#Wyll would not romance Astarion guys come on

[errantgoat]

Camelia is past the halfway point of act 3, I might be done this week if I find the time to indulge for an hour or two every day...since I'm not doing every side-quest, and definitely not House of Hope this time around.

Also why the eff I believed the rumors Wyll's questline got cut?! SLANDER. I haven't done it yet... (his and Astarion's are left for me to finish) but it triggered normally. Maybe some dialogue during the quest itself got cut? We shall see.

After that...Astarion's origin playthrough. THE FINAL ONE GODS. I'm so excited for it, you have no idea, but it will take an iron will on my part to not goodie-two shoes him and not reach for those optimal outcomes. He is so very selfish. I mean one can choose to act 'decently' while having ulterior motives but this asshole might be too bloodthirsty and smoothbrained for it. :P

[wildfairies]

i don't understand the urge to write hate think pieces about video game characters/their writing on here like at all

[tsaritza-mika]

Sorry not Sorry guys...

I respect all your inter-companion romance ships, and I hope they bring you joy and endless inspiration, but I have a primal need for something different. I don't need my companions dating each other.

I need them to be the most dysfunctional yet supportive found family they can be

I need Karlach to be literal 'Mama K' and grab Shadowheart and Lae'zel by the scruff and put them on coat hangers, telling them that if they can't say anything nice, then shut the fuck up for five minutes and if they can do that, then she'll come and let them down

I need Astarion and Gale to get into such a spat that all dignity and posh goes out the fucking window, and they devolve into two grown-ass men having a 13-year-old style slap fight while calling each other the harshest of obscenities, but if anyone from the outside tries calling either of them less than fabulous, they join forces and fuck them up

I need Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel to do each other's hair while discussing all the ways they've taken down various opponents and monsters, and how they would have done things better

I need Jaheira just smacking everyone upside the head whenever they say or do something stupid. Because gods dammit why is she always the only one who can see trouble from a hundred miles away, only to have her perception check fail and stumble right into a trap Halsin had set up to catch food for dinner

I need Astarion to embroider offensive cross stitch into every other companion's tents when he's left behind at camp, for no other reason than he's feeling salty that day

I need Halsin to wildshape into a bear just so he can surprise Karlach with an actual bear and Clive having a tea party with flower crowns and drawings of the horrible ways Gortash will be killed

I need Shadowheart being a petty bitch and letting anyone who was being especially stupid in a fight get a little too close to death as punishment before finally healing them. Because that's just what healers do

I need Gale pranking people with his spells. Use mage hand to yank the rug out from under Lae'zel after she insisted that he was too squishy to fight properly. Casting 'create water' over Shadowheart to ruin her makeup in retaliation for saying last night's stew was a bit bland. Use Telekinesis to fling Astarion off in some random direction because dammit Gale just woke up, and the man needs his coffee before he can properly deal with all of that first thing in the damn morning

I need Lae'zel to take pillow fights just a little too seriously

I need Wyll begging Halsin and Jaheira if they can wildshape into a bear and a shark just so he can ride both of them through the Chionthar while recklessly casting Fireball and Lightning Bolt at the sky, because just think of how cool he would look doing it

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Can I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, and Halsin being jealous of some guy is flirting with their female s/o although she's oblivious that he's flirting with her? He's so possessive that he even took her back home to have a heated make-out while holding her close!

Astarion

ThE pLaN wAs SiMpLe. All jokes about Astarions' cut scene aside, he simply tried not to like you.

He tried not to notice your smile, laugh, or radiant personality that felt like the sun.

He fell, though, and you were everything to him, but he was afraid to lose you. To push you too far, you to abandon him like all others.

He tried oh so hard not to think about how that tieflings stupid tail was getting dangerously close to you.

You were so naive and unique, so headstrong but so so clueless. How could you spot an ambush a yard away but couldn't tell this creature was hitting on you.

Astarion chose the safe route of just sitting there and watching like always.

A burning fire lit within him, the usual cold tempered vampire became lit with something. Jealousy? No, it couldn't be.

Then that damn tail wrapped around your leg; why, just why couldn't you be simple? Why couldn't he just not care who you sleep with?

Before he knew it, he stood before you, the tiefling behind him. Why?

He turned on his charm, and before he knew it, he was wooing the Tiefling, convincing him to go on his married way in hopes of bedding another.

Astarion looked at you as the tiefling left, and the fear of losing something so good ate at him. Gripping your arm, he took off as quickly as a fox through the forest you close behind.

Once safely away from prying eyes where he could be vulnerable, show you how much he cared and how scared he was of losing you, and he kissed you deeply.

You two had bedded in the forest many times before, but today, your connection was so passionately different.

Gale

Gale liked to imagine he was a simple man who didn't need much, especially after all that happened with Mystra.

That was until you came along, with your well everything; Gale couldn't find anything to hate about you.

The fear of messing up again and entering a new world of troubles ate him alive—almost as bad as the orb resting in his heart.

That's why anyone getting close to you, even a fraction of romance hinted or thrown your way, killed him.

He knew his place, though. Trying to woo a woman got him into the mess he is in now, so he just stood by and watched as people flirted with you.

Every instance though filled him up like a bottle, soon the pressure was going to explode but he didn't know how to inform you of this.

That night at Sharess Caress, though, when the twins propositioned you, the bottle overflowed.

Gale couldn't handle the pressure building or how you just laughed at the twins even though he could tell you were uncomfortable by their touch.

Before he knew it, he pulled you into him and used his ability to travel the astral plane to escape.

You were his and his alone to look at, adore, and love. No outside force or group could take you. Here, he ravaged you all night and early in the morning.

From that day on, Gale never hesitated to steal you away to his private hiding place to show you his more jealous side.

Halsin

Halsin was one with nature, so sharing with you wasn't horrible.

He knew that people would come and go, but he would be your one rock, always present and always there.

That made this evening at camp so much more confusing for him.

Halsin knew the wizard, vampire, and legend were all seeking your companionship, especially since they all brought it up to him before this month.

However, watching them flirt with you repeatedly, you just accepting the advances and taunts ate at him a little.

Halsin tried to go on nature walks, work with the land, and even speak to the great oak father about this; however, he turned up blank.

Tonight at camp was exceptionally hard. Though you had turned down Wyll and Gale, you never quite turned down Astarion. Halsin didn't know why this tore him up.

As the vampire asked you to take your life force once again, Halsin grew irate. You were simply too oblivious to realize this was an addictive habit, so you always stayed by the cold man's side.

Anger consumed him, and Halsin went to your side. Grabbing your hand and dragging you along, Halsin allowed nature to take its course.

Once you two stopped in the middle of a clearing, Halsin sighed. "Oak father's blessing, I know I always said nature can take its course, but Petal, I do not think I can stand this any longer. Let's just stay us, me, you, and no one else."

Once his profession came to light and you agreed, no questions asked, Halsin couldn't wait to enjoy the combination of you two as one. Oak Father's blessing on you both.

[synergysilhouette]

10 BG3 character headcanons I have (Some thirst)

Note: I don't know ALL the lore of the characters, so my headcanons could be going against actual canon. This stuff isn't anything major, but just my thoughts on paper, so to speak.

Halsin wears no clothes (when appropriate)--At one point, Halsin mentions how society complicated the simple rules of nature, including the introduction of clothes. I like the idea that when no kids are at camp, he just goes nude, and no one complains. If someone ever thought to, the others would silence them.

2. Shadowheart raises/rescues children of Shar--I personally feel like all the companions can go the parenting route (Gale states he doesn't think he's dad material, but he gives off 50% fun dad, 50% helicopter dad vibes to me; he's probably just one of those people who won't feel ready until the situation actually arises), though Astarion and Shadowheart need more time to focus on themselves following their trauma, and with both of them having longer lifespans, they have time. Following the adoptive parent storyline you see with Lae'zel, Wyll, and Halsin, I could see Shadowheart founding an orphanage and rescuing children taken by Shar like she was, as Shar refuses to let go of the goal to corrupt Selune's children.

3. Wyll is 100% vanilla, but very horny--I feel like it's very easy to make the heroic guy with just values secretly kinky, though I love the idea that Wyll is pretty much face-value when it comes to sex. I even like to think he's a virgin, seeing how he wouldn't have sex with you until you accept his marriage proposal (unless you pass the persuasion check). Along with this, I do enjoy the idea that once Tav and Wyll become intimate, it's found Wyll has a heavy sex drive, but good self-control, and is always romantic about it. (I also just have him in his underwear at camp, so I also headcanon that that's just how he's comfortable and is 100% non-sexual.)

4. Astarion still has family and is an accomplished musician--I always found it sad how Astarion can't remember his family or much about his life pre-Cazador, but I like the idea that his family is still alive, seeing how long high-elves live, or even just having descendants in Baldur's Gate. The musiucian thing is just something I went with because I gave him proficiency with an instrument, and I like the idea that he came from a well-to-do family that trained him in music, and Cazador made sure he kept up with it when seducing victims. I haven't considered it fully, but my current idea for his family (pre-vampirism) is a doting father banished from a noble house, a strict and scholarly social-climbing mother, two older brothers and an older sister, as well as a younger sister and a baby brother. Not sure who I'd headcanon as still being alive; probably most of his siblings, if not all of his family (I've heard differing sources on high elf lifespans).

5. Karlach and Wyll are a default couple if you don't romance either of them--I just love them so much together (though I need more hornless Wyll fanart; there's a way to rescue Karlach without giving him horns, you know). Shadowheart/Astarion has also been on my mind lately...

6. Minthara has evaluated all the men at camp for suitable consorts--Seeing how she wants to found a new house and comes to respect the team, I laugh at the idea of her evaluating Halsin, Gale, Astarion, Wyll, Minsc, and male Tav as her consorts, or at least the sire of her descendants. She goes through process of elimination: Wyll, Halsin, and Minsc are loyal, but would chafe under drow cruelty and her control; Astarion's an undead and cannot produce children; and Gale would likely feel like a second-class citizen and rebel against her. Altogether, she decides none of them would make worthy consorts except male Tav (depending on the route, and ESPECIALLY if he's another drow), though Halsin and Wyll would make the best fathers for hypothetical children (and she could probably get away with sleeping with Minsc and him not realizing she's pregnant and her not telling him). She does consider the idea of reaching out to Astarion as a consort for aesthetic purposes if he leads the other spawn into the Underdark, though. (BTW, I found this fanart on Reddit)

7. Mizora mistreats Wyll because she's attracted to him--Evil corrupts, and it wouldn't shock me if Mizora was attracted to Wyll because she wants to break him. That said, due to their personalities and the nature of their relationship, Wyll has rebuffed her, and Mizora tries to make him miserable as a result. And if Tav romances Wyll, she starts to scheme to kill them just like his father. I also have the same vibe from Orin and Zevlor, but that's another thing entirely.

8. Yenna isn't an orphan--I never liked her to begin with, and I have no idea how she'd fit into any of the companions' epilogues except Wyll or Halsin's, so I feel like it'd be better for everyone if her mom turned out to be alive, or if her dad randomly popped up, and she is returned to them.

9. Gale has A LOT of (sexual) tension with Tav if they're a sorcerer--I'm not super well-versed in DnD lore, but I remember reading that wizards and sorcerers have a rivalry, and it'd be interesting if this played a role in Gale's journey to godhood, since sorcerer Tav would be born with their powers while wizard Gale spent years studying and falling from grace as Mystra's chosen. Plus this could also fuel the reason why he's the cook for the team, wanting to show how multitalented he is. Eventually, if the romances commences, it's a passionate physical affair before we get to the Toril-shattering soul intimacy.

10. Tav comes from a big community--No evidence to support this (and even not all my Tavs have big families; check out the post for my OCs), but I always think of this when they say "No one back home will ever believe this." Be it friends, biological family, or adoptive family, I imagine they have a large social group.

Do we share any headcanons? Any particular that you find interesting from my list? Lemme know! And check out Part 2.

[iicaru2]

we all agree on the comedic value of astarion being a horrid little terror of a son-in-law to ulder ravengard, but id like to introduce you to another point: the dark urge (inspired by my 2nd durge run where im romancing wyll)

post-iron throne debacle, ulder is still reeling from the revelations that he is a Bad Father and wyll is the sweetest most forgiving man on the continent, and his son cheerfully decides to introduce him to his love, the person he plans to spend the rest of his life with— and ulder is trying, so he prepares himself to play nice with the cheeky little vampire spawn that practically hangs off his son and flirts with him every chance he gets, or perhaps the very sweet, very strong tiefling that almost dislocated his arm giving him a handshake.

instead, he comes face to face with the guy that stormed past him earlier muttering about blood and intestines, glaring at him with murderous intent that outpaces their soon-to-be dead sister, somehow covered in blood first thing in the morning. the same guy who threatened to put him back in the ocean if he didnt quit insulting wylls entire being the other night. the entire time his son is gently holding hands with the wretched bhaalspawn who only agreed to save ulders life because, if they didnt, wyll would be sad.

and wyll, aforementioned sweetest man on the continent, keeps smiling and saying things like “arent they wonderful, this is the person that helped free me from mizora and save you, i dont believe ive ever met anyone to be so kind to me,” while the dark urge silently murder-glares at ulder all the while, promising death should he ever hurt his wonderful son again. ulder has to watch these two adorably dance and declare sweet things to each other as if durge wasnt just imagining ulder as a splat of gore on the stones underfoot seconds prior.

and then he has to watch them get married, with all their slightly mad friends in tow. it is a glorious disaster.

[kunosoura]

BG3 companions ranked based on how much I buy their bisexuality

Fits the character naturally:

Laezel. Easiest Kinsey 3 of the bunch. She’s dtf with anyone who impresses her and is willing to buy in to her dynamic. No further explanation needed.

Halsin. Man has zero hangups. He’d fuck a plastic bag if it was capable of reading Polysecure.

I buy it with an asterisk:

Shadowheart. Has a trans girl ex. She’s sorted her sexuality shit out probably a nonzero amount at her ex’s expense. Her Girl Best Friends thing on the selunite route feels weird for a straight romance but whatever.

Wyll - the slow dance feels like it was originally concepted as a thing for a straight romance, but I can fully believe it as an aspect of courtly life he was raised in and hasn’t really had a chance to participate in since his exile, even if leading a guy isn’t how it went when he was young. Wouldn’t be surprised if I learned he was originally written as a straight guy, though.

Wish it was more written:

Gale - he kind of has the feel of a bisexual in theory guy who likes the idea of being bisexual and talks about finding either super feminine or super masculine guys attractive but almost only dates women. I feel like what we got in game could have been interesting as a “this-is-my-first-serious-time-with-a-guy” thing in the shadow of his disastrous and shady relationship with Mystra.

Minthara - her romance with men and women should not be identical. Should have been an uphill battle to convince her to respect a male lover. She’s a drow’s drow except for having been coerced into forsaking Lolth. Cmon

Ultimately I don’t disagree, but:

Karlach. Do you know that post going around about how Brienne of Tarth would be a 100% straight girl who triple checked that she wasn’t attracted to women because things would be monumentally easier if she were and Jaime’s the Kinsey 5 in the relationship. That’s sort of where I put Karlach. I dunno. She kinda seems like she just wants to lad out with a guy. Idk I don’t doubt she was always intended to be a bisexual option I just feel like she fits into that little archetypal niche of “straight masc woman everyone including her thought would be a lesbian but it just didn’t shake out that way”. I don’t hold this one against the writers because it’s much more me than them but still.

That’s a gay man:

Astarion. I’ve said it before and I’ll stand by it: the much braver and more interesting version of BG3 has him dumping any woman he’s dating after coming clean about using sex to manipulate her, then becoming unavailable for romance unless you destroy his self worth and ascend him.

[not-so-lost-after-all]

What do you think of Dadstarion? I don't know, but it's surprising how constantly hated and controversial it is for the Astarion and BG3 fandom. Many Astarion fans still act as if it's the ultimate affront to his character or a breeding/pregnancy kink some horny fans are projecting onto him because he must really hate children as he approves of being mean to them like telling Yenna to fuck off (as if he doesn't also approve of giving her food or other instances like saving Vanra) or because it's something that will infringe on his freedom forevermore. Or that you are sending an awful message for doing this to him because he's queer and you'd be forcing a queer man into a heteronormative dynamic. Also, the projection thing can be argued in both instances? Most of those who hate this headcanon are childfree themselves irl so you could also accuse them of projecting their own lifestyle preferences and belief onto Astarion.

Meanwhile others just come up with chronically online takes that it's a character trait that is stolen from Wyll as he's the only one who expresses the desire to have a family so you may also be a racist for not romancing him instead. I see Gale fans who like him as a dad are also now being accused of the same thing. Saying Astarion can be romantic to his partner will also result in you getting accused of stealing character traits from Wyll, by the way.

Like, dhampirs are very very rare and I don't see the topic coming up between Tav and Astarion but if it accidentally happens…I also don't think Astarion would just abandon Tav and their kid and would try to be a good dad. Or maybe I'm the delusional one. Ultimately though it's a harmless headcanon and it's not like it's something anyone truly believes is going to happen canonically in a future game. If anything we'll have some horny, single Astarion that's similar to act 1 or AA as canon.

Hello, Nonnie, and thank you for this interesting ask. I'm mostly staying out of the fandom drama, so while I knew about the "stealing from Wyll" takes and saw a few myself, that take about heteronormativity is new to me. Of course both is BS. Wyll is a family man, yes, but you can say the same about Halsin and Gale certainly sounds like someone who'd like to have a child in the future, whether bio or adopted, and Karlach would most likely give it a shot once her problem is solved. And try to tell any reasonable queer person that they shouldn't have kids because it's a straight thing to do and they should just support the gays instead. Just try it, guys, I'm waiting.

As for him hating kids, it annoys me too whenever I see such takes. It's surface level reading and seeing only what they want to see (as you've mentioned, he approves helping children too). He finds traumatazing Mayrina funny but that's not about her being pregnant. When he finds out that the Gur kids are undead, he's nonchalant about it but that's in character for him to wear a mask and some people wrongly take what he says at face value again. He'd prefer not to see this shame of his again but that doesn't mean he doesn't care.

And lastly about dadstarion. I'm childfree and wouldn't be a kind mother but I like the idea of Astarion as a father. I don't generally like the concept of the undead having children but I like that for him as a fuck you to Cazador and everything he took from Star. Not as a breeding kink projected onto him, no. Would he be a good father? Well, he'd be anxious and loving, I believe. He'd think him abandoning Tav and the kid would be for the best but would never actually do that. Of course there'll never be a little silver haired dhampir in canon, it's a fringe lore and Stephen Rooney wasn't even aware of.

[jamscandraw]

Oh! If Murph played baldurs gate, do you think they'd romance anyone? What would their run look like if they played?

If Murph ever played D&D or BG3 they'd be a power gamer for sure. Not a complete minmaxer but definitely a chronic multiclasser that comes up with insane combinations that work in very broken ways for massive damage. they do not care about being the party face when they can just initiate another combat encounter. Probably plays a sorlock or padlock build of some kind, although I can also see them enjoying bardbarian

As for who they'd romance, I have an idea in my head but I wanna know who you guys think they'd go for lol (show your working in the replies/tags if you want)

[vividiana]

chapter 3

pairing: Astarion x f!Durge · word count: 7k

rating: M for now, will change to E (18+)

tags: modern AU, witness protection, strangers to friends to lovers (see AO3 for a more exhaustive list)

summary: It’s been over a year since Eve had to uproot her life and assume a new identity—anything to distance herself from the past she wishes she could forget. When an erratic, if oddly charming, newcomer stumbles into her place of work, she recognizes something familiar within him and the two can’t seem to stay away from each other. But Eve is not the only one running from her past.

An alternative, modern take on the Dark Urge x Astarion romance, filled with friendship, secrets, healing, and ABBA.

a/n: this chapter was supposed to be like 5k tops OOPS. anyways, I can finally stop referring to Astarion as the "white-haired man" or "Note Guy!" 🥳 also, we get some ABBA, as promised! hope you enjoy 🧡

chapter-specific cw: heavy drinking, vomiting, references to past abuse/controlling behavior

previous chapter · read on AO3 · dividers

It’s been over a month since her first appointment with Halsin and Eve somehow managed to drag herself back to that office every Monday. At least it made Wyll happy. Following his advice, she did tell Halsin about her reaction to his assessment, and he assured her that they didn’t have to return to the subject before she was ready. Instead, they spent the last few sessions exploring Eve’s beliefs about herself and developing some more practical tools to deal with her anxiety (which she was reluctantly grateful for, as much as she’d hate to admit it).

Outside of work, she was more busy than ever. With the school year being over, Lae’zel had a lot more time on her hands and was always coming up with Fun Summer Activities for them to do. This mostly boiled down to various forms of physical exertion, which Eve bravely endured. The things we do for love.

After coming back from yet another hike, Eve collapses on the couch, bitching and moaning like she just crossed the entire country on foot. Lae’zel, however, seems to have endless reserves of energy, because she immediately heads to the kitchen to make them both protein shakes. She places one of them on the coffee table next to Eve, which she acknowledges with a light groan of gratitude.

“Don’t be dramatic. It was only seven miles,” Lae’zel says before she takes a sip of her shake.

“Yeah, it was also eighty-five degrees.”

“It would have been cooler if you woke up at six like I suggested.”

Eve doesn’t grace that with a response. She just watches as Lae downs her drink and starts to pace restlessly around the apartment.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m bored,” Lae says absentmindedly. Then, she stops in her tracks and looks at Eve with an odd glint in her eyes. “We should throw a party,” she says, before resuming her pacing.

This finally prompts Eve to sit up, against the collective protest from her muscles. She observes Lae’zel warily and says:

“I’m sorry, I think the heat is getting to me. I could swear I just heard you say you want to throw a party.”

“Correct.” 

“Are you on drugs?”

“It might be nice to see everyone before I leave for Córdoba.”

“Who is everyone?”

“You know, friends.” Lae gestures vaguely.

“I’m gonna need names,” Eve says. “And for the love of God, please sit down, you’re freaking me out.”

Lae’zel finally comes to a halt and sits on the armchair. She looks almost embarrassed, which is worrying in its own way.

“Who are these friends you’re talking about?”

“Wyll…?” Lae offers weakly.

“Wyll is not your friend, you met him one time ages ago when he came in here for the assessment. He’s not even my friend, it’s literally his job to spend time with me. So who else?”

“People from work.”

“What, like the biology teacher who has a crush on you? What was his name again?”

“Rath. And he doesn’t have a crush on me.”

“Sure.”

“Also Dammon.”

“Okay, that I can understand, you two actually hang out sometimes. Who else?”

“Zevlor.”

“Who the fuck is Zevlor? I have never heard that name from your mouth.”

“He’s my accountability partner at the gym.”

“Accountability partner…” Eve sighs, massaging her temples. “Lae, be for fucking real: is this about Jen?”

“You’re right, we could also invite Jen,” Lae’zel says with feigned excitement as if this has never occurred to her before. “That’s a great idea. You’re so smart.”

“And you’re a terrible liar.” 

“Fine,” Lae’zel sighs, exasperated. “Of course this is about her, who else?”

“I don’t get it, you already see each other a couple times a week. And you text, like, all the time.”

“Yes, but…” Lae’zel drops her gaze in a way that Eve would characterize as bashful, if she didn’t know any better. “Texting is nice, but when I see her, we don’t really talk, we’re busy with other things. And I would just like to… get to know her better.”

A foreign sort of warmth spreads through Eve’s chest as she listens to her friend describe what can only be considered a crush. Like a champ, she fights down the urge to yell I knew it!

“I see,” Eve starts gently, as if this version of Lae’zel were a precious fawn who could be easily startled by any sudden movement or snapping twig. “Have you considered asking her on a date?”

“I don’t do dates, Eve,” Lae’zel huffs with a determination that is likely meant to convince herself more than anything. “But if we throw a party, she will be just one of many guests, so it won’t be as obvious that I…” She trails off and shakes her head. “It has to happen before I go home. I’ll be gone for a month and I’m worried that if sex is all we have, then she’ll just find someone else to replace me. And that will be the end of it.”

“We can’t have that,” Eve says with a soft smile. “A party it is, then.”

“A party it is.” Lae’zel smiles back, her confidence returning. “I’ll need your help. As you pointed out, I don’t actually know that many people.”

“Me neither, but I’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”

“You should invite Note Guy.”

“I– Uh– Well, I guess if I find no other alternatives, then I might. For you. Just to make sure we have enough guests to make this party believable.” 

“Of course.” Lae’zel nods sagely. “No other reason.”

As Eve heads to work on Tuesday, it’s with an unusual sort of determination. She’s on a mission.

When it comes to party guests, Lakrissa is the obvious choice. Although they have never spent time together outside of work, Eve genuinely likes her, and they share this unique sense of camaraderie, being the only constants in the ever-changing array of waitstaff. A lot of people would join the team at the Blushing Mermaid only to quit after a couple months, or even weeks, but the two of them have held their post ever since Eve got the job a year and a half ago. She is not sure if it’s a testament to their determination or desperation—but either way, she finds Lakrissa’s presence grounding amidst all the chaos. 

Plus, Lakrissa seems to have a bustling social life, always sharing stories about her nights out, so Eve decides to extend the invitation to some of her friends. 

“Amazing!” she gasps when Eve chats her up in the kitchen. She pulls out her phone and starts typing rapidly. “I’ll text Kaldani and Rikka. Oh, and Danis too! He’ll probably bring his fiancé, is that alright?” 

“That’s perfect.”

On a whim, Eve also invites one of the line cooks, Minsc. He is a truly puzzling yet charming man with a thick Slavic accent—Eve is not sure what kind of Slavic exactly, because Minsc never talks about himself. He does, however, talk at length about his hamster Boo, to whoever will listen. He is a bit odd, to be sure, but he always seems to be in a good mood and equipped with a bottomless arsenal of anecdotes, making him the perfect guest.

After securing at least six new people for their party, Eve is pulled back into the whirlwind of clients and orders. Like clockwork, at 4 p.m. she finds herself carrying a plate of chicken tenders to the man at booth four.

“Hello Sir, what’s new?” she asks when she brings him the food.

“Thy wheel of fate turns ever to the light,” he says solemnly.

“Oh, that’s beautiful. Is it from a poem?”

“No.”

Eve waits for him to elaborate, but instead he picks up the utensils and starts cutting the chicken into little pieces. 

“Alright.” She shrugs. “Enjoy your meal.” 

“I will.”

Eve turns around and smiles when she sees that Note Guy has just arrived.

She was worried when he didn’t show up for a couple days after The Day When Everything That Could Have Gone Wrong, Went Wrong. It was a sudden change of routine that Eve felt personally to blame for, even if she realized how irrational and self-centered that was.

But then, one Friday, he came back, and it was as if that night had never happened. He was just as friendly as before, and she was once again in the right headspace to return his energy.

The days when he would come in felt lighter somehow. He was easy to talk to, even if their conversations were entirely surface-level. He quickly became her second-favorite regular—after all, the enigmatic Chicken Tenders Man would always have a special place in her heart. The two of them gave her something to look forward to during her otherwise arduous shifts. 

It’s no different this time, the two of them engaging in the now familiar banter as she takes his order.

Shortly after, Eve is heading over with his food, when Lakrissa stops her just a couple feet away from his table to ask if she should bring anything to the party. They briefly discuss the logistics before returning to work, Note Guy donning a curious smile when she finally walks up to him. 

“Hosting a party?” he asks.

“Yes. Well– It’s more of an elaborate excuse for my roommate to hang out with her crush, who she insists is not actually her crush.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she wants to spend more time with her, but she convinced herself that she doesn’t do romance, so she can’t just ask her out. It has to be a whole thing.”

“Naturally,” he says, amused. “And you’re organizing it?”

“Well, we both are, but I guess I was tasked with recruiting more guests, since we rarely do these types of things, it will be sort of like a patchwork situation…” 

Eve trails off once she realizes she’s rambling. 

Why are you telling him all these details?

“That sounds fun.”

Eve can’t tell if he genuinely thinks that, or if he’s just trying to be polite. There is a moment of silence, as they regard one another, her thoughts racing.

Ask him. 

Isn’t that weird though? We barely know each other.

If he thinks it’s weird, he can say no. Just ask him, goddammit.

“Anyways, enjoy your meal,” she blurts out before turning on her heel and walking away, cursing herself.

Good job.

When she eventually comes back to check up on him, she is still a bit embarrassed by her impressive inability to play it cool.

“Everything alright over here?”

“It’s perfect,” he says, as if their BLT were the most delicious meal known to man. Doubtful, but she appreciates the enthusiasm.

“Great, love to hear it. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, just the check, please, when you have a moment.”

Eve nods, ready to turn away, but then something inside her shifts. 

Fuck it.

“So um– About the party. I was just thinking that if you’re not doing anything Friday night, you could drop by if you wanted. It’s nothing crazy, just like ten or twelve people at our apartment. Could be a good way to meet some people since you’re new around here. No pressure, of course, I know this might be kinda weird cause we don’t really–”

“I’d love that,” he says with a genuineness that both reassures her and somehow makes her more nervous.

“Oh! Perfect. We’d love to have you. Um– It starts at seven, this Friday, like I said, and uh– Here, I’ll write down the address for you,” she says, fishing out her pen and notepad.

“You could also text it to me.”

She freezes for a moment and then can’t help but laugh as she puts the notepad away. The tension in her body eases along with the laughter and she feels more comfortable now in this familiar back-and-forth.

“Damn, that was smooth,” she admits, grabbing her phone instead.

“Yeah, I’m pretty proud of that one,” he says with a delightful grin.

Eve creates a new contact and hands the phone to him. When he returns it, she sees he saved his number as Astarion 🔥. She reads the name out loud, enjoying how it rolls off her tongue. 

“I’ve never met an Astarion before, it’s a pretty name. But why would you put fire next to it?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” he asks, flashing her his most charming smile.

Eve rolls her eyes and replaces the 🔥 with 🤓.

“I think this is more fitting,” she says, showing him the screen.

Astarion’s grin falters, eyes widening in genuine shock.

“I’ve never been more insulted in my life.”

“Why?” She checks the screen, then places it next to his face as her eyes move back and forth between the two. “It’s pretty accurate. You have the same glasses.”

“Hardly. And my teeth look nothing like that.”

Eve chuckles as she pockets her phone.

“What’s so funny?” he asks with a deep frown.

“It’s just a silly thing to get so defensive about.”

“I’m not defensive,” he scoffs. “It’s just–”

“I’ll be back with your check,” she cuts him off with a sweet smile, delighted by the annoyed huff he lets out as she starts walking away.

Eve spends the next three days dreading the consequences of her actions. 

Playful banter with a customer is one thing, but it’s something else entirely to have him in her home, on equal footing, with no predetermined structure and rehearsed pleasantries to fall back on. Eve is not sure how she feels about it, other than being utterly ridden with anxiety, though that’s nothing new.

On the upside, the apartment has never looked more pristine—a joint effort born out of the desire to make a good impression on their respective Special Guests, which neither of the women acknowledge out loud.

Suddenly, sooner than Eve would like, it’s the end of her Friday shift and she has two hours to pick up the final supplies for the party, make herself look presentable, and not smell like fries.

When she gets home, Lae’zel is finishing up her extensive hair routine. She’s wearing a boxy cropped tee and black bike shorts—nothing flashy, though Eve supposes the outfit is still more party-appropriate than Lae’s usual tracksuit.

Lae’zel takes the grocery bags off her hands and begins to unpack them, freezing when she pulls out an excessively large bottle of diet cherry Coke, which Eve put into her cart last-minute.

“What did you buy this for? This is a Pepsi household.”

“You never know, our guests might prefer Coke,” Eve says evasively before darting into the bathroom.

She hops into the shower and washes her freshly-dyed hair. Lae helped her with it last night after they both decided that her roots had gotten out of control and the intended mauve pink had washed out into an odd, pale shade of orange. 

When she makes it back to her room, she spends the next fifteen minutes trapped in a purgatory of indecision, before eventually settling for a sleeveless burgundy mock neck top and a pair of distressed baggy jeans. She puts on some green gel eyeliner and then wipes it off disgruntled, only to apply it again minutes later. After fiddling with her hair for way too long, she eventually puts the upper half of it into a bun, the rest brushing softly against her shoulders.

She almost jumps when the buzzer rings at 7 p.m. sharp.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Astarion. From the restaurant.”

“Thank you for specifying,” she chuckles as she buzzes him in. “Come on up.”

Her chest is tight with nerves as she lingers in the hallway. Finally, there is a light knock and something odd happens in Eve’s brain the moment she opens the door and sees him. For a second, all she can do is stare.

Astarion is wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up and the top buttons undone, tucked into a pair of white wide-leg pants. It seems he opted for contacts today, because the familiar round glasses are gone, replaced by a pair of Lennon shades pushed up atop his orchestrated disarray of white curls.

“Hi,” he says with an awkward handwave, snapping her out of her stupor. 

She notices then the silver rings adorning his fingers, his well-groomed nails painted black. Eve suddenly feels very self-conscious about her torn jeans and bitten nails.

Before she gets a chance to respond, she hears Lae’zel’s voice from behind her:

“You’re early, Note Guy.”

Astarion checks his watch, brows furrowed.

“I thought you said seven.”

“No one ever shows up on time to parties,” Lae’zel says, “which means you’re early.”

“I see.” And then he cocks his head curiously when he says: “Wait, did you call me Note G–”

“Astarion, this is my roommate, Lae’zel,” Eve rushes in. “Lae’zel, this is Astarion.” She places emphasis on his actual name as she glares at her friend.

“I know,” Lae says and takes Astarion’s outstretched hand, gripping it harder than necessary. “Eve has told me a lot about you.”

“Has she now?” he asks, clearly amused. 

“Yes, I heard you’re rude to waitstaff.”

There is a moment of tense silence during which Eve wishes for the ground to come up and swallow her whole. But then Astarion pulls a bottle out of his tote bag and presents it to them with a weak smile.

“I brought gin.” 

“Great, come in, please.” Eve takes the bottle and beckons him inside. “Lae, could you check on the appetizers?”

“I don’t have to, they’re done.”

“Great, but could you please check? Just to make sure?”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes and heads to the kitchen, muttering something in Spanish under her breath.

Eve gives Astarion a very brief tour of the premises: shoes off (yes, ma’am), here’s the bathroom (got it), there’s the balcony if you want to smoke (I quit). Once that’s out of the way, she finds herself utterly at a loss for how to proceed. Perhaps Astarion senses that, because he looks around the empty apartment and offers:

“Can I help you with anything?”

“I think we’ve mostly got it covered–”

“You can be in charge of the music,” Lae’zel says, rejoining them with trays of food. She turns the TV on and navigates to device pairing. “But keep in mind that your Bluetooth privileges will be revoked if you fail,” she warns Astarion as she hands him the remote.

“I won’t let you down,” he says solemnly with an exaggerated salute. He turns to Eve with wide eyes, a soft smile tugging at his lips as if to say she’s fun! When he’s done setting up, he asks: “Any requests?”

They both shake their heads. 

“Okay, well, this is a lot of pressure.” He laughs nervously. “Guess I’ll just queue things up as I go. Ummm– Maybe let’s start with something calmer and go from there… This should work.”

Sounds that Eve can only describe as funky fill their living room. She doesn’t recognize the title of the song nor the name of the artist when they show up on the TV.

“I like it,” she says with a nod after a couple moments.

Astarion seems visibly relieved.

“Lae’zel, what’s the verdict?” he asks. 

“It will do for now.”

“That’s the spirit!” he says with a wide grin. “So what sort of music do you usually listen to?”

“I like eighties rock,” Lae’zel says.

“That makes sense, somehow. And you?” he asks, turning to Eve.

“I don’t really listen to music.”

“What do you mean?” Astarion asks, sounding genuinely baffled. 

“I don’t know,” she says, suddenly feeling embarrassed, like she failed some secret social test. “I guess I’ll just listen to whatever is playing, but I don’t really seek it out on my own. What about you?”

Apparently, Astarion listens to everything, which doesn’t exactly overlap with her nothing, but they somehow manage to keep the conversation going for a bit until Lakrissa mercifully shows up with her four friends. 

They all seem lovely and completely ignore Eve’s earlier insistence that they didn’t have to bring anything. Danis’ fiancé (Becky, was it? Eve already forgot half their names) hands her a baking dish of brownies, which Eve eyes cautiously.

“Are these…?”

“No, nothing funny in there!” the woman rushes to explain. “Well, except for a whole lot of chocolate and some raspberries. I just love baking! Danis and I are saving up to open a cat café.”

Shortly after, they’re joined by Dammon and Rath, followed by Minsc, who shows up with sunflowers.

“Eve, my friend, these are for you!” he bellows excitedly.

“Aw, you didn’t have to,” she says as she takes the ridiculously large bouquet off his hands.

“Oh, but I did have to! You are much like a sunflower, you see. Always brightening up Minsc’s day at work. It’s the least Minsc could do.”

Eve is not sure how exactly she brightens up his day, since they rarely interact and she is always in a sour mood at work. But the sincerity in Minsc’s tone leaves no space for disagreement.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “Boo helped pick the perfect bouquet.”

“I love it, thank you so much! And how did he help you, exactly?”

“Minsc hovered his hand above the flower display until Boo squeaked. It was much like a claw machine, where Minsc’s hand was the claw, and Boo was the child with a quarter.”

“You make a fantastic team then,” is all Eve can think to say to that as she nods thoughtfully and invites him inside.

The party slowly settles into a comfortable rhythm as people chat, eat, and drink, all to the sounds of Astarion’s improvised playlist. Eve is thoroughly relieved that despite not knowing one another, their guests manage to mingle and enjoy each other’s company.

At one point, Lae’zel pulls her aside to say:

“Eve, there is a rodent in our home.” 

She points to Minsc and sure enough, there is Boo, perched contentedly on the man’s muscular shoulder, looking comically tiny in comparison. 

“Oh that’s just Boo,” Eve explains with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Don’t worry, I heard he’s very well-trained. He won a bunch of gold medals at the Hamster Olympics.”

“That’s not a thing that exists.”

“Maybe not. But Minsc’s anecdotes are always so fun and detailed, I just don’t have the heart to fact-check him.”

She leaves Lae’zel confused and heads to the kitchen to fish out her designated drink for the night from the back of the fridge. It’s an overpriced craft IPA from a local brewery, because if she’s only going to have one, she might as well splurge. A single drink is all she ever allows herself, painfully aware that she cannot afford to let her guard down, lest she starts openly spilling information about her life that only a select few are privy to.

Jen shows up fashionably late, a fact that Lae’zel seems both relieved and distressed by. And yet, it is not too long before the two of them are off in a corner together, laughing and completely ignoring the commotion around them. 

Eve, on the other hand, finds herself pulled into a discussion about movies, which shortly leads to her and Astarion both freaking out about the third installment of the Knives Out series, the title of which was just announced a couple weeks ago.

A loud chime erupts from Lakrissa’s phone and she pulls it out of her pocket.

“It’s BeReal time!” she announces, angling her phone to take a selfie with the group. 

But before she can take the picture, Eve grabs the nearest chip bowl and excuses herself, rushing to the kitchen. She runs into Jen and Lae, the latter mixing their drinks, the former studying the space curiously.

“What’s this about?” Jen asks, pointing to a white board on their fridge.

Aside from more mundane notes like what kitchen staples they’re running low on, the board houses a list, sectioned off in the corner, that reads:

ghost

poet

ghost poet

philosophy professor (tenured)

retired living statue

PI

alien studying our culture

“It’s about Eve’s old man,” Lae’zel says, looking over her shoulder.

“He is not my old man,” Eve clarifies and then regales Jen with the tales of her favorite regular, making sure to quote some of his signature lines that he always refuses to elaborate on.

“We have a running list of theories about who he might be,” Lae’zel adds.

Jen hums curiously, then grabs a marker and adds another item to the bottom of the list: god of death(?)

“What do you mean?” Eve asks.

“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling.” Jen shrugs.

“You say the weirdest things sometimes,” Lae’zel says, shaking her head, as she hands her the drink.

“And you love it.” Jen takes the cup and turns on her heel to go join a conversation between Lakrissa’s friends.

Lae just stands there for a moment, staring blankly ahead.

“Well done,” Eve says, patting her on the shoulder.

When she returns to the living room, she catches Astarion’s gaze and he comes up to her, phone in one hand, drink in the other.

“There you are! I was thinking I could put on some Chappell Roan to liven up the crowd. What do you think, Eve?” he asks before taking a very generous sip of his gin and tonic.

“Who is Chappell Roan?”

Astarion drops his phone, gasping dramatically as his free hand clutches at his chest.

“You heathen! You did not just ask me that.”

Eve can’t help but laugh at his theatrics.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“You’ve definitely heard some of her songs,” Rath chimes in. “Do you know Pink Pony Club?”

“Oh, that one! I’m sorry, I have nothing against her, but if I have to listen to that song one more time, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“Excuse you, it’s a great song,” Astarion mutters as he picks his phone off the ground and checks for damage.

“It might be, but it gets so overplayed on the radio, and I have to listen to it at work, which tends to ruin a lot of songs for me.”

“Hmmm… Okay, that’s fair,” he decides, graciously. “So I’m assuming Good Luck, Babe! is off the table, too. Let’s see…” He scrolls on his phone until he’s satisfied. “Oh! This will do. Eve, your task for this weekend is to listen to this album and let me know what you think. Where is your phone?”

She opens Spotify and hands the phone to him. 

“Why do you have Spotify Premium if you don’t listen to music?”

“Podcasts,” she explains. “And ambient noise.”

“You’re fascinating,” he says, clicking something. “Here, I saved it for you.”

The song that’s currently playing is mellowing out and Astarion hands the phone back to her before looking around the room.

“Jen!” he exclaims, pointing at the woman in question with a surprising level of familiarity.

She turns in their direction.

“Huh?”

“You look like you might know the lyrics. I’m counting on you to sing along.”

“What is that supposed to–”

But then the song starts playing and Jen’s eyes widen with excitement as she laughs.

She way a playboy, Brigitte Bardot–

“That’s a weird way to out me, but you’re not wrong!”

She showed me things I didn’t know–

Astarion leans in towards Eve, brushing lightly against her side.

“I think she outed herself when she was kissing Lae’zel on the couch,” he whispers into her ear. “But what do I know?”

She did it right there, out on the deck–

Astarion pulls away to sing the next line in unison with Jen:

“Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck!”

Apparently everyone but Eve is quite fond of Chappell Roan, because more and more people start getting up and singing along, though the only person who manages to hit all the notes is Jen. During the chorus, she gets up onto the coffee table and dances, looking absolutely ethereal. Eve finds herself entranced as she watches her sway and sing, but it is Lae’zel who looks like the whole world just blurred around her and only Jen remains in focus.

The people demand more dance songs and the DJ is happy to deliver. Eve dims the lights and then leans against the wall, sipping her beer and watching with amusement as the guests lose their minds over a song that apparently holds no small amount of nostalgia. 

Coming out of my cage and I’ve been doing just fine–

Astarion catches her gaze and pushes past Dammon and Lae’zel to get to her. 

Just as she puts the bottle up to her lips for another sip, he grabs it and deposits it on a low table beside her.

“Excuse you–” she protests, however weakly.

“May I have this dance?” he asks, putting his hand out as he bows with an exaggerated flourish.

“You’re ridiculous.” She laughs, hoping the blush in her cheeks is not as obvious in the low light. “Sorry to disappoint yet again, but I can’t dance. Comes with being a heathen.”

He smiles, rising back to his full height, looking at her curiously like she is a puzzle he hopes to solve one day.

“You don’t need to know how to dance to enjoy it,” he assures her. “You can just jump around and sing along, and it’s great.”

“But I don’t know the lyrics!” she yells over the people singing what she assumes to be the chorus.

“They’re super repetitive, you’ll catch on!”

And so, with no arguments left, Eve takes Astarion’s hand and lets him pull her into the flurry of laughing, dancing bodies, yelling in unison:

“STARTED OUT WITH A KISS, HOW DID IT END UP LIKE THIS?”

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS,” Astarion shouts and then points at Eve in a your turn gesture.

“IT WAS ONLY A KISS!” they sing together.

Once the song ends, some people go to sit down, but as soon as the next one starts, they change their mind, because of course you can’t not dance to that. And so it goes on, Astarion queueing things up on the spot, balancing his musical responsibilities with making sure his glass is never empty. He intersperses throwback hits with more recent songs, making it impossible to catch a breath.

It’s almost midnight by the time their collective energy fizzles out and then they’re back to sitting around, chatting, and drinking, utterly spent. 

Eve is listening, captivated, to another of Minsc’s anecdotes of doubtful veracity, when she gets distracted by Astarion’s agitated voice. He is sitting on the floor, engrossed in some heated discussion with Danis, and he has been getting increasingly louder and more blunt with each passing minute.

“What do you mean it comes with the job?! Harassment? Oh for fuck’s sake, you can’t be serious!”

She doesn’t hear what Danis is trying to tell him, but Astarion shortly cuts him off:

“Just because they’re famous doesn’t mean anyone is entitled to their time and attention 24/7!”

Eve is not sure what they’re talking about exactly, but she can’t shake the impression that there is something odd under the layer of irritation, like this matter is important to him on more than just the ideological level.

“Did someone knock?” Lakrissa asks, prompting Eve to look away from Astarion.

“Huh?” 

But then there is a louder pounding at the door that cuts through the music, followed by the unmistakable voice of their upstairs neighbor:

“OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR.”

“Hi, Aradin,” Eve says sweetly when she grants him his wish. “Would you like to join us?”

“What I would like is to go to sleep. It’s one in the fucking morning, Eve, don’t make me call the cops.”

“Alright alright. We’ll be quiet.”

She closes the door unceremoniously in his face, then asks Astarion to turn down the music. He mumbles something incomprehensive, searching for his phone, but eventually complies.

Most guests decide to take this as their cue to leave, thanking Eve and Lae profusely for the invitation. Eve hugs people goodbye, but Lae just waves her hand from the couch, too invested in the hushed conversation she’s having with Jen.

Danis gets up from the floor, stumbling a little, and Astarion tries to follow. He props himself on a chair but loses his balance, the chair flipping over and clattering to the floor. With the lights on, the music quiet, and the crowd dispersed, his unfortunate state quickly becomes apparent. 

“Are you okay?” Eve asks as she rushes to pull him up from the floor.

He manages to stand up, swaying a little, his hand grabbing her shoulder for balance.

“Sorry ‘bout that…” he slurs as he takes his hand away.

“You can go lay down in my room if you’re not feeling well,” she offers.

He barks out a laugh.

“How forward of you.”

“Yup, okay, I think it’s time to go home.”

With Minsc’s help, she gathers Astarion’s things and manages to lead him outside and to her car.

“Do you wish for Minsc to come with you?” the man asks after he deposits Astarion onto her passenger seat and buckles him in.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you. And thank you again for the beautiful flowers, they made my day.”

“Mission accomplished, then,” Minsc says with a wide grin.

They exchange their goodbyes and Eve gets inside, the small space already reeking of alcohol. Astarion is leaning against the window with his eyes closed. 

“What’s your address?” she asks as she starts the car and plugs her phone in.

“124– Wait. 120–” He groans. “Something like that.”

“Cool. Do you have your license on you?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Astarion, please don’t make me go through your pockets.”

He groans again before fishing out his wallet from the tote bag and handing it to her.

Eve searches for his license, finding instead a non-driver ID. She doesn’t particularly want to pry, but it only takes one glance to learn quite a lot about him. Astarion Ancunín, the ID informs her. He somehow managed to look good in the photo, which Eve supposes shouldn’t come as a surprise. He was born only four years before her, on June 21st. 

Eve reads the date again, then looks at the screen on the center console of the car.

06/22/2024. 1:21 AM. 

A bittersweet feeling settles in her chest as she looks up at Astarion, who seems to have fallen asleep against the window. It’s almost flattering in a way, that he would choose her company, though a part of her wishes he could have spent his birthday with someone closer, not just some random waitress and her patchwork of friends. And yet, she is glad that he didn’t have to be alone. After all, he seemed like he was enjoying himself, even if this conclusion to the night is less than ideal.

Eve returns her attention to the document in her hand, and the address she was looking for in the first place. She types it into the navigation and notes with relief that it’s only a 12-minute drive across town. 

Astarion remains quiet as she pulls out of the parking lot. 

But it only takes two minutes or so before he peels himself off the window and sits up, informing her in a pained voice:

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

Oh, fuck me.

Since she can’t easily pull over at the moment, Eve reaches back to grab one of her reusable bags from the backseat and hands it to him.

Astarion bends forward and clutches the bag tightly as an unfortunate sound erupts from his throat, the sour smell of vomit immediately filling the car. Eve rolls all the windows down, the fresh air bringing a faint sort of relief.

It continues for a while before Astarion rests his forehead on the dashboard and groans:

“Fuck, you must think I’m a mess.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I jusss– Guess I don’t really know my limits.”

“So I take it you don’t drink too often, then?”

His body starts to shake and Eve is not entirely sure if he’s laughing or crying.

“No... He never let me. Didn’t want the alcohol to dull the pain.” 

Eve grips the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white as she glances to the side, a raw mixture of pain and understanding in her eyes. But Astarion is not looking at her as he cradles his face in his hands and chokes out an apology:

“I’m so sorry, Eve.”

They stop at a red light and to distract him, Eve grabs her phone and opens Spotify.

“What’s your favorite band?”

“Bah,” he mumbles against his palms.

“Bah?” she asks, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

“AAAA–bah.”

“Oh, okay,” she says and starts typing into the search bar.

“A-B–”

“Yes, I got it.”

“B-A.”

She selects the top album that comes up, and the speakers hum to life as the first song opens with a piano slide. Astarion lifts himself ever so slightly to look at the screen in the center of the console.

“900 weeks on the UK Albums Chart,” he mumbles, sounding surprisingly coherent all of a sudden. “Longest running top-100 album of all time.”

“Hm,” Eve hums noncommittally, unsure what to add.

“21 times Platinum as of this January.” 

“Oh, wow. What does that even mean, 21 times Platinum?”

“It means it fucking slaps.” And to emphasize his point, he throws up yet again.

Anybody could be that guy,

Night is young and the music’s high–

The navigation says 6 minutes, but Eve hopes to get there sooner, given how empty the roads are at this hour.

“Only se-ven-teeeeen,” Astarion mumbles beside her.

He hums for the remainder of the song, somehow managing to stay on pitch. 

Eve doesn’t recognize the next track. She feels her muscles tense once the chorus comes on.

Breaking up is never easy, I know,

But I have to go.

Knowing me, knowing you,

It’s the best I can do–

His face flashes before her eyes. The look of pure disbelief when they took him away. The betrayal. The disappointment.

“After everything I’ve done for you–”

Eve skips to the next song, glad to hear no protests from Astarion. She takes a deep breath as she eyes the navigation.

“We’re only two minutes away.”

“Why are you so kind?” he slurs.

Eve’s throat tightens. Kind. Nice. Good. Words that feel like a mistake whenever they are used to describe her. Like a slip of the tongue.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

But even in his drunken stupor, Astarion is too insightful for his own good.

“Not an answer.”

And then, because she knows he won’t remember this conversation come morning, Eve says:

“Because I finally have a choice.”

Astarion hums semi-thoughtfully but, to her relief, doesn’t continue down this line of questioning. 

The navigation informs her she is on the correct street, and that Astarion’s place should be coming up soon. But instead of the apartment buildings she was expecting, it’s a series of single-family houses.

“Your destination is on your right,” the voice informs her.

It’s a small house, all the lights are off. 

“Is this you?” she asks, wondering if she somehow mistyped the address.

But Astarion hums a confirmation when he lifts his head to look out the window. 

Eve pulls into the driveway and helps him get out of the car. She watches patiently as he struggles to fit the key into the door, before finally offering to do it for him.

Once they’re inside, he sways dangerously, and she reaches out to support him, which is apparently a mistake. 

“Don’t touch me,” he barks, and Eve lets go instantly. She stands there, stunned, as she watches him stumble into the living room before collapsing onto the couch with his shoes on.

Eve takes a deep breath and heads to the kitchen to get him a cup of water. When she doesn’t find a medicine cabinet anywhere, she runs back to her car to grab some Advil. 

“You should take this,” she says when she returns, placing the pills on the coffee table by the cup. “Future Astarion will thank you.”

Present Astarion groans his dissent.

“At least take out your contacts?” 

No response this time. 

She sighs as she looks around the space. It’s not at all what she expected his home to look like. Astarion is so expressive when it comes to his clothes and general demeanor, but this—this feels so bland and impersonal. It’s as if he got the house along with all the staging furniture and then didn’t bother to change a single thing about it.

Light snoring reaches her from the couch and Eve decides she has overstayed her welcome. When the door locks behind her, she stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath of the crisp night air in an attempt to ground herself, to drown out the echo of Astarion’s words, running on loop in her mind. 

“He never let me. Didn’t want the alcohol to dull the pain.”

A car drives past and it snaps her back to the present. She makes her way back to poor Gizmo to assess the damage. Astarion’s aim left a lot to be desired, judging from the stains on the floor and car seat which become apparent in the light. She tosses the grocery bag into a bin by his driveway (it’s reusable, sure, but is it that reusable?) and then tries to clean up the rest with some wet wipes, but it’s a losing battle.

When she eventually makes it home, the lights are off in the living room, but she sees a thin slither of light coming from underneath Lae’s door. She walks over, hoping to get all of this off her chest, but as she reaches out to knock, she hears muffled conversation and Lae’zel laughing softly. Despite everything, she can’t help but smile as she takes her hand back. 

a/n: thank you for so much for taking the time to read! 🧡 I would love to hear your thoughts, your comments always brighten my day

taglist: @roguishcat @arzen9 ✨ (lmk if you'd like to be added!)

next chapter · my masterlist

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Interesting takes I've seen so far in the "Makes me feel safe" votes

1) people saying Astarion or Laezel would make them feel safe- I have to assume you mean Act 3 versions of them that are healed and have a close bond with you??? Idk man Act 1 and even 2 versions don't offer much physical or emotional safety 😂 ya'll

2) Haslin comes off as a predator to some of you?? A creep? This startled me. Then I realized his writing was lacking and they shoe-horned in the romance so if you ask him casual questions, like just friendly "any lovers in your life?" It triggers as flirting and then he acts like you guys have been making moon eyes at each other and is surprised if you reject him. He's also Polyamorous and some people see him asking when you're in a relationship already as being gross. It's interesting because my interpretation of Halsin is WAY DIFFERENT but I can also see how some people got there

3) Karlach is a safety net for most people the only thing that de-railed her from winning was two things: her heat issue/engine causing lack of physical safety and then interestingly her Rage. She gets loud when she's mad and hits objects and this can trigger some people. Neat take! Never noticed that

3) Wyll not sweeping the poles surprised me a lot but people seem concerned that he'd take them put on an adventure and get everyone killed monster hunting and that cracked me up a bit

None of these are my opinions I just trolled the tags and comments and saw these angles presented

[marvelhead17]

Baldur's Gate 3 Dribble

Do any of my mutuals play? This game is absolutely addictive, especially when trying to get certain outcomes. If Marvel had come out with anything similar I would have sold my soul for it probably.

In the last week and a half I've played another 70+ hours so I have 389+ hours and do you know how many playthroughs I've completed? Just the one. Only have 36/54 achievements. Some people have played 1500 hours and said they've discovered new things along the way (whether exaggerating or because they've played since it's earlier phases, it's constantly getting patch updates and new content).

I've got another campaign going that is nearly there, but I've been into character creation again and UGH it's just so fun to do the stuff for the Emerald Grove in Act 1.

But also, there so many companions whether you romance them or not, just to do their quests sometimes. And then you can still get good and bad endings for EACH?

Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Gale, Wyll (these first ones are the main ones that you can even play yourself and get g/b endings for), and then Halsin, Jaheira, and Minsc can join you later. I don't know if the last 2 on the list are romanceable, but there are still bad characters you can have that I haven't explored yet.

Gushing about my Tavs below, and possibly spoilers for anyone who hasn't gone beyond Act 1 if you are playing, so just be aware.

In my first playthrough it was Karlach that I romanced, gods what a beautiful Devil. My character is a wood half-elf barbarian named Narriel. And she joined Karlach in Avernus when she had to return, so they look so badass in leather and everything!

Second playthrough, the beefcake and 'my heart' Halsin (no I did not do him in bear form, as tempting as it was, maybe on another run). I stuck with Narriel, (it's my fave name for a fantasy character okay?) as a wood half-elf cleric. This campaign is nearly there and I hate to see it go.

Third playthrough (I tried Astarian with another Tav but lord is that man difficult to please unless you are playing a bad guy) is with Gale. They are a non-binary wizard wood half-elf named Phoenix and they are stunning. I've just arrived in Baldur's Gate and so the final quests begin.

Fourth, I've started a Durge (Dark Urge) Playthrough, a White Dragonborn named Minerva, and it's going good so far for her (I'm not accepting The Urge, because I'm a simp for these characters and they don't like you doing bad shit). I've only completed the Grove so there is much more to go. I'm not quite sure who to romance yet, but I like that idea of Halsin saving her.

Possibly restarting Morgan's story (again, which sucks cause I played nearly 70 hours, realised Astarion was never gonna make a move based on a missing cutscene in Act 1, and now dedicated another 8 hours just to be frustrated) to go for Shadowheart instead, as being a tiefling makes it impossibly difficult for Act 1 to please Astarian without going against your own race, like damn. But also she's not that dark and Shadowheart is so easy to please, in most of my playthroughs she's tried to come on to me in the beginning, so I see how she was the most romanced.

Made a bard named Callon, he is (surprise) a wood half-elf who is starting off with the Lute. Going for Wyll the Blade of Frontiers because I watched Neil Newbon (Astarian's actor) play BG3 and invited the actor to speak about him, and it made me want to try! It's been adorable so far and I'm barely in it yet.

Made a character for fun named Nixie (based off of the All for One DnD YouTube series by Deerstalker Pictures), who is a pink tiefling sorcerer that loves casting firespells and is mischievous. We'll see where she takes us, but without that in mind I've decided to ignore her playthrough so far haha.

That leaves us with Lae'zel who I haven't decided a character for just yet, and Astarion who I need to reconsider for. As well as Minthara? I'm not sure what other companions can be romanced that aren't in the initial party, all I know is Minthara is easy for a Durge playthrough. I also think there was a possibility with Mizora? I don't know.

Send help.

[fandomcringebucket]

What If Baldur’s Gate 3 Characters Were Magnus Archive Fear Avatars?

This has been sitting in a Google doc since last year, I'm not hyperfixating on either of these fandoms currently but you guys get to see it finally because I'm sick of seeing it unfinished in my drafts.

Without further ado, this is what I think all the BG3 companions (minus Minsc and Jaheira) + the Dead Three's chosen would be the avatars of if they were TMA fear avatars! Plus explanation, of course.

[Blanket Spoiler Warning, Proceed With Caution]

Lae’zel: The Slaughter, since Gith culture is militaristic and Lae’zel is a soldier through and through— she doesn't mindlessly kill or easily fly into a blind rage, but she still craves blood all the same.

Shadowheart: The Dark. Come on, Shar wants to plunge the world into eternal darkness, this writes itself.

Astarion: The Web, for his fixation on manipulation and gaining power in any way he can. Hell, even in his romance he was manipulating Tav/Durge at first, even if he realizes that security wasn't all he wanted.

Gale: The Eye, his obsession with knowledge and his need to know more was what brought him ruin and led him to the Orb, not unlike a certain Archivist we know.

Wyll: The Hunt, since he's literally primarily a hunter of monsters and other demonic creatures. Targeted by the Eye, maybe, since Mizora uses his bloodstone eye for surveillance and he's so worried about pursuing a romance with Tav/Durge because she's turned his own brain into a nightmare panopticon where he doesn't know if he's being watched so he always acts like he is.

Karlach: The Slaughter, for her connections with war and destruction— she's full of rage and violence but while I do think the fire caused by her engine smacks of Desolation, she's not been brought low enough to be a Desolation avatar in my opinion (even with her consuming other people's misery like one via Soul Coins).

Halsin: The Hunt, mostly for his animal connections and his obsession with tracking down the answers to fix the Shadow Curse not unlike the way you see mentions of explorers in the 1800s trying to find secrets in the more remote parts of the world.

Minthara: The Web, not just because drow and haha spiders but because she's fixated on gaining power, even if you recruited her the “good” way. Hell, you literally find her sitting on Ketheric’s throne after you kill him in the Mindflayer colony and come back up to the surface of Moonrise.

Withers: Not even an avatar, he's just The End, as the Literal (Retired) God Of Death And Everything Surrounding It.

Ketheric: The End, which is fitting not only because Myrkul is the Necromancer in the Dead Three trio, but because Ketheric's motivation for turning to evil gods (first Shar, then Myrkul) was because his wife and daughter died, and he couldn't handle that loss.

Orin: The Slaughter, for obvious reasons. Not the Hunt, mostly just because Bhaal focuses on the blood of the murder itself, not the chase beforehand. But I do think she's sharing winks with the Stranger, what with her being a Changeling and all.

Gortash: The Web, as The Web’s avatars tend to love manipulation and holding power over others— fitting for the Chosen of the God of Tyranny. (Touched by Desolation like Mike Crew was touched by the Spiral because of Gortash’s connection to the Hells, maybe?)

[arzen9]

Can I Be Good? Chapter 3: Part of the Team - Lark

pairing: Astarion/f!Tav | Astarion/f!OC 18+ MDNI word count: 4.4k tags/warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Not Canon Compliant, Vampire Ascendant Astarion, Redemption, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Mystery, Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Original Female Character summary: Centuries of pain, a ritual, (not) hunger, (not) desire, a lost soul, a search, a yearning, bodies, bodies... And a heart that changes everything.

In the clerb, we all fam.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY IN ADVANCE, LOVELY PEOPLE<3

Thank you for reading! I love you! LOTS AND LOTS of thank you's to @nerdallwritey for reading this through, for supporting me, for being an amazing friend!! ILY!! Can I Be Good? has a playlist, made by yours truly! If you want to give it a listen: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0pXFYWcgOZXxe8Hf39dhfs?si=f8f44e48d2924b1e

Please click here if you'd like to read on AO3 as the "insert link" function STILL hasn't been working for me. Otherwise, continue on here!

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go,” Wyll says on the phone. “It would be nice to meet your coworkers.”

“You mean Karlach specifically,” Lark says with a trill. 

“Is that her name?” Wyll asks wistfully. 

“Can you not be so obvious with your yearning tonight,” Lark pleads. “She’s my coworker, not your future wife.”

“Could always be both,” he says and chuckles shyly. Lark can hear Lae’zel scoff in the background. 

“Well, you guys can come on over here in the afternoon then.”

“And by here, you mean...”

“The Crimson Palace,” Lark says, trying not to cringe.

Wyll chuckles again. “Yeah, I just wanted to hear you say it. Congratulations on landing the job, Lark.”

He hangs up and leaves Lark standing at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to the second floor of the club, phone in hand. Astarion didn’t exactly tell her what to do from now until her little “get together” or whatever, and she hesitates before going back to the bar. For a moment Lark just stands where she is and tries to peer from behind the wall to see where the white-haired woman is, and feels relieved when she spots Shadowheart with her back to Lark, looking down intently at her phone. Maybe she can safely sneak on by and leave unnoticed; but what would be the point? She has to come back for Astarion’s little event anyway. Lark realizes that this place makes her miss the feeling of sunshine on her skin. 

“Soldier!” 

Lark jumps. “Karlach!” she exclaims. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

The tiefling laughs, open and boisterous. “What do you mean? I thought I was mighty stealthy.”

Lark raises a brow at her.

“So,” Karlach continues, a sincere look in her amber eyes. “Did you get the job?”

“Oh,” Lark says, straightening up a bit. “Yes, I did.”

It seems that Karlach is intent on giving her a heart attack though, as the next thing she knows, she’s enveloped by two muscular arms and lifted off the floor, feet hovering in the air.

“Yes! I knew it! I knew Fa— Astarion would pick you! He can make good choices sometimes.” 

“What do you mean?” Lark tries to ask, but it comes out as more of a wheeze, being squeezed by Karlach to the point of gasping for air.

“Nothing!” she exclaims, putting Lark back down. “Sorry, I’m just real excited.”

“I can tell,” Lark smiles. She hopes her braids are still neat. “I’m not sure I’m all that exciting, though.”

“Oh nonsense! If Astarion’s excited, you can bet your ass I am, too.”

Astarion is excited? 

Before Lark can voice her confusion at Karlach’s statement, Shadowheart beckons them.

“What are you two doing over there? You know I’m terribly nosy.” 

Karlach gives her a gentle bump on the arm, and the two make their way over back to the bar. Shadowheart winks at Lark.

“Really glad to see Karlach didn’t squeeze your organs out of your body.”

“Still in one piece,” Lark says. Karlach looks away shyly, but her smile is obvious. 

“I’m guessing you’ll be working with us, then?”

Lark nods. Karlach woo’s. 

“Excellent,” Shadowheart says. “Welcome to the team.”

“We have to celebrate!” Karlach interjects. “Now? Tonight? Where are your friends you had with you the other night?”

“Astarion’s already got that covered, I think,” Lark says. “He said we would have a little get together here tonight.”

Karlach and Shadowheart exchange glances, but their expressions don’t betray any emotion.

“Well, you can hang out with us until then.”

Something pangs in Lark’s chest. She enjoys the company of a few very specific people— namely, Lae’zel and Wyll. It’s been a long time since she actually hung out with anyone else. All of it is by choice, to be sure. There aren’t many people who are willing to understand and accept Lark exactly as she is. She isn’t even sure how her two best friends do it. 

But she would have to admit that Karlach and Shadowheart genuinely seem nice, even though the latter is a tad bit intimidating— whether on purpose or not, Lark can’t decide. 

The pitiful look she gave her the first time they met won’t leave her mind.

“Tell us about yourself,” Shadowheart interrupts her thoughts. Then, after a few seconds, “Oh, but first,” she says, gesturing to all the bottles behind her. “Pick your poison.”

“Oh, I’m not sure if I—”

“You’re not working right now, are you?”

“No, I start tomorrow.”

Shadowheart smiles mischievously. “Pick your poison.”

“She might not look like it, but Shads is the best at cocktails,” Karlach offers.

“Hey!”

They both turn to Lark again. Waiting.

“Um, I… Maybe a Bloody Mary?”

The two women smile at her, all teeth. As if there’s an inside joke here that Lark just isn’t privy to. 

Shadowheart starts immediately, and Karlach pats on one of the high stools in front of the bar. They sit next to each other. 

“What about me?” Karlach pouts.

  “You can pour yourself something, can’t you?” Shadowheart says, focused on preparing Lark’s drink. Karlach pulls herself off of her seat dramatically, and joins Shadowheart at the back of the bar, one hand on her hip, looking at the seemingly endless array of bottles filled with liquids of varying colors.

“Are you guys working during the day, too?” Lark asks.

“Oh, no,” Karlach says, picking up bottles, putting them back. “We live here.”

Odd. “You do? Why?”

“And I thought I was nosy,” Shadowheart says, but there’s no venom in her voice. “Why not?”

“Well, I just thought it would be weird living in the nightclub you work at, with your boss and everything—”

The two women fall into a fit of laughter at that. Karlach seems utterly lost. It’s Shadowheart who recovers first.

“Boss? You mean Astarion?”

“He’s the owner, isn’t he?” Lark asks, confused as to why they found what she said so funny.

“Yeah,” Karlach says, wiping away a few tears. “But we’re friends. We work together, not for Astarion.”

Huh. Lark’s mind immediately conjures up the image of Astarion standing on the balcony, surveying the crowd. Observing her.

A shiver runs down her spine. 

“Are you cold?” Shadowheart asks her. She’s putting the finishing touches on her Bloody Mary.

Before she can answer, Shadowheart continues, “You’ll get used to it, in time. But Lark,” she looks intently at her while placing the glass filled with red liquid in front of her. “Don’t let our living arrangements distract you from what you came here to do. Astarion would never have hired someone if he absolutely didn’t need help with the masquerade.”

“Of course,” Lark preens at the sudden coldness in Shadowheart. 

“Shads, you’re scaring the poor girl,” Karlach returns with a glass of something that resembles the color of her eyes. Bourbon? Whiskey? “We’re happy to have you help him out, Lark.”

“It’s not for me to be weirded out by your living arrangements, anyways,” Lark says, tougher than she intended. “I’m only here to help with the masquerade, as you said.”

“What, you’re not gonna work with us after the winter season?” Karlach says, clearly disappointed. “No way. I bet you’ll stay.”

“We never know what the future will bring,” Shadowheart says, but her smile isn’t so soft this time. “How do you like the Bloody Mary?”

----

Shadowheart’s Bloody Mary is so good that Lark has three of them. By the time the three women finish their last drinks (Lark’s third Bloody Mary, Shadowheart’s fourth glass of wine and Karlach’s… well, who’s counting?) the sun outside is setting, and it’s almost time to celebrate Lark’s new job. 

Wyll and Lae’zel walk in as Karlach is showing how she can balance two whiskey glasses on top of each other on her head. Lark doesn’t think she’s drunk— it seems that the tiefling naturally has the sort of courage most people need with the help of a lot of liquid.

Lark beams at her friends. Immediately her posture slackens a little with comfort, confidence filling her being. She feels at home with herself when she’s with them— even Shadowheart can’t scare her now. 

“Lark,” Wyll greets her, standing a little further away from where her and Karlach are sitting. Lae’zel stands next to him. 

“Well, soldier,” Karlach says, carefully placing the whiskey glasses back on the bar. “Introductions are in order!”

Lark turns to her friends to find Wyll’s gaze laser focused on Karlach, and almost rolls her eyes— then she sees Lae’zel. 

Her friend’s eyes are uncharacteristically round, and following her line-of-sight Lark realizes it’s Shadowheart that has softened her up like so.

Oh gods. Lark leans on the bar and places her chin in her palm. This might be an interesting night.

Despite her fear of suddenly being stuck in a weird romcom, her friends are civil in their introductions, if a little stammer-y. Lae’zel’s “surprise me” to Shadowheart’s “what would you like to drink” earns her an amused smirk from the white-haired woman, but yes. Wyll is civil. 

Then Astarion enters the room— talking to a man that’s walking beside him, with an impeccably smooth purple shirt and shiny, slicked-back brown hair. Lark’s stomach does something that suggests either nerves or one too many Bloody Mary’s. She settles on the latter. 

Karlach and Shadowheart don’t seem to notice the two men, still in conversation with Lae’zel and Wyll. Lark’s focus has shifted though, keen on trying to hear what Astarion is talking to this man about. There’s something in the owner of the Crimson Palace that piques her curiosity to indescribable proportions, civility be damned.

And it seems that Astarion is keen on thwarting her attempts at satisfying that innate wonder, as he immediately lifts his head up to throw a smile at her, effectively silencing his companion.  She would give anything to see what goes inside his mind.

He tut’s at the sight in front of him, looking rather amused. “It seems that you have started the festivities without us.”

The man in purple makes his way over to Lark with quick steps. “Miss Promise, I am thrilled to have you join us. Thrilled! Astarion’s mentioned your aptitude in magic, and—” he stops when Astarion places the wide of his palm over his shoulder. Lark eyes him suspiciously, but he acts as if there’s nothing wrong. “I’m Gale Dekarios,” the man says, offering his hand.

Lark gets up to greet him, and it hits her— the scent of rosewater, the swirling of a million stars, the alignment of planets. No wonder he was interested in her magic. They share a knowing smile before Gale retracts his hand. Astarion eyes the two of them, his expression unreadable. 

“Please,” Lark says. “Call me Lark.”

“Well,” Astarion cuts in before Gale can say anything. “You now have the delight of meeting everyone. Care to return the favor?”

Lae’zel perks up from behind Lark, immediately peeling herself from Shadowheart and stepping to the side to be next to her friend. It surprises Lark, for a second. Her instinct to protect. Wyll shifts his gaze over as well, but doesn’t move from where he’s standing, next to Karlach.

“Lae’zel,” she says, giving Astarion a nod and nothing else. He tilts his head and smiles. 

“I’m Wyll,” Wyll says with a little wave of his hand. 

“Oh,” Astarion drawls. “Chief Ravengard’s son, in my club? What an honor.” 

Wyll looks down, uncomfortable with the recognition, but only smiles, possibly for Lark’s sake. 

“Nice to meet you all,” Gale says, seemingly sensible to the sudden tension. “Shall we take this up to the dining room?”

----

The dining room, of course, is a lot bigger than any dining room Lark’s ever seen, and on the third floor which she didn’t realize even existed, but it makes sense considering how high the ceiling looked when she first entered the Crimson Palace. The room itself is in the middle of the floor, accessible through two sets of double doors. Inside there is not much else but a table (bigger than any Lark’s ever seen) surrounded by about twenty chairs. A grand chandelier hangs off the ceiling, blindingly shiny. 

Astarion takes the chair at the head of the table, and with a pat, invites Lark to sit at his right. Despite her obvious interest in Shadowheart, Lae’zel chooses to sit next to Lark, seeing as her friend’s face has flushed with panic due to the proximity of her new boss.

If only she knew.

Gale takes the chair on Astarion’s left side, followed by Wyll and lastly Karlach. Shadowheart stays standing for a moment to talk to Gale, putting her hand at the back of his seat. Observing her surroundings, Lark realizes that she’s the only one that seems to be nervous. Even her friends don’t mind the gathering they’ve found themselves in— Wyll is in deep conversation with Karlach, already able to make her laugh, while Lae’zel steals glances at Shadowheart from time to time but keeps her hand on Lark’s armrest. 

“I hope Shadowheart and Karlach kept you entertained today,” Astarion tells her, lounging in his seat like he owns the place.

Well, he does. But still.

Shadowheart gives him a side-eye, but doesn’t say anything before turning on her heels and leaving the room. Lark can feel Lae’zel droop with disappointment.

“Absolutely. Shadowheart indulged me with making my favorite drink. Multiple times, even.”

“And what’s that?”

“Bloody Mary.”

“Ha!” Astarion gives a short, loud laugh. It suits him. “I’m more for red wine myself, but that’s a good choice nonetheless.”

As if on cue, Shadowheart comes back with two bottles of wine clutched against her chest. She hands one to Astarion, and then goes to sit down next to Karlach on the other side of the table. Lae’zel’s mood immediately seems to brighten to see her come back, and it amuses Lark— she has no idea how readable she is.

Only when Astarion pulls out the cork of the wine bottle does Lark realize the table has already been set with plates, utensils and wine glasses— except for Karlach who has an already full pitcher of beer in front of her. Lark eyes the two with a smile as Karlach offers Wyll some of her beer. It’s cute.

“Would you like some?” 

It’s Astarion’s voice that snaps her attention back to her side of the table. He’s holding the wine bottle slightly tilted over her glass, ready to pour.

“Sure,” she says. As he pours the dark red liquid into her glass, Astarion watches her— quiet, unthreatening. 

“Lae’zel, was it?” he says although his gaze is still on Lark.

“Yes,” Lae’zel responds in an exasperated tone. She doesn’t enjoy needless attention and would probably rather watch Shadowheart over the table.

“Your kind still doesn’t favor our beautiful city, even after centuries. Why is that?”

“You speak as if you’ve kept watch,” she sneers. Lark stares at Astarion, displeased with the comment. She knows Lae’zel isn’t a stranger to these kinds of questions; it bothers her that she faces them nonetheless.

“Merely a history enthusiast,” Astarion smiles. 

“Perhaps it’s because your kind favors it too crowdedly.” 

Lark takes a sip of her own. It really is going to be a long night.

After all the cocktails she had the first sip of wine seems to go right to her head. The room spins around for a little before she can refocus on Astarion’s high-pitched giggle. 

“My apologies on my kind’s behalf, then. Would you like some wine as well?”

“I prefer something stronger.”

“I’m sure we’ll have it.”

Just then, an elf with long, red hair enters the dining room from the double doors on the furthest side, rolling a cart filled with various dishes; followed by a young tiefling with another cart, this one carrying different bottles. Astarion gestures at the tiefling to come over and turns to Lae’zel.

“Let’s drink to your friend, shall we?”

The offer of a drink seems to soften Lae’zel, with the added bonus of her pride when it comes to Lark. She has always been her number one supporter (a position she shares with Wyll); reassuring her that poetry was her calling when Lark wanted to give up and switch to something that would actually make money or that she definitely can down the fourth shot of tequila. No matter what life event it is, Lae’zel’s solid support has remained the same. 

Everybody gets their food and drinks; they toast to Lark, she flushes. The night goes on, Astarion’s relentless attention finally leaving Lark in favor of a debate with Gale that doesn’t interest her whatsoever. She and Lae’zel exchange a few remarks about the dishes but don’t talk much of anything since the gith is preoccupied with looking at Shadowheart and looking away the moment she looks back. 

Lark swears she will talk to her about adult flirting when this thing is over. Not that she’s an expert, considering she has been single for the past five or so years. Stealing glances needs to be left in high school though. 

Astarion abruptly leaving his chair catches Lark’s eye and she turns her head to look at the reason— a tall man with long auburn hair, a prominent nose and thin lips has entered the room, and is now smiling at Astarion, his hand drawing gentle circles on the silver-haired elf’s elbow. The man’s sun kissed skin glimmers under the light of the chandelier, as if he does nothing all day but rub himself in oils. Lark snickers to herself. Why does she care?

She should stop staring. She really should. But then the man leans into Astarion’s ear and whispers something, making the elf smile, and Lark can swear she sees him dip his head to place an almost imperceptible kiss on Astarion’s neck.

The magazines must have missed this piece of news— this highly coveted bachelor seems to either not be a bachelor, or a serial heartbreaker.

Lark would put money on the latter— her new boss doesn’t strike her as the type to swoon. 

She tries, very hard, to stop this line of thought. It’s unprofessional. It’s not like her to be this nosy. That’s Shadowheart’s job, isn’t it?

Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the man leave, or Astarion sit back down. It’s his voice again that pulls her back to reality.

“Are you alright, darling?” he asks, wearing a shit-eating grin that looks almost lopsided. Why is he so intent on smiling without showing his teeth? Perhaps he has bad dentures. Although Lark finds that impossible considering how meticulous he seems to be about his appearance. 

She also notices the pet name, but decides not to dwell on it. It seems to be his vernacular. Far be it for her to judge. Maybe he’s just old. 

“Yes,” she says, her mouth dry like sandpaper all of a sudden. She takes another sip from her wine in an attempt to cure it. 

“Be sure not to drink too much,” he says, twirling his wine glass at her. “You’ve got work tomorrow.”

Lark wonders how sharp her fork just might be.

----

“I think you’re being too harsh on him,” Wyll says on their way back. It’s almost his time to get off the train with Lae’zel after, and lastly, Lark. “He just seems like a typical rich guy to me.”

“And how would you know?” Lark laughs. “Wyll and Karlach, sitting on a tree, sharing beer…”

“Come off it,” he says, but there’s no denying the upward tug of his lips. “We were just talking.”

“For now.”

“I’m happy that you have this job now,” Lae’zel interjects. “But I would prefer not to join any get togethers that your boss organizes, from now on.”

Lark puts a hand on her chest and gasps dramatically. “And deprive yourself of the ever-so mysterious Shadowheart? You must really hate the guy.”

“I would have to care for him in order to hate him.”

They laugh. Lark’s head spins lightly, in a nervous but not all too unpleasant haze. She really does have a job now. 

She’s not too fond of Astarion either, but he’s not the first asshole she’s had to work under, and he definitely won’t be the last. 

“I don’t need him to organize pathetic dinner parties if I want to sleep with Shadowheart,” Lae’zel continue with venom.

“I thought you really liked the crème brulee,” Lark pouts. “And I highly doubt stealing glances like high schoolers will get you anywhere near her panties.”

Wyll grimaces. “Must you always be so vulgar?”

Lark sticks her tongue out at him. Lae’zel tilts her head and stares into the distance for a bit. “What should I do?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes. If this stealing glances isn’t how you do it, then I would like you to tell me what to do.”

“I—” Lark stammers. “I’m not sure. I’ve known the woman for like seven hours, Lae.”

“Tell me what to do when you know.”

Wyll and Lark look at each other, smiling. “Sure, Lae. I will.”

Lark goes to bed that night as soon as she makes it home and sleeps soundlessly for most of the night, save for a few instances she thinks she hears a sort of knocking sound. It’s scary at first, annoying after a couple of times. 

But the night never lasts and morning comes, the sound of her phone waking her up before her alarm does. She has two texts from an unknown number and sits up to read them, one eye still shut.

Good morning, Lark. This is Shadowheart. You’ll probably want to save my number You can come and start at your earliest convenience.

“Earliest convenience,” she repeats to herself. “What am I, a corporate overlord?”

Despite complaining, she gets up and takes a shower, puts water in the kettle for tea, braids her hair. The chill in her apartment makes her realize she forgot to shut the window again. How does she keep doing this?

On the way to the Crimson Palace, she fiddles with her necklace— the one her dad gave him when she was thirteen. The silver angel holding a garnet warms under her touch.

----

“First day, soldier!” Karlach greets Lark at the entrance, carrying two barrels under her arms. “Break a leg!”

“I’ll try,” she responds before making her way inside where Shadowheart is waiting. The dark blue turtleneck she’s wearing compliments her hair. Or the other way around. 

“Hi,” she says. Shadowheart smiles at her, not too icily. 

“Astarion’s still in his room,” she says. “You can go wake him up.”

“Wake him up?”

“His room’s on the third floor. Down the corridor to the left.”

“I—”

“He’ll tell you about your daily task, and you can go from there.” She turns to leave, then pauses. “Oh, and Lark,” she seems to hesitate. “Could you maybe… Give me Lae’zel’s number?”

----

The climb to the third floor feels like a strenuous exercise and Lark’s feet want to go back— it seems she has not taken the “personal assistant” part of the job seriously enough. Which is the whole of it. 

“Wake him up,” she mumbles, walking down the corridor as loudly as she can. “Does he not have the money for an alarm clock? Probably spent it all on the chandelier.”

Stopping in front of what she assumes to be Astarion’s door, she pauses, one hand on the door handle. “I’ll be good,” she whispers to herself. Then she opens the door.

She’s greeted with another full-length mirror (he must really love himself) and from the reflection she can see herself, but also the bed— where Astarion’s laying, looking at his phone, thankfully covered by dark red sheets. 

Next to him is the man from last night— getting dressed.

“Shit,” she gasps and turns her head away, face gone all tomato. Shit. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Shadowheart takes this personal assistant thing too seriously,” Astarion sighs. “You should leave.” 

When Lark turns to leave, Astarion interrupts her. “I wasn’t talking about you.”

She dares look in the mirror again, only to see Astarion’s gaze bearing into her soul. He’s not looking at his… Partner at all. 

The said partner quickly leaves— doesn’t say a word. Neither to Astarion, nor to her, even when he brushes against her shoulder as he walks out.

Lark is still frozen in place, hand still on the door handle. She feels clammy.

“You can come in,” Astarion says, face buried again in his phone. “I won’t bite.”

Out of pocket, Lark thinks. But what’s new?

She fully enters the room, turning her back against the mirror and facing Astarion head on. He lifts his head to regard her and gives a sleepy smile. His hair is annoyingly perfect, and the bed sheets seem to be strategically placed over his waist, the toned muscles of his chest and the lower half of his legs visible.

“I think you should get dressed too,” Lark says coldly. She can feel the warmth thrumming in her cheeks.

Astarion takes a deep breath. “Must I?”

No, a part of her says. She shuts it up.

“Shadowheart told me to wake you up.”

“I’m awake.”

“Okay.”

They regard each other for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity to Lark. She’s uncomfortable. Astarion’s nonchalance doesn’t help.

“No need to reveal all of my quirks from the first day, huh darling?” Astarion laughs. Lark doesn’t have it in her to join him. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get dressed and meet you in my office.” 

She turns to leave, trying not to look anywhere but in front of her.

“Lark,” he says. Her name sounds like melted chocolate in his mouth. “Don’t get the wrong idea about this.”

“Why would I?” she asks, gaze plastered firmly on the door in front of her. “It is definitely not my place to get any ideas about how you live your life.”

“And how do you think I live my life?”

“He was there last night, wasn’t he?” she blurts out. Why is she blurting things out? “A pity he didn’t stay for dinner. You seem to enjoy teasing people, after all.”

She really needs to shut the hells up.

But Astarion only laughs— that high-pitched, honest sound. Lark’s heart gives a rather strong thump against her chest.

“Darling, you wound me,” he says, and Lark can hear the pout in his voice. “I never play with my food.”

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[angel-bitch-boy]

Astarion Romances

BloodWeave and BloodFrontier.

Do I like Bloodweave? Yes, I like the fact Astarions story directly foils Gales. I like that they are both under the thumb of someone more powerful than them and their inital conculsion (if good ol tav wasn't there) would be to take more power to protect themselves. THe fact that Astarion so deeply hates Cazador opposed to Gale's blind devotion to Mystria.

BUT

Realistically? I think Wyll is the best choice for Astarion. Astarion has said when he was younger he'd always imagined he'd end up with "the heroic type like Wyll" Wyll who is so blindingly good that Astarion has no choice but to be comfotered by it despite his anger for the lack of selfishness. Wyll WHO IN THE GAME WANTS TO DEVELOPE A DEEP ROMANCE CONNECTION BEFORE HE LETS HIMSELF SLEEP WITH YOU?

come on!!! tell me that's not exactly the kind of guy Astarion needs!!!!

I love Bloodweave alot but Bloodfrontier is so slept on.

[la-yui]

New run, new party!

Waiting for the patch 8 to come, what can a girl do? Start a new campaign, of course.

Astarion as always my main dps, my bard Tav as support and Gale and Wyll as secondary dps. No tanks.

I have to admit that i like this setting, the banters are just a messy XD I mean, first Astarion is trying to hit on Gale, than Wyll is hitting on Gale; Gale, poor guy, is figuring out if he can have a chance with Tav, who, of course, is dreaming of Astarion (oops, i did it again 🎶)

At first Wyll and Astarion seems friendly frenemies but the moment Tav and the spawn had fun together Wyll become more protective regarding Tav and i find it lovely. He cares for Tav, seriously. I would romance Wyll but somehow i'm convinced that he belongs to Karlach and i don't wanna steal her boyfriend.

Sooner or later i'm gonna post the dynamics between all the companions xD