#wyll and karlach come at a close close second

[scratchandfriends]

Apologies and Insecurities (+18)

Pairing: Gale Dekarios x Female Tav

WC: 2400

Summary: You’re so sick and tired of hearing about your lover’s toxic ex. It comes to a head and you’re ready to either break it off or kill him, he finally comes to his senses. 

*author’s note* let’s assume mama Karlach has had her second upgrade and can touchy feely, yes?

TW: SMUT! Praise kink, good boy Gale, unprotected sex, attempted murder? Arguments, make up sex, cream pies, oral sex f receiving, fingering, love making idk?

— — 

The party had made camp early. The sun was still out, but just starting to make its gentle dive into the horizon. 

Shadowheart, Astarion, and Wyll were seated side by side on a fallen log being used as a makeshift bench at the campfire circle. 

The smell of cooking meats wafted throughout the camp. The unlikely trio shared a bottle of stolen Elsmetar Red as they watched the evening’s entertainment unfold. 

*wOOOOOOsh* *rip* *THWACK* 

The sound of an arrow piercing tent fabric and lodging firmly into an oak tree rung out. 

“OH right, Gale, SURE! Just the same as it is every time!” Tav, bow in hand storms around the rocky outcropping obscuring Gale’s tent from the rest of the camp. Her footsteps stomp across the dirt, headed back to her own tent, kicking up pebbles in her wake. Tav’s face was bright red and her knuckles were ivory white from the tight grip she had on her weapon. 

“My darling, please!” The wizards voice sounded both apologetic and irritated resonating from behind the rocks as he exited his tent to follow. “It’s really nothing! I don’t see why you’re turning this into-“

“You don’t? Famed “wizard of waterdeep” fails to see the reason his lover is upset?” Tav huffs, still making a beeline across the camp, not even bothering to turn around. “Arcane knowledge can’t replace common sense, it seems.” 

*ppfftt* Astarion spits out a sip of wine, desperately trying to hide the sound of his chuckle. 

“Wow, a storm cloud hovers closely over the island of paradise it seems.” Wyll comments softly with raised eyebrows. 

“Will you shut up? I want to see if she kills him this time.” Shadowheart remarks, taking a sip of wine and enjoying the show. 

“If you can’t appreciate a bit of commentary, you don’t know good theatre.” Astarion says, smugly. “What do you think he did? Said Mystra’s name at the peak of climax? Bit her hand when slurping down another amulet?” 

“You’re terrible.” Wyll scolds while taking a drink. “… I’d put 50 gold on the first one.” 

Astarion smirks and holds out his hand. “Shake on it.” 

Wyll clasped Astarion’s pallid hand with a guilty looking grin. 

“Sweet love, all I asked is if you wanted a piece of cheese!” Gale pleads as he speed walks to keep up with Tav (running wasn’t his strong suit). 

Tav spins around on her heels and comes to a stop. 

“NO, you didn’t ‘ask if I wanted a piece of cheese!’” Tav yells, eyes wild. “You said ‘here, have a piece, you love blue cheese.’” She continues to seethe. “I FUCKING HATE BLUE CHEESE!” 

“I merely forgot! You can’t put an arrow through my chest because I had forgotten what kind of cheese you prefer!” Gale says, exasperated. 

“You said you knew I loved it! That’s not me! That’s stupid fucking Mystra, you gods-damned ignoramus!” Tav rushes towards her lover, angry tears pricking the corners of her eyes from the frustration. 

“If you had told me the wizard would die over a slice of Roquefort, I’d have sent you to the healers.” Astarion says with a smirk. “This is good.” 

“Should we be worried? Do you think the orb will explode if she kills him? Should we leave?” Wyll asks. 

“If that’s the way I die, so be it. This is too rich to miss.” Shadowheart says as she sits up further in interest. 

“Darling I must protest. I cannot thrive under these ridiculous expectations. You’re stifling me with your constant accusations! It’s been an age since Mystra and I promise I-“ Gale’s expression turns from apologetic to angry. 

“You just don’t fucking get it, do you? You can’t-” 

*THUMP*

The camp was silent. 

Shadowheart and Astarion gasp. 

“He did NOT just magically silence her, did he?” Wyll says with raised brows. 

“Oh he’s positively done for.” Astarion remarks with a devilish giggle. 

The trio watched Tav emote and scream in complete silence due to the magical effects cast by her wizard. She grips an arrow from her quiver and loads it into her bow. 

Just as she pulls the string back another voice echoed throughout the camp. 

“ALLright Soldier, that’s enough of that.” Karlach had emerged from her own tent and approached Tav’s raging form. “Come on, no murdering our friends.” 

Karlach bends down, scoops Tav up by her waist and throws her over her broad shoulder. 

“You’re going for a dunk in the river to cool off. If you still can’t play nice after that, we’ll have to try something else.” Karlach says as she affectionally pats Tav’s leg draped over her glowing chest. Tav silently kicks and screams in protest as the tiefling carries her much smaller body off into the woods. 

“Aww. Such an unsatisfying finale.” Astarion pouts as he takes another sip of wine. 

— — 

After a long soak in the cool river and a heated venting session with Karlach, your temper had subsided along with the searing sunlight of the day. You had forgone the normal revelry of an evening at camp to brood alone in your tent. Most of your companions had gone to bed you could only hear the dirge of crickets from the forest outside your tent. 

You stared at the peaked, cloth ceiling of your tent as you laid on your beck on your bedroll. You had been trying to sleep, but the anxious gnawing of your argument with Gale and the frustration of feeling like you’d always be second best were keeping your eyes pried open. 

How could you ever compare to a literal goddess? 

She was powerful. Beautiful. Inspirational. Celestial. 

Was he thinking of her every time he laid with you?

Tears threatened to form in the outer corners of your eyes again but you blinked them away. You hugged a pillow close to your chest to comfort yourself as you rolled onto your side. You let out a long sigh. 

As you gazed towards the opening of your tent, you see a flutter of movement agains the fabric near the door. After you watch whatever it was take a few fumbling brushes against the outside of the tent, the tent flaps separate and you see something enter your tent. You sit up on instinct and reach for your bow. 

Your heart rate slows when you see a translucent blue hand holding a large, beautiful, albeit clumsily put together, bouquet of daisies and baby’s breath. You snort a laugh, but make no move to accept the flowers. 

The hand wiggles the arrangement in your direction tentatively. You reach out and roll your eyes. You take the flowers from the magical, disembodied hand and set them at the side of your bed roll. 

“You can come in, Gale.” You say loudly. 

As if by magic, Gale steps sheepishly through your tent flaps and makes sure they’re closed properly behind him. 

“Good evening.” He says with a soft smile, standing awkwardly. 

“Thank you for the flowers.” You say after an uncomfortable silence. You swallow. “Come, sit.” You pat the bedroll across from your seated form. Gale sits gingerly across from you, his body not facing you fully, not wanting to seem too familiar. 

“I shouldn’t have tried to shoot you with an arrow. That was an ov-“ You begin. 

“No.” Gale interrupts you. “I will accept no apologies, for I am the one who is here to make amends.” 

You quiet yourself. You were the one who flew off the handle over cheese, for gods sake. You couldn’t form words. 

“Tav, I was being selfish. I didn’t think of the way you felt, being with someone whose last lover was a god. I was only thinking of myself… something I’ve been apt to do in relationships…” Gale hangs his head. “Something I need to be kept accountable for. It wasn’t about the cheese, I know that now.” Gale turns and looks into your eyes. “I come here to beg you for another chance.” 

“You needn’t beg, Gale.” You smile sympathetically. “Of course I’ll give you another chance. Daisies are my favorite flower, after all.” You reach out and take his hand in yours. 

“So you’ll give this old, bumbling wizard another shot at love?” Gale grins and squeezes your fingers in his. 

“Old bumbling wizard? Elminster is here?” You jest. 

“Thankfully no. It’s just you and I, my love… always.” Gale chuckles before reaching out with his free arm and pulling you close. “You’ll let me prove how deep my love for you is, yes?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your body and gently pushing you to lay back on your bedroll. 

“I’ll allow it.” You say playfully as Gale hovered above you. 

Gale hums and lifts your tunic over your head, you sit up to help him in the process. You go ahead and shimmy down your trousers, leaving your body completely bare on your mattress. Gale’s face is immediately buried in your neck, littering it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. His stubble scraped your flesh and your hips twitched in response. 

“How lucky am I…” Gale murmurs into your neck. “… that I get to have you like this…” He brings his hand up to squeeze your breast roughly, the way he knows you like. You moan softly at his touch. 

His kisses trail down your sternum while smooth, uncalloused hands pinched and twisted at your nipples. Hands never leaving your sensitive chest, Gale kissed above your navel, then your lower abdomen, then your mound before nuzzling his face into the coarse patch of hair here. The wizard takes a deep inhale. 

“So lovely, as always my sweet. Can’t wait to taste you…” Gale pulls his hands from your breasts and uses them to push your thighs apart as he settles himself between your legs. “Mmmmmph..” He moans even louder than you do as he delves his tongue between your lower lips. 

“Shit-“ You sigh out and instinctively tangle your right hand into Gale’s brown locks. 

And just like that, all transgressions and arguments were slingshotted out of your mind. The way his lips closed around your sensitive clit and suckled gently had your eyes rolling back in your head. You bring your left hand to grip your own breast, losing yourself in the pleasure Gale was bestowing upon you. You grind your hips further upward into his face, met with contented hums from deep in his chest. 

“You taste so sweet.. could drink you forever, darling…” Gale mumbles as he comes up for air, placing a gentle, wet kiss on your inner thigh. He shifts his position so he can bring two fingers and rub them messily up and down your slit. Your body jolts every time they brush your clit. “My my, what a sight.” Gale smirks before pushing those two digits into your sopping hole. He immediately curls them upward to pull and tap on your favorite spot. “Need you to cum for me, love… let go for me….” He coos before returning his lips to your clit. 

You cry out and arch your back. Your walls start clenching involuntarily and you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen.

“Fuck- just.. like- that-! Ah!” You dig your nails into Gale’s scalp as you reach your climax. You barely notice the slowing of the wizard’s fingers inside you as you ride out your orgasm. Your eyes flutter closed and you try to catch your breath. “Good boy.” You pant out with a dazed grin on your face, still staring at the ceiling of your tent. 

The bedroll shifts and you feel a soft hand pull your legs apart. 

Gale had shed his clothing and was now between your legs on his knees, straddling one of your legs while hauling the other over his shoulder. 

“You can’t say things like that…” Gale warns as he uses his hand that wasn’t holding your leg to his chest to guide his leaking cockhead through your soaking folds. “You know what that does to me…” He whispers as he slowly rubs his tip across your clit. 

You smirk and rake your nails down his chest. 

“Maybe I do…” You buck your hips, wordlessly begging him to enter you. 

Gale can’t resist the wetness of your sex any longer and pushes his member inside of you slowly and deliberately. You both let out relieved gasps as your hips become flush with each others. Without pulling out completely, your lover slowly grinds himself into you, pelvis rubbing your clit with every movement. 

You feel a gentle kiss pressed to the side of your knee. 

“Gods you’re fucking gorgeous. So perfect…” Gale praises as he brings a hand to pinch your nipple. 

Completely lost in pleasure, you arch your back and moan, not caring if anyone else in the camp hears you… they had already heard you argue earlier, this couldn’t be much worse. “Gale!” You cry out. 

“Yes love, I’m yours. Only yours.” Gale pants out between rough thrusts, the allure of his own end overwhelming him. “I love you, only you..” He drops your leg from his shoulder and leans over you, capturing your open lips in a searing kiss. 

“I’m-“ You whimper out, breaking the kiss after a few moments, feeling the tension in your sex threaten to release. 

“I know, I know, me too…” Gale huffs, forehead pressing against yours. 

“I love you.” You say as you grip Gale’s hair again, keeping him as close as you could physically have him. He continues grinding his member vigorously against the most sensitive spot inside of you. Your pleasure crested and you tipped over the edge with a cry. 

“I love you.” Gale mirrors and grunts before his hips stutter and you feel him pumping you full of white hot spend. Once the twitches of his cock slowed, he slumped over to your side and pulled your panting body into his chest. 

“So… you’re staying here tonight?” You ask as you draw lazy patterns on Gale’s back with your fingernails. 

“Oh without a doubt. Astarion was still up when I came in here. Called me names the entire time. There’s no way I’m going out and looking at his smug face now.” Gale says. 

“Such a plagued, little wizard you are.” You tease. 

“Plagued, yes. Little, no.” Gale protests. “I think you can attest to that.” He says with a charming smile. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.” You roll your eyes. 

[elusiveclownbox]

it’s honestly so funny to me, thinking back about how I originally got interested in bg3 due to astarion,,,and then I ended up restarting halfway through his romance because I fell more in love with gale💀 and then I found out the fandom calls gale ANNOYING

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[lendeah]

No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia.

Summary: Astarion is very much not jealous of Gale being your magic teacher. And he is definitely not going to teach him a lesson. or Astarion gets jealous of Gale teaching you magic and decides to teach him his own lesson.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Exhibitionism, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Possessive Sex, Vaginal Sex, Creampie , Public Sex, Public Nudity, Forest Sex, idk its a lot, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings.

WARNING: +18, minors DNI

[AO3 Link]

You would've thought Astarion wasn't one to be jealous. He was always so nonchalant when it came to sharing you with others, or watching you giving affection to the rest of the group. So tranquil and chill. And you liked that! You loathed controlling behavior on your partners, as it should be. But over time, you noticed small details that betrayed his true feelings.

Despite his calm exterior, he would bite your neck harder after having drinks with Karlach, leaving marks for days. Or sometimes, if Shadowheart got too close for comfort, the vampire would fuck you so hard that night you were barely able to move the next day. Laughing at Wylls jokes? He would eat you out for hours on end until you were pleading for him to stop.

But it wasn't just during sex that he showed hints of jealousy. One day, while sitting at the campfire, Gale brushed his hand against your arm playfully as he told a story. You didn't think much of it until Astarion's hand casually slid over your hip and pulled you closer to him, silently claiming you as his own. As his fingers gripped your waist, he leaned in and planted soft kisses on your neck, causing you to blush at the unexpected display of affection. This pattern persisted for days, and you couldn't help but notice that whenever someone got too close or flirted with you, Astarion would subtly place an arm around your shoulders or play with your hair. It was like some sort of game to him, though he would never admit it to you.

The worst came when Gale offered to teach you to do magic. You were surprised by how easily you seemed to pick up the magical arts. Gale was also an excellent teacher, patient and encouraging. It was exhilarating every time you successfully cast a spell or even conjured a small flame in your hand. As you continued to learn and practice magic with Gale, you would excitedly retell your experiences to Astarion. You loved every moment of it and couldn't contain your enthusiasm. And even though he loved teasing and taunting you about your newly acquired magical abilities, he was also impressed by it.

"You truly are a surprising little thing," he would say with a genuine smile as he watched you practice spells.

But soon enough, you noticed that every time you brought it up, he would go harder during the night, making sure you were moaning his name loud enough to wake everyone in camp. After one particularly intense session, you were lying next to him in his bedroll, lightly tracing your fingers over the bite marks on his neck

"Are you okay?" you questioned softly.

Astarion's hand stilled on your back as he looked at you.

"Why do you ask?" he replied, his voice guarded.

"I just... you have been behaving a bit weird lately when I talk about my lessons with Gale."

He just scoffed "I simply find it amusing to think about you spending so much time with Gale of all people; his constant rambling must be driving you to madness."

You raised an eyebrow at his response, not buying it for a second. "Come on, Astarion. I know you better than that. What's really bothering you? Are you jealous?"

He looked at you shocked for a second, but then just laughed. "Haha! No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia."

You couldn't help but laugh at Astarion's response. "Walking encyclopedia? That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Astarion just rolled his eyes and shrugged. "He's got as much magic expertise as he has a knack for being utterly irritating."

You just chuckled and decided to overlook it for the time being.

A few days later you were in the middle of a class with Gale laughing together about a miscast spell you couldn't seem to grasp. The wizard came up from behind and placed his hands on your waist to assist with your movements. You were so focused on the task at hand that neither of you noticed Astarion's arrival until he loudly cleared his throat, causing you both to startle.

"Having fun without me, I see," Astarion said with a smirk as he leaned against the nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest.

Gale responded with a nonchalant roll of his eyes to Astarion's usual snide remark, but you couldn't help feeling annoyed, already knowing where this conversation was headed.

"We were just practicing," you said curtly.

"Is that right?" he drawled with a smirk. He sauntered towards you, his fiery gaze assessing every inch of your being."Well, I apologize for interrupting your lesson, my love, but I do require your assistance. It's a matter of urgency, you see."

"Right now? Can't it wait?" you interjected, wanting to get back to your lesson with Gale.

"Is there anything amiss? Do you require our assistance?" Gale asked, his hand still grabbing your waist. Astarion's gaze locked on the hand, his eyes reflecting something almost primal.

"Nothing that should concern you," Astarion snapped, eyes fixed on Gale."This is an important matter I need to discuss with her. Alone."

You could feel Gale tense up beside you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. Sensing the tension between the two men, you quickly stepped out of Gale's grasp.

"Fine," you said with a sigh before turning to Gale. "I'll catch up with you later for our lesson."

Gale just nodded in understanding and gave you a small smile. Astarion didn't even wait for you to follow before walking in the direction of the woods. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior before catching up to him. He effortlessly navigated through the dense forest, leading you to a clearing not far from Gale's tent with his elegant and agile footsteps.

"What did you need to discuss?" you asked, trying to sound calm.

Astarion's intense gaze snapped back to you, and with swift strides, he closed the distance between you. Without warning, he pulled you into a sudden and passionate kiss that nearly knocked you off balance. The taste of his cool lips sent electricity coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending like a blazing fire.

"W-wh-" you tried to mumble, but Astarion's kiss was almost suffocating, his hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling you closer to him. Finally, you were able to break free from his grasp and take a step back, taking in his disheveled appearance, "By the Nine Hells Astarion, what is wrong with you?!"

Astarion smirked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of lust and mischief. "Gale was getting too chummy with you, darling. And we can't have anyone stealing my spotlight. He's a ticking time bomb, after all," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You rolled your eyes and swatted at him, trying to hide your growing frustration. "Don't give me that, you know as well as I do he is perfectly fine. Just admit it, you are jealous!"

Astarion's smirk fell completely now, his eyes darkening with anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he spat, taking a step back from you.

"Oh please, Astarion. You don't have to pretend with me. I can see right through you. The casual touches, the nights you go harder, the biting... All this nonchalant act is getting out of hand!" you snapped back at him, your frustration now bubbling over.

A flicker of emotion crossed Astarion's face, revealing a petulant anger that made him look almost childish. "I'm not envious," he insisted, his voice dripping with frustration. "It's just...he's so aggravating! Always touching you and trying to make you laugh."

"He is teaching me, Astarion. That's what teachers do!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to him.

But Astarion didn't relent. "You may be oblivious, my dear, but I see the way he looks at you," he muttered, "Whether you're fighting or casting spells, his eyes are always on you. It's quite maddening, really."

A shiver ran down your spine at Astarion's words and you couldn't help but feel a little confused. "You are imagining things," you whispered.

Astarion's gaze intensified as he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing yours. "Am I?" he purred, "Did you not see the way he was holding onto you when I walked in?"

You felt yourself blushing under his intense stare. "That's just how he is, Astarion. He's a naturally affectionate person," you tried to explain.

He chuckled. "A naturally affectionate person, you say? And yet...it seems I've never received such affections from him," he said, his gaze trailing over to where your tutor stood behind the trees. He turned back to you with a sly grin, his hand snaking around your waist. "Maybe it's about time we teach him a lesson," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes and before you knew it, Astarion had pushed you back against a nearby tree, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. Your thoughts faded away as you naturally wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Astarion’s grip drew you in, pulling you flush against him while his lips devoured yours. You were swept away by the sensation of his cold hands sliding under your shirt and along your back. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in his ivory hair, pulling at the curls and causing a low rumble to escape from his mouth.

But just as quickly as it began, Astarion pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Oh darling," he purred in your ear, "what would your dear tutor say if he saw you now?"

Your face flushed hotly, a new wave of embarrassment washing over you.

"Astarion," you warned weakly, trying to escape his grasp.

But his hold only tightened, the arm around your waist bringing you flush against him once again. "Oh darling," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement, his breath fanning your ear, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. "I'm just getting started."

Heart pounding in your chest, you willed yourself to meet his gaze. His crimson eyes bore through yours and despite everything that was happening, you felt a small flutter in your stomach. "You're impossible," you said finally, trying to sound stern but only succeeding in letting out a breathy sigh.

Astarion's lips curved into a wicked smile at your words. He leaned in close so you could feel the coolness of his breath on your skin and whispered, "Only for you."

Any further arguments were lost as he captured your lips once more with his own. The world around seemed to blur as you were consumed by the feeling of Astarion’s lips moving over yours. You could feel yourself melting into his touch, all thoughts of your tutor and any consequences forgotten.

Astarion's hand, which had been resting on your hip, began to glide down the length of your body until it reached between your legs. You couldn't help but let out a gasp at the unexpected touch, but Astarion only pressed himself closer to you, causing you to feel his hardness pressing against you. His hand continued to move teasingly, his fingers lightly pressing along the fabric of your trousers, causing small shivers to run through your body. You could feel yourself already dripping in anticipation, wondering if he could feel it through the fabric. The other hand that was now resting on your ass moved upwards, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your breath caught in anticipation as you felt the cool air hit your hot skin as Astarion opened your shirt fully. Astarion's hungry eyes roamed over your exposed chest, taking in every inch of your skin as his mouth descended on one of your nipples. He suckled and nipped at it gently with his fangs, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly and arched your back, fingers buried in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the intense pleasure. Astarion's attention shifted to your other nipple, leaving a trail of wet kisses between them. You let out a small whimper as Astarion's hand finally slipped inside your trousers, his fingers exploring your wet folds.

Astarion's lips left your nipple and traveled upwards to capture your mouth once more, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. As his fingers began to circle your clit, you couldn't help but moan loudly into his mouth.

He chuckled against your lips before breaking the kiss and whispering huskily in your ear, "You're so wet for me already."

At that your breath hitched, eyes traveling to the place where you could barely see the camp, watching as Gale read his book in the cushions of his tent. If he were to look in your direction, he would see everything that was taking place.

Astarion's fingers expertly explored your cunt, teasing and stroking your clit repeatedly. His lips never left your skin, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone as his hand continued its movements between your legs. He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a heated glare, "Well, well, well. Look at you, dear. All hot and bothered."

You couldn't help but blush at his words, feeling slightly embarrassed by your own actions. Just then, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snort coming from Gale's tent.

"What if he heard us?" you whispered frantically to Astarion.

Astarion shrugged nonchalantly. "Let him hear," he said with a sly smile. "Maybe it'll make him realize what he's missing out on."

You rolled your eyes at his cockiness but couldn't deny the thrill that ran through your body at the thought of being caught by Gale. Then, to your surprise, he suddenly dropped to his knees and began to lower your trousers down to your ankles before pushing them away. Your heart was racing with anticipation as he revealed your wet and throbbing core. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight before him.

"Delectable," he muttered, almost to himself, before he took your leg and placed it over his shoulder. Then, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against your core, using his tongue to explore every inch of you. You moaned at the feeling, gripping the back of his head as he sucked on your nub and licked along your slit. The sensation was overwhelming, causing you to buck your hips against his face. Astarion's hands tightened on your thighs in response, holding you still as he continued his ministrations.

His thumb caressed circles around your swelling clit, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he felt a surge of wetness spill from you at his touch. He then slowly pushed a finger inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench around him and grip his hair tighter.

"Such an exhibitionist you've become," he murmured, voice raspy. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, devilish delight dancing in them at your disheveled state. He added another finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out slowly while his rough thumb focused on your throbbing clit. You threw your head back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip to suppress the loud moans threatening to escape.

Suddenly, you heard Gale's voice call out from behind the trees, "Is everything alright over there?"

Astarion paused at the sound of his voice but didn't break away from you completely. He looked up at you with an amused grin, whispering, "Do we tell him, dear?"

The panic that had momentarily subsided returned full force, all the color drained from your face.

"T-tell him what?" you managed to say, trying to regain your composure as Astarion continued his teasing movements.

"That his lovely apprentice is currently being fingered by a vampire," he said with a mischievous look in his red eyes.

As you were about to retaliate, Astarion's fingers curled inside of you in just the right spot, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body and cutting off any coherent thought.

You let out a loud moan, despite your efforts to hold back. At this, Gale's voice called out again, sounding closer this time. You tried to protest, but the words were lost in another wave of pleasure as Astarion's mouth latched onto your clit and sucked hard. Your hand flew to your mouth, biting it to prevent more sounds from emanating.

"Oh, no, that won't do dear." He whispered, gripping your wrist to pull it away from your lips.

You looked down at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to stop and not let Gale discover you in this compromising position.

But Astarion only smirked up at you, his fingers still pumping inside of you as his tongue continued its assault on your clit. He shifted his position slightly, making sure that Gale wouldn't be able to see what was happening unless he came closer.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building and building until you were practically shaking with it. Astarion must have noticed, as he abruptly halted his actions and withdrew his mouth and hand, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated.

Before you could complain, his mouth was back on yours, swallowing any sounds that threatened to escape as his fingers found their way back inside of you. This time he didn't hold back, thrusting them in and out of you relentlessly while his other hand reached around to pinch and twist your already sore nipple. The sounds were so lewd and wet and loud, it was hard to imagine that Gale wasn't able to hear them.

"By the gods," you moaned in his mouth, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. "I need you. Now."

Astarion chuckled and pulled back to look at you, his red eyes glinting with desire. "You'll have to be more specific, love," he said teasingly, still keeping his fingers inside of you.

You could feel yourself getting more frustrated by the second. You needed him inside of you, filling you up and satisfying this aching need that had been building since he first touched you.

"Just...just fuck me already," you practically growled, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts with the way he was making your body tingle.

Astarion's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before whispering huskily. "Only if you don't hold back."

You grumbled under your breath as Astarion reached down and unbuttoned his pants, revealing his already rigid and eager member. Your heart races as you reach out, unable to resist the temptation, and wrap your hand around it, stroking lightly. He responds by lifting your leg with ease, wrapping it around his waist as he presses you against the rough bark of a nearby tree, igniting a burning desire within you.

He positioned himself between your legs, teasingly rubbing his hard length against your entrance.

With one swift thrust, he entered you fully, filling you up in all the right ways. You moaned loudly at the feeling of being filled by him, gripping onto his shoulders tightly. He began to move slowly at first, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in. Each time he hit that perfect spot inside of you, you couldn't help but let out another loud moan. You could feel your walls tightening around him.

"Say my name," he groaned, his red eyes locking with yours, "Say my name so he knows."

"A-Astarion!" You cried out, heedless of the echo that bounced back from the surrounding trees. He chuckled darkly against your skin, his hot breath fanning over your dampened neck and sending shivers down to your core.

"That's it, my sweet," he praised. "Let them know who's making you feel this good."

His arrogance was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. Astarion's pace quickened as he chased his release, the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin filling the air. His hands tightened around your thigh and hip, almost painfully so, but the slight discomfort only added to the intense pleasure coursing through you.

The rough bark of the tree was also scratching your back painfully, and you knew that it would leave bruises and scratches from this encounter, but in this moment, all you could focus on was Astarion and the way he was hitting that spot inside you time and time again.

A rustling in the bushes caught your attention for a brief moment, but Astarion's hand grasped your neck and his signature glance brought your focus back to him. You knew what that glance meant; he wanted to claim you fully. Without hesitation, you offered your neck and he wasted no time, sinking his fangs into your skin. The sensation was overwhelming - both painful and pleasurable at the same time. You moaned loudly as he drank from you, and Astarion's thrusts became erratic and desperate. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you as you moaned his name over and over again.

As he felt himself reaching his peak, he reached down to the space where your bodies joined, and pressed his rough thumb against the sensitive nub there. Your mind spun, your vision blurred, and the world seemed at once both too bright and too dark as you gasped out his name one last time before the intensity of the orgasm took your voice away. Astarion groaned deeply against your neck, his fangs dislodging from your skin. You could feel yourself clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth as he continued to thrust into you until he found his own release.

With one final moan of your name, Astarion climaxed, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside of you. He collapsed against your body, both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath.

Stunned by the whole encounter and paralyzed by exhaustion, you hung limply against Astarion whose arms felt like steel bands around you holding you up against the tree. The rustling in the bushes grew louder now, more insistent but neither of you cared enough to investigate the source.

His gaze flicked down to inspect the puncture marks left behind on your skin and an expression of satisfaction washed over his handsome face. He pressed a soft kiss on the two small wounds before pulling away from you, his body still trembling slightly from the afterglow. As he pulled out, you could both hear and feel the squelching, as the remnants of his seed dripped between your legs. You were left panting and trembling against the tree trunk as Astarion straightened up with a satisfied smirk on his face. You looked up at him in disbelief.

"I can't believe...you did that..." You managed to say between breaths.

Astarion chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead before calmly fixing your blouse straight and helping you retrieve your pants, which were thrown in the aftermath. He cleaned your legs and core with his own shirt, and you pointedly ignored his proud grin. He seemed so calm and collected, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened between the two of you.

After you had composed yourself, you spoke firmly to Astarion. "Your jealousy is becoming a real problem," you told him. "This needs to be addressed. I'm not jesting this time."

As he started to speak, his usual defensive tone creeping in, you stepped forward and cup his face in your hands. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, evidence of the recent blood he had just consumed. Your thumbs gently traced over his cheeks, trying to convey all the love and understanding you have for him in that simple touch.

"I crave you and only you. These displays are unnecessary to win my affections, for you already have them completely. Astarion, I am yours, wholly and unconditionally."

Astarion's eyes widened in surprise before they softened. He cupped your face in his hands now, mirroring your gesture. "You truly mean that?" he said in a small voice.

You nodded, looking into his eyes without fear or doubt. You have known for a long time.

Astarion's lips curled up into a genuine smile, fangs and everything, before he leaned down to kiss you again. When you finally broke apart from the kiss, Astarion seemed almost sheepish.

"Well, I must admit, I was a tad envious. But who can blame me? You are so beautiful and incredible." He sighed dramatically, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. "And now look where it's gotten us. My apologies for letting it get the best of me."

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his words and embrace him tightly with your arms.

"Don't worry, a small public display isn't too terrible every now and then. But from now on, please let's keep our encounters in the privacy of our tent," you said with a playful wink.

Astarion chuckled and leaned down to kiss your forehead before returning the tight hug.

"I can do that," he said softly. "As long as I have you, I don't need any further exhibitions."

You smiled against his chest, feeling content and happy in his embrace.

"So, you think Gale caught us?"

[lucrezianoin]

Here is how to get astarion approval so high he will proposition you before the tieflings party. No evil choices, just some chaos. The score you want is 40.

Not all of these are necessary btw, if you di all of this you'll get over 40. Avoid what sounds too evil and check that you're getting up to 40. Also remember that for the party romance you actually only need 20.

- When Lae'zel is in the cage, talk to her before releasing her and ask her to say "please"

- Attacking the thieves at the ruined temple

- When Shadowheart mention needing a cure (at camp) make sure to choose the option about being cautious

- When you meet with Zevlor, refuse to help saying you have your own problems. (you can help anyway, don't worry)

- When Lae'zel meets the tiefling and ask him to bow, go along with her at least once, then you can stop her and apologise to the poor man

- When you meet Wyll, you can talk with the guy training the children. Tell the children that they will all die

- After saving Arabella, tell the druid woman that you just wanted to see what would happen

- When you meet Auntie Ethel at the refugees' camp, let her fuss over you and then tell her about the tadpoles

- You know the kid with the magic ring trick? Pocket that ring

- When you meet the two siblings mourning their dying brother, Astarion will approve of you send them to face the owlbear (but I never choose this, because it makes me sad). But I think the big approval comes in the dialogue just next, where you can say that using the tadpole seems like a great idea

- At the blighted village, when the goblin spots you, you will get approval if you attack them back

- Say boooo to Volo

- Open the door where the sexy moans are happening

- At the entrance of the goblin camp, if you can, thow shit at the guard

- There's a goblin that will ask you to kneel and kiss his foot. Uno reverse it, and intimidate him

- Let the cleric at the goblin whip you

- After you free the owlbear, pet them at camp

- Get the necromancy of thay, and the amethyst that fits in it and give it to Astarion

- Recruit Karlach with him in the party

- Killing the monster Hunter will also shoot up your approval of TEN POINTS. I usually never kill him, but if you're close to the party and you really want to get to 40, this is also an option

- When you meet Raphael, agree with Astarion that you should not trust him

- If you decide to do auntie ethel too, make sure to convince her to free Maryna and get the deal at the same time

Now, I think the majority of approval will come with how you talk with him at camp.

- Go along with his dialogue about killing you if there's any tentacle showing. Just play along, don't shut him down

- Go along with the "whose blood would you drink" dialogue. Your answer doesn't really matter as long as you don't shut him down

- When he bites you, of course, offer to give him your blood

- During the mirror dialogue (sometimes it happens pre-sleeping together) you can insult him a bit (you're not aging gracefully), but at the second reply reassure him. The last reply is fine for all the lines and they seem to all get approval, as long as you don't just leave.

In general this is usually all I need to get to 40, which is pretty high. In my last playthrough I managed to also get to 40 without doing many of these.

But as I said, you only need 20. Just remember that he likes being petty and asserting dominance over others, he loves the tadpole, he is cautious, he's a little silly and chaotic, he's selfish, he likes joking and talking so don't shut him down.

Just remember that he's much more explicit about sex being an exchange if you get the proposition before the party, and you end up missing the scene of the party. Up to you! If you see that he's at 40 he will proposition the moment you talk to him, so if you accidentally got his approval too high and want to see both scenes you can technically kill the goblin leaders and free halsin, talk to him, then when you sleep you get directly to the party where you will have the party scene too.

[astarioffsimpmain]

Could I perhaps request hcs for Astarion and/or Halsin with a reader who is prone to getting wrist and ankle injuries (and they are a fool who reinjures themselves often, mainly due to overestimating how healed they are but also giving the excuse of "I was bored! What was I supposed to do?") Thanks!

Hello, anon!! Sorry it took so long to post this! I did both to make up for it (and it got reaaaaal long lmao); I hope that's alright. <3 Thank you for the lovely request!!

~ ~ ~

Astarion

You had chosen to come with them, despite everyone's protests. Shadowheart was concerned that you had not fully healed, and due to her suspicion, Lae'zel was convinced you would be a liability.

Astarion feigned apathy, of course, but it was the increasingly more frequent glances he was tossing back in your direction as you went that gave him away

You were a fairly casual traveler anyway, preferring to lurk in the middle or the back of the group as you walked, providing directions when the group came to an impasse. It was no doubt you were their leader, however, for every head turned to you when any kind of decision or uncertainty arose

But today was an exceptionally slow day, even for you. You plodded along behind the others, a sharp eye but dull reflexes; you were the only one who couldn't tell. Only when the group was surprised by a batch of newly spawned gnolls, did you come to realize just how grave a mistake you had made.

You tugged the bow from your back and reached for an arrow; once you had the bowstring pulled taut, you noticed the ache in your left wrist. You tried to ignore it as you slung arrow after arrow to the shelf on the bow, but your aim was failing you, and two gnolls already had their sights set on you; so when a sudden, sharp pain in your wrist sent your next arrow flying harmlessly above one of the gnoll's heads, it set its teeth and grinned at you as if to say, "I've got you now," and charged you, the other one following close behind

Gasping, you reached for your sword; pain - red hot pain. You cried out as it blinded you and looked around for your companions; all busy, all pre-occupied. You had to get to one of them; had to get away - you were useless like this. You were going to die.

Suddenly, a flash of white came across your vision; blades and metal and teeth planted itself in front of you. "Star?"

"You idiot!" he seethed as he slashed at the gnolls, their dagger-like claws slicing the elf's pale skin. In a flash, the one nearest him was down, bleeding a sticky red over the ground, and the moment he saw an opening, Astarion lunged at the second, sinking his fangs into its neck. It writhed, clawing at the armor on his back, before falling limp.

He took several more measured gulps before letting the body drop unceremoniously and rounding on you, his red eyes feral and gleaming. "You almost died, you absolute fool!" he screeched and you shrunk away from him, having never seen his anger directed at you this vehemently before. "You were told to stay in camp, but nooo! You had to come out here and endanger your life, again! Gods! And what, exactly, do you think we would have done were our leader to die, hm? Gale, the ticking time bomb, can't very well lead us, nor could Wyll, the Blade of I-have-a-devil-on-my-shoulder-Frontiers! If you go down, we all go down, and I can't go down! Not like this..."

"Astarion," Karlach's voice sounded behind you and she laid a heavy, comforting hand on your shoulder as your eyes filled with guilty tears. "They've heard enough." Astarion huffed and turned away, and the five of you treaded back to camp, nursing battle wounds, guilt, and hurt feelings.

Thankfully, Gale had readied a warm soup in your absence, and he handed you a bowl with a gentle smile upon your return - gods, you must have truly looked awful. You took it with a quiet "thank you" and sat down close to the fire, curling inwards, hoping no one would look your way. Astarion was right, you had endangered everyone due to your foolishness. Even now, you nursed your left wrist, letting the bowl's weight fall on your right instead. You groaned softly, knowing you would have to return to Shadowheart and have her repair it - once again - to the state it was in before today. You would have to bear her frustrated gaze, and you were just not certain you could right now.

After slurping down most of the soup, you returned the bowl to Gale and made for your own tent - you figured you would not be welcome in Astarion's tonight. You curled your hand up to your chest to keep gravity from causing even more swelling, and ducked inside.

You nearly lost your footing when you looked up and saw Astarion, with a sour expression on his face, sitting on your bedroll, mixing a green-ish, gooey liquid in a bowl. A single step forward explained his scrunched up nose - it smelled awful. "Star?" you asked quietly, putting your right hand over your nose and mouth.

"Only you would have me sitting here mixing this gods-awful concoction instead of sleeping," he fussed, mixing harder.

"W-what are you talking about? I came to my tent because I figured you'd rather be alone in yours," you replied, muffled by your sleeve.

"I almost lost you today and you think I'd rather be alone?" he griped, and you softened almost immediately, tears springing to your eyes. "This is a salve the druid recommended. It will help with the swelling. Just think! If you were a vampire, you wouldn't swell. Wouldn't that be swell." He was muttering angrily, but all of his bluster had expired. His eyebrows, that had previously been knitted together, were now curved up in desperation as he continued mixing.

You kneeled down in front of him and gently laid your hands over his. "It's mixed, Star," you said quietly, and he looked up at you, his eyes round and misty. You guided his hands to set the bowl on the table beside you, then curled your fingers around his. "I'm so sorry," you whispered. "Everything you said was right; I endangered everyone today, for a really stupid reason. I just feel-" you paused, choking on your words as your throat tightened with unshared emotions. "I feel so useless staying behind."

Before you could process what was happening, you were being pulled into Astarion's chest, his arms winding so tightly around your back that you almost couldn't breathe; but gods it felt so good. Your arms were around his neck in an instant and you breathed in his perfume and the lingering salt from battle. You let the tears fall down your face in earnest as you buried it in his shoulder.

"My darling," he whispered. "You are never useless, no matter where you are. You've done so much for all of us - for me - already. Gods damn it, you couldn't be useless if you tried."

Halsin

You had been ordered to rest in camp by the others after a taking a nasty fall on the cliffside. You had unfortunately stepped in an obscured burrow hole, and your foot had dropped through, leaving the rest of your body to twist at an unnatural angle as you fell to the earth. For a week, you had not been able to walk on it at all, limping around on the makeshift supports that Halsin had carved for you from a nearby fallen tree.

But it had been three weeks since then, and you were moving around with much more agility now, walking without any supports, and even doing your turns with the laundry in the nearby lake. You wanted to return to aiding your companions on your journey, but no one else thought you were ready to return.

As frustrating as it was, you understood where they were coming from - they weren't certain you were fully healed and did not want a liability in battle. You wouldn't either. But with little to do at camp, you were left bored and restless, always aimlessly walking about looking for something to do.

That something presented itself when Scratch and Bite*, the owlbear cub you rescued awhile back from the goblin camp, came bounding up to you, a ball in Scratch's mouth. You smiled, excited at the prospect of eluding your boredom for a little while, and cast Speak with Animals on yourself. "Are you both as bored as I am?" you asked them once the spell took hold.

Scratch dropped the ball. "I noticed you were unsettled, friend," he said. "Perhaps this will give you something to do without straining your foot."

"Ball, throw; chase!" Bite jumped around excitedly.

"Aww, you guys are the best," you exclaimed, touched by their kind gesture. You picked up the ball and turned it over in your hand a couple of times before turning to aim across camp at where Wyll sat in front of his tent. "Are you ready? Let's get Wyll involved!" Scratch and Bite wiggled their butts, ready to chase, and you launched the ball in Wyll's direction.

It bounced directly in front of him and soared over his head, bonking against one of his horns and turning in the other direction. Wyll's head snapped up, found the ball, then turned to you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. You slapped your hand over your mouth to keep from guffawing. "Sorry, Wyll!"

"Oh, you will be," he replied, but here was no malice to be found in his words as he set his book aside and rose, slapping his knee a couple times until Scratch returned the ball to him. "You'd better be quick, Tav; you don't have horns to protect your head!" Wyll laughed before hurling the ball in your direction. You squealed with glee and raised your hands to catch it, the ball landing smoothly in your hands.

"Get him back, Bite!" you cackled, throwing the ball towards the owlbear cub, and he raced after it, lodging it in his beak before running at Wyll at near-top speed.

"Whoa!" Wyll yelled in surprise and dove out of the way as the cub barreled past him, turning on a dime to keep from destroying Wyll's tent. "That has to be some kind of penalty in this game!" he laughed, on all fours in the dirt.

"And what game would that be, exactly, Wyll?" you tittered as the cub returned the ball to you.

"Aren't we playing catch?" Wyll asked, dusting his hands off and returning to his feet.

"Hells if I know!" you shouted playfully and turned, tossing the ball towards Gale instead.

When it bounced off of the hefty tome in the wizard's hands, startling him so much that he leveled backwards, you and Wyll collapsed into fits of giggles. Several moments later, Gale was in front of you, holding the ball in his hand with a stern expression on his face. "Was this your doing, Tav?" he asked.

"It was," you breathed, wiping the tears from your eyes as you recovered. "I'm so sorry, Gale, I didn't mean to hit your book. I was aiming for your shoe." More devolved cackling ensued from Wyll several feet away. "I wanted you to join in." you giggled, wiping your other eye.

"Well then," Gale said, his face still solemn, but his eyes telling a different story. "You should have just asked." He threw his hands up in a shrug.

"Gale," you said, observing the wizard's now empty hands. "Where's the ball?"

"Hmm," he faux-pondered. "What an excellent question, Tav. I wonder..."

Your question was answered seconds later as it whizzed by your head from somewhere behind you and you gasped in shock, slinging yourself around to find a blue mage hand waving at you colloquially. "Gale!" you screeched, laughing as Scratch took off running.

"I should have known you wouldn't play fair!" Wyll called, already jogging to a new spot.

"You absolutely should have," Gale affirmed, and took a spot further away from you. "How about we elevate this a little?" He suggested slyly and muttered an incantation. A ball appeared in your hands and another in Wyll's. "Two are illusions, the ones you have there. Only one really matters. You know the difference now, but after Scratch and Bite have a go at them? Well,"

"What does the winner get?" you asked.

"Mm," Gale pondered for a moment, but Wyll interjected.

"Laundry done by the two losers for three weeks."

"Done." you answered swiftly.

Gale was slower to answer, but conceded. "Alright, done."

"Let's get started."

The camp was in chaos for the next half hour, Scratch and Bite no longer the only ones diving for the little leather balls. You couldn't remember the last time you'd had so much fun, but it all came crashing down when you jumped off of your bad foot to dive for the ball. You let out a scream of pain as your fingers closed around the ball, and you landed in the dirt with a heavy thud.

"Tav?!" Gale called, knowing immediately that something was amiss. Wyll wasn't long to realize after him, trotting up to you with a worried expression on his face.

"I-" you groaned, pulling your ankle close to inspect it. "I went down on it; my bad ankle. Oh, gods."

"Mystra's finger, I had forgotten about your ankle. Oh, Tav, this is my fault, I greatly apologize," Gale stuttered, and reached towards you. "Please, allow me to help you get to a nice resting spot so that we can get it elevated."

"I assumed you were better, this is on me as well. I am so sorry, Tav. Gale, I'll help."

You accepted both Gale and Wyll's help and they moved you to an empty bedroll by the unlit fire, lowering you down onto the pillows. Gale rushed to his tent and returned with several more to prop under your knee and foot. You cringed, not only at the pain but at the thought of having to explain to Halsin what you had done. He had been healing you little by little over the course of the last three weeks, checking in on you so diligently each time to make sure you would be ready to return to your journey as swiftly as possible, and this was how you had rewarded him. You laid your head in your hands in shame and waited for the inevitable.

The remainder of your companions returned several hours later, and you hadn't moved from your place. You almost didn't dare to look up when the druid stopped before you, but you took a quick glance at his tired expression and nearly cried. He had obviously been through the ringer today, and certainly didn't need your foolishness to contend with.

"What happened here?" he asked gruffly, exhaustion creeping through each word.

Gale and Wyll were by your side in an instant, as if they had both been waiting for this moment as tensely as you had. "Wyll and I were playing fetch with Scratch and Bite, and I tossed the ball too close to them. They tried to jump aside, and twisted their ankle again."

Halsin looked at Gale skeptically, but the wizard held a firm expression. Even so, you couldn't take it; they couldn't take the fall for you.

"Gale, it's okay," you said quietly, and his head swiveled to you, his expression falling. "I can't let the two of you take the fall for me. I was foolish, I should have known better." You turned to Halsin, whose suspicious eyes now fell on you. "We were all playing fetch with Scratch and Bite. I instigated it, and I jumped on my bad foot to catch the ball and landed wrong. I'm so sorry, Halsin. I took your healing for granted. I will make the herb salves and heal it on my own this time." You looked guiltily down at your swelling ankle, new discoloration already seeping through the skin.

No one said a word, and the silence from Halsin was deafening. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, unable to look at him again, but also unable to leave.

You gasped when you felt large hands reach under your knees and around your back and lift you into the air. Your eyes flew open and you looked up at Halsin, who had pulled you to his chest and was wordlessly carrying you towards his tent. The guilt only grew and infected the rest of your chest cavity, hollowing you with an ache you knew it would take awhile to get rid of.

The druid laid you down on the pillows in his tent and arranged a few under your leg and foot, then turned away from you to begin mixing more of the same salve he had been using on you before. You were silent. You didn't dare speak. You had never seen Halsin so quiet before. You were anxious. Halsin was the last person you ever wanted upset with you; he was kind, gentle, caring, and so very patient. You had fallen for him, and now you had taken his craft and his time for granted, like an unruly child.

You watched quietly as he applied the salve on your bruising ankle, not meeting your eyes, then exited the tent without a word. You clutched your other knee to your chest and laid your head down on it, knowing his silence was what you deserved. You fell into a semi-sleep in that position, relaxing as well as you could without moving.

Next thing you knew, you were awoken by movement just outside the mouth of the tent, and you stiffened, your eyes not opening properly. It was still dark, that much you could tell, and whatever was outside the tent flap was large. You glanced around for a dagger, a club, something. But before you found anything of use, a brilliant light flashed and the shadow of a creature became the shadow of a man before your eyes. You sighed in relief. Halsin.

A massive hand pulled the tent flap up and you met his eyes in the dark. You stared at one another for several agonizing moments before you muttered softly, "I'm sorry."

He sighed, his other hand passing over his face. "I know," he said quietly, pushing further into the tent until his entire hulking body rested beside you. "Sometimes I forget how young you are; how young all of you are. You are human, you have far less time than elves. You were taught to make the most of it. Humans are raised on seizing the moment, not any manner of patience; because you must be."

"I took you for granted, Halsin, and you are the last person I would want to let down." You laced your fingers in front of your knee and laid your chin back down on it. "It doesn't matter that I'm a human. I could die tomorrow and it wouldn't matter. I-"

"Do not ever speak of yourself that way." Halsin said, suddenly insistent. "It would matter a great deal if you were to perish, to any of us; it would matter an even greater deal to me." He exhaled and his hand passed across his face again. "I care a great deal about you, my heart; perhaps too great."

You swore in that moment that your heart stopped beating. "Halsin," you whispered breathlessly. "Are you-?"

"You cannot tell me that you haven't noticed how I favor you," he said softly. "My care is two-fold in regards to you."

"I-" a tear escaped your eye and Halsin reached for you immediately, brushing it away and cupping your cheek in his hand. "I care for you too, Halsin; so much." A tear fell down your other cheek, and the druid's other hand came to rest there, as if it would pain him to see any of your tears be wasted on the earth - a fine irony for the man before you.

"One day in my short lifespan, perhaps I'll deserve you," you huffed a quiet laugh, attempting to dispel the tension, but Halsin was having none of it. He surged forward instead, pressing his warm lips against your own and lacing his fingers into your hair, dragging himself as close to you as he could without hurting you. His kiss was like fire, consuming you from the inside out, and you wound your arms around his neck, curling your fingers into his braids as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged ever so slightly.

"My heart," he muttered raggedly after releasing your lips. "You already do."

*Inspiration for the Owlbear Cub being named "Bite" here!

~

fin

Tagging, Darlings: @micropoe10 @knightofmight01 @fanon-and-canon @just-a-refrigerator

[soulessjourney]

No Time To Die

Paring: Astarion x fem!TavReader

Word count: 2k

Summary: Astarion and Tav share an intimate moment alone after she is wounded during the battle with Cazador.

Warnings: Little Angst, Mentions of violence, OOC Astarion, Fluff and lots of it

The battle with Cazador proved to be no easy feat, particularly when he was determined to have Astarion play a role in his ascension. Astarion stood steadfastly by your side as you confronted Cazador, with your other companions ready for a fight behind you. The moment Astarion was torn away from you, everything blurred into a reddish haze. Astarion's pleas for freedom echoed, while Shadowheart and Wyll urged you to focus on reaching him. You needed no second prompting as you skillfully cut through your adversaries, your attention fixed on the vampire positioned on the opposite side of the room.

Upon reaching Astarion, you extended your hand toward him, only to be abruptly pulled back and thrown to the floor, Astarion tumbling a few feet away from you. "Tav!" Karlach's voice echoed as your gaze caught a blade coming your way. Rolling to the side, you winced at the clash of metal against the marble floors. Rising to your feet, you evaded Cazador's lunges, his eyes filled with madness.

"I will not let you hinder my ascension. Why defend Astarion so fiercely? He's nothing and will never be anything. You're protecting damaged goods," Cazador taunted, his words dripping with venom as he sliced at you, catching your arm. A yelp escaped you, catching Astarion's attention as he raced toward you, stumbling over his feet. Everything unfolded in slow motion as you found yourself on the ground again, your back colliding with a pillar. Astarion had tackled Cazador, but his words were unintelligible amid the growing ringing in your head.

Sitting up, you leaned against the pillar, a sharp pain shooting through your side, eliciting a strangled groan. Looking down, your mouth opened and closed in a silent scream at the sight of Cazador's dagger firmly planted in your side. A gasp emanated from Shadowheart, who dropped to her knees. "Oh gods, Tav," she whispered, her hands hovering over the dagger. The battle played out in her eyes as she deliberated whether to remove the dagger, the odds seemingly against you with its deep implantation in your side.

Astarion did a double take as your face paled, and you slumped further against the pillar. The prospect of your death weighed heavily on you, considering that Astarion would finally be free. However, another realization struck you - he would be left alone, just as he had been for the past two hundred years. The thought of abandoning him in such a manner became unbearable. Your vision began to blur, your eyes focusing on Astarion as he repeatedly stabbed Cazador, his broken screams echoing through the room. He had forsaken his ascension, and some part of you felt a sense of pride. Astarion was giving up something that he knew, deep down, would lead to his destruction.

Letting out another groan, your eyes began to droop shut as you felt Shadowheart shaking you. "Tav, stay with me, do not close your eyes," panic filled her voice. Opening your eyes slowly, you could see the pure horror on Astarion’s face as he stood and stumbled towards you. Your other companions rushed towards you, screaming your name as you descended into a realm of slumber.

----

The atmosphere around the camp was tense. Wyll and Karlach sat by the fire in complete silence, while Gale, Halsin, and Shadowheart were stationed in your tent, working fervently to save your life. At the edge of the camp, Astarion paced, running his fingers through his silver locks. Lae’zel observed her companions before setting down the dagger she was sharpening.

“Pacing and looking so down won’t save her life. If anything, I would say you’re more likely to end it with the amount of brooding you all are doing,” Lae’zel remarked, scanning the individuals in front of her.

Karlach was the first to speak up. “I’m sorry, mate. It’s just that she’s in there alone, fighting for her life, and there’s nothing we can do but hope the other three can save her.” She shifted her eyes to Astarion, who, a few feet away, was still pacing. “I'm also worried about Astarion; he clearly blames himself for what happened to her.”

Lae’zel nodded, letting out a soft hum of agreement. “You say she’s alone, but she is not. Tav has us here waiting for her, does she not?” Lae’zel asked, watching as Karlach looked back towards her and nodded. “Then don’t say she is alone when she is not. As much as she can get on my nerves, Tav is strong, and she wouldn’t let something as small as a dagger take her out of this world. She’s our stubborn leader for a reason.”

Her words were interrupted by Shadowheart and Gale stepping out of the tent, whispering amongst themselves before taking a seat on the log just to the right of Lae’zel. “How is she?” Wyll asked, attempting to keep his voice low, perhaps to prevent Astarion from finding another reason to pace a hole into the ground, if he hadn’t already.

Gale sighed and looked to Shadowheart, who appeared just as defeated. “We did all we can. Now, it’s up to her to finish the fight. Halsin is in there now in case something happens or if she wakes.” Shadowheart gazed toward the tent, her eyes softening. “She’ll wake up. She has to.”

Gale stood up and made his way towards Astarion, stopping just short of him. “It’s not your fault, Astarion. She knew what was going to happen; she took that dagger for you so you could live,” he said, watching as the vampire ceased pacing. “She knew the risks, and she was willing to take them all for you.”

Astarion turned to face Gale slowly, his gaze broken. “What if I lose her? That would just be one more person that Cazador took from me. Even from the dead, he wants me to suffer like I always have,” he spat, balling his hands into fists. “She has to live, Gale. Not just for me but for all of us. We are so close to winning this war; we can’t lose her now.” Astarion felt like he was losing his mind. He had given up ascension for you, his one true love, and now you were knocking on death’s door.

“Have faith in her, Astarion. When have you known her to simply give up? Tav would fight the Netherbrain blind if she had to. She has taken on an entire goblin camp just to save that owlbear, and she saved an entire camp from an attack, all because that’s who she is. She wears her heart on her sleeve, but a fighter like that is as strong as they come. We have been traveling nonstop for days and fighting along the way; she’s burnt out, and the injury was no help. All she needs is rest, Astarion,” Gale said, turning to walk away. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder. “Out of both of us, she chose you to love, and as hurt and betrayed as I may feel, doesn’t that mean something? She’s not going easily, so go stay with her, hold her hand until she wakes,” he said before walking off to join the others.

---

After a lengthy conversation with Halsin, Astarion found himself kneeling next to you. He had successfully convinced Halsin to leave the tent, reassuring him that he would fetch him once you woke or if something went wrong. Holding your hand tightly, Astarion looked down at you, observing the peaceful rise and fall of your chest. You looked so peaceful, but he despised how quiet you were now. Much as he would never admit it to you, your bickering with Karlach and Shadowheart kept things interesting for him. The way you would joke around with Gale or Wyll, and even crack some horribly made jokes in an attempt to make Lae’zel smile, was something he adored about you. You were more than just a group-appointed leader; you were someone who brought joy into his miserable life. You were his best friend, his lifeline even.

Reaching down, Astarion brushed a strand of hair from your face with a sigh. Gale was right; you were burnt out. These past few weeks felt like endless fighting or traveling. You were always the first to jump to your group's aid in battle, and even when injured, you made sure to check on each and every one of them. He should have noticed just how off you seemed after your fight with Ketheric Thorm. You appeared drained, but he chalked it off as mere fatigue after battling a literal god. Although that was true, looking back, you had changed slightly afterward. You weren’t as quick to block attacks in fights, and you seemed slower when walking. Something about that fight took everything out of you, but Astarion, being Astarion, kept pushing everyone, including you, to reach the city. He was so desperate to reach the city that he became blind to how tired you were. Then the fight with Cazador happened. You had barely had time to react before his dagger found its way into your side, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t pushed you and allowed everyone to rest, you wouldn’t be in this position right now, covered in sweat and fighting for your life.

Reaching down and gently squeezing your hand, he felt his frown deepen. “You know, Darling, this isn’t fair. You finally gave me something to care about, just for you to end up like this. I may not have a true beating heart, but sometimes you make me feel as if it is truly beating. I don’t know how you did it, but it’s truly terrifying, Darling,” he said quietly. It was true; this new feeling he had towards you terrified him. For two hundred years, he had never had someone he truly cared about, and he had never had someone show him as much love as you had.

Astarion hated confessing his feelings to you, terrified that he would lose you forever after admitting he was using you, especially when you were so gentle and honest with him. But you were never angry. Instead, you were understanding and supportive of his concerns. It was when he received his first hug from you, and later on that evening, his first kiss from someone real. You were so real to him, and he would burn down the entire city if it meant protecting the one real thing in his life.

Smoothing back your hair, he leans down, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the twitch of your hand or the change in your breathing. "Don’t tell me you’re getting all sentimental on me, Astarion. I would be the one thinking something happened to you," you grumble, keeping your eyes closed and relishing the feeling of his lips against your forehead. A strangled laugh escapes you at the way he tenses before pulling away.

As he looks down at you, you notice how his red orbs seem to glisten, on the verge of tears. Your eyes soften as you meet his gaze, and a small warm smile spreads across your lips. "How long—" "Long enough to hear just the tail end of what you said," you shrug, shifting to sit up. Astarion is quick to help you, turning his head as if he's about to yell something, and that's when it hits you. "Astarion, if you call Halsin in here right now, I will send a stake through you."

Astarion can't help but let out a surprised laugh at your words and the way your eyes narrow into a teasing glare. Reaching up, he caresses your cheek gently and nods. "Then Halsin can wait, but it doesn’t mean I won’t take care of you. You’re everything, Darling. I won’t let anything harm you ever again," he whispers, leaning down to brush his nose against yours gently.

Leaning your forehead against his, your smile only grows at his words. "Then I guess the feeling is mutual. I will protect you even if it means I have to kill Cazador and take a dagger to the side a million times over. For you, I’d do anything." With that, you press your lips to his in a silent promise. In other worlds, Astarion may be the one protecting you with everything he has, but in this one, you’d ruin yourself just to see his smile.

[princesssmars]

something something riding karlach until she sees stars. 18+.

karlach is about ninety percent sure her engine is about to fucking explode. and one hundred of that ninety percent is all your fault. its no secret that you're beautiful, annoyingly perceived as so by pretty much everyone who meets you. she could tell when you first walked up to her from across that branch without fear, later telling her you already knew she wasn't the murderous psychotic devil everyone made her out to be. you listened to her story, defended her against wyll, and she could tell the irregular tick in her chest wasn't just her being nervous about facing probable death at the hands of the blade of frontiers himself.

(although if she had to die at your hands she wouldn't much mind. which is normal. in hindsight, she could also remember her subtly flirting with you. also normal.)

and she's so happy that despite your shared bundle of traumas and saving-the-world problems you could find some respite in each other. she's also really happy that as sweetly as she treats you you also understand how fucking horny she is after ten years of absolutely no contact and then meeting someone who is just as crazy for her as she is for them.

which is how she got to the current moment, her nails digging into your hips as you straddle her hips and rock yourself into her, each subtle glaze of your clit against hers bringing a strangled moan out of her throat.

she's not above begging, especially to you, but everytime she finds the ability to speak without releasing sounds of ecstasy she loses it in seconds. everything she's feeling is too overwhelming in the bestways possible, your hand running through her hair, the other palming at her breasts and bringing out very new and very embarrassing squeaks out of her, your legs squeezed around her waist which just brings her attention and eyesight back to the brief view she can get of your pussy when you pull your hips back before bringing them forward again.

she must have been hyper focused on the space between your legs because your hand is bringing her head back up with a giggle, asking her where she went with a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth, smiling when her eyes close and her lips fold like shes holding herself back, the exact opposite of what you want her to do.

"'m sorry. i just...fuck, soldier, you're killing me here." she gasps, bringing your hand to her chest to feel her newy tuned engine, the heat growing by the second as the blue flames flicker across her skin.

"gods, you really are burning up. we cant stop if you want-" you start to pull your hips off of hers when her claws dig in harder and simultaneously force you down while she thrusts up, loud moans leaving both of you that make you very glad you put a spell over the area inside her tent.

she keeps going, thrusting her cunt into yours while you struggle to keep up, wrappong your arms around her neck when she lies flat on her back and spreads both of your legs further apart, your shared wetness making the glide of your cunts so much easier and all the hotter.

"dont stop, please dont stop. i'll die if you do."

you take a few seconds to catch yourself when her noises take on a more whiny approach, little 'fuck fuck fuck-'s whispered into your ear as she bucks her hips like a madwoman. with a sadistic smile you adjust your body so your nipples can rub over hers the same time you bite into her neck and with a strangled cry she comes, continuing to buck her hips until you fall apart on top of her.

you can feel her breathing slowing down beneath you, the heat of her engine cooling down to a comfortable heat. you start to move your head up to give her a smile and check up before you feel her hips move again, the feeling of your clit being overstimulated nearly making you cry. when you do get to look ather she already has her eyes focused on you, heavy lidded as harsh breaths escape her mouth.

"its starting to look like you'll die if i dont."

"well, i always knew id go out with a bang..."

teehee

[whathebeep]

Okay so like the perma death of Tav and how it would affect the party-

Just cause my Tav died during the end boss and it got me thinking (SPOILERS FOR SURE) (definitely romance centric around poly Tav/Astarion/Halsin)

The party definitely doesn't fully comprehend it at first. Oh it's fine, Shadowheart has revivify- no? It won't work? Right okay we have the scrolls- oh. Okay well we can bring them back to Withers- what do you mean you can't?

That's it. That's the end, and Tav is dead and gone, cold to the touch.

Astarion is in shock. He doesn't believe it, won't believe it- he gets angry at Withers. Yells and screams until his voice his hoarse and angry hot tears are running down his face until he drops to his knees and sobs. Tav's body is on a bed or a stone slab, and he just kneels and cries next to Tav. Squeezes their hand, begs, pleads with them for you to come back. Don't take them, take me- let them live, let them stay, I can't do this without them. Halsin stays with him, by your side, the two comforting each other through their tears and the loss of their love. He cries until he's weak and tired and can't bring himself to move- Halsin feeds him and brings him to bed. He cries at the smell of you on his pillow; you were his sun and now you were gone.

Gale is quiet. Gale comforts the others, makes sure everyone else's needs are being met. He makes Tav's favourite meal that night for everyone at camp- probably something like a nice hearty stew with potatoes and beef. After he's sure everyone else is fed and has drank water/blood, he returns to his tent to eat alone. He closes his tent and quietly cries. He doesn't eat.

Wyll? Wyll carries Tav back to camp- perhaps with the help of Lae'zel. He feels how cold your skin is, and he does his best to hold it together. He sees how deep your wounds are, how blue your lips are. He's unsure if you died before you hit the water, or if you succumbed to your injuries before Halsin pulled you out- but he feels the weight in his chest. You were a hero. Baldur's Gate deserved the privilege to know your face, to hear your laughter. You would've been knighted, you would be a hero to the people. They couldn't of done it without you, and now you were gone. He knew it before they even reached Withers. Wyll didn't sleep that night, rather staying up and tending to the fire.

Shadowheart knew it too. When she tries to revivify Tav and there was nothing, she knew there was no hope. She lingered when the party started back to camp with your body. Shadowheart made her way back to the now empty house of grief and picks night orchids. She takes her time coming back. Camp is quiet when she returns. She feels the familiar wisps of sorrow grasping at the edge of her mind- she is reminded of Shar, and the urge to forget. She won't go back- both for herself and for you. She brings you the night orchids and leaves them in your hands.

Halsin pulled you from the water. He was the first to realize you hadn't surfaced and swam down for you. Minsc realized quickly too and helped him bring you back to shore. Upon the return to camp and the cold hard truth from Withers, he's hurting. His heart hurts. Halsin falls into old habits, hard. He comforts Astarion first and foremost, putting his needs second. He did this at the grove, too. He realizes this and finally breaks, crying as he holds Astarion, the two at your bedside. He lets them fall, he hugs Astarion close, he prays to Silvanus- not to bring you back- he of course knows you are gone. He prays to Silvanus to meet you someday again, be it in the afterlife or if your soul comes back to this plane as something else. When Astarion is too weak to move and needs to go to his bed, Halsin carries him back to his tent. He holds Astarion as Astarion feeds on him, before laying him down to sleep. He leaves, returning with wildflowers to weave into your hair, before returning to bed with Astarion.

Karlach rages. She's violent for hours on end- punching trees, her upgraded engine burning so hot that her tears sizzle if they fall on her skin. She spent 10 years in the hells, 10 goddamn years with absolutely no one- you were the first person to give her a chance. You were her friend. You stood up for her time and time again, you saved her from needing to go back- and now you're gone. She punches a tree and scratches at it and yells angry things in infernal. Her rage only simmers when Scratch and your owlbear cub come to her- she collapsed against the tree and holds them both, crying as her engine starts to cool.

Lae'zel is quiet. She helps Wyll carry you back- she might not be the best at reading emotions, at telling what is happening- but she's seen death before. She realized you were gone when Minsc and Halsin pulled you out. You were a hero- you saved her people, you saved her prince, you saved /her/. And now you were gone. She wonders if you felt as scared as she was, when the tadpole was the greatest threat to them back on the Nautiloid. She knows she didn't say it, but she considered you a true friend. She comes to you later in the night to lay your weapon in your hands. She notices the orchids, and leaves them within your hands as well before going to sit at the fire with Wyll. She's quiet.

Minsc? Minsc is optimistic. He's not stupid- he holds out hope you'll be fine, reassuring the others while they walk back to camp. Surely you were fine, Withers would make sure of it! But when Withers tells everyone the truth, Minsc isn't angry. He feels the sadness, Boo does too- they go to the shore and sit to stare at the water. Minsc has been around for awhile- he knows the finality of death. He, in a way, knows Tav will be okay. That you will return as a bird or a baby or maybe you won't, and you'll await them all in the final death- and he and Boo mourn you.

Jaheira is the one to arrange the coffin for Tav. She's familiar with the process- she's done it many times before for Harpers. She's gone all night getting an oak coffin for your burial, and returns with a few men in the early hours of the next morning. They move Tav into the coffin, careful not to disturb the weapon you held and the numerous flowers. Jaheira sheds tears for you- she brings you medicine, laying the plants in your casket around your head. Lilacs and lavender, cedar and sage cradle Tav's head in the coffin. She thanks you for the lives you saved, the ones you've avenged- for doing what you could.

When the funeral happens, the cathedral is full. When the dust settled and word of your deeds, of your battle, of your sacrifice spread across the city, hundreds come to mourn Tav. Tav the great, Tav the hero, Tav the brainslayer. Tav is knighted before the burial, and is buried in a cemetery in the upper city amongst other heroes of Baldur's Gate. Church bells ring, and taverns are filled with people drinking and singing in Tav's honour. Bards have somehow already come up with songs of Tav and the group- and truly, while the party will remain together, their hearts bleed for the leader they lost.

[whaledenwtf]

Halsin x Druid!Reader - The Forest's Calling

I'm currently HYPERFIXATING on Baldur's Gate 3. This is my love letter to Mount Halsin, the elf I would climb until my limbs fell off. You're welcome (or I'm sorry). Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link Enjoy!

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Choking, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), Kinky DRUID Forest Sex, Misuse of the Entangle Cantrip (hehe), Size Difference

I tried to keep Halsin in character as much as possible, but there is a significant change when y'all get funky

WORD COUNT: 4691

Nature calls to you, as it always had. The sounds of the forest have always been your favourite. Silvanus' creations had made you feel complete. The moss between your toes, and the swaying of trees; you had never felt so much peace during such perilous times. It's at times like this you are gracious for your god's teachings; nature is chaotic as it is gentle, and things will sort them out- if that is what is determined. This is how you kept such a level head during this adventure. Some of your companions saw your level-headedness as worrisome, but you always remind them that to persevere is in the forest's nature, and so it is in yours.

No good ever came from stressing over obstacles in your life.

"If you could stop thinking about the grass for five seconds, I'd appreciate you listening to me. Tch- tree huggers." Astarion tells you annoyed. You look into his crimson eyes and smirk.

"This tree hugger is your key to freedom. Unless you forgot about the tadpole in your brain." Astarion's eyes widen, before he smirks.

"Keep talking dirty, sweetheart. Might not resist taking a bite~" You chuckle.

"Settle down. Like I told you beforehand, we must seek out the Archdruid Halsin before we continue our journey. Nobody could come close to him in terms of knowledge-" Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

"Nobody could come close to the information about the ghaik than us githyanki. You istik entertain such useless ideas." You roll your eyes at her. Before you could speak up, Shadowheart speaks to the githyanki.

"Yes. I'm sure your barbaric race would know much more." She says sarcastically. "I, on the other hand, would much rather any other option besides yours." Before Lae'zel could fight back, Karlach speaks to them both.

"Shut the fuck up and kiss already. Wasting time when we could be slaying goblins and getting closer to being free. Stop fucking around and listen to (Y/N)." You nod your head in appreciation to the tiefling.

"Besides, even if Archdruid Halsin does not know how to help us, he may offer his services regardless. Leaving him with the goblins is a fate worse than death. His ally-ship will be indispensable." This appeases those in the group who were unsure of your leadership.

"Always the cunning one, aren't you sweetheart." Astarion speaks up. You turn your head and wink.

"Let's push forward and assist in any way we can." Wyll speaks up. Gale nods, looking over our group.

"Let's be smart and proactive, we do not want to lose eachother, nor do we want to get caught. We shall stay in hiding for as long as possible. Stealth is the best way forward with our little information we have." Astarion taps your chin.

"I like you like this." You smirk at him before leading the group to the Goblin Camp.

After killing every goblin in the vicinity, you all venture forward to a cage where a bear is roaming.

"A bear. He was probably going to be goblin fodder." Astarion says, smirking.

"Hush. Poor thing was being attacked by these goblins." Karlach speaks to him, bumping her shoulder into Astarions. He gasps, the wind being knocked out of him.

"Careful. I bruise like a peach!" He tells her angrily. She chuckles.

"And you're just as bitter as a rotten tomato-" Astarion bristles. You cut him off.

"Settle down, girls. We have time for play later. Show some respect. That bear is our charge." You unlock the iron gate before walking in alone.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Gale says worriedly, but you shush him. When the bear makes eye contact with you, you see the gold swirling in his eyes. His mouth opens to show his sharp teeth, a warning.

You bow down infront of the bear, laying a hand out towards his snout.

"Are you sure that's... wise, sweetheart?" Astarion asks, concerned. You ignore him before speaking.

"Archdruid Halsin, it is my absolute honour to stand before you. We have come here to free you from your imprisonment and bring you back to the Emerald Grove. May Silvanus preserve us." Without a beat, the bear transforms into a tall, handsome, elf. Your eyes widen at his stature, but more at his beauty.

"Ah, a fellow druid. Silvanus has certainly looked upon me in favour. Thank you for assisting me." You realize you are still kneeling, at crotch level with the Archdruid. Your eyes flicker to his pelvis, and eyes widen at what you see. You rise to your full height, which makes you eye level with his chest. Your head tilts to look into his eyes, and notice him watching you, with a small smirk. He saw you gazing at him, how embarrassing.

"Of course, Archdruid Halsin." He shakes his head softly, braids swaying with the movement.

"Please, call me Halsin. My savior shouldn't have to call me by such a title." You nod, before looking over your shoulder at your companions. They are all looking at the tall elf in shock.

"He just- he just turned into a man!" Astarion says out loud. You chuckle.

"Yes. My preferred wild shape is a bear." He responds to the shorter elf, not looking away from you, glancing over you in curiousity. You turn back to look at him. Your eyes stay locked while you speak to your party.

"Let us leave. We will bring Halsin back to the Emerald Grove and then we can rest. I want to wash off this gods-awful goblin blood before it stains my armour." Everyone nods at that. They turn to walk out, ready to escort Halsin back. You follow your group, Gale and Wyll leading you all forward.

"Thank you, little flower. I truly appreciate you aiding me." Halsin whispers to you, matching your strides behind the group. Little flower... the nickname made you giddy. You blush softly, the heat reaching to the peaks of your ears.

"I can't leave a fellow druid behind. Especially with what those goblins were doing to you." You shake your head, looking over him and the dried blood that caked him from his wild shape form. He chuckles at your worried gaze.

"Nonetheless, the Oakfather has blessed me with your assistance. I am indebted to you for life." You turn to look at him, his easy smile and warm eyes making you feel something... magical.

"The Oakfather has blessed us many times anew. The air we breathe, the ground we walk upon, the forests. But alas, I did come to release you because we need your assistance-" His eyes widen lightly, before he looks down at you.

"What do you need, little flower?" The way he speaks to you is soft, unconcerned of the questions you will ask him. His caring nature speaks to the softest parts of you.

"I will ask you once we bring you to the Emerald Grove. However, I must warn you-" You stop walking and grab his arm. Holy hells his arms are buff. You must have paused for a moment too long.

"What is wrong?" You shake your head at your own thoughts. You're acting like a toddler, instead of the adult elf you are.

"At the Emerald Grove... Kagha is planning to do the Rite of Thorns, and is releasing all the Tiefling refugees..." Halsin's eyes almost bug out of his head.

"We must stop them! That rite does more harm than good! Those Tieflings... fleeing towards death. It is not right!" You tell him passionately. He takes your hand from off his arm and grips it in both his large hands.

" We will stop them, little one." You nod. He continues to hold your hand.

"The shadow curse has been on my mind for so long, I cannot believe I trusted such a-" He shakes his head, cutting himself off.

"We will continue our trek and once we stop the rite, I will tell you all you need to know." You bite your lip.

"If I could help carry your burdens, I would." He chuckles, a light blush appearing on the apples of his cheeks.

"I'm sure you would, little flower. Now, let us continue our journey. I appreciate you warning me." He lets go of your hand and waves his hand out, gesturing you to go forward, so you do. You can't help the chill that you feel when his hands release yours.

After stopping the rite, you did speak to Halsin about the tadpoles. He sighs when he says he cannot heal you of your affliction. A shiver of fear goes through your body. If someone as knowledgeable with healing like Halsin cannot heal you, you cannot imagine how to move forward. Its then that he tells you that the Shadow-Cursed Lands may be the key to assisting you in your journey. You bite your lip worriedly.

"I will continue to assist you. I will follow your party and do what I can. Not only for the cursed lands, but also for you." He says it with such conviction, such passion, you cannot help but feel safe and warmed from his sentiments.

"I feel indebted to you Halsin. Truly." He shakes his head.

"You will be helping me much more than I, you." You smile up at him. He cannot help but be captured by the radiance of your smile. Oakfather preserve him, you are the most beautiful of his creations.

"I will help you with this shadow curse. Take back nature and restore balance. I just hope I don't grow any tentacles in that time." You say humourlessly, your laugh hollow. He grabs your chin with his hand, his thumb stroking the side of your face.

"I promise on all of the Oakfather's creations, I will not let anything happen to you." Your eyes flutter, and you glance down at his lips before looking back into his eyes.

"Thank you." You whisper to him. His attention is taken elsewhere, and his hand caresses down your neck before releasing you, and moving to the Tiefling asking for him.

You feel this feral need to have him, to help him. You're attracted to him, and you can tell this will be problematic. Oakfather preserve you.

That night, the Tieflings throw a party for you all. The music is loud, and you can see them enjoying themselves. You look over your companions and see all of them enjoying themselves; albeit in their own ways. While looking over the festivities, you see Halsin standing away, gazing over the festivities and people watching. Your eyes make contact and you blush.

"This wine tastes like goblin piss." Astarion tells you, gagging on the swig he just took. You chuckle at him, breaking eye contact with the handsome druid to look over at the vampire.

"Not your type of red drink?" You ask him flirtedly. He smirks at you and leans into you.

"No, sweetheart. My type of red is standing right next to me, as radiant as ever." His face gets close to your neck and he sniffs you deeply.

"All of a sudden, I am thirsting for something else." He tells you. You chuckle at his advances.

"Are you now?" You flirt back. He smirks down at you.

"You're much more fun to speak to like this, sweetheart. I can't help but want a taste." You giggle at him, before taking the wine from his hand and taking a couple mouthfuls.

"Oh gods it does taste like goblin's piss." You splutter out. He laughs at your turmoil.

"Oh darling, you make me laugh." He tells you. You grin at him.

"Glad my misfortunes bring you joy." He smiles at you, sharp teeth glinting in the campfire's light.

"Mm. The only thing that would bring me more joy in this moment is having a taste of you." His voice lowers to a whisper. You roll your eyes.

"Easy there. If I didn't know you better I'd say you're a bard, singing my praises so I could follow you to your tent for the night." You push his chest gently.

"I'm sure I can make you sing, sweetheart." He tells you, looking at you with a smirk.

"As much fun as we would have, I think you've had enough to drink." You tell him jokingly, waving the bottle of wine in his face. You take another swig, and swallow down the bitterness. You go to walk forward, the alcohol driving you to your destination; Halsin.

"Ah, my little flower! It seems you were having fun." Halsin tells you, smile on his face. The crease between his brows tells you that he'd much rather had been the one sniffing your neck, rather than Astarion. You feel a rush of confidence surge through you, aided by the alcohol in your system.

"I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere." You tell him confidently. He smirks at your words.

"Is that so? Well, I am honoured to have such attentions on me." He tells you in a whisper. You almost whimper at his words, feeling hot. You feel as though molten lava has replaced the blood in your veins, and the heat is centralized at the apex of your thighs. You rub them lightly, which catches the elder druid's attention.

"You could have much more than attentions on you tonight, Master Halsin." Your voice lowers to a whisper, and the effect is immediate. His eyes shine golden and his smile becomes wider, more primal. Just like in the Goblin Camp, it was a warning.

"Is that so, little flower? Are you offering yourself to me?" He asks you gently, taking a step forward. You are now flush with his body, and the carvings on his undershirt graze the peaks of your breasts deliciously, hardening them. You moan quietly, looking up at the gargantuan man through your eyelids.

"I'd like to explore you, Master Halsin. See if those rumours of your... generosity are true." You feel his arm wrap around your waist, his hand resting at the small of your back. His fingers seem to tighten, digging softly into your skin.

"You seem to enjoy calling me by my honourifics." You hum, smirking at him.

"I'm just calling you by title. You would like to be my master, would you not?" He growls lowly, much like a bear would.

"You're playing a dangerous game, little one." He tells you huskily. You giggle at him.

"The only games I would like to play are with you, Master." In his eyes you can see him having an inner battle. You take the hand on your waist in yours, which snaps him out of his inner turmoil. The alcohol is rushing through you now, your (very little) inhibitions non-existent now. You pull it closer to your face, before taking a thick finger in your mouth and worshipping it. You kiss at the pad of his forefinger before licking it; inevitably taking it into your mouth and sucking on it softly. He watches you entranced, groaning softly as you let go of his finger with a pop. You take his hand in yours, and pull him towards the edge of the camp, leading to the forest. Once you find the small grove in the forest, you let go of his hand, spinning in place and enjoying the silence of nature. He stays at the edge of the tree line, watching you with sharp eyes.

"Little flower-" Halsin says softly. You turn to look at the man with a smile.

"Our worries are for dawn. With the moonlight shining on us, and the trees as our witness, I would like to show you the pleasures of the flesh, as nature intended." He groans loudly now, far enough from the camp that your voices would not carry.

"I'm afraid to lose myself. The beast-" You pull off your nightshirt, exposing your breasts in the moonlight. You then pull off your pants and undergarments in one shot, fully baring yourself to his sight. He inhales deeply, eyes looking at you up and down multiple times. You begin to to dance sensually, your hips seeming to beckon him forward. He takes a couple of uncertain steps.

"Halsin. I am not one so easily afraid of beasts. Let me help you forget your woes for a night." His resolve seems to crumble, and he runs to you, leaving you both chest to chest.

"Little flower, I will devour you-" You moan, pulling his hair to bring him to your lips. His chapped lips touch yours, and it feels as if there is magic flowing through your bodies. His hands find purchase under your thighs, lifting you up into him. Your legs wrap around his waist, and you moan into his mouth. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, persuading you to open your mouth to his. Your tongues find each other, and a battle of dominance begins. You lose easily, his gifted tongue prodding and licking at yours with wanton need. You release each other to inhale deeply. He inhales from his nose and groans.

"I can smell your need, little one." You whimper, looking into his eyes.

"You're overdressed, Master Halsin. Allow me to undress you." He lets you down out of his embrace, and you begin to untuck his sleepshirt out from his pants and over his head. You begin to untie his pants, helping him out of them as well. That's when you notice he is wearing no undergarments, and his cock is thick and long, closer to the length of your forearm. You whimper, falling to your knees and looking up at him.

"You don't need to please me-" You cut him off.

"I want your cock to hit the back of my throat until I am unable to speak." He moans loudly, before your hand grasps him at the shaft.

"The Oakfather blessed me with such a giving partner. I- Oh Silvanus-" You take him in your mouth, licking at the tip. You taste his musk, and he tastes like pine and mint, and something that makes you absolutely feral. Without a care for your own wellbeing, you try to swallow him whole, his tip hitting the back of your throat, and then some. He groans, eyes closing as one hand finding itself locked in your hair and the other forming a fist at his thigh.

"That's right little druid, take Master's cock into the back of your throat." His voice goes down an octave, and you feel a rush of slick leave you. Taking him out of your mouth, you kiss the shaft downward until you take his heavy balls in your mouth and suckle. You're panting with need, moaning into his skin. You let go of him, one hand stroking his cock and the other inching down your body to touch your cunt. He looks down at you then with hooded eyes, and moans again.

"Are you touching your needy cunt, little flower? I cannot wait to fill you with my seed until your entire being is satiated." You moan, needing him back in your mouth. You remove the hand on his shaft and deepthroat him again, only getting two thirds of his member into your mouth. You hear your need, the wet sounds coming from your pussy only arousing you further. He begins to thrust into your mouth and you choke on him. After making sure you were alright, he continues his movements, thrusts getting rougher. The hand in your hair tightens and pulls you off his cock, as he growls.

"I will pound your quim until you are unable to walk without my healing, little one." His hands grip your upper arms and lifts you up to stand. Your face is smeared with his precum and your spittle. Once you are stable on your two feet, he kisses you passionately and you moan into him. His hands are touching you everywhere. His touch is searing hot. His hands find themselves at your breasts, rubbing and pinching the peaks of them.

"O-Oh Halsin. Don't stop." He chuckles into your ear.

"I'm not planning to stop until dawn shows itself." You whimper at his words, thrusting your chest deeper into his ministrations. You hear Halsin whisper before your hands are being pulled behind you, tightly grasped. Your feet are also held up, spreading your legs open. You notice that vines grew from the ground and are holding you up like a platter to Halsin.

"As much as I love your touch, little one, I don't want you to push me off when I get a taste of your ambrosia." You moan loudly, almost caterwauling for the elder druid.

His large hands caress up your leg, massaging the skin of your calves, before going higher.

"I wish you could see yourself as I do in this moment, little flower. You're exquisite; truly one of Silvanus' greatest creations." You blush, heaving.

"H-Halsin, please-" He chuckles at your enthusiasm.

"Don't fret, you will be chanting my name soon enough." His confidence is addicting, you could feel how drenched you were even with your legs spread so far apart. His hands finally reach close to your core, and he spreads your slit further open to look at you. You could feel your hole contracting, as if begging for an intrusion.

"By the gods... Look at your tight cunt begging for my cock. Can't wait to have a taste." You feel his breath on you. You look down and see him watching you, as his hands slide up to your breasts to play with your nipples like he had before. The first stroke of his tongue on your clit sent a sensation of pleasure up your spine. You struggle against your bonds, with an insatiable urge to grasp his hair and tug him deeper into you.

His tongue then ventures lower, tasting your essence. He moans loudly into your body, the vibrations of his moan pleasing you greatly. He continues licking you, tasting you as he tweaks your nipples, tugging before massaging. You felt powerless against the bonds, barely hearing anything more than the rush of blood in your ears.

"Your nectar... is just like honey. I can't wait to have you cum on my tongue multiple times." You moan. You can tell you're already close to your precipice, his words, moans and tongue vibrating and licking against your clit deliciously.

"Please... please Master Halsin-" He groans at the honourific. He plunges his tongue into you, lapping you at your source. His nose nudges your clit and that sets off your orgasm. You feel yourself leak onto him, his tongue cleaning your mess. You're shaking with oversensitivity, but he does not stop. One of the hands on your breast caress back down the length of your body, before he pulls away from your core. He grins up at you as he thrusts two of his thick fingers into you. He curls them, as you begin to shake harder.

"That's it, little one. Let all those in the forest know who is making you feel like this, making you cum and feel pleasure-" His words go straight to your core, and more of your slick leaks around his fingers.

"Halsin-H-Halsin- Oh GODS-" His lips wrap around your clit, sucking and licking at you. The attention was too much; you cum again. This time, you can feel much more than slick leave your body- did I squirt? You wonder to yourself, as your body is now lashing against the constraints. You didn't have much time to think about it, as he pulls his fingers out to taste you, moaning. You look down at him, panting. He spreads you open again, this time with both hands, before his tongue is back in you, tasting you like you were water and he was a man dehydrated. You whimper, begging him to give you reprieve. He pulls off of you, his mouth and chin covered in your release. He was panting, his eyes glowing a bright amber.

"You have no idea what you unleashed, little one." He growls out. You feel the vines dissipate. You're laid on the forest ground gently. Before he could move, you flip yourself over with enthusiasm, laying your upper body parallel to the floor and your lower body in the air. You wiggle your ass, one of your hands going between your legs and spreading yourself open. You look over your shoulder and look him directly in the eye. He is watching you with wonder, before you speak.

"Breed me, Master Halsin. Empty your seed in me and fuck me into a stupor." He growls, before kneeling behind you.

"I'll make sure you can't walk for weeks, little one. I'll spread you nice and good." You feel the tip of his cock at your entrance. He rubs himself up and down your slit, gathering your juices.

"Look how wet you are. Such a good little druid for me." You whimper at his words. Without warning he thrust into you, going to the hilt. His heavy balls hit against your clit, and your mouth goes open in a silent scream. He begins a brutal pace, pounding into you. One of his hands reach around your body, his large hand grasping your neck. His hold is tight, but not painfully so. You feel lightheaded, all your senses being overwhelmed by the Archdruid. You feel as though your floating, the only thing tying you to this plane of existence is the continuous thrusts from the elf behind you. You felt as though you were split open repeatedly, his cock reaching places in you that you were unsure existed before today. He growls as he pounds into you, and you begin to feel claws against your neck, before they retract.

"You make me feral, little one. I'm gonna fill you with my seed, fill you with pups." You moan, breathless. His thrusts begin to falter, but they seem to go deeper. You feel yourself fluttering around him, as you gasp.

"I-I'm close." You whisper to him. He groans.

"I feel you fluttering around me, little one." He chokes out. After a handful of thrusts he cums with a shout, and you constrict around him, cumming once more. You feel his seed in you, so abundant that it leaks out around him. You both pant for a couple seconds. He releases your neck and you gasp an inhale.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks you softly. You shake your head enthusiastically.

"N-no. Oh gods Halsin. I am unsure how I will walk right ever again." You tell him breathlessly. He chuckles at that, caressing your back and thighs with gentleness. You feel him slowly pull out of you, taking care to not punish your core anymore. You whimper at the loss, feeling your mixed spend leaking out of you. He flips you over softly, wanting to look you over. His hand goes to finger you lazily. You shriek, body seizing up.

"Not a drop goes to waste." He tells you huskily. After a couple moments, he pulls his fingers out too, and directs them to your mouth. You suckle on the digits, the taste arousing you once more. You both look into each other's eyes as you did this. Once he removes his fingers from your mouth, his lips replace it, tasting both of you on his tongue. He groans into your lips. You kiss for a couple moments, before you both need to separate so you could inhale. You felt utterly spent. He goes to lie down next to you, and your eyes follow him.

His hands begin to massage your sore muscles, before pulling you onto him. You felt utterly spent. He holds you into a lover's embrace and you can't help but sigh into his chest, caressing his pectorals and cuddling into him. You feel his lips on the crown of your head, leaving a trail soft pecks and kisses. You both lay there, absorbing the beauty of nature and speaking about your lives before the parasite and the shadow curse until the sun rose.

END

[amandacanwrite]

A Plain Stack of Parchment - Gale x Tav/reader

Pairing || Urchin Backstory Tav/Reader (unspecified gender) x Professor Gale

POV || Second Person

Length || 3,200 words

Scenario || Gale has tasked you with writing your wedding invites so that he can finally take them to the courier. The only problem is, you don't have anyone to send invites to. In hopes of smoothing over the conversation in which you finally tell him that you really don't have any family, you attempt to make dinner....and destroy his beautiful kitchen in the process.

A/n || This is my first piece of fanfic I've ever shared publicly, please be kind to me about it. I don't really know what the rules are. This has been brewing in my head for days, though and I must get it OUT.

“Are you asking me to marry you?” you’d asked. 

“Hah…I suppose I am,” he’d responded.

He’d carried on about how much Tara would love it, and of course his mother. Words to fill the silence while you’d found yourself bound in stunned silence; words to cover his nerves while you’d worked through the shock of having been asked to join his family. 

Family…a real family. You’d never had one before. It had been an easy answer to give, a joyful one to give. 

“I accept. I’ll marry you, Gale Dekarios.”

He’d begun to prattle on again in that way that you’d loved and it’d been impossible not to smile as he spoke about arrangements. That was until he’d said it. 

“--And you’ll have invites of your own to send out, I’m sure…but that’s all to come.”

You’d not had much time to worry about it, though. Moments later he was kissing you, his fingers curled into the hair at the nape of your neck in that way that always made you melt. You could worry about this conversation another time, you’d told yourself. 

But that time never came around. Gale had accepted his position as professor at Blackstaff, and you both had spent so many long nights on repairing the crown of Karsus so that he could finally be free of netherese magic inhabiting the space so dangerously close to his heart. The day Mystra cured him was one you’d remember forever, because you were both finally free of not only the danger looming over your love for one another, but from the ghost of the past Mystra had been since you’d met him. 

But now? Now you felt regret. 

Gale was working late–a problem student he took on as a project needed his help. He implored you for the umpteenth time to please finish your invitations. They really must be sent out, dearest, if our families are to have time to travel for the wedding. 

How could you tell him you had nothing to send out? How could you explain that you didn’t come with a family; didn’t come with any kind of support system? 

His mother had accepted you as one of her own so quickly. Tara had become just as doting and fussy over you as over the wizard himself. But you couldn’t give him that in return–with your there would be no inlaws, no great aunts, no distant cousins…no grandparents should you decide to have a family of your own one day…

You looked at the optimistic stack of parchment he’d left for you, the quills, two pots of ink. He’d even left you his very own signet ring to press the Dekarios clan crest into your sealing wax, so ready for you to join his family that he would let you claim his name prematurely. 

You wondered if that would change once he knew…once he knew that you’d always been scrappy and alone before the tadpoles and nautiloid brought you and the others together. That was why you’d done everything that you did. It was why you helped Astarion destroy Cazador, why you did everything you could to figure out how to fix Karlach’s infernal engine, even now. It’s why you lifted the shadowcurse for Halsin and helped Wyll rescue his father. It’s why you’d urged Shadowheart to endure the pain of her curse…

Because they all had family, and with time they’d become your family. You’d wanted so long to have one, to have a reason to be good. No one had ever asked after you–where you’d come from, how you became who you were. And you were relieved to not have to tell the truth of the matter. 

You were unloved. 

Thrown away by a mother who couldn’t care for you and living off of scraps you could find in the streets or coin you could slip out of the pockets of strangers. 

So all you could do was stare at that pile of parchment and try to scrape every recess of your memory for anyone; any single godsdamned person to send a wedding invitation to. Damn Gale Dekarios for sending off the ones for your old companions. At least you would have had something to show when he got home today. 

In the end, you gave up. You took the time to put the fine linen parchment away and place the ink pots back on the shelf with the others. You placed the sharpened quills back in the glass goblet he kept dozens of others and…and simply placed the signet ring in the middle of his writing desk where he’d left you hours before. 

And then you decided you would make dinner. 

Gale always cooked, even after his longest of days. You’d offered to do it many times but he always insisted that he liked to cook. That he liked to feed you. 

But the sun was setting lazily behind the Waterdhavian horizon, and Gale was certain to be exhausted after dealing with his problem student all evening. Dinner was the least you could do. Sure, you were never much of a cook, but it couldn’t be that hard to roast a chicken and some vegetables, right? There was certainly no shortage of recipe books in the tower. You were the savior of Baldur’s Gate, you’d taken down an elder brain! Certainly you could figure out cooking a bird. 

You got to work. 

Things seemed to be going pretty alright at the start of it, too. Coat the skin in butter and herbs; check. Scallop the potatoes; check? At least you thought that’s what a scalloped potato looked like. Blanch the asparagus…what did blanching mean?    

 Okay. No asparagus then. Gale could be a meat and potatoes man for one night, couldn’t he?

When you put the chicken and potatoes in the oven to roast and started working on reducing some red wine and spices for a sauce that things started to go south. Things started to go south very, very fast.

First, you realized the red you grabbed was not a Waterdhavian red as you’d thought, but a bottle of fire wine. Fire wine was already heavily spiced, so the the spices you added would be too much. Okay, okay–so, you would try again. 

But when you lifted the saucepan to…hide the evidence somewhere, you also spilled that fire wine directly onto the stove, directly into the flame. You eyes landed on the quickly spilling liquid just as the puddle ignited.

“Oh, for fuc–”

The explosion was nothing less than spectacular; it sent you sprawling across the room, smashing into the brick wall on the other end of the kitchen. The room filled up with black smoke as you tried and failed to get back up to your feet. Your head was spinning and you could barely get a breath in your lungs. 

Shit, shit, shit. You needed to get up. You needed to get up and figure out how to clean this up before Gale got home. He was no stranger to explosions, sure. But gods help the man or woman that prevented him from making his morning cup of tea and enjoying it at the kitchen table. 

You steeled yourself. “Come on. Savior of Baldur’s gate. Come on, get up,” you said. 

But as you slowly got up onto shaky legs you heard a familiar voice booming through the room. A second later, a great storm cloud formed above you and then doused the room in torrential rain. Your soft-soled boots caught on the wet tile floor and you slipped, falling to the ground again. Gale had casted Create Water. 

“Nine hells,” he shouted as he ran over to you, cupping your sooty face in his rough hewn hands. “Are you alright, my love?”

His hands patted over your body, then. Your arms, your hands, bending and extending your legs, checking your ribs. “Is anything broken?”

“I’m fine,” you coughed out. “Just…wet. And embarrassed.”

“Better than being incinerated. Did I leave something out–we’re working on disarming traps in class and–”

“No, no,” you said. “I–I was just trying to make dinner.”

His face contorted into an expression that looked almost affronted. “Make dinner?” he said, sounding confused. 

He looked back at the smouldering wreckage of his kitchen. “Oh no,” he said as he slumped onto his knees and slipped his hands into his wavy, brown hair. “What have you done?”

He must not have fully registered the room he’d doused, which you supposed was very sweet in it’s own way. He’d only hurried to make sure you were okay, he didn’t think for a moment on the damage. At least not at first. 

“I just…I thought that you would like to come home to dinner prepared for you, for once. I was trying to surprise you,” you said. 

“Well you most certainly succeeded in that, didn’t you?” he asked, his tone biting. “This is just what I needed after dealing with Jeremi all day. To leave a destroyed classroom to come home to a destroyed kitchen. Just–fantastic.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I just–”

“Tell me that you at least got your invitations done,” he snapped. “That this wasn’t some sorry excuse for a distraction from planning our wedding? That you didn’t destroy my kitchen and almost kill yourself and potentially Tara so that you could claim you forgot again?”

He looked at you, his brown eyes tired and a little sad. You almost wished you had been incinerated. You knew he didn’t need to use Detect Thoughts to read your mind. You were certain your expression said it all. 

“Your silence speaks volumes,” he said as he stood up and started cataloging the extent of the damage. 

You knew he’d just had a bad day, that the vitriol was more because of the late hours and the unpleasant surprise. The sharpness of his tone still cut like a knife. It was all you could do to sit there and watch him clean up after you. 

You usually loved to watch him do little mundane tasks with his magic. You found the delicate flourishes of his hands so charming, loved the spark of joy in his eyes as the weave spun to meet him. But watching him now, watching his sharp, staccato movements as he zipped recipe books back into place and disappeared broken glass into some pocket dimension…you felt like an utter failure of a partner to him. 

You just sat there while he worked, wanting to get up and help, but afraid that another sharp comment would eviscerate you. You’d had disagreements with him before, of course. And he had been sharp with you about a few of your more adventurous choices (he still brought up the time you licked a dead spider once in a while.) But he had never been truly, truly angry with you. Not like this. 

He opened the demolished stove and took out the raw bird sitting on the bed of potatoes. He hissed out a tight breath and brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I have a feeling I am not ready to hear the answer to this question, but have you changed your mind?” he asked. 

The question took you by surprise. “Changed my mind?” you asked. “About what?”

“What do you think?” he snapped, looking at you. “About the wedding. About…about marrying me.”

“What?” you asked. “Of course I haven’t changed my mind, why would you ever think something like that? I’m more excited than I’ve ever been to be a part of your family.”

“Then why?” he asked. “Why have you been avoiding writing your invitations. I have asked you to do them at least half a dozen times now, and every time you have some excuse to tell me. ‘Oh, I just got caught up in this book.’ ‘Sorry, dearest–the tadpole headache strikes again.’ And now? Now dinner?”

“Is it a crime for me to want to make dinner for my intended?” you said. 

“My love. My flawless, exquisite, darling,” he said. “You are many things. A gifted fighter, an astonishing leader, an excellent dancer, and none too shabby beneath the sheets. But you. Are not. A cook. I allowed you to cook ONE time. A singular time in our travels together and do you remember what happened?”

You pouted. “Everyone got sick,” you grumbled in a low voice. 

“YES! Everyone GOT SICK,” he shouted. “Everyone got so sick that we had to spend THREE DAYS in camp. And do you remember what you swore to me that day?”

“That I would never cook for people again,” you said. 

“THAT YOU WOULD NEVER COOK FOR PEOPLE AGAIN!” he shouted triumphantly. “So then, why, my love. Why would you be cooking now if not to avoid sending your wedding invitations? And why would you want to avoid sending your invitations unless you had changed your mind about spending the remainder of your days with me?”

You nibbled on your lip and exhaled, looking down at your soot-covered hands. 

“I don’t…” you said, almost choking on the words, almost looking for a lie. “Gale, I don’t have anyone to send invitations to. And every time I think to tell you that, I get terrified that you’ll realize the mistake you made in proposing to someone who brings nothing to the table.”

“No one to send invitations to?” he asked, seeming surprised. He looked at you with a quirked eyebrow.  “No, I’m sure that isn’t true. We’ve talked about your family before, haven’t we?”

“Not that I remember,” you said. 

“During our travels, you…we…we shared stories,” he said. “All of those times around the campfire. The nights alone between us.”

You watched as his eyes became distant, as if he’s searching his memory for some cache of data he’s stored about you. He smoothed his hand over his chin before covering his mouth with his hand. His brow furrowed and his expression saddened before he dropped his hand and crossed his arms. 

“Gods,” he said. “Every story you told us, everything you shared…tales of treachery, of bar fights and street brawls, the times you told us you almost lost a hand. All the times you told us about those…strange meals you would scrounge up with that glimmer of warm nostalgia in your eyes.”

He walked slowly over to you and kneeled in front of where you sat, still soaked to the bone and covered in soot. He took your hand in his and squeezed your fingers. 

“I may be an impressive scholar, but I am a fool, my love,” he said. “All of this time together and I was always so caught up in how lovely it felt to be truly accepted and understood. All the times you told me that I was enough for you as I am and I couldn’t even spare the proper courtesy of asking you about your family. You must think me an ogre of a man.”

You forced a little airy laugh from your lungs and shrugged. “Not much to tell about,” you said weakly, swallowing as your throat became uncomfortably tight. “Nothing really at all.”

You bit the inside of your lip and looked down at your hands again, willing yourself not to cry. You promised yourself a long time ago not to cry over this anymore. No one got to pick their hand in life, it was useless to cry over it. 

Gale cupped your cheek in his hand, angling your chin up again so you’d meet his eyes again. “I asked you to write invites to a family you didn’t have. Then you tried to make dinner for me when you couldn’t do it, and I shouted at you for ruining my kitchen. Please forgive me, my love. I have been a miserable, self-centered ass.”

“I’ll forgive you if you forgive me for ruining your kitchen?” you offered.

“You have yourself a bargain,” he said.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first; chaste, even. It reminded you of your first kiss with the girl who sold papers in the lower city. But then it changed. He scooped the hand cupping your chin back into your hair, curling the locks around his fingers before smoothing his free hand up your thigh, gripping your leg and pulling you closer. 

He hitched you up onto his hips and stood, still surprisingly strong despite the more sedentary life you both were living these days. You draped your arms over his shoulders, loosely hooking your fingers together as you tilted your head, parting your lips to breathe in that ever present scent of cinnamon and warm tea. 

He let out a low hum, the sound of his buzzing against your mouth. 

He parted from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours as he sat you down on the charred countertop. “You are lovely,” he said. “Your beauty, your generosity? As intoxicating as any glass of wine.”

You let out a little huff and are surprised when you feel a few drops of wetness fall onto your cheeks. Gale tuts, backing up just far enough to swipe that wetness away with the rough pad of his thumb. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “I…I never cry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize,” he said. “Don’t you even think about it.”

You gave a sheepish smile and exhaled, nodding once. 

“You know what?” he said. “The kitchen can wait.”

“But your morning tea…” you said. 

“Tomorrow, you and I will get tea together at that little bakery I haven’t had a chance to show you, yet. And tonight? Tonight we’ll walk to the vendor down the road, we’ll get some delicious Waterdhavian street food and we won’t think at all about the origin of said food, trust me, it’s not worth it,” he said. “And then we will cuddle up on the balcony and I will ask you extensively and exhaustively about your life before you met me.”

“What if you don’t like what you hear?” you asked. “What if I was never honest, or smart? What if I didn’t have a wholesome youth like you did?”

“My love,” he said. “When you met me I was a man with a tadpole in my brain and an orb in my chest that would level the whole of Waterdeep if I didn’t eat your precious magic artefacts. I was a man who tried to become a god, and when I thought of making the same mistake a second time, you’re the one who talked sense back into me. You’re the one who showed me that I was worthy of love, just like this.”

You smiled and nodded as he kissed your forehead. “You’re a remarkable wizard of great renown,” you teased. 

“I’m just a man, and a teacher with a student who seems intent on torturing me,” he said. “I’m also remarkably humble.”

“And?” you said. 

“And nothing you do or say could make me stop loving you,” he said, “Not even you…destroying my beautiful, wonderful kitchen.”

“I thought I was forgiven,” you said with a look. 

“I have most certainly forgiven, but I have not yet forgotten, my love,” he said. 

“Perhaps I could remedy that tonight, after your questions,” you suggested, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Give you a bit of a distraction.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you made me forget something with your diversions,” he said. “That sounds like the perfect way to end the night.”

“Well, then, let’s get cleaned up and go buy some of that questionable food,” you said. 

“With pleasure.”

[happy-beeeps]

Naïveté

Summary: Astarion begins to reconcile with the fact he might have fallen for you, only to worry you've caught an interest in someone else. Earllllllly act 2, minor spoilers for act 2!

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav

Warnings/tags: fluff, miscommunication if you squint, jealous!astarion, platonic!wyll x tav, slightly ooc Astarion because I'm still learning to write him so be nice PLEASE😭🥺

WC: 2k

a/n: I'm finishing a character sheet for tav so we can have her backstory, but she's who I've been using this playthrough and I've been really enjoying her story. When I post on Ao3 she'll have a name, but I'm going to leave her unnamed here! Also, will have a seperate BG3 spot on my masterlist soon!

It’s late at camp, and by the time you finish indulging in a bottle of wine with Karlach, you figure you’re the only one still up. It’s been a long night, and an even longer few days, spent trudging through the grimy depths of the Shadowcursed lands and just barely making it out of the encounter with Marcus alive. Isobel had given you the ability to travel freely, but all you could do was set up camp near the inn.

The firelight is dim when you make your way back from the secluded spot near Karlach’s tent, and Astarion’s tent is sealed tightly. You contemplate going over, just peaking your head in to see if he’s deep in trance yet, but you change your mind. After your previous night’s conversation, you’re still not sure on speaking terms. It plays out over and over again in your mind. Naive, he’d called you, your heart was too big. 

You tried to be reasonable. You were naive. You were young, and perhaps no one but Wyll new exactly how young. To be ninety as an elf was to be just becoming an adult. No one else had known, no else had asked, including Astarion. You chalked it up to his truly immortal lifespan, he hadn’t cared about aging for 200 years, why start now?

Still, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him, or the thrill that shook your bones when he would quietly rush into your tent each morning, murmuring the incantation for lesser restoration. You still thought of the way he looked at Gale when he asked to consume that locket all those days back. “I’m glad you let him suffer for a moment, darling,” he’d murmured into your ear that night, his breath tingly on your neck, “That one’s ours.”

There’d been other nights since your first night together, while you hadn’t slept together in completion since, all passion and teeth and sweat. Sometimes you’d just kiss him, wrapped up in nothing else but this bliss of arms and scent. Lately though, he’d been closed off—distant. His conversation the previous night had come out of nowhere, as if you were standing on the doorstep of Moonrise Towers that very instant. 

You were so lost in your own thoughts, consumed of Astarion, that you nearly missed Wyll’s form standing near the dimming fire, moving around in a dance you actually recognized.

“I hope I’m not interrupting practice,” you smiled, giving the man ample warning before you stumbled into his rehearsal. 

Wyll wheeled on you, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. “It’s one of those old courting dances, it’d be a cold day in the hells before I’d ever forget them.”

“Oh I’m quite familiar,” you murmured, thinking back to your own youth, your own debutante ball, before you lost everything. “Everyone else around here forgets I come from taste.”

Wyll snorts, “Sure don’t smell like it.”

Your friendship with Wyll is a special thing. No one else can understand what it felt like to be from a Noble family, the expectations and the experience it comes with. When your family had been killed and their wealth assumed, you were completely on your own. Learning how to pickpockets and lie had not been a part of your expensive and tasteful education.

Dancing, however, came second nature.

You move to stand in front of him without really thinking, decades of experience guiding your motions. “Go on, let’s see what you can do.”

He’s a fine partner, moving cautiously around you and guiding your hand easily. Even when he brings you closer for a slightly more intimate dance, his hands nor his eyes never stray. 

“I wonder what I’d have done if I ever saw you at one of the balls my father sent me too.” He murmurs.

“I’m certain you did. Though you would’ve been young. I haven’t been in nearly a decade.”

He chuckles, and clucks his tongue for a moment, “Just practically a baby, far to young to approach Fey nobility.” Before bowing in front of you and wishing you goodnight. There’s the smallest beat where he looks at you as if he has something to say. You look at him for the smallest moment. It would be so easy to love him, if you were anyone else. He’s exactly who your father would have picked for you, save his humanity. But, despite it, you can’t. You can’t fake the flutter you get when you Astarion’s cold hands tickle your fingers, or the tickle of his hair on your cheek when he’s pressed against your neck. You’re not naive enough to admit this to Astarion, but from the fleeting glance you send to his tent, you can see that Wyll already knows. He leaves you with a knowing glance and a soft goodnight. You go back to your own tent, happy to have removed the thought of the curse, of Ketheric, and even of your own problems for just a moment.

So full of contentedness in fact, you don’t notice the scarlet eyes peering at you from the slat of their tent, a whirlwind of emotions cascading over them.

* * *

Astarion doesn’t hide his mild disdain for Wyll, or anyone to be fair, to begin with, but the following morning he bears down on the man like an ogre. “I didn’t anticipate you being quite so light on your feet. The Blade stands at the ready, and also ready to pirouette, I suppose?”

Wyll rolls his eyes at Astarion’s quip, used to the sarcasm, but somewhat surprised at the intensity of the rogue’s grip on his arm. “Wasn’t aware I couldn’t have past times.”

“By all means feel free to entertain us with a ballet in between slaughters,” his voice hushes as you walk by, looking at the two men skeptically, “I’d just prefer if your duets didn’t happen whilst I’m trying to read.”

Wyll follows Astarion’s slightly fleeting to his retreating gaze. You’re standing behind him, out of earshot, leaning against Lae’zel’s tent while she sharpens your sword. Astarion’s stare is enough to allow him to piece everything together. “Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Only if you accept that I may ignore it entirely.”

“She’s wonderful. And she’s made her choice without giving anyone else a chance. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it, wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

Wyll walks away, and Astarion is left alone again with his thoughts. Contrary to Wyll’s belief, he thinks it might actually kill him to get to know you. He’s been balancing precariously on his fight to not let himself be fully consumed by you and your grace, your goodness. You were a spoilt little thing, he was sure of that, and he had meant what he said that night by the water. It didn’t mean it hurt his chest more when your face fell. “Naive?” there was a crack in your cool, crafted facade. Genuine hurt had settled there for a moment, and something akin to disappointment. He hadn’t known how to face you since, hadn’t known how to say “I’m sorry! I’m falling for you and can’t help it and I’m terrified!”

So instead he said nothing at all, and resolved to say something later.

* * *

You had just gotten back to camp for the night, Karlach nearly giggling at the amount of gold she had stuffed in her pockets from the tollhouse. You had noticed Astarion’s eyes on you, heavy and pensive, when you had dealt with the Master of Coin, how easily you’d convinced her to simply cease to be. That was perhaps the easiest transition from nobility to rogue you had, the gift of a silver tongue and wide, batting eyes.

You changed into your camp clothes and watched Karlach throw gold pieces at an increasingly irritated Lae’zel, Gale standing nearby doing his best to keep spirits high in this eerie camp, working with whatever cured meats and cheeses you still had to attempt to make a dinner. You had changed into camp clothes and grabbed one of the books you had found in the tollmaster’s office, a shockingly smutty romance novel that had to be even older than you. It was quiet in the corner you found, somewhere even Halsin’s booming laugh had faded into quiet background noise. You tried to not think about your surroundings, about your increasing frustration with Astarion, or the odd way his gaze had hung on you all day. 

“I’m always impressed by that tongue of yours, petal.” The vampire’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and he settled beside you on the ground, arms behind him as he reclined easily next to you.

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and the pet name. “Yet you’ve been leaving me and my tongue to our thoughts the past few days.” You huffed, flipping the book to the next page, though not really reading any of it 

If Astarion could blush, he looked as if he would. “We’ve been a bit busy darling. I’ve been…strategizing.”

“Strategizing?”

“Precisely.”

The quiet overtook the two of you. After being so distant, if he didn’t want to come to you, then so be it. You could not—would not–crack first. He could not even begin to know the bubbling furnace of your feelings, or you’d be positively done for.

“How old are you?”

His question strikes you, strikes you enough that you set the book off to the side and face him. “At what point did you start to ask me questions?”

“When I realized I had done something to anger my favorite companion,” his fingers reach out and trace small patterns on your skin. “How old are you?”

“Ninety.” Your voice moves to a whisper at the end of the word, and his eyebrows quirk.

“Only ninety and yet alone. And Balduran?”

“Yes, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventy five.”

“Something happened,” he rocks upward, now sitting nearer to you. “You weren’t supposed to be like this.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’m so naive.” It comes out more bitter than you meant, but oh well. He deserved it.

“Naive wasn’t the right word,” he looks like he’s fighting himself to turn out the next sentence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

You smile softly, laying a hand on top of his. “I don’t know if I believe that, but I appreciate the apology.”

He grins, his deep set smile lines settling in your favorite way. “Tell me about your childhood.”

You shrug, “There’s not much to say. I was an only child, an only daughter. I used to play the lyre, learn languages, paint–”

“You come from nobility.”

“I sort of thought it was obvious,” you shrug and tap your knee against his, “I wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of a campground, much less learning the ways of a rogue.”

“What were you supposed to be?”

“A wife, I guess.”

“And while I’m sure suitors everywhere are devastated, I much prefer my rogue.”

My. You don’t say anything and neither does he. You let the word hang there, testing to see if he reaches back to grab it, but he doesn’t. It gets quiet for a moment after that, and you can see him spinning the illusion in his head. You, swathed in organza, spinning around a marble ballroom, entertaining suitors. 

“Is that why you danced with Wyll?”

“Ah,” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder. You love these fleeting moments of intimacy, where you can both pretend to be nothing more than lovers on an adventure. “So this was spurred by jealousy?”

“As if I have anything to be jealous over Wyll. He wishes he looked half as good as me.” His words lack their normal bite, and he turns his head softly, so he’s speaking quietly, just to you. “But perhaps in the future you’d let me take you for a spin.”

You press your hand against his on the ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

There’s so much more you both want to say, confessions on the precipice of both your minds, but you say nothing. You idle together a touch longer, hands resting against each other, pretending neither of you can get hurt, envisioning a world where it’s him spinning you across the dance floor in a world where you could have each other.

[gaysindistress]

Things I think would happen if you were in a relationship with Karlach

Main masterlist I swear I’m working on a bg3 masterlist

1. Starting a relationship isn’t easy

You have no idea if she actually likes you and all of your advances feel like they’ve failed. She’s friendly to everyone and puts so much faith into your party that you cant gauge her approval of you. Numerous times you’ve tried to make a subtle move but with nothing to show. She always greets you with the same energy as she does everyone else. She gives you all the same smile and excitement. She supports everyone without a second thought. She politely rejects your affection every time you try to give her even a shred of what you truly want to.

The night of the tiefling party comes around and you’ve finally worked up the courage to just tell her. I imagine that you’ve enlisted Shadowheart and Astarion to help you get ready and they’ve spent hours at this point doing so. Your hair has been washed and styled by Astarion’s nimble fingers while Shadowheart has lightly painted your face with makeup she’s made from the foliage around your camp. Wyll and Gale both have stopped in theirs tracks to compliment you as well as having agreed to keep Karlach busy and away from you. Lae’zel has been sitting by the entire time pretending to be sharpening her swords but also adding her own input every now and then. At one point she took over braided because Astarion didn’t get them tight enough and she can’t stand it.

When the others have decided that you’re ready, they huddle around with nervous energy and give you a big thumbs up as you walk away. By now Karlach has figured out that something is going on however it’s not until she sees you that it full registers. Her breath catches as she looks over to see you walking her way. She’s always thought you were beautiful but the moonlight and general joy of the evening gives you a glow she can’t ignore. Like the moon goddess herself, you seem to radiate the night sky’s beauty and she can’t help but stare at you with an open mouth. She almost doesn’t hear your shy greeting and has to shake herself back to reality.

Your entire conversation feels like a dream and she almost doesn’t believe that she hears you right when you confess your feelings for her. There’s no way that the leader of her party, the Hero of the grove likes her, right? Surely you’re good friends with everyone and you’re just making your rounds. Surely your dressed up look tonight is meant for someone else. Surely there’s no way that you’re telling her that you have feelings for her and oh gods she’s an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner.

Gay panic is real my friends and Karlach is 110% a victim of it every time.

2. You’re a menace to her

You’re always putting yourself at risk for those who need it. Not a day goes by where you’re not getting your party into some sort of fight because you can’t say no. It’s one thing to help escort the Tieflings but it’s another to take out an entire goblin camp for them. Sometimes she thinks you do it only to scare her and make her blood pressure spike. Don’t even get me started on how frantic she would get if you were injured. She’d rage on everyone and take on every enemy alone if it meant Shadowheart could heal you without distraction.

But there’s another form of menacing that gets under her skin the most.

Following the tiefling party, it becomes established that physical intimacy is off the table. It’s worse yet when Dammon confirms that he can’t do anything at the moment but promises to find a solution later on. It’s hard on her to be so close yet so far from the one thing she desires the most and you make it even worse.

It started out innocently; you’d tell her when you’d go to clean up so someone knew where you were but she can’t help herself. She’d follow you to the water to keep you company most times. Keeping her back turned, Karlach likes to listen to you ramble about your day and hear you so relaxed as you cleanse your body of dirt, grim, and other nasty things. Sometimes she’d peak when she thinks you wouldn’t notice but you always do. You wink and playfully splash at her as you continue to go about your task. However sometimes upon making eye contact, you can see that she’s burning so hot you’re worried that she might combust on the spot. Her yellow eyes have scanned and committed every inch of your body to memory, further fueling her desire for you. Should she join you, the water might come to a boil with the way her engine’s flames are almost consuming her. Embarrassment is too weak a word to describe the disgusting feeling that overcomes her when she realizes she’s been caught. You always reassure her that you’re flattered and quite enjoy her affections however it does nothing to convince her.

That’s when you decide to test the waters.

Once in the shadow lands and having spoken to Dammon privately after Karlach does, you know that there’s an end in sight for this celibate relationship. It’s only a matter of finding the iron that he requires so you begin a little experiment of sorts.

Karlach is a tease in her own right and can be shamelessly filthy when she wants. The sight of her in combat alone makes you burn as hot as her but it’s when she chooses to murmur filthy things into your ear late at night that destroys you the most. The time has come for you to return the favor.

Would wearing your shirt ties looser ignite her flames? Would trading clothes with Shadowheart one night be the thing that tips the scales? Would forging clothes altogether when you’re sleeping side by side be what makes her feral?

Karlach does what she can to keep her shit together but it’s all becoming too much. She starts to burn blue almost all hours of the day as you get closer and closer to finding the infernal iron. When you finally do find it, you look at each other with astonishment and surprise.

“Did we…did we just…” the words tumble out of her mouth as she stares at it in your hands.

“Oh my gods I think we did.”

Fast forward to when Dammon has fixed her as best as he can and proposes a test to see if it worked. Karlach is practically vibrating with excitement and nerves at the thought of finally getting to touch you. Feeling your arms wrap around her and hold her as if you’re afraid she’s going to disappear absolutely melts her heart. Overwhelming joy washes over her as she clenches to you as well but something else comes over her too. A realization.

She’s touching you.

She’s actually able to touch you without hurting you.

Years of pent up desire and thoughts of pure debauchery begin to consume her mind. What was once joy quickly morphs in lust and she has to pull away from you to avoid claiming you like a rutting predator right in front of Dammon.

3. Disguise is your favorite spell

Let’s talk about the elephant in the room; sex toys are going to be difficult to get in this world. No one can convince me that you could find a strap on in the Emerald Grove or Moonrise towers. Obviously you can go without them but if you have a disguise spell on hand, why not use it???

The first couple of times you and Karlach have sex, it’s sweet and gentle. It borders love making with the way she utterly worships your body and you hers. Things do get rougher when the years of going without touch catch up to her but for the most part it’s soft and tender. Karlach wants to memorize you because she’s terrified she’s going to lose you so she takes her time. You want to ensure that she knows she won’t lose you so you devote yourself to her pleasure every night without fail.

However Karlach has this…daydream that has begun to worm its way to becoming all she thinks about it.

She wants to fuck you stupid.

She wants you babbling and sobbing with pleasure as she fucks you senseless. She wants her name to be the only thing you remember and your body to be covered in her scent, marks, seed, anything and everything that is her.

Enter said disguise spell and there you have it; the chance to make her fantasy real

[madschiavelique]

F8

(i had written this in june and forgot to post it. after seeing you guys agree a lot with this post about isekaid reader i just had to put it out there)

What if Tav is conscious of the quick saves and the F8s, but not the rest of the team ? What if they remember every moment where their adventure companions stood on the very precipice of death or on the extreme of it ended up soulless, laying on the ground like a bag of cold limbs, deprived of any life ? 

What if they used F8s in the hopes that somehow, on the next try, no companions would receive a critical hit that would bring them to the abominable sight of matte eyes, missing the glint of light that shines when one’s spirit still remains ?

Perhaps then someone else could replace one of your companions in the group? Perhaps by using Withers' hirelings you could prevent the others from being affected?

Imagine one night after a long day,, you’re by yourself next to the campfire for the long rest.

The stars have been piercing the black sky like pins in the web of night for a long time now, and it's your turn to keep watch.

Everything was quiet, so quiet, too quiet. It was a sharp contrast between the little crackles of the fire taking hot splinters into the air, and the raging storm of your mind.

Your eyes are immersed in the flames, as if they alone held the precious strategy that would allow you to overcome the horror of the many deaths you wanted to prevent.

You consider the strategy you might employ for the next day. Maybe start with a small bomb? No, if the range is missed it could cause more area damage than necessary. 

Maybe throw a bottle of grease to slow them down? Except that if any sparks flew, it could get complicated.

Then maybe shoot an arrow of many targets... 

‘Can't find sleep ?

You could have expected any of the companions. But the one who came to see you was Karlach.

“No.” you replied simply, without taking your eyes off the fire.

“What’s on your mind soldier ? You’ve been… absent minded today.”

Absent minded was a euphemism.

You had seen up close all of your companions nearing the party wipe, more than a half of them on the ground trying to get their death saving throws as the rest of the party barely had any health remaining.

And out of the few dialogue options you had for her tonight, between them all, was : 

[PERSUASION] Nothing, it’s a bit of a personal matter, you’d find it very boring.

The rest of the options were either too rude for your taste, or would ultimately lead you to unveil of the true reason you were here. You knew that, it wasn’t the first time you were having this conversation.

The dice to roll was 15, and you had no guidance to get from Shadowheart, nor friends from Wyll. Barely a good bonus, you’d have to deal with it.

The first roll was a miserable 4, luckily for you, you had as many points of inspiration. The second roll was a 10. 

Maybe you should embrace it and tell her ? you thought.

The next was a 7, and the one after was a 14. 

Was the game really pushing you to reveal your situation?

Your last roll came, a natural 1.

“Come on, you know so much about all of us at camp !” she said as she sat down next to you. “Let us know more about you.”

You weren't surprised that it was Karlach who came to talk to you. You'd seen the video of Karlach breaking the fourth wall a while back, before you were transported into the game. But it intrigued you, why should she come at this precise moment of rumination.

“I just wonder... why can't the past just die?” you say, turning to her.

“I guess because sometimes you gotta kill the past yourself ? Or something like that, I don’t know, probably something wise about it. I could ask Gale if you want ? I’m sure he’d bounce on the occasion to talk about something that requires his intelligence!”

“No please, don’t get him up.”

Gale would ask too many questions, too many right questions, and would never get away from the subject. This was the last thing you needed at the moment.

“Why do you wonder that ? Something from your past chasing you ? I could take care of that.”

“I doubt you could.” you scoffed.

“Oh come on, there’s nothing that can surmount us.”

You observed her for a moment, her undying joy and energy feeling so natural. How could it feel so natural ?

“You’re not real.”

The sentence came out of your mouth, dialogue options all gone and unneeded.

She frowned, confused as the joy that inhabited her calmed down.

“What ?”

“You’re not real,” you repeated, the emotions twisting your throat.

“What do you mean ?”

A sort of panic slowly took hold of her as a heavy rumble echoed in the distance, like thunder.

“You remember all these memories, you feel all of these emotions.”

The rumbling grew louder, the ground beginning to tremble. 

“Your anger, your joy, your sadness.”

The camp floor cracked, Karlach standing up suddenly.

“None of them really belong to you.”

Beams of green light passed through the fissures of the cracked floor.

“Because you're not real.”

Your eyes landed on Withers, his gaze urging you to do the right thing.

“F8.”

A moment passed, and before long you were back in front of the campfire.

Back with your thoughts, with your torments, with heavy choices. 

They can't know, at least not yet.

______________

i wrote this while listening to this and gosh it matches so well

[lendeah]

Bubbles and battle wounds

Prompt: Astarion comforts you after a bad day featuring a bathtub.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Words: 1.3k

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort.

The day had been brutal, filled with never-ending battles against a seemingly endless enemies. Karlach, Wyll, Gale and yourself had fought tirelessly, your bodies pushed to the brink of exhaustion and beyond. But even during such chaos, there was one failure that weighed heavily on your mind - the gnomes at the factory who died despite your best efforts. The guilt gnawed at you relentlessly as you stumbled back to the Elfsong Tabern, your body battered and bruised. You didn't even have the strength or will to say goodbye to the rest of your companions before heading to Astarion's bed. The elf lies stretched out on the bed, with his eyes glued to a book. Despite this, you know that he is still aware of your presence as he raises a brow.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Looks like someone's had quite the day," he says with a sly grin. "Do tell me all about it. Who did you fight? Did you put up a good fight?"

He slowly sits up on the bed, his gaze traveling up and down your body before finally resting on your face. His expression shifts from curiosity to concern as he takes in your appearance. Your legs tremble uncontrollably, a clear indication that something is seriously wrong.

“I-I need a bath,” you say, on the verge of tears.

He gets up from his bed and walks over to you, placing a hand on your arm to steady you with preoccupation etched on his face. "Of course, my dear. Let me help you," he says, his voice soothing and comforting.

You quietly make your way to the bathroom, and you feel like in a daze. Astarion's arm is securely wrapped around your waist as he supports your trembling body. Every step feels like a struggle, so you are grateful for his assistance. The room is small but cozy, with a large tub taking up most of the space. A faint smell of lavender fills the air, calming your nerves slightly.

Without a word, Astarion begins to run a bath for you, carefully adjusting the temperature to your liking. He then gestures for you to sit on the edge of the tub as he helps you out of your armor and clothes. He seems to be searching for any wounds on your body, but doesn't seem to find anything too serious. You feel vulnerable and exposed under his gaze, but also comforted by his familiar presence.

Once you are fully bare, you get into the bathtub, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing slightly. He also undresses and gets in the tub behind you, having you between his legs. Your mind is filled with images of the battle you just fought, and the guilt and pain are overwhelming.

After a few seconds, you feel his hands on your back, gently massaging and washing away the dirt and grime from your skin. His touch is tender and soothing, making the tension in your body slowly melt away. You lean into his touch, grateful for his presence.

"Do you want to talk about it, my love?" he finally asks in a gentle voice, breaking the silence.

You shake your head, tears now falling freely down your face. "I couldn't save them," you say between sobs. "They trusted me and I couldn't save them."

He leans forward and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling your body close to his chest. You feel his familiar cold and soft skin, slowly calming your racing heart. "It's not your fault," he whispers in your ear. "You did everything you could."

But you can't help but feel responsible. You had promised to protect them, and yet they fell in battle while you survived. It feels like a betrayal of their trust in you. You sigh, laying your head on your knees again. He starts massaging your hair and scalp and you feel the tension start to leave your body, as the water around you both turns brown with blood and grime.

"You don't always have to be strong for others," he whispers softly. "It's okay to let yourself grieve."

You nod slowly, letting out a shaky breath. The sobs come out in full force now, racking your body with each wave of pain and sadness. Astarion holds onto you tighter, whispering words of comfort as he lets you cry it out. Eventually, your tears run dry and you lay there spent and exhausted.

As Astarion continues massaging your scalp, he notices the water turning brown with grime and blood. He frowns slightly.

"Let me take care of this," he says softly before pouring some fresh water into the bathtub to replace the dirty water.

You watch him silently as he steps back in, and resumes carefully washing your hair, his touch gentle and soothing. The newly warm water and the smell of soap lull you into a state of relaxation, and you close your eyes.

"You have beautiful hair," he comments, running his fingers through the strands.

You open your eyes and turn to look at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you," you say softly.

When he is finished, he pulls you back toward his chest, embracing you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek affectionately before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "Even with bruises and blood, you manage to be the most captivating sight I've ever beheld," he says sincerely.

Turning around in his embrace, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you hold on tightly, hugging him in response. Astarion's hands move from your hair to your back, caressing your skin gently. He leans in and presses a soft kiss against your shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. "You truly are a wonder, my dear," he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity. "Even amid chaos and despair, your spirit remains unyielding. It's no wonder I am utterly infatuated with you."

His words wash over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart. With Astarion by your side, the weight of the world feels just a little lighter. Leaning against Astarion's chest, you let out a contented sigh. "Thank you," you whisper softly. "For being here."

His arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. "You don't have to carry it all alone," he murmurs against your ear. "Lean on me when you need to. I'll always be here to catch you."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You reach up and brush a strand of hair away from his face, your fingers lingering against his cheek. "You should lean into me too," you whisper, feeling a sense of hope blossoming within you.

He smiles softly before leaning closer and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle yet filled with unspoken emotions. You feel yourself melting into him, reveling in the warmth and safety he provides. Astarion brushes his fingers against your cheek before pulling away. "Let's get out of this grimy water," he says with a smirk, offering you a hand to help you stand up.

Astarion helps you out of the bathtub and wraps a soft towel around you before grabbing one for himself. You both dry off quickly and he leads you to the bed, where he hands you one of his clean shirts.

"Put this on," he says, handing it to you. "We can't have my dear hero looking like a ragamuffin."

You take the shirt from him with a smile, and slip it over your head, reveling in his lingering smell on the piece. Astarion watches you with a smile, clearly pleased with how you look in his clothes.

"Mmm, you're finally looking presentable," he purrs, raking his fingers through your damp hair. "Now, let's get some rest. We have a full day of scheming ahead of us."

You nod in agreement and climb onto the bed, snuggling into the soft blankets. Astarion joins you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him, as his fingers gently trace soothing circles on your back. As you drift off to sleep, you can't help but feel grateful for having Astarion by your side. Despite all the chaos and danger surrounding you both, he brings a sense of peace and comfort that you never knew was possible.

[poetryvampire]

Can I request headcanons for (poly but none of them are dating yet) Zevlor and Rolan reacting to gn human Tav confessing to both of them but they explained they would understand if they're rejected since they're the same kind who has discriminated them so much? With a happy ending please?

Sweet beautiful Anon! Again I thank you deeply for your patience and am sorry it took so long. I absolutely loved the idea though and turned it into a little fic. It is going to be two chapters and here is part one (second one should be ready later this week lol) Please enjoy the angst and yearning (✿◡‿◡) 💜💜💜

Falling into Place

Pt 1 (pt 2 is Here !🥰)

Reader x Rolan x Zevlor

Light suggestive imagery (the nsfw lives in pt two)

You hadn’t intended on being so bold when you planned to visit Ramazith’s tower, but something in the way the corners of Rolan’s mouth curled as he brushed off your words sent a rush of boldness through you. Even as you sat on the corner of his desk, obscuring part of the map that ran past the edge practically hitting the floor, the wizard kept a playful look in his eye that made your heart pound. 

“You know, if I wanted a horrid little creature to disturb my work and make a mess of my things I could have picked up an alley cat by now.”  He mused, still pretending to read the papers in his hands. 

 “You should! You’ve got the room now.” You smiled as Rolan rolled his eyes.“Will you at least consider it?” 

“Consider roaming around the countryside- for gods knows how long- looking for a troop of goblins?” He leaned back in his chair throwing the papers to the side. “I’m sorry, but it doesn’t sound terribly appealing.”

“Oh come on, won’t it be a nice change from locking yourself in here night and day?” You gesture around you at the chaos of books and scrolls that was his office.  

“ Well, hero,” Rolan scoffed. “I am perfectly comfortable in my tower and don’t require saving at the moment. You’ll be the first to know should that change.” He turned his attention back to the map in front of him. 

“Please.” You whine. “It’ll be fun! And they’ll just be a few of us. Wyll, Karlach, Zevlor-”  

“In that case I must go.” The tiefling wrinkles his nose, cutting you off. For a moment you second guessed how real his annoyance might be. “With all the praise you showered on him after your last little adventure I would have thought him capable of taking down the goblins all by himself.” 

 “My word, is the great master of Ramazith’s Tower jealous of a paladin?” you tease. 

“No.” Rolan snapped quickly. He stood, reaching across the sprawling paper to scribble some notes towards the top. “And could you get off my desk now?”  

 You didn’t move, rather regarded the wizard and the knit in his brow. It was no secret that he wasn’t the warmest man you’ve known and the signals of his true feelings were sometimes hard to read. Suddenly missing the mild affection he gave you from time to time, you leaned your head against his shoulder causing him to freeze completely. 

 “Obviously you don’t have to go.” You sighed. “But, I just thought it would be nice. I do like having you around. For some reason.” 

He snorted out a small laugh and you could have sworn he shifted closed to you. Even the slight contact brought a smile to your lips.

“Good. The feeling is… mutual.” He paused, his eyes darted about not knowing where to look.“ And I suppose that wizard of yours is still busy boring his students to death?”

 “He’s not my wizard. I haven’t got one, unless you’ve suddenly had a change of heart in the last two seconds.” You glance up at him coyly and could have sworn he took a sharp intake of breath.  

 “Well, it still sounds like a horrible time and I have no real interest in it. However, it would be irresponsible of me to let you lot go on your little adventure without the skills of a wizard. So- to save myself from losing sleep- yes I will-” 

 You let out a squeal and flung your arms around him causing his words to catch in his throat. Thanking him profusely and you let out a flood of words assuring him his worries were unfounded. Rolan kept still, hardly even breathing, in your embrace. Cautiously,  he slid his arms around you and lightly ran his hand up and down your back. 

 “Now, now, there’s no need for such thanks.” he let out a nervous laugh. “ Not yet anyway. I’m sure I’ll end up pulling you out of some mess before too long.” 

 The spring in your step as you walked home that evening quickly turned back into worry. It was true that Rolan tagging along would be helpful and- of course- you desperately wanted him around. As the tiefling had advanced in his magical mastery you had seen less and less of him. It made you question if he’d lost some of the little affection he may have held for you. Not that it mattered in the end. You very much doubted you’d have the chance to come clean about your feelings. 

 You had always taken your time with love affairs, trying to gauge the situation before laying your heart bare. You had a heart overflowing with a care that was more than happy to give to however many people you loved. Of course taking multiple partners wasn’t for everyone and as careful as you were to be honest with potential lovers you had been burned horribly in the past. Rejection was a fear you carried with you now more than ever. 

 There was no point in lying to yourself anymore. You had never been so in love with two people than you were at the moment. Perhaps serendipity, perhaps a curse, both Rolan and Zevlor had taken your heart utterly. The cleanup and rebuilding of the city would have been impossible without them. They had both spent countless hours at your side ready to aid you in any way you needed. As time pressed on your bonds had deepened and the idea of not having your favourite wizard and paladin in your life  broke your heart. 

 How could you tell either of them the truth when it may mean losing one of your closest friends? Would you have to choose one of them? And if your greatest hope was true and they shared your affection you couldn’t bring yourself to break one of their hearts.  

 Neither of them had ever indicated how they might feel about having partners. It had never come up in conversation and every time you considered breaching the subject you backed out at the last minute, too afraid of what they may say. As much as you had learned of tiefling culture, you hadn't found anything that may give you a hint. For now the only decision was to try and stay sane while your desire ate you alive.  

*** 

 At a glance the journey was off to an excellent start; the weather had been fair and after only a week of travel you had stumbled across a strong lead. The comfortable routine of traveling with your companions was a welcomed change. Rolan seemed in good spirits despite his playful jabs and endless complaints. It was mid way through the second week when everything went south. 

 The path chosen turned out to be far longer and harder to traverse than you hoped. One with twisting slopes and leaden with brambles and jagged, uneven rocks. After taking a deeply embarrassing tumble, Zevlor had taken to staying at side, ready to offer his hand or an arm to cling to for balance. More than once, perhaps subconsciously, you allowed the contact to pass the need for stability. For a moment you could revel in the dream of having such a kind and gentle man on your arm. Again, you hadn’t meant to over step. The two of you never shied away from physical contact- you’d had plenty of sparring sessions with the man- but there was still an unspoken tension no matter how comfortable you had become. Unlike with Rolan, it was easy to slip over the line- the one you had given yourself- with Zevlor and not even realize it had happened. In the end it always made you feel just as foolish as the night you had invited Rolan. .            

   To make matters worse the late summer weather had turned uncharacteristically cool and wet. Ending days chilled and soaked to the bone did nothing for morale. As much as you tried to stay optimistic after a few days of truely unpleasant conditions, something in Rolan’s demeanor shifted. His witty remarks turned to a cold silence. He did his duties thoroughly and without complaint all the while seeming a million yards away. You had become certain he was actively avoiding you. Time and again he would distance himself from you however possible. Even when you attempted to assist him he was determined to work alone. 

 While huddled around a fire for supper with your companions, you found yourself across from Rolan and couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes fell everywhere but forward. As if you weren’t even there. To your surprise Wyll, ever the charismatic one, was able to jump back into a conservation the two had started earlier. The wizard sounded weary but friendly nonetheless. Your gut might as well have sunken into the abyss as you mulled over the past few days. Rolan had become quiet but you had yet to seem in distance himself from Wyll or Karlach. Not as he had done with you and Zevlor. A cold fear ran through your bones at the thought of it being more than bad weather to sour his mood. 

 The prospects left you dizzy. You couldn’t completely mask the distress in your voice as you made an excuse to retire to your tent. Zevlor followed you, checking if you required any help or healing he could provide. As you reassured him your eyes drifted to the glint of gold shining past his shoulder. You have caught Rolan’s eyes fixed on the two of you before turning back to Wyll.  

         Most of the night was spent tossing and turning in your bedroll as you tried to quell the endless scenarios in your brain. Tried to swallow down all the tears you’d been holding back for far too long. It felt practically indulgent to imagine Rolan was actually jealous of Zevlor or that he did in fact harbor feelings for you. They both felt out of character for him, or was he just better at hiding it than you had been? Whatever the case, you had awoken early ready to throw yourself into anything that wasn’t thinking about what a fool you’ve been. 

 Zevlor, as usual, was the only one awake at such an hour. Not wanting to waste the time you had together you decided on a sparring session and settled in a clearing not too far from camp. As skilled a fighter as you were you didn't come close to his mastery of the sword and still had much to learn. As if sensing your need for a distraction Zevlor kept you on your toes, moving with all the grace and ferocity he displayed in a real battle. You were unsure if the stress of your worries had shaken your hand or if Zevlor had finally stopped going easy on you, either way he was subduing you with ease. Frustrations hot in your chest you were becoming more clumsy and frantic with every swing. In a misguided attempt to break the deadlock your shaking arms could barely hold, you tried hooking your foot around Zevlor’s ankle to throw off his balance. However it worked a bit too well, sending the two of you down hard, the tiefling crashing directly on top of you.

 You laughed with what little air wasn’t knocked out of your lungs. At the stupid idea, at the befuddled look on Zevlor’s face. You were certain he was about to scold you, but no sound passed his lips. Still breathing hard against you, he studied your face as if trying to solve a riddle. Helpless, you could only gaze up at him. He was a vision, with his hair loose and clinging to his sweat laden brow. A smile bloomed wide across your face. How long had you dreamed of feeling his weight on you? Of looking up into those flaming eyes? Instinctively your hands rose to his shoulders keeping him there. You could feel his breath on your face, the hammering of your heart flooding every vein. Your mind screamed to stop before you only made things worse but you both lingered like this for too long not to act.

 Zevlor's whole body tensed as you pressed your lips to his with an aggression he had not been prepared for. Soon he matched your passion and welcomed your curious tongue into his mouth. He moaned your name and you had to fight the urge to wrap your legs around him along with your arms. The worry and uncertainty fell to the back of your mind as your hands found their way across his chest. Dressed down in a tonic, you were able to delight in the pattern of ridges he bore. Your hands roamed everywhere as the paladin’s lips sought to devour you. He moved from mouth to jaw, to neck and back again, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Drunk on the taste of him, your fingers dipped past his shirt to caress the warm tight muscle of his stomach. Also lost in the sensation he rolled his hips against you causing you both to groan into each other's mouth. 

“Stop!” Zevlor tore himself away from you as if burned. Sitting up on his knees he bowed head, red faced and clearly frustrated. “Stop. Please, I don’t want to-to-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“No, don’t worry.” you move to his side. “I should apologize. I was rash and I haven’t slept and I just-” 

“I didn’t want this to happen this way.” His soft eyes meet yours. 

You want to ask what he means yet it seems a better solution to leave and blame your actions on the lack of sleep. But the warmth radiating from his weathered face held you like a spell. 

 “I- the time never felt quite right. And you deserve nothing less than a proper courting, to be adorned with lovely things and beautiful words. However, you know-you must know-” the former commander cups your face with a shocking amount of gentleness for such rough hands. “That I adore you.” 

Zevlor’s searched your face. As hard as you tried to steal yourself you couldn’t push down the rush of joy; the pleading in your eyes that invited him into another kiss.

 This time his mouth moved slowly, tenderly; it held a sort of honesty that made you shiver. You tried not to get ahead of yourself but you swear you can feel his longing in every movement, as if he had been holding back just as you had. You could feel the  grin on those perfectly full lips when he pulled away. Everything you’re about to say leaves your mind as Zevlor's eyes darted suddenly to something behind you. A chill runs down your spine as you whip around to see Rolan standing in the tree line. His look of genuine shock melted into a disdainful grimace. 

“There’s breakfast ready. If you’re so inclined.” Rolan spat out before turning on his heel to hastily march back to camp. 

Panicked, you jumped to your feet. Calling after the wizard repeatedly only made him move quicker leaving you standing there face hot, pushing down the lump in your throat. You were rooted to the spot, breathing hard. Zevlor’s eyes were on you- you were sure of it- but you didn’t dare look at him. 

 “I don’t mean to pry,” the tiefling spoke softly. “Have I, perhaps, misjudged the situation?” 

 “No, Zevlor. I- Gods I'm mad for you. It’s just- I just-it’s hard to-” you fought to keep your voice steady.

 “It’s complicated.” His lips held a smile that could not mask the disappointment in his eyes. “I understand. I’ve had my fair share of complications when it comes to romance. And Rolan is a quite accomplished young man.”  

“I don’t know what I'm doing. I’m sorry.” you breathed. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong. I have heard it said that the course of true love never did run smooth. Should you need to talk or anything really, don’t hesitate to find me.” He affirmed and kissed your hand. 

 As the two of you made your way back, Zevlor chuckled to himself. 

 “I must say I am relieved to know that all my worries of you not having an interest in tieflings were unfounded.” He grinned.

 Despite your tempest of emotions you couldn’t help but laugh.