#whatever gale and i will hang out

[lucky-clover-gazette]

minthara is hitting on shadowheart i cannot believe that even in a video game i get this thoroughly rejected

[aerynwrites]

Lost For Words

Gale Dekarios x gn!Reader

A/N: for the anon that sent in this request - I hope you and everyone else enjoys! I had such a fun time writing this haha.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit), grinding, reader is a tease, gale is a flustered mess, suggestive talk, kissing, fluff at the beginning.

*I tried to keep this gender neutral, but please let me know if anything slipped through my editing!*

It’s not often you get any downtime, what with the parasite in your brain and all. 

But this evening has afforded you and your companions a rare but much needed free night. Most everyone has decided to spend the evening down in the tavern, drinking or gambling or whatever other pastimes happen down there. However, you and Gale have opted to stay upstairs, reveling in the unusual peace and quiet. 

Gale had been reading to you for a while, a fantasy book of some sort, but you’d excused yourself a few moments ago. Not because you were enjoying lounging in bed with him, but because a certain item in your bag has been calling to you since you received it. 

The Wavemother’s Robe. 

It has been a gift for getting ride of that machine that was polluting the bay waters, and you hadn’t really had a chance to look at it. 

But now, after you’ve retrieved it and stepped behind the dressing screen, you find that there isn’t really much to look at, at all. 

As you slip into the delicate yet butter-soft fabric, you can’t help but notice that it leaves very little to the imagination. So, in that sense, there is a lot to look at depending on who’s doing the looking. 

The neckline of the detailed collar of robe plummets down in a tragically deep neckline, the end reaching your navel. And the skirt of the robe is much the same, the slits in the sides coming up all the way to above your hip, leaving the fabric covering yourself hanging dangerously loose in the front and back. 

For half a second, you're tempted to rip the thing off and get rid of it. The whole outfit is somewhat absurd. 

But, despite your question about the functionality of such a garment, you can’t help but admire the beauty of it. The blue, scaled fabric sparkles in the dim candle light of the room, iridescent light bouncing off the walls whenever you turn. Even the small delicate chains at your hips and resting against your sternum twinkle gently. 

When you look in the floor-length mirror you can’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly. 

You look…good. If not a bit exposed. 

Without thinking much about it, you turn and come out from behind the screen, approaching Gale where he still sits on the bed reading. If he hears your approach he doesn’t acknowledge it, only flipping a page every so often as you watch him in silence, a small smile on your face. 

He’s sat propped up against the headboard, legs outstretched in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He cradles the book gentle in his hands atop his lap, eyes trailing over the page quickly as he consumes the story. 

You take a couple steps closer to the bed, now just an arms length away. 

He still doesn’t look up. 

“Gale…” you call in a soft sing-song voice. 

The wizard merely hums, inclining his head your way ever so slightly, but never takes his eyes from the page. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You huff, rolling your eyes as your smile tugs further at your lips. 

“I wanted your thoughts on my new clothes.” 

You watch as his brows furrow, his thumb sliding down the page to hold his place as he closes the book before slowly turning to look at you. 

“Your clothes-?”

His questioning is cut off with the audible clack of his teeth as his mouth slams shut, his eyes going wide as they finally take you in, trailing from your head to your toes before whipping back up again. 

He blushes. Actually blushes - his cheeks turning several shades darker as his eyes flit over your form once more before he’s back to looking at you all wide-eyed and scandalized. 

A shit eating grin overtakes your earlier soft smile as you take the last few steps to the edge of the bed, reaching out to pluck the book from his hands to toss it to the side. 

“So…what do you think?” you ask, voice dripping sweetness. 

“W-what do I-? I - ehm…it’s certainly - revealing-“

You drop your lips into a pout as you crawl onto the bed, your nose barely brushing his own as you swing a leg over his hips to settle on his lap. The robe pools between you, but the position causes the silken fabric to rise up your hips even further. One wrong move and even less would be left to the imagination. 

Something Gale must take notice of, as he instinctively reaches out to tug at the fabric on your hips, keeping it in place as his fingers dig into the flesh beneath it. 

“Do you not like it?” you ask, feigning disappointment as you reach down to toy with the chain running down your chest. “I thought it was pretty.” 

Gale clears his throat and shifts his hips, the evidence of just how much he likes it evident against your inner thigh. 

“N-No not at all I -“ He coughs, the blush reaching down to his chest now, making his orb mark stand out against the flushed skin. “I simply was not expecting…”

His words taper off as you begin to trail a finger over the mark on his chest, following the tendrils up over his collarbone and onto the sensitive skin of his neck, making his breath hitch. 

“Not expecting…what?” 

“Well - I was deeply entrenched in m-my reading and then you come out like t - that!” 

His last word pitches up when you grind your hips against his own, his fingers now digging into your hip bones. 

You lean in close, lips brushing his cheek as you speak. 

“Thats a very…lackluster description,” you pout. “Have I left the great Gale of Waterdeep lost for words? What happened to your supposed verbosity? And I remember something about a practiced tongue -“ 

Your teasing words are cut off sharply as Gale's arms wrap around your waist and he flips you both over on the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a soft this just as his lips claim yours, swallowing your gasp of surprise. 

He wastes no time, his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. 

Something you happily grant him. 

The kiss is eager, frenzied, leaving no room for the teasing banter you had established earlier.

His hands move to slide down over your bare thighs before hiking one of them up over his hip and holding it there as he presses his hips down into your own. 

Only when his hips meet your own in a desperate grind does he pull away from you, lips moving instead to trail kisses down your cheek and jaw. 

“If you had given me a moment to collect myself,” he chastises lightly. “I would have gathered my wits enough to tell you how magnificent you look.” 

“Ravishing.” He presses a kiss beneath your ear. “Captivating.” Another on the junction of your shoulder. 

“Absolutely sinful.” 

A sharp nip to your collarbone has you gasping, just as a calloused hand slides up the exposed expanse of your chest, fingers hooking beneath the delicate chains there. 

“So…” He trails off, his lips traveling down to where his hand lays and then lower, pressing lightly to where the deep plunge of your robe ends. 

“Since you were so impatient, I suppose I’ll just have to show you as well. To make up for my lack of…verbosity.” 

A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you can't stop the shiver of excitement that runs through as his hands slip beneath the fabric of the robe. 

Maybe you’ll keep the robe after all. 

[sserpente]

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello! i know there's a lot of jealous astarion x tav stuff out there, but could you do a jealous tav x astarion scenario please? maybe also make it spicy??

Astarion x jealous!reader

There were very few moments for all of you to relax and take a breath these days. With the quakes getting stronger, the cult getting closer, and just Gods knew what else around the corner, it was difficult to find some time to recharge. But, you all always seemed to eventually find the time.

Down at one of the taverns, you and the group decided to break loose and have some drinks for the night. Gale and Halsin didn’t want to come. Halsin still abstain from alcohol, along with his vague comments on ��past mishaps and making a fool of himself’ (which honestly just made it all the more intriguing), and Gale just wanting to turn in early for the night. With everything going on with Mystra recently, more and more he had been pulling back to think by himself, but assured you he would be himself again soon enough.

Karlach usually tagged along, but just wasn’t feeling crowds at the moment. It would be more strange for Laz’el to come. And Wyll had come for the start of the evening but left after one drink as he was a responsible young man.

All that was left was you, Shadowheart, and Astarion.

“This wine tastes like cat piss.”

“You’ve tasted cat piss?” You clip back. Wittier than usual now that you had a few drinks.

Astarion gave you a dull, “ha ha,” before he got up and headed for the bar to get a different vintner offering from the bar keep. “Maybe I’ll splurge a little a spend a whole 3 gold to get something a little better than the swill the rest of you are used to.”

“How people ever found him charming enough to be lured to their death will always be a mystery to me?” Shadowheart remarked before taking a sip of mead from her cup.

You chuckle at her joke and watch as Astarion made his way to the bar. Weaving in between the crowd like he was made more of mist & air, rather than flesh and blood.

Alone, you and Shadowheart chat quietly at your table before she finished her drink, dabbed her lips, and announced, “I’m going head back and turn in with the others. I trust that you and Astarion will make it back alright on your own?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well…I wouldn’t judge if the two of you wanted to spend sometime alone. We’re usually in such close quarters together that I’m sure it’s hard to be alone with someone special.” You blush at Shadowhearts comment. Not nearly as blunt as Laz’el but also not at all subtle. “Although, perhaps he has other plans for the evening?”

You follow her eyes over to the bar. Finding Astarion instantly, but also the pretty human girl hanging on his every word; and nearly him. Astarion, for his part, not seeming nearly as put off as someone in a relationship should be by her flirtation.

“I’ll take my leave now. I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever this is turning into. If it turns out for the good, be safe and have fun. If it turns out for the worse, well…try not to get us all arrested by morning.”

She gave a small way and saw herself out of the bar. Leaving you there with your thoughts, warm ale, and a stewing feeling of dread in your gut. You try to calm yourself. But you weren’t exactly the best at tamping down your impulsive thoughts. They had gotten you this far, hadn’t they? Perhaps they could take you a little further as you went up to the bar. “Shadowheart went home.”

Astarion and his new playmate both turn to you in surprise. The former looking genuinely surprised, while the woman looked more annoyed than surprised by your interruption. “Oh. Was she feeling alright? It’s rather early.”

“Yes! The night is still young.” The woman’s hand landed on his arm, and you glare daggers at the spot it landed. Wishing for real daggers. “But, if your friend isn’t feeling well, maybe you should go and check on her.”

She was trying to muscle you out. Eliminate the competition. As far as she knew Astarion wasn’t attached, or maybe she didn’t care, so your presence is an obstacle to her goal of claiming the handsome stranger. You had to admire her boldness. You don’t think you could ever be so confident to just ‘lay claim’ to a man you had only just met and make your stance known. If it had been anyone else she claimed you would have been impressed and supportive. Women helping women. Problem was this was your man and she was competition that needed to be eliminated.

“I think I’m going home too.” You pressed further.

“But I just ordered my wine.” Astarion quipped. Seeming not to get your hint at all. But the woman did.

“Yes. We’ve just freshened our drinks.” The vampire turned his gaze to the woman with a sharp arch of his brow. Clearly communicating ‘who is this ‘we’ you speak of’ with no words at all. “Why don’t you run after your friend and he’ll see you later. Perhaps tomorrow morning?”

“Oh….”

“I’m out of here.” You didn’t bother listening to whatever excuse, silken words, or outright lies Astarion was going to tell this hell cat to get out of the hole he just dug himself, but you weren’t interested in watching him dig.

Slamming your empty mug on the counter, you turn and head for the door. Everyone parting ways for you with the mood you were in. The cold air to your face was sobering, literally, and you shrug your shoulders in as you head down the dark streets towards the inn for the night. If you walked fast enough maybe you could actually catch Shadowheart on the way.

“[Y/N]! Wait!”

You turn to look over your shoulder as Astarion called your name. Coming out of the tavern with a skid and dashing over to meet the space between you. “Where are you going? Are you really going to leave?”

“Would you rather I sit there and watch that woman paw all over you?” You jab back. But Astarion didn’t seem wounded.

“Oh that. Yes. Rather forward for a lady wasn’t she?”

“So why didn’t you stop her??”

“I don’t know.” He replied with a shrug. “Old habits.”

You huff and pull your arms in tighter against the cold. Maybe you had been wrong in assuming that Astarion thought of ‘loyalty’ the same way you did. You trusted him with your life, but maybe you couldn’t trust him in a bar. You didn’t genuinely think that he would go off with her, but even the hint of implication made your blood boil. “I get they might be ‘old habits’ but if you could not flirt with people, I would appreciate it.”

A grin slithered up on Astarion’s face. “Are you…jealous, my love?”

“No!” You snap back quickly. But his grin just gets bigger.

“Hmm…I guess it’s understandable. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve started a cat fight in a bar, you know? I just never thought you of all people would be swayed by such petty emotions.”

“I’m going home.”

You turn your back on him again, which was the worst thing to do on a vampire, and you felt him snatch you before you were suddenly in a dark alley all alone together. “I get jealous too.” He told you. Almost like a whispered confession. Able to be quiet now that you were away from the crowd, and the streets, and the noise. “I get jealous seeing you with the others. The attention you give them. It should be for me.”

“They’re just friends.” You whisper back to Astarion. Feeling as if any louder and you’d break this spell between you in the moment. You didn’t know what kind of spell it was, but you were transfixed in it.

“I get jealous of all the strangers you want to help. Literally anyone who needs help, you help them. That big heart. Where will I be, if you keep opening it up to others?”

You gasp when you felt his hand drift over your ‘heart’. “I’ll always have space for you Astarion. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

“I get jealous of your bedroll.” His words caught you off guard. Almost as much as his teeth at your ear. “Curled up with you. Holding your body all night. Keeping you warm. It should be me.”

“You’ve never mentioned it.”

You can’t feel your breath come out in a little pant as you spoke. Enamored by Astarion and his weight against you and the wall. “We should…find some place private.”

“Here is private.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear his grin and it made your knees quiver. “Someone could see us.”

“No one will see us.” He assured you. “I’ve used this alley before.”

It was probably not the best time to bring up his past conquests when you had just had a conversation about jealousy. Or perhaps it was. Instead of feeling angry like earlier, you suddenly felt the incredible urge to erase every memory Astarion had of this alley, this place, those people, and fill him with only thoughts of you. That there were no other conquests until he claimed you.

Jealousy seemed quite the aphrodisiac. It might not have been the ‘privacy’ Shadowheart had mentioned when she made her comment. But it was fun. And no one got arrested.

[meanbossart]

Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?

Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V

There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.

Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.

I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:

While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.

When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:

If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:

"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."

You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.

He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.

If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.

If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.

[saintsandsorcery]

As much as I love the idea of Gale being wanted when he was still The Wizard Of Waterdeep, I do believe he was a second choice in a sense. Sometimes the person he thought he loved, or at least liked, wasn’t really interested in him at all - it was what he could do for them, magic, money, you name it. He figures out that they simply settled for this idea of him, but never really cared to look deeper and figure out who the “real Gale” even is. So he learns to hide away all the parts of him that aren’t perfect - he talks too much, fine, he’ll talk less. Some of those “secrets” do resurface when he meets Tav and the other companions. It’s been a while since he has last spoken to anyone, of course the walls aren’t perfectly intact anymore, of course he will talk about whatever to whoever is willing to listen. It takes a while for him to notice the way Tav seems to hang onto his every word, their smile their frequent questions, the way they assure him he isn’t annoying at all. This small thing brings out the parts that he’s still hiding away: the insecurity, the fear, the ambition – but most importantly, his feelings for Tav.

[moonselune]

Telling the men that your pregnant!! I absolutely adore pregnancy tropes. I just Know that Wyll would be such a sweet father. Son would Halsin and Gale!! Ugh, I love them. Actually, if you could, probably also Minthara somehow? Only if you want. Have a good day <3!

Hey hey so I have actually done this request here but I will add Minthara and Raphael x Because if we can have dragons we can have w/w pregnancies xoxo

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The flickering glow of the campfire cast long shadows across the forest clearing as you sat beside Minthara, the night quiet except for the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures. The air was cool, and the two of you were wrapped in each other's warmth, the world around you seeming to disappear as you shared this rare moment of peace.

Minthara’s strong arms were wrapped around you, her touch as familiar as the rhythm of your heartbeat. You had always felt safe with her, protected in a way that transcended mere physical security. Tonight, however, there was something more you needed to share, something that would change everything.

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you turned to face her. Her eyes, those piercing, fierce eyes, softened as they met yours. You could see the love there, the adoration she rarely showed to anyone else. It gave you the courage to speak.

"Minthara," you began, your voice a mixture of nervousness and excitement. "There's something I need to tell you. Something important."

Minthara’s brow furrowed slightly in concern, her grip on you tightening just a fraction. "What is it, my love?" she asked, her voice low and hushed, as though she already sensed the gravity of your words.

You placed a hand on your stomach, the gesture subtle yet significant, drawing Minthara’s gaze downwards.

"I'm pregnant," you said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. "We’re going to have a child, Minthara. A child of our own."

For a moment, Minthara simply stared at you, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, and you wondered if perhaps she was in shock, struggling to process what you had just told her. But then, slowly, the edges of her lips curled into a smile—an expression so rare and beautiful that it took your breath away.

"You’re carrying my child?" Minthara’s voice was filled with awe, her hand reaching out to gently touch your stomach, almost as if she couldn’t quite believe it herself. "You’re carrying my heiress?"

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the certainty in her voice. "Heiress?" you teased lightly. "How do you know it’s a girl?"

Minthara’s eyes met yours, and there was a glint of possessive pride in them as she smirked.

"I can just tell," she said, her tone confident, almost as if it were a challenge for you to question her instincts. Without hesitation, she leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your stomach, the touch of her lips sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fire nearby.

The kiss was filled with reverence, her possessiveness flaring in a way that was both intense and comforting. When she looked back up at you, her gaze was fierce with determination.

"This child," she whispered, her voice low and possessive, "will be our legacy. Our bond, our love, made flesh. She will be strong, like you. She will be fierce, like me. And she will be ours."

Minthara’s hand remained on your stomach, as though she was staking her claim, ensuring that you knew, and that the world knew, that this child belonged to both of you.

"No one will harm you, or her," Minthara vowed, her voice growing more intense. "I will see to it that you are both protected, cherished, and revered. You are mine, and so is she."

You could feel the intensity of Minthara’s emotions in every word, every touch. The fierce drow warrior, who had always been so strong, so unyielding, was now revealing a side of herself that was vulnerable and deeply protective. It made your heart swell with love for her, and you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

Minthara pulled you close, her embrace both gentle and possessive, her lips brushing against your forehead as she whispered, "You’ve given me a gift beyond measure, my love. I will not fail you. I will not fail her."

In that moment, you knew that Minthara’s love for you, and for the child you carried, was unbreakable. And as you leaned into her, feeling the strength of her arms around you, you knew that no matter what came next, you would never be alone.

���── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Raphael:

The grand, opulent room of Raphael’s abode was dimly lit by the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. The rich, crimson curtains were drawn, casting a warm, inviting hue over the elegant furnishings. You paced restlessly, feeling the weight of the news you needed to share with Raphael pressing heavily on your shoulders. His usual aura of confident elegance seemed more distant than ever, and you could sense his sharp eyes watching you with curiosity and a hint of concern.

You had tried to summon the courage to tell him earlier, but each time you opened your mouth, the words seemed to falter. Raphael’s disdain for children was no secret, and you couldn’t help but fear how he would react to the news of your pregnancy. It wasn’t just a matter of his feelings towards children; it was about the future you both shared and how this new life might change everything.

Raphael, sensing your distress, had taken it upon himself to investigate. His elegant footsteps echoed softly as he approached, his eyes narrowing with a mix of frustration and worry.

“Darling,” he began, his voice smooth but tinged with concern, “I can see something is troubling you. You’ve been unusually distant lately. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You stopped pacing and turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. His piercing gaze seemed to demand an answer, and you couldn’t avoid it any longer. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“Raphael… I have something important to tell you,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Raphael’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of genuine curiosity crossing his face. “Oh? What is it, my love? You know you can tell me anything.”

You hesitated, then finally forced the words out. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, there was a stunned silence. Raphael’s eyes widened further, his usually unflappable composure momentarily shaken. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more urgent tone. “Pregnant? You… you’re with child?”

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yes. I was worried about how you would react, especially given your… feelings towards children.”

Raphael’s expression shifted from shock to something softer, a hint of hurt flickering behind his eyes. He stepped forward, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm.

“You think so little of me that you’d believe I would cast aside you and our child?” His voice, though gentle, carried an edge of reproach.

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with regret. “I just wasn’t sure how you’d feel. I know you’ve never been fond of children, and I didn’t want to burden you with this.”

Raphael’s features softened, and he sighed deeply, as though releasing a long-held breath.

“How could you think that I would reject you, or our child?” he said, his tone earnest. “Yes, I have my reservations about the little brats that plague this world, but you and our heir are different. You are my love, and this child… this child is a part of us.”

You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the affection that he had always hidden behind his devilish charm.

“I would never abandon you or our child,” he continued, stepping closer and cupping your face in his hands. “I may not be the most traditional of fathers, but I will embrace this responsibility. You have my word.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your worries melting away as Raphael’s words sank in.

“Really? You mean it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Raphael nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Of course, my love. The thought of our child brings me a sense of… unexpected joy. I suppose it’s a sign of my affection for you that I am willing to embrace this new chapter.”

He leaned in and kissed you gently, his touch tender and reassuring.

“We will face this together,” he murmured against your lips. “You, me, and our little one. We will build a future that is ours alone, one that defies expectations and embraces our unique bond.”

You wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Thank you, Raphael. I was so afraid of what you might say.”

He smiled, his eyes reflecting a genuine warmth you rarely saw. “There is nothing to fear, my dear. As long as we have each other, we can face anything.”

As you held each other, you felt a deep sense of peace and gratitude. Raphael’s love and acceptance made the future seem bright, and you knew that together, you would welcome this new life with open hearts.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[yourfriendowlbear]

Name Day

Astarion x gn!reader

Summary: It's your name day. Astarion wants to do something special for you.

today is my birthday, so I figured I'd write something a little self-indulgent

It’s your name day, and Astarion has been frantic

He doesn’t remember much about his life before Cazador, but he knows that birthdays are a big fucking deal for elves

And whether you’re an elf or not, he wants to do something. If you are an elf, it’s all the more important for him to celebrate accordingly.

He’s freaking out. What in the hells does he do for you? What in the hells can he get you? 

He’s more than happy to buy you anything–he’s more than happy to steal you anything, but you have everything reasonable that you could want.

Nothing seems good enough for you. He knows that you’ll more than likely love whatever he ends up with, but that doesn’t mean he’s cutting himself any slack.

He’s so desperate that he goes to Gale. He’s got ideas, but he’s just a vampire with limited resources and limited nighttime hours. He knows when he’s at a disadvantage, and though he’s loathe to ask for help, he isn’t willing to fumble this.

So he convinces you to visit Waterdeep and to drop in on your wizard friend, who has insisted on numerous occasions that you’re more than welcome at his tower any time.

It takes a few days, but Gale does manage to enchant something for Astarion to gift you. The wizard had helped him plan it, and he’d basically had to create the enchantment from the ground up. It’s beautiful, and he absolutely cannot wait to give it to you.

The day of your birthday arrives, and you’re at your shared home in Bloomridge, in the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. The house–like many of the homes in the neighborhood–is built onto the side of the city wall. It’s small but not cramped, with a large, inviting kitchen, a cozy drawing room, and two bedrooms. Two balconies–one off the main bedroom, one off the drawing room–look out over the city and Grey Harbor.

Astarion is nervous, and he’s never been more glad to not have a heart, since it would probably give him away.

It’s evening. The two of you have just gotten up. You’re sitting out on the balcony, curled up on the outdoor settee. There’s a lantern hanging on a hook above you as you read. Astarion’s arm rests around your shoulders, a book clasped in his other hand. You’re nestled into his side, a barely held together ancient tome in your lap. Scratch lays on the ground in front of the settee, head on his paws.

A raucous laughter pierces through the foggy evening. Karlach and Lae’zel are the first to appear on the stairs.

Leave it to your merry band of misfits to disrupt the peace of your little neighborhood.

You’re off the couch and at the front door in a flash. Scratch gives a confused woof before trotting off after you. Astarion can hear you laughing as you let them all in.

By the time he can see you at the door, you’re being squeezed by Karlach. Gale stands, grinning, in the hall. Wordlessly, he nudges a package into Astarion’s hands.

Wyll has brought a cake. Lae’zel carries something that looks strangely like a sword wrapped in paper. Shadowheart has a little box.

As you lead them all in, Gale hands you a large bottle of Blackstaff wine.

You drink and laugh with these people who, over the course of only a few months, became your best friends. And as much as Astarion hates to admit it, he loves them for showing up for you.

Eventually, Karlach pushes you to open the presents they’ve brought. 

As expected, Lae’zel has brought you a Githyanki sword, a traditional gift for warriors on their name days. Shadowheart has brought you a necklace that she’s blessed.

Astarion saves his for last, sliding it into your lap when you’re laughing at something Wyll has said, your voices all a little louder from the wine. You look at him, a little confused, but you tear the paper off anyway.

You’re even more confused when you discover six stone tablets and wooden styluses inside.

Gale takes pity on you, and picks one up, using the stylus to write ‘happy name day, tav’ on one of the slates. You gasp when it appears on the other five almost immediately.

“So you can talk with everyone when you need to,” Astarion explains. He hates how soft his voice sounds, but gods above, he put a lot of thought into this. He so desperately wants you to like it.

But his fears evaporate when you launch out of your chair, your arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug. 

He laughs and hugs you back, relieved that, for once, he could give you something nice, something you deserve, so that he could show you just how cared for you are.

[lakemojave]

So for those who might not know I've been streaming this co op run of Baldur's Gate 3 with my friends--there's 4 of us, which means no room for NPCs in the overland party, but lots of space for our own silly RP. We've been coming up with a great story for these 4 so far, but we try and weave in the NPCs here and there (one of us is romancing Lae'zel, and our Dark Urge had a big interaction with Wyll). However the most insane thing thus far has been with the character we've addressed the least: Gale.

Early in the playthrough, our paladin said he had no new magic items for Gale to consume. Due to a bug, this made Gale so upset that he left the party permanently. No big deal, right? Well, soon enough that same paladin gets the ability to summon Shovel the Quasit, whom he promptly named New Gale.

Good times so far. In our 8th episode we actually took New Gale with us to the underdark quests with the Duergar and the mines and such, and despite having poor attack options and seven hit points, he rolled very well and survived nearly every combat. The same cannot be said for the rest of us that session--we had numerous speech check errors and TPKs that meant we had to reload several save states. A convenient, in universe explanation? Well, a wizard did it. THE wizard did it. New Gale can send us back in time, I guess.

So we had fun and kept the bit going until, about 2 hours in, we face off with a bunch of magma mephits in the underforge. No big deal, except they explode when they die and two of them are surrounding New Gale. Our monk, not realizing that New Gale would take lethal fall damage if thrown like 30 feet away, threw New Gale like 30 feet away, killing him instantly. Such an amazing streak ended by friendly fire.

New Gale was too good a bit to let die so easily though. The very next session, we used a hireling mechanic to summon a gnome wizard to hang around our camp, who we decided was New Gale's reincarnation. We haven't taken him into battle onscreen, but we've kept the bit up so much that his time loop powers are actually canon to our party's made up story (check out episode 12 for that, I won't spoil it here). However, recently we realized that we can put this hireling gnome in the mirror that changes your appearance and/or name. We call him whatever we want in game. So now we have this fucking guy hanging around our camp all the time and I have to stop myself from howling with laughter every single time.

[nyrandrea]

Restless

Summary: As your sleepless nights start to catch up with you, you turn to a certain vampire who might just be able to help.

Also available to read here on A03!

Word Count - 2.7k

Enjoy!

xxx

Sleep had always been something of an illusion to you. 

Each night, as the world succumbed to slumber, you lay in your bedroll, with eyes wide open, gazing at the twinkling stars of the endless night sky. It was as if the world had pressed pause, leaving you to confront the shadows of your own thoughts. Your insomnia was a relentless adversary, a cruel warden that held you captive in the prison of wakefulness. 

The nights stretched on endlessly, and as the hours ticked by, your exhaustion grew more profound.  

Your mind raced with thoughts, a relentless carousel of worries, hopes, and regrets. You would toss and turn, your body tangled in the sheets, seeking elusive comfort. Come morning, the birds seemed to mock you, a constant reminder of the passage of time that slipped away while you lay wide awake.

By the time everyone else was up and refreshed from a good night’s sleep, you were still lying flat on your back, your bloodshot eyes stinging as you stared up at the pale morning sky. 

“Darling, it’s time to get up,” Astarion said, standing above you with hands on hips, his expression somewhat bemused. “Honestly, you’re so lazy, just like Gale.” 

He muttered that last part, glaring towards the wizard’s tent as a rumbling snore emanated from it and echoed throughout the camp. The vampire suddenly smirked, and you rolled your head to follow his gaze, only to see Karlach sneaking towards the tent with her hands out, ready to pounce. 

The snoring was cut short with a high-pitched scream, followed by a roar of laughter, and a lot of cursing on Gale’s part. 

“Good, at least that’s one of you up,” Astarion said, turning back towards you. “Now, are you going to follow suit? Or am I going to have to stoop to Karlach’s tactics? Brash as they are.” 

“Hey! My tactics are quite refined, thank you very much,” Karlach rebuked, stabbing a thumb in Gale’s direction, the poor man stumbling to find his cloak. “Got him up, didn’t I?” 

“That you did, darling.” 

“I’m up,” you muttered hoarsely, wincing as you slowly pushed yourself up off the ground, your body feeling about a hundred years old. “I’m up.” 

“Oh dear,” Astarion grimaced. “Looks like someone didn’t get their beauty sleep last night, hm?” 

His tone was light but there was an almost... concerned note to it, as if he was prodding. You felt a pang in your chest; he only spoke the truth; your eyes, once bright and expressive, now bore the heavy bags and dark circles of sleep deprivation. Your skin had dulled and paled considerably over the past few weeks, and your hair was dishevelled and unkempt.  

You almost certainly looked as bad as you felt. 

Part of you wanted to blame the group: Astarion for nearly sucking you dry of your blood, Karlach for being so damn loud all the time, Gale for making demands of you every ten minutes, Lae’zel for very nearly causing fights everywhere she went with her brashness, Shadowheart for her condescending demeanour and Wyll for craving validation from you every time you had a chat with him. The only sane person here seemed to be Halsin, and even he was starting to grate on your nerves for just looking so damn well-rested and perky.

The other part of you wanted to cry, to apologise for being such a failure and run away into the woods to never be seen or heard from again and just succumb to whatever fate the mind-flayer parasite had in store for you. 

Instead, you forced a smile, and lied.  

“Just had a nightmare, is all.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed, a simmering concern etched into the lines of his face. In that moment you felt a soft push in your mind, and the tadpole behind your eye squirmed as if responding to something. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken emotions, a palpable tension that seemed to hang between you both.  

It was only when you winced that the vampire averted his gaze, and the unseen force retreated from your mind. 

“Terribly sorry,” Astarion said as you rubbed your head. “It would seem that my worm wanted to talk with yours; perhaps it was... concerned. Ooh, do you think that they’re best friends?” 

“I doubt it,” you muttered, a little annoyed at his giddiness. “Maybe tell yours to mind its own business next time.” 

“Of course, apologies again,” he said with that smooth voice and puppy-dog eyes of his, it was enough to make your irritation melt away. “But should a nightmare ever arise in that darling head of yours again, just know that you can seek me out.” 

You blinked, a little surprised at the open invitation. You couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine; it was always hard to tell with him. The only times you had ever been intimate was whenever he sought you out for a bit of casual fun. He seemed confused as to why you never wanted to initiate, but you tried to explain that while you enjoyed your time together, you never wanted to invade his privacy as you respected that camp time was everyone’s chance for a bit of peace and were entitled to such.  

This only seemed to confuse him further. 

Still, this had to be a big step for him, to ask you to his tent -his sanctuary- and you didn’t want to seem ungrateful. 

“I-I will,” you stutter. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, my dear,” Astarion smiled. “Now, shall we see what chaos today brings for us? It’s been far too long since we’ve had to kill anyone.” 

You bumped his shoulder playfully. “We killed that group of bandits only yesterday.” 

He returned the gesture with a sly smirk. “Exactly.” 

During the day, you continued your journey with a fragile facade of normalcy, sipping on coffee like it was the elixir of life, desperately trying to stay awake. Your interactions with others were tinged with a weary detachment, as if you were viewing the world through a foggy pane of glass.  

Emotions played hide-and-seek within your very soul. Frustration lurked just beneath the surface, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation. An innocent quip or question would trigger an unexpected wellspring of tears, followed by nervous laughter, leaving everyone in the group perplexed. You merely brushed it off as the tadpole messing with your head, but even that raised a few eyebrows as nobody else was acting up—it was a good thing you were persuasive. 

You tried to avoid battles wherever and whenever you could, opting to take the longer roads or attempting to sweet-talk your way out of a sticky situation. However, some fights were unavoidable, and this was when your sleep deprivation was really put on show for everyone to see; your movements were sluggish, enemies were able to get more hits on you and you had to be helped back up to your feet on more than one occasion.  

The others insisted on setting up camp a little earlier than usual so you could rest and, despite your trying to tell them that you were fine and wanted to keep going because these tadpoles weren’t going to remove themselves anytime soon, they wouldn’t take no for an answer.  

So, here you were again, on your back, staring up at the stars. Another night of having an existential crisis while everyone else slumbered on peacefully. Rinse and repeat. 

You had tried everything to conquer your insomnia. Experimented with herbal teas, soothing music, you had even consulted a sleep specialist back in Baldur’s Gate who prescribed a cocktail of medications. But the battle persisted, night after night. 

Sitting up and rubbing your dry, stinging eyes, you decided to try something else. 

As you crept through the camp, you were careful not to wake anyone else up as you approached Astarion’s tent, tentatively peeking in through the flap before reprimanding yourself; even though he had invited you, boundaries were important, you couldn’t just go barging in. So, you gently knocked on one of the wooden beams that supported the tent. 

“Astarion...?” You softly whispered, waiting for a response. 

Only silence followed. 

You knocked again, wincing slightly at the louder noise you made. For a moment you thought about abandoning this whole silly idea and going back to staring into space for the next eight hours, but desperation made you persistent. 

Mercifully, you heard a faint shuffle come from inside the tent. 

“Come in,” Astarion’s husky, muffled voice answered. 

Nervously, you slipped inside, and a wave of warmth immediately washed over your face as you were greeted with the sight of a bare-chested Astarion sitting cross-legged on his bedroll. You were grateful he at least had pants on, otherwise you would have been out of there like a shot. 

A mischievous smile spread across his face as he watched you squirm uncomfortably. “Whatever is the matter, darling?” His lips formed a perfect pout. “Come to ask me for a little cuddle to chase the bad dreams away?” 

Your nostrils flared as you glowered down at him while he smirked smugly back up, because of course he would tease you about something like this. You should have known that he wasn’t going to take you seriously. 

“Forget it,” you said, making a sharp turn to re-open the tent flap. “I-I never should have come here, I’ll just... leave you be.”  

You missed the flash of panic on his face as he quickly got to his knees to reach out and grab your wrist before you could make it out.  

“Wait!” He said, stopping you in your tracks. “I’m sorry, come back in, please?” 

You slowly turned your head. 

“I promise not to tease you.” 

Begrudgingly, you allowed him to take your hand and escort you back inside, guiding you to sit down beside him on the floor. 

“You’re having trouble sleeping again, I presume?” 

Nodding your head, you squeezed the bridge of your nose and sighed, trying to swallow down the overwhelming urge to break down in front of him and cry in pure frustration.  

“I... I’ve been struggling with insomnia for a while now.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Well now, that’s a revelation.” 

You had half a mind to slap him. 

“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “No teasing, of course, but come on darling, it was pretty obvious from the start.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your gaze cast downward, wondering why you even came here in the first place if he was just going to insult you. 

“You’re still beautiful,” he said, softly caressing your jaw to angle your face towards him. “Very beautiful indeed.” 

Your heart thumped wildly as the tip of your nose brushed his, and you would have crumpled into his well-tuned act of seduction if it were not for one burning question suddenly on your mind. 

“How do you do it?"

“I- do what?”  

“Elves don’t sleep, right?” You said, blinking curiously. “How do you... not sleep?” 

“We uh... meditate, darling. Wait, how do you not know this?” he asked, pulling back with his eyebrow raised. “You must have seen me doing it at some stage or another.” 

“...I always just thought you pretended to sleep,” you hummed in thought. “Now that I think about it, the way you lay down was always kind of strange looking.” 

He snorted a laugh at your brutal honesty, and feeling a jab of guilt, you tried to back-track on your word vomit. 

“Sorry! Um… no offence?” 

"None taken, darling,” he said, waving a nonchalant hand. “I can see why my eloquent poses would look strange to you, but for elves, meditation is a common practice. Helps us to… calm down; be in the moment, as it were.” 

A comfortable silence fell between you.

“Could you show me?”  

Astarion gave you a questionable look. “You want me to show you how to meditate?” 

You nod vigorously and cross your legs with your arms resting on your knees to show that you’re serious. It takes you a moment to figure out which fingers were supposed to touch together but you get there eventually.  

With a bemused smile, the vampire shrugs. “Alright, I've had stranger requests.” 

You wanted to question that but put a pin in it for another time. 

"Are you ready?" Astarion asked. You nod, your heart fluttering with both anticipation and trust. “Now, clear your head.” 

You give him a dry look. 

He rolls his eyes back. “Yes, admittedly a little hard, what with the little residents living up there but just... trust me, alright? Close your eyes.” 

You complied, and Astarion began to guide you, his words soft and rhythmic, like a gentle lullaby. "Breathe in deeply," he said, his own breath aligning with yours. "Feel the air fill your lungs, expanding your chest, and exhale slowly, try to let go of any tension." 

You followed his instructions, your breath matching his like a perfectly choreographed dance. With each inhale and exhale, you felt a growing sense of calm washing over. 

"Thoughts may arise, like passing clouds," Astarion murmured. "Acknowledge them but let them drift away. Return your focus to your breath.” 

You found yourself navigating the currents of your thoughts with newfound ease, like a sailor guiding a boat through calm waters. The more you let go, the more profound your sense of inner stillness grew. You felt the weight of your worries begin to dissolve. The burdens of your leadership, of the mind-flayer tadpoles and the problems that came with it seemed to retreat into the distance, leaving you with a newfound clarity. 

"Good," Astarion whispered. "Now, focus on your body. Notice any tension, any discomfort. Let it go with each breath. Feel your body becoming lighter, more at ease." 

Minutes passed like hours, and the tent seemed to fill with an ethereal stillness. You and Astarion remained connected through your breath, it was as if time itself had become irrelevant, and you were both suspended in a moment of pure existence. 

You could feel the tension in your shoulders and neck melting away. It was as if the cares of the world were simply slipping through your fingers. 

Slipping... 

Slipping...  

“...Darling? Are you-? Oh.” 

Astarion’s eyes widen, and he winces a little when your head falls into his shoulder. He catches you gently by the arms, so you don’t slip and go face-first into his lap; it was a delicious thought but for another time, when you were conscious and ready.  

But right now, he isn’t quite sure what to do with you. He certainly knows he can’t hold you like this all night; it would be uncomfortable for both of you. His eyebrows crease as he frowns while he tries to slowly lower you to the ground. 

To absolutely no avail; unconsciously you end up pulling him in closer. 

“Oh, for Gods's sake,” the vampire huffs incredulously. “What am I, some sort of glorified teddy bear?” 

Half-asleep and still nestled into Astarion’s chest, you mumble something incoherent in response, your breath warm against his skin. You snuggle even closer, your head burrowing into the crook of his neck. 

For a moment, Astarion felt a flicker of irritation, his desire for a good night's rest warring with his affection for you. He yearned to stretch out, to find the perfect position that would allow him the bliss of undisturbed meditation. But as he looked down at the peaceful expression on your face, all traces of weariness and anxiety erased, he just couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 

Reluctantly, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer still. He could feel the gentle rise and fall of your breath, the slow, rhythmic cadence of sleep. The warmth of your body against his own gradually seeped through the cracks in his defences, and his irritation gave way to an overwhelming tenderness. 

In that moment, he realised that the inconvenience of being your living pillow was a small price to pay for the privilege of holding you close, of being the one you sought comfort in. As you drifted further into slumber, Astarion closed his eyes and surrendered to the serenity of the night, the gentle weight of your devotion for each other enveloping you both, anchoring him in the moment and reminding him of the beauty in life's simple, sweet sacrifices. 

xxx 

Yyyyyeah I know this one has the same beats as 'Everything's Fine' but what can I say? I'm a sucker for begrudgingly soft Astarion ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Let me know what y'all think!

Links to my other Astarion works

'Everything's Fine'

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

[wwasted]

on this Halloween i bring u this thought: figure skater gale au 🧎🏼‍♀️

Rich, pair figure skater Gale whose family moved to Wisconsin to further his skating career. Marge is his partner. He’s a bit of an ice princess (stoic, bitchy, very blunt) and dating his equally rich quarterback boyfriend. The boyfriend is a total self obsessed douche but they’re both dedicated to their sports so he never gets mad at Gale when Gale has to cancel or doesn’t text. He also makes his parents happy, because of his equal status and they’ve always been weird about him being gay so he figures why the fuck not. He keeps him around, even if the sex is shit.

Enter John. He’s a troublemaking burn out who has absolutely no interest in college, which is funny because he’s constantly hanging around their local college. And that’s only because his best friend Curt attends and someone has to save his ass from the rich pricks and nerds. they’re always at parties and hotboxing Curt’s dormroom (is Curt fucking the RA so he looks the other way? Probably) It’s hard not to be bitter when the whole town wrote him off before he even had the chance because of who his old man is, so he takes a special kind of pleasure in fucking with them and showing that he can be even worse.

They are absolute opposites in every way, and yet they can’t stay away from each other. They love arguing despite the fact that they shouldn’t even talk to each other because they’re in such different circles. Gale is constantly playing the “I’m better than you and you should be thankful I even look at you” card which backfires because it just makes John wanna hold him down and fuck him until he’s begging. Eventually the arguing becomes foreplay and the foreplay turns into them actually hatefucking. And he’s still definitely dating the douche quarterback, but honestly that just makes it hotter for both of them. The sneaking around, the fights in public where everyone thinks they hate each other, but secretly they’ll meet up in the some bedroom or bathroom of whatever house party they’re at and John will fuck Gale until he cries with a hand over his mouth because it turns out you never learn volume control when you don’t typically have a reason to moan or be loud.

(When Gale would have sex with his boyfriend, he would just lay there and get lost in his head, he’d go over the routines with Marge he wanted to improve, what assignments he had for class, he viewed it as his down time where he could get some mental housekeeping done. At least then they both got something out of it. Either way, he never got the urge to moan or make a single sound. And he often had the excuse of needing to be quiet so it worked anyway. The first time Bucky fucks Gale, he’s honestly expecting the same situation but thank fuck their first time manages to be somewhere they have time and is fairly private bc Gale is LOUD. At first Bucky thinks that he’s just faking it, and honestly gets kind of pissed, so he starts going deeper, harder, handling him rougher. But that just makes the noises and moans coming out of Gale even louder, more unhinged, his nails embedding themselves in John’s back and ass and he’s definitely going to end up with scars if they keep doing this. And he really fucking hopes they do. Gale sounds like he’s dying for John’s cock when he comes. He hasn’t even heard some of those noises in porn. Bucky never shuts up about it. Gale gets even bitchier when he’s embarrassed. It’s an endless feedback loop that leads to a lot of rough dirty sex.)

They get off on talking shit about each other to other people and seeing if it ends up getting to the other person. And if it does, repeating what was said during sex. “I wonder what everyone will think when they find out that you love being on your knees for me, since ya know, I’m such worthless trash” “begging for me? But I thought you wouldn’t touch me with a 10 foot pole since the frost would make your dick fall off” It becomes a thing. Until it doesn’t. Because at some point the hate fucking turns into deep emotional fucking where it’s pretty obvious they’re in love with each other. Instead of it being hot to sneak around on Gale’s idiot boyfriend, John wants to beat the shit out of him every time he sees him. Wants to tell him that he’ll never have Gale like John does. And when some guy or girl inevitably talks about how hot John is while Gale is within hearing distance, he wants to brag about how John would never touch them when he has Gale. So something has to give. Gale’s rich friends are shocked and appalled when they find out he’s dating Bucky. It’s honestly kind of a mini scandal at the college. Gale Cleven and John Egan? Unheard of.

But even when they’re in love and they’re dating, Gale is so bitchy. All the time. Constantly threatening Bucky that he won’t put out ever again bc Bucky didn’t respond to a text fast enough (the irony is not lost him) constantly smacking his hand away and turning his head when John tries to kiss him. Total brat. And John loves it. Is obsessed with it. The meaner Gale is to him, the harder he gets. And while Gale may be bitchy, all it takes is a few “princess” or “c’mon doll” in that voice and a hand sliding up under his shirt for Gale to cave and allow Bucky to touch him again.

They do have their sweet moments, especially after sex. if John fucks him just right, it’s like his brain reboots itself and he forgets that he’s supposed to be prickly. He’ll lay his head on John’s chest and shove his face into his neck and nuzzle. He’ll place soft kisses anywhere he can reach. He’ll say I love you while his fingers are tangled in John’s hair.

John loves that version of him just as much as the bitchy one. In fact, John would happily spend the rest of his life thawing his ice princess, just to let him refreeze and start all over.

Thots?

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn in Baldur's Gate 3: Chapter 1

Plot: You’ve been reincarnated.  It’s the realization you come to when the tiefling offering you a health potion introduces himself as Tav.  You died and your soul revived in Baldur's Gate 3, at the beginning of the game no less.  But you only have the memories of your past life on Earth, and none of your current one.  

Tav invites you to join him on his journey, despite your lack of abilities or maybe because of it.  You might as well go along with it; where else would you go with no memory of who you currently are, or knowledge of anything that lies outside of the narrative?

There is much to discover about your life in Baldur's Gate, and what transpires relies on the tiefling leading your group as Tav.

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: This is very self-indulgent so there will by a lot of Gale and Astarion.

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

“I’m Tav.”

He’s a tiefling, you recall.  Tall and bulky with curled horns.  The dark gray skin tells you he’s descended from Mephistopheles, and his simple leather gear tells you he’s a barbarian.  Huh.  Yeah, that makes sense, he’s Tav, the hero of the game!  Or…the villain?  Your head pounds as memories flood back to you—tieflings, bards, goblins, vampires—you, sitting at a computer debating which choice would garner you the most favour with your companions in…

“Baldur’s Gate,” you mumble.  You slap a hand over your mouth, staying on your knees as you blink at the tiefling.  At Tav.  He arches his brows and kneels beside you, offering you a small vial of red liquid.

“You’re from Baldur’s Gate, too?” he asks.  “Drink this, it’ll make you feel better.”

Without much thought you take the already opened vial from him and swallow it down in one small gulp.  With a deep breath the pounding in your head subsides and you can think a little clearer.  Maybe not clear enough to fully comprehend that you’re currently in a video game, or that there’s a small wriggling behind your left eye which means…

More images come to you, a mind flayer holding a worm with too many teeth to your eye,  a githyanki—Lae’zel—pointing a sword at you, and then falling from the ship.  The nautiloid.  Tav’s memories of the ship.

Tav winces as the visions fade.  “Guess you got one of those, too.”

A chill runs down your spine, through each and every bone of your body until the squirming thing behind your eye stops movement all together.  

“I uh…”  You look around at the crash area, taking in the rocks and splotches of fire dotting the land on one side and water on your left, until you meet the gaze of a raven-haired half-elf.  

“This one doesn’t seem to be all there,” she says.  Her voice is as smooth and condescending as you remember, and you find it endearing despite the insult.

“Give them a moment,” Tav responds over his shoulder.  “It’s a lot to take in.”

Yes, especially because this is most definitely a dream.  A very vivid, painful, exciting, insane dream.

“What’s your name?” 

You fear all you can do is blink.  You tell them your name, voice as shaky as your body.  There’s a tremble in your hands that you can’t control, even with a hard grip on the now empty vial.  “And thank you…for the potion.”

Tav lifts, holding a large sharp-nailed hand out to you.  “Can you stand?”

You nod, taking his hand and letting him lift you to your feet. You let your hand drop to dust off your clothes, nothing that you remember wearing.  The last thing you recall was going to bed in a tank top and shorts but you’re now wearing a dark blue overcoat atop loose fitting pants and a fitted shirt.  The borders of the coat are stitched with gold swirls, and based on the softness of everything you wear it has to be expensive.  Somehow, after everything (whatever the Hells that involved) you are quite clean.  Not to mention the bag that hangs at your hip beneath your coat is quite heavy, and another bag that wraps around your waist and sits at your back has the contents clinking together when you move.

You look like a caster of some kind, but you can’t tell which.  You can’t feel anything that would indicate your abilities, but some cold sensation at the back of your mind tells you you can do something.  Like another limb sits in your mind, waiting to be moved.

“We don’t have time for stragglers,” Shadowheart says.

“Yet I helped you,” Tav counters.  There’s a playfulness to his tone that doesn’t match his furrowed brow.  

Shadowheart concedes.  “Fair enough.  You’re welcome to join us in our search for a healer.”

You nod.  Yes, a healer!  They’ll be able to—pain strikes your temples as another memory clouds your mind.  

A truck careening at you, horn blaring—a sharp hit of adrenaline and then…here.

“Oh my God I’ve been isekaied.”  Your revelation earns you quizzical looks from Tav and Shadowheart.  Reincarnated.  Just like those cheesy but addicting books about a girl being reincarnated as a villainess in some cheesy addicting romance novel.  You press your hands to your face, feeling familiar features but still wary.  “Quick, what do I look like?”

“A lunatic,” Shadowheart answers.

Tav hesitates, but describes you.  You.  Not some other face, not a character you recall from the game but you.  Regular human you. You sigh, relief flooding over you.

“As…interesting as this conversation is, we should get moving,” Tav says.

“Agreed.”  Shadowheart doesn’t move until Tav heads to the only direction you can go, near part of the crashed ship.  

“We need to find Lae’zel,” Tav adds.

“Less agreeable,” Shadowheart says.  “She’s probably long gone by now, if not dead.”

“Well we should still keep an eye out.”

You follow the two into the still burning wreckage where they suddenly stop and draw their weapons—Tav a large axe, and Shadowheart her mace and shield.  

“Intellect devourers,” you conclude.  Three sit at the far end of the ship, scurrying towards you at a frightening speed.  With one slash of his axe Tav takes out two of them before they can get close to you, and Shadowheart smacks the other one down.  All defeated in what?  Three seconds? 

The three brains bleed out and flop to their sides, clawed limbs twitching.

“Vile creatures,” Tav says, holstering his axe.  You expect the two to keep moving and check the nearby bodies for gold and supplies, just as you do in the game, but they don’t.  They walk right past the dead man without rifling through his pockets and as you step by you feel your stomach lurch.  To see a bloody disfigured body in reality felt very different from the game. The vacant eyes staring upward, pieces of flesh torn from his stomach…It isn’t until a hand covers your eyes and directs you forward do you realize you’d stopped.  

“Just keep moving,” Tav says, keeping his hand by the side of your head so you can’t see the body.  When his hand falls you keep your eyes on his swinging tail, and follow after him as he turns and moves into the sun.

Barrels and a broken down cart let you know what’s coming next—who’s coming next.  

Your excitement strikes you then, still shaky and confused but awake.  You’re in Baldur’s Gate 3, with Tav and Shadowheart, and hopefully all the others.  

Your eyes scan the water nearby, debris scattered everywhere until you spot a dagger on the dock.  Tav and Shadowheart watch you dart over and pick it up.

“I thought you would be one to attack with words, not knives,” Shadowheart says coolly.

You stash the dagger in a boot, smiling at Shadowheart.  Gods. She was pretty as pixels but seeing her in the flesh, she was something else.  “Well, words aren’t always the best weapons.”

“Can I get some help?”

You recognize the voice without needing to see the speaker.  Astarion is just up the hill waiting to ambush Tav and…kill him depending on how he answers.  

Based on how Tav darted ahead at the sound of someone in trouble (albeit fake trouble) you figured it wouldn’t turn out too terribly.  So they had skipped over robbing the dead, and didn’t explore every corner of the map looking for treasure chests…that didn’t mean things would be different with each companion intro, right?  There’s a plot here, and it has to be followed to a certain degree…right?  There were no screen pop ups to decide dialogue and you all appeared to have free will, which was good.

Right?

Your thoughts did little to comfort you as you climbed the hill to find Astarion already pointing his blade at Tav who was apparently perceptive enough to dodge rolling around in the ground with the vampire.  You stopped next to Shadowheart, at ease just watching the situation unfold.

Both men twitch and writhe as their parasites connect.  When their visions fade Astarion questions it, and Tav answers honestly about being in the mind flayer ship and what the worms can do.

You study Astarion’s face as he realizes that he’s somewhat free, but there’s a time limit to the incubation period.  Tav offers for him to join your trio, and just like you remember, he agrees.

“Splendid,” Astarion says.  “Lead on.”

At that the vampire meets your eyes.  Icicles dance up your spine until they pierce the back of your head, making you wince and hold a hand against the spot.  

You grunt at the sudden pain, the sound quiet but drawing attention all the same.  You wave the eyes away from you with your free hand.  “Sorry.  Head still hurts a bit from…having a tadpole put inside it.”

Nobody questions that, though you know it was something else.  Every time your eyes even flit in Astarion’s direction you can feel a push at the back of your head, that phantom limb clenching as if trying to stretch and release itself.  You wish you could say it was the tadpole, but it feels nothing like when you connected with Tav.  

“Well let’s just try to keep our worms separate,” Astarion says, seemingly at you.  “I don’t need to see what’s in your head anymore than you do mine.”

His eyes linger a moment on Tav.  You nod your agreement though he isn’t looking at you now.

“I saw some footprints along another path,” Tav announces.  “There could be other survivors.”

There doesn’t seem to be any question as to who is in charge.  Shadowheart insists on searching for a healer but with a quick convincing from Tav you’re all headed towards a strange looking purple sigil.  

“Looks unstable,” Shadowheart says.

“Best left alone,” Tav agrees.  It was just like a friend's first play through that thought the sigil would kill them, so they never had Gale join their party.  It wasn’t a totally unfounded theory—swirling, sparking voids did seem like something that shouldn’t be touched but everything in this world had a purpose.  Anything out of place or, well, glowing, was important to the story.

But then the group is walking toward the bodies of three goblins discussing supplies.  

They’ll steal from goblins but not humans?  Seems odd but maybe you’re the weird one being so willing to pillage the dead, no matter their race.  You frown, looking back at the sigil and knowing who is inside.  “You sure you don’t want to see why it’s like that?”

Astarion is observing his nails while Tav loots the goblin bodies.  Shadowheart kicks one of the bodies out of her way once fully plundered and looks back at you.  “Be my guest.  But if you get sucked in don’t expect me to come looking for you.”

“I’ll come look for you,” Tav states with a cheeky grin, hands inside a dead goblins pockets. It makes you smile back, so…kind and disarming.  You recall barbarians didn’t have high charisma, but Tav seemed to have it in spades.  Or perhaps your recent head injury was clouding your judgement—after all your reaction to being reincarnated, to being dead, was quite tame. 

“Ah, a true hero.”  Astarion looks between you and Tav, eyes narrowing as if trying to solve a puzzle.

You turn your attention back to the sigil, taking a small step towards it when an arm pops out. 

“A hand?” a voice calls.  “Anybody?”

You slap the waxing hand immediately without a thought.

“Perhaps I should have been more specific,” Gale says.  “A helping hand please?”

“Oh, right!”  You quickly take his hand in yours and tug to no avail.  

“Keep trying!”

You pull harder, wondering if you were going to end up holding a severed arm in your hand as the sigil sparks brighter and buzzes with energy.  You choose to ignore those thoughts and keep trying to free the wizard. 

With one final pull the person connected to the arm comes tumbling out of the sigil.  If it had been Tav to pull Gale free you’re certain it would have been a smooth experience, and he would have stepped back and dodged getting shoved to the ground by the sudden lack of resistance.  But it wasn’t Tav, it was you, and instead of dodging the wizard your feet tangled with each other and you both went down. 

The wind is knocked from your lungs with Gale atop you, his forehead connecting with your sternum and leaving you gasping for air.  Strands of his hair fall onto your lips, soft and smelling of something spicy while his left arm is wrapped around your middle, the other braced against the ground.  You realize he’d been trying to protect you on the way down, but wasn’t quick enough to cover the back of your head, which now throbs from the fresh battering.  

“Ouch,” you croak, voice barely making it out of your throat.  Footsteps approach until Tav, Shadowheart, and Astarion are hovering over you, each with a small smile.  Well…Astarion’s is more of a smirk…

Gale pushes himself off of you and before he can say anything Tav has his hands beneath your underarms and is pulling you up.  His hands slide to your back until you’re steady enough to stand on your own and thank him, rubbing at the back of your head again. 

Throbbing is better than stabbing, you suppose.

“Apologies,” Gale says as he smooths his hair back, “I’m usually much better at this.”

You continue to rub the back of your head as he and Tav exchange dialogue, much of it going in one ear and out the other as you focus on the pain radiating in your skull.  You squeeze your eyes shut and let your hands fall to your sides, giving in to the fact you can’t rub away whatever sensation is there.

“And you my friend.”  Gale is in front of you, drawing your gaze to meet his.  “I am truly sorry for landing on you, but extremely grateful for the help.”

You can’t stop your smile at him anymore than you could with Tav.  “Happy to help.”

His eyes stay on you a moment longer than appropriate, but when they drape down your body you think he’s almost sizing you up.  For a fight, or romance, or maybe to steal your coat you aren’t sure.

You look to Tav for direction, waiting for the leader to…well, lead.  Lae’zel should be next, but that’s when you notice you have an extra member.  With you there it makes five travellers, but nobody has been sent to camp yet.  Wherever that is.  While you’d like a moment to sit and organize your thoughts, the idea of heading somewhere on your own was terrifying. 

“I hear voices over that ridge,” Astarion announces.  Everyone turns towards where he’s looking, just a few feet ahead where the path winds up and you know you’ll find two tieflings looking at Lae’zel.  But you can’t hear them yet.

“Let’s check it out.”  Tav is already moving before anyone can object.  And like ducklings you follow him with Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope

[familyfriendlydilfartist]

Bedtime (Short)

Synopsis; you can’t fall asleep so you seek comfort.

Warnings; None

One thing everyone in camp knew was Astarion enjoyed reading. They would always catch him with his nose in a book, crimson eyes taking in every word moving slowly from the top to the bottom of the page. Astarion often held onto the books he found when looting crates and shelves during your adventures.

It was midnight and everyone was getting ready to settle down for the night. Shadowheart sat In her tent unbraiding her hair and then running a brush through her raven strands before finally heading to bed. Lae’zel sharpened the last of her weapons, a ritual she refuses to neglect. Gale lay in his tent attempting to fall asleep as he used magic to mimic rainfall white noise. Everyone else slept soundly in their tent, or so you assumed.

Well, everyone except yourself. Tonight you lacked the capacity of falling into a deep slumber.

You were kind of like Scratch. At times Scratch couldn’t sleep, too hyper to even lie down. Halsin calls this zoomies so maybe you had zoomies as well.

You lie in your own tent staring at the roof. Gods how you wish dawn would arrive sooner. You huffed sitting up, you couldn’t lie in this uncomfortable tent for much longer, it was driving you crazy. You carefully peer out from the flaps of your tent. You observed the outside. Everyone was asleep, except for one. Astarion. A warm light illuminated his red tent, outlining his shadow. He lay in his tent, with what you could tell was a heavy book.

Astarion and you shared...well could you even call it a relationship? You slept together once or twice and Astarion enjoyed flirting with you but it didn’t seem like he wanted anything more. Whenever you slept together it seemed like he wasn’t entirely there. The only time he truly took satisfaction in the act is if he was allowed a bite from your neck. You it saddened you, to say the least. You really liked Astarion, not just for his stunning look but for his charming character as a whole. However, if all he wanted was to have a fling then so be it. That wouldn’t stop you from being his good friend though.

You slowly crawled from your tent and then tiptoed over to Astarion’s tent. You weren’t hoping to surprise Astarion; his heightened senses wouldn’t allow you the luxury. Your quietness was in favor of Shadowheart and Lae’zel, two people who would stir awake at the slightest snore. Astarion had his eyes on you already, waiting for you to call out to him first.

“Astarion,” you whisper, “It’s me.”

“I could tell.” He states matter of factly, turing the page of his novel. “Whatever is the matter?”

You lower yourself to the tent opening, pushing a flap aside. “I can’t sleep, could I hang out with you?” Astarion stares at you with an unimpressed look. “Please?” you pester.

“I guess so, besides who am I to deny you the pleasure.” Astarion sighs like a bothered mother giving in to her child’s request. You grin and immediately crawl inside. You sit beside him with a silly smile on your lips. There's a silence for a moment, you trying to gain the courage to ask him questions while he read to himself.

“Whatever you want to ask go ahead, the more eager you grow to ask, the more it’ll bother me.” Astarion lowers his novel. The slightly bothered expression he wears provokes an uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You shyly mess with your nails. “Oh, well, I was just wondering what you were reading.”

“A novel about a boy venturing into vampire territory and what he has learned about my species. His assumptions are quite laughable.” Astarion’s pale pink lips quirk into a brief smile and a small laugh falls from them. “Here he states,” Astarion changes his voice into a mocking one, “One of the known weaknesses to a Vampire is garlic. Garlic will frighten a vampire, so always wear some on your neck to scare them away.”

You giggle too, “I’ve heard that one before. To be honest, I assumed you’d be scared of garlic as well because all the other tales of vampire’s weaknesses were debunked as true by you.”

Astarion shakes his head, “No, darling. It is simply the scent. Truly odorous. And if garlic were truly a weakness of vampires then Gale’s breath after dinner would be my demise.”

You both share a laugh then the silence returns.

“...Could you read to me?” you ask out of the blue. After the moment shared between the two of you before, you had hoped the question wouldn’t be answered too harshly. “-I mean, I like stories too but my mind often drifts from the pages. I prefer being read to than reading it myself and you have the perfect voice.”

Astarion contemplates for a second, observing you as he does. He taps his bed, “Fine.” You do as instructed, tugging the blanket until you’re all warm and cozy. Once you’re settled in Astarion starts on the page he stopped on. His voice is soft and relaxing. As the night goes on you finally fall into a deep slumber.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 11: What Else Would It Be?

You deal with the fallout from your ex's visit as you ring in the new year with Joel, Sarah and Tommy. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 10, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

^Again, we're pretending like this is Joel. Even though he's a little old to be Joel at this point but YOU KNOW WHAT? WE'RE GONNA GO WITH IT HBO I BEG YOU

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Joel and Goldie being dumbasses. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.1K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel was kissing you. 

He tasted like coffee and you could smell his soap on his skin and his hand was on your lower back, fingers twisting in your shirt as he held you close to him. 

He pulled back slowly, breaking the kiss for a moment before moving to press a shorter, more familiar one to your lips. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours before looking to Gale. 

“You must be the…” Joel looked him up and down. “Ex-husband. Gus, is it?” 

Gale’s jaw quirked, looking between you and Joel. 

“Gale,” he corrected. “And I’m still the husband. At least for now.” 

“Ahh, right, right,” Joel nodded, tugging you against his side with a sharp little yank. “That paperwork you keep draggin’ your feet on. Can’t say I blame you, I wouldn’t want to let this one go, either, if I were able to lock her down…” 

“Wouldn’t call it dragging my feet…” 

Joel released you then, stepping closer to Gale. You’d never realized how much taller than him Joel was, the younger man at least three or four inches larger than the older. 

“What would you call it, then?” Joel asked. “I might call it tormenting your wife because you can’t stand the fact that she’s got a life outside you after you fucked it up. But that’s me, ain’t it Georgie?”

“Don’t think what happens in my marriage is much of your business,” Gale’s voice was heated, his back a little straighter. “Don’t think I caught your name. Or who you are to my wife.” 

“Me?” Joel asked. “Oh, I’m just the one who’s been lookin’ out for her while you take out your problems on her. Don’t worry, though. She’s doing just fine with me.” 

Gale looked at you and you snapped your mouth shut, only then realizing that it was hanging open. 

“Think I’ll head on out, darling,” he said, ducking around Joel go come and stand close to you, so close you were almost touching. Your heart stuttered and you hated it. “Seems like you might have your hands full.” 

He slipped an arm around your waist, making you jump a little, and pulled you close, looking at you like he was going to kiss you the way he used to for a moment. Instead, his lips brushed your cheek, his nose tracing over your temple as he pulled back from you. 

“Let me know when you’re back home,” he said. “And think about what I said.” 

He released you and Joel took his place beside you, pulling you into him as he watched Gale leave. 

“Don’t let that door hit you on the way out,” Joel called after him, holding you tight to his side so you couldn’t follow. His grip on you loosened when the two of you heard the car door slam. “Gonna give it a minute so he has a chance to get outta here but I did come bearing ice cream…” 

“Ice cream,” you turned to look at him, incredulous, your heart still racing from when he’d kissed you. “That’s what you’re worried about right now. Ice cream.” 

He shrugged. 

“I mean, it’s melting…” 

“Jesus Christ,” you stalked off to the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Gale’s car leaving from the small window as you leaned over the sink. 

“What?” He followed behind you. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re all worked up over that…” 

Gale’s sleek, black rental car pulled onto the road, throwing dirt up behind it as it went. 

“Sorry if I fucked up whatever plans you had with that asshole,” Joel said, his voice a little heated. “But he’s a jackass and if you want to actually cross some of that shit off your list, you can’t just backslide into fucking your ex…” 

You just sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course that was the part he was worried about. 

Not that you weren’t, too. It had just fallen much further down your list of concerns since Joel had kissed you. 

You hadn’t expected Joel to show up any more than you’d expected Gale to. 

When you hung up with Joel, a smile spread over Gale’s face and he looked happy to see you. Actually happy to see you, like seeing you was making his whole day. 

You couldn’t remember the last time he looked at you like that. 

“Are you going to invite me in?” He’d asked, brows raised. 

It took you a moment to register that he’d spoken. 

“Sorry, yes, sure,” you said, stepping aside. “Come in.” 

He smiled a little and came inside your cabin, looking around with an appreciative nod. 

“You always did like your quiet spaces when you were writing,” he said, making his way into your living room. “I remember when you were working on Halcyon, how you’d sometimes sit at the back of the closet, lights out, with just your laptop…” 

“It kept you from distracting me,” you smiled a little at the memory, that time seeming so close but so far away. “Speaking of which… what are you doing here?” 

“Distracting you,” he threw a small smile over his shoulder to you. You rolled your eyes but smiled a little back in spite of yourself. “I meant it when I said I missed you. My life’s been…” he paused for a moment. “Dim without you.” 

“Says volumes about Carla’s sparkling wit,” you said wryly, feeling bad almost the second it was out of your mouth. She was young, naive. She didn’t deserve you mocking her when she couldn’t even defend herself. 

But Gale laughed once. 

“I can’t say anyone’s ever put me through my paces quite like you, doll,” he said. “I didn’t know how I’d miss being challenged until I wasn’t anymore.” 

“You never liked when I challenged you,” you said. 

“No,” he nodded. “But, turns out… I like being blindly adored even less.” 

You scoffed at that. 

“I mean it,” he said, stepping close to you, close enough that you could smell is cologne. “Turns out, I need someone like you. Someone who can see me, see my flaws, challenge me, push me to be my best. I need someone who is smart and, believe it or not, intelligence isn’t the prerequisite for ivy league admittance you’d think it is. You’re one of the only people I know who is smart enough to keep me on my toes.” 

He reached out, brushing some unseen dust from your shoulder and then trailing his fingers over your neck. 

“I need you,” he said, so close to you now that you felt the familiar tug at the base of your chest, the way he’d always pulled you into his orbit. How you’d wanted to kiss him so badly in his office when you’d been young and desperately lonely and he seemed to understand you through your words the way no one had before. How you wanted to kiss him now because you hadn’t been kissed in so long. 

You swallowed, hard. 

“Tea?” You said quickly before you did something you’d regret later. You turned to head to the kitchen before he could respond. “I was just about to make myself a cup…” 

You could practically hear him smirk. 

“Sure,” he said. “You always did love your tea.” 

You made his tea just the way he liked it, Earl Grey with a splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar, placing it in front of the seat he’d taken at the table. You sat across from him, hoping that some distance would help, trying to focus on the flavor of the tea you’d chosen - ginger peach - and the thick sweetness of honey on your tongue. 

“So,” Gale said after a moment, setting his mug in front of him and crossing his arms on the tabletop. “Tell me about this book.” 

You considered not talking to him about it for a moment. Writing had always felt so intimate to you, sharing it in any form while it was in process was mortifying. Gale had been the only person you’d ever been able to bear looking at your work before it was done and he’d always made it better. But he was nothing to you now, just a man who said he loved you once. 

Who was making it sound like he might love you again. How could you share this story with him? How could you not? 

“Well,” you sighed before you felt like you’d really made up your mind. “It’s about a marriage…” 

Gale drifted closer to you as you walked him through the story, how it had already changed over the few days you’d been working on the thing, where you wanted it to go. Before too long, he was beside you, his fingers trailing over your bicep to your elbow and back again. 

“I really have missed that mind of yours,” he said when you trailed off. His eyes were hungry on you, his body warm next to your own and, for half a moment, you wanted to kiss him and feel him against you and remember what it was to be desired for a while. 

But when he leaned toward you, something inside you shifted. 

Yes, you were lonely. Not in the same way you’d been lonely when you’d gone away to college and met Gale the first time - you had Joel now, after all - but lonely in a way that you were acutely aware that you were no one’s and no one was yours. You knew that, before too long, Joel would cross “stable relationship” off his list and you couldn’t just show up at his house and climb in his bed so you weren’t crying into your pillowcase in the dark when things went wrong. He would have his hands full with whoever he decided to actually stick with and Sarah. Anna would have her new baby. You’d be on your own. It was inevitable, the sword of Damocles waiting for love to take the people you cared for most on to their own lives that had little to do with you. Gale had been the only person who had ever, truly, been yours. Falling back into him was tempting for that reason alone but… He wasn’t who you wanted. 

You’d never tried to love your husband when Joel was near. You should have known that your feelings for Joel would drown out everything else, that you’d never have a hope of wanting someone else when he was there. And, as Gale leaned in to kiss you, all you could think was that he smelled wrong. 

He smelled like cologne and leather and something artificial that you couldn’t place. You’d liked that smell once. Now, it fell short. You wanted sawdust and soap with hints of sweat and chlorine. You wanted Joel.

But… Gale was still someone. And someone was better than no one. 

“Gale…” you said softly. 

And then there was the knock at your door and then Joel was there, kissing you like it was nothing and picking a fight with your soon-to-be ex-husband. 

“I wasn’t planning on getting back together with him,” you said, turning to face Joel, your back against the sink and your fingers gripping the counter as you tried to think about something - anything - beyond how he’d tasted when he’d kissed you. How his hair would feel between your fingers as you pulled him closer. 

“Good,” Joel said, standing opposite you in the galley kitchen, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms as he did. “Because that man is nothing but bad for you, Goldie.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“What?” He asked, incredulous. “I mean it…” 

“You didn’t know me when we were actually together,” you said. “We were actually a really great couple…” 

“Oh yeah,�� he scoffed, shaking his head. “Sure you two had a ton in fuckin’ common…” 

“We did!” You protested. “I know you hate him on principle and I’m not about to ask you to stop but he’s really not a bad guy. I just… I couldn’t make it work.” 

Joel squared his jaw, looking like he wanted to fight you about it, but instead, he just sighed. 

“He gone?” He nodded to the window. You nodded once. “Good. I’ll go get the shit from the truck, back in a sec…” 

When you heard the front door close, your fingers traced your lips, ghosting over where Joel had kissed you as you tried to shake the longing in your chest before your best friend came back inside. 

***

“OK but it’s just one glass,” Sarah rolled her eyes at Joel from across the hot tub.

“And you’re 11,” Joel said. 

“But it’s New Year’s Eve!” She protested, treading water lightly even though it was so shallow she could barely go all the way under at all. 

“And you’re still 11,” Joel said. “You don’t need to have a glass of champagne.” 

“No one needs a glass of champagne,” she rolled her eyes again. 

“I might if I have to listen to you two fight anymore,” Tommy said. 

“Amen,” you replied, reaching across the hot tub with your beer bottle to toast him. Tommy reached back with his own and the two of you met in the middle, glass clinking together. 

“See, Goldie,” Tommy said. “Been saying I need someone else around to survive these two…” 

“Please,” Sarah scoffed. “I’m pretty sure I knew how to make breakfast before you did. I think you need us to survive, not the other way around.” 

You laughed and Joel watched you do it, trying not think too much about your lips and how they’d felt against him. As if he’d been able to stop thinking about that since he’d kissed you. 

“It don’t matter who needs what,” Joel said. “You’re 11, you’re not drinkin’ alcohol. You can have that entire bottle of sparkling cider…” 

“But what if I wanted a glass?” You asked, pouting a little. 

“Fine,” Joel sighed, knowing you were just making things difficult but too happy to humor you to call you on it. “You can have almost the entire bottle of sparkling cider. You can’t have champagne.” 

“You’re no fun,” Sarah slumped back, face scrunched, as the bubbles got the ends of her curls wet. 

“That’s what they call me,” Joel said. “No fun Dad.” 

“At least he lets you stay up until midnight,” you said, taking another sip of beer. “I didn’t get to do that until I was a teenager.” 

“See?” Joel nudged Sarah with his foot. “I could be worse.” 

“I guess,” she sighed dramatically before closing her eyes and resting her head back against the hot tub. 

You just looked at Joel and smiled a little and Joel tried to keep his eyes from drifting down to your cleavage that sat just below the water. Because he had to stop thinking about you that way. He had to.

He couldn’t have been more grateful for his brother and daughter’s arrival earlier that day. He’d pulled Tommy aside as soon as he showed Sarah her room and gave her a minute to get settled, pulling him onto the back patio where they’d have some privacy. 

“What the hell…” 

“I kissed Goldie,” Joel hissed, looking furtively back toward the house before looking at Tommy. 

“Wait what?” Tommy yelped and Joel was ready to strangle him. 

“Shh!” 

“Sorry!” Tommy whispered. “You did what? You kissed Goldie?” 

“Yeah,” Joel whispered back. 

“When?” 

“Yesterday, when I first got here…” 

“And all the time since, right?” 

Joel glared at his brother. 

“What?” Tommy said. “Reasonable question…” 

“Fuck off,” Joel said. “I can’t do this again, Tommy, I can’t lose her again because I wasn’t able to… Look. This can’t happen again, OK?” 

“OK,” Tommy said, voice calm. “So don’t do it again, seems easy enough…” 

“It’s not that simple,” Joel said. Tommy just raised his eyebrows at him and Joel sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about it, man. I kissed her. I kissed her…”

“It was just a kiss though, right?” Tommy said. “Not like you two fucked.” 

“No…” 

“So?” Tommy shrugged again. “It was a kiss. What are you, 12? It’s not the end of the world, man. So you fucked up, you kissed your best friend, shit happens…” 

“And it can’t happen again,” Joel said. 

“So don’t do it again. I can be a buffer if that’s what you need,” Tommy said. “But it’s just a kiss. Hate to say it but… grow a pair, man.” 

“Right,” Joel nodded slowly. He knew you weren’t overthinking this like he was, he knew it wouldn’t have meant anything to you and he needed to keep just playing it cool and pretending like he could think about anything else. “I just… you’re right. It was a mistake, it won’t happen again, I’m done doing stupid shit with her and then regretting it…” 

The door to the porch creaked, making Joel jump. 

“Hey guys?” You were standing there, looking between the two of them. “You up for a game of Mario Kart? Sarah’s getting the Switch set up…” 

“Yeah,” Joel forced a smile. “Be right there.” 

Joel sat on the opposite end of the couch from you, Tommy stuck in the middle and Sarah on the floor as the four of you played. 

He’d been straining to keep his distance from you since he got here. He shouldn’t have fucking kissed you. That was a mistake, the kind that could wreck his life if he wasn’t careful. What if you just took off again because he couldn’t keep his shit together? What if he had to find a way to excise you from his life again? 

That had been hard enough when you were both kids, it would be impossible now. It had only been a few short months but already he wasn’t sure how he’d survived without you. You were a fixture in his world now, the absence of you for all those years more acute now that he knew what he’d been missing that whole time. You could have been there with him if he’d just acted like a fucking adult and had some self control on prom night but he didn’t. Instead, he’d been a dumbass and he’d paid the price for that for years. He wasn’t about to let that happen again. 

But you were here, so close, close enough that he could touch you and hear you and fucking smell you. 

And he was sure that the plan had been for the two of you to share a room at the cabin. Why wouldn’t you? You shared one at home all the time, Joel sleeping so much more soundly when he could feel you settling into him as you drifted off. When you fell asleep, he always nuzzled into the top of your head as you used his chest as a pillow, taking advantage of the fact that you were unconscious to breathe you in and commit you to memory. He usually woke up curled around your back, your arms stretched far in front of you and your legs tangled in the sheets, nestled into your pillow instead of his skin. The nights you weren’t there, he pulled that pillow from your side of the bed close and held it like he wanted to hold onto you and tried to pretend it wasn’t the most fucking pathetic thing he’d ever done. 

The night after he’d kissed you, the two of you had slept in separate beds. That alone was almost enough to make him regret it.

But what the fuck else was he supposed to do when he saw you there in the grip of that asshole you’d been married to? That guy who’d been dragging you through divorce proceedings so roughly that you’d come over and just cried into Joel’s shoulder twice since you’d moved back. That guy who didn’t seem like he was content unless you were under his control. 

He was the kind of man who wouldn’t respect that you just said no. But he might respect another man’s claim so he’d kissed you. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. 

Or that’s what he told himself it was. That it wasn’t a selfish excuse to do the one thing he’d been wanting to do for fucking weeks. 

Tommy and Sarah being here made it easier to stay away from you, at least. While the two of you had long since stopped acting like you didn’t share a room when you slept over, he had done his best to maintain some semblance of boundaries with you in front of Sarah. Fewer casual touches, no just holding you close because you were near him on the couch and he knew you wouldn’t mind. He didn’t want to confuse his daughter and make her think there was more to this than there was. When Tommy and Sarah were there, he didn’t need to find a reason to keep his distance. When Tommy and Sarah were there, he didn’t need to lie to himself and pretend that he wasn’t fighting to keep from kissing you again. 

He’d thought, at first, that he’d at least been able to dodge talking about it. That he’d played it cool enough that he’d thought the reasoning was obvious. But, once you were done angrily texting your agent to demand how Gale had gotten this address to begin with and had a few glasses of wine in you after dinner, you sat on the opposite end of the couch from Joel, a bowl of pecan praline ice cream balanced on your knees as you watched him closely. 

“What?” He asked, raising his brows at you. 

“Why did you do that?” You asked. 

“Do what?” 

“Kiss me.” 

You said it so plainly, as though you were asking why he ordered spaghetti at dinner or why he painted his living room sage green. 

“I know you think I hate your ex for no reason,” he said. “But I have a reason. I’ve seen how he’s been hurting you. Didn’t want him to think you were just his for the taking so…” 

He shrugged. 

“And that’s…” you paused for a moment, glancing to the side before looking back at him. “That’s the only reason?” 

His heart sped up. 

“Course it is,” he said, looking back at the movie you’d put on that he hadn’t been paying any damn attention to before, either. “What else would it be?” 

“Right,” you’d said. “You’re right.” 

Tommy and Sarah being there was a mercy. It saved him from more of those conversations. 

Even if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. 

“We should think about heading inside,” you said, glancing at your phone. “It’s only an hour to midnight, figure we’d like to all be nice and dry by the time the countdown starts.” 

“Yeah, my first champagne toast should really be done in dry clothes,” Sarah said sagely. 

“No champagne,” Joel said. “But yes, dry clothes. Let’s go, kiddo.” 

She groaned and you and Tommy laughed and at least Joel could take comfort in the fact that he’d figured out this part of his life. He could do this, if he really focused on it. He could just take care of his daughter and just be friends with you and just keep an eye on his little brother. He didn’t need to be anything more to you. He could live with that. 

If that’s what it took to keep you in his life at all? He could really, really live with that. 

The four of you made your way inside and got changed into pajamas before gathering around the TV to watch people partying around the country, the adults starting in on the champagne and Sarah sipping her cider with her pinky extended. 

“So,” you said. “What’s everyone excited for in 2023?” 

“Taylor Swift,” Sarah said automatically. 

You laughed. 

“Alright, maybe that was too easy,” you said. “What’s everyone thankful for going into 2023?” 

“Still Taylor Swift,” Sarah said and you laughed again. “But really… probably getting to play soccer and stuff with my best friends. And Swiftie. She’s the best cat in the world.” 

“Those are good,” you nodded, looking to Tommy. “You?” 

“I’m thankful there are still women in Austin willing to go on dates with me,” Tommy said. Joel snorted and Tommy elbowed him in the ribs. “What about you, Goldie?” 

“I’m thankful that I’m someplace I can put down some roots again,” you said. “And that I won’t need to up and move in 2023.” You turned toward Joel, your head cocked and a soft smile on your face and he could remember how you tasted a little like honey when he kissed you. “Joel?” 

“Thankful for Sarah, of course,” he said. Sarah rolled her eyes. “What, baby girl? I am.” 

“Something besides me,” she said. “We all know I’m a gift…” 

“Christ your teenage years are gonna be rough with that ego,” Joel sighed and Sarah laughed. “But… I dunno… probably just having Goldie back in Texas. Hasn’t been the same without her here.” 

“Joel,” you looked at him, a little misty eyed. “Really?” 

“Course,” he smiled a little. “I missed you, Goldie Girl.” 

You smiled back. 

“I missed you, too.” 

“The countdown is up!” Sarah jumped to her feet and pointed at the icon in the corner. “Just a minute left!” 

The adults all got to their feet and pressed closer to the TV screen, watching as the numbers got lower and lower and the year that you’d come back to Joel grew closer and closer to being in the past. 

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” 

The four of you cheered and hugged and toasted and drank and Sarah pressed herself against Joel’s side, giving him a squeeze. 

“Love you, Dad,” she said quietly. 

“Love you, too, Kiddo,” he said, kissing the crown of her head and squeezing her back. 

She pulled away from him to go hug Tommy and Joel looked to you, finding you watching the screen with your eyes rimmed in tears, champagne glass half empty in your grip. You didn’t seem to notice that Joel was watching you, downing the rest of your drink in one go before setting the glass down on the coffee table and heading for the back door. 

Joel glanced back at Sarah and Tommy, a frown on his brother’s face but his daughter seemingly oblivious to the fact that you’d just left. Joel jerked his head toward the door and Tommy gave him a single nod as Joel followed you into the backyard. 

He didn’t see you at first. You weren’t on the patio or the deck and then, in the glow of a firework that someone set off from across the lake behind the cabin, he saw you, staring out from the water’s edge. 

He went over to you and you didn’t seem to notice him, frozen as you looked at the lake. 

“Goldie?” Joel asked as he got close, not wanting to spook you. You jumped anyway. “Sorry, wasn’t tryin’ to scare you.” 

“It’s OK,” you said, smiling tightly at him as he took his place at your side. “I’m just jumpy, apparently.” 

“You alright?” He asked, standing close enough to you that he could feel the warmth of you. “You kinda blew outta there and it’s cold out here…” 

“I’m fine,” you said, looking back out at the water. “Just… needed some air.” 

“Air,” Joel said, trying to hide the skepticism in his voice. Another firework cracked over the lake, the sparks of it reflected on the water. “You sure that’s it?” 

You looked over at him again, your arms crossed tightly in front of you. Another firework and he could see the fog of your breath in front of your lips. 

“Partially,” you smiled a little again before looking back to the water and taking a deep breath. “But… it’s also that this is the second year that I’m alone on New Year’s Eve. Second year I’m starting things off on my own. Second year I can’t even find some random guy to kiss me at a party…” 

“You’re not alone,” Joel said gently. “You’ve got me n’Sarah…” 

“It’s not the same,” you said. “But the thought is sweet, though.” 

“It’s not like last year,” he said. “It’s going to be different…” 

“Because things are going to magically get better?” You asked, turning to face him, your brows raised. “Because you’re going to just invent someone who’s going to actually want me so you can help me cross off my check list?” 

“Goldie…” You winced, closing your eyes tightly for a moment and taking a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you waved him off. “None of this is your fault, I don’t know why I’m taking it out on you, it’s not fair to you. You’re right, it is different now and I’m so thankful I have you and Sarah and even Tommy. I just… I wish I had someone who wanted to kiss me at midnight, you know?” 

Joel’s throat was dry, so dry that he couldn’t seem to form the words he so desperately wanted to say. 

“Sorry,” you said again. “We should get back before Sarah notices…” 

You turned to go, dropping your arms and heading back up the short hill toward the cabin but Joel caught your wrist, pulling you back toward him. You frowned a little, facing him and looking between where he was holding you and his face. 

“I know it’s not what you want it to be,” he said, reaching out slowly to gently cup your cheek. “But… I think friends can kiss for New Year’s, right?” 

“Right,” you said, a little breathless, your eyes wide. “Friends.”

“Right,” Joel whispered back, dropping your wrist to wrap his arm around your back and pull you against him, making your back arch as you pressed your body into his. “Friends.”

His eyes searched yours, waiting for you to object or to push him away, but you didn’t. Instead, he got closer and closer to you, until his eyes were closed and his lips were against yours and, for the second time in as many days, he kissed you. 

For the second time in as many days, he didn’t want to stop.

Next Chapter

A/N: I mean I think we all knew I wasn't going to let them get together so soon, right?

Right??

OK, cool.

But I promise, this is going to have repercussions very, very soon in this fic. I love these two and their push pull and I'm so sorry but I'm going to torment you all with it, too. OK?

Thanks for being here! Love you!!

[brotherwtf]

I should be working but instead my every thought is consumed by these tragic little gay men! All seriousness though would really love some Gale riding John, John looking worshipfully up at him promising to give him whatever he needs, “everything, anything don’t stop baby” style… I just feel service top/topping from the bottom John in my SOUL. Of course Gale is an incoherent, pleasure chasing mess to match. I just want them desperate, messy, and deeply obsessed with each other. Please and thank you!

me every goddamn day I will never be free from their fuckery

and ANON??? THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL PROMPT OMG IM FERAL IM BITING THINGS

----

"Fuck, FUCK, Gale you're so fucking pretty, God you're so fucking pretty," John whines and Gale knows he gone.

He pushes John down to the bed, hands on his shoulders as he grinds back onto his cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he moans open mouthed. From this position with John's hair fanned out on the bed, he looks even more pathetic than usual.

"Yeah? You like that baby? You like when I take control? Fuck, God John you feel so good," Gale groans, uses John's shoulders as leverage to push back onto his cock, looking back over his shoulder to see John desperately rutting his hips up into him, trying to get any sort of pleasure from him.

Gale can barely think, but the glazed over look of John's eyes proves that Johns not much better, hands messily finding Gale's ass to aid in pushing him back down, lube messy and loud from how messily John fucked into Gale's hole. It's so wet, so hot, so good, and Gale's loopy with it.

"Fuck, you're so good for me, you're so fucking good. All mine, huh? Your cocks all mine," Gale says, grinding down even harder, thighs clenching from the pressure.

John looks like a man in worship, mouth lolled open and eyes trained on Gale's, nodding desperately to the words, biting his lip as he moans at Gale's new speed. It's fast, fast and good, and Gale's going delirious with it.

"Yes, yes, all yours. Don't stop, baby, please don't stop," John begs and Gale hangs his head, moaning in tandem with John now.

Gale moans when John messily thrusts up, reaching even deeper than when Gale was only grinding. It's so good, it's so fucking good, and Gale's so close.

"I'm close, John, please, give it to me, give it to me John," Gale whimpers and John whines alongside him, hands moving up to grip his waist, fingertips spanning across his lower back.

"Anything, everything, doll, fuck I'm close too," John groans, throwing his head back to expose his neck.

Gale can't help himself from bending over, more collapsing than anything, and placing a wet kiss on John's neck, licking and sucking as John thrusts messily up into him. He moans continuously, hands gripping on John's shoulders as he shudders through his orgasm, come spilling between where their stomachs are pressed together.

John keeps fucking into him, though, something brutal and desperate and Gale can't help the embarrassing sounds that spill from his mouth, high pitched and pathetic as John just won't let up, won't stop fucking him. It's too much, it's almost too much.

John finally comes with a prolonged groan, hands gripping even tighter on Gale's waist until it's almost bruising, body tense and tight before he melts into the sheets, throwing his head back as he groans in pleasure.

"Good, huh? Sweet boy," Gale mutters, pushing a stray lock from John's forehead and pressing a gentle kiss to it, smiling when John still hasn't said anything snarky or stupid in return.

"God, Gale, I'm so fucking lucky to have you," John says and doesn't give Gale a chance to speak before he wraps his arms around Gales shoulders and pulls him in for a sweet kiss.

[sigcorp]

bg3 characters as retail managers in my boyfriend's* educated opinion

(*he refuses to post this so i'm doing it for him)

wyll - i think wyll would be a really chill manager, he'd let you goof off sometimes But after a while he'd still make you go do something productive. probably would have some random assignment like dusting the fucking lights or something if there's nothing to do but he's not too strict.

would get mad at a customer once and you'd be thankful you never have faced his fury (he'd never get that mean with you though)

basically the "haha yeah okay okay guys seriously go zone we can't all be standing here you're gonna get me in trouble" type of manager

lae'zel - insane workaholic. you'd dread working with her and she'd make your shift exhausting, but you also can't deny the place would go to shit without her because she's so on top of things.

you'd feel immense joy having her come up for a stupid item return that is against policy because she would absolutely never bend for it no matter how bitchy the customer got. not because she cares about you really but she'd be damned to go against policy for literally anything

karlach - literally so chill that you forget she's a manager until she has to call you to her office which freaks you out because you know you've been extremely lax around her and you forgot she actually has to do shit about that but it's actually just to give you your next raise. you love her and she loves you

shadowheart - when you first work with her you find her insanely intimidating and a little bitchy but after a few shifts you kind of get Why she's like that. wouldn't be a favorite manager but you'd probably sympathize with why she buys wine after her shift every night. if you're lucky enough to hang with her out of work you get special privileges (as in she doesn't scold you for standing still for 3 minutes like she does the others)

gale - nice, but unlike wyll who has a balance between pleasant chats and doing work, gale will literally stand there and accidentally force you to actually stop focusing on what you're working on to have a conversation with him. that can be a good thing, but then you're behind and another manager gets grumpy about it. chill guy but you never actually see him do much for his job. how did he even get to this position???

astarion - call HR.

halsin - dude knows how to run a place. he schedules everyone perfectly and there's always a feeling of harmony as you work together to get projects done. he's friendly but focused. he doesn't care if you don't finish your projects he assigns you so long as you were trying your best, but he would be a little disappointed if it happened too often

i feel like he'd definitely be the manager who actually gives the customer whatever they want even if you said you couldn't though 💀 he wouldn't be mad at you for saying no but he'd make you look like a jackass to the customer

minthara - i actually don't know her so idk but from what i gather i would say also call HR

withers - he's been with this company so long that he knows where literally everything is and every single specific policy and how to solve everything. he doesn't talk much and he doesn't really tell you what to do, he expects you to figure it out and leave him alone unless you need to ask where the most obscure item of all time is to help a customer. genuine lifesaver in those circumstances though

jaheira - the mom manager. checks on you when she notices you're clearly not feeling well. will cover any shift without complaints. you feel safe with her. she handles any difficult task because she doesn't feel like explaining to you how to do it, which is nice but as soon as you have no choice but to do it on your own you don't know how