#things I did not expect karlach to be into

[avernusfuries]

Minthara: bite me harder, don't be gentle Karlach, sinking her teeth hard enough into her inner thigh that she breaks skin and laps at it to say sorry

[crossdressingdeath]

Y'know, one of the odder things I see re Wyll is people claiming that him believing Mizora about Karlach being evil shows that he's too trusting or gullible or whatever. Not necessarily because he's not too trusting (see him immediately believing that all the Fists deserve to be pardoned for what they did during the game solely on the grounds that Ulder said so, despite everything we see of them in-game and despite Ulder openly admitting the god of justice himself wouldn't approve), but because... guys. Guys. We are told in no uncertain terms that the only reason Mizora could send Wyll after Karlach was that she is actually, literally heartless. I freely admit I'm not an expert on Forgotten Realms lore but I feel it is safe to assume that it's not exactly brimming with literally heartless people! I see a lot of people talking about the whole thing like Mizora used some deeply cunning loophole that she could have used in the past and could use in the future to trick Wyll into killing countless innocents, but like... no, I'm pretty sure it could only work on Karlach specifically. It would've been much more effective if Larian hadn't added the engine as a plot point and Karlach had remained just another victim of the events in Elturel (in which case Mizora would have had to use a loophole that she could use on others and it would have raised the question of how many innocent people Wyll had killed), and I suspect any dialogue suggesting any real likelihood of Wyll having killed innocent people on Mizora's orders in the past is left over from before the engine became a thing; in the final game it really is a complete non-issue, because how many literally heartless people can there actually be in Faerûn? We certainly never hear of any others in the game! It's just a little silly to act like Wyll proved himself to be overly trusting by not considering that Mizora might send him after an otherwise normal and decent mortal who literally did not have a heart. It's not about him trusting Mizora, it's about that not being something that any rational person would expect to happen.

[maegalkarven]

Family matters.

m!(trans)Dark Urge x Enver Gortash.

Brainworms finally got to me, I caved in and wrote a oneshot on the topic of "but what if Durge and Gortash had a child prior to all that mess"

Featuring my Dark Urge Levi, pre- and post- memory loss.

There was a living, breathing infant child in his arms; and for the first time in a long while Lord Enver Gortash was in complete loss at what to do.

“What is it?” fell rather flat down, a poor excuse of a question.

Leviathan rolled his eyes.

“A meaty flesh of some newly created life,” he huffed, visibly annoyed. “Also known as a child. I assume you’ve met their kind?”

Enver felt anger rise alongside with deeply rooted annoyance. Whatever spectacle the bhaalspawn decided to partake in, now was not the time for that. Neither it was the time for his witty itty remarks.

“I am well aware it’s a child,” he argued back just as sullenly, the said child held loosely in his arms. In his arms. Why was there a child in his arms? They were not made for holding babies.

“I’m asking why is it a child and why is it here. The questions any sane person in my place would indulge in.��

There was something...off about the bhaalspawn.

Not only Enver hadn’t seen the man for almost the entity of a year, an assassin always claiming some task of utmost importance, but now he decided to pop out of the thin air with a live child in a tow and immediately push said child into his, Enver Gortash’s, not so open arms.

It was alarming, to say the least.

“Oh, that,” Levi waved him off like it was a casual annoyance and not a conversation two adults, so-conspirers - partners - had. Like Gortash imposed himself into his free time and personal space and not the other way around. “It’s yours.”

It’s what?

“Or at least I assume it’s yours,” Leviathan followed as Enver’s thoughts came to a rapid halt. “Since I haven’t touched anyone alive but you in a long time. And look where it led me,” the look of pure disdain was all the child was getting, it seemed. “A freshly made meaty cage for a new soul. Disgusting. You’d think Father would make this shit stop and would not allow a child of banite to be born, but I guess any bhaalspawn is a good little pawn under his merciful gaze. Anyway,” a wild, excusing gesture of a hand. “I don’t have any use for this...thing. Sceleritas suggested to bring it into the fold and let my men do all the work, but well, the bother. So you can take it instead,” a winning smile what would work wonders if not for the whole absurdity of the situation Gortash just found himself in. “Think of it as of a gift. A proof of my loyalty to our cause, hm?”

Sometimes the bastard was more annoying than he was charming and his presence took a toll on the man.

Sometimes Enver wanted nothing more than to break Levi’s pretty slender neck.

That was one of these times.

“And what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Oh, whatever you want,” another wide, generous gesture. This asshole truly thought of that...child as if of a gift to be given away, didn’t he?

Enver shouldn’t have been surprised, not really, he knew Leviathan’s stance on children.

“Taste good, not much of use when alive, it’s funny when they die first” – was as good of a take as one could expect from the leader of the Cult of Murder.

“You can throw it away or feed it to the dogs. You can raise it or give it to a hag or even sell it to the devil,” another smile that’s more malicious than anything else. “I don't really care, if I'm being honest.”

Unfortunately, killing a bhaalspawn when you were holding just another bhaalspawn would prove to be close to impossible.

It would have to wait, and Leviathan Anchev still had his uses, bratty as he was.

And his appeal, as deadly as that ordeal proved to be. Or how complicated.

A child, huh? Well, Enver supposed every ruler needed an heir.

“Bring me the wizard,” was the first order out of his mouth when bhaalspawn left. The child was safely given into the care of the first competent older servant, who looked just as bewildered as Gortash himself felt. “Tell him to scan the...the-“

“The boy, my lord.”

“Right, tell the mage to scan the boy’s heritage. Let’s find who his parents are, shall we?”

Trusting a psycho murderer was an awful idea even at the safest of times, and now were not those. Levi would lie just to fuck with Enver. Levi had to lie, because there was no way this infant boy was actually his, Enver’s, flesh and blood.

***

Leviathan Anchev did not lie.

***

Levi moved away to sprawl his body across the bed, the creature of leisure he was. He sniffed the air and then wrinkled his nose, closer to an animal than any other person Gortash has ever known. More appealing in that, in his beast-like fluid grace.

“You still have this thing around,” the man commented, frowning. “Why? Playing the dollhouse? How...quant.”

“This thing has a name,” Enver couldn’t not parry. “Noah.”

Leviathan groaned.

“Oh, spare me the details; I want nothing to do with that flesh meat. Having to carry it inside my body for almost a year was a bother enough. Almost cut it out myself on multiple occasions, but Sceleritas insisted the internal damage I’d deal would be too great to handle. Idiot.” A moment of a thoughtful pause.

“You know what my destiny is, right?”

A searching gaze, reaching hands, clawed fingers cupping Enver’s cheeks almost gently. Something changed between them some time ago, but what it was Lord Gortash could not pinpoint. 

Yet something...Shifted.

Levi searching his face for some kind of acknowledgement was a sign of this.

Leviathan Anchev Enver first met would not care less about his approval. Leviathan Anchev of now was Enver’s nearest and dearest and it was pretty much a mutual kind of thing.

“I know.”

To kill everyone in the world and then himself. In Bhaal’s name. A gruesome fate, and pointless. Dull, lacking of any grandiose his, Enver’s, path had.

If only he could break off this deadly conviction in his dear ally, if only there was a way to make him stray out of this path...

They could be good for each other. They could rule together as the gods of the new age; glorious, undefeatable, perfect.

The rulers Toriel truly deserved.

“Then you know I’ll have to kill this...thing,” a moment of barely noticeable hesitation. “This... Noah.”

Enver also knew he would rather see his lover bleed on the altar of his dreadful father than let it happen.

“I do.”

“I,” another uncertain pause. “I was planning to leave you for last. To kill you and myself in one final blow; a perfect tribute to Father. But,” and really, those damn pauses were starting to get on Enver’s nerves. Levi was never short of words before, so what in the nine hells had happened? “Would you rather prefer I’d do you and...Noah... together? To kill you two in one blow?”

Ah.

Enver saw it for what it was, in the uncertain, searching gaze of his unlucky lover, in the carefulness with which he produced words.

Something warm flooded out the irritation from before; something warm and soft and entirely fragile.

It was mercy, the only kind of mercy the bhaalspawn could know. Leviathan Anchev, the man fully capable of destroying everyone and everything on his wake, offered him a tiny piece of his own surrender. A confirmation of his affections, almost a confession.

In some ways he did care.

“That would be very considerate of you, yes,” he agreed, bringing bhaalspawn close. His bhaalspawn, his ally, his lover. The father of his son.

If there was a way of bringing Bhaal down without bringing Levi with him, Enver would find and utilize it. Otherwise he’d have to kill the best partner in crime he has ever had.

And that would be...unfortunate.

Levi leaned into the touch, soft and gentle in a way he has never been before; almost fragile.

Trusting.

“Does it...know about me?” came out in a whisper, almost unbidden.

“He knows you exist,” was all the response Enver could give, enveloping his assassin into his arms, holding him closely, firmly, painfully so.

The bhaalspawn squirmed for a moment before finally settling in.

“Oh,” he breathed out. “I didn’t think you would...What you would tell him I do. Exist, I mean. I’d expect you’d spin a tale of some tragically dead wife or-“

“There is no tragically dead wife,” Enver cut off, feeling rather irritated. A mystery of complications, his dear murderer. “Only a lunatic of a murderer for a father. Not what Noah knows that, he knows we’re working together and what you’re a very busy man.”

“Hmph,” Levi’s breath brushed Enver’s neck. “I guess that is true.”

“Do you want to,” and now it was his time to be a hesitant bother. “Meet him?

At that Leviathan actually laughed.

“Oh, absolutely not, keep him and that strange dollhouse of yours as far away from me as possible. I have things to do, people to kill, empires to rule. I don’t have time for meat-things, of my own creation or not.”

And just like that, it was as if nothing has changed.

***

The alarm goes off the moment Karlach finishes the last of the Hands and flies into a wall by the force of the explosive detonating right into her face.

Enver doesn’t stop to register that, or to look around at the bodies of his faithful, to mourn his perfectly constructed plans – his watch, the Iron Throne, the little fireworks shop – because the alarm in Noah’s private chambers went off and it only means one thing.

Intruders.

He skips one step at the time climbing up the steep steps to the higher, more private level.

Could that be the remaining of Orin’s assassins?

Levi said he dispatched of them all, but surely some had to survive by the sheer luck of not being in the temple at the moment. Are those Ravengard’s forces, Florrick’s?

Is it Leviathan, finally coming to sniff out the life he himself created?

He is vaguely aware of the younger Ravengard and the pale elf taking the chase after him, of Karlach joining in.

They think he is escaping.

Idiots.

Enver tries not to think what he is leading the enemies right to his son; he’ll deal with them later. Right now there’s blazing alarm shrieking what something is wrong – and indeed it is, as he discovers with the first body lying dead on the floor. Then the second. Then the third.

All of them – with their throats ripped open, Leviathan’s favorite style.

Enver turns the corner and reaches for the door handle – the door is unlocked and half open: this is bad, bad, bad-

Then he hears a laughter and pauses.

He opens the door slowly and carefully instead of throwing it open as he intended at first.

And sees...

Levi is sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning slightly forward.

Across of him, sitting in the exact same – ridiculous – pose sits the boy not older than five. He has a dark messy hair, blazing green eyes what betray his nature, and the new game Gortash brought to him just recently. He is trying to explain the rules to the tiefling in front of him, who listens attentively, nodding here and there.

“Wow,” Leviathan Anchev comments with an air of nonchalance he didn’t have before. “I did not understand a thing. But good for you, lil one, good for you.”

“It’s really not that difficult,” Noah insists. “I can teach you! We can play together.”

Enver steps closer, somehow is still not detected neither by his son nor by his...his what?

Karlach almost crashes into the doorframe after him, but somehow manages to steady herself, takes in the view in front of her – and freezes.

So do the other two of Levi’s unruly companions. Gortash especially doesn’t like the pale one; he has a habit of sticking way closer to the bhaalspawn than it is proper.

“I am not that good at these kinds of games,” Levi admits as his tail flips from side to side and nostrils flare; he has detected him. Probably smelled before sensing. “But I have a friend with a real knack for them. He is a wizard and knows a lot of fun things; I think you’d get along.”

Noah looks uncertain.

“Are you sure?” he looks down. “I don’t think...I’m not allowed outside.”

“Really? And why is that?”

“Well,” the boy fidgets with his game. “Father says people who oppose him would try to use me against him, if they knew I existed. So I am kind of...a secret? It’s for my own safety!” he immediately adds, seeing Leviathan’s face blank out. “There’s a murderer on the loose, she really doesn’t like father despite supposedly working with him. Father says she will kill me if she finds out I exist.”

“Oh,” Levi looks taken aback at that. “I don’t think you need to worry about that anymore. If you’re talking about who I think you’re talking about, then she has been dealt with already.”

“Oh!” Noah brightens. “By whom?”

“By me. But say,” the spawn looks quizzically at the child in front of him, frowning slightly. “Is it just your father and you? Where’s your mother?”

“I don’t have one,” and this is definitely the moment then Enver needs to intervene, but he is just...frozen in place, turned to stone.

Leviathan Anchev he knew hated children.

This Leviathan Anchev is talking to a child as it was his best friend.

“I have a dad though!” Noah is a sweet fool, Enver taught him much better than telling complete strangers his entire life’s story. Stop. Talking. “He is...working a lot and is too busy to visit,” the boy looks down gloomily. “But! He and father are very close; they even stole from the devil together!”

Levi blinks. Then blinks once more. Then again.

“The devil, you say?” and is it just Gortash’s imagination, but did the man’s voice just rise up an octave?

“Yes! And not just any devil, the achdevil Mephistopheles!” Noah looks so absurdly proud of that it hurts. “They snuck right into his home, stole a crown from his vault and returned here. Unspotted, unstopped. Victorious.”

“What the fuck?” Karlach lets out and both the boy and the bhaalspawn who created him turn to the door.

Noah’s face immediately brightens.

“Father!” he exclaims, hastily getting to his feet and rushing to him. Behind the boy Levi gives the man the most bewildered stare he has ever seen.

“You have a child!” young Ravengard speaks out with the accusation in his voice. Enver really isn’t sure whom the man is addressing.

Noah is unperturbed.

“Father, I met a really cool guy, his name is Levi and he must be your friend because he came here with no problem at all; and he has children at his camp, two girls named Yenna and Arabella. Arabella is a druid because she stole the idol of Sylvanus and it gave her powers, and Yenna has a cat! But the cat is anxious so I shouldn’t pet it, but I can look at it! Please, can I look at Yenna’s cat? Levi said the evil murderer is dealt with, so it’s probably safe. And Levi can guard me if needed. Also there’s a vampire spawn in his camp and-“

The pale elf coughs.

“Hello there,” he tries, pulling a not entirely convincing smile up his lips. “A vampire spawn speaking. And you would be...”

“I am Noah!” says Noah right away; and did Enver shelter him too much? Damn, he has sheltered him too much. Look at the boy, he wants to befriend a vampire spawn. “I’m the son of the Archduke! Hello.”

“Yes, hi,” the elf looks at Levi uncertainly and back. “So...”

“So,” the bhaalspawn steps forward, the bewildered look stuck to his face. He crouches down to Noah’s level and takes his hands into his calloused and clawed ones. “So Noah...Your dad is the man who helped your father to steal the crown from the devil, is that right?”

Noah nods vigorously and Enver takes his time to observe the scene; the two bhaalspawns in front of each other, Levi’s posture, his relaxed shoulders, his slightly shaking hands. The tail that seems to have a life on its own and moves agitatedly behind its owner.

Three companions of the bhaalspawn, all somewhat stuck in place, with different levels of surprise stitched up their faces. The pale elf – a step closer, almost lingering at Leviathan’s side. Annoying.

Yet somehow, no matter how hard Gortash looks at it, he doesn’t sense any danger. Doesn’t see it, even with Karlach still aflame by the doorframe.

“Yep,” Noah agrees eagerly. “I wish he’d come to meet me soon. He will come, right? Once the work is done and all,” the boy sighs. “I mean, I am his son, surely he would care to come to meet me.”

“Um,” the tiefing looks uncertain. “And what if...something happened to him? What if he, say, lost his memories?”

“How? Did something hit him in the head?”

The vampire spawn chokes on a laugh and Levi rolls his eyes at him.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Let’s call it that. So...what if he doesn’t...exactly remember having you?”

“You mean if he’s lost and doesn’t know he needs to come back?”

“Something like that.”

“Well, I guess I’d come looking for him. He is my other father. It’s important.”

The force of conviction behind these words hits harder than a thunderwave.

Leviathan blinks hard, clears his throat, and then-

“You...don’t have to. I don’t remember much about my life before...certain events, but it was made adamantly clear to me I was the one to break into the Mephistopheles’ vault with your father. And if your dad is who did that, then,” he stops. “Then I guess- Enver, are you really just going to stand here like a fucking statue? Tell me if this is what I think it is or not.”

“You swore!”

“No, the fuck, I did not. Enver-“

“Now you swore twice!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake-“

“So,” Gortash steps forward, a lazy smile dancing on his lips. Gods only know how much this smile costs him. “You have known your son for the entirety of twenty minutes and already taught him a swear word. Really impressive.”

“Father?”

“Oh, listen here, you poignant prick-“

This, Enver thinks, is what family feels like.

[emmodii-mode]

Just finished my first playthrough of BG3. Romanced Lae'zel, but ending up turning into an Illithid because the idea of making Orpheus or Karlach do it didn't sit well with me (or my character).

I told Lae'zel to leave with Orpheus in the end (I heard she wouldn't stay with a ghaik anyway, which she's valid for, but also, it doesn't feel right to ask her to stay when I know how much her people mean to her). And like-

Her face before she flies off---

She looks so heartbroken and sad.

[9158forever]

wyll's character quest was kinda disappointing to me in act 3 for some reason, but I did like how the bad ending was the one where he gets involved in municipal government

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Soft Astarion Jealousy

Now with part 2!

I love Ascended Astarion because he's horrible but the sweetness of the other end of the spectrum is impossible to deny. He's just so in love and grateful I can't 🥺🥺

So here's some jealousy that isn't psychotic. Well it is but not as bad:

Astarion never expected to be the jealous type. He always thought...well. In all honesty he never thought about the reality of having a relationship. He didn't even think it was possible for him, let alone the idea that he would actually want it. Even with you, even after he admitted a fraction of his own feelings to himself, he never thought that he would be so... possessive. Though admittedly, he had very good cause for it.

Because you were frustrating. So, so frustrating. For some idiotic reason, you simply didn't understand how alluring to others you really were. You were a pretty little thing, yes but that wasn't the problem. It was so much more than that. And he knew that the others wanted you. Every last one of them. Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Halsin. All of them like moths to a flame. And that wasn't even counting all of the strangers you had met on your journey, the extras that thought they had a shot with your greatness. They all wanted you in ways that made Astarion seethe. And the desire from others wasn't even the kind that he was used to, the kind he understood like the back of his hand. Because you didn't need to seduce to cultivate desire. All you needed to stoke the flames was merely your presence. Experiencing you was all that was required for people to know they wanted more.

Astarion knew that the others weren't just looking for a bedmate, they wanted you for the same reasons he had grown to. Your empathy, your desire to understand those around you. Your fearlessness, your infuriating habit of always trying to do the right thing. They wanted you for your laugh, the way your eyes would crinkle in the corners when your smile was too wide. Your silly jokes, your endless hopefulness for a future. It felt as though everyone around saw you for the gem that you were and it was... concerning. Extremely concerning.

Astarion hated thinking about things like this. He loathed admitting the truth to himself even more. But he was...terrified of losing you to someone else. Especially since it could so easily be done. He was so very lucky that you weren't the brightest, or at least not when it came to matters of the heart. You could do so much better than him, a fact that was incredibly obvious to everyone around you. Everyone but you, a luck that Astarion did not take lightly. But how much time did he have before it ran out? Would it ever?

Perhaps it was delusional, but he was starting to think when all of this was over, assuming neither of you perished anyway, that...it could just be the two of you. Living together, exploring the world, even if it had to be under the cloak of night. Maybe... maybe the two of you could even find a cure for his unsavory condition. The thought itself was incredibly stupid, but then again, it was just as idiotic to believe that there was a cure to the Mind Flayer parasite. But here they were, closer then ever. And if that was such an impossibility turned into reality, perhaps a vampiric cure wasn't so impossible. Or maybe even finding an alternative method for immortality for you, without the downsides of his own. Anything that could just keep you both together, for as long as possible. It was an unrealistic dream, that would never come into fruition. If anything it was dangerous, so very dangerous to even entertain the thought of forever. Especially when your connection was so tenuous.

Astarion would never be stupid enough to thank Cazador for anything but...he'd be lying if he said he wasn't appreciative for his own lack of subtly when it came to seducing you. Even if it originally was for distasteful reasons, it still got him ahead of the pack. If he had been less calculating, less astute, there was a sincere chance that you would be warming someone else's bed at night. Callousness would never be without it's uses, even if it led to uncomfortable situations like his current infatuation.

What would he do when you inevitably wanted to leave? How could he survive after having something so...good. Someone so caring, someone who for some very horrifying reason liked being around him. And the sex... it was fabulous. He was a massive fan of your intimacy, when he was capable of participating in it. He adored it, he adored you, your beauty, the sweet noises he could coax from your mouth, the europhia of being inside of you. Then there was the fact that you could be intimate without any traces of it devolving into lovemaking. He had never been gifted with the ability to say no before, so often and so freely without a single fear of punishment. If anything, it felt like he was rewarded when he was honest with you, when he would share his sudden fits of discomfort in his own body, the memories that plagued him and doomed him to staying stubbornly soft. You would never get angry, never even disappointed. You would just listen and smile, always adorable when you would ask, "But I can stay for a cuddle, can't I?"

An extremely silly question, considering the two of you hadn't spent a night apart from each other since you'd made it to the Shadowlands. Yet it never failed to make him melt.

It was getting worse, these feelings. He just wanted you around, by his side, constantly. Constant enough for him to get the ridiculous urge to hiss at anyone else who dared to come near you. He felt an intense need to protect the closeness the both of you had cultivated, the kind that he had never been allowed before. He had no interest in sharing you with your own friends when it came down to it, let alone another lover.

Which is precisely why his original, mild distaste for Halsin turned into a full-blown hatred the night he had the gall to proposition you.

It had felt like a shard of ice going through his chest when you bounded over to him, laughing about one of his greatest fears coming much too close to reality, "You won't believe the conversation Halsin and I just had-"

"Ah, I was wondering when you were going to ask me about that," Astarion laughed, purposefully interrupting you. He had no desire to hear the specifics of that conversation. He didn't even want to be having this conversation, where you were inevitably going to ask if it was okay to explore someone else.

The answer was no. Never would he be okay with it, allowing someone else to be close to what should have been his. But he needed to think strategically here. To say no could be disasterous. If it became a game of choice between him and Halsin... he's almost certain he would lose. Halsin was everything he wasn't; caring, giving, sharing in your worldviews in a way that Astarion never could. He couldn't risk it, he wouldn't. Having you at all was better than nothing.

"But I'd never even consider something like that-"

"It's fine," Astarion interrupts again, the fakest smile he can muster plastered on his face. The pain was worth the risk mitigation, he was sure of that. But... he still had to ask, "But is this because we haven't...y'know, in awhile?"

A sick part of him prays that you'll say yes. Because if that's the reason, he could do something about it. He could force himself if need be to always tend to your needs. Especially if it meant keeping you to himself. It was such a small sacrifice in comparison to the rest of his life. He would do it in a heartbeat if you demanded, anything to just make you stay.

But that was not the answer he received. Instead you frowned, looking him up and down, "What? No, I-Astarion no. Please don't think that. What we have together is so special to me. The physical part of it is lovely, perfect even. But...it's not what we are."

It's almost comforting to hear you say that. But then why did that make the situation feel so much worse? If it wasn't sex you were after then that certainly meant you wanted more with Halsin as well, did it not? But it was too late to rescind it now.

Astarion nodded, a confused mixture of hurt and gratefulness swirling through him, "I just needed to know. But if you're satisfied with me and just want to explore, go right ahead. I'll be here when you're done."

You nodded slowly, brow furrowed when you asked, "So...we aren't exclusive then?"

"No, of course not," Astarion confirmed, ignoring everything inside of him that was screaming for him to take it all back, "We can be as open as you'd like."

"I see..." You said, trailing off with a frown. You coughed into your hand, looking up at him sharply. Sharp enough for him to be sincerely confused, "Does this mean that you'll be speaking to me before you explore your other options?"

"I-yes? If you want?" Astarion answered, a new type of unease settling in his chest. You didn't seem very happy with this conversation, despite his best attempts to give you what you wanted. Where had he gone wrong? Was he already working to throw you into the arm's of another man, without even trying?

You were still frowning at him, your look cold in a way that made him feel particularly ill, "Please do. I'd like to know everything. I'm going to speak to Halsin, get this all sorted. We can talk later."

And then you were spinning on your heel and marching away, like Astarion was the offensive party here. It made no sense. He had done it all right, hadn't he? Agreed to it immediately, didn't make you feel guilty, had tried to be what you wanted. How had he failed?

He didn't wait around to see you go to Halsin. Instead he went straight back to his tent, closing the flap as he laid down. Great. Fantastic. Now he would have to be aware, perhaps even hear you being with another, while simultaneously reliving that horrid conversation in his head for the entire night. The hurt and worry was making his mind wander to uncomfortable places. Perhaps...Halsin could be dealt with in another way if things became too serious between the two of you.

Would poisoning the man be too extreme?

But before Astarion had the time to start thinking of a more detailed plan he was interrupted. Suddnely, moonlight was filling his tent, with your silleoute shining in the darkness.

He blinked up at you, confused, "What are you doing here?"

You frowned at him, looking hesitant in the entry way, "Should I not be? I thought-I can go if you'd like."

"No!" Astarion blurted out, loud and desperate enough to make him cringe. He cleared his throat, trying again, his voice still a touch too pitiful for his liking, "No, no, come here darling. Of course you're always welcome. I just assumed you would be busy."

To his relief you listened, crawling into the bedroll next to him. Astarion didn't waste any time in wrapping his arms around you, relieved to humiliating degrees that you had chosen to come back after the deed. Though...you didn't quite smell as he had thought you would. There were no traces of the floral, woodsy smell of the druid on your skin. Just the sweet, pleasant scent that he had grown so fond of.

You sighed as he tucked you against him, the warmth of you enough to make him relax for the first time that night. You laid together in a pleasant quiet, one that Astarion was actually scared to disturb. Despite the fact that he desperately wanted to know what happened between the two of you.

But you broke the silence for him, muttering into his chest after the two of you were settled, "I'm...sorry for being snappish earlier. I shouldn't have been. You didn't do anything wrong, and I know I don't own you. I shouldn't have assumed."

Astarion frowned, pulling back to get a proper look at your face. You looked hurt, sad even. Like you were the one who had gotten their heart broken. He could feel a curl of distaste settling in his stomach, annoyed that this felt as though the situation was being placed back to him. He had played his part, perfectly. What more could you ask for? What was there to assume?

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Astarion carefully said, his eyes fixed on every micro expression on your face, "What did I do that could have been construed as incorrect?"

"Nothing!" You rushed to say, shame coloring your cheeks, "I was being stupid. You never promised me anything. I just...assumed. Wrongly that we were something we aren't."

That didn't-he-what? Astarion frowned at her, his confusion evident on his face, "What did you think we were?"

You looked uncomfortable, avoiding his gaze when you answered, "I thought that we were...together. Alone. Just us. But if that's not what you want I understand. It's fine-"

"What in the hells are you talking about?" Astarion blurted out, his anger and pain bubbling to the surface, "I haven't done a thing. And we were just us before you decided to galivant off with a bear of a man!"

He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. So much for playing things safely. No, he couldn't even have the self-control to stay quiet. He always had to ruin everything.

But surprisingly, you didn't look angry. If anything you seemed just as confused as he felt, "What? I didn't-we didn't do anything! When did I say I wanted to do anything with Halsin? You were the one saying you didn't care!"

You weren't making any damn sense, "Well why else would you ask me about it?"

"I didn't!" You huffed, glaring at him, "All I was going to say was that he asked me. And I wanted your help on how to best turn him down! And then you jumped at the chance to push me onto someone else-"

"I did nothing of the sort!" Astarion seethed back, "If it was up to me you would never look at another man again! Or woman for that matter!"

It was an odd feeling, to be arguing while holding each other so closely. But Astarion had no intention of letting you go anytime soon, even if he could feel you squirming against his ironclad grip when you fumed at him, "Then why would you say it was okay?!"

"Because I don't want you to leave me!" He shouted back, loud enough to snap him out of his own anger. All of his fury was instantly replaced with fear. Gods, why had he felt the need to say that? To lay his biggest insecurity out on the line. Why not just hand you a stake while he was at it, since he was so eager to give you the tools to destroy him.

But you were still seething, hissing back at him, "Why praytell, would I leave the man I've been in love with for months? Hm? Please, explain it to me!"

Astarion couldn't. He was too busy being shell-shocked at the confession, feeling too many emotions at once. Joy, relief, somehow even more fear than before. You so freely said the words that he had done his damndest to bury, to ignore. But now they were out there, filling him with a horrifying joy.

He wanted to say it back. He did. But he couldn't get the wrecthed words out. Instead he was just staring at you like an imbeicle, his mouth hanging opening at the confession.

But his silence didn't make you falter. Instead you looked determined, near fierce as you grasped his face into your warm hands, "I love you Astarion. You don't have to say it back. That's not what this is about. But I want you. And only you. If you want the same of me then you must tell me. Now."

Astarion let his hands flutter over your wrists, humiliating tears prickling at his eyes. But at least his vocal chords allowed him to answer you this time, "I do. So much more than you know. I want us. Just us. No one else."

The words were flowing out of him, too fast and sincere for him to make the appropriate edits in his head. He was saying too much, feeling too much, giving too much. But the way your eyes brightened at his words, the way you grinned at him before pulling him in for a sweet kiss made it suddenly feel like he wasn't giving anything up at all.

As much as he loathed to admit it, Astarion was exceedingly grateful for Halsin's existence after that night. He would never have had the gall to demand you to himself without a trigger, without the anger you both shared at being misunderstood. Because now, you were his. His alone, the proclamation coming from your own lips. And he was free to stop hiding how much he had wanted it. How willing he was to do anything to keep it. He let himself off his own leash after that, leaning completely into the mutual ownership you had of each other. No more would he silently sit back and seethe as a stranger flirted with you. No, now he'd be upfront and center, with a possessive hand around your waist as he glared them down, more than prepared with a confidence-shattering quip on his tongue.

He started to let all of his urges seep through, taking full advantage of your willingness. If Wyll looked at you for too long at the fire, with a touch of something that Astarion didn't like in his eyes, he'd effortlessly pull you into his lap onlookers be damned as breathed you in. If Gale suddenly had a suspect offer to teach you some new magic in a secluded location, Astarion would invite himself, impervious to any glares sent his way. And when he felt as though all of them were being a bit too flirtaious, he was more than happy to put them in their places at night. Spending hours upon hours making you scream his name in bed from pleasure, loud enough for everyone to hear and know exactly who you belonged to.

He couldn't care less if it added to his own unpopularity amongst their merry-band of rejects. Their opinions didn't matter. Not when you were eating all of the sudden attention up.

You let him do it all because you understood him, in ways that no one else had bothered to before. You knew who he was, what he wanted, the extent to how much he craved your attention. And you let it all happened, reveled in it even. The intense shows of affection. Because you loved him. And he loved you. And one of these days he'd allow himself to admit the obvious.

But for now, he had what he wanted. What he needed. And in the first time in his life, even with disgusting tadpoles squirming his his brain, Astarion was actually...happy.

[unluckiestmember]

Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Astarion Ancunin, Shadowheart, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, Karlach and Halsin

Tags: friends to lovers, acquittances to lovers, in denial, overprotective, fluff, indirect kisses, Gale being Gale, fake love (until it's not), established relationship and innocence.

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

A/N: Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. No, I'm still in a chokehold-

Astarion Ancunin

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever? I could just eat you right up, darling~.”

When he first met you, Astarion knew you were an easy target. A nice meal he could exploit, especially if you’re a virgin, and a great pawn for the road ahead. He would deliver sweet nothings to you in hopes of sleeping in your bed and drinking from the pure blood that coursed through your veins. But as time continued, as you showed how sweet you were, the pale elf found himself genuinely falling for you.

He wanted to protect you from the world around both of you and bite anyone who tried to hurt you. He’d even hesitate on feeding from you out of fear he’d hurt you or expose himself to your pained gasps. You were his precious jewel he couldn’t afford to be taken from him or tainted in any way. With everyone else, he’s still a flirtatious and snarky vampire spawn. But around you, he will always be a sweet man who wants to make sure you’re okay. His princess/prince… That being said, don’t expect him to stop flirting with you. He adores when you get flustered.

Shadowheart

“Stand behind me! I don’t want you to get hurt! Just do as I say, okay?!”

At first Shadowheart thought you weren’t real. That there was no way in the nine hells that there was someone as pure as you. She genuinely thought your personality was a charade. So she watched you carefully, waiting for you to show your true colors in the form of berating someone or betraying one of the campers. But you never did. You always stayed true to yourself.

When she realized that you were probably the most modest person in your motley crew, the Shar Worshipper became attracted to you. She spent more time with you and suddenly felt like she needed to take care of you along your adventure together. Similar to Astarion, Shadowheart tries to be ever so gentle with you, never using pain in bed and out of bed unless you approve of her actions when she asks for permission. It’s evident to everyone she cares deeply for you and wouldn’t mind spending her life with you.

Gale Dekarios

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen the embodiment of happiness. Who knew I would find that in you?”

You had Gale’s heart as soon as you said hi to him. It didn’t take long for this man to turn into putty around you nor to become friends with you. And he fell in love when you always gave him magical objects without hesitation. Asking him if he’s alright and stroking his head after he eats his weave? He was swooned. The closer you two became, the more the wizard would share his life with you like an open book and offer any kind of lesson in magic to you.

It didn’t take long for him to admit he had romantic feelings for you, leading to you to become a couple. At camp, he is a gentleman, always asking if you need anything in between kisses to your cheek and becoming bashful with you when you bless his ears with your giggles. Outside of camp, he’s focused on you, making sure no one lays a finger or spell on that cute head of yours. You bring the best out of Gale and make him the happiest man in all of the realms.

Lae’zel

“G’lyck. If you’re hurt, then go to the ghustil… Hurry up or I’ll drag you to her myself.”

You were a liability to Lae’zel. Always getting hurt? Never killing your enemies? Checking up on everyone over yourself? She wanted nothing more than to throw you to the wolves so you wouldn’t ruin the group’s odds of survival. She hated you with a flaming passion. She hated how you always asked if she was okay. How you always treated her wounds after a battle and dare to kiss her injuries better. How you cowered behind her during combat.. And especially how you made her heart flutter when you slept across from her by the campfire, watching your cute face in a state of peace…

If it was up to her, she’d kick you out of the camp for what you’ve done to her. She swears it. But for now? She guesses she’ll keep you around for a little longer. Besides, she knows without her you’d die out there. You need her and she needs you.

Wyll Ravengard

“Don’t fret now, I won’t let them lay a finger on you, not when the Blade of Frontiers is right by your side.”

Wyll always wanted to have a romance like fairy tales. Save a fair princess or prince from their troubles like a knight in shining armor while slaying dragons. To meet someone who was the sweetest thing alive and experience real happiness with them by his side. So when he met you, you can bet he felt like he won the jackpot! He found your bashful nature and careless personality to be a breath of fresh air, especially when he was punished by Mizora.

At first you were a great friend, but when you took care of him, polished his horns and always checked if he was alright after fights, true love sprung between you two. It didn’t take long for him to confess his feelings to you and take your hand as your boyfriend. From that day forward, he’s been your savior on and off the battlefield when he wasn’t your sweet lover that showered you in compliments and kisses. You are positive that with Wyll you are bound to have a happily ever after.

Karlach

“Aww, you’re so adorable I just wanna squish your cheeks and hug you forever!... I can?! Well, come here, you!”

It was love at first sight between you and Karlach. After you splashed her with water and made sure she was okay, the barbarian’s heart was in your hands. She was so used to meeting backstabbers, manipulators and liars that she wasn’t sure there were any good people left. But you proved her wrong and she was so happy you did. Because of you, she made it her sole mission to get infernal iron so she could touch you.

When she couldn’t, she would share indirect kisses with you using rocks and even gift you her teddy bear Clive when you couldn’t hold her. And when she finally was able to touch you, she held you as if her life depended on it. There isn’t a moment where you two are not touching in and out of camp. You make her feel alive again in more ways than one and to her you are her soulmate. She loves you so much and will do anything to make sure you know that.

Halsin

“If you were a part of nature’s divine design, then you are a pure ray of sunshine given by the Oak Father.”

Halsin immediately gave you his trust and respect when you saved him without a reason to. It didn’t help that he also found you to be adorable with how nervous you got around him and how you stuttered a bit. With how you were, the druid quickly grew an interest in you, wanting to be beside you and feel your skin against his. He loved how you were so considerate when he wild shaped, petting his head and playing with him effortlessly.

In the wilderness, you were something like his mate, always protected by foes and checked for injuries. If there were any, he would bandage them as quickly as he could and carry you the rest of the way back to camp. When everything was settled, he’d immediately cuddle you as himself or as a bear. You were perfect in every way to him and for that, he would be your sole protector no matter what.

If you got any requests for Baldur's Gate 3, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[feyascorner]

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

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

Tav needs a hug :,)

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

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

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

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

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

Gods.

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

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

“Are you alright, darling?”

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

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

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

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

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

You finally look at him.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

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

“…not now.”

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

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

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

[vspin]

On Act 3 and the lack of companion reactivity and dialogue.

So, I officially hit 400 hours on BG3 yesterday (no lifing it lmao) and I've been thinking about some things I wish Larian would improve or wish that they had implemented. A big thing that comes to mind is how much companion reactivity and dialogue abruptly stops in Act 3.

Act 1 really shines with companion reactivity. They always have something to say to the MC, to NPCs, or even to each other! I love the interaction after you use your ilithid powers for the first time and it's a 4 way conversation between everyone.

Then we get to Act 3 and there's such huge drop-off. Some big offenses:

Very little reaction to quests and locations. When I killed Raphael I only got comments from Astarion and Gale! Seriously?? We just survived a trip to the Hells! This happens with multiple quests

Blank faces when Durge is killed by Bhaal.

Camp is lifeless. Everyone just stands in front of their bed, There are no interactions.

In my playthrough, the Emporer admitted to my Tav he was manipulating her and didn't really care. It was bummer I couldn't talk to the other tadpole gang about it.

I remember coming across a Druid in the city. He was trying to heal a tree. So I went back and grabbed Halsin because he was complaining no one in the city cared about nature or balance. So I thought surely, he would have an interaction here! Nope, nothing!

As soon as you finish a companion's personal quest that is basically the end of your interactions with them; even if you romance them.

What I'd like to see: (Disclaimer: Just my opinions. I have no expectation of any of this being added to the game)

More camp interaction between companions. Jahiera and Minsc had a great example of this. Let there be a quick cutscene of Minsc and Halsin arm wrestling. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion drinking wine. Anything. DA:I did a great job at this. It seemed like anytime I approached someone for dialogue they were in the middle of an interaction with someone else. Or events like the card game. It brought a lot of life into the party.

More random city encounters. They did a good job with Karlach; she has interactions with the steel watcher and her friend Fitz. Would have been cool to have some of those with Wyll, maybe he meets another noble or a flaming fist and has to deal with their shock of seeing him as a devil. Or with Gale in Sorcerous Sundries (he is a famous wizard after all!). Astarion mentions he needs to keep a low profile in the taverns; what if someone called him out!

More reactions to story events.

Expand on romances a bit more. We don't need it to be a dating sim but if you finish your LI's quest early on get used to just asking for small pecks and that's it. I would like to see more romance-specific dialogue for quest reactions.

And Finally:

We needed all companions at the final battle. Everyone should have been at the main keep before confronting the brain. You should have had your final conversations with them before you all potentially die in battle. DA:O style. A passionate kiss with your LI (not a tiny little peck lmao). This was a huge exclusion.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on the matter. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[justporo]

Who's the goose... (1)

Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!

Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Stupid

Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)

Wordcount: 3,7k

~~~

A goose sat in front of you all.

And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.

The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.

It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.

That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.

You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.

And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.

The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.

The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?

Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.

Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.

You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.

Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.

But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.

It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.

But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.

After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.

You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.

And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.

With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.

Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.

The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.

And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.

So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.

You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?

You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.

Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.

Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.

For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.

How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?

Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.

But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.

So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.

You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.

When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.

Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.

But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.

Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.

“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.

Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.

You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.

Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.

You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.

The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.

You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.

“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.

“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.

“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.

He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.

The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.

“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.

You waved Gale to please go on.

“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.

Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.

“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”

“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.

“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.

Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.

The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.

“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.

“Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.

Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.

You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.

“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.

And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.

“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.

Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.

You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.

But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.

Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.

“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.

“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.

“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.

“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle

“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.

“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.

Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.

You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.

But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.

Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.

“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.

After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.

Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.

Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.

You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.

(To be continued...)

~~~

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

That’s What I Call Repressed Sexual Tension - A.A.

Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Reader (Paladin)

Warnings: 18+, Pining, Baldur’s Gate 3 Act I spoilers (I’ve only just now gotten to Act II), Smut (Sub!Reader x Dom!Astarion) – Fingering, P-in-V, Breast Fondling, NOT proofread, Astarion’s a bit of a perv – but still gentle, Fluff, Astarion is whipped (and calls you sickeningly sweet pet names), you’re kind of oblivious; I tried to make this as body-inclusive as I could, but still Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4,230

Summary: You were nearly certain that you hated Astarion and Astarion hated you. Until one day, after battle, you decide to partake in a wash. So does Astarion, much to your surprise. The truth of yours and Astarion’s true feelings towards one another is revealed.

A/N: Hey guys, welcome to the new hyperfixation! Right now I’m doing a playthrough of BG3 and I’m OBSESSED with Astarion. I’ve also read quite a few stories on here, and felt the need to provide my own as well. Please let me know what you think! Expect to see more Astarion in the future on this page!

God, you loathed Astarion. Or so you thought.

He was a selfish, reckless, devious pig. And he knew it too.

Little did you know, Astarion’s behaviors were exacerbated due to, well, you. Obviously his aura of cocky arrogancy radiated regardless of who was around, but around you he felt the need to… cover, more. Secretly, he was quite smitten for you. But obviously, he didn’t need you to know that. You had just finished battling it out against the goblins, which had been a tiring battle. Now, you were headed back to Emerald Grove. “Darling, you know, you didn’t have to smite him. That was kind of a waste of energy for you” Astarion sauntered over, making a quip at you. “You know, Ass, we won, didn’t we? Does it even matter? We’re going back to camp now; I’ll be resting soon.”

Ass was the nickname that you had so lovingly given him one night after he had drunk from you for the first time. You woke up to find him leaning over you, fangs exposed, ready to press them against your neck. After you had willingly allowed him to continue, you woke up woozy and drowsy, almost unable to walk. He came to check on you, making fun of your trembling. “Wow, darling. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who got lucky last night.” He winked.

“Shove it, you ass.” You snapped back. “Eh, I’ve been called worse, I assure you.” “Well, say hello to your new nickname, Ass.” “Quite clever darling, it’s almost as if it’s a shortened ver-“ you cut him off. “You ever want a taste of my blood again, you shut your mouth.” He clamped his mouth shut almost instantaneously, his lips forming into an impressive pout.

Since that day, Astarion had been relatively whipped by you. The sight of you trembling, the actual kindness that you displayed towards him in allowing him his first taste of “thinking” blood. God, he would trade all of his meals just for a taste of your blood again. He hadn’t gotten a taste again, but he frequently inquired about the subject and whether or not you’d be willing to allow him to indulge yet again. The real reason he had even said anything about your energy level post-battle was due to the fact that he would prefer you to save your energy for other circumstances, namely him drinking your blood – or other things. Other, dirtier things.

The trek back to camp was long and tiring. But you were alive, and that was all that mattered. You had Karlach and Gale along with you as well, thankfully. So you weren’t alone with the vampire. Although, he would have preferred it that way. He was hoping that he would have a chance alone with you later in the evening. Typically, other members of the group would jump at the chance to simply be in your presence, so he rarely got the opportunity. Tonight would be different, he reassured himself.

You decided that this late afternoon would be a prime opportunity for a wash. You had slept for about an hour to regain your strength, and Shadowheart had used her magic to mend you. Of course, Astarion had kept a close eye on you to make sure you were alright. So, when you wandered off, Astarion followed. “She needs supervision” he had told the rest of the group. Then, he sauntered off after you, careful not to make his presence known. He was a stealthy one, that’s for sure, and it came in quite handy in situations like these.

The nearby pond was mostly still water, despite the glorious waterfall that fell from the rocks that formed above it, clearly streaming from a larger body of water nearby. The rocks were all fairly dark and gray. The pond itself had strikingly blue-green water, that was still clear mostly. There were spots where algae had developed and broken off, but the water still cleaned better than the majority that you had witnessed in your travels. This place had become your own personal spa, in a sense.

He watched from afar as you began to strip your clothing off. He hadn’t been able to make a full assessment on you yet, as he had only seen slivers of your bare skin between the top and the bottoms of your pajamas, although he always hoped to see more. And now, he was going to. Finally.

You began at the top, peeling the shirt from your bodice, revealing your bra underneath. It was a translucent-white, which effectively made Astarion’s breath hitch in his chest. He could have taken red, black, blue, whatever other color you desired. But – white? Gods, it made his mind wander. And his cock harden. He couldn’t help the way that you made him feel. He had spent too many nights alone in his tent, at least for his liking. Next to be revealed were your legs, which looked beautiful despite various scrapes, bruises and cuts scattered about them. His only wish now was to have them wrapped around him – anywhere and everywhere. Around his head, around his pelvis, around his legs as he cuddled you softly to sleep in his tent. Ran his hands through your locks. Kept on high alert – just in case. He always did, but it would feel more important if he had something so precious to protect.

Astarion’s daydreaming almost tore him from the sight in front of him. Almost. The next time he looked, you began removing your bra. “Oh Gods…” Astarion spoke, thankfully quietly enough to maintain the secrecy of his presence. Your breasts were no longer under their cover, and Astarion could hardly contain himself any longer. He cupped the bulge in his pants gently, he needed the slightest bit of friction in that area. The next to be revealed was your glorious heat, not entirely cleanly shaven, but clearly well-maintained.

It was within the next few minutes that you decided to indulge in the water, laying a towel out on a nearby rock for after your dip. He noticed you head towards the waterfall, your hips swaying generously for his eyes, and he almost let his focus falter.  Astarion then made the decision to make his move, sliding his shoes off, then stripping himself of his pants, shirt, and underwear. He also made the conscious decision to sneak your own clothes away from the towel you had to delicately laid out, perfectly upon the rock. Just because he was mildly infatuated with you, didn’t mean he would play nice. In fact, it made him want to play even rougher.

You were fairly oblivious to the rogue in the shade, currently your only focus was relishing in the waterfall and running your hands through your hair, combing it out gently with your fingernails. It was the most relaxed you had felt in the past 24 hours. Little did you know, a certain rogue had set his sights on you – hoping to relax you even further.

The water was lukewarm from basking in the sun for the majority of the day. Exotic flora surrounded the pond, making it look inviting and tropical. However, some of the plants could be deadly, which kept both yourself and Astarion from getting close to them. Astarion glided himself into the water, careful to maintain quiet and stealthy as to not alert you to his presence – yet. He glanced at your bottom again, taking it all in. Soon, he hoped you’d be all his. If everything went as planned.

The water barely covered Astarion’s pelvis as he floated over to you. His fingertips played along the surface of the water, taking in the beautiful scenery. It wasn’t often that Astarion was able to do so. But now, he felt relaxed, yet almost – nervous? For what was to come ahead. It wasn’t often that Astarion felt unnerved in this way. You just meant so much to him. And he didn’t want to lose that. He began to contemplate his current choices and whether or not this would end poorly for you both. Perhaps you would be enraged, forcing him out of the party and never to speak to you again. Perhaps you would denounce his desires and state that you longed for someone else.

To his surprise, you yelped and jumped, trying to cover yourself as much as possible. You had seen him. You hid behind the waterfall, sinking further and further into the wall of stone. You covered your bosom with your arms, much to Astarion’s disappointment. Astarion’s confidence rose again, approaching your form behind the waterfall. “No need to hide away, darling. It’s just me, after all” he tutted. By the time he had crept fully into the other, more secluded side of the waterfall, you had sunk into the water, on your knees now, merely your head poking out of the water. Your eyes looked up at him almost submissively, which nearly made his knees buckle in excitement.

“What are you doing here, Ass? How long have you been here?”

“Long enough, my sweet. Just out admiring the view, washing up, you know.” As much as Astarion longed to tower over you, he needed to get down to your level. He sank down himself, until his eyes were meeting yours, just above the surface of the water. You were always quick to spit back at Astarion, but given the nature of the situation, you simply couldn’t. Any thoughts that you had about snipping at him were completely and entirely blocked out of your consciousness. Instead, you uncertainly inquired “how much did you see?”

“Oh Gods, dear. I’ve seen everything.” His response made you shutter, although the smirk placed upon his lips led you to believe that he was indeed happy about this fact. You wondered why. “Let me help wash you, petal?” You shifted for a moment, pondering the possibility. Astarion had already seen all of you, hadn’t he? You wondered for a moment whether or not to decline. Maybe he was just trying to be helpful, you thought. Your mind raced through a variety of complex and simple possibilities, trying to track each one. Astarion caught on to this, merely catching your attention with a “dove?” “I- uhm- oo-kay” you responded slowly beginning to rise out of the water, and Astarion followed. You kept your arms firmly planted around your breasts, careful not to reveal yourself too much.

Astarion stood behind you, washing your back with handfuls of the waterfall that he so gently placed on your neck, shoulder blades, and spine. “Darling, you do know I have seen those breathtaking breasts of yours, correct?” You nodded hesitantly in response, still in moderate shock from the present situation. You thought you absolutely detested Astarion, and he you. But, here he was, helping you wash blood and dirt off of your back, so – intimately. You had been intimate with people before, however, this felt slightly different. And it felt different to Astarion as well, unbeknownst to you. Good different. Slowly, you began to drop your arms from your breasts. Astarion watched intently as your nipples were freed once more, it was pertinent that they were chilled from their prominence. “You know,” he whispered into your ear from behind “if you are scared of anyone happening to see them – I could hold them on your behalf.” Astarion’s voice sounded as if it was winking at you. Truthfully, now that Astarion was aware of how shell shocked you were, he knew he needed to be gentle with you. At least at first.

“Uhm – well I – uhm well sure” you managed to stutter out. “Good girl” Astarion whispered into your ear once more, bringing his hands to play with your nipples. You let out a soft mewl at the sensation. “Ooh, you like that, don’t you love?” Astarion teased, tutting his tongue again. You nodded feverishly, although this did not seem to please him. “Use your words, beautiful.” “Yes, I do Astarion. I-It feels g-good.”

Astarion’s hand molded and palmed your breasts, and he went to speak. However, you had beaten him to it. “Pl-lease m-more” you begged. He took one of his hands, bringing it down to your heat. You were nervous, as you were fairly sure you were embarrassingly wet down there, and your body began to reflect that. “Darling, why are you shaking? Please, don’t give in for my sake, I want you to want this.” Astarion spoke with more care than he ever had with you. You turned to face him “Ass, you fool, of course I want this…” you had built up confidence to divert back to his nickname, which he was glad for. But then you remembered the reasoning for your timidness. You were dripping. “I- just- well- I- I am really wet.” Your cheeks reddened as you spoke, you felt yourself sinking back into timidness in front of him, but you had nowhere to hide “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize for your desires, doll. I’m more than thrilled that I have been able to bring this out of you. That I have this effect on you. I was terrified of your rejection, darling girl.” Given Astarion’s newfound openness his emotions with you drove your desire for him to new heights. Your next move was to pull him into your lips, your hand wrapped around his neck as you did so. As your lips landed on his, you felt a rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your confidence built once more, using your teeth to pull on Astarion’s bottom lip before finally releasing it. You winked, while Astarion stood in awe of your previous actions, finally stating “you cheeky little pup.” He took this opportunity to grab your waist, picking you up and lifting you out of the water. You yelped, surprised at his action. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Astarion carried you over to where your towel lay, gently placing you down on it, then allowing himself to follow.

His leg hooked underneath you, and you willingly allowed it to push your legs apart so that he could hover between them. He leant down to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, which you welcomed. His lips were breathtakingly sweet and supple, you had felt them on your neck before, but that hardly amounted to the feeling you had now. Although his lips on your neck certainly did have the capacity to drive you mad. “Please Astarion, take me.” He wasn’t used to hearing the entirety of his name spoken from your lips. But it was a welcome thing to hear his full name fall from your lips. To know the full extent that you wanted him. Because he wanted you too. Desperately.

“Patience, my sweet.” He spoke, retreating from your form. You immediately tried to grab at him to pull him back, but then realized where he was headed. He tutted in response, speaking the word again “patience. Allow me to indulge in you.” Astarion’s lips peppered kisses along your upper thighs, before reaching his hands to assess the state of your heat. He used one hand to pull the folds of your labia apart, and the other to bring a finger to your clit. You were right, you were very, extremely wet. You whimper as his fingernail flicks across your clit. You tense, but his words bring you back down “relax, my dear.”

He spoke once more, this time with a proposition rather than a demand. “You can say no to this darling. But I would love to taste you, while I taste you.” “Huh?” For the first time, you were confused by Astarion’s words. “I would just place a little bite ‘here’ and ‘here’” he pressed into your inner thigh with two fingers, displaying where his fangs would penetrate your skin and release your sweet blood. “Then, I would drink from you while also sipping on your sweet nectar.” You nodded feverishly in response, eager for this stimulation that this would bring you. “Use your words, love.” Deviously, he placed his finger upon your clit, humming in contentment as he watched your body convulse in ecstasy in front of his eyes. “P-p-ple-ee-a-se.” You moaned out, barely able to make a single word out at this point. “I’m sorry, what was that dear? I couldn’t make that out.” “F-fuck y-you… t-te-ase.” “Oh, you will darling. You will. All in good time.”

“Bite me, Astarion. Plea-.” You finally gathered yourself together enough to state it, and you felt his fangs sink into you before you could even finish your sentence. You whimpered as he fed from your thigh, holding it down with one hand, the other arm resting on your opposite hip. Gods, you were delectable. You had brought your hands to tangle within his hair, gently massaging as he began. He suckled your skin, allowing him to intake more blood, but also causing your skin to latch closely to his tongue, where hundreds of blood vessels burst and petechiae formed, leaving a carmine-tinged love mark. A small “hmm” of pleasure left his lips as he pulled away, the circular marks that his teeth left were prominent, and bound to leave a mark. You felt woozy, similarly to the other times he had fed from you, but almost blissfully so this time. “Mmmm” the moan left your lips easily, flooding Astarion’s ears with pleasure. “You alright my love?” He peaked up at you, and you nodded. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”

“Alright, my sweet. If you need me to stop, just say the word.” You nodded as he brought his tongue to your clitoris, circling around it in a perfect spiral, suckling on it whilst savoring the taste of your sweetness. “Mmmm” you whimpered, which made Astarion’s instincts nearly feral in nature. He brought a hand to play inside of your heat, which was still rapturously wet for him. He started with one initially, and nearly moaned himself as he felt your walls clamp around just one finger. He began to imagine what it would be like to have your core wrapped around his throbbing member. Even though he had released it from his undergarments, he was still desperate from the friction only you could provide him with, the only thing that could give him relief. But right now wasn’t about him. It was very much about you, and him providing pleasure for you.

As if you could read his mind, you used his hair to pull him away from you. “Astarion, please, get inside me. Now.” You demanded. “Although you are in no position to make demands here, my sweet, I wholeheartedly agree with you.” “Yes, sir.” You agreed with him. In this particular position, Astarion was completely and utterly in control. And you think you liked it that way.

Astarion towered over you for a moment, analyzing every bit of your form. He let his eyes roam over your breasts, stomach, thighs, and then back to your slick core that ached for his entrance. And who was he to deny you such pleasure? He hovered over you once more, placing a quick yet compassionate kiss on your lips. His penis sat in between the folds of your labia, the member wettened from the contact. He grinded down ever so slightly, allowing pressure to be placed on your clitoris yet again. Then, with one swift movement, he slid back, and then within the muscular cavern of your vagina. “Fuck” you responded, you were ready for him, or so you thought. He was huge, and you weren’t sure the last time you had taken a lover. He held himself inside of you, his tip nestled against your cervix, waiting until he could proceed. “Gods darling, you’re so tight.” Astarion prompted. His pelvis pressed perfectly against yours, your thighs spread to make room for his shape.

Once your muscles had accommodated him, you looked up at him with dangerously innocent eyes and simply nodded. He took this as his sign to continue, sliding his length out of you slowly at first, and then pressing into you once again. “Mhhm” you moaned wantonly, writhing in delight. Astarion’s movements became more fluid, rocking his hips so that he moved in and out of you with ease.

You moaned over and over with his rhythm, and he pulled your legs over his shoulders, somehow enabling him to pound into you even deeper. Your core quenched around him, tightening around him even further. “Oh, sweetness. Can you take me inside of you?” He asked, and your response was a ferocious nod. “Please do” you whimpered. “Are you close, my love?” he asked, seemingly very concerned about you reaching climax together. “Mhmm love.” Astarion’s heart fluttered, knowing that you too, were close, and that the pet name he so loved throwing out could also be received.

After several more pumps inside of you, your muscles began to convulse, writhing around Astarion’s member, holding him more tightly than before. Your shaking released Astarion’s own pleasure, and he flooded your cavern with ropes of cum as you finished together. You moaned wantonly.

Astarion pulled out, allowing his fluids to begin dripping out of you. He placed a swift peck on your lips, then sliding next to you on the towel. “Gods, Astarion, that was phenomenal.”  You spoke as you were finally able to catch your breath. You turned to face him. He placed a hand on your cheek, using his thumb to rub gently. “Thank you darling. That was… amazing.” His crimson eyes stared into yours, analyzing every breath, every possible thought going through that beautiful mind of yours.

“Tell me, what’s on your mind, my sweet?” Astarion inquired softly. Even though the intimacy you two had shared was incredible, he was still scared of the feelings – or lack thereof – that you may harbor for him. “Gods, I just- I didn’t think that would ever happen.” Astarion looked at you with a puzzled face, so you clarified, responding “I thought you hated me, and to be honest, I thought I hated you too, from how much we bickered.” “Ohhh, darling” Astarion sounded exasperated. “That’s what I call ‘repressed sexual tension.’” You smacked your face into your hands out of embarrassment. “I suppose you’re probably right” you mumbled. Astarion pulled you back upwards, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re just fine, my love.”

Your stomach rumbled, indicating to you that it would be desiring to eat soon. Astarion pulled you towards him, wrapping an arm around your bodice so as to keep you warm. That, and he knew that your time, for now, would be coming to an end soon. “Someone’s famished from battle today?” He asked, and you nodded. “I am quite much so, yes.” He savored himself in one final kiss on your lips. “Well darling, as much as I would love to lay here forever with you, I know you need nourishment to recover from today.” He winked.

“Yeah, yeah. One last thing before we go?” Astarion nodded, ushering you for your question. “What exactly are we?” You inquired. Your feelings were so jumbled you didn’t know what to think regarding the whole situation and where you were to stand with Astarion now. Was this just a once-off? What did he want from this? “Well, I had hoped that me marking you as mine would assert where I stand on the subject. I want you, in every sense of the word, my dear.” As he finished speaking, you had a giddy grin placed upon your mouth. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” You almost shrieked in excitement, but then decided to restrain yourself. You were adorable. Truly. “Will you come to my tent tonight, after everyone has fallen into slumber?” Astarion asked. “As much as I would love that, I’m really worn out from today, and I don’t know if I could-“ he cut you off “just for a cuddle, my love.” You nodded in response to this.

You began to rise, moving your hands around you, trying to find your clothing that was scattered by your towel. “Ass, where the hell are my clothes?” You turned to look at him, and he merely looked at you with a cheeky, blushed look on his face. “I can’t tell you it wasn’t me.” He winked. “Come on, please…” you begged. “They’re by mine, over by that rock over there.” He gestured to the rock that he had hidden behind. Astarion got up as well, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around your figures as you waltzed over to the rock and began to dress yourselves, Astarion taking extra time to admire you.

You walked back to camp, and Astarion shortly after. You didn’t want to make things so dreadfully obvious to your companions. The regular bickering commenced shortly after. But only you two knew what truly happened behind closed doors. Astarion finally had you, and that was like a dream to him. As he was unwinding for the night, and the stars had settled in the sky, he heard footsteps approaching his tent and your whisper, stating “Hey, love, I think everyone’s gone off to bed.” He eagerly approached the curtain, revealing your beauty behind it. “Come in, please, my darling.” Astarion was happier than he had been in 200 years, as long as he was with you.

[madwomansapologist]

blossoming alone over you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: it's 31st december. i'm drunk. song "pink on the night" by mitsky for wyll. song "working for the knife" by mitsky for astarion. song "abbey" by mitsky for shadowheart. companions (wyll, astarion, shadowheart) x druid!tav. background cast (karlach, kagha, halsin, lae'zel, gale, cazador). tav is used as a nickname. wyll stuttering. astarion seeing draws of himself because he fucking deserves it. shadowheart falling for a druid that can turn into a wolf.

Trust betrayed, secrets spread, lies disguised as facts. That's how life works. It gives you hope, then crushes it front of your eyes. It let's you reach your goal, just to rip it out from your bare fingers.

The cruelty of life is the ultimate sign that gods do exist. There must be a higher being watching its puppets pathetic attempts of conquering an unreachable happiness. There are other proofs, but that's the easiest to perceive.

And they were used to it. From the renowed Blade of Frontiers to the pale elf hiding in the shadows: they all knew what to expect from life. Dishonest agreements, stolen hearts, the cold embrace of loss. Life is painful, so they shielded themselves from any harm.

But not you.

At first they assumed you were naive. The things Shadowheart thought to herself when you reached for a hand stuck in a portal; or how easily Astarion deceived you when he thought you were a mind flayer; even Wyll judged you from time to time.

You let your guard down easily. Instead of protecting yourself, you were helping others. Instead of using your teeths and claws to get what you wanted, you preserved nature.

But naive you were not. You may have trusted them too easily, but you weren't blind. You knew when a question was a order, when a joke was a threat, when a smile was just sharp teeth showing.

You discovered what Astarion really was and demanded he wouldn't maim anyone that didn't deserved it. You convinced Wyll that the evil he so wanted to tear apart was a victim. Saw right throught Kagha's distorted teachings, don't matter how alluring they sounded.

To turn a foe into a friend was your instinct, but you were not hesitant to solve problems with violence if it was needed. And sometimes you even got pleasure from it.

Wyll will never forget your face after finding out about Kagua's deal with the shadow druids. You didn't even allowed the party to rest. All your party received from you was an order to clean the ivy from their weapons.

"Shouldn't we focus on freeing Halsin? He must understand Kagha better than us," Wyll pointed. "You're a druid, but that doesn't mean the groove sees you as one of them. But they will hear Halsin."

"She can hear me," you slammed your staff on the ground, giving strength to your certainty. It pulsed with energy, and its glow matched the beat of your heart. "Or she can die. I can grant her mercy, but I won't give her time."

Wyll felt his body getting warmer, Shadowheart's impressed whistle reached his ear. "O-Of course," he cleared his throat. "After you."

"We'll purge some rats," you smirked at him. It didn't feel threatening. "Can I count with your blade?"

"Always," Wyll answered you, staring at your back. He could stare at your back all day. And he meant it.

Seeing that you weren't naive, Astarion came to a conclusion about you. Meanwhile the Blade of Frontiers stopped seeing your benevolent acts as a signs of impulsivity, the pale elf saw them as a mask. Something meant to cover what others should be paying attention to instead.

After all, who would suspect that something is rotten when the scent is sweet?

You're beautiful. Astarion admit it. Your laugh reverberates through the forests, your tiredness calls for aid, your eyes attract and soothe. Beautiful faces can make up for dirty minds, soft words can hide the lack of a heart, pretty acts are easier to see than destructive intentions.

You're just like him. Astarion sees it, clear as the sea. Your delicate smiles and his gaze full of lust are just as fake. Your sweet words and his dirty innuendos are both rehearsed. In need of this party, it's not hard to understand why you two would act to ensure they don't ever leave.

When Shadowheart cures you first, Astarion's invisible reflection occupies your eyes. When Lae'zel attacks monsters aiming at you, he's your shadow. When Gale puts more food on your plate, Astarion can see his smile on your face.

He wouldn't be surprised to find out that you both look the same.

One may say that your corrupt intentions are nothing compared to the good you've already done, but Astarion is not so idealistic. Sin stains your good deeds, he can see it. You depict yourself as someone better than them, better than him, but that's just your depraved plan to survive.

And he can't blame you. It's working perfectly.

Astarion may despise you for being as dirty as himself, but he respects that part of you. He trusts your plans, your combat skill, your magic. You're good on what you do. Screaming instructions to help during fights, discovering hidden passages, trading for better weapons.

You're not a good person, but there's a reason for why you survived this far. You're competent. That Astarion can respect. That's why he's constantly trying to get on your good side. You are smart and strong. Maybe strong enough to rip Cazador apart.

And if you haven't realize that Astarion is putting on an act to win your heart, than the shame is on you for not realizing that you both are the exactly same thing.

But you had to show him how wrong he was.

At midnight you approached his tent with your sketchbook. Astarion thought you wanted a distraction, using your drawings just as an excuse to talk a bit. Gods know he was dying of boredom before you appeared.

"I didn't knew you were so talented, darling," he praised you.

Illuminated by candles, Astarion let his guards down. Instead of just saying the right thing at the time, Astarion was really impressed at your skills.

It must be nice. To be able to create things with your bare hands. Sometimes he cry at the start of a good book. He don't know why, but it must be because he too would like to be making things. Astarion thinks that creating is the ultimate sign that you're alive, instead of just surviving.

Maybe one day he can become a poet.

"I can't help but notice that you have a muse," it was clear someone had attracted your gaze. Maybe a dear friend you miss, or perhaps another competitor for your attention. "Should I worry about being replaced?"

Astarion expect you to flush, but all you did was to get... softer? You seemed to shrivel up.

Your mouth dried up. He doesn't even recognize himself. Astarion don't even remember how he looked like.

"That's you, Astarion," you told him. "And that's a gift. You helped a lot these past months and... All I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful."

It was the first time you saw Astarion in silence. Paper by paper, he admired your drawings. Do they look bad? You've spent a lot of time training to be able to create something worthy of his beauty, but you admit they're not perfect.

Or maybe it isn't the quality. It's the fact that you spend so long drawing him. How many hours did you spend on those sketchs? How many hours did you spend glaring at him from your tent? Does he feel ofended? Invaded?

"That's how you see me?" Astarion whispered.

You barely heard his words.

"Yes, Astarion," you licked your lips. "I know some can be..."

His hand on your thigh stopped the rant you were about to go on. His bloody eyes were sharp. Just like the day you first met him, his dagger against your throat. Astarion looked pleased, but not happy.

As if he discovered being right about something he rather not be.

What you gave him... this is a treasure. So many drawings, so many angles, so many poses. How many centuries has it been since he last saw himself? How many since Astarion forgot his own face? Sometimes he touches his face, trying to picture it, but his imagination isn't good.

You gave him something priceless.

And when something is priceless that people discover how sunk in debt they really are.

"And now you want me to pay you back," his husky voice made shivers went down your spine. His nails scratched lightly your skin, drawing shapes on your thigh. "Don't you?"

You jumped from your spot, getting away from him. You were flushed, but not in a good way. "From where I came from," you breathed in. You sounded offended. "Something that puts you in debt isn't a gift."

As you turned over to go to sleep, you felt that if you didn't say what you really thought you would end up exploding. You know you don't have the right to speak about his life, but that didn't stopped you.

"Cazador made you believe that you have to sell yourself to be worth of anything, but he's wrong. He was wrong since the very start. We'll lacerate that monster for what he did to you. And that I promise you: it won't be fair. Cazador don't deserve fair."

You felt your nails digging the skin of your palms. "That was a gift. Get used to it."

Maybe Astarion was wrong about you. And maybe he was wrong about himself.

Merciful, but not weak. Gentle, but not naive. Pleasing, but not manipulable. You were a walking question mark. Whenever they thought they understood what you were, you proved them wrong. Not impulsive. Not manipulative. Not stupid.

Until they came up with a word that described you too perfectly. A word that didn't need any buts or explanations. One that everyone cognize, but that isn't used often. That don't deserve to be used often.

You're kind.

It's in your nature to be considerate. You help others because you can. No. Wrong. And that's something that Shadowheart still don't really understand: you help others because you can, so therefore you should.

She has only one goal in mind. Shadowheart needs to make to Baldur's Gate with the mysterious artifact in safety, and if she does everything right... maybe her Lady will grant her what she truly want.

But you make Shadowheart forget about all that.

She must be discreet, she did that her whole life, and still Shadowheart finds herself talking about her goddess to you. Her mission depends on her going straight towards Baldur's Gate yet there she's, following you as you try to solve everyone's problems.

Shadowheart didn't even noticed. She didn't made a rational choice to open herself to you. She just did it. Almost as if you were fundamental part of her forgotten past and her heart couldn't do nothing but to trust you.

You impervious into her prayers. Invaded her dreams. Burned your mark inside her mind. Your name feels like honey on her tongue. Like a sweet treat that she can never get enough of.

You tempted her, luring her with your determination and grace, and Shadowheart proved herself sinful once again.

If only you had judged Shadowheart for her loyalty to Lady Shar. Asking her what her favorite flower is. Listening to her opinions. Even when she was nothing but distant and cold, you were sweet. Toothaching sweet.

Shadowheart was hungry. She'd been hungry for her whole life. Starving for something easy. Something raw. Something more than a beautiful concepts. Something real. And how could a starving person ignore a banquet?

She can't. Shadowheart couldn't. But she should've. Damn, she should've.

You're testing her faith. Constantly. Every smile, every vulnerable look, every act of protection. It's like you're trying to compete with Lady Shar for the control over her mind. Sometimes it feels like you're winning.

She was admiring the sky without stars when the wolf came. All it took was a sight to paralyze her. Shadowheart had a mace, but the weapon was useless in her trembling hands.

The giant beast, wool pale from the moonlight, foamy drool dripping from its fangs. In a golden glow that being of darkness transformed into something.

Into you.

"It's just me," you whispered to her, eyes wide with worry and blame. "I didn't... You're safe. You're fine."

She forced herself to unclench her jaw. "Don't tell any of them," Shadowheart hissed as soon as she knew she could speak without stuttering. "Let this fear I have stay as a secret."

"As you wish," was what you said. No questions, no jokes, no provocations.

You went back to rummage through lost boxes and barrels in the ruined village. You had goblin's blood staining your face, but it didn't seen to bother you. "I wish I had a bag of holdings," you murmured to yourself.

Shadowheart was grateful. Either you decided to change the subject to cease her embarrassment or you just were this easily distracted, it still meant something. Her flushed cheeks went unnoticed.

She leafed through some damp books, trying to find something useful. "Embrace loss," she murmured to you. Now your attention was back on her. "We'll never let you have one."

You gasped. "Moon, why is that?"

Shadowheart ignored how breath turned into a difficult task when you used that new nickname.

"Face it, Tav," she called you by the nickname Gale created to you. "You are a compulsive hoarder. I've seen you keep a rotten apple in your pocket."

"I thought it could be useful!"

Shadowheart smiled. She did not even realized she was smiling. "I bet you did."

You have a soft spots for battles you can't possible win, protecting people in need and turning foes into friends. And apparently you are their soft spot.

Part 2!

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[imperator-titus]

Favorite Party Banter [Minthara Edition]

[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]

I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.

Either Minthara is the main speaker/subject or I think Minthara's reaction is good shit.

Not in any particular order.

[PB_Minthara_Shadowheart_ROM_Act3_002]

Minthara: I cannot tell if you are more a deviant or a debutante, Shadowheart.

Minthara: I would like to test both aspects of your character when next you find yourself alone at night.

Shadowheart: I’m not quite sure I like where this is going.

[PB_Karlach_Minthara_ROM_Act3_001]

Karlach: It’s funny seeing you so smitten, Minthara. Didn’t think you were able. {Devnote: With concern}

Minthara: I took my first lover before you were a spark in your father’s eye, child.

Karlach: Go on.

Minthara: She was a high priestess of House Vandree. Beautiful, elegant, ruthless. {Devnote: friendly rather than flirtatious}

Minthara: I adored her, and had been sharing her bed for some time when the order came that she must die.

Minthara: I stayed with her while the poison did its work, and whispered words of comfort as she slipped away.

Karlach: Oh no. {Devnote: quiet, shocked, just heard a very sad story}

[PB_Gale_Minthara_ROM_Act3]

Gale: I found an empty bottle of venom in camp, Minthara. Safe to assume it was yours?

Minthara: Indeed. I have been dosing my partner while they sleep by my side.

Minthara: They refuse to take it in their food, but I must build up their immunity in case we ever visit Menzoberranzan together.

Gale: Let’s never speak of this again.

[PB_Astarion_Minthara_ROM_Act2]

Astarion: So how does Lolth feel about romance? Are you expected to bite your mate's head off afterwards?

Minthara: Be grateful I no longer follow the Spider Queen's teachings. If I did, you would be the first to fall into my web. {Devnote: Teasing Astarion with a grotesquely exaggerated version of how she would seduce him}

Astarion: I can't tell if you're joking. She is joking, right? {Devnote: first phrase to Minthara, then appealing to the party at large for support}

[PB_Laezel_Minthara_Act2_ROM_001]

Lae'zel: Our leader is a fool for love, Minthara. I'd never be compelled to conduct such a poorly-planned jailbreak.

Minthara: They did not do it for love. They did it for my prowess in combat, as well as coitus. I excel in both.

Lae'zel: As do I. Sometimes the acts are not dissimilar.

[PB_Gale_Minthara_ROM_Act2]

Gale: I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather heartless.

Minthara: Loving another is not soft, wizard. It is one of the hardest things a person can do.

Gale: So you admit you've found love! How delightful - I'm happy for you both.

[junowritings]

Could I request pre-romanced but interested Astarion (spawn), Gale, Halsin, and Rolan each reacting to Tav, in a moment of desperation, transforming into a silver dragon to save him from death. The kicker? Tav did not remember that they were a true dragon due to the tadpole wrecking their memory and is just as caught off guard by this revelation as he is.

Oh now this was too much fun to write! I ended up trying to generate a different scenario for each of them bc it was fun to imagine the context for each of them! :D

Astarion

♡ What a foolish thing; to let your guard down. Astarion knows better than most that nothing good would come of doing something so utterly stupid, no matter how safe. And yet he makes that very same pitfall after a battle with gnolls goes awry. Most of the beasts had been knocked off the nearby cliff-face, an underhanded tactic but he knew well to make use of the terrain even at the cost of any worthwhile loot. The rest had been picked off easily, and when Astarion buries his dagger into the gnoll prone beneath him the tension in the air finally seems to ease - the battle is over, for now.

♡ He’s still picking bits of viscera from his clothes, bemoaning the effort it’s going to take to pluck the gore from the decals when he spots you across the battlefield. You’re helping Karlach pry her axe free from getting a bit too gung-ho on an enemy’s skull, and he watches your face scrunch up from the effort with a snort. You catch his gaze when you look up, returning his fanged grin with an unamused huff of your own. It’s a sweet sight, even marred by blood and dirt, and Astarion makes a move to rise to his feet intending to amble over and watch you either succeed or count the axe as a loss. That was the plan-

♡ Until the carcass beneath him lurches, a screaming mass that in its death rattle bowls them both straight over the edge. And in the blink of an eye he’s in freefall, barely catching the look of horror on your face before he slips from sight.

♡ It’s nowhere near as graceful as the tales make believe. The wind bites at Astarion’s face and whips around him hard enough that his ears ring as hands try to grapple for purchase against the wall of the cliff. Nothing catches, only grabbing fistfuls of dirt and catching on rocks that crumble away beneath his fingers. No, no, no this was not how he was going to die; but there’s nothing to hold, nothing to see but the vast expanse of sky above his head as though taunting his very fate-

♡ And something else. Something large and scaled and burning silver as wings fan out enough to block out the sun as it appears practically out of thin air.

♡ A dragon. As if things couldn’t get worse?! Astarion’s cursing just about every force in the universe that he can think of as the beast plummets to close the distance. It’s there in seconds, a rippling wave of silver that swelters the very air as a taloned hand shoots out and catches him around the midsection. He expects to be eaten, maybe plucked to pieces right there and then; instead the dragon’s body rolls mid flight, curling close around the vampire spawn like a protective shield as the ground rushes to meet them. 

♡ The landing isn’t gentle, having been too close to the ground to take flight. Both hit the earth but it isn’t the fatal fall it could have been. At one point he slips from the dragon’s talons, and by the time he’s wormed his way free he’s marred by dirt and spitting leaves alongside the plethora of curses in his vocabulary. But he’s alive.

♡ He certainly wasn’t complaining about that, but his head is still spinning with the ‘why’ of it all - where had that beast come from? Why  hadn’t it killed him when it had the chance? He’s already looking for his dagger that had been lost in the fall as he scrambles to his feet, whipping around to face the dragon as he hears it stir. But he doesn’t find it. No, instead he finds-

♡ You. The last of the draconic visage crumbles like burned parchment, and you slump to your knees in the gouge your previous form had carved into the earth. Your hands tremble as you bring them up to your face, inspecting them like you’re checking that they’re truly there before your head shoots up to look at the vampire spawn you’d just saved. There’s a wild look in your eyes, confusion evident as you mirror his own slack jawed expression and trip over yourself to get back onto your feet with a scream of “What was that?!”

♡ At first he doesn’t believe your pleas of ignorance, and doesn’t get why you’re trying to protest so hard that you didn’t know. It’s not as though he hasn’t kept secrets from the group before - it’s not as though he willingly shared he was a spawn holding hands around the campfire like a jolly old fellow, did he? He’s not going to fault you for keeping your secrets so long as it’s not getting him killed. 

♡ But then he catches you pacing later that night back at camp, muttering to yourself of how you could forget and mulling over what else you’d lost with the tadpole. That kind of panic isn’t easy to fake, and you aren’t even aware of the audience to fake it. Has that tadpole altered your memories that thoroughly? A disturbing thought.

♡ Of course he’ll be the first person to encourage you to use this ‘new’ form of yours to your advantage - why wouldn’t you? It’s not everyday that someone finds out that they can turn into a hulking magical creature at the drop of a hat, so why not make the most of it? Not to mention it will be excellent for both combat and persuading anyone who makes the mistake of thinking that you’re easy prey.

♡ Of course that brings the whole other question of - why the hells did you jump after him?! Did you think your little friend in the artifact would somehow save the two of you again?! You hadn't even hesitated to reach for him; to protect him…Astarion doesn’t know whether to throttle you over your own self sacrificing logic, or kiss your damned face until any thought of risking your life like that again goes out of the window.

♡ Perhaps he’ll do both - he hasn’t decided yet.

♡ Plus, he’ll never admit it, but the camp feels a little safer knowing that it’s got a fire breathing, flying scaled powerhouse for a leader - might move his tent just a little closer to your own after that realization. 

Gale

♡ Wizards and close combat rarely mix well together. It has been somewhat of a running gag between the pair of you since the first tussle back at the grove when he nearly went sailing off the rocks he’d been casting from when a sword got far too close to his flank for his liking. You’d been there to save him, of course, biting back a teasing comment on his ‘graceful trip’ and trying not to chuckle as you’d helped the man back to his feet when it was all over. Gale naturally had been just as quick to remind you that even with his lack of tact for fisticuffs he was just as capable at keeping you as safe as you kept him. As he’d proved with a well timed magic missile not even one fight later,.

♡ The understanding was mutual - he’d protect you with all of the magic at his disposal, and you would do what you can to shield him on the battlefront. As you got closer, and the wizard got the opportunity to know you better, that protection evolved to something deeper. Something more than just having one another’s back out of necessity; the thought of any harm coming to you in the first place had been a sour notion, but now it was downright unthinkable. You took every blow meant for him without hesitation; pushed back any blade or arrow meant for him even if it led to adding a few more scars to your repertoire. And gods if you didn’t look absolutely stunning doing it.

♡ This time is no different. The sounds of battle ring in his ears, the clashing of weapons striking drowned out only by the roars of a group thrust into combat. Considering just how many unique faces make up their party (with a githyanki warrior, a renowned hero of the coast, and an excitable yet combustible tiefling - to name a few) Gale is surprised that bandits would even try their luck against this gaggle of adventurers. But where your group has skill, theirs has numbers, and this fight has been going on long enough that everyone is exhausted, frayed and running out of steam.

♡ He watches you on the other side of the battlefield, weapon clutched tightly in clenched fists and eyes burning with the fire of combat as you call out to your companions. You’re trying to pinpoint everyone's locations, caught up in the fighting as your weapon comes down on a bandit’s head. Multiple voices call out to you and Gale opens his mouth to join them, the air around crackling as he rears back to cast another spell. But the words barely get past his lips before he feels a solid blow to the back of the head and for just a second his world goes white. There’s a kick to his back and the world topples before he hands on him. 

♡There is a fist wrapped up in his hair and a blade so close to his gut to breathe is a risk. One of the bandits - how had they gotten so close without him noticing? Had he gotten complacent thinking he was safe from his vantage point? A knee digs into him and the wheeze he lets out is pained as he attempts to throw the bandit off. But Gale’s not a fighter, and it’s getting harder to think straight when another hard yank knocks his head against the ground with a harsh crack. Magic pulses at his fingertips as they rake up dirt, the words forming in his mouth hoping to get them out before that blade decides to get familiar with his insides. If only he could just-

♡ What comes next happens suddenly. A rush of air, an unrelenting wave of heat and the weight suffocating him is gone. The bandit’s body is hoisted up in a cushing jaw, only able to get out little more than a scream before they’re essentially ragdolled across the field. The threat of an imminent gutting is gone, but Gale finds himself unable to breathe once again as he realizes what exactly has descended upon him.

♡ Multiple times his size with several layers of thick silver hide, and adorned with thick leathery wings, a dragon prowls overhead. Slitted eyes scan across the battlefield, taking in the carnage and what remains of the stragglers that Gale’s companions haven’t taken down with a surprisingly clarity. It’s…looking for something? No, someone - your companions. He watches the creatures head tilt, letting out something akin to a billowing rumble before setting its sights back on the wizard still very much pinned beneath it. 

♡ The dragon’s head leans down, a huff of air feeling sweltering against his face as he comes face to snout with the creature that could easily turn him into wizard-chow with but a bite of that wall of teeth in its maw. But it doesn’t; instead it lets out another huff and there’s a ripple that seems to shake every single scale on its body before it’s shifting. It shrinks, morphs, changes into someone all too familiar as you drop down to your knees. Poor Gale almost gets a limb to the gut again as you slump down beside him, shaking off some sort of daze as you come back to your senses. It’s you - that dragon was you?

♡Gale doesn’t realize he’s shouting till he hears your own voice shouting along with him just as confused and panicked. Surely the pair of you must look like fools, unable to get out any kind of coherent word as your brains catch up to. You end up having to cover his mouth with your hand so that there’s enough quiet to actually process what has just happened, but Gale doesn’t miss how utterly lost you look about the whole ordeal - clearly this is as much news to you as it is to him.

♡ Once things have calmed down (and he’s checked to make sure he didn’t infact get punctured by a stray talon on the way down) Gale is absolutely fascinated. Nothing short of a kid in a candy store, this man is enthralled by the implications of your transformation. He knows you’re shaken of course, and he gives you time to do whatever you need to to ground yourself before he thinks to act upon any of his burning questions. He hopes to shed some light on things by working through these questions with you, hoping that they’ll spark some recollection you couldn’t remember before. 

♡ He’s tactful, tries to be subtle but you can tell that he’s clearly excited to learn about the origins of this ability. Is it related to your bloodline? Or were you perhaps cursed? Could this be some kind of advanced wildshape unbefore discovered? It doesn’t hurt you, does it? The last question gives the wizard pause, and he can’t quite relax till you assure him that the process doesn’t cause you pain.

♡ Depending on if your memories came back after your first transformation, you’ll only be able to give him so many answers. Feel free to practice your abilities around him though. At first he keeps a safe, out of the line of fire-distance, but it doesn’t take long before he inches closer until he’s close enough to run a hand along your flank if you allow him. There is an almost reverent touch alongside his curiosity as he marvels at the sight of you - breathtaking, is the only word he can find to describe it as you extend a wing for him to examine. 

Halsin

♡ Halsin has lived long enough to see many beings, experience many things. But he’s not fool enough to simply assume that he’s seen all that this world has to offer. There are still plenty of things to discover, many days and events he has yet to live amongst these new companions that have stumbled their way into the druid’s life.

♡Every moment with you has been a shining example of that fact - from the tadpole in your skull that you somehow manage to resist with each passing day, to the very way you approach the world around you. You somehow always managed to leave Halsin guessing, trying to wrap his head around the impossibility of you - regardless of you background, regardless of your creed or the life you lived before the tadpole, you remained a walking anomaly. Once which kept him on his toes, wondering what facet of you that you would reveal to him next.

♡ Of course he had done the same for you - you’d just about knocked your whole team over when he’d transformed after you’d first rescued the druid; recalled to you events and moments in his life that had anyone else told you, you would have called bullshit. It was a mutual exchange - you were open to him, and so he would do the same for you. He trusted you after all, and hoped you felt the same for him.

♡ That trust extended to the battlefield as well. Halsin’s desire to protect extended to the entirety of your party, naturally, but you were under a watchful eye with this man. Your penchant for the disregard of your own safety left much to be desired in the ways of keeping you safe; the needs of others or obtaining what you want often put above your own safety in the throes of a fight. Your habits of getting into trouble were something he grows far used to by now, so Halsin willingly takes the mantle of your protector, if only to save you from all of the scratches and scars that you’ll no doubt earn yourself down the road with your current mindset.

♡ Such as now. Within a wildshape, Halsin acts as a defensive shield for the other companions in a fight against a stray goblin raiding party. The leftover dregs of the ones from back at the temple that were set on hunting the party down long after the fall of the cultist once housed there. Teeth and claws rip and tear into goblin flesh and bone with ease, the bear acting as an utter powerhouse shrugging off each and every hit as though he was being poked with sticks and not swords. Things look to be over swiftly, as alongside the attacks of yourself and your other companions the goblin’s ranks are quickly dwindling - having either been felled by your defense or fled once they realize it was not a fight so easily won. With luck, you’ll all be back at camp before sundown.

♡ It is you who warns him that that’s not the case. He hears your voice, hears your scream of his name and Halsin cranes his head in an attempt to seek you out worried that something had happened to you when he wasn’t looking.

♡ But then a blinding light bursts against his side and he roars, loud and anguished at the sudden pain that washes over - some kind of explosive, brutal and all too effective against the druid. It’s enough for him to drop, barely still clinging to his wildshaped form as he braces against the earth in a bid to get back to his feet. What’s left of the goblins swarm, threatening to overwhelm him in his vulnerability and Halsin prepares himself for the approaching onslaught that closes in on him.

♡ Then something slams overhead, the squeals and cries of the goblins drowned out by a blinding roar that rings in the air like a toll as something impossibly large lands above Halsin and the goblins barricading them from their assault behind the wall of its body. A thick sweltering heat takes over, emanating from scales that glint like fine silver as the large body of a dragon settles overhead, and the area around them becomes alive with noise and chaos in its wake. 

♡ The very ground trembles under thick clawed footfalls - the trees groaning barely avoiding the wrath of this dragon as it rises to its full height and lunges for the attackers. The goblins never stand a chance - whichever ones weren’t smart enough to scarper before are taken out with little more than a snap of jaws and the swipe of a tail. Large claws break into the earth below, digging deep as though to ensure the dragon doesn’t move an inch from the druid’s side even as the last of the goblins are reduced to shreds. 

♡ When it is all over the creature visibly loses its hostility as it rounds once again upon Halsin. A firm nudge to his side, as gentle as a beast of this size can be and Halsin manages to push himself back to his feet, shedding the form of his barely clinging wildshape as exhaustion settles heavily upon his shoulders. By this point he knows that it means no harm, head pressed to his side until he’s firm in his stance before slinking away and circling around the druid as though appraising, checking for more damage. When none is found there’s a twitch, a shift in its tail that works its way up to its skull as though its very being is unraveling before Halsin’s eyes - and that’s exactly what happens.

♡ Scales and talons shift and rend, giving way to familiar flesh and a face the druid has all but committed to memory. This time he is the one to offer support, large hands coming up to brace upon your shoulders as you stumble over yourself looking about with a bewildered expression. “That was…what did I…?” Your words are met with a gentle assurance that that can be tackled in due time - it’s better to tackle those questions with a clearer head after nursing your injuries. And he’ll be right there will you, even guiding you back to camp till you practically insist that you’ll be fine on your own.

♡ Halsin has heard of many species and many abilities, but nothing that’s quite like a dragon shifter. At least, not one like you seem to be. You seem just as distraught by that knowledge, alongside the fact that this appears. Yet another thing that the tadpole has taken from you, if your belief to have had this ability before is true. It isn’t much different than using wildshape, as you learn once you talk through the experience with Halsin - what you were feeling before, what you were thinking. You admit that the only thing on your mind had been protecting him when you’d turned, horrified at the sight of him hurt and just out of your reach to save. The look of momentary surprise on Halsin’s face melts into something far softer at the revelation, a gentle praise at your own thoughtfulness to protect others that may leave you feeling bashful.

♡ Halsin actively encourages you to shift whenever you feel the desire to do so. Learn more about this form and what it means to you; refamiliarize yourself with a part of you that you’ve been separated from for such a time. He’ll talk you through it should you express any need for support, but he knows that you’re more than capable of controlling this aspect of yourself just as you have before. Of course he’ll also be admiring you the whole time, nothing but honest praise about the power of your form and the beauty of this other part of you.

Rolan

♡ It was a mistake to have ever come to the shadowlands - now Rolan is losing everything. Cal, Lia, his very own life; all of it is going to be snuffed out by the oppressive darkness which has defiled every inch of this place, and he’s powerless to do anything to stop it. All he had wanted to do was to make a life for his family, to make Rolan a name that they and others could be proud of. But every good deed seemed to only make things worse in the end - hells had even that one act of kindness saving those damned kids been rewarded like this? Not even his attempt to save his siblings had worked and now he was facing perishing in a land where death was never kind, as though the world was giving him one final kick when he was down to remind him of his own shortcomings. 

♡ Shadows circle in, lured in by the dwindling embers of his torch which is the only thing barely keeping him alive in this forsaken wasteland. But that is not enough; they claw at the edges of his light, ripping and tearing at the hem of his robes and grasping for his ankles, hoping to get a foothold on the tiefling long enough to drag him off into the darkness to never be seen again. Panic unfurls in his gut, burning brighter than the useless glorified stick clenched between sharp nails as he wrenches himself free of their grasp and stumbles over himself trying in vain to make some distance.

♡ He’s got minutes at the most, moments at the least; and those creatures writhing in shadow and dark have the luxury of biding their time waiting out his final seconds. He’s going to die here - without ever seeing his siblings again. What had he ever done to deserve such a cruel ending?

♡ But it doesn’t end - at least, not here.

♡ A roar breaks through the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears, and every hair on the back of his neck stands up as a chill shoots down his spine like a shot of ice. What, had some worse creature come to finish him off? As if being torn to shreds within the shadowlands wasn’t bad enough, now he’s got to contend with something bigger. And gods, is it bigger. Even through the thick smog of the shadowlands it stands out like a beacon of silver, its very scales giving off a faint glow within the darkness as though the shadows themselves are reviled by its presence alone. A feeling sinks within the pit of his chest the moment that he realizes what manner of creature is stalking towards him.  A dragon - gods, why did it have to be a dragon?!

♡ The beast is huge, a rippling wall of impenetrable flesh that cuts through the space between them in little more than a few bounds. Wings stretch wide, an impressively intimidating display as taloned hands slam down on where the shadows persist. The shadows dissipate easily beneath its claws but their shriek in indignation warbles uselessly, clearly not expecting the sudden attack in their bid for new prey. What the shadows have in number the dragon compensates for in size, easily swiping down a handful before attempting to latch onto another with its sizable maw.

♡ Rolan can’t tell if it’s doing any damage, but whatever perceived slight this dragon has on the shadows Rolan isn’t going to question. The shadows have their attention turned to the beast; if he has any intention of making it out alive he reasons he needs to get out of here now. But that’s easier said than done when one wrong move could have him meeting the business end of a stray swipe or the lingering shadow taking the opportunity to pounce. He’s going nowhere - not while the fight persists.

♡ Eventually the shadows must decide that facing a dragon isn’t worth the trouble just for making the meal out of the tiefling, and no sooner had Rolan been surrounded, the shadowy figures slink back into the deepest recesses of the darkness. A wave of relief warms his bones at the realization that they’ve slithered back to whatever domain formed them - he’s alive.

♡ But then those slitted eyes land back on him, and Rolan decides his chances may have been better dealing with those shadows. His attempts to escape are thwarted, the dragon rounding on him in a manner far slower than the frantic thrashing of before. No, it’s watching him, and the tiefling is rendered frozen at the curious way it tilts its head as though it recognizes something familiar.. 

♡ Almost jumps out of his own skin when it nudges him, a quick bump of its head that almost knocks him flat. Rolan barks out a curse, but the winged creature insists on pushing him till he finally takes the hint and moves to where it’s clearly wanting him to go. Gods, this is unnerving and he doesn’t know what it wants until the nudging finally stops and he finds himself staring down at the lump of belongings haphazardly discarded at his feet. And he tenses. 

♡ This pack - that lantern - he knows who they belong to at a glance. And no sooner has he put the pieces together that there’s a ripple of energy, a shift in the very air as the dragon before him begins to change. It molds into something else, taking on a form far more familiar - the last face he’d thought to see, but perhaps the one he should have expected.

♡ You just about keel over, clutching your knees and shaking bad enough to match his own as you let out a wheeze. You’re not worse for wear aside from the general health risks of being out in a land so tainted by dark magic, but even as you dust yourself off and look over at Rolan, you once again leave him speechless with a quick quip of “So…that was new.”

♡New? NEW?! You mean you just suddenly discovered your shifting abilities, like some twisted epiphany?! The pair of you must be a right sight, huddled around the moon lantern with him slack jawed and you looking more confused than you have any right to be after that stunt. It’s too much to process, and he’s still reeling from the near death experience and everything that has happened in such a short amount of time. Doesn’t put up nearly as much of a fight as he would have in his right mind when you urge him to go back to the inn - you’re grateful for that, or he might have insisted on coming with you even more.

♡ He doesn’t get to grill you on your abilities until everyone is finally safe. Many are enjoying what little respite they can get before they move on to the next place away from here, and he catches you finishing up your own business at the inn hoping for answers before you leave. Like Astarion, he has doubts that you didn’t know. Really? Not even an inkling to the draconic blood in your veins or where it had come from. Tries not to be frustrated at the shrug you offer in response, having to remind himself that this is a new development for you - he’s not going to pry you with questions when you’re likely still struggling to wrap your head around the prospect yourself.

♡ Once Rolan realizes what had triggered your transformation he goes uncharacteristically quiet, staring hard at your face as though trying to gauge your bluff. When he finds none his voice breaks with his gratitude, hiding the shake behind a cleared throat as he breaks eye contact suddenly struggling to meet the sincerity in your gaze. That was…perhaps he needed to rethink what exactly that - he - meant to you another time; in a place where there’s not always life or death on the line.

[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions Found Crying

Back on my hurt/comfort shit again. Here’s Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira when they are caught crying by the reader.

There are spoilers for at least Act 2, but I don’t think there’s any for Act 3.

Shadowheart

You find her late one night, just outside of camp on her knees, clutching the idol of Shar you gifted her from Grymforge. She is crying softly, but her sniffles are audible as you approach.

You ease yourself down behind her, laying a gentle hand on her back in an effort not to scare her.

You are caught by surprise as she all but sends you tumbling backwards with how hard she throws her head into your chest. The simple initiation of contact created an immediate need for more.

You stroke her hair gently. She’s taken it down for the evening, allowing you to gently run your fingers through it. She only cries harder, body nearly heaving with the force.

“What have I done?” She sobs. “What have I done?” She repeats over and over again, muffled only by your body.

“You did the right thing,” you say in response, looking down at her as she drops the idol in favor of grabbing your shirt with both hands.

“So… what, I’ve been doing the wrong thing for-for as long as I can remember?” She stammered. “I’ve dedicated my whole life to-to the wrong thing?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you can’t find the words. There was no way to answer her both honestly and helpfully.

“Was I the bad guy? Am I the bad guy?” She asks weakly. “I wanted to fight the evil… but I think the evil might be… me.”

“No,” you say, gently grabbing her wrists and looking into her teary green eyes. “You are not the villain. You never were.”

She picks up the statue on the ground and throws it in to the surrounding forest with a scream of relief. She did not believe your words. Perhaps she never would. But with you by her side, she was sure she would be would be on the right path from now on.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel had dragged you away from supper earlier that evening to spar. You had both done this several times before, but something was off about tonight.

The way she swung her sword was entirely different. Her moves were frantic and lacked her typical calculation. It was the types of swings you’d expect to see from a strong but unskilled child.

On one swing in particular, she swung hard, but in the wrong direction, allowing you to parry the blow and throw her off balance. She stumbled in a nearby stone slab, using her hands to restabilize herself.

You approached her, stepping softly and reaching a hand out to lay on her shoulder. You could tell something was wrong, but you didn’t exactly know what.

Before you could reach her, she turned to make another swing. Even though she had the element of surprise, the strike was blind and unplanned. You easily side stepped her maneuver and she fell, dropping her sword and tumbling to her hands and knees.

“Lae’zel!” You shouted. “What’s going on?” You approached her again, more cautiously this time. She reached for her sword, but you kicked it away before she could reach it.

She looked up at you, defeated. Her war paint was smeared sloppily down her face. You tossed your own weapon aside and fell to ground in front of her.

“I feel frenzied,” she admits finally. “My feelings towards you. I feel- out of control. Like if I were to lose you… I don’t know what I would do. I do not think I could bear it.”

You take one of her hands into yours and reach out with the other to stroke her cheek. “Well then it’s a good thing you’re not gonna lose me.”

“But I cannot control it,” she explains frustratedly. “I cannot even control myself in the face of it.”

You smile a little bit, allowing her to press her face into your hand. “That’s love, my dear,” you explain softly. “It is unbridled happiness in the face of uncertainty. It is brilliant and it is terrifying. And we will do it together.”

She squeezes your hand, and covers your other hand with her own. Somehow, despite all the battles she charged into head first, loving you may be the bravest thing she’s ever done.

Karlach

You find her curled up in a ball behind Dammon’s forge at the Last Light Inn. Her arms and tail are wrapped around her legs, and her teary eyes are barely visible above her knees.

“Karlach?” You call out, holding your lantern out to better illuminate her. She tucks her head into her chest to avoid your gaze.

You set down the lantern and sit down next to her. As big as she is, she feels so small and delicate as you reach out to touch her.

“Love, what’s wrong?” You ask. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

“It’s not fair,” she cries, still not looking up at you. “It’s not fucking fair.”

You sigh. After Dammon’s news you had been waiting for Karlach to finally break. She had put on a strong face for the others. She was able to enjoy the most brilliant night with you, but her unrelenting optimism could only get her so far.

“I know love,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder. “I know.”

You both sit in silence for a moment before she finally lifts her head to look at you. “Can you at least promise me you’ll be there? I can’t bear the thought of… and doing it alone.”

The terrified look in her eyes and the way her bottom lip trembled made your heart break into a million pieces.

You kissed her on the forehead as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes. “Of course darling,” you promise. “I will be with you until the bitter end. There is nothing that could keep me from you.”

She adjusts her position and wraps her arms around you. Sobs violently tear through her body, and you felt tears pour down your cheeks.

“I don’t wanna leave. I want to be here with you forever,” she sobs. “I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anything.”

“I love you too, darling,” you say, tucking her head under your chin. Her broken horn allowed for a perfect fit.

You didn’t know how you’d ever cope with her loss, but you knew that you’d be at her side until the end of her days.

Minthara

Minthara kneels in front of an alter, hands clasped on top of the holy surface. Tears fall silently from her eyes. Until you saw their reflection under the moonlight, you couldn’t tell she was crying at all.

It has been a very long time since you’ve known to look for Minthara here. She has not much prayed since disavowing the Absolute. In fact, she seems rather repulsed by both her previous gods.

Her eyes were closed, and if she heard you approaching she made no indication of it. She knelt silently in the moonlight.

You sat on the ground behind her for a moment, waiting for her to finish and acknowledge your presence. You were certain she was aware of it despite the lack of acknowledgment.

In time, she fell back to sit on her feet, briefly swiping away the tears that escaped her eyes. Then she adjusted her position and laid back into you.

“I have not known you to pray in a very long time,” you point out, curiously but not judgmentally. It would not be disappointing if she had turned back to the gods, just surprising.

“There are certain things,” she explains, “I feel I must pray for. Even after I have stopped praying for anything else. Even after the gods stopped listening.”

You do not ask what she prayed about, she does not offer a follow up. She only twists the two of you around, allowing you to rest your back against the alter as she lays on your chest.

You attempt to wrap your arms around her, but she gently pushes them back to your side. Her gaze seems far away, but you do not dare ask what she is thinking about. She would tell you if she wanted you to know.

Tears start to roll down her cheeks again, but she does not sniffle or cough. Her body does not shake. She is silent. And you are silent.

You feel helpless, like nothing you could do would soothe her pain. Little do you know, your silent company is everything to her.

Jaheira

Jaheira has been alive for far too long to get embarrassed about something as trivial as crying. At least, that’s what she tells you. She has never cried in front of you or anyone else for a very long time.

So when you find her going through an old box of handwritten notes from her children that never reached her, you’re surprised by the tears that threaten to smear the ink on the pages.

When she hears you approaching she hastily wipes her face with her sleeve and pretends she was not crying. “Not embarrassed” your ass.

“What are you reading?” You ask, looking down at the sloppily written notes in her hands.

“It’s nothing… it’s just,” her hands shake as she hold the papers. “Notes from the children from when I was away. They… um… never reached me.” The note she was currently reading seemed to be from a much younger Rion.

“In all my dedication it’s easy to forget just how much got left behind,” she says, staring once again at the letter. “I don’t regret anything- it’s just- I gave up so much….” Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to fall again.

You rest your forehead against hers, holding her face in your hands. “You’re home now,” you whisper. “And as far as your children are concerned, they turned out to be wonderful little creatures even in your absence.”

There was a lot that could not be undone. There was a lot for Jaheira to grieve and be sorry for. But with Kethric Thorm now dead for good, the healing could commence.

[wilwheaton]

Do you play online games?

Whether it be like proper console gaming or basic games on your phone

I am so old, my formative experiences with video games were all single player. When multi-player online arrived, it was text-based MUDs (I helped run one, when 28.8 was fast) and that was all the social interaction I ever needed.

Put another way, I prefer my gaming to be quietly alone, or couch co-op with one of my kids. I have found every single online multiplayer gaming community to be so toxic and unwelcoming to new players, I honestly don't know how anyone can endure that shit to get to the good stuff, but like I said, I'm old.

For the last year or so, I've split my time among:

NHL 22 Create a Pro. Blaine Gretzky is in his 8th season of a game that was never intended to be an RPG, but EA vastly underestimated how far a weird nerd will go to make that happen.

Baldur's Gate 3. I'm in the final battle of my second play through because there is no such thing as too much Karlach. But I took a break because I loved the Fallout TV series, so...

Fallout 4 has been my jam for about a month. I loved New Vegas so much I have played all of it I think three times, plus I did all the DLC in a weekend awhile ago. But I never played 4, because I was playing RDR2 or something when it came out, and I never got around to it. I've been playing the hell out of it, and I'm completely obsessed. The world is so much bigger than I expected, and I love building, maintaining, and putting disco balls into all my settlements. I have no idea how far into the story I am, but every night something new and fun happens when I play.

And, finally, Stardew Valley. I am years late to the party, but I wanted something gentle, slow, and meditative for the change of pace from all those other things. I actually came to it because I wanted something like Animal Crossing that wasn't Nintendo-exclusive, and it was like 4 dollars on Steam. I think I have 40 or so hours in it. I'm about to start my first Fall season, and I fucking FINALLY caught a fish. I love how it forces you to pick one or two things to do each game day, so I'm like, "Well, we're clearing trees and rocks today, then I'll water the garden and go to sleep. Tomorrow, I'll take gifts into town." And so on. It shouldn't be as satisfying as it is, but it just works perfectly for me.

Thanks for asking. It's always fun for me to talk about stuff like this long after everyone has lost interest.