#looting them all for Astarion and Lae'zel

[lepusrufus]

At this point I'm not doing neither a good nor evil play

I'm doing an "if you touch a single hair physically or metaphorically on my companions heads you can taste my eldrich blast fucker" play

[ruairy]

.

[nethereasypeasy]

Some fluffy head canons I have about the Baldurs Babes

mainly at camp :)

Gale stops tav to lace their boots, sarcastically tutting as he does it.

Karlach holds her hands round someones bowl and cups to warm them if they cool down too much. (Mama K microwave™)

Jaheira and Halsin share nightcaps and chat about the tadpole team. Mainly laughing at their comparative lack of experience - always ends on a 'they're good eggs tho' vibe.

Astarion and Shadowheart rate people's hair to eachother as an injoke, tav hears them mumbling numbers behind them whenever they speak to someone.

Lae'zel asks Gale to explain and pronounce things when no one is around because the 'annoying wizard' won't make fun, he's too eager to teach.

Jaheira has the best bedtime stories but they get Karlach hyped up and she asks a lot of questions till Astarion begs her to be quiet. Wyll takes mental notes for his own storytelling.

Karlach will force a game of 'I Spy' any time there is silence on the road.

Wyll is very good at little random gifts, he just remembers anything someone mentions to him. He's also low-key emotional if you return that kindness, 'you remembered?! 😭'

Halsin stops, kneels and whispers as he points and shows tav interesting plants or animals he spots when walking. 'look there's the mother and her babies' type shit. (He is camp dad(dy) ok)

Wyll teaches Lae'zel fencing. She's too keen though and tries to pin him down. She is not as graceful... But she has fun... chk!

Gale keeps a tiny portrait of Tara on him, you can't tell me modern au Gale's phone wouldn't be full of cat pics.

Astarion watches over the camp at night, he acts like he 'might as well/ I'm the only one lurking in the dark around HERE darlings' but sometimes he secretly gets a little teary looking at his first real friends all together.

Shadowheart writes moody poetry. She would tell Gale but she doesn't care for his taste... Or his possible critiques. If he ever did find her journal though he would be VERY enthused.

Astarion and tav will play with people's wardrobes when looting. Tav loves a funny hat and Astarion will do impressions of who he thinks would wear such god's awful attire.

Gale and Wyll play chess together after dinner some nights. They both say progressively cheesy lines when they take pieces, which is its own game itself at this point.

Halsin would quietly sing or hum to owlbear baby and scratch at night. Little lullabies and he'd probably tuck them in too. OR he'd be big daddy bear and snuggle up, especially when owlbear is scared and misses his mum.

The gang have played 'never have I ever' ONE time and ONE time only. It was a messy night.

... Jaheira was 100% last man standing.

[talesofesther]

first in my heart

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion hasn't seen his own face in 200 years and this bothers you deeply. You find a solution to finally show him how you see him, yet it leads to much more than simply that.

A/N: Gotta thank my sweet @iamnicodemus for encouraging me to write this. Undoubtedly one of the sweetest things I've ever written.

Word count: 4,7k

Masterlist

"I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

It was something that lurked in the corners of your mind, those words of his. No matter how many days passed, you couldn't shake them off. It saddened you deeply. Each new passing mention about the last two centuries of Astarion's life drove a knife into your heart and twisted bitterly.

To the naked eye, it was imperceptible, never there. Even now, as you sat around the warm bonfire, watching as the pale elf bickered halfheartedly with Gale, he seemed as ordinary as your group of misfits could be. His smile loose, adorning those sharp fangs you'd become quite familiar with; silver hair curling delicately around pointy ears; deep red eyes reflecting the fire embers with a unique shine whenever he'd steal glances at you. He was the embodiment of lightheartedness and witty remarks, eccentric, unbothered, and with a quick tongue for anything.

And yet, he wasn't, not always. You felt secretly privileged, in a way, to be able to see the real him—to be allowed to. To hold him close when he wakes up gasping for air he didn't quite need and with watery eyes in the dead of the night; to softly kiss each and every scar on his back, whispering promises of love where before he had only known pain; to remind him again and again of his worth.

Astarion had a side to him you were slowly uncovering; you think, that he himself is only now uncovering as well. Vulnerable and fragile, broken but not beyond repair, yearning to be cradled by gentle hands.

He deserves to be mended, you know it in your heart. To get back what was taken from him. And you wanted to help, if only a little.

Earlier today as you ventured through Baldur's Gate, you stumbled upon a discarded sketchbook. It was a little dirty and a little worn, but it was still very much usable. Amidst your—many—questionably valuable loot, you knew you had a few good pencils to spare too.

It's been long since you picked up some paper and let your mind run free—before your whole adventure, to be precise. Maybe you'd be a little rusty around the edges and it would take a few tries to get him close to perfect, but you had time; or, you'd make time. He deserved as much.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

The lines that made him him came almost like second nature to you, maybe because you'd traced those same features with your fingertips countless times before within these last weeks. Ever since he admitted he'd fallen for you beyond his plans of seducing you, things had been easier, lighter. He allowed himself to be cherished and you were more than happy to do so.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you created curly strands of his hair with your pencil. Delicate and precise, even for the mess that was his curls.

The sky bathed in shades of orange, pink, and baby blue as the sun lowered in the distance. The camp was as lively as it usually was during the evenings. Karlach was playing fetch with Scratch and the Owlbear cub, the latter who was mostly just running around aimlessly. Gale and Wyll were hunched over the fire doing something you could only hope wouldn't end in mild disaster. Lae'zel sharpened her blades, a scratching sound piercing your ears from afar. Shadowheart looked to be in deep conversation with Astarion, to which the vampire gestured wildly as he apparently tried to make a point.

You never expected that your unfortunate encounter with a mind flayer would give you a makeshift family, but you were thankful that it did. For better or worse, you were all in this together, and that was comfort and motivation enough.

With the strangely soothing sounds of laughter and bickering, you turned your attention back to your sketchbook. Going back one page, you had already finished a rough sketch of Astarion's profile, focused on the contrast of his sharp nose and soft curls. Now, on the next page, you were working on a more elaborate portrayal of his features, depicting a look he often wore when you sauntered over to him; the faint smile on his lips that had grown all the softer ever since you first met; the gentle tilt of his head as his eyebrows scrunched expectantly; the sharp and alluring eyes who could pierce into your soul.

"What are you up to, my sweet?"

The sudden honey-coated voice startled you, you jumped slightly on your seat and hastily covered the pages on your lap with your forearms.

The elf himself stood only a few feet in front of you, his lips pursed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to peek past your arms.

You chuckled timidly, "Nothing, I was just- just resting a bit." Shrugging nonchalantly as you smiled.

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you but didn't push it, he never did. "Gale is trying to make us something to eat with what he got from the vendors today," he gestured behind himself and to the fire where Gale stood in front of, "I wouldn't be the first to try it out if I were you but I'm dying to know everyone's opinion on it." A sly smirk got his fangs poking out, "bonus points if someone vomits it out."

You shot him an amused look, biting back a laugh. You never quite got why he had this little rivalry with Gale—besides the fact he wasn't overly fond of Gale's flirting attempts with you in the beginning, but that had long since subsided. To be honest, you think it's more routine than anything else at this point, for show and amusement; a friendly rivalry.

Slightly cold fingertips caught hold of your chin when you didn't answer, his thumb pressing against the corner of your mouth as Astarion held you. "Do join me, will you?"

The smile you still wore shifted into something sweeter, reserved only for him. And you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily. "I will… in a moment."

Astarion blinked at your briefly evasive answer, but nodded anyway, "I'll… be waiting."

He walked away, slow steps taking him towards the commotion around the campfire. You felt a little bad for denying him company right away, but it was for a good cause, you had to follow your streak of inspiration if you wanted to finish the drawing to the best of your abilities.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Dinner proved to be pleasant, tasty even, for Gale's culinary standards. This time of day had to be one of your favorites, with everyone sitting together around the fire at night and forgetting about life's misfortunes for a moment.

You sat by a rock, leaning your back against it as your shoulders shook with laughter at one of Halsin's stories. Astarion had plopped down by your side not long ago, the weight of his shoulder resting against yours as comforting as it always was. He took just a while longer to take your hand in his tonight, cold fingers hooking around yours and squeezing as he brought your joined hands to rest on his thigh.

Everything felt so new, you thought of yourself as a giddy teenager sometimes; heart fluttering with each lingering touch and stolen glance. For most of the time, you let Astarion set the pace of things, giving him the freedom to choose to be by your side. And there wasn't a time when he chose not to be.

He played with your fingers, palm to palm as if to compare sizes, alluring red eyes focused solely on where you touched. Innocent, boyish even. It was new for him too, you thought, perhaps much more than it would ever be to you.

And then your mind drifted back to the gift you had been steadily creating for him, excitement twirling in your stomach. You leaned closer, lips brushing the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder, "I'm gonna head to my tent for a bit, got a few things to organize. I'll find you later, yeah?"

A low hum fell past Astarion's lips, his eyes flicked to you, all big and vulnerable. "Oh, alright," his voice quiet and sweet.

You smiled, squeezed his hand, and planted a kiss on the corner of his lips. His eyes never left you as you walked away.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

It had never been on his plans, falling for you. It wasn't even something he considered would happen when he first started to slip a few honeyed words your way. But then you threw his heart off course with your tender touches and whispers of comfort, leaving telltales of your warmth all over his cold body. And he was a goner.

The last time Astarion dared to care about someone, he endured a year of punishment locked away, alone, starving, and crying for help that wouldn't come. There had been a fear, clawing at the back of his mind as he watched himself crumble for you; a fear that this would end much the same.

When he finally bared his heart for you—shaking like a leaf with the proverbial organ stretched out in his hands—he expected you to deny him, scream at him, maybe even send him away.

You didn't.

You said you cared for him. You hugged him.

There was no one else in the world like you, he decided.

Three dangerous words lingered on Astarion's tongue each time he woke up to your sleeping form beside him. For the time being, he settled for kissing the shape of them into your skin, over and over, until maybe one day you figured it out.

He scoffed at himself, finally tearing his gaze away from where you sat on the other side of the camp. If his much younger self saw him now, he'd probably be laughing. Or he'd be very envious. No in-between.

Stars danced in the night sky, alongside a half-moon dusted with faint clouds. It was late, most of the group had already turned in for the night, with Karlach keeping watch, as much to her dismay, it was her turn.

Astarion ran his tongue over his fangs, grip tightening on the book he had in his hands. He'd been trying to read the same page for minutes now.

There was no one else in the world like you. He wondered when you'd realize that. When you'd realize that you were infinitely too good for the likes of him.

With a shiver running down his spine, Astarion worried that you might have started to.

It's been a few days now that you've been… distant; tucked away in your tent whenever you settled camp, not sparing him much time of day, at least not nearly as much as you used to.

With an annoyed click of his tongue, as he closed his book, Astarion realized he missed you, even with you sleeping side by side each night. How needy of him.

But he missed your mindless talks by the fire as everyone settled in for the night; he missed your walks through town just before sunset or sunrise; he missed the causality, the simplicity of calling you his. He'd gotten used to the sweet routine quite quickly.

The thought that you might already be growing tired of him made his dead heart clench agonizingly inside his chest. He glanced back at you, hunched over your makeshift desk as you scribbled something down in a book, Scratch lying by your feet. That is a kind of pain he wasn't sure he could endure.

Perhaps against his better judgment, his feet carried him to you anyway; yet he hesitated, words heavy on his tongue. Astarion stood awkwardly behind you, fidgeting with the edges of his shirt and praying that anyone who might still be awake wouldn't look this way. Scratch raised his head when the elf approached, a whine coming from him as his head tilted from side to side as if he wanted to ask what was wrong. Seems even the dog pities his predicament.

Old habits die hard and Astarion couldn't help but assume the worst, every time. He doesn't know how to be with someone, doesn't know the first thing about being in a relationship—was that what you two had? It's not like you ever labeled it. Maybe he did something wrong, and that's why you've been limiting your time with him.

"Astarion?"

With several blinks, his eyes focused again, only to see you regarding him with a frown, hand resting atop the closed book you had been writing in. Now your head was the one tilting inquisitively.

"Is everything okay?"

Still, your voice would always be sweetest to his ears.

Astarion shook his head softly to clear the fog his insecurities had brought and plastered a smile on his lips. "Of course, my darling," he approached, extending a hand to your sitting form and twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers, "I just think you should be getting your beauty sleep by now. Come warm up my bed, won't you?"

The faint blush that dusted your cheeks whenever he sweet-talked you would never cease to endear him. "We can read that book you're so fond of if you don't want to sleep, the cheesy romance one," Astarion purred, his pointer finger tracing the edges of your jaw.

You turned your head, planting a small kiss on his palm. "I'll be going soon, just want to finish something first. You can read without me, I don't mind."

But how could he ever tell you, that the words looked blurry and tangled without you by his side?

Longer than an hour had gone by when you finally decided to come to his tent. The night was mostly quiet, eery, with only the sounds of crickets, frogs, and the crackling of the dying fire. Astarion lay on his side, back turned towards the tent's opening. He didn't need sleep, not really, some meditation here and there would usually be enough to keep his energy up. But it was a habit he'd picked up when you started sleeping together through the night.

He wasn't asleep tonight, however. He heard your footsteps approaching him, quiet and cautious so as to not disturb him. He felt you lying down beside him, ever so slowly.

Astarion closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold himself back and failing miserably. One taste of your affection had been enough to get him hopelessly addicted.

He turned, shuffling closer and curling his body around you. His arm went over your stomach and tugged lightly, like a kitten asking for attention. You didn't say anything as you closed your arms around him, your lips finding the bridge of his nose and then his forehead. Words were futile when actions spoke the loudest.

Your gentle touches, the way you hold him without malice, he could hardly get enough of it. Your arms wrapped around him and your lips grazed his skin with lingering kisses, and it didn't hurt, it didn't burn or make him feel sick. You were the first one to ever do it, to hold him without hurting him.

Astarion nuzzled your neck, burying himself in the feeling, gladly drowning in it as he drank every last drop. Tears prickled his eyes, they usually did on nights like these and he's never quite sure why. Maybe it's because of the way your fingers gently tangled in his hair yet didn't tug or scrape; maybe it's the way you tighten your hold on him as if trying to mend his fragile heart; maybe it's because of how much he longed for someone like you to come and save him, on nights where all he knew were pain and unwelcomed caresses that scarred his skin more than any blade ever could.

And now, he wanted to lose himself in the comfort he found, that you so generously provided. His fingers closed forcefully on the fabric of your shirt, nearly ripping it, afraid you'd leave if he held you any looser. The fear of waking up alone and finding out that he'd lost you was all too consuming, tugging at his heartstrings.

He closed his eyes and rogue tears dampened the collar of your shirt. It was okay, it would be dry come morning, you wouldn't know. You were warm, you chased away everything that haunted him.

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

You stared at it intently. You have been staring at it for a while now, teeth chewing at the inside of your cheek in nervousness and anticipation. You checked it once, twice, turning the pages with careful fingers. The sketchbook wasn't filled, it would take too long to do so, but at least half of the pages inside it held some kind of scribble. Art pieces of various styles and levels of progression, some much more detailed than others, some mere hasty lines put together to paint a dear image you wanted to keep for a while longer. All of them of him. A book filled with the pointy ears and pale hair you adored so much.

You could only hope he would adore it just as much.

It was early in the morning and the day had yet to properly start. Most of your companions were still tucked away in their tents, some huddled around the burned logs of the fire from last night, coffee mugs in their hands and a sleepy look on their faces. You were never much of an early bird yourself, but today you made a point of rising before Astarion—you were lucky he'd picked back up the habit of sleeping and wasn't much of an early bird himself.

Hugging the sketchbook to your chest, you padded back to the warmth of his tent. As you opened the flaps, you were greeted with the sight of soft slivers of sunlight coming through the thinner part of the tent's fabric, they glimmered over Astarion's laying form, kissing his pale skin and making it shine.

You could easily get used to it; waking up to him, watching as the early morning rays painted his features golden, small wisps of dust flying in the air only giving him that bit more magical touch.

Astarion had his back to you, so you quietly kneeled beside him, extending a hand to run through his mess of curls; oh how soft they were, molding in between your fingers like seafoam on the shore. You counted yourself remarkably privileged.

You placed the sketchbook behind you so you could lie down, only keeping yourself up on one elbow. Your lips found his temple and the elf lightly stirred in his sleep. You kissed the tip of his ear next, waking him up gently. Always gently. He deserves gentleness.

With a hoarse groan, Astarion turned around to face you. He blinked several times as his ruby eyes adjusted to the soft sunlight, his face adorably scrunched from sleep. An easy, small smile appeared on his lips as soon as his gaze landed on you.

You weren't an early bird, yet you came to love the mornings, if only for this sight alone.

"Good morning, my star," you said quietly so as to not disturb the peace of the moment, still twirling a strand of his hair between your fingers.

He chuckled, "Good morning, beautiful." His voice all husky and deep, one hand finding your waist and trailing all the way up to your neck to pull you closer.

You kissed the corner of his lips and then the apple of his cheek, and Astarion's hold on you only grew tighter, pulling you on top of him. A welp escaped you as you laughed, nuzzling his neck before baring your teeth and giving him a playful nibble.

"Ow, you menace!" The vampire gasped halfheartedly, holding back a grin.

You pulled back from him with the ghost of a smile, bracing yourself on his chest. "I've got something to tell you."

His expression shifted to something you couldn't quite decipher, but he quickly masked it with a teasing tilt of his brows; "Oh? Are you gonna confess your undying love for me?" Both his hands brushed along the sides of your waist, gingerly raising your shirt as his pinkie grazed your skin.

"I thought we'd gone over that part already?" You teased back with a glint in your eyes, pushing yourself back up to sit beside him.

A whimper of complaint escaped Astarion when you separated, but he sat up with you anyway; his hair askew and all over the place, cheeks with the faintest flush to them, eyes just a little droopy, and… a strange stiffness to his shoulders. "What is it, my love?" He wondered, scrunching his nose endearingly when a piece of lint grazed it.

You squirmed in your seat; heart burning hotter than Karlach's in your chest, valves working overtime as the connection you shared enveloped you whole. You haven't actually told him how much you loved him, the four-lettered word hadn't been brought up yet, mostly for fear of the weight it held. But you wanted to, you've been feeling it for a while now.

"Well? Don't leave me in suspense," Astarion chuckled, but the sound didn't feel quite right to your ears, his smile wasn't reaching his eyes. And as you looked at him—one of his hands gripping tightly onto the fabric of his bedroll while the other tapped his knee incessantly; the ruby of his eyes almost nonexistent, covered by shiny black pupils as he looked intently at you, gaze filled with sentiment and vulnerability—you could notice it there now, that lingering fear of solitude gripping at his chest.

For a moment, you berated yourself, for you knew you'd spent quite some time on your little project, and maybe it had affected your routine more than you cared to admit. You felt a nagging guilt and sorrow for making Astarion even consider the possibility of loneliness again.

You tried shrugging it off. It would be worth it—and you'd be showering him with love and affection in just a moment anyway.

"I made something for you." The words rolled off your tongue more easily than you thought they would. You reached behind you with unsteady hands, heart in your mouth as you held onto your breath.

Astarion stared intently at the black sketchbook that was now clasped between your hands. He looked up at you, and back down, lips pursed in confusion.

"Ever since you told me… you haven't seen yourself in so long," you started, voice gentle as your thumbs traced the leather cover of the book. "And asked me how I saw you. I- I kept thinking about it and… when I found this," you wiggled the sketchbook in the air, "I guess I found a way of showing you…"

You extended the book for him to take, lowering your voice to a near whisper; "how I see you."

A short, trembled gush of air went past Astarion's lips. It was a difficult task to get him speechless, yet you had done it. He said nothing as he ever so carefully took the book from your hands, holding it as if the smallest wrong move could break it.

You watched as his throat worked through a heavy gulp, his eyes shining bright under the faint sunlight, swimming in a pool of sentiment and he hadn't even opened the book yet. Or properly looked at it, for that matter; his eyes still trailed on your face, as if waiting for confirmation that you meant it. Only when you gave him a tiny nod, did he finally look down. It hit you hard that this was probably the first gesture of this kind that he had received in his long life.

Shaky, pale hands reached to turn the first page. He hesitated for only a moment, almost looking afraid. About to see himself after 200 years of living as a ghost.

The first drawing you had made in the book wasn't your best, now that you looked down at it again; a simple portrait of Astarion looking down at a book in his hands, a little rough around the edges, hardly detailed. It had been your first try after not drawing for quite some time.

A beat passed, and a drop of water landed on the bottom corner of the page. You whipped your head up, only to see rogue tears steadily dripping down Astarion's cheeks until they reached his chin and fell on his lap. He cried silently, barely moving; the only signs being the obvious tears and the quivering of his lower lip.

He turned each page as if they were made from the purest gold. Stopping at every single drawing of him, to take it all in. He traced his fingertips over the lines that formed the curves of his curls, the tips of his ears, and the slope of his nose and lips.

People had referred to him as many things already; sexy, alluring, charming, attractive. Never had any of them referred to him as something… precious, delicate, bewitching, more than just a pretty face. Yet that's exactly how he saw himself now, through your eyes.

Astarion took his time, never speaking once. You let him, making yourself comfortable beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, simply existing in each other's presence.

Several minutes had gone by when the elf finally spoke up again. He was finally on the last used page of the book, and when the next appeared in white he slowly closed the book, still grasping onto it reverently. "For a moment I- I thought you'd grown tired of me already," it was the first thing he told you, and he refused to meet your eyes. A humorless chuckle fell past his lips, trying to laugh off his feelings.

You raised your head from his shoulder, lifting a hand to tenderly brush long strands of silver hair behind his ear; as you did so, you allowed your fingers to travel further, burying in the mop of hair behind his head. "Never. Never in a million years," you whispered.

Astarion met your gaze at last, ruby eyes glimmering with unshed tears while dried tracks of the ones before still lingered on his cheeks. This was the real Astarion; fragile, vulnerable, pleading for a gentle love, yet so beautifully strong.

"I'm sorry, my star. For allowing that thought to plague you. I just wanted this to be a surprise." You leaned forward and touched your forehead with his for a brief moment, hoping to bend the rules and physically give him your love.

"You made this," Astarion's voice broke in the middle, yet his smile was the most sincere you'd ever witnessed, "For me."

Catching a single tear that rolled down his cheek, you nodded, with a smile of your own.

There was a beat, a moment of silence where you simply looked at each other, wondering if the other felt just as much. And you didn't need a tadpole connection to confirm it.

Astarion set the sketchbook aside before all but throwing himself at you. Both his arms encircled your waist with desperation as he buried his head in your neck. His lips drew sloppy patterns and raised goosebumps in your skin as he kissed you relentlessly, from shoulder, to neck, to jaw; until he finally reached your own lips.

You brought your arms around him, pulling him in until your very souls were intertwined. Giggles escaped your lips as he kissed you, the shape of both your smiles making it difficult and all the more delightful.

When you parted, Astarion had you pinned down on his bedroll, with him resting snuggly on top of you. He refused to let go, clingy as he'd never dreamt he'd be. Your hand buried in his hair, his nose brushed the skin of your collar bone. "I had asked the gods for salvation, for any kind of blessing, countless times before. I could never guess it would come in the shape of you." He breathed in. He didn't hesitate. "Thank you. I love you."

You felt his smile. Felt the shape of his words on your skin, your soul. You kissed his hairline. "And I love you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[madschiavelique]

By any chance, do you have any thoughts about poly tavrem with GN Tav who likes to spend time with Scratch and Owlbear cub a lot? I'm curious :3

omggg so cute

content warnings : none, literally pure fluff word count : 743

shadowheart loves animals, that is no news, thus she definitely spends time with you and the two lovelies whenever she can. she loves seeing you giggle when Scratch comes to lick your face when you're on the ground, the owlbear's beak nudging against your shoulder. she will collect the owlbear's fallen feathers, and will always find some stick or object that she brings to you as a new toy for them.

gale is much more used to cats and tressyms considering his experience with Tara. he is not very fond of a dogs drool and the way its tongue oddly dangles on the side when it huffs in happiness, but seeing your smile when you pat scratch while he looks like so makes you look so beautiful. when night falls and you start running around the camp to play with both pets, he looks at you fondly while he writes a few poems on the way your laugh echoes in the air of his heart.

astarion isn't used to pets, the only animals he ever shared the company of being rats which ended up inevitably being his meals. you had warned him about biting either of your little friends, and he had promised not to touch any of their fur or feathers. when he saw you playing with them though, he almost got jealous of the attention you were giving them instead of him. so, at night when yo'ure sitting with both of them in front of you, astarion approached and sits with you, lacing an arm around your waist to get you closer to him in the hopes of sending to these two small brains that he also is yours.

lae'zel doesn’t get it. she does not get the appeal of any cute creature, as they would be worthless in battle and bring no honour to their owner. although she thinks that using some of your supplies just to feed thes animals is a waste of it, she has heard that dogs are most loyal to their masters and that owlbears once grown can be fierce fighters. when she thinks of the great warrior you are and the loyal beasts you are training for the future, she can't help but be proud and admire such thought

wyll is more of a dog guy, which is why he does spend some time with scratch to play with him. but when he saw you taking such great care of the owlbear cub, which in his adult form would have been quite a threat, he finds it extremelly endearing. the fact you took in these helpless animals by your side and take care of them every day and night and play with them is adorable to him, and he will join you to play with them from time to time.

karlach wants to join the fun you have with them all the time. at the very beginning, she could not approach them, her flames and heat visibly scaring them off much to her sadness. she would see the owlbear's sleepy head lay on your lap while you kissed Scratch on his head and she wished she could do the same. when dammon managed to contain her heat better though, the two were less scared and finally approached her. from this day on, every time you play with them, she comes along and runs around the camp while being chased by the two of them.

halsin's heart fills with joys to the sight of you spending time with the two sweet things. you come to see him often about it, to ask if owlbears or dogs have certain foods they prefer or that could be dangerous to them so that you know what to look for when you loot a new place. he loves the way you are with them, so attentive and sweet, and finds you particularly cute when you talk to them as if they could understand everything you said.

minthara's is not used to such kinds of pets. she owned spiders, much less warm to comfort as these two, and it impressed her how docile you had managed to make them. she doesn't get much of the appeal of having creatures so loud and energetic around you all, but they listen to you and the way your eyes shine when you come back to the camp after a long day and see them waiting for you makes her lips stretch in a smile.

[galedekarios]

gale's early access dialogue transcripts - part 3: dialogues regarding various decisions & quest progression

in early access, companions used to react much more to the decisions you made in dialogue as well as the overall quest progression pertaining to the main quest as well as side quests, and the events happening around them.

these conversations would be shorter in nature and were usually marked with an exclamation mark ( ! ) over their head.

some of these conversations survived the transition from early access to the full release, but they are very few and far between. the only ones that did survive are 1) gale's reaction to nettie poisoning the protag, 2) gale's reaction to saving mirkon, and 3) gale's reaction to saving arabella.

gale was much, much more responsive in early access and had conversations with the protag about a variety of topics.

following are all cut conversations / dialogues with gale (excluding the deer stew scene and loss scene, which i have covered here and here, but have decided to exclude because they are much longer conversations):

overview:

jergal's temple

reaching the druid's grove / emerald enclave

arabella the tiefling child dies / protag stood by and did nothing

protag killed lae'zel after lae'zel tried to prevent them from turning into a mind flayer

karlach vs anders, the paladin of tyr / agent of zariel

after edowin / the siblings brynna and andrick

killing the druids

arriving at the goblin camp

finding out that the absolute's brand is magic

about true souls

dror ragzlin & the dead mindflayer

ogre + bugbear couple in moonhaven

giving the necromancy of thay tome to gale (dialogue option in player-initiated dialogue / gale asks for tome)

on ethel

on ethel's deal

after finishing mayrina's quest

the zhentarim chest / rugan

the myconid colony in the underdark

defending astarion to gandrel the gur monster hunter

handing astarion over to gandrel the gur monster hunter

arka the tiefling (kanon's sister) kills sazza the goblin / protag stood by and watched it happen

letting sazza escape

finding out about priestess gut from sazza

below the read more, you'll find the transcripts of these 23 cut conversations.

where i can and still have them, i will include screenshots and, when i can find them online, i will include links to watch those conversation in video format.

jergal's temple [link to gifset]

Gale: Bad form, isn't it? Grave robbing? Judging by those undead guardians, the architects of this crypt certainly thought so. - Protag Option 1: I'm desperate, not proud. Best to take what I can get.  Gale: Then again, to be alive is to be curious.  - Protag Option 2: Dressing up the dead is pointless. They have no need for trinkets.  Gale: Never lost a loved one, have you? Then again, those who loved these loved ones are dust and bones themselves. - Protag Option 3: A good fight and fine treasure. What's not to like? Gale: I suppose that's one way to spin it. - Protag Option 4: Why care about decorum in a long-abandoned tomb? Gale: Because my mother raised a gentleman. Then again, to be alive is to be curious.  - Protag Option 5 [Cleric]: True. My god might not be particularly happy about it. Gale: You can pray for your sins later. I’m told that does the trick. Gale: Let's have a look at the loot. It isn't for your pockets only.

2. reaching the druid's grove / emerald enclave

Gale: So much for finding a safe haven. - Protag Option 1: This is a druid grove. With a bit of luck we'll find help here.  Gale: Druids master the ancient magic that is part of nature's fabric itself. They can make bloom, and they can make wither. Let's hope the latter applies to tadpoles.  - Protag Option 2: We won't linger long.  Gale: And we shouldn't – but we'd be remiss not to give the place a once-over. Druids master the ancient magic that is part of nature's fabric itself. They can make bloom, and they can make wither. Let's hope the latter applies to tadpoles. 

3. arabella the tiefling child dies / protag stood by and did nothing [link to gifset]

Gale: This place is a snake pit in more ways than one. That poor girl... Such sudden madness.... And what did we do? We stood by and watched. Her parents – we'll have to tell them that we failed.  - Protag Option 1: Our priority remains to find a healer. The most dangerous snake is in our heads, remember? Gale: Distinctly. But it hasn't poisoned my sense of right and wrong just yet. How about yours? - Protag Option 2: We're here on Zevlor's behalf. Let's not lose sight of that.  Gale: Yes, nothing like serving up a dead child as the appetiser to successful negotiations. - Protag Option 3: Her parents deserve to know what happened. And that we are not to blame.  Gale: So inaction equals innocence? There's a small corpse on the floor over there that might just beg to differ. - Protag Option 4: This is none of our concern. Where there's strife, there will be blood. Gale: And where there's blood, there will be vengeance. This troubled grove is about to become far more troubled still. - [Arabella died because protag failed the DC twice] Protag Option 5: The girl really should have left the druid's idol alone. Look where it got her.  Gale: If the errors of youth deserve an early grave, none of us would live to see a dozen summers. There is no justification for this tragedy.

4. protag killed lae'zel after lae'zel tried to prevent them from turning into a mind flayer

Gale: Lae'zel... that was brutal. Are you all right? I'm here if you want to talk about it. - Protag Option 1: Is there anything left to say? Gale: She was alive. Now she is dead. Might be worth a few words. Then again, maybe not. What a night... - Protag Option 2: She was danger to us all. She didn't leave me with a choice.  Gale: I was not judging, merely offering my sympathy.  One moment we are travelling together, then the next... - Protag Option 3: Don't bother. It's over and done with.  Gale: Words as final as your acts. One moment we are travelling together, then the next...

5. karlach vs anders, the paladin of tyr / agent of zariel

Gale: I have to say I don't know if agreeing to this hunt was such a wise idea. Who's to say who's the real villain in this tale of devils and masquerades? - Protag Option 1: Cheer up! It'll be fun.  Gale: Yes, I used to sign up for a round of Kill-The-Stranger every tenday back home [sarcastic]. When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop. - Protag Option 2: You're saying I shouldn't trust a bunch of devil-sworn pretending to be paladins of Tyr? Gale: I'm saying I really shouldn't have to point that out. When we track Karlach down, let's chat before we chop. - Protag Option 3: It's easy: I say who the villain is. Gale: My, so it's you who is Tyr then, the mighty judge of justice?  Go ahead, tell them. I'm sure they'd love to fawn all over their erstwhile patron.

6. after edowin / the siblings brynna and andrick

Gale: I have to say, it's one thing to have a parasite in your head, quite another not to know it's there. What's more, these people weren't on the nautiloid with us. Just how many mind flayers are at work in these parts? - Protag Option 1: The real question is: how does this all link to their belief in this “Absolute”? Gale: Mind flayers excel -> See Option 3 - Protag Option 2: Do you really think there may be more mind flayers around? Gale: This True Soul and his acolytes are ample proof of that...  They 're ample proof of a dread suspicion as well.  - Protag Option 3: Let's move. I don't mean to lose daylight pondering idle questions.  Gale: You really do dismiss these events too casually. - Gale: Mind flayers excel at mind games. To enthral completely is their bread and butter. What if they perfected their craft by convincing their subjects they're not thralls at all, but that they have free will? That the commandments they experience are the will of a benevolent god. How terrifying a level of perfection that would be.

7. killing the druids

Gale: If Silvanus is the mighty oak, his druids were but the weakest of his leaves, tossed by the winds of fury. I can't shake the image of what happened to the grove: the winds have blown and the harvest has come. The oak stands lone and barren.  - Protag [Druid] Option 1: A grove destroyed... I dont think I can forgive myself. Gale: After winter, spring will come, but I'm not sure we left behind much fertile ground. - Protag [Druid] Option 2: The druids caused the harvest. It was only just we did the reaping. Gale: Yes, well, I prefer to pluck apples and pick strawberries. They don't tend to weigh on one's conscience. - Protag Option 3: They were in need of a lesson – and we taught it well. Gale: One usually needs to be alive to reap the benefits of education. If anything, we taught them too well.  - Protag Option 4: They felt threatened and lashed out. A tragedy I wish we could have avoided.  Gale: Their action are on them, that much is true, but the consequences are ours to carry - Protag Option 5: Come, let's move on. What's done is done. Gale: Look around you. What's done is done, but what's wrong is also wrong.

8. arriving at the goblin camp [link to gifset]

Gale: Amid all this grandeur sunk into squalor, I wonder what dismal corner we'll find Halsin in.  - Protag Option 1: Any suggestions? Gale: Prisoners are treated the same by everyone: they serve as serfs, or they waste away in a dungeon. Stands to reason we'll find Halsin in either one of these less-than-appealing conditions.  - Protag Option 2: What grandeur is that? Gale: This must have been a splendid complex once, a temple of impressive proportions. Worshippers lived here. Pilgrims visited. They required food, shelter, ceremony, entertainment. Now that it's nothing but a goblin-ridden death-trap? Plenty of places to hide away a druid, I imagine. - Protag Option 3: With our luck? Marinating in a cooking pot most likely. Gale: A hearty serving of druid stew wouldn't do us any good. No, let's hope the best and keep this in mind: Prisoners are treated the same by everyone: they serve as serfs, or they waste away in a dungeon. If he's still alive, it stands to reason we'll find Halsin in either one of these less-than-appealing conditions. Well -more-than-appealing conditions come to think of it, when one considers the stew alternative.

9. finding out that the absolute's brand is magic

Gut: Hold out your arm so I can mark your flesh. It's charged with magic. Ordinary slobs can't see it; only us that follow the Absolute.  Gale: Charged with magic? Perhaps that explains the ease with which these goblins submit to True Souls.

10. about true souls

Gale: I can hardly wrap my head around what we've just heard. Let's list up the facts, shall we? There are other people here with tadpoles in their heads. They can hear the tadpoles speak to them, and they think it's a new god. I don't know about you, but to me, none of this makes any logical sense.  - Protag Option 1: I concur. There doesn't seem to be a logical explanation. Gale: And yet I suspect something... intelligent behind it all. Some carefully nurtured scheme. - Protag Option 2: I'm seeing too many coincidences – which tend to add up to conspiracies.  Gale: Evil cults and grand designs, is it? Mind you, I'll not even dispute the possibility. - Protag Option 3: I don't care about logic, I care about solutions. Gale: I'm not sure those are mutually exclusive. If we seek to solve we must seek to comprehend.  - Gale: But let's not lose sight of what we've learned here – what joins us and what separates us from these True Souls: They heard a voice we do not hear, a voice that binds them in servitude. As long as we're possessed of our own free will, I venture to say there's hope for us yet.

11. dror ragzlin & the dead mindflayer

Gale: A grand necromantic spectacle staged at the behest of a newfangled god to track down... us. Can't quite say which of these two wins out: to be honoured or to be horrified. - Protag Option 1: The real question is: why are they looking for us? Gale: Several guesses spring to mind, all equally plausible and implausible at once. - Protag Option 2: Not to worry: we easily tricked that hobgoblin – and his god. Gale: We tricked the minion, yes, but its master? I doubt it. - Protag Option 3: Can't say I'm thrilled to be a god's pet project. Gale: Horrified it is then. - Gale: Fact is we're being hunted, but at least we have the hunters at a disadvantage: even here, in the lion's den, they don't recognise us as their prey.

12. ogre + bugbear couple in moonhaven

Gale: One moment they were embracing each other in intimacy, the next they're embracing only death. Can't say I'm proud of our actions here.  - Protag Option 1: Me either. We should have left well enough alone Gale: Don't get me wrong, I know they'd have gladly made us their post-coital picnic given half a chance. It just feels wrong to turn lovemaking into life-taking.  - Protag Option 2: Playing it a bit fast and loose with the word 'intimacy' there, Gale. Gale: I'm not contemplating definitions, I'm contemplating our deeds. Don't get me wrong, I know they'd have gladly made us their post-coital picnic given half a chance. It just feels wrong to turn lovemaking into life-taking.  - Protag Option 3: Don't dwell on it. Ogres and bugbears are nothing but vermin. Gale: And yet they speak and bond and revel. Don't get me wrong, I know they'd have gladly made us their post-coital picnic given half a chance. It just feels wrong to turn lovemaking into life-taking.

13. giving the necromancy of thay tome to gale (dialogue option in player-initiated dialogue / gale asks for tome)

Gale: Much obliged. Narrator: you watch Gale perusing the book with a true wizard's fascination. A few pages in, something startles him.  Gale: A rough read indeed... I'll give it my undivided attention at a more appropriate time.

14. on ethel

Gale: You know, I think there's a little something more to Ethel than meets the eye. 'Hag' is the word they used.  If that's what she really is, she's beyond dangerous.  - Protag Option 1: If that's what she is, that means we killed two innocent men. Gale: But theit sister still lives. And I doubt Auntie has her over for tea and conversation. - Protag Option 2: Hags are powerful creatures. She might actually be able to help us with the parasite.  Gale: See Option 3 - Protag Option 3: She hinted at a reward. That's all I really care about. Gale: Beware of a hag bearing gifts. They're never gifts to begin with.

15. on ethel's deal

Gale: Netherese. A portentous word. Combine it with mind flayers, and it's... unspeakable. - Protag Option 1: What do you make of it all? Gale: What we can do is combine what we know and make our deductions. At the heart of it all, the problem is clear: we've been infected by a mind flayer parasite. So far, however, we've been spared the dread fate that is ceremorphosis. How have we been spared? It would seem the answer is that the parasite is somehow infused with Netherese magic – more powerful, more sinister than it has any right to be. The question remains, however: why? Infected, but unchanging. Blind cogs in an all-seeing machine. - Protag Option 2: If even a hag can't help us, who can? Gale: I... I actually don't know. All we can do is combine what we know and make our deductions- See Option 1 - Protag Option 3: It's all gibberish as far as I'm concerned. Gale: No, there's meaning to it. There has to be.  All we can do is combine- See Option 1 - Protag Option 4: None of this actually solves our problems. Gale: I know, but let's consider this: at the heart of it all, not only is our problem clear, but so is the motive of our enemy: power. All power has a nexus. Find it, and we may just find both the answers and the remedy we seek. - Protag Option 5: Get to the point if you have one. Gale: I was merely thinking out loud, but if you desire a point, consider this: See Option 4 - Protag Option 6: Enough talk. Let's go. Gale: Fine, but while we walk, consider this: See Option 4

16. after finishing mayrina's quest [link to gifset]

Gale: Hags really do redefine depravity, don't they? A promise kept in the cruellest of ways: a loved one returned, undead.  - Protag Option 1: This entire affair sickens me. I wish we'd had no part in it. Gale: We don't always choose the roles we play. All we can do is perform them to the best of our ability.  [Connor killed] At least the curtain's fallen on this tragedy. The lovers' tale is quite over.  [Connor alive] Can't say I'm very enthusiastic though, about the extra you just cast. - Protag Option 1: Hags thrive on corruption. It is simply their nature Gale: A nature that, as far as I'm concerned, deserves to go extinct.  [Connor killed] As extinct as the happiness Ethel cut out of Mayrina. [Connor alive] So does that abhorrent thing-once-man. For god's sake let his eternal sleep be free of this undead nightmare. - Protag Option 3: You have to admit Auntie Ethel knows how to have some fun. Gale: [disapproves] You can't possibly mean that.  [Connor killed] In any case, the man's dead for good. The spectacle has come to a close. Fun's over.  [Connor alive] Although, judging by the newest company you've decided to keep, you may just be depraved enough yourself to mean that after all.

17. the zhentarim chest / rugan

Gale: So you threatened your way into ownership of that chest. Now that it's yours, what will you do with it? - Protag Option 1: I say we hold on to it until we find the rightful owner. Gale: So that means you're not curious as to what's inside? Very well, suit yourself... - Protag Option 2: Let's seell it. We're bound to make a tidy profit.  Gale: See Option 1 - Protag Option 3: I will do what is meant to be done with a sealed chest: open it. Gale: Music to my curious ears!

18. the myconid colony in the underdark [link to gifset]

Gale: Spores that can raise the dead... These myconids certainly are fascinating creatures.  Protag Option 1: They make for good allies.  Gale: Agreed. And there are precious few of those in the Underdark. - Protag Option 2: They're more dangerous than I thought. We should be on our guard.  Gale: They will remain welcome hosts unless we turn hostile. Should be easy enough to avoid. - Protag Option 3: Sorry, but I don't share your fascination for fungi.  Gale: Nobody's perfect. 

19. defending astarion to gandrel the gur monster hunter [link to youtube video]

[Protag defends Astarion] Gale: How thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one's friend in the face of danger. Even if that friend is an egomaniacal vampire with moral longevity of a mayfly. - Protag Option 1: We did the right thing and that's all there is to it. Gale: It's charming that you think that. - Protag Option 2: Are you saying that you would have thrown Astarion to the wolves? Gale: Never. What harm did the wolves ever do? - Protag Option 3: I'll remember you skepticism if anyone ever comes looking for you. Gale: ?

20. handing astarion over to gandrel the gur monster hunter

[Protag hands Astarion over to Gandrel the Gur Monster Hunter] Gale: I had a friend who had a dog once. Beautiful animal, but it got mean in its old days. Gale: It would growl and bark at everyone. Even bit him at the end. Gale: Yet still it was the saddest of occasions when he took the dog away for good. - Protag Option 1: It was for the best, I'm sure. Gale: I'm not sure the dog would agree. Gale: Astarion wouldn't. I'm absolutely sure of that. - Protag Option 2: Parting is never easy. Gale: ? - Protag Option 3: Put the mongrel down, did he? Gale: ?

21. arka the tiefling (kanon's sister) kills sazza the goblin / protag stood by and watched it happen [link to gifset]

Gale: Arka's thirst for revenge has been sated... and the goblin welcomed death with open arms. All's well with the world one might argue. And yet there's something unsettling about witnessing an execution. - Protag Option 1: I take no pleasure in it, but justice has been done. Gale: No one will mourn this goblin I suppose. Let's leave it at that. - Protag Option 2: Somehow that sounds a condemnation. Gale: I condemn nothing - but a question can be a mirror: Gale: If it's guilt you see reflected, the condemnation is your own. - Protag Option 3: I have no patience for the squeamish. Gale: You imply a weakness. I say a critical mind is one of our greatest strengths.

22. letting sazza the goblin escape

Gale: I know I said it's not inconceivable a goblin priestess could help us. And yet... was it really wise to set another goblin free so she can arrange introductions? - Protag Option 1: Passing up the promise of a healer would be far more unwise. Gale: A perfectly reasonable train of thoughts. But what if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? - Protag Option 2: What's done is done. Doubt doesn't help us.  Gale: I'm not quite done yet. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? - Protag Option 3: Keep your misgivings to yourself. Gale: But consider the consequences. What if she leads her entire tribe to the grove? -> Protag Option 1: I'll make sure that doesn't happen Gale: I'm not sure you can. - Protag Option 2: Getting rid of the tadpole comes first. Otherwise we might be the monsters that destroy this place. Gale: Harsh. But fair. If not given too much further thought. - Protag Option 3: I don't care, I owe this grove no allegiance. Gale: No allegiance, no. Though we don't need to sign its death warrant.

23. finding out about priestess gut from sazza

Gale: Booyahg – the goblin word for magic. Primitive to a fault, but not entirely without merit. To seek some goblin priestess' help would be unconventional to say the least. Then again, I'm not one to advocate conventionality.  - Protag Option 2: A goblin healer sounds absurd to me. Gale: I wouldn't dismiss the idea out of hand. Goblins come from a warrior culture: to heal wounds is a highly prized skill. - Protag Option 1: I don't care if a cure comes from a goblin, an ogre, or an orc: as long as it works, I'm happy.  Gale: My sentiments exactly.  - Gale: If this priestess is indeed a master in the arts of booyahg, it's not inconceivable she could be of help to us. And if she isn't, we might find items of interest among her shamanic paraphernalia. If her tribe doesn't kill us on sight, that is.

thank you for reading! please consider liking and reblogging this post to support my work. thank you.

coming up next:

-part 1: the three tadpole dreams -> completed -part 2: major cut scenes: the deer stew scene & the loss scene -> completed -part 3: minor cut scenes: abandoned temple of jergal, failed to save arabella, talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach, edowin and the tadpole reveal, mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it, handing astarion over to the gur or defending him, reaching the druid grove, killing lae'zel, reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin, killing the druids, priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute, dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer, ogre couple, necromancy of thay, ethel, zhentarim chest, myconid colony -> completed with this post -part 4: gale's condition & the way it was treated in early access

taglist: @chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper, @galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer, @xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream, @toboldlydammitjim, @mishtress, @vcxahlia, @fitzmagus,

i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, or added, please let me know!

[jessiemeows]

Underdark Trysts

A/N: Hello! Although I am holding off on my long fic. I decided I want to write more little drabbles that I believe I'll eventually add to my long fic. I want to let everyone know I never really written anything with smut so this is my first time lol. I hope it's at least decent enough. I made this in Astarion's POV because throughout my upcoming fic I want it to be divided from Eris' prespective and Astarion's :)

R: E for explicit!!

Content Warning: fingering, PIV, cum inside without protection, hints of him maybe becoming overly jealous?? a little too dominant at one point

Word Count: 1300

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F! Dark Urge Tiefling, My OC Eris, Selunite Cleric/Paladin

Summary: After completing the Soverign Spaw's quest to rid the rot of duergar that killed his young, Eris and Astarion are looting a small hut together. Astarion gets turned on and wants to have a quickie. His simple plan fell apart weeks ago (even before the tiefling party) but he's refusing to realize it and keeps blaming his tadpole for any feelings he gets.

Eris scrunched up her face, nose twitching in distaste. "Ugh, do these duergar eat anything but mushrooms?" She rummaged through wicker baskets and rotted crates, her eyes scanning for anything of use. Astarion stood with his arms crossed, his lean frame leaning casually against the rough-hewn wooden planks, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her and her furry friend, Scratch search the hut. A short respite after he and his companions had just finished defeating a group of Absolute-worshiping duergar who had slain the young myconid followers of Sovereign Spaw, and were forced to kill the rogue myconid Sovereign Glut, who had sought to overthrow Spaw. 

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know, darling, we are in the Underdark. I'm pretty sure that's all they eat."

Eris spun around, a pouty look on her face. "Well, it's gross. I don't think I've ever liked mushrooms and that's saying something since I don't remember much. One of these days I hope we can find a nice dessert. Maybe a chocolate fudge cake!"

Astarion's smile grew. "Hmmm, I'm not sure that will happen, my sweet but maybe." He couldn't help but find her pout adorable.

Eris turned back to face a couple of shelves, but they were just out of her reach. "A little help?" she pleaded, looking back at Astarion. He snorted and sauntered over, pulling down the book and holding it just out of her reach. "Go on, take it."

Eris glared at him. "Astarion, I swear by the moonmaiden’s grace I will smite you if you don't give it to me." He laughed and relented, handing her the book. "thank you" she muttered, rolling her eyes and stashing the book in her bag of holding. Scratch followed her as she moved to the next area of the small hut.

Astarion's breath caught as he drank in the sight of her. The warm glow of the mushrooms illuminated her freckled now blood-stained skin and fiery red eyes. Her blood soaked low-cut armor and form-fitting corset accentuated the swell of her breasts, just staring at her he could feel his trousers begin to tighten as his arousal grew... He needed her. Now. Straining to listen, he heard the others down by the Ebonlake. Lae'zel and Shadowheart were arguing about the artifact yet again, while Karlach, Wyll, and Gale discussed what they suspected lay across the lake - likely more Absolute cultists. This was wonderful because no one was paying any attention to the two of them.

He turned to her, trying to sound casual. "Darling, turn around I found something." Eris spun around, curiosity in her eyes. And then his lips were on hers, needy and demanding. Without hesitation, he let his hands wander down her waist and firmly grasped her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could tell she was startled, but she leaned into the kiss, letting out a little giggle at his eagerness. 

"Astarion," she warned, but he deepened the kiss. "They are all busy, no one will know," he muttered against her lips. He trailed kisses down her neck, feeling the slight bumps of the bite scars he had left the previous night during their nightly trysts, when he drank her blood. Gods, she was so sweet, allowing him to drink from her each night. He was fortunate she was a cleric, and that he gifted her the amulet of Silvanus back at the grove or she would have been left exhausted every day. A soft moan escaped her as he kissed her collarbone, his hands squeezing her breasts.

"Shhh, pet, as much as I adore your sweet moans, those sounds are meant for my ears alone. But, do you want more?" he whispered against her skin. She nodded and he pulled back, looking at her. "hmmm what was that? I'll need words, little love."

Astarion smiled as Eris whispered, "Yes, please, Starry, I want more." He pressed his lips against her skin, then murmured, "Good girl."

Astarion swiftly scooped up Eris and placed her on a somewhat stable, broken desk. He shooed away Scratch without delay. With deft fingers, Astarion quickly unlaced and pulled down Eris' trousers and pink laced underwear. Eris was already so wet, but Astarion wanted her to beg just a little more. His icy fingers found their way into her folds, pumping slowly inside her, moving rhythmically. As he kissed her neck he quickened his pace. Hearing her quiet whimpers, he paused the kisses to see Eris concentrating on not being too loud.

Astarion placed his free hand over Eris' mouth. "Moan for me, my little moon. I'll make sure no one hears you," he whispered smugly. He savored watching the writhing tiefling submit to his dominance, reveling in her willing surrender. Only he was allowed to do this, no one else- not Gale, not Wyll, not Lae'zel, no other tiefling that had hit on her back at the grove, only him. His simple plan was succeeding tremendously.

"A-Astarion," Eris mumbled through his fingers. 

"Yes, love?" Astarion cooed. "I need you to use your words. You know how dearly I adore your sweet voice."

Eris struggled to force out the words, "P-please.". 

"Love, I don't know what you want," Astarion teased. Eris pleaded, "I want you, Starry. Please, I need you."

He wasted no time unlacing his own trousers and pulling Eris close. With a covetous murmur, "Only because you asked so sweetly," he plunged his hard, aching cock into her folds. Eris squealed, but Astarion quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound. He began thrusting slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length, before gradually picking up the pace, pounding into her harder. Eris' tail curled around his leg as her long nails gripped the collar of his jacket.

Astarion could feel Eris's body tightening around him as they neared climax. Her fingers were now wrapped his curls. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered breathlessly. His thrusts grew sloppy and ragged as he reached his release inside her.

Both breathing heavily he rested his head against her shoulder, still inside her. She played with his curls, then gave him a small but sweet kiss on his forehead, just as she had done back at the tiefling party. That simple gesture grounded him, keeping his mind from wandering as it had then. He didn't want to wander; he wanted to savor this time with her, for he truly enjoyed it. Cazador wouldn't whisk away this sweet, lost, murderous fool of a selunite. They were both safe. 

Astarions ears perked up when he heard soft foot steps moving closer to them, giving Eris a nervous look the two quickly jumped apart, hurriedly pulling their pants back up and trying to look nonchalant. Shadowheart entered the doorway, saying, "Hey, are you guys almost done looking around in here? The rest of us are ready to head back to camp. I don't know about you, but I need a bath after that Mushroom got his guts all over me."

"Haha! Yes, we're done. Just give me a minute to organize my bag, and we'll be out," Eris replied quickly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Astarion chuckled to himself, amused by her discomfort.

"Okay, I'll be out here with Gale. The other three have already started making their way back," Shadowheart said, her confused expression clearly indicating she didn't want to know what had just happened. With that, she left the doorframe.

Astarion looked at Eris smugly, teasing, "Look at you, you little minx of a Selunite, lying to your best friend. Maybe the Sharran and I are bad influences on you."

Eris lightly punched his arm. "I really don't think she wants to know what just happened," she teased back.

"Probably not. Alright, let's go, before you make me want to go for another round," Astarion said, his voice low and seductive.

Eris walked through the doors ahead of him, and Astarion paused for a moment, his stomach filled with butterflies. He quickly shook off the feeling and followed Eris, muttering, "Stupid tadpole is playing tricks again."

[sodapopseagull]

Played more honor mode again last night and have added two more downs and one death to the count for a total of 5 and 2! It's been chaos and I did cry a little because I am overly attached to the pixel people and I think my friend might be rabid?? It would explain some things...

Lae'zel is no more. We sided with the tieflings that captured her. It was sad 😔

Astarion, when faced with the choice between the HUGE SCARY DRAGONBORN and my dumb idiot 8 STR human tav, chose to try and bite my friend. I tried to save him, to remind her of his purpose as Boooal's sacrifice to buy him just a bit more time, but she would not hear me 😭😭😭

Karlach is now on the chopping block in his stead. She dances so innocently at camp...

I pleaded for Wyll's life because, entirely on his own at the fight in front of the Grove, he used his scroll to resurrect my friend!!! A life for a life!!! And it was all well and good, but alas, he showed up at our camp after we recruited Karlach and he fell because my friend doesn't want anyone at camp FOR SOME REASON. I tried to convince her that Wyll deserves to make it to the end of the game for his selfless act, but alas... she would not hear me. I did actually shed a tear or two LMAO. It was very late and I love Wyll, he didn't deserve that.

Gale's fate is on thin ice, but as of right now he is tentatively safe. He had two snacks yesterday. Never have I been so fearful as when my friend kept asking "what did you feed him?" over and over again while channeling a Divine Smite right over his head...

This woman has not ONCE cared about The Watcher's Guide in our hundreds of hours of playing together, but apparently I shouldn't have let Gale eat it LMAO

I had done some negotiating to keep him around earlier in the day. Made a sacrifice I have never made before, but it has appeased her...

I will say that all of this is all done in good fun. My friend knows how attached I am to Gale and the rest of the companions (and she loves them too, make no mistake) and we manufacture a great deal of drama around it LMAO. And in her defense!!! she has lost hours of her life to me romancing this man in our countless co-ops and my BG3/Gale fixation pulled me away from our shared 3D/VR hobby... Like, is it hilarious that she has beef with a fictional wizard from a game she bought me? Yes. Does she also have a point?

Perhaps.

I don't want to give the impression that she's a bad friend or co-op partner- I love this person with my whole heart and we know where our lines are even in something silly and fictional like a video game! And I want to clarify that because she will probably insist on more unhinged nonsense as we keep going, and I like yapping about our playthroughs LOL

We're having so much fun on this run and, as of right now, are kinda cruising through the early combats! We're taking advantage of a lot of mechanics we've never really bothered with like dipping weapons, using Shovel to surprise enemies, actually using our scrolls, and properly teaming up to loot everything. The level 4 power spike is going to be so good for us, and at level 5 I will have Font of Inspiration and my friend will be ready to reclass to her Open Hand Monk hehehe

Last night she suggested that we relive the early days of our ownership of this game and do a marathon session today. I hope she was being serious, but if that's the case, I gotta haul ass on some fic edits before she wakes up LOL

[thewisecheerio]

Crow Behavior in BG3

One of the delights of BG3 is all of the random items we can collect for no other reason than that it makes us happy; it allows us to indulge in crow behavior, collecting every little knick-knack for our nest. So here are the things I've collected just because I imagine it makes the various companions happy.

Karlach: The plushie collection is currently at 22 teddy bears and 2 owl bear stuffies, and growing. Clive, her original teddy bear, deserves some friends and we're here to find them for her. Additionally, every firework we can find in the game belongs to her, because she deserves to set things on fire and launch them at people. Also, I think she would find the sparkly colors enchanting.

Karlach also has multiple types of beer on hand in her camp space, so any beer we find is saved for her so that she can enjoy herself at mealtimes. If there were a distillery with tasting in the game, we'd take her to visit it.

Artwork by @paranoodle: https://paranoodle.tumblr.com/post/729302166910779392

Astarion: Astarion tells us that he enjoys petty vanity, and yet he has one (1) set of clothes just like everyone else when he shows up. Reading the description of his default clothing lets us know that Cazador largely did not afford nice things--including basic changes of clothing--for the spawn, as his clothes have been repaired repeatedly rather than being replaced. And Astarion struggles with owning his own body and bodily autonomy, part of which is possibly entwined with feeling right in his own skin.

So the man deserves as many nice clothes as he wants now. We got delicately embroidered clothes, clothes of expensive silks, slutty clothes, modest clothes, silly clothes, serious clothes, every change of clothes we can possibly buy or steal to allow the man to engage in some vanity while he re-learns to love himself.

Gale: I have a collection of over 650 books, and it's all for him. He and Astarion (the other one reading all day at camp) surely have a book club, and Gale maintains the collection they choose from. Also, the extensive scroll collection that I refuse to sell regardless of the fact that 75% of them won't get used is for him, because he deserves as many magical tomes as we can get our hands on.

Gale has a crystal ball and telescope in his camp, suggesting that magical and scientific paraphernalia would interest him. So we loot every crystal ball, every scale, every hourglass, every conical flask and separatory funnel, and every slightly-dangerous-yet-intellectually-intriguing potion we can find so that the man can nerd out on a whim.

Finally, Gale has a little space for Tara in his camp consisting of a pillow, a bowl, and a ball; when we find toys and supplies for animals, we keep them around in case he wants them for Tara.

Artwork by Konbu: https://konbu.artstation.com/projects/39Dzmv

Lae'zel: Weapons and armor, in comical quantities. Lae'zel spends all day grinding weapons at camp, so she deserves some nice greatswords and axes to grind (hah hah). We've also sourced every variety of armor we can possibly find in the game, just to allow her to play with and admire the workmanship of different types of craft. As someone with a strong interest in warfare, it seems only fair to give her new toys in the form of a wide variety of finely-crafted armor. Nevermind that we won't use the majority of them; that's not the point. The point is to make the lizard lady happy.

Lae'zel's camp has a bunch of stuffed hunting trophies. So if we could loot the stuffed heads we find or make some out of our various enemy encounters, we would. She deserves a hunting trophy collection larger than Gaston's. Screenshot by @arrenkae: https://arrenkae.tumblr.com/post/724752445632282624/companions-and-their-tents

Wyll: The man deserves access to the finest of wines. He's normally sipping something at camp from a fine-looking goblet, and we're here to provide the finest of drinks. The drinking horns you can find are for him, just to spice things up so that he's not using the same goblet every time.

We also loot every type of food. Yes, we could buy boring camp supply sacks from various merchants, but then how is he supposed to make appropriate pairings with his wine? No, friends: we collect as large a collection of treats as possible so that he can make a charcuterie board of delights whenever he wants.

Wyll's camp includes a quill and ink set, which suggests he likes to write or draw. So those quill and ink sets we find all over Faerun are for him. (On that note, he's probably also the one making the occasional portrait of the vain elf, since Astarion can't see himself in mirrors and would probably love a picture of what he looks like instead.) It's likely that if the inking set is for writing, he's sharing the books in Gale's collection as inspiration for his own writing. He might even join the book club.

And finally, the Blade of Frontiers deserves a nice rapier collection. Maybe Lae'zel even helps him maintain them in top shape.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart tells us that she likes a particular flower, and you have the option of bringing one to her. So we keep some un-extracted flowers around, just for ambience for her. She also spends all day praying at camp, so we loot some clean towels when we find them so that she has something soft to kneel on in place of a prayer rug.

Shadowheart's camp includes a collection of incense and candles. Whenever we find nice incense supplies and tapers, we save them for her to relax and/or pray with.

Artwork by @astrariem: https://www.tumblr.com/astrariem/728597416023080960

Halsin: Halsin tells us that he likes to whittle, and especially whittling animals. Any time we find a finely carved or manufactured object, we loot it for him as inspiration. The toad teapots in Ethels' cottage? A gift for the artistic druid man. The finely carved idols? For him. The delicately crafted music boxes? For Halsin. The slightly-suspicious-yet-well-made Whispering Masks? Also for him.

Halsin's lab is filled with all sorts of strangely preserved curiosities. So whenever we loot bottled blooms and anomalous coral and various seashells, it's so that he can have a curiosity collection away from home. The large bottles we collect en masse are so that he has the option of bottling his own curiosities. His camp has a mortar and pestle, so we take different iterations of those, too, to help with his preservation endeavors. He deserves to have access to a regular one and a silver one and a gold one, just for variety's sake. Artwork by Jackomoria: https://www.reddit.com/r/BaldursGate3/comments/16arqzc/halsin_and_his_ducks/ or https://www.artstation.com/artwork/PXBAwn

Jaheira: All the jewelry is for her. When we enter her hideout in Act 3, we find a beautiful necklace left by her partner, which suggests that she enjoys jewelry (or someone who knew her well thinks she does). She's even wearing a big ol' necklace in her default outfit. So the rings and the necklaces in number too many to use are all for her. The other thing of note we find in her hideout is a collection of stunning scimitars, which are her chosen weapon. So among the weapon collection that Lae'zel maintains are an extensive number of scimitars, which otherwise belong exclusively to Jaheira. Jaheira's camp has a bunch of "parent-ware", by which I mean she has stuff for cooking and cleaning and generally taking care of others. She also has a thousand children. Given how exhausting it is taking care of others, I think she deserves some time to herself. We take her to the perfume shop in Rivington, and we loot fine soaps and linens for her to relax with. The jewelry is also part of allowing her to spoil herself a bit.

Minsc: Minsc's camp site is pretty barren; as a ranger, he's likely accustomed to a fairly Spartan existence on the road. Boo seems to be his only (regular) companion. So the animal companions in camp are for him and him alone. Boo needs some friends, and so does Minsc. Scratch and the owlbear cub probably sleep at the foot of his bed regularly; in Elfsong, the owlbear sets themself up directly across from Minsc and I refuse to believe that is on accident.

Minthara: I haven't recruited her, so feel free to make suggestions. ;) But from pictures of her camp tent alone, I would think some things she might miss from the Underdark would be welcome. A few varieties of mushrooms and crystalline formations to remind her of home probably wouldn't go amiss.

The Dark Urge: Skulls. We have a collection of over 75 emotional support skulls in a variety of shapes and sizes for this precious little Bhaal-babe.

[ineadhyn]

Fic master post

Cinnamon Sugar

Raphael x Haarlep, completed

When Raphael meets a punk in indecent clothing in the elevator of his office building he has no clue that this encounter will change his life. Haarlep who barely makes a living with Onlyfans gladly jumps on the opportunity to become this hot older man's sugar baby. The hierarchy should be clear and also that it's unthinkable to develop deeper feelings. They both know that - but playing by the rules was never Haarlep's strong suit.

Direct from Hell Logistics

Raphael x Haarlep, completed

Raphael managed to get himself killed by Tav and got sent to our world as a punishment where he is forced to work as a delivery man. His struggles with all things mortal (like toothbrushes) are amplified by Haarlep pretending to be his supervisor.

Its sequel: Direct to Heaven Logistics, ongoing

Copper hearts

Astarion x Tav (original character), completed

Retired bandit king Francys just wanted to spend a relaxed afternoon in Baldur's Gate with his daughter when the Mindflayers attacked. Alone and tadpoled he awakens on an unknown beach. Soon he meets a certain vampire spawn just as experienced in stealing and deceiving as himself.

Despite being unhappy about the other rogue's company, Astarion desperatly seeks protection. Francys however has long given up on caring for anyone but his daughter.

Tender like tears on a knife

Astarion x Cazador Szarr, ongoing, collab with @toon-topaz

Au: mortal Cazador, spawn Astarion

Reclusive noble Cazador Szarr buys himself an exotic pet: A vampire spawn sired by Vellioth the Martinet. Whilst Cazador tries to break his unruly pet in they inevitably get to know each other. Eventually Astarion finds out that his new Master also has shared history with Vellioth. The Martinet might be dead but his legacy lives on - and proves dangerous for the both of them.

Astarion's backstory:

Dust and Ash - Astarion's time in the tomb and the night he got freed

Thou shalt know that thou art mine - Cazador develops a deep obsession with Astarion and shows it in the worst way possible. Non-con, dead dove, cazstarion.

Circus of the dead - Dark circus au, non-con, cazstarion, dead dove, mind the tags

One shots:

His consort, his god - Ascended Astarion x soon to be god Gale

An Archduke's Bliss - Raphael, Haarlep, named dragonborn Durge threesome

Reading hour - Tav x Archduchess

A special gift - Haarlep has a surprise for Raphael

A song of snow and embers - sapphic foursome, Alfira x Karlach x Lae'zel x Shadowheart

Her body. Her choice - Haarlep x lesbian Tav

At her mercy - Karlach x fem Durge

Nature's most beloved treasure - Halsin x trans masc Tav

Comedy/Crackfic

Mizort(r)ash SFW - Villains complaining about loot goblin Tav

Mizo(r)trash NSFW - same as above, but Mizora and Gortash fuck

The tyrant, the bat and the wardrobe - Gortash and Cazador share a shoe closet

A day in the House of Hope - daily shedules of Korilla, Raphael and Haarlep

Addition: #a day in the life of a bg3 villain should take you to all the shedules I posted on tumblr

#graveside my baby boy - Shenanigans of my Astarion romancing bard Durge

[tealfling]

Thinking about my game on a 7 hour car ride.

A/N: Does anyone else notice in game you can just turn around and Astarion is nowhere to be found? (Probably stuck on a ledge)

Amaranth hates that.

Astarion x Named F!Tav Amaranth

Summary: While looking a bookshelf, tiefling cleric Amaranth notices a normally close member of her party is missing. This sends her into a panic attack as she tries to find him.

Part 1? Idk, part 2 would probably be just smut (which I’m willing to try if there’s interest), none here though. Allusions to all Cazador’s shit. Pg13 SFW. Wrote on my phone during a car ride, light proofreading

Tail end of Act 1~

Do Not Go Far From Me.

The dust made her nose itch. Amaranth pulled a sooty tome from the rotting shelf. The spine was in surprisingly good shape considering how long this particular establishment must have been abandoned. Its title had faded from the cover, but she thumbed through it. There were enough readers in camp that it could be interesting to someone. In fact, she was sure Gale was in the room ahead doing the very same. He and Lae'zel rounded out the day's team.

It wouldn't show very good leadership skills to continue to leave them at camp just because they'd hurt her feelings. Amaranth felt if not given the chance to use the sword she was constantly sharpening Lae'zel might turn it on the group at this point. And, admittedly, Gale's knowledge of the arcane was unmatched in their party.

Amaranth skimmed the pages. A pointed grin bloomed when she realized it was a rather raunchy read, not A Pleasurable Deal, by any measure, but certainly the sort of thing she and her favorite traveling companion have been secretly hiding in each other's things. Part of their game. "Ooh," she cooed, "looks like I found something else for you to sink your teeth into, Fangs," her tone intentionally flirtatious. When there was no response, Amaranth turned calling over her shoulder, "Astarion?" The small chamber was empty of the pale elf she sought. Huh. He was right behind her in the hall. Maybe he went ahead with Gale.

The purple tiefling went to the next room with a call, "Gale?" His immediate response relieved her in a way she wasn't expecting, at least they hadn't decided to leave her behind.

"Yes?" The brunette human man looked up from the book he was inspecting.

"Have you seen Astarion?"

"No, last I saw him he was with you." Gale answered, replacing the tome in hand and pulling another from the shelf.

"Same. Where's Lae'zel?" Amaranth looked around, noticing the grumpy gith was absent from the room.

Gale answered over his shoulder, "She went to through the door on the left, just there." He nodded in the direction of the far side of the chamber. His demeanor was calm and it helped Amaranth stay level. They were all adults. They didn't need hand holding. They were just exploring these rooms for supplies like her. She didn't need to mother hen them. They didn't need her to keep tabs on them. Astarion often became impatient of her looting. He preferred to pilfer treasure or items obviously worth their weight in gold. While Amaranth seemed cursed to touch everything. He was probably in the next room bitching with Lae'zel.

Except, he wasn't. Lae'zel was the only living thing standing in the dim chamber. She was lighting a brazier. The room had more of the same, broken or rotten wood furniture and crumbling stone. No elf. Amaranth's stomach churned.

"Hey, have you seen Astarion?" She was sure she asked calmly. Sure her voice didn't crack.

Lae'zel clicked her tongue annoyed, "I am not your pale shadow's keeper."

Amaranth's heart dropped in her stomach. Fuck. She'd fucked up. "Gale!" She called whipping around on her heel. When he met her at the door, she didn't give him a chance to speak. Her purple hands grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him in the gith's direction. The wizard opened and closed his mouth several times, settling on a worried look when he realized how panic began to manifest on their leader.

"Stay with Lae'zel." The fighter rolled her eyes and hissed, an objection or snide comment cut off when Amaranth snapped at her, "DO NOT let him out of your sight! Do you understand me?! That is an order!" The tiefling's opal eyes blackened and her fangs reared, they'd only seen her do this the few times she's threatened someone and her emotions got the better of her. It'd never been used on any of them before. Lae'zel smirked. Teethling.

"I'm going to double back and look for Astarion," Amaranth continued, forcefully taking slow deep breaths. She didn't mean to bark at them like that. A leader should be level-headed and calm. Why did they give her that damned title? She felt like she was going to vomit. "Please," she begged, "stay here. Stay together."

She whipped around, rushing through the previous room. Her mind raced. She only looked away for a second. He was right there. She should have paid more attention. He needed more of her attention. Sure Mizora had popped into camp once, but she hadn't threatened to take Wyll. Just days ago they had run into a Gur monster hunter, in the middle of a swamp of all places, looking for Astarion. Her pulse hammered in her ears. People were looking for him, hunting him. Her mouth ran dry, but she swallowed nervously. Cazador was going to take him the first chance he got. Amaranth felt so stupid. How could she be so careless? It was foolish to take her eyes off him for a moment. Every footfall, every heartbeat, every empty hall, every rapid glance where he wasn't, Amaranth's fear grew.

She was supposed to protect him. She said she would help him. She was beginning to think she could save him. How could she do anything if she lost him?

In the odd way she had come to serve the Raven Queen, Amaranth had never once felt the need to pray to her Matron. Not like a normal cleric. But in recent times Amaranth had experienced many firsts, and the sting in her eyes had a new one form on her heart. As the name of the Raven Matron bubbled her lips, Amaranth cornered a right straight into a wall.

A pliable, leathery wall.

Amaranth stumbled back, disoriented from the unexpected change in momentum. Quick arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her forward again. She grabbed at their base trying to steady herself from the constant change in direction. Her head was already dizzy from all the panicked adrenaline. When the room stopped spinning, Amaranth looked up into a pale face meeting red hooded eyes.

"Thank the fucking gods," Amaranth choked in a small breath. All of them if she needed to.

"Why, hello, my Sweet, looking for a--" Astarion didn't get to finish his line before purple fists slammed into his chest.

"No! None of the seductive bullshit! I was looking for YOU, you dumbass!" Again she brought her fists down on his chest piece in fury, much of the force was taken by the armor so it didn't bother Astarion. Not the way the angry, teary eyes scanning him did. "Where the fuck were you?! You were right behind me last I checked and then you were gone! No one knew where you were!! I thought a monster hunter or-*gasp*- or- *wheeze*- Cazador's minions had grabbed you!" She gripped his armour, trying to shake him, but there wasn't enough strength in it to move him.

Now Astarion was the one that was concerned, the little purple tiefling kept trying to swallow air she wasn't getting, making a sickening wheezing noise instead. Her bright diamond eyes unfocused and wild. A panic attack. Something he was all too familiar with. Her pulse rapid and unnatural in his ear, her delicious scent tainted with fear, her expressive tail limp on the ground.

Thinking quickly, Astarion cupped her cheeks, massaging them with his thumbs, as he shushed her. "Darling, I need you to take deep breaths for me, okay? I'm sorry. Listen to me, I need you to breathe," he mummered. He took several breaths of his own, but she didn't slow hers. "My dear, look at me, what color are my eyes?" The tiefling continued to gasp, "My Love, you're ok. You're all right. I'm all right." Astarion was trying his best to calm her, but he could feel her hands trembling on his arms even through the bracers. "Try to breathe with me, please Amaranth," he implored, touching his forehead to hers. Her breath hitched and she finally focused on him, slowly catching his rhythm.

When it seemed like her breathing and her pulse were manageable, Astarion gently tucked a strand of Amaranth's pearly hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Are you ok now?" He asked pulling her into his arms when she nodded that she was. "Good," he said resting his cheek on her forehead.

What the hells just happened? He had gotten distracted looking at something, he couldn't even remember what it was. Certainly nothing worth, well, causing this. Amaranth was known for becoming engrossed in looting herself, sometimes wandering away, and though it often gave Astarion a nervous pit in his stomach, it'd never been this bad for either of them. She'd mentioned the Gur and Cazador. That conversation happened a couple of days ago now. Like most things, Amaranth seemed to take it all in her righteous stride. Barely noting that Astarion's baggage would add extra people after their tail, but promising to deal with it if it came up all the same. He didn’t think it bothered her this much. That she cared this much. He didn’t want her to feel this way. Astarion stroked her hair guiltily, this was not part of his plan.

Amaranth pulled back her head, giving herself room to palm the tears from her eyes and cheeks. "Sorry," she sniffed. "You scared the life out of me! You dork!" She grumbled, smacking him on the chest again this time more playfully. Astarion made a big show of wincing, even though she knew she didn't hit hard enough to hurt. They chuckled. "I found another raunchy book for you," she explained, suddenly looking around for a book she was no longer holding, "guess I dropped it."

Astarion purred, "Pity, I do so enjoy our secret book club." If she was feeling better, he wanted to get her laughing and joking again. He still had his arms around her waist, where she was trapped and couldn't flee, making it easy to lean in for the tease.

"Yeah, well, when I went to hand it to you, you weren't there!" Amaranth huffed leaning back, then she pinched her brow. "Instead, I found myself alone with Gale and Lae'zel,” she pouted.

Astarion mocked apologetically, "A truly detestable fate, my Dear, and one I am sincerely sorry for inflicting on you." He gave her a roguish grin before nuzzling his nose into the side of her jaw and peppering kisses down her neck. His trail followed his favorite vein, stealthily monitoring her steadying pulse. "Tell me, my pet, how would you like me to make it up to you?" He punctuated each word with a kiss and his tongue intentionally grazed her throat when it could, pursuing a reaction.

"Well, going forward," Amaranth stated evenly as Astarion worked his lips along her neck down to the dip of her clavicle in search of his desired response. Bracing herself on his biceps, but offering more of what little flesh she had exposed from armor she continued calmly, "if you're going to disappear, you could do me the honor of taking me with you. That way if anything does happen we can at least die together. Better to be dead with you than left alone with the other two."

Her statement was matter of fact and untheatrical, but ripped Astarion from his endeavor immediately to catch her gaze. When she turned her chin to face him, Amaranth wore her normal gentle smile.

There was a long, pregnant pause hung in the air. It grew heavy. Something building between them. Ready to birth. After Astarion didn't move for several seconds, Amaranth thought that she might have broken him with the way his face was frozen. It wasn't an expression she'd seen on him before and after a while the intense way he bore into her made her uneasy.

She chuckled nervously surveying his face, "What? What is it? Astarion?" Amaranth crinkled her nose and silver brows confused. His face softened and his red eyes flitted from her eyes to her lips. That strange weight of the moment deepened as she felt her lids lower, her own eyes set to mimic his. She felt the pull when she regarded his mouth and realized it was drawing closer to her own.

He brought one hand up to cup her face, almost smiling when he felt her tail hesitantly curl around his leg. The last time Astarion had her in his bedroll was the first time he felt her tail that way. Admittedly, at the time, it surprised him as he hadn't anticipated a slithering sensation around his leg. But right now, it felt like it could tether him to her. An anchor him to her safety. Her warmth. Whatever this building between them was. Inviting him. He slowly slid his fingers through her hair, losing himself in her eyes, being lulled by the steady increase of her pulse as her anticipation grew.

Amaranth slowly brought her hands to his face, delicately fluttering her fingers along Astarion's defined jaw, preparing to pull him closer. To close the gap.

"Have you found him?" Gale's earnest call from around the corridor corner startled Amaranth completely making her jump back. When she whirled around, Gale was just rounding the cobbled corner. “Hello?”Lae'zel's armour could also be faintly heard echoing off the stone--now that Amaranth wasn’t listening to her own heartbeat ring in her ears. "Ah, there you are," Gale said cooly. "Sorry to defy orders, but we figured more eyes would better the search. Seems like you found him easy enough. See? No need to worry yourself."

Amaranth exhaled heavily, putting a hand to her chest. "Mystra help you, Gale, you almost gave me a heart attack!" The tiefling bit, straightening herself.

"Ah, sorry about that. Well, seeing as you don't currently appear to be experiencing cardiac arrest, I'll say that's no harm done." Lae'zel clicked her tongue when she appeared behind the wizard. Gale peered around Amaranth, "What about our vanished vampire friend?" The human's chipper tone dropped when two very vexed crimson eyes shimmered over her shoulder.

Astarion hissed, “Oh, I’m fine, Gale. Just peachy. I didn’t realize you’d miss me enough to come looking for me yourself. I must say, I’m touched.” The elf placed a hand to his chest, but his tone didn’t match his words.

“g'lyck.” Lae’zel sneered, “Now that Astarion is found, I see no reason to waste time any longer. If this place does not contain the answers we seek, let us return to camp.”

For once, Amaranth was thankful of Lae’zel’s short fuse. “Alright, Lae’zel, lead the way,” she nodded, “I don’t think my heart could handle anymore jumpe scares.”

[baldurs-gape]

Silently begging you to continue “the price paid”, your work is incredible!

Your kindness has me flustered and blushing, Nonnie. So it took me a little while to scrape together the goo that had become of my last brain cell. I'm more than happy to write a little more of The Price Paid for you. Not going to lie, it thrills me to be able to share more of the story with a willing and eager recipient.

Ownership of Pain

Just because Astarion was more visibly alert didn't mean things were magically back to how they used to be. On the surface he seemed to be settling back into the usual groove of the party. Maybe his flirting was a little more extreme, far too willing to try and seduce any willing member for a night. Except nobody was accepting his offer. Not even Halsin or Gale, both of whom had been so willing to promise their shared affections as long as Astarion came back to them. Because Astarion remembered those long days and nights where he was locked in his own body, unable to break free of the comfort of nothingness. It was the closest he could get to ceasing to exist even if it didn't make the past magically disappear.

If Astarion couldn't prove his worth with his body, he resorted to other skills. Tagging along with a group heading out, he made sure camp was always brimming with pilfered supplies. Not only was Gale able to cook veritable feasts, tents were suddenly more comfortable with extra bed rolls, stuffed toys and even art. While Astarion didn't claim responsibility for it all, he didn't make a secret of it, sighing in relief whenever he could dump a load of stolen wares somewhere in camp. The others could sort through it, he was only good for the acquisition, not for putting any of it to actual use. Though he did keep a pair of simple gloves for himself, ensuring the ring which kept him free was hidden from view and as secure on him as possible.

Things maybe were returning to a new equilibrium. One that wasn't as good as before, Astarion had a knack for serving in an unsettling way. If his presence wasn't requested, he near enough disappeared into his tent. At first the others left him to it, hoping he just needed to bit of time to himself. Alas, it seemed to be nothing more than wishful thinking. Especially when Lae'zel caught a whiff of garlic emanating from his tent one quiet evening.

"Your spawn may have looted the wrong thing," she told Halsin, not unkindly.

Approaching the tent with Gale, Halsin wished Lae'zel had been right. If only it had been the case of some fumble, uncharacteristic as it was of Astarion. Instead, Halsin stepped into the tent and almost turned to leave without a word but Gale was at his back and far more vocal about their discovery.

"Just what in the astral blazes are you doing?!"

Crouched on the ground, wearing his gloves, Astarion had crushed a whole head of garlic and scooped it into a pouch. His actions would have been considered odd but could have been ignored if not for the fact that all around his lips and nose was blistered and bleeding exactly in the shape of the pouch's neck. Halsin could feel his heart squeezing, on the verge of shattering as he struggled to keep calm.

"Astarion? What's the meaning of all this?"

The more he looked, the worse the picture in his mind became. There was a healing potion set aside that was only half full. A rag next to it, its corner dried and tinged with potion and old blood. Taking it all in meant Gale slipped past him and was taking the garlic filled pouch from Astarion's lax fingers. In fact, Astarion looked on the verge of getting lost in his head again. It pushed Halsin into action too.

"It's okay. We're not angry, you're not in trouble. We just want to understand."

"Here." A stronger potion of healing was pulled from Gale's robes and thrust at Astarion. His hesitation wasn't a good sign but Gale chose to ignore it in favour or wagging the bottle to encourage it. Even so, Astarion's motions were hollow and obedient without any sign of thought beyond doing as told. The first few swallows were obviouly agony but he didn't say anything.

Once the bottle was empty, Gale took it from lax fingers and asked, "Why would you do such a thing?"

"It stopped the screams." Voice devoid of emotion, Astarion didn't meet their eyes. Obviously there was more to it but now wasn't the time to push it.

"What screams?"

Silence stretched longer before Astarion complied and answered. "When I trance." Face crumpling a little, he battled tears. "I mustn't disturb anyone's sleep. Can't give them reason to leave me behind."

Gathering him up between them, there were murmurs of reassurance that almost definitely fell on deaf ears. But it was all they could do.

"Please let me be useful," Astarion begged quietly. "I can be good."

"You are good, so good." Nose buried in his hair, Halsin pressed a kiss to the top of his head and tried not to think of how the garlic must have burned Astarion's throat and lungs until it was too painful to scream. "You're loved, okay?"

Of course his words fell on deaf ears. So it didn't take much to try and make actions speak louder than words. Next time a party was heading out, Astarion was with them. A small fight was expected and Halsin deeply hoped it would help restore some of his confidence. Once more he was wrong.

As soon as the fight commenced, Astarion froze, weapon slipping from between his fingers. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't a huge issue, the others more than capable of picking up the slack. It wasn't a long fight but Astarion had no part in it other than standing at the very edge, eyes near enough glazed over.

Once the fight had concluded, Astarion didn't snap back into the present. In fact, he cowered as Shadowheart approached him to hand his dropped bow back.

"You okay there, soldier?" Karlach asked with as much softness as she could muster, standing next to Shadowheart.

"Don't send me back. Please don't." Whatever it was Astarion was begging for, it made no sense to them. "Don't leave me behind."

The way he swayed, like his knees were on the verge of giving out, on the brink of sending him crashing into the dirt so he could plead properly made the others unesay. Gale stepped forward and tenderly wrapped an arm around him, helping him stay upright.

"We're not sending you anywhere or leaving you behind. Come on home, back to camp we go."

Upon their return, Halsin was there, helping guide Astarion to the fireside. They didn't dare leave him alone in his tent anymore, not when they could avoid it. The smell of garlic and sight of blistered skin still haunted them.

After the incident it became an unspoken agreement. Astarion no longer joined ventures where fighting was expected. As exceptional as he was with a dagger, all skill was lost in the face of freezing at the sound of blades clashing. Gale and Halsin also stopped going out together on missions unless Astarion was with them. One of them was always in his orbit, ready to protect him at the drop of a hat.

Perhaps the worst was the way Astarion didn't seem to mind. He used to whinge and complain incessantly about being bored and being left behind. Now, he took his fate like a defeated dog, resigned and accepting as long as he was thrown scraps. Though what he was given was more than scraps, Halsin knew that it would be a long while before Astarion would take it at face value. For now, they simply had to give what they could and hope that Astarion would learn to eventually trust them again.

[vagabondfandoms]

Falls on Me

Day Two: Afternoon

Rating: Teen (For this Chapter)

Previous Chapters:

Day One: Night 2. Day Two: Morning

Characters: Gale Dekarios, F!Tav: Copper, Karlach and Astarion appear at the end, and Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, and Shadowheart are mentioned.

Warnings: N/A, Gale POV, Mentions of chronic pain

Gale asks for the Sword of Justice and ends up with a debate.

---

The pings of pain that usually exist in his body at all times since he got cursed with the orb were increasing in intensity. 

“Soon.” Gale thinks, “He’ll need to absorb a magical item soon.”

At first, Gale was apprehensive about acquiring magical items for his condition. He couldn't predict what kind of people he was traveling with. Were they kind souls who would give up a rare magical item for an ailing wizard? Or ones that hoard their treasures like dragons in a deserted dwarf stronghold on top of a lonely mountain?

In general people on the Material Plane are very… well, materialistic. Gale couldn't really blame them. This world is harsh and you have to have some sort of gumption to get anything in it. Or be lucky enough to be born with it. 

Gale considers himself one of the lucky ones. His father was a well-off shipping mogul in Waterdeep. While Gale was an illegitimate child, his father didn't balk at his duties to take care of his blood at least financially. 

And to be fair, his father could have adored his youngest son but Gale just can't remember. His dad died when he was 10 years old and Gale only has hazy recollections of the man. Most of those memories involved his dad stopping over at his mother's house bearing gifts. Being a little kid he can only remember the joy of receiving the gift and not the reaction from the giver. 

Gale was hoping somebody in his new party was a giver and after spending a day with his new “friends” he had a pretty good guess on who. 

Copper, the Ilmateri monk was both physically strong and tactically minded but also a firm devotee to her god’s tenets of compassion, respect, and willingness to go without. 

While all of Gale's other companions (including himself) picked over the camping supplies to make their personal tents as cozy as possible. The monk just threw together a makeshift tarp held up with sticks and called it good.

Gale was 90% sure that Copper would be willing to go without a magical item in her sack if he asked. He just needs to find the right time between battling goblins, spiders, and people posing as Paladins of Tyr. 

---

They just finished dispatching a small band of goblins dragging a terrified owlbear cub to their outpost in an old temple of Selûne when Gale saw his chance to ask Copper for a magical item.

Everybody else was either busy examining the owlbear cub they just saved or looting the corpses for items when Gale casually made his way over to Copper who was rummaging through her pack.

“Tiring business, isn’t it?” Gale starts. “All this traveling and adventuring.”

Copper looks up at him in surprise, apparently not expecting anybody to talk to her. “Are you tired already?” She stands up, guzzling some water, looking over at him from around the bottle.

“Well, maybe a little,” Gale says half truthfully. “But I was hoping for the chance to talk to you about something, well, rather important.”

Copper’s eyes narrow by a fraction and if Gale wasn’t so invested in starting this conversation he might have missed it. His nerves start to flutter in his stomach. “What if she says no?”

“Consider this a break.” Copper shrugs and tosses Gale her water bottle. “Drink some water, it’s hot out here, and tell me what’s ailing you.”

“Ailing me, ha. If she only knew.” Gale thinks as he unexpectedly catches the glass container coming towards his chest. It was aimed in a way that it would be impossible to drop unless you didn’t even attempt to catch it. Gale muscles the cork out and takes a swig of the cool water. 

“She must have filled it at the stream earlier today.” He considers, the cold water feeling good in his parched throat.

Copper sits down on a fallen log, waiting for Gale to finish. He takes one last gulp, downing the rest of the liquid before tossing the empty bottle back to its owner.

“Soooo, we’ve been on the road together for a while now, haven’t we?” Gale says, trying to make his words sound cheerful. Not desperate or needy. “Survived some perils, overcame some obstacles.”

The monk just raises an eyebrow at him but stays quiet allowing him to speak.

“Anyway, ever since you were kind enough to pull me from that stone, I’ve seen you demonstrate remarkable guile and courage.” Gale continues, half speaking the truth and half buttering the woman up so he could get the magic item in her bag. 

“The way you diffused the tension between Zevlor and Aradin. The way you prevented not one but two murders in the Druid’s Grove…”

“Gale.” Copper cuts in. “Those are things any Ilmateri monk would do for others. I did nothing special.”

“Wellll, I don’t know about that.” Gale playfully argues. “Most of the Ilmateri I’ve met are, well, weepy.”

Copper gives him a chuckle and bows her head, conceding to his point. Even though she follows the Crying God, most of his followers take that epithet too seriously. 

“Back to my point, I’ve grown to trust you enough to tell you something I’ve yet to tell another living soul, except for my cat,” Gale says seriously. “I need your help.  I have this…condition that requires me to consume powerful magical items.” 

To Copper’s credit, she doesn’t even look surprised when Gale tells her this. She just calmly assesses the man. Looking him over for any injuries. “You hide it well.” Copper finally says. “It must be serious if you have to consume powerful artifacts.”

“Yes, it can be deadly serious if I don't acquire the items I need,” Gale says gravely. “That is why I am turning to you. I need your help to find magical items to consume. It is vital. Dare I say it, critical.”

“Where do we find these items?” Copper asks calmly.

“We’ve already done the finding. In fact, you have one in your possession already.” The man says lightheartedly. Pleased this conversation wasn't being rejected outright.

“Soooo… you want me to give you the Sword of Justice?” Copper says, connecting the dots to what Gale wants quickly.  But a scowl appears as a new thought enters her mind. “Karlach doesn't want to use it right now but Lae’zel might.”

“Please, I know that sword was difficult to acquire but it's imperative that I absorb the Weave in that item!” Gale argues, his nerves jumping wildly in his stomach. “It will do far more good turning into a rusted piece of metal after I am done with it than waiting in your pack for somebody to decide to use it.”

Copper looks conflicted. She must hear the desperation in Gale's voice. But to sacrifice such a powerful magical weapon for…what?

“This magical item isn't mine to give.” The monk shakes her head, a sad look on her face. “Can you tell me more about your condition? Maybe I can try and heal it instead of destroying the sword?” Copper tries to reason. 

There's hope in her eyes that she can fix the dilemma without disappointing anybody. But Gale feels disappointed all the same.

“This condition is not a kind to be healed by any old healing spell.” Gale chastises, annoyance and vulnerability mixing together. “Some of the greatest magical minds came together to find this treatment.”

“You mean you and your cat?” Copper deadpans.

“Well, mainly Tara.” Gale deflates, not wanting to go into detail about his year-long depressive state after Mystra’s rejection.

“You mentioned healing spells won't work. Have you thought of Ki restoration?” Copper supplies helpfully.

“What! Try some quack Eastern Medicine?” Gale laughs, shaking his head. “No, what I need is the Weave.”

Copper huffs, clearly annoyed. “Ki restoration has been around for thousands of years! Instead of using outside magic to heal an injury. Ki restoration uses life force, either your own or another’s, to help strengthen the body from within so it can restore itself to a healthier state.” 

The monk crosses her arms and looks directly at Gale. Almost challenging the man to refute her. “Ki is a highly regarded field of learning just like the Arcane Arts of the Weave.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t called it a quack medicine.” Gale quickly corrects himself seeing he got his companion worked up with his quick choice of words. “Waterdeep has one of the largest collections of knowledge in the Realms and the libraries do have a small section about Ki. So I have read up on this… energy before. It seems like an adequate way to trick oneself to relax or slightly enhance one’s abilities. But it’s still a lowly form of magic not even regulated by Mystra.”

“Ki is not the Weave. It doesn’t have to be governed by a god since it is an uncontrollable life energy that we can only harness a small fraction of.” Copper counters.

“Mystra...the Weave is everything. They make up ALL creation….”

“Ki is everything too!” Copper blurts out, uncustomed to sharing her thoughts with another person. “It's the life force in ALL living things.”

“Ki is regulated to the body,” Gale says calmly, overlooking the lack of decorum the monk is following for this discussion. Gale did throw out the first insult so he’ll let a little impatience slide. “Like I said, the Weave makes up everything. It’s the air we breathe, the ground we lay our feet on, the sun and stars. The fabric that makes up the entire universe!”

“Untrue.” Copper argues. “The Weave is one part of a whole that makes up the Universe. It's not everything. When the Weave was gone during the Spellplague, life was still created. People and animals were still born! Ki, the life force was still there. We didn’t just keel over and die without the Weave’s presence. How else do humans live when anti-magic fields are up?”

Gale feels tension forming in his jaw but it wasn’t from annoyance. He was getting excited even energized by this argument. He hasn’t had a good debate since he subbed at Black Staff Academy and had to argue with a teacher that they were teaching their class on Illusionary magic wrong. 

Looking down at the young monk, Gale realizes he needs to get down on her level so they can properly debate this. He was just about to kneel down to say his rebuttal when a couple of the party members came over to check on the two humans.

“Copper!!! Come see this little guy we rescued!” Karlach rushes over, full of excitement over the owlbear cub. Then she stops in her tracks, sensing the tension in the air. “Whatcha guys doing?”

“Urgh, they were just discussing something in-tel-lec-tual.” Astarion drags out the syllables in the last word like it is something rotten that needs to be thrown away. “So~ absolutely nothing exciting at all. Unlike this cool new dagger I found on that goblin corpse!!”

“Really, Astarion!” Gale says exasperated. “There’s nothing wrong about wanting to expand one’s mind beyond the material things of this world.”

The elf pops one hip to the side and examines his new treasure. “The only smarts I like are street smarts. At least they are useful to survival.”

“Come on now! I’ve seen you read in your tent at night.” Gale says, partially annoyed at Astarion's retort and partially because he couldn’t continue his conversation with Copper. He had so much he could say about the Weave and the Universe.

“Purely to pass away the hours of boredom,” Astarion says lazily, sliding his new dagger into his belt loop. 

Gale throws the elf a glare. He does not care for this blasé attitude Astarion always has around him.

“Well, I think break time is over.” Copper says as she gets up and brushes bark and moss off her butt. Karlach was already tugging at her sleeves, trying to lead the monk over to the owlbear cub, who was being watched over by Shadowheart, Wyll, and a reluctant Lae’zel.

Before she is fully swept off by the fiery tiefling, Copper catches Gale’s eye. “The sword is not solely mine to give. But don’t be afraid to ask the group if you really need it. They’re more willing to help than you think.”

Contemplating the monk's words, Gale watches his companions pack up their gear. They will be heading out soon to their new destination. Hopeful finding a way to cure the mind-flayer tadpoles in their heads. Gale can't help the small smile that forms on his lips as he watches the group happily give the scared owlbear cub food and affection. 

Maybe there are more givers in his group than he thought.

Author Note:

I like the fact in early access we had to give Gale a powerful magical item like the Sword of Justice for his condition. It gives his struggles more weight since the cost is so great. I'll try to sprinkle in more tidbits from early access as the story continues.

[y-rhywbeth2]

I think it would've been funny if instead of being a dragonborn by default, the Dark Urge was literally an actual white dragon.

For shenanigans.

[Disclaimer that this idea is ridiculous and I don't care.]

The bhaalspawn plot twist is largely obvious to players of BG1+2 and those who've already completed the game. Who'd see the twist that you've forgotten that you're dragon in disguise coming? If you play another origin they'd make a good excuse to add a brainstealer dragon boss battle. Alternatively, if you take the ceremorphosis ending, you play as one.

Plus white dragons instinctually lean towards being brutal, vengeful little bastards in a manner Bhaal would probably approve of and due to their slow development would be very easy to corrupt from a young age… but my motivation is still mostly for shenanigans.

Living most of their life in a city, I imagine they're used to being in humanoid form. They had a sibling rivalry with Abazigail, as the only other dragon they know ("White dragons are weaker and inferior to Blues." - "I'm sorry, I'm too stupid to remember something, can you remind me? Of the two of us, who's a dead failure who disappointed Father?").

They got shanked by Orin in humanoid form and just woke up with brain trauma and assumed they were whatever humanoid they appear to be. Sure they have some ancestral draconic memory and speak draconic, but that's just a sign of having a dragon ancestor. It's not that weird! It might also seem strange when they start growling at the Githyanki dragon steeds, but going by some dialogue Durge growls at people anyway so it won't even stand out that much. At least the "human flesh smells tasty" thing makes sense now?

Lacking any memories of past enemies to plot against, dragon Durge simply adds their new friends' enemies to their list of grudges.

Those of us who play by looting everything in sight and refusing to share it with the party members have a valid reason; dragon hoard. Yes I do need to break my back carrying all of the money, enchanted weapons and six thousand books I'll never read; no, we're not selling any of it, fuck off.

We get to act 3 and the party gets the Bhaalspawn reveal possibly followed up by "also I'm a dragon." ("what the Actual Fuck.") Gale has already formed a hypothesis about Durge's true species, but we should also get to play Sharks Are Smooth over it. You get the standard -30 disapproval from Gale, but if Astarion is there he'll also want to play and you get 30 approval from him and Gale's disapproval doubles to -60.

Lae'zel as our resident horse dragon girl would rather travel with a red, but perhaps a mere white dragon will do for a steed in the meantime. It's training for her future, you understand.

I want to pick up Mizora with teeth and shake her like a dog with a chewtoy when she invades my camp to torment Wyll and refuses to leave. Maybe throw her around like an orca with a seal…

Romanced Wyll, Shadowheart or Gale introducing them to their parent/s (+Tara, in Gale's case) would be fun to watch.

Duke Ravenguard has hopefully learnt his lesson about not jumping to conclusions and hearing Wyll out and showing some tolerance for what appears to be an evil alliance, but a chromatic dragon sired by the god of murder who's also a reformed serial killer might be putting some tension on that... Maybe leave some details out.

The Hallowleaves are remembering the tolerance their Selûnite faith espouses and that they too are a loving couple involving one person who is technically a monster but I feel like Arnell is still on some level internally going; whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck.

I think Ms Dekarios will be mostly unphased. She's a wizard herself and Gale's been bringing weird shit into her life since he was born. Her son came home with a dragon for a fiancé/e. Sure. Must be Tuesday.

[commander-diomika]

Prompted by @razzberrydazz- Lae'zel getting handsy whilst teaching Shadowheart to shoot. A quick cute one from me, about 1200 words, genfic no trigger warnings.

---

“As I said. You would have been far more effective from a distance when we came over the hill and spotted the gnolls.” Lae'zel shoved the bow in Shadowheart’s hands. It was of goblin make, one of the many looted off the corpses in the village.

“And you, vampire. We’re not skulking in the dark after all our enemies anymore. I understand you to be efficient in close quarters but I am not always going to be there to keep our foes from tearing your limb off.” Another bow abruptly thrust into pale hands. Astarion gave a small scoff and held the bow like it was coated in slime.

“Like it or not,” and from the squeeze of her narrow mouth, she was definitely in the “not” category, “we will be fighting as a team from now on. Effective combat is not just about how hard you can swing a crude hunk of metal.” Lae’zel eyed the mace slung at Shadowheart’s hip, and without thinking she fluttered her hand over it protectively. It had served her well so far, but it didn’t take genius acolyte to guess how Lae’zel felt about anything that couldn’t be sharpened to a lethal edge.

“It is simply wise strategy to have a secondary ranged weapon. Even better strategy would be to have you able to hit things with it.”

“What about the others?” Shadowheart asked, not liking the undercurrent of whine in her voice.

“Chk!” Lae'zel spat on the ground to underscore her scorn. “Mages, wizards and adepts need not the military training you do. And I have nothing to teach Karlach that her years in the hells haven’t already taught her. You two, however, are a different story.”

It had been a poor showing that day with the gnolls. A messy, scrappy fight that they’d been lucky to win, even though they’d spotted the creatures on the road well in advance. If it hadn’t been for Lae’zel, stunningly fast, divinely vicious, it may have been that none of them would need to worry about turning into mindflayers after all.

Horses couldn’t drag it out of her, but Lae’zel had been stunning to watch. An absolute maelstrom.

So when Lae’zel dragged Shadowheart and Astarion to a clearing near the camp, training dummies set and waiting, Shadowheart ignored the churn of shame and went.

“Fire upon the dummies. I am unable to train you if I do not first understand what you are capable of.”

Astarion twanged the string of the goblin bow, dubious.

“You first, istik.” Lae'zel jerked her chin at Shadowheart.

Shadowheart set her feet. There was a surge of pride, desire to prove herself to this arrogant gith, but the emotion immediately crashed upon the shore of knowledge. She’d never been a particularly gifted archer. The bow didn’t feel entirely unnatural to her, so she had to suppose she had been trained in the art to some extent, but it didn’t slot into her hands with the same unerring coherence that she felt with mace and shield.

She drew, and fired off the first arrow. It glanced off the side of the dummy, and her face burned. A second shot. This one hit, but the arrow drooped in the straw, having barely found purchase.

She glanced up at Lae’zel, braced for the scathing criticism, but she was merely watching the performance with an electric intensity, as though they were already in battle.

Shadowheart took a breath to steady herself, looking back to the dummy, feeling Lae’zel eyes boring through the back of her head. The shot went wide by at least a foot.

Lae’zel made another of those clicking sounds in her throat, and before Shadowheart could muster a mote of defence for her performance, there was a sinewy grip squeezing her waist. It was like the gith didn’t know how to approach touch with anything but force.

“Like this.” Lae'zel tugged her with implacable hands. “More side-on to your target. I know you are used to hiding behind your shield but think a little first.” The hands moved to her shoulders, and Shadowheart flinched at the feeling of those hands on her bare skin.

“Again.” The arrow landed more surely this time, penetrating at least an inch into the straw. She felt a silly little surge of pride. Since when do you care what this monster thinks of you, girl? A voice sounded inside her mind, the harsh cadence reminding her of Mother.

This time Lae'zel approached from the front, brusquely moving Shadowheart’s hands on the bow. She closed her fingers firmly over Shadowheart’s in the new position, and when those firm hands withdrew, Shadowheart felt hot all over. From shame? From- from being touched?

When last had she been touched? She couldn’t remember. Lae'zel withdrew and took position at Shadowheart’s back, standing so close that her breathing was loud in Shadowheart’s ears

“Again.” Shadowheart listened to that breathing. She closed her hands firmly on the bow, holding the feeling of Lae’zel hands over her own in the sense-memory of her body, and drew.

The arrow missed the target by at least two feet.

The noise that came out of Lae’zel could have punched a hole through Shadowheart’s gut. She crowded in again, yanking hands, twisting Shadowheart’s hips like a doll, then taking a knee and shoving her thighs slightly wider.

Where had all the wind in her lungs gone?

“This is even more disappointing than I was prepared for. You are supposed to be a warrior of some merit-” she stood as she spoke and glanced at Shadowheart’s face.

“What is wrong?” she asked sharply. “Are you unwell? There is a colour to your skin I have not seen before.”

Shadowheart fired off a quick prayer to Lady Shar to wrench the life out of her there and then.

Lae’zel didn’t wait for a reply, merely yanked the bow from her hands. “Go rest a moment.” Shadowheart obeyed. If Lady Shar wasn’t going to kill her, she could at least be out from under those hawk eyes.

“Elf. Take your turn and maybe this afternoon’s work will not have been a complete waste.”

Astarion made a show of stepping up, moving his hands uncertainly up and down the bow, almost fumbling as he nocked. Then, with a sly tightening of his shoulders, he turned to the target, and fired off three quick shots, thwap thwap thwap, neatly clustered on the dummy’s pockmarked face. He turned back to Lae’zel with a swagger.

Instead of the praise that he so clearly angled for, she sighed. “Why did you come out here if you were not in need of my instruction? Why not simply tell me you already knew how to shoot?”

“Oh, you know. I just wanted to see a little more of,” holding a spare arrow, he gestured, pointing first at Lae’zel and then to Shadowheart, where she had taken refuge on a rock, “whatever this is.” He finished with a smirk, drawing the arrow head in a circle encompassing the space between them.

Lae’zel merely frowned as he flourished. When he turned knowing eyes to Shadowheart, she stood up, too fast, and with a quick, “whatwasthatIthinkIheardTavcallingme,” she turned and fled the clearing.

[galedekarios]

talking with my friend @voliialpha reminded me of how much content was cut from gale going from early access to the full release version of the game:

the two biggest scenes that were cut:

-the deer stew scene -the loss scene (which included another way to start the romance with him)

shorter ! conversations:

-his reaction after the fight in the abandoned temple of jergal -his reaction after you failed to save arabella / stood by to watch it happen -his reaction after talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach -his reaction after edowin and the tadpole reveal -his reaction after mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it -his reaction after handing astarion over to the gur or defending him -his reaction to reaching the druid grove for the first time -his reaction to the player killing lae'zel after they feel the symptoms of ceremorphosis and comforting them -his reaction to reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin -his reaction to killing the druids -his reaction to priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute -his reaction after killing dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer -his reaction to the bugbear and the ogre couple -being able to give him the necromancy of thay book to read (not as an item to consume) -his various reaction after you dealt with ethel or made a deal with her -his reaction to the zhentarim chest -his reaction to the myconids after entering the myconid colony for the first time -his reaction to arabella dying

these were all conversations, marked with a !. some of the lines used in these conversation survived as ambient one liners ("the loot isn't for your pockets only." line for one).

i didn't realise it was this much. i was thinking about making a post with the actual transcripts of these conversation because it's just sad that they are all gone now. they gave a lot of insight into the character.

one of the few conversations that did survive are his reaction to nettie poisoning the protag, his story after saving mirkon, the story about the yawning portal after stepping in front of sazza, and his reaction to saving arabella from kagha.