#however the idea of Astarion cradling a baby rabbit nearly moved me to tears

[astarionsilverbough]

AHH! Another place to gush about your work! Stupendous! Wonderful! So excited for more 🙌

I live for the softness ❤️ a glutton for the sweetness of their relationship.

Things I like thinking about include

Hair care: Astarion not being able to see himself and Halsin’s braids so they can take care of each other hair which is such a soft bonding activity which can also lead to a gentle bathing and washing together. Also scar hurt/comfort???

Halsin & animals playing with baby ducks and other baby animals. Imagine Halsin gently placing a small chick in Astarion’s hands to hold 😭

Wild shape shenanigans: Astarion’s feet hurting or just for fun using Halsin as his steed and general wildshape cuddling ❤️

Astarion having a hoard of little wooden creatures Halsin whittled. Also if Halsin had a hidden talent for drawing it would also be soft and angsty because Astarion can’t see himself, but now he can at least see how Halsin sees him.

Okay so firstly thank you so much my dear 😭💕 secondly, thank you specifically for this ask because my GOD it is so soft but nothing gets to me like braiding a lover’s hair/scar care like NOTHING does so I’m now just thinking about -

“Hold still, darling, it’s the last one.” A pause, and then - a mockingly scandalized gasp. “Halsin! Keep those hands to yourself, if you please! This is delicate work.”

It’s no use. They’re already everywhere, those clever, keeping hands; it’s Astarion’s fault, really. He’s naked and hovering over the larger elf’s very inviting lap, which also happens to be conveniently barren of clothing.

And he can’t be distracted - the customary braids in Halsin’s hair are best done when the elf’s mahogany locks are just damp enough.

“You always save that one for last,” Halsin burrs against Astarion’s chest, big hands cupping his ass.

The tips of Astarion’s ears go pink. “Nonsense.”

Halsin tips back and gives him a knowing smirk. “Is it because it’s the mating braid?”

He says it in elvish - low, and smug. Astarion reacts all over.

“You’re dreadful,” the vampire says, “absolutely horrible. Accusing me of sentiment? I know I have a tadpole in my head but - Halsin!”

Somehow he manages to pinch the bottom of the last braid and hold it aloft as his absolute beast of a lover rolls him into the sheets with a gusting laugh.

And, later - much later, after they’ve gotten filthy again and after Astarion finally finishes that damn braid - Halsin gets Astarion spread out on the sheets and slowly, gently massages the sigils carved into the landscape of Astarion’s spine.

Rosemary oil slicks Halsin’s way as the elf - looming over Astarion now with a thigh on either side of Astarion’s narrow hips - runs expert hands up and down the length of his back, thumbs pushing in all the write spots to loosen the tension he unknowingly carries in the places around the tattoo.

“It feels different,” Astarion says quietly. When he speaks, he speaks in elvish. Halsin’s hands pause; Astarion rarely speaks in elvish.

“What does? Are you in any pain?”

He says it evenly - measured and calm. An oath-bearing warrior he may be now, he will always be a Druid at heart.

Astarion smiles faintly against his own upper arm. They’re folded under his head, keeping it pillowed as Astarion watches Halsin’s reflection in the sliver of mirror just past the archway leading into their bathing chamber.

“No, darling,” he hums, “not anymore. It… feels different. The mark. Like you’ve gone and purged whatever evil was still lurking inside it. My own personal shadow curse - and you’re the light that drove it out.”

There’s a beat of silence. Astarion expects it, of course he does, but it still renders him breathless when Halsin bows over him and kisses slow and lingering down the exposed side of his face. Shifting, Astarion presses up and back against the larger elf, reveling in the strength of him, the heat of him.

“Evil could never dwell in this body,” Halsin murmurs in aching tones against Astarion’s ear, “for the sunlight of your soul would cast it out. You have only ever been made of light, dawnstar. No darkness could snuff that out.”

He expects it, most of the time - when Halsin utters some absolutely heart-shattering epitaph dedicated to their love or Astarion in general - but this time, Astarion’s moved to genuine tears. Call it the vulnerability after sex, the boneless exhaustion of a good massage, whatever.

Really, it’s just Halsin. And it will always be just Halsin, won’t it, he thinks, turning his head to catch the larger elf in a kiss as his fingers find the mating braid in his thick hair.

A thrill runs through him.

It feels like sunlight.

#I know there were three prompts to this but MY GOD THE FURSR ONE. nothing gets to me like mutual hair care and scar care #nothing #baldur’s gate 3 #halstarion #astarion #the land of gods and monsters verse #halsin #rambles #I am RUINED #however the idea of Astarion cradling a baby rabbit nearly moved me to tears #so there’s that