#I once had shadowheart gale and jaheira

[maddisandy]

everyone has some pretty reasonable dynamics and then there's soleil and gale

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

2 & 3 from section 1 for peri and 7 from whichever section has a more interesting #7 for diodore -moss

oooh these are fun ones!

2. Describe their tent set-up (outside and inside) (Peri)

I think Peri's tent is constructed similarly to Gale and Astarion's (boxy, fabric walls, little covered area outside). Deep blue fabric w/ golden astronomical embroidery, mostly the sort of thing you see on star maps. Little golden tassles around the edges of the tarp (?) and the doorframe. He'd have a small, circular, dark wood side table short enough that you can use it sitting on the ground, and a dark blue pillow next to it; there would be some parchment and a bronze miniature astrolabe on the table. The inside would be just. full to the brim with the gaudiest night-sky-themed pillows you've ever seen. No bedroll, no palette, just a nest that would put those cube pits in trampoline parks to shame. There would be two bird perches for his familiar Medani: one taller one next to his tent and one shorter one under the overhang. The shorter one would have a crow-sized bow-tie hanging from it. Rugs on rugs on the outside area ofc. 3. What would their character quest be titled? Why? (Peri)

This is a hard one! His tav ending involves taking over the Waterdeep arm of the Harpers, so I think his arc would have something to do with that. He'd be pretty bitter about being dropped into another near-apocalyptic mess when dealing with the last one a few years prior was supposed to be a one-time thing. Something-something ptsd in a world that doesn't have the words for that yet, something-something 'once a hero always a hero', something-something the weight of responsibility...he's a planeswalker so I think part of it would be whether he decides to stay on Toril long-term and directly help rebuild the Waterdeep Harpers or if he continues to run travel around afterwards, so maybe The Far Traveller/The Far Walker?

Harpson/Fae-son are also potential options. "Fae-son" nods to him being a changeling without it being super obvious (like Astarion's "The Pale Elf"). It would also mimic his backstory reveals from RoT ("oh he's not 'from here' so, like, the Feywild" -> "OH he's not from here"). 7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one? (Diodore)

Buckle up because we're in for a long one here. I've thought about Dora's story arc a lot because she's the first of my tavs that I truly made for the game while having full control over her backstory, etc. (versus Corentin, who had their arc baked into the story as a durge). Dora's a paladin of Corellon (oath of ancients) and her story arc as a companion would have to do with whether or not she should accept capital-r-Redemption, the process by which a drow can be truly "freed" from Lolth and rejoin the ranks of the rest of elven society. It involves all of the Redeemed drow's memories being erased and them being reincarnated as a surface elf. The implication seems to be that without that, regardless of a drow's actions, they'd be thrown back to Lolth when they die? Or at least that their eternal fate is unknown (which is the way I prefer to think of it for. personal reasons). Under normal circumstances, Dora would be a long way from Redemption being presented to her at all (she's not even 200 yet and has only been on the surface for a couple decades), but like with the other gods' Chosen among the companions, near-apocalyptic circumstances tend to speed up those sorts of things.

Of course, you'd have the themes of faith & relationship with deity when they're all unequivocally real and are also mostly all assholes; maintaining or breaking generational cycles; facing the unknown; morality when none of your choices are "good" (and how that interacts with morality vs self preservation); power vs freedom; identity outside of the people who made you; etc. The choice would first be presented to her sometime in late Act I/early Act II, likely the first long rest after the group resurfaces from the Underdark and you've probably gotten some of her backstory already. I have no idea how Larian would have characterized Corellon, but he's considered one of the more benevolent/open-minded deities iirc, which could be interesting to see contrasted with Mystra, Vlaa'kith, and Shar. How much that open-mindedness would extend to a drow, even one who has been a faithful follower even before she escaped to the Surface (and who inherited that faith from her father), is unclear. At the beginning of the game she would be leaning towards accepting Redemption, despite her own misgivings about whether or not she would still be her in that case.

Her final decision (at the ending pier scene) would depend on the relationship she has with the PC and the other companions. Her best ending, imo, would be her not accepting Redemption but continuing to be a force for good. If she has a good relationship with the PC, she would have something to lose. I think seeing the House of Mourning would affect her too. After all, the thing Corellon is offering to her as a way to find peace is the same thing the Sharrans are using as a way to manipulate and control others.

She's viscerally aware of how she was socialized and very actively chooses "good", so pushing her towards a darker path would be incredibly difficult but not impossible. If you side with the goblins she'll leave immediately, and turn on you if she's in your party when you attack the grove. But if you decide to try and control the cult in Act II, depending on your over-all actions before then and how you've interacted with her, you could disillusion her to the point of convincing her to break her oath. That path would entail convincing her that controlling the cult is actually the best idea. I'm sure there would be other times that her oath could break that wouldn't necessarily lock her into an "evil" path, especially with how Oathbreakers are handled in the game. Knocking out Minthara instead of killing her outright and letting Auntie Ethel go in Act I instead of killing her are two things that come to mind.

If she doesn't choose Redemption she would be at the epilogue party, of course. I'm a bit undecided on what would happen if she does choose Redemption. She may not be there at all, w/ Jaheira, Halsin, Minthara, and/or Astarion mentioning running into her in her new, reincarnated state. Or she would be there, confused, and mention how the PC seems familiar in a way she can't quite place. In that case, she would ask them how they know each other and mention something about feeling a twinge of grief looking at everyone, but that she doesn't know why she feels that way. It would be up to the PC how much they tell her (if they tell her anything at all).

[ladyofrosefire]

fuck it, bg3 companions shower routine

Shadowheart: Shar hates self-care, but a Shadowheart does take pride in her hair, and a Shadowheart who has learned to be kind to herself can indulge. Long, complicated hair routine, very specific water temperature, and a tendency toward long-ass depression showers. LOVES a bubble bath and will make a whole event of it with flower petals and candles just for her. Will bring a book with a little book tray and a glass of wine.

Astarion: Similarly complicated hair routine. Gotta hydrate the curls, and being dead does not do nice things to your hair. Less prone to standing there staring at nothing while the horrors set in, but prone to scrubbing too hard. Similarly fond of a bubble bath, although without the book or flowers, although he will fuck with an essential oil heater and likes to make his own blends.

Lae'zel: Queen of the 4 minute shower. She has been accused of not even waiting for the water to heat up, but she likes it blistering. Does not actually use 3-in-1, thank you. Having fairly short hair helps. She finds the other companions baffling. Would get bored in a bubble bath unless she had company (rubber duck counts).

Wyll: Sings. If someone called him on it, he would be embarrassed, the first time, for about a minute. Neither wildly efficient nor inclined to standing there for ages and ages and prefers to shower in the morning. Washing his hair is a chance to relax and take care of himself, although before he has his family back, it can be a bit melancholy. He has fallen asleep in the bath before. I feel like he'd love a bath bomb and he'd love the full romantic evening with candles and flowers and music.

Karlach: Please, please someone boil her. Once she gets her engine fixed all the way, she tries a cold shower just to remember what it feels like and keeps up a running commentary about how much it sucks while also not turning up the temperature. Absolutely loves sharing a shower with someone and will also sing. Should not attempt her little jig on wet tiles. May try anyway. Someone should introduce her to proper hair/skin care because if anyone is using 3-in-1, I'm sorry, it's Karlach. Genuinely cannot sit still for a bubble bath unless she has company to cuddle.

Gale: Voted Faerun's Most Likely to Relitigate Arguments in the Shower, Even if He Won Originally. Loves to pamper himself, canonically, loves a spa day, also canonically. You simply are not getting the bathroom back for a good hour, although not all that time involves running water. Plays around with different products and researches the living hell out of everything. Loves a long soak. The only person with a feline in their house to ever bathe in peace. Constantly torn between wanting a book with him when he has a bath and not wanting to get the pages steamy and damp, much less actually wet.

Minthara: Her ideal hair wash involves someone else doing it for her while also having the utmost certainty that the person will not attempt to murder her. If her partner washes her hair for her, she turns into a puddle. She has an incredibly specific lineup of products. If she shares, understand that she has bestowed upon you a great gift. More about bath salts than bubbles and could be persuaded to a sufficiently elegant bath bomb (it would not be a difficult check).

Halsin: Low-flow showerhead user. Hell, he might be the kind of person to turn the water off entirely when not soaking/rinsing out his hair... However, he is not immune to the "shower together to save water" line even though he KNOWS it doesn't work that way. He needs low-scent soaps/etc considering his heightened sense of smell. And listen, this man does not fit in a bathtub unless he goes somewhere special or finds a particularly large one. He made everyone floaty ducks, properly sealed against water damage, and he has one for himself that holds his soap.

Jaheira: Understands that having a chair in the shower is just being kind to yourself and proceeds accordingly. Will revisit arguments she had that day, but despite that has a quick and fairly simple routine. She needs the water pressure to pound the everloving hell out of her back. Loofa on a stick user. Like Wyll, she has fallen asleep in a bathtub, in part thanks to having and using a bath cushion. Truly, the expert on bath-based comfort.

Minsc: Also sings in the shower. LOUDLY. Boo is allowed to sit a shelf out of the way. The best way to get him to use lotion is to give him something that smells yummy. He has similar problems to Halsin regarding fitting in bathtubs. He tries anyway. He has been banned from at least one hotspring for doing a cannonball.

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (1)

Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!

Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Stupid

Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)

Wordcount: 3,7k

~~~

A goose sat in front of you all.

And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.

The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.

It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.

That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.

You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.

And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.

The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.

The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?

Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.

Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.

You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.

Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.

But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.

It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.

But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.

After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.

You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.

And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.

With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.

Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.

The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.

And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.

So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.

You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?

You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.

Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.

Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.

For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.

How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?

Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.

But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.

So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.

You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.

When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.

Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.

But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.

Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.

“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.

Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.

You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.

Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.

You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.

The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.

You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.

“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.

“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.

“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.

He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.

The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.

“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.

You waved Gale to please go on.

“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.

Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.

“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”

“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.

“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.

Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.

The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.

“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.

“Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.

Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.

You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.

“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.

And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.

“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.

Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.

You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.

But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.

Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.

“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.

“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.

“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.

“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle

“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.

“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.

Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.

You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.

But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.

Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.

“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.

After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.

Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.

Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.

You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.

(To be continued...)

~~~

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe

[meanbossart]

im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!

So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.

Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.

BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!

Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.

Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)

Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.

Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.

Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.

Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.

Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.

[vibingandsimping]

Who else loves random descriptions of intimate positions?

Me, I do. I am incredibly touch starved. Anyways-

Main good route companions + random intimate positions! Pt. 1

All of you villain/evil route lovers, you will be fed soon. (I am one of them)

Forewarnings: Suggestive content, fluff and not proofread

Astarion loves to hook your leg over his shoulder as he kisses you. One hand crawling up that leg from the hip, to the thigh and to the calf. His nails trailing and leaving a tickling grace in it’s wake. You shudder at the touch and squirm a little. He relishes in that and you can feel his cheeky smirk against your lips. You gasp as he nips your lower lip with his fangs. He takes that chance and deepens the kiss between you two.

Wyll intertwines your fingers in both hands. Presses them on the ground up by your head as his mouth lavishes your neck. You can feel his breath against your earlobe and it makes you shiver. His legs trap your thighs and you’re laid beneath him as he stares at you. His gaze speaks only admiration. It’s so intense- and raw. He whispers sweet nothings as he kisses you. You’re sure to find some marks he left on you in the morning.

Lae’zel hooks her leg around your hip. You’re kissing on her chest as her fingers place upon your head. Her little gasps and whimpers are quiet- muffled. She’s trying to conceal how much she enjoys this as ever the strong woman she is. You dig your fingers painfully into her waist and she groans unabashedly this time. You hum approvingly before she takes the reigns. You turned this into a challenge.

Shadowheart loves to place her head on your thighs. No matter how small or large. You can feel her hair tickle your skin, the braid held in one hand as you run along the length of it. Her eyes are closed contently as she savors the warmth you emit. It’s almost unnoticeable the way her fingers gently creep up the outside of your thigh. Not until she’s placed her palm on it and squeezes. There’s a smirk on her face as she continues to feign innocence.

Karlach has your head placed on her chest as she lays. You can hear the infernal engine working under her ribcage. It’s mechanical and unnatural… but the heat she radiates comforts any sort of unease you have. Her hand strokes your head and neck as you bury into the soft flesh of her breasts. There’s a laugh that rocks her body, seemingly amused by how you snuggled into her. You laugh with her too, pressing a gentle kiss against the glowing part of her skin.

Gale wraps your legs around his hips and you instinctively lock your ankles together. His hands slide under your thighs towards your rear, cupping it as he holds your hips in the air. He gazes at you with warm brown eyes as he lowers his head. He plants kisses from the center of your chest down to your stomach. His teeth occasionally nip as his tongue darts out to taste the flesh. He does so until he reaches your pelvis before retracing his steps. Once he reaches your chest, he parts and meets your lips this time.

Halsin holds you in his arms as he stands. You feel weightless in his grasp, even if you’re bigger. Despite his size- people still seem to underestimate how strong he is. He kisses you tenderly as he wraps his arms protectively around you. You’re enveloped in him as his scent washes over you. It smells like forest dew and wild-berries with a hint of his natural musk. He whispers in your ear about how you’re the finest creation nature could bestow him with.

Jaheira seems to regard you almost like porcelain. She’s an older elf and it’d been over a century since she had a lover. Fighting Ketheric Thorm and surviving the curse was her purpose for years. She holds you like you’re going to vanish. Arms linked around your waist and legs tangled in yours. Her nose presses against your skin and she breathes in your scent. You smile softly as you allow the woman to enjoy your presence and touch. Your fingers tracing shapes onto her shoulder-blades as she relaxes like putty.

Minsc holds you tightly and almost crushes you against his chest. He truly forgets his own strength sometimes as he hums happily. He savors the feeling of your heart thrumming against his skin. When you squirm, he blinks and loosens his grip with an apology. You simply smile and shake your head, telling him it’s alright. He has a guilty look as he watches you carefully. You sigh and crawl up a little to press a kiss against his cheek. Like that, he straightens up and holds you again. He’s more careful this time but the grip is still firm enough to hold you against him. What a gentle giant he is.

[tcustodisart]

Because the farm is really Shadowheart's ending I was thinking, what would be Connie's post-game thing (he loves the farm life to pieces, but I was thinking, you know, if he was a companion what he'd be talking about during the epilogue party). And I came up with this idea - he writes and illustrates the very first Guide to the Birds of Faerûn. I don't want to torment you with my words, so if you're interested, the rest is under the cut. It's long but there are some additional doodles there.

About the book:

The book is basically like Collins Bird Guide. Including very detailed descriptions of what sounds the birds make.

Connie's already in touch with a publisher (recommended by Volo)

While Shadowheart does proofreading to see if it's digestible for non-bird-obsessed people, Connie's stepfather and Arnell help him with fact checking.

Connie was consulting Halsin while writing about waterfowl.

The book's dedication reads: "To my dearest wife and our four dogs, eight cats, nine chickens, six pigeons, four sheep, Daphne the milk cow, the odd little squirrel, Buttons and last but not least, our crow."

He thought that dedication was hilarious.

After publishing the book, he's been getting at least one letter every week regarding it.

Thanks to these letters the book gets improved with further editions.

He gets invited to various schools across the country to hold lectures but he almost always declines. (Public speeches aren't his thing and he also doesn't want to leave the farm that often.)(He made one exception for Gale because he asked very nicely and didn't take no for an answer).

Far in the future nobody remembers him as one of the heroes who saved Baldur's Gate. He's being remembered as one of Faerûn's best ornithologists.

Other companions reactions:

Lae'zel genuinely liked the book. So much in fact, she read it more than once.

Tara hates Mondays.

I projected on Karlach how hard it is to read books sometimes.

The scary part of the book was the birds of prey section.

Jaheira didn't even read the book, but she does a bang up job pretending she did. She's still very proud.

Shadowheart read it so many times during proofreading she could recite some parts with her eyes closed. For a week she had nightmares about geese.

Details:

Because whenever I make a drawing with a proper background I like talking about the details I put there. So:

The picture of magpies on the wall is the same one Connie gave Shadowheart in this comic. She kept it in the same book she kept the first night orchid he gave her.

That brigs us to the night orchid next to magpies. It's the same one.

There's a doodle of Shadowheart and Daphne near the window.

As references for all the feathers in this drawing I used feathers from my own collection.

Wooden duck is obviously the one Halsin gives you in the epilogue.

The bird drawings are from this drawing I made almost 3 years ago.

Oof, thank you for reading all that, here's one last doodle:

[nerdallwritey]

About to Strike (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.  He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.  “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.  OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.

“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.

“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”

“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”

Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”

Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”

“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”

Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”

“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“I am not!”

Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”

“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.

“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.

You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered. 

Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”

The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?” 

He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”

“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”

Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”

You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.

Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?

You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.

You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.

“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”

Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”

He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”

“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”

Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.” 

You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”

“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”

“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly. 

Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”

“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.

“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”

“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”

“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”

Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”

And what a day it had been. 

Or, tenday, more like.

~~~~~

The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy. 

You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”

You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”

Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.

“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso. 

Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing. 

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head. 

“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.

“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.

You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent. 

Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”

“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”

“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”

Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”

“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent. 

You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise. 

“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”

Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”

“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.

Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin. 

You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”

Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan. 

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-” 

“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.

“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.

Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”

“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly. 

“Woof,” Karlach said.

You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”

Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”

You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”

You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”

Astarion cleared his throat loudly.

“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent. 

Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you. 

You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?” 

He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”

Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”

He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”

You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

~~~~~

And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day. 

It all felt very nice.

Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.

The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.

On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.

“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”

“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”

“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you. 

You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.

Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.

You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction. 

“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.

“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.

“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.

Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”

“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you. 

You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.” 

He made no move to leave your side.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees. 

Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”

“Well, I-”

“No,” said every other person at camp at once.

“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”

“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug. 

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.

“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”

“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.

“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”

You kicked him.

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”

“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.

 Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”

“Thank you…” you murmured again.

Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”

You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”

He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.

“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Let me-” 

“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up. 

Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night. 

~~~~~

It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own. 

It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions. 

The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body. 

“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.

“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.

Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest. 

Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better. 

“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.

You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going. 

“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”

Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.” 

You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”

He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.” 

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”

He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”

You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”

He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”

You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”

He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”

You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”

“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear. 

“I’m serious.”

“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”

You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”

“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.

Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”

Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”

You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”

He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”

It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche. 

Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”

~~~~~

The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions. 

Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before. 

“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent. 

“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags. 

“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.

“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books. 

You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”

“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”

You snorted. “Okay, so what-”

“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”

“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.

Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear. 

“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.

You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head. 

He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”

You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.” 

Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”

You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin. 

You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression. 

“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands. 

“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.

“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away. 

Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear. 

Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks. 

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”

“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly. 

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”

“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin. 

Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.” 

Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”

“It’s only natural-”

“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”

Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”

You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp. 

Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around.  “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”

“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off. 

Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go. 

You looked over at him. “Moment over?”

“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”

You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”

Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!” 

You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.

“See?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”

You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”

“Because…?”

“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”

“Because you’re still sore-”

“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”

Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly. 

You frowned at him. “Asshole.”

Kiss. “Darling.” 

“Bat brain.”

Kiss. “Beautiful.” 

“Priss.”

Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss,  I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”

You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair. 

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him. 

He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”

“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”

Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”

You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’” 

“That’s different.” 

“How so?”

If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words. 

“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”

You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.”

He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”

You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”

He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”

“Good answer.”

“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.” 

Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.” 

You met his eye again and saw his features soften. 

“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”

Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”

You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”

“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”

Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.” 

You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”

He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”

Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”

A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”

You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”

“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”

That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”

He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”

If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”

“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.” 

He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”

“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time. 

Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.

“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”

Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.

“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again. 

Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.

“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you. 

He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”

You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”

“Tsk'va!”

You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart. 

“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”

Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”

You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”

Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels. 

“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.

“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.

You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”

“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow. 

“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”

Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”

You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”

“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”

“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”

“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”

“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”

“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin. 

“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly. 

“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”

Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”

You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process. 

“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”

“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain. 

~~~~~

After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.

That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate. 

“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly. 

As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”

“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.” 

Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp. 

Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area. 

Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?” 

“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”

Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”

“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance. 

Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”

Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”

Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.

“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”

“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other. 

Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went. 

“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you. 

Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”

You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area. 

“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”

“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”

Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips. 

“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin. 

“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”

Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.

It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider. 

Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”

“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.

“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”

“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”

“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.

“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”

“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.

“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”

From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!” 

“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.

The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”

“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”

“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”

Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute. 

“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.

The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.

You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”

“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely. 

A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”

You nodded and took your lute off your back, strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons. 

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight. 

You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction. 

The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you. 

When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches. 

The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”

Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin. 

“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river. 

“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.

“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches. 

“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.

“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned. 

“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”

“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”

~~~~~

“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.

Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?” 

“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”

“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.

Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”

“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you. 

“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you. 

Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you. 

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”

“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement. 

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.

“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief. 

“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth. 

Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”

Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion. 

He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose. 

“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”

“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”

“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.” 

“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper. 

“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. 

He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.

Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. 

“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.

“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. 

Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”

“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.

Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”

“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.

“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”

“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.

“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”

“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”

“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.

“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”

You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”

Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?” 

You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.

“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”

You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.

“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”

“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.

Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”

“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”

Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?” 

Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.” 

“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.

“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.” 

“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”

“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.

“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”

“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”

“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” He slumped. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”

You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares. 

“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation. 

She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”

“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”

“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.

Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”

Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.

“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.

“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.

“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.

Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”

Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”

Lae’zel shrugged.

Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”

Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”

“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”

You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument. 

You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”

He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.

Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks. 

“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.” 

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked. 

“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse. 

“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.

“The room,” Astarion said anyway. 

“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”

“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”

“Ooowww,” you moaned.

“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”

“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”

“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed.

“Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.

Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.

When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail. 

“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”

When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.

Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement. 

“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over. 

“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

[sorcerous-caress]

So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

[tragedybunny]

I Should Tell You - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

In a fit of guilt, Astarion tries to confess his deception to you. At the last moment, he loses his nerve and ends your relationship with another lie. He's resigned himself to having lost his chance with you forever when once again everything changes. With the two of you out on your own, will he be able to take a chance and tell you everything, and will you forgive him when he does?

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Female Reader

༺Warnings༻ Sexual references

༺Word Count༻ 1888

Astarion was, well, he was loath to admit it, but he was brooding. He’d taken up a private room at the Elfsong now that everything was over, one where he could keep protected from the sun while the rest of his companions, yourself included, lived their lives in the light of day. Slowly, condemned back to the shadows, locked in his room with drapes drawn tight against the burning daylight, he’d drifted further and further away from the group. Culminating in tonight, where he had one perfunctory drink at the farewell party and slipped off away from the group to hide out amongst his books and the shadows of his mind. 

For the last several weeks, everyone had put their all into assisting Baldur’s Gate in starting to rebuild. Those who were left anyway, Wyll and Karlach were in Avernus, and Lae’zel was off to wage war on Vlaakith. Now those who were left would be parting ways as well, Shadowheart to see the world, Gale back to Waterdeep, Jaheira and Minsc to rebuild the Baldur’s Gate Harpers, and you and Halsin…hells, he didn’t want to know. 

If he were being honest with himself, which felt like it was to be avoided these days, there was more to his self-imposed exile than returning to a nocturnal life. Seeing the two of you together made it feel like a dagger was shoved between his ribs and playing around with his insides. 

And the worst part was, it was all his fault. He couldn’t be mad at you or the infuriatingly perfect Druid. Well, he shouldn’t anyway, he still found himself wanting to shred Halsin’s throat with his teeth every time he pulled you close and kissed you like you were a goddess he was paying worship to. He’d done it to himself though, weaving a web of lies and manipulations so dense he’d trapped himself while you slipped through, unscathed. 

That web became too entangled with the way you’d stood firm against that Drow, for him. You’d seen him as a person, and he’d repaid that by seeing you as a pawn. At least at first. By the time you shouted at that vile creature on his behalf, he’d become so hopelessly lost in the strands of feeling that had grown and wrapped around his heart, he knew he had to give up the plan, and give you the truth, even if you hated him for it.  

As soon as your group had made camp that night, not far enough from the shadows of Moonrise Towers for anyone's comfort, he'd made his way over to you. “I want to thank you,” he’d started, sure of his course. “For what you said whilst in front of that vile Drow…

“...You made me realize I never stopped thinking like his slave.” He drew in a breath, despite the fact that he didn’t need it, and froze. Patiently, you stared up at him with that affectionate look you always had, giving him space to collect his thoughts. You, the fount of warmth and sweetness he didn’t deserve, the love he couldn’t hope to keep. Frantically, he willed himself to speak, to tell you what you needed to know, no matter the consequences.

“And I realize I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship.” The words had spilled out of his lips before he could think them through and he watched as your eyes widened in hurt. 

“Gods no, what the fuck are you doing,” he cursed himself, but still the words came. 

“Being with someone still feels tainted, I need to figure out who I am, what I want.” Finally, he’d bitten down on his own tongue to stop the tide, but the damage was done. 

Those loving eyes of yours sparkled with tears, but that composure he’d begrudgingly come to admire since he met you held firm. “Is this really what you want, Astarion?” 

“No, no, no. I want you, I want it to be real.” If he gave you the truth and you sent him away, he couldn’t bear it. At least this way he could salvage your friendship, still bask in your light from time to time. The excuse was flimsy, even to himself, but he’d been a liar from the start. 

“I think it's for the best, I'm sorry.” Twice, he’d lied to you, twice, there would never be any coming back from this. “Please don't be mad at me.”

You stepped forward and he instinctively came close to cowering away. But you weren’t intent on harming him, instead wrapping your arms around him in a gentle embrace. “I think I understand. I’m not mad if this is what you need.” 

Your arms felt as though they were crushing him, their touch burning his skin. The urge to pull away and flee was almost overwhelming. But you deserved this one last bit of comfort. “Thank you,” he murmured, resting his head on your shoulder, breathing you in, and resigning himself to a life without this.

After you finally pulled away, you went to his tent and packed your things, leaving to set up on your own and let him endure the night without you at his side. There was a time when he’d never believe his own space could feel so empty. Back in the spawn dormitory, he would have given anything for this solitude. Now it was wretched. And so his first night alone was passed in miserable resolution, and when the day dawned, he went on as though all was right. 

It wasn’t lost on him that you would eventually find other companionship, you were attractive, witty, brave, and immensely caring. And from what he’d seen, you certainly weren’t interested in a celibate lifestyle. That line of reasoning still didn't prepare him for the night the group camped outside Rivington. 

Astarion had just returned from a hunt, the blood of a rabbit fresh on his tongue. It wasn’t you but he hadn’t dared ask to touch your neck after everything, electing to spend his trance hours dreaming of those moments between you instead. It was better than the nightmares of Cazador and his tortures at least. As he’d crept into the circle of ruined buildings that camp had been set up in, he stopped short, the world feeling as though it was closing in around him. 

You were talking to Halsin, who held one of your hands in his, and somehow, even with his ridiculously large hands, delicately brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with the otherl. Time slowed and Astarion felt as though the blood in his stomach might make its way back out of his mouth. 

In the dim firelight, the stars gleaming without a cloud to obscure them, Halsin kissed you. Softly, slowly at first, and then his hands wandered to your hips to pull you in as he deepened it. Your hands came to rest on those broad shoulders and instead of pulling away as Astarion desperately hoped you would, you leaned into it, eager and wanting. He wasn’t close enough, but Astarion could swear he heard the little moan you probably made. The same sound you used to make for him. 

Halsin stared down at you after breaking the kiss, no doubt with naked lust written on his face, and offered you his hand again. And that was the that, the two of you began to quietly walk away from camp while Astarion fled to his tent, crawling into his bedroll and desperately choking down the sobs that threatened. 

It had been bound to happen, but how soon, was what burned from the inside out. Just like that, you’d forgotten all about him, as though he hadn’t mattered in the first place.  How dare you. He tried to summon anger with you, to wash away the pain. It was a betrayal, he had every right to be angry. You waited for no time at all, you moved on so easily, you…you just forgot he loved you. 

Not that he’d ever said it, but you must have known. The bedroll was even colder than usual as Astarion clung to the one object he found comfort in. Kept secreted away amongst his things, a shirt of yours he managed to pilfer before his botched confession. By day, it was tucked in his pack, and at night it filled his bedroll beside him. Pulling it into his arms, he inhaled what was left of your scent on it, and buried his face in the pillow to weep bitter tears. 

He emerged the next morning into daylight that no longer held the promise it had so recently. Almost immediately you ran to him, taking your arm in his, giving him a moment of foolish hope. If things had gone badly between you and Halsin, he would rectify his mistake and tell you everything, he privately swore. 

All it took was one look in your eyes to know that hope was in vain. “Astarion, I need to tell you something, and I wanted you to hear it from me first.” You led him away from the rest of the group, almost to the spot where he’d seen you with Halsin. The rest of your companions pretended not to notice the obvious personal moment occurring a stone's throw away from them.

It was a good thing he'd cried every tear he had last night. “Well go on Darling, don't keep me in suspense,” he plastered on a grin. 

“The thing is,” you look everywhere but at him, “Halsin and I, well, things happened between us last night, and I think I'd like to pursue whatever this is. It just felt right to tell you first.”

Astarion laughed, a hollow sound to his own ears, but convincing enough for you, it seemed. “My Dear, you were worrying yourself about this? Don't vex your pretty little head like that, I don't begrudge your need for intimacy. Even if I fail to understand the appeal of a man who's always going on about enjoying the freedom of nature's gifts.”

“Astarion,” you scolded, but a subtle smile told him you were relieved. “Behave yourself.”

“Let me have a little fun at your expense.” He disentangled his arm from yours, its warmth suddenly smothering. Taking your hand, he kissed it gently. “I'm glad, you deserve to be happy.” That part he did mean, even as he reviled how it was happening. “And I'm sure you and Halsin will be. Don't worry about me.”

“Please worry about me. Can't you see how I'm bleeding?”

Leaning up, you kissed his cheek, with all the gentleness in the world. “Thank you, Astarion, I'm glad you understand, I'd never want to hurt you.”

From that moment on, you were Halsin's and Astarion had to grin and pretend to be happy for you. That's what friends were for and you insisted you two were friends. The two of you seemed so disgustingly infatuated with each other, he wanted to scream at times. So naturally he'd assumed you'd be happily headed out on some grand, romantic journey together. 

Which was why it startled him to nearly a second death when you burst into his claimed sanctuary, clearly distraught and slamming the door behind you. “I'm sorry… I can't be in there,” you gasped out between sobs.

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

Tag List:

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin 

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@satanicspinosaurus @darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @icybluepenguin

[petit-etoile]

Congrats on 200 followers! :D For drabble ideas, how about one where Tav is becoming overwhelmed from being the leader of their group and they end up having a bit of a breakdown in camp, so Astarion whisks them away and dotes on them for the evening to help soothe some of their worries.

i  am  tired  of  being  brave

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,036 content warnings: none other tags: canon compliant, introspection, character study, idiots in love, established relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary: All you want is to get away from everything. Astarion indulges you.

‘Enough!’ you shout.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart have the decency to look properly chagrined when they peer over at you, frozen as if turned to stone. Shadowheart’s knife dips underneath Lae’zel’s chin, but the pretense of applied pressure goes away. You have no idea what hour it is or how long they’ve been going at it but the little patience you have snaps like a fine thread.

‘We have only gotten this far because we trust each other,’ you snap at them, pulling your nightshirt tighter around your shoulders. ‘But if you want to ruin that, leave me out of it!’

In what is likely the silliest mistake to make, you turn around and march to your bedroll to pick up your hunting knife and then march beyond the outskirts of camp  —  beyond Halsin and Jaheira and Gale and Wyll and Karlach, and Withers who seems to be musing over the situation with faint interest.

If Shadowheart and Lae’zel want to fight to the death, let them! You’ve done all that you can to get the group this far. You’re tired, you’ve been woken up two nights in a row, and you’ve had it with the drama.

You plunge yourself through the nearest bush you can find and sit next to running water, your arms pulled across your chest to keep the breeze from chilling you to the bone. You’re miserable beneath the moonlight. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept more than four hours.

You almost doze off in the underbrush beneath a tree, but then there’s a hand sliding over your mouth and a body behind yours, somehow wedged behind you once your eyes closed. You gasp and try to reach for your knife, but Astarion tuts and continues sliding between you and the tree. It would be annoying if you weren’t relieved it was him. You relax back against him despite the feeling that your heart is going to leap out of your throat.

‘You shouldn’t fall asleep in the woods,’ Astarion warns you. ‘There are terrible beasts that have made this place their hunting ground.’

You shiver. ‘I didn’t mean to fall asleep,’ you say. ‘I just needed to get away.’

He hums. ‘Did something happen back at the camp?’

It doesn’t do any good to keep secrets, and your other companions had already witnessed it. You tell Astarion about Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s never ending fight. It doesn’t make sense to keep attacking one another, especially since the Artefact is the only reason the worms haven’t burrowed deeper into your skulls. It wears you down every day to keep making decisions for everyone when there are people with better experience. Everyone looks to you no matter how much you wish they’d look elsewhere. You never wanted this fellowship to hang on your every word. You just wanted allies.

‘It’s hardly fair,’ Astarion agrees. ‘To have the weight of this…Absolute sitting on your shoulders. I can’t imagine what it must be like to wrangle us all into cohabitation.’

‘Some discomforts are easier to resolve than others,’ you say. ‘It was easy making everyone throw their stakes away.’

‘I’m fairly certain Wyll kept his,’ Astarion snorts.

‘Yes, but he doesn’t wake us all up holding it at your neck,’ you say, elbowing him. ‘They don’t have to become friends or lovers or anything of the sort. They just have to get along until we arrive at Baldur’s Gate.’

Baldur’s Gate still seems so very far away. Acknowledging this drags you down more than you wish it to. You’re tired of walking and fighting and lying your way out of every other conflict. You miss your family and your life before the worm. The only good that’s come of it is Astarion. He lets you lounge on him when you please in exchange for some blood, and…

It’s more than that.

Astarion lets you do whatever the hell you please as long as it doesn’t annoy him. You’re free to nap in his tent or sit at his side while he reads, and he’s even allowed you to style his delicate curls with pomade. He lets you kiss him if you ask, holds your hand. If you asked him to kill someone for you, you’re certain he would without question.

Reluctantly, you sit forward. ‘I should probably head back,’ you admit. ‘I should make sure everyone is still alive.’

‘To the hells with it,’ Astarion disagrees. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back. ‘You close your eyes and sleep. Let them come looking for us if it troubles them that much.’

‘And if Shadowheart kills Lae’zel?’

‘I’m almost certain Lae’zel would win,’ he says. ‘But, I have no doubt they’ll behave. You, on the other hand, are being naughty.’

You laugh but you do as you're told. You worm further in the roots and lean back against him. It’s chilly, but having someone else there does wonders for how willing you are to fall asleep. It’s almost nice how secluded you are away from the drama and stress. You almost wish you were a vampire so that you could sneak out and use hunting as an excuse.

The respect for all you do is nice. Sure, Halsin and Jaheira have both commended you for how hard you work for your age, but it isn’t the same. You still stand in the middle of camp trying to handle things on your own. The planning, the decisions. They somehow fall on your shoulders. A little more input would be nice, or a sign from a god that you’re doing the right thing. You try not to think about it as you feel sleep edge toward your consciousness. Astarion hums softly in your ear, and though it’s uneven, you can’t help but think it’s so off-tune that it’s lovely.

You yawn so hard your jaw pops, and Astarion hushes you, kissing idly behind your ear. It lulls you into an ease you haven’t experienced for a while. You melt into the touch. If you could purr, you would.

‘This,’ Astarion says, ‘is what you deserve. To relax here in my arms. Sleep now, and we’ll deal with what shall come in the morning.’

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Tav ~ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia) Word Count: 6,774 Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Inappropriate Use of the Tadpole, PiV Sex, Riding, Oral (Female & Male Receiving), Fingering, Masturbation, Slight BDSM, Restraints, Gagged, Blindfold, Melted Candle Wax, +Some Soft Astarion, Porn Without Plot, Slight Fluff, Biting Summary: Ofelia's mundane evening is interrupted by a certain vampire utilizing the tadpole to entice her to his tent during dinner. She takes the bait, ending up biting off more than she chew... literally. ˖ A fun, all porn no plot oneshot featuring Astarion and my longfic main character, Ofelia set during Act 3 but completely separate from the main fic!

divider here 🩸

AO3 | Song Reference: No One Like You - Scorpions

Ahh, the final installment is here!! These were all so fun to write!!! I had such a blast making these this month- it made for some great practice for the main fic, and also helped me explore their dynamics for once they're in a more trusting and happy place later on in the story! ❤ This was seriously such a fun time- I couldn't have done it without the encouragement and inspiration from some of the coolest and most talented people (@khywren, @pinkberrytea, & @verbenaa to name just a few!)

Now, please enjoy this one- it's a bit shorter than the others (for my sanity). It'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming of With Stars to Fill My Dream updates after this, and look forward to a fun one-shot for Christmas where Ofelia shares the tradition with her companions! ❤ (Spicy art WIP for a scene in this fic at the end!)

Tags: @zozoparsnips ❤

Prompt 1 | Prompt 2 | Masterlist

Girl, there are really no words strong enough,

To describe all my longing for love.

I don’t want my feelings restrained.

Oh, babe,

I just need you like never before,

Just imagine you’d come through this door,

You’d take all my sorrow away,

***

Ofelia stares into her soup, slightly groggy.

The day had been long, full of fighting through a disgusting sewer looking for Jaheira’s old comrade- who turned out to be surprisingly nice, but it was still a sewer. Ugh. The bath she’d taken still didn’t feel like enough. Despite everything, her companions manage to find entertainment in the form of Scratch performing tricks to which they happily clap and cheer in their little camp beside the harbor.

“Is it not to your tastes?” Gale murmurs, hushed tones doing nothing to mask his question from the others around the campfire. She smiles softly, stirring the clear broth and noodles.

“No, it’s really good… I’m just a little tired from the day.” He offers her an understanding smile before Karlach knocks into him from behind in her bid to have Scratch chase the ball she holds aloft.

Ofelia pushes her utensil around the bowl, mind wandering to their resident vampire as vague loneliness distracts her from truly joining the others. Astarion had gone to his tent long before dinner was served and with a chaste kiss, he left her beside the fire, a glimmer to his eyes and a lingering touch on her shoulder. She had wondered if he wanted her to join him, but she hadn’t been sure. Usually, he’d just ask—this time he didn’t. So she’s stayed, catching herself almost falling face-first into her food a few times.

As the rest gather closer to the campfire, listening to Jaheira and Minsc tell stories of their old adventures, Ofelia starts to feel it. It begins as a tingle in her belly and a gentle onset of warmth that unfolds over her face and abdomen, making her feel overheated and flustered. At first, she blames the broth, wondering if she’s starting to get sick until the sensation settles between her thighs and she inhales sharply.

“Ofelia? Is everything alright?” Shadowheart asks, but Ofelia doesn’t reply. Her heart starts to race, sweat breaking over the back of her neck, and she shifts in her seat to stifle the feeling but it’s no use. An ache, stunning in its force, unfolds below and she sets her bowl down on the ground with shaking hands. The tadpole chitters in her skull- a familiar throb beginning at her temples and she instantly knows what’s happening.

She feels him, his motions, the air puffing through his flared nostrils as his teeth anchor over his rolled-up shirt, long, deft fingers palming the hard bulge over his pants. She feels it as if she is him and she tenses when he unties the laces and lets his cock spring free as a quiet sigh of relief pours from his lips.

“U-uh yeah…” Ofelia looks up at Shadowheart, eyes misty and cheeks red. The half-elf frowns, holding the back of her hand over her forehead, and Ofelia jumps at the contact.

“You’re feeling a little warm…” Shadowheart continues, but Ofelia’s lost in the feeling of Astarion finally stroking himself, she can feel his stomach tightening and his fangs digging through the fabric into his lower lip as he holds back a soft moan. Sensations build across her skin, her forehead feverish and her mouth dry. She shifts on the log, holding back a soft whine as heat pools between her legs and the feeling of him swiping his thumb over the wetness gathering at the tip lights her nerves on fire.

She feels him set a slow pace, driving himself mad at the gentle rocking of his hips as he fucks his hand. Ofelia bites her cheek hard, eyes squinting shut as the sensations of relief clash with her unrestrained desire- frustration causing her to twitch and dig her nails into her arms. She tries to reach out, but there’s a strange wall up between them keeping her strictly in receiving territory.

“Ofelia…” The blunt edges of her teeth almost cut the tip of her tongue off when her jaw snaps shut. His voice in her mind, chanting her name, is the gavel that seals her fate. She fights the urge to make a sound of discomfort, more of his pleasant sighs ringing in her ears as she stands abruptly.

“I… don’t feel well. I think I’m going to lie down.” She says through gritted teeth as Astarion quickens the pace of his movements, her body flooding with a rush of heat that spreads from her core outward. Shadowheart looks vaguely troubled, as do the rest who’d looked up at the quiet commotion, but no one interjects. Ofelia manages to slip away, thanking whatever gods that Astarion had put his tent as far from the fire as possible- yet still very much in hearing range. She throws open the entrance to find him smirking up at her, the culprit in hand glistening gloriously in the candlelight. The sight makes her knees weak.

“You… did you do that on purpose? How come I couldn’t get through?” Her voice is hushed but measured and dangerous, his smile deepening as she steps fully inside.

“How else was I going to get you over here?” he murmurs, soft and seductive. She carefully lowers herself to her knees beside him as he idly moves his hand back and forth, maintaining eye contact as they remain connected. She can feel the twist of his fingers and the subtle flex of his wrist. When a soft groan echoes in her mind, she opens her eyes to blink in confusion.

“Was that only in my head?” His grin deepens, hands abandoning their task to unclasp her corset and tug it off completely.

“Correct,” He reaches up and pulls her down till her lips crash over his and he devours every little breathless sigh and tremble of her body. “We haven’t touched like this in so long… we’re too close to everyone…” She hums at the words in her head, soft as she can, unable to linger on them as the slightest touch of his lips to her neck sends chills down her spine. He undoes her bra and her nipples stiffen in the chilled air, unable to restrain the gasps that slip past her teeth as his fingers barely brush over them. She’s so sensitive… doesn’t remember ever feeling it this intensely before.

Perhaps it has been a while for them… they’d not done much else but fight through the Lower City for the last few days, and before that, it had been fighting to get to the gates and through Gortash’s Steel Watch. Which hadn’t put up much of a fight, since they’d been allowed entry at the cost of a sham deal. Her eyes widen at the mental count she’s gone through, the number eighteen shining in her vision as his soft tut slices through the realization.

“Eighteen gods damn days and I haven’t been inside you for a single one of them. I feel like I’m dying,” He growls. She flushes hard, lips parted as she holds his ruby eyes in her gaze. They pierce right through her and he uses the connection to withdraw the scene playing within, lips ticking up at the corner to reveal his pretty fangs.

“No snooping,” She pouts, her cheeks rising in temperature as his hands move to enact the craving she’d accidentally let slip.

“Please, you were leaving that exactly where you hoped I’d find it.” She squints her eyes shut and holds back a noise, unwilling to tell him out loud what that gravelly growl just did to her. With a light chuckle, she knows he’s very aware, and one hand nudges her thighs apart so he can dip between them and lightly run up the seam of her through her clothes.

“Mmmph!” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth, heat surging through her veins at the light touch. It’s enough to leave her trembling, eyes snapping open to zero in on him through the haze around the edges of her vision.

“I barely have to try and you’re already so wet for me… tssk tssk.” She whimpers softly, letting him do it again, and another gush of wetness dooms her further, making denial impossible as she bites down on her fingers to stifle the moan.

Shakily she lets him guide her onto her back on the blankets, heart fluttering as his cool digits caress the plump skin of her belly to rest at the waistband of her pants. His eyes linger over hers as he sits up, moving smoothly through her vision as he gently prods her knees and she complies by propping them up. Once he’s pushed them apart, he sits between them, those painstakingly perfect curls of his now tousled and lying in soft sweeps over his forehead and ears. Cute and messy- just the way she likes.

“Everyone’s still awake and just outside…” She whispers, though her eager pants and the waves of longing growing within push the concern aside. He tightens his grip on her legs, leaning down ever so slightly, and as he hovers above a wicked smile unfurls over his pale pink lips.

“And?” Cheeks aflame, she brings her hands up to rest over her bare breasts, obscuring the stiff peaks from his sight, and his eyes glint with disapproval. “Hmm. Seems like I’ll have to use them after all.” Before she can open her mouth to question him, he’s reaching for something beneath a cushion in the corner, and her eyes widen in realization when he pulls it and its companions out from their hiding place.

“Really? I didn’t think you’d like this sort of stuff,” She smirks, watching his smile deepen.

“Oh, but your eyes lingered a little too long on them in that shop window, and I assumed. Do feel free to tell me if I’ve made a mistake.” Her entire body roars with heat at the sight of the pretty, silken red rope as he beckons for her to give him her wrists.

“Astarion… this is dangerous. What about everybody?” She murmurs, obeying his command as she weaves her fingers together so he can restrain her properly.

“Use the tadpole.” She cocks a brow, focusing on the sweet divot between his brows as he focuses on the task of now tying her forearms together. Her eyes dip further, taking in the bunched-up fabric of his shirt sitting above his narrow waist, and further still until they find the flushed head of his cock and the soft bulging veins that decorate his shaft, saliva pooling in her mouth as she pictures her tongue following the thickest of them from root to tip.

“Naughty,” He chides with a laugh, pinching her nipple as punishment, and with a soft gasp he finishes securing her arms.

“Use the tadpole how?” He sits back on his heels, admiring his handy work, before pulling his shirt off to discard behind him.

“Watch, feel,” She does. His long pale fingers move down the front of his body, gleaming like alabaster beneath the soft golden light. He winds his talented hands around the base of him, trousers slipping down his thighs, and her eyes follow the gentle fist he makes as he drags it up once, lashes fluttering shut as a soft groan enters her mind.

“Wow…” She breathes, and his lips tick up to expose the sharp points of his fangs as her voice mixes within their shared connection. His eyes open, narrow crimson irises tethering to hers, and she shifts and squirms beneath him, desperate for relief as he pumps his hand back and forth faster. Every stroke draws a soft noise from him, breath stolen from her lungs as she lies captivated by the glistening fluid he spreads from the tip over his twitching shaft, the lewd schlick schlick sounds as he pleasures himself in front of her leaving her shaking all over.

“Astarion,” She warns, pinching him with her knees. He laughs under his breath, pausing in his motions to reach forward and slowly drag both her underthings and pants off. She lies there naked, need pooling in her core, and he shuffles his pants off before reaching for one of the other items he’d retrieved earlier.

“Lift your head up, love.” She complies, stealing a kiss from him before silk covers her eyes and he ties it securely in the back.

“Hmmm full of surprises tonight, aren’t you.” She smirks, not knowing if he’s still hovering over her or if he’s leaned back again courtesy of the blindfold.

“Do you trust me, Ofelia?” She frowns at the odd question, shaking her head.

“Of course, why?” She hears a light hum, bubbling out of his throat before his hands run over her hips. It makes her jump, not expecting the contact, and angry waves of lust grow ever insistent against her skin.

“Good. Just remember- the tadpole, darling,” She nods, still mystified, as his fingers begin to work soft breathy sighs from her lips. They caress her cheeks, dance along her neck, stroke the pillowy swells of her breasts to linger over her stiff nipples, before descending further. She gasps when his tongue moves to lave over the places his hands have been as he starts to spread her thighs, gently squeezing the plump flesh.

“Nng… Astarion…” She rolls her hips up into his hands, redirecting the noises she’d like to be making into demanding whines that flow through the stream binding their minds together. His voice is smooth and soft as velvet as he coos back, lips idling below her navel as he kisses her there.

“Good girl,” She spasms as his tongue gathers the juices leaking from her core to flick lightly over her clit, teeth digging into her lip as she fights the urge to voice her reactions into the night air. Her hands strain against the rope, wanting madly to touch him, to do anything, but it’s no use. The material digs deliciously into her skin, her breath coming out in ragged bursts as he does it again and the spark of pleasure that flashes between her legs and behind her eyes almost blinds her.

 “So pent up… so wet… and you taste so sweet.” Her head thrashes from side to side as he resumes his gentle laps over her soaked core, fighting to keep still beneath his strong hands. A few sounds slip from her lips, strangled and soft, and she feels him drag his fangs over her skin in a warning.

“Please go slower…” She pleads, swallowing each whimper that threatens to pour over her lips. It’s so hard… so hard… and he’s ignoring her request, the tip of his tongue pushing the hood back to expose the sensitive nerve as he sucks it roughly. Her hips jerk and her legs tent around him, muted moans escaping her control.

“I thought I told you to keep quiet.” The growl in her mind leaves her thighs trembling and she startles when she feels his fingers grip her chin, a touch on the stern side, as a piece of damp cloth gets pushed against her mouth. She opens up, stifling another groan as her teeth dig into the smooth cotton, tasting herself on the fabric as a shiver pulses down her body at the realization, and every nerve lights up anew.

His mouth closes around her tender bud, sucking lightly just as his fingers sweep over her thigh to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Every light touch feels magnified, her eyes closed beneath the blindfold yet straining to get a glimpse him. She bites harder down onto the fabric when his fingers find her slick entrance to lightly trace the fluttering outline, her muscles seizing and her hips grinding against his mouth in an effort to gain relief. He’s been teasing her thus far, even his lips bathing her in only the daintiest of glances. A growing whine builds in her throat, spilling into his mind through the tadpole, and his pleased hums thunder in her ears as she rests her bound hands over her stomach.

“Please, Astarion,” Her tone is desperate, far past the notion of dignity. When she’s with him, there’s no outer shell. He dismantles her with practiced hands, slow and sweet, and it's both agony and bliss to be known this way.

He plunges his middle finger in to the knuckle and she throws her head back against the cushions, teeth digging into the material further dampened by her saliva as the flames threaten to burn her alive. She utilizes the connection, making sure he can hear every noise she wishes she could voice aloud, and his soft laughs carry through the air in reply- not unkind, but frustratingly smug. He adds another digit and curls them perfectly, her muscles tightening and her impending climax looming closer as he flicks his tongue over her clit.

“Do you think you could be even sweeter and come on my fingers, darling?” She inhales sharply, feeling her walls clench around him in response.

“Yes… anything you want… yes,” He kisses her stomach softly, fangs leaving treasured impressions against her skin, and his free hand tugs her closer before curling beneath her leg, face fully buried between her thighs. Her heart throbs in her chest at the attention, arms extending as far as she can reach to tangle her fingers in his soft hair.

He pumps his fingers in once, twice, mouth latching on fully to suck and lick and push her closer, and suddenly before she can fall off the edge, his face and head leave her grasp. His digits work faster until withdrawing completely to replace his mouth and before she can adjust to the change, the swollen head of his cock is plunging inside, pleasure snapping like a whip over her as he thrusts to the hilt.

“Astarion!” She complies with his request, though he’d been the one to change the terms. Her entire body curls in, the intensity of white-hot ecstasy stealing her breath and raking over her with sharp claws. Her mind lists, falling from the connection before his tadpole latches back on forcefully and she’s gazing at her sweat-slick body through his eyes, watching her chest rise and fall in an effort to come back down.

“Beautiful,” His voice is reverent and soft in the tent, her vision dimming back into the welcoming darkness of the blindfold as he strokes over her waist. She sighs, still riding out the aftershocks of her climax as he throbs inside her, and she feels his hands close around hers before dragging them up above her head. She lifts a brow, curiosity crossing the bridge between their minds, and he clicks his tongue.

“You'll see…” She waits impatiently as his movements cause him to sink even deeper, and she gasps as she adjusts to the stretch. He does something to secure her hands before his warmth leaves her, raw and aching in the space where he’d been.

“Oh, you really planned this out,” Humor laces through the words she projects to him, and with a punitive flick to her nipple, she quiets with a yelp, fire burning hot in her belly at the action.

“Don't sound so surprised,” His tone sends shivers down her spine- deep and flaring with warning. She decides to test her luck further, pulling futilely at the rope around her hands before letting him hear the laugh she wishes she could make.

“Sorry darling,” She chides, hissing as he drags his length out of her. She mourns the loss, but her smile around the gag in her mouth widens at the possibility of where he may end up next. “Just didn't expect this level of forethought-”

“Silence,” He growls in her ear, pulling her underthings out of her mouth much more gently than she'd expected as his tongue sweeps over the wetness left in their wake. “Even gagged you still keep talking. Seems I'll have to shut you up some other way.”

She whimpers with anticipation, only having a second to rub her thighs together once he's left his place between them before the fat head of his cock presses against her grin. She greedily opens her mouth, groaning as he slips inside, and his echoing moans fill the tent with almost alarming volume.

“Thought we were being quiet?” He fists her hair and tips her face to get a better angle, her soft cry smothered by his shaft, and she blissfully dissolves into the feeling of him filling her as his hips move in barely subdued snaps.

“Hells, enough woman. Now be good and stay. Quiet,” He punctuates the last word with a growl and a sharp thrust, slick gushing from her at the sound of his voice. She hums in delight, rosy waves of devotion mixing with the peel of want that crackles through her mind. He strokes her cheek in approval and she trembles at the contrast in comparison to his deep thrusts.

“Alright, pet?” He coos, voice rushing through her and hard to fully grasp as it trickles between her thoughts. She tries to nod, wanting to see the way his hips move as he rocks them back and forth, hunger sharpening into heady desire and he chuckles in reply.

“Suppose you deserve a reward for taking me so well, darling.” She shudders and her cunt clenches around nothing, longing for him in two places at once.

She blinks when he pulls the blindfold up to rest over her forehead, awash in his pale glow as he moves in the candlelight. Every undulation of his body fans hot flames of desire burning low in her abdomen, dangerous and all-consuming. She could stare at him all day- all night. She's especially hypnotized by his spit-soaked length disappearing beneath her nose as her fucks her mouth, her vision going blurry with tears as he starts to rock deeper.

“Gods, look at you,” The words exude awe and barely restrained lust, ragged and restless as they echo back to her. She hums, hollowing her cheeks and swirling her tongue and he hits the back of her throat at last with a shift of her jaw, broken whines spilling from him.

“Fuck,” He hisses outloud, voice barely a whisper as he pulls out enough to let her catch her breath. His face is devastating, screwed up in pleasure and flushed full of the blood she'd given him before dinner. With a loving swipe of his thumb, he gathers the drool covering her chin before pressing the tip of his cock back over her lips.

“Can I feel it too?” She whispers, watching his ruby eyes darken into tiny slivers.

“Gods, yes… Open,” He commands, and she does, their connection strengthening as he pushes inside again.

A bolt of pleasure sparks between her legs at the odd sensation of his entry, and she feels faint at the disorienting pulse of want throwing her into the fire as she discovers firsthand just how lovely her own mouth feels wrapped around him.

“Don't… move for a second,” Her voice rings back, sounding embarrassingly depraved, and she shudders at the way lightly flicking her tongue over the tip feels. He crowns her head with his fingers, lightly scratching at her scalp, and a fever breaks over her skin as he drags himself out before gently pushing back inside.

“Ofelia… this may not be a good idea,” She releases him with a soft pop, feeling their link slacken until only intentional thoughts remain shared.

“What’s wrong?” She speaks low, watching his brow furrow as he releases his lower lip from beneath his teeth.

“I… your bleeding over… gods, it feels new. I won’t last.” A smug grin tugs at her lips and he exhales in sharp rasps.

“Would that really be so bad?” He sighs, stroking her hair, before shuffling down her body. No matter how much she whines in protest, he ignores her, knees caging in her legs as his elbows rest beside her shoulders.

“It is when I’ve got more planned,” She rolls her eyes playfully, huffing a laugh when he tugs the blindfold back down and affectionately pinches her cheek.

With her senses rendered to four once more, she strains for any indication of his next move as she feels him sit up, backside resting against the tops of her thighs as his heavy cock bumps her stomach. She twists her arms until the silk closes around her wrists painfully, letting out a shuddering sigh at the feeling as she lies in wait.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Astarion murmurs, finally, and she tenses in anticipation of what he’s alluding to. She doesn’t have to count the seconds for long, a drop of heat landing on her right breast to singe her before cooling against her skin.

“You didn’t…” She rasps, feeling the web holding her thoughts aloft begin to fray at the seams. She writhes and moans, inhaling sharply when his palm covers her mouth and a few more drops spill over her chest.

“You make such lovely noises for me, darling” He whispers, thumb caressing her nipple as wax drips across her sternum. She catches a finger in her mouth and nips at him, earning a gravelly growl as he presses two digits against her lips. She sucks them in like her life depends on it, teeth closing around a bite every time he spills more.

The sting of the rope and the molten fire trickling down her breasts shred her mind into ribbons, lungs heaving for oxygen as she tries to hang on. She can hear him everywhere, cool breath tickling her skin as he whispers filthy affections into her ear. Her body simmers beneath the pain of the wax and the lightness of his touch as breathing normally becomes a herculean task.

She weeps beneath the fabric covering her eyes, tears sinking into her scalp as a few scorching drops roll down the plump planes of her stomach. Every sear against her skin has her softly pleading his name through the tadpole, surprised to feel their bond strengthen as breathless whines spill from his lips and he experiences the melted bliss of the wax as if it were grazing his skin.

“You look lovely…” He whispers to her, a fresh drip landing on her clavicle to pool against the hollow of her throat. She reacts to him with feeling alone, pulling at her restraints as she rolls her hips against him.

“A-astarion…” Her voice barely passes from her throat, nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

“Ofelia,” He croons, both hands back on her body now. He must have set it down or blown it out, and she sighs in relief as he drifts over the cool, hardening liquid against her skin. “Like you’re covered in blood,”

She startles when the blindfold slides off, disoriented and struggling to keep his face in view as everything blurs together. Through her daze, she looks down to appreciate the deep wine hues of the wax covering her body like pretty splatters of the sanguine liquid he’s so fond of. He leans down to softly cradle her face in his hands and she gazes up at him, eyes glancing off his flushed cheeks, his pupils eclipsing the pools of flaming red as he captures her lips in a kiss full of sharp teeth and earnest, sweet sighs.

She shivers when he moves her thighs apart and sinks between them, cock sliding against her wet slit before dipping further to brush her clit with each pass. Her fingers twitch, longing to pull free and touch him everywhere, but the slow torture of him doing whatever he likes to her has her drunk on the feeling.

His to mold, his to take. His, his, his.

His hands run up her arms and she feels the rope slacken, allowing her to remove them and linger over the pretty red marks crisscrossing her skin. Her affectionate eyes find him and he kisses her again, breath stolen from her lungs as her body yearns to press against him, like this forever if she were allowed. Her arms wrap around his neck and he slides inside her slowly, little noises mixing on their tongues as he bottoms out and they both exhale in relief.

“You always feel so good, Star,” She murmurs in his ear as he presses his nose against the side of her face. A rumbling growl vibrates against her chest and she smiles, feeling him kiss the drying tears near her temples. “So good,” He groans and finally thrusts, hard, earning a sweet gasp in return.

The inferno burns hotter in her belly, every drag against her walls leaving her desperate for more of him to cling to, to kiss, to touch. The bruising grip he has on her hips leaves her dizzy in the wake of his tender kisses, and she strengthens their bond to share the feeling with him. His pace stutters to a halt, each muscle rippling in a struggle to hold back as his eyes fall shut and he bites his lip to suppress the guttural noise catching in his throat.

“You can’t,” He pants, moving involuntarily and she watches a full-body shiver run through him at the sensation.

“Let me,” She pleads, propping herself up on her elbows to gain leverage, and with it, she pushes him down on his back against the soft blankets. She clambers on top of him, wanting him back inside, but she represses the instinct to softly caress the planes of his chest. He shivers, looking up at her, and once she confirms his consent, she moves her hands over her breasts and touches them like he does.

“Nng… Ofelia…” He whines, hands slipping over her hips. The way his features twist in pleasure and his body curls towards her has her mind spinning, flush with the feeling of him.

She wants to make him feel just as good as he makes her feel, wants him to enjoy every moment, as she always does, forever grateful that he'd chosen to share the pain of his past with her and trusts her with it enough to embrace her in this way. She'll hold it all in her heart, for as long as he'll have her, and longer still if he chooses to bury any of it with her once she's gone.

“You're not going anywhere,” He mumbles, eyes stuck on her. She smiles adoringly, running her fingers over his lips before she sinks to kiss him.

She can hear her heart race through his ears, sharpened by his abilities. She runs her hands up his arms, worshiping every square inch with soft fingertips and eventually her mouth, too. Every noise that he makes sinks her deeper, reveling in the way it all reflects on her body and sends tingling pleasure across her skin. The Astarion she knows, with his haughty attitude and snide remarks, falls away beneath her touch and she can’t hide the pride that tears through her mind, knowing it’s all because of her. Every sigh, every twitch, every whispered plea washes over her and it’s almost hard to tell which moves are his and which are hers.

“Ahh… ahh… slow…” He murmurs and she nods, hovering over him, shaking from the promise of having him inside and wanting it so badly she can hardly breathe. She closes her eyes, sinking her teeth into her lip until the flesh splits beneath them when he finally slips in.

“Gods…” Their voices mix within their minds, and she’s looking up at herself and looking down at him, uncertain which sets of eyes she's supposed to be seeing through. Her vision spins and she grows dizzy, mind melting into pleasure as she forces her hips down in one quick thrust that has her sight leaving her in a flash of light followed by the sweet darkness of her fluttering lashes.

She sways astride him, the sounds he’s making loud and frantic, his entire body pulsing with need and blinding sensation. There’s no way they’ve managed to hide their affairs from the rest of camp by now, but that thought drifts from her mind and vanishes among the unbearable heat building in her core.

“Are you okay?” She whispers, reigning in her sense of self as much as she’s able to while laboring under the feeling of his cock swelling and pulsing inside her. She can’t look at him, eyes shut tight as her thumbs brush over his chest, trying to soothe him into a reply as the ghost of her touch drifts over her skin.

At an unspeakable urge, she opens her eyes to lock onto his, and she digs her nails into his skin at the look he gives her. His hands tighten over her hips and she reaches for the stool behind him, letting her breath out in a rush as he lifts her and slams her back down against him.

“Star!” She tastes iron in her mouth, eyes trained on his and thoughts lost to the void as she rides him. With each thrust she loses the dividing line distinguishing their bodies from each other, feeling the insistent demand to take him deeper, harder- anything to get to the edge. The impressions of his fingers adorn her skin in violet petals, each thrust leaving her trembling as she chants his name in her head. Her gaze seeks reprieve within his as he tangles his fingers in the hair at the base of her skull while the other hand rests over her shoulder, pulling her close as they chase the building heat unraveling them.

“Love…” His voice is raw when he opens his mouth, her fingers tracing his cheek as she tightens her hold on his waist to slow to a less energetic bounce. “I love you.” She blinks in surprise, the phrase rare and sweet in her ears- one he never utters frivolously. Thoughts of him dapple her vision, a recollection of every moment she’s felt so sincerely in love with him. She melts into a breathless laugh, smitten beyond the point of no return as they fade back into precious memories, edges tinged in hues of warm pink.

“I love you too,” She sighs, kissing him once before peppering more over his jaw and down his throat. His answering groans have her walls constricting around him as he pulls her against his chest, deep thrusts propelling them closer and closer. She licks a stripe up the side of his neck, reveling in the twitch of his cock inside her before she nips him.

“Ofelia!” It’s just as sweet as she’s always pictured when her teeth sink into his flesh, her neck throbbing at the phantom pain. He stills, lust and roaring heat dancing between their connection as his nails sink into her hips. She reaches down, stealing his hands to intertwine with her own, and rises to resume the punishing rhythm as she dredges wounded cries from deep inside his chest.

The band tightens, walls fluttering when he angles himself and hits the spot that has high-pitched moans marking each upward drive of his hips as she stares into his eyes. His smolder with approval and his hands slip from her own to cover her breasts, kneading the soft flesh and drawing little breathy whines from her mouth. Gods… she could ride him all night.

“I won’t stop you,” He huffs with a smile and she laughs, ending on a needy whimper.

“Need more…” She pleads and he wraps his arms around her back, stealing kisses from her mouth, before stilling her movements and readjusting their bodies. Once he’s settled, she’s perched in his lap, holding onto his shoulders for balance as he lifts her once, holding just the tip inside, before thrusting up.

“Hells…” He sighs, expression contorted as if in pain. “Come for me?” Her eyes fly shut and she nods madly, fireworks bursting behind her lids as one hand snakes between their bodies to rest where they’re intimately connected. Deft fingers slide over her aching clit and she digs her nails into his back as her thighs begin to shake.

“Astarion… I’m so close… please.” She begs, whimpering beneath the soft swirls of his fingers. His face nestles against her neck, fangs hovering over her skin in a vow to pierce and drink and she silently compels him forward, craving the intrusion and the overwhelming maelstrom it provides. Bitten and dizzy, she cries his name, falling apart as he strokes over her and her climax bleeds onto his mind.

His strangled shout is lost amid the flood, following right behind as he spills inside her. He presses them together, shivering and sweaty, the mental thread between them finally severing as they drift in and out of coherence. She caresses his hair, fighting for breath as his lips brush over the punctures in her neck before pulling away.

Heavy-lidded, he appraises her form before softening and she smiles sleepily at him, hooked on the pretty blush covering his cheeks and the blood smeared at the corner of his mouth. As her hands move to his jaw, she grazes the delicate points of his ears until shivers wrack his body and her mouth widens in amusement. He grumbles dramatically before pulling her down to cover her smile with a passionate kiss, hands fisted into her hair as she rocks against him.

“Maybe we should go without for a month next time if this is what I get for it.” She laughs at the disdain on his face, humming softly as his hands run over her breasts and gently squeeze.

“Over my dead body,”

“Star, you are dead.” He lays her on her back, stiff and swelling inside, and she makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat as his lips drop to the shell of her ear.

“Mmm, not happening. I think I'll have you again now,” His teeth catch the tender lobe and her breath hitches, the sweet rolls of his hips drawing more hoarse moans from her mouth.

“Wait… do you hear that?” Astarion stills at her question, quirking a silver brow.

“What?” She shakes her head, listening for any noise but not even the lapping of the water against the docks is audible.

“I don't hear anything…” Embarrassment washes her face in a sheen of scarlet and he laughs.

“I heard Gale cast it thirty minutes ago. Not to worry dear, you can scream as hard as you want when I make you come again. No one will hear.”

“Ughhh!” She covers her face with her hands, shame like a brand heating the surface of her skin. “That’s so humiliating!” He chuckles and resumes his thrusts, apparently serious about going again, and she sighs as her hands fall onto the cushion beside her head.

“Don’t be such a prude, they’ve all heard us before.” She rolls her eyes, gradually forgetting her discomfort as he brings the stars close again.

In their own little haven, separate from the rest of the world- the Absolute, her complicated heritage, and the looming fight to finally free him from his master- the silence shields them from it all. She loses count of how many times they fall apart, the spell from before crumbling before he’s finished with her, but that doesn’t stop him. She holds fast, his neck muffling her sobs as he draws out their bliss with every soft-spoken word and move of his body. He hovers above her when he’s spent, and even as she’s rapidly losing the fight to stay conscious, the smile won’t leave her face.

“We have to get up in a few hours,” Ofelia mumbles, trying to swat him away when he goes to pinch her cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re regretting it all,” He laments, expression breaking into those big wet eyes she both loves and despises, mostly because he uses them to get his way.

“Of course not… but I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow, so if I ask you to carry my pack I don’t want to hear it.”

“Deal,” He noses at her neck, soft and sweet as he finishes cleaning them up, and when they curl together under the blankets she presses kisses to his lips.

“What do we do once this is all over… no more tadpoles?” Her question is hushed, posed in such a way that it could lead to a multitude of answers.

He stares at her, wrapped up in his arms, and he brings a hand up to rest against her face. Cool marble against a sun-soaked beach.

“I don’t know. But at least we’ll be together.”

***

Guys- I HATE DRAWING HANDS but please look at this WIP I'm working on. 👉👈

[freaky-deaky-cookies]

Hi can I make a request I totally understand if you don’t want to write about this. I wasn’t sure if you take angst request like this so im sorry if I’ve sent this and you dont take requests like this. My request is for bg3 companions with a tav who is kind of a shell of a person. Like a demon could take their soul and they would fine with because they see no use for it. They just sort of go through life and are just waiting for their death. This is due to their tragic backstory that I won’t go into detail about but there is themes of repeated sa involved (you don’t have to mention this if you don’t feel comfortable) this request is based off of my oc which I hold very close to my heart and really just looking for some comfort right now. Like I said tho if this isn’t something you are comfortable with I completely understand.

BG3 Companions x Tav who is an empty shell (Comfort HCs)

Gale

Gale is a lot more perceptive than he appears to be

He notices the void of sadness behind Tav’s eyes

If Gale felt a genuine concern for Tav, he would ask to speak to them in private

When he approached them, he would not demand attention. Instead, he’d sit quietly beside them, offering only the weight of his presence. He wouldn’t try to fix them, but simply be there, sharing the silent knowledge that sometimes, just being was enough.

Wyll

Wyll would approach the situation quietly and calmly

He wants to ensure Tav knows that he – and the others – are a safe place for them to feel whatever they need to 

Offers a listening ear and only comments if asked

“I know what it feels like to think you’ve lost it all,” he’d begin, his gaze gentle. “But I want you to know something. You don’t have to carry this alone. You have people here who care. And that’s worth something, even when it feels like it isn’t.”

Astarion

He understands, he really and truly does

He himself has been there hell, he is still trying to dig his own way out of the void

Astarion was not a man accustomed to offering comfort. He was far more at ease with sharp words and cynical humor than with gentle reassurances. But with Tav, it was different. When he saw the emptiness in their eyes, he felt an instinct he couldn’t ignore—a tenderness that surprised him, even though he would never admit it aloud.

“You know," he’d start, his voice unusually soft, "you’re not as invisible as you think. I see you. I know what it feels like to be hollow—nothing left but the shell of a person. But you’re still here. Still standing. And that counts for something."

Lae’zel

Comfort is not her strong suit, like at all

While she may not take the most gentle approach, she respect Tav like no other and does not with to bring them any unwanted harm

She didn’t have the words to soothe the soul, but she had something she could give: strength. Her voice would be sharp, but it was clear she was trying to reach through to them, to remind them of the warrior they had the potential to be.

She wouldn’t coddle Tav, but her presence would be one of unwavering support.

Halsin

(I believe he would be the best to go to when faced with anything troubling)

His own heart breaks at the sight of someone he holds dear in so much pain

While Tav does not show it, he knows them well enough to see through that facade

“You are not beyond healing, Tav,” he’d say, his voice like the rustle of leaves in the wind. “It may not be quick, and it may not be easy, but you can grow from this. And I’ll be here to help you, however long it takes.”

Shadowheart

Shadowheart understood loss in a way that few could. Having sacrificed so much in the name of her faith, she had learned the deep ache of feeling lost and broken, even as she clung to hope. When she saw Tav, something in her recognized the emptiness—the hollow look in their eyes that mirrored the darkness she had once lived in.

Shadowheart would not push Tav to speak, but she would stay close.

Jaheira

Jaheira wouldn’t offer empty platitudes or tell them to ‘snap out of it.’ Instead, her words would be measured, rooted in the kind of wisdom that comes only with age and experience.

Jaheira wouldn’t rush toward Tav or overwhelm them with too many words. Instead, she’d give them space but remain near enough to show she was there, a steady presence in the quiet of the camp. Her approach would be measured, as she always was, and her tone would be gentle, but there would be no hiding the firmness of her resolve.

Mithara

When she saw Tav—someone who had already resigned themselves to the idea of being worthless, someone who had already given up on their own soul—it hit Minthara harder than she would admit. It was a reminder of the darkness she had lived in and the toll it took.

“I won’t pretend I have the answers. And I won’t ask you to simply believe in something when you don’t,” Minthara would say, her voice tinged with the knowledge of her own mistakes. “But I can tell you this: You don’t have to walk through it alone. If you want me to stay, I will. If you want silence, I can give you that too. I am here.”

She would stay by their side, offering her presence more than anything. It wasn’t a grand gesture, and it wasn’t about trying to force Tav to snap out of it or seek some grand redemption.

Karlach

"Hey," she’d say, sitting down beside Tav and offering her broad, calloused hand. "You’re not in this alone, alright? I’ve been to places where I didn’t think I’d make it through. But I did. And I don’t care how long it takes. You’re going to make it too. You don’t have to be alone in this. Not while I’m around."

Her words would be warm, her fire like a shield around them. She’d hold Tav’s hand and, even if they didn’t respond, she wouldn’t leave. Her presence was a quiet promise that they didn’t need to do this by themselves.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Sunwalker

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 2.2K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, near death experience for y/n, Astarion crying, companions featured!, visiting Avernus (yikes), the Underdark, guilt, fear

--------------------------

Astarion smoothed his thumb over the ring on your finger. No matter how long you had been married it was still as if you had just said “yes” to him. 50 years have passed since the elder brain. 40 of which you have been married for. And every day you woke to those scarlet eyes and fell in love all over again. You remained yourself, Astarion never pressured you to turn into a vampire like him. He knew the loneliness it could bring and he didn’t want that for you. You managed to cultivate an elixir that froze your mortality. It nearly cost you your soul to get all the ingredients, most of which you had to beg, borrow, or just flat out steal from some very prominent gods. But you did it. You froze your aging, remaining as young and beautiful as you were when Astarion met you. 

You watched the glow peer through the sheer curtains, leg thrown over Astarions waist as he held your waist in his sleep. Holding you close as always. You looked out into the Underdark, the strange landscape had been your home for quite some time. Beautiful as it was, you missed the sun. The fresh air, the occasional breeze. You never let onto it, knowing Astarion would spiral, envisioning himself as some sort of leech who kept you trapped with him. You would trade the sun for him any day. But still, the heart longs for things it once knew so well. 

“Your face will get stuck like that if you frown any harder.” Astarion whispered. 

You looked up at him, his eyes were closed still, the ever perceptive bastard. “Bad dream.” you mumbled as you relaxed your face, snuggling into his chest. 

“Tell me?” he asked while gently massaging your scalp.

“Sleepy…” you said with a yawn before kissing his chest.

“Then sleep my love, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

-------------------------------

You awoke feeling refreshed. Your house was still bathed in darkness. You had grown accustomed to this, but still, sometimes you missed being greeted by the golden rays of the sun. 

“Darling,” you started as you stretched your rigid limbs, “I was thinking… Maybe we could go to the surface for a few days? Gale has been begging to see me ever since we moved to the Underdark. I miss our friends. And Jaheira isn’t far off from Waterdeep. Neither is Shadowheart. And I’m sure Karlach would slip away from Avernus for a bit if she knew everyone was top side.” you picked at your nails, you hated talking about the surface. You alway wondered if it made Astarion feel bad.

Astarion kissed your forehead before pulling you up so you could be eye level with him. “My sweet, you may go to the surface whenever you wish, you know that. But… somebody has to stay with the spawn. Especially the younglings, they’re still so unpredictable.” his eyes held a sad look. He would never admit it, but he missed your companions too, even Gale. But he knew what he signed up for when he released them. He kept balance between he spawn and the Underdark’s natural inhibitors; drow, myconids, duergar, etc. 

You let out a small sigh, “Only a few days, I swear it.” you kissed him, thumbing over his cheek as you held his face. 

He leaned his forehead against yours, “I know, you can’t live without me.” he said with a smirk but you could hear it in his voice. The waver that held uncertainty. He knew you loved him, but it is so easy to leave and never return. 

------------------------------

You opened a portal early in the morning. You left Astarion a jar of your blood on the kitchen table along with a little love note. He knew you were leaving early, giving you a small kiss before he watched you go. 

The sun was blinding and took your eyes several minutes to adjust. The soft glow of the Underdark didn’t compare to the ball of fire in the sky. It almost felt oppressive. However - feeling the warmth on your skin, the wind in your hair, the smell of the grass. Gods how you missed it all. You ran your hands through the  tall grass as you walked towards Gale’s tower you saw off in the distance. 

He captured you in a bone crushing hug as soon as he saw you. “Y/N! My dear friend, how I’ve missed you.” he said fondly. “Come, come! Everyone is inside!” 

As promised everyone was inside, even Lae’zel. You hugged them all, holding each of them a little longer than normal. God’s you missed them all. Everyone looked just the same, a few new scars and wrinkles here and there, but the same. Gale had managed to pull something off similar to you, ingesting dark fire to keep his soul bound to this plane of existence thus his body remained as well. 

“No Astarion?” Karlach asked with sadness evident in her voice. 

Your friends all looked at you sympathetically, “The spawn… they need him. And the sun… tends to be an issue.” you said with a slight laugh, trying not to bring the mood down. 

“Did you never find the Sunwalker’s ring?” Shadowheart asked.

“Our leads stopped years ago… we made a home in the Underdark. It’s not so bad, we never get sunburned.” you shrugged with a lopsided smile. 

Your friends nodded, quickly changing the subject as they noticed your mood dropping. You talked, drank, ate, and laughed. It felt identical to when you traveled together, regaling each other with new and old stories. Eventually though, bedrolls called to everyone. 

You looked out the window of Gale’s tower. You had almost forgotten about the moon. You felt a pang in your chest, you missed your husband. You twisted your wedding band around your finger, trying to feel close to him in the dark. 

Gale walked up to you slowly “Missing someone?” he said as he passed you a chalice of wine. 

You smiled softly, “You only get one great love in life… it hurts to be away from him.” you said looking into the deep red of the wine. 

Gale nodded in understanding. “If I may, I might know of another way.” 

“Way for what?” you said with a confused look. 

“A way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.” he said, his eyes shining with hope.

Your eyes widened, “Go on…” you said.

“In Avernus, there is something called “The Eternal Pit "; it is a hellish void. A portal really. To a realm of the unknown, but if you survive it, those who have returned alway return with their hearts desire.” Gale said with excitement. 

“I’ll do it.” you said immediately, “Now, we go now.” you said as you jumped down from the ledge of the window. You rushed to Karlach’s room, knocking lightly before you rushed in. She laid on her bed, resting but her eyes met yours as soon as the door opened. 

“Hello?” she said with confusion on her face.

“I need you to take me to The Eternal Pit.” you said quickly.

Her face was dripping with shock. “I’m sorry, what? You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” You said sitting on the bed next to her. “Please, it’s the only way Astarion can walk in the sun again. He deserves it, Karlach.” you begged, your eyes becoming glassy. Your lover deserved the world, and you’d do anything to give it to him. 

She sighed, her eyes searching yours. “I have a feeling you’ll go with or without me… fine.” she sighed.

She started to put her armor on. You dawned your mage armor along with your simple chain mail. “After you.” she said, opening the portal back to Avernus.

----------------------------

“As requested, The Eternal Pit.” Karlach said, cringing as she looked into the swirling black void in the center of the burning, abandoned monastery. 

Your gaze never broke from it, “If I don’t return…”

“Don’t” she said sternly.

“If I don’t… tell Astarion I’m sorry for leaving him alone… I just wanted to give him everything he deserved. And that I love him more than he could ever know.” you finished your sentence before letting yourself fall forward into the pit. 

Heat enveloped you, thick and sticky like tar. It felt fluid and yet molten at the same time. You walked through a sea of nothingness, just emptiness for what felt like ever before you arrived at a shimmering mirror. You gazed at yourself, skin melted, bone showing. You touched the shimmering surface of it before you were thrown backwards. A devil slowly made her way out of the mirror. Her imposing figure looming above yours. 

“What dost thou want?” her voice echoed in a sinister whisper throughout the void yet her lips never moved. 

“The Sunwalker’s ring.” you stuttered out as you lay in the blackened tar like fluid. 

“Why?” she asked.

“My lover needs it.” you said simply, not wanting to overshare in case the devil was trying to form some sort of trick.

“What whilst thou sacrifice?” she asked, outstretching her hand.

You thought hard. What could you give of equal value? “Take whatever you wish, just not my soul or immortality.” 

The devil smiled, “You’re brave. What are you willing to endure for this boon?”

“Anything.” you said. Suddenly you felt all your skin peeling off. Your nails being removed one by one. 

“Pain is your price. If you say stop, your soul stays with me.” she smiled wickedly.

The pain was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Searing. Melting. Evil. You writhe about, feeling every part of you be ripped apart just to be put back together and torn apart once again. You screamed and cried but never said stop. You remember everything fading, slipping deeper into the tar like water before you felt… nothing. There was an absence of everything in this abyss. 

--------------------------

Astarion rushed through the halls of Gale’s tower, not caring if the sun scorched his skin every time he walked past a window. He made it to the laboratory in the basement. He stopped when he saw your body resting on a gurney. 

He rushed to you, “What happened?!” he yelled, demanding to know. 

You had been missing for three days before you reappeared in Waterdeep. Fainting as soon as you materialized, Gale kept you in the laboratory. He watched your vitals day and night, Karlach blaming herself for taking you despite knowing your stubborn heart would have gone no matter what. 

“OUT! Both of you get out!” he screamed. Feverish tears rushed down his cheeks as soon as he knew he was alone. He held your limp hand, kissing over your face “Wake up, please… you promised…” he held your forehead to his. His sobs wracked him, he kept his head on your chest for hours, listening to the only sign of your life. Your heart beat was weak but steady. He didn’t meditate for days. 

“Astarion…” Karlach said as she entered. She left a cup of fresh blood next to him. “They… I know their heart and mind was filled with only you when they stepped into that pit.” she patted his shoulder. 

He didn’t move, he was practically catatonic. They had told him what happened. Why you went. Your last words. Everything. He couldn’t be without you so this is where he would stay until he too faded into nothing. 

Astarion was sure he hallucinated it, a twitch of your eyebrow. Then your finger. He saw your eyes shifting beneath your lids. His head shot up despite the dizziness he felt due to lack of feeding. “Little love?” he whispered.

You shot up bolt right, leaning off to the side to throw up black liquid that scorched the stone flooring. After coughing and gagging for a solid minute you regained your sight a bit, “Astarion?” you mumbled, unsure if he was really there or if this was a fever dream. 

“Darling?” he said, kissing over your face. 

You sunk back down feeling weak. 

“GALE!” Astarion let out a booming yell which had the wizard running in. As soon as he saw you were awake he rushed a bottle of antidote and superior healing to your lips. Color returned to your face quickly. 

“Don’t ever do that shit again.” Astarion said with a watery tone. 

“I know, you can’t live without me.” you mumbled with a smirk as your shaky hand reached for his face, cupping his cheek. 

Astarion let out a shaky laugh before he kissed you. The healing potion tingled against his lips but didn’t distract him enough to feel a warm sensation slide up his ring finger. He begrudgingly pulled away to look at the cause. A golden band with a golden gem softly glowing. 

His eyes widened, “How did you…”

You softly smiled at him dragging him back into a kiss. “Let’s go home.” you whispered against his lips as you carded your fingers through his hair. 

“No…” he shook his head, “My brothers and sisters will manage without me. We’ve lived in the shadows long enough. Let’s make a new home.” he said.

You nodded quickly, pulling him into a crushing kiss as you pressed him close to you. He held you tightly, responding with just as much urgency and passion. “I love you.” he said.

You kissed him over and over, “I love you. Now, Sunwalker, let’s go make a home for ourselves.”

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Naboo's Note:

Hello all! This was based off a request so thank you for sending that in. This was awesome to write! Had a lot of fun with it, got the creative juices flowing. I hope everyone is well. I work an overnight tomorrow so expect another fic to be out soon! Thanks for everything!!! TTYLXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!!!!!

[zwolfgames]

Idk, but I think bg3 reader would try to leave the group, if they know about their yandere personalities, lol. Please, your bg3 works are so good. I expect the new one

(So, not a continuation of the last drabble. This is hypothetical for now. Also it deleted my answer the first time :( so this is try two, it may seem a bit rushed. And I got a bit off track, woops.)

Warnings: mentions of yandere stuff I suppose.

Y/N in this au (aka teen tav) really isn't stupid, sure they grew up in a village with just their mother and pulled random spells out of their ass like a true sorcerer, but they're not stupid.

The party started with variable reactions to a minor in the group. Act 1 doesn't showcase a lot of Yan tendencies due to everything still going kind of fine and everyone getting to know each other.

The yandere part really starts in act 2 when they enter the Shadow cursed lands. Unlike the normal region of act 1 are the Shadowlands riddled with danger.

The party quickly gets their wake-up call after things like Kar'niss (who gets his little momemt) and the other bosses and dangers. Katherine Thorm, being a threat, also doesn't help ease the party's feelings.

The group would go from silly to way more protective in act 2. But Y/N can't do anything about that yet. The shadows would eat them alive, or someone else could get them. Better left with unease rather than dead, right?

I've purposefully mentioned Y/N's mother in the drabbles to show the main goal of the reader, which is to return to their mother. This goal is being held back by a party of people who no longer seem intent to part ways with you once this is over.

Sure, Y/N wanted their cool adventure with heroes like Wyll Ravenguard, but staying with them permanently? Haha... no.

So after the wake-up call of act 2, Y/N would take their chances at escape in Baldur Gate. The thing is, though, Y/N isn't from Baldurs Gate. They don't know the alleys like the back of their hand in the same manner that Astarion does. They didn't grow up playing in the secret passageways like Karlach...

This is a dangerous game you're playing. The more you wiggle, the tighter their hold. It's just how it goes with people who have faced enough to lose it.

They handle you in different ways, of course.

Wyll, Gale, and Halsin strike me as the type to have wanted to protect this poor kid from the start, so their resolve just strengthens to unnecessary levels. You wouldn't mind just being carried to bed by a bear man, would you? He knows some good elvish lullabies.

Lae'zel is her own separate category, she's a githyanki, they have very diffrent ways then most folk on faerun. I'm basing her motherly ability on the prologue where she raises the gith egg. She may not be affectionate, but she does not want you out of sight. Expect training.

Karlach and Astarion surprisingly go together here. They don't seem like the parental type. More of an aunt/uncle. Would try and stay your friend. Guiltripping from Karlach that she may or not be aware of herself, and straight up manipulation from Astarion. They both had a bad past. You can stay, right? As a little gift from the gods?

Shadowheart didn't like you from the start, not a fan of kids. Her yandere strikes a lot later. First, she had only been worried about your health as a cleric. After her arc at the end of the shadow cursed lands (freeing Dame Aylin etc) she gets a bit of that parental feeling nonsense too. Though I'd say she shows it the least. You'd be tricked easily into thinking she's the only normal one in the party.

Minthara, I'm unsure if I can find a good way to let her join, but she'd be similar to Lae'zel, just crueler and definitely bot secretive about her want for your stay. If you ask her directly, she'd just plain out and say that if she catches you, you're getting bound.

Jaheira, natural mom, she's got kids, protected the kids. Don't expect her to be sweet, but you're definitely not going out of sight.

Minsc joins in Act 3, so really, he doesn't have the time to get to know you, he's funny, you're funny. Friends. Not that the rest appreciates the time you spent with him. They're scared you're gonna make up a talking animal next.

All in all, Y/N would try and escape. It just isn't very likely to succeed. If you get far... well, there are other beings out there still after you, you know?

Just forget your mom. Aren't they better family now? Your mom didn't teach you spells, did she? Or swordplay? Maybe how to make balms?

Cmon, they're the best option. Stay.

Just an answer lol, hope i didn't make anyone too OOC with just this. Xd.

[senualothbrok]

Content

Summary: After seeing everyone at the reunion party, Gale wonders if you regret choosing him over Astarion.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Unascended Gale x Tav. Unascended Astarion. Mild hurt/comfort. Fluff.

AO3 link

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“That-” The bed dips as he collapses beside you. “Was a lovely evening.”

It is instinct now, to nestle yourself into him, to nuzzle into the nook where his neck meets his shoulder. To interlace your fingers with his.

His words are lightly slurred, drowsy from wine, heavy with pleasure. He is so warm. A light drizzle has begun outside. You lie still, listening to the gentle patter of rain on the sea.

“Everyone looked so happy,” you say. “Did you see Wyll and Karlach?”

His grin is so wide you can hear it. “I can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

“Even Lae’zel.” You laugh. “She told me she was having a nice time. She used the word nice.”

Gale chuckles. Your body moves to its rhythm.

“Shadowheart wants to stop by again next month.”

“That would be marvellous.”

“Did I show you the duck that Halsin gave me?”

“Yes, my love. More than once. I think you showed everyone at the party.”

You sigh. “Even Jaheira and Minsc looked well. Well, Minsc looked like an escaped prisoner, but I guess that’s his version of thriving.”

“It’s heartening to see that some things never change.” He runs his fingers through your hair, slow and soft. Your eyelids begin to flutter. “And that some things do. Astarion, for instance. He seems remarkably well, doesn’t he?”

Your eyes spring open. You shift your head slightly.

“He does.”  

“He and Tara took to each other like flies to a carcass. For almost half an hour they traded casual insults about my beard, my lack of organisation, and my life choices in general. It was most entertaining. For them.

You trace your fingers over his chest. There are the faintest indents in his skin where the mark of the orb used to be.

“Some things never change.” 

“Indeed.” He kisses your forehead. “Just like the good old days, I suppose, when we were two suitors battling for the prize of your precious affections.”

You look up at him with an arched eyebrow. “Is that what I was? A prize to be won through a contest of manhood?”

He rubs his nose against yours. “Of course not. Your love is a gift, one I never dreamed I’d deserve.”

He goes on before you can protest.

“I think he may still hold my good fortune against me, though. Despite being a changed man. A leader of seven thousand spawn, even.” There is pride in his voice.

In the silence that follows, you bask in that pride. You too are indescribably proud of Astarion, how far he has come, the life he has made for himself.

“No regrets, then?” Gale asks.

He disguises it as a jest, a throwaway comment. But there is a stiffness in his chest, a hollowness to his tone, that he cannot conceal from you.

“Regrets?”

He shuffles. As he tilts his head, you see a crease on his brow.

“Do you regret your choice? Now that you’ve seen Astarion again, in all his glory?”

It is the briefest of moments. You hesitate. And he sees it.

He moves back.  Doubt darkens his features. Desperation quivers in them. He searches your eyes.

You had wanted to brush it off, dismiss it as absurd. Reassure him that you had never entertained any doubts, that you had never been uncertain about your choice. But that would not be true. And you had promised, when you had sworn your lives to each other, that you would always tell the truth.

You had promised each other that you would not sacrifice your own needs on the altar of the other’s approval. Those days were over and gone. You had vowed to always tell each other the truth about what you wanted, what you needed, what you felt. No longer would you ignore or deny who you were out of fear that the other would withdraw their love.

Your marriage had been built on that promise. You could not disregard it now.

“You can tell me.” He nods. There is turmoil in his gaze, but also kindness. And love. So much love.

You place your hand on his heart. You take a deep breath.

“After we ended things, I worried for Astarion. For a long time, I thought I had broken him, even more than he already was. I thought, after all he’d been through, for me to leave him like that…”

You remember the cold tentacles of guilt that latched around your heart, the weight of the shame that crushed you.

“I thought that I could help him. I wanted to be there for him, when no one else had been. He said I was the only one who had ever been kind to him, the only good thing he had experienced in this godsdamned shitty world. To have left him, after all that… I thought I had destroyed him.”

You remember all the sleepless nights, the dreams, the nightmares.  You know, with such certainty, that Gale will understand. You have cradled him in your arms, after all, when he has woken stricken and confused, calling out Mystra’s name. Some things do not need to be explained.

The tenderness of Gale’s gaze gives you strength to continue.

“It was exhausting, to feel like I always wanted him to be something he wasn’t. He resented me for it, for trying to change him. All the times I had to talk him down, justify my decisions, tell him that it was worth it to be kind and compassionate, to help people without expecting anything in return. I’m a Paladin, for gods’ sake, and the number of times I had to explain my oath…” You shake your head. “I felt like I had to make myself smaller, to be a different person, for our love to survive.”

Your voice breaks. “It was too much, anyway, to be the one to save him, to be his only hope.”

There is uncertainty in Gale’s frown. You see the question he holds back.

“It was different with you, Gale. You were a good man long before we met. Even being cursed with the power to obliterate an entire city couldn’t take away your kindness. Your goodness. Even that couldn’t make you bitter or cruel.”

Gale’s face has softened, but he averts his eyes. He looks contrite, when he has no reason to be.

“I admit that I’ve had some concerns.” He grimaces. “When you’re frightfully out of practice, and competing with someone with such clear expertise in matters of seduction…” He clears his throat. “It’s difficult not to wonder.”

“It was never like that.” You hand moves to cup Gale’s cheek. “And seduction, sex – that’s different from…well, making love, forgive the cliché.”

You have discussed intimacy before with Gale, but you have never discussed how things were with Astarion. You do not want to hurt him, but you owe him the truth.

“Sometimes, touch was hard for him. Being close. Showing love. And I understood that. But sometimes, I needed to be touched. To be held.”

It still surprises you, how easy it is to show Gale your heart and all its scars. How safe you feel in the knowledge that he will never run away from them.

“I felt so, so selfish for that.  And for a long time, I blamed myself, for leaving him, for choosing happiness with you.”

The tears come without warning. You brush them away, but they do not stop.

“I could never regret this life with you, Gale. But I did feel guilty. Ashamed. Now, after seeing him, knowing how happy he is, knowing how truly well he is, being able to hug him…” A laugh bursts from you, bright with relief, shaky with tears. “I don’t have to feel that way anymore.”

When he smiles, it is like the light of a thousand stars radiating through you.

“My love,” he whispers. “If I’d known that you were carrying this burden with you all this time, I would have asked you this question sooner.”

He reaches for you and holds you to his chest. You can feel the beating of his heart, echoing through you, boundless as the night sky.

“Choosing you was the best choice I’ve ever made,” you breathe.

His lips caress your hair, your ear, your neck, the tears which fall down your cheeks. His tongue melts into yours as your limbs entwine with his. You give yourself to each other, as you have before, as you will again and again. And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you are content.

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