#honestly love all the companions. expect for Gale.

[noname-nonartist]

Ayooooooo

Still on the bg3 hyerfixationnnn, so here’s a silly vid I made instead on actually working on my drawing wips lmaooo

[merlinmerlot]

i finally finished bg3

and it only took me [looks at steam]

SIX HUNDRED HOURS

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

[messiahzzz]

as much as i dislike the dialogue option that leads to this scene, i genuinely appreciate gale's response. it is easy to overlook what he is actually trying to convey here and is instead commonly dismissed as him being "overdramatic" or as a display of his bruised ego.

player: it was fine. gale: i see. gale: well, fine is... fine. nobody weeps because the weather is fine. no monarchs were overthrown because their ruling was fine. no artworks were burned because they were not masterpieces, but merely fine. player: would you have rather i lied? gale: the dignified thing for me to say is 'no. of course not. forthrightness before all.' but honestly? yes... i would have rather you lied. gale: i'm just a man. an imperfect one, with needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel. a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power. gale: perhaps it would be better to not shake such a vessel. gale: forgive me. these were already trying times before elminster delivered his missive. now, for me at least, they are potentially end times.

gale is no stranger to introspection. despite having his natural blindspots, he is fully aware of his flaws and imperfections. he lacks an inherent sense of self-preservation, displays impatience on occasion, can be hypocritical, has trouble handling pointed criticism well, and has a tendency to respond in passive aggression if he feels his competence is brought into question. he seeks admiration and is known to not honor his limitations and own safety for the sake of receiving praise.

gale: [...] people have always commented on my confidence, sometimes my over-confidence, and in one particularly cut throat assessment at university - my 'abject and incorrigible self-delusion.'

gale is not blind to how he is perceived by others, nor does he dismiss their conclusions without careful consideration. instead of deflecting he simply takes what they dish out and files it away for later contemplation and inspection.

player: because you acted the idiot. and paid the price for it too. gale: as always, i endeavor to be invigorated by your candour, rather than eviscerated by it. gale: blunt as your summation is - it's correct. i dared to call myself an archmage while acting the apprentice. the hallmarks of a most excellent idiot, unfortunately.

player: i can't say i share the same high opinion of you, gale. gale: always bringing such candour to our conversations. some would think twice about mocking gale of waterdeep, but you just go straight for the gut. nodecontext: playing along, making fun of himself gale: i like that about you. it's one of your rarer qualities, though i fear my ego can take no more of it tonight. nodecontext: cheerfully accepting the brush off, not taking it personally

needs, wants, and flaws by the bushel.

gale craves as mortals do. for relevance, safety, consideration, loyalty, care, acceptance, and love. he's desperate, he's angry, he's petty and hurt and lonely. he's contradictory, and at times inconsistent. he's afraid, he stumbles, he yearns. if he loves, he does so with all his heart but forgets to extend the same love to himself. he gains understanding only to disregard it later. he is absorbed yet devoted. he expects kindness but is bewildered when it is extended to him in turn. he's neither a perfect colleague, a perfect companion, a perfect lover, nor a perfect husband. he's just another human who's trying to navigate and make sense of the world. who is silently hoping for his soul to be handled with tenderness and care, to finally be seen for who he is —no need for performance or pretense — and to be unconditionally cherished nonetheless.

a fragile vessel in which to place potentially world-ending power.

he knows the burden he carries. understanding that even a momentary lapse in judgment could spell catastrophe if he doesn't exert tight control over his emotions at all times. he knows what is at stake should he lose the composure he painstakingly had to master. a mere moment is all it takes. this self-assessment isn't an "indirect threat" intended to subject pressure on tav or solicit pity, it's a stark acknowledgment of the truth. he is a fragile human, housing powers that should've never been his in the first place.

player: unbelievable. did you ever think what would happen if the tadpole got the better of you? gale: every waking moment. every dreaming moment too. but there was no way out.

he is also keenly aware of how his (former) colleagues perceive him, following his fall from grace.

player: bold. few would dare to reduce a goddess to their 'muse.' gale: i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

this line in particular is one i often think about. it makes me wonder about the extent of information gale received from the outside world after locking himself in his tower for an entire year, setting magical wards so no one but tara would be able to enter. did he hear the whispers? ("shunned by the goddess of magic herself, of course, it was only a matter of time before he flew too close to the sun.") were his colleagues ridiculing him, applauding mystra for cutting off the rot at the source? how did he arrive at the assumption that he is perceived as "the villain" and not the victim?

player: you must have been lonely, with only tara for company.. gale: sometimes. but i imposed it upon myself, after all. i set up enough wards to keep an army at bay, never mind the few colleagues who sought to inquire about my welfare.

or is this solely his own harsh judgment of his folly? that there is no chance anyone would meet him with sympathy, kindness and understanding after what he had wrought. he was too greedy, too impatient — selfish in arrogance, ravenous in ambition. letting delusions of grandeur guide him. he brought it all upon himself with his lack of patience. entirely convinced of his success and skill, blind to the possibility of failure. now doomed to drag innocents into the abyss with him. the hallmarks of a villain, right? after all, who would truly believe him that his ambition hid no ill will?

players: by rights. i should kill you. gale: perhaps that is what i deserve, but you deserve no such thing. [...]

[kirain]

Finally doing a Gale-mance this playthrough (I've done Shadowheart and Karlach and had to gently turn Gale down both times) and while I initially mildly turned off by his grand gestures and flowery prose, it's rapidly growing on me because he's just so... earnest? Like yeah, he's theatrical but its all genuine. (And after reading your meta I've become suspicious that Big Grand Gestures are all he knows because what's a small, sentimental gesture to a goddess? I didn't go with the Astral Sex scene because I wouldn't have been able to handle it but now I'm glad I did for narrative reasons too.)

I'm happy for you! Many of my friends have also fallen down the X companion to Gale pipeline, but they didn't regret it. 😆

I also didn't choose the astral sex scene, but as an asexual, it doesn't bother me. I know a lot of people are 50/50 on it, but I think it's just another beautiful expression of love. The good news is I don't think it impacts Gale's decisions. You can try it and still tell him you prefer him as a man, and he'll be grateful.

Gale is theatrical, but you're right—it's what became expected of him. He was in a constant state of trying to impress a goddess. It's honestly heartbreaking, because I have a feeling he wouldn't have explored such grand gestures if not for Mystra, who according to both the game and D&D lore loves unconventional sex involving the Weave. I can't even imagine being under that kind of pressure.

Personally, I also found Gale's sex scenes to be painfully telling, because he doesn't make it about what he wants. Like you said, he's earnest. It might be his last night alive, but he focuses solely on your pleasure. He does all the work, he offers different methods, and he conjures a bed for your comfort. While he certainly is seeking support and doesn't want to be alone, he wants to spend what little time he has left making the one he loves happy.

He's also one of the few companions who will fully embrace your ilithid form, admire you for your sacrifice, and actively search for a cure and magical means to feed/protect you. He sets boundaries (like not allowing you to cheat on him), but you becoming a squid isn't one of them.

That's why I think Gale is one of the most loyal and devoted companions in the entire game, second perhaps only to Minthara, if you play as the Dark Urge. They're both very ride or die, but Gale is a soft, wholesome romantic who proves his love in everything he says and does.

Plus he cooks and has a cat. You can't go wrong. 😉

[bg-brainrot]

Alone in a Crowded Camp

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: A short Astarion reflection, where he realizes that company isn't so bad.

Tags: Astarion POV, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings

A/N: My ~mood~ persists and I wanted to make this real angsty, but even I couldn’t do that to myself hah. A short little oneshot to try to get me out of my funk!

Word count: ~1.1k

Alone.

Astarion has gotten quite good at being alone.

For two hundred years, he's been surrounded by people– their faces, their bodies, their sickly sweet words and insincere affections. But all along, he has been deeply, achingly alone.

He's had his siblings, ugh, if that's what you could call them. They’ve been a constant, annoying, and at times cruel presence in his life. They’ve felt like a growth he could no more remove than he could ignore. And, through the misery and the pain, he somehow still managed to feel gods awfully alone.

It’s difficult to pinpoint the source of his loneliness. After all, he has nary a moment to himself. But no matter how many people, no matter how frequently he’s with them, something is missing. There is no connection, no kindness, no caring. He simply is alone.

As such, Astarion has grown downright skilled at solitude. A practical art form, he's certain– someone else may call it a method of coping. Either way, it’s not a skill he's comfortable to admit.

Especially not when he suddenly finds himself surrounded once more, veritably drowning in the same disgusting familiarity and the startling newness of companionship. Because this time, he's free. Or as free of Cazador as he's willing to believe for the moment. And his companions don't expect much from him. At least not more than he's willing to provide.

So when he settles into the motley crew, he’s prepared to face the same discordant discomfort of isolation, all while being a hair’s breadth from falling into someone’s bedroll.

Instead, what he finds is an unconventional, at times chaotic, symphony.

The loud sheering sound of weapons being sharpened.

The heat of bodies surrounding a late night campfire.

The beautiful, desperate joy on the faces of those who may not live to see another day.

Astarion soon discovers that, despite the dirt, despite the tentacled doom lingering over his gorgeous head of curls, the boisterous mundanity of daily life is oddly… welcome.

For so long, as long as he can remember honestly, he’d dreaded meeting someone new. Meeting someone new meant as much a death sentence for them as it meant a detestable evening for him, a night lost to his inevitable withdrawal into the deepest darkness he could muster. 

But here, in the warm glow of firelight, the darkness abates. 

Against all of his efforts, he actually learns about the group.

How Lae’zel single-handedly took on her entire crèche while training, how many rooms Gale’s tower boasts back in Waterdeep, how far Wyll’s travels have taken him along the Chionthar, how Shadowheart didn’t need her memories to remember she hated bad wine, how Karlach once defeated a Pit Fiend in the hells themselves. None of them are things he expected to learn, nor care about. But he finds himself listening, chortling along all the same.

And then there’s you.

At first, he’d kept you a careful arm and knife distance away– an asset surely, but just as surely a dangerous one. He’d learned early in his time with Cazador that anyone who could wield both blade and charm was not someone to be trifled with.

What he hadn’t expected was the way that you made him feel: Distinctly not-alone.

Whether it be catching the mischievous twinkle in your eye from across the room or finding himself wrapped in your arms, feeling your body heat slowly seeping into him– he simply can’t understand how you make the world feel so full.

Astarion isn’t sure if he loves this new feeling of overwhelming closeness or misses the solitude. He wonders if he’ll ever feel alone again, and the idea that he may not both thrills and terrifies him.

Because there is something soothing about being alone, a type of insidious succor only his own thoughts provide.

The ache loneliness has carved in his chest is as lingering as it is deeply rooted within him and, like a plant desperately trying to survive, he finds the roots digging deeper and deeper in an attempt to stay grounded.

His moments of actual time to himself have been scarce, of course. So, in his fear, Astarion has gotten used to finding his solitude among the chaos, sequestering himself away from any who might hurt him before such a chance could arise.

Retreating from their kindness, reciprocating with sharply worded barbs, shooting utterly underserved glares in every direction. Their wounded looks mean nothing to him– why should they? They are just another group of strangers, one vampire lord away from becoming another pile of corpses.

However, much like every other of his carefully thought out plans, you are ready to thwart him. For every attempt he makes to withdraw, you’re right there, proving time and again that you are no stranger. Not anymore.

“Astarion.”

It’s a simple thing, his name. The last remnant from a mother he no longer remembers. It sounded wretched upon Cazador’s lips, a curse he could never break. Upon yours though? It may as well be a blessing. 

With that one, simple name, his loneliness is allayed. The roots embedded within him pull back, if only for the moment.

Despite his best efforts, he remembers that he is not alone. Astarion feels at ease.

His heart opens, little by little, and not just to you.

Living hundreds of years as he has, faces had begun to meld together, names began to lose their meaning, voices their distinct candor. But for the first time in a long, long time, he finds himself seeing, listening, connecting to others in a way he no longer believed himself capable of.

It’s… nice. Not that he’ll ever tell the others.

Naturally, his past doesn’t simply up and vanish. His mind still drifts, and he finds himself retreating into the damning safety of solitude from time to time. But each and every time, a hand reaches out– at times jovial, sometimes tentative, other times caring– ready to pull him back to the present.

“Astarion?”

One such hand comes into his field of view, and he takes it instinctively. It’s warm, comforting, and scarred with the beautiful history of an adventurous past. He could get lost in the look and feel of this hand.

“Astarion? Are you alright?”

Your voice is soft, tone gently questioning– yet still worried. Adorable, but you needn’t worry about him. He doubts he’s ever been better.

“Mmm, yes, darling. Quite alright.”

“Good.” 

Your hand squeezes his as you respond and he’s certain that, as long as you’re next to him, he may never feel alone again. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing after all.

[astarionmademewriteit]

My Fallen Angel (Part Two of Mission: Chaos)

Astarion (Unascended) x f!Reader/Tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI 18+ Only. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 3.7k

Tags: Smut; PIV sex; Fingering; Blood drinking; Painful puns; Maybe a little fluff.

Summary: After completing the mission, Astarion and Tav takes some much needed time to themselves.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵

Astarion and I flit through the streets, stopping every so often to press the other against a building wall–interlocking our lips as if we are addicted to each other's affections. In a way, we are.

The events that transpired earlier tonight ignited our passions–our unwillingness to keep our hands off one another is palpable. I would gladly watch Astarion level every building in Baldur's Gate if it brought him this much happiness–this much exultation.

By now, civilians have been pulled from the comforts of their homes, and drunk patrons have abandoned their cups so that they might get a better look at the commotion outside. The hungry conflagration where the stronghold once stood feeds on the rubble, debris, and the bodies of dead Absolutists. It is as if we had raised the very hells.

“Gale will have some choice words for us,” I giggle, trying to conjure images of our companions reacting to the building going up in flames.

“Let him,” Astarion chides, “What's done is done.”

We part through the swelling crowd, maneuvering around curious gazes and low murmurs. Every so often he and I would pickpocket the oblivious and cast each other knowing glances when we found something worthwhile. Just ahead, Elfsong Tavern buzzes with music and delight.

I turn to Astarion, “What about a celebratory drink? We can toast to the pile of corpses you made short work of.” I cock an eyebrow at him, excited at the prospect.

“Darling, the longer you keep me from camp and that delicious body of yours, the more you just delay the inevitable,” his amused expression tells me he is considering it regardless of how impatient he might be feeling.

“Come on, it will be fun,” I whine, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the tavern.

He huffs playfully behind me, “Honestly dear, there are far finer establishments than this, but if you insist.” It is obvious he's just as excited as I, even if he would never admit it.

We enter the bustling tavern, patrons dancing merrily while others ponder over the explosion that rocked the city. I order a carafe of wine for the table and Astarion and I sink into a booth in the corner of the shoddy establishment. Astarion pulls me into his lap, and I welcome the closeness of our bodies as I pour us a drink.

“Honestly darling,” Astarion murmurs, “Do you expect me to drink this intolerable swill?” He turns his nose up at the cup, clearly above the substandard spirit. He pushes my long hair to the side, exposing my neck. He drags his nose along the column of my throat, “Especially, when I could be dining on the finest vintage in Baldur’s Gate,” he inhales my aroma, reveling in the way I smell, “I do have exclusive access to the greatest drink in Faerun,” he purrs.

I giggle girlishly, delighted in the way he craves me and only me, “All in due time, my love,” I whisper, leaning my back against his chest and allowing him to wrap his arms around my waist, “At least toast with me,” I turn my head and kiss him softly on the cheek.

“If you insist," Astarion leans forward and grabs the cup of wine and lifts it in the air, “To my little treat and the chaos she wreaks,” He pauses, carefully finding his next words–his expression turning serious, “After spending what felt like an eternity reliving an agonizing death over and over again, you came along and woke my beating heart–you taught me to live again. Thank you,” He bows his head in gratitude.

I drop my cup on the table, my heart warming at his words. I twist my body to press a kiss to his lips. My hand cups the side of his face with a tender touch.

After a moment, he pulls away, an amused grin on his face, “I don’t think you understand how toasts work, my dear. But admittedly, I like your way better.”

I smile softly before raising my own glass, “My love, you paint an aspiring portrait of our love. It is nothing short of a masterpiece,” I clink my glass to his, “To us.”

He nods in agreement and takes a sip of his wine against his better judgment. His nose scrunches up at the taste and he sticks his tongue out in disgust. I down my glass and giggle at his expression.

Before I could properly finish the carafe of wine, Astarion flung a few gold pieces on the table and scooped me up in his arms. 

We are already headed towards the door, “Astarion! My wiiine,” I pout.

“How you managed to swallow that garbage is preposterous. You are too good for that place, my dear,” his arms tighten around me as we make our way out of the Lower City, “In any case, there's only one thing you'll be getting drunk on tonight,” he lightly spanks my ass eliciting a yelp from my mouth.

The camp is well within sight before Astarion decides to let me walk on my own two feet. The companions ran up to us, worry streaked across their faces.

“What in the bloody hells happened out there, we saw an explosion and and–" Karlach is on us in an instant crushing me into a tight hug, “I thought something horrible had happened.”

“To the cultists, maybe” Astarion says with an air of nonchalance. 

Lae'zel fold her arms across her chest, “Leave it to these two to cause pandamonium.”

“We're fine Karla–wait… did you say pandamonium Lae'zel?” I snicker. She consistently fumbled her words and Astarion and I loved to give her hell for it–against our better judgment at times.

“What of it?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

Astarion cuts in, trying to contain his laughter, “Oh Lae'zel don't think in such black and white terms.”

Lae'zel eyes us with disdain and I clasp a hand over my mouth trying not to laugh, “Astarion my love, do try to be less unbearable, will you?” I say through bouts of laughter.

Astarion and I double over laughing at our own stupid jokes.

“At least you make each other laugh, tch.” Lae'zel stalks away from us while we try to bring our giggles under control.

Gale is next to welcome us back to camp, although ‘welcome’ might be an overstatement.

“What happened to the plan? All I asked was that you remain imperceptible with minimal casualties. I sincerely hope that you had a good reason for demolishing an entire building! Now the cultists will be at our heels as we venture forth to find the elder brain.”

Astarion huffs, already drained from the conversation, “As it stands, nothing has changed then, has it?” he looks down at his nails, “except less cultists,” he gives a little shrug of his shoulder.

I quickly pull the enchanted note from my pocket, “Here, take this,” I thrust it in his direction, “the message is hidden under some kind of charm.”

Astarion perks up, “Yes, it looks positively time-consuming. You better get to it then,” he grabs Gale's shoulders and turns him around before shooing him away.

As  I watch Gale walk away, fully engrossed in his new magical plaything Astarion leans over behind me and whispers, “Darling, I think you have made me wait long enough. Why don’t we take some time to ourselves, hm?”

I turn and playfully swat at his shoulder, “While everyone is awake, Astarion?! What do you think of me?” 

He laughs breathily, “I think,” he reaches out and brushes his knuckles down my throat and across my collarbone, “You want it just as bad as I do. Am I wrong?”

I blush at his touch and at his words, suddenly feeling shy. “There's that color I love so much,” he whispers softly, cupping my rosy face in his hands.

I lean into his cool touch, overcome by his words. He pulls me harshly into his body and tilts his head to the side, crushing his lips to mine.

I snake my arms around his neck and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He is right, I want it bad.

He smiles under our kiss and carries me to his tent, leaving the chatter of the camp behind.

We fall in tandem onto his bedroll, his tongue desperately searching for mine. Our bodies grind together as our kiss intensifies and I moan under his embrace. 

Astarion pulls away long enough to pull his shirt over his head. I remove mine quickly before we are at each other's mouths again. It is as if the momentary lapse away from one another was too agonizing.

Our hands roam aimlessly over each other's bodies. I tangle my hands into his hair and pull lightly and he offers a quiet growl in response–a growl that sends a shiver down my spine.

His hips roll into me, and his arousal is evident against mine. I gasp desperately, needing to feel him inside me. I pull on the waistband of my tactical trousers and peel them off with newfound urgency.

Astarion looks deeply into my eyes before removing his own and tossing them to the side. Instead of coming back to hover over me, he sits against the back wall of his tent and cocks an eyebrow in my direction.

“Come sit on my lap, baby girl,” he pats his thigh and I think I might faint at the new pet name. I eye him for a moment, watching the way his muscles move as his ribs expand and contract while he breathes. The moonlight casts a silvery haze around his ivory curls, and for a moment it looks like he dawns a glorious halo. My fallen angel. His vermillion eyes are unusually bright and clear as they rake over my exposed body–taking in my curves and the way my body reacts to him.

My pupils are completely blown out and my nipples stand erect. The slickness between my thighs only intensifies under his watchful gaze. My skin prickles with gooseflesh.

I crawl towards him and sit on his lap, laying my back against his hard chest. We breathe in unison, relishing the way our silken skin feels against one another.

He brings a hand to my jaw and tilts my head back to face him. He leans in and kisses me softly at first, his pace quickening as his free hand travels down my body. His lips are bruising against mine and he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth–his fangs grazing against me. He gropes at my chest, rolling my nipples between his thumb and index finger. I whimper under his touch. His arousal digging into my back–as if foreshadowing what's to come. 

His hand continues to wander over my body, memorizing all of my curves and scars. He stops just before the apex of my thighs, and I yearn for him to touch me–to bring me unimaginable pleasure. 

I whimper softly at the anticipation. “Darling,” he chuckles darkly, “Your body is practically begging for me, but I'd much rather hear it from your lips,” his voice is gravelly and thick with lust and my body quivers in response. 

“A-Astarion, please,” I practically cry. My body was beginning to tremble, yearning for his touch–for him. My heart was pounding in my throat, something I’m sure that he had already noticed. His hand tapped impatiently just above my sex, and I know he is trying to coax more words from my lips.

“Oh dear, you make such sweet sounds,” he coos with a mixture of love and condescension, “But I need more,” as the last word leaves his lips, he tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls back harshly, and I reward him with a whimper.

“P-please, touch me Astarion,” I mewl. My body aches for his touch and I need him more than the air I breathe. I need to be engulfed by him.

“Since you asked very very nicely,” he murmurs softly. He quickly complies and dips his fingers expertly into my slick folds, “Such an eager little pup,” he coos, admiring the way my body reacts to him–how wet he makes me.

Astarion traces agonizingly slow circles around my clit, applying just enough pressure to ignite my senses. He tugs on my hair until my head rests against his shoulder and my back is arched to an ungodly degree.

As he continues his ministrations, the building pleasure in my core only grows as he drags his fangs against the soft flesh of my throat. I offer him a choked cry, wanting nothing more than to feel him drink from my neck. He inhales deeply, drinking in my scent.

“Feed on me,” I beg, my body longing to feel his fangs pierce my neck–to feel my life essence slip from my body as it nourishes him.

He offers me a low chuckle, clicking his teeth at me as if I were a petulant child, “Patience my love. I want to taste you at the height of your pleasure when your adrenaline is at its peak. I want to be inside you first,” he purrs. His fingers unexpectedly enter my dripping cunt, and I gasp loudly.

A cool hand clasps over my mouth, reminiscent of our entanglement earlier tonight. He knew I enjoyed it. “Sh sh sh. We wouldn’t want to disturb the whole camp now, would we?” I shake my head, unable to speak. 

I’m panting heavily as he pushes deeper inside me, curling his fingers to perfectly hit my sweet spot. Pleasure radiates through my body, and I moan into his hand, unable to control the sounds he coaxes from my body. His pace quickens and I can feel myself nearing the edge of no return.

“That’s it, my sweet,” he purrs into my ear, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck overloading my senses and sending a wave of gooseflesh across my skin, “come for me.”

His words push me over the precipice, and I am falling, coming undone around his fingers, and dissolving into pure bliss. My silken walls tighten around his slender fingers as they coax me to climax. My body quivers, the white-hot flash of my orgasm rocking through my body as he whispers motivating words in my ear. I’m blinded by the pleasure he offers me and my heart pounds in my chest. My toes curl in response as wave after wave of ecstasy flows through my body. I whimper under his hand, and he growls in response, only intensifying my splintering pleasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers gruffly, pulling his hands from my mouth and pussy. He grabs my waist–his fingers digging painfully into my soft flesh. He lifts me over his throbbing member, lining himself up with my dripping cunt. My body still spasms with the aftermath of my orgasm, and before I can completely fall back to Faerun he has thrust himself inside me, his cock stretching me out–testing my ability to fully take him inside of me.

“Gods below,” he growls, “You are so perfect,” his raspy voice is thick with praise.

I straddle his hips, my back still firmly pressed against his hardened chest. I barely manage to take him–inch by inch until I am flush against his hips. He is so deep inside me I feel like I might lose myself all over again.

He snaps his hips into me and guides my own to meet him thrust for thrust. I whimper, biting my lip to keep the screams from escaping as his cock brushes against my cervix. My mind swirls with unfiltered ecstasy, his movements lulling me into unfettered desire.

He fills me completely, and his jolting pace is both unrestrained and carnal. He slides himself out of me almost entirely, his throbbing head stretching me out further than I thought possible. The sweet burn of his girth inside me is alluring. The way my slick walls cling to him tightly elicits another growl from deep within his chest, and he hisses as he buries himself to the hilt once again.

My arousal rings loudly like a symphony throughout the tent, only motivating him to rut into me harder and with more force. I cry out, no longer caring if the other companions hear us inside. He was claiming my pussy–claiming me as his, and I gladly give myself over to him completely.

He firmly takes hold of my throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off the blood flow to my head, sending me into a delirious spiral that threatens to push me over the edge once again.

He continues to rut his hips into me, my ass rippling with each forceful thrust. Shockwaves of pleasure undulate through me. He tilts my head to the side, giving himself full access to my neck. He places sloppy kisses against the soft flesh of my shoulder and neck, warning me that he is about to take what is rightfully his.

“Feed on me,” I beg. I’m barely able to contain my anticipation.

“As you wish, darling,” he chuckles darkly. His acquiescence to my request further spurs the churning passion in my core.

He bears his fangs, as sharp as our daggers, and pierces the flesh where my neck and shoulder meet. The searing hot pain floods through my body until the pleasure is far greater than the pain. He drinks greedily from my neck, lapping up the blood as it flows freely from the twin puncture wounds.

His body begins to warm against mine and I continue to rock my hips against him–his cock spearing into me and hitting that delicious spot all too perfectly. As my life essence is pulled from my body, a dizzying sensation washes over me. I begin to pant heavily, feeling myself approach another tantalizing orgasm. Warmth washes over me threatening to burst me into flames.

Astarion whimpers desperately into my neck, tasting the adrenaline that tinges my blood. His movements are quick, my blood allowing him more energy than I thought possible. He quickly flips me over onto my stomach, never once breaking contact with my throat and never once pulling out of me.

He hooks his leg under my thigh and forces my legs to open wide for him. He thrusts into me with such force, his assault punishing and feral. I whimper under his weight, his cock thrusting deeper into me than I could have ever imagined. My vision begins to blur, and my breathing becomes ragged.

At the height of my delirium my body tenses as I near the precipice of another climax.

“Astarion, I-I’m gonna–” before I can finish my sentence he pounds into me harder, coaxing the orgasm out of me.

I fall once again over the edge, my vision darkening around the corner as I melt against his tense body. A strangled cry escapes my lips as he rails into me harder, my orgasm rocking through my body with such intensity that I fear it may stop my heart altogether. My brain practically short-circuits as I clench tightly around him.

His own breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts sloppier–and I know he is chasing his own release. He pulls away from my throat long enough for a deep growl to erupt from his chest, and then he is spilling himself into me. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving himself over to his ecstasy.

Our collective climaxes scream in unison–pleasure combusting through our bodies with unprecedented intensity. My orgasm begins to fall away, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as the last of his spent fills me completely. His body trembles against mine and moans fall from his lips, much to my satisfaction. He finally stills above me, trying to control his panting.

I reminisce on his earlier words, promising that I will only get drunk off one thing and I smile knowingly–I am without a doubt intoxicated by the primal pleasure he elicits from me.

Finally, Astarion kisses at the nape of my neck, “I’ve missed this you know,” he whispers before pulling himself away. I whine at the sudden emptiness, but I roll over to look into his ruby-red eyes. He grins auspiciously.

“C’mere,” he commands before pulling me into his chest. I gladly nuzzle into him, snaking my arm around his midsection and wrapping a leg around his thigh. He traces small shapes into my back, softly grazing my skin with his fingertips.

I smile sweetly into the crook of his shoulder, relishing his gentle touches. “I love you, Astarion” I whisper.

He gives me his signature grin and gazes deeply into my eyes. After a brief moment of contemplation, he looks at me, adoration overtaking his sharp features, “How selfish I am, to crave something that has no business being mine. Yet here I am now, a glutton for your love.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

I hum happily at his affection. “You deserve everything, my love,” I whisper, “I’m yours,” all the love and affection I feel touches my words.

“As I’m yours, darling,” he sighs longingly, squeezing me closer to his body.

There have been nights in his tent where only grief and pain existed. But then there are moments like this, where the world grows quiet lulling into a deep slumber and we find ourselves entangled–caught in each other’s web, unable to say goodbye or part with one another. Our feelings laid bare for the other to see. All the pain, the sleepless nights are only bearable when we are with each other. But tonight, we rejoice in one another.

We sit comfortably in each other’s embrace until sleep overtakes us. Our contentment in one another coaxes us into soft dreams of the future.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

COLLISION

Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 7 - 3.8K WC - NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 NSFW 18+

Chapter 6 NSFW 18+

Chapter 7 NSFW 18+ (you are here!)

Warnings: last chapter!, penetrative sex (gender neutral), sappy and fluffy af

------------------

“What would you like to do my dear? It’s your last day as a mortal, anything you want shall be yours.” Astarion said as he finished dressing himself.

You smiled, watching him from the bedroll as you drank the tea he had brought you. You thought about what you could possibly miss the most once you could no longer thrive in the sun. “The beach, I want to go to the beach.” you said.

Astarion smiled at you, a fine choice he thought. “The beach it is.” he took the empty cup from you, helping you stand. You adjusted your clothes, knowing you wouldn’t be in them long once you got to the beach. Astarion held your hand as you both walked out of camp, his supply pack slung over his other arm. Gale was the only other companion awake so early. You waved at him as you left camp, he smiled back at you. 

Astarion took you to a secluded cove, not another soul in sight. The water looked like it was made of crystal, shimmering and shining in hypnotic patterns. You quickly shimmied out of your clothes before bolting to the water. It captured you in a warm embrace, feeling perfect on your body as you twisted around in the water.

Astarion watched you from the shore as he slowly took his clothes off. You were so happy with something as simple as the ocean. He watched as you swam lazily, sun glistening on your body. He lusted for you but above all he felt this sinking in his heart. He loved you and couldn’t bear to think of life without you. When you agreed to becoming immortal it felt like a blow to his chest. In the best kind of way; he honestly expected you to say no. Maybe even leave him. He would have understood, but gods it would have destroyed him. Yet here you were, basking in the sun one final time. After the tadpoles were gone he wanted you to be able to remember this day, the way it made you feel. He would still take you to see sunsets, never wanting you to be completely withdrawn from the bright world. His thoughts were interrupted by wet arms encasing him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, kissing his bare shoulder.

“Nothing my sweet.” he said, turning around so you could face each other, his hands finding your waist.

“You have that look on your face.” you said.

He raised his eyebrow at you. “That! That look.” you giggled a bit. “It's a mix between perplexed and distraught.” 

Astarion smiled and sighed, his hands coming up to envelop your face, “Are you sure you want to give this up?” he asked. He wanted to give you every opportunity to back out because, once done, it’s done. There is no cure for vampirism. You would be stuck.

“Astarion Ancunin,” you said firmly. His full name and tone of your voice had him holding your gaze, hanging on every word. “I want you. Everything else is…” you trailed off looking at him expectantly.

“Background noise.” he breathed out. 

“I love you and will spend eternity proving it to you. Now, enough with the melancholy, come enjoy the sun with me.” you said while trailing your hand down his chest, over his stomach. His eyes closed as he felt your hand touch him where he wanted you most. Before any pleasure could build, you ran back to the water, laughing as you ran. Astarion was quick though, he grabbed you by your waist, you let out a happy shriek as both your feet got tangled causing you to collapse into the salty water. You emerged first wiping the droplets from your eyes as you looked around for him. Another shriek escaped your lips when he picked you up from under the water. He gazed at you, his ruby eyes big and round. You loved when he looked like this. Carefree. As if nothing had ever hurt him. As if it were just you two in the whole world. He slowly slid you back down into the water. You kissed him briefly before splashing him and trying to swim away. 

-------------------------

You and Astarion laid on a large flat rock, half in the sea half out. The stone was sizzling against your wet flesh but you would have it no other way. You laid on your back with your eyes closed, your arms above your head, perfectly resting. Your eyes opened when you felt something cold against your lips. Astarion laid on his front, he held a grape to your mouth. You bit it in half, Astarion smiled and pulled the other half into his mouth. 

“If you could go back to your world for a few moments, would you?” he asked randomly.

You pushed yourself onto your elbows, looking at him with a confused face, “Indulge me.” he said.

“I would only go back to get a few precious things from my house I suppose.” you shrugged, not wanting to make it sound like you wanted to go home in any way. 

“Would you like to get your things?” you stared at him in confusion before he spoke again, “I spoke to that rhyming sack of bones and he said he could open a doorway so to speak. You’d get five minutes.” you kissed Astarion, seeing his true self be devoted to you and your happiness made your heart flutter. “Only if you come with me, I don’t want even the slightest chance of losing you should the portal close accidentally.”

“As if I’d let you go alone.” he said, kissing you quickly. 

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Withers opened a portal before you. Astarion’s hand was clutched in yours tightly. You were terrified to go back to your world. Even the smallest threat of having to go back permanently or be without Astarion made you sick to your stomach. You swallowed down your fear, pressing “start” on your phone timer before jumping through the portal with Astarion in tow. It felt like you were falling before there was a harsh thud as your feet planted themselves against your bedroom floor. You heard little pats on the floor before a soft mewl. 

“Diaval!” you cood to your cat before picking him up and giving him a cuddle. “He’s coming with.” you said to Astarion who rolled his eyes, fighting the smirk on his face. 

You quickly shoved your favorite books and clothing into your backpack. Frantically trying to think of anything else that could be needed or wanted. Grabbing your favorite necklace you slipped it on and picked up your converse before handing them to Astarion. You picked up Diaval and hurried Astarion back to the portal. You took one final look around at the life you had. It was cold and dark in the room, lonely. Astarion slid his hand into yours, gently pulling you as he saw the portal start to get ever so slightly smaller. You ripped your eyes from your room, looking into his eyes, your future is all you saw. 

You both emerged from the portal. It was as if hours had passed in Baldur’s Gate, the sun long gone behind the hills. Withers closed the portal as soon as you both stepped through. You didn’t know if Withers had emotions but you were so grateful. Surely he did it for a price but it didn’t stop you from sticking your hand out, Withers took your hand. You held it for a moment before giving it a squeeze, “Thank you.” you whispered to him. 

You started towards Astarion’s tent before he gently tugged your arm. “Actually darling, I’d like to take you somewhere if that’s alright.” you smiled at him and skipped back to his side. You set Diaval down with Grub, the two sniffing each other out before Diaval sauntered away, presumably to explore camp. 

You and Astarion wandered the streets of Baldur’s Gate. You could hear the carnival off in the distance. The music and voices around you made the busy streets feel even more frantic. Astarion occasionally pointed out shops or places he had a story for. 200 years in Baldur’s Gate gave him plenty of stories. Finally you ended up at the Elfsong Tavern. Astarion led you inside and up the stairs. 

“Astarion! We need to pay to be up here!” you whispered harshly.

“I already paid.” he said in an unconvincing tone.

“Oh my god did you charm the innkeeper?” you asked, a smile creeping onto your face as you searched his. 

“How lowly you think of me,” he said, holding his hand to his chest feigning offense. 

You glared at him for a moment before he rolled his eyes, “... perhaps a bit of charm was used.” he looked anywhere but at you. 

You laughed before squeezing his hand, “Lead the way.”

Astarion took you down the hall to a room alienated from the others. A simple room with a bed, a basin, and a small desk. Lamps flickered, illuminating the room with the dancing flames. You sat on the edge of the bed looking up at Astarion. He moved to stand between your legs, cupping your cheeks. He searched your face, unsure what he was even looking for. Your hands wrapped themselves around his wrists, gently smoothing your thumbs back and forth. 

“I’m sure I want this Astarion. I’m not glass, I won't break.” you said, smiling softly at him, trying to reassure the growing worry you saw.

Astarion sighed before leaning down to peck your lips. “I wish I could have made it more  romantic, but I suppose this will have to do.” he said, gesturing to the room.

“This is perfect.” you said as you laid down on the bed, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position.

Astarion climbed on top of you, his face looked sorrowful. He carded his hands through your hair, “I’m sorry this will hurt.” he looked at you.

You held his face, pulling him up to kiss you. You both stayed like that for a moment, exchanging kisses until Astarion felt you tug your shirt open. He pulled away and you nodded at him. He kissed your neck repeatedly before sinking his fangs in. You had become used to the sensation and gave nothing more than a little jolt when you felt him start sucking blood out of you. He drank for a moment, until you became woozy the room was spinning. As he pulled back, you had to wait a moment for him to come into focus. You saw him bite into his wrist, his blood looked almost black. He brought it to your lips, a few drops landing on them. The irony taste felt strangely appealing. You took his wrist in your mouth, sucking down gulps of his blood. You shoved him away and spat what blood was left in your mouth. You started crying and shaking violently. It felt as if a searing chill was spreading across your bones. Your insides meshed and mingled in the most painful fashion. Your teeth felt like they were being yanked out at an excruciatingly slow pace. Every bit of you ached. You writhed in pain on the bed as Astarion tried to talk you through it. He attempted to hold you but when you shoved him away again he left you be. You whimpered and screamed, hoping it would all end soon. Your vision was consumed by darkness before you felt your body go numb. You panted, the pain making your chest heave. When you opened your eyes it's as if your senses were dialed to eleven. Everything was perfectly focused, you could see every detail wherever you looked. Your hearing was impeccable. You could smell the city in every aspect. Above all you felt your throat and how dry it was. Aching for a sip. You sat up quickly, reaching for Astarion’s wrist. Sucking down more of his sweet crimson - you felt powerful. You could drink him dry if he had let you. He pulled away and you whimpered at the loss. 

You had never looked so beautiful. Your striking red eyes held Astarion’s gaze. The blood that dribbled down your lips and chin gleamed in the fire light. Astarion kissed you quickly, whispering apologies for the pain he caused you. 

“I’ve never felt better, my love.” you said flashing your first smile with your newly acquired fangs. 

You lapped up the last of the blood on Astarion’s wrist before he kissed you, invading your mouth with his tongue. You both moaned at the contact. Astarion tasted himself on your lips. How delicious, he thought. You indulging in him. The heat spreading in your body makes you feel hungry, but not for blood. Your lover towering over you on his knees was a sight the gods would be envious of. You pulled Astarion back to you, fighting his tongue for dominance as you laid down. You untied your shirt with one hand as you lay there, the other running over the ridges of his scars along his back. 

“Can we?” Astarion asked out of breath.

“Until the world crumbles around us.” you breathed back.

Astarion’s hand disappeared between your thighs. Nothing compared to the feeling. What you felt now is barely comparable to sex before, even with the elixir of folly in your system. Your senses were so heightened you had to tell Astarion to be gentler than he already was. Astarion watched you, your face distorted in pain and pleasure.

“Please…” you begged repeatedly, for what you didn’t exactly know. 

Astarion kept on you, shushing you and whispering the filthiest things in your ear. “You’re so good for me, little love…”

You nodded fervently, too caught up in the pleasure to string words together. You reached for Astarion and guided him on top of you, hands skimming over the laces on his pants.

“Naughty - it’s like you read my mind.” he said, letting your hand sink into his pants. Feeling him through his small clothes. It set something off inside him. He swiftly took his clothes off, never stopping his hand from pleasuring you. You moaned loudly, feeling yourself all too close to the familiar edge. Astarion pulled his hand away, leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You let out a confused groan, looking to Astarion for an explanation. You watched as he fisted himself, the lust inside you roaring. Begging to be quenched. You couldn’t stand it, your own fingers instinctively going between your thighs to satisfy the ache in you. Astarion watched with hooded, dark eyes. Almost carnal, like a predator watching its prey. Astation pulled your hand away, lacing it with his, holding it above your head. You kissed him as he pleased you. His hands, mouth, and cock all trying to claim as many points of contact as they could. Unsurprisingly, you didn’t last long. The stimulation making you overly sensitive. Tears welled in your eyes, the pleasure making you convulse as Astarion chased his high. He followed you quickly with his release. Both of you panting for a moment, letting the remaining pleasure settle lowly in your stomachs. Astarion pulled off of you, both of you covered in blood and sweat. Without a word, He picked you up and walked to the room across from yours. A steam room with a bath poured to the brim of the large tub. Astarion locked the door before settling you into the bath. You sighed happily at the hot water. Astarion sat behind you, holding you to his chest. You almost drifted off to sleep a few times before jolting back up, determined to stay awake after such a monumental night. 

“I thought I wouldn’t get sleepy as a vampire.” you mumbled into his chest.

He let out a breathy laugh, “Your body has been through quite a bit today, it’ll need a little rest.” you huffed out like an annoyed child. Astarion laughed before he kissed your head, playing with your hair as you both soaked in the tub. You fell asleep rather quickly. Astarion shifted gently so as not to wake you. He gently cleaned the blood from you, as a bit had gotten on your body in the heat of the moment. He watched you sleep as the water grew tepid. He could hear how shallow your heart beat was. Contrary to popular belief, it takes time to become undead, the vampire venom soaking into every atom of your being. He gently traced the healed bite scar on your neck. A forever reminder of what you are now.

---------------------

You awoke before Astarion, a rare thing. The sun was barely caressing the horizon. You felt hungry. Remembering that Astarion said you could embibe in mortal food you crept down the squeaky stairs. The innkeeper was scuttling around the kitchen, you slowly walked in, knocking gently on the door frame so as to not scare the woman. She whipped around, hand holding her forehead. She gave a pained smile as you remained in the shadows. 

“Breakfast will be served shortly.” she said before letting out a whooping cough that echoed in the kitchen. The babe in her arms fussed about. The poor woman looked drained. 

“If I may be so bold, you don’t look entirely… well.” you said inching closer.

She scoffed, “I don’t feel entirely well.”

“May I?” you said taking the milk and eggs out of her hands. She put up no resistance. “Here,” you said, handing her a few pieces of gold. “You go see the healer, I will take care of breakfast.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly…” she said, waving you off dismissively. 

“I insist.” You said, gently taking the babe from her arms. “You go, we will all be fine until you return. How many patrons do you host?” 

The lady of the house sighed, holding her head as she tried to remember, “Just umm… just you and your friends.” 

Friends? You felt joy that your friends would be the first to see your transformation. They knew how much you and Astarion felt for each other, how you cared for each other. They would be happy for you both, intertwining your fates. 

“Are you sure? It’s really nothing...” she said before letting out another cough. 

“I’m sure madame, worry not, they are in good hands.” you gestured to the babe who had nuzzled themselves into your chest. 

“Baela.” She said as she hobbled to the door, “Her name is Baela.”

You cooed at the baby, you never particularly wanted children but they weren’t so bad in small doses. You settled the baby on the counter, using your soft coat as a makeshift bassinet. They slept soundly, little huffs coming from their mouth. You got to work on breakfast deciding that french toast was easy enough for everyone. You played music on your phone softly so as not to wake the babe. You swayed around the kitchen, singing some of the words of the song while you cooked.

-----------------------

Astarion awoke to an empty, cold bed. He reached out for you but when he felt nothing on your side his eyes snapped open. His first instinct was to panic, he frantically got up. Throwing his clothes on sloppily he stepped swiftly down the stairs. He didn’t see you in the lobby but he ever so faintly heard music. He inched towards the kitchen, the smell of something sweet rising through the air. Astarion stayed in the shadows as he peered around the corner.

“And he’s very handsome. Did I mention that? His eyes are like rubies, his hair as white as fresh snow, and ughhh that voice? Simply to die for.” you spoke to the baby as she giggled and watched you plate all the food. You heard some of your companions rising above you so you readied the food, knowing they’d be famished. “Behind his beauty though… there is so much pain…” Astarion felt his heart sink, he knew you regretted him. “But! Now that I’m immortal, I can help him heal. His soul is truly beautiful, he’s so kind and caring despite his cold exterior. I punched him a bit after we met actually.” you said, tickling the babes stomach just enough for her to let out a shrill giggle. “... he is meant for me I think, and I for him. This universe had a collision with mine for us to even meet, how could we not be meant for each other?” you asked the babe who looked at you with wide, bright eyes. 

Astarion’s heart felt as if it was beating again, he felt so human in this moment. Something he hadn’t felt in over a hundred years. Love was so foreign to him even now he questioned every move he made and every word he uttered. Believing you loved him so much was almost unfathomable. 

Almost. 

Astarion walked through the archway, finally stepping out of the shadows. Your back was to him so he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his chest to your back while placing a soft kiss on your neck. You hummed happy he was with you. You set the food and condiments on the table, waiting for the hungry adventurers to come downstairs. Astarion watched as you ever so gently picked up Baela. She fussed a bit before you hushed her. Astarion returned to his previous position, hugging you. You bothe swayed back and forth. Astarion watched Baela sleep. As much as he despised children, he could at least acknowledge the babe was cute. 

“Darling, did you steal a baby?” he asked with a tinge of humor in his voice.

“Hardly,” you said as you smacked his arm lightly “the innkeeper is sick, she’ll be back as soon as she sees the healer.” 

“Awww how domestic.” Karlach teased from the doorway, she eyed the table full of food. “You made breakfast?” she rushed over, making herself a plate.

Everyone else shortly followed, the innkeeper coming back already with more color in her face. You handed Baela off, waving to her as the innkeeper went to the front desk. 

You watched everyone from behind the counter as they all ate while talking and laughing. Astarion gazed at you as you watched them. 

“What is it?” he asked.

“What? Oh nothing… I just… This little group, it's like a family… it's all I could ever want. And having it with you, it… makes me happy.” you smiled fondly at everyone before looking to Astarion.

He pulled you into a gentle kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist and  cupping your face with the other. Your hands rested on his chest. You heard the room quiet down, breaking the kiss you looked over at everyone. Most of them wearing shit eating grins, Karlach taking pictures with your phone. You blushed, hiding your face in Astarion’s chest until you heard their chatter pick back up. Astarion chuckled at your sudden bashfulness, he tilted your chin up. Smiles adorned both your faces.

“Whatever happens… together?” he held his pinky before you, eyes all but pleading.

You kissed him, locking your pinky with his, “Always.” 

fin.

Taglist:

@lilmou5ie

Hello! I hope this was a satisfactory ending for you guys. I will write more and for other characters - just need to get some motivation and requests would be lovely to get the brain going. Thank you for reading, commenting, and reblogging! Love yaaaaaaa xoxo <3

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Another BG3 companions appreciation post, this time after the tiefling party. (Updated ver.)

When I say I love all the companions what I mean is I love all their traits, even the negative ones.

I love Gale who flexed big words and magical knowledge and his connections to Mystra since day one. Call me crazy but without knowing the background I AM impressed by his achievements and knowledge. Of course, his ambition led him too close to the sun, and like the fabled Icarus, he fell. But he's trying to make amends. He's completely surrended to the idea of finding an empty lonely spot for himself and dying alone in excruciating pain and filled with regret. Not even once did it cross his mind that Tav or others would want to continue journeying with him after he confesses about the orb. The moment he told me about his cat I stared at the screen in disbelief because I knew I'm suck his di-

I love Lae'zel who could've killed me right away on the Nautiloid but instead shared all the information with me, helped me fight my way through, tolerated everyone else, and from what I've seen from others Githyanki is actually really nice. She never lets Shadowheart's sneers get to her, offers Gale to teach him to fight, and answers all questions Wyll asks her about her culture. I was genuinely surprised when she not only complied when I ordered her around during the interrogation of Zorru or the confrontation of the Githyanki patrol but also thanked me for stepping in. Her honest, no-nonsense attitude is so refreshing in the story where everyone has secrets and you always know only half of the information if any at all. Everyone in the camp is hiding something from Tav except her. Say what you want but with Lae'zel, what you see is what you get and I really, really like that.

I love Shadowheart because she tries to be a bad guy but that just isn't her. Despite her church's teachings and her secretive and prickly attitude. At the end of the day, she's just a lonely, scared, and lost young woman who was put on a dangerous mission and is expected to deal with it alone. I don't know much about her yet but it's clear from her talks about Sune and various scriptures I found in the game about Dark Justiciars and clerics of Shar... and in all those stories, when they finally got the recognition of their goddess or they've completed their task, all that awaited them was emptiness... That's no way to live for Shadowheart. I can see the small glimpses, just like in Lae'zel, of desire, curiosity and so much want. She was forced to live in a place that forbade any individuality or anything except blind obedience. To just be a pawn for the big guy. But both she and Lae'zel could be so much more than that. Drinking up everything the world has to offer. I really wish that for them.

I love Wyll because...it's Wyll?!? I cannot stress enough how much I am fond of characters that are just good, kind, and selfless. I never get tired of heroic characters who honestly are in it just for helping people. Wyll was living a life of leisure and could be the prodigal son for the rest of his life. Instead, he picked up his sword, donned his stupid superhero name, and went on saving lives. He even went as far as making a deal with the devil just so he could be the hero of the people, not because he enjoyed the fame but because of his ever-present need for charity. He doesn't let anything, not even the tadpole or Mizora get in his way. He could've been one of those Martyrs who blindly follow the black-and-white definition of good and bad, killing Karlach right away. But he spared her, even if all it gained him was punishment. There's something so pure about him in the way he just wants to believe. I'm pretty sure he saw his fair share of fucked up shit while adventuring but he still wants to uphold these ideals of heroism. The boyish chuckle when I insisted that I wanted to dance with him... I'm not smiling like an idiot you do!

I love Astarion not for being the seductive vampire fantasy I thought him to be, but for the absolute chaos gremlin menace he truly is. He's the orange cat, the possum screaming at you from a garbage can, the raccoon hugging a chewed piece of moldy bread. His snark is impeccable, and his over-the-top mannerisms never fail to make me grin like a maniac. I'm strictly good-aligned but I watch him run around causing Situations and I'm like "Yes, you do that sweetheart. You deserve it." There are already many long detailed posts that describe shit he's been through so I'll only say this. I never pitied him or felt sorry for him. I admire him. Sure his path to recovery is nothing short of a mess. He hasn't had much chance at a good ending. But he took every fight kicking and screaming, not willing to give up and he has my respect for that. Because sometimes hope comes in the form of spite and anger. I love watching him rediscover himself at all points in life. I love Astarion the way he is (little shit) while simultaneously believing he can get better, and if that's wrong I don't wanna be right.

Ugh. I'll edit this later and other companions, I'm too tired now.

[elijasz]

features I'd like for future bg3 patches:

- manual grouping: [exists!]

sometimes I dont want to move the whole party at once, or split everyone. I would like to have the option to group party members to each other. Like grouping my 2 rogues together because they give each other proximity advantage for sneak attacks, or grouping the melee fighters together, while leading the casters to a save spot where they can attack from above and be save. Something similar is already happening in multiplayer but I would like it for single player aswell (I have been informed this feature already exists and I just didnt know. Very cool)

- scenic spots:

Exactly what it says. I just want spots where I can move the camera more freely and have a good view of something cool or beautiful. It does sound pretty hard to implement though.

- more enemy last words:

I would really like the option to get an additional cutscene or something if I don't kill boss enemies or important npcs in a fight, but instead knock them out in the fight. I was honestly expecting a cutscene after knocking out Gortash or Raphael. Even if it's just them begging for mercy and we have the chance to kill them or to spare them. Banning Raphael from the house of hope and making him aware that you could easily kill him seems more satisfying than just plain killing him and then its over. (Especially because the fight was a bit too easy.) I know this is a lot of effort and the voice actors would have to be up for it aswell so I dont expect much but it would be really cool!

- Zevlor romance.

You heard me.

- illithid memory sharing cutscenes

I'm all for more story cutscenes. We got one for shadowheart and I would absolutely adore seeing other characters backgrounds in visual form. As much as I love the narrators voice I just want to see baby Lae'zel and tiny Wyll. OH young Gale in his mothers kitchen with the bunnies! I have a lot of imagination and visualisation skills, but other people don't and I want them to experience those scenes aswell!

- consequences for using the tadpoles and mindflayer powers

I used the mindflayer tadpole powers ONCE in my entire playthrough. Didn't put any more tadpoles into my head. I was a bit bummed out when I found out there were no consequences for using/not using them. Seems like the final fight should be harder the more tadpoles have made Tav's little pond of a brain their home.

- manual insight and perception checks

This one is not going to happen but I would like to have it anyway. In DnD I'd sometimes ask/get asked "what do I see?/Do I believe them?/Can I use an action to check the room for anything like traps etc before entering?" Some of that is already happening automatically but I would like to have the option to manually trigger it ONCE every scene/location. Not once per character. Just one check, no reroll.

- access companion inventory

this might already be possible but I'd like the option to access the inventory of companions who aren't on my team currently. It would be incredibly helpful for un-/equipping items when a character isnt on your team currently. maybe the solution to this would be items being stored in a chest when the companion isn't in your team. a chest that is bound to their camp, cant be destroyed or moved etc. and once they join your team youll have to reequip them BUT they'll already have all their stuff right there? idk how hard it would be to implement the auto reequip option when you have the companion join your team

- give Karlach a good ending dammit

She deserves to be happy and I know you can go to Avernus with her but you have to leave your love interest behind unless you romances Wyll and that sucks so much ass.

What would you like to see in future patches? What do you think won't ever happen but you'd wish to see anyway?

[thelittlepinkwitchblog]

THE SEAGULLS OF WATERDEEP - A ONESHOT

First off, hello I am not dead just inactive.

I don't usually post much of my writing but here I am, and I'll be 100% honest, this idea has been bouncing around my brain since i made that initial post I dont know when (idk how to link posts but its there somewhere), about the Seagulls of Aberdeen by Scottish comedy group Weegie Hink Ae That? With respect to the source of my setting (the person whose story has me in a vice grip), this one-shot takes place in sort of the “in-between-scenes” of a story like @galebrainrot2024 ‘s on-going series, a former school rivals to friends to more (?) Kind of story. Come into my mind scape, where Tav went to Blackstaff with Gale as kids, they were rivals, and for whatever reason Tav went on to multiclass as a Sorcerer-Bard in order to make a better living or fulfill a passion or whatever, I didn't really think about that until I'm literally writing this intro thing. I like my Tav being F personally but I wrote this as an genderless Tav so I hope everyone can enjoy ^_^

Setting - the party camps in a relatively safe area for the night, allowing everyone to relax a bit from the Ilithid problem, along with the array of personal quests to be fulfilled. Gale made a hearty stew and everyone decided that they should have a little bit of wine as a treat for their weeks of steady hard work. Karlach was the first companion found by Tav after the crash, and so she requested a song the bard had played before meeting the rest of the party. Takes place after the meeting with Elminster.

***

“Oh, oh, sing that funny one about the seagulls!” Karlach almost vibrated from excitement, the heat of her skin radiating more than the well tended campfire. Tav looked around, at the reactions of their companions. Halsin and Wyll both nodded at them encouragingly, Astarion shrugged nonchalantly. Gale had been quiet for days, as quiet as one could expect from him; ever since Elminster quelled the orb with Mystra's blessing, so that he could, well, never mind. Tav observed him as he ran his fingers over the hem of his purple linen chemise, a silent glimpse into the torrent of his mind. “You'll love this one wizard, it's about your home turf.” Having caught on to her friend's gaze, the teifling deliberately brought the wizard from his thoughts and into the circle of conversation.

“Honestly, I would love to hear it.” He did his best to smile, to seem like his usual self, but Tav could see a forlornness deal within his eyes, having taken root in his heart since the orb was silenced.

“Yes, Tav. Do indulge us.” Shadowheart added, taking another sip of wine.

Tav waved their hand, silently summoning a lute with their Bardic Arcana, an act of casual magic that made Gale's heart skip, though for a moment he thought it was the now slumbering orb. Checking the tune with a single strum across the cords, Tav's lips curled into a cat's grin, obviously pleased to have been asked to provide entertainment during their rest. “Alrighty then, if you know the words, sing along.” Playing a simple intro, Tav began to sing, their accent, what dear readers would recognize as Scottish, clearly audible. “Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep, have you seen the fucking size of the seagulls in Waterdeep?” Expecting a ballad that was aforementioned funny, Gale surprised himself when he burst out laughing with everyone else after the first crass line.

“Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep, I watched one fight a granny at the Harbour in Waterdeep.”

Karlach joined into a rough harmony, Tav altering their pitch to accommodate the joyful teifling. “I thought I must be Water-dreamin’ up I wasnae, the big ol' bastard's devil eyes staring right through me. I thought I must be Water-dreamin’ but I wasnae, the big ol’ bastard chased me down and tried to kill me.” Shadowheart, Wyll, and Halsin all joined in with the chorus, Astarion enjoyed the spectacle too much to join, Lae'zel had left to train, and Gale was too busy marveling at how easily Tav smoothed over any friction that may have arisen during the day; any disagreement or tension between comrades was quickly forgiven or forgotten the moment they sat by the fire with their lute and vocal chords. As the bridge came and Tav's voice easily shifted higher, their eyes met for a single moment before the bard turned to Karlach, saying something quickly between verses. “Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep they scream. Karlach, make the seagulls noise! Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep they scream,”

“Wawa wawawa wawawa wawawawa!” With her whole chest, Karlach did her best seagull impression, flapping her hands to imitate wings.

“Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep they scream,”

“Wawa wawawa wawawa wawawawa!” Shadowheart had joined Karlach's impression, her cheeks red from the wine most of them had consumed with the dinner Gale had prepared.

“Oh the seagulls o'er in Waterdeep,” Slowing the tempo, none knew the final line the Bard would deliver, the final blow to a song that almost had tears of laughter flow. “I watched one bust a nut at the Harbour in Waterdeep.” Shaking his head as Tav flourished on the lute in finality, he struggled for breath as his fingers clasped the bridge of his nose.

A moment of applause rang through the clearing as Tav said their thanks and seemed to humbly accept whatever praise or criticism came their way. Though no complement could surpass Gale’s; Tav's heart swelled almost painfully at his breathy laughs as he muttered to himself with a half smile, almost hiding his face in his hand to suppress himself. “Oh sweet Gods above, I needed that.”

***

please be kind to me with criticisms, be constructive but I'm sensitive k thanks

Okay, I love you, Gods bless ♡ bye ♡

[an-excellent-choice]

I was recently gushing at a friend about bg3 but didn't want to spoil her in the romance and the characters backstory.

So, I started comparing everybody with Dragon Age companions to give her an idea on everybody's personality.

Now I need to complete this list just for the sake of it.

Astarion: Zevran, Isabela, Morrigan

I know a lot of people compare Astarion and Fenris but honestly, I personally don't see them being similar enough( yes even with the slavery and white hair) they are just two different flavors especially in personality. They are similar in broad strokes but in the details not really.

Now with Zevran and Isabela, I can see. These two very sexual characters both use their sexualities and their daggers to manipulate those around them.

They both cope with their trauma with putting a mask of light heartedness and sexual freedom. The main difference of between Zevran and Isabela to Astarion is that Astarion is more upfront with his trauma.

The Morrigan aspect is his pragmatism. Astarion's killed or killed is similar to Morrigan. They both hate helping people as they don't see anything beneficial it. They are so used to the absence of kindness that any they see from the protag is seen as naivety or even fakeness because if there truly kindness in the world why did they never experienced themselves.

Gale: Anders, Merril, Solas

So the common trait I established from these characters that I see in Gale is them being blinded by their goals. These 3 all kind and mean well but they think their way is the only way to fix things. All these three are self serving to their selfish desires to the point it overwrites any kindness they have. They want to do something drastic to help others. Solas with elves, Merril her missing friends and Anders with mages but in the price of themselves.

Personality wise,Merril is also similar to Gale with her akwardness and naivety. Gale has a tendency to do akward moments in his enthusiasm and lackk experience in socializing. While the Solas is love information and informing others, he's very welcoming in sharing experiences.

Now, Anders. Specifically Anders dao and da2 Act 1-2 because Gale would never justify the means justifies the end mentality in act3 of da2. The basics commonalities: cat dad, mage, time bomb but the most damning similarity is that both Gale and Anders thought that they know better even though they were already warned. Gale with the piece of weave and Anders with Justice. They both essentially shot themselves in the foot by ignoring the warning signs.

(I'm not including Merril in the shooting of foot because her ritual was tampered she knew her risks and had actually prepared a kill switch just in case)

Wyll: Cassandra, Merril, Varric

The main thing I focused on this trio is responsibility. All these 3 has certain responsibility or expectations set upon them with a main conflict of whether they should just follow expectations or do their own will even at the price of losing support or their people

Wyll has heavy expectations on him and he himself always tries to put the well being of others before him even at the price of his soul.

Now personality-wise, Cassandra is an old romantic. Just like Wyll they both enjoy poetry and wooing. They both live for the romance even though they try hard to focus on only their duty they cant hide their soft squishy hearts.

Merril is kind and is always torn with her abandoning her duty to do what she thinks is needed to be done. She loves her people so much she will bear being seen as a monster to try to help them. *cough* wyll is the same*cough

Varric is charming as fuck but he also is kindaa running away from his responsibility until finally he was forced to take a stand. He accidentally helped start aspects of the mess but he will be damned if he doesnt try to help.

Okay, I'm running out of steam now. I'll do a part 2 for the ladies as this is also too long now.

[simplysslytherin]

Imagine being on a The Bachelor/Bachelorette type of show with all the companions as potential love interests. Astarion went along with it, not expecting to actually fall the hardest for you.

Interview room Astarion (former magistrate current vampire)

So honestly I just got on this show to see the world for free, and get away from my shitty master.

But honestly, I didn't know I would like actually care for them! I figured it out after I caught Gale doing that stupid magic thing with them. I wanted to rip his pompous throat out. However, I'm a man of class, so I didn't. I care too much to hurt Tav like that.

Now I'm in the final three with Gale and Wyll. I need to confess everything. I want us to have something real after all of this, they deserve it. I hope Tav just doesn't hate me. I want them to be happy even if its not with me. I love them. I really do and I have to tell them everything

[robinyourcreator]

now that i have recruited all the origin companions, Adana's impressions!

goth cleric wife: FIRST first impression was: well, that face is going to haunt her for the rest of my life, however long that is. (so far, longer than she has expected!) but after that it has been "handle with care" and "for the love of god do NOT show how invested you are in keeping her good opinion." pretty much went ride or die best buddies immediately, and largely, goth cleric has responded in kind.

vampire elf: 0% attracted to him at all. growing up rich and then going to bard college both have just completely inoculated her against his type. but he's a funny little man and she's happy to help him out and call him a friend. has kept her kid gloves on for him as well. everything about him just screams "handle with care."

gith fighter friend: honestly the practical voice Adana needs but I Robin the player have been avoiding bc Adana so very often does things she Disapproves of. VERY funny lady though.

warlock best boy: aha! a dashing and princely young man, the sort of hero ballads are written about and the sort of man she would like to be, when the being a man mood takes her. a good friend.

pretty wizard man: another funny little man! true to form, he immediately stuck his foot in his mouth by saying Adana clearly wasn't an arcane practitioner (SHE DID HER TIME IN BARD COLLEGE, HOW DARE YOU--) also had a VERY funny reaction to Raphael's deal. Sir. I know you think you're the smartest man alive sir and you may even be right about that but the statistics DO NOT work out in your favor on the outwitting devils portfolio. Adana certainly doesn't think SHE'S clever enough to beat a devil at his own game, and she'd rather not wager anyone's souls on Gale being clever enough, either. Never bet anything you can't lose!

hot barbarian friend: BEST GIRL LET'S GOOOOOOO everyone adores her immediately and Adana is no exception. immediately ride or die best buddies. extremely friend shaped. devastated she can't give her hugs. would 100% write the coolest ballads about her if asked.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 26

Morning finally arises and boy am I glad that I can’t be exhausted. Sleep is still nice while immortal; a full night’s sleep gets my brain functioning fully. On top of that, if I sleep, I feel more powerful than before, which is well needed in these strange times. I turn over to face Gale, noticing him wide awake with Jenevelle in his arms. She notices me waking up, smiling and cooing as she becomes alert.

“Ah, my little baby. Such a happy girl,” I remark, admiring her. Gale chuckles and rolls his eyes as if that wasn’t a true statement. She could never be a handful.

“Mmm, not this morning. On top of her wanting a bottle super early, which she let me know with anger by the way, she had a massive blowout like you wouldn’t believe. I had to bathe her and then eventually bathe myself. I’m just glad you got your rest after last night.” I snuggle my head into his neck comfortably.

“Well, Mr. Dekarios, I’d be happy to stay here while you go kick some Bhaalspawn arse.” He laughs and shrugs his bare shoulders, placing our daughter on my chest. I know he had an eventful morning with her, but I honestly love that he didn’t complain.

“Let’s chat with our counterparts –”

“Friends,” I interrupt, giving him a smirk.

“Right. Then we can come up with a plan.” Well damn, this means we will either need to visit most of our friends by foot, or we can visit with Withers. So, we are going the easy route and summoning Withers because walking all over Waterdeep is the biggest of hassles. For the purpose of Jenevelle not getting terrified, we place her in her playpen in the living area for a few moments while we discuss important matters with him in the kitchen. Tara is keeping her company in the meantime.

Gale performs the summoning spell and Withers appears before our very eyes, which never fails to make me jump because it either takes him one minute to appear or ten minutes. Either way, his entry is startlesome.

“Ah, does thou need assistance? I assume companionship is what is desired.”

“Good to see you again, Withers. Yes, that is the matter we wanted to discuss with you,” Gale responds. “Can you have them come our way please?”

“I can, but please be advised that Jaheira has passed on and Minsc is in a grieving state over her unpredicted death.” My jaw drops hearing this devastating news over Jaheira. No. This can’t be. I’m just now hearing about this?

“Wait…how did she die?” I ask, my voice cracking as I’m holding back tears. “It can’t be.”

“The Bhaalists. Jaheira’s soul flies on and is as bright as the moonlight. She protected the ones she loved and told them to run. I can say no more on the matter.”

“The Bhaalists…got her?”

“Yes.” Gale and I are astonished at this horrible news I didn’t expect to hear today. And Minsc? Oh poor Minsc. His heart must be so shattered. “Shall I alert thy companions for your needs?”

“Yes please,” I murmur, my heart shattered, and a tear delicately rolling down my cheek. Gale pulls me in for a gentle hug, holding me close as I cry into his chest. “Not Jaheira.”

Withers comes back after roughly five minutes.

“Thy companions should arrive here soon. Death and danger lie ahead, but those strong enough to bear it can end the darkness of Bhaal.” Poof. He vanishes again, leaving behind a cloud of blue smoke.

“Well, it’s happening. Hopefully our little group would be willing to conquer this journey with us. I’m so sorry we had to hear such horrible news,” Gale says apologetically. “From what I gathered from that, she told her family to run. It was just her against these horrible people, if you can even call them that.”

“They’re far from human. They’re deranged monsters.”

What is causing these horrible cultists to go on a rampage like this all of a sudden? I assume Bhaal had plans for them since Orin is no longer in the picture. They feared her, they obeyed her. They knew they couldn’t compete. Now that she’s dead, it’s a battle to the death to take her spot. Their God is vile and I’ll never understand his charms.

Everyone arrives at the tower quicker than we expected. Well, mostly everyone – excluding Minsc and Lae’zel. We open the door and everyone comes inside to gather around the living area. We all pour ourselves a glass of wine as we get ready to discuss the next steps.

“The babies… What are we to do?” Shadowheart questions, holding her baby in her arms. She genuinely looks terrified, and understandably so. The same fear eats me alive like a virus.

“My dear, you should stay with Emmy. I’m a vampire after all, I have nothing to fear. I’ll get to thirst on these heinous, filthy Bhaalists like it’s a buffet. I can’t wait. Plus, I need you and the child safe.”

“On top of that, you’ll get to be with Jenevelle and I. I could use the company,” I add. She gasps in excitement and Astarion takes the baby from her so she can jump up and down.

“Okay, I’m sold.”

“Wow, that was easy. Normally it’s hard to convince–” Shadowheart glares at Astarion for a moment and he clears his throat. “I mean, I’m glad you’ll be staying, my love.” I feel much more comfortable at the idea of staying home with Jenevelle now if it means Shadowheart would stay. Some sort of adult conversation will at least keep my mind at ease.

“Wyll and I will ABSOLUTELY join! We have nothing to live for,” Karlach chimes in. Wyll raises his eyebrow and cocks his head at her in confusion, and I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same thing.

“Hey now!”

“Sorry, that came off much worse out loud than it did in my head.” I burst out in laughter, which caused me to snort, which I tried not to do but it caused another laughing fit. Astarion is giving me a petty look of judgment, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

“Alright, which one of you fools casted Tasha’s Hideous Laughter on this poor soul?” Astarion mutters. “Unbelievable.”

“Count me in as part of the team against these vile murderers,” Halsin comments. “May we restore peace once more and get justice for Jaheira.” Every single one of us holds up our wine glasses for a toast, and we all say simultaneously, “For Jaheira.” Both babies are lying on the rug on their bellies, trying to figure each other out. It’s so cute to see Jenevelle make her first friend, though Shadowheart and Astarion’s baby Asher will eventually age and ours will not. At least Asher is a half-elf, which means it might take him longer to age anyway.

“Well, when should we leave? I’ll need to pack some necessities for the adventure there,” Gale questions as he sits down on the sofa next to me. “I really hope we aren’t gone too long.” Sadness can be heard within his voice; it will be so hard for him to leave us.

“The sooner the better, before the already dire situations get much worse,” Astarion replies. “I just want to get this over with. And I suppose the less deaths around the world, the better. The old me would never say that.”

“So, tomorrow then? I’m with Astarion on this one,” Wyll chimes in. “For once.”

“Tomorrow it is then!”

I did not realize they’d all be leaving so soon, but I suppose it’s best they leave as soon as possible. Who knows how long Gale will be away from us and what sort of dangers they’ll run into? All I have to say is, thank the Gods he’s immortal otherwise I’d lose my shit.

“I’ll miss you,” I tell him as he wraps me in his warm embrace. He kisses my forehead as he holds me, hesitating on his next word. I know he’s just taking it all in.

“I’ll miss you too. Hopefully we won’t be gone terribly long.”

“You two are so fucking cute! It…makes me want to cry,” Karlach comments with a dramatic sniffle. “Sorry, I just love sappy shit like this.” Wyll wraps his arm around Karlach, laughing as he pulls her close and kisses the side of her head. “There it is. About time, Wyll.”

After everyone leaves, Gale packs his backpack with necessities needed for the dreaded adventure back to Baldur’s Gate and I decide to get dinner started. I just hope they can all at least get rid of the sick, monstrous fucks that are murdering everyone. I also keep hoping that Gale’s mother is alright. She’s older and fragile, I can’t imagine anything happening to her. While she lives in Waterdeep, I just know the cultists are bound to head here at any given time if they haven’t already.

We sat down at the table ready to eat dinner. Tara joins us, but basically licks her paws the whole time.

“I will do my best to protect our friends the best I can,” Gale mutters, taking a bite of venison. “I will do my damned best to get rid of the source of this catastrophe. After seeing the horrific influence Bhaal has on people, it makes me so glad I never chose godhood.”

“I agree completely. I can’t imagine you losing yourself for power like that. And you probably would have left me behind and we wouldn’t have the life we have now. I can’t fathom it.” We talk about it a lot, but it’s true. The influence a god has on people is terrifying. What if Bhaal was once a good person and turned to murder once he became a god?

It’s time for Jenevelle to go to sleep. I’m letting Gale feed her and prepare for her bed since he will leave early tomorrow morning.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he mumbles to her as he gives her a bottle. “May you always stay so precious and sweet. I love you so very much. You are the greatest gift anyone could have ever given me.” He smiles down at her as she watches him speak. His soothing voice makes her eyes heavy and she looks as if she’s going to fall asleep in his arms.

[lorenhearsawho]

Self Indulgent Baldur's Gate OC Post

I love looking at people's OC, and so I thought to myself, "ah, yes, it is my turn..."

Ezra, oh, my sweet baby boy...

Drow Rogue Assassin :p

Literally, just some dude that got picked up. No, he does not care about dying or living, really. He just kinda does everything because people ask him to.

He was just a homeless guy before getting picked up, so honestly, this is probably the best thing to have happened to him.

Burned his face from a cooking accident a long time ago and did not bother healing himself.

Has a bad habit of just taking things because he can... "Finders keepers", he says.

In a relationship with Gale because he was the first companion to admit having feelings for him, so he just kinda rolled with it. (yes, he is faithful.)

Atarah >:D

Mephistopheles Tiefling Rogue Assassin (I only ever play this class...)

My Durge... My evil, evil princess... My sexy, evil femme fatale... No, she doesn't spit on or step on, she is far too elegant. Beheading and impaling are more her style. ("Don't expect me to take this lying down, that's more your style from what I can tell...")

I literally made her just for Gorty. I love Gort x Durge content.

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

HATES Orin. Kill her immediately.

Virginia :3

Mephistopheles Tiefling Fighter Battle Master

Someone please save her, she does not want to be here. She is so scared. Will complain, and then cry about it. But, she tries her absolute hardest to be good!! Promise!!

A family guy™ (I made her with my cousin. She's twins with a bard named Georgia. She does all the hard work, while Virginia just kinda punches when told to.)

Cut herself with her own sword, trying to learn how to fight... Oopsies xP

Not a great talker... Not really good at most, really...