#Lyric the Bard

[thedomesticanthropologist]

"So... I like you, and you obviously like me too," Astarion was posed so deliberately as he spoke, one hip jutted out and a finger twirling the curl around his ear that Lyric had complimented the night before. Calculated.

"Why don't we slip away together, tonight? I know a little spot. Private, secluded. We could.... Get to know each other a little better, Darling." Hooded eyes, chin tilted down, practically purring.

Lyric's tail lashed from side to side, her shoulders stiffening as she stared him down. No weakening of the knees, no burst of lust behind the eyes. Astarion caught the response, popping out his bottom lip in a defenseless little pout to sweeten the deal.

"Astarion... I..."

"I promise, you sweet thing. The Only thing on my mind is depraved. Carnal. Lust. No need to worry. I... Want you, and you deserve a little treat, for how very very good you've been."

Lyric huffed, arms crossing as she leaned into the vampires personal space and... Sniffed him. A deep, loud, long inhale that had his brows shooting up in surprise, back on his heels so fast from her lurching forward that he nearly lost his footing. She shook her head. He blinked.

"...no."

"wh? Whatever for? Did you just smell me and decide- did- I can *bathe beforehand* you-" somewhere between mortified and offenses, confused and disturbed, Astarion fumbled his words with no hope of decoding whatever bizarre fuckery just happened.

"I can smell pheromones. The sire of my bloodline passed down some hellish traits that come in handy, and you.... Your words don't make your scent. I don't like it."

"I'm undead, darling. I don't have pheromones. But suit yourself." With an inscrutable backwards glance, Astarion walked off looking somewhere between completely put-off and utterly confused.

Lyric stared after him, a strange sensation swirling in her guts. Should she have simply pretended to be convinced? Was sex the olive branch that he'd been offering, and now the door was slamming shut alongside any chance to connect with the man?

More uncertain now than before, the tiefling huffed and walked back to camp. These skills had served her well all her life, but now she'd tipped her hand as well as pissed off a companion. What a mess.

[soothsayerditty]

★I don’t know the reason why Running through this endless sky I can’t see the journey’s end Yet I swear I’ll try again Wish the world could always be Like the light that’s shining here with me★

★BNA - NIGHT RUNNING★

[sadmages]

Durge thoughts

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

You wanna know what I'm surprised I haven't seen more of? Bard Tavs serenading Astarion, or singing him to sleep with a lullaby composed just for him. I'm sure Astarion would eat up all that affection.

This is so cute omg. And also managed to be an actual drabble instead of a novel! As always cw for spoilers!

~

Astarion woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest as he frantically looked around. But he wasn't in Cazador's torture room. No, instead he was at the Elfsong, safe and sound in a private room. It had been another nightmare, a typical occurrence as of late.

Atarion had assumed that those would stop after the monster was dead, but they seemed to be more frequent than ever. It felt unfair. He had won. Cazador was dead, by his own hand. There was nothing left to fear. Well... that wasn't including the tadpole still trapped in his lover's skull, not to mention his own. And the Elder Brain. And the cult of Bhaal. But in all honesty, all of that felt so small now with his slave master disintegrated. If he could do what had felt impossible, what had been impossible, for centuries, why couldn't he accomplish the rest?

Astarion groaned as he sat up, realizing for the first time that he was alone in bed. But luckily enough you hadn't gone far. He turned to find you sitting on the window sill, illuminated by the moonlight as you scribbled away in your journal.

You glanced over at the sound of his shuffling, your brow furrowed, "Star? Why are you still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Astarion sighed, the coldness of your side of the bed coming into full perspective. He would like that fixed sooner than later, "Now come back to me, it's cold."

You smiled, slipping down from your perch to join him in bed. Astarion wasn't quite sure when such simple actions would stop making him melt like an infatuated teenager. He was starting to think that it would never come to an end.

You laughed softly as he immediately wrapped his arms around you, cradling you against his chest, "You know how I love to sleep in fits and starts. But you don't exactly have the same excuse, do you? You look so tired lately."

Astarion frowned, loathing the fact that his lack of sleep had become so obvious. But then again, if anyone was going to be familiar with his night terrors, it would be you. He sighed, "Just nightmares. Nothing you haven't heard before."

You frowned, "That doesn't make them pleasant."

"No," Astarion laughed softly, "It doesn't. But now it's your turn. What were you up to in the middle of the night?"

"Just some writing. I've been working on a few things."

"Like what?" Astarion asked, sincerely curious. You were quite the talent as a bard, a fact that he was aware of before he fell in love with you.

"A new ballad mostly, with a lullaby on the side."

That sounded well within your wheel house, though this was the first time he'd heard of you writing a lullaby, "What inspired that?"

"You," You said simply, "But I know how you get when I'm all mushy, so I kept it to myself for now."

Astarion hadn't expected that, but that massive smile that broke out on his face at the news wasn't a surprise. He kissed the top of your head, still smiling to himself, "I don't recall ever saying I disliked you being a sickening romantic. Can I hear it?"

You looked up at him, surprised for some reason. Which was frankly silly. Who wouldn't want to hear a song written about them from the person they loved most? For once in his life Astarion was being the normal one here.

"You want me to sing to you?" You asked, sitting up in bed to smile down at him.

Astarion grinned back, "I wouldn't object to it."

"Well in that case..."

And then you started to sing. Astarion adored the sound of your voice, and apparently he loved it even more when you were singing about him.

Little star, so bright and fierce,

Beautiful with eyes that pierce,

But that's not all there is,

He's strong and swift with perfect lips to kiss, a humor that is only his,

Charming and witty, a wish come true,

If only the rest of the world knew.

Astarion wasn't quite sure when he fell asleep that night, but it was to the sound of your sweet, melodious voice and with a smile plastered to his face.

And for the first time in days, he didn't have a single nightmare.

[hyperbali]

Il était brun, le teint basané

Le regard timide, les mains toutes abimées

Il taillait la chair, petit-fils d'une Talon

Il en était fier, mais pourquoi vous riez?

Non ne le jugez pas

Vous qui n'connaissez pas

Les vertiges et le labeur

Vous êtes faussement heureux, vous troquez vos valeurs

Lui il est tout mon monde et bien plus que ça

Seule, je crie son nom quand vient le désarroi

Et puis tout s'effondre quand il n'est plus là

J'aimerais tellement lui dire mais je n'ose pas

Lui qui m'fait

Tourner dans le vide, vide

Tourner dans le vide, vide

Tourner dans le vide, il me fait tourner

Dans le vide, vide, vide

Tourner, tourner dans le vide

Tourner dans le vide, il me fait tourner...

who am i if my ships don't have a drop of angst, i ask you

it's fine, spite'll take care of it

he gets a song, and if they're singing, they can't be sad! win/win!

(they/them for the bard, pls and thank. ...yes you'll get to know their name soon i swear)

[onitekkart]

I think she deserves long hair. as a treat

[all-or-nothing-baby]

dear heart

[screechingfromthevoid]

Dorian with the crown keepers in some quiet taverns in quiet towns as they travel, he's always up late. He can't quite fall asleep well. So he sneaks out to a different tavern than the one they're staying at. He doesn't want to risk someone recognizing him in the morning.

At the new taverns, he goes straight to their stages. The emptier the better but it's not hard for him to convince a half drunk bard to get even drunker.

Sometimes he'd sit on the poorly lit stage and strum his mandolin and not say a word at all as he started to pluck out a tune. The chords are simple at first, something he heard in a dream. Every night spent working, adds another measure. Deeper swells and higher jumps. A mournful reverberation. He was stuck for a while.

Until he hears "glad you're not here... wish you were anyways".

Then, disjointed and seemingly unexpected, a reprise of that first plucking, an octave and a half lower. Still major, still jovial. Just. Deeper. Just... Realer.

I'll fix the transition later, he thought.

That's when the lyrics came. They weren't good but they spilled out of his mouth involuntarily. If it were up to him, those thoughts, those feelings would stay caged in his heart. Instead, a room full of strangers knew him more fully than his intimates.

Protector of air, guard of heart, bulwark of us

His simple plucked out tune, a dreamed up melody for a man he could only dream of.

You say you don't lead. But when I look to you, you're drenched in the boreal crux

A deep and quiet start to the encroaching swell, getting louder and higher.

Crowns of spiders couldn't tempt me astray from your due north

Trilled eight notes that felt like crawling legs and whispy silk on the back of the neck.

I thought you might be the wind caught in my sails. Always only you caught in my fibers

His last word carries a sour note, it sounded wrong, out of tune. Like he was.

A storm by another name, gold and red and melting black, tore us off course

Dorian's run was backwards, like he was free falling from a ledge. Accidentals plaguing it's decent.

It's harder than ever to orient through shades of grey and leave behind no remorse...

That reverberation was accompanied by a strain in his voice. Something that happened every night once he made it to that point. It came next to a swallow of something in his throat. That transition came to him, when Dorian thought about what got him out of his slump, he laughed. Bashfully, sheepishly. He always felt his face burn.

My heart aches. Stay steadfast. Fairer winds...

What a thing to say instead of I miss you.

I have stolen a world away. You are there, I am here. And all I want is to be together when we wake

His melody, their melody, picked up again. His fingers started to pluck staccatos in between the languid chords.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or so they say. This distance has only made mine bleed icar

Dorian wouldn't allow himself to end this with a confession. At least, not one of guilt. It wasn't supposed to be about his straying. It was supposed to be about Orym. It was supposed to be about the man he-

I look for the direction ivy green grows. I look to you still, to find my way.

Sometimes he ended the song with another reprise of his dreamy melody. Sometimes, his fingers would slip on the strings and rancid mistakes would ring out into the crowd. It seemed to depend on how hard they fought that day. How much more Opal stained.

Dorian would always thanked the crowd before taking up the coins that were haphazardly thrown on stage. He wouldn't set out a hat or cup, it wasn't about that, but there was always coin at his feet by the end.

He'd walk quiet streets and thought about Bertrand. Dorian understood now, what he said about walking alone at night. He stepped carefully up lulling tavern stairs thinking about picking up a bottle for a round of "what the fuck is up with that" with friend that weren't waiting for him. He slid into the room he shared with his brother, acknowledging every time that this was the first time they did that. They never shared a room or a bed as children. They didn't share much. Now fully grown, he felt they were more childish than ever.

Dorian curled into himself on his cold side of the bed and thought about how he used to have a pulsing heart beat on his skin. Whether it was across his legs, against his back, against his chest. He never felt loneliness like this before. He never felt the absence of someone before.

And he was worse for it

[inamindfarfaraway]

@autisticshadowthehedgehog likes to match Sonic characters with Lydia the Bard’s songs about AU versions of Disney heroines who turn evil, which I love, and I’m also obsessed with Surge and Kit. So I was inspired to write the lyrics for the songs that fit them. I see Surge’s song as taking place during the Overpowered arc and Kit’s when they’re in the Restoration.

[doodle-girl]

Spirit was making another animatic in the whiteboard last night and I drew this alongside it because getting jumpscared by Lydia the Bard lyrics in the whiteboard sparked sone kind of quick adrenaline in me

Bonus version but with the red goggles instead of their glasses because I brainfarted while coloring but still think it looks cool:

[thedomesticanthropologist]

This is my Tav, Lyric. She's a lore bard that writes smut novels and publishes them in Baldur's Gate. She doesn't use a pseudonym, we stand on our kinks like the Gods we Are.

Such novels include but are not limited to:

"The illicit Illithid: Severed from the netherbrains love, Th'rin'ol finds solace in Orgies instead"

"Drow Down Under: The Munch Chronicles"

"Explore my Underdark: Multiple Entrances"

And if course the ever popular Prince Pegmie series,

1) Prince Pegmie and the Strap-On-Seducer

2)Prince Pegmie and the Werewolf Ritual

3) Prince Pegmie and his Vampire Vacation

She also writes friend fiction, and if one of her companions is pissing her off she's known to pull out her journal and start writing aggressively while making eye contact with them.

((don't steal these book names for your bard, but your OC's can reference them or Lyric if you wish to mention her as an infamous author in your RP/fanfic/fanart just tag me))

[another-kshit-blog]

So anyway, this might be the worst official manga Sebastian I've ever seen.

[tiecladartist]

I haven't romanced Gale as a bard yet, but one of my fav pastimes is writing little bard songs, and I wrote one my Tav would sing if they did romance Gale. I imagine it'd be written out of frustration as he keeps insisting he isn't good enough for them yet.

If folks like the lyrics, I could try recording it!

Ambition, Ambition, the mission you set on yourself.

Ambition, is driven, by power, a book on your shelf.

Ambition, approval, the removal, of the curse that feeds upon the price you now pay...

For that cursed ambition.

For what is tomorrow, but the dreams of today?

When you chase the horizon, you chase it away.

This web you have woven, it chokes like a noose.

You keep feeding and feeding and feeding it, what is the use?

Cannot sate your ambition.

That accursed ambition.

Like poetry, your words reveal your heart.

Despite all the power you held, you're back at the start.

A golden beacon snuffed out like a flickering flame.

Been performing so long... you've forgotten your name...

But a candle burns brightly enough to keep someone warm.

A book can still hold all the answers when it's pages are torn.

A beacon burns bright at the cost of the fuel it burns.

You're the brightest man that I know, so why can't you learn...

You don't need grand ambition.

You don't need her permission.

So enough competition,

You're perfect as you.

(I wrote another one that was less tough love while I was at work, but I couldn't actually write it down and it's lost forever now 😭)

[candytuft-whimsing]

Deep in the night, the fight can be tragic, I'll help you conquer her!

Starting my practicing for commissions, seeing as some Swedish cons are coming up in spring. This being the first one.

It almost doubled the time I set to do it, but definitely pushed me to make it faster than I otherwise would.

[nerdallwritey]

snippet sunday/WIP wednesday

I was tagged by the wonderful @khywren! Thank you!!!

Here's a snippet from part two of An Evening To Ourselves; expect more banter, but there's also some angst this time around to address a few elephants in the room 👀 (Not in this snippet though. This snippet is goofy because those are my favorite parts <3)

“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?” “Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him.  He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?” You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?” “Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.” You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.” Astarion pursed his lips. “But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.” A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?” You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.” “Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.” You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”

Tagging @maladaptive-menace and anyone else who wants to participate!

I'm still new to the writing side of Tumblr and would love to make new friends to tag :) My asks/messages are always open!!