#so I have to imagine Astarion got up in the middle of the night to steal some of my blood

[thirddoctor]

I knew you killed Alfira if you played as the Dark Urge but I had no idea how mean the setup was going to be lol. almost wish I'd chosen Durge for my first playthrough so I could've gone in unspoiled, since I didn't really have a good idea who all the companions were so I totally would've bought that she was gonna be my cool new bard companion

[meanbossart]

Drizzt Do’Urden s basically a thing from the podcast/live dnd thing that Astarion's player/Voice actor made. Drizzt is a hella famous Drow singer/bard that Astarion is a huge fan boy of and made fanfiction for

EDIT: I know that Drizzt Do'Urden wasn't created for the podcast. I know that he's a ranger. I know that there are 80 books written about him. Good lord.

Was scrolling down my inbox (I'm still taking a little blog break until the new year, I appreciate everyone's patience) but I won't lie this one has been on my mind ever since the topic came up. Do I think the live DnD games are canonical? No, of course not. Neil isn't Astarion's writer and his knowledge about the character is limited to his interactions with said writer in the studio, and otherwise pretty much as valid as anyone else's whos played the game... HOWEVER.

Astarion did have 200 years worth of down-time whenever he wasn't seducing drunks at the pub or getting skinned and prodded on the dungeon floor. I doubt that the guy had the opportunity to hone in crafts or enjoy his hobbies, but Cazador couldn't keep all of them occupied 24 hours a day EVERY day. Astarion was exposed to common culture through the people he interacted with at the bars, he obviously knows who Drizzt Do'Urden is, as showcased in the game itself (he runs a dumb Drizzt joke through himself like a crazy person if you click his portrait enough.)

Anyway, my point is; either before, after, or throughout the process of working through the God's catalogue and begging salvation to each and every one, would Astarion indulge in a little escapism? News, books, folk tales, heroic figures...? Probably. I think most people would. And while he doesn't reveal much about his personal taste in partners, drow seems to be a race that he's fond of, at least aesthetically. He's also mentioned prince-like figures and youth.

I'm just picturing a poor, downtrodden Astarion collapsed in his stinky bunk-bed at night and fantasizing about a deep-voiced, charismatic drow and his big cat, who somehow hear word of the horrific injustices taking place inside a gothic abomination of a palace in the high-town of Baldur's Gate shortly before breaking through Cazador's stained-glass windows, lacerating him in ways far too gory to be in the man's character, before shortly sweeping him off his feet once taken by his unspeakable beauty. I don't think he imagines much of what happens past that point, I doubt Astarion finds himself and Drizzt Do'Urden to have much in common... But he sure has heard that he's handsome.

Would he have run this scenario - however thinly-veiled as a joke - through Dalyria in a particularly slow night, fully expecting her to laugh it off so he could continue saving face, only to instead be met to the most accidentally-patronizing little coo and "You know it's good to stay hopeful!" out of her that made Astarion want to wrap his hands around her throat and strangle her in the middle of that pub? Probably. Did she casually try opening up conversation with him about Drizzt' antics whenever she heard something new about the folk hero? Occasionally. Is it cute? Only as much as it's horrifically sad, LOL.

Anyway. I bet she had a laugh after he brought Do'Urden's juiced up cousin home to meet the family. He's going to hear about this for the rest of eternity.

DU drow gets the "It's just an inside joke that got out of hand" version of the story, and he believes it! Because what about Drizzt Do'Urden could POSSIBLY appeal to his lover, after all.

[mean-girl-astarion]

This post is how I just found out that this used to be Astarion's camp clothes description:

And now I'm just... thinking about Astarion and clothes. Because we all know about the underwear embroidery that did end up in the final release:

These prompt the initial thought of, where on the clothing were these lines embroidered? (Read on for in depth thoughts/ramblings)

For the shirt, was it on the front? The back? The collar? Inside the collar, perhaps? Was it something he meant for everyone to see on the shirt, or tucked away somewhere on the fabric just for him to know about?

I'm inclined to think it would be something just for him. As the post I linked at the top does a wonderful job of examining, he didn't choose to sew this line into his shirt for any pretense or exaggeration of his personality - it was for him. He wanted this quote to be with him, words he felt a connection to. So as far as that goes, I think he would have embroidered the line somewhere not obvious to anyone else, like under the back of or on the inside of the collar.

As for the underwear, this is an entirely different story, isn't it? Because while it's objectively a funny/silly thing to sew into one's underwear, in contrast to the previous embroidery, I think this one was done with others in mind. The quote is something you would expect from Astarion's humor, but I can't help but feel that going as far as to put this on his underwear is also tied into the performance of his personality. So I think this line would be placed somewhere tastefully visible, like just under the waistline of the fabric, whether it be across the front, side, or back.

Think about it, when would he have had time to sew his clothing? I imagine it must have been in those in-between moments, when he wasn't in the middle of doing something for Cazador and he also wasn't actively being tortured. An in-between moment lasting long enough for him to be able to sit and sew, repairing any tears in his clothing, and eventually taking it far enough to embroider quotes into the fabric. Maybe keeping his hands busy and taking care of his clothing when he could granted him the tiniest sense of control in his life as a slave.

My point being, I think all the emotions that surround the situation he was trapped in for 200 years play a role in what he chose to sew into his clothing. Because this wasn't a leisurely hobby he did when the mood struck him, it was something he did when he just happened to find himself with some precious, fleeting moments alone.

"Lamentable is the autumn picker content with plums" is said to be a line from a poem. It provokes real emotion, has deeper meaning. They're words that Astarion read somewhere and didn't want to forget; words that remind him of a part of himself that he didn't want to forget.

"If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky" has a very different tone in comparison, especially considering the fact that Astarion was not bedding anyone in his life by choice. In my opinion, the wording aligns with the mask he wears - the charismatic, flirtatious stranger whose primary objective is to seduce others, even if the overall humor of it does stem from his genuine personality.

But it also makes perfect sense for someone trying to cope with a miserable existence to try and find some humor where they can, doesn't it? I know I certainly cope with humor when I can. Sometimes even when I shouldn't, maybe, but everyone copes differently.

So picture Astarion, feeling used and pathetic after yet another night of the endless cycle of being forced to use his body for other's goals and pleasure, regardless of how much he hates it. He gets one of those in-between moments, so he sews.

Why use the time to embroider his underwear specifically? Looping back to what I suggested earlier, if using his rare in-between moments to care for his clothing gave him a minor sense of control of his life, then maybe sewing something into his underwear provides a sense of control, however small, within the cycle of bedding victims for Cazador. Because as suave and confident as he acts, we know he is actually feeling incredibly vulnerable every time he goes through the motions. No one he bedded actually "got lucky" in any way, because Astarion didn't actually have any bodily autonomy. He was going to bed with people whether he wanted to or not.

So what does sewing this line into his underwear do? It presents an illusion of choice - the false implication that bedding him was a "lucky" encounter; the implication that he often rejects people; the implication that Astarion has a say in whether or not he sleeps with someone. So putting this seemingly silly joke on his underwear, it's something that adds to his performance, but using his own humor in it might be something that helps him pretend that he does have a choice. And maybe, if the person he's with happens to notice the embroidery before he's taken off his underwear, they share a laugh about it, and maybe that final performative detail that he came up with gives him that feeling of being in control of his body. Even if he knows it isn't real, and that it'll be gone in a matter of moments.

Or, you know, maybe it isn't supposed to be that deep, and that's why they ended up not keeping in the shirt's embroidery and instead just kept the underwear one as a throwaway joke. But I personally have a hard time not wondering why Astarion would be sewing quotes into his clothing.

[altacctforastarion]

Omg I loved your underdark fic could i request astarion finally proposing to Tav and some wedding day hcs (maybe some night afternsfw)

Love this! I thought about adding a wedding type thing to the Underdark fic but I was worried about how many time skips I already put in it so I’m so glad you requested this!

Terrified that I misunderstood and you wanted a fic about the proposal and just hc about the wedding, but I wrote both in hc format and now I’m very worried, after finishing and rereading your request after working on this draft for quite awhile….so I really hope you like it and I’m sorry in advance if not.

Warnings: nsfw content at the end, 18+ mdni, sickening fluff.

-I think he’d try to feel you out on your thoughts of marriage. Also I imagine it would take someone else getting married or mentioning it before he even thinks about it because that kind of life never seemed to be in the cards until he got with you. So like obvi he wants forever with you but you already agreed to that and you’ve already built a life together, so I don’t think marriage would be a thing he just thinks about? Not like he doesn’t want it or has something against it, but that seems like a mundane “normal people” thing, and he doesn’t tend to think about those things seeing as the two of you saved the world together and rule over 7000 people together.

-But then like someone gets proposed to and you get so excited about their union. Then one of the spawn starts selling jewelry and the two of you go just to check it out and he sees you looking at an engagement ring for just a second too long and it hits him: the two of you aren’t married and you might want to be.

-He doesn’t know how to ask what you think about marriage. Like, dude knows how to seduce 100%, but being soft? Flirting with someone he’s already with? He cant even tell you you’re the only person he’s ever truly cared for without scoffing at you and ending the conversation in the game. This man can NOT ask you about soft domestic things without some internal struggle of how to and if he should do it. I can see him second guessing whether or not you were actually interested in the rings and stressing about it.

-he can’t find a way to ask. He sends a sending spell to Shadowheart, asking her to bring it up to you in a subtle way when you speak out her next. She responds immediately telling him that you’ve already told her you were hoping he would get the hints you’d been dropping.

-Hints? He’s agonized over this for so long and apparently you’ve been dropping hints this whole time? Outraged he asks her if you’d mentioned anything else, and her response is as detailed as she can be with her allotted 25 words, describing a ring that you’d told her about.

-he knows which one immediately. It’s the one you looked at when you were in the shop, and it dawns on him that you let him see you stare at it, hinting at him. He’s an idiot.

-You leave on an errand and he’s running to that store to buy the ring, swearing everyone in the shop to secrecy.

-He waits to propose. He wants it to be perfect for you, and he spends over a tenday planning.

-One night he wakes you up in the middle of the night and tells you he’d like to take you on a date.

-“Right now?!” “Yes, darling, I can’t take you out in the day so now will have to do. I laid out an outfit for you.”

-the outfit is beautiful and all of it is new, it’s nothing you already had in your wardrobe, he’s clearly made notes on what you like to wear and your favorite colors, and when you look at him you realize he’s gotten himself new clothes as well.

-if you try to ask him about it he just shushes you and urges you to hurry up and get dressed.

-He takes you by the hand and the two of you leave the Underdark, and walk in the forest for awhile before he covers your eyes, leading you somewhere else.

-It’s a beautiful clearing on a cliff that he’s decorated with intricate lanterns, hanging them on strings that he’s tied in the trees. He’s laid out a blanket right in the center with very soft looking cushions. There’s also a basket sitting next to the blanket, and gods, it’s a very nice basket, obviously he’s put a lot of thought into everything.

-When he uncovers your eyes he lets you take it all in, anxiously watching you as you look around and only relaxing when he sees the grin on your face as you turn and reach for him. He kisses you soft and loving and then urges you to have a seat, he’s got other things planned.

-He sits next to you and takes your hands in his, and tells you that today is the day the two of you met, a year ago after you crashed the nautiloid. The two of you laugh and talk about that day for awhile, and he tells you that he never thought his life would be this way, but something seems to be missing.

-You ask him what he means and he just kisses you, and you feel a hand leave yours for a moment before it’s back, holding a small box.

-“We’ve already agreed on forever, but I would love to promise it to you, if you’ll allow it.” He says, opening the box and you don’t even fucking look at the ring before telling him of course you’d allow it, and kissing him.

-when the kiss breaks he’s smiling, wholesome despite the fangs poking through, and his eyes seem a bit watery. You look at the ring and it’s exactly what you wanted, perfect in every way, and he times it from the box, sliding it onto your finger. It fits like it was made for you.

-“I hope Shadowheart was right when she described what you’d wanted, if not we can go back, I’ll get you whatever you want, my love.”

-“It’s perfect. All of this is perfect.”

-A lone tear rolls down his cheeks and the barely contained anxiety breaks as he tells you all about the preparations, his panic, running to the store to get you the ring and how hard it was to keep all of this from you. It’s insanely endearing.

- “But enough of that!” he turns to the basket and pulls out champagne and two glasses, opening it and sending the cork flying off the cliff in front of you with a laugh, pouring it in both glasses. “To us, and getting married.”

—

-The wedding takes quite a bit of planning and work, you both want as many of your friends as possible there for it, almost everyone can travel to you, including various npcs you met in the game and have an attachment to, but Karlach and Wyll can’t leave Avernus, and you don’t really have a way to reach Lae’zel while she travels around.

-Until the day of, of course, when Withers shows up as you’re going over final preparations, with two portals, one for Lae’zel and another for Wyll and Karlach.

-Everyone is ecstatic, all back together for a beautiful wedding, not to mention getting to see what the two of you have been up to in the Underdark.

-I think the two of you would go to the spot in the Myconids colony where you’re up high with the sovereign, and I think the Myconids would be happy to fill the space with music. So like you two are up high and your friends/Astarion’s siblings are seated on the mushrooms that work like a staircase, then everyone else fills in at the big opening before you enter the colony in game. Beautiful area and spacious.

-I think Astarion would be wearing an outfit similar to AA’s epilogue outfit, Spawn Astarion’s fit is lovely on him but it’s very much a “I’m comfortable and happy and settled down” look, and not a wedding day look. The colors would correspond with your choice of colors for whatever you wear, I don’t really see him wanting to wear the opposite color of what you wear unless it’s like a black white kind of thing and I just don’t see him in a tux. However it ends up, you both look amazing.

-Gale or Withers marry you, or maybe the two of you just say your vows to eachother and follow the normal wedding format without anyone else up there, I think Astarion would be happy with whatever you want, he just wants to be with you forever and see you happy.

-He cries, you cry, Karlach sobs, and it ends with everyone cheering and some loud music from the Myconids (you can rip the Myconids absolutely loving tav from my cold dead hands. Like they’re just sick af, beautiful living mushrooms that want to live and protect their people, and you come in and say “yeah I’ll fix all of your issues and you will live in peace” and then you move there and make fucking sure they are safe with your army of spawns. They might not be capable of actual love, but they do care about you and they seem pretty agreeable.)

-The two of you dance up there, in front of everyone and I can see him dipping you over the cliff, just for the thrill of danger, just like old times. It’s a perfect day full of love and friends and family.

—

-As soon as you’re back in your room he’s kissing you, pressing you up against the door and telling you he loves you, lips against you neck as he feels your wild pulse.

-I think both of you are giggling when he pushes you onto the bed, and you laugh as you tell him you need to get undressed before he ruins your clothing.

-When you’re finally naked, after quite a few interruptions (he can’t keep his hands and lips off of you, and you’re just as bad as he starts undressing), he pushes you down again, kissing you slow and just feeling your body against his, grinding down on you with slow hip rolls and holding you tight against him.

-He’s telling you over and over that he loves you, how gorgeous you are, how perfect you are, kissing all over your body and not letting you lift a finger.

-He makes you cum until you’re begging for him to get inside of you, and it’s not even intentional, he just wants you to feel the maximum amount of pleasure, he’s just so fucking obsessed with you.

-When he finally fucks you, it’s slow and gentle, rocking into you while he talks to you, promising forever, meaningful words of praise. He kisses you like every second is being savored, like he’s committing all of it to memory.

-When you cum again, he looks down at you with so much affection it hurts, and he stops moving after working you through it, just staring at you, not even caring about finding his own release.

-You push him then, moving so he’s on his back and you’re on top of him, riding him hard, and that’s doing it for him too, seeing you take your own pleasure with his. His hands caress you, gentle, he just wants to feel you everywhere, to worship you, and you give that same attention back to him.

-The two of you just don’t shut up. A million praises and compliments and I love you’s and honestly you might as well just be saying your vows over and over.

-You don’t sleep that night, basking eachother in attention and just staying up talking.

[starlightweave]

tagged by @oryndoll I yet again tried and failed not to write a paragraph for everyone lol. For my Tav, Isidro Prudencio Aguilar (we always gotta include his middle name bc it's his father's and also he's a patriar like that lol)

Astarion: Playing as Isidro is somehow the only time I got the prompt to persuade Astarion to say “please” about sleeping w/ Tav at the tiefling party - followed by the “I'm just kidding, no way Astarion” 😂 So he kinda ignores Astarion and his snippy attitude at Isidro's sense of justice, but returns his flirting and then curves him for the hell of it lmao. But Isidro feels responsible for Astarion's suffering in a way because Isidro feels that as a paladin he should’ve known about Cazador. He’s livid that he has existed right under the city’s nose for centuries. He's very irritated by Astarion's selfishness tho, and as Astarion's fear sets that selfishness into overdrive in Cazador's dungeon, that’s probably the most patient Isidro has ever had to be in his life, trying to get Astarion to stop smothering to death that little bit of goodness he has left. He's incredibly proud of Astarion, and proud to be his friend, when he resists the ritual. They do stay sporadically in touch, and Astarion definitely likes to show up uninvited to Waterdeep to bother him and Gale 😂 He throw himself as the wild card into their boyish mischief and games against each other, one moment helping Isidro tease Gale, the next moment doing a 180 and helping Gale get one over on Isidro 😂

Gale: already wrote a little post about them. Isidro loves Gale 🥺 he really sees Gale as his brother. Their friendship is what helps Isidro start to return to his old self, and by the time of Gale's act 2 starry night scene, the two of them have become insufferable to the rest of the camp in their boyish mischief. Looking at them you'd never guess they weren't friends since childhood. Their friendship is one of the most powerful things that stops Isidro from committing suicide after he is unable to save his father after they return to Baldur's Gate. As mentioned in the linked post, he can't stay in Baldur's Gate after all that happened and so goes to Waterdeep with Gale, and  engages in CONSTANT fucking shenanigans in Gale's tower 😂 

Halsin: What do I even say about these two 🥺. Halsin loves Isidro. Isidro cares deeply for Halsin, but after all the horrible shit that happened to him and his family, he’s too broken right now, he cannot return the full depth of Halsin’s emotion. They do end up kinda together during act 3 tho because Isidro, as an unhealthy, impulsive distraction, decides to sleep with the drow, and Halsin is like mind if I join B)? Cue a super embarrassing session for the drow bc it’s like they’re not even there, Halsin and Isidro are SO into each other 😂. They are two people who bring incredible comfort to one another during this really horrible time. Isidro of course has brought Halsin great comfort by reuniting him with Thaniel, and the great compassion and sense of righteousness Isidro moves through the world with is inspiring to Halsin. It’s deeply important to Halsin to stop Isidro from drowning in this sea of burdens he has dove head first into. He does bring incredible comfort to Isidro, who struggles with being cared for because he believes, as an oathbreaker, he does not deserve it. He gets better throughout act 3, with Halsin’s (and Gale’s) persistent help being truly life saving. Isidro doesn’t go with Halsin post-game because it’s not where he belongs; Halsin understands that Isidro and Gale are about as inseparable as Oliver and Thaniel lol so bids him no ill will ofc. Isidro spends a couple months with Halsin after the epilogue, much healed since act 3, and thinking now, maybe, he would like to go back to Waterdeep and try again to have a family, as he once wanted. A little part of Halsin is sad to see him go, but I cannot imagine Halsin feeling much besides happiness that Isidro is healed enough to live beyond what happened to him. Their relationship can really be summed up as: “Wish me joy, my liege-lord and healer!” “I have wished thee joy ever since first I saw thee. It heals my heart to see thee now in bliss.” (Eowyn and Aragorn from LOTR :3). They remain lifelong best friends ofc 🥰

Jaheira: Ofc Isidro fucks with THE legend. He also genuinely thinks she’s beautiful, with incredible eyes and a touch of something exotic about her (you ever see her BG2 portrait? She looks like a sexy alien). If they met under different circumstances he absolutely would’ve tried to hit that. I love how when talking about the life extension ritual, you can say you want her to stay beautiful~ and she’s like oh should i bat my eyelashes? Get the fuck outta here. Idisro responds like “Jaheria, I meant it, you are very beautiful.” “*scoff* Is one druid not enough to sate your appetite!?” 

Karlach: His buddy. His bro. I cannot tell you how much it hurts Isidro to not be able to help someone, especially someone who he has come to love so much 😭. Karlach actually heard of Isidro when she was a teeanger – rumors of some exoticly beautiful redheaded paladin of Helm who went around righting wrongs in the Outer City. She’d heard he was a patriar but didn’t believe that part; she’s shocked to discover that was the truth. Learning Gortash is responsible for her suffering; since his family’s murders at the hands of Banite cultists, Isidro has serious problems controlling his rage, and now knowing THE Banite himself is responsible for all of beloved Karlach’s suffering…let’s just say Gale has to cast hold person on him when they meet Gortash lol.  I like to think once she comes back to Faerun, Auntie Karlach comes to visit his and Gale’s families (who gets married to Silme no matter who the Tav is)

Lae’zel: Complicated at first as it is with most Tavs I think; Isidro is really irritated by her callousness and belief that she should be in charge because she’s a gith, meanwhile he has a decade plus of combat experience on her lol. He really feels for her in the creche though :( They grow closer as she becomes her own person outside of Vlaakith. Maybe he doesn’t consciously see it at the time, but I think he is influenced by someone else having their entire life ripped violently out from underneath them, yet not giving up, and building a new one. He watches he fly off on that red dragon, silver sword on her back, proud to know her. He is very proud of how she’s grown as a person when he hears at the epilogue that she is Lae’zel the diplomat!!

Minthara: a drow, a (former) worshipper of Lolth, now Absolute cultist – this is Isidro’s mortal enemy lol. He thinks he should be glad to see her on trial, should be glad they’re going to erase her mind, but instead his instinct is to protect. Maybe he understands better now that all that’s separating him from being in her shoes is luck, the luck of stumbling across Shadowheart and the artifact. Maybe he feels, after what he’s done – becoming an oathbreaker by killing an innocent in his panic to find the Banite cult and save his father – he is in no position to judge her for whatever she did as a drow. It’s complicated bc shawty is bad, like, morally lmfao, and he really gets tight whenever she tells him to control the brain, but Minthara is also not a typical drow. She is in fact morally better than most drow (but still in a very drow way, like instead of ignoring the poor as beneath her she’s like let’s make them slaves so they dont starve lol). Other than any other Withers arranged gatherings, idt they would keep in touch as Isidro will forever be grateful for her help, but if they met in the wild again he would probably be obligated as a paladin to kill her 😅

Shadowheart: her Shar worship is A PROBLEM in act 1 lol. He never misses a chance to point out that this is a fucking cult and she is SO BRAINWASHED. The Shadowfell is really hard for him – he knows she has been questioning her faith, but here, in the seat of Shar’s power, that conversation seems very, very far away. He decides to leave the decision up to her, but is ready to intervene and save Aylin. But I think he would phrase it like, if you’re going to kill someone who is bound and defenseless, you better look her in the eyes and know who you are killing. I think that might make Shadowheart hesitate just half a second long enough for Aylin to jump with the I can tell you who I am but do YOU know who YOU are, little Sharran? They become close friends after she rejects Shar, and they discover they are both on the same quest: saved their kidnapped families from an evil cult. Her family reunion is very beautiful but also very difficult for him – this what he hoped for with his father, but his father died in his arms. So yeah he is ugly gross crying with a lot of emotions 😭. They of course remain friends; I think he and Gale would try to bring Scratch to visit her at the cottage when they could :3

Wyll: His little buddy :3. Isidro knows who he is immediately – he sees the family resemblance right away, and vaguely recalls meeting Wyll when he was a kid. Wyll certainly remembers meeting Isidro’s sexy, exotic ass in passing a few times when he was little. I think he has a little crush on Isidro during act 1, although the lines are blurred between a crush and intense admiration for someone who has spent the last ~15 years serving an oath of devotion. Isidro out of all my Tavs is most concerned with getting Wyll out of this pact. Isidro destroyed his own soul to try and save his father (who is still kidnapped at the time Mizora shows up looking to make the pact for life); he begs Wyll not to do the same. He cannot see anyone else suffer the same fate as him – what has he suffered for if it has not stopped others from meeting similar fates? He’s definitely ugly gross crying with a LOT of emotions when Wyll and his dad reunite 😭

The Emperor: Neutral at first; Isidro understands the guardian is keeping him free of the Absolute, and although he doesn’t exactly trust it, he’s like well we have to be allies. However. Isidro eats tadpoles throughout act 1 and early act 2; he already ripped his soul apart becoming an oathbreaker, so what does it matter? Whatever makes him stronger to get back to Baldur’s Gate faster and save his father, right? He only stops after the act 2 scene with Gale, where they both find renewed hope and value in themselves. Sooooooo when the Emperor throws the astral tadpole at Isidro, which Isidro then has to force himself to resist, and then Empy STILL pushes Isidro to use it, that’s when he becomes Isidro’s Top Fucking Opp!!!! Gale and Halsin both casting hold person on Isidro to stop him from smiting Empy in that moment lol because he’s like you saw me HARMING myself eating these things and now you’re PUSHING me to use an even worse one!? And then when Empy later threatens to forcibly make Isidro “embrace his potential” later in Act 3, Isidro has to stop himself from trying to smite the prism 💀 Like Empy maybe don't piss off the powerful paladin guy with serious anger issues whom you have seen literally punch his fist through people 💀💀

[unreadpoppy]

Truth (Halsin x Gwendolyn Gray)

Read on AO3

Summary: Halsin wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Gwen is drinking.

A/N: basically Gwen's backstory explained from her perspective. Also this was written on the notes app so the paragraphs are a bit weird

Halsin had been removed from his transe due to a nudging in his hand. Opening one eye, he saw Scratch next to him, whining, his body tense. 

“What’s wrong, boy?” Halsin asked, scratching the dog’s head. Scratch looked towards the door, and whined again. Frowning, the druid left his bed, looking around the room. 

The room they had rented at Elfsong was spacious but not big enough to provide privacy. Scanning around, he quickly noticed that Gwen was nowhere to be found. 

“Wait here. I’ll go find her.” He told Scratch and made his way out of the room. It didn’t take long to find the tiefling, as she was sat in one of the corners of the tavern, a drink in hand. 

“If you keep doing this, you’ll drink yourself to an early grave, Gwen.” He said, as this wasn’t the first night that she was found with a bottle and stinking of alcohol. 

“Leave me be.” She groaned. Halsin sighed, putting his hand on his hips, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t with the party when it happened, only hearing half the story from Astarion. What he knew was that while exploring the city, Gwendolyn had found a family member of hers. Ever since then, Gwen was drinking. 

She rolled her eyes when she realized that the druid wasn’t going anywhere. “If you’re going to stay here, you might as well make yourself comfortable.” Looking at an empty chair, she said “Sit.” 

He did so, and stayed silent. Halsin wanted to know what was happening, but he was afraid that if he asked, she would push him away. 

And so the two stayed there, in silence. Minutes passed, and once the bottle had come to an end, Gwen spoke up. “For eighteen years, all I had was my mom.” Were the first things she said. Halsin sat straighter in his chair. 

“All I had was her, and the small cabin in the woods we called home.” Gwen didn’t look at him, only staring ahead, a distant look in her eyes. “You can imagine my surprise when I come to Baldur’s Gate only to discover I have an uncle.” She turned to look at him. “He told me about our family. That I have grandparents, and cousins. That my mom came from a rich family, that I-“ her breath got stuck in her throat, and Gwen looked down, a hand on her forehead. 

Halsin reached forwards, covering the hand that was on the table with his, a silent comfort. 

Gwen shook her hand, removing her hand from under his. “Mother always said I was the greatest gift she ever received, the very reason she kept on going. Now I know that to be a lie.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him. “I was no gift, or blessing, Halsin. I was a curse to my mother, and I’ve been ruining her ever since I was born.” 

Halsin frowned, inching closer. The tears on her eyes fell down her cheeks, and he wiped them. “What does this mean?” He found the courage to ask. 

Gwendolyn shook her head, taking a deep breath. looked at Halsin’s eyes, trying to still herself. “Growing up, mother told me that I had been a happy, little accident. She met a man, they laid together and soon I was born. Told me she didn’t have a family and that’s why we were alone, and that the world was too dangerous for me to be walking around.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “But then, when I came of age, she told me who my father was. A cambion, Halsin.“

That Gwendolyn was a warlock, everyone knew. That her patron was her father, however, was news to the druid. Suddenly, her recent behavior began to make sense. 

He had seen how the tieflings from Elturel had suffered a lot just by being distant descendants from the devils. He could only wonder how it would feel to know that one was so closely related to the Hells. 

Halsin moved his chair even closer to hers, placing a hand on her back and rubbing it, as more tears feel down from her eyes. 

“I know this is a lot of information to process, but your heritage changes little of how others will see you.” 

Gwen shook her head. “It’s not that I’m worried about.” 

Halsin frowned. “I apologize, then.” His gaze softened.  “Please, tell me what ails you, so that I can help.” 

“I think I’ve said this before. My mother was paranoid. She was always afraid that something, someone wou-would harm us. But there was more.” Gwen’s voice faltered. “Many nights, mother would scream in her sleep, as if she was in terrible pain. She’d wake up with burn scars and scratches all over her body, with no explanation. By night, they would be gone, only to return again. I didn’t understand it then but my uncle told me everything.” 

She straightened in the chair, gathering her thoughts. While Gwen composed herself, Scratch had appeared. Halsin must have left the door open, but that didn’t matter, as the dog placed his head on the tiefling’s lap. That seemed to have helped Gwen a little, as she finally spoke. 

“She was fascinated with magic, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t conjure the Weave. So, she reached out to a devil, seeking a deal. And that’s how she found my father.” Gwen looked down, petting the dog. “The deal was simple. She’d be his warlock, with unlimited powers, and in exchange, she would have to sacrifice her firstborn to him.”

“But mom didn’t have any romance going on in her life, she wouldn’t get pregnant any time soon, so the devil offered himself to father the child.”

As Halsin connected the dots, his face fell. Gwen hadn’t been an accident. Her parents had had her with one goal in mind. If her mother had gone with it, she wouldn’t be here today. 

“My mother didn’t even name me when I was born. She tried to distance herself, so that…. That the sacrifice could be easier but when the time came, she couldn’t do it.” Gwendolyn began crying again. “She couldn’t do it, Halsin, and for that, she paid the price. He tormented and tortured her in her sleep, he gave her terrible visions of death and gore and that’s why she was so scared of the world.” With one last inhale, Gwen finished the story. “My mother devoted her life to raising me, she let go of her dreams, of her mind, she was hurt just to make sure that I would live. And me, great daughter that I am, do what? I sign my soul away to the devil that ruined her life.” 

With that, Gwendolyn threw herself in Halsin’s chest, crying heavily. The druid wasn’t sure how to react, but he knew that, right now, there wasn’t much that could be done. 

He stayed there, holding Gwen in his arms,  his hand on her hair, trying to soothe her. They stayed like that for minutes, Scratch sitting in between the two. When Halsin felt Gwen beginning to calm down, he stood up, carrying her back to their room. He tucked the tiefling in bed, the dog quickly jumping and making himself comfortable near her feet. Halsin placed a kiss on her forehead, and made his way back to his own bed. 

[whatacaitastrophe]

Everything Has Changed - Chapter 11

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Seven Nation Army" - Stevie Howie

Chapter Warnings: Idiots talking about their feelings.

Spotify Playlist: Here

Author Notes: thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! if you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link <3

i also have a discord server! it was created to coincide with my twitch channel but you do NOT need to follow/subscribe/watch my twitch streams to come hang out with us <3 we talk a lot about bg3 and share memes and fics.

Chapter 11: Talkin' to Myself at Night

The night of what she’d started referring to as “the incident” in her mind, Fallon didn’t sleep. Her mind was too busy. It was one thing to imagine her boyfriend and ex-boyfriend kissing, or imagine herself as the middle portion of a vampire and sorcerer sandwich, but it was another entirely for those fantasies to become a reality. Add in the fact that “the incident” in question occurred without her consent, and Fallon was left feeling truly unsure of how she felt, or if coming to some sort of arrangement with Astarion and Gale was something she even wanted anymore. 

Fallon felt betrayed, and not just by Astarion. Gale swore that he never wanted to hurt Fallon again, and it took him less than a month to break that promise. Not only that, but once upon a time, Gale told Fallon that he was only interested in monogamous relationships. Fallon also knew that if the situation were reversed, and she were the one kissing Astarion without Gale’s consent, that Gale probably would have broken up with her on the spot upon catching them. The hypocrisy was rampant, and the hole in her heart that began to fill after rekindling her friendship with Gale was leaking again because of it. All of the reasons Fallon told herself that she couldn’t open her heart to Gale again (beyond the sexual relationship with Gale and Astarion she’d already fantasized about) were completely validated less than twenty-four hours after she’d even realized it was something she might want.

Then there was Astarion: the man who’d seen how fragile her heart was, glued the pieces Gale broke back together, promised to take care with it, and then promptly dropped it on the ground to shatter at the first opportunity. When she first met Astarion, he’d been all honeyed words of affirmation with a perfectly crafted persona to entice Fallon and the rest of their companions into trusting him as a method of survival. Was that still all she was to the vampire? A means to an end to ensure he survived another day? Had Astarion been playing the long con this whole time, and Fallon fell for it? Deep down, Fallon knew this wasn’t true; that Astarion loved her fiercely and genuinely. However, the logical part of her that knew this was currently being completely overpowered by her insecurities and anxieties, both of which were screaming at her for being stupid enough to trust that Astarion would keep his promise. 

It all hurt, and the thing Fallon hated the most was that the person she would normally go to when she was hurting was the source of her pain. She thought about using her sending stone to contact Shadowheart, or Karlach, but Fallon could hear her friends’ voices in her mind already. 

Shadowheart would tell her to go home– to go back to Baldur’s Gate and leave the vampire and the sorcerer to suffer the consequences of their actions and reflect on what they lost simply because they forgot to use their brains. “If they’re stupid enough to make that mistake, then they deserve each other, and certainly do not deserve you.”   

Karlach, on the other hand, would probably jump straight to murder. Murder wasn’t usually Karlach’s go-to method of solving problems. Unless, of course, someone she cared about got hurt. With how happy-go-lucky Karlach was most of the time, it was easy to forget that the tiefling-turned-illithid once served in Zariel’s army, and that she killed a lot of people on Zariel’s behalf. “Say the word, soldier, and I’ll meet you in Waterdeep, sneak up on them in an alley, and make their deaths look like an accident.”  

The solutions her friends would likely offer Fallon were not actually reasonable, or helpful, because they were just different forms of taking the easy way out, of running away from her problems. In the end it wouldn’t solve anything, and the person that was most likely to suffer most would still be Fallon. After all, how she felt about Astarion hadn’t suddenly changed in the wake of everything. How she’d started to feel about Gale again hadn’t gone away. Walking away from the two halves of her heart would do nothing but break her further. 

At the end of the day, Fallon wanted to give Gale and Astarion the benefit of the doubt. She wanted to believe that “the incident” had been as unexpected and unplanned as they said it was. She wanted to believe that Astarion and Gale actually cared as deeply for her as they claimed. 

Most importantly, she wanted them , and at the end of a sleepless night into a restless morning, that was where Fallon’s mind landed. The men who claimed to love her so deeply would get a chance to prove their love, but she would make them work for it. There would be no glossing over their infidelity and jumping right into a conversation about what being “together” as a threesome would look like. No, she fully intended to make the vampire and the sorcerer squirm, and to sit with the consequences of their actions for a while; to make them see earning her forgiveness was not as simple as saying “Sorry, it was an accident, we love you!” 

Fallon slipped out of the inn in Daggerford as soon as she was certain the shops were open, and purchased her own tent, as she had no intention of sharing one with Astarion for the next three days while they made the final leg of their journey to Waterdeep. Fallon knew herself, and having Astarion that close would increase the opportunity for her to have a moment of weakness, to fold too soon. 

When she returned to the inn with her new tent slung over her shoulder in a bag, Astarion and Gale were in the tavern, where the latter was eating breakfast. Astarion noticed her enter the tavern first, and he nudged Gale, nodding in Fallon’s direction. Gale looked at Fallon hopefully as she made her way towards the table. Fallon did not sit down as she observed the two men. They both looked tired, and Fallon did not even feel bad about the fact that knowing they slept like shit too brought her a little bit of joy. 

“I’ve decided I’ll be sleeping in my own tent for the next couple of days.” She explained, acknowledging the bag over her shoulder. Astarion’s eyes flickered sadly as he realized they were not forgiven yet, and that his actions would cost him more than a single night without Fallon in his arms. 

“What you did, what it means…Quite honestly, just looking at the two of you hurts. You don’t get to treat me like that and expect me to carry on like nothing happened, even if the idea of the three of us being an “us” is something I want to talk about. I refuse,” Fallon’s voice was cold, and she could feel her throat threatening to close up as tears welled in the corners of her eyes. Gods dammit, she was not going to cry in the middle of the fucking tavern. She furiously blinked back her tears, averting her gaze from Astarion and Gale since looking at them was just making it worse. “I need more time. When I’m ready to talk, I’ll come to you. Be ready to leave in an hour.” She did not stick around to see them silently nod their heads as they agreed to her terms, or the way that they guiltily looked at each other because they made her cry (again). 

Fallon did not speak to Gale or Astarion unless absolutely necessary for the next three days. In fact, a passerby would have assumed that somebody had cast a Silencing spell over their group, with how quiet their journey from Daggerford to Waterdeep was. Fallon’s silent treatment made Gale and Astarion hesitant to even speak to each other in her presence, and while Fallon hadn'tt asked them to do that, if they wanted to deprive themselves of verbal communication until she was ready to speak to them both as some form of self-punishment, she also wasn't going to correct them.

At night, after she retired to her tent for the evening, Fallon often heard them talking to each other in hushed tones as she drifted off to sleep. Each conversation was entirely about her, how terrible they felt for hurting her so badly that she was still ignoring them, and when they thought she would speak to them again. 

“I didn’t think it was possible for her to be quiet for this long,” Gale muttered to Astarion on the eve of the third day. “How much longer do you believe this will last?”

“I’m not sure, but if she didn’t deign to speak to us for another fortnight, would you blame her? I consider us lucky that she’s even considering speaking to us again at all,” Astarion countered, sighing heavily, and Fallon smiled softly to herself as she listened. “We’ll reach Waterdeep tomorrow, so maybe she’ll be ready to talk once we get to your tower?” 

“I hope so,” Gale said wistfully. “Speaking of which, I got a hold of Tara. Everything should be ready when we arrive.” 

“Excellent. Gods, I hope this works. I wouldn’t blame Fallon for ignoring us for another fortnight if she wished, but that doesn’t mean I want her to. I didn’t realize it was possible to miss someone you see every day.” 

Though Fallon could have guessed that Astarion missed her (probably Gale, too) by the way they looked at her whenever she’d grant either of them any brief acknowledgement in the last three days, it was still nice to hear the vampire say it out loud. Giving Astarion and Gale the silent treatment had been harder for Fallon than she thought it would be, because every time she acknowledged them, the hopeful look on their faces, the optimistic thought that, perhaps, the worst of her hurt and anger might be over, nearly broke her resolve. Not speaking to them unless absolutely necessary had also made Fallon miss them , too. By the time they rode through the city entrance to Waterdeep, the deepest parts of the hurt Fallon felt because of their actions had passed. The pain wasn’t completely gone, but the idea of talking to Gale and Astarion about it didn’t reduce her to tears anymore. That was Fallon’s internal sign that she was ready for this conversation, and perhaps, to begin down the path to forgiveness. 

The City of Splendours was just as beautiful as the name would suggest, and Fallon was actually starting to think that Gale had somehow managed to undersell his hometown. She couldn’t help but watch Gale’s face as he took in the city as they passed through the streets. Fallon couldn’t remember the last time she saw Gale look so happy. In fact, Fallon wasn’t entirely sure she’d ever seen Gale as happy as he was in that moment. 

Gale looked back at Fallon, still beaming as they rode beside each other. “If you’ll allow me to take the lead, I will escort us to my tower.” She nodded, pulling back on her horse’s reins slightly so Gale could pass, and even that small acknowledgement made Gale’s smile so much brighter. Of course, finding Gale’s tower wouldn’t have exactly been difficult even if she and Astarion had been on their own. The ornate tower was centrally located, and arguably one of the tallest buildings she could see. To her surprise, there were people waiting to take their horses to a nearby stable when they arrived, and a small bit of sadness filled Fallon as she kissed her own horse’s nose for the final time, at least until they returned. It wasn’t like the horses could go through the portal to Asha with them, and no matter how long they remained in Waterdeep, Fallon had a feeling they’d mostly walk. 

The quiet filling the air as Fallon, Gale, and Astarion entered the landing level of Gale’s tower was a different kind of silence to the one they’d been sitting in for the last several days. Fallon and Astarion were in too much awe to speak, and Gale was just so happy to be home that he looked like he was trying not to cry. “It’s beautiful, Gale.” Fallon said softly as they ascended the stairs to the next level, where Tara was waiting for them in the sitting room. 

“Mr. Dekarios! It is so lovely to see you sir, you’re looking much better than you were the last time I saw you– even if you still haven’t shaved that horrid thing on your face. Nice to see you both again, too.” Tara greeted them. 

“Hi Tara.” Fallon giggled, not able to help herself. She remembered Gale lamenting about how much the tressym hated his long hair and scruffy face, but Gale liked it, so it stayed. Fallon liked it, too, so she was glad that Gale’s companion hadn’t managed to bully him into getting rid of it.

Gale sighed, but the smile on his face never faded as he shook his head at Tara. “It’s lovely to see you as well, Tara. I’ve missed you,” he squatted down so he could scratch beneath the tressym’s chin. When he stood again, he clapped his hands together. “Is everything in order?”

Tara hopped onto the back of the sofa. “Everything is in order and still on schedule,” she confirmed, and Fallon looked back and forth between Gale and Astarion with a curious look on her face. “Is what in order?” It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Tara was referring to whatever plan Astarion and Gale concocted to get back in her good graces, but there was a schedule? 

Astarion removed his facial covering now that they were indoors again, and he gave her a sly look in reply. “You’ll find out soon enough, darling, but I’m afraid you’ll need to remain in the dark just a bit longer.”

Gale’s look matched Astarion’s, and suddenly Fallon found herself regretting putting the two of them in a situation to conspire against her. “Indeed. On that note, I’m afraid we have to kick you out for a bit,” Fallon frowned as Gale continued. “Not to worry, though! Tara has agreed to act as your guide while you explore the city”

Fallon opened her mouth to argue– she’d really been looking forward to just taking a bath and mentally preparing herself for the conversation she intended to have with the vampire and the sorcerer standing before her; but before she could say anything, Astarion cut her off as he reached into his pocket for a small satchel that had the telltale jingle of coin inside, offering it to her. “I realize we’ve not given you much of a reason to trust us recently, but I promise you won’t regret it. Please.” His eyes were soft and pleading, the closest to a puppy-eyed expression Fallon had ever seen Astarion make. Gale was already rubbing off on him. 

If they really went this far out of their way to plan something for her, the least she could do is play along. Fallon let out a resigned sigh and nodded. “Lead the way, Tara.” She gestured to the door and relief washed over Gale and Astarion’s faces, the latter looked like he’d kiss Fallon if she let him. The tressym hopped down from the back of the sofa and made her way towards the door. “This way, miss Fallon.” Fallon nodded in goodbye to Astarion and Gale, smiling softly at them, and she followed Tara out. 

Once back outside the tower, Tara hopped up onto Fallon’s shoulder, causing the elf to let out a noise of surprise. “Forgive me, miss Fallon, it’s just easier to travel like this– I fear you’d lose me rather quickly otherwise. Our first stop isn’t far.”

“First stop?” Fallon asked warily.

“Oh yes, this is a multiple-stop outing, miss Fallon. Astarion and Mr. Dekarios gave me explicit instructions.”

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” Fallon mused as she weaved through the streets of Waterdeep, Not a single passerby seemed to be surprised to see a tressym sitting on her shoulder, which meant things like this were just…normal here. She followed Tara’s instructions as she took in her surroundings. 

Fallon didn’t know why it surprised her so much, but their first stop was a bookshop. She should have known, since this was an outing at least half-planned by Gale Dekarios. The shop was quiet, with only around twenty or so other patrons milling about and browsing books. “Hello, Norbert!” Tara greeted someone as they entered. The halfling sitting on a high top stool behind the counter looked up from his book, and as soon as he saw Fallon and Tara, his face brightened. “Ah, Tara! I was wondering when you’d be by. Let me go grab your order.” 

The halfling slid from his stool and disappeared into the back of his shop. “Tara, did Gale send me out with you to run his errands?” She laughed.

“Technically, yes, but also no. We’re not here for an order for Mr. Dekarios.”

Confusion etched across Fallon’s features. “Are we running your errands?” 

“Goodness, I thought Mr. Dekarios said you were a bright woman,” the tressym chastised, and Fallon frowned. “He placed an order for you, dear.” 

Fallon’s face immediately softened, and her heart swelled in her chest. Of course Gale would use books as a means of re-gaining favor with someone. The halfling returned with a small stack of books in his hands, and Fallon immediately recognized the book on the bottom of the stack just from its spine. She waited patiently for the halfling to set the books on his counter before touching them. “Here you are, all present and accounted for.” 

Fallon reached for the books and began scanning the titles– the first three were all romance novels, but the last book in the stack made Fallon gasp. It was a first edition copy of the book about the boy wizard. How had Gale managed to find this? The book was printed almost twenty years ago. Fallon carefully opened it, and a folded piece of parchment slipped out, fluttering to the floor. Tara jumped onto the counter as Fallon bent down to retrieve it, and she realized it was a note, addressed to her. Fallon unfolded the parchment and recognized the neat, precise script with which it was written. 

“ Dearest Fallon, 

As you know, when we met, one of the first things that drew me to you was our shared love of literature. Once upon a time I recommended three romance novels to you, and promised to procure copies for you after we saved the world. These are a bit delayed on delivery, seeing as we saved the world two years ago at this point, but I do hope you enjoy them all the same. I’d planned on taking you to this shop to purchase copies for you once we arrived in Waterdeep anyway and then, well, you know what happened. 

You’ve obviously read the last one in the stack, but you mentioned Astarion has been hogging your copy, so I had Norbert find another for you. Admittedly, I was quite surprised when he told me that he had a first edition copy in his stockroom! What a treasure, indeed, just like its new owner. 

I realize that it might seem like I am trying to buy your forgiveness, but I can assure you that is not the case. I would have bought them for you anyway, because you deserve to start doing things you enjoy again, after spending so long sacrificing yourself and your needs for the greater good. Though I do look forward to (hopefully) hearing your thoughts on the romance books once you’ve finished them. They’re quite riveting. 

Yours, 

Gale”

Fallon’s smile grew wider and wider as she read Gale’s not. The sorcerer might not have been trying to buy her forgiveness, but it was definitely helping. “Thank you, Norbert. These are lovely. I can’t wait to read them.” 

The halfling beamed at her. “Enjoy! Gale has excellent taste, so I doubt you’ll be disappointed.”

Tara jumped back onto Fallon’s shoulder. “Tara, do we have time for me to browse for a bit, to see if I find anything else I might like?”

“We do! Mr. Dekarios had a feeling you might want to browse,” Tara confirmed, and Fallon smiled. “He said to tell you to pick out whatever you’d like, and Norbert will put it on his tab.”

Of course Gale had a tab at his local bookshop, Fallon was not even surprised. She spent the next half-hour browsing the shelves and managed to limit herself to two additional books. After all, Gale already bought her four and she didn’t want to seem like she was taking advantage of his kindness (and his desire to get back on her good side). With her books stashed in her bag of holding, Fallon exited the shop and looked around. “Where to next, Tara?” 

The next shop they visited was a dress shop, and Fallon did not even need to ask which man instructed Tara to bring her here. Just as Norbert had, the elven woman running the shop recognized Tara, and she immediately greeted them both with a bright smile as she pulled a note out of a drawer on her side of the counter. Once again, the note was addressed to Fallon and was written in a familiar, elegant script.

“Fallon, my love,

I believe I still owe you a new dress after ruining yours at the Winter Solstice. The shop has your measurements, and I told them what colors you prefer, so they hopefully pulled a few things already. I look forward to seeing whichever breathtaking option you choose.

I love you.

xx,

Astarion”

Even the notes they’d each written for her were entirely in character. Gale’s verbosity extended even to paper, while Astarion was right to the point, and each note left Fallon’s heart stuttering in her chest. Sure enough, as Fallon pocketed the note from Astarion, the shopkeeper had walked across the shop to a small rack of dresses separate from everything else. Fallon smiled at the assortment of dark blue, burgundy, and black dresses that hung there. “Tara, I don’t suppose you know if there’s a specific occasion I should be shopping for, or if I’m simply just to choose any dress that suits my fancy?” 

“I’ve been instructed to tell you that there are plans this evening for which you might want to have a new dress but, and I quote, 'she could show up wearing rags off the floor of the Elfsong Tavern and she’d still look beautiful, so it doesn’t matter.' ” 

Fallon snorted with laughter. Even Tara’s delivery of the instructions sounded like Astarion. “Well alright then.” 

There was a stool next to the rack of clothing, and Tara jumped onto it and sat down. “While I am not privy to all of the details, Mr. Dekarios alluded to the…transgressions he and Astarion committed together. As a result, he and Astarion are now both desperate to prove how much they care for you, and are equally as desperate to earn your forgiveness,”

“Well that’s certainly one way of putting it.” Fallon hummed as she began to examine the dresses on the rack before her with intent.

“So, miss Fallon, if I may make one tiny suggestion? One female to another?” There was a mischievous tone in Tara’s voice that piqued Fallon’s curiosity, and she tore her gaze from the dresses to look at the tressym.

“Let’s hear it.” Fallon agreed.

“Make them crawl.” 

Chapter List

[spacemonkeysalsa]

Appetites

It's been five years since the Vampire Ascendant Astarion helped save Baldur's Gate. He has everything he ever wanted, and he's miserable.

Isolde is nobody, and has nothing. When given the option to become a vampire spawn, her response gives Astarion a moment of pause; “No. Thank you. I think I’ll just die.”

(Angst and fluff and fluff and angst)

Read Chapter One on Ao3

Read Chapter Two on Ao3

or read chapter two below the cut

Elves didn’t sleep, and didn’t dream. Isolde didn’t know for certain if the ‘new monster’ that the elf Astarion had become could dream, but she had to assume that no, he didn’t. In the six months since he’d let her go, he wouldn’t have dreamt of it. 

But, Isolde did. 

Not every night, but often enough that she was sure she needed to address it, with someone. A cleric, maybe. Or an herbalist, or an alchemist.

The dream was a jumble of twisted representations of what had really happened, and what she imagined could have happened, and impossible, absurd things that would never happen on any plane of existence.

The party had still been going on when she left his chambers. Music and laughter warbled from the ballroom and light danced from under the doorways. The halls were deserted and dark, however. 

Perhaps, the darkness was an attempt to deter the Lord’s guests from venturing into other parts of the palace, but if that was the case, it hadn’t worked. She’d passed at least four different couples, and a rather involved group of three scarcely making themselves out of the way of any potential traffic.

No one stopped her, no one hardly looked at her. She made it outside and then the darkness and the indifference of Baldur’s Gate struck her like a cold threat. 

She ran. As he ordered.

She didn’t know where she was going. She couldn’t go back to the Baron’s manorhouse, couldn't go anywhere near her old masters. The void in front of her was so overwhelming, the despair of her fall so profound, that for a moment she had earnestly wanted nothing more than to find the vampire lord at her back. Maybe it was just a ploy, something he did for fun. He could still chase her down.

But he didn’t, and with time and reflection, she was glad to be alive. Eventually.

She remembered it all so vividly, and the dreams never got it right. Not all at once. Sometimes the palace filled with rivers of black water, and she couldn’t find the way out. Sometimes both her legs were broken and she got lost in the dark, crawling one fistfull of black silk at a time over the uneven breathing ground. 

Sometimes, Lord Astarion did chase her down. The streets of Baldur’s Gate were empty and he charged, or flew, took her to the ground, then he held her as sweetly as he’d done when she asked. She always woke up here, to her immense frustration; overwarm, ashamed, the afterimage of his beautiful face burned behind her eyelids. Somehow more alive than anyone, those red eyes delving deep as his kiss. 

If she could scare up a little privacy in the middle of the night, she’d try to take care of her needs, without waking anyone else in the servant’s quarters, but Baron Horrold didn’t provide for more than a few feet of space per servant.

She hadn’t gone to her old master’s enemy right away. She’d had to make herself presentable first and that took a few days. She robbed a collection and a careless merchant, and some clothing that just so happened to fit, after she couldn’t find a tailor who would let her into their establishment in her state. What friends she’d had would be better off assuming she was gone for now. No doubt, Baron De Cloyo had some yarn to spin about his horribly disloyal scullery maid who up and abandoned the household, thus sparing him the trouble of sacking and humiliating her.

Baron Horrold’s Household was better. It was difficult not to be. But in many ways, the families felt oddly interchangeable. The Barons had both grown up in the same circles, sons of wealthy merchants, married imported daughters of important dignitaries and had three rather loud and sensitive children who they neglected in every way but the material, and who would probably grow to be insufferable sometime in their twenties. They had both risen to power just in the last few years, after the wicked but brief Archduke Gortash culled the patriars and caused a mass reorganization of the Court, and the claiming of new titles and new opportunities. 

But, there was one crucial distinction between the families; the Baroness Horrold rather liked Isolde. She found her pretty in a nonthreatening way, and enjoyed watching her—she heard the Baroness say that to one of her sisters after they inquired why the scullery maid was now a housemaid, and finally a lady’s maid after just a few months of employment. Unheard of.

It helped that Isolde had a great many secrets about Baron De Cloyo to share. She hadn't said anything about Astarion. Horrold didn't know for certain that the Lord was a vampire, he just knew that De Cloyo claimed he was, and Isolde thought it was better to preserve that ambiguity. Instead, she simply told Horrold that De Cloyo had gotten upset with her and tried to kill her, so she'd fled. No need to mention Astarion at all.

And Horrold wasn't interested in details about that night anyway, but he was interested to know about De Cloyo’s business dealings and what lengths he went to in order to keep his affairs secret and his wife loyal.

Isolde wasn’t exactly proud of what she’d done to carve out a safe place for herself in Baldur’s Gate, but she did feel some satisfaction in her success.

She’d thought her life was over that night. She had every reason to believe she’d never see another sunrise.

And, honestly, she didn’t need a cleric, herbalist, or alchemist to tell her why she was having those dreams. She didn’t even need them to tell her why she enjoyed them. Why every night she had them, she hoped it wasn’t the last time. She’d already been traumatized long before Ferdinand Joerum, better known as the Baron De Cloyo, gave her to a self proclaimed monster to destroy her; to someone who carried that kind of pain, further trauma sometimes felt so right. Familiar. Cathartic. It was evidence that she saw the world as it was. She was right not to trust a safe place, or a kind word, or a promise.

Of course, she also liked the dreams because it was such a vivid way to recall Astarion. He’d been an unexpected fixation, for all the opposite reasons that she felt some familial peace of mind at her dark dreams. Astarion was so… wrong. Such a contradiction. A little evidence that maybe she was wrong, actually. Maybe there was still some sliver of hope in even the darkest soul?

Or, perhaps, she was just desperately lonely and a bit sick.

In any event, six months was a long time to think about one night, but she did still think of it, every day. For at least a moment. Sometimes, only a moment. Often, she thought of it just long enough to dwell on the memory of the strange, sad vampire who was never true.

On the morning of Baroness De Cloyo’s birthday, the Lady was in rare form. Not in a wholly positive way, unfortunately. A summons to Wyrm’s Rock had gone out to the nobility. Duke Ravenguard was still away, but Court business could not afford a delay. It was a distraction from the Baroness’ birthday, as was an engagement ball for one of the surviving Eltans, happening later that week. All things considered, the Barnoess ultimately had to graciously express a desire to have a quiet, modest little party with immediate family only. It would never have been her first choice, but to demand anything more would have been to “overburden the social calendar” as her husband put it.

The Baroness huffed and pitied herself as Isolde and her other Lady’s Maid, Mayrina, arranged her hair into an attractive pile of curls and braids wound through a silver circlet. “This will be your first day in Court, won’t it Isolde?” said the Baroness

“Oh, am I coming?” Isolde dropped a hairpin at the pang in her chest. Maybe she should have prepared herself for that possibility.

“You’d hardly abandon me when I’m so fragile,” the Baroness tsked. “You and Renald will accompany the Baron and I.” 

“As you say,” but Isolde was thinking of what could possibly keep her away. It needed to be something outside of both her control and the Baroness', so they could lament her absence together. Their youngest son had said he wasn't feeling well at breakfast that morning, perhaps Isolde could encourage him to confirm an illness.

“Dear Hywel will be there, and you know he’s quite fond of you.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Isolde abandoned her unformed plans of escape with an internal sigh. Hywel Dlusker was another of the surviving patriars from before the big cull. As far as people to be fond of her went, there was nothing really horrible about him. He came by the house fairly regularly, so she knew that he and the Baron had some business, and that was why his fondness of her felt suspicious. Hywel couldn’t possibly be serious about her. She wasn’t quite sure she was ready to resign herself to just being a bit of fun for the young patriar traded for favors.

But, if the Lady was encouraging her to accept Hywel’s pursuit of her, she didn’t really have much of a say. It also meant that her attendance at Court would be a priority, for the household, if not for anyone else. She obviously wouldn't be allowed to participate or even be on record as an attendee, that wasn’t why the nobility brought their servants—but still, the Baroness needed her there. And if Hywel was there, then the Baron needed her there too. They maybe even needed that above leaving someone competent and unburdened with other duties to watch over a sick child.

Her anxiety grew as she saw what the Baroness had picked out for her to wear. It was too fine for a Lady’s maid, even one who needed to blend in at Court. It wasn’t conspicuous, exactly, but the gown was well-made, from more than decent material, and tailored to fit her as snugly as her uniforms, though none of her uniforms had a decolletage quite like this.

The one thing that made wearing the fine dress tolerable rather than embarrassing was that it was a muted gray, rather than something more ostentatious.

The Baroness clearly wanted it to be received as a gift, and so Isolde thanked her profusely, but as Mayrina helped her lace up the bodice, she couldn’t help but see it as silken wrapping paper.

To confirm this, the Baroness smiled and put a hand on her shoulder as she inspected her appearance. “He’ll like it.”

Having spent her entire life in the city, Isolde wasn’t familiar with Wyrm’s Rock, besides one rather melancholy memory from childhood. Before she’d lost her family, she’d made a friend who tried to take her into Rivington through Wyrm’s Rock. Her parents had both come after them and she was punished. She didn’t understand why they were so angry—generally speaking, she was free to run quite wild with the other children. Her mother seemed to think she wouldn’t be allowed back in, and her father humored that paranoia. She wished, as she’d gotten older, that she’d thought to ask more questions about that—about why it made her mother shake with rage and cry all night.

Long after everyone was gone and Isolde was on her own, she had seen Wyrm’s Rock become a barrier to the outside world. The kind her mother feared. But, that hadn’t lasted. It was just an old, imposing gateway again. Close up, the interiors were smaller than she’d imagined—or maybe just filled with hidden passageways. She lingered behind the Baroness and the Baron, Renald was old hat at this, so she watched him for her queues, anticipating where to step and how quickly, how to stay out of the way. But, even Renald commented on how crowded it was.

Isolde wished again that she could have found some avenue of escaping her obligation to be here. It was almost guaranteed that De Cloyo or his people would be present, and she’d so far managed to avoid revealing her miraculous survival to her old master.

Maybe the fancy dress and well coiffed hair would fool him into thinking she was someone else?

Could she claim to have a twin sister? She didn’t bother to bring this concern to Horrold’s attention, because he already knew all about it, so felt the conversation would probably just annoy him. 

He wasn’t worried about it, so she shouldn’t be—that would be his stance.

Then again, it was always possible he just hadn’t thought about it, because he didn’t think about her, at all. Gods, it was impossible talking to nobility. You could never tell them anything and expect them to take it well, unless you tricked them into thinking it was all their idea.

The Baroness and Baron stopped short as they entered the audience hall, and Isolde saw why with a sinking in her stomach.

De Cloyo was perched at the head of a small gathering of his friends nearby, and he’d looked up the moment they entered, right past the nobility, to the Lady’s Maid.

So much for not being recognized. But what made her blood ice over was the fact that he didn’t look remotely surprised to see her, instead, he wore a smirk. A little grin, prompted, she feared, by whatever expression she wore on her face.

To her immense relief, Renald stepped forward, placing himself very casually in front of her to block De Cloyo’s eyeline. She’d never talked to Renald about her time before coming to work for the Joerg Household, but Horrold must’ve told him, because he met her eyes and nodded curtly in solidarity. “You’ll be fine,” in spite of the protective gesture, his words were almost dismissive, like the matter was little more than a bit of vicious gossip, rather than the truth of having to confront someone who had wanted her dead.

Baron De Cloyo knew she was alive, and no one seemed surprised by that. With a little spark of rage she realized that the most likely reason was that Horrold himself probably told De Cloyo. The two of them had a similar, bad habit of using information they knew would upset the other in their little arguments. Even when giving that information away wasn’t safe, or wise. That was how she’d known about Astarion before meeting him, after all.

As their arrival was noted and the way shifted so they could make their way deeper into the audience hall, bodies rotated just enough that Isolde found De Cloyo again, still watching her openly, still smiling.

A high, hearty laugh drew her attention, in fact, half the chamber shifted their necks. She’d never heard Astarion laugh, but she somehow knew it was him before her party walked forward enough for her to see him there. Her heart leapt and slammed into her ribcage. She hadn’t even considered that the vampire lord might come. She assumed his dealings were more clandestine, by nature. Then again, he probably knew everyone in the Baldur’s Gate elite, so maybe his appearance was expected socially, if for no other reason.

Pointedly, she was sure, he stood under a shaft of sunlight coming in through the window. He was dressed like a prince, in gold and silver brocade with pale silk. He was apparently quite amused by something; he spoke to a most unexpected companion—not a patriar or one of the new nobles of the city, but a slight half-elven woman with sandy hair and a flaming fist’s uniform. 

The flaming fist’s warhammer clung to her back, but her stance gave no mind to the extra weight. She looked decidedly less amused than the vampire lord, though perhaps like she was fighting quite hard not to let the corner of her mouth turn up.

“Your friend is here,” the Baroness deigned to lean back and snag her attention. It took Isolde perhaps a beat too long to realize that she was talking about Hywel. Hywel stood far enough away that they couldn’t greet him casually just yet, not with the room as crowded as it was. He was with the other Dluskers who were keeping to themselves for the moment. “I don’t think I have to tell you to be very demure, and discreet.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

The Baron and Baroness took advantage of their early arrival to mingle with the other elite, while Isolde looked for her opportunity to be a dutiful servant and fulfill her Lady’s wishes. It wasn’t appropriate for her to approach Hywel, he had to come to her, but she knew that if he didn’t—even if he was explicitly prevented from doing so by outside forces, or seemed to be actively avoiding her—it would still be her fault if she missed the intended encounter.

She grew a little anxious as the minutes stretched on and he didn’t part from his peers or even look over in her direction. It couldn’t be too long before the Duke’s representative made themselves known and revealed the business at hand. Would she get the chance to speak to him later? Did the Baroness like her enough not to hold it against her if she did miss her chance? She doubted it.

At her back, a sunlit warmth brushed against her, and she turned to find the vampire, Lord Astarion.

“Hello, my dear,” he inclined his head, and to her surprise released a sheepish sigh. “I do hope it’s not too uncomfortable seeing me again, after all that unpleasantness.”

“You? No,” her chest fluttered a little again, she tried not to look too delighted at his approach. Surprise would be more demur . Isolde tilted her head in the direction of De Cloyo.

“Ah,” Astarion pulled a slight frown that somehow turned back into his crooked smirk by the time he met her eyes again. “Right. I did try and make up a nice gory retelling of your tragic demise to sate his imagination. He was rather disappointed to have missed it. About a week later he came barging into my private boudoir quite furious that you were still alive. No idea how he found out.”

“I have some idea,” Isolde took a quick moment to check the glaring corners of the audience hall around them. The Baron and Baroness hadn’t looked at her in several minutes. De Cloyo kept her in the corner of his eye. Hywel seemed to finally be growing bored of his little flock, but hadn’t moved away from them or looked at her.

“I’m surprised you stayed in the city.” Astarion was different from how she remembered him. She should have expected that. In the months since their brief, bizarre encounter, she was sure she would have imagined an idealized, and perfectly fictional version of Astarion to embelish a dark fantasy, and admittedly, to comfort herself. But in person she found that there were some enticing details she hadn’t remembered. 

His eyes were even more piercing in the daylight, somehow. His manner, more graceful. The way he spoke to her, fully engaged and focused, as though nothing else could draw him away. If she wasn’t careful, her delicate mind would take every soft look he gave her and dwell in the light of him. She already had to contend with the dangerous and admittedly warped vision of him as some diabolic angel who’d saved her, rather than a self-proclaimed monster, who simply hadn’t ended her life when given the chance.

“I wouldn’t have anywhere to go,” Isolde confessed. “But, all the same, I did consider it.” She’d also considered throwing herself in the Chionthar and breathing in.

“No distant relatives? A stately aunt with a little cottage and waterfalls of wisteria?” The way he said this struck her as odd, compared to his usual brash and insensitive insights and violent musings. Saccharine. Then again, perhaps he was being sarcastic. It was a little difficult to tell, as his mood was so changed from when she’d last seen him.

He seemed… maybe not happy, exactly, but energetic, in a way he hadn’t been the night they met. It might be a mask, for the public appearance, but if so, he wore it well.

“Nothing like that, no.”

“Pity.”

“But, I’ve never been anywhere. I think I should like to travel. Waterdeep. Neverwinter. Cormyr.”

“You’re clearly resourceful enough to make your own way,” Astarion gave her more credit than she was due. Why bother flattering her? It couldn’t be a genuine observation. Then again, maybe he was reading too much into her appearance at Court, her nice clothing, the image must be quite the contrast from the memory of her.

Isolde turned a little, to subtly gesture towards the Baron and Baroness with a slight bow. “I am not so much resourceful as aware of my very limited value, to a small number of people who may choose to help me. And I did need help.”

“So? You did what you had to. No shame in that.” Even the way he said it told her he wasn’t convinced of the truth of that statement, but still, when he flicked his eyes away from the nobility to look back at her, he softened. For a moment she was spinning in his bedchamber all over again. She wasn’t sure if she’d actually fallen over multiple times, but it had felt like she had, like she had to steady herself on every piece of furniture within reach. Her feet continually crashing out from under her—but she’d been coming off a sedative, mixed with wine, overwhelmed and facing doom. 

Up against his smile, even in a sunlit, crowded tower full of fine manners and tight sensibilities, she felt her knees buckle. 

His approval was a potent thing. 

She had to change the subject. They couldn’t keep talking about her, giving him opportunities to pay little compliments that she would wonder at the sincerity of for the rest of her life. “How’s Alice?”

His smile loosened and he let out a soft exhale, “she’s a spawn now.”

“You gave in?”

“I did indeed,” he sighed and rolled his eyes. “I thought about what you said. I was refusing to give Alice what she wanted, precisely because she wanted it. But. There is much more satisfaction in receiving obedience from one who properly worships me and doesn't need to be compelled in all things.” 

That was his takeaway? Alarming. And, they were talking about Isolde again which wasn’t her intent.

“In any case, it’s going rather well. Compared to past attempts.”

That could mean anything less disastrous than having to destroy Alice, but Isolde tried not to be too morbid. Maybe it was fine. “And what do you compel her to do for you?”

“Nothing,” he raised and lowered one shoulder, the picture of innocence. “I haven’t had to yet. But it’s an important tool to keep in reserve, and I will use it when forced. One day.”

“Really?”

Astarion faltered just slightly under her gaze. She didn’t even think she was giving him more than a slightly skewering look, but with a narrowing of his eyes he conceded. “Well, it’s a passive thing. To an extent. I speak and she reacts. But, I’m careful what I say. Nothing more demanding than the occasional request for a fresh quill or clean towels.”

Did she believe him? Isolde studied his face. He really did look better. She wouldn’t have thought that was possible. But. There was still something like sorrow lingering over him. Or, apathy, perhaps. She did believe him, but it made her a little sad to realize that it was only because a moment’s consideration led her to the conclusion that he wouldn’t bother to lie about this. He didn’t care what she thought of him, or of Alice, or of any of it. He couldn’t. 

Some of that aura of tragedy ebbed, the longer she stared and he just stared back at her, content with the silence. Was that amusement growing in the suspended air between them? She must be so obvious, she must be a lurid shade of red. He wet his lips and she felt the slightest tremor through her core as she caught a glimpse of his fangs again.

“My Lord—I wanted to say,” but she stopped herself to take a sustaining breath. She never thought she’d get the chance to say anything to him again, so she hadn’t really considered if what she wanted to say was wise. Or even true. “Thank you,” she finally managed. “Thank you for sparing me—and, I wanted to explain. When I asked you to…” Gods this was difficult. Was anyone looking at them? Was anyone listening? She could hardly tear her eyes away to check. “When I asked for that , I was just so very frightened and I thought if I could only pretend for a moment…”

“You don’t need to explain.” Astarion’s voice was warm. His smile was still as cruel as ever, especially with just how amused he seemed at her growing discomfort. But in contrast, his tone stayed gentle, his eyes resting on hers, without digging. “It’s alright, Isolde.” He gave a slight incline of his head, and to her immense disappointment she realized he meant to step away.

Then she realized that while they’d been speaking, the rest of the room had started to hush and orient themselves around the very end of the audience hall, where the Duke’s representative was standing, in anticipation of receiving the attention of the crowd.

When she looked back, Astarion was gone, leaving a space that she instinctively filled, like she was following after him, for just a step.

“Isolde?” a hand touched her bare shoulder and she turned to find Hywel.

In that exact moment, the Duke’s representative began to speak, but Hywel didn’t seem to care, he leaned in and whispered into her ear so she couldn’t hear a thing the representative was saying. “The Baroness certainly seems to enjoy having a life-size doll to adorn.”

“Anything for the Lady’s birthday,” Isolde forced a smile, but couldn’t bring herself to look directly at Hywel. The Duke’s representative offered a natural spot in the distance to fix her gaze, and she resisted the urge to search for Astarion in the crowd.

“Such a dutiful little waif, aren’t you?”

Isolde didn’t see Astarion again that day. She told herself that it was for the best. That she shouldn’t feel disappointment that he didn’t seek her out again. Instead, she ought to feel relieved that their conversation had been so brief that her Lady didn’t pay any mind, even to mention it. The focus was all on Hywel and what he wanted and how Isolde might go about giving it to him discreetly and demurely.

[primal-savagery]

29 and 30 from the couple’s questions!

Woo finally got a minute to answer while my internet was stable. 😭Thank you so much for the ask! 29. Where is their relationship lacking? What could they do to improve it?

I think even post-game communication is something they're still working on. Their relationship started as Astarion manipulating Vel after all. And Vel still has problems asking for things or showing vulnerability for a whole myriad of reasons. They're still far from being functional people, but Gods they are trying.

One problem I see arising is Astarion developing a slight case of selective hearing post-game when him and Vel are venturing out into the world for the first time, and he's contending with the limitations he has as a spawn. The purpose of their adventure is to find a way to help him walk in the sun again, albeit while taking the scenic route. And in my version of events Astarion is very much thankful that he never went through with the ritual, but in the beginning absolutely mourns the powers he had to pass up. Meanwhile, Vel is trying to remind him of his own strength and insist that he doesn't need the powers the ritual offered to keep her safe. Neither of them do, in fact! From the time they met the deal was that they'd watch each other's backs and keep each other safe, and so far that's all they've ever needed. However, Astarion stopped listening right around the moment where Vel said he was strong enough just as he was to protect her. And his mind took that from 0-100. There's a period of time where he is like yes! I am the big strong protector! I'll protect both of us and you'll never have to worry about anything ever again! I'm definitely not overcompensating cause I'm overwhelmed by my newfound freedom and dealing with a lot of insecurity right now! And Vel is trying to insist that that isn't quite what she had in mind, but he's already picking a fight with some guy across the tavern who gave her a weird look.

Vel would find this quite irritating.

She just isn't someone who likes to be coddled like that. She knows she's a perfectly capable person, and so is he. And I'm sure she would love to sit him down and explain that him jumping to her defense all the time has the potential to create far more problems than it solves. However, I believe she has a nasty habit of biting her tongue until she's already peeved enough to snap. A nasty habit from her previous relationship where her making any kind of argument was treated as a Category 5 Drow Woman Moment.

It's something that they'll work out over time, now that the world isn't ending and they have all the time in the world to figure out how to live with one another. Neither of them are perfect people by a longshot, and they're both coming out of difficult situations. However, I think they make sure to stay aware of that; especially for when they hit the inevitable bump in the road.

30. Where is their relationship the strongest?

As far as intimacy, I actually picture them to be quite compatible! Whether it be sexual or non-sexual. Mostly because I also imagine them both as people who value their own space. You've never seen two adults parallel play better than they do!

Sometimes they get into a new room at the nearest tavern after a long night of adventuring, and all they want to do is crawl under the covers and glue themselves together until the next evening. Sometimes after especially tiresome journeys they both need their own bed to face plant into and splay themselves out like starfish until they feel like moving again. Possibly for days at a time. One isn't especially distant while the other is exceptionally clingy. It's more of a case of them both loving to be physically intimate, but do just as well on opposite sides of a room in companionable silence. Especially since Vel fancies herself a geriatric woman who requires 8-12 hours of REM sleep a day; in spite of the fact that she is middle aged at best, and also a damn elf.

[alpaca-clouds]

NaNoWriMo Day 8

Yay, managed to write four more chapters today - and finally got to the actual smut scene. 🙈 Which was rather fun to write. Funnily enough the first time I wrote a sex scene with a trans male character (who is not a shapechanger, that is). Due to writing a lot of smut for Striga/Morana in Castlevania, where I headcanon Striga as trans female, I wrote quite a bit with a trans female character in there. But never trans male. xD So, yeah. That was sure something.

The hard scene today was mostly the "escaping a sinking ship" scene. Because that was something I have not written before. Also might wanna note that I had a lot of fun today with Astarion being dramatic and everyone else going: "Dude, I get it, but this is literally the worst time for this."

Wordcount: 47 270 / 50 000 (+8894)

Chapters: 21/24

Favorite Bits:

Still, he focused on the lock, getting it open within a couple more seconds and swinging the brick door open like that. “Now please tell me they tied you up with rope?” “Them? Yes. They kinda took precautions with me,” Tav replied. He managed to get up to show the handcuffs that they had bound him with. The kind of things, that suppressed magic, Astarion assumed. But still, handcuffs usually posed little problem when it came to lockpicking them. As such it did not take him long, to open them as well. Tav smiled, massaging his wrists. “That’s better.” Then he turned to Astarion. “Thank you.” “Thank me, once we are out of here,” he muttered. “Can I kiss you?” There was a groan from the drow. “Could we please wait with all of that until we…”

The woman gave a sigh. “Don’t give an old woman a heartattack, coming in here with so many people in the middle of the night. I already thought the devil’s hordes were here to fetch me.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “But y’all look rather miserable. Do you youngsters want some hot cocoa?” Astarion could not help a chuckle. Youngster, ha. He was fairly certain he was older than this woman. “Who was that?” Karlach asked, once the woman left. “That is Marigot,” Alfira said. “My patron. She… Well, she owns the house. And since she is alone now, she allowed me to open my music school here.” “She is actually super sweet,” Tav said. “You should have told us she was here, Alfira,” Shadowheart added. “We would have tried to be quiet.”

“The thing is that… I am by now fairly certain I love you, my sweet, dumb bard. I actually do love you, can you imagine that?” Tav made a strange noise, but he smiled. “I can in fact imagine that,” he whispered. “And… And I do love you, too.” His thumbs were softly caressing Astarion’s skin. “And I kinda want to kiss you right now.” “You are an idiot,” Astarion whispered, instead just kissing him. He kissed him, and it just felt so incredibly good. More than that, it felt right. Something, though, Astarion had not quite noticed, was that they had an audience by now. “Wait, have you never said that before?” Karlach asked, leaning in the doorframe. “Of course they have not,” Shadowheart muttered. “They are both horrible idiots after all.” “You are just a bit mean,” Lakrissa muttered. “She likes being mean,” Wyll added.

[awellboiledicicle]

Dhampire Tav is amusing for a variety of reasons but like one of the features i found include "possibly not needing to breathe" which is probably bullshit but i'd deeply enjoy rolling with that.

They're also considered either exceptionally good monster hunters--because they shun their vampire heritage-- or the best vanguards vampires can have because they will guard their undead family from all comers.

I'd like to imagine Dhampire Tav, or Dav, is the former because having a father that's an asshole vampire feels like something reasonable. Add in that it seems common for said vampiric parent to view them as basically the middle ground between spawn and vampire and you have someone with... interesting morals.

I imagine Dav came about largely from a rival of Cazador that flew under the radar by being generally content to prey on the fringes of nobility that Cazador himself didn't feel the need to keep connected with for status. So long as the rival's coven never got outside a certain size. Which leads to said rival not really being able to support spawn in the traditional sense-- only so many servants can be undead, anyway, before someone notices the house doesn't take in deliveries, the masquerade must be upheld with mortal staff and regular events common to high society. Some of which need to occur during the day. So he experimented. No one really blinks that much of an eye if a middling but respected head of house takes a few lovers before picking one to settle with. A few illegitimate children, legitimized, and brought up to serve the family is hardly rare.

And Cazador has grander plans to think of over whatever odd little experiments someone is doing across town.

But Dav was certainly raised to know who Cazador was, in a very "our damnable rival" sort of way. Their mother, a human woman, secretly taught them about other things as well, though. Her loving their father is why they go along with long hours training and dealing with their father in general.

I imagine the plan was for Dav to be trained as an assassin to eventually wage a sort of stealth war against Cazador's many spawn until the rival could launch his own miniature army of hybrids against him. Very chess master with a plan against a bigger chess master that doesn't care that much about the smaller chess master.

The problem being though, that Dav's father tells his 20 or so dhampire children to surveil the estate and mark down who goes in and out. Which means they're left with a kinda daunting list of possibilities with a core group of "most deffo spawn" on the hit list. They were planning on splitting up the actual fighting between themselves the night Dav got abducted.

I feel like Astarion has no idea who Dav is and Dav is ok with that because they know like 2 spawn from their father's house and its miserable to be one--though their experience was largely their father beating the spawn on occasion. And so long as Astarion isn't loyal to Cazador, they have no quarrel. It also helps that Dav is 100% willing to throw their father under the bus and walk the fuck away from the whole mess once their siblings and mother are out.

pondering

[rosefictoqueer]

*kicks my lil leggies up* tell me about your selfships aaaannnnddd if any of them do lifestyle bdsm (like mostly permenant dom/sub dynamics)?

!;!??! yeah!? ok!!!! 💛

most of my lifestyle bdsm stuff is less si/fo and more me/fo. i never know exactly how to explain it bc my si's are me, which makes it even more complicated in one case where it both me/fo and si/fo

so its generally always some flavor of cgl and abdl combined with my fo being the one in the dominant role and me/my si being in the submissive role :)

i have three fo daddies: martin septim, astarion and halsin :). martin is a me/fo case; i dont ship vokamartin like that! i imagine he's a softer dom especially since he has his priest/emperor personality. if it were pre-sanguine then i could possibly see him having a harsher dom side! anyways, i see myself as a slighter 'older' little age here: around 3-4 toddler age. still in diapers (ofc) but wants to be independent and act big despite not being me :)

astarion and halsin are the ones i kind of keep to myself aside from tagging posts only because i refuse to actually consume the game in its entirety until i am either forced to watch it or i finally get a ps5 or gaming pc and thus i dont know a whole lot about their actual personalities etc outside of clips and fanart >_<...

me/halsin/astarion and aeryn/halsin/astarion are both like true at any given point in time. i think astarion would be very happy at least to dress me/aeryn up like a little doll. in these relationships my/aeryn's little age is a lot younger; under a year old! very needy, very dependent, and also my actual main little age irl :)

sometimes its just me/astarion or me/halsin (same fr aeryn ships) and sometimes they are together. it just kind of depends on my mood and what i want to fantasize about at the moment~ i think astarion would be kind of a controlling dom just based on what my friends told me about him which. hehe yay :)

me/ganondorf has always been a mixed pet/slave situation. im essentially there to look cute and helpless for him and also be a warm couple of holes in the middle of the night. its been so long since i thought about this stuff in full; this started when i was... fifteen or sixteen i think? i cant remember for sure 😅 anyways basically i was captured when the village i lived in was ransacked and he thought i looked very pathetic so he decided to make me his pet~

and finally, just off the top of my head at least, eden/jet is less permanent only because jet takes every opportunity he can to get the fuck out of there because eden scares the HELL out of him. based on in game dialogue, eden actually forces the pc into a cage to eat without their hands if she captures them, so obviously she does that to jet. i also have a sliiiight thing i want to do with him where she has a TF collar to give him wolf features to really drive home that he's her pet but im not sure. i think eden definitely makes sure to keep jet tied up as tight as she can. strong knots on leashes, locks on cages that can't be opened or fumbled with from the inside at all. when she forces him to stay locked up inside she lays down puppy pads for him and will rub his nose in any mess he makes if it isnt on a pad. and sometimes when she's got her guard down she lets him stay sleeping at the end of her bed (still leashed to the bedframe)

[lets-just-daydream]

I loved this:

https://www.tumblr.com/lets-just-daydream/730163482466680833/pls-only-if-you-want-to-but-i-have-been-searching

It sparked a thought! What if Cazador did turn you into a spawn? Astarion and group kill him, perhaps you are sent to safety to ensure your soul is not sacrificed. Then spawn Astarion and you get to spend eternity as equals, no need to find a cure for vampirism or extend your mortal life.

Love your work. Cheers!

POOR TAV LOL

destined to end up in Cazador's clutches (at least in my fics) but we need the angst before the happy ending right???? (decided to put these requests together)

Ahh. You'd made it. Baldur's Gate! Weeks and weeks of travel, killing, bloodshed, making friends and making enemies. You were almost certain with all the walking you'd done you could lift a house with your new leg muscles. Well not quite but you certainly felt like it.

Your companions scattered slightly, feeling mildly safer in the city and agreeing to meet up in a nearby tavern Shadowheart had pointed to and said she was departing to. You wandered off to find a merchant to buy some perfumes and soaps from because you were certain you smelled awful. Right beside you, not unexpectedly, was Astarion. The closer you got to the city, the clingier you found him to be. Not that you would ever complain. Being back in Cazador's domain was kind of scary for you and you could not imagine how utterly terrifying it must be for Astarion. As you walked, you looped your arm in his and you felt him relax slightly, a smile gracing his features. But you still saw him looking over his shoulder every couple of minutes.

You tried to converse with him as a distraction. "How about we get some nice soaps and perfumes, go back to the tavern, get ourselves a room and have a nice, warm bath?"

"Mhm," Astarion responded half-heartedly.

"Astarion?" You asked. He barely registered your voice and you gave his arm a slight squeeze to get his attention. "Look, I know that you're worried but I've got your back, we've all got your back."

He smiled back at you and gave you a soft peck. "I know, darling. But I… just can't help the feeling like I'm being watched."

Your brows furrowed and you looked around. It was broad daylight and you were in the middle of the street.

"My love," you said. "It's the middle of the day. You're the only vampire that could be out here."

Astarion looked at you and laughed, he'd forgotten this important piece of the vampire puzzle.

"Of course," Astarion smiled. "Now let's get these soaps so I can lather you up later."

You smiled and chatted as you found a vendor, smelling the soaps on offer, not knowing that Astarion's gut feeling was right. You were being watched. From the shadows.

You made it back to the tavern with many soaps in bag, keen for a relaxing night in. You'd discovered the rest of your companions had booked their own rooms. It made sense after camping out together for weeks everyone would jump at the opportunity to have their own space.

You bit your lip and turned to Astarion. “If you'd like to get your own room, we can bathe wherever you'd like.”

Astarion only offered you his trademark smirk before turning to the innkeeper and asking for one room, with one bed. You blushed and watched as Astarion took the key and turned back to you.

“I would like to bathe with you, in our bath, in our room.”

You nodded and grinned, following him up to your allocated room and stepping inside after he'd unlocked it. There it was. One bed. A bathroom off to the side and a wardrobe, a desk and comfortable looking couches situated in front of an unlit fireplace. It was rather warm these days. You then spotted doors off to the side and opened them to find a balcony decorated with plants and wooden furniture.

“Oh, it's a nice view from here, Astarion,” you said as you leaned against the rail.

You heard him step onto the balcony and he stepped in behind you, caging you in his arms between himself and the railing. “Yes, you're right,” he said plainly.

He sounded so casual and even though you had shared a few nights together and confessed your feelings to each other, his simple touch or his body against yours still sent you into a silent internal frenzy. You truly could spend all day watching the street below with Astarion pressed against your back.

“I am so desperate for this bath. I'll go get it ready,” Astarion said as he leaned down and pressed a kiss just under your ear.

You shivered and felt him smile against your skin before he was gone, retreating inside.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, soaking in the sun before you felt a ruble under your feet. Your brows furrowed and you leaned over the railing to see what could be causing the building to shake.

Before you could even process what was happening, the balcony crumbled and gave way under you, dropping you to the cobbles below. You heard a slight hiss and a cold hand on your skin before everything went black.

Astarion began filling the bath with warm water, a smile on his face. He didn't ever dare to dream that he could have a relationship like he had with you but it seemed the gods had slowly begun smiling down at him. He peered through the bathroom door and watched as you leaned over the railing. He admired the view you unknowingly gave him before he saw you begin to fall as the floor fell out from under you.

He screamed your name and ran to the edge of the destroyed balcony but you weren't there. Were you under the rubble? He screamed your name again as he dropped to his knees and reached for the rubble but he was too high up. He ran out of the room and came face-to-face with your other companions.

“We heard you scream,” Lae’zel said.

Astarion shoved past everyone, unable to put into words what he had just witnessed. They followed silently as he got outside and pushed through the crowd of people surrounding the rubble. Astarion dropped to his knees and pulled stone, wood and plants to reach you under the fallen balcony. He'd made a dent in it as Karlach and Lae'zel made short work of the pile but you were nowhere to be found. Astarion called your name again, scanning the crowd to see if you had been picked up but he couldn't see you. He couldn't smell you. But he could smell something familiar. Something that if his heart still beat, would have made it stop.

This was Cazador's doing.

You woke to a splash of freezing water to your face and you gasped as you gulped for air. You opened your eyes and looked around, not recognising where you were. Or how you even got here. What could you remember? You were on the balcony in your room, it collapsed and… that's it.

“Astarion?” You called looking around the dank, cold chamber.

Stone and tile lined the walls and floors and gods it was freezing. You tried to make sense of where you were and you noticed cages suspended from the high ceilings, a coffin in the middle of the room and… suspended bodies lining the perimeter of the room. Your blood ran cold and you froze as you saw the pained, tortured look on each person's face. You raised your hand to your mouth but were stopped. Chains shackled you to the ground and you could barely move an inch.

“What the fuck…” you whispered to yourself. “Astarion?!”

“Call for the little vampire all you like, but he can't hear you,” a sordid voice came from behind you.

You whipped your head around and saw a tall figure looking over you. Pale skin, long black hair, fangs peeking out from beneath his lips.

“Cazador?” You whispered.

“Indeed.”

You squinted up at him, confused. “You did this to me? Why?”

Cazador huffed and stepped in front of you, leaning down to take your chin in his hand. His skin was ice cold. Colder than Astarion's and you shivered at the feeling, your stomach recoiling in disgust. “Hmm. They told me you were clever. Too much credit, I say.”

Cazador stared at you impassively, like he was bored with you. “You're… insurance. I figure the boy will come to save you. I've heard that he's so desperately in love with you. Isn't that cute?”

You didn't respond, only letting your mind wander to Astarion, hoping he was safe. If you were still here with Cazador it meant Astarion was still safe and alive somewhere. You hoped your companions would keep him away. You knew Karlach would. But Astarion was also stubborn and you prayed to every god who was and wasn't listening that he wouldn't come looking for you.

“Some say cute,” Cazador continued. “Pathetic, I say.”

You furrowed your brow in anger and struggled against your restraints, desperate to reach the vampire in front of you and stake his heart.

“I'll kill you,” you sneered.

Cazador deadpanned and gripped your chin tight, his nails digging into your skin painfully. “Don't test my patience. If Astarion doesn't come for you, you'll take his place. Then I'll ascend and kill him myself.”

You stilled and fear overtook you. Cazador was cruel and he intended to complete this infernal ritual one way or another. Maybe if he did use you instead, Astarion could hide away out of Cazador's reaches. But becoming ascendant, he could go anywhere, sun or no sun. They could play hide and seek for all of eternity. You had to get free and kill Cazador.

The vampire lord dropped your chin and stepped away, taking in his suspended spawn, his eyes landing on the spot where Astarion should be. He was impatient. There was no guarantee Astarion would even come for you. He may not even know where you'd gone. He turned slightly to find you struggling against your shackles. He could just do as he said, use you in Astarion's place and kill him later, anyway. Then he'd have the satisfaction of tormenting Astarion with your untimely death… Yes, the idea had merit and the more he thought on it, the more appealing he found it.

“Change of plans, dear hero,” Cazador said as he approached you once again and crouched in front of you. “I've been patient for too long to wait on that insolent fool any longer.”

You flinched as Cazador's fingers found your neck. “We'll be speeding things up.”

You gulped. “What do you-”

The remainder of your question died on your lips as Cazador reared his head back and bit into your neck without warning. You let out a scream as you felt an icy blanket fall over your body, your blood being drained from you.

You had gotten so used to Astarion feeding on you and being to gentle that this feeding frenzy felt like torture in comparison. You tried to shove Cazador off of you but the shackles held you in place. As the vampire took deep, clumsy gulps from you, you felt yourself begin to weaken and your vision begin to fade around the edges. Astarion would have long stopped by now and kissed your neck before laying you down to sleep.

Your body felt numb and cold as your hands fell limp by your sides, you could feel the strong beat of your heart slow to an unnaturally slow lull. As Cazador took a final gulp, your head lolled back and your eyes slipped shut, visions of Astarion filling the void before you finally faded away. You wished you could tell him one more time that you love him.

“I don't know about this,” Shadowheart said as they searched Cazador's study. “We're not even sure if Cazador is behind this.”

Astarion grinded his teeth in frustration. “I know he did this. The smell of his spawn was all over that rubble. If you don't want to help, then leave,” Astarion snapped as he kicked a book across the room.

It seemed the gods did indeed smile down on him as the book flew across the room and budged a lever everyone had missed and revealed an opening in the floor.

“I didn't even know this was here…” Astarion gasped, stepping past before anyone could stop him.

Your throat was dry. Impossibly dry. Like you'd just consumed a carafe of Baldur's Gate’s finest sand. You tried to move and you realised you were sprawled out on your stomach with something heavy on your back, your bare chest pressed into the cold tiles. Speaking of, your back was killing you. You stretched and felt around before feeling something wet and sticky. You pulled your hand back and saw that your fingers were covered in… was that blood?

Your eyes widened as you felt a stab and slice into your back and you let out a guttural scream at the pain. It felt as though someone had taken to your back with a knife and was carving into it. The dots connected in your brain and your body stiffened in shock. You heard a laugh from above you and you craned your neck to find Cazador above you, dagger in hand with a manic look on his face.

“Yes, let your screams out, little spawn. It makes this all the sweeter,” Cazador praised.

Your screams turned to laboured breaths but it didn't feel right, you couldn't get enough air into your lungs.

‘No,’ you thought in horror as tears welled in your eyes, shock finally giving way to reality.

You ran your tongue over your teeth and found two sharp fangs in place of your canines.

“It's a shame your life as a vampire will be so short, I think you might have enjoyed it,” Cazador said as he stuck the dagger into your back once again.

“Please… please stop,” you sobbed.

“Soon, my dear. Soon you and all these seven thousand spawn will cease to exist and I will become the greatest vampire of all time.”

You let out another scream as Cazador resumed his work, but he stopped abruptly and he fell off of you as you heard hurried footsteps and familiar voices. You turned your head toward the noise and saw Astarion heading the rest of your companions, running down the stairs toward you and Cazador.

“Grab him and tie him up. Tight,” Astarion commanded and Karlach and Lae'zel nodded as the latter put her crossbow back on her shoulder.

You looked up at Astarion, almost not believing your eyes. You began to smile but the look of horror, guilt and shock on his face caused you to frown and close in on yourself, a cry of pain escaping you as you moved.

You weren't yourself anymore. You were a vampire spawn. Cold, covered in bloody wounds and completely different to the person Astarion fell in love with.

“Oh, my love,” Astarion sobbed as he dropped to his knees in front of you. His hands hovered over you in fear of hurting you any further. “What has that monster done to you?”

You let out a pained sob as Astarion took the cloak from his back and draped it over you. He cupped your cheek and you looked up at him, his eyes shone with tears that threatened to spill. “I'm so sorry I let this happen.”

You sniffled and stiffened again as you heard Cazador speak behind you. “You finally made it, Astarion. If only you had been faster, you could have saved your dear lover from this awful fate. A failure once again.”

Your heart hurt as you watched Astarion listen to Cazador's words, you truly wished he didn't have to suffer such an awful master and now he was here because you had been captured and now he would think you're hideous and you were probably both going to die anyway. But Astarion stood and walked over to where Cazador was bound, held in place by Karlach and Lae'zel.

“What to do with you…” Astarion mused, unbothered by Cazador's words. “I could take your place and become the ascendant.”

“No…” You choked. “Don't do it Astarion. You're better than him, I know you are.”

Cazador had revealed that he would be sacrificing seven thousand souls to ascend and there was no way you could live with Astarion if he sacrificed all of those innocent lives. The chamber was silent for a moment before Astarion stepped closer to Cazador, unsheathing his weapon.

“You're right. I am better than him.”

It seemed as though Cazador let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he thought Astarion was going to cut him free. Be the bigger man, as it were.

“But I'm still going to enjoy every second of this,” Astarion took Cazador's hair in his hand, pulled his head back and stabbed into his master's neck. The sound of metal squishing into flesh was all that could be heard in the cavernous dungeon as Astarion stabbed into Cazador's almost lifeless body over and over. You watched Astarion's face as he finally threw his dagger down and dropped to his knees. You tried to comfort him but the shackles holding you in place jangled against you.

Karlach ran forward and freed you by prying the shackles open and you crawled over to Astarion and wrapped your arms around him.

You felt him stiffen under your touch and you moved away, worried you'd overstepped in this troublesome time he was going through.

“Your body is… cold,” Astarion said, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I'm sorry,” you whispered, not really even knowing why you were apologising. You were worried that without the warmth of your skin and the blood coursing through your veins, he wouldn't love you anymore. You had no warmth and no blood to offer him anymore.

“Why are you apologising? Why are you crying, my love?” Astarion asked.

You looked down at the space between you and felt your face drop.

“I'm… different now,” you struggled. “I can't feed you anymore… I'm cold.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks and Astarion leaned forward and held your body against his, careful of the fresh scars on your back.

“Darling I… I still love you,” Astarion whispered against your ear.

This was a rather tender moment and your companions wandered around the room examining what they could loot and whether the other vampires should be set free.

You leaned back and Astarion offered you a small smile. “You'll have me by your side for all eternity.”

You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes and offering him a small smile. Admittedly you had wondered what your relationship would be like as the years ticked by. You'd grow old, no longer young and energetic and Astarion would stay the same; forever young and beautiful, frozen in time. But now you were frozen in time, too. Young and beautiful, glad to know you and Astarion had eternity together.

“Let's get out of here,” Astarion said, helping you to your feet and offering you his arm. “I never want to come back here again.”

“Me neither,” you replied.

[alpaca-clouds]

NaNoWriMo Day 7

Alright, today was a good day for my NaNoWriMo. Though one chapter doubled into two. Because I just ended up enjoying writing the Halsin & Astarion dynamic. Including Scratch, too. Because he is the bestest boy!

Wordcount: 38 376 / 50 000 (+8498)

Chapters: 17 / 24 (+4)

Favorite Bits

Still, even Astarion could not withstand the temptation to bury his hands in the fur of the dog. “I am fine.” He could tell himself, how unconvincing his words were. “And because you are so fine, you run around out here in the middle of the night screaming and letting yourself mauled by a wolf.” There was no sarcasm in Halsin’s voice, though the druid raised an eyebrow as he looked at him.

“And then maybe for once, be honest with how you feel.” Halsin smiled, going back to stirring the earthy smelling mixture in the pot. He paused for a moment, looking over to Astarion without stopping in the motion. “Do you love him?” Astarion was silent. “I don’t know. I don’t know what love feels like.” For some reason this answer got Halsin to chuckle. “It feels warm. It makes you feel warm in your chest. It makes you feel safe, when you are with them. It… I guess your heart is not going to beat any faster. But it makes your stomach tingle, when they smile at you.” For a long while, Astarion considered this. Because… He did feel safe, when he was with that idiot bard. And he did feel warm, even on the inside. “Then… I think I might love him.” Halsin smiled. “You might wanna tell him that, too.”

The hand on his shoulder made him jerk. “We gonna get him back, don’t you worry,” Karlach said with a grin. “Yeah,” Astarion muttered. “We will, right?” “We never gonna abandon one of our own,” she said. “And this time you are gonna have Karlach along. Let Karlach deal with it for you.” “Great, now you are talking of yourself in third person.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t always be such an asshole. You know that pretty much everyone can see through it, right?” “See through what?” “That entire ‘asshole’ thing. Trying to push everyone away and such bullshit.” He did not answer. He guessed he was not quite the actor that he had imagined himself to be. Even though all that stuff usually came naturally to him. “Though you were really shitty last night, you know that, right?” “I know,” he admitted. “And really, if you ask me, you totally do not deserve Tav.” Even knowing that it was kinda useless, he could not hold back the scoff. “Thanks.” “But that man is stubborn like hells. And it seems he has made his mind up. For some reason.” She smirked. “Consider me jealous.”