop of blood from the corner of his lips before sucking it off of his thumb. "The point is… I like it. I think it's perfect."

"Would it be upsetting to you if I were to become a vampire, then? If I smelled and tasted differently than I do now?" The tiefling pushed the duvet down, shifting to get out of bed, and the elf followed suit.

"It would be a drawback, if I'm being honest." Astarion hesitated, reaching down to collect his shirt from the floor. "I don't want to seem shallow, but I love you just as you are. Warm…" he pressed close to them when he had straightened up, and he hummed appreciatively. "Warm, and soft," he ghosted his hand under their shirt and over their stomach. "And alive. Not cold, hard, and dead like yours truly," he chuckled airily. Festé smiled once more as he wrapped his arm around their waist. "But, darling… I'm so grateful that you've never made me feel guilty for what I am," he tilted his head. "It makes accepting myself so much easier."

Festé leaned up to kiss Astarion's cheek. "You're you, my love," they said matter-of-factly, "And I wouldn't change a thing."

He nuzzled their cheek before pulling away slightly, squinting. "Mhn, nothing besides your clothes, my dear. We have company." He pecked their forehead before breaking away, tugging his shirt on as he made for the front door. Festé heard a knock in the next moment, pulling their breeches on and following their elf into the living room as they straightened their own shirt. Astarion had opened the door to Gale and Shadowheart once again. "Well hello," he drawled, "Do come in, we were just getting up."

"I suppose you're lucky we were running a little late, Astarion, otherwise you would be little more than a pile of ash right now." Shadowheart said dryly, stepping inside with Gale in tow. "We can't stay very long, but we wanted to share some news before heading home."

"Do tell, darling," Astarion murmured, gesturing vaguely toward the couch before catching Festé in his arms when they came close. Gale waved one hand at the pale elf.

"Unfortunately, we do have to make this rather quick. So-"

"So I had better talk," Shadowheart quipped, continuing, "We have an interesting bit of intelligence from Jaheira. She went to that meeting last night with Nine-Fingers, and called on us this afternoon to share what she had heard." The cleric looked between the couple pointedly. "Would you like to guess what kind of ring it was that Minsc tried to steal?" she asked; and when the two exchanged a look with one another and shrugged, she hissed, "It was the ring of the Sunwalker."

"What does that mean?" Festé murmured, "Does that mean what I think it-"

"You're joking," Astarion scoffed. "That's a little too convenient, isn't it?" He shifted his weight uncomfortably behind his imp, and they turned halfway to glimpse his expression, which was, like the night before, purposefully blank.

"Apparently not," Gale interjected, wagging a finger at the pale elf and smirking widely. "Apparently Minsc's dumb luck knows no bounds. Regardless," he held up both hands, "We know that it exists now, and that Nine-Fingers was planning to sell it to a client; somewhere in Amn. More than likely, to a high-ranking vampire, or someone to that effect."

"For how much?" Festé asked, their mouth falling open as they finally pieced it together.

"An immeasurable price, surely." Astarion sounded defeated.

"Wait - All that Nine-Fingers revealed to Jaheira was that the client wanted to go into hiding. I have a theory, but no time to tell what it is." Gale cast a glance at Shadowheart, who was nodding and rotating her hand in a slow circle, encouraging the wizard to get to the point. "Right, the thing is, we can all band together to potentially intercept that very special cargo, by heist or by feist. If my research is correct, then it would allow Astarion to enjoy the sun for short periods of time without being hurt." He finished, smiling widely. "Jaheira will be sending correspondence of the where and when, as it were."

"So, if I'm to understand correctly, I'm to risk my life intercepting a package to another vampire lord, if I ever want to walk in the sun again? It sounds invigorating, please do sign me up," Astarion said sardonically.

"It's information, and the final choice is up to the two of you once you've had the chance to discuss and read over these." Shadowheart plucked a small leather-bound book from Gale's travelling-satchel and held it out. "They're research notes, and the theory he alluded to." Festé took the journal, beaming.

"We'll discuss it," they promised. "And we'll write you when we have a decision." Astarion sighed from behind the imp, and they could only assume he was rolling his eyes as well.

"In that case, we had better get going!" Gale offered a firm nod, and his hand for each of them to shake. Festé and Shadowheart hugged one another tightly, and moments later the wizard and the cleric were hurrying back up the street.

"I think we could pull this off, my love," Festé remarked, closing the door and locking it, before facing their elf once more.

"Don't start, darling-" Astarion started, but Festé rushed him and pressed a kiss to his lips. He hummed, and pulled them close against himself, winding his arms tightly around their waist. The tiefling felt him relax gradually as he dropped his forehead to their shoulder. "I'll consider it after we go through Gale's notes, my dearest. However, the idea of toppling another vampire, for fun?" He looked up, a devious smirk on his face. "Tempting, darling."

"Isn't it?" Festé returned the smirk. "I'm thinking, if the client has already paid the Guild, we could plant a decoy, and take the real ring for you. But, I would wager that Gale has something up his sleeve in that regard." They paused for several moments. "You know what that means though, Star?"

"Hmm?" The elf raised his eyebrows.

"That means we do need to train. I've gone a little soft in the past few months, and I can tell… you're stronger somehow. We should explore that strength. I need practice evading a vampire." They chuckled.

"Fine, darling. But I won't go easy on you. The tadpole suppressed a lot." He winked and began to pull them upstairs, leading them to the other spare room, where the two had been storing their armour for several months. The couple exchanged excited glances with one another as they got dressed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · "Up." Astarion commanded, "Again, darling." He raised the rapier that he had chosen to practice with, getting into ready position, and watched the tiefling struggle to their feet from the pile of snow. They laughed, standing and shaking out their shoulders, bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet. Astarion seemed to dematerialize as he slipped into the shadows once more, taking advantage of the dim lamplight in the garden. Festé concentrated, tracking his movements easily this time, and swung their shortsword backhanded when the elf reappeared on their left side. He parried easily, and when he was distracted, they sank a blow with their own rapier, arcing their body in a half-backbend. It glanced off of Astarion's shoulder when he threw it back.

"Good, love. Don't get caught unawares. You're a natural hunter. Keep going." He growled his encouragement softly, dodging and parrying each of their attacks with ease before drawing his rapier in a circle with the flick of his wrist, thrusting it where their chest had been seconds before. Festé took advantage of the opening in his defence, throwing their shoulder into his chest and knocking him down into the snow with a grunt. They swung low with the shortsword, touching it to Astarion's neck with a satisfied smirk.

"Perfect, darling," he praised. "But you wouldn't dare hesitate like this with another spawn. You'd cut their head off." He let out a chuckle, reaching up to grip their wrist and yanking them down into the snow with him before straddling their hips. The elf pointed the rapier at the tiefling's neck, angling it down and keeping the hilt roughly level with his chin. "Otherwise, they'll have you on your back in no time at all, won't they?" His voice was velvety and dangerous. Festé chuckled softly, tossing the shortsword aside carelessly.

"Ardē!" They hissed, pressing their fingertips to their elf's stomach, causing him to snarl and jump up, and they scrambled to their feet after him. "Don't worry, my love, I never fight cleanly against unfamiliar spawn."

"You damned imp," Astarion laughed loudly, grabbing a fistful of snow and spreading it across the chainmail he wore. "That was good, keep using your instincts like that. Now," he raised the rapier again, and Festé mirrored him. He stepped forward, feinting to the right, but the tiefling caught the second surprise thrust to their left thigh with a sharp clang of metal on metal, pushing the elf's weapon to the side and knocking him off-balance. They gripped his wrist with their free hand and twisted it, wrenching the sword from his hand with some effort. He caught himself in the next instant, locking his arms around his imp from behind. Astarion leaned down and pressed his lips to their neck. "Don't forget, darling, vampires will always have one more weapon than you do," he growled in their ear as they struggled in his arms. "One bite is all it takes…" he hissed, running his tongue over their exposed skin.

"You damned elf," Festé joked, shivering involuntarily. They lowered the swords slowly, letting Astarion press his fangs to their neck. "I'll submit this time, fiend."

"'Fiend'? Oh, I do like that, pet. It makes me sound like a mysterious stranger that came upon you in the night," Astarion teased, whirling them around and brushing his lips over theirs.

"I'm sure you would love that, hmm? To come upon me in the night?" Festé chuckled darkly, the elf joining in soon after.

"Shall we call it, then? And go warm each other up?" He released them, bending to pick their shortsword out of the snow. "We'll keep this up, though, mm? I find it exhilarating to spar with you, one-on-one."

The two stumbled into the house together, laughing; and the tiefling paused at the stove to light it and put the kettle on before following Astarion upstairs to undress. They caught sight of him peeling his armour off and prodding gently at the five small burns on his stomach. "Darling, you've seared your damned fingerprints into my skin." He looked up, scowling at them. "It's as if I don't have quite enough scars already, hm?"

Festé frowned, crossing the room and placing their palm against Astarion's stomach. "Oh, no. I'm sorry, my love. Hold still…" They covered the offending flesh fully with their hand, whispering, "Te curo." The elf looked on as his imp held their breath, and both watched the angry marks fade rapidly. Festé let out a sigh of relief, looking up into their elf's eyes and repeating, "I'm sorry, my love." He glanced at the creases of worry on their forehead, and down between them at his stomach, his scowl melting easily.

"Oh… I can't be angry with you, not when you pout like that," he sighed, giving them a crooked smile and ruffling their hair, pausing to trace his fingers over their neck. "Especially not when I've marked you so thoroughly; just look at all of these…" he tutted in mock disapproval, and Festé offered a sheepish smirk in return.

"There's nothing I enjoy more, my love," they stepped back, moving to take off the heavy half-plate with a soft grunt before refastening it around one of Astarion's many spare mannequins.

"Do you really mean that, darling?" his tone was sincere this time, and Festé turned to face him once more. "You don't mind all of the…" he gestured vaguely to their neck and shoulders, which bore numerous fading impressions of the elf's fangs, "The evidence?" he finished, somewhat dramatically. His question hung in the air for a moment as he finished re-lacing his shirt and adjusting it.

"Of course, I mean it. I love bearing evidence that you love me best. I do rather like marks of passion," they mused. "Why, don't they look nice on me?" The tiefling smirked widely as they passed them, making their way back down to the kitchen to silence the hissing kettle. Astarion stalked them closely, examining the back of their neck as well. The shirt they wore was cut low across the shoulders and cropped above the waist, exposing much of their rosy skin. The pale elf hummed as he watched them bend to pour the water into two mugs, noting the way the fabric slid further down their shoulder when they moved.

"They do, darling. I suppose that means I'll have to keep leaving them on you, won't I?" His tongue darted out to wet his lips, studying the way Festé's hair slipped over their shoulder in a dark curtain. They turned halfway to look at him, and he sighed contentedly.

"If you're going to keep looking at me like that, should I bother with the tea?" They laughed loudly when Astarion looked conflicted and shook his head, and set the kettle back down on the stove. He strode fluidly into the kitchen, gathering Festé up in his arms and wrapping their legs easily around his waist, not missing the opportunity to grope their ass. The stunt earned him a bite on his shoulder, and he chuckled lightly.

"You're so ferocious, darling," his voice was soft against their ear as he carried his imp back to the bedroom. "I find my very knees trembling in your presence." The elf sat firmly on the edge of the bed, and pulled his imp closely against him. They made another attempt to bite his shoulder, and he allowed it. Festé pressed their hips to his in a slow roll when he smoothed his hands up their back, dipping them under the hem of the tiefling's loose shirt. Their lips sought his neck, kissing messily over his skin before finding the hollow behind his ear, sucking at it firmly. They pulled back with a slow exhale, examining his skin and whispering, "No bruising."

Astarion snorted. "No blood, darling," he murmured, pressing his nails firmly into their back as they bit him once more, tilting his head back.

"Mn… won't stop me from trying," their voice was muffled, their hands pulling at his shirt as they nibbled along his collarbone. Astarion's hands wandered down to their hips, shifting Festé in his lap and pressing his thigh between their legs.

"Pathetic," he teased, smirking when they paused to scowl up at him. In less than a heartbeat, he had closed one hand around their jaw, jerking their chin up and pressing his own firm bite to his imp's neck. They moaned out softly in pain, and he hissed against their ear, "Leave the biting to the professional, darling." The tiefling began to struggle, pressing their hands to the elf's shoulders in an attempt to pull away, but Astarion locked his arm around their waist firmly, moving his hand from their jaw into their hair and wrenching their head back. Festé shivered as they felt the soft press of his tongue on their skin, contrasting with the threatening press of his fangs in the next moment. Astarion was content to tease them, until…

"Please…" they whispered, shifting their weight on his thigh.

"Mm… please what, darling?" he spoke nonchalantly, removing his hand from their waist to rest on their shoulder, tugging the fabric of Festé's shirt aside slowly. He smirked as he watched them squirm and glance down. Astarion dipped his fingers into their shirt, tracing them slowly down their arm, his smirk growing wider as he felt their pulse quicken under his fingertips.

"Touch me," they breathed, shrugging to try to press more firmly against the elf's hand, lifting their hips from his thigh at the same time.

"But I am, darling," he whispered innocently, tilting his head at them with a pout. His grip tightened marginally in their hair.

Festé seemed to remember their hands when he spoke, wrenching his from their shoulder and guiding it up under their shirt with a soft huff. "Touch me here," they hissed, pressing his hand over their chest. Astarion merely teased over their sternum with his fingernails, chuckling softly at their frustrated sigh. "Please, Star…"

"Use your words, darling," he murmured, tapping their chest with two fingers. "Tell me exactly what you want me to do, and where you want me to touch you." Festé's face flushed, but they threw themself forward against the elf's chest with such sudden vigour, it very nearly caught Astarion off-guard. He chuckled loudly at their relatively feeble attempt to pin him on his back, and used the tiefling's momentum to roll them over on the mattress. His hand came down to pin them by their throat, and he tutted as he kneeled over them, his legs framing their hips.

"Star…!" they gasped, struggling once again under their elf's grip.

"I said, use your words. If it's a fight you want, then you'll get one," he spoke in that velvety, dangerous tone that was altogether irresistible whenever it graced Festé's ears. They huffed out a breath, raising one hand to graze the elf's groin; and he pressed against their palm, shifting his weight to squeeze their throat more firmly before letting up again. The imp kept their palm against him, feeling the hard line of his length beneath the fabric of his trousers. Astarion allowed it for a moment, before closing his fingers around Festé's wrist and trapping it against the mattress above their head.

"I want…" they gritted out, arching their back below him, "You. I don't want to be able to walk tomorrow, because I want you to f…"

"Go on, darling. You're doing so well." Astarion gave their throat a much more gentle squeeze of encouragement, and he smiled, albeit with his fangs on display. He entertained himself for a moment as he raked his gaze over their body, watching the fabric of their shirt ride up and expose their chest to him.

"I want you to fuck me," they whispered, voice faltering as they traced the elf's hungry gaze. The imp averted their eyes in embarrassment as they noted his gaze fixated on their chest. Their words were barely audible when they continued. "Rough… I need to feel you claim me."

"Finally, darling." Astarion removed his hand from their throat, resting it beside their head as he leaned down. "I love hearing such filthy words from your lips, it's music to my pointy ears," he breathed hotly against their ear, close enough to feel it twitch softly from the attention. "Gods, it's so easy to fluster you, it's almost criminal," he chuckled softly, reaching down and pushing their shirt up fully, dipping his head to kiss slowly over their chest and noting the significant effect it had on their heart rate.

"You know what they say about… mmf, karma, Star…" the tiefling spoke between soft gasps as their elf's lips brushed over their nipple, his hand moving to cup their breast as he licked over it messily.

"We're only just getting started, and you're already a mess, pet. I would worry less about karma, and more about what I'm going to do to you." Astarion's tongue circled their nipple slowly before he continued. "I have to be sure that the next time we have friends over, you picture this every time my hand rests on your thigh under the table."

"That's what you were picturing when you-" Festé whispered, interrupting themself with a low groan as the pale elf shoved his thigh between theirs once again, sucking their nipple firmly into his mouth. He let off with a pop of his lips and looked up at them, his tongue moving slowly over one of his fangs.

"All of this and more, darling. You have no idea."

"Show me, then," Festé pleaded, reaching up and tangling their fingers in their elf's curls, whimpering as they ground their hips slowly.

"Ah-ah. Show me how desperate you are by ruining these, little love," he countered, trailing his hand down to the waistband of Festé's underwear and tugging at them with one finger, letting them snap against their hip. Festé pulled his hair roughly, and Astarion leaned up and brushed his lips over theirs chastely. The tiefling closed the distance, kissing him forcefully as they obeyed his command, rutting their hips against his thigh. He tightened his grip on their wrist instinctively, and the tiefling moaned into his mouth as his free hand wandered back to their chest to cup their breast once more. The elf pinched their nipple firmly, rolling it between his finger and thumb. Festé gasped when the pleasure of the act bordered on pain.

"I'm…" they panted when they broke the kiss, burying their face into their elf's neck as they kept their hips moving, shuddering as the tight heat in their belly began to spread, coursing down their legs and through their chest. "I…"

"I know, you poor little thing. It really doesn't take much to push you over the edge, now, does it?" Astarion purred into his imp's ear, and they whimpered as he pulled off their nipple roughly. He dragged his fingernails down the length of Festé's stomach, teasing them through the fabric of their panties. "Now, why don't you come for me, you pathetic little imp…" his voice was gravelly as he bit slowly down their neck, threatening to break skin as he pressed his fangs directly against their pulse point. "Mn… so I can show you how easily dominated you are by me…" he pressed the heel of his palm to their stomach, massaging just below Festé's navel, and they broke under his touch, writhing as their inner muscles clenched around nothing. Astarion felt them twitching against his thigh, a chuckle coming from deep within his chest. He rested his forehead against the tiefling's, slipping his hand between their thighs and groping them through the now-soaked fabric with a pleasured hum. Festé squirmed when he pinched the waistband of their panties in two fingers and pulled the fabric taut against them.

Astarion sat up suddenly, pushing the tiefling's thighs apart with an air of urgency, and he murmured, "Show me, darling." He did not smile, instead slapping the inside of their left thigh impatiently when Festé struggled to move. They shakily hooked their thumbs in their waistband, shimmying out of their underwear and depositing them in the elf's outstretched hand. They shivered as Astarion finally shot them an approving smirk. "Show me," he repeated, crossing his arms and arching an eyebrow. The imp swallowed and spread their legs hesitantly, a blush rising up their neck as they glanced down at his hand, balled into a tight fist around their underwear. One of their hands travelled down, and they met his eyes, teasing their fingers through their own mess before spreading themself open. Astarion nodded, smoothing his free hand along the inside of their thigh and gripping it firmly. "Good pet. It's as if you read my mind." He reached up, dragging his thumb over their bottom lip. "Wouldn't you agree that you would look so very precious with a gag in your mouth while I take my pleasure in your body?" Festé swallowed deeply, frozen for an instant before nodding. "Open for me," the elf whispered, tapping their chin with his thumb.

Festé lifted their head with great effort, parting their lips and allowing Astarion to push the ruined fabric as deep into their mouth as they could handle. They shivered again as he ghosted his hand down their throat, and lowered their head to the mattress once more. They tried to reach for the elf's trousers, but his hands gripped their wrists instantaneously, pinning them over the tiefling's head as he pressed his weight against them, grinding slowly against their soaked cunt.

"Not yet," he hissed softly, pressing his thigh deftly under one of their own and moving it up the mattress, forcing them to spread their legs even more. "I want to take all of the pleasures of your body, pet. Be good for me." Astarion chuckled darkly against their neck, and the imp squirmed once underneath him, giving him all the invitation he needed. He moved painstakingly, pressing his fangs into their neck in the most agonizingly pleasurable way. Festé began to shake involuntarily under his body, and the elf rested his full weight on top of them, his slow grinds eventually falling in rhythm with the slow sucks. Festé let every stray whimper rip from their throat, muffled only slightly from the gag. Astarion brought them to the very edge, their vision starting to shimmer and blur along the edges.

Festé groaned loudly through the gag, which was growing steadily more soaked by the second; and the elf pulled away, leaving their neck a bloody mess as he sat up with a harsh sigh. Astarion's eyebrows furrowed with effort as he unlaced his trousers and pushed them off, not bothering with his shirt. The tiefling looked up at him as he kneeled between their legs, needing only to pat his thigh once before they struggled to sit up. He circled them in his arms and pulled them the rest of the way, guiding their hips up before pushing them firmly to his lap. "Now that you're weakened and pliant for me, darling…" he purred, voice rough with need, "I think it's only fair that you're further reminded who you belong to." He brushed their hair back tenderly with one hand, shooting them a bloodstained smile. "Hasn't it been so long? By now, you've probably forgotten how I feel inside you, hmm?"

They nodded weakly, playing along and rolling their hips slowly, their clit kissing his length lightly as they moved. The imp kneeled up as Astarion pulled them closer, and he slid into them in one fluid movement, pushing past the tight ring of muscles as he forced them back down into his lap. Festé couldn't hold back a howl as the pain momentarily overwhelmed them, chest heaving as they panted through their nose. Without letting them adjust, Astarion gripped their hips tightly and moaned appreciatively against their ear as he made them move. The tiefling locked their arms around his neck, and he chuckled softly, nipping at their earlobe as they found leverage, pushing up on their knees.

"Go on, darling. I've got you. Let me…" he reached up, plucking the gag from their mouth and tossing their underwear aside for the moment. "Let me hear you." His hands found their ass, and his touch was momentarily tender before giving them a firm smack. Festé twitched in his lap, and he sighed as he felt the repurcussive squeeze around his length, groping them firmly and steadying their now-jerky movements as they rode him. "Let me hear you," he repeated, growling the command against their neck. His imp trembled in his arms, letting out a shaky moan when he held them down firmly in his lap, and he smirked when they tried their best to stifle it. They choked off into silent surprise as he ground his hips up slowly, his grip somehow tightening further as he wrapped one arm over their back, molding their body to his. Astarion set a punishing rhythm with his hips in the next instant, leaving Festé gasping for breath and pressing their fingertips into his back.

"H…hurts, Star…" they managed, spreading their thighs and sinking down on him further, and he slowed only slightly as he pulled back to look at them, moving one hand to catch their jaw as he studied the tiefling's face. Their mouth hung open, eyes half-lidded, and a sheen of sweat was present on their forehead. They let out a snarling moan as he pressed into them deeply, his tip rubbing against their inner wall.

"Do you want to stop, my pet?" Astarion's expression was serious but composed. "Or would you have me continue to ruin you?" He finished in a husky whisper. The tiefling shook their head to the first question, and nodded to the second, tilting their head so that the pale elf was cupping their cheek as they met his eyes. "You like how much it hurts?" Another nod, followed by an incomprehensible moan. He stroked his thumb along their cheek reassuringly. "Good, darling. I'm not nearly finished with you."

He gripped their cheeks, moving his free hand to the small of their back to keep them pressed against him, his thrusts into them becoming languid and drawn out, but still firm. The head of his cock struck their inner wall every second or third thrust. Festé let slip a tortured moan, tears building in their eyes when they gripped Astarion's shoulders firmly. The tiefling blinked them away, sending them trickling down their cheeks; and they gave in to the heat building again in their abdomen, feeling it twist once again behind their navel as the elf's calculated movements brought them to their edge once more. He smirked, thumbing away the tears on their cheeks before tapping it once against their lips.

"Star, can I…" They tilted their body forward, resting more of their weight against his chest. He removed his hand from their back, resting it on the bed behind him as he leaned back. Astarion's answer was clear in his action, as he moved his other hand from their cheek to grip the hair at the nape of their neck, pulling them forward slowly. Festé sighed in relief, grinding down slowly into his lap, their legs starting to twitch as they framed his own. Astarion pulled their hair, and they were close enough to brush his lips over theirs; but he did not kiss them, instead favouring the tension and heat that was building as Festé moved. His chest rose as he inhaled their scent, leaning closer. Their end came as a chorus of sobs and muffled moans as they pressed their face into his neck in return. Astarion was gracious, allowing them to ride it out, clawing down their back before smoothing his hand down to the base of their tail.

"Very good, darling," his praise was a muted purr, "I want you to capture this very moment in your mind, and I would like you to hold it dearly whenever someone else dares to rake their eyes or hands over you in public…" he chuckled fiendishly, pushing Festé easily to their back, whose chest was heaving soft sobs as he blanketed them with his body. He drew their thighs around his waist, continuing in a growl against their ear, "I want you to think of me, laying the most carnal claim on your body and soul; and how you sob and beg for it." Festé hiccuped softly and nodded, turning their head to the side and panting against their elf's cheek, their fingers kneading gently down his back. Astarion's arms came to cradle them as he brushed his nose over theirs, his eyes boring deeply into theirs as he whispered, "And I want you to think about how eagerly and completely your body accepts my own. Every. Single. Time. We are together." He pressed his hips forward, rocking into them and punctuating each of his last words with a heavy breath. The imp stared, transfixed, into his eyes, their sobs quieting for the moment as Astarion leaned his head to the side, his pace growing gradually faster. Festé reached up, reading something more complex in his eyes, some question he was chewing over privately, and they knotted their fingertips in his curls, pulling him into a passionate, messy kiss. The pair moaned softly in unison, and Astarion's hips grew heavier, rutting firmly against the imp's before he let out an exasperated sigh through his nose, licking into their mouth as he began slamming into them roughly. He broke the kiss first.

"My dear, sweet pet…" he whispered harshly, sitting up halfway and resting his palm against their groin, thumb teasing circles over their clit as he kept up the bruising pace. "I want you to remember this part the most." He tapped his temple with two fingers on his free hand before fisting the fabric of their shirt once more, pushing it up to expose their chest. Festé blushed deeply, starting to shake again as Astarion forced their body to heat up under his icy hands once again. He smirked widely and snapped his hips forward, pushing them over the edge again easily. Leisurely, he pulled back, slipping out of their wet heat with a groan, gripping himself and rolling his hips to his hand, his length rubbing against the tiefling's overstimulated clit.

"A…Ah! Astarion…!" Festé writhed below him, the stifled sobs returning as they soaked the insides of their thighs, a tendril of shame creeping up the back of their neck as they clenched around nothing and ruined the sheets in one fell swoop. Their breath hitched, and Astarion gazed down at their exposed breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes hooded when he met theirs again. The wet sounds of his length sliding through his curled fingers only added to the ambience as he spoke.

"I want you to remember this, darling. How it feels when you're empty," he gritted out, struggling to keep his voice even. "And how it feels when you're full…" The elf pressed back into them, as before, in one fluid movement. His own breath stuttered noticeably as their muscles clenched around his length. He ground into them with obvious difficulty, moving one hand to trap theirs against the mattress, and pushing his fingers between theirs as he bent over them. He sighed out a moan of relief as his cock twitched inside them. Festé nearly choked, body taut on the bed as they felt the convulsions within, echoing them by squeezing their elf's hand and panting when Astarion rolled his hips through the aftershocks. Their body relaxed gradually as they relished in the warm slick, now leaking from the place where the pair's bodies were joined.

There were a few moments of silence, punctuated only by heavy breathing, before Astarion bent his head, pecking over his imp's chest tenderly. He paused and inhaled softly against their sternum before peppering their breasts with soft kisses, releasing their hand in favour of massaging over their hips and to knead up their sides with his knuckles. The pale elf came to lay over them once more, reaching up to wipe away the stray tears on their cheeks with his fingertips, before tilting their head up and planting a kiss in the middle of Festé's forehead. The imp let out a relieved whimper when Astarion gathered them up in his arms, helping them sit up in his lap as he straightened up. He pressed his lips again to their forehead, rocking them gently and nuzzling into their hair. Festé wrapped their arms around him, surrendering once again as he stroked over their back, the cool touch calming against their heated skin.

"You did so well, darling," Astarion murmured into their hair, giving them a tight squeeze before drawing them back by the shoulders to look them over. "It's customary, I think, to say that I'm very proud of you, isn't it?" he chuckled softly when his imp cracked a small smile. "I thought so," he whispered, drawing them close again. "You're such a sight to behold, my dearest. How do you feel?"

Festé swallowed, whispering hoarsely, "Good, my love. I feel… worn out, but excellent. I just…" they trailed off, leaning into the elf's chest and relaxing easily under his touch.

"Hmm? What is it?" Astarion asked, his palm resting for a moment on the small of their back.

"I'm starving, my love," they peeked up at him from his shoulder. "But I don't think I can get up." He shot them an amused look, slowly lifting them from his lap and pushing the tiefling to their back with a theatrical sigh. He leaned down to peck at their lips, patting their stomach.

"Such a needy mortal you are, darling. Making me fuck you into oblivion, and fetch you supper," he teased, smiling warmly all the same. "I expect you to keep the bed warm for me," his voice was soft, glancing back at them as he got to his feet swiftly, deciding to bother only with one of the linen robes next on top of the dresser as he padded out of the bedroom. Festé lay back, blinking slowly as they listened to Astarion making up a plate for them. The sounds grew distant within minutes as they dozed, rolling slowly to their side.

Some time later, they woke with a start as the elf lay his palm on their shoulder. He had set a mug of tea on the nightstand, along with a plate of bread, cheese, and cured sausage. Astarion was perched on the edge of the bed, starting to stroke through their hair and scowling playfully down at them. "Oh come now, I didn't wear you out that much, did I?" He removed his shirt and sidled into bed with them, pulling the duvet and sheets tightly around them both. The tiefling looked blearily at him as he lay on his side, raising his eyebrows and pointing to the plate absently with the leather-bound notebook he had picked up. Festé smiled while he flicked it open and began to read. They took the mug first, sipping the harsh herbal tea slowly before resting the plate between Astarion's thigh and their own. They nibbled quietly, leaning up on their elbow and starting to read Gale's notes upside down.

"You're really considering this plan?" Their eyebrows furrowed slightly when they glanced up to his face. He nodded, turning the page and smirking to himself.

"Of course. I still think we should be prepared for the worst. But, once upon a time, I made a silent promise that I would try my hand at living." He looked up at them through his eyelashes. "I do intend to keep my promise."

a/n: as always! to the folks who continue to support this fic, i honestly.. i'm in love with you at this point. but only platonically! hahaha

i told myself i wouldn't make this chapter as long but fuck my baka life, y'all can have some more filthy smut as a treat. ♡

also please, if you haven't already, go check out all of mantis' blogs (link at top). their photography is fucking iconic, and you need to follow them.