#y'allstarion

[suitetarts]

neil's southern us accent .... uhhhhh 😳

[nobigneil]

Y'Allstarion x 2 by @littlecontinent

[spicybardjj]

Been warming back into BG3 art after burnout with some super quick/dumb drawings-- @vixstarria suggested silly outfits and my brain immediately went to Y'allstarion and this dumb idea 🤷🤠

Having a lot of fun with these, so please shoot ideas my way!

[evilcoconutz]

How I met Neil Newbon.... Twice

TLDR at the bottom. This literally has 2,944 words so I totally understand if you wanna skip around, I tried adding little chapters to help chop it up a bit. I'm a very details kind of person lol.

This took me like two days to type out, still can't believe this happened to me.

I just wanna say that I got a very unique experience and got extremely lucky. When I say I got LUCKY, you have no idea.... I have a shitty memory and will forget this if I don't type it out. This is mainly for myself to come back and re-read again and again. This is my memory of Fan Expo Dallas and meeting Neil Newbon.

I decided to go all three days because Neil had two separate panels I wanted to attend. One on Friday and the other on Sunday. I went dressed as a Sith on Friday with lil Batstarion on my shoulder with a tiny magnetic lightsaber (Space Cowboy of course). We did some shopping and walking around before trying to get my signature with Neil that I had scheduled for that day. Neil's panel that evening was like 7:45 pm and so we joined the line to get the autograph well before then. Around 5ish I think. I get to the back of the line with my husband, we sit there about five minutes and only one other person lines up behind us. (I only uploaded pics of my druid outfit and not my Sith, just imagine the same shit but with a black dress and black and red pauldron, I also carried my personal lightsaber)

I cannot explain how long this line was. it would be at least 2+ hours before we could get through the line on a Friday, I couldn't imagine what Saturday would be like.

It's been a few years I have been to Fan Expo, the crowds would not get better, and I knew that much.

Having every intention of standing in line and waiting multiple hours just to get his signature, I looked around and saw so many amazing Astarion, Karlach, Gale, and Shadowheart cosplays. Not too far from this amazing cosplay!

We also saw a Damon and Karlach hanging out, a couple of Alfira's too!

A Fan Expo Staff Member goes through the back ends of the line and picks out those who have an "All Days" pass, which included us.

He pulls about 20ish of us aside and explains that if we come back tomorrow, we had two options. *Checks Neil's itinerary on phone* "He's got nothing scheduled before noon tomorrow, if you see him at the table early don't hesitate to get in line."

-----The red ticket-----

So if we accepted this red ticket our options were:

Come back between 10-10:15 am tomorrow and get in line asap, to be first in line, they usually only allow VIP to line up during this time and if we had the ticket, we would be allowed through.

Come to the VIP booth tomorrow between 12:30-1 pm and MAYBE get a spot if there are any left.

Don't accept ticket and rejoin the line.

-----Saturday and the virtual line-----

Obviously we wanted to come back the next day to be there before 10:15, but between traffic and trying to find a parking spot we were late. My hubby almost insisting I get out and go stand in line while he wait in traffic <3 Soooo sweet, but I didn't wanna be there with out him!

Before we even get to the sign floor... yeah... it is so crowded we be sardines. We bee line it for Neil's line and immediately get told we need to come back in an hour because the line was completely full. BUMMER. We decide to walk around a bit more to kill time for said hour. There is so much to do and see at Fan Expo, do not sleep on some of these panels! Free programming and cosplay building, it's amazing!

We come back an hour later and are greeted with a virtual wait line! Yay!

I have nothing against these, but as we accepted our virtual wait ticket, we asked about our red ticket from the day before.

We were then told our best bet was either to wait until 12:30-1 pm to go to the VIP booth or wait for our number to be written on a white board they had put up (virtual wait list number in which we could line up). I wish I had a picture of it, but it was incredibly crowded.

-----Let's Go, Baby!-----

12:30 pm just rolled around and we were curious what the white board number was, it wasn't close to ours so my husband asked where the VIP booth was (we had no idea what this meant btw) and were directed to the other side of the celebrity signing area. As we approached, there was only one couple before us. The Staff asked who we were there to see, "Neil Newbon, we have a red ticket." The couple ahead of us was there to see Jim Cummings, which was the booth next to Neil's. There was a brief walkie talkie moment, I had kinda spaced out and my husband tapped me and said "Let's go, baby!" I was like "Uh, where?!"

"To Neil" The staff then swept all of us through a maze of people, we formed a small train apologizing to any one we bumped into. The very kind woman who was in front of us commented on my dress and metal halfling ears. She said she had seem them at Renfair and always wanted a pair (I told her go for it next time, I highly recommend! <3)

They pushed us into a small waiting line next to those who had been waiting for hours. This felt so weird, like I had skipped the line or something (which yes, but like... not for sinister reasons). I probably had about 10-15 mins max to think of what to do or say.

Right before it was my turn to approach the signing table, one of the workers noted "Yall don't have to be so nervous, I can see yall shaking, he's really nice!" Even while standing at the front of the line one of the other staff members came over to chat with another staff, pointing at Neil saying "He's one of my favorites! So nice!"

The girl that was right in front of me, she was trying to load her QR code and the signal wasn't the best. My heart would have hit my stomach if that were me. Imagine waiting all that time and now your phone won't load! Yikes! She did finally get it, I'm glad I had mine printed. Take screenshots of your QR codes if you can't print them!

So now it's my turn to walk up to the table, but just before meeting Neil, they ask your name + spelling on a card, they ask if you want to add a small quote (5 words), large quote (more than 5 words), table picture, signature, that kinda thing for an additional fee. He has prints you can choose from (unconfirmed but possibly free if you pay for signature, looked like Streamilyish prints). She asked "What are we signing today?" I then asked if cloth was ok, and she said it was fine. I told the lady behind the table my 5 word quote and she was a bit stunned, lol. Looked at me like I was crazy or something.

The person in front of me was one of those whom had been waiting quite a long time in line, she was so nervous to get her words out to Neil, like she had been rehearsing all day what to say. She looked proud afterwards and happy.

I honestly didn't know what I was going to say, I'm one of those people who cross that bridge when I get there. I was not prepared at all, but I was confident I wouldn't say anything stupid.

I cannot tell you how hard it was to look Neil in the eyes. I am 5'0" and this guy is tall, his eye's are very blue and it's really hard to keep eye contact, at least for me.

We walk up to the table and he immediately held his hand out and said "HI! I'm Neil!" I shook his hand and told him my name, he said nice to meet you and looked at my husband.

"And you are?" He held his hand out as well.

"Dakota, I'm her husband." My husband got to shake his hand too!

In the loudest Astarion voice, "HER HUSBAND?!? Oh there's nothing to see here, err umm side eye" He kinda did this looking away motion with his hand. We laughed and he leaned on the table and said "What's going on guys?" Nobigneil? Verytallneil! Even with him leaning on the table.

I chose to introduce my Batstarion first. I plucked him off my shoulder and placed him on the table. I told him I missed him yesterday as a Sith because Batstarion was a Space Cowboy. I had Batstarion hold the lit lightsaber and Neil said "Surely I'm not going to sign him..."

"No, you'll sign the material I made him out of!"

"Alison

Feeling cute

might decapitate

later! Astarion

Maker <3"

Immediately, he smiled and said "That's from one of my recent live streams."

"It is!" I replied with glee.

He asked me to hold the fabric so he could sign it. As he wrote the quote, he read it out loud just like he does on his signing streams. he warned me the marker would bleed horribly and I did not anticipate what he meant...

I thanked him but I wasn't expecting what happened next.

Neil held out his hand again after finishing the signature for a handshake, but then met the top of my palm with his other hand "See you in the Streams" He spoke so genuinely. His eye contact pierced my fucking soul. Dedz. I honestly don't think I even said anything after that, it stunned me.

I quickly swept my things off the table to make way for the person behind me, not paying attention to exactly what I was doing. I was just trying to not waste anyone's time, I only had to wait a few minutes for Neil but everyone else waited hours. It didn't feel fair for me to stay longer.

I am not kidding when I say people waited for hours on end. When he was swept away to a photo op or to a panel he was involved in, people waited. I don't think I ever saw his line short.

We walk away from the booth to an empty corner to wrap up my cloth, I brought like 1/4 of a yard of fabric so I could wrap it up on itself. That's when I notice Batstarion and honestly wasn't even upset.

It so bled....

He meant what he meant...

Batstarion got bled on... lol... accurate.

TBH I'm shocked the cloth survived all of that, the ruffle and shuffle of bumping in to others through that traffic on a Saturday...

I had the idea of going to see what number was, up on the white board it was at 1030. I wouldn't have even been able to line up yet. This felt unreal.

-----The Waiting-----

So! Now it's time to take a photo with Neil on the SAME DAY.

It's almost 1 pm at this point and it was so crowded, we decided to go ahead and make our way to the photo op area. Neil's photo op wasn't until 2:30 pm so we decided to just wait it out.

Around 1:30 my husband noticed a spot had opened up closer to the entrance of the photo op line area. They started calling for last call for Mads Mikkelsen, in booth A. I noticed some people in a hurry to get there, I looked up and I see one of my favorite Youtubers!

FunkyFrogBait! I only got like the side of their face, but the glasses and hair were unmistakable. Here's their channel:

https://www.youtube.com/@funkyfrogbait

Seriously though, if it wasn't them, it was a damn good cosplay! Really wish I could have said HI and spread the love, but I never saw them again.

Anyway...

I bought my FanExpo tickets on mother's day and added the signature for Friday and the photo op for Saturday. This put me in group A for the photo op. Depending on when you buy your tickets and how many people buy them is what group your are put in.

I don't remember what time they started calling for VIP line up for Neil NewBORN. This made me laugh, no one corrected this poor man the whole time.

I think there were three people total that lined up in VIP. As soon as they called for group A line up for Neil Newborn, we were off and got in line fairly quickly. Only a few moments waiting in line and an older man that was just passing by, stopped and asked us what we were in line for. My husband said "We're in line for a photo with Neil NewBON." He just said ok and waved his hand as he left. The lady behind my husband snickered and said "Newborn" as if mimicking the announcer.

"Pfft! I know right!?" Suddenly, I was approach by someone who had this in their hands and they gifted it to me!

I'm actually still wearing it as I'm typing this.

I squealed "OMG!!! Thank You!!!" Seriously! So cute!

The energy of all the people waiting in line, it was very comfortable, we all knew why we where there. Soooo many amazing cosplays waiting in line, we saw a Heisenberg, and several Lady Dimitrescu's, a couple of Astarion's.

-----The Photo OP-----

The line is FULL. We have maybe six people in front of us including VIP.

This doesn't feel right, it feels like I just cheesed and speed ran my way into meeting Neil in the shortest amount of time possible without being VIP on the busiest day of FanExpo. WHAT?!?

Granted, I bought my ticket way in advance for the photo op and we got there early, I never thought I would ever be so close to the front of the line like this!

It's time to start the photo op so VIP goes first, but we where right behind them. They bring you, along with 4-5 others into a small room with a table, that you can set your bags on. My husband just held onto ours.

The process of this was so amazing to me, I have never taken a photo with a celebrity before and had no idea what was going to happen. There is very little preparation they give you to take the photo.

Back to back, they give you maybe 10 seconds to prepare. SNAP. Go. SNAP. Go. SNAP. Go. SNAP. Go.

I got a glimpse of the first photo, she had a stuffed Astarion, she had Neil hold upside down. All the others just walked up, posed, left. By "pose" they just did a side hug.

I didn't know what to do so I just did the same thing as everyone else. I walked up and immediately, he went "Heh, Druid..."

At first, I thought we were going to take the same picture as the ones before me, but to my surprise, he touched my antler and said "Ooo pointy" When they called for the picture to be taken he literally yelled

"HORNY!"

I'm sure my face went bright red after that. I said thank you and turned to walk away. He even said "Nice to meet you!" as I left. I was again shocked and didn't say anything! Ugh... Kicking myself a little over that.

As we left, my husband pointed out, Neil really didn't say anything to anyone else. They sent us down a winding pathway to get our prints. We came to a small area and prints started shooting out of the printers so fast, it was actually amazing. (Six Flags take a fuckin note!) Anyways, here is my photo with Neil, my face blocked out because I look like a deer in headlights lmao!

So yeah, if you ever get the opportunity to meet him, you should! 10/10 nicest dude ever. Those bracelets he's wearing are the ones his fans have gifted to him in case you were wondering.

So what's really great about this photo, it looks like Batstarion is leaning on him! <3

I zoomed in and you can really see the red from his signature and his cowboy hat!

This is what he looks like today, it's almost completely gone, dunno if I want it fully gone though tbh.

So yeah. I just wanted all of my memories in a place I could keep them. I don't play with Facebook, Twitter, Insta, Snapchat, or any other social media, so I only post here. I hope you enjoyed my rambling!

The serotoneil was very high this whole weekend! Sunday would be the best day to go if you have kids!

BTW both panels he was in was very entertaining! This clip was from Friday's!

TLDR: I got to skip big lines to see Neil Newbon and maybe saw one of my favorite Youtubers? Batsarion got red ink from Neil's signature.

My Druid cosplay:

https://www.tumblr.com/evilcoconutz/752031078643040256/druid-cosplay-update?source=share

My Batstarion build:

https://www.tumblr.com/evilcoconutz/751141069044023296/lets-write-these-wrongs?source=share

[apalestar]

"Ya'll! I was right there!"

[sealorrica]

[Fic] The Night Trail - 1/3

Vaguely Tiefling Tav/Reader x Astarion, though probably closer to a genfic. Rating: T

You and the other tieflings were kicked out of Elturel once it was restored from Avernus, and it's been a hard road since. The strange guard your train hired doesn't think it's so bad though, and maybe he'll get you to believe it too.

Basically an Oregon Trail AU.

Read the first part here!

[sebastianswallows]

Should only be read in the following accent: [x]

[Humor me, Astarion, can you give this blood a smell?]

[elenafaus404]

Y'allstarion Wedding

(disclaimer: none of the characters are mine. they belong to Larian Studios or are my friend's OC)

Astarion stood at the altar in his new white suit, red accents adorning the edges, and a matching new white cowboy hat. He was waiting for the music to start up, waiting for him to walk down the aisle. He looks out at the crowd, watching Karlach annoy Lae’zel and smiles. It’s been forever since they have all been together like this, but they all made the time to show up. Granted, it was probably mostly for Athanasius, but he was still grateful. He’s loathe to admit it, but they are the closest things he has to friends, and the only people he wanted to invite. He and Athanasius didn’t have many friends, but they would both be there in an instant if any of them called, and their friends would do the same. That’s why they were all gathered here, in a field near Baldur’s Gate, at almost sunset. They were getting married. Gods, Astarion could still hardly believe it. Athanasius had been willing to marry him, had said yes when he had proposed. And now it was their wedding day.

He was snapped out of his daydreaming by the music starting up. He looked up, and, though he didn’t technically need to breathe, his breath caught in his throat as he saw Athanasius step into sight. Nine hells, he would never get used to Athanasius’s beauty. He stood there in a dark black suit that had the same red accents as his does, contrasting beautifully against his seemingly glistening purple skin. As everyone stood, Athanasius started to walk down the aisle towards him, giving him a soft smile. Instead of a bouquet, he was holding a bundle of chords in his hands. As he reached the front, he handed the bundle to Gale, who was going to perform the ceremony for them, and turned towards Astarion.

“Today,” starts Gale, “this couple comes before us to enter into the sacred covenant of marriage, vowing to be partners through the trials and triumphs of their shared life.

“They are declaring to each other and to all of us present that they will be by each other's side, no matter what life brings their way.”

As Gale talks, Astarion gets lost in Athanasius’s eyes. The red of his irises was like red velvet, the expensive kind that lords make clothes out of. He could stare into his eyes for eternity and still not get enough of it. He snaps back to reality as Gale starts addressing them.

“As I ask the two of you these questions, please respond together, making your promises before this circle of witnesses. Athanasius and Astarion, will you honor and respect one another?”

“We will.” They say together, not looking away from each other’s eyes.

“Will you support and assist each other in times of pain and sorrow?”

“We will.”

“Will you be present in the difficult and challenging times so that you may grow strong in this union?”

“We will.”

“Will you share each other's laughter and joy and look for the brightness and fun in life and the positive in each other?”

“We will.”

“Is it your intention to bring peace and harmony into your everyday ways of communicating?”

“It is.”

“And when you falter, will you have the courage and commitment to remember these promises and take a step back towards one another with an open heart?”

“We will.”

“Are you willing now and always to make this commitment to each other?”

“We do.”

At that, Gale grabbed the chords from a table that had been stood next to them. “This cord represents the marital bond. It is strong enough to hold you together during times of struggle yet flexible enough to allow for individuality and personal growth. Please join hands.”

Athanasius raises his hands, palms up, and Astarion grabs ahold of his wrists, interlocking their arms in front of them and holding them close together. Gale wraps their hands together in a beautifully intricate knot, and continues.

“And now, as your hands are bound together, I ask you to declare your vows to each other.”

“You have taugh’ me that two people joined together wit respect, trust, and open communication can be far stronger and happier than each could ever be alone. You a’e the strength ah didn't know ah needed and the joy that ah didn't know ah lacked. Today, ah choose to spend the rest of mah life with you.” Astarion says, trying to hold back the tears as he looks at Athanasius. Athanasius smiles at him, also holding back tears, and says his own vows.

“I choose you and promise to choose you as my husband every day we wake. I will love you in word and deed. I will laugh with you, cry with you, scream with you, grow with you, and craft with you. To be your kin and your partner in all of life's adventures is all I could hope for in the world. Loving what I know of you and trusting what I don't yet know, I give you my hand. I give you my love. I give you myself, the good, the bad, and the yet to come.”

“As your hands are now bound together, so shall your lives be bound as one. Keep this cord as a visible reminder of your promise to one another, and let no one unbind it as long as you both shall live.” Gale says, and carefully takes the chords off of their hands, keeping the knot intact. “Now, may I ask who has the rings?” Karlach stands up, and hands the rings over to Gale. They were both silver with a black band running through the middle. One of them is thinner than the other and also has a blood red gem in the middle of it.

“We all understand the gesture that you are now making. To reach out to someone and be acknowledged, held, and loved is the bravest thing one can do. Taking the hand of the one who loves you is the symbol of that unspoken bond.

“You fell in love by chance, but you're here today because you're making a choice. You both are choosing each other. You've chosen to be with someone who enhances you, who makes you think, makes you smile, and makes every day brighter.

“Every day, as you look down, you will see a brief flash of light, a sparkle as the ring placed on your finger today will shine. It will remind you, again and again, over and over, of your promise to one another. Every time you take hands, you will feel that wedding ring on your partner's hand, and you will both be reminded again in turn.

“Astarion, please take Athanasius's hand, place the ring on his finger, and repeat after me as you look at him: I give you this ring in token and pledge of my abiding love.”

Astarion grabs Athanasius’s left hand softly, sliding the ring on his ring finger, and repeats after Gale.

“Athanasius, please take Astarion's hand, place the ring on his finger, and repeat after me as you look at him: I give you this ring in token and pledge of my abiding love.

Athanasius grabs Astarion’s left hand, sliding the ring onto his ring finger next to the Ring of the Sunwalker that he had gotten him as soon as they had defeated the Elderbrain, and repeats after Gale.

“May you enjoy a lifetime of love and peace, happiness, and prosperity. I now pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss!”

Astarion smiles down at Athanasius. Before kissing him, he takes off his hat and sets it on Athanasius’s head, it tilting to the side a little due to their differing size. He gently grabs Athanasius’s face, and draws him into a deep kiss, almost completely holding him up by the end. When he pulls away, Athanasius looks to be in a daze, and he just smiles at him. Without Athanasius noticing, Halsin had brought around Astarion’s horse, a beautiful black mare by the name of Naledi. Astarion smirks at Athanasius, and then easily lifts him up onto Naledi’s back before climbing on behind him.

“Hold on, darlin’.” Astarion whispers into Athanasius’s ear. With that, he nudges Naledi into a trot, and all that the guests see is them riding towards the setting sun, heading to the cabin in the woods that they are spending their honeymoon at.

[nobigneil]

the stunning Asia @littlecontinent and Y'Allstarion!

[atsadi-shenanigans]

What Shall We Become 38 - Between a Drow and a Slaver

The rogue comes to an impasse.

His leader rests heavy and loose against his front. Astarion keeps one arm looped around her—though the lizard’s gait is remarkable smooth and she hasn’t started to slide once. Still. Better caution and all. She’s fallen asleep again, which he thinks is a good sign? She needs rest to heal, and she seems untroubled?

The ground slopes down and down. They currently shuffle along a narrow switchback between huge, glowing crystal formations. He takes a moment to appreciate the color again. Check the underside of his left arm through the leather of the armor—still no knobs or lumps. He toys with the idea of asking the cleric about that. Chances of mushroom tendrils rooting around his undead flesh. Perhaps the druid, providing the freakishly big elf isn’t dead.

Decides his thoughts are turning maudlin, and he has his eyes and some time, and reaches down his front to find the delicate, golden chain.

Oh, his leader certainly was generous. The necklace is stunning. A waterfall of golden droplets, each one set with a dazzling, blue stone. Perhaps topaz? They glitter in the low light. He sets it down over his armor, admires the way it flows over his hidden collarbones. Imagines how stunning it would be against his skin.

He looks again to the dark head of hair rolling against him in time with the beast’s walking. She handed it over without a thought. This woman from another plane, with nothing and no one to her name, who collected a single ring for herself (her first finery, she’d said), and then gave it to the wizard to eat it. She could have kept this. It would have been just as stunning against her darker complexion. Would have stood out like the stars on a clear night.

But she’d let him have it. Freely. Because it was magical. Because he said he could learn it.

(They really ought to find her a prize of her own.)

Enchanted jewelry sometimes carries the spell words on it. It wouldn’t do to sell a piece no one knew how to use (though the higher-end stuff usually doesn’t, for that very reason; exclusivity and all). He wonders who this was made for, to be so exceptionally-crafted, but still carrying letters on the backside of the golden drops. Some foppish lord, perhaps. One of those with more money and ego than sense, who thought throwing gold around meant he could master magic.

To be fair, throwing money about tends to get people what they want.

Either way, Astarion unclasps the piece and flips it over. Traces his finger down each droplet, mouth working silently.

He knows one cantrip, how to mend his clothing, the way to position himself in a dim tavern to entice, and how to get on his back. He supposes the wizard would know these words and immediately raise that infuriating finger to state the name. The cleric would know it. The blade would know it. Hells, even the gith could probably work it out.

At least their tiefling can’t touch something like this without melting it (can she even read?).

He mouths the words (not breathing, best not to lest one accidentally set one’s face on fire) again, feels the shape of them on his tongue. It lurks on the periphery of his mind. A shape in the fog. Something he’s known—no. Something he’s seen. A charming man in the Blushing Mermaid once, down on his luck and looking for coin. He’d amused Astarion, in some way. He just can’t remember what it was. What he’d done that made that man rise from the corpse-laden bog in his memory.

Against him, his leader stirs. He inhales, catches a curl of her scent, which is immediately drowned out by the strong smell of cool water.

He straightens in the saddle. This is enough to jostle his slumbering leader, who makes a soft sound, and jerks up. Looks around.

They’re nearing the bottom of the switchback, now curled in over itself to form a tunnel. And at the very bottom, Astarion spies a flicker of light. Orange light, and the whiff of smoke. Not the usual, cheery scent of a merry wood fire in the main hall of a rowdy tavern. This is a salt smell, slightly acrid. That dried seaweed bundle his leader had been provisioned with by those finned fanatics.

His leader draws the lizard to a halt (he’s named it Fredrik in his mind). A shadow moves against the very flickering light.

Drow, in his limited experience, do not make fires. Not the Underdark ones. This is something else. His leader comes to the same conclusion. The tadpole wiggles behind his eye as she reaches out to the others of their merry band. Finds them still distant and grouped quite close together.

Not their companions, then.

“There’s water ahead,” Astarion says.

The fish beasts had said there was a village on the bank of their mother water. That shadow down there is angled in such a way as the light and whatever blocks it must be projecting down. Meaning a structure. A gate, he’d venture, if it’s a village.

His leader pulls up her bag of holding. Roots around and finds her last Potion of Tongues. She fiddles with it.

The bizarre, unpredictable underground air shifts a new scent to him, and the back of Astarion’s skull prickles even as ache slams through the roots of his fangs.

Death. Bowels. Blood.

“Drink it,” he says.

She glances at him over her armored shoulders, eyes narrowed and calculating (he’d rather like to kiss right between those furrowed brows) (only to make her frown harder, of course).

She drinks. Holds her grimace silently.

He starts to speak, remembers her hearing is far worse than his, and leans in close. “There’s been a fight just ahead.”

She shivers. Odd, she doesn’t usually spook at news like that.

“You picking up heartbeats?” she says. Gods, he’s missed how she sounds. How her accent twists the words and the way she structures them. Hearing her at full eloquence almost tickles.

But he’s a job to do. So he listens. Counts.

“One just beyond, two lurking in the wings. Another two? Possible three further in.”

Her finger rubs over her thumbnail. She swallows again. “Drow?”

“I doubt it.”

“You can tell from a pulse?”

He nearly snorts. Nearly lies, just to watch her blink at him. But, “I’m very good, darling, but not that good. Besides, these little blood bags have torches.”

Her jaw muscles clench. Then she nods (he does appreciate someone else being observant). There’s no other approach. No back way, no sneaking from this vantage, not with the drow still after them.

“Fuck,” she sighs, and nudges Fredrik on.

They emerge into the largest cavern yet, walled off by a crude, dilapidated gate shut fast. Well, as shut fast as something that shoddy can be. He’s rather sure an errant sneeze could bring the damned thing down. A decrepit village crawls along the top and sides of the walls, like a half-rotted growth. And upon that growth, short, dark figures. Duergar, he suspects.

One of them steps forward onto a platform overlooking the top of the gate. A venerable, grizzled sort with a huge battle ax clutched in his right hand.

“Two sun-scum on a drow lizard,” he says, voice low and gravelly as a child's imaginary deep dwarf cold hope to be. “Could hear you blinking back there. Noise like that gets you eaten down here.”

“And don’t we know it,” Astarion says, slipping on the easy charm.

Said charm slides right off the duergar, whose eyes narrow. “Reckon I ought to hush you before something hungry comes along.”

On the edge of Astarion’s hearing, the faint wail of a horn bounces around the tunnel behind them. But the old battle ax doesn’t seem to notice. Apparently their famous hearing isn’t as sharp as Astarion’s. At least not yet. Once they’re aware of the hunting party after his leader and him, the deep dwarves will keep that gate shut and let the drow have them.

So he lets himself smile wider than he usually does. Lets his fangs show in full. “Oh, I assure you, we’re far more trouble than that’s worth. Why don’t you be a darling and let us pass through, and we can all forget we ever saw each other, hmm? We promise not to get devoured in your vicinity.”

Two other duergar shift in the shadows, one on either flank above.

Old battle ax hums. “Don’t suppose you two have seen a deep gnome running around?”

Astarion feels his nose wrinkle. “Thankfully, no.”

He’s content to leave it at that—mouthy little beasts throw themselves underfoot and then have to gall to squawk when they get stepped on.

But he feels his leader’s own eyes narrow. Before he can stop her, “You looking for somebody in particular?”

Oh gods. She’s going to get involved. Astarion has a fair idea what’s at play here, and what, exactly, these duergar likely are. And he feels, quite distinctly, that she will not approve.

“Oh, just on a hunt,” the battle ax says. He should leave off there, but of course, he doesn’t, because the world likes to see Astarion suffer. “Gnome bitch ran off with the sergeant’s boots. Gonna kill the little fuck shite and fetch back the leather.”

Her mouth opens. She’s a sweetheart when it comes to the downtrodden. And to him. (He refuses to think about how those two may or may not overlap.) And she won’t let something like this go unchallenged. But they haven’t the time, so he claps a hand on her shoulder.

“Ah, well,” he says. “Best of luck, then.”

Her outrage is a magical flare in the dead of night. The flash blinds his mind for a moment.

“Hold now,” the battle ax says. Leather creaks and wood squeals as the other duergar take up position and ready weapons. At least one of them carries a bow.

Shit.

“You want passage,” the battle ax says. “So how’s about you do a job for us.”

Distant footsteps shush behind them. Fredrik is a swift beastie, and they’ve been moving since they broke free, stopping only when his leader needs to relieve herself. Yet from that sound, the drow are close. Very close. They must have been running this whole time.

Of course they’ve been running this whole time. His leader carries the last piece of knowledge that decides the future of their house. He should have realized.

“We’re quite pressed for time, actually—” he starts.

“Wasn’t asking,” the battle ax says. The archer draws. “One slave is as good as another. Either you bring us that gnome, or you take her place.”

Shit. They’ll have to find a way around. Quickly. Water laps just out of sight. Either a river or another lake or possibly, if this is the village, the mother water itself. All they have to do it get out of here and find the shore and follow it along.

“Now that you mention it, that is an enticing offer,” Astarion says.

Eleanor is a burning coal in his lap.

The duergar grins. “Thought so. I’m a reasonable man. Our gnome last we heard had holed up with them rot flowers. Them myconids. Seen ‘em?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“They’re hard to miss. Walking mushrooms. There’s a colony back the way you came. You find them, you find our quarry, and we can let a few sun-scum pass through.”

Footsteps echo behind them. Surely the infamous duergar ears should have caught on by now?

“Sounds simple,” Astarion says.

She’s going to do it. The shift twists through his leader, an iron gear grinding into motion less than a second before she speaks. But it’s too late to stop her. She’s gone focused again.

“They’re all dead,” his raging bonfire of a leader says.

The duergar blinks at her. Possibly just now notices her round, stubby ears. Not a drow, not even an elf, but a human perched upon the back of a drowic riding lizard.

“Your mushrooms,” she says. “They’re all dead.”

“Darling,” Astarion tries. He really does try.

She tugs on his tadpole. Those men are slavers. That thought is an iron blade pulled straight from a forge, the air shimmering around it from the heart blasting off.

Of gnomes. They enslave gnomes, not people like them, unless they anger the duergar which she’s well on her way to doing. No one cares about gnomes.

She turns herself in the saddle. Twists right around and her face is carved of iron, her eyes are burning coals. “I do, asshole.”

“Dead how,” the old battle ax says.

The drow are coming down the switchback. Gods, they don’t even have time to turn and flee, now. They’re trapped.

“They got slaughtered by a band of drow,” his furious, foolish leader says.

Astarion is too far to catch the stink of fear sweat, but close enough the pulse of blood in their veins hooks his attention.

The battle ax seems to look at Fredrik in a new light. “Yeah? You lot know this how?”

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion says.

Eleanor smiles. He doesn’t even need to see her face to know it, to picture it: tight, almost polite, except it doesn’t reach anywhere near her eyes, which still burn. “Cause them same drow are about to swamp all y’all.”

The horn wails. A high, tremulous thing, like the dying squeal of some beast dredged up from the darkest caverns. The duergar snap straight and stare at the tunnel Astarion and his leader emerged from.

“Godsdamnit,” Astarion says.

“Shoot them!” the battle ax says.

Astarion is already unshouldering and stringing his bow, fetching two arrows and firing the first. He hits the stubby archer to the left through the eye. The vulgar thing tumbles off the edge of the wall.

“Go!” he says to his insufferable leader. “Up the wall!”

“The what?”

“These lizards can climb.”

She needs no further directions. Thumps her heels into Fredrik’s flanks and the beast shoots towards the wall. Astarion fires his second arrow at the duergar on the right—a flash of a crossbow—but the little shit ducks and the shot flies over his head.

“Holy shit fuck,” his leader says.

The lizard reaches the wall. Doesn’t even slow. It rears up and Astarion lunges forward to press himself and his leader to the saddle as the creature sprints vertically up.

He’s always wondered what this would be like. He’s heard stories of drow, obviously. And of their mounts. Trained teams can even skirt along the ceiling of a cavern. His stomach gives a giddy swoop and he giggles.

Duergar shout. Something hisses past his right ear. An arrow. But not shot from above or to the side, but from behind. And he doesn’t have to pluck the thing now embedded in the wall to know the barbed tip, likely coated in drowic poison.

“Shitfuck!” his leader says.

They fly up the wall. Ancient planks rattle under the force of the lizard’s climb. They shoot up and up, like a loosed arrow themselves, until they go weightless as Fredrik hits the top of the wall and leaps. Spreads his legs wide. Comes down with a thump and a rattle on a rotten walkway.

Astarion has enough time to look beyond—the vast cavern glowing blue under fields and fields of that blue moss on the ceiling. The deep, black sea lapping beneath it, the water darker than anything he’s ever seen. The thin strip of rocky beach where two docks jut out. And one boat, considerably more solid than anything in the village.

“Over there!” he says.

The instinct swoops out of nowhere. He doesn’t process it, isn’t even aware he’s doing it. He just grabs his leader and tackles them both to the side as something swooshes a hairs breadth from the side of his face.

The two of them hit the wooden walkway. His leader makes a nasty sound as the air punches out of her lungs.

Worse is the squeal of the lizard. The wet meat sound as the ax comes down again, and this time bone crunches. That beautiful beast gasps. It’s a last gasp, filled with death; the monster inside Astarion recognizes it.

Then Fredrik falls, practically decapitated. And the old battle ax of a duergar hefts up his ax once more.

“What the fuck have you shits brought to my men?” he snarls.

Astarion rolls to his feet as his erstwhile leader follows.

“Have it your way, darling,” he says. Draws his knives.  “Let’s kill them all.”

[flyingrainbowcorn]

THIS WAS MADE FOR ME

I can't believe Cornstarion is my first post on here...

[breadedspider]

it's hiiigh noon-

oh dip wrong fandom

[apalestar]

I’ll accept y’allstarion if you can handle down under!minthara

@spiderwarden

"A delightful time. It'd be a pleasure to meet her. Does she like trucks?"

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

They're such goofballs :3

[kaeoticneutral]

Y'allstarion is love, Y'allstarion is life

Of the themed Astarions tell me fuck, marry, kill

Y'allstarion, Pirate Astarion, or Short Hair/neck tattoo Astarion

WHO IS THIS AJSJDJDJDJDJJ

Okay, okay, lmao. I’m sorry but I would kill short hair/neck tattoo Astarion (it would be a mercy killing though because I hate that mod), fuck pirate Astarion (not wild about the hat but maybe I can wear it while we bang) and marry y’allstarion because come on. Who wouldn’t want to marry this guy? He’s near and dear to my heart.

[fiddlin-across-faerun]

Johnny whenever someone has an accent like his