#|| If you have Gale in your party when you pick Astarion up he says that if Astarion cuts you he's going to incinerate him.

[little-tyrant-gortash]

"I speak, you obey" Enver Gortash vs. "I speak, they burn" Gale Dekarios- 👀

[twi-liight]

Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 

 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 

Yes. They all nod their heads. 

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 

Excellent. 

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 

“Karlach!” 

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 

“Gale?!” 

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

[eeldritchblast]

They’re Not “Playersexual”, You’re Just Biphobic

(I was going to save this until September 23 because I thought that would be an appropriate date, but the Ask I got included in this essay just put me over the edge. So, here it is now. Buckle up.)

Bisexuality/Pansexuality is the attraction to people regardless of gender. About 4% of the USA alone (over 13.6 million people) openly identify as bisexual, according to Gallup’s latest polling. But unfortunately, bi/pan identities are so scary to some folks that they need to make up terms to avoid calling their favourite characters such. Thus, the term “playersexual” was born: a term to describe a game character who is attracted to the player character... regardless of gender.

If that sounds like it’s just a circuitous way of describing a bi/pan character, it’s because it is.

I first heard of the term “playersexual” almost a decade ago, from a Dragon Age fan complaining that Dorian was gay and thus it was “unfair” that she couldn’t romance him as female character. This fan said they wished BioWare would go back to Dragon Age II’s model of everyone being “playersexual” for “equality”.

Now, if you’ve actually played DA:2 and you’re not a bigot, you’re probably rolling your eyes just as hard as I did when I first read such a ridiculous statement. Well, prepare for this next one:

“When you make a male Hawke, Anders and Fenris are gay and Merrill is straight. Opposite is true if you make a female Hawke.”

These people are so afraid of bisexuality that they cannot even fathom its existence. They can believe in dragons and magic, but they cannot believe that a character is simply bi/pan. I find this especially hilarious for Anders, considering he had a canonical boyfriend, as confirmed both in-game and in The World of Thedas: Vol. 2 book.

I truly thought we were past this nonsense in 2023. I really, truly thought that. But then Baldur’s Gate 3 was released in full, and suddenly these same fuckers came out of the woodwork to bend over backwards avoiding calling these characters anything except bi/pan.

Note how in the above Ask, the anonymous questioner actually doubles down on avoiding addressing these two characters in particular as bi/pan!

“Playersexual” doesn’t even truly work for the characters of Baldur’s Gate 3 regardless, because the definition is oriented around attraction to the player character… which these characters are not exclusively attracted to. Here are some examples that prove otherwise:

If neither Lae’zel nor Astarion/Gale/Wyll are in a romance with the PC, Lae’zel will say she plans on propositioning one of the men for sex at the night of the tiefling party. She also flirts with Karlach in party banter.

Shadowheart expresses interest in Karlach, (“I like her. She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise”) as well as Halsin if he leaves the party, (“he may have been misguided, but I liked looking at him.”)

Astarion flirts with nearly everyone in the party, but to just pick two examples: he mentions Wyll is the type of princely figure he used to dream about marrying, and says to Shadowheart “such a grim name for such a beautiful flower”.

Gale used to date Mystra. He also debatably flirts with Astarion by offering him some blood, after Cazador’s battle.

Wyll flirts with Lae’zel in party banter, and also refers to Halsin as a “delight” and “hunk”.

Karlach seems to have a little crush on Jaheira by the way she reacts to meeting her. She also says of Halsin, “everyone in this camp wants to climb that oak”.

Please keep in mind these are just a few examples I’ve picked out from screening through the dialogue, and there’s even more that prove the attraction to different genders these characters have is not related solely to the player. It’s just part of their identities.

In the Ask sent to me above, the anonymous questioner said they “cannot see Karlach as anything except lesbian and Astarion as gay.” This is just as bad as saying they are “playersexual” in my opinion, because yet again it’s erasing their bisexuality/pansexuality. Worse yet, it’s doing it because of the way the characters act. You cannot measure queerness based on actions and appearances being in line or not with queer stereotypes—it’s not a scale! And bi/pan folks are just as queer as lesbian and gay men, by virtue of simply being bi/pan!

All in all, I think this entire “playersexual” debate boils down to the fact that some people still refuse to see bi/pan identities as anything but “discount straight”. And that’s why people are rightfully angry when folks try to further this myth by pretending bi/pan characters don’t actually exist.

[demigoddessqueens]

HI!

SO I loved the one you did for me recently

But now I want angst pretty please

So spoilers for act three

Orin kidnapps one of the people in the game

But instead of the others, think tav being kidnapped ( if possible mKr it so in some of them reader don't survive in some reader survives or both, or just choose one 🫶)

Pretty please do wyll, gale, astarion, karlach, shadowheart, gortash and minthara

🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

You got it Bianca!! I’ll do a bit of both

A/n - woaw these got angsty 😀

Masterlist 12

Wyll

If he finds you, he’s greatly relieved and refuses to let you out of his sight

If it’s the worst outcome, servitude to the goddess who tricked him does nothing to remedy the misery he feels inside

Gale

This wizard will try and fail to stay strong for you when he finds you, thinking the worst before you’re in his arms

If he finds you and it’s too late, nothing is keeping him here to the world. Servitude to Mystra would be fate worse than death

Astarion

You’ve never seen him get so emotional at finding you, letting him exhaust all the pent up feelings

He sees no sense in hope if he fails to save you, the last sliver of hope and willpower he had

Karlach

Says you had her worried but crumbles in private when it’s just the two of you

Similar to Astarion’s reaction, she doesn’t bother to care for anything more in life if you’re not here

Gortash

He will exact the worst punishment on those who have kidnapped you or even let you pick out what befits them

However, if you were fatally harmed, he will never rest until those who did it are lifeless at his feet

Shadowheart

Fury and divine power is unmatched, only to be assuaged when you find each other

If she’s too late, any healing attempt is futile before she collapses into your lifeless arms for one last time

Minthara

She cuts down any and all who stand in her way until you’re breathing and safe in her gaze

If the party is too late, she will not hesitate to exact revenge on any who got away. There’s no love in life anymore

[bekaroth-reads]

Baldur's Gate 3 Characters x Reader/Tav with childcare habits

[ Not sure what to title this. I work with toddlers and very small children, and there are so many habits that leak over into other things I do. Thought that it would be funny if Tav had the same problem. Not necessarily romantic relationships, it can be platonic too. This is written gender neutral so it can be any reader or Tav.]

Gale- There was a general air of exhaustion that hung over the camp. But, on the bright side, at least Gale could rest easy in the knowledge that there was a very powerful, easy to consume artifact in his hands. While he usually liked to go through the whole song and dance of this unfortunate requirement by himself, he didn’t mind if you were there. You had both seen each other in stranger situations by this point. Add to this that you looked like you were about to fall asleep at any moment, there wasn’t much to be self conscious about.

Just as Gale put the artifact to his lips, you suddenly moved his hand away, giving it a few gentle taps.

“Ick, ick! Makes a Gale sick.” You mumbled, not conscious enough to be considered awake before you rolled over and fell asleep proper.

Gale gave a tickled chuckle that was slightly tinged with the bitterness of the truth in the situation.

“Oh, believe me. I know.” He patted your shoulder and got back to the deed at hand.

Halsin- Everyone else had retired to their tents except Halsin and yourself. The both of you had offered to clean up the mess from dinner. You had talked for awhile, but finally got around to actually cleaning. The pot that was used to cook dinner was left too close to the fire, so it was still too hot to touch with your bare hands. You had used a cloth to move it away, and were waiting for it to cool off when Halsin came over to pick it up.

Moving faster than your thoughts, you moved away his hand while instinctively saying.

“Hot, hot for Halsin!”

You were hoping that he somehow didn’t hear what you had said exactly. And, when all he responded was a polite, “Thank you for the warning,” you thought he might have not. However, Halsin was literally biting his tongue to try not to laugh.

A few days later, he teased you by taking a lit torch from you and gently scolding, “Hot, hot for Tav.”

Astarion- Things haven’t been great for him lately. And, by lately, he meant decades. However, he could wallow in self pity later. Right now he needed to feed, and animal blood wasn't cutting it. Lucky that you seemed to put your bed roll a bit farther from the fire than the others in the group.

He quietly sneaked his way over to you, and prepared to strike. However, when his fangs hit your neck, things took an unexpected turn.

"No bites! Not nice!" You scolded in your sleep as your hand moved to rest on his forehead and gently push him away.

You suddenly woke up. The two of you stared at each other, neither saying anything. After an agonizing awkward few minutes, he walked away.

The next morning he pulled you aside from the rest of the party and sternly whispered, "Look- you don't mention that I'm a vampire and I won't tell them about the baby-talk."

Shadowheart- She and Lae'zel had gotten into an argument. Nothing new for either of them. This one really got under Shadowheart's skin this time.

"Can't believe that slimly toad of a woman thought she could pull something like that..." She grumbled as she stomped past you.

"Hey, are you using your kind words?" You asked.

This stopped her in her tracks and she turned to look at you, her anger almost completely replaced by myrth. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?" She questioned, her voice sounding as devious as she felt.

"Are you speaking well about our teammates?" You rephrased.

Raphael- He had insisted that he recite a new poem that he was working on, even if he had to wake you up to do so. Despite trying to stay awake, you couldn't help but doze off on Haarlep's shoulder. They didn't mind as, though they weren't physically tired, they would also rather be anywhere else. The two of you both being Raphael's quite literal captive audience.

"Oh, no. That most certainly is NOT what you asked me." Shadowheart teased. She wouldn't let you live this down for a long time. She's never too hard on you though.

Once the cambion had finished, he looked at the both of you expecting praise for his prose; Haarlep elbowed you just in the nick of time so you could sit up before Raphael noticed.

"Well?" He goaded.

"Truly, you have outdone yourself." Haarlep gave a purposefully unconvincing cheer.

Raphael rolled his eyes before moving his attention to you. "And, you, Tav?"

Still not fully aware of how you sounded or anything in the actual contents of the poem, you said, "Oh, how pretty, Raphael!" like you would have to a child that just gave you a finger painting.

The next thing you knew, Haarlep was rushing down the hall, you slung over their shoulder, their wings hitting your head with every movement, as they were laughing so hard it almost turned into a coughing fit. The quick escape must have been from the vaguely Raphael shaped fire right behind you, snapping and flinging blazes your direction while cursing and yelling about you not knowing what true art is.

Haarlep- They had heard that you had taken a pretty nasty hit to the head. Still, they hadn't quite expected what they were greeted with when they went to take stock of your condition like they were asked to. (Nurse work wasn't usually in their duties, but Raphael couldn't be bothered to do this himself.)

They appeared in your room to see you sitting on your bed, staring at nothing.

"Knock, knock, little mortal." They announced their presence which tore your eyes away from the space you were looking at.

You looked at them for a moment before giving a exasperated sigh.

"Where are your clothes?" You asked.

They blink a few times, not knowing how else to respond. "I beg your pardon?" They eventually asked.

You walked over to your closet and started digging through it. Eventually you walked over with a completely mixed matched set of clothes. "You have to wear something. You can't just run around in your undies!" The last part was very exaggerated as you lightly pinched and wiggled their nose.

They immediately returned to Raphael with you in tow. "It's worse than we thought." Was all they said as they sat you down and walked away.

Gartash- To say that Enver Gortash's work and habits were messy would be an understatement. It was certainly no different tonight. He had gotten blood and viscera all over him. And, seeing as he loved to get a rise out of you, he chose not to wash it off before going to find you.

When he saw you reading, he took a moment to compose himself to seem as though nothing was amiss, and walked calmly up to you.

"Anything interesting in your books today?" He asked, barely holding his excitement to hear you yell at him.

You started to say something, but when you turned to look at him you took a cloth from your pocket. Reaching up, you rubbed the blood from his face; each pass of the cloth was acompanied with a sing-song, "Wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe, wipe."

Gortash was baffled and indignant that he didn't get the reaction he wanted. He smacked your hand away and yelled, "What in the hells was that?!"

"Sorry," you offered sheepishly, "force of habit."

[inkyquince]

The idea of Gortash and Astarion being in love with the Durge at the same time is so interesting to me. Because their both fundamentally in love with two different people. Pre-tadpole, Gortash fell for a Durge who was a slave to their urges. Astarion fell for a Durge whos regained autonomy over their mind and now has the ability to choose who they want to be.

This may be a hot take, but idc.

I feel like... From reading everything in game about Gortash and meeting him? He would be so into a redeemed Durge. Like, yeah, slight downside of their morals being a smidge too light now, but oh well.

Dark Urge had gotten free of Bhaal. The one actual barrier between them and also fully going into their plan. Remember, Durge apologised to their father for being so FOND of Gortash, they promised that they'll kill the other Chosen in Bhaal's name, etc. The one controlling all their moves? Their Father.

And they either are/want to be free of him.

Fuck, he's hard. They're so fucking strong and stubborn and perfect.

He uses guile, he uses charisma, he uses everything to get a leg up. He used his body, his joined a gang, all while younger. Now he's here. Nothing he respects more than gaining power and influence without being controlled, if his time in the House of Hope taught him anything, it's that being controlled will lead to being beaten and used and discarded.

Control is what made the Dark Urge so fucking endeared to him in the first place. They're not a mad dog, like Orin. They loose control some times but LOOK at the acts you just played through. They have SO much fucking control compared to what their urges want them to do. Gortash values control so fucking much.

But, just like Gortash, Astarion will fall in love with the Dark Urge, redeemed or not. Even if he remains a spawn, he's so soft with them. He will stay until he can't watch them loose their mind anymore. But ascended? He wants them in his lap, naked and rabid and far gone. He loves them, even as nothing better than a feral dog.

Like.... I think Astarion and Lae'zel and Shadowheart are the ones who will fully love the un-redeemed Dark Urge. Gale, as we can see after the Tiefling Massacre, will stick by you but he fucking HATES your ass for what you put him through. Wyll and Karlach leave. Even if you don't pick the nasty sides in the game, when Dark Urge gives into their... well, urges, they're horrified. Astarion, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, while not ECSTATIC are less incensed about the shit you do. Hell, when you take Bhaal's offer, everyone in the party basically... Says goodbye to the person they loved, EXCEPT Astarion. Even if you break up with him, he says that 1000 years from now, when he's forgotten how to open himself up to people, he shall spare a thought for his little lost mad love.

The fact is, Gortash and Astarion will love the Urge, just in different ways, Redeemed or Not. Hell, if the Dark Urge goes feral, Gortash will still love them properly, I feel. Ascended Astarion, like a normal Tav, will love them as a pet. For the romance of ruling by your side, to bond in blood, to adore you bringing sacrifices to his door like a cat with their prey, Gortash is the dark romance love interest you want.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)

  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.

Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red

CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort

(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)

Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.

Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 

 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.

    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.

Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.

He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.

  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.

Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.

  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”

 Thus began the war of all wars.

It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.

  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.

   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 

  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.

What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.

   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 

  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.

  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 

  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.

 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.

  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.

  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.

  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 

  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 

   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 

 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 

 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 

 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.

You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.

_________________________________________________

 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 

  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 

 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.

He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.

His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.

Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.

He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.

Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….

  No, I am sure they are just fine.

 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.

After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.

  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.

The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.

He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.

 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 

  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.

  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 

  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 

His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.

  “Darling,” he says softly.

    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.

  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”

 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 

  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.

He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 

  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.

______________________________________________

  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.

 “Astarion.”

  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.

  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.

 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”

  “I almost got you killed.”

 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”

  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”

 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.

  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.

“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”

  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 

 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.

 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 

  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”

 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”

 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.

  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.

You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.

 “Good night Astarion.”

  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.

[hawkinshorror94]

AN- I really enjoyed this request because I truly am. SIMP for dadstarion.

Hope

“You’ll be what drags him back to me.” Cazador murmurs examining your chained up form, his smooth hand picks up your chin so your eyes meet his “Especially with that second little flutter in your belly.” His mouth splits into a wide fanged smile, a predator’s smile. He pats your cheek softly before letting your chin fall back to your chest. His spawn had done well drugging you, keeping you complacent and quiet till he came and then he could finish the ritual. He’d decide what to do with you after.

“She’s pretty, Astarion.” Cazador laughed as his hand tightened in your hair to quell your squirming. This was your first day sober in the Szarr mansion and everything felt overwhelming, the smell of iron and rot hanging in the air like a noxious fog. The smell made your already queasy stomach lurch and the hand tightened in your hair didn’t help anything. 

Your eyes watched Astarion, begging but you weren’t sure for what. For him to save you, for him to stay put because this is exactly what Cazador had wanted all along. Seeing Astarion immobile on the stairs leading to the dungeon angered Cazador and he showed it kicking the back of your knees till you kneeled before him. 

“Tell him your little secret,” Cazador purred as he pressed the knife to your throat. “Maybe that will get this dance started.” When you didn’t speak he pressed the knife harder into your throat till you felt a trickle of blood running down your skin. “Tell him!” He roared and you flinched back from him, the knife digging more into your throat than before.

“I’m pregnant” You cried out and he finally threw you away from him because now Astarion was moving, straight to his death. You scramble away as Gale helps you to your wobbly legs. 

“Get to safety, we have this, we have him.” Gale assured as you wiped tears that streamed from your eyes as you nod making your way towards the stairs. You watch in fear as the battle plays out below you, fear clutching your heart and throat. You should be down there, but unarmed and with no armor, you’d be dead in minutes. So you have to have trust in your party. You have to have trust in him.

His fingers are covered in Cazador’s blood as he clutches your face, his fingers shaking from adrenaline, sadness, fear, and relief. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod. You would be okay now. Now that he was there “Is what he said true?” He whispers barely loud enough for you to hear and you nod again a whispered “yes” leaving your dry mouth. 

He presses his lips to your forehead and holds you there for a long time. Time slows around you and it’s just him. The feel of his cool lips on your warm forehead and then you feel a light tentative touch to your lower belly over your tunic. And you hear a shuddered gasp leave his lips and he finally moves to kiss you, the hand on your belly never moving. He had freedom now, he

had friends, he had you and now he had a baby on the way. The endless tortures and his own sins had accumulated to this, true happiness and peace. 

“Elaris, if you don’t stop running in my house.” You snatch the little girl up as she giggles squirming in your arms “I’m going to feed you to some awful beast in the Underdark.” She tickles the girl’s sides as she laughs.

“I hear dhampirs taste like ham.” Astarion chimes in from the kitchen table as he watches the exchange between mother and daughter. You look down at the wide eyed girl, your own eyes staring back at you.

“Papa, I don’t taste like ham.” The girl huffed and crossed her arms over her chest in your arms. You stifle your laughter as her little lip rolls out.

“Then perhaps chicken,” Astarion says standing from the table making his way over to you both. “Or maybe Rothe ribs. Or maybe goblin toes.” He continued and the girl squealed with laughter again as Astarion grabbed her from your arms. As if on cue, the new baby cried in from the bassinet in the sitting room. You start to make your way to get him and Astarion catches your wrist. 

“We’ll get baby Helios, won’t we?” He looked at the girl who was clutching his side. And she eagerly nodded. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth upturn into a smile.

“Thank you.” You say as he pulls you close to him and his daughter, the feel of love radiates around you like a blanket on a cold night. 

“No, thank you darling.” He murmurs, pressing his lips to yours.

(Much to Elaris’s disgust.)

[frantic-fiction]

More Than

(Pic cheekylittlepup)

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: In the midst of battle a stray fireball hits you causing damage to your hair. Your hair is part of your identity, losing it seem unimaginable. But it's just hair right?

Notes/Tags: Tav has curly hair (I have curly hair, this is purely self-indulgent, hurt/comfort, Astarion being a good partner

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

The delicate flakes crumble between your fingers like tiny wisps. You gaze into the porcelain sink, transfixed. Another pass of the brush sends singed strands cascading into the bowl.

"It's just hair."

Dropping the brush onto the counter, it bounces and clatters to the tiled floor. You don't bother to pick it up because all you can see is the stranger in the mirror. Red swollen eyes and chapped lips, blood splattered across their face. But what caught your attention was the strangers' hair; what were once long beautiful curls—the types of curls people envy after—were now choppy and uneven. Your face was framed with uneven fried tendrils, and the right half of your head was singed so close to your scalp that you're just now registering the painful burn that grazed your face.

"It's just hair."

It could have been worse. You've dealt with broken bones and stab wounds. Experienced moments where you'd be dead if magic did not course through Faerun. So why does this feel different? It was a simple fight. It was child's play for the party, just a couple of cultists. But you didn't see the halfling. At least not until his firebolt burnt half your hair off.

"It's just hair."

Karlach and Wyll tried to assure you that something could be done, that a new hairstyle could be salvaged with what's left of your hair. You disagreed and promptly ignored the two for the rest of the journey back to the Tavern. After you asked, Gale gave you his spare cloak, and you threw it over your head. You took the back stairway, too afraid to face the others. To face him.

Taking a deep breath, you pick up the pair of shears, the cold metal feeling daunting in your hand. You grab a chunk of hair with shaky hands and snip it off. You grimace, squeezing your eyes shut. Biting your lips hard, you force yourself not to cry, not now. Because if you cry now, you'll never be able to finish what needs to be done. But the tasks get hard the more hair clogs the porcelain basin.

Inch by inch, your best qualities and attractiveness are cut away because no one says how much they like your eyes or your skin. No, it's your thick curls and long hair. Hair. Your identity, your safety blanket, is now ruined because you didn't pay attention. Why were you such an idiot?

Tears blur your vision, and you throw the scissors with a scream. The mirror cracks, and you slide down the wall. Hugging your knees to your chest, you allow yourself to cry. Why bother anyway? A haircut isn't going to help anything.

"Tav?" Astarions's voice is concerned. He presses up against the door, and the handle jiggles against the lock.

You stiffened and pushed farther away from the door until your back hit the tub. You uselessly wiped the tears away. "I want to be alone." Your voice betrayed you, and you know Astarion will not be leaving.

"Darling," he sighs softly, and the door clicks open because, of course, it does. "The wizard mentioned…" Astarion trails off when another sob rolls through you.

He quickly drops to his knees and scoops you into his arms. Astarion cradles you against his chest, and you sob, crying as he rubs your back and kisses your face. He tells you he loves you until your wails are reduced to sniffles, and you have nothing to give. The two of you sit quietly in each other's embrace until Astarion speaks.

"Do you mind if I do something?"

Furrowing your brows, you nod hesitantly and allow Astarion to pull you to your feet and lead you to a chair outside the bathroom. He sits down and retreats to the bathroom to grab your brush and the shears. You curl in on yourself under Astarion's gaze.

"I'm very sorry this happened, love," he said, pressing a sweet kiss to the apple of his cheek. "I won't be able to undo the damage, but if you'll let me, I can even it out and get rid of the damage."

You reach for Astarion's hand, and tears trickle down your cheeks. "Do what you need to do."

He works in silence, and you have nothing to say; the only sound that breaks the room's stillness is your sniffles and the sound of the shears. You try to ignore the sight of your curls falling to the ground, but the pile keeps growing. When Astarion finishes up with the back of your head, he moves to the front and begins to fix your bangs and tackle the right side of your head. His lips are in a concentrated pout as he intently layered your hair.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion stands up, dusting your hair off your shoulders. You're on your feet and rushing to the floor-length mirror across the room. You freeze midstep just before the mirror; swallowing hard, you fist your shirt.

At first look, you're genuinely startled; it takes you a moment to recognize yourself—your face, skin, eyes, mouth, everything all the same. But your hair is so drastically different it's like you're a different person. Once down to your mid-back, the hair sat just above your shoulder, gentle curls falling in ringlets. Strikingly, half the hair was shaved, giving the whole look a sharp edge. It was much thinner than before, and you felt somehow lighter. It didn't look bad, but you weren't sure how you felt.

"What do you think?" Astarion whispers from behind you, reflection absent in the mirror.

You raise your hand and run it through the curls; they jump back up upon release. Turning around, you look up at him. "Do you think it looks good?" You redirect, not knowing how to answer his question.

Astarion smiles and pulls you in by the waist. Cupping your jaw, he gives you a sensual kiss that has you melting. He quickly pulls away, "I am quite a magnificent hairstylist. It's just another of my many talents."

You shove him, and Astarion laughs brightly. You try to move away, but Astarion tightens his grip. "My love, your hair is just a small part of you. You could have all your hair fall out this instant, and I would find you just as beautiful."

"Really?" He nods, and you tackle him with another kiss. Gods, you loved this man.

"Though I would certainly miss pulling your curls when I-"

"Astarion!"

"Did I forget to mention this look suits you very well. Make you look positively delectable." And then your lost in each other.

So... yeah this is kinda what I wish I had when I cut my hair. Not that I burnt my hair off but after i cut my hair, all I heard was how people miss my curls, and that I shouldn't have cut it. Got me thinking about if my hair was really that important. I don't know what i'm trying to say anymore........

Let me know what y'all think

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog

Want to be added? Interact with this post.

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hello! I hope you've had a nice day:)

🤭I really love your works! Could you write an Astarion fic where the (GN) reader is equally as flirty as he is? For example, reader and Astarion being the only ones awake in the night and all in all- just flirty talk.

(Not implying anything but.. Hypothetically. Hypothetically speaking, you could sprinkle in some spicy stuff too)

I'm sorry if that's not your thing! Feel free to ignore this 🧡

Leave You Speechless

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : while you keep watch over camp, a boring job, astarion keeps you company by the fire

warnings : tiniest bit sexual towards the end but nothing NSFW, PG 13 at best.

a/n : i kinda love this, loved the idea, hope i did it justice.

Sparks flew from the wood of the fire, landing in front of your leather adorned feet. You hadn’t bothered to take off your equipment when you returned to camp, and the party seemed to take this as a sign that you wanted to be on watch for the night. You didn’t, of course, but who are you to deny your duty. Everyone else did it, your turn was inevitable. You just wished it wasn’t so boring. 

You picked at the fabric of your bedroll, fire crackling in the silence of the night. Maybe Halsin was awake? Or Astarion? Perhaps Gale was awake and he could keep your company with his magic.

“Well..don’t you look happy..” Your eyes flicker up to meet a pale face, red eyes creased in amusement, a small smirk playing at his lips. Of course he would be awake, only to annoy you. He takes no time to sit beside you, attentive to your features, his gaze never leaving your eyes.

 “Careful darling, if you keep your eyebrows creased so angrily, you’ll get wrinkles.” His comment only makes you scrunch your face up more, a slender finger poking at the wrinkle between your eyebrows. 

Without much thought you take your own finger and poke it in between his eyebrows, “You should take your own advice Astarion, clearly you’ve been angry a lot over your lifetime, aged quite poorly.” He scoffs, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything, speechless at your insult. 

“Please..I have no wrinkles, I cannot age , don’t be stupid.” He pulls his finger away from you, now feeling at his own face, clearly you’ve struck an insecurity. 

You feel your eyes roll at his antics, “ Cut it out with the dramatics, Astarion. I only tease. You should know how beautiful you are, I would expect as much from your vanity.” You throw a small piece of wood on the fire, looking away from him.

“Of course I know.. I just love the way it sounds coming from your lips,” You shoot him a look. You weren’t unfamiliar with his flirting, in fact it wasn’t the first night that he had managed to wriggle his way by your side. Though this night would surely be the same, he would flirt with you till the son came up and you would pretend not to enjoy his company. God forbid he ever found out how much you truly enjoyed being around him, let alone that your feelings for him were more than platonic. 

“Then perhaps I should compliment you more often then?” Astarion seems to be pulled towards you, shuffling closer to your side, intrigued by your willingness to comply with his flirtatiousness. “Oh..but then..I would never wanna inflate that unfortunate ego of yours..my love.” A soft poke on his nose, and his eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

He huffs, “You tease too much. You’ll admit you’re in love with me soon enough.” 

“In love with you,” a scoff falls from your lips, and you're sure your annoyance sounds more superficial than you would’ve wished, “now you’ve started fabricating my feelings in your head? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one in love with me, not the other way around.”

“A shame your intelligence is rather lacking, or else you’d know better. You see through me transparently, darling.” He’s so close to you, a tease with intent to deceive and lower your guard, and you almost fall for it. 

You push him away with your elbow, only hard enough to get his face away from you, but his body stays close. “What is it that you're trying to gain here, Astarion?” The tone you carry your words with seems to jab into his skin, the way he recoils away from you makes you almost regret it.

“Ughh..a moment ago you were referring to me as ‘my love’ and now you speak my name in such a sullen tone,” his slender fingers move to grasp at your own, you don’t pull away though you wish you would, “why must you deny me?” 

He brings your hand up to his lip delicately, not wanting to startle you, as if you were a scared animal and you might run away at any moment. Though, you realized, that depiction might not be entirely untrue. You allowed it, breath hitching as his soft lips made contact with your knuckle, curving upwards in the gentlest of smiles. 

“There..much better,” another gentle kiss, to each and everyone of your knuckle, “I like you much better when you're not arguing with your infatuation.” 

“I like you much better when your mouth is occupied.”

“Perhaps we can find a way to occupy it then?” He’s staring up at you, pleading through his lashes, with your hand still limply held in his hand. He won’t let go, not even if you denied him now, he wouldn’t let go. His fingers are entangling themselves in yours, squeezing down. 

“You’re absurd.” 

“And you’re breathtaking...” It silences your voice completely, and his grip on your hand seems to tighten. 

The world around you seems to take a pause along with you, the wind ceases to blow, holding its breath alongside you. There is no wildlife trilling or chirping anymore, silencing themselves to offer Astarion and you a full stage to yourselves. Even the snores, soft and aggressive from either side of the camp, go silent. They’re being blocked out, your head filled with Astarions image, your ears filled with the sound of his breathing. And your eyes, occupied by the way his tongue pokes out to swipe against his bottom lip, the way his own eyes dart along your face to analyze your features, the way his hand twitches in your own when your lips puff out. 

In a moment of distracted, thoughtless boldness, too bold for your own good, fiendish desperation controlling your actions in full, your free hand moves to grasp onto the side of face to pull him in closer. He moves, under your control fully, pupils blown out in arousal. But then you hesitate, and his face becomes still in front of yours, lips hovering against each other. You let out a huff at your actions, disappointed in the way you must constantly fight against your desires, the air caught in your throat is released in a heavy sigh against his lips. 

“It’s not like you to be so undecided..” His breath is feverish and heavy, tickling against your skin, his lips brushing against your own with every syllable. He is pleading with his eyes, fingers twitching against your own once more, too excited to control his own movements. 

“Not like you to be so,” Before you can utter a rebuttal your words are cut short, Astarions lips finally connect to your own. Clearly he has grown impatient, and it shows in the way his fangs nip at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow it, his tongue passes your lips to wrestle with yours, and a whimper vibrates through him leaving your head spinning. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you would’ve fallen over. 

He places one hand behind your body, using his own to push you down against your bedroll, without releasing your lips once. With hesitation he separates from you, breath heavy once more. Distracted, he doesn’t look at you, his fingers tracing along your waist until he meets the waistline of your leather pants.

“For once, darling, I would love to leave you speechless and not the other way around..allow me, won't you?” .” He smirks, looking up at you now with a mischievous glint in his eyes, fingers playing with the zipper of your pants. 

“Gods you’re annoying..” You shoot him a glare, though you doubt it’s very menacing judging by the way your breath hitches and your cheeks are absolutely flushed, he tugs at the waistband pulling your leather pants down to your mid thigh. 

But then you regain your edge, “Say please, and then maybe, I’ll allow it.” You place your hand back on his cheek, holding his face up, and the way he leans his cheek deeper into your hand almost makes you crumble again. 

“Please, darling, pretty please..let me touch you.”

“That’s very good, my love.” You try to hide the way your breath leaves your lips in a shaky wave as you nod for him to proceed. He wastes no time as your pants are suddenly pulled down and off, Astarion climbing back up your legs. 

His lips tug into a smile, lowering his head between your thighs, and you let out a whine as his teeth connect with the skin of your inner thigh. When he looks up to you, through the strands of his curls that have fallen in front of his face, a thin line of blood coats his lip. The way his tongue licks it away, sends a shiver through you.

And the look he gives you, worship heavy in his eyes, makes you aware of just how long this night is going to be for you. 

[pastrydragon]

The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

[chimimon]

Your Words

Astarion x f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: suggestive, like more so than I have previously written, I think… jealously, biting, and it ends pretty abruptly because I don’t plan on posting smut here, so sorry about that y’all. If I missed any tags let me know! Please! Like fr send an ask my way and let chi know!!

& what I have to say is… This game has me in a chokehold. Baldurs Gate 3 has me in a headlock. Like unimaginably so. I’m hyper fixated all over again but this time a stupid fruity vampire calls me beautiful and asks to bite my neck and I asjdjwwsjidkekwakksdnb :) oh, and trigger warning for Halsin mention. <- E.P.

No eyeful sufficed; it was not enough to simply imagine being intertwined when the sudden ache began a week or so ago while Astarion had been playing with a blade. It was one of those things he did often enough to be called routine, ordinary, or unsurprising. What did not happen as often or routinely was how keen your attention had been on such fixed activities. A dozen times over you had traced his veins, memorizing when they were most defined on his knuckles, his forearms and whether it led to the toss of his knife or not. Worse than that, his sleeves were rolled up and around the two-minute mark he noticed your hypnotic gaze. 

Curious, Astarion wanted to see for just how long he could keep your attention as he made a show of stretching his fingers afterwards, adjusting his sleeves, rolling his wrists and shoulders before sitting onto the floor with his head in his hands to watch the fire from his tent. Only then did he turn his attention to you with a raised brow and all-knowing smirk. It was obvious you were unaware of your staring as you quickly turned away. 

But it felt as though every ten minutes you would find something new about him to gawk at, and Astarion read you all too well. In frozen observation you hardly blinked in between shallow breathes. The deeper into thought you dove, the more your shoulders sunk, and the more your shoulders sunk, so dropped your eyelids. 

The attention was reminiscent of your behavior at the Tiefling party. After he made his tipsy proposal, he carefully studied just how aware you were of the events to come in every interaction you had before the night ended. How restless you seemed when you lied coyly on your rolled bed. Or just how often you touched your face and neck as you met him in your shared hidden place. Astarion loved how clearly he took up your mind, how blatant it was. He reveled in your tunneled attention and patiently waited for you to give him the word, or a signal of sorts, feeling that it would be nice to have you initiate intimacy as he was secure in your thoughtfully lustful desire. 

But no move was made. 

Tonight, it seemed Gale had no issue making conversation with you from across the campfire as you two were loudly going over alchemy notes from a journal Astarion picked up just for you. You began to pull out leaves and branches from a pouch in your lap, holding them to fire for light as Gale leaned in studiously. It didn’t mean anything, Astarion was sure of it, but if he thought that if he was newly recruited or hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought you and Gale were a thing within this flame lit scene which burned into Astarion mind as he replayed the last six days. 

It was as though you were scared to be near Astarion, to get close to him, to talk to him, but with him alone. Watching him the way animals watch prey, but without any stalk in your stride, without a wiggle or means to pounce. Just heavy glances and light sighs. Karlach had snapped you out of this state a couple of times as it was in her nature to melt you into an easy, giggling mess. Wyll found something that reminded him of some grand adventure while walking a trail and you two seemed to bond over the found item, making Astarion snort. Shadowheart had also decided to warm up in your company and grew intent with whatever you had to say. The way she looked at you seemed far too soft and sticky for friendship and her demeanor buzzed inside of Astarion’s memory. 

But the straw that broke the camel's back was Halsin. Despite you currently seated across Astarion, now handing over some mugwort to Gale, he could no longer ignore having overheard Halsin’s request to keep you company, and how inconsiderately close he was to Astarion’s tent moments ago. By then Astarion was just waiting for you to stop by to talk about it, unsure and indifferent to whether you wanted his permission to canoodle with Halsin. But when you b-lined to the campfire, a suspicious creeping feeling pushed him onto his feet to be seated on the log in front of you. Since he became aware of your careful watch, he noticed how keenly you avoided him and began to wonder if you watched him the way rabbits watch dogs; to run. 

Gale would not stop talking, so Astarion took it upon himself to quietly appear beside him, peering over his shoulder with a tilted stare at you. When your eyes met and widened, Gale slowly, and unknowingly turned to Astarion before he could be cartoonishly and audibly spooked by the elven vampire's sudden appearance. Gale took it as a sign to leave and politely excused himself from your company. Those blood-soaked eyes followed Gale until he was hidden behind a couple bushes toward his tent. 

Astarion seemed to be squinting, his eyes moving from yours, down to your mouth, before landing on your lap. You scrunched your nose when his gaze returned and he rolled his eyes before letting out an annoyed, airy laugh. “My love, should I be concerned?” 

You were obviously uncomfortable with your lap sewn shut, and your posture too taut. “Concerned? About what?” Your brows furrowed before opening. Every muscle melted as you tilted your head, mirroring him. "I mean, I haven’t taken Halsin on any offer to play hunter and bear.” 

He leaned back, deepening his stare, annoyed at your stiff disposition when that stupid wizard got to have you malleable and full of conversation. 

You nervously smiled and averted your eyes. “You know I would ask if I ever wanted to-” 

“Would...” He interrupted. “Of course, you knew I overheard his little, steamy proposal. But that’s not why I’m hurt.” 

It was written all over your face that you were replaying the conversation with Halsin, trying to figure out where you may have gone wrong or if you sounded too open to the opportunity. Asatrion continued when you began to chew on your bottom lip. “Darling, you hardly look me in the eye anymore.” His chest deflated as he huffed out another whiny plume of air. “I mean, before I at least knew that you could talk to me about, well, all of this.” 

All of this swiftly caught your attention. 

“Astarion.” You calmly said, ignoring the ache you pressed between your thighs as you ran your hands over your lap. “What do you mean by ‘this’?” You could swear your heart was beating loud enough to let everyone in camp know that Astarion was the item of your mind consuming lechery. Gods, you could knead dough with how hard your palms pressed into your thighs in some feeble attempt to calm a carnal throb. 

“This.” He whined with his hands apart, referring to you two. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been keeping an awfully close eye on me, and more than that you’ve kept your distance.”  

“Oh.” You whispered, ripping away the steady eye contact. 

“Oh? What do you mean oh-?” 

“Astarion.” You stood up, awkwardly fidgeting your feet before you rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes. “Astarion can I... I can, um.” 

Everything stiff and cold was interrupted with nervous stretching, like you were forcing yourself to warm up in his presence, and he was unsure if he should be bothered or relieved by it. 

With mean sarcasm he said, “Your words, darling." 

“Don’t- I mean.” You softly snapped, making him nervous. “Could we um… can we maybe speak somewhere private?” 

Astarion shrugged, lifted off the log before motioning that you lead the way. When the way led to his tent, he got anxious. To him the conversation could go a couple of ways. One of them being you were too nervous to ask to be with Halsin, and that despite him willing to grant his permission, given his current mood, it would be reluctant permission to say the least. The other way was that you were unsure how to tell Astarion you couldn’t do it anymore. It meaning to be with him, and for that he couldn’t blame you, at least not honestly. The fear of you abandoning him after one good night, in what felt forever ago, grew as you motioned him to sit across from you, both of you on your knees as he watched you struggle once again to look at him in the eye. 

He could practically hear it in your inhale, see it in your clenched fists over your knees, and in your eye contact as you finally faced him. 

In your mind, everything felt intimate, close, hot even. You could feel your fingernails dig into your palms and you were sure you’d bleed if you balled your fists further. “I’m not sure how to word this without...” 

He held in a vain breath, slowly nodding while you searched for the words. 

“This is so stupid.” You grimaced, bring a knuckle to your teeth. “Astarion can I just-” 

“You can see him.” He said with feigned relief. 

“Who?” Your hands relaxed. 

“Halsin.” 

“What? No, wait.” Your whole body melted as you tried so hard to read the man in front of you. “What the hells are you talking about?”  “You don’t have to be so embarrassed, I mean,” Astarion leaned back, sighing more dramatically as he had already come to terms with surrendering you over to him. “I mean who would I be to keep you-” 

“Stop.” You held out your hands, shaking them with the same vigor used to shake your head. “Good hells Astarion, no.” You laughed, finally feeling ready to be open about your needs. 

Astarion shot back up with a raised brow, tilting his head again as he drummed on his lap. “Okay, well now I really don’t know what you want to talk about.” 

The growing silence was easy to bear in the sight of your smile, shy and bashful, making him a little hopeful that this was going to be an easier conversation. 

“Great because I’m going to sound stupid.” You sheepishly smiled. 

“As if I just didn’t.” He sucked in his teeth. “Come on darling, spit it out.” 

“Not if you’re going to ask me to spit it out.” 

“My sweet.” The snap in his tone caused you to really look at his face, and he looked anxious. His brows were together and lifted, he may as well have been pouting but you were finally noticing it. “If it’s distance you want, I can provide.” He looked down past your head before his eyes trailed around his space. “I mean you don’t have to go as far as to fighting battles as far from me as humanly possible.” 

“Oh, good gods no.” You leaned down to catch his gaze once more. “Wait no that’s not what this is.” 

“Then what the fuck is this?” 

“I’m just feeling very…” you flicked your hands in the air like you were pushing away the anxiety. “I’ve been feeling rather needy lately.” 

“Needy?” 

“I don’t want to spell it out.” 

“I think I need you to.” 

“Damn it, Astarion.” It was clear he was going to quietly wait, as he was also sitting in front of your exit. “Needy, needy meaning… aroused... I’ve been very horny, lately.” With both hands on your face, you hunched over. “I’m sorry,” was muffled into your palms before your hands slid down to see his reaction. 

Astarion had a bashful but at ease smile on his face. He let out a sharp laugh until he finally really looked at you. You were gripping your thighs, your eyes dilated and round. The animal like stare and careful distance kind of made sense. “And I thought I scared you away, sweetheart.” 

“Quite the opposite.” You whispered, unable to maintain eye contact “So, if you’ll excuse me-” 

 Astarion hummed as he dropped in. His hands planted themselves on either side of your lap, his nose inches away from yours. “And if I won’t?” 

Paralyzed, you held your breath and could feel your resolve snapping. “Astarion, I just… I said… are you sure?” He coyly rolled his eyes, pretending to think about it. “I can be patient.” You breathed, leaning back before he quickly scooted in, catching your chin in his hand before you could retreat. 

“Oh, don’t go running away again. Not when I want you.” He was studying your eyes and lips. You seemed so lost in his tent. “Not when I need you.” 

“You’ve had me, and I promise I can wait.” You whispered. “Please don’t tease me.” The quiet begging pulled at his chest and his desire. 

Then Astarion smiled wickedly. “Don’t think I can’t smell the arousal from less than a foot in front of my nose.” Quickly he snatched your wrist. If your hand were a rabbit, and your wrist its neck, he nuzzled his cheek against its head, playfully biting the neck of the rabbit before you could try to pull away. “And I don’t care to tease pretty things like you,” poisonous desire spilled from his mouth as he asked, “But when you say needy, what exactly to you require of me?” 

Mindlessly you shook your head as you feebly fought to take your hand back. 

“Your words, darling.” 

“Astarion, please this is-” 

“Embarrassing?” He purred. 

You held your breath as he faced your palm, from the corner of he could feel the heat in your face emit on his as he sighed again. “This couldn’t be nearly as embarrassing as the competition I have, my love.” A shit eating grin plastered onto his face as confusion appeared on yours. “You know... when your hand gets more of affection than I do.” 

Humiliated and hot. You were completely humiliated and hot as he waited for you to respond. 

“I mean your I’m sure your fingers can only do so much for so long in my place.” 

Past embarrassment you felt it necessary to say “Astarion, you know that I need you beyond anything you can do for me.” 

“So, you have been touching yourself, naughty girl,” he kissed your middle and ring finger without breaking eye contact. 

“I- Astarion I wouldn’t have,” you balled up your hand in which his thumb smoothed it open again. With little force you pushed forward to cup his face with him still latched in your wrist. “I just- gods I just worry you wouldn’t say no if you didn’t want to just because I’m asking.” 

“I do say no, & I have.” His hold loosened as he pulled back, taking in the soft concern on your face before the thought of that hand between your thighs flashed in his mind. Astarion’s eyes lids dropped, your kind concern caused him to be hard with arousal while his ruby eyes glistened. “Must I worry you won’t ask even if I’ll honestly say yes?” 

Your bottom lip was white between your teeth, so he reached out to hold your jaw, his fingers pressing in as you went doe-eyed and dazed. He was so close to your lips, so he whispered on your mouth. “Go on, my sweetheart. Ask.” 

“Astarion…” his breath tickled your bottom lip as your stomach dropped. 

“Yes, darling?”  

“Please…” you voice trailed off as the humiliation of it all set in. 

“Please what?” Astarion lifted you up as he lifted on his knees, looming over you as he brushed your hair behind one ear with his free hand. “I don’t think I know what you want.” 

With all the excitement this brought, you quietly asked. “I want you to please kiss me. Please kiss me, Astarion.” And without a second lost, he pulled you into his hungry kiss, cupping your face with both hands as he pushed into you. 

© 2024 chimimon

[istoleyoursk1n]

WAIT WAIT HERES ONE! All companions drunk off their asses in a karaoke session while Tav is the only sober one😭

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Tav being sober while all the other companions are drunk off their asses in a karaoke session

(I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS HELP HAHAHA)

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

Says he's only there for the drinks and to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves.

Ends up being part of the people who are being absolute fools of themselves.

He’s the type to say “oh I can’t siNg” only to grab the mic out of your hands and start balling out the lyrics of Bad Romance like it's nobody’s business.

He’s tame at first, enjoying himself as he watches the shitshow unfold but four drinks in and he’s already hoarding the microphone.

I like to think he somehow becomes better at singing the drunker he gets.

Accidentally hits high notes and he makes it everyone's problem.

Probably slapped someone by accident when they were trying to get the microphone back from his drunken ass.

He becomes far more expressive and loud the more he drinks which only makes it all the more fun to be honest.

Tried to have a sing-off with Wyll. Somehow ends up with Astarion threatening to bite him.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

Very confused.

He came here for bonding time with friends only to be surrounded by feral drunks.

He’s definitely not the one singing but Astarion kept giving him wine and he kept drinking and now he’s halfway into either drunk crying or drunk ranting.

He’s the type to start talking about his ex again once drunk.

Had a very informative conversation with the wall.

Fell asleep for about five seconds only to be woken up by the sound of loud screaming into the microphone wonderful singing.

He likes suggesting songs for the group to sing but he's not even including himself in said singing. The least he does is clap his hands.

Remember when I said he’d either drunk cry or drunk rant? Guess what, he’s doing both now and either Halsin or you are trying their damn best to support him.

Try to ask him what he's crying about and he wouldn't even know what the fuck he’s crying about. Proceeds to give you a long instructive speech about the importance of how one pronounces certain spells. (He accidentally activated said spell too).

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

He drank exactly one bottle of alcohol and called it quits. He’s practically as sober as you right now.

The most tame of the group by far but he hardly has any complaints about the chaos, he's having so much fun!

If Astarion isn't hoarding the microphone, he’s the one singing and he’s really good at it. This man can sing and he figured now would be the best time to finally show it.

He’s being as humble as he can but you can tell he’s putting in more effort than he should for a drunken karaoke party.

This man is literally singing each song as if he’s performing his own concert. Ten songs in and somehow his voice box still hasn't given out.

Started having a sing-off with Astarion and he could hardly take it seriously. He wasn’t even drunk but he kept laughing and when he laughs Astarion laughs and they both ended up becoming a mess.

He and Astarion were probably the ones bickering over who’d get to hold the microphone.

However, he always ends up giving the microphone to both because of his gentlemanly ways and this man can't say no to Astarion even if his life fucking depended on it.

HE SANG AN ENTIRE MUSICAL SOUNDTRACK.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

SCREAMING INTO THE MICROPHONE.

Don’t ever give her the damn microphone or pick any goddamn song less you want your ears to bleed.

She loves metal/rock songs way too much and she will death metal scream every single word as if she was being dragged back down to the pits of hell.

She’s drunk off her ass as well and it gets worse because she keeps finishing people’s left over drinks.

She’s so unbelievably hyper when she's drunk and in a festive mood that during the whole karaoke session, she broke the damn table.

She laughed so hard right after that for a moment she forgot to fucking breath.

She constantly has to stand up and move about or dance to the music because she just has so much energy in her right now. It's damn well impressive how she somehow never tires.

The thing is, her laugh is contagious so when she starts laughing someone else probably starts laughing as well and it all becomes an even bigger disaster.

Broke the doorknob on her way to head out and grab more drinks.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

Didn't want to be there.

Everyone was so loud and obnoxious that it was honestly a tad bit annoying for her. She could have been doing something far more productive and instead-

Never mind that, now she's having a drinking contest with Shadowheart in the midst of all the screaming and singing.

Where did the shot glasses go?! Oh, its with her.

Suddenly, taking multiple shots of alcohol will help improve her tolerance to an array of different substances that may pose a threat to her bodily autonomy. That’s an excuse, she just doesn't want to seem unproductive.

Not the one singing at all but she keeps finishing the bottles before anyone else can even get a taste of them.

Surprisingly, she has a really high alcohol tolerance. She’d probably be 10 shots in and still appear as sober as you.

Though, please take the liquor away from her as soon as possible. When she actually gets drunk two things happen. She either becomes more aggressive than she ever was before or even worse, she becomes nicer.

Amidst it all, you may see a snicker or two come out of her, one that she’d be trying so hard to hide. Truth be told, she would have grown to love her chaotic bunch of weirdo friends and she wouldn't have regretted a thing.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

Actually one of the people singing! When Astarion and Wyll aren't battling it out over the microphone of course.

Depending on her current mood, she's either going all out on Mitski songs or rocking it out with Karlach.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Washing Machine Heart.

Before she could sing another song, she was ever so quickly pulled into a drinking match with Lae’zel in which the winner was undetermined; because Karlach broke the damn table with the shot glasses on it.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Bring Me To Life, part 2.

When she gets really drunk she either becomes louder or eerily quiet.

She’ll just quietly sit in the corner and watch and sometimes it's just the creepiest thing ever.

But in the cases where she does get loud, she’s off laughing her ass off over the chaos unfolding right before her eyes. She would have been talking shit along with Astarion if it weren't for the fact that he was quite literally having a wrestling match with Wyll over the microphone.

Probably fell asleep after a while and somehow never woke up until the next day.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

Very confused 2.0.

He tries to refrain from drinking as much as possible because he knows just how embarrassing he becomes so he kind of just smiles and sits there during the first half.

Besides he really doesn't want to burden you with having to be the only sober person in the party.

The least he’d be doing is very subtly dancing to the beat. Do you know how dads would do those little awkward dances during parties? Exactly that.

Either you, Shadowheart, or Astarion coaxed him into finally drinking and things began to go downhill from there.

The thing is, when he drinks, he can drink a lot, it's just that he prefers not to. However, the real reason he can drink a lot is that he forgets to set a limit for himself especially when his mind is so scattered.

Became oddly clingy towards you in ways that you’d never expect. Suddenly he’s blurting out random things he feels about you and the others in the most wholesome way imaginable.

If it isn't you, he’s confessing his “”undying love”” to the first person he sees.

Stared at a plant for five minutes.

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