#like.. i wrote about astarion's reaction

[mercymaker]

rolling in bed thinking about halsin

his softness and his kindness. how he carries the burden so others don't have to. how he offers help and guidance to those asking. how he places others before himself.

halsin and his view on life itself. how he managed to survive the most brutal blows a life could offer. and not come out all bitter. how instead of guarding his heart, he opens it willingly.

and yet, how he carries the sorrow. the grief. the odd little fragments of survivor's guilt. how he feels the sharp edges of torn threads. the connection that was once there. the people that are now merely ghosts, only alive in his memory. his family, his mentors, all those he could not save.

i'm thinking of that halsin. and him saying

"I never thought I would outlive her."

[fandom-go-round]

bg3 companions + their reactions to finding out they knocked up fem tav? 👀 (for the ladies we can say they're trans or it's magic)

I wrote my boy first because he’s the best, can you guess who it is? Hint: He’s my first romance. No guess for you lovely requestor because you know too much LOL

Also I’m ignoring cannon endings here because we want to end up happy with babies. No angst here, begone!

Warnings: Implied Sex, Implied Sexual Situations, Pregnant Tav, Babies, Pregnancy Thing (Morning Sickness)

Astarion:

At first, he thinks that you’re joking. Vampires can’t have children after all, that’s a pretty basic fact. When you’re insistent, part of him wants to accuse you of cheating, as much as it pains him. That’s a part of him still tainted by Cazador and he muffles it as best he can. Astarion is going to insist you go to a healer together; if you’re not pregnant, something must be going on you need help with. When Shadowheart confirms you’re with child, he’s at a loss. Astarion doesn’t know what to say, truly.

After the initial shock, he goes on the hunt for anything and everything about human-vampire babies. The records are hard to find and some are locked far, far away but he finds them all. He can be very persuasive after all. It’s in one of these books that he figures out how you two made a baby; he’s going to be very careful taking your blood from now on. Speaking of, Astarion will refuse to drink from you while you pregnant, no ifs ands or buts. This is a firm boundary for him, even if you smell more and more delicious the farther along you get.

The pregnancy is hard and Astarion is afraid he’s going to lose you. The birth is especially gruesome and it’s only because of Shadowheart and Halsin that you’re alive. He wants to resent the baby for how you suffered but he can’t, they’re just too perfect. He’s afraid of getting too close, of tainting this little thing but you refuse to let him be apart. The first time he holds your child he weeps and it’s over. Astarion is always going to struggle with his emotions and feelings about being a father but never about how much he loves them. Also, he’s completely in charge of their wardrobe; you’re going to have the best-looking baby in the entire city hands down.

Gale:

Gale was always on the fence about kids. Sure they’re cute but they’re also loud and he struggles to take care of himself, let alone a little squishy creature. That doesn’t mean he’s upset when you tell him you’re pregnant, not at all. He’s just doing furious calculations in his mind and it looks like he’s crashed. Give his brain a moment to reset and he’ll give you a large grin and lean down to kiss you. Tara is the first person the two of you tell and she’s excited, vowing to be the baby’s protector. Gale loves her even more which is quite the feat. His mother is next and she immediately starts offering help. He just can’t get over how perfect his family is, it feels like a dream sometimes. 

He takes a very technical approach to your pregnancy, like everything. Gale is reading all of the baby books and using all of the tracking charts he can get his hands on. He even goes to talk to midwives, wanting an expert opinion. It’s very sweet of him but you have to remind him that all babies grow at their own pace. He just wants to be the best dad he can and for him, that means more information. It is funny to watch him change a diaper for the first time but he never backs down from a challenge! Maybe he can use magic…?

He’s a mess when you actually go into labor. Gale swore he would be with you the entire time and then passed out in the final moments. He wakes up to a healthy baby and immediately starts crying. He enjoys being a dad, especially teaching your child new things. Your kid is going to have a huge curious streak that Gale will feed with vigor. He doesn’t consciously want your kid to be a wizard but would be overjoyed to have more in common with them.

Wyll:

Wyll is over the moon, as surprised as he is. Kids are something that he’s always wanted to have eventually and with you, his favorite person? What could go wrong? Of course, he’ll hear out your concerns if you have any and can have difficult conversations around pregnancy and child birth. One benefit of being a noble is that he has resources to help; whatever you want will be yours. He’s nervous to tell his dad but once the older man starts to tear up, he knows that he’s made a good choice. Wyll wants his family to be whole and happy.

He’s a chronic hoverer, as cute and frustrating as that is. Even in the early stages of pregnancy Wyll will try to do everything for you; moving a trunk? He’s got that, don’t strain yourself. Trying to cook dinner? Let him help you love. Be firm that you can do things yourself and he’ll back off. Just know that when you turn to ask him for help he’ll be waiting in the wings to be your hero. He’s also a pro at helping you figure out cravings. Wyll won’t complain if you wake him up in the middle of the night to go get something from the kitchen. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and rocking together; you being in his arms is his favorite thing.

He’s a trooper during the birth, being there the entire time. It takes a long time and he does worry but he encourages you and is your personal cheerleader. He can’t stop smiling after the baby is born, tracing their cheeks and forehead. As much as it would be funny to say Wyll struggles with being a dad, he really doesn’t. He loves your child so much, you’re surprised he never brought up kids in the first place. He is very much the definition of doting father but don’t let that fool you, he takes no disrespect, especially towards you. You’re the ruler of the house and Wyll is your backup. He’s the perfect mix of fun and strict dad. Now if he can convince you to have others…

Karlach:

Karlach is over the moon when you find our you’re pregnant. She had noticed you felt off and encouraged you to go to the doctor. Neither of you were expecting the baby news, as silly as it sounds. That doesn’t stop her form immediately lifting you up with a loud ‘whoop!’ and spinning your around the room. She loves babies! She loves you! This is going to be great.

She insists on redoing a room just for the baby. Even if their crib is going to be in your room for the first few months, Karlach wants your kid to have their own space. She paints the walls, builds all the furniture, everything. She asks for you opinion on decorations and doesn’t do anything without checking with you first but it’s her labor of love. It’s also her project for when she gets anxious thinking about the future. What is something goes wrong with her heart? What if something is wrong with the baby? What is the birth is too much for you? All of these thoughts get washed away in making the baby’s room perfect and then she goes to talk to you.

Karlach helps as much as she can during the birth aka you kick her (lovingly) into the hall to go grab towels so she stops hovering. When she gets back the baby is almost here and there’s no time to panic, just watch with wide eyes. She thinks you’re even more of a badass for going through all that and asks to hold the baby fist. Karlach cries holding them; they’re so cute and small and they’re the perfect mix of the two of you. She’s defiantly going to be the fun mom and there will be moments where it feels like you have two kids to scold. She takes safety very seriously, however, and is the first to lecture about stranger danger. Your kid will never feel unloved or unsafe, Karlach swears it on her life. This is her family now and no one else can have them.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel struggles with the news that you’re having a baby. Partly because she never thought that she could have kids and the other part because she’s terrified about being a mom. She wasn’t raised in a traditional Faerunian way; no where on the continent can be compared to being raised Gith. She needs time to process on her own and it’ll be a few days before she comes back ready to talk. Take her concerns seriously and, if you truly want to keep the baby, she’ll raise them with you. She loves you after all.

It takes her a bit to understand all the changes your body is going through. It’s horrifying and amazing to watch your stomach swell and she loves gently cradling your bump as it grows. She doesn’t know what to do about the crying, except when someone else makes you cry. Then it’s easy: she wants to kill them. That usually makes you laugh and you’re able to talk her out of bodily harm. You do have some nice shop discounts now. Lae’el is very much your guard dog and she fulfills her position with pride.

The entire birthing process just shows Lae’zel that you’re the strongest person she knows. She’s completely impressed by how you handle everything and has a new respect for moms everywhere. She still thinks it’s gross and inefficient but badass all the same. Lae’zel is a strict mom but soft in her own way. She’s still learning to be kind to herself and the world around her. Your child will never feel the brunt of her frustration or confusion; they will, however, be able to swing a sword much too young. She beams with pride the first time your child beheads a training dummy and you know, deep deep down, that the two of them going to be trouble.

Shadowheart:

She starts to notice the signs before you do, honestly. At first it’s little things; you’re tired quicker, you’re more sensitive to certain smells. The big one is that you start to get morning sickness, frequently. Shadowheart finally sits you down after the fifth morning in a row over a bucket and checks you over. You’re pregnant all right, not doubt there. She’s going to be as surprised as you; you were both good about protection. Surprise baby!

She’s fairly neutral about kids. She never thought that she would have any, serving Shar, but now there’s a little more appeal to them. The pooping and crying she could live without but the idea of there being someone made up of the two of you? Shadowheart likes the idea more than she would admit out loud. She starts researching pregnancy healing the midwifery right away; she doesn’t have a lot of expertise with babies but she is a healer.

Shadowheart insists on delivering your baby herself. She wants to be a part of this and while you’re going to be doing the hard part, she wants to support you. If you have an issue, she will relent but has to be in the room. Your delivery is flawless and as she holds the bloody baby in her hands, she feels full. Of love and hope and excitement, all those emotions she once would have sworn off. For the first time since you’ve found out you’re pregnant, she’s excited to be a mom. She’s a strict but loving mom, teasing her kid and embarrassing them in public (just a little, like a cheek pinch). Shadowheart loves singing to your kids, something neither of you knew until now. Your house is full of love and laughter and singing, just perfect.

[lynnlovesthestars]

Hi! I’m new to your blog and have been loving all of your works!

If you’re comfortable with it, I was wondering how you think Astarion would react/feel about a virgin tav/reader who went through SA when they were younger, and wish to wait until they are both completely ready and comfortable with being intimate?

Hii, I can definitely do it, though i will merge it with another ask I received- asking to write hcs about Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

I will say, making it with the hc has been a little easier on me, usually when i write about SA i spend an insane amount of time making sure i'm comfortable and you (readers) are as well, and i hesitate a lot before publishing it *(queue up scars and blood, that I wrote on an impulse after a nightmare, and it took me a solid week before publishing it)*

ANYWAYS.

ofc I hope this will be of comfort to you, and it won't trigger you.. sometimes all we want is to find solace into our favourite characters, so i wish tonight this will in a way comfort you...

and if anyone needs to vent, or talk, feel free to hit up my dm's, they are a safe space for anyone and i'll always offer up comfort.. we don't need to struggle alone, and sometimes being heard is what we need to make a new step forward<3

As always, my little stars, excercise kindness! we don't know who's gonna pass by this, and we don't know how hard it can be for them.

This being said, I hope you'll like it!

Headcanon: Astarion learning Tav is a survivor.

Pairing: Astarion x reader. Warnings: mentions of past trauma and SA. wc: 1.7k

-He starts suspecting something about it around the time of the tiefling party. He had offered to sneak out while everyone was asleep to "enjoy yourselves", but you refused right away. He definitely picked up some involuntary movement you did that told him there was more to the "I'm not ready". You probably flinched or jerked away, usually it would go unnoticed, but Astarion could recognize the subtle harshness hidden behind your reaction.

-He doesn't want to pry into it, as much as he needed to know as much as possible about you- he says for the sake of his undead skin- he wasn't entirely confident you trusted him enough to share your past. Also he wasn't sure he could handle someone confiding in him, but he would never admit it. At the end of the day, all he knew about social interaction were faint memories of his magistrate life, or means to survival. He simply wasn't sure he could have the empathy to deal with someone else's emotions, both in good and in bad.

-When you meet the gur, and you start peering into his past, he can't hide the very obvious rock in the shoe, Cazador and his spawn life, and it is because of the gur that you actually open up to him. When he starts going deeper and deeper into Cazador's orders to him and his repulsion towards sex, you do feel like you can share something so intimate, that's been heavy on you, well since it happened. 

-The first time you mention it though, you are very blunt.

-"And honestly I don't know anything else besides disgust for it" He'd admit as he bit the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Astarion" You'd start, you wanted to hold his hand to comfort him, cause that kind of pain you knew. "I understand how you feel though. If you need—" He cut you short, anger was bubbling quickly in his stomach. You swore his face almost reddened in anger as he raised his voice.

"No, you don't" He was one sound shirt from hissing at you. "You cannot understand what it feels like" He'd sneer at you. "No one can understand what it feels like to be stripped of your bodily autonomy". In a way the harshness in his voice was like a slap to your face, cause you did in fact know. From the other, you didn't expect your brain to beeline directly towards that sealed drawer in your brain where you tried to hide the haunting memory. 

“I went through it myself, you shithead” You got up, uncaring of whatever reaction he could have in that moment, and you just left.

-He was taken aback, on different levels, both because of your sudden shift in mood, because of the blunt reveal, and deep down because he was sorry, though again he’d never admit it out loud.

-You ignored him for the rest of the day, avoiding his stare and disappearing in your tent right after you were done setting camp, and that unsettled him so much that he was weighing the possibility of apologizing cause, of course, he didn’t know.

-You skipped dinner, and even when everyone else was asleep, you didn’t come out from your tent to take your usual nightly walk. The pang of guilt was becoming more like a stab as he saw the light in your tent still burning, and the faint shadow of you moving around restless.

-He prepared a peace offering, a bowl of the leftover stew, as he had to muster the guts to apologize. 

-”Sorry, I was an asshole earlier, I brought you food” He blurted out right after he knocked on the wooden support of the tent, and he was surprised when you still let him in.

-Initially it was awkward, cause you were eating and not saying anything, but after a while he mustered up the courage to offer his shoulder to you. “If you even wish to talk” He’d say.

-You told him a bit of what happened, without going too much into detail, since you were still shaken from the memories that resurfaced.

-Since then he started to learn your boundaries: how to catch your attention without startling you, what were triggering topics for you, how you liked physical touch, and how it triggered you as well.

-In a way he becomes very protective of you, especially if you open up more often about your trauma, and you can see it.

-He made sure everyone respected your boundaries, whether it was Gale with his weave thing pulling you too close, or a stranger breathing on your neck, he was always ready to remind them of their place. 

-”Don’t you see our dear captain doesn't want to be that close?!” “Keep your hands to yourself, they don't like being grabbed by the wrists” “Get away from her, before I stab you” 

-He noticed how you always double checked the perimeter of the camp before the sun would set, and before getting in your tent you’d always look around in the distance, trying to spot if something was out of place. So he joined you in your routine, helping you check around and make sure you were ready in case anything could have happened.

-As you get closer, and you both open up more to each other, he even suggests he moves his tent closer to yours. “I can keep an eye around” Was his explanation, when he first brought it up. 

-And it helped so much with your sleep, you felt a little safer.

-If you didn’t feel safe at night, he’d suggest putting your tents together into one. Maybe it was a way to keep you closer, or he needed reassurance, but he made sure you knew you could place your bedroll anywhere as far or as close to him as you liked.

-Eventually as your bond would deepen and deepen, and you’d grow fond of each other, you found yourselves rediscovering your touch together. It started with your fingers tapping on his arm as you were walking, or a strand of your hair being pulled behind your ear. Some nights you’d sit close in your tent, and would hold hands, caress each other’s cheeks, and slowly even reach out for a kiss or two.

-It was a slow process, where you really got to know each other like no one else ever did. You could read each other like a book, yet you never shied away from asking each other for consent for anything.

-”Can I hold your hand” “Can I kiss your cheek” “Can I rest my head on your chest”

-The thing you both struggled with the most, was falling asleep holding each other. You’d panic very quickly when you would feel your chest becoming tighter. He’d move away as quickly as possible, and give you the space you needed.

-When he confesses he has been falling for you, it’s time to approach the very delicate topic of sex. You opened up about the fact that you wanted to wait ‘till you were ready, and he agreed without hesitation. Of course because he understood where you came from, he never asked for any help either, if he’d feel like he needed some release, he’d disappear for a bit and deal with it himself, without making you feel like a burden.

“I just want to make sure we are on the same page on this” You’d say as you crossed your arms, almost as if you wanted to fold yourself in and away. “If you want to have sex, I can’t right now” You’d start saying, but stop on your tracks for a second. “Wait, not that I can’t. I don’t want to have sex at the moment” You’d correct yourself, confident in your statement, he wasn’t even thinking about it, though he respected completely.

“I get it, and it’s okay my love” He’d say, patting your shoulder, and wondering whether he wanted to hold your hand or kiss it, he wanted to let you know he truly understood. “I don’t want to either” He smiled, and in that moment it was like both you two finally breathed. You’d reach for his hand to hold it in yours.

“It’s not because of you though” You wanted to explain to him, you were so close it was something you were ready to share, especially since you were slowly walking towards a different level of intimacy together, he had to know. “I want to do it when we are both ready” 

“I understand, my sweet, there’s no need for explanations” He’d smile again, one of his fangs slightly poked out against his lip. “You said you don’t want sex yet, so it’s no” 

“I’m a virgin” You’d blurt out, and that was something he didn’t entirely expect.

“Oh” He’d say at first, but as he noticed your cheeks slowly warming up, he pulled you closer to him, his forehead against yours. “It’s okay, I don’t care about it” He’d exhale. “As long as it’s you, I don’t care about anything” 

-When you reach Baldur’s Gate and finally you settle in the elfsong tavern, you made sure you always had a corner of time dedicated to helping each other relearn touch. 

-You'd lay next to each other in different levels of nakedness depending on how you felt at the moment, and you'd spend your time tracing each other's features. Whenever you'd feel comfortable enough to venture into a new thing, he'd ask for permission. 

-"Would you feel comfortable if I touched your hips?" "Can I trace your scars with my fingers?” “May I pull you closer?”

-You didn't fight time, you didn't rush towards sex. It came slowly and it was a process full of ups and downs. Some attempts ended up with you both sobbing, too overwhelmed. Other's ended up with panic attacks. Eventually though, after a lot of work together, you reached a point where you'd be able to make love.

-it was a very soft moment between you two. It involved a lot of comforting, kisses and patience, but it was something so profound, it wasn't only about shared pleasure, but it was about connecting your bodies and your souls. In a way it was like a wedding for you two it was the peak of trust you could have with each other. 

-He'd whisper so many times how proud he was of you, how much he loved you, and how glad he was that you were the one that would spend their life with him.

-Tears eventually arrived, they were the tears of two souls that finally had reclaimed a bit of their freedom. It was the cries of someone that was finally healing. 

[avocado-writing]

hiii your bg3 writing is so *chefs kiss*

I was hoping you'd be able to write the companions' reactions to a bard!tav, giving them a private serenade one night. like they lead them to a clearing away from camp one night and there's a picnic set up and tav sings a song they wrote specifically for their love?

if all the companions is too many, could you please specifically do Halsin, Astarion, Minthara and Wyll?

oh, cute! going to give you a lute, as I think that’s easiest!

Astarion

he makes a comment about how he feels the picnic was a bit unnecessary as he can’t eat it, but you mention you’re his snack later ;)

you sit him down, pour him a glass of wine, and pull out your lute

you ask, suddenly uncharacteristically shy, if you can play him something.

he cocks his head to the side and nods.

your fingers dance across strings, and when you start to sing, he realises it’s a song about him.

you once offered to be his mirror, and tonight you repeat that. your song is about how lovely he is, in every way. how he’s handsome but kinder than he wants to admit. brave. fierce.

its the most sincere celebration of his character he’s ever heard, and by the end of it, he’s left shocked.

“oh…” “did you like it?” chewing your lip, nervous.

“it’s… you’re…” he really doesn’t have the words to convey how you’ve made him feel. so he gently takes your chin in his hand and kisses you.

the kiss gets deeper. the lute is abandoned. so, really, is the picnic. the music the two of you make then is of a different kind.

later, when he has time to come up with a suitable review, he will tell you how much it meant to him. you are his favourite musician, and he has a new favourite song.

Halsin

oh, he’s been around for a long time, but this is the first time someone’s done something like this for him.

he’s just sat in bowled-over silence as you play for him, and it is amazing. an epic ode to his life and kindness, how strong and handsome you think he is.

he comes closer as you sing, sitting right next to you. studying every inch of your face as you perform.

when you’re done, he tells you that it was the loveliest thing he’s ever heard.

“I’ve heard pods of whales singing as they meet up with their lost family… until now, it was the sweetest sound to have graced my ears.”

he gets you to repeat the song and turns into different animals to enjoy it, be it via vibrations or different ways of hearing. either way he wants to be surrounded by your music, and you.

Minthara

absolutely no idea how to respond.

she was brought up in a cutthroat world. this softness is new to her.

she remains quiet for a while as she tries to work out if you’re trying to get anything from her. is this a trick?

”oh, I’m sorry,” you say after a while when she’s just been staring. “did you not like it?”

”no. no, it was… play it again.”

you do, and she really listens to the lyrics. they’re about her beauty. how glad you are to have met her. her strength in battle and soul.

she’s exceptionally moved.

“this is… a priceless gift that you’ve given me. I have no way to repay you.” “I don’t need repayment. it was freely given.”

she kisses you, for she has no way else to thank you. you have moved her more than she thought possible.

Wyll

you play and he listens. his eyes and smile go wide.

absolutely enraptured. claps when you’re done, and cheers your performance. you laugh and bow for him.

he tells you how much you mean to him, what a sweet gift this is. how your love is his most treasured possession.

he reaches into his pocket… and takes out some paper.

“I… I know this is incredible timing but actually… I wrote you something, myself.”

and he starts to read out a poem.

oh, it is lovely. full of flowery verse, and sweet appreciations of you. all the little things which make him love you. you pick up your lute and play along eventually, and he gets into the rhythm too.

the two of you laugh at the fact that you both had the same idea! you’re so alike, so in sync.

he holds you tenderly, kisses you softly.

you end up writing many songs about your Blade. he is your perfect muse.

bonus:

Karlach bursts into tears when she hears it, and scoops you up into a big hug at the end. she’s so emotional. she can’t stop saying she loves you, she loves your song, all of it. lots of wet kisses for you.

Gale is rendered speechless for the first time he can remember. he just stares at you in adoration. he’s never had anyone love him enough to write a song about him before, and he full force of his affection for you hits him in that moment. he is smitten.

[morgana-ren]

Bit the bullet and did the power-hungry ending on my exploratory playthrough to get it over with. I always love my boy, but he does very much turn into a bastard. Wrote this very quickly as a quick exercise because I hated that I had no dialogue that felt right. Anyway, enjoy the trash. Nothing explicit happens but a lot of dubious, awful shit is implied so please read at your own risk. Spoilers, obviously.

“And of course, I couldn’t have accomplished all this without you, and one wicked turn deserves another,” His eyes flash crimson beneath his pale lashes, glowing ominously in the firelight. “So tell me, my love, what is it that you desire?” 

He expects her glossy elevator eyes and a seductive smile. For her to reach for him with her soft, little hands and pull him close, aching to feel him– to taste him in all of his newfound resplendent glory. To offer her neck in submission, pleading for him to change her, to become like him, to sit at his side eternally as he rules from his throne on high as his most beloved spawn. His first and most revered creature of the night. His queen.

But she doesn’t.

Her brows furrow, the corner of her lips tugging inward as she purses them. It’s not the reaction he was expecting, to say the least. He frowns as he inspects her expression, trying to suss out exactly what it is that plagues her. She looks worried– anxious, even. She pulls her gaze away from him, stepping back away from him ever so slightly, staring at the dirt for a moment before speaking. 

“I just wanted you to be happy, Astarion. You were always so afraid, so paranoid that something or someone was going to come for you in the night. I never wanted you to have to worry about that ever again.” “And now I don’t,” He arches a pale brow. “Isn’t this what you wanted, my love? We’ll never fear anything ever again.” He feels her uncertainty vibrate the air around him, a sense of unease that permeates through her pores. It is not love and adoration and undying loyalty that she offers, but trepidation. 

“I know. I know it’s everything you ever wanted, and I’m happy for you, but it just seems like–” “Just seems like what?” He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at her. 

“It seems like it’s changed you somehow. You’re– you’re different,” She reaches a tender hand up to caress his cheek, and he fights the instinct to lean into her touch. 

“I am different,” He insists, his voice raising slightly. “Power beyond imagining. There has never been a vampire such as I am now. I feel it coursing through my veins, practically bursting at the seams with it–” That familiar habit crawls up his tongue, and he slips the words before he even thinks them over. “And we did it together. I’m untouchable now, and thus, so are you. It’s our world to take, darling. I love you. Isn’t that what you wanted so desperately?”

There’s a twinge of something he doesn’t quite recognize from her. Hurt, or perhaps… disappointment?

“Asto, I never wanted to strongarm or manipulate you into loving me. I care deeply for you, but that’s my burden to bear. I never wanted more from you than you wanted to give.” 

“Then what did you want?” His lips curl downward into a frown, and he closes the gap between them that she created, stepping close enough to her to have her shifting.

“I just–” She pauses, her words hanging heavy in the air and on her mind as she says them. “--I had hoped you would have let go after killing Cazador. Realized that you don’t need power everlasting to be happy. I guess I thought you would have learned something from all of this–”

“Learn what, exactly?” His tone shifts, his words pointed and cruel as he spits them out, fists furling at his sides. “You naive, silly little girl. You’ve no idea what it’s like– what the world is truly like. You dare to condemn me after what I’ve seen? You’d judge me for taking strength where I find it? Strength that I use to protect both of us? To save your pretty little neck from all those creatures who seek to spill your blood? You dare pretend to understand?

He feels it through the tadpole— The whip and lash of barbed grief against her heart, ripping through her chest like a fanged maw. It's enough to almost bring him to his knees, but if it wasn't for their bond, he wouldn't have the slightest idea. Her face hardens and she betrays nothing at all: a slow blink in his direction, emotionless face creaseless as porcelain, not a thing betrayed—

—Save her eyes. There's something in her eyes that tears at him. Panics him. He cannot place it but fear creeps up his spine, taking hold in his brain. Something disappears from them as he speaks and they glaze over, empty and melancholic. As if she is letting go. 

She shakes her head, the column of her throat twitching ever so slightly as she hard-swallows. "You're right. I— I don't. I'm sorry," She turns her eyes from him, and her expression hardens into something unreadable entirely. "I'll leave it then. I don’t want anything from you. Enjoy your power, Astarion.  You’ve– you’ve earned it." 

There is something unspoken in her words that batters at his brain, panicked and flapping about as a freshly caged bird. He prods at their connection and feels her recoil from him— feels her retreat into the recesses of her mind, severing their connection where she can, and blanking him out where she cannot. She is locking him out— and he realizes that it is perhaps for good. 

His lip curls as she turns from him without another word, walking away, abandoning the conversation— abandoning him. There's a flash of sanguine rage and a pulse of power not entirely his own yet and his hand extends of its own will, fingers grasping at her throat and drawing her again, nails digging into the same flesh he'd once caressed so tenderly. 

"Don't you walk away from me! Don't you ever turn your back on me again! Do you understand?"

Fear. That's what's in her eyes now. Not fear of him, but fear of what he has done. Of what she has allowed him to become. She searches him for a trace of the man she'd cared for, the man she shed blood for— both hers and countless others— to save. All she finds is a twisted mockery of it. The man she has helped him become— if a man is what you can call him. 

She has created a monster, and now he has turned his blood-red gaze on her. 

"Astarion—" 

He feels her pulse in his palm, rabbiting away in her ribs, the scent of her rushing blood palpable in his lungs. The very same scent as when she stares down a pack of howling gnolls or a murderous cultist with a knife to her belly. It is a scent that so often fades when he is near enough to her for comfort, but it is more powerful than ever as he bears down on her now. 

"That's not how this is going to work, darling," He hisses, yanking her so close he can see himself in the whites of her wide eyes. "You are never to walk away from me again. Am I clear?"

The force of her rage hits him, edged with red, raw disgust. Her lip twitches, eyes narrowing on him as the malaise of her mourning is devoured by a tidal wave of both her pride and her indignant anger. "I am not your servant. You do not command me." 

"Is that so? Isn't that what you wanted? Hmm? To lose yourself in me like you told me once upon a time? You wanted me to care for you– to love you– and I’ve told you that I do. You sought something from me and now you dare to turn your back on me?"

"I wanted to be with you! I cared about you! You're not some toy to be played with or some vessel for pleasure! I never wanted anything from you that you didn’t willingly give!" She stumbles over the words, shame seeping through her like a thick, viscous ink. "I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know what he had done to you—" 

"And it doesn't matter," He sneers, sharp eyes locked on hers. "You gave yourself to me that night, did you not? You saw me through everything standing at my side, cut down as many bodies as I, handed me the knife I used to carve Cazador's skin, gave me your eyes so that I might sign the contract that pledged my soul and countless others to the hells, and now you dare to pretend your hands are clean as you point a finger at me?" 

"I wanted you to feel safe! To never have to look over your shoulder in fear ever again! To never again have to sleep with one eye open like we do now, just waiting for the creatures that stalk the shadows to swoop down upon us! For the first time in your life, I wanted you to know for certain that you could kill anything that threatened you or your freedom! I never wanted to tear down Cazador's tyrannical throne only to place you upon it— but it seems that's exactly what I've done!" 

Something in his body snaps, and his reaction is a visceral, violent scarlet slash of fury. He squeezes her neck, baring ivory fanged teeth down on her as he would a prey. "Do not ever compare me to him!"

Her eyes are wide with fear– with disgust– as she croaks out the words from beneath his palm.

“Look at yourself, Astarion. Am I wrong?” 

He looks down at her, at the woman he claims to love as he chokes her and she suffocates on his power, her bruising throat flexing in strain beneath his steely fingertips. He can just barely make himself out in the dewy sheen of her eyes as they begin to water, and what stares back at him isn’t a man– it is a monster. 

Something in him shatters like glass, the last threads of his sanity slipping away through his fingertips. He is too far gone now to turn back, too lost in the red mist to find the light. 

But he will not wander it alone. He will never be alone again.

"I am whatever I say I am, and you are what I say you are, and you will do as I command. Your place is at my side, now and forever," He challenges her, fingers squeezing tighter on her throat as he breathes in the sweet, saccharine scent of her terror; the palpating, rocketing pulse of her thrumming heart. "And you will acquiesce to me. It’s not a request."

"Don't you dare presume to order me about like I'm your slave!" She claws at his wrist, trying to wrench free of his grip. “I never agreed to that!” 

“You don’t have to, my love,” He leans down further, pressing his forehead to hers. “Because I have decided for you.” 

“You do not get that right!” She snarls, baring her own teeth back at him. 

“Oh, but I do, darling. But I do. You don’t seem to grasp how this is going to work, so allow me to explain it to you.” 

He shoves her hard to the ground, releasing her throat only to leer over her from above, stepping on either side of her body. Her will is iron, but the flash of fear across her face is unmistakable. 

“You gave yourself to me, and I intend to keep what is mine. Your body is so fragile– so frail– You’d never survive without me, and I have no intentions of letting you go now that I have you. So you will stay by my side always. It’s what’s best for you, my little love, and you belong to me.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” 

“Yes,” He says firmly, as if scolding a small child. “You do.” 

“I don’t have to obey you!” She hisses. 

“Not yet, perhaps.” 

Horror grips her and realization takes hold. “You wouldn’t, Astarion. You can’t do this–” 

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” He bends his knees, leaning down as he brushes the hair from her neck, thumb stroking tauntingly over her pulse point. “I wanted you to come willingly. I wanted you to ask for it, accept my gift of your own volition. But you’re a foolish, willful girl. You don’t know what’s good for you, do you? So I will show you.” 

“After everything? After everything you’ve been through? After everything we have been through?” Her voice breaks, and with it, her heart. Her strength slips away, and he can feel it swallow his senses in a wretched black void, sending him drowning him in her abyssal anguish– her betrayal at his hands– but he shoves it down and locks it away. Something he cannot place claws and tears at his own heart with a need so violent it almost sends him reeling, something begging him to stop, that this isn’t right– to her of all people– but he silences it. He will not lose her. He will not. 

Even if he must place a collar around her neck to keep her and keep her leash pulled taut.

And what she has to say about it is of little consequence. 

“This doesn’t have to hurt, my sweet girl,” He says softly, flicking his tongue over a fang. “But I know you like when it does.” 

“Astarion, please! I don’t want to have to hurt you–” He laughs, vicious and cruel, cackling like a hyena over carrion. “As if you could! I’m untouchable. The very power of the night bends to my commands, and so too shall you. Even your blood sings for me, eager and ready and willing. Begging for me,” He places his hand softly on her chest, just above her rips, feeling the gentle pump beneath. “You want this, even as you play coy. You want to belong to me. So I will give it to you what you desire.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” A single silver tear slips down the gentle curve of her cheek. 

He blinks at her, and for a moment, he freezes upon seeing her tears and she can see a glimpse of him in there. Somewhere deep and far, screaming and thrashing and desperate against his own might, fighting a war against his very nature. He looks at her with the same eyes that revere her, crave her, love her– but above all, honor her. 

For a fleeting moment, he is the Astarion she loves. His lip trembles and quakes and the urge to hold her is overwhelming. To comfort her. To hold her close and keep her safe and protect her, to strike down all her fears with his bare hands. To love her. 

And yet he is the source of her pain. 

“Yes.” 

And then he is gone again. The light goes out and his eyes become inky black pits, nothing in them but her own miserable reflection as he leans down ever further, his warm breath against her neck as he teases her throat with a fang. 

“Give yourself to me, now and always,” He whispers, blasphemous and terrible as it runs a shiver down her spine. “By my side now and forever. It’s all ours, my love. Everything we lay eyes upon. We can have it all. Wealth, power– each other. Centuries upon centuries stretching into the endless horizon of eternity. I want it all, and I want to share it with you.”

She could raise a hand to him. She could try and fight him off with tooth and nail and flame. She could kick and crawl, scramble away back to the safety of camp. She could–

But she doesn’t. 

“I don’t want this, Astarion. A beloved slave is still a slave. A diamond collar is still a collar. A leash held by someone you love is still a leash. I love you, but you can’t force this. Please–” She exhorts, trying to swallow back a bout of fresh tears. “Please don’t do this. Not to me. Not to you.” 

He inhales raggedly, hand slipping up to her cheek to cup it, savoring her warmth one last time. 

“I have to. I won’t lose you. Not now, not ever. Not to age or blight or foolish notions. I cherish you, and I’d see you safe.” 

“A gilded cage is still a cage.” She closes her eyes, hand furled in his doublet. 

“And I will carry it with me. Always.”

[fics-a-plenty]

Shopping Trip

Astarion x gn!reader x Halsin

Word count: 649

TW: shirtless Halsin, imagined to take place in Act 3 but no real spoilers

I went back and forth about posting this, but figured why not. I can't be the only person that put Halsin in an outfit with no shirt as soon as I had a chance to. 😂 The angelic scion outfit is just *chefs kiss*

Astarion even said that he would probably outlaw clothes if he could. Who am I to deny him of less clothing!

Anyways, this is a short little thing I wrote at like 2am. So enjoy!

Halsin shifted uncomfortably as he stood in front of the mirror. No matter how these new clothes were adjusted, being in so many layers made the druid feel so constricted. While he was told multiple times that he could move freely, he felt like if he moved at all the fabric would rip apart.

"At least try to look like you're enjoying yourself, love." Astarion's voice came from behind him, the red eyes taking in every inch of the man in the mirror.

"I must be honest, this is not quite what I had in mind when our Heart said that we had things to do in the city." Halsin responded, turning to see his partner's reaction, only to find the vampire staring at how his upper arms filled out the sleeves of the nice clothes they had put him in.

"I know this isn't exactly comfortable Halsin. But we need to make sure that we have some nice clothes while we're here. We can only walk into so many parties in our armor or camp clothes." You said, walking in with a couple more options for him to try.

"If it makes you feel any better, at least you can see how good we're making you look." Astarion responded, taking the items you had brought over, automatically taking one of the options out to put away. He smirked at you slightly offended 'Hey!' as he went to put it back.

"My Heart, I'm not sure that these are really necessary. Shouldn't we be focusing on-" Halsin hesitated for a minute, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody was listening, "other things at the moment?"

You looked back at him with a sweet smile. "The world can handle us not working for an hour or so." You responded as brought one of the shirts to him, holding it up to his chest to get an idea of how it would look. "Besides, how often do you think we'll have a chance to let Astarion free in a shop like this after it's all over."

As if on cue, the high elf walked back into the room with a dark green piece of fabric, "I know were meant to be looking for some nice party clothes, but would anyone really complain about this?" He said to you with a smirk, holding up a wrap around skirt with nothing but gold arm bands to go with it.

"I think we definitely might need you to try that on." You responded quickly, tossing the shirt you had off to the side, completely forgotten.

After a few minutes, Halsin stepped out of the charging area. He didn't even make it to the dressing area before you and Astarion were swooning. You bit your lip as the pale elf let out a low whistle. The large elf couldn't help the deep chuckle that rumbled his chest at his partners' reactions. While most people would feel uncomfortable with the lack of coverage, the freedom it gave him made him feel much more at peace.

He purposely flexed his back slightly as he looked at himself in the mirror, his lip curling into a smirk at Astarion's almost purr at the sight.

"Okay, but do we really need party clothes? Where would we really wear them?" You managed to get out. Your face flushing as you met Halsin's eyes in the mirror, causing him to shift a little and flex his arms against the bands.

"Well in that case, there's a matching set for you too." Astarion said with a laugh as he rushed off to grab you an outfit to match. Your head turning to call out that you didn't bring enough gold for multiple outfits.

"Maybe this trip was worth the time." Halsin's voice came as a shock when it was suddenly next to you, pushing you towards the changing area as Astarion returned.

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Found this lurking in a doc of random writing prompts from months back. If anyone remembers the exhausting discourse about whether or not bg3 characters would peel oranges, I apparently snapped, wrote all this for some reason, but then only ever posted the Minthara one and totally forgot all the others:

They would all peel the stupid orange you donkeys, if the point of this exercise is to complain about your non-favs being assholes that's stupid, use your brains and broad character interpretation to extrapolate HOW they peel the orange-

Like this!!!

Gale would peel the orange bc you asked and he's considerate like that, but like he's reading at the moment and doesn't want to fully be pulled away from that to do something you can obviously do yourself so he's curious why are you asking, is this some kind of gambit? a test? he's good at those, he'll pass, he'll be the best orange peeler. Gale casts mage hand, shows off an advanced level of dexterity not only in peeling the orange without direct tactile aid, but he also conjures a plate, nicely arranges the individual slices, adds a napkin and asks if you want something to drink with your snack. He is at once gracious and condescending, but everyone wins, you get a treat and he gets to show off and doesn't even get juice on his hands or the book he's reading.

Wyll won't even question it. If you walk up to him when he's doing absolutely anything at all and ask him to peek an orange, he will immediately remind you that he's a better person than you and that you should peel an orange for him---he will not do this directly, he will do it by a) being Wyllyam Ravenguard, and b) by looking pleased to see you and your orange and saying, "oh, we have oranges?" as he's already peeling said orange and licks a little juice off his thumb "that's quite nice---sweetest orange I ever had came from the grove of a family friend, same day I learned to play lance-board. We're so ready to be delighted by everything when we're young, aren't we?" And he's looking at you all sad and pensive, and you say "hold on" and leave to get another orange and now both of you are peeling and eating oranges and you've lost track of who's orange is whose, but you're laughing and chatting and it doesn't matter, you just had a nice talk with Wyll and somehow earned 20 points of approval for asking him for a favor.

Astarion would peel an orange for you because it's not hard and he's actually not nearly as much of a salty asshole as people think, it's just that he mirrors energy, so if Tav is going to sass him, he'll sass Tav back. I know it's tempting to choose the bitchy dialogue response when speaking to him, but there's also the consequences of your actions. So, you approach Astarion and ask him to peel an orange. You do it without being a bitch to him, presumably, because we all know how to put on our "asking a favor" voice, and he responds in kind. He sighs, says nothing, takes the fruit, pulls a dagger from seeming nowhere, and expertly quarters the orange, peeling each section of skin as far off as he can into the bushes. He offers you the knife to lick clean, promises he's like 90% sure it's free from the blood of his last kill. He takes a bite of one of the quarters and gives you the rest of the fruit to eat. You ask him if vampires eat normal food, he rolls his eyes and says "no" with a smirk. You spend the rest of your life wondering if he was being sarcastic or not.

Halsin initially doesn't have much of a reaction to your request beyond taking a split second to process, then he takes the orange and begins to peel it. He's deliberate, slow. Taking it in small pieces and you're sure you've seen him do this before and it didn't take so long, what's he doing? After about fifteen seconds of solid silence and too small flecks of orange skin piling up at his feet, he says, "I assume there's something more you wanted to ask me?" but you literally just came over here to ask help for this orange, didn't you? Oops, you've accidentally overshared some deep dark secret, but you know what, that's not a problem, you can generally trust Halsin with those for reasons that may or may not be related to content taken out of early access. He nods along, and you can tell he's fully focused on what you're saying now, because, acting unconsciously, he's much better at peeling the orange. He handles it gently, brushing off the dregs of the soft white interior of the skin, so that you end up with a perfect skinned but still totally intact orange, not a drop of juice escaped. He hands it to you while giving you some admittedly not very helpful advice, but you find you do actually feel better anyway to have unburdened yourself a little---and hey, now you have an orange to eat.

Minsc is probably not a good person to ask, but you did ask, and he was enthusiastic about taking on the task. He keeps getting distracted though, he's talking to you and to Boo the whole time, about what, I don't know and it doesn't matter. He's demonstrating more energy than you will have, ever again. He keeps accidentally breaking through the final soft layer of skin and squirting juice everywhere. Parts of the orange are getting mangled, but he's oblivious to it and having a great time, and you know what, so are you. Was this the best way to get your orange? Absolutely not. Was it the most entertaining? YMMV, but it was certainly unique to Minsc.

Shadowheart takes the orange from you and it almost seems as though a moment passes and she's still processing your question. "Could you peel this for me?" that's what you said. She blinks, looks at the orange, then looks back at you, demeanor changing, darkening, just a touch. She's not annoyed, not really, but she's suspicious. Is this a game? She likes games, but she likes to play them her way. "You didn't bring this over here for me? You just want me to peel it? Shall I also feed it to you a slice at a time and stroke your hair and fan the heat from the back of your neck?" she's being facetious, but also yes, yes you would like her to do all that. "No, it's ok," you manage to say, hating yourself. "I just need some help." She is at once relieved and a touch disappointed that this wasn't some game. You can tell she's thinking deeply about something as she wordlessly completes the task, somehow managing to remove the peel in one long spiraled strip without using a knife, just her hands. You want to ask what it is, but she inexplicably seems a little down. You tell her you only want half and then stay with her while the two of you eat the orange together.

Karlach is maybe the best person to peel the orange, but she doesn't know it. She's alarmed you asked. "You know I'm going to cook that thing, right?" She warns you, and you respond, "Yes. It will be delicious. Please scorch it." She thinks that's wild, but says she trusts you to know what you're about. Like Shadowheart, she also uses her nails, but it's much easier to see how efficient she is at spiraling the orange out of its slowly cooking skin, and the whole time she's excitedly reminiscing about some of the best meals she's had at her favorite places in Baldur's Gate. She's sad there's only one orange, and does in fact suggest that you peel some more, this time though, she wants you to do it too. "I'll cook them a little, and when the peel starts to get black, I give it to you to finish off, yeah?" But then she ends up doing all the work, having way too much fun with it, and also finding that yes, a slightly broiled orange is absolutely delicious. "We've got to do something with all of these---what about cake? Or wine! Do we have anything it could ferment inside of?!"

Lae'zel asks a lot of question first, "why?"/"Is this some sort of custom?"/"Am I meant to eat this as well?" and you try to answer rapidly "Hungry"/"Not really"/"You can have some if you like" her final question is "why are you asking me to do this? Is that really the best way to apply my particular skill set?" and the best response to this is to just say, "Please." She's annoyed, but she agrees and peels the orange, somehow without looking at it, and instead glaring at you the entire time. She hands you the freshly peeled fruit and demands, "go and eat." You'd better do as she asks, but definitely take a moment to look back as she tastes a bit of the juice on her fingers, looks furious with herself. Delicious, isn't it Lae'zel?

Minthara takes the orange and inexplicably rips the peel off in one fluid motion. You ask how she did that and she responds with a pitying glance that slides into a glare of disgust. "I imagine a surface dweller that cannot engage in simple hunting and gathering of the tame flora and fauna of topside could not hope to last long in the merciless wilds of the underdark. Do you ever dwell on that? On what fate would do with you, should your conveniences ever fail you? I think it would torment me day and night, to know so assuredly of my own weaknesses." You don't say anything to that, because what could you say? You look at the peeled orange in your hand, juice pooling in your palm and then back up at Minthara. "Do you want some?" and she answers "No" before you're even finished talking, but if you pass an insight check, you know she's lying. You go back to your own tent to eat the orange. It is poisoned.

Jahiera manages to peel the orange without pausing in whatever else she's doing, she also doesn't look up or hardly respond at all besides "here you go, cub," she's so practiced, you immediately recognize that she's done this 10000x. It is in her nature to peel oranges. She does it without thinking and often without remembering if there's something more important on her mind. She hasn't even considered not peeling an orange in centuries. There's always someone who needs an orange peeled, and she's perfect at it. You should leave her to what she was doing and eat your orange on the way back to your tent. An hour later, tell her "thank you for peeling my orange" she will say "you're welcome," but you can tell she has no idea what you're talking about.

[commander-rahrah]

Talking to the Moon

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~5000 (haha.. whoops) Warnings: slightly suggestive for a tiny moment but SFW, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Set in early Act II. Reader/Tav's origin of their powers is revealed to the party and there is a negative reaction to it. Astarion attempts to comfort reader with his usual routine and provide a "distraction" but gets rejected. He begins to question their own reasoning and feelings, and realizing that he might be feeling something… different.

Note: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. However, there is some backstory (noble background and a deity) and appearance descriptors (only freckles and hair colour) assigned to the reader/Tav. I really enjoy the dynamic of the moon/stars that I have with my own Tav named Olympia and Astarion and for this particular idea I wrote I felt the backstory was too important to leave out!

I am an avid D&D player and I loooove making OCs (its a problem I have like 30) but this particular backstory and character that this is based off of is very dear to me, so I really hope your enjoy!

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You were all gathered on the grounds just outside of the Last Light Inn, heading back inside the main doors with Jaheira and Isobel. The safe haven protected from the forces of the Absolute — thanks to you and your companions quick action. The remaining Tieflings and the other inhabitants of the inn still shaken from the sudden attack, but resting safely inside. “I’m thankful you were all here to stop the attack.” The cleric of Selûne said softly. 

Isobel then looked over her shoulder at you, stopping for a moment as she looked you over from head to toe. “And you... I recognize my goddess’s powers within you — but they are so different from mine. Your magic is not born out of devotion for her.”

“What is she talking about?” Shadowheart asked from your side, whipping her head to you so fast her black braid flung out behind her.

You swallowed. You had been dreading this conversation. Fearing the moment it came out. “Yes, I, uh—,” You stumbled over your words, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. “I was blessed by Selûne as a babe.”

Isobel raised her eyebrows, her lips stretching into a slight smile. “A blessing indeed. A drop of Selûne's own powers lives within you. You use it well.”

You bowed your head, your cheeks flushing a bright shade. Embarrassment and chagrin flooding you as every single member of your party turned to face you — varying reactions on all of them.

You eyes were still on your boots as both Isobel and Jaheira bid you a goodnight, telling you of your own rooms upstairs before disappearing amongst the many doors of the inn. The rest of your party quiet — not even Astarion had opened his mouth to fill the silence with a comment or joke.

The voice who broke it was the one you had dreaded the most. Shadowheart’s voice was a harsh whisper, but it still cut you deeply. “I cannot believe you. You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

You winced, your teeth biting into your cheek, “I wasn’t lying. I just… didn’t tell you.”

“You just didn’t tell me that you are blessed with divine magic from my goddess’ enemy.” The dark-haired cleric scoffed, her nose crinkling so much that the scar across her face shrank considerably.

You thought of all the nights around the campfire sharing soft laughs, the early mornings that you helped braid her hair. This was why you had been avoiding it. You didn't want to lose that. Shadowheart had become a friend, an ally. “I didn’t want to ruin anything, we’ve grown so close and… it’s not like I worship her. I don’t say my prayers to her every night, I was just a babe—“

“Well I do!” She raised her voice, a few passing Harper’s stirring in shock at the outburst before shuffling away. “In Shar’s name. This is unbelievable — I’ve been mere feet away from you this whole time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you kept your devotion to Shar a secret and when it did come out all of us have been nothing but accepting.” Your eyebrows were furrowed together in worry. This was going exactly as you had dreaded. You’d hope your friendship would be something she would consider however…

“Alsoooo,” Astarion drawled, “The last time you had a disagreement with one of us, we woke up to you holding a knife to Lae'zel’s neck. Can you really blame them for not bringing it up?” He wagged his fingers at her, a single white brow raised.

Her nostrils flared as she flashed a look to the vampire, before turning back to you. “This is no disagreement. This is wrong, this is against everything my lady stands for."

“Shadowheart, please. You are my friend—“ You began to beg, but the cleric cut you off.

“No. Not anymore. We will continue to travel together to reach Moonrise Towers. We will get rid of these tadpoles and then we are done.” She spat.

“I—,” You choked, unable to think of what else to say. How else to defend yourself. You realized that Shadowheart’s mind was made up, no matter what you said right now.

“Shadowheart,” Astarion cut in again, stepping in front of you almost protectively. “Enough.” His voice a low growl.

Gale and Wyll stepped forward too, concern etched on their face. Karlach’s own features were torn — her eyes flitting between you and Shadowheart with immense worry. Lae'zel remained in the back, her muscular arms crossed over her chest as she observed silently.

The dark haired cleric shook her head, a loud breath escaping her before she stormed off up the stairs. Her armor and weapons clanking loudly as she stormed away.

“Princess, come on!” Karlach shouted after her, starting up the stairs. But she paused for a moment, stretching out to grab your elbow gently. “It’ll be alright giggles, ok? Don’t worry about it.”

You could only nod as you watched the Tiefling chase after her, both of them disappearing upstairs.

“Well, that was hard to watch.“ Wyll murmered, offering you a pained smile.

You waited for the sound of a door slamming above, before turning to head up the stairs yourself. You felt your throat tighten as you fought to keep your tears at bay. "Today was a lot. I think I’m just going to find my room now.” You barely waved goodbye as you took the worn steps two at a time, disappearing from your group without a backwards glance as a few tears broke free.

“Wait, do you need—“ Gale began to trail behind you, his brows knitted together and face pained. 

“Let them be, Gale.” Astarion waved a hand to stop him pursing you up the stairs. “Let them drop the mask for a while. If you go barging in there right away, they will paint a smile on their face and act like everything is fine.”

A look of surprise crossed his face before the wizard let his shoulders slump, “You’re right.”

A sound of delight escaped the vampire, before he cupped his pale fingers around his pointed ear, “I beg your pardon, could you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

Gale let out a large huff, before he admitted “I said you’re right. I’ll let them be.”

“Oooh, Gale. If you’re trying to woo me, at least buy me dinner first.” Astarion pretended to twirl his hair, before flashing him a wicked grin.

Gale pushed his face into a palm, letting out another exasperated sound. “Gods, save me.”

• • •

You were sat on the bed, your back pressed into the back of the headboard with your knees pressed to your chest. It had been a few hours before the tears had finally stopped, leaving you feeling even more exhausted and drained. You weren’t sure when the news of what lived inside you would come out — but it went exactly as you feared it had. The betrayal and anger on Shadowheart’s face was repeating over and over in your mind. The rest of your party had seemed accepting… but it was hard to tell what exactly they were thinking.

A sudden knock at your door had you scrambling to right yourself, wiping at your damp cheeks and eyes with the back of your hands. You fixed your shirt, and stretched out your legs to look as if you were just relaxing on the bed before letting out, “Come in.”

Your voice sounded much more meek than intended.

Astarion poked his head through the door, a strange combination of both hesitation and curiosity painted across his pale face. “Hello pet,” He purred, lingering in the door way for a moment.

“Astarion, hi.” You sat up a little straighter, surprised to see him. “Come in.”

He shut the door softly behind him, “Feeling any better? Or did Shadowheart come find you for an encore?”

You shook your head, “No, she’s stayed in her room — thank the gods. I don’t think I could handle another moment like that tonight.”

His eyes betrayed him for a moment, glancing to the floor, “Yes, well usually I would say it’s entertaining watching someone else’s drama unfold… but I didn’t enjoy that.”

He swayed over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Not close enough to touch, but you couldn’t help the small fluttering that erupted in your belly as he sat next to you. How casual it seemed, how easy it had become.

You shoved the thought away, instead scrunching your mouth up as you spoke, “I was avoiding it for a reason. I feel terrible... I shouldn't have hidden it for so long.”

“Well, if you were looking for a distraction…” He stretched his hand over to you and drew lazy circles on your knee before dragging it up to your thigh. “I can be of some assistance.” A seductive smile curved his lips, his eyes darkening. 

Your expression crumbled as the crack you had just soothed in your chest starting to form again. “That’s all you see me as, isn’t it?”

“What?” He asked, his hand freezing on your leg.

“Sex. That’s the only way you see me.”

“I—“ His eyes widened with bewilderment, before he blinked at you. “I don’t— I mean.” He continued to stammer, his fanged mouth hanging open in genuine shock.

You let out a sad sigh, your eyebrows furrowing like you were in pain. You were. The ache in your chest was growing tenfold, the familiar feeling of your heart crawling up your throat returning. “I’m not in the mood Astarion. If you want to feed, do it and go.”

He instantly pulled his hand away at your rejection, clutching it to his chest with the other one. He didn’t give an apology, nor did he seem interested in your offer to feed. His red eyes were blinking animatedly, as if confused. Before he bowed his head and got off the bed quickly. Then the sound of the door clicking softly behind him an instant later.

You couldn’t hear his steps in the hall even if you wanted to — so instead you rolled over onto your side, curling your limbs into yourself as you screwed your face up once more and cried.

• • •

Astarion didn’t know what to think. What to do.

No one had ever rejected him before. This is what he did, this is what he was built for. To manipulate. To seduce. 

To play the dazzling, charming distraction. He used to target the lonely, the distressed and upset… it made the hunt so much easier. And Cazador used to praise him for it — he said the miserable and desperate tasted so much better. 

But you weren’t like those easy targets. You weren’t simple, and he should have known better. You were complex and contradictory — not something he appreciated in a target. But something he could appreciate in a fellow person. Things were becoming to muddled, too confusing.

Gods dammit, he had been so foolish. His entire plan could be falling apart now — you sitting up in your room alone mulling everything over. 

But what really bothered him wasn’t the idea of his plan falling apart. That his protection from his old master could be gone by morning, leaving him behind to suffer the consequences.

No, what really bothered him, what he was really afraid of was how upset you’d been. That he was the cause of that.

Astarion's skin felt hot and crawling as he realized he had treated you as others had treated him all these years. Trying to use your desire as a way to override any other feeling. To seduce you into acquiescence, to fool you into thinking you needed only him. It disgusted him, what he’d done. Shame coursed through him and his fingers clenched onto his leather clad knee. 

He was grateful for the little dark attic he had found above the barn — grateful to be away from the prying eyes of the rest of the party. He couldn't explain this to them, he wouldn't. 

A splash of wet splashed onto the back of his hand and he realized he was crying. He'd forgotten he could do that. He'd stopped so many years ago, numbing and willing himself so that none would come. So that despite the pain or hurt he was feeling, his tears would not be there to give Cazador anymore satisfaction. His master didn't need anymore physical evidence of his anguish — his screams and blood and broken body was enough. He had stopped crying years ago. Until tonight. 

Wiping his face, he took a steadying breath he knew he didn't need. And then again for good measure. He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he stood up with a slightly trembling body.  He needed to fix this. For you. For himself. 

Before he knew it he was back outside of your door, his fist hovering just above the painted wood. His other hand was picking at the seam of the side of his leather pants nervously. His red eyes stared at the little tray of food he'd brought up for you — resting on the hallway table as he waited to see if you would even let him in. A peace offering he'd thought. A way to get his foot in the door before he could… explain. Apologize. 

Chewing his lip, he finally let his knuckles rap on the door. He lingered for a moment, before opening it slightly. The small crack in the door angled enough to reveal you still laid in the bed, your back to the door as you were curled up on the mattress. Guilt flooded through him all over again. 

“Gale, I told you I’m fine—"

He pushed the door open a little more, just enough so that is creaked to get your attention. He only poked his head through, enough for you to see his pale face as you strained your neck to look over your shoulder. 

“Oh. It’s you.”

Astarion swallowed at the sound of your disappointment. It was not something he ever wished to hear again if he could. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he looked down, unable to look you in the eye, “Will you let me try again?”

“What?”

He finally looked up, his red eyes round and soft, “Let me try again.”

You gave him a hard to read look, before nodding curtly. 

Astarion grabbed the door, not closing it fully but just enough that the lock bounced softly back. His pale knuckles knocked again gently, before he heard you let out an exasperated breath. “Come in.”

A sheepish, tight lipped smile spread across his face as he stepped fully into the room and looked at you. You were sitting up in the bed now, your arms crossed over yourself with an unimpressed look on your face. He used his foot to close the door quietly as he held his peace offering behind him. 

“I won’t bother you, if you don’t want company. But I noticed you hadn’t eaten. I brought you dinner.” He pulled the tray out from behind his back, showing it to you. 

“Oh.”

“And a glass of wine.” He placed everything carefully onto the nightstand, before backing away towards the door. “It’s disgusting.”

A soft laugh escaped you, “Thank you." You took a small sip of the wine, before twisting your face. “Ugh — you are right, that is disgusting.”

“I’m almost certain I saw those Tiefling children your so fond of mixing it themselves. Pray this is a part time gig and they don’t become bartenders in the future.”

The two of you let snickers out through your noses, before the room turned quiet again. “Thank you for bringing this up. I mean it.”

“You’re very welcome.” He shuffled his feet, unsure if that was a dismissal or not. But he also found himself not wanting to leave. His hands were behind his back, his own fingers intertwining and squeezing tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for how you were treated today. It wasn’t fair.”

Your eyes flashed down, your brow crinkling. “It’s okay—“

Astarion shook his head profusely, “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t owe any of us anything — not your story, or … or anything else. What you decide to tell us, what you trust us with... that is your choice.” 

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t trust you all, I do… I just.”

He cut you off gently, “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I know.” Your finger was playing with the rim of the wine glass in mesmerizing circles, over and over. “I do, trust you though.”

His red eyes lifted from your hands, to give you a quizzical look, “Now, why in the heavens would you do that?”

Your laugh was music to his ears. Full and bright. You shrugged, putting the glass back onto the nightstand — abandoning it and the dinner for another moment. “I just do.”

The vampire couldn't stop the purr that escaped his lips, “Hmmm, other members of our merry party would disapprove.”

“Probably. I think they disapprove of most of my interactions with you.” You said quietly, picking at the blanket you were sat upon. 

The room filled with silence for a moment as you thought. “I was just a baby… when it happened. I was born ill — so weak and tired, it was almost like I was a dead. My parents threw all of their power and wealth at every scholar and healer they knew to try and cure me.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up as you spoke, joining you carefully on the bed. Much further then his previous visit. His hands settled onto his own lap as he listened. 

“Nothing would work. And with every failed attempt, father become more and more distant. And mother became more and more desperate, hoping for any miracle she could find. She began to pray to any God that would listen, traveling to their shrines and statues. One night, my mother had fallen asleep crying while kneeling next to me. She said she awoke to a breeze and silver light — and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was standing over us. Her hair was set in long silver waves, a flowing dress cascading over her curves, and a small smile on her lips as she watched the scene of mother and child. 'Selûne?' My mother asked, and the ethereal woman merely smiled again. 'I heard your prayers and felt your tears as if they were mine own. No mother should know the loss of their child.' As I slept, she touched my hair lightly, telling my mother I was pure and good-hearted. Selûne told her that she would help me, but that I would have a calling that would lead me away from my normal life of nobility and comfort. After my mother agreed, a white light shone through the Goddess’ hand, spreading into my hair, into my body and creating an aura around me. My hair turned silvery white, and star-like freckles began to shine all over my skin.” Your fingertips danced across your face, touching the skin that showed the blessing. 

Astarion was gobsmacked, his eyes lingering over your silver hair and the freckles that dusted your nose and cheeks. His mind struggling to keep up with the information. “So, what Isobel said is true… a drop of Selûne's power lives in you?”

You nodded your head weakly, avoiding his stare. 

“Gods… Why tell me this?”

You only offered a soft smile, “I wanted you to know.”

A thousand thoughts were running through his mind — most of them selfish. He'd prayed to the Gods every night for years, asking, begging, willing them to save him. To give him a swift death. Anything. And never received an answer back. But Selûne had for you.

But now that he knew you, he could think of no one else who would deserve it. He couldn't bare to think what the world would have been like if you had been taken away so early. Where he would be now if he hadn't met you on the cliffside after that damn ship. “Well, it seems that you truly are walking poetry, darling. Our little moon shining a light on all of us.”

He swore he saw you bottom lip tremble at the name. 

"Let me tell the others, when I'm ready?" You asked quietly. 

"Of course." 

The room fell into silence again, but it was more comfortable then before. Astarion found himself lost in his thoughts — a confusing melody of haunting memories, and wishful thoughts. 

“You never answered my question before.”

“Hmm?” Your voice had him blinking back to reality, turning his body to look over at you. 

“About… how you see me.” Your eyes were big and vulnerable. They tugged at his heart, at the knot in his stomach that formed with the thought of you.

“Oh," Was all he could get out. 

“I—I just,” Your voice was feint and nervous, your eyes studying the features of his face intently. 

“Don’t ask now.” He blurted, his fingers clenching into a tight fist on his lap. 

“What?”

“Give me time. Please.” He begged gently. 

Your eyes softened, before you nodded in silent understanding. “I can do that.”

Relief flooded him, his fingers relaxing and shoulders drooping. 

You seemed content on letting it drop, instead grabbing the plate of food next to you and balancing it on your knee. “Where is my roommate for the evening?” You asked, before taking a bite. 

“Lae'zel? Oh she deemed the lodgings unacceptable and that she would rather die than join us soft-skinned weaklings in a room. She set up a tent out front in the dirt.”

You finished chewing, before grinning. “That… checks out.”

“So you get a luxurious evening alone. At least one of us does." He feigned a frown, before waving his hands dramatically, "I get to spend the night listening to Gale and Wyll snore.” He rolled his eyes before speaking again. "I will say charming Wyll did volunteer to sleep on the floor so I could have half the bed, bless him.”

“You could stay here if you want. To sleep, I mean.” You offered easily, pushing the food around your plate with the fork as you waited for him to reply. 

He blinked again, caught off guard by your proposal. “Oh, that’s not necessary—“

“Astarion, really? You’ll share with Gale, but not with me?” You teased, a single eyebrow arching. 

He stared at you for a moment, dumbfounded before nodding, “Alright. Eat your dinner. I’ll get my things.” 

• • •

Slinking into his room, Astarion left out a sigh of relief as he realized it was empty. He needed a moment to ground himself and stop his spinning head. He had no idea what today would bring, but this whirlwind of a night was not at all what he had expected. He started grabbing his night clothes he had laid out on the bed in his shared room with Wyll and Gale, stuffing them into his rucksack. 

But he bristled as he heard steps approaching, looking over his shoulder to see  his two fellow male companions enter the room. 

“Ahhh, they you are Astarion. We wondered where you scurried off too.” The wizard spoke, tucking the book he had in his hands into the crook of his arm instead. 

“Oh, I found better company than the likes of you.” He shot back sarcastically — earning an eye roll from Gale. 

“Did you now?” The warlock asked with eyebrows raised, before bending down to his own pack to untie his bedroll from it. 

“Don’t bother with the bed roll tonight, Wyll. You’ll have to keep Gale warm tonight.”

"Where are you off too?" Gale asked, his brows furrowed. 

Wyll studied him carefully, before offering a little smirk to the vampire. “Off to sleep under the stars?”

“Amongst them actually.” Astarion replied, keeping his face perfectly neutral. As if to not give anything away.  

Wyll gave him a knowing look. “You be a gentleman, yeah?”

“Aren’t I always?” He said with a little bow before grabbing his bag and slinking out of the room. 

• • •

Your room was very quiet when he emerged back in it. Your empty dinner plate was sat on the edge of the nightstand, the glass of wine mostly untouched expect for that first single sip. The candles were starting to flicker with their last remaining life, the glow now a deep set orange instead of a bright yellow light. 

You had stepped behind the privacy screen as you changed, only the outline of your figure  could be seen through the sheer material stretched across the wood. He’d seen your naked body before, as you’d seen his — several times by now, actually. But he respected the privacy  — appreciated it actually. There was something quite raw about getting undressed in front of someone like this. Something vulnerable.

Something he wasn’t quite ready for.

Realizing he had been staring at that screen and your outline, he sat his bag down on the dresser and began sorting through his things. He heard the soft pads of your feet across the worn floorboards, before the creak of the bed as you laid in it. He turned around with a fake cough, his own night clothes in his pale hands. “May I?” He jerked his head towards the screen.

You simply nodded, turning on your side away from the screen to face the ajar window instead. 

He changed efficiently, tugging on the delicate breezy nightclothes before padding bare feet to place his folded clothes on top of his rucksack. He swallowed thickly as he turned to survey the room, to the large space you left in the double bed — intended for him. 

"I don't bite." You muttered with your eyes still closed. Like you could sense him hesitating. 

He barked a laugh, before moving to his side. "Cheeky pup." He slid into the bed, savoring the feeling of the soft sheets on his skin, the way the mattress hugged his tired and sore body. He hadn't slept in a real bed in ages, in well — he couldn't remember how long. He thought he had gotten used to the small comfort of his bed roll and tent these past weeks, especially when he compared it to the stone floor of Cazador's dungeon and kennels. But remembering the simple luxury of this room and bed would put his tent to shame once he returned to it. His pale fingertips rubbed the soft fabric covering his body, committing to memory. 

You adjusted yourself next to him, moving your pillow in a way that wafted your scent throughout the room. It made his movements stop, frozen as his senses were overwhelmed by you. You smelled sweet and warm — inviting. And it had nothing to do with the scent of your bouquet that usually clouded his mind. Licking his lips, he forced himself to look away from you — instead looking up at the dark ceiling, as the last flickers of the surviving candle in the room began to fade away. 

"Good night, Astarion." You mumbled into your pillow, your voice already sounding heavy with sleep. 

"Sweet dreams darling." He whispered back. 

You had fallen asleep next to each other before, of course — laid out in that forest or on the sands of a beach after wondering off away from the others to have your way with each other. 

This... this was different. 

He couldn’t will himself to fall into a trance. No matter how hard he tried. Instead he was still staring up at the grays and blacks of the dark ceiling, becoming more and more increasingly aware of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeat. 

Only once he had heard them slow down, only once he knew you were in a deep sleep, did he chance looking over to you.

Your face was peaceful, serene as you slept. He wasn’t sure if it was actual moonlight trickling in, or just the cleric Isobel’s protective aura that had cast the blueish white light into the room. But either way it was resulted in Selûne’s power, and even in your sleep you were basking in it. The freckles that marked your checks and nose were almost glittering in the light. The silvery white of your hair shimmering. Your soft lips slightly parted as you dreamed.

Gods, you were beautiful.

Astarion closed his eyes as he was suddenly reminded of his times stuck in those wretched dungeons in the palace. Not what torture or pain he had to endure there. No. For once, that was buried away.

No, instead he recalled what he stared at to get him through those never ending sessions of abuse and torment. 

The night sky through those barred windows. 

The stars, somehow still blinking and winking from him through the city smoke and light. 

And the moon. That beacon of light in the black sky — constantly changing its shape and colour. But it was always there when he needed it to be. When he needed to look up, to be somewhere else, to think of something else — the moon was always there.

Shining. Listening. Understanding.

His eyes opened again, staring again at your tranquil face, your slumbering form curled into the soft bed and sheets.

You were so much more than he had bargained for. A companion blessed with a drop of an actual god’s power. He should have been thrilled — that his plans for protection and well-deserved justice on Cazador was even easier to achieve than he first thought. 

No. Instead he realized he was feeling something else. Something… new.

That even though he had missed the sun, longed for it for two hundred years, delighted in the colours it cast the world in it. That even though he could finally enjoy the sun's beam, and bask in the it's warmth and golden glow. Despite all that, he knew that the sun would never understand him like the moon did.

Oh shit.

He had royally fucked up his plan.

Part II: here

[revyn-moonfox]

BG3 headcanons, companion characters reaction to Tav having their period

I wrote this for my own comfort, so Tav is afab, nonbinary trans-masc. All sfw

Halsin:

Brews herbal teas he knows will help. Sweetens it with honey.

Gathers berrys that have pain-soothing or anti-inflammatory attributes (like rasberries)

Assures Tav that there is nothing to be embarrassed about, and that they are not allowed to think they are holding the others back by resting. Rest is important! And he won't let you continue travelling in pain.

Dysphoria related: Tells Tav about multiple men he treated for period pain, and women he knew that never had periods. Cis, trans, inter, anyway. A period is natural and says nothing about your identity.

Talks about intersex- and trans-animals he knows or surveyed in nature.

Trys comforting Tav by telling them its one of nature's gifts, and sign of bringing life. If Tav is annoyed by that he stops (but maybe will bring it up later again, when Tav feels better and/or their relationships progresses)

Lots of (Bear-) cuddles

Gale:

You wanna be angry about having your Period? Gale is your Man for that. You can rant at him how unfair the world is, and how stupid it is that the body has to go through such pain each time.

He's gonna research the heck out of it. Reading every book he can find on periods, what makes them so excruciating, and how to help with them.

Cooks comforting soups and stews, makes chamomile tea and brings Tav a heated Waterskin

Learns/studys magic for warmth and inner healing

He reads to you. Anything you wanna hear, for distraction and comfort.

Maybe asks Halsin for help

Astarion:

Astarion probably knows before Tav knows, smeeling the blood and noticing the smallest shifts in their body language.

He's gonna be slightly less taunting and provocative as soon as he notices.

He's not gonna ask for his nibble in that time, going hunting for animalblood instead, not wanting Tav to feel even worse with less blood/iron.

Asks Shadowheart if she can perform soothing or even healing magic for Tav.

Tells Tav how handsome they are, if they confide in him with their dysphoric thoughts.

Karlach:

Walking heat-pad

I'll write more another time, right now I'm in a lot of pain and have to sleep a bit. Bb

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion and Tav at the nail salon.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: The city of Baldur’s Gate. Pure ridiculous drabble and fluff.

Rating/Warnings: PG / I don’t really think there’s any spoiler warnings besides brief mentions of places in BG3 I guess / NON-CANON

Word Count: I wrote this on my phone so tbd.

Notes: Okay I KNOW this doesn’t follow lore. But it’s cute, and heavily inspired by an interaction I had with my cutie patootie husband. Simple things make me happy.

“Two manicures, please.” You say to the tiefling attending the front desk.

“Okay, please go pick your color and come back to me when you’re ready.” The hostess responds with an opened-handed gesture toward the wall of nail polishes.

You smile and grab Astarion’s hand, leading him over to the array of polishes. The rogue trails behind you, simply following your lead. He’s never been in a place like this before, and doesn’t have the first clue about what to do. It’s clear he’s trying to go with the flow and simply trust your guidance.

“You can pick a color, if you’d like. Or if you don’t want to do color, you can do a clear coat.” You explain, gesturing to the colored polishes and then lifting a bottle of clear varnish to show him the alternative.

“Hmm.. as it’s my first time, my sweet, I think clear is a good starting point.” He responds, eyes brimming with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. “Though, if I like it… maybe I’ll do color the next time.”

You nod understandingly and then lift up a few different polishes, examining them closely as you aim to choose one for yourself. Perhaps a pale, neutral color… nothing too crazy. Astarion peruses the selection with you out of pure curiosity. While you’re focused on the more muted tones, he’s examining the bottles filled with sparkles and remarkably bright colors.

“Ooh. How about this one, my love?” He asks with a smile, wiggling a tiny bottle filled with a striking, bright shade of lapis.

You stared at the color. It wasn’t in your nature to pick something so… flamboyant. But the look of wonder on his face as he examined the little bottle convinced you to take the leap.

“For you, my Star, I’ll do it.” You respond, grabbing the bottle from the elf’s pale hands as he releases it with a pleased smile.

The two of you return to the counter, and the tiefling ushers you behind the curtain and into a room filled with several stalls for manicures and pedicures.

You two are sat side by side, soaking your hands in small bowls of warm, scented water. Astarion is loving it, and you can’t help but watch his genuine reactions at the new experience. They’re adorable. Another worker comes to you with glasses full of flavored water, and Astarion furrows his brows.

“We didn’t order these.” He says, looking at the glasses in confusion.

You can’t help but giggle, “My heart, they’re complimentary. They come with the service.”

Astarion’s mouth opens and his eyes widen in delighted shock. And then he’s happily sipping his flavored water from a straw as the worker starts to clean his cuticles. The tiny pile of dead flesh and nail clippings that the manicurist collects at the end causes the vampire’s nose to wrinkle.

“If I’d known all that was going on, I would’ve agreed to do this sooner.” He mumbles, eyeing the detritus in disgust.

He always kept his nails trimmed and clean, but this was another level for him entirely. You giggle at his face and then turn to focus on your own manicure, where the worker is painting a second coat of bright blue on your nails.

Before long, the two of you are finished with your services and head out the door with well-wishes. You two walk toward Elfsong Tavern, happy to take your rare day off to relax in the tavern lounge or at the bar. You’re examining your bright nails with interest, as Astarion is running his fingers over the smooth surface of his own shiny nails.

“You know… I never would have picked this for myself, Astarion. But I think I really like it.” You say, smiling at the vampire as you take his manicured hand in your own, interlocking your fingers with his. Astarion lifts your hand closer to his face so that he can intently examine your nails before looking at you.

“Well, of course, my sweet. You should know by now that I have excellent taste.” He gives you a sly smile and a wink, before pressing a quick kiss on your temple.

And really, how could you argue with that?

[alpaca-clouds]

Astarion's Plotline and the Thing About Consent

Let me talk about one thing I find weirdly underdiscussed in the BG3 fandom. Technically this does not only concern Astarion, but also a lot of the other romanceable options. but I see it most discussed with Astarion especially in regard of one thing.

I am not the only person who feels icky about the graveyard sex. Not becasue of the graveyard, but because of the context in which it happens. Aka: Astarion has had the hell of one day. He has confronted his trauma in so many ways, he has almost died, he managed to overcome Cazador, and he actually managed to remain himself rather than becoming Cazador. I absolutely do understand that our dear fanged friend kinda wants to celebrate his freedom by finally having sex just because he wants to have it - but I also understand that for a good chunk... Him wanting to fuck in that scene is mostly him somehow trying to cope and not having learned good coping strategies, right?

However, whenever someone in fandom brings this up, quite often someone will reply: "People who are traumatized are still able to consent, you know?"

To which I - someone with tons of trauma - will just say: "Yeah, they can, but consent is something that happens from both sides."

Now, we will leave out the meta discussion that obviously Astarion, on the basis of being a fictional character in a game, obviously has no agency in either direction, while the player does. But ignoring that and just reading the in-game situation...

Tav, Durge, or whoever of the origin characters might be on that graveyard with Astarion in that scene still also have a right to not consent to it. And yes, say: "Hey, you had a hell of a day, and I am honestly not sure whether this is good for you, and if it turned out not to be I would feel really shitty about that" is actually a valid reason to not consent to have sex with someone.

Even if Astarion does want sex in that scene. Even if it turned out to be actually the thing he needed. The other person in the scene very much still has the right to say: "I am not feeling good about this, I don't want this, at least not now."

I am not saying that your own Tav/Durge needs to not be okay with it. They can be perfectly fine with it and have their kinky graveyard sex. What I am saying is, that not everyone is feeling like that - and that their feelings are valid, too.

And it is weird how some Astarion fans react to this, too. First there is the "but he can consent", to which I will just say: "Yeah, and his partner can also say that they don't consent". And then the people will go: "But he looks so sad if you say you don't wanna have sex with him." Which... I... Folks, for once: He is fiction. But also... Even if he wasn't fictional, he would have to live with it. It is not the job of his partner to fuck him whenever he wants sex. Again: Consent matters. And consent involves at least two people.

Like, folks. I am begging you. Just consider this fact. Consent has to come from everyone.

And I can tell you that at least my Tav in that situation did not feel very comfortable with the whole situation. I mean, this is how I wrote out the scene on the graveyard in my fic version of the evening.

“I think, I’ve been dead for along enough,” Astarion finally muttered. “It’s time to try living again.” He took a deep breath, trying to sort his thoughts, his feelings. Then he took the bard’s hands, smiling at him. “With everything life has to offer.” He did not even think about it much, as he gave his voice a sultry tone, and most certainly he had not expected Tav’s reaction. But the bard twitched just a bit. “Astarion…” He seemed awkward, uncertain. “I…” Astarion was not certain if the bard understood. “I want you. I think I might…” “Stop, please,” Tav whispered. There was a tremble going through his body, and an expression in his eyes, that felt like a dagger in Astarion’s heart. He didn’t understand. What was going on. “Don’t you…” It was hard to speak those words. “Don’t you want me?” He had not intended for his voice to sound as hurt as it did in the end. A sigh. Tav pulled his hands out of Astarion’s, before cupping Astarion’s face with them. “I want you. I do. And you know it. Just not… Not now.” “What is wrong with now?” There was hurt still. And anger. Just a bit of anger over the rejection. “What is wrong with now? I am finally free. I can finally…” “Astarion…” Tav was hesitating once more, before moving in closer, pressing his forehead against Astarion’s. “You have been through a lot today. A lot.” “Yes, I know. I was there, remember?” The sarcasm was back in Astarion’s voice. He tried to pull away, but though gently, the bard held onto him. “Please, look at me,” Tav said. “Let me…” He stopped, before letting go of Astarion. “Can I show you?” Now it was Astarion’s turn to pause. He understood, of course. He understood well. “Alright.” He opened himself up to Tav’s feelings – and they were strong. Warm, consuming almost. A want. A need. Fantasies. All there. And it made Astarion understand even less. “Then why?” “Because if I sleep with you again, I want to be sure that we both are going to feel good about it the next day,” Tav said gently. “And today, I cannot be sure of that.” Those words made nothing any clearer. “I don’t understand.” “Look. Today was so much for you. And I do not even need you to show me your feelings. I can tell like this. The sadness. The pain. You feel guilty, too. About those spawn that are more or less your responsibility. About killing Cazador, too.” “Why would I feel guilty about that?” “Because no matter how much you hated and feared him, you were also dependent on him for two hundred years,” Tav said. He took Astarion’s hands again, pressing them. “And there are probably a lot of other feelings, too.” His thumbs were caressing the backs of Astarion’s hands. He gave a tiny sigh. “Look at me.” Astarion had not even quite noticed that he no longer looked the man in the eyes. But he did now. The same, familiar green eyes. “I do not even trust myself right now,” Tav said. “I know I care about you, deeply. I want you. You have no idea how much I want you. But with all the chaos right now… I do not trust myself enough to say whether this is love or just…” Once more his thumbs so gently went over Astarion’s skin. “Right now, I am mostly worried about you. Because today was a lot. And I know those days. And I know what follows.”

And... It is just something that has to be considered. I mean, I know there are people who romance Karlach but still do not sleep with her, because their character is not ready for that. And that is just the thing. Consent has to come from both sides.

In that it does also not matter whether the player is uncomfortable or whether they have just an idea how their character would feel. For the scene playing out... The romancing partner can say "I don't consent." too.

[astarionsdarkconsort]

So about the "Hmmm" Acsended Apologist Neil dissaproval stream moment.

Hello yes, I'm the person that requested the Streamily autograph signing where I refered to myself as "The no. 1 Ascension Apologist" and I just found out people are talking/fighting about it so figured I'd say my piece here.

For me, the whole thing really wasn't That Deep? I submitted my request literally back in early September, before I even knew about any spawn/ascension drama. It has just taken this long to get it signed and by now the energy in the fandom/streams has really changed. I had requested, word for word "If you can add a "little love" or "my dark consort" before my name I'd like that! I'm the no. 1 Ascension Astarion Apologist. Fantastic voice work!" and now with the past two months of fandom drama and all that, I definitely would have phrased it differently. My friends were jokingly calling me "The No. 1 Ascension Astarion Apologist" and that had become my blog header, so I thought it was just a cute nod to that and the fact that I was requesting ascension-related voicelines. At the time I didn't know what sort of Context that would carry. I like the ascended ending, that's as far as it goes. I don't think it's the superior or correct ending, I totally understand and vibe with it being the more evil of the endings. It fits my Tav well, I thought it was fun. I'm definitely not like an Apologist in the way a lot of people have adapted the word in the fandom.

As for Neil's reaction, I'm not upset by it, which is something I saw was getting said? Like, it's Fine? Kind of funny imo. If anything, I thought he seemed really tired and I felt bad that the cast has all been working so much. He did a nice autograph and wrote what was requested and thanked me for the compliment of his work and we moved on with our lives. Yeah, it felt shitty to see the kind of comments that were coming in, but that was mostly due to me being embarrassed by what I had written and forgotten I had written months ago.

I just feel like this blew up on both sides of the fandom/argument so to speak and I kind of got blindsided by seeing it talked about on other blogs not in a very good light and just wanted to say my feelings on the matter, as I'm the "no. 1 ascended Astarion apologist" that started the whole thing.

[shiranui7]

So... I reached the epilogue party and I have STRONG opinions about what happened in the end. I sacrificed myself turning into a Mind Flyer and destroyed the Absolute. I gave my friends the best endings possible: Wyll, at peace with his father and freed from Mizora, went to Avernus with Karlach, who didn't die and found a way to fix the engine. Gale was freed from the orb, Lae'zel and Orpheus went on their journey to save their people, Astarion got rid of Cazador, Halsin got my help to remove the shadow curse and Shadowheart found out about her true self, rejecting Shar. Everyone I helped during the game wrote me letters to thank me and that was cute. But what did I actually got from all of them?

Astarion: said that he needed time to metabolize the transformation and friendzoned me. Well, ok, let's wait like I did with him. At the party, he asked me if I was still myself. Wtf!? He wasn't rude then and was sorry for what happened to me but..No hugs were offered, despite being my romanced character and he seemed to have decided that I was no longer "lover material". I was distraught as hell.

Lae'zel and Orpheus: weren't physically there but thanked me and swore to remember my deeds. Nice, I can forgive the no hug option.

Wyll: no hug option, just a dialogue about how he's faring in Avernus with Karlach. Meh.

Karlach: happy to see me but immediately commented on my appearance. I can let it slide. Hug option but only if you don't ask her other things. Meh.

Gale: kept making jokes about mind flayers and commented how he was happy to be still himself instead of a damn brain sucker.....pretty insensitive, even though he apologised.

Shadowheart and Halsin: They commented on how much they missed me and offered hugs with no limits. Halsin made me a wooden duck. I hugged them like 4 times each. Best reactions.

Owlbear and Scratch: they recognised me and showed no changes in their demeanour despite my appearance. As always, animals are better than people.

So during our adventure I accepted a blood sucker, two time bombs, a religious fanatic, a brainwashed warrior, a man linked to a Devil and a horny bear dude, but they can't accept ME with a Squid-face? If I were there as my real life self, I would have probably burst into tears and walked away from that farce of a party.

I ended up putting everyone's happiness before mine and what I got in return was getting ostracized. Even in a video game, I still make my real life mistakes. That hurts.😔

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

That's what he said!

I was thinking about what my Tav would have said to Astarion after the Halsin proposition. I was sad to know we didn't have the option to tell Astarion we told him no. I feel like that would have been a great trust bonding moment for them. So i wrote it. Or, I attempted..im not an expert writer.

“You wouldn’t believe the conversation I just had with Halsin.” She says to him in a gossiping tone.  

Astarion laughs loud and openly.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me about this.”

“Did he talk to you about it?” she asks, slightly confused by his reaction.

“I guessed. The man can’t stay quiet about “enjoying the freedom of natures gifts”. Ha ha, I bet he outlaw clothing if he could.”

His pantomime of Halsin calms her nerves.

“Funny you would say that. He did mention something along those lines.”  

An awkward pause hangs in the air.

“Well? Don’t keep me in suspense darling. What was said exactly?”

“Well, He uh,  said that I stirred his heart and he wants more than to just sit by the fire with me.”

The heat was creeping up in her face. It was one thing to have heard it from Halsin, but to repeat it to Astarion had her embarrassed.

He smiles at her.

 “I can’t say I blame him. You are quite unique and alluring, darling. And he’s been eyeing you since the grove if you haven’t noticed.”

She had not. She was so wrapped up in helping everyone with their own plights she didn’t even consider it.   

“So? What was the outcome of this conversation?” He asks, quickly looking at his nails to distract from the anxiety that flashed across his eyes.

She sees it. Her heart hurts with the idea he thinks she might have agreed. He knows me better than that, doesn’t he?

Desperate to erase that look she reaches for her default disarming tool. Humor.

“I told him to stuff it.” she says, crossing her arms and throwing her nose in the air in a haughty manner.

Astarion’s eyes shift to her as he lifts a brow at her sudden change of attitude.

 She smiles wide, nudging him with her elbow. “Get it?! Stuff It. You know, because he’s a bear.”

Astarion rolls his eyes dramatically but smiles despite his attempt to seem annoyed.

“But then...” she says, bringing her index finger to her lips as if deep in thought. “Maybe he thought I wanted him to stuff me…oh no.”

Astarion huffs before leaning in and issuing a warning.

“Best to stay clear of the woods for a bit then.”

Aloria laughs. Pleased to see the anxiety leave his gaze.

“You know I would never do that to you, right?” she asks quietly, throwing every ounce of care into her eyes for him to see.

“If that’s something you want to explore we can. But I’m not making decisions like that without knowing your heart better.”

His face softens at her words for a moment, before darting his eyes past her to check to see if anybody is watching.  

“I know. I was being foolish. But thank you for saying it.”

These types of moments are difficult for him. He loves the adoration she lavishes on him but does not like to share it beyond their own private world. She notices his discomfort and redirects the conversation back to playful banter.  

“I mean, not after all the hard work you put into scent marking me.” she says, closing the distance between them, walking her fingers up his chest and gently tapping the end of his nose.  

His nose scrunches in response.

“What?”

“Halsin said your scent lingers on my skin. He says I smell like you.” She rests her chin on his chest. Her eyes hold his lovingly. 

“I….well..you do tend to steal my shirt to sleep in. It’s hardly my fault.”

Aloria runs the backs of her hands lightly over the fabric of his vest. “Do you know what you smell like?”  

He stares down at her, confused about the odd choice of topic.  “Of course I am aware of what I smell like. I make it myself.”

“No, not your perfume, just you.”  

Astarion’s face scrunches again. “Undead, obviously. What are you getting at?”

Aloria grabs him by the lapels. Quickly lifting on her toes and pulling him forward to bury her nose in his neck and takes an obnoxiously loud snuff of his skin.

Astarion barks out a clipped giggle before clearing his throat and feigning annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

She hums against his throat. “Mmmmm danger, and sweetness and ..wait ..is that a hint of arrogance? Or is that sarcasm?”.

She makes a show of snuffing him again. “Ooo, I think that is definitely sarcasm. Spicy!”

Astarion begins to playfully push her away, but not before she quickly presses her lips close to his ear. Whispering this time so no one nearby can catch what she says.

“You smell like the air after it rains on parched ground. Like the deep earth of a root cellar. Like ancient undiscovered places. Quiet and metallic.  I like it. I like it very much.” Driving the message home by gently running the end of her nose along the edge of his ear.

Astarion’s shoulders drop as he turns his head to catch her eyes as she pulls away. The seriousness of her confession understood under the guise of playfulness. These moments were theirs and theirs alone.

She smiles wide, then smashes her lips against his cheek, kissing him with an audible smack.

He tuts, resuming to push her away and wave her off with a flourish of his hands.

She begins to walk away, but turns, jutting her hip out and running her hand dramatically over her ass and biting her lower lip at him.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.” He says salaciously.

She laughs and walks away to check on the other companions for the night.  

“Hey, what’s burning?!” she shouts loudly watching as Gale scrambles to check the pot that is in fact, not burning.

[roguishcat]

ooooh what is ‘a welcome distraction’???

Thank you for the ask! 💖I subscribe to the idea that Astarion is very much a cat. 🙂 Neil showing the cat that he adopted and commenting on how long it took to gain the said cat's trust was really helpful in terms of understanding what Astarion is likely to do. I'm not saying that I write Astarion perfectly, but watching that live stream helped me to improve.

With that in mind, I started writing and this wrote itself. It's not done, but it's becoming something.

Astarion stretched out languidly on Tav’s bedroll, watching her as she looked through their magic trinkets to decide which ones they could do without. Ever since Gale came to her, confessing everything, telling her of his folly, Tav has taken extra care to set aside an item or two that the wizard could consume.

Now, if this was done out of sense of self-preservation, that would be completely understandable. It would be quite unfortunate for that orb in his chest to get so volatile it would just explode at random. Such a waste that would be. The world would lose its most beautiful creature! And just as he was starting to enjoy his freedom! And he supposed the wizard had his uses too.

Astarion blinked slowly and sighed. As nice as it was to have no one try to murder them for a change, he was getting bored. And his favourite source of entertainment seemed to have no time on her hands for him.

Now that just wouldn’t do.

He moved closer to Tav and lifted his hand to rest on her head, running his fingers through her hair and then lower down to caress the exposed skin of her neck. Astarion knew that he was distracting her, that was the whole point of the gentle, feather-light touches that made goosebumps rise on her exposed arms. And when that garnered no reaction, Astarion lifted himself up to press his chest against her back, snaking his arms around her middle.

“Darling,” he said smoothly, kissing her shoulder, making a move to lift her shirt enough with insistent hands to expose skin and trace slow patterns just above her hipbones, “don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

“As nice as that sounds, I still have to go through all the scrolls and potions.”

“Nice? I can’t promise anything that uninspired,” he scoffed. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning.

“Something wicked, however,” he drawled, his lips almost touching Tav’s ear “that I could definitely provide.”

“Well, as delicious as that sounds, I’m not moving until I get this done. But perhaps you could help?”

“Tsk, you are no fun,” he pouted, lifting a necklace with the tip of his finger. “What’s this one supposed to do?”

“Let me just check… Misty Step.”

“Keeping it,” he would have squirreled it away earlier, but a part of him felt a sick sort of dread at taking something without waiting for permission first. It was almost like a reflex. Not to take without permission, lest he be punished.

“If you want,” Tav shrugged with a smile. “Put it into your pile, it’s that one.”

Astarion inwardly preened when he noted it was one of the bigger piles. He spied a nice bow and two rings perched on top of a set of armour. He supposed getting nice new things was worth an hour of boredom.

It was still a novel concept. Having things of his own. Being given what he needed or simply wanted with no strings attached. And it wasn’t just him that got such treatment. Tav tried her best to make sure that everyone was taken care of to the best of her ability.

Astarion would probably never admit it unless faced with decapitation, but Tav has really started to grow on him. The pleasant manner in which she carried herself, the ferocious way in which she fought, the unwavering loyalty to those she considered friends.

That was yet another novel concept, having friends.

 “Darling, I can’t help but notice that you didn’t choose anything for yourself.”

“I don’t need anything right now.”

That was a lie. Her armour breathed its last when they went up against the goblins to protect the Grove. She could definitely use a new pair of boots too.

“As sweet as you are for thinking of others before yourself, I would rather you not become a pincushion next time we are ambushed. Here,” he picked a set of armour at random, “take this.”

“And Shadowheart will have to do without, I suppose?”

“She’s a cleric. She can heal herself.”

[myers-meadow]

Raphael and/or Haarlep reacting to seeing Tav in the wavemother robes?

The wavemother robe is gorgeous! I'm so amazed at how unique it is and that they gave it to us to wear in the game. I've read a nice fic some time ago, that dealth with Astarion's reaction to Tav wearing it, and the companions fawning over her. Astarion noticed Tav's discomfort and made sure she got to change and was really nice and understanding. Sadly I don't remember who wrote it, but it was a very nuanced take that I was glad to read.

If your Tav likes the dress, and would love to wear it - Haarlep and Raphael would LOVE it on them!! Of course they would. What's not to love? It's shiny, unique, revealing, colourful, a true eye-catcher. Haarlep plays with the fabric that barely covers your legs, darting his fingers underneath it to tease you. Haarlep would match outfits too, if he was able and allowed to. Think of a glistening aqua harness for him, with lots of sparkling chains <3. Raphael would rather have you wear jewelry that signals the bond between you than match himself to your outfit, though - it's a great thing the low neckline leaves a lot of space for an elaborate necklace or harness underneath.

With how old both of them are, and how easily they could surround themselves with nudity (think of Haarlep's harness), I don't think they'd be especially speechless about the showing of skin. They both enjoy it, for sure, but Raphael is enough of a gentleman (or he fancies himself as one, rather), to not comment on it. Would it make their hearts beat faster? Who can tell. Raphael won't ever say. And Haarlep says it regardless of what you're wearing, because making you feel desired is half of the game of seduction.

But what if the dress is a bit much, even for a date?

Useless babble abt my own tav below the cut.

If it's my Tav (Hadewych), Haarlep would coo over her, smooth her out of it, then make the dress disintegrate into smoke. She's not comfortable in a dress that leaves her feeling so unprotected - although she wants to love it, she simply feels out of place in it. It has nothing to do with wearing something revealing, it's more this particular dress and how it frames her body. The colour is too bright, the fabric is strange in how it catches on her skin, she's cold. She simply feels it isn't her. In a blink, Haarlep will have her naked and underneath him anyway <3.

Raphael would rather see her not finnick over clothing, all her attention needs to be on him, not on what she's wearing. So he finds her something else; perhaps before the next date or meeting, she finds a new dress on her bed in the Elfsong - a black one, that emphasises her beautiful broad shoulders, with matching jewelry for her horns.