#Halsin x m!tav

[moonselune]

oh nooo, tavs tent got flooded by rain ans now theyre forced to share a bed with someone! can i rq a one bed troupe with male tav with karlach, wyll, astarion, halsin?

oh noooo how could this happen??

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The storm rolled in unexpectedly, drenching the camp in a relentless downpour. You were still trying to salvage what you could when a deafening crack of thunder shook the ground, sending the rivers of rainwater cascading directly into your tent. By the time you managed to crawl out, sputtering and soaked, your belongings were hopelessly waterlogged.

Karlach, of course, was there to witness your predicament. She jogged over, her broad grin illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning.

“Rough night, huh, soldier?” she teased, shaking her head at the state of your tent.

You groaned, wringing out your shirt. “You could say that. Looks like I’m going to be sleeping under the stars tonight—well, under the rain, more like.”

“Nonsense!” Karlach’s voice was as warm as the heat radiating from her. She slapped a hand on your shoulder, the gesture surprisingly gentle. “You can bunk with me. My tent’s dry, and, uh, let’s just say I come with central heating.”

The thought made your stomach twist with equal parts relief and trepidation. Sharing a tent—no, a bed—with Karlach? The woman you’d been nursing an embarrassingly obvious crush on for weeks? Your throat went dry despite the rain drenching you.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

She cut you off with a wave of her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll freeze to death out here otherwise. Let’s go.”

Her tent was modest but well-kept, and most importantly, dry. You hesitated at the entrance, dripping onto the canvas floor. Karlach turned, hands on her hips, and raised a brow.

“Get in here before you catch something, will ya?” She rummaged through her belongings, tossing a dry blanket your way. “Strip out of that wet stuff and wrap yourself up. I’ll, uh, look the other way if you’re shy.”

You managed a weak laugh, your heart thudding in your chest as you turned your back to her. Peeling off your soaked clothes felt awkward under her presence, even though she kept her word and busied herself adjusting the bedroll. Once you were as dry as you could get, you turned around, clutching the blanket like a shield.

Karlach motioned to the bedroll, sitting down and patting the spot beside her. “Come on. I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Her teasing tone was lighthearted, but it didn’t stop your face from burning as you awkwardly settled beside her. The proximity was unavoidable; the bedroll wasn’t made for two people. Your shoulder brushed against hers, and despite the chill of the rain, her warmth seeped through the thin blanket you shared.

“You’re shivering,” she said, her voice softening. “Hang on.”

Before you could protest, Karlach shifted closer, wrapping her arm around you. The heat from her infernal heart radiated through her skin, chasing away the chill almost instantly. It was overwhelming—comforting, yes, but also intensely intimate.

“You’re like a living furnace,” you muttered, trying to sound casual despite the way your pulse hammered in your ears.

She laughed, a sound that was equal parts amusement and kindness. “Perks of the infernal engine, huh? You should take advantage of it. No sense in freezing when you’ve got me around.”

The words were innocent enough, but the tension in the air was anything but. Every small movement felt magnified—the way her arm lingered around your shoulders, the way her breath tickled your neck when she laughed. You could swear she noticed your nervousness because her fingers gave your arm a small squeeze, grounding you.

For a while, you sat in companionable silence, the sound of the rain pattering against the tent mingling with the steady hum of Karlach’s warmth. But the tension remained, unspoken and heavy.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she said eventually, tilting her head to look at you. Her voice was low, almost hesitant.

“Just... thinking,” you managed, cursing yourself for how obvious your voice sounded.

Her brow furrowed, her expression softening. “You’re not still worried about being a bother, are you? Because if you are—”

“No!” you blurted, turning to face her. You realized too late how close you were, your noses almost brushing. Your voice caught in your throat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Her gaze flicked between your eyes and your lips, something unspoken passing through her expression. But then she smiled—gentle, teasing, and yet somehow protective. “You’re really something, you know that?”

The moment stretched, and your heart thundered in your chest. You weren’t sure what would’ve happened if she hadn’t leaned back, breaking the tension.

“Get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’ll keep you warm.”

As you lay down beside her, her arm still draped around you, you couldn’t help but think about how much you wanted to stay like this forever. It was comforting, yes, but it was also maddening—being so close to her, feeling her heat, and yet knowing the line between you remained unspoken.

But for now, you let yourself savor the moment, even if it left you yearning for something more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The storm came out of nowhere, drenching the camp in sheets of rain so thick you could barely see beyond your own hands. You’d thought your tent was secure, but the deluge proved you wrong. By the time you realized the rain was seeping in, it was too late—your bedroll was soaked, your belongings waterlogged. Swearing under your breath, you tried to salvage what you could, shivering in the cold.

“Oh, darling,” Astarion’s lilting voice rang out from the shadows, cutting through the sound of the rain. “What have you gotten yourself into this time?”

You turned to see him leaning against a nearby tree, his arms crossed, an infuriating smirk playing on his lips. Despite the weather, he looked immaculate, as always, his pale skin almost glowing against the dark backdrop of the storm.

“My tent flooded,” you muttered, trying not to sound as miserable as you felt.

Astarion’s smirk widened as he sauntered closer, looking you up and down with a mockingly critical eye. “My, my, such a pitiful sight. You’re dripping like a wet dog. And here I thought you’d have more... dignity.”

You shot him a glare, though your teeth chattering probably undermined the effect. “Unless you’re here to help, Astarion, maybe keep walking.”

“Help?” He placed a hand dramatically on his chest, feigning offense. “Darling, I’m not in the business of charity. But... I suppose I could take pity on you, just this once. After all, I’m nothing if not magnanimous.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” he drawled, leaning in closer, his crimson eyes glinting with mischief, “you’re welcome to my tent. Though, I must warn you, it comes with a price.”

“What price?”

He tapped a finger against his lips, pretending to think. “Hmm... let’s see. Enduring my company, for one. My delightful teasing, for another. And, of course, you’ll have to control yourself. Sharing close quarters with someone as devastatingly attractive as me? Quite the challenge, no?”

You flushed, heat creeping up your neck despite the cold. “I’ll manage.”

Astarion’s tent was—unsurprisingly—pristine. The interior was lit with a soft glow from a single lantern, casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls. His bedroll was luxurious compared to yours, layered with thick blankets and pillows that looked far too indulgent for a camp in the wilderness.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, gesturing grandly. “And by that, I mean don’t ruin anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious as you stepped inside. Your wet clothes clung to you, and you were acutely aware of every move you made. Astarion, of course, noticed.

“Oh, do take those off,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “You’ll freeze otherwise, and I’m not about to have you shivering all over me all night.”

“I’m fine—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he interrupted, already digging through his belongings. He tossed you a dry shirt and a blanket. “Here. Change. I’ll avert my eyes, though it’s hardly necessary.”

Your face burned as you turned your back to him, peeling off your soaked clothes and quickly pulling on the shirt he’d given you. It was soft, and it smelled faintly of him—a mix of something earthy and rich, with a hint of sweetness.

When you turned back around, Astarion was already lounging on the bedroll, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a smug expression.

“You clean up nicely,” he remarked, patting the spot beside him. “Now, come along. Let’s get this over with before you catch your death.”

Reluctantly, you sat down, pulling the blanket over yourself. The space was tight, and you couldn’t avoid brushing against him as you lay down. His body was cool, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine—not from the cold, but from the unspoken tension that hung between you like a storm cloud.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

“Not really,” you muttered, though that was a lie.

He chuckled, his breath brushing against your ear. “I can feel your pulse racing, you know. Are you nervous, darling? Or is it just... me?”

You turned your head to glare at him, only to realize how close he was—his face mere inches from yours, his crimson eyes glinting with something unreadable. Your breath caught, and for a moment, the world outside the tent seemed to disappear.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “I’m only teasing. Mostly.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

Astarion grinned, his fangs catching the light. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Despite his teasing, he shifted slightly, giving you a bit more space. The tension between you remained, unspoken but palpable, as the rain continued to patter against the tent. It was both maddening and exhilarating, being so close to him, knowing he could probably hear every erratic beat of your heart.

Eventually, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with you. As you started to drift off, you felt him shift beside you, his voice a quiet murmur in the dark.

“Sleep well, darling,” he said, his tone surprisingly sincere.

And despite everything—despite the teasing, the tension, and the racing thoughts that refused to quiet—you did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The rain had started as a drizzle, an annoyance more than anything, but by midnight it had turned into a full-blown storm. You’d woken to the sound of water pooling under your bedroll, the fabric of your tent flapping wildly in the wind. It didn’t take long to realize your tent wasn’t holding up—water seeped in through every seam, soaking everything in its path.

Soaked and miserable, you stumbled into the camp’s common area, clutching your blanket and trying not to curse the heavens too loudly. That’s when Wyll, ever the gentleman, emerged from his own tent, lantern in hand.

“You look like a drowned rat,” he teased gently, his voice warm despite the storm.

“My tent flooded,” you muttered, feeling like a fool as you wrung out your blanket.

Wyll’s brow furrowed in concern, and he quickly stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You can’t stay out here in this. Come, share my tent. It’s dry, and there’s enough room for both of us.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to—”

“I insist,” Wyll interrupted, giving you a reassuring smile. “I’d never leave a friend out in this storm.”

Wyll’s tent was cozy, far better maintained than yours. The interior was neat and organized, his bedroll lined with extra blankets that gave it an almost luxurious appearance. A small lantern cast a warm glow, the storm muffled by the sturdy canvas walls.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to the bedroll. “You take the left side.”

You hesitated, feeling a little self-conscious as you stepped inside. Your clothes clung to you, damp and uncomfortable, and you were acutely aware of the unspoken tension between the two of you. Wyll had always been kind, always so composed, but there was something about the way his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long that made your heart race.

“You’re shivering,” he observed, pulling a dry blanket from his pack. “Get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death.”

You flushed, your mind immediately racing to places it shouldn’t. “I’m fine,” you said quickly, though your teeth were chattering.

Wyll raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. “Fine, is it? If you fall ill, it’s on my conscience. Here.” He turned his back, giving you privacy as he busied himself with the lantern. “I promise I won’t peek.”

Reluctantly, you stripped out of your wet clothes, replacing them with the spare shirt and pants Wyll handed you. The fabric was soft and warm, and it smelled of him—a subtle mix of cedarwood and something earthy, like freshly turned soil.

When you finally settled onto the bedroll, Wyll joined you, keeping a respectful distance. But the space was tight, and no matter how you tried to position yourself, you couldn’t avoid brushing against him.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yeah,” you murmured, though your heart was pounding in your chest.

The storm raged on outside, but inside the tent, the air was thick with an entirely different kind of tension. You were hyper-aware of every little movement, every rustle of the blankets, every time his arm brushed against yours.

“You’re still shivering,” Wyll said after a moment.

“I’m fine—”

“You’re not,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “Here.” Before you could protest, he shifted closer, draping the blanket over both of you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Body heat. It’s the fastest way to warm up.”

Your breath hitched as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. He was so close, his scent enveloping you, his touch sending shivers down your spine for an entirely different reason now. You were just glad you were facing away from him for less than gentlemanly reasons.

“Better?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to trust your voice.

The minutes stretched on, the storm outside fading into the background as the tension between you grew. Every time his hand shifted against your shoulder, every time his breath brushed against your temple, it sent your thoughts spiraling.

At one point, you turned your head slightly, only to find his face inches from yours. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you felt charged, every unspoken feeling hovering just out of reach. Wyll was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat and pulling back slightly.

“You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a little too even, as though he were trying to mask his own thoughts.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely audible. “Good idea.”

But sleep didn’t come easily. Not with the way his arm stayed draped over your shoulders, his warmth seeping into you, his presence so close it was almost overwhelming.

As the storm began to wane, the tension in the tent softened, replaced by a quiet comfort. And though neither of you said anything more, you couldn’t help but wonder if Wyll felt the same way you did—that unspoken pull, the lingering desire that neither of you dared to yet acknowledge.

For now, though, it was enough to simply be near him, the storm outside forgotten as you drifted off to the sound of his steady breathing, wrapped in his warm, strong arms.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The storm that swept through camp hit with an intensity no one had anticipated. Rain lashed against the tents, and your own—already a little worse for wear—didn’t stand a chance. You woke to water pooling around you, your belongings soaked, and your blankets utterly useless. Grumbling, you gathered what you could and sloshed through the camp to find somewhere dry.

Halsin’s tent stood out, sturdy and secure against the storm, its entrance softly illuminated by a warm glow. You hesitated for a moment before calling out.

“Halsin? You awake?”

The flap of the tent opened, revealing the towering figure of the druid, his expression immediately softening when he saw your drenched form. “Your tent couldn’t withstand the storm?”

“No,” you admitted, shivering slightly. “Do you mind if I...?”

“Of course,” he said with a reassuring smile, stepping aside to let you in.

Halsin’s tent was everything yours wasn’t: dry, spacious, and undeniably cozy. The thick pelts lining the floor and the earthy, woodsy scent made it feel like a sanctuary. The warmth inside hit you immediately, and you realized it wasn’t just from the well-insulated tent—it was Halsin himself. He radiated heat like a furnace, the air around him almost stiflingly warm.

“You can set your things over there,” he said, gesturing to a corner before kneeling to adjust the blankets on his bedroll. “And don’t worry, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.”

You tried not to overthink that last part as you settled in, draping a dry blanket over your shoulders. But as the rain continued to hammer against the tent, the unspoken tension between you became almost palpable. You’d always felt a certain pull toward Halsin—his kindness, his strength, the way he carried himself with such quiet confidence. Sharing a space with him now, so close, was enough to make your heart race.

“Warm enough?” he asked, his voice low and soothing as he settled onto the bedroll beside you.

“More than enough,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the heat radiating from him felt almost overwhelming.

The silence stretched between you, comfortable at first but quickly giving way to that same tension. You couldn’t help but notice the way Halsin shifted slightly, as though trying to find a position that didn’t discomfort him. His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he looked almost... uneasy.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly, turning to face him. “If this is too much, I can—”

“No, no,” he interrupted, chuckling quietly. “It’s not that. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. I just...” He hesitated, his cheeks darkening slightly, which was rare for someone so self-assured.

“What is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued. Halsin exhaled a laugh, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m not used to sleeping with clothes on,” he admitted, his voice laced with amusement but also honesty. “It’s a little... restrictive.”

You blinked, his words sinking in as your mind instantly spiraled into dangerous territory.

“Oh,” you managed, your voice embarrassingly high-pitched with a voice crack that could rival teenage you.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t...” he started, but you quickly shook your head.

“No, it’s fine! I mean, you should be comfortable,” you said, your words tumbling over each other in your attempt to sound unaffected.

Halsin gave you a knowing smile, his eyes glinting with that same warmth that seemed to envelop the entire tent. “You’re kind to say so, but I think I’ll manage for one night.”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something you’d regret. The unspoken tension thickened as the storm continued to rage outside, the sound of the rain mingling with the steady rhythm of Halsin’s breathing.

The heat he radiated wasn’t just physical—it was in the way his presence seemed to fill the space, in the way his voice lingered in the air, deep and comforting. You found yourself hyper-aware of every movement, every shift of the blankets, every time his arm brushed against yours.

“Try to rest,” Halsin murmured, his voice low and velvety. “The storm will pass by morning.”

You nodded again, lying back and trying to focus on anything but the warmth of his body so close to yours, or the way your heart seemed to pound louder with each passing second.

And though sleep didn’t come easily, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude for the storm that had brought you here, to this moment, even if it left you feeling like you were on the edge of something both thrilling and terrifying.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was so fun to write, it came out more gn, but i did my best to do allusions that it was a male tav. Hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

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[transkingcobra]

Just some smut that I liked the idea for but won't be canon to their story so I decided to make a lil one shot (that got far longer than I thought it would be), only minorly edited because I just wanted to dump it from my brain

Tavstarion x non-romanced Halsin, years post-game

Named Tav - Syvin - male drow sorcerer

Explicit - MDNI

Approx 3.7k words

Syvin is forced to take a vacation for once in his life, and so the drow and his vampire partner decide to finally visit their old friends. Astarion gets an idea when they visit Halsin… 

Astarion smiled, mischief in his eyes as he watched Syvin strip. They were given a decent little room to stay in while they visited their old traveling companion’s community. Astarion feigned annoyance at the idea of coming here, but Syvin could tell he’d enjoy seeing an old friend, even if he couldn’t see much of this place in the daylight. Halsin was overjoyed they made the journey safely. He showed them the fruits of his labor - though he’d never admit just how much effort he put into this place - introducing them to everyone and anyone that they saw. 

“What are you scheming over there?” The drow finished discarding his clothing and sat on the side of the bed. Astarion’s fingers gently traced along his partner’s jaw, down his neck and chest, and along the inside of his thigh. 

“Just thinking, darling.”

“About?”

“Well,” the vampire chuckled, “you fall apart so well under me that I was wondering if you’d even be able to handle someone like Halsin.” Syvin raised an eyebrow at the elf. That’s what he’s thinking about?

“You want to see Halsin have his way with me? After all your jealous fits back home?”

“It was only an idea, love. Although…” Astarion gently rubbed his palm between Syvin’s legs. “If I were to let someone else taste you, I’m sure Halsin would be just fine. Those other wretches didn’t know their place, wanted to take you from me.” 

“Mm, is that all? Are you sure you don’t want to taste Halsin, too?” 

“I was only thinking about seeing how utterly destroyed you could get, but, well, the bear surely has stamina enough for two if you’d like a view as well, darling.” Syvin was only teasing, but, while the response didn’t share any desire to actually be with Halsin, Astarion wasn’t dismissing it. It made the drow think for a moment. He lay down and the vampire crawled over him.

“Do you actually want to? See me under Halsin, that is.” He didn’t want Astarion to feel like he had to be involved - he knew the elf still struggled with falling into old habits, and certainly having sex with Halsin to please Syvin would put him in such a performative headspace. He could join if he wished, but Syvin wouldn’t make him nor suggest it further than the original teasing. In all honesty, thinking about watching Astarion get off to him being destroyed by another was already arousing. Staring at his love, watching him pleasuring himself, Syvin getting more than he bargained for, probably struggling to keep his head up and eyes open, but Halsin pulling on his hair to lift his head while Astarion demands his gaze.

“Well, darling, it certainly seems you want me to,” the vampire chuckled at the drow’s excitement growing between them. “It would certainly make this visit more interesting.” Astarion started grinding slowly against his love, earning a low moan. “If you’d want to, love, we can see if Halsin can push your limits.”

—

The next night, after much teasing from the vampire all day, Astarion found Halsin when he was finally alone. Syvin of course came along so the big bear would know they were both asking, both interested in such plans. 

“It almost seems as though you’re giving me a challenge, Astarion,” Halsin chuckled in response to the request. 

“Well, if you think you’re not up to the task…” 

“I did not say that. I will gladly join the two of you tonight.” The way Halsin looked at Syvin when he spoke went straight between the drow’s legs. He had never thought about bedding Halsin the entirety of their journey together nor afterwards, but, with Astarion’s idea, he was unable to stop thinking about being overpowered by the large elf all day. The confirmation it was going to happen made things worse - thankfully he wouldn’t be waiting long.

Halsin invited the couple back to his own home. It was a simple place, but had a bed big and sturdy enough for the three of them and they’d be less likely to disturb others’ rest. Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, ready to watch the two of them strip down.

“Anything I should know before we begin?” Halsin used one hand to start lifting Syvin’s shirt, the other reached between his legs while he kissed the drow’s neck right where Astarion usually fed. There were no marks anymore, but the two knew the druid had remembered when he began to nibble and lick the spot. Syvin shuddered. There was no way he was surviving this.

“Well for starters, you’re about to see a very different Syvin. The big, strong general turns into a moaning mess once he’s under a man.” Astarion knew his partner had been thinking about this scenario all day. No one else here would have noticed - he kept it under wraps pretty well - but there was just enough restlessness, just enough submissiveness for the vampire to notice exactly where his drow’s mind was. Poor thing was getting himself all worked up and now Halsin’s teasing near immediately had Syvin’s mind in a haze. 

“I had assumed that was the goal if not the normal occurrence.”

“Very much so. And you can ignore any protests unless he mentions ‘Gale’s cooking,’ that truly means he needs to stop.”

“Was it truly so bad?” Halsin chuckled as he removed Syvin’s shirt. 

“No, but thinking about Gale certainly pulls us out of the mood.” Syvin started to reach down to remove his pants, but Halsin took over instead - happily being the one to reveal the rest of his body. 

“I see.” The druid’s eyes soaked in the view for a moment before he finally stripped himself - far quicker than what he did for Syvin. The sorcerer stared back now - he was on the taller end for an elf let alone a drow, Halsin was well beyond such expectations, and now Syvin was about to feel that difference.

Astarion moved back to sit against the headboard, patting the bed in front of him.

“Come here, darling. I want to see your face while our dear friend has his way with you.” Syvin obeyed, crawling over to Astarion - his face for his partner, his ass for Halsin. The vampire cradled his face gently as the drow kissed hungrily, the two feeling the bed shift as Halsin joined them. 

Large, callused hands groped at Syvin’s ass, spreading him open before a tongue pressed against his entrance. The drow gasped lightly into Astarion’s mouth as Halsin pushed inside even slightly.

“Darling, you truly do fall apart so easily. Are you sure you can handle the dear bear?”

“Mm… I can,” Syvin groaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Ah ah, look at me. Let me see how well he takes you apart.” Astarion held his love by the chin. Syvin forced his eyes back open, just as Halsin pulled away. “Good.” But soon Halsin’s tongue was replaced with an oiled finger. Halsin was slow yet firm in his intrusion - the size difference between Astarion and Halsin already apparent and forcing a shaky breath out of the drow.

“Too fast?”

“N-no… Bigger start- nm, than I’m used to, is all.” 

“Take your time. Let me know when you’re ready for another.” Halsin gently fingered the sorcerer, certain to push directly on his prostate every pass. 

“You’re far too sweet to him, little honey bear. He may be a slight mess already, but he can handle far more. Where’s that vicious cave bear we traveled with?” Astarion teased with a hunger in his eyes. He wouldn’t mind seeing Syvin slowly unravel - but he could do that himself at home. He wanted to make sure Halsin understood the point of this - they wanted that bear to tear Syvin apart in all the best ways. He could do that after a gentle stretching, but Astarion was more in the mood to push his partner. 

“Well, if you insist…” The second finger stretching him further already made Syvin arch his back in response. “Eager, aren’t you,” Halsin teased as Syvin began to push back on his fingers, matching his pace. 

Before the drow could finish himself off, the fingers were removed. Syvin groaned in disapproval, looking back over his shoulder when they weren’t replaced soon enough. Halsin sat back on his heels, stroking himself but making no move to continue yet.

“Waiting for something?” There was a small sting of annoyance in Syvin’s words. 

“Letting you calm for a moment. I am not blind to how close you made yourself on my fingers alone, and I do not think Astarion wants his view to end so soon.” Halsin’s response earned a chuckle from the vampire.

“Love, I do think you’re in for it tonight.” 

Syvin had taken many kinds of men throughout the centuries. It had been decades since he felt a man other than Astarion, let alone one as big as Halsin. It remained to be seen how rough the bear would be, but he had handled the others just fine before. Yet, even the biggest and the roughest couldn’t compare to what he already felt and knew would be coming. His partner before him, his greatest love, had made sex far more than just getting off, just a distracting form of stress relief. With Astarion, it had actually become something fun, something enjoyable beyond the orgasm. With Astarion, he truly understood why people considered it “making love.” And with Astarion, even being shared with an old friend was fun and exciting - he didn’t feel at all like he used to when using others to reach his climax. 

Syvin brought a hand up to caress Astarion’s cheek, leaning into him for a deep, slow kiss. He soon heard Halsin shifting behind him. Please… Large hands firmly held his hips. Finally… Instead of pushing into him, though, Halsin pulled the drow’s hips back, slowly removing the partners’ lips from each other. Astarion didn’t protest - it gave him a perfect view of how Syvin’s face contorted in pleasure as the bear bottomed out, making the sorcerer lower his hand to grip onto the vampire’s shoulder. Astarion gently pried him loose and put his hand back down onto the bed.

“Careful with that grip of yours, darling. We’re breaking you tonight, not me.” The vampire softly played with Syvin’s hair before he lowered his head into Astarion’s lap with a groan. 

“Are you alright, Syvin?” Halsin spoke in an almost teasing manner. He always did want to be certain his partners were enjoying themselves and would certainly change things up or outright stop if they weren’t. But he knew Syvin was okay between the lack of a safe word and Astarion’s joyfully watching eyes, and it seemed both elves enjoyed pointing out just how much he reacted to every small change.

“Halsin…” The name came out breathy, strained between his fullness and excitement of what was to come.

“Yes?”

“Fuckin’ move already.” Syvin pulled himself together to speak the demand fairly normally, but the elves could tell it was more of a plea and both chuckled.

“As you wish.” 

Halsin pulled almost completely out and left Syvin feeling empty, but it only lasted a moment. The bear’s bruising grip on the drow’s hip gave him hardly any warning before he was mercilessly pounded into. Hands grabbed at the sheets as he moaned desperate cries into Astarion’s lap.

The vampire slowly managed to lift Syvin’s head to see his face and fully hear his sounds. It had been a beautiful sight from the start, seeing his love stripped, bent over, and pleasured all while being able to not only hear but also see how he enjoyed it. But now, now that Halsin was showing off one pleasurable use for all those muscles, now that the bed shook and Syvin’s body shuddered with every impact, Astarion was starting to feel the need to fully join them. 

“I can’t- I can’t-”

“You can. You’re taking him well, darling. Look at me.” The pale elf gently rubbed a thumb across Syvin’s cheek as he opened his eyes. Astarion’s bright, red eyes, soft yet hungry. His smile just barely revealing his fangs. His soft curls swaying with the movement of the bed. “You can take more, can’t you? For me, love?” The request sent a shiver down the drow’s body.

“Astari- ngh-!” The impact of Syvin’s orgasm forced his head back down into his partner’s lap, hands wrapping around Astarion’s waist, toes curling, all while Halsin kept his relentless pace. “I can’t! I can’t, I can’t - I can’t-” 

“Don’t you dare stop now, druid,” Astarion commanded as he saw the slightest hesitation in Halsin’s movements. “He knows how to stop us if he truly needs it. Don’t you, darling?” Syvin only responded with a louder moan and tighter grip on the vampire. Did Halsin just get faster? Good gods, Syvin was not going to be walking come morning…

“Xsa- ah! Vith uns’aa… Usstan- ngh!” 

“Well now, that’s certainly new. Halsin feeling that good, love?” The vampire trailed a hand along Syvin’s arched back. The words coming out of his mouth surprised the drow just as much as it did the others, and yet they surprisingly weren’t unwelcome. He’d normally only speak Drow out of sheer necessity anymore, which was a rare occurrence, but being so overwhelmed by Halsin that he fucked him back into speaking his first language made for a fun discovery. 

Just as Syvin was beginning to think he may genuinely need a break, Halsin’s pace faltered. The large elf nearly growled in pleasure as his hot seed filled the sorcerer. Halsin paused a moment to catch his breath, panting over the two before he leaned down and kissed Syvin between his shoulder blades. 

“You held on well, Syvin.” Halsin slowly pulled himself out of the drow. It was only when he finally let go of Syvin’s hips did the sorcerer realize he was mostly being held up by the bear, not his own legs. His thighs shook and Halsin quickly held him again, gently guiding him to lie down fully. “You may wish to take it easy tomorrow. Rest your body and your voice.” 

Syvin only groaned in response.

“Love, we are here for you to relax for once. I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“Promise?” Syvin chuckled. The spawn was stronger without the tadpole, but so was the drow. The occasional powerplay had been met with broken furniture on more than one occasion. Syvin rolled over slightly, looking up into those bright red eyes as Halsin moved to sit beside them. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Hm…” Astarion played with one of Syvin’s braids.

“What is it?” 

“My dear bear, do you think you have another round in you tonight?”

“Ah,” Halsin chuckled lightly at the question, “give me some time and we can certainly go again. If Syvin is alright with it.” 

“Gods, the two of you really are out to ruin me tonight.” The drow wasn’t about to protest going at it again, but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t survive this time around.

“Yes, that was the idea for tonight, darling.” Syvin adjusted himself so he could sit up enough to kiss the vampire. A hand at first fell softly on Astarion’s clothed erection before rubbing him through his pants. The elf moaned slightly at the sudden attention before attempting to compose himself. “Need something?” Syvin simply hummed a confirmation as he continued.

“Would you wish to join us this time, Astarion?” There was a new hunger in the druid’s eyes at the thought of taking them both.

“Syvin, darling, do you really think you could handle the both of us?”

“You did say ruining him was the purpose of our adventures here tonight.”

Syvin smiled against the vampire’s lips, lowering slightly to kiss along his jaw and whisper a “please” directly into his ear. 

“Well,” Astarion reached down and pressed a finger to Syvin’s entrance, “it would be fun to see how sensitive you are now, love.” The drow squirmed slightly, pressing up against his partner. “But, I do believe we have an issue.” Syvin sat up a bit at the statement when Astarion removed his hand. “I am still fully dressed, my dears,” the vampire said with a smirk. “That simply won’t do if I am to get between you boys.”

Halsin was hesitant at first, but, once his touches were welcomed, both he and the drow were planting soft kisses across Astarion’s pale skin. They took all the time in the world to make sure every piece of removed clothing was accepted, that Astarion was truly comfortable with being involved instead of simply watching. Syvin gladly stretched out his partner for Halsin, who slowly stroked the vampire resting back against him. 

“Mm, it almost feels like the two of you are preparing to ruin me now.”

“I can be gentle with you.” The druid’s thumb toyed with Astarion’s tip, smearing the drops of precum. 

“If he can handle you, I can handle you, big bear.” 

“Are you sure about that? You’re not usually the one underneath,” Syvin teased.

“Challenging me, darling?” 

“Excited to see how long you last between us, is all.” 

Once the trio was content everyone was ready, Syvin got back on all fours, excitedly displaying himself to his partner. He let out a pleasured sigh as Astarion pushed inside. The vampire leaned forward, wrapping an arm around Syvin’s chest and kissing his shoulder as he gave a few slow thrusts. The drow’s thighs and even arms already felt weak from being back in this position, and his insides were similarly sensitive. On one hand, he hoped the other two didn’t last too long, yet, on the other hand, he would have been perfectly happy to see how much further he can be pushed, this time with his love inside of him. While Astarion lifted himself back upright, Halsin positioned himself at the pale elf’s entrance. 

“Ready, Astarion?” 

“I am not so fragile as to- ahhh!” Being suddenly full cut off the vampire’s thoughts. Syvin’s chuckle was followed by a moan as Astarion slammed forward into him. “You be quiet down there.”

“I’m not certain Syvin is capable of being quiet with someone inside of him,” Halsin teased as he groped the dark grey flesh. 

“I will not be taking that challenge.”

“It was merely an observation,” Halsin chuckled down at him.

“You’d certainly fail the challenge instantly, love.” Astarion started with slow thrusts to get a feel for how best to move between the two of them, earning soft moans from his drow and making a few of his own. Halsin leaned forward some, Astarion feeling a kiss to his shoulder and hearing the druid’s low, breathy grunts in his ear. Soon enough, not only had Astarion picked up the pace, but Halsin was matching his thrusts. His lover before him, an old and trusted friend behind him - the pleasured stimulation from them both was far more than he had expected. “Gods-!” The high elf buried himself deep inside Syvin as he came, Halsin not relenting in the slightest. 

Astarion collapsed onto Syvin, holding him close and moaning into his ear. The drow greatly enjoyed the fact that the vampire finished first - that even as sensitive as he was from his first round with Halsin, he still held out longer. But that little mental victory didn’t last long. Feeling Astarion’s cum and the impact of Halsin’s continued thrusts along with the moans in his ear, it pushed the drow over the edge himself. His thighs shook fiercely, but he somehow managed to keep his ass up for the other two. 

“Love, I need- I-” Astarion propped himself up some, the shift in tone making Syvin pay closer attention and notice he was attempting to pull out.

“Halsin-” The drow reached back and put a hand over Halsin’s on the vampire’s hip. “A moment…” The druid slowed, lifting Astarion and pulling him back against his chest. The pale elf’s head rolled back on Halsin’s shoulder in pleasured exhaustion. Syvin crawled forward a bit to sit up against the headboard, carefully looking over Astarion. “Love, look at me.” 

The vampire leaned his head to the side, resting it in the crook of Halsin’s neck as his eyes fluttered open. There were no performed words, was no distance in his eyes. Syvin held out his arms for his love, Astarion taking them and leaning forward into the drow’s lap as Halsin released him. Knowing the vampire was enjoying himself and seeing their roles reversed from earlier, Syvin gently played with Astarion’s curls. This was going to be a lovely sight.

“Go ahead, Halsin. He said he could handle you.” With the confirmation everything was okay, Halsin grabbed Astarion’s hips and gave him the same treatment as he had given Syvin earlier. It was the high elf’s turn to moan into his drow’s lap, gripping the sheets. 

“I- ngh! Gods- Halsin- I- ah!” Astarion’s failure to form a sentence was met with chuckles.

“You’re doing well, Astarion,” Halsin grunted from behind.

“I can’t-”

“You can, love.” Syvin was all too happy to give him the same dismissal he received earlier. “You can take all of him.” 

Syvin and Halsin both continued their encouragement and praise, the drow keeping close tabs on Astarion’s state. He became shaky, went back and forth between grabbing Syvin and the bedsheets, continued his broken protests, but he was with them and never attempted anything close to their phrase to stop everything. 

Halsin’s relentless pounding finally faltered once more as he unloaded into Astarion. This time when he pulled out, however, he made sure to help Astarion lower onto the bed and not just let go. 

“Did you survive down there, Astarion?”

“Hah… you could have done worse.” 

“I can certainly see why you enjoyed the view so much,” Syvin mused.

“Darling, we are moving your mirror when we get home.” 

The three laughed tiredly as they rested on the bed. After some time, they cleaned up and Halsin retrieved some clean sheets. Syvin and Astarion were certainly not walking anywhere anytime soon. 

[vael-fire]

Weight of the World

Alonza, an Oath of the Ancients paladin, desperately wants to convince Halsin that he deserves all the love in the world. Aka Act 3 bonus romance scenes my brain invented to resolve outstanding character trauma weeee~ Named for BRMC's song "Weight of the World"... because Halsin.

Tags updated with new chapters.

Chapter 1: Let the Master Become the Student

“Did you wait to tell me that you wanted me… because you thought, somehow, you didn’t deserve to be happy while the shadow curse lingered?” -Alonza

"Every straight-laced, tight-assed paladin could benefit from a sweaty, semi-feral bear-man willing to help him unleash his inner freak." - Astarion

[solmesia]

snork mimimimi

[yourworsttotebag]

sin without pleasure

Astarion/Female Tav (Evie) Halsin/Tav 4k words mature

Astarion knows there is something between Evie and Halsin early on. She’s a talented flirt, good at bantering and smiling and convincing people she’s interested in them. With Halsin she’s a novice. She laughs too loudly. She blushes when he smiles at her. She likes him. She likes Astarion too but he doesn’t throw her off balance. He doesn’t make her nervous.

[kitigai]

[roarmoreau]

Ela ✧︎ Halsin 1/? 🌿🍃

[crowfeatherquill]

Slavish Devotion

The fight to escape Creche Y’llek was grueling. This is undeniable. A drawn-out and anxious affair, taken a single room at a time and scouring constantly for healing draughts, and even still, some of them cling to life by fraying threads -- Astarion most of all.

Somehow, though, in the face of all this, Tathlyn still thinks the walk back to camp has been worse.

Their course is a delicate balance between their need for rest and their need to press on at a decent pace to make camp before nightfall. Astarion’s body does not radiate heat in the way that living things do where it presses into Tathlyn’s support. This, in itself, is not new -- he’s known about Astarion’s cold flesh since that first night in the woods that feels so far away and further still with every sunrise -- but it reminds him of carrying a corpse in a way he can’t quite stomach as easily now. He tries to remind himself that he is not carrying anything. That he is supporting Astarion’s weight while he walks on his own, and that he is still alive, and that he will be fine.

It doesn’t stick.

What does catch in his mind, though -- perhaps more than anything else; perhaps more than it should -- is the fact that for the entire journey, Lae’zel has been silent. At first, he had occupied himself trying to tease any kind of reasoning from her position. He remembers well how it felt under the Matrons’ yoke, and it had seemed, at least on the surface, that Lae’zel was in a similar position. He had dug deep for compassion -- for empathy to give her in the face of her world as she knew it being shaken to its foundations.

But he has only so much to give, and as he has continued to dig, he has found the fertile soil for olive branches waning. Rapidly.

Every hitch in Astarion’s breath as he tries to contain pained sounds he doesn’t want the others to hear adds to the simmering pressure that Tathlyn’s ribs strain desperately to contain. With every step drawn closer to camp, it becomes more and more clear that Lae’zel is not in contemplation. She is not processing what has just happened, nor taking the time to choose her words. She simply has nothing to say.

It makes Tathlyn want to scream his throat bloody.

By the time the flicker of the campfire draws into view, the sun has nearly set and the evening chill is beginning to creep in on them. Tathlyn barely feels it with how hot the fury in his gut has grown. It feels as though it’s taken his entire throat from mouth to stomach in one burning hand and squeezed until he can barely breathe.

He surprises himself with how quiet he is when he speaks.

“Wyll? Take him. Please,” he says, handing Astarion off in a way that has both of them looking at him, confused.

Lae’zel moves to pass them -- as though she means to enter camp; as though nothing that happened today should change how her evening goes -- and if he hadn’t reached the last straw hours ago, that would be enough to break whatever restraint Tathlyn still has left.

Phalar Aluve is in his hand before he really notices he’s drawn it. He rests the point of it feather-light where Lae’zel’s throat meets the underside of her jaw, and she lifts her chin. He knows it is instinct, and stays his hand, but the beast behind his ribs roars at the image of defiance.

“Woah,” Wyll intones, “Tath? Wh-”

“Give me one good reason why I should let you take another step after what you did today,” Tathlyn says in that same soft voice -- the quiet of a predator on the hunt.

Lae’zel does not speak -- only stares at him with a fire in her eyes that he badly wishes to snuff.

“One reason, Lae’zel. That’s all I’m asking for. Give me something. Because I have been wracking my brains trying to figure out how to forgive you for this, and I can’t work it out.”

“Forgive?” Lae’zel spits the word like blasphemy, and Tathlyn can’t hear Wyll’s soft ‘oh no’ over the sound of his blood rushing in his ears, “There is nothing to forgive. I acted as bidden by my Queen, as is my honor. To do otherwise would be to disgrace myself, and for what? For the madness of istyk?”

“Listen to yourself!”

The quiet shatters with the force of Tathlyn’s shout. The landscape is not conducive to an echo, but somehow it seems to anyway. What follows after is a moment of breathless silence before he speaks again.

“Do you hear how you sound? Do you hear what you’re saying? We knew -- we have all known from the very beginning that these godsdamned tadpoles can’t be removed. They’re magic. They’ll kill us. It’s one of the first fucking things we learned, and still you kept pushing. Insisting we go find this fucking creche so you could get your precious cure. Your purification.”

By now, the sounds of jogging footsteps are approaching. Karlach and Halsin, summoned by the noise and unsure of the trouble.

“I tried to wait you out,” Tathlyn continues, “I took every opportunity I could to gather more information about them. Followed every offer as deep as it would go without putting myself at mortal risk because I figured maybe if enough people told us in no uncertain terms that they couldn’t be removed, one of them might stick. That you might listen. But it never fucking ended, did it? No, you had to keep prying and needling until it came down to threats and even then I mustered grace to give you.”

Lae’zel opens her mouth, surely to voice her objection to the idea that anyone need ever give her grace, but Tathlyn is far from finished. He moves the tip of his blade just-so. Lae’zel’s teeth click together when her mouth closes.

Karlach and Halsin have reached the unseen edge of the confrontation, standing level with Wyll -- who is looking to Karlach with something like desperation -- and Astarion, who cannot seem to take his eyes off Tathlyn. Tathlyn is blinded to anything but Lae’zel standing before him.

“If I had let you wander off into the Cursed Lands on your own, you’d have died. Much as you try to act like you’re invincible, I know you know that. And you knew I’d never let that happen -- that if you insisted you’d go with or without me, I’d be forced to follow. And so I did. Because I thought…maybe if you heard it from your own people, you’d believe them. I so badly wanted to believe that you had it in you to change your mind. To see you were wrong like I did.”

“To betray my Queen and my people as you did, you mean?”

Tathlyn sees red and doesn’t quite realize he’s moved until there’s a hand on him, forcing him backwards, and a voice in his ear.

“Easy, soldier…”

Karlach speaks soft, slow, and even, like coaxing a frightened animal. When Tathlyn can see properly again, there’s a streak of fresh blood running down Lae’zel’s throat, shining and wet over what’s already dried there.

“Say it again,” he snarls, already fighting Karlach’s restraining arm, “If you won’t give me a reason to forgive you, I’d be just as happy with a reason to--”

“Oi!”

Karlach steps fully in front of him, breaking his line of sight on Lae’zel, and Tathlyn realizes just how far his vision had narrowed as he becomes suddenly aware of his periphery again.

“Karlach…” he says her name through bared teeth -- a warning he doesn’t mean to issue -- and she presses into his space until he can feel the heat. 

“Step. Off,” she replies, and her words are just as firm as the physical barrier she presents, “This isn’t you.”

If Dammon hadn’t tuned her engine, she’d be searing him with how close she’s standing, but as it is, it’s only enough to make him start to sweat. He stays rooted to the spot as he feels it start to gather at the nape of his neck and between his shoulders. He can’t seem to force himself to move -- some part of him stays locked onto Lae’zel like a bear trap even with Karlach obstructing his view of her.

It’s too much. His better judgement locks horns with the beast in his ribcage, howling for justice that can only be dispensed at the edge of a blade. He wants nothing more than to walk away. He cannot seem to move his legs.

With a guttural shout, he hefts Phalar Aluve and drives it into the dirt. In the same instant, he feels the ground upheave itself beneath him as thick vines burst upward and tangle around his legs and waist. He blinks, confused, and turns just in time to see the glow fading from around Halsin’s hands.

His ears are ringing. He can’t seem to remember how to breathe. Time seems to bend out of shape -- one second stretched out to eternity and obscuring how long they stand there, frozen, before he feels a pressure against his back and a pair of arms twining around his middle, just above where the vines stop.

“Darling…?” Astarion’s voice, quiet and only a breath away from his ear, cuts the fog in his head as cleanly as any knife. “If it’s all the same to you…I think I’d like to go and lie down now.”

Tathlyn nods, stiffly, laying one arm over top of Astarion’s and lacing their fingers.

“Halsin?” His voice comes ragged from his throat. He sounds gutted, even to himself.

The vines retreat, and Tathlyn shifts to let Astarion lean against him once more as they turn toward camp -- bedrolls and a sorely needed rest only paces away.

Lae’zel shouts something at their backs in her native tongue, and Tathlyn hears Karlach’s boots in the dirt and a low reprimand. He’s already too far away to make out the words.

He doesn’t quite realize he’s shaking until they’ve made it to Astarion’s tent. Astarion has almost certainly noticed, but doesn’t comment. He deposits Astarion as gently as he can manage onto the bedroll and finds he can’t bring himself to let go. There is a bone-deep need to feel the rise and fall of Astarion’s breath under his hands. To know he’s safe.

Astarion’s hands find his face -- gently caress his cheeks -- and Tathlyn sinks into the hold.

“You know…as thrilling as all that was, I have to ask,” he probes, “You’re not usually the one to reach for a blade like that. What happened?”

“You happened,” Tathlyn blurts before he really even realizes what he’s saying.

Astarion cocks his head, confused.

“What?”

“You got hurt. Could’ve died. I couldn’t…”

The bemused expression on Astarion’s face intensifies, and Tathlyn���s words catch in his throat. It feels silly. Childish. But there’s something more to it that he can’t quite name.

“Darling, I’ve been hurt plenty of times on any number of these foolish little sidetracks. I didn’t see you threatening Karlach after she almost brought a burning building down on our heads. What’s so different about this?”

The words rise to Tathlyn’s tongue before he’s even fully thought to say them.

“You didn’t trust me then,” he admits, “You’re trusting me now. And I trusted her. I thought…I thought I could trust her to figure it out, but it just kept getting worse and I kept not stopping her, and you could’ve died. And if you had, it would’ve been my fault.”

“Oh.” The single syllable falls breathless from Astarion’s chest. “Oh, sweet thing…”

“Don’t. You don’t have to--”

Astarion passes one thumb over Tathlyn’s lips, silencing him as easily as if he’d cast a spell.

“I rather think I do,” he insists, “You haven’t stopped shaking since we walked away. Tell me what you need, darling.”

Tathlyn reaches up to grab onto Astarion’s hands, still framing his face. He shuts his eyes -- tries to take in every detail of the way those long, delicate fingers feel against his skin.

“C’n I stay?”

“Of course you can, my sweet. As long as you like.”

Tathlyn lingers in Astarion’s hold a moment longer before pulling away and beginning the arduous process of removing his armor. Every twinge of wounds and overworked muscles makes itself known to him over the next few minutes and by the time he’s done, he’s more exhausted than he thought he could still get.

Astarion has reclined on the bedroll, and watches him now with care. He rolls easily onto his side as Tathlyn shuffles in next to him and twines his arms around Astarion’s slim frame. It’s not the ideal position to mediate in, but feeling the way Astarion’s ribs expand and contract as he breathes seems to be the only thing that settles the frantic worry that’s made itself at home under Tathlyn’s skin. Astarion tangles their legs together -- an additional offer of proximity -- and Tathlyn lets his forehead come to rest against the back of Astarion’s shoulder.

Rest is hard to come by as the evening drags on into the night. Every sound from outside Astarion’s tent has Tathlyn alert, assessing for threat. But Astarion’s breathing stays steady. one hand firmly laces fingers with his own, and Astarion allows himself to be cradled close to Tathlyn’s chest. Eventually, his mind settles enough to drift for a few hours.

In the morning, Tathlyn finds Phalar Aluve laid unassumingly across the threshold outside Astarion’s tent. He chooses not to attempt reading meaning into it, and slides it back into the scabbard where it belongs. They have a long walk back through the mountain pass ahead of them. Better, he thinks, not to spend it in suspicious silence.

[nerdgasmgate]

The Waxing of a Red Moon: Pt 2

The party gave their final goodbyes to the patrons of The Last Light Inn with the promise that they’d all see each other again. The only one to join them on their journey to Baldur’s Gate was Jaheira, the fabled Druid. She had become a valued ally and friend in the short time they’d spent together. 

That would make three druids among the Red Moon ranks. It was this fact that made Astarion comment “Doesn’t this make us more of a barn than a band?” The remark earned him a sharp glance from Halsin and Rhaenyra, while Jaheira offered a strike to the vampire’s arm. Though it had gained some laughter from everyone. 

The road to Baldur’s Gate was a long one. And even after deciding on a route, they chose to go with the safer option versus the fastest. This would bring them back to the mountains. And even with winter fast approaching, the Absolute was moving with an entire army, which would at least work in their favor time wise.  

Lae’zel had received word that there was a Githyanki Créche nestled in the mountains and she eagerly wished to go. First and foremost to rid herself of the tadpole still burrowed in her mind and second, to offer her service to Queen Vlaakith once cured. Though many of the others weren’t fond of the idea, they agreed to make the stop. 

After a full day's travel, they came to rest and camp at the foothills of the mountain. Once hunger had been sated, half the group decided to play Old Fool. A ridiculous card game that often ended in bar brawls or excessive drunkenness. It consisted of bets and wagers, full houses and taking shots of ale if you lost a hand. 

Wyll and Karlach had somehow roped Lae’zel into learning how to play. The gith had never even heard of Old Fool, though Karlach bet she’d never even heard of games before. Jaheira joined after the first hand, while Gale and Shadowheart watched the chaotic mess unfolding before them. 

“Tsk’va!” Lae-zel hissed, tossing her hand down. “Truly a fool’s game indeed. Surely you cheat or deceive!” she accused, eyes falling to Wyll. 

In a surrendering fashion, Wyll quickly waved his hands, swearing that he wasn’t cheating. Laughter erupted from the card table and another round was poured. 

Off to the side, Rhaenyra sat with Scratch, tossing his favorite leather ball while listening to the joyous laughter of her companions. She couldn’t help but giggle at each gith curse she heard. At the farthest edges of camp, Astarion and Halsin were settling into the night's first watch. The roar of their games now distant and fading. 

Usually the first watch was done by Halsin and Gale. But the wizard had begged Astarion to switch with him, eager to watch the teachings of Old Fool to Lae’zel. With a roll of his eyes and a promise of food, Astarion reluctantly agreed. 

After Halsin finished his initial sweep of the edges of camp, he came to rest not far from Astarion. The vampire was busy fiddling with one of his daggers, tossing and rolling it over his fingers as though it were as light as a feather. 

“All quiet.” Halsin announced. 

“Well, maybe the woods are, but not the pack of gnolls we left back at camp.” Astarion quipped. 

The druid chuckled in response. “We’ll soon face greater threats in the nights to come, but surely you’re not jealous you’re missing out on a game of Old Fool?” 

Astarion shook his head. “I’ve played enough Old Fool to last me several more lifetimes. Besides, it's refreshing to hear Wyll being accused of cheating instead of me.” the dagger flipped around his knuckles. 

“You? Cheating?” Halsin retorted. “Never.” 

“Well, at least I’m not afraid to play the game.” Astarion replied with a toothy grin. 

“I’ve played my fair share of fools games.” 

“That's not the game I speak of, druid.” 

Halsin turned to face Astarion, his brow raising in question. “Of what game do you speak?” 

“Oh dear boy, I see the way you look at her. I see the hunger you try so hard to hide.” Astarion rolled his head to the side, meeting Halsin’s questioning gaze. 

The sudden switch in their conversation caused Halsin to shift uncomfortably. He swallowed before he spoke, “Astarion, I-” 

“No, no. Don’t apologize to me, darling. Apologize to her.” with a hand, he shooed away any words Halsin offered. “I’m sure she can smell whatever mountain man pheromones you’re giving off and by the gods Halsin, you’re going to drive her mad.” Halsin tore his eyes away from Astarion, sensing the heat that was rising in his face. The gesture made the vampire laugh. “That is the game I speak of.” 

The crunch of leaves caused both men to snap their attention to the side. Approaching from camp was Rhaenyra. She walked armorless and barefoot, wearing only a loose, black chemise. The silence between the three made Rhaenyra question what she’d just walked in on.

“Uhm, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you both. I just wanted to check on you.” 

Astarion smiled up at her. “My sweet, always thinking of others.” he paused briefly, “We were just discussing our favorite games.” 

Rhaenyra looked from Astarion to Halsin, her brows furrowing once she realized the druid appeared unsettled, or nervous perhaps? Though the shadows of the night obscured him slightly, making it difficult to tell. “Oh, what's your favorite game, Halsin?” Rhaenyra asked. 

Halsin was struggling to find his voice, and just as he cleared his throat to answer, Astarion did it for him. “Why it's a good ol’ fashioned game of chase.” 

Rhaenyra innocently smiled at the answer. “I remember playing chase quite often as a pup. Though I doubt you could catch me now.” she teased, shooting Halsin a quick wink. 

The wink was followed by a sudden roar of laughter from Astarion. “No my sweet, I don’t think he could.”

“Play nice,” she chastised. “Not all of us are entertained by silk fabrics or lavish parties, Astarion.” Rhaenyra then knelt down between them and after shooting Astarion a chide glance, she turned her eyes to Halsin. “Chase is a fine game.” she smiled. 

From such close proximity, Halsin could see the delicate spots of freckles upon her cheeks, a delicate dance of spots illuminated by the moon. “Yes,” he finally spoke, clearing his throat again. “Yes it is.” 

“Well,” Rhaenyra rose back up. “You two seemed deep in conversation, I shouldn’t distract you further.” reaching out, she mets Astarion’s hand halfway, giving it a gentle squeeze before taking a final look to Halsin. “May the Wolf Mother watch over you both.” and with a swift turn on her heels and smirk upon her face, she headed back towards camp. 

Once Rhaenyra was out of earshot, the love in Astarions eyes faded. Now reflective, ruby pools stared back at Halsin. 

“Should any harm befall her, whether heart or hair, know that I will slit you belly to throat.”  Something akin to a growl slipped from Halsin, whether by reflex or otherwise, it was the first time Astarion saw the man break in composure. Good, he thought. Perhaps he’s not too soft after all.

[billybabyy]

my little druid babies 🥹🍃

also i will never be over halsins kiss animations

[quachacho]

Being a little vulnerable and sharing that I've written my first piece of fanfiction. BG3 has given me Halsin brainworms literally and I haven't done creative writing in a little while so I just wanted to create something with my OC

It's just a cute little piece about Halsin/Male OC with more of a romantic twist than anything

[moonselune]

I have had a thought.

I was playing bg3, making a sorcerer tav and I saw one of the options was draconic bloodline and it gives your scales on your face.

I thought it was really cool and I was wondering if maybe you could write something about how companions (mainly astarion and halsin) would react to tav having scales. Like imagine when they first met tav covered their face and then boom! Handsome man with dragon scales.

What do you think about it? TOODLES

Draconic sorceror is literally one of my favourite classes and I love to think what the companions would think of the scales (they would all love them)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

When you first met Astarion, you were prepared for the usual reactions: curious stares, uneasy glances, or the rare, but always tiresome, gasp of surprise. After all, dragon scales covering your face were not something most people encountered in their daily lives. The faint, iridescent sheen that danced across your scales in the light often drew attention, and not always the good kind.

But Astarion’s reaction was different. When his eyes first landed on you, there was no trace of fear or discomfort—only fascination. His gaze lingered on your face, his lips curving into a sly smile as he approached you with that effortless grace of his.

“My, my,” he had murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. “Aren’t you a sight to behold? I’ve seen many things in my time, but nothing quite like you.”

You remember the way he had reached out, as if asking for permission to touch, his fingers hovering just above your skin. When you had nodded, slightly surprised but intrigued, he had traced the contours of your scales with a delicate touch, as though they were made of the finest glass.

“Beautiful,” Astarion had whispered, almost to himself. His eyes had been filled with something akin to awe, and you had felt a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with your draconic blood. “Absolutely captivating.”

As your relationship deepened -and you became able to trust his honeyed words once more, you found that Astarion’s fascination with your scales only grew. He loved to explore them with his hands, his lips, and his words. On quiet nights, after the day’s battles and struggles were behind you, he would often lie beside you, his eyes fixed on your face with an intensity that made your heart race.

One such evening, you were lying together in your tent, the firelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. The camp was quiet, the others having settled in for the night, leaving you and Astarion in the comforting cocoon of each other’s company.

Astarion’s head rested on your chest, his fingers lazily tracing the lines of your scales. His touch was light, almost reverent, as if he were committing every inch of you to memory. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting yours, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“Have I told you how much I adore these?” he asked softly, his voice barely more than a whisper as his fingers continued their journey across your face.

“Once or twice,” you replied with a smile, your own voice tinged with amusement. But the truth was, hearing him say it never got old. There was something deeply comforting in the way Astarion admired this part of you that others had often feared or found unsettling.

Astarion chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the edge of your jaw where the scales began. His lips were soft, cool against the warmth of your skin, and he took his time, moving slowly along the line of your scales, kissing each one with care.

You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, a deep sense of peace settling in your chest. His kisses traveled up your cheek, his breath warm against your skin as he continued his slow exploration.

“You are truly magnificent,” he murmured against your temple, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Every time I look at you, I find something new to fall in love with.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently run your fingers through his silver hair, the strands slipping like silk between your fingers.

“I’m glad you think so,” you replied, your voice full of emotion. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Astarion pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes shining with a mixture of affection and something deeper, something almost possessive.

“You won’t have to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m not going anywhere, my dearest dragon.”

He leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, his mouth warm and insistent against yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, a silent promise that echoed the words he had just spoken. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the tent.

“Now, let’s see if I can find any more scales to admire,” Astarion teased, his playful grin returning as his fingers resumed their exploration, trailing down your neck and across your shoulders. You laughed softly, the sound filled with both amusement and contentment.

“Take your time,” you whispered, your voice laced with affection. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

When you first met Halsin, you could feel his gaze on you the moment you walked into the camp. As a draconic sorcerer, you were no stranger to stares—people often found your dragon scales captivating or intimidating. The scales that adorned your face were a visible mark of your draconic heritage, shimmering with an iridescent hue that caught the light in ways that made them almost seem alive. But Halsin’s gaze wasn’t one of fear or unease. No, his eyes were filled with something deeper, something that made your breath catch in your throat.

Halsin was a man of nature, someone who revered the natural world in all its forms. When he looked at you, it was as though he was seeing a rare and beautiful creature, something that had been crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. His brown eyes, warm and earthy, followed you with a mixture of admiration and a hint of something more—a longing that he tried to suppress, not wanting to come on too strong.

It wasn’t long before the two of you grew closer, your connection deepening with each passing day. Halsin’s reverence for nature extended to his reverence for you, and as your relationship became more established, he no longer held back his admiration for your unique features.

One evening, you were sitting together by the campfire, the warmth of the flames casting a soft glow across the camp. Halsin sat beside you, his large frame a comforting presence. He reached out, his hand hovering near your face, and you could see the hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still unsure whether you were comfortable with such an intimate gesture.

“May I?” he asked, his voice low and full of respect.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “Of course, Halsin.”

His hand, large and calloused from years of working with the earth, gently cupped the side of your face. His thumb brushed against the scales that covered your cheek, and a shiver ran down your spine at the tenderness of his touch. Halsin’s eyes were locked onto yours, his expression one of pure adoration.

“Your scales,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe, “are truly magnificent. I’ve seen many wonders in nature, but none as captivating as you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words, your heart swelling with affection for the druid who had come to mean so much to you. Halsin’s hand moved slowly, his fingers tracing the contours of your scales as though he were mapping every detail, committing it to memory. There was something almost worshipful in the way he touched you, as if he believed you to be the finest creature nature had ever produced.

“Do you know,” Halsin continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, “that every time I look at you, I am reminded of the power and beauty of the natural world? Your scales are a testament to that—a blend of strength and grace, as all things in nature should be.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks, though you knew it would be barely noticeable against your scales. Halsin’s words had a way of cutting through any insecurities you might have had, filling you with a sense of pride in who you were and what you represented.

“I’ve always thought of my scales as a reminder of where I come from,” you admitted, your voice soft as you gazed into Halsin’s eyes. “But you make me feel like they’re something more, something to be proud of.”

Halsin smiled then, a warm and gentle expression that made your heart skip a beat. “They are a gift, as are you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek once more. “A gift from the dragons to the world, and I am honored to be in your presence.”

He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your scales in a series of soft, reverent kisses. Each one sent a thrill through you, a reminder of the deep connection you shared with this man who saw you not just as a sorcerer, but as something truly extraordinary.

As he continued to kiss along the line of your scales, you closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you. Halsin’s touch was grounding, his presence a balm to your soul. He treated you with a respect that went beyond mere affection—it was as though he truly believed you to be the embodiment of nature’s finest work.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes met yours, and you could see the depth of his feelings reflected in them.

“You are a wonder,” he said softly, his hand still resting on your cheek. “And I will never tire of telling you so.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart full to bursting with the love and admiration you felt for this man who had so completely captivated you in return. “And I will never tire of hearing it,” you replied, your voice filled with warmth.

Halsin’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss you on the lips, a tender, lingering kiss that spoke of all the things he couldn’t put into words. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the night.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice full of a quiet plea. “Always.”

“Always,” you echoed, your voice full of promise. And as you sat there together, the fire crackling softly beside you, you knew that there was nowhere else you would rather be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Aww some wholesome stuff with Astarion and Halsin, love it. Hope you guys enjoyed it too! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[transkingcobra]

Them 💕

[chaoticbardlady99]

The Masterlist has, once again, been updated! My AO3 will house my OC fics :)

Masterlist

I realized I might need one of these....

ACCEPTING REQUESTS

My AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticbardlady99/pseuds/chaoticbardlady99

Astarion x Reader:

I DO NOT WRITE ASCENDED ASTARION- I will not glorify domestic violence and abusive relationships, by pretending it’s love and lust.

Ongoing series:

Lethal Woman- Astarion x GN! Reader, ongoing fic, smut

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter Ten

I Wondered if I Could Come Home?- Astarion x F! Pregnant Reader

Part 1

Part 2, SMUT, MDNI 18+

Part 3

Part 4

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me- Astarion x F! Ghost Reader/ MDNI 18+- AO3

Prologue

Chapter One: Music, Regrets, and Party Tricks

Chapter Two: Tea Parties and Fashion Catastrophes

Chapter Three: The Sun is Freezing

Chapter Four: Regrets

Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra

Limited Series:

She's My Religion

Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical

Part 2: She Needs This Love Just as Much as Me

Part 3: Everyone Wants to Have Their Taste

Part 4: Makes You Believe in Something Above

My Little Mental Health Series

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing- Astarion x GN! Reader

I Took All This Love I Found- Astarion x GN! Reader

One-Shot, two-shot, three-shot (I'm Dr.Seuss without all the weird Seuss baggage)

Joybringer - Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request

Dying Star Astarion x GN! Reader, Request

One of your Girls : Astarion x M! Reader MDNI 18+ (I tried my best), Request

Like Nothing I've Seen : Astarion x GN! Reader, Request

I Don't Wanna be Your Friend: Astarion x GN! Reader

Admiring from Afar Pt 1.: Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request

Admiring From Afar Pt 2: Astarion x GN! Reader

Pinkie Promise- Astarion x F! Reader, Smut, 18+ MDNI, Fluff

Triple Dog Dare You- Part 2 to Pinkie Promise

If You Give a Dragon a Steak- One Shot Request

Twists and Turns: Astarion x F! Reader, Gale x F!reader

Never Have I Ever: Astarion x Non Tav F! Reader- Smut, MDNI 18+ (Non Tav Reader)

Maryë: Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+

Repose My Love, For I Have Sinned Enough - Astarion x GN! Cleric of Kelemvor Reader

Brighten the Corners of My Mind- Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+

Halsin x Reader:

Fluffy Halsin Headcanons w/ Male Reader : Halsin x M! Reader, MDNI 18+, request

Other:

As the World Caves In: Karlach x Shadowheart , request

[yourworsttotebag]

in you the earth

Halsin/Female Tav 5,200 words explicit

“As much as I want to devour you, I promise I will be gentle,” Halsin said, his voice soft like the evening breeze around them. “I'm not fragile,” Evie said. “I'm aware.” He watched her mouth as he dragged the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “But you are precious.”

[kitigai]