#IN THIS HOUSE IT'S LOVING LAE'ZEL HOURS

[syrinq]

i haven't felt that "people of x fandom are interpreting character y wrong or reducing them to such a surface level" to a strong degree until like

well

now with baldur's gate 3

[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.

[whathebeep]

Okay so like the perma death of Tav and how it would affect the party-

Just cause my Tav died during the end boss and it got me thinking (SPOILERS FOR SURE) (definitely romance centric around poly Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

The party definitely doesn't fully comprehend it at first. Oh it's fine, Shadowheart has revivify- no? It won't work? Right okay we have the scrolls- oh. Okay well we can bring them back to Withers- what do you mean you can't?

That's it. That's the end, and Tav is dead and gone, cold to the touch.

Astarion is in shock. He doesn't believe it, won't believe it- he gets angry at Withers. Yells and screams until his voice his hoarse and angry hot tears are running down his face until he drops to his knees and sobs. Tav's body is on a bed or a stone slab, and he just kneels and cries next to Tav. Squeezes their hand, begs, pleads with them for you to come back. Don't take them, take me- let them live, let them stay, I can't do this without them. Halsin stays with him, by your side, the two comforting each other through their tears and the loss of their love. He cries until he's weak and tired and can't bring himself to move- Halsin feeds him and brings him to bed. He cries at the smell of you on his pillow; you were his sun and now you were gone.

Gale is quiet. Gale comforts the others, makes sure everyone else's needs are being met. He makes Tav's favourite meal that night for everyone at camp- probably something like a nice hearty stew with potatoes and beef. After he's sure everyone else is fed and has drank water/blood, he returns to his tent to eat alone. He closes his tent and quietly cries. He doesn't eat.

Wyll? Wyll carries Tav back to camp- perhaps with the help of Lae'zel. He feels how cold your skin is, and he does his best to hold it together. He sees how deep your wounds are, how blue your lips are. He's unsure if you died before you hit the water, or if you succumbed to your injuries before Halsin pulled you out- but he feels the weight in his chest. You were a hero. Baldur's Gate deserved the privilege to know your face, to hear your laughter. You would've been knighted, you would be a hero to the people. They couldn't of done it without you, and now you were gone. He knew it before they even reached Withers. Wyll didn't sleep that night, rather staying up and tending to the fire.

Shadowheart knew it too. When she tries to revivify Tav and there was nothing, she knew there was no hope. She lingered when the party started back to camp with your body. Shadowheart made her way back to the now empty house of grief and picks night orchids. She takes her time coming back. Camp is quiet when she returns. She feels the familiar wisps of sorrow grasping at the edge of her mind- she is reminded of Shar, and the urge to forget. She won't go back- both for herself and for you. She brings you the night orchids and leaves them in your hands.

Halsin pulled you from the water. He was the first to realize you hadn't surfaced and swam down for you. Minsc realized quickly too and helped him bring you back to shore. Upon the return to camp and the cold hard truth from Withers, he's hurting. His heart hurts. Halsin falls into old habits, hard. He comforts Astarion first and foremost, putting his needs second. He did this at the grove, too. He realizes this and finally breaks, crying as he holds Astarion, the two at your bedside. He lets them fall, he hugs Astarion close, he prays to Silvanus- not to bring you back- he of course knows you are gone. He prays to Silvanus to meet you someday again, be it in the afterlife or if your soul comes back to this plane as something else. When Astarion is too weak to move and needs to go to his bed, Halsin carries him back to his tent. He holds Astarion as Astarion feeds on him, before laying him down to sleep. He leaves, returning with wildflowers to weave into your hair, before returning to bed with Astarion.

Karlach rages. She's violent for hours on end- punching trees, her upgraded engine burning so hot that her tears sizzle if they fall on her skin. She spent 10 years in the hells, 10 goddamn years with absolutely no one- you were the first person to give her a chance. You were her friend. You stood up for her time and time again, you saved her from needing to go back- and now you're gone. She punches a tree and scratches at it and yells angry things in infernal. Her rage only simmers when Scratch and your owlbear cub come to her- she collapsed against the tree and holds them both, crying as her engine starts to cool.

Lae'zel is quiet. She helps Wyll carry you back- she might not be the best at reading emotions, at telling what is happening- but she's seen death before. She realized you were gone when Minsc and Halsin pulled you out. You were a hero- you saved her people, you saved her prince, you saved /her/. And now you were gone. She wonders if you felt as scared as she was, when the tadpole was the greatest threat to them back on the Nautiloid. She knows she didn't say it, but she considered you a true friend. She comes to you later in the night to lay your weapon in your hands. She notices the orchids, and leaves them within your hands as well before going to sit at the fire with Wyll. She's quiet.

Minsc? Minsc is optimistic. He's not stupid- he holds out hope you'll be fine, reassuring the others while they walk back to camp. Surely you were fine, Withers would make sure of it! But when Withers tells everyone the truth, Minsc isn't angry. He feels the sadness, Boo does too- they go to the shore and sit to stare at the water. Minsc has been around for awhile- he knows the finality of death. He, in a way, knows Tav will be okay. That you will return as a bird or a baby or maybe you won't, and you'll await them all in the final death- and he and Boo mourn you.

Jaheira is the one to arrange the coffin for Tav. She's familiar with the process- she's done it many times before for Harpers. She's gone all night getting an oak coffin for your burial, and returns with a few men in the early hours of the next morning. They move Tav into the coffin, careful not to disturb the weapon you held and the numerous flowers. Jaheira sheds tears for you- she brings you medicine, laying the plants in your casket around your head. Lilacs and lavender, cedar and sage cradle Tav's head in the coffin. She thanks you for the lives you saved, the ones you've avenged- for doing what you could.

When the funeral happens, the cathedral is full. When the dust settled and word of your deeds, of your battle, of your sacrifice spread across the city, hundreds come to mourn Tav. Tav the great, Tav the hero, Tav the brainslayer. Tav is knighted before the burial, and is buried in a cemetery in the upper city amongst other heroes of Baldur's Gate. Church bells ring, and taverns are filled with people drinking and singing in Tav's honour. Bards have somehow already come up with songs of Tav and the group- and truly, while the party will remain together, their hearts bleed for the leader they lost.

[chainsawmascara]

Figuring out where every companion fits in my Suddenly A Thing art school au doodle world is. Going to be interesting.

God's favorite princess who started it all is in general fine arts. She loves charcoal, painting feels like a necessary evil but it's secretly what she's always wanted to do.

Lae'zel is clearly in metalworking/sculpture.

Astarion is in textiles, specifically embroidering and fashion design/history. He has an entire brand built in his head. He works at an upscale fashion store part time. He judges EVERYONE.

Wyll???? Wyll's studying art history and debating going into curation. He's a trust fund kid and his father is deeply disappointed THIS is what he's doing with his college fund. He spends free time in the dark room. Darkroom photography has no place in the world these days, but he loves the classics and waxes poetic about 35mm film and its versatility - he does some oil painting over certain photos for flourish. It's phenomenal. He doesn't think it's that great. Everyone disagrees.

Gale is. Gale is the english major from the sister university who decided a double major is a good idea (it isn't, he is suffering) and hurled himself into abstract/surrealism. (It works very well in his favor when tara steps in his paint and walks on the canvas. He had a three hour anxiety attack and decided he did it on PURPOSE.

(Part of me wants to slam him into dark room photography and i will not elaborate. Maybe he sneaks in to hang out with wyll. He cannot be good at everything but he NEEDS TO BE GOOD AT EVERYTHING. He's a recurring subject of wyll's work.)

Where the FUCK do i put karlach. She's on a roller derby team outside of school. But what does she DO. She's in there somewhere but WHAT DEPARTMENT.

Dammon shares classes with Lae'zel bc that's The Most Obvious Thing. He's a natural.

Isobel? Pottery. Aylin doesn't go here. She's just The Girlfriend also on the roller derby team and hangs around.

Rolan is obviously into impressionism. He's the manet of the school, trying every artist's style in a desperate attempt to find his own despite cal and lia both knowing he HAS his own style and it's GORGEOUS but he just can't see it himself.

Alfira is also in the textile department. Astarion hates everything she makes. She plays music at local clubs on the weekends. Lakrissa is her bartender girlfriend who studies sequential art.

I need to keep this going, I'm on to something here.

But where the FUCK do i put KARLACH.

Edit: 9 fingers is the drug dealer. I went to art school, i promise you there are so many gatherings based solely around that, she'd be there constantly. Jaheira and Halsin are figure study models. Jaheira probably has her hand somewhere else in the school, she'd definitely have something to do with installation pieces, I'll get there let me cook on that one. Minsc is. Fuck. I need to figure that out. We're GOING SOMEWHERE HERE, WE'RE MAKING THIS HAPPEN.

Someone is in the jewelry department it's someone it's SOMEONE maybe lae'zel dips into it bc metal casting NO IT'S MINTHARA. MINTHARA. YES. I WILL JUSTIFY THIS WHEN IT'S NOT 2AM BUT TRUST ME IT'S MINTHARA. Intricate wire wrapping with gem stones she gets from 9 fingers, she has 5000 tools for it and no one realizes how violent whitesmithing tools are but I've BEEN THERE TRUST ME and the wire wrapping gives big spiderweb vibes, it's perfect, i love it, yes, she's in cahoots with astarion on a future design house and the bickering is CONSTANT.

[raviolirash]

Gift.

Astarion struggles finding a gift for his love.

Astarion was a great charlatan. When it was time to put on a charade, he didn't have a humble bone in his body. Bragging about being the master of everything, how everything suits him, how he is a vampire of endless talents and beauty and clever words. How he's above everything, how flowers are overrated and never make good poisons.

He couldn't even pretend to be good at... this.

They all had some downtime in-between trying to solve a murder and taking down a tyrant, just every day things. Most scattered to explore the city for the remainder of the day. The Baldurians of their party sought out friends they wanted to say hello to before the city inevitably burns down again, the wizard was trying not to faint in the giant library, Halsin was probably feeding ducks to quell the stress this cursed stone city was choking his heart with, and Lae'Zel was most likely threatening a blacksmith and making him reconsider his career choice as he no longer sees the point.

Vėlė got dragged away by her old friend for a little while, to cause some unknown trouble with a few other drow they recognized in the city. It was never a good sign.

As for Astarion? Astarion was hiding in the shadows, counting the sweat beads on the merchant not too far away who has had to deal with the vampire's malice filled glare for the past hour. The malice wasn't aimed at the merchant, just at his own situation.

Romance didn't come easy to him. It all was quite new. He was worried that he'd overdo it, that he was very frightening. Worried that he didn't do enough. Worried that he couldn't do enough. Hells. After Cazador's defeat, the pit in his brain which used to house thoughts of vengeance had to be filled with something.

In turn, he subconsciously tried nothing. The problem at hand was that he actually wanted to try. Try something that involved more than him sitting with her and talking about how he has no idea what to do. He knew the basics of romance of course. Flowers. Dinners. Trips to faraway lands. A star in the sky to look at. A song in her heart. But none of those seemed right.

So, often he turned to what he knew best: being an asshole. And so he spent the time he was thinking about his problems getting on the salesman's nerves. He was an asshole, and he was the most comfortable being one. He could do that. Assholing was his comfort zone, an asshole was who he always was.

But was it who he wanted to be?

Maybe a little bit of an asshole, a little less than who he always was, but would that be enough? He knew Vėlė loved him, but how far would she put up with his nonsense before she snapped? He almost hit that limit the night before they killed Cazador.

His thoughts were heading into a very uncomfortable direction and he put a swift stop to it. He has gotten better at doing that.

Point was, he felt like he had to try, if this was going to work. After everything. Because no one knew when the world would end.

Astarion thought about her tattoos. Small birds and flowers were the most prominent subject. Surely something she allowed to become a permanent fixture on her skin was something she really liked. On the other hand, Karlach was inked with Zariel's name all over her body. Not to mention the markings on his own back. Vėlė has only talked fondly about her tattoos, how she got them to have control over herself, so there was that.

The gods wouldn't bless him with it being simple, and stopping at that. Every damned flower and every bird had a meaning, and there was the possibility of buying her a flower that represents a reminder of something awful the spider queen did to her. Or getting her a wooden bird symbolizing a creature which eats the heads off people happily in love.

Damn. He was stuck in the stupidest impasse.

He knew what she liked and didn't like, he knew what was on her body and what wasn't. What she would like and what she wouldn't for the most part. But the damn idea of a gift made him very awkward.

Before anyone could blink, he had pilfered a book from the flower merchant and went back to the bench to read it. A book about flowers and their meanings. Huh. Looks like the merchant was a bigger sham than he was.

He skimmed over it. Anything that resembled a sussur flower was a no-go. Most of the things in the book did sound like the author wanted to maximize their profits by making things up.

Oh, how cute would it be to just simply say 'I saw this, and thought of you'. Finding a rose in a blighted place and telling her what a rare and beautiful thing she was to find amongst darkness. He had to become a bloody scholar. Averting his eyes from the endless names of flowers in the book, Astarion saw the merchant panicking as he checked every pocket of his, frantically mumbling something about a book and missing coin. He grew increasingly more and more erratic for every second that passed, with it culminating in telling a customer to hold on a minute as he went out to find a Fist.

Astarion put the book behind his back with an inconspicuous whistle. Nothing to see here.

Although, he did find some relief and camaraderie in that the merchant was a fraud. None of this helped with his problem, however. He could steal something for her, maybe? No. A stolen chain with a pretty rock felt inadequate, and by the gods they had quite enough of that already. A custom piece of jewelry wouldn't get made before the city starts burning.

Astarion pulled out the dagger she made for him, using some magic that - truthfully - he wanted to know very little about. He knows what happens to pretty men who stick their noses in Drow magic.

Nevertheless, that dagger was the catalyst for this particular catastrophe going on. Flowers just wouldn't cut it compared to this. Compared to everything she has done, really. The glowing heart on the dagger left a lovely trail in the air when the threw up the dagger to catch it again with flawless technique, then letting it dance between his fingers.

Gods, please take pity on the fool who fell in love.

Calling defeat, he sought her out. The city will actually start burning prematurely without the two being there to guide the rest of the companions. Astarion found her in the Elfsong enjoying a meal, with the other patrons as far away from her as possible and a notable smell of blood in the air which explained some things. Even with Astarion out of the Elfsong's rotation, it wasn't free of creeps. Alan couldn't complain as she paid extra for the trouble.

"Hello, my love." Astarion watched her face light up at the words as he took a seat across from her. He tossed the stolen book on the table with exhausted abandon, unfortunately catching her attention with the thud.

"What's this?" Vėlė swallowed her food and wiped her hands on a cloth before inspecting it.

"Oh, just rotten fruit of a hard day's work." He complained. "I had to humble an absolute fraud. This city needs to have standards when it comes to swindlers, honestly."

With a disappointed sigh in himself, Astarion returned to playing with the dagger. He wondered if he threw it hard enough it could hit the ceiling. Just as he was getting ready for it, he got distracted by her voice

"Lily of The Valley. Apparently it means returning to happiness." Vėlė had the book right next to her arm, comparing the the illustrations of the flower in the book to the one on her arm. "So it doesn't mean 'Corellon has pissed in a garden', after all."

Astarion huffed: "I suspect that in Lolth-ian every flower has a name that loosely translates to 'the devil known as Coronal of Arvandor is pissing somewhere'."

He thought about it some more for a moment, as her laugh echoed through the tavern. A lovely sound he couldn't get enough of. He continued. "Don't you tell me that I am that far off the mark. I think I've heard some family of tulips translated as 'Defecating on The Seldarine's feet'."

"Hey, now. It's not all about Corellon." Vėlė giggled. "I also heard the Menzoberranzan commoners call roses 'The Goddess who is singing at the moon, and is also a whore'. Lolth's words, not mine."

Vėlė continued flipping through the book, always stopping to comment when she found a flower that was also tattooed on her, her smile growing with every new discovery, and sometimes sighing in contempt when the symbolism was inaccurate.

And all the rogue could do was smile back like a love sick fool.

[alpydk]

So, I made it. 11 hours of buses, planes, and trains. 5 days of people, crowding, noises, not eating properly, not sleeping properly, but 2 of the best days of my life.

I met Tim and handed over the book. I waffled a thank you that I barely remember. The only part sticking in my head was when he told me not to focus on everyone else because I was starting to panic as he signed my CoO book. I think my brain short circuited. I had my photo with him and it went so quickly. I could barely look at him, feeling like an inconvenience but he was so polite. I squeaked a thank you. Saw him again the next day when I was calmer but again, starstruck. Gale has changed my fucking life! How do you even act around someone like that!?

Calllmmmm...

I also met Tracy (Jaheira) and had my zhent tattoo squeezed by her as she judged my life choices. Honestly she is one of the most friendly and talkative people around. We spoke about naked Jaheira when she combined the print and quote I'd chosen... (Not my intention.) And afterwards gave both me and Medra hugs. Totally unexpected. I felt full Nana confused by it all.

There was also Devorah who told me to fuck off after I told her about the mcrib in Stuttgart. She then told me she loved me and again mentioned me on her stream today so I'm a happy bunny. I wonder if she'll ever get those ribs.

I saw so many cosplays of Gale, Astarion, Jaheira, and even Lae'zel out there. There was a Patrick Bateman who looked amazing. Pyramid heads, Adas, Raphael and Mizora. Honestly so many impressive costumes. The props set up, the stages and scenes. Just the people there were so welcoming and accepting of everyone. It felt nice to just be me for a change.

It was all 100% made better though by the company. Met up with @medra-gonbites who is one of the coolest people out there. Meeting and chatting was like we'd been friends for years even though we only knew each other through Tumblr and Gale. Honestly one of the best looking Astarions at the con, and I can only say thank you for putting up with my strange mind and poor photography skills for the weekend. Thank you for not being a serial killer.

The biggest thing of all this though, is simply that I did it. On the Saturday evening we sat in a packed out auditorium watching the cosplay contest. It was loud and overwhelming and a thought hit me there of "you're not anxious, you're actually enjoying this," and it was just wow... Me, who didn't leave the house, who was having panic attacks in cars or struggling around a supermarket, travelled to another country alone, spent days crammed like a sardine in queues to see people who voiced a game I like.

I did that. Just...wtf?

But I know I didn't do it alone. It was with all the help and support of people in my life, of my beautiful souled friends here who I would do anything for, and it was with the advice of just buying that extra book to give me hope that one day I might read it.

I did it. Now I wonder, what else can I do?

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Rating BG3 Ladies Oral Game

By popular (1 anon) demand. With a bonus segment, Does She Eat Ass?

Ratings based on vibes and also facts opinions (controversial: not everyone can be a sex god).

all the main and supporting women + my background babes: Florrick, Talli, Alfira, Lakrissa, Araj, Nocturne, Skoona, Adrielle, Z'rell, Nine-Fingers, and special guest star Philomeen

*Sex is like pizza, so average results are in fact still pretty good. Only 2, 1, and 0/10 are truly trash head. So a 5 or 6 is still a compliment!*

Lae'zel: 10/10. Her appetite is voracious. Her will is steel, and her tongue is silver. As a lifelong try-hard, Lae'zel can't settle for anything less than stellar, and eating out is no exception. She can be a bit too clinical with it at the start, but once her heart is freed from its stone prison, her sensuality comes pouring out her lips and tongue.

Shadowheart: 9/10. This is her wheelhouse. This is what she's been up to for the last 30 years. She loses a point because her brand of teasing and/or being coy occasionally doesn't translate; there's a difference between a slow burn and letting a lover go cold, and she can slip up sometimes and forget she's pleasuring, not torturing. But overall? Who knew such a delicate touch could make you come apart like that.

Karlach: 11/10. She's a natural, and she's ravenous. For touch. For affection. To please, to be good. She tunes all the way in. No notes. She's all up in and/or on that thang, front, back, side to side, not a drop left when she's done with it. The most finesse? No, but a hammer doesn't need frills and lace to knock in a nail.

Minthara: 12/10. Even better than her stroke game. It feeds her ego like no other, and what feeds Minthara's ego is also good for her lover. Dominant even when giving head, and she puts that nose and chin to werk. You're done when she's done, not the other way around. Eats 110% of it, leaves no crumbs.

Jaheira: 6/10. Frankly, Jaheira is just not that horny and so, while her skills are well-honed, she just doesn't have that killer instinct to catapult her into higher tiers. She's too busy to spend two hours between someone's legs, so she aims to get it done nice and quick, but thorough. She's no quitter, after all, and her dedication to the goal is unshakeable.

Isobel: 8/10. A little too much of a tease for anyone who's not an edging enthusiast, but she puts her money where her mouth is. She's incredibly in-tuned with a partner, so once she's zoned in, she's got it locked down. Her focus is unbreakable. Doesn't have the most stamina, but she more than knows how to make up for it. You don't need hours and hours for Isobel to take you apart.

Aylin: 7/10 or 100/10 IF her face is being sat on. My controversial take for this post. But I think that while Aylin's tongue is GOATed and she loves pleasing her partner, it's just an act that isn't enough for her. She wants to touch, feel, suck, lick, caress, tease it all, not just a fraction of her beloved. Her hands and tongue wander. She flits around, sampling it all. Keeping her in that one place, on-task, can require some input from her partner, so they can't quite relax all the way and melt under her. This is where the face-sitting specification comes in. Surrounded so, held down (even by someone MUCH smaller), being taken as much as she gives--------- that's where she really shines.

Mizora: -100/10. Again... get real.

Orin: 5/10. She is a rolling stone. She is a whimsical sort. Eating out requires focus that she certainly has, but can she employ it on a dependable enough basis? She can also get too artful with it. Sometimes A->B is the right path and you don't need to murder someone and stash their corpse in an abandoned one-room house inbetween licks, ya know?

Florrick: 9/10. Look at that profile. That nose. That chin. Those lips. Observe her delusional confidence, her endless fidelity, her relentless pursuit of her goals. Did you feel that tremble? It was your [preferred genital word]. She comes home from a long day of bossing people around and serving the greater good, ready to pamper someone, to serve herself, and she's hungry. Her only downside is that she can be a bit efficient with it; it takes her time to warm up emotionally, and not treat you like just another item on her to-do list.

Talli: 8/10. Happy to be of service, always. A very thorough, straightforward, good-game-giving mouth. Lacks creativity, but completely consistent, reliable, and (if desired) romantic.

Alfira: 8/10. A little clumsy, a little distractible, but you can't beat the dedication. Amazing breath-holding capacity. Unlike some other be-fanged women, she loves her teeth and knows how to deploy them. She keeps ya guessing, which does have a few negatives, but overall? More than makes up for her complete lack of stroke game.

Lakrissa: 6/10. She talks a big bigger game than she actually has, surprisingly. She's a little too restless, a little too fidgety. She likes to use more of her body than she can while going down, so it's kind or boring for her tbh. She likes the taste and the emotional/mental experience for herself, more than she likes actually doing it. But for her love? Anything. She'll sit down there for hours if need be.

Araj: 2/10. The future Matron Mother of the Restored House Oblodra does not get on her knees. You try to tell her that there are many other options, but she doesn't listen. Only goes down when she's trying to steal your secretions for her alchemy. It's not worth it.

Nocturne: 7/10. Like Shadowheart, she had to be entertaining herself somehow for all the decades in the cloister so her skills are above average. But she's a little more submissive, and tends to pigeonhole herself; she can't quite pull off a toppy tongue sesh. If she's not on her knees, she doesn't quite know how to do it. Certified biter, interested in the intersection between pleasure and pain.

Skoona: 7/10. A little self-conscious of her tusks, but she's always found the act romantic and fulfilling. Likes to hold hands during.

Adrielle: 3/10. She's a little self-conscious, a little too intimidated. A little too desperate to be good. In one's own head is the worst place to be when trying to go down on someone, and that's where she is. Will get you there, but hardly a world-shaking experience.

Z'rell: 1 Billion/10. Look, it's still not for YOU, but in case you were wondering: at least 17 someones out there are getting it ATE. Front, back, side to side, axes that don't even exist in our plane. You're missing out. Pathetic.

Nine-Fingers: 7/10. Makes your legs shake, but can be a little too intense. She can come on too strong. She can make it feel like a competition, or like there's something else on her mind that's not you. Keeping her engaged is a You problem, but if you can? Very good.

Philomeen: ?/10. She does not go down, ever; she's made that mistake before long ago (making the hoes think she cares about them) and she's nawt gonna make it again!!

In addition: Does she eat ass?

Eats ass completely unprompted: Lae'zel, Minthara, Orin, Z'rell Offers to eat ass: Shadowheart, Karlach, Aylin, Florrick, Nocturne Eats ass if asked: Jaheira, Isobel, Lakrissa, Nine-Fingers Considers it, but decides eating ass isn't for her: Alfira, Talli, Skoona Definitely doesn't eat ass: Mizora, Araj, Adrielle, Philomeen

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Distances Melded (Part 5)

18+ implied drug use (Tav smoking the slutweed babey), edging, restraint, merciless teasing, oral (m!), p-in-v, sub/dom if you squint, tenderness

Astarion X F! Plus Sized Tav

listening to: Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier, We're In Love - boygenius

-

He was discovering more and more surprises about his lover.

One late night, after a particularly dreary and painfully boring quest Halsin made a rather interesting offer.

"It'll help us.. relax. Feel more in tune with the world, you know."

"Relaxing herbs..." Shadowheart said, her tone dubious.

"Drugs, yes." Lae'zel said flatly.

"Thank you, Lae'zel."

"Well, I'm going to bed."

"No one asked, Gale."

Halsin began packing his pipe, unbothered. "Well I'll be partaking, if any of you feel like joining in dont be afraid to-"

"I'll have some, sure."

Everyone looked at Tav with shock.

"What? I'm not allowed to unwind?" She raised her eyebrows playfully, sending a wink to Astarion.

"Our fearless leader? Imbibing in substances?Well, well, well..." She wiggled her eyebrows at him with a wide smile. Gods he adored her.

Within an hour those who had stayed were all laying around the fire like house cats. Seems they weren't so resistant after all, Astarion thought, unimpressed.

He found Tav particularly.. distracting. The herbs had made her languid and sensual. Stretching her lower back, arms out in front of her. That delectable line of her hip creasing, the roundness of her ass on full display. She leaned back and flopped over into his lap.

The others were too busy with their own experience to notice her but it almost made him blush.

She stared up at him, a relaxed smile splitting her face. "Hey there, lovely." Reaching up to play with the ties of his tunic.

"And how are you feeling?" He said, smirking. His hand unconsciously trailing through her hair.

She pushed into his hand. A small moan leaving her at his touch.

"Good, really good." She purred, pulling his hand to her mouth, nipping at it a bit. Giving him a mischievous smile. Gods she would be the death of him.

She threw her hands above her head and stretched again, arching her back deliciously over him. Letting out a little relaxed whine.

"Darling, you seem rather tired." He coaxed, mouth dry. "Would you like to retire to my quarters? You can use my tent for the night."

"Oh can I?" She said eyes sliding over to him, arms still above her head, bringing her legs up into a cheeky curl. Teasing him. "That's awfully nice of you." Her eyes lidding, a cat with a saucer of milk.

He had never seen her so haughty and it was making him crazy. "You little viper," He said so low that only she could hear. She bit her lip at him, smiling.

He stood up, quicker than he meant to, taking her hand and leading her away. She practically skipped behind him, giggling. "Uh-oh.. I'm in trouble~" She sing-songed.

He only made it as far as a distant tree until he was pushing her against the bark. She moaned into his mouth.

Looping both of her legs around his thighs she pulled, forcing him off balance to press his hips into her.

"Oh you've got tricks, do you?" He said low into her ear, heard her giggle and took the chance to nip at his lobe. He groaned, Gods how did she know his weaknesses already.

She took his chin in her hand, immobilizing him as her mouth was still trained on his ear. Pushed her hand up his shirt, brushing her fingers over his nipples. He whined, trying not to grind into her. Fuck.

She pulled back, a wicked smile on her lips. Her eyes lidded and knowing only made him feel hazier.

She moved her thumb to his lips, still holding his chin in the same hand. Slowly drug it back and forth across his bottom lip, asking for entrance. He opened his mouth and she slid it in, dragging it hard along his fang. Drawing blood.

He moaned, tongue working. Already lapping up the rivulets that poured out. Her heady taste overwhelming.

She cocked her head to the side, a satisfied smile on her flushed face. "So hungry," She breathed.

Her thumb still in his mouth she snaked her hand down his front, her hand palming him over his clothes.

His eyes hitched back in his head, could already feel himself straining hard. The realization that they were still out in the open only making it worse.

Her mouth found his neck, nipping and licking. Her hand moving so slowly, sliding up and down his length over his leathers, applying pressure.

Strong legs still hooked around his he had nowhere to go, he was at her mercy. The realization making him shiver, bracing his forearms next to her head against the tree.

Blind with lust he began grinding into her hand. She pulled away in response and he resisted whining. Her fingers slipping teasingly along the inside lining of his leathers, the backs caressing the sensitive skin there.

He didnt know how much more of her heavenly torture he could take.

She pulled her thumb out of his mouth with a wet pop, hand resting on his clavicle. Still teasing the sensitive skin of his pelvis. Fingers oh so gently wrapping around his throat.

"Astarion," She said, as if in thought. "I've realized that I've been the only one to have gotten off between us."

"Have you now?" He tried for suave but he couldn't hide the pant in his voice.

That cat smile. "Would you want me to rectify that, my perfect Star?" She said low in his ear. He felt her hand loosen, her legs released him slightly. An offer to stop.

He was on fire, pushing her hands above her head, holding them there in one hand. She smiled and squirmed beneath him cheekily.

"Not here," He breathed, hot with need.

In one motion he leaned down and caught her waist on his shoulder, flipping her onto his back. Her wrists still trapped in his hand. She squealed in delight as he braced her waist with the other.

He walked as fast as his long legs would take them, pushing open the entrance to his tent.

"In such a rush, are we?" She admonished, hot into his ear. The herbs were making her so much more vocal and it was making him wild.

"My sweet, you're playing with fire," He warned, she shook her ass in response. Incorrigible.

He threw her down on the cushions on his bedroll, pulling his tunic off. Her hand drifted under her own, pulling it up just high enough that he could see the underside of her breasts. Her other hand slipping into her leggings, the outline of her fingers working.

"Tell me what you want." She whispered.

He crawled down to her, kissing on the exposed skin of her stomach. He never got used to her considering of him, what he desired. Through the thick haze of his lust he felt his heart flutter.

"I.. need to be inside you, sweet girl." He murmured into her skin, surprising himself. Gaining in his sureness, "I've waited for you. For this."

He saw her eyes soften, pulling his face up to hers. "If it becomes too much I want us to stop, okay? You'll tell me?" She whispered to him.

He nodded, kissing her deeply. She sighed into the kiss, leg hooking around him. Pulling him up to her. His hand slid over her mound, thumb making lazy circles. Her breath hitched and she reached for the ties in his leathers, her need rising again.

She held onto them as if to untie, then pushed his hips causing him to fall back, knees bent. Right into her trap. He gasped and his breath hitched into a groan as her hand quickly slid inside his trousers. Mouth meeting his stomach, licking hungry strokes up the lines of his hips. He shivered and threw his head back, already feeling the wetness of precum in his small clothes.

He was not going to last long at this rate.

His hands made quick work of the ties and he was blissfully free. She smiled at the length of him, finger trailing up the vein he already knew was throbbing.

With no warning she took him entirely into her mouth, tongue working. He gasped and braced himself against her shoulder, gripping hard. One hand behind him, barely holding him up.

She was making lewd sounds, groaning and slurping. He thought he was going to go mad.

Oh Gods he was already close. She pulled back as if sensing this and shimmied down her leggings. He pulled them the rest of the way off with more force than he intended. "What a gentleman," She purred.

The words made his head spin. He pulled her onto his lap, sitting in a kneeling position. She looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him deeply, sliding her core back and forth against him. He gripped her thighs and helped her onto him, letting her weight down slowly. She hissed out a moan into his ear as he filled her. Her body adjusting to him. He groaned, his eyes rolling slightly at the molten pressure around him.

They stayed still for a moment, their joined breathing. Then she planted her feet.

Slowly she rose and fell, rolling her hips.

He looped an arm around her back, pulling her closer. Nuzzling his mouth into the crook of her neck, silencing himself there. Her smell intoxicating.

She leaned her head back as she rode him, all slick inside her. She felt like velvet, like heaven, his eyelids fluttering as she picked up speed.

Tight breaths left his lips as his undoing approached, eyes screwing shut in concentration. She smiled diabolically, grinding down harder. Suddenly grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back taut. Her voice low in his ear as he gasped raggedly.

"I want you to come. Now."

Blinding white light behind his eyes. Gripping onto her back he strangled out a cry, her hips still rising and falling into him. Shaking and whimpering, his face crumpled in near painful ecstasy.

She held her wrist to his mouth and eyes wide, he sank into her. The blood bringing him to new heights. Uncontrolled he bucked his hips, her wrist flesh muffling the high moan that left him. Mercifully her hips started to slow, the overstimulation making his eyes water.

She smiled fondly at him, straddling him. Still buried inside her as he drank. The spreading warmth of her blood mixed with his comedown, a delicious exhaustion overtaking him.

He fell back, hand holding her wrist to his mouth. She came down with him, laying on her side. Her free hand drawing designs on his stomach as he licked at the wound. "How do you feel?" She whispered.

He looked over at her, eyes wide. "I cant even begin to describe it." He panted. "You've killed me, blessed me. Thank you, thank you." He turned and buried his face into her neck, holding her tightly. His body still trembling.

She smiled, wrapping herself around him. Planting kisses all down the side of his neck.

Laying in the gentle haze of morning, Astarion looked over his lover.

Adored how she slept, all limbs and abandon. Flat on her back, still bare to him she breathed low and steady. He had been melded into her blissfully but had pulled back. Taking an indulgent moment to fully take her in, the wild beauty of her.

The hooked curve of her nose, the elegant slant to her eyes, the height of her cheekbones. The waves and waves of her ebony hair. So thick, she always complained, pulling it away from her overheated neck. Lips dark and flushed, the way they would purse when she was trying to hold back a smile.

She was of the heavens, of the sweet dark.

In the growing light his eyes drank her, words failing him. Knew no words would be enough. Scooped her up into his lap and held her as close as he could.

~

Part 6

[blackjackkent]

All right - resuming Rakha's playthrough, but kicking it off with a non-Rakha drabble this time. Because I've realized that there's one distinct benefit of the fact that Rakha is allying with the Emperor - it allows me to give a very specific and legitimate reason why Lae'zel might let her guard down enough to be captured by Orin. >:)

-----

Lae'zel growls, pressing the edge of her blade fiercely into the surface of the whetstone. Restless agitation fills her, frustration and - yes, anger too, much as she hates to admit it. The party's encounter with Raphael in Sharess's Caress plays over and over in her mind. 

The devil offered them a way forward, a path to rescuing Prince Orpheus - the Orphic Hammer. In trade, he asks for the Crown of Karsus, the device that keeps the ghaik elder brain in check. A reasonable trade, Lae'zel thinks… but Rakha rejected it.

The anger flares in her abruptly. How dare she? Rakha knows how important Orpheus is to her - to all of the githyanki people! And yet she rejected this path forward, turned away from Raphael and all that he offered. 

After all I have done for her! Lae'zel seethes, her young mind afire with the unfairness of it. Has she not stood watch at Rakha's bedside in the darkest hours of the night? Bared her sword on Rakha's behalf against a thousand enemies? Loved Rakha without reward or recompense in spite of the beast that lives in her? 

And in return, she is tossed aside while Rakha's affections stay with Wyll, and Minthara, and the cursed ghaik that lives within the Astral Prism.

It isn't fair. And it is not right. And there is no other choice - she will do what must be done herself, if Rakha will not.

No one else in camp is watching. Most are already asleep for the night. Rakha is, as always, consumed with her own torments. There will not be a better time, and the decision is made; she cannot allow herself to waste time agonizing over it.

She clips the sword to her back, hefts her pack over one shoulder, slips out the edge of the camp through the rotted buildings beyond. She does not know where she will go, how she will begin to find the House of Hope on her own - but honor demands that she must try, no matter how much it rips out her heart to leave Rakha's company.

A voice greets her out of the dark.

"Lae'zel of K'liir. T'lak'ma Ghir - my sister."

Lae'zel's eyes widen. "Jhe'stil Kithrak," she says respectfully. "I did not know you had come--"

"Quickly, child," he says, ignoring her words completely. "There is no time. We must find the House, we must seek the Hammer, for certainly your companion will not."

"Yes. Yes!" Relief floods Lae'zel, that she will not face this task alone after all. "I am at your service. Say where my blade will strike."

"Come--" he repeats urgently. With a gesture he draws her forward, into the shadows, out of view of the camp. "Come away... and the wheels shall be put into motion."

Something in his voice shifts as he speaks the final words. As she turns to move past him, to fall into step, his hand closes on her shoulder, and his grip is like sudden iron. She grunts involuntarily with pain. "What--"

"Good. Good. Such easy prey in the end," he murmurs - and as he speaks now, his voice shifts upward in pitch, twisting, turning, and she can feel the way his fingers lengthen against her back.

She realizes what is happening only a half-second too late; she starts to turn and then a blow catches her at the base of her neck and her whole body goes numb. Slowly, majestically, like a great tree felled from its base, she pitches over and lands facedown in the dew-damp grass.

She hears Orin's maniacal giggle from somewhere above her, and the trotting footsteps of two or three others circling around her. More long-fingered hands grasp at her shoulders and begin to drag her through the mud like a sack of meat.

"Such a tender morsel," Orin purrs from behind her. "Its broken heart blinded it... but now it shall see, and see, and scream, and SCREAM... yes, we shall play an excellent game, little flesh-bit, but all in good time. First, I have need of your face..."

Lae'zel tries to scream, to cry out, to warn the others before she is dragged out of range-- but her tongue is frozen in her mouth. The bitter realization runs like ice through her. I am a fool, she thinks, rage flooding her immobilized body. Duped like a child, all my faith and duty used against me.

And Rakha will pay for it. She believed what she was doing was right, but the fact remains - blinded with anger, she turned away from her companions with disloyalty in her heart, and now Rakha will pay the price. Perhaps, indeed, Rakha will die and believe that it was Lae'zel who struck the blow.

No. No. NO NO NO NO NO NO--

She is almost grateful when one of the doppelgangers strikes another blow and unconsciousness swallows her.

[ruushes]

Since you said you liked talking about it, I’d love to hear more about Nox’s dynamic with all the companions/their dynamics with each other!

☺️☺️☺️🥰🥰🥰💕💕💕

sorry this took so long! i wrote Literally So Much Text that mostly wasn't even relevant and was finally was like hmm maybe i ought to trim this down a bit lmao. THANK YOU for asking!!! 😭😭🙏

Lae'zel - strong competing personalities but with underlying shared respect. intensely pious kingsguard for court jester type relationship. she gets them to take things more seriously and they bring out her curious side. disagreements get heated. they sell their soul for her. connection over being born a weapon, losing everything, grief for a version of yourself that can never be.

Shadowheart - meangirl for meangirl relationship. strong foundation of trust. learning to confide in one another vulnerabilities they’d otherwise hide but still hiding from each other sometimes. connection over loss of memory and building a new identity from what remains. rejecting the god that defined their entire lives besties. they give each other their identity crisis haircuts.

Karlach - maybe the most conflicted dynamic? personality-wise they’re house on fire but the chaotic good in karlach struggles with the chaotic just-recently-bumped-from-evil-into-neutral-by-head-trauma in nox. she can fix them (maybe). undertones of denial and desperation. fun-loving when they’re not driving each other insane. fire for matches sort of relationship.

Wyll - shared love of adventure and flair for the dramatic. connection over losses of freedom and autonomy. they help him find a little constructive selfishness and he shows them that selflessness can be rewarding sometimes. person who gives too much and person who takes too much struggling to find balance. deeply earnest guy who gave himself a superhero name for lying fake bitch who also gave themself a superhero name relationship.

Gale - connection over loss of ability, the frustrations of recovery, chronic pain. mildly dictatorial president of the chess club for delinquent class clown relationship. shared love of talking for literal hours. his frank and honest approach to discussing emotions scares the shit out of them. both swing wildly between feeling like the best and the worst and when they're in the same state it’s dangerous.

Astarion - both feeling seen, understood, and accepted at their most monstrous. messy. two people feeling their way forward in the dark and sometimes stumbling. would make a potent evil power couple if they weren’t both innately a little goofy and making each other even goofier. connection over compulsive violence, sexual trauma, dehumanization by a cruel master. learning how to be a person again together. spawn for spawn relationship.

[beesxrated]

A Noble Exercise

Tav x Wyll wedding with some spice. 🪻

The wedding starts out with an orange sun just above the horizon. The house is buzzing with energy and excitement. You never get to catch a glimpse or hear anything about Wyll. As all of the preparations begin getting finished your palms start to sweat. After all your time fighting the cultists and your years in Avernus this is the most nervous you've been. All that time you had several friends and allies who knew exactly what you were going through and may have been going through the same. Now, however, it's just you and Wyll. Some of your friends are still by your side, but none of them are married, let alone in a long term relationship.

The long flowing sleeves of your dress begin to frustrate you as you try to keep your hands busy. You angrily throw the train over your shoulder and push the fabric up. You would be more comfortable getting married in your armor. Karlach bursts through the door at the perfect time. You were just about to change into your usual armor.

She grabs you with tears in her eyes, "You look so beautiful."

Her hug is extremely tight and you can't manage any words. When she finally releases you she sees how distraught you are. She immediately goes into Momma K mode. She brushes your hair and puts it out of your face. She tells you all the things she's heard about Wyll getting ready and how nervous everyone is saying he is. Hearing how Wyll is as nervous as you are, makes you feel a little less scared.

When the time comes you make your way down the aisle. Halsin agreed to marry the two of you. Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard agreed to walk you down to Wyll, seeing as you had no family left. Gale, Minsc, and Lae'zel stand next to Wyll. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion stand on the other side.

When you pictured your wedding growing up, you never imagined a vampire or githyanki being your most important people, let alone marrying a well-known folk hero. You'd always pictured a comment that had smitten you, made you feel as though you were some sort of noble. Wyll thought writing vows to each other would be more personal and fit the life you have and will continue to lead. It's another thing you never thought about when you were younger.

When Halsin finally reaches the vows it's your turn first, "I promise to dream with you, to build a family with you and to encourage you. I admire you. Simply because of your kind soul, tender heart, and positive mindset. I especially appreciate your endearing sense of humor. I am ever so grateful for your love and selflessness. In return, I offer these promises. I promise to always be your perfect dancing partner."

"Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. Falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter. Your youth may fade away, but your smile will always remind me of that time I first saw you in the moonlight at the teifling party." Wyll says it all so effortlessly. He somehow pours the love he has for you into every word.

The rest of the ceremony and kiss feels rushed and it begins to make your head spin. The party is about to begin and you have barely been able to sit down. The moment your lips parted everyone was pushed to the ballroom. You see the sun is just an hour above the horizon. Has the day really been that fast?

You and Wyll dance and meet all the guests, many of whom he knew growing up. The two of you barely have time to talk with lines waiting to congratulate you when you take a break from the dancing. Wyll's hand stays interlocked with yours and squeezes when he notices how tired you are.

When the party is finally over the moon is almost at its peak in the sky. You make your way to your room, Wyll follows close behind. You turn to him and he shuts the door quickly behind him. As he begins to strip you give him a pointed look. It's been a long day, you haven't been planning on any sort of extra curricular activity.

Once he gets down to his undergarments he sighs and flops onto the bed, "Do you need help with your dress?"

"Yes, I just..." You drop your arms to your side, "I don't have the energy to do... Anything..."

He jumps up and begins unlacing your dress, "I was not looking for sex if that's what you mean. It's been too long of a day. I just want to hold you, make you feel less stressed." He pulls the dress off your shoulders and falls to the floor, "I am happy to wait for morning, or however long it takes."

Wyll pulls you down to the bed and holds you close to his chest. With little effort the two of you fall asleep. In the morning you feel more refreshed and rested. Wyll is awake next to you, reading a book. You shuffle over and lay on his chest.

"Good morning, myn lykyng." Wyll smiles down at you.

You lean up and kiss him. As you try to pull away he follows you. His hand cups your face as he attempts to place the half read book on the table. But when you hear a loud thud you know he's missed. He follows you all the way onto your back. The tension between the two of you begins to grow as he kisses you deeply, placing his hips between your legs.

He pulls away quickly, "Is this okay?"

You nod before pulling his lips back to yours. The two of you agreed to doing nothing physical for three months before the wedding. It was hard, but it's not like you actually had sex with each other. You touched and that was about it. Not from lack of trying, but in the Hells simply touching was hot enough.

He pulls away and rips the remaining clothes you had on, off. His lips feel as hot as the Hells as they make their way down your stomach. His tongue pushes into you, his nose grazing your clit. He seems surprisingly good since he'd never done it before.

He begins to slow his movements and pulls away, "Is that good?"

"Yes." You laugh as he gets back to it.

You grip his horns to guide him to the right movements. He's a fast learner and soon you're holding on for your sanity. He pulls away for a few moments, kissing your thighs. His teeth graze your skin. He continues kissing your tights and up to your hips, causing you to beg.

"Wyll." You moan and try to redirect his head using his horns, "Please."

He smiles into your hip bone before plunging back between your legs. You see him moving more than he was before and he groans into you. You pull at his horns asking for more friction. Wyll pulls his face away and climbs you. He rubs against you, letting you feel how aroused he is through his underwear.

He drags a hand down his face quickly, places a kiss on your lips, and pulls off his underwear. You admire him kneeling in front of you before he pushes himself forward. It's slow and slightly painful as you get used to him. When you finally start taking pleasure from him he quickens his pace and strengthens his thrusts.

Wyll keeps his lips locked with yours as it all comes way too quickly to an end. He pulses inside you and you feel shaky under him. He holds himself above you, not wanting to collapse and hurt you, he slowly falls onto the bed next to you.

Wyll breaks the silence, "I like when you grab my horns."

"Oh?" You smile at him, never expecting him to enjoy that.

"I don't know how to explain it. It feels nice."

You reach over and stroke the smooth horn. He shivers at the touch. You wish you would've known before, it seems like a good way to tease him or even give him some sort of pleasure while he pleases you. You let your hand fall down and brush his hair from his face. He's let his hair grow out and curl. The curls extenuate his horns and for some reason you find it very attractive. In fact the aging he has done in the past few years has made him far more attractive to you. Nothing looks bad on him.

[bl3ss3dbyt1amat]

OC ASK THINGIE!! tagged by @tadpole-apocalypse

name: malas!! (formerly "of the bhaal temple", currently "of... my house?" he doesnt get it at all but hes got the spirit)

nickname(s): mal (astarion), arthax dus (by lae'zel, roughly translates to "utter moron" in draconic. theyre besties trust), evae (astarion, tranlsates to "love" in elvish), dragonbro (karlach), bhaalbud (wyll and karlach)

pronouns: he/him very loosely. sometimes he just drops shit like "i wish i were a girl" and everyone in the party has to deal with that for a second before moving on.

star sign: i would imagine capricorn with maybe something in cancer? hes a very responsible "big brother" quiet type but can absolutely be emotional. just like. in private. and then he immediately pretends like nothing happened. IM SORRY IM OVERTHINKING

height: 7'0 (okay last tangent but ironically i was actually working on a drawing of all the companions with my height and body type companions for them. so this was something i was very prepared for)

orientation: gay and asexual!! (he doesnt MIND sex and was totally chill with being intimate with astarion on the grave and shit, he just also doesnt really seek it out or desire it. ALSO i feel like he probably had a phase where he dated girls and kept trying to convince people/himself he wasnt gay)

race: white dragonborn! though in my head hes more of like. a hunk of bhaal's flesh in the vague shape of a white dragonborn. i think actual dragonborn might get an uncanny valley vibe from him if they look at him too long

romancing: astarion :DDDD

fave fruit: im really amused by the idea of this big hulking dragon guy very delicately picking some razzberries or blackberries to eat. so im gonna go with that (someone remind me to draw that later!!)

fave season: winter probably! i like to think that he absolutely thrives in the cold, being (sort of) a white dragonborn

fave flower: canada thistle! technically not a flower but a weed. i have a headcanon that poor malas just destroys every single plant he even considers going near. canada thistle is a very hard to get rid of weed, so i think he would be delighted to find a "flower" that could put up with his creepy death vibes

fave scent: this is gonna sound so weird but like? cooked meat? and rice and that sort of thing. the smell of a home cooked meal is the general vibe (i dont feel like the bhaal temple was super hospitable when it came to making nice food? malas loses his memory and is like "i dont know why but i feel like i prefer this curry so strongly to like. human fingers")

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: secret third thing called i think malas would be indecisive and slowly drink all of them. like back to back. over the span of an hour to try in avoid anyone catching on (astarion is so onto him)

average sleep hours: i think it really depends on the day. like 4-6 days out of the week hes too paranoid and restless to sleep at all/more than like 2 hours a night (concerning all of the elves in the party who can absolutely hear him). and then the other days of the week hes so stressed from questing and staying up the previous nights he just storms into camp and sleeps from then until he is forced out of bed

dogs or cats: dogs but more accurately worgs and owlbears. i feel like he just wants a pet thats also a bit of a feral sweetheart. also big fluffy guy you can ride!! whats not to love?? malas is probably one of those guys who inexplicably gets every cat ever to hate him within seconds of meeting them. and is also probably very upset by this

dream trip: LITERALLY ANYWHERE! malas just wants to see all the shit hes never seen before/doesnt remember. ideally after finding a way for astarion to walk in the sun.

amount of blankets: i think probably none to maybe one or a sheet? hes probably overheating for most of the game, being meant for colder climates and junk

random fact(s): - as bhaal's chosen, malas was much more into the preaching aspect of things. he would still probably be a good preacher if he worshipped any gods - malas can speak draconic as well as a bit of undercommon and deep speech. i feel like he had to like. hear people talk in these languages to even remember he spoke them post-amnesia though - that comic about malas having a giant journal full of everyones bullshit wasnt a joke. hes got a scrapbook full of quests, stickynotes, drawings, diary-type entries, and probably a good few mental breakdowns - this is more of a headcanon abt dragonborns in general but i think hes got a little hoard of pretty doo-dads.

(im so sorry if the images made this unreadable it looks fine to me on computer??? i dont know how to make them smaller either sob) IVE NEVER DONE A TAG THING SO I HOPE ITS NOT JUST SUPPOSED TO BE MUTUALS MOSTLY CAUSE I HAVE TWO ONE OF WHICH TAGGED ME ORIGINALLY tagging @venusmage @mooreaux @grandmother-goblin (i wish i had seen this tav when i did my tav appreciation post!! so cool!!) @ppilotco (AGAIN WISH I HAD SEEN THEM SOONER) @divorcedwife ANDD UUHH everyone else ever forever praying i did this right

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 3

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: Cas comes to Astarion's tent in the middle of the night. Although she claimed that her intentions were purely innocent, Astarion could read between the lines,

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Tags: Kissing, nudity, heavy petting, they almost get caught, Lae'zel is the best wingwoman.

Not an hour had passed since Gale had lectured Cas about the ‘dangers of trusting a vampire’ when she showed up at Astarion’s tent with a bottle of wine in hand and a shy smile on her lips. Astarion welcomed her in without a second thought.

If he wanted to get her on his side, he needed to make it worth her while. And he only knew of one way to do that.

“Figured I owed you a bottle since you shared last night,” Cas said as she passed him the unopened wine.

The label on the bottle told him it was a Merlot from a vintner outside of Waterdeep. Something that Cazador would have served at parties, so it was undoubtedly better than the swill he and Cas had shared the previous night. Cas likely swiped it from the toll house where those fake paladins had been holed up, but Astarion didn’t really care about the origins as much as the gesture.

Only Cas would let a vampire drink her blood and think she needed to repay him for half a bottle of admittedly terrible wine with a bottle of the good stuff. Though the gift was decidedly unnecessary, he wasn’t about to turn it down.

“Coming to my tent with a bottle of wine in the middle of the night.” He gave her a feline-like grin as he shifted over to make room in his tent, leaving the invitation to join him unspoken. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

A delightful laugh passed her pretty lips. “Would you like me to?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes, leaving it up to him to decide whether or not she was joking. Throwing the ball in his court, so to speak. But before he could decide how to volley it back to her, she settled in beside him on the bedroll. “But that’s not my intention, no.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, lowering his voice to have a sultry edge to it. “Because I really wouldn’t mind. You’re quite the catch, you know.”

“Stop it,” she said with a smile. “You’ll make me blush.”

“Oh, I hope I do,” he said, returning her smile even as his walls went up, separating any real feeling from his words. “I bet you’d look so lovely with your cheeks all flush. Even lovelier than the sound of my name from your lips.”

Color flooded her face and she gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Astarion,” she scolded with mock irritation. Then as if she had just realized what had happened, she dropped head into her hands and dissolved into bashful giggles. Instead of making any attempt to save face, she just asked him to open the bottle of wine.

For some reason, a hairline fracture cracked the walls he had just put up. Minuscule and insignificant, but definitely present. It happened sometimes, but it always resolved itself.

But she really was cute.

Knowing better than to push his luck at the moment, he uncorked the wine. Like the night before, they took turns drinking directly from the bottle since Astarion didn’t keep any goblets in his tent.

Unlike the night before, the hesitation and awkwardness between them was almost completely gone. Though there was not much room in his tent, there was enough that they could both lie down comfortably enough. Every movement came with the lightest brush of their limbs, but it seemed mostly unintentional on Cas’s part.

Something unspoken had changed between them. Astarion couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could tell Cas felt it too.

The air between them was calmer, more comfortable. Like they were old friends rather than new acquaintances. Perhaps it was just because his secret was out and she had accepted him despite it. Or perhaps it was that intimate moment they shared. Her on his lap and his mouth against her throat, cloaked in moonlight as they shared a new experience together.

Astarion’s chest tightened, and he got a sickening feeling that it was something more than her sharing her blood.

No matter. How he felt wasn’t important. What was important was endearing himself to her. He needed to ensure his continued protection, and dwelling on his feelings would do nothing on that front.

He shifted onto his side and Cas’s gaze followed the movement. Dark brown eyes dipped from his face to the sliver of skin exposed by the v of his shirt. Then she took a sip of wine and looked away.

“Is this going to become a regular thing between us?” Astarion asked, letting his eyes drift over her body and making no move to hide it.

Cas’s copper skin glowed in the dim lantern light as she shrugged. “It can if you want it to,” she replied. “Of course, if you want me to leave you alone — ”

“— if I wanted you to leave me alone I would have kicked you out already, darling.” Astarion gently prodded her leg with his foot for emphasis, but didn’t withdraw his touch. Just to see what would happen.

Taking a sip of wine, she nonchalantly pinned his foot beneath her shin. “Good. I’ve been enjoying our conversations.”

“As have I,” he said and carefully pried the bottle from her hand and set it down where it wouldn’t get between them, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to doing things other than just talking and drinking wine.”

“I’m not sure about that,” she said and pointed to the bruise on her neck. “I’m still sore from the last time we did ‘other things.’”

Astarion tsked. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone he spent an evening with woke up sore. Granted, those people had entirely different reasons.

Carefully, he brushed Cas’s hair behind her ear and frowned at the bite mark with faux concern. “You poor dear,” he cooed as he let his fingers trail down the unmarked side of her neck, her skin prickling in the wake of his touch. “Perhaps I can make it up to you. Make you feel better, so to speak.” His voice lowered seemingly of his own volition. “How does that sound, my dear?”

“You don’t need to make it up to me,” Cas replied, her voice no more than a whisper. Her eyes dropped to his lips, telling him everything that her words did not.

He could hear her pulse in his ears, pounding faster than before, excited. Wanting more than just a delicate touch, wanting what he was promising: pleasure. Her pupils were blown wide in the dim lantern light as her gaze flickered between his eyes and his lips.

Too easy.

“You say that, but….” Astarion held her chin and tilted her face closer to his. He brushed his thumb across her lower lip, her breath hot against his skin. “May I?”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she reiterated even as she leaned into his touch.

“But what if I want to do this anyway?”

For a long second, she held his gaze as if she were trying to discern whether or not to believe him. Her breath shuddered when he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against her skin, his lips already slightly parted in anticipation of her answer.

Her fingers slipped behind his head, tightening in his hair as she closed her eyes. “Gods, yes.”

In the next moment, his mouth caught hers. Just the gentle pressure of his lips against hers, slow and tender, as if he could soothe her racing pulse. His fingers securely cradled the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, coaxing her mouth open with practiced ease.

A shiver went through her as she parted her lips, her tongue a silky caress against his. The soft moan that escaped the back of her throat lit a flame deep in his core. His hands glided over her hips and he drew her beneath him. He settled weight on her, his thigh nudging hers apart as his kisses swiftly built in intensity. The blaze within him was too hot, too consuming, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

This was different. It felt different. Astarion had kissed hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people. He had become desensitized to the sensation. It was all just muscle memory, his body performing the same dance it had done so many times. There was always a bleak emptiness inside him when he kissed someone. An emptiness that stemmed from knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that kissing him would be one of the last things they ever did.

Not this time.

Heat, a spark of something, filled that typically empty void within him. Gods, when was the last time kissing someone made him feel anything at all? Decades? Centuries?

Maybe it was just because he knew Cazador couldn’t ruin it. At least, not at that moment. Or maybe it was the tadpole. Who knew? So much had changed so quickly, it could have been anything.

Cas arched into him, her hips moving in a subtle but familiar rhythm as he pressed himself to her. Slowly, he rocked against her, letting every part of her feel every part of him. A gasp escaped her lips, so soft and sweet. As if she couldn’t get enough, she gathered him impossibly closer as she lavished his neck with fervent kisses.

“Do you think this is maybe a bad idea?” she said breathlessly, but made no move to stop herself as she pulled the collar of his shirt aside and kissed the newly revealed skin with ardor.

Gods, it actually felt… nice? He closed his eyes and leaned into the feeling for a moment, enjoying her attention. He looked for his usual feelings of disgust or self-loathing, but they were hiding. Somewhere. Waiting to pop up at any minute. He was sure of that.

Astarion slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt. “You’re giving me mixed signals here, darling,” he said as he traced circles around the jut of her hips with his thumb.

Deliberately, he pressed his hardened length against her core and she arched into him eagerly. “But no, my dear,” he said as his hand skimmed over her front, brushing against the stiff peaks of her breasts, and began unbuttoning her shirt. “I don’t think this is a bad idea.”

“I just don’t want you to think — ” Cas’s head snapped towards the entrance of the tent at the sound of footsteps.

The footsteps grew louder, approaching the tent, and the lust in Cas’s eyes faded as she mouthed a curse.

Instead of doing the sensible thing and putting some distance between them, Astarion caged Cas beneath him like a tiger hiding his prey from anyone who dared try to steal his claim.

Damn it. It had all happened so fast. He should have suggested somewhere more private. Where there wouldn’t be any risk of interruptions.

Surely no one would come looking in his tent in the middle of the night. What reason would they have? It was likely just someone getting up for a late night bathroom break. Nothing to worry about. Whoever it was would walk right past his tent, and he and Cas could continue on like nothing had happened.

Mindful of the footsteps, he undid the last button on Cas’s shirt and pushed the loose fabric aside. His palm cupped beneath her breast as his thumb and forefinger stroked and pinched the dark tip, drawing out the smallest whimper of pleasure.

Her fingers carded through his hair as she cradled his head. “They’ll hear us,” Cas whispered into the crook of his neck.

“So?” He matched her tone as he slid his palm across the flat expanse of her stomach, marveling at the contrast between the silky soft skin over combat hardened muscle. It occurred to him right then that there was a very real possibility Cas could kick his ass if she wanted to. But that realization didn’t scare him. In fact, it gave him all the more reason to have Cas on his side. “Let them,” he said and nipped along her jawline to her earlobe.

Boots scuffed against the dirt outside the tent and Cas turned toward the source of the noise. Despite her evident worry, she did not push Astarion away.

He kissed the slender column of her neck, silently urging her that everything was fine. No one had any reason to come looking in his tent. Everything would be just fine.

Those thoughts stopped the moment he heard voices.

“Gale.” Lae’zel’s voice came from the opposite direction of the approaching footsteps. “About time you woke up.”

“Ah, good evening,” Gale replied, sounding tired yet cheerful. “Or is it morning?”

There was no doubt in his mind that Gale was oblivious to what was going on beyond the thick fabric of Astarion’s tent. Astarion swallowed and held completely still, hovering over Cas as she scarcely dared to breathe. Her hands clutched the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline, her eyes locked on the entrance to his tent.

“I was just checking to see where everyone was before I started my watch,” Gale said. “Don’t want any surprises.”

If either of them moved, Gale would have his answer immediately. The tents were not sound proof by any means, and there was no doubt that Gale could tell the difference between someone rolling over in their sleep and two stupid elves caught in a tangle of limbs.

“Everyone is in their tents,” Lae’zel said with an air of authority that left no room for argument. “I would like to be in mine already. Given your tardiness, I assume you have little idea of how a night watch works. I would suggest you start with a patrol on the east side of camp. There are a couple of rabbits over there who aren’t as quiet as they ought to be and they may draw predators.”

As if to confirm Gale was completely unaware of the happenings in the tent, he apologized to Lae’zel for oversleeping and thanked her for the suggestion (whether or not either statement was sincere was up for debate). Lae’zel scoffed and told him to be on his way. As footsteps faded away into nothingness, Cas’s grip on his shirt loosened.

A beat of silence passed, yet neither of them dared to move until three taps rustled the fabric of the tent. Metal plates clicked against chain mail, and Lae’zel passed by the tent without a single word.

Why the Hells Lae’zel had covered for them, Astarion could not even begin to guess. But when Cas breathed a sigh of relief, he found himself glad for the help. Given her state of undress, Lae’zel not only spared Cas some awkwardness but a great deal of embarrassment as well.

Cas cupped the side of his face and looked him in the eyes for a moment, a soft smile on her lips before she pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. “We should probably go to bed,” she said and sat up, making him back away to give her space.

“I thought that’s what we were doing,” Astarion said, trying to ignore the tingling sensation her kiss had left on his cheek. It was almost too sweet; the way she gazed into his eyes like he mattered followed by such a chaste bit of affection. It felt wrong.

Perhaps it really was for the best if they went to their separate bedrolls that night. He clearly wasn’t in the right state of mind to continue on as though nothing had happened. Not to mention, the opportunity Lae’zel had so generously (suspiciously) given them would be rendered pointless if Gale returned before Cas got back to her tent.

Smiling, she reached over and smoothed the fabric of his shirt and said a little wistfully, “Another time, Astarion.”

His fingers brushed over the soft skin of her cheek with a featherlight touch. “As you wish, darling,” he said. “Just try not to keep me waiting too long.”

Cas held his hand in his for just a moment and give his fingers an affectionate squeeze. “Goodnight, Astarion,” she said as she got to her feet. “Rest well.”

Not quite sure if he would rest at all, Astarion bid her goodnight.

What in the Hells had just happened?

—

Astarion wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he left his tent the next morning. A weird look from Gale. A sly comment from Lae’zel. Something from Cas.

But no.

Nothing.

Gale and Shadowheart greeted him from their spots around the campfire, mugs of coffee in hand as they resumed their conversation about something he did not care about in the slightest. Toward the back of the camp, Lae’zel watched with mild interest as Wyll and Cas trained with one another. Karlach shouted a couple of playful taunts at Wyll, any bad blood between them seemingly forgiven.

No one paid Astarion the slightest bit of attention. Not a knowing smile, or a suspicious glare.

No one knew.

He supposed he should have been grateful, but part of him wanted the others to know. It was all the better for his protection if they thought him and Cas were lovers. Then they couldn’t risk hurting him without dealing with Cas as well.

Poised with his rapier, his shirt off and a sheen of sweat coating his torso, Wyll gave Cas a nod. “Come on then,” he challenged with a cocky smile. “Knock me down and we can call it.”

Cas took a swing at him with a wooden training sword and Wyll sidestepped easily. “This was just supposed to be a warm up,” she panted and swatted a sweaty strand of hair from her face.

“And now it’s a lesson,” Wyll replied with a showman-like flourish of his rapier. “Don’t think I didn’t see what happened back at the Grove gate. You need a fall back plan if you lose that bow.”

Apparently, all of her skill with a bow left her little room for skills in other areas of combat. Come to think of it, Cas never used a weapon beside her bow unless she absolutely had to. The first time Astarion saw her use a dagger was when a goblin had tackled her to the ground and knocked the bow clear out of her hand. Thankfully, that dagger she had was sharper than a dragon claw and it took barely any effort for it to slip past the goblin’s sad excuse for armor. The dagger was her fall back plan, as Wyll put it. A dagger was much better suited for attacks from the shadows, and Cas needed some skill set in between long range and breathing down the enemy’s neck.

Astarion took a seat next to Lae’zel and acknowledged him with a nod. Nothing else. She seemed more interested in watching the training than she was in conversation.

He cleared his throat. “Last night — ”

“War camp etiquette,” Lae’zel said without taking her eyes off of Wyll and Cas. “I fully expect to be given the same consideration should the roles be reversed.”

No nonsense, no threats to keep things professional between one another. Good. Though he loved a good bit of drama, there was enough going on around them that he didn’t want to be at the center of it.

“Duly noted,” Astarion replied with a gracious nod.

For a brief moment, he considered asking her how she knew what was happening inside the tent, but ultimately decided that he didn’t want the answer. She knew, she covered for them, that was enough. The ‘how’ and ‘why’ didn’t matter. Astarion drew his foot up to rest on his knee and watched as Cas failed to strike Wyll yet again.

It took half a dozen more tries before Cas finally got Wyll to lose his footing. Though she didn’t knock him down, Wyll deemed enough progress had been made for one morning. They packed away the training equipment and Wyll excused himself to get breakfast.

Finally, Cas noticed him. She smiled despite her flushed face and sweat-dampened hair clinging to her forehead. “You.” Cas pointed at him, still sounding a little out of breath from her workout. “Need to talk to you.”

Without any prompting, Lae’zel told Karlach that was to spar with her and took her leave, once again leaving him and Cas alone.

At the very least, both Astarion and Cas owed Lae’zel a drink.

“I’m all pointy ears, darling,” he said and leaned back, palms resting on the sun warmed rock beneath him.

Cas plopped down next to him, the salty scent of sweat strong on her skin. “Are you good for a long trip today?” she asked and wiped her brow. “We’re going to try to find Ethel. See what she knows about the tadpole. We might have a night or two away from the main camp.”

Not what he expected her to ask him about. If not for Lae’zel’s comment, he might have thought last night never happened at all.

When he hesitated a moment too long, Cas continued, “If you’re not feeling up for it, I can ask Lae’zel or Karlach.”

“No, no.” Astarion ran his hand through his hair but couldn’t help the way confusion furrowed his brow. Was she really not going to bring it up? After he spent way too long replaying their time together over and over in his head like he hadn’t so much as kissed someone before her. “I’d be happy to accompany you,” he added, doing his best to sound nonplussed.

“Good,” she said with a sigh of relief. “I wasn’t sure how you were feeling after last night. I didn’t come to your tent with the intent to….” Her brow knitted together as if she were struggling to find her words.

“The intent to… get half naked and make out like a couple of horny teenagers?” he finished for her, a rakish grin pulling at his lips as relief washed over him.

He didn’t know why it mattered so much that she acknowledged the time they spent together. Hells, he wanted to forget most of the people he had been with over the years. But Cas…. Something about her felt different. He couldn’t place his finger on it.

Cas did not return his smile, concern etched into her face. “I don’t want you to think I was trying to use you.”

A bark of laughter erupted from his mouth. He wasn’t sure if he laughed because he actually found her words amusing or if it was simply shock. When was the last time someone had been concerned with how he was feeling? Whether or not he was comfortable?

Truth be told, he couldn’t remember. Perhaps no one ever had.

It made something stir within his chest that he wasn’t entirely prepared to deal with. Instinctively, he pushed the feeling back into the darkness where it belonged.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” he said, holding himself back from saying all the things he wanted to say. Cas had practically laid herself out for him like a feast. He had her exactly where he wanted her. Trusting him, concerned about him, easy to manipulate, to bend to his whim…

She bumped her knee against his, jerking him from his train of thought. “Just wanted to be sure.” Cas stood and stretched her arms above her head in a way that lifted her shirt, revealing a delicious strip of tan skin that practically begged for his lips. “I meant it when I said that I enjoy your company,” she said, completely oblivious to where his thoughts had wandered. “With and without things like last night.”

Astarion reached out for her before she could step away, his fingers gripping into the leathers covering her thighs. He spun her around to stand between his knees. Cupping her legs just below her the curve of her behind, he gazed up at her now blushing face. “Next time,” he said and gave her legs a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be sure there are no interruptions.”

“Next time, I wouldn’t be opposed to you biting anyone who does,” she joked, barely acknowledging how his hands crept up her backside.

That feeling tugged at his heart again, but he could not help the wicked smile that curled his lips. “Glad to see we’re on the same page, darling,” he said. “But now I almost hope the next person who interrupts us is Wyll.”

A playful hand pushed against his shoulder and she stepped out of his grasp. “We’re leaving in an hour,” she said, a girlish grin on her lips as she started back towards the others. Thankfully, the spot he had chosen to sit was just out of view of the main campsite, so none of them seemed to notice his hands on their leader.

He watched as she walked away, eyes lingering on the places he had the pleasure of touching last night. The iron cage around his heart caved ever so slightly when it tried to push past to follow her. He took in a breath of air his lungs did not really need, coaching the unwanted feeling back as he had done so many times before. With so many people, in so many decades. His heart could bang itself against the iron cage as much as it wanted, but those bars would hold fast.

They always did.

A cold realization settled in the back of his mind as he got to his feet. One that he hoped was merely the result of his newfound freedom from Cazador and nothing more. One that he would rather not think about because its implications made him feel almost sick to his stomach.

Astarion wanted her.

And not just as a tool.

---

Beginning

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[invinciblerodent]

today I spent a good two hours or so on making everyone little personalized pouches of "sentimental" items :)

(I don't think this game was intended to be played the way I play it)

the first is Iona's, that's a bit of an.... eclectic collection: I like to decide on one or two things the PC might collect as I play them, for her it ended up being sentimental jewelry and love letters (Petyr collects poems and songs, and Arvid collected romance novels)

Astarion, I have carrying a few poetry books and "novel drafts" (the saucier and more embarrassing for its author, the better- I think he'd be far more interested in the handwritten, horrible, ridiculous porn than any of the legit, published smut we've found), some of the texts from Cazador's mansion, Chessa's practice sword, Mamzell Amira's hand mirror, and a vial of blood (as, like, a lover's favor bc it's the SENTIMENTAL pouch, we're SENTIMENTAL here)

Jaheira has her husband's letter (she's wearing his amulet), the Harper pin from her home, and a couple books on the Bhaalspawn crisis, the Harpers, the Guild, and Nine-Fingers- I like to think that she's kinda "all business" about it

Halsin has his own journal, the Shadow-druids' letter to Kagha, the carved staff we found on a dead druid in the Shadowlands, a book on illithid anatomy, and since I don't have his pipe in this playthrough, I just. let him have all the drugs we've found

Gale has every book I've kept on Karsus, the Weave, the different schools of magic, and all the other powerful and/or mysterious books I could find that aren't quest items (except for the Annals of Karsus)

Karlach has a little regiment of stuffies, a hand-drawn treasure map (Adventure! Yay, X marks the spot!), all our infernal stuff, and a book about pub crawls in the Gate

Shadowheart naturally has all the Dark Justiciar- and Selunite stuff we've found (a prayer book, the spear, Aylin's brooch she never asked for back, and a Selune idol I've been holding onto since act 1)- I sold the Sharran stuff and the Shar idol to the first merchant we found in act 3, might get her a diamond to put in there too

aaaand Wyll has his dad's diary and cudgel, a book (and some dirt) on patriar families, the toys from that one vault in the Counting House (which, I mean, might as well be his), and a dagger called "Worgfang" that gives advantage against goblins (because MAN he's bloodthirsty against goblins in act 1).

I haven't gotten Lae'zel back or gotten Minsc yet, but I've put aside all my gith-specific weapons and armor for Lae'zel :) (I dunno what I'm gonna give Minsc. Maybe he'll just get some cookies or something, I don't know)

Are these a useless waste of carryweight? absolutely. do I nevertheless find it very necessary and delightful? also yes.

[all-pacas]

bg3 characters ranked by how awful i think they'd be to live with

HALSIN: Incredible. Helps out around the house, brings up any concerns in a helpful way, gardens, rescues animals. Probably not always the best at "general communication." Like he'll just go out for groceries, runs into someone he knows, they're on their way to a meeting about cleaning up a recent oil spill, of course he'd love to tag along, and then it's been four hours and you're still waiting for him to come home with eggs?

JAHEIRA: Takes care of things, Very Much expects you to do the same and will not tolerate laziness. Doesn't think to fill you in on every aspect of her life, and doesn't expect that from you. Absolutely not clingy. A surprisingly soft touch. She will come home with a new pet or child and not take no for an answer. In fact, she'll be pissed as hell with you if you suggest you can't foster a new kid.

WYLL: Considerate, good natured, great as a roommate or as a partner. I get the vibe he'd be a little scattered, though. Like, he's not always gonna be 100% up to date on the chores, he leaves his laundry to pile up. He's an okay but not fantastic cook. He's definitely accidentally ruined a pan or two. Doesn't want to "bother" you if he's in a bad mood or troubled or upset, but probably also isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, leading to some stomping around and "I said I am FINE" annoyances, but he always gets over himself sooner rather than later. Always wants to Engage: you can't just both be sitting and doing your own thing; he wants to talk and check in.

SHADOWHEART: Absolutely Competent. Takes care of her shit and assumes you will take care of yours. Is probably the type to wash her dishes and leave yours to rot. Is capable of great passive-aggressiveness. That said, is friendly and perfectly cool with existing independently. Likes cuddling on the sofa, but only sometimes or for a little while.

KARLACH: Enthusiastic but messy. She does not keep on top of things. She cannot cook. Gives everything 120%, overwaters all the plants into oblivion. Most likely to sleep on a mattress on the floor instead of buying a bedframe. Almost always in a good mood; the times she isn't she gets over it fast. A little clingy. Has trouble letting you read or watch TV in peace, she always wants to chat or hang or sing to herself. No quiet in this house.

GALE: On the one hand, a fantastic cook. He will make sure you are always well fed. He can entertain himself, and is perfectly happy to be left alone with his books. On the other hand, every meal probably uses half the bowls and pots and pans in the house, and he does not clean. Piles of Stuff everywhere. Will go on research binges and forget the world exists. Is always super considerate and happy to pitch in, but you WILL need to remind him. Every single time. He's both wonderful and super annoying to live with.

LAE'ZEL: Bossy. Wants things just so, and you WILL do what she says. No compromises, no debate. Her standards are pretty reasonable (although she does seem like she's probably a clean freak), it's just that you have no say in it. Not a good cook. Big on Health Food/Food is Fuel.

MINSC: You're gonna parent this man. He is always good humored and cheerful and eager, but you are gonna have to remind him what to do constantly. Probably surprisingly diligent about one thing. Like he ALWAYS does laundry daily and perfectly, something like that. But putting it away? Cooking? Cleaning? Whomst?

ASTARION: Fully expects you are going to clean and tend house for him. Doesn't eat food and doesn't see the point in buying or preparing it. Has exacting standards he will not at all help maintain. Feels that the pleasure of his companionship is more than enough reward for your services. Will probably happily buy you clothes and keep you well dressed, but his tastes are incredibly gaudy so is that really a win?

[static-sulker]

SO HERES A BLOODWEAVE INTERACTION IN MY SUPER AWESOME REAL COOL BG3 MODERN FANTASY AU. BLOOWEAVE FLAVORED. I MENTIONED THE FACT THAT ASTARION AND GALE HAVE WINE AND BOOK TIME LATE AT NIGHT AND I WANTED TO DO A BIT OF WRITING ON THAT SO.... ENJOY.

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Astarion sighed, absently tracing the cover of the book he was reading as the words became dull over his eyes. It was 2 in the morning and Astarion decided to continue to read late into the night to distract himself as usual. His mind usually festered when he was alone, as no matter how much he'd deny it, he had gotten awfully comfortable with his roommates. They all seemed to care about him in one way or another, which was insane in the eyes of Astarion on how much they have with no real benefit. Why would they spare Astarion blood for no other reason then his comfortability? It didn't seem to click for Astarion that maybe, just maybe, they all liked him.

Without the comforting white noise of Halsin subconsciously humming through the kitchen as he waters the overgrowing hoard of plants he was installed into the house, or Gale's astral plane documentaries he shows Karlach, or even Lae'zel on her continuous mission to keep the place clean, it feels too quiet. So he reads. Surprisingly finding it a good pass time in these times of need. It's a old romance novel on stars falling in love among the flowing tears of the sky. Who knew githyanki could have such ways with words? But tonight Astarion could barely focus. He needed a new set of scenery besides his own room. It was a nice room, obviously, as he made sure all of it was to his liking. Crimson rugs and moody candles lingering through the space. one long vanity mirror he had gotten from Shadowheart in a gag joke two years ago, which he will admit, was fairly funny. One large king bed, right under a open window that showed the beauty of stars above his deep red and black comforters. It was exactly what he needed to rest, but right now, it was all to regular to keep his mind from lingering to topics he...Would rather avoid.

So...He grabbed his book, his half-empty glass of wine and a spare blanket he was gifted by Wyll last Festival of The Moon. He had so many gifts littered around his room, a feeling he had never experienced to this extent. He sauntered out to the living room, letting out a quiet, yet dramatic, sigh as he took his seat on one of their VERY overused couches. it already seemed to be halfway through the state of just selling it, but it hasn't made it's way through that or the apartments doors just yet. He snuggled in, before finally making eye contact.

With Gale.

Astarion must have been WAY too tired to not realize such a presence as his.

He was sitting across from him on their second couch, With a light cantrip glowing a soft yellow light over the pages of a leather-bound book. He had draped over a warm looking maroon blanket over his legs, with his book in his lap. He looked rather comfortable all soft and quiet like this, with a glass of wine in hand and the other holding his spot in his book. He tilted his head once reaching eye contact, not exactly alarmed but more confused if anything.

"Ah, Gale. Didn't expect to see you up around now. But I should've guessed it, as you are the resident Wizard of the house." Astarion keeps his voice lofty, veiled in a shield of confidence and glamour. Gale sighed, flipping a worn page with deft fingers. Astarion adored those fingers it infuriated him. Something about them were so undoubtedly "Gale" and human in a way that he couldn't quite get. Gale was as human as they come, but in such a soft way that it made him look over it all sometimes. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I could never have guessed that you'd come out of your quarters at this hour and with that book." Gale smiled, nodding over to the book that Astarion had almost forgot he was holding in his hands. The cover was a dusty green, yellow accents speckling the frame of the cover politely. Astarion scrunched his nose in confusion. "What, is it not up to your perfect academic standards?" his voice may have been laced in a touch too much venom for the situation, but Gale didn't seem to mind much. He put his hands up defensively, letting out a little chuckle. "Oh don't worry, Astarion. "Bleeding Tears" is one of my favorite fictional Githyanki pieces i've read since my college days." He speaks carefully but calmly, pointing to the title of the cover itched in to the top of the front cover. Astarion calmed a bit at that. And even dared to smile.

Because of Gale. What was wrong with him???

Soon after this, the two began to realize how similar their reading tastes could be. While Gale did enjoy a more academic piece every now and then, but he was a sucker for long romances for a good leisurely read. Even if at first, they never spoke on it, the two would go out later in the nights and just read among the others presence. This would first take spot in the homes of the living room, until Gale suggests that they could venture to his room, as the place is practically 1/3rd bedroom, 1/3 library and 1/3 winery. The offer, while timidly, was received. They would complain about characters to each other, usually passing out among the pillows of Gales bed with wine stains becoming a continuous issue by the amount of times they pass out with wine in hand. Thank the gods for prestidigitation. It was soft and natural and right, never enough to be mentioned outside of the two of them, but enough to cancel plans for.

It was their thing. Just for the two of them.

And it make Astarion have not-so-lonely nights and giving Gale a closer look into his beautiful red-eyed roomates world just a little bit more.