#AND ASTARION HAPPENED TO BE A ROGUE ELF TOO

[lokilysolbitch]

So much respect for all the astarion blorbo posting 🫡

the brainrot is setting in i woke up from a nap today and he was behind my eyelids

[nicollekidman]

can we hear the lyra lore 🥺🥺🥺 pls

omg bestie.... i'm still actively working it out which is why i keep talking about journaling but bare bones.... she's the only child of a powerful elf family in baldur's gate, her mother is a mystery to her and her father is in Money, she's always been weird and withdrawn but like. a Dreamer in some sense.... she learns archery early and spends a lot of time alone. i don't think she's ever particularly happy or emotive but she enjoys exploring (and she's terribly vain... wants to look just like her mother). then she gets a baby sister and dotes on her to the point where she's basically raising her alone in kind of an obsessive way. when her sister is young, things start to get weird with her parents, they're gone more and more, and when they're home they're.... strange. but they want for nothing, and lyra and her sister are happy and inseparable (i'm still deciding on her name). when her sister is 20ish she's murdered, and through some set of circumstances i haven't fleshed out yet, lyra figures out it was her parents, as a sacrifice to bhaal. she kills both her parents and burns down their entire house for good measure, both so that there is no trace but also for herself.

i think she spends the next 40-50 years alone, basically doing bounty hunter work for money and drifting along. she only speaks when necessary, becomes ruthlessly pragmatic and essentially uninterested in the general population. she's basically turned off everything except her Life Functions. she gets a reputation in the lower city as the Ghost and people leave her alone because she minds her own business unless provoked or on a job (and sometimes the kids will manage to get gifts from her... they learn to read her body language and approach on good days). she keeps her rich clothes and facepaints and always looks immaculate (when you look both dead and rich, no one gets close). i think she also sometimes lets herself be bought when she's bored but if she ever ends up genuinely vulnerable or lets anything personal slip to a patron, she kills them. i think probably she's looking for something/someone to make her come back to life but she doesn't know that's what she's doing..... like being so hungry you can't feel it anymore. she's not evil and she's not robotic she's just kind of in an emotional coma, she's not even really seeking revenge bc she knows it won't bring her sister back and she can't bring herself to care enough.

i want to flesh out more of who she was before the murder but i'm waiting for her to tell me lol.

but yes, this is why she is such a freak with astarion + the party, but this post is long enough skdjfghjfkdsl canon timeline lore is insane in a different way but who doesn't want to be murdertwins with a random traumatized vamp you stumble upon, yknow.

[awkwardauthorwrites]

What If (You Were Made For Me)

Word Count: 6.2k

Themes: pining, angst if you squint, two idiots in love, fluff

Summary: Halsin realises he’s in love with his best friend, Tav

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol. Like one swear word. I almost made myself cry writing this. 

(I haven’t written since The Devil Doesn’t Bargain, please be nice. BG3 and specifically this druid has me in a chokehold, your honour I love this man, I am feral for him, he consumes my every waking and sleeping thought)

Halsin watched Tav from across the campfire, his brow furrowed as she spoke to Astarion with a smile on her face. She had been avoiding him recently and no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he couldn’t seem to put a finger on why. It had started small, with going on supply runs with anyone except for him until she gradually stopped training with him, she steered clear of his favourite parts of camp, and eventually it built up to her making excuses to not spend any more time with him than completely necessary. The explanations she gave always sounded sincere, but it had all been happening for weeks, and now there she was, sitting on the opposite end of the campfire instead of next to him and laughing and talking with Astarion.

He felt himself begin to frown as Tav gave Astarion a playful shove, a laugh escaping her as the rogue tried to wrap an arm around her shoulders to pull her back in. He watched with bated breath as Tav’s eyes lit up when Astarion held his hand out in front of her again, slowly showing her how he twirled a coin in between his fingers and how to make it look like it disappeared with a flourish. Halsin couldn’t understand it - it felt like only a few weeks ago that Tav and Astarion had regarded each other with cool indifference, but ever since the days they took to recuperate she had practically been glued to the rogue’s side.  Tav took the coin from Astarion and attempted the sleight of hand herself, her face one of pure concentration. She made it to the final turn of the coin before she fumbled it and it slipped from her grasp, a low groan slipping from her as it fell to the floor.

Halsin didn’t want to admit how he was feeling as he watched them interact, but he hated it. His chest felt tight and his gut rolled with anger and jealousy. Especially when Astarion leant in to murmur something in Tav’s ear, his voice too low for Halsin to hear what he had said to make her face flush the most delicate shade of pink. She laughed again and shook her head, her nose wrinkling the way it did when she found something unbelievable. She nudged Astarion again, softer this time as he scoffed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head as she let the pale elf know she would be right back before she wandered into the treeline. Halsin watched her disappear from sight and wanted nothing more than to follow her and ask her what had happened, to figure out when everything had changed between them. The thing in his chest clenched tighter at his heart with every second she was gone and he was torn between waiting for her return or going after her. 

“You know,” Astarion drawled, breaking Halsin out of his thoughts. “You can go after her, if you’d like.”

“And you can mind your own business,” Halsin snaps back, feeling unlike himself as he glares at the rogue. “She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, especially when she’ll only be gone a few moments.” To his credit, Astarion doesn’t flinch at the druid’s harsh tone or at the way his eyes flash gold in warning to reveal the beast that is itching to be released.

“Oh?” Astraion smirks, his fingers twirling the coin Tav had been holding earlier with practised ease. “With the way you’re acting like a scorned lover I never would have guessed. Green may be your colour but jealousy doesn’t suit you.” Halsin’s fists clench by his side and before he can even think about what he’s doing he’s stood from his seat and stalking his way across to Astarion, his jaw tight with anger and annoyance. The more rational part of his brain is telling him to calm down, that he can’t beat Astarion to a pulp just because he had struck a (annoyingly accurate) nerve, but the bear inside him is fighting its way out and wants to - 

“Halsin,” Tav’s voice rings out from behind him, her tone sharp. He stops a few steps away from Astarion and turns to face her, his ire slowly seeping away as he looks at her. She looks equal parts confused and concerned at his out of character anger, although she also seems to be a little annoyed with him too from the glare she’s giving him. “I don’t know what Astarion said to piss you off, and I’m sure he deserves the punch you’re about to give him, but why don’t we leave the violence for the near daily threats we face, hm?” Her eyebrow is raised and she looks less than amused at the scene in front of her while Astarion dramatically places a hand on his chest, feigning outrage at her words.

“I…I apologise,” he mutters, embarrassment settling in his gut at his behaviour. He risks a glance at Astarion, who is watching him with vague interest and a hint of a smirk, before shaking his head and turning back to Tav. “I don’t know what came over me.” Her gaze softens as he looks back at her and she takes a few steps forward until she’s right in front of him, standing closer than she has been in weeks. Her hand grasps one of his fists to loosen his body language and she gently tugs at his sleeve.

“Come take a walk with me.”  It’s not so much a request as a demand as she lets go of his sleeve and takes his hand in hers and begins to pull him away from the campfire. Astarion begins to whistle the tune for a bawdy ballad and without missing a step Tav leans down to grab a rock and throws it at his head. She doesn’t stop to see if it hit him or not (because of course it didn’t, thanks to his ability to uncannily dodge every blow that comes his way) and leads Halsin into the treeline, ignoring how loudly Astarion is laughing behind them.

“What’s happening? Is something wrong?” Her touch is like magic, and if he didn’t know any better he would think she’s cast a spell on him with how fast the tension leaves his body as he wraps his hand around hers. All the anger, the annoyance, the jealousy that he had been feeling earlier fades away as she pulls him deeper into the woods until they come across the small river they use to wash up in. 

“You tell me,” she says, letting go of his arm once they reach their destination. She turns to face him, a fire in her eyes as she crosses her arms and looks up at him. “You’re the calmest person I have ever met. So tell me why you were about to swing at Astarion with more anger than I saw you direct at Minthara when she tried to raze the Grove to the ground.”

“Astarion-” Halsin breaks off, feeling slightly uneasy with the glare she’s directing at him. He had seen her use the look more times than he could count, but it was never directed at him. “It was nothing. It was stupid.”

“Clearly it wasn’t nothing because you looked seconds away from shifting into your bear form and ripping him to shreds,” she snaps. Halsin’s head dips down and he runs a hand through his hair warily as her tone suddenly makes him feel like he’s a boy all over again being chided by his tutors. Tav sighs and she steps forward slightly, her hand brushing his. “Look at me,” she says softly, the anger draining out of her voice. 

Halsin lifts his head fractionally to look at her and sees nothing but kindness and concern in her gaze. Her expression is soft as she steps closer, and he itches to pull her into his arms and never let go but he can’t. He can’t because she is his closest friend and he doesn’t want to scare her away and despite believing the heart should be able to roam free he isn’t sure if hers belongs to Astarion or not and he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. 

“What did he say?” Tav asks again, her voice gentle. “I’ve never seen you that angry before, Hal, so it can’t have been stupid.” Halsin’s heart thuds in his chest as she steps so close he can feel the heat from her body, and the way the nickname she’s given him rolls off her lips makes him want to fall to her feet and beg for forgiveness. 

“He called me a scorned lover,” he mumbles angrily, turning away from her again. His face feels hot under her gaze and he doesn’t have it in him to watch her reaction as he repeats the rogue’s words. “He insinuated I was jealous of him because you’re spending more time with him than me.”

“Oh.” Tav blinks, clearly not expecting that answer and stumbles back a few steps, her teeth tugging at her lower lip in a nervous habit that set Halsin on edge every time she did it. “So you...you were going to hit him? Because he made some false, asinine insinuation that he and I were together and I had tossed you aside?” Halsin can’t tell if she sounds angry or not and he’s suddenly apprehensive at replying to her. He can usually read her like the back of his hand - and she can do the same for him - so why couldn’t he tell what was running through her mind right now?

“Is it false?” he asks, turning to face her again, his voice quiet. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, you’ve been spending your time with him. How could I not think that?” Halsin knows he’s said the wrong thing the minute the fire flashes back in her eyes and she steps closer to him again, her finger prodding him in the chest as she speaks. 

“So what if I was seeing him? We’re not together Halsin, we never have been. You don’t get to throw punches at every person I meet just because I spend a little time with them!” Her voice rises steadily as she speaks and she turns her back on him and takes a few steps away, a hand running through her hair in frustration before she whirls back to face him. “I’m not seeing Astarion, by the way, and not that it matters, but I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

“So why not me?” he blurts out, his eyes shining gold in suppressed rage. “Why is he the one you spend your time with and not me? Why does he get to steal you away from me? Why can’t I be the one to make you laugh for hours and be the sole recipient of your affection and time?”

“You-” Tav lets out a hollow laugh. “You’re joking, right? I’ve waited months - months - for you to stop looking at me like a child that needs protection. For you to look at me the way I’ve wanted you to since the moment we first spoke properly at that party after we saved the tieflings and the Grove. And now you start acting like you want me back?” She’s not shouting, but every word has Halsin flinching as if she had. “Now that I’ve finally decided I shouldn’t pine after you anymore because I’m nothing more than your best friend and you’ll never look at me the way I want you to?”

“You…” Halsin can feel his heart pudding in his chest at her revelation. He feels like someone has just yanked a rug out from underneath him and he’s free falling, but at the same time his heart soars knowing she feels the same way as he does. That she wants him just as much as he wants her. “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you just tell me?” He reaches out so he can touch her, so he can hold her. “I never thought…I didn’t want to let myself hope-” 

“How could I tell you?” She steps away before he can touch her and he swears his heart cracks as her eyes go misty and tears begin to well up. “You’re my best friend, Halsin. How was I supposed to tell you that somewhere along these months of travelling you’ve tripped me up and I’m head over heels in love with you?” The tears fall down her face and she wipes at them angrily. “How was I supposed to tell you that after you slept with someone else only a few days after I drunkenly came onto you?”

He feels his heart shatter at the sight of her tears, as he vaguely recalls the evening she’s talking about. They had stopped for a much needed break at a tavern and every single one of them had gotten ridiculously drunk as they unwound for the night. She had come up to him, her face red from either the alcohol or nerves and had run a hand down his chest in a way that set every nerve of his alight as she seductively murmured in his ear and asked him to join her in her rooms for the night. He had declined, even though every part of him screamed not to. He didn’t want her to regret things in the morning when she woke and had a clear head, he didn’t want to put their friendship at risk like that. A few nights later in the same tavern an elven warrior had come over to him when they were all significantly less drunk and had barely finished propositioning him before he whisked them away to a room for the night. 

“Tav,” his voice is hoarse and he feels like someone is running a sword through him. She never brought up asking him to sleep with her in the following days and he had assumed that meant she was embarrassed or didn’t remember doing it. When the elf had come up to him later and asked the same from him he never stopped to think about how it would make her feel. How it would look to anyone else. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” he asks eventually, “because you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” she takes another step away from him as he tries to get closer. “I’m not proud of it, and seeing your face drop every time I made an excuse not to be around you felt like someone was shoving a dagger into my heart,” she puts her hand to her chest, the tears falling freely down her face now, “but I had to do it. You…you’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more and I couldn’t be around you because it killed me to know you would never feel the same. The final nail in the coffin was when you slept with that elf. They were fucking stunning and I knew then you would never want me like I want you.”

“How can you say I don’t want you like that?” he rasps. “Have you not seen the way I’ve looked at you? Do you know how much effort it took to resist you?” He tries to inch closer to her, his body screaming to wipe her tears away and pull her into a tight embrace. 

“Congratulations, would you like a medal?” Her tone is sarcastic as she slips away from his touch yet again. “Well done on showing some restraint with me when the Oak Father knows you’ll fuck anyone else with a pulse.” Her breathing is heavy as she glares at him in equal parts anger and heartbreak. “You thought Astarion and I had something going on and you almost ripped him to shreds. Imagine how it felt for me, watching you take someone else to your bed.”

“You’re right,” he admits. “How many times have I done this to you? How many times have I pushed you away, assuming I know what’s best for you when you’re more than capable of deciding yourself who you want to sleep with. Who you want to be with.” He takes a deep breath and he lowers his walls so she can see just how much she means to him. “You’re everything I want - everything I have ever wanted. And you always will be.” His words have the opposite effect he was hoping for and she sinks to the ground, a gut-wrenching sob leaving her as she covers her face and begins to cry. 

He falls to his knees beside her, his arms reaching out to pull her into his embrace and tell her just how in love with her he is, but he hesitates inches away knowing she will only pull further away from him if he follows through. His hands land uselessly at his lap and he feels his own eyes burn as tears threaten to well up at the sound of her anguish. He blinks them away, he hasn’t earned the right to be upset, not when he’s hurt her so deeply. 

“I understand if you don’t believe me,” he says instead, his voice low and full of emotion. “If you tell me to leave right now, I will. Or if it will make you feel better to yell at me some more I’ll stay and take it. I’ll do whatever you want - whatever you need.” He pauses, hoping the words he’s about to say don’t hurt her further. “Please believe me, Tav.”

“Would you have told me?” she asks, her voice thick with tears. “If you hadn’t thought I was with Astarion, would you have ever told me?” She looks up at him and her red-rimmed eyes only cleaves his heart further in two. “If you didn’t think my heart belonged to somebody else would you even have realised how you feel about me?” He pauses as she speaks; he doesn’t want to lie to her, but he knows in his soul she won’t be pleased with the answer he’s going to give her. 

“No,” he whispers eventually. “It took seeing you with him to realise I was in love with you, and I wish every day that I hadn’t needed that reminder. I should have seen it the moment we met, the way you made me feel…” He lets out a shaky breath and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m an idiot.” Tav inhales sharply at his words and nods to herself, her jaw clenching tightly as if she’s trying to stop herself from falling apart again. 

“Well, you won’t hear any arguments from me.” She looks up at him for a few seconds before she looks away again, tears welling back in her eyes as she stands up. “I’m tired. I’m going back to camp.” She doesn’t ask him to follow her, but he does anyway, stumbling to his feet as he follows her back through the trees. He walks in silence by her side as she leads them back to camp, his body heavy and his mind spinning. The one person he wanted in the world was right next to him and he had never felt so far away from her. They return to the camp and all eyes are on them, especially when they take note of the tears that have yet to dry on Tav’s face. 

Astarion sits up as she walks over to him and throws her arms around his shoulders and begins to sob into his shirt. The vampire clearly doesn’t know how to react, but after a moment he wraps his arms back around Tav and holds her close, walking her away so that everyone in camp isn’t privy to her breakdown. Halsin bites the inside of his cheek and looks away as Astarion does what he can’t and comforts Tav as she cries. He knows now that she doesn’t have romantic feelings for the pale elf, but that doesn’t stop his chest from clenching tightly as Astarion’s hands rest on her waist and run through her hair comfortingly. 

“You’re an idiot, you know,” Shadowheart sidles up to him, her tone dry. She has an unamused expression on her face as she stares up at Halsin, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Karalch gives her a gentle nudge and offers Halsin an apologetic smile. 

“I know,” he agrees instantly. “I want nothing more than to give her the comfort he’s providing her right now, and it breaks my heart that I’ve caused her this much pain without even realising it. Seeing Astarion hold her like that…I wish it was me, but I’m glad she kind find some solace in someone here.”

“She doesn’t love him, you know. They’re only friends.” Shadowheart nods her head towards Tav and Astarion. “He’s been trying to help her catch your eye for a while now.” Halsin blinks, the information catching him off guard.

“Astarion is trying to help her?”

“And you,” Shadowheart turns her head to glare at him. “Astarion has been trying to help her with her confidence so she could test the waters and flirt a little with you. And then you had to go and reject her when she finally tried to tell you how she felt only to sleep with someone else a few days later?” The cleric looks mad now, and Halsin has no doubt in his mind that if they were in a more secluded part of the camp she would be yelling and cursing him out for treating Tav the way he had. 

“Nothing I say will ever be able to erase what I did, no matter how much I wish it could.” He lets out a sigh and looks over at Astarion and Tav again. The rogue has pulled her across the camp to her tent and through the open flaps he can see she’s lying down on her bedroll, her head in Astarion’s lap as his fingers run through her hair. “How long has he been trying to help?”

“Does it matter?” Shadowheart asks, her tone sharp. “You never even looked twice at Tav until you thought Astarion was interested in her. No one wants to be made a choice after they become unobtainable - or in this case assumedly unobtainable.” There’s a soft expression on Astarion’s face as he comforts Tav, one Halsin has never seen before. For a split second he wonders if she’s better off without him in her life, whether that’s as a friend or more, but the selfish part of him can’t bear to leave her. 

“Just give her some time, soldier,” Karlach steps forward, ignoring the glare Shadowheart shoots at her. “She’s hurt, it won’t do any good to speak to her right now, you’ll only push her further away. Give her a few days.” He gives Karlach a nod and looks back over at the campsite, wanting to disappear into the trees and give Tav the space she clearly needs, no matter how much it will hurt him. 

Shadowheart and Karlach walk away, leaving Halsin alone again. He watches Astarion cup Tav’s face in her hands and wipe away the last of her tears, muttering something he’s too far away to hear before he kisses her on the forehead. Tav lets out a weak laugh and shakes her head, and the scene grips Halsin’s chest painfully tight. He shakes his head and walks back into the treeline, his eyes glowing gold as he shifts into his cave bear form and darts into the woods.

*

One Week Later

Halsin trudges back into camp, feeling weary and more than a little exhausted, and is a little surprised to see everything is still in its place and the group hasn’t moved on without him. He shifts back into his elf form, shuddering slightly as his body protests and walks towards his tent,  giving awkward smiles and nods to Gale and Jaheira, who wave in greeting at him.

“Hey, soldier!” Karlach grins when she sees him, raising her tankard of ale in greeting as she bounds over. “Welcome back, it’s good to see you.” For a moment it looks like she’s about to pull Halsin into a hug, but decides against it at the last minute. She watches his eyes dart around the camp, no doubt looking for Tav or even Astarion, and his hopeful expression falls when he sees neither. “She’s in town gathering supplies,” the tiefling lowers her voice considerably so no one can hear them. “We’re running a little low after she all but forced us to stay here and wait for you to come back.” Halsin looks at her in surprise, but she just shrugs as if she hadn’t said anything and takes another sip of her drink. 

“I assume Astarion has gone with her?”

“You assume wrong.” The white-haired elf walks by, a book in his hands. “I’d say it’s good to see you again but…” Astarion grimaces and takes in Halsin’s dishevelled appearance. A week of wandering through the woods as a bear has left him looking more than a little worse for wear, with dirt and dust covering him from head to toe, and what felt like a small bird’s nest worth of twigs tangled in his hair. “You look like shit. You should get cleaned up before she’s back, the gods know she’ll only be more upset at you dragging yourself back here looking half dead.” He walks away and settles outside his tent, sipping idly from a glass of wine as he continues to read.

“Wyll went with her,” Karlach fills the awkward silence. “We needed a lot, so he’s gone to help her carry everything.” Her gaze softens as she looks him over, taking note of his tangled hair and the dust on his clothes. “She’s missed you, you know. She’ll be glad you’re back.” Halsin feels something in his chest loosen at the words and he hopes the barbarian is right. 

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Soon, probably. I’m not saying Astarion was right but uh…you might want to consider getting cleaned up before then. No offence,” Karlach wrinkles her nose playfully and Halsin can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle, the sound foreign to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he catches on a large knot and lets out a quiet sigh. The thought of Tav coming back to see the state he’s in pushes him to move, and he mutters a quick see you later to Karlach before making his way to his tent to grab some clean clothes and his supplies. 

He’s soon down by the river, trying not to think about the last time he stood there and the heartbreak on Tav’s face as he strips down and scrubs the week in the forest from his body and his dirty clothes. He pulls more twigs and leaves out than he thought possible and it isn’t long before he’s walking back to camp, a towel slung over his shoulder and his now cleaned and dry outfit in his hands while he wears fresh clothes. Karlach is still drinking when he returns, her feet propped up on a bench as she basks in the sun, Shadowheart curled beside her as she sips from her own goblet. 

“Halsin?” He would recognise her voice anywhere. He turns around to see Tav a few feet away, a large supply pack hanging from her shoulder. It falls to the floor with a thump as she takes a hesitant step forward. “Is it really you? Are you back?” Her voice is as soft as a whisper, and he barely registers as Wyll picks her discarded pack up and walks away, giving them both some much needed space. Halsin feels like his heart is caught in his throat. All at once he wants to pull her into his arms, he wants to fall to the floor in front of her and beg forgiveness, he wants to hide from her again but he also wants to yell from the mountains that he loves her and will do anything to fix what he broke. 

“Oak Father’s blessings, Tav,” he places his fist on his chest in greeting, his voice hoarse. He takes a small step closer to her before hesitating. He wants her to decide where they go from here. She is all he wants, but he doesn’t want to push himself onto her. He doesn’t have time to finish the thought in his head before she’s dashing across the camp and throwing herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders tightly, her legs dangling because of their height difference. Her head is buried in his neck and for a moment he forgets how to breathe let alone hug her back. He’s stunned for a few moments, and more than a little relieved that she hasn’t outright told him to shove off, and his arms wrap around her waist, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice catching in his throat. “I’m so sorry.”

She doesn’t reply, and instead she holds onto him a little tighter and he can feel the collar of his short go damp as she begins to cry silently. His eyes slip closed as he pulls her closer and he wills himself to keep it together as he uses one of his arms to grip her legs, prompting her to wrap them around his waist so that they aren’t dangling in midair. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart stuttering as she doesn’t pull away or snap at him not to touch her and he’s only vaguely aware that the rest of the camp is being ushered away by Shadowheart and Karlach so the pair can have their moment. Once everyone has disappeared, Tav pulls back and steps out of Halsin’s arms. He itches to pull her back but the glare she’s sending him makes him reconsider. 

“Don’t ever do that again!” she snaps, pushing him slightly. She doesn’t do it with enough force to move him, but surprise and confusion flits across his face. “You can’t just disappear like that for a week, Halsin! No one knew where you were, you didn’t leave a note - what if something had happened to you? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt or captured or even dead?”

His mouth flops open uselessly at her reprimand, an apology on the tip of his tongue that suddenly feels unbearingly inadequate. He can see it on the exhaustion on her face, in the dark rings under her eyes. He thought leaving and giving her some space was the right thing to do, but just like when he had slept with that elf he hadn’t stopped to consider how it would make her feel. At the time he didn’t think she would care he was gone - she was an inconsolable wreck when he left - he hadn’t realised that Tav, let alone anyone else, would have no way of getting into touch with him while he was away. The silence between them is so loud that his ears ring, and yet he still can’t find the words to say. Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover the pain he’s put her through.

“You’re… you’re not hurt, right?” she asks, the anger leaving her voice as she stares at him, assessing him for any damage that she can’t see. He tries to respond with a quip or a clever comment, but he can’t. The guilt weighs too heavy on his heart right now.

“My pride, perhaps.” He offers her a weak smile as she scrutinises him. “I didn’t mean to worry you while I was away. I just wanted to give you some space.” She opens her mouth to reply but it seems it’s her turn to be unsure of what to say. She wraps her arms around her waist and looks around at the now empty camp and tilts her head towards the unlit fire. 

“We should probably talk. I promise I won’t shout and poke you this time.” A weak smile falls on her lips as she makes her way over and sits down on one of the logs. Halsin gives her a weak smile and follows, sitting on the tree stump opposite her. He has so many thoughts rushing through his mind, so many things he wants to say to her, but when he opens his mouth to say them all that comes out is an incoherent mumble followed by a low sigh. 

“I don’t know where to start, either,” she laughs nervously and runs a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry for how I reacted last week. I didn’t mean to explode on you. It’s not an excuse, but I was just so hurt and angry and I felt a little betrayed and…I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” she gives him a faint, teasing smile and he feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “Hal…” She hesitates again, chewing on her lower lip. “Did you mean what you told me? When you said I was everything you want and that you-” she breaks off, her face flushing, but the words hang in the air. Did he mean it when he said he loved her? His face softens and he nods. 

“I did. I meant every word and I still do.” His voice is soft as he slides into a seat closer to her and holds a hand out in offering. He’ll let her decide if she wants to take it. From here on out she makes the calls on where they stand. He can live with being just a friend to her if it means having her in his life. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me anymore, given all that’s happened, but I want you to know.” She fidgets in her seat and her face turns the most enticing shade of pink as she places her hand in his and squeezes gently. Halsin has to struggle not to pull her onto his lap and wrap his arms around her, but he reminds himself that she’s in charge here. 

“I meant what I said too. Somewhere along the way while we’ve travelled I...I just fell so hard and fast for you. You mean the entire world to me, Hal. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows and looks up at him and how did he ever think she didn’t have feelings for him when she looked at him like that? He was blind to have not seen it before. “I’m not going to lie, it stings that you only wanted me after you thought I was taken by someone else. But...I’m selfish. I love you, Hal. I-I’m putting my heart on the line here, I want to be with you. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine.”

“Tav,” he whispers, pushing himself to his knees in front of her. “My heart does not stir easily, but…” he pauses to let out a quiet, warm chuckle. “I feel like it never truly started beating until I met you. Nature outdid itself with you, and the Oak Father will have truly blessed me if he allowed you to be by my side. My heart is yours, as is every other part of me.” Tav lets out a breathless laugh at his words and sinks down so she is also kneeling in front of him, her hand winding around his shoulders so she can fiddle with his unbound hair. 

“And mine is yours,” she murmurs, a smile flitting across her face as his hands come to rest on her waist. He pulls her onto his lap like he’s wanted to since he first realised he had fallen for her, and he’s rewarded with a beautiful blush and coy smile.

“You’re all I want. I don’t even want to look at anyone else but you.” He leans in, his lips brushing across her jaw softly before he places a kiss on her cheek. “My love, my heart, my soul; they’re all yours.” Her breathing hitches and her fingers tangle themselves in her hair in response and she leans in, her lips a breath away from his

“Halsin, may I kiss you?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” He closes the gap between them, his lips brushing hers tenderly once, twice and a third time before he grips her hips and kisses her like he’ll never have the chance to again. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the feeling of her hands in his hair, or the sweet sounds she makes as he pulls her impossibly closer, but he relishes the feeling all the same as they more than make up for their lost time.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 1

~~~

Author’s Note: I have barely been writing anything (I usually write for the Good Omens fandom) since I started playing BG3, but then a few days ago I felt compelled to start on *something* for this fandom that has completely taken over my mind. I usually post on AO3 but for some reason I wanted to post a first teaser-chapter here on Tumblr.

So here it is, my first (unbeta’d) venture into the BG3 fandom. I have no idea where this is going except that the endgame is a happy ending for Tav and Astarion.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (Mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do.

~~~

You watch him laugh as Shadowheart leans closer to whisper something in his ear, and the unwarranted jealousy that has your chest aching leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He may be sharing your bed now and then, but you have no right to him. For all you know, he might be spending his other nights with each and everyone in your camp. And that is his prerogative; pretty words aside, Astarion has never promised you anything other than fantastic sex.

A bitter smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. You are sure he thinks he has you wrapped around his finger. That he has convinced you that this means more to him than it actually does. The sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it, but it doesn’t really matter, because none of the others hear you, too busy listening to Gale regaling another story about his ex.

Annoyed with yourself you rise, an excuse prepared on your tongue in case anyone questions your departure from the merriment. The lie remains unspoken and you’re relieved when you can slink into the shadows unnoticed. Relieved, but also perhaps a bit sad. It’s funny, you’ve spent most of your life aiming for anonymity, to stay under the radar. The unexpected friendships you’ve made since the kidnapping has unravelled all of that. Have made you aware of the dark and empty space in your heart you’ve successfully ignored until now.

Except it isn’t empty anymore.

It happened gradually, and without your permission. A dashing pale rogue stealing your affection when you weren’t looking. Because yes, while you know that his only reason for talking his way into your bed was manipulation, he has unintentionally shown you glints of his real self during your time together. He’s a complicated mess, just like yourself, and you love him. Love everything about him, even though it hurts.

So maybe he has you wrapped around his finger after all, because if you had any sense, you would end this thing between you. You should, but you are a selfish being. One day Astarion will realise that he doesn’t need to use sex to feel safe with you, but until that day comes, you will greedily accept every scrap of attention he gives you.

“Pathetic.”

“Talking to yourself, darling? Or have you made another furry friend when I wasn’t looking?” Astarion gracefully — why is that even when he’s pleasantly drunk, the elf manages to appear graceful? — sits down next to you in the grass. “You already have three of them in the camp, surely that’s enough?”

“Three?” You try to gather your thoughts, but it’s difficult when he is this close to you. “Scratch, the owlbear cub, and…?”

“Halsin, of course.”

“Of course,” you repeat dumbly. True, the druid was in his bear form when you first met, but something in Astarion’s demeanour makes you suspect that that isn’t what he meant. Images of Astarion undressing Halsin floods your mind. Halsin is a handsome and powerful man, so it would make sense for Astarion to seduce him too. Just like he had with you.

“Why are we sitting here, by the way?” Astarion shifts to lean on one hand, his face tilted back to take in the full moon. “Wanted a more romantic setting than your tent this time, darling?”

Oh. So you are the chosen one for the night. You were certain it would be Shadowheart, considering.

“Are you alright, Tav?”

For a moment you let yourself believe that the hesitation you hear in his voice is founded on genuine concern. That he truly cares beyond the deep-seated need for self-preservation ingrained in him. But the illusion can only last so long. You know enough of his history not to hold his actions against him, but right now you’re not in a headspace to pretend that everything is fine. And yet, you try.

“Of course I am.” You hold back a flinch when you hear the acid lacing your words like a toxin. It gives too much away, so you do the only thing you can think of. Your hands are already grabbing fabric before you have finished your thought, pulling him closer before he has time to examine your statement too closely. Before he can figure out your lie.

The night air is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the hot mouth claiming yours. You might regret it tomorrow, but right now, this is exactly what you need. In Astarion’s arms, you can forget everything but him and what he gives you. Around other people he can seem petty and cruel, but when he’s with you like this… this is different.

Or least that’s what you tell yourself. You cling to the illusion that this is special, and you succeed — until you feel yourself leaning your head to the side, offering your neck.

Astarion doesn’t ask it of you, he never does. It’s always you that wordlessly gives him what you believe is what he truly wants.

And this time it reminds you that deep down, this is just a transactional act for Astarion. Nothing else. He doesn’t care about you, not really.

After you’re both sated, you drift off to sleep without meaning to. It has been a taxing day, both physically and mentally, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking down at you with an indiscernible expression in his red eyes. Almost as if you’re a puzzle he can’t figure out. Except that doesn’t make any sense, because to you it feels like he saw right through you the first time you met.

Some time later, you’re vaguely aware of strong arms lifting you from the damp grass. You must’ve made some noise, because you feel a warm breath against your ear.

“Hush, my darling, you don’t want the others to wake up.”

Exhaustion drags you back under, and when you next wake up, you’re in your tent. Alone.

~~~

[littlejuicebox]

Dadstarion prompt - Astarion responsible for watching Gale and something happens that makes Tav mad! Nothing serious but you know how kids draw on the walls and stuff? Something silly and cute like that!

Stuck

This prompt is very cute! Thanks for all the submissions, I will be working through several of them when I have time. You guys all had great ideas!

Summary: The twins are here, and Papastarion is primarily on Gale duty. He's trying his best, but balancing a family and work is proving to be very difficult, indeed. Can be read as a OneShot but it’s also part of my Dadstarion series.

Tags/Warnings: fluff, dadstarion, parenting, children, very mild angst with comfort, lmk if you see anything else

Word count: 1.9K

-----

Astarion is exhausted. 

In comparison to the twins, the first month with newborn Gale had been a breeze. But two wailing infants had both the silver-haired elf and his little love on edge constantly. The pair of babes seemed to egg one another on, greeting one shrill cry with another; an hour of silence was an absolute luxury nowadays. 

The family were in the midst of one precious modicum of silence now, and his drained wife had quickly snatched the opportunity to rest in their bedchambers. The poor woman always had a newborn attached to her breast or a toddler wrapped around her leg, it seemed. Astarion stepped in where he could, but unfortunately he did not have the anatomy necessary to help with certain parts of parenting. So daddy was primarily on Gale duty nowadays.

Gale had also been struggling, in his own way. The change in his parents' attention had caused the previous ball of sunlight to turn surly. This had been anticipated, of course, and his parents knew this adjustment would take time. But catering to three needy children and a wife still recovering from childbirth had Astarion at his wits end. Trancing is certainly an efficient form of regaining energy, but even he could only go so long on a deficit.

The father hears a knock at the front door, just as he’s placing a plate of breakfast in front of his eldest. The silver-haired boy is eyeing the food, his nose wrinkled in displeasure, always the spitting image of his father in his mannerisms.

“Daddy, what’s that green stuff on my eggs?” He asks, his tone tipping up into a whine. 

“Chives, Gale,” Astarion responds, perhaps a smidge too harshly, wiping his hands on a towel as he exits the kitchen and crosses the foyer to the front door, “You like chives, little prince, you always eat your eggs like this when mommy makes them.”

The three year old eyes the eggs suspiciously and then quickly swipes them under the table as his father walks away. Their mutt, Apple, eagerly snatches up the offering with her sticky pink tongue. 

Astarion swings the front door open and dramatically sighs with relief, “The reinforcements are finally here. Thank the gods. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see you two.” 

Shadowheart and Lae’zel stand in the entryway, unloading their bags. 

“Good to see you, too, Astarion. Our travels were fine, thanks for asking,” The cleric responds, rolling her eyes at the retired rogue. Gale comes running out of the kitchen to greet the two women, instantly wrapping himself around Shadowheart’s limbs with a babbled, excited greeting. Apart from Uncle Gale, Auntie Shadowheart was easily his favorite of his parents’ friends. 

“I would like to be clear that I am only here because Shadowheart has forced me along,” Lae’zel states, assessing the elven man coolly, “You look terrible. I’ve never seen your hair like this before.” 

Astarion is about to retort when a sharp wail echoes throughout the foyer, followed by a nearly identical one from the second twin. 

“Let’s go see if we can help Tav,” Shadowheart beckons Lae’zel, already heading toward the master bedchambers,  “Gale, we have a gift for you from your Uncle Gale. It’s in the front pocket of my bag, Astarion.” 

The older elf bends down and retrieves a small package addressed to the three year old in the wizard’s tidy script. The little boy grins as he opens the gift from his namesake, revealing a pot full of some sticky, stretchy, slimy substance. Gale tries and fails to open it, so his father bends down to assist, examining the gift with distaste. 

Leave it to the Wizard of Waterdeep to send such a messy, disgusting gift.

Gale pulls the gelatinous thing out of the small jar and giggles at the sensation of the viscous putty. As the little boy smashes the substance through his hands, it changes color in front of his eyes and he oohs in surprise. 

Well, at least this will keep him occupied, Astarion thinks. He needs to get some work done. Pascal, his steward, had been on him about the revisions for that contract and the purchase order for the winery since last week. 

The older man scoops his son up and makes his way toward his office, hoping that with Shadowheart and Lae’zel here to assist with the twins, he will be able to complete the bare minimum of his task list today. Though, admittedly, he cannot wait to see how his little viper of a friend handles the babes; he’s sure there will be a story or two from Tav later on.

*

Astarion is re-reading the contract in front of him for a third time. He’s so tired that it’s difficult to focus. He messily scratches out another line of text and writes an edit above it, speaking to himself under his breath, trying to keep the words coming out in the correct order as he scrawls across the page. 

Is this exhaustion truly how humans feel all the time? It’s absolutely horrid. How do they get anything done? 

Gale emits a shocked cry from the sofa, ripping the older elf’s attention from his work to find the source of his son’s distress.

No. Oh no, no, no.

Gale’s head is completely covered in the sticky slime. The substance is wrapped around his curls, pulling his hair up in chunks. 

The contract is abandoned as Astarion rushes to his son and examines the damage. The little boy is pulling anxiously at the putty as he begins to wail in distress, which is only causing the slime to further spread across his hair.

“Papa, it’s stuck!” He shrieks, his hands flailing and fumbling around, trying to rip the toy from his head. Tears are streaking his face as he continues to fight against the toy.

“Stop, Gale!” The older elf exclaims, barely holding on to the final shreds of his patience as he grabs his son's two tiny hands between one of his own, “Hold on, let me see.” 

Shit. This definitely isn’t good. 

Astarion groans when he realizes he has to tell his wife what happened. Facing her wrath was almost as terrifying as facing the Netherbrain, and his gut sank with dread as he scooped the child up, hair still caked in slime, and walked in the direction of the bedchamber. 

*

“I still cannot believe this, Astarion,” You hiss at your husband under your breath as Shadowheart trims the ends of Gale’s silver curls in your kitchen and Lae’zel entertains him with stories of their travels. Most of the putty came out with generous applications of oil, followed by a bath for the three year old, but the final bits ultimately had to be cut.

You are holding one twin in your arms, Astarion is holding the other. The two of you are an endless bobbing and swaying duo, trying desperately to keep the infants from breaking into another fit. 

“Can we please give it a rest, darling? Blame our wizard friend for sending that ridiculous toy to our three year old!” Astarion responds through a belabored, weary sigh as he gently pats the back of the infant in his arms, “I’ve already apologized; I should have been watching Gale but twins or not, business continues on. We can’t stop working entirely, we do need money, you know. And we need to start interviewing for nannies while Shadowheart and Lae’zel are here.” 

You sigh. You’re both exhausted and doing the best you can. You know this. But this is not how you’d envisioned Gale’s first haircut. Watching the fine silver curls of your eldest fall to the floor, caked with slime, causes you to tear up and you quickly blink the wetness away.

You know it’s mostly the hormones. But it’s also the inexplicable guilt of your first baby no longer being your only baby, despite the happiness you feel about the twins arrival and Gale’s general exuberance at being an older brother. 

“All done!” Shadowheart exclaims as she ruffles the child’s hair, and the little boy grins and turns to look at the both of you with those adorable green eyes, searching for your approval.

“Very handsome, Gale,” Astarion compliments, “I think we might look even more alike now, if that’s even possible.”

Papa is good. He knows the quickest way to soothe any worries is to make sure Gale feels like he and his father are just alike. He absolutely adores his father and constantly mirrors everything about him.

“I agree,” You continue, moving forward to press a kiss onto the crown of the three-year-old’s head, “You look just like daddy now, my little love. What do you say to your Aunties?”

“Thank you Auntie ‘Heart and Auntie Lazy!” Gale exclaims, hopping off the stool he was perched upon and running to pet Apple, where she’s resting under the kitchen table, gnawing on a ball. You, Astarion, and Shadowheart all stifle giggles as Lae’zel’s mouth drops open in offense at being called lazy.

*

Later that night, you two are in bed, basking in another rare moment of silence. You’d read Gale his bedtime story while Astarion sat between the two rocking bassinets and kept the twins in constant sway, lulling them to sleep after they ate. 

“I knew this was going to be hard,” You sigh as you settle yourself in the crook of your husband’s arm, “But gods, Astarion, it really feels impossible.” 

Astarion presses a kiss onto your forehead, “Yes, darling. It does. But what have you always told me about doing impossible things?”

“That we’ve done the impossible things before, and this shouldn’t be any different.” You respond with another sigh as your husband brings his hand up to run his fingers through your hair.

He nods and yawns, “And for some of those impossible things, we required help, little love. Just like now.” 

You understand his meaning. You were struggling with the concept of hiring someone else to help you with the children; it somehow felt a slight to your pride and simultaneously made you nervous to have a complete stranger responsible for your offspring. Who could love and protect them more than you and Astarion? No one. 

But Shadowheart and Lae’zel being here undoubtedly made the day easier. Having them for a few weeks was going to be a blessing, indeed. You could already see it. 

Astarion was right. You two had the means to hire help, and your entire family was suffering without it. You’re about to tell him you know he’s right, but the poor father of three has already drifted into a trance, snoring loudly in his exhaustion.

You chuckle and place a small kiss to his cheek before settling beside him.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel take the first shift, allowing you several straight hours of sleep for the first time in over a month.

It truly does take a village to raise a child. It seems it takes a small army to raise three, at least for now. But your merry band of misfits has never shied away from a challenge. This isn’t any different.

And how lucky you are to have them all in your life, so willing to lend a hand whenever and wherever they are needed. Family is not always blood. Sometimes it is just the dangerous vampire, strange alien and secretive half-elf you meet after a terrible crash, instead.

Fate spins along as it should, though you aren’t always privy to the destination.

And isn’t that exciting? 

[baldursgrave69]

A Pretty Sight - Mature

*this is my first time writing smut, I hope y’all enjoy 🫣*

Rating: NSFW - MATURE, MDNI

Pairing: Halsin x Astarion x fem!durge (named)

Word count: 2.5K

Tags: MDNI, afab!durge, threesome, unprotected sex, piv, blood drinking, vaginal fingering, feelings, oral sex

While writing this I was listening to: Take a Slice by Glass Animals

Find me on Ao3 here

“Halsin you really don’t have to come with. Gale and Astarion are joining me, I’ll be alright,” Agnes said, perched in Halsin’s lap at a table in the Elfsong Tavern. Gale, Astarion, and Agnes were planning their trip to the House of Hope, joined by Halsin who was never far from Agnes’ side. Halsin wrapped his arms around the half elf, leaning his head on her shoulder. “I know you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, little thief. But I can’t just sit here while you’re in the Hells, I’d worry too much,” Halsin said as he pulled her closer. “Let him come, we can use him as a shield,” Astarion said from beside Agnes with a smirk. Agnes rolled her eyes, leaning back into Halsin’s embrace. “Ugh, fine,” she grumbled, closing her eyes. “You’re just loved, my heart. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you while I was sitting here,” Halsin trailed off, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Alright, alright,” Agnes said, turning to look at the druid. She cupped his face in her hands, pressing a kiss to his nose. A smile crossed Halsin’s face as Agnes pressed her forehead to his. He nuzzled his nose to Agnes’ before pressing his lips to hers. Agnes wrapped her arms around the Druid’s neck, leaning into his kiss. “Ahem, as much as I’d love to watch you two go at it, we really should focus on coming up with a plan for tomorrow,” Astarion said with a devilish grin. Gale cleared his throat, shifting in his seat awkwardly. Agnes pulled away from Halsin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before turning back towards the table.

“As we were saying earlier, it’s going to be rather pricey to get Helsik to help us get to the Hells,” Gale said, his finger drumming on his chin. “I don’t relish the idea of emptying our pockets to get to this ‘House of Hope’,” Astarion added. “I’m not worried about it,” Agnes said, lifting her mug of ale to her lips to take a sip. “Oh, did you remember you have a stack of gold somewhere? We can’t exactly afford to just give her everything we have,” Gale snipped at the rogue. Agnes narrowed her gaze at the wizard, setting down her mug. “I don’t plan on paying her anything. I was able to convince her to let me in once before, I don’t see why it would be a problem this time,” Agnes said, a hand stroking Halsin’s hair. Gale scoffed at Agnes, waving a hand at her dismissively. With a quick motion, Agnes threw her dagger at Gale, it landed just above his head, taking a bit of hair with it. “What in the hells!?” Gale yelled, ducking down as not to hit his head on the dagger lodged in the wall. “I find that I can be very persuasive. Perhaps you should trust me on this one,” Agnes said nonchalantly, hugging Halsin tightly. “Gods, you’re amazing,” Astarion said in a low tone, Halsin humming in agreement. “Oh for the love of… I’m heading to bed,” Gale grumbled, beginning to scoot out of the booth. “My knife, if you would,” Agnes said, holding out her hand towards Gale. “Get it yourself,” he snapped, standing quickly and heading up to their rented rooms.

“He’s so sensitive,” Astarion laughed, reaching over and pulling Agnes’ dagger out of the wall. She held out her hand for Astarion to give it to her, but he grabbed it with his free hand and peppered soft kisses to her wrist. “Are you hungry, my love?” Agnes asked, as Astarion looked up at her, his fangs grazing her veins. “Mm, I wouldn’t say no to a taste,” he hummed, releasing her hand and giving her the dagger. “How could you, she’s positively decadent,” Halsin said, his face nuzzled in the crook of Agnes’ neck, kissing along her tattoo. Agnes felt a shiver down her spine as she felt Astarion’s fingers ghost across her thighs. “Just what are the two of you up to?” She asked, looking over to see Astarion laying a heavy gaze on her, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. He allowed his hand to trail along her inner thigh, his eyes blown wide with lust. “Perhaps we should head upstairs, hmm?” Astarion purred, squeezing Agnes’ leg before removing his hand. “What do you say, little thief? Would you like to have some fun?” Halsin whispered, Agnes could feel the growing erection in his trousers pressing against her leg. “I think that sounds like a lovely idea,” Agnes said, her voice coming out more breathy than intended. Halsin needed no further encouragement, he swiftly picked the half elf up, putting her over his shoulder. “Halsin!” Agnes squeaked, dizzy from the ale she had been drinking. “Save your voice darling, you’ll be screaming our names soon enough,” Astarion purred, patting Agnes’ backside as Halsin carried her up the stairs to a private room.

Halsin entered the room followed by Astarion, who swiftly closed and locked the door. The druid gently placed Agnes on the bed at the back of the room, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling away. Agnes propped herself up on her elbows, watching as Astarion approached the foot of the bed. “What a pretty sight,” Astarion said, crossing his arms. “Isn’t she?” Halsin agreed, licking his lips, one hand trailing down to cup his erection. “I could say the same,” Agnes said with a smirk, feeling her arousal grow as she eyed the two elves in front of her. Seeing Halsin’s sheer size next to Astarion made her clench her thighs together, growing even more wet. Astarion made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and pulling his tunic over his head. Agnes’ eyes trailed along the vampire’s body, her mouth hanging slightly open as she took in every inch of his beautifully smooth, pale skin. Agnes could see Halsin have a similar reaction as he eyed the other elf, the vampire looked ethereal in the candlelight. Astarion climbed up onto the bed, using a hand to spread Agnes’ legs apart and pulling himself up along her body. “I cannot wait to taste you, my love,” he whispered, his head dipping to her neck. Astarion pressed kisses to her bite scars, a hand pressing her harder onto the bed. Agnes moaned as Astarion sucked at the skin around her scars, his tongue occasionally lapping at her neck. “Astarion,” Agnes moaned breathlessly as he slipped a hand under her shirt, cupping her breast. He groaned, realizing she wasn’t wearing a bra. Astarion pulled her shirt up over her head, thumbing at her nipple causing her to whine. “What is it, little love?” Astarion said grazing his fangs across her neck and pressing his erection against her clothed clit sending a wave of pleasure through her body. “Please, just…” Agnes couldn’t get her words out, her head clouded with lust and the faintest hint of drunkenness. “What do you think, Halsin?” Astarion said, pulling away from Agnes to look at the druid. He was watching the two on the bed, palming his cock through his pants. “I think she needs to tell you what she wants,” Halsin said, walking around the side of the bed for a better view. Agnes rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of Astarion’s curls and pulling him into a kiss. Astarion groaned as he felt her leg come up to press against the erection straining against his pants.

Astarion pulled back, a smirk crossing his face. “So impatient,” he tutted, pushing himself back off of the bed. Agnes narrowed her gaze at him, letting her head fall back in frustration. “What do you want, my heart? Tell us,” Halsin said, cupping Agnes’ jaw and turning her to face him. Her eyes widened as she noticed Halsin had removed his trousers, his other hand wrapped around his impressive length. “Gods, Halsin,” Agnes groaned, his thumb trailing along her bottom lip. She pulled his large thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it and sucking. Halsin and Astarion both let out a groan as they watched her, Astarion now quickly removing his own pants. Agnes pulled her mouth off of Halsin’s finger with a pop, spit running down her chin. Halsin wiped it off for her before pulling her into a kiss. Agnes was so lost in the druid she almost didn’t notice the tug on her bottoms. “Up,” Astarion ordered, patting her leg. Agnes lifted her hips as Halsin’s tongue pushed its way into her mouth. Their tongues danced as Astarion pulled down Agnes’ trousers and small clothes, gently lifting her legs as he removed the clothing. Astarion’s cold fingers ghosted up her legs onto her thighs, kneading into the soft flesh. “I can see how wet you are already, pet,” Astarion purred, pushing her knees to spread her legs for him. Agnes pulled away from Halsin to look at Astarion lying between her legs, his hands trailing her thighs. He shot her a devilish grin before dipping his head to press soft kisses between her thighs. Agnes threw her head back onto the pillow behind her, wiggling under Astarion as he gently trailed his lips closer to her core. “Look at me, my heart,” Halsin purred, pulling her face towards him. She looked over to him, a whine escaping her lips as Astarion licked a stripe up her thigh. Agnes watched Halsin pump his cock as, a groan escaping his lips. “Use your words, love. What do you need,” Halsin said breathily, looking down at Agnes. “I need to taste you,” Agnes whimpered, bringing her hand up to Halsin’s length and swiping her thumb across the tip. Halsin groaned as he kneeled on the bed, bringing his cock closer to Agnes.

“Yes, my love, I want to see you take all of him,” Astarion said as he trailed his fangs along Agnes’ thigh. Just as Agnes was pulling Halsin’s cock into her mouth, Astarion plunged his fangs into her thigh, a loud sigh escaping him as he felt her blood flood into his mouth. Agnes moaned around Halsin’s length, her tongue swirling around his head. Halsin threw his head back, a hand coming up to grab her braid. Astarion dragged his fingers through Agnes’ folds as he continued to feed, groaning at how wet she was. He pulled his mouth away from Agnes’ thigh, the rush he got from her blood leaving him a bit light headed. He lapped at the new wound, licking up beads of blood as they dripped out. Halsin used Agnes’ braid to bob her head up and down his cock as Astarion teased her entrance with his icy fingers. She moaned loudly as Astarion pushed two fingers inside her, curling them upward. “Gods you sound so beautiful,” Astarion groaned, kissing the inside of her thigh as he pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt. Halsin pulled back on her braid, her mouth coming off of his cock with a pop. “Does that feel good, little thief?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her. “Yes,” she breathed as Halsin captured her lips with his. Astarion leaned forward, dragging his tongue along her clit as he fucked her with his fingers. He began drawing lazy circles with his tongue, slowly pulling his fingers out of her.

Agnes moaned into Halsin’s mouth, her back arching up off of the bed as she ground her cunt against Astarion’s face. Halsin pulled back from her to watch Astarion lavish her pussy, his hand pumping his cock once more. “Astarion you look positively divine devouring her like that,” he breathed, spitting in his hand to lubricate his length. “Oh, Astarion,” Agnes whined, her hands tangling in his hair. She could feel her climax building as Astarion lapped at her with reckless abandon. Agnes pulled on his hair, bringing his face up to hers. His eyes were wild, blown wide with lust as he breathed heavily. “I need you inside me. I want to come on your cock,” she growled, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling him closer. Astarion was too far gone to make her wait any longer, dragging his cock along her folds to wet his length. He nudged his head at her entrance, groaning at the feeling of her. As he pushed himself inside, he grabbed Halsin by the hair and pulled him in to a kiss as he began pumping his cock into Agnes. “Oh, gods below,” Agnes moaned, the feeling of Astarion pumping inside her and the image of the two elves devouring one another in front of her nearly pushing her over the edge already. Agnes wrapped her fingers around Halsin’s length, stroking him to match Astarion’s pace.

Astarion pulled back from Halsin, bringing Agnes’ leg up to rest on his shoulder so he could get a better angle. He leaned forward, a hand gripping the headboard behind Agnes as he resumed a bruising pace. “Fuck you’re so… gods,” Astarion was close, Agnes could tell by the sheer nonsense spilling out of his mouth. “Come for me, Astarion,” Agnes whined, continuing to stroke Halsin’s cock with one hand, the other gripping Astarion’s curls. Agnes could feel her own climax building, the new angle punching the air from her lungs. “By the Oak Father, the two of you look so… ah,” Halsin groaned, rutting into Agnes’ hand as he watched Astarion fuck her, gripping the headboard with one hand. Agnes pulled Astarion closer by his curls. “Come for me, please,” she begged against his lips, feeling his pace grow more erratic. Astarion pressed his forehead to hers as he came with a grunt, spilling inside her. Feeling him come brought Agnes over the edge, a wave of pleasure overcoming her body. Halsin wasn’t far behind the other two, spilling into his own hand at the sight of his lovers tangled in one another.

Astarion curled up next to Agnes, his forehead pressed to hers. Halsin joined the two on the bed, embracing Agnes from behind and pressing kisses to the back of her neck. “I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow,” Agnes chuckled, nuzzling Astarion’s nose with hers. “Gale will be pissed,” Astarion added, stroking Agnes’ cheek. “Oh he’ll be fine,” she said, lacing her fingers with Halsin’s. “Would you like to take a bath, my heart?” Halsin asked against her neck, continuing to lay kisses to her soft skin. “Mm that sounds nice,” she hummed. Halsin squeezed her hand before getting up from the bed. “I’ll run it for you,” the druid said with a smile, heading towards the bathroom. Astarion pulled Agnes into his arms, burying his head in her neck. “Are you alright, Star?” Agnes asked, holding Astarion tight. “So good,” he murmured, nuzzling his head in the crook of her neck. She smiled, draping a leg over his waist. Astarion pulled back to look at Agnes, his expression soft. “I love you,” he said with a smile. Agnes pulled him close to her chest, hugging him as tightly as possible. “I love you, too” she whispered.

[tinosawruswrites]

Jealousy

Week 1: Jealousy (One-shot)

BG3 Baddies/Lilith Hell Discord server Fanfic prompt

Word count: ~5000 words

Synopsis: Astarion ponders over his irritation upon seeing Alina (Tav) sharing friendly intimacy with Gale (and Shadowheart) and attempting to deny that it stems from jealousy.

Tags/Warnings: Named Fem! Tav (Alina), OC Tav with backstory and defined personality, rogue half-elf Tav, spawn Astarion, side character Gale, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Scratch, jealous Astarion, mild spoilers for the end of Act1, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse and torture, mentions of scars from abuse/torture (back and forearms), allusions to Astarion’s past abuse, smut, penis in vagina sex, pretentious ponderings of things and feelings, endless musings and vague dialogue attempting to create subtext.

Additional notes: Huge thanks to Zaria's The Rabid House Server and those who helped by betareading and giving me grammar lessons! You know who you are! <3

It was a calm evening for once. The group was on their way towards Moonrise, taking a long rest after spending the whole day traveling over the mountain pass. Everyone was at ease, mostly, or pretending to after the dud that was the gith Créche.

Lae’zel in particular. The warrior was uncharacteristically absent, her head full of things to solve after finding out about Vlaakith’s deceit. She sat sternly at the far sidelines of the camp, deep in silent meditation, uninterested and unbothered by the others relaxing by the fire.

Astarion felt he didn’t have much in common with Lae’zel, but found himself in a similar sort of – albeit entirely different and entirely self inflicted – kind of inner turmoil.

He watched as Alina laughed with Gale near the campfire. The two sat side by side, practically glued to one another. The sight made Astarion’s mouth go uncomfortably dry and he took a slow sip from his wine goblet, holding back the grimace that formed from the sour taste of vinegar hitting his tongue.

His eyes followed the way the wizard’s hand fell on the half-elf rogue’s shoulder all too casually for his liking.

Too close.

Too familiar.

Too intimate.

But why?

He had been intimate with her, way more so than the wizard could ever hope to be.

He’d successfully seduced her and bedded her in the forest some weeks ago. After that night, he’d approached her again during the tiefling party and she had agreed to share his bedroll on more than one occasion ever since.

Hells, she sometimes approached him – the shy, timid Alina approached him, for a heated midnight tryst!

That, if anything, meant something and yet… it might have meant nothing at all.

He lowered the goblet from his lips, glaring daggers at Gale’s back from the shadows he sat under. He wished his stare would somehow sting the wizard enough to force him to keel back and remove his grubby fingers off of Alina, but nothing such happened. The wizard kept touching Alina, and the painful stings kept assaulting his own heart instead.

The way Gale could be at such ease near her, so openly enthusiastic about his boring, fringe interests and hobbies while being so godsdamned sincere about himself annoyed him to no end.

How could someone be so reckless?

How did he manage to survive this long without putting up a front and maximizing the others interest by careful analysis and then providing what the other sought according to said analysis? To him, Gale’s haphazard approach to social interactions was severely lacking and somehow the wizard was still winning and by the looks of it, bloody enjoying himself.

Astarion fixated on the hand that slid to gently pat Alina on the upper back. A spot he knew she was sensitive about anyone seeing in particular, with the ragged scars accumulated under her merciless debt owner littering the full length of it and all.

A spot, he had never directly touched as of yet himself either, and whenever he did so indirectly, made him uncomfortable, prompting him to remove his hand lest he push on her limits too hard to drive her away…

After all, she was self-conscious enough to hide them at all times, even when they had their little midnight meetings.

And there was Gale. Resting his stupid magic hand over Alina’s back so stupidly casually, not a care in the world.

The stinging in his heart began to burn like it had actually managed to carve a tiny hole through his undead flesh. He closed his eyes, lifted the wine goblet back onto his lips and took another bitter sip of the vile liquid in order to wash away some of the pain.

Gale had never laid with Alina, but was somehow closer to her, while he had, and his presence was reduced to sitting in the shadows at the edge of camp.

Not because nobody wanted him near the campfire, no. He was allowed to, maybe even welcome, but something kept him at bay.

Deep down, he knew why this was, but acknowledging such a thing would mean admitting defeat, and he was very keen on not doing so.

It was a frivolous little thing, an irritatingly ardent feeling that had made its existence known to him right after he had slept with Alina the first time. It was supposed to be a simple performance, a perfect illusion that would secure Alina’s heart under his ministrations, but each following night they shared, it became increasingly more difficult to keep the mask of indifference on his face.

He might have been intimate with Alina, but had never shared true intimacy with her.

That was the plan and it was working, so why did he still feel like he was losing? And to a socially awkward wizard no less??

“Either the wine in your cup is sour enough to crease your face, or it’s the other way around.” Shadowheart mused from the side rolling her own wine goblet in hand.

Astarion forced his face into seduction mode, easing any and all tension from his face like a magic trick.

“What ever do you mean?” He asked lifting his brows at the cleric.

Shadowheart raised her own brows up in tandem, giving him one of those sly knowing looks of hers.

“Oh, I just ought to point it out, since my wine was starting to taste oddly sour in your presence. Jealousy is a bad look on you, to be honest.”

“Jealous?? Me?” Astarion retorted with a dry laugh and his eyes fell back onto Gale and Alina.

He was about to take another sip of his wine, but froze as he witnessed Alina leaning against Gale and giving him a partial hug. Shadowheart watched as Astarion’s grip tightened around his wine goblet, threatening to break it if it was anything else but metal.

“Mmh-hmm.” She hummed swaying closer.

“For an over two centuries old immortal being you’re surprisingly clueless about things. Or just playing dumb. Which is it, actually?”

“Things? What things, girl? Be more specific,” he spat back at her.

He got another knowing look from the half-elven cleric.

“I wonder...” Shadowheart mused, now standing right next to him.

She extended an arm towards the way he was facing, pretending to scan what Astarion was looking at, as if she didn’t have the insight to what he was so miffed about.

“Oh! I see it now.” She exclaimed and settled to focus on Alina, who had her head rested against Gale’s shoulder in the distance.

“That’s what’s got you so worked up.” She looked Astarion in the eyes, the gleam in her green irises shining arrogantly bright over her clever assessment.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous. What I have with her is more than boring, innocent cuddling.”

“Oh trust me, I and the rest of the camp are well aware.” Shadowheart stepped back with an unimpressed half-smile on her lips.

Astarion smirked.

Alina was the quiet type and didn’t make much noise, unless a situation really called for it. Even her speaking voice was soft and tender, and she preferred to stifle herself even when she was in terrible pain. In contrast to this, she was surprisingly loud when she was feeling good – and Astarion knew how to make her feel way better than just good.

The morning after the tiefling party had been an extremely embarrassing event for her, when the others subtly brought it up to her during breakfast. After that, he’d made it a thing to let her howl out his name in the middle of the night every once in awhile, just as a reminder who she was tumbling with.

Astarion grinned a smug toothy grin, once again frowning at Gale’s turned back.

“Tell me then, dear Shadowheart, what is it that I’m so jealous about, if I’m so intimate with her already?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Shadowheart stared at him without blinking and took a long, slow drink of her wine. She tasted the wine before swallowing it and peered inside her now empty cup.

“Oh, would you look at that. All out of wine. I would ask for a refill from your bottle, but I know you’d just say no. Then again, I don’t think I’d actually want any. ‘Sour grapes’ and all.” She flashed him a brilliant smile before swaying away and joining the others near the campfire.

Astarion scoffed at the cleric, finished his own wine and remained scowling in the shadows in his own bitterness.

---

As the evening progressed, Astarion witnessed Shadowheart shooting glances back at him while pretending to be drunker than she was and leaning towards Alina, cuddling her excessively. The half-elf rogue would become flustered, but accept her companion’s innocent appearing clinginess nonetheless.

Astarion rolled his eyes at the cleric’s antics, ignoring the blatant spite thrown his way, well aware of the game she was playing.

Two could play that game, but something prevented him from stepping in and participating. He knew it would be a simple win for him – To saunter over, say “hello darling,” sit next to Alina, pull her against his body and nobody would even dare to approach her the rest of the night, no doubts about it.

But it would be a sour win on his part, because it wouldn’t be just a silly game to him at that point.

Shadowheart leaned to hug Alina, resting her head over the rogue’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Astarion. He watched as the cleric played with Alina’s hair and how she returned the sentiment with a couple friendly strokes of her own.

Astarion just smiled at Shadowheart, feigning calmness in front of her adversarial behavior.

Much to his delight, Scratch the dog suddenly appeared and bombarded Shadowheart with a slobbery storm of affectionate licks as revenge for not paying enough attention to him.

The cleric pulled away from Alina, both hands sheltering her face from the onslaught of jealous canine love. Astarion chuckled with his book in hand, watching Shadowheart trying to fend off the furry fiend, resorting to running away altogether.

Alina laughed at Shadowheart’s mock panic and Astarion felt all the more better for it.

---

After nightfall, Astarion waited. He laid still in the silent dimness of his tent, waiting for Alina to come to him, if she ever would. He stared up at the purple fabric ceiling of his enclosed resting quarters. A lonesome wax candle provided a comfortable amount of light to ease the cold darkness of the night.

It had been a couple days since their latest meeting and he was hoping she would come by for another night of passion, especially after what transpired earlier that evening. He had a lot of things on his mind he’d want a distraction from.

He thought about how it felt when he saw Gale being so close to Alina, looking so intimate without ever having to take his clothes off or throwing himself at her.

He thought about the conversation with Shadowheart and the hesitancy he felt despite clearly being in the right.

He was right.

Because if he wasn’t, then he’d lost not only to her, but to himself as well.

The shuffle of fabric and a familiar form sliding inside his tent snapped him out of his head. A relieved smile grew upon his lips when he laid his eyes on Alina. The half-elf rogue smiled back at him, her cheeks already red.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Do you mind some company for tonight?”

“You know I never mind if it’s you, darling.”

“You are allowed to say no if you aren’t feeling it, you know,” she countered sweetly, taking a seat next to his feet.

He said nothing to her offer, instead choosing to admire her form to further drive in her welcome status in his presence.

Alina turned to admire the solemn lonely candle glowing on the small nightstand at the corner, allowing Astarion a moment to take her in. She was donning her regular loose camp clothes: A white, long sleeved collar shirt, basic brown trousers and simple leather shoes.

An unassuming combination, that was worn more for comfort than style, hiding away most of her surprisingly curvy body.

Astarion lifted himself up to his elbows and hooked up one of his knees, giving Alina a seductive look.

“So, looking for a cuddle?” He blurted without thinking.

Alina turned her head to him, eyes wide in mild surprise.

Astarion reeled for a couple fateful seconds and attempted to remedy his momentary breach of character. He cleared his throat and fixed his smile.

“Cuddling sounds nice.” Alina tilted her head with a smile.

“Oh, but surely, you’re looking for more than just a simple cuddle, aren’t you, you sweet little thing!” He purred and watched as Alina’s cheeks grew in color.

She giggled.

“I was wondering if you’re hungry, actually.”

It was a silly question. He was always hungry. Such was the nature of being a vampire. It was still kind of her to ask such a thing, because it wasn’t a question as much it was an offer.

Astarion kept smiling and nodded. He pushed himself up to sit. Alina nodded and crawled closer. She laid herself next to him on the bedroll and scooted flush against him. He took position over her, like so many nights before.

Alina’s golden eyes blinked up at him calmly. Her gaze was relaxed and her body at ease under him despite what was to come. It was in stark contrast to their first feeding session, back when they barely knew each other and all he cared about was rebelling against his master.

Alina had been afraid. She had been tense and could barely mask the shivering of her body when he took his first drink of her delicious life blood. Since then, she’d grown accustomed to it all, the slight pain, numbness and subsequent wooziness afterwards.

Astarion had gotten better at the biting thing himself, finding a comfortable position, able to break skin without too much pain and drinking just enough to sate himself and little enough to not make Alina too ill.

He took one of her hands into his, kissed the back of it and laced their fingers together before leaning in. He rested their joined hands against the side of her head and heard a small hum escape Alina’s throat.

He could have just drunk from her wrist, but both of her forearms were littered with the same destructive marks from her debt owner as her back was. Another spot he had rarely seen and touched directly, fully covered up by her long sleeves even now.

Sensitive. Painful. Intimate.

Alina turned her head for him and exposed the column of her neck, revealing a faint set of bite marks from earlier feedings. Astarion trailed his nose along her freckled skin, hovering over her pulse point, inhaling the intoxicating scent of fresh apples and vanilla that lingered on her body and clothes.

Among her scent were hints of paper and ink, Gale’s cologne, wine and Shadowheart’s perfume.

He felt the stinging in his heart return and felt an urge to retaliate.

He could just bite harder than usual and make Alina feel a smidgen of the burning, stinging pain he was feeling inside his cold hard chest.

That, if anything, would serve her right for making him feel this way.

The sharp ends of Astarion’s fangs pressed against Alina’s subtle flesh, his breath ice cold and heavy on her skin. He opened his maw wider, ready to let the beast take over and punish her, but pulled back moments before it could.

What good would come of him inflicting more pain on her than necessary?

He was in pain and wanted her to know it. But had Alina not suffered just as much as he had already – as proven by the scars she carried on both of her forearms and back?

And unlike him, still showed him kindness, gave him comfort, forgave his shortcomings?

Astarion paused.

Those were all characteristics that pulled him towards her in the first place, what made her so malleable and quite frankly, easy to manipulate. It was also why she was so well liked by the whole camp, him included.

She was…sweet. Truly, and honestly sweet.

He couldn’t hurt her like that, shouldn’t hurt her like that.

He blinked a couple times and ran the fingers of his free hand across the side of her neck as if wiping away loose strands of her hair. The hand that clutched against his gripped harder for a moment. A signal of her continued comfort. Alina’s eyes remained closed, blissfully unaware.

She trusted him so blindly, but he could barely even grin in her presence without feeling like a fraud.

Astarion’s heart ached.

Alina was so close, and yet so far.

And no matter how many times he shed his and her clothes off, he knew that that kind of closeness would only ever be skin deep.

He swallowed and pressed a long kiss against the bite scars on Alina’s throat – like a wordless apology, seeking forgiveness for a sin he had committed against her.

He kissed her neck again and again, each time sinking lower beneath her collar, trying to make amends the only way he felt he could.

Eventually, Alina turned her head to peek at him. She raised herself slightly and brushed a hand through the side of Astarion’s face, a curious look in her eyes.

He smiled at her, hoping to come off as genuine enough.

“I find myself extremely peckish for more than just your neck tonight, darling.”

“You do?” She grinned at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling from joy.

“Hmmm.” Alina kept smiling and tilted her head, inspecting Astarion’s face.

“We can get better acquainted once you’ve had your fill.”

“You know I never have my fill, not when it’s you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you romantic you.” Alina grinned and rested her head back down, her neck fully exposed once more.

Astarion chuckled and decided not to dally any longer. He leaned back in, sinking his fangs into her neck confidently. Alina tensed momentarily, but relaxed after a while, rubbing her thumb soothingly against the hand she was still holding firmly.

Astarion sighed against Alina’s skin, tasting the heavenly nectar in his mouth, swallowing it with big earnest gulps. This was what he wished his wine goblet was filled with whenever he drank and not that rank, vile bile they carried along backpack loads of.

He reveled in her taste and the pleasant hotness that brought his body back closer to life with each swallow.

Alina’s pulse grew more erratic and he knew it was time to stop. He pulled away, licking long languid lines over the two new punctures on her skin. Alina giggled and Astarion began to kiss down towards her open collar again.

His body was practically singing to him – his usually cold limbs felt warm and lively, his skin more sensitive. All his other senses were more keen and sharp as well, his eyes able to spot the tiniest of motions, his nose the smallest of differences in scent, his ears hearing every stifled little sound.

Astarion sucked on the skin at the edges of Alina’s shirt, then bit on the fabric, playfully yanking on it with his fangs. Alina’s pulse remained high and her breathing heavy. She brushed a hand through the back of Astarion’s head, playing with the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

She unlaced their hands and reached to unbutton her shirt for him.

Astarion followed along with each opened button, kissing down the line of skin that revealed beneath the parting shirt. Alina let out pleased little gasps as he went, her hand falling behind his head again, petting through his hair soothingly.

His own breathing had grown heavier and his body was slowly reacting to Alina’s growing arousal. Yet, a part of his mind was still occupied by the way Gale and Shadowheart clung themselves to Alina, seemingly more intimate with her.

He might have held her body, but her heart was out of his reach.

His mouth fixated over Alina’s sternum, just above where her beating heart laid. His fangs dragged over her skin, the maw within him hungry to dig itself deeper and sink its fangs into the ever beating muscle.

He became aware of himself again after Alina let out a pained whimper and he saw the small bleeding scratches that his fangs had left on her chest.

He met Alina’s gaze, silent panic rising inside of him. He tried to smile it off, but felt the edges of his lips drag downwards instead.

“...Astarion?” Alina asked with worry.

Astarion panted.

He felt out of breath despite not needing to breathe at all.

“Were you still hungry…?”

“Yes, that’s it. I was just…”

He was in pain again. A deep, stinging burning inside his chest, coiling around his heart like thorny vines that were on fire. He swallowed dryly, almost missing the sour wine he had downed earlier.

He snapped back to it again when two warm hands cupped each side of his face, turning his head. He came face to face with Alina. She looked patient as a saint, kind like an angel.

“You can have more if you want,” she said softly.

“I…”

He stared into her eyes without blinking, studying the calmness of them. Her pupils were blown wide as she studied him back, her whole demeanor giving off a sense of tender affection.

With that he let Alina guide him back towards her throat. He inhaled the coppery remnants of the previous wounds and nuzzled against them.

His stomach felt comfortably warm, his vampiric hunger sated for tonight. Drinking more of her blood would help to keep it that way longer, but would do little to ease the tightness in his chest.

But admitting to something else would mean losing the game.

Astarion hesitated and kissed the wounds, then bit back through the fresh fang marks, slightly missing and punctured another set crookedly beside them. Alina let out a stifled whine. Astarion pushed Alina down against the ground, once more drinking from her like a desert during a rainstorm, unquenchable, insatiable.

He pulled away when Alina’s pulse began to dip, knowing he passed the line of comfort for her. A red tainted string of spit connected his lips to her neck. Two sets of fang marks now decorated the side of her neck, blooming red from irritation and spilled blood.

Alina panted slow and heavy, her eyes clearly more unfocused.

“… Any better?” She asked weakly.

He nodded.

His stomach felt fuller, but his chest tighter than before.

“How are you feeling…?” He asked barely above a whisper and Alina blinked up at him.

She looked paler, but her cheeks were still somewhat flushed.

“I’m fine, just a little woozy.” She smiled.

He nodded and managed a tiny smile himself.

“Fine enough to ‘get better acquainted’?” He teased.

Alina flashed him a grin and nodded.

He hadn’t lost the game.

---

Discarding both of their clothes came easy to him. Astarion did so swiftly and without any trouble, an art he had over two centuries of time to perfect.

Astarion left Alina’s shirt on as he always did, to ease her mind off of the scars on her back and forearms, even if he wouldn’t mind seeing them.

Since when did he feel this way?

He’d seen them back at the grove with everyone else. Deep, ugly gashes running every which way up and down her back. Hideous to look at. Her forearms were no better, and if it weren’t for Gale, he and everyone else would have been spared from knowing what grotesque scarring from consistent and regular torture looked like.

At the time, he felt lucky his own were just a morbid poem his master carved onto his flesh over the course of a night. A long, agonizingly painful night, but just a single night nonetheless. Still, he couldn’t bare thinking of actually seeing the scar himself and was partially glad, he probably never would have to.

Alina panted beneath him. His hips moved against hers in languid motions, controlled and automatic. Astarion had both of his hands clasped with hers on each side of her head, their fingers tightly intertwined. She was looking directly at him, her golden eyes filled with desperate want.

Her body felt hot and sweaty against him. Her core was slick and swollen from arousal, making it easy for him to keep up his pace. Alina whimpered and moaned quietly beneath him, either conscious of her own voice and purposefully keeping it down, or too tired to let the world know how good she was feeling.

Even without her usual vocalizations, Astarion knew how good she was feeling. The subtle trembles of her body, the way her back arched when he aimed his hips a certain way… It wouldn’t be difficult to force her voice out, but tonight, it didn’t feel appropriate.

Instead, he drank in the quiet noises of pleasure that slipped past her lips, satisfied by the private secrecy it gave to their little rendezvous. He smiled and increased his pace to edge her further. Alina’s jaw gaped and she let out a pitiful gasp. Her hands grasped his even tighter, her nails digging into his skin.

He smiled, enjoying the view of their group’s resourceful, witty leader rendered into soft, quivering putty in his hands.

Alina squirmed under him, a telltale sign of her approaching release.

Astarion’s flesh yearned its own release, his abdomen tightening in preparation as he watched Alina’s pleasure contorted face. It was like clockwork these days. Watching Alina as she came apart in his hands did things to him, things he never thought he could feel with another person.

Every movement came automatic to him, practiced to perfection like a rigorous dance. No room for self-expression, lest it break the fantastic illusion he was projecting. He felt himself slip away, but was immediately yanked back into the moment by hungry kisses.

Alina licked her way into his mouth, skillfully pulling all his attention back to her. She was growing so close, the way her wet folds clasped his strained length confirmed it.

He let his focus slip away in the moment, knowing once Alina reached her peak, he’d get his – a treat he got to experience almost without fail with her.

Alina’s hands slipped away from his lazy grasp and winded over and around his neck and shoulders, pulling their bodies flush together. Her soft, ample chest squished against his toned chest and her plush thighs pressed harder against his sides. One of her hands settled behind his back, while the other tangled lovingly into his hair.

His own confused hands felt around the bedroll before instinctively wrapping under Alina’s back, holding her tight.

She broke the kiss that had continued all this time and panted right next to his ear, her voice whiny and desperate.

“Astarion…!” Alina whimpered and Astarion felt a jolt run through his spine.

He rocked his hips harder and Alina’s legs fell wider apart. Her voice threatened to grow in volume and pitch, but Astarion got overwhelmed by an increasing need to keep all of this moment to himself. He sealed her mouth with his own, capturing each and every moan between his lips.

He tasted every corner of her mouth, already knowing each and every inch of it, still not bored to explore through it all over again. Alina kissed him back fervently. Her tongue pushed boldly past his back into his mouth, unafraid of the sharp fangs that might scrape and make her bleed.

Astarion moaned when he felt one of Alina’s hands stroking through his curls and lightly yanking at the strands every now and then. The hand over his back was digging its nails into his skin, a slightly painful, but welcome feeling he’d grown to enjoy.

Finally, Alina’s breathing grew erratic and her movements shaky. Astarion smiled against her lips and brought her over the edge, soon following suit. Alina’s pleasure bloomed around him, heated wetness convulsing around him as he spilled inside of her. His hips shook against her, their rhythm broken and uneven. He hummed against Alina’s lips, the blissful heat of his own orgasm washing over him.

Both of them stilled, the silence around them filled only by their heavy breathing and the occasional wet sound of their conjoined bodies still moving against one another.

Astarion moved to separate their bodies, but Alina wrapped her legs around his lower back, trapping him in place. She cupped his face with both hands and kissed him slowly. Astarion blinked in surprise and eased into Alina’s wordless demands, allowing her to shower him with more physical affection.

Usually he parted their bodies quickly after everything was done, like finishing a smooth, clean business transaction with no further clauses to fill. It was how he used to go about things. A neat modus operandi to keep things simple and to prevent himself from getting too involved.

Alina was an exception – “a regular”, as he sometimes thought to himself. He found himself slipping further from his own rules each night he spent in Alina’s embrace, lured in by her sweet nature and the gentle allure of her touch.

She caressed his cheek with a thumb.

“That felt good.” Alina said softly.

“I am well aware. You were about to wake up the whole camp again…”

Alina’s happiness died and turned to embarrassment. Her blush reached all the way up to her pointy ears.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Oh, yes you were, sweetheart.”

“I held back.” She claimed.

“Correction. I held you back.”

“Maybe.” Alina peeked to her side, feigning ignorance.

Astarion chuckled.

“I am in control of you darling.”

“Are you?” Alina tightened her legs around his lower back and rolled them over.

Astarion let out a little whimper, staring up at Alina in shock. She sat upon his hips with her back straight, hands drawing lazy patterns on his abdomen.

“You’re more than welcome to prove me otherwise.”Alina smiled and leaned down over to him.

Astarion smiled and remained where he was, allowing Alina to pull him into another slow kiss. He relaxed against her, thinking through her statement and forgot about it altogether, melting into her kiss.

All thoughts about Gale and Shadowheart were gone, pushed off the cliff of his mind into the pit of obscurity.

Alina was here, in his arms. He had her all to himself, and she had him all to herself.

He had lost the game to himself.

[baldursgate3gayz]

Give Me a Constitution saving throw (Gale X Barbarian Tav fanfic)

(This is based on my sister and I's characters in a campaign we have together. Syx is the dumb barbarian who can't read and is fascinated with beautiful men. Gem is the warlock kinda bad bitch who don't take no one's stupid shit)

The fight with Nere was over fast.

At least, Syx thought it was. He couldn't really remember any of it. He also couldn't really see with his vision being so blurry or hear with how muffled everything sounded. He also felt hot, like really hot. He kind of hated it.

When he fully opened his eyes, a figure stood over him, some kind of halo around their head. Syx stirred a little at that.

"Are you an angel?" He asked with a rasp; his throat was dry for whatever reason.

"I don't think anyone would ever describe me as one,"

The barbarian blinked a few times, which helped his vision clear just enough to see this angel morph into his friend Gem. Her brow was furrowed, and she was frowning; Syx flashed her a smile.

"Gemmmm!! Even better, I don't want to see angels just yet,"

The elf above him shook her head at him, a slight smile on her lips as she took hold of one of his hands. "Yeah, yeah. That's not happening yet. Now, it's time to get up, big guy."

With great effort, she could at least get him to sit up, but as his vision swirled, he almost fell back. But instead, he hit a pair of legs that were behind him. There was a loud 'humph!' and Syx glanced behind him, and his heart fluttered at who he saw.

"Gale!" The barbarian yelled happily, gazing up at him. "I thought I wasn't supposed to see angels yet! What are you doing here?"

The wizard's face turned red, and the half-elf could vaguely hear Gem laughing. The two muttered to each other briefly, but Syx couldn't hear them, so he just stared up at the beautiful man above him. With his eyesight blurred, Gale seemed to shine brighter; sweat and grime caked his face, but he was still the image of refinement to the barbarian. No hair out of place, no blood on his face; Syx could stare for hours. The wizard looked down at him and said… something; the half-elf couldn't quite make out what he had said, but the wizard stepped away from him, much to his dismay.

Suddenly, Syx felt a tugging on his arms, and when he looked forward, Gem and Astarion were pulling on his arms. When he felt Gale pushing on his back, the barbarian realized they were trying to stand him up. With great effort, he hefted himself up with the push and pull help, getting to his feet. He swayed very far forward; the warlock and rogue looked up at him with fear as they were about to get crushed. Syx swung himself backwards, although he went a little too far and felt Gale give him a great shove forward. The barbarian could hear the group yelling at each other, mainly Gem yelling at the other two men, but he couldn't make out the words they were saying. Finally, Syx stopped swaying and was semi-stabilized; he gave the group a dopey grin but winced as he did when his head throbbed in pain. A hand was placed on his arm, and he looked down at Gem.

"How are you feeling?" She asked with concerned eyes.

It took Syx a second to answer through the ache in his head.

"I can't see well or hear well, and my head kinda hurts,"

The elf was nodding as he spoke. She looked around momentarily before turning to the other two, and Syx tried his best to listen in on them.

"We should sit him down; Astarion and I will take care of Nere and-"

"Nere?" The barbarian yelled, causing the other three to flinch. "Where is that bastard? He needs an axe to the face!" The half-elf tried to look around, but the world started to spin again. He'd have lost his footing if the three hadn't caught him. "Don't worry, Syx, we got him," Gem gestured to the others to grab ahold of Syx's arms, and she started walking back. The half-elf felt his arms get hosited over the two men's shoulders and heard a disgusted grunt from his right. "Gods, you stink! How can you even stand yourself?" Astarion whinged. "Gale doesn't mind," Syx answered, hearing a snort from Gem and an embarrassed groan from the wizard.

The two men helped guide the large half-elf to a wall and had him slide down it to sit against it. Syx closed his eyes to ease some of the pain in his head; he could hear the others talking a little better now.

"We'll get Nere's head. Gale, I trust you can watch him for those few minutes," Gem said.

"Even in a time like this, you still are finding ways to be snide?"

Syx heard a smack.

"Agh! Yes, yes! I can watch him! He's not going to do anything anyway,"

"Watch your tone, wizard; you have a track record of failures when it comes to him," Gem growled.

"Are you going to get the drow's head or not?" Gale snapped back.

There was a brief pause, another smack, and a yelp of pain from the wizard before Gem spoke again.

"Come on, Astarion. I'll be back, Syx; just stay here." He felt her hand ruffle his hair and hummed at her, eyes still closed as they walked off. There was a beat of nothing but the muffled sounds of lava flowing when a hand was placed on Syx's cheek. He opened his eyes to see Gale kneeling before him, his head tilted as he looked over the half-elf. The barbarian nuzzled into his hand and smiled.

"Are you alright?" Gale asked quietly.

"Better with you here," Syx answered, gazing at the beautiful man before him. The older man laughed as he brushed his thumb across the barbarian's cheek. "You're ridiculous," He whispered, smiling back at the younger man. In the dim light of the lava, with his ears muffled and his vision hazy, Syx felt his heart give a decisive thump. Gale looked so human, covered in the aftermath of a tough battle, with a smile that made Syx understand why Mystra chose him as a lover. The greys in his hair seemed to sparkle, his eyes held a spark of the Weave, and the way he smiled at the half-elf as if he was the only person in the world. He was true beauty, body, and soul. Syx wanted him to know.

"I love you." He said as he gazed up at the most beautiful man in all the planes.

---

"I love you." Syx said.

And Gale's heart seized.

He couldn't get his brain to even think of what to say as his tongue lay fat and useless in his mouth.

Syx had just told him he loved him.

Syx, the 20-year-old huge, half-elf barbarian who has no memory of who he was before the nautiloid, who couldn't read and potentially had brain damage from their last fight, just said he loved Gale.

And all the wizard could do was stare back into those mismatched purple and orange eyes staring back up at his.

"And what are you two doing?"

Gale startled back, much to the apparent disappointment of Syx, and looked over his shoulder at Astarion, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. The wizard glared at him. "Nothing, where's Gem? Did you get the head?" He asked as he knelt back down to the barbarian, who practically squealed as he did. Gale tried to ignore the flutter his heart gave. "She's talking to the gnomes. It was all rather boring, so I left, but whatever is going on here seems much more interesting," The vampire spawn drawled with a smile. The wizard was very tempted to throw a cantrip at him, but enduring Gem's wrath would not be worth the moment's joy, so instead, he just focused his attention on the barbarian. "Nothing's going on. I suggest you drop it." He said lowly, brushing aside some of Styx's hair to check for visible injuries. He heard the vampire click his tongue. "Oh, fine; I swear you are just no fun."

"Who's no fun?"

Gale looked up from Syx to Gem, standing above them with her arms crossed. She glanced at Astarion before looking down at Gale; the warlock shrugged. "Never mind, I think I already know," The wizard frowned at her, then stood, holding one of Styx's hands with his own to keep the half-elf happy. "Did you get the head?" Gale asked. The elf kneeled down next to Syx, who gave her a goofy grin, and she smiled back. "Can't get to it with all the duergar here. We'll have to wait until tomorrow," Gem gave the barbarian one last look over before standing. She had Syx's other hand in hers. "It's fine, though. We should probably get the big guy to camp and have Shadowheart and Halsin give him a look over," She said as Gale nodded. They both chuckled when Syx made an interested noise at Halsin's name.

"You know, we could just leave him here."

The wizard and warlock looked over to glare at the pale elf, who had his hands on his hips and a rather smug grin. Gale opened his mouth to berate him, but Gem beat him to it as she launched an eldritch blast that whizzed past the wizard's ear and flew just above the vampire's white hair. Gale smirked at the spawn's shocked expression and tried to help get Syx on his feet again. Gem joined in, and after a minute of failing, Astation joined them, mumbling something that sounded a lot like "No one has a sense of humor." under his breath.

---

Gale sat atop some ruble away from camp, staging into the darkness of the ruins of the Shar temple. The party had gotten back to camp a few hours ago, handing their barbarian over to Shadowheart and Halsin for a quick check-up. It was surprisingly easy; Syx followed every instruction the wood-elf gave him. Gale had tried to ignore the stir of jealousy in his stomach at how the two men looked at each other but found it a little too difficult, especially with Syx's words still rattling around in his brain. So he decided to leave camp for a bit, hoping the silence would soothe his brain, but it only allowed him to think of Syx's confession repeatedly. Those wide eyes staring at him, how honest the barbarian's voice was, it was all a little too much for the wizard. He was about to resign himself to a sleepless night when he caught a glimpse of red hair out of the corner of his eye.

"Syx?"

The barbarian's head popped into view, and he gave a wide smile.

"Oh, hi Gale!"

The wizard stood from his spot. He was able to see the half-elf-full with a blanket around his waist. From past experiences, he knew that it was the only thing he had on.

"What are you doing up?" Gale asked, a bit concerned.

"I had to pee. Halsin said I could," The barbarian answered.

The wizard chuckled. "Well, if Halsin said,"

Syx nodded and turned to leave. Gale panicked a little as he took a step forward.

"Syx! Uh, wait," The half-elf turned to him, tilting his head at Gale, and he couldn't help but see the similarities between the barbarian and Scratch. "How do you feel?" The wizard asked, cringing inwardly as his voice cracked.

"Ok, my head kinda hurts, but other than that, I think I'm fine," Syx answered. Gale's heart pounded as the two looked at each other; the confession of the barbarian weighed between them. The wizard opened his mouth to speak, ready to talk about it when the half-elf interpreted him. "Although, I don't remember anything from the fight,"

The wizard paused. "You don't remember…?"

"No, all I remember is talking to Nere and then waking up in my bed roll. Halsin filled me in about what happened," The barbarian answered.

"You don't remember anything after the fight either?" Gale asked, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

Syx shook his head. "Nope, just Nere's stupid face, then having to pee," He tilted his head again. "Why?"

Gale stammered for a second, trying to organize his scattered thoughts. "Uh, no reason. It's probably not good that you do not remember any of that Syx,"

The half-elf shrugged. "I don't remember my life before the mind flayers; what's one fight?"

The wizard was a bit stunned at his response but laughed. "I supposed that's true.," The two chuckled before the he looked up at the younger man. "You should probably get back to bed," Gale said through huffs of laughter. The barbarian saluted him as he stepped towards camp but paused, looking back at the wizard. "You should head to bed too, Mister Gale of Waterdeep," Syx teased with an eyebrow raised. Gale nodded and put his hands up in a playful defense. "I will, I will. I promise," He said, giving the younger man a smile. His heart squeezed, and his orb glowed faintly when the barbarian gave him a broad smile and stared at him like he was the only man in the world.

"Goodnight, Gale." Syx said softly, just loud enough for the wizard to hear.

"Goodnight Syx." Gale said back at the same volume.

The two continued to look at each other for a moment before Syx stepped away, heading back to camp. The wizard watched the half-elf walk off, a little skip to his step. The wizard waited till he was well out of earshot before he signed, whispering under his breath.

"I love you too."

The original was posted on my aO3

thank for reading about my boi and his love for Gale

[razrogue]

Ilina Gavren (Gan) | Wood Elf | Rogue | She/They | 138

What is your Tav’s…

favorite weapon: Bloodthirst

most prized possession: a pendant

deepest desire: to have power; not the political or royal type but the type that the minds and hands behind them have

guilty pleasure: none cause if she enjoys it she doesn't feel guilty about it

best-kept secret: that she was an assassin wayyyyy before the tadpole happened to her

greatest strength: being highly observant

fatal flaw: tends to poison or stab first when very very VERY annoyed

favorite smell: cedarwood, sandalwood, pink peppercorns

favorite spell or cantrip: disguise self/infiltration expertise

pet peeve: when people complain about her services being too expensive or not wanting to pay at least half upfront

bad habit: killing people for a living lol

hidden talent: can sing but will only sing at home and never in public or around crowds

leisure activity: whittling

favorite drink: nonalcoholic - tea; alcoholic - Barrel-Aged Callidyrran, Blingdenstone Blush, & Highsun Liqueur

comfort food: plum tart, venison stew, fresh bread

favorite person(s): Astarion, Minthara, and Shadowheart

favored display of affection (platonic and/or romantic): platonically - laying her head on your lap or letting you lay on hers; romantically - sitting behind you and wrapping her legs around you

fondest childhood memory: learning to swim with her siblings

Tagged by @bhaalbaaby (TY 💙)

No obligation tagging: @raysoffrost @meishuu @omgkalyppso @tuxedo-rabbit @the-eldritch-it-gay and anyone else who wants to participate!

[fkitwebhaal]

Fic: Extracted Notes from the Journal of One of the Saviors of Baulder's Gate.

IN CASE OF COMPLETE MEMORY LOSS

SECTION: PEOPLE YOU NEED TO KNOW

LAST UPDATED: 1494 DR

Shadowheart: half-elf, black hair usually kept in a braid 

Cleric: don’t know what God, doesn’t want to talk about it. You’re 75% sure you know who it is, but writing it down might get her in trouble, so you’re gonna have to start from scratch. Sorry. 

I’d give you a hint and say it’s a God you don’t like, but you don’t like any Gods. 

Saved her from a pod in Natoiloid. She’s grateful about it.

It wasn’t hard to do, don’t think too much of yourself for it. 

Likes Night Orchids and can’t swim.

You don’t know if you can swim and you’re not sure how to find out. Ask Wyll?  

Lae’zel: Githyanki, usually found attending to her weapons at camp 

Fighter: You also met her on the nautiloid

Note: she’s Githyanki. They’re  from the Astral plane, have a lot of experience with Mind Flayers. She’ll tell you more about them if you ask but she might be mad you forgot so specify you forgot due to your brain, not because you didn’t listen. 

Honest. 

Probably as confused as you are but hides it better.

You have an unofficial system that if you don’t know something everyone else knows, she’ll nod if she knows, and she’ll tell you about it later and vice versa. You have never discussed this agreement, it’s just a thing.  

Once confused one of your headaches for turning into a Mind Flayer. If it happens again, remind her of the scar on your head. Unless you’re actually turning into a mindflayer in which case, let her kill you; she’ll be quick about it. 

Don’t leave her and Shadowheart alone together, they’ll either kill each other or fuck and you’re not sure the odds of each. 

There was a thing on the nautiloid. It’s really not important. 

Best to ask questions you need short answer to. 

Gale: Human, has a beard, often reading. 

From Waterdeep. Former Chosen of Mystra.

You don’t like Mystra and not just because she’s a God. Ask literally anyone other than Gale why. 

Wizard: found him stuck in a portal after the crash. 

Has a tressym named Tara. You don’t know what a tressym is, and it feels too late to ask. 

Lae’zel doesn’t know either. 

Special diet: ask him for more info. He’ll tell you. On your camp supplies page, you’ve starred things that you can give him.

Do not tell Astarion about the items you have starred. He does not need to know about them and he will be upset at you for “wasting” them. 

Best to ask questions you need a detailed answer to.

Astarion: elf, pale, curly white hair.

From the Gate. Escaped a bad living situation (not writing down more for privacy).  

Rogue: met him when the Natoiloid crashed. He tried to rob you at knifepoint, you headbutted him in the face. It’s fine now.   

Was once a magistrate. He does know legal theory, but you don’t know how correct it is. 

You two share murder mystery novels. Ask him where you two left off, though you’ll probably have to start the novel over.

Yes, the books are bad. Yes, that is on purpose. It will make sense later. 

Special diet: ask him for more info. He won’t want to tell you, but he’ll do it anyway. Remind him you have an agreement. 

A liar, but don’t hold it against him. So are you. 

Wyll: human but with horns, one missing eye

From the Gate, current “Blade of the Frontiers”

He named himself that. You didn’t know that was a thing you could do until you met him.

Warlock. Patron is a bitch. Met him protecting the Grove and teamed up if you agreed to hunt down Karlach. 

Don’t worry Karlach and him are fine now. 

The horns are a sore spot. Don’t bring them up unless it’s a compliment. He earned them for a good reason. 

His father is a Duke who threw him out. Wyll doesn't like to say anything bad about him.

Everyone else does when he’s not listening. 

You wish you were more like him. 

Karlach: tiefling, red, big, sometimes on fire

From the Gate, served time in Hell

Barbarian: met her over misunderstanding with Wyll. It’s fine now. 

Don’t touch: she burns. 

You’re trying to fix that. 

If you’re badly wounded, she will pick you up afterwards and carry you to a healer. Try not to shocking grasp her as a reflex to the burns: if she’s touching you, it’s because you really need the help. 

You might not notice the burns due to your pain tolerance. Try to pretend you do. It upsets everyone else when you don’t. 

She likes teddy bears. Astarion can help stitch them up if you find any. 

He���ll threaten to make you pay, but he never follows through. 

Do make sure to keep giving him extra sewing supplies you find. 

Halsin: elf, long hair, sturdy 

From: Emerald Grove though you don’t know if he was raised there or not 

Druid: met him breaking him out of prison. 

He can turn into a bear sometimes. It’s neat. 

He can turn into other things besides a bear but the bear is the most notable. 

Makes the strongest tea in the entire camp. When you can’t sleep, ask him to brew some. 

Ignore the double vision, it wears off after fifteen minutes. 

You: if you want to know what you look like, find a reflective surface. If not, ask Astarion, he has a mirror.

From: no idea.

Sorcerer. You don’t know how your magic works but you’re figuring it out. . 

Gale is trying to help but he’s as confused as you are.

You think you’re at least thirty. Best guess is 32 at youngest, 37 at oldest. Don’t ask anyone for their opinion on this except Gale and Wyll. Karlach too, maybe. 

Actually, ask Astarion if you want to try not to laugh and need practice. 

Heads up, you have nasty scars. Prepare yourself before you look. It’s a lot.

The others have seen them given the bathing situation on the road. It was awkward. 

You also get headaches. There’s a scar that runs behind your right ear that doesn’t feel survivable. It’s probably the reason why. Only take healing if you can’t move: otherwise, darkness helps. 

Never let anyone cast aid on you. 

You killed a bard once. She did nothing to you and you woke up covered in her blood with her in pieces. Her name was Alfira and she’s dead because of you. 

You’re not allowed to forget that. 

You have her lute. You’re trying to learn the song she composed for her teacher: someone should remember it. See the dog eared page for notes on it. 

You’re not a good person.

You want to be though.

[too-destiny-panda]

Wyllvember Day 12: Astarion

A/N: Argh, I'm late for this one! I promise I didn't mean to, I was tired and went to sleep without realizing I didn't write my daily share. I promise that Day 13 will come out later today! Credits go to @sagscrib, additionally tagging @commander-yinello

WC: 699

Among the Blade of Frontiers’ many duties to the folk, monster hunting was one the most important ones. After all, monsters came in many forms, whether it be a necrotic bear, a rampant demon, or a regular looking person with a kind smile and sharp eyes. Now, Wyll is the first to admit that despite often being swept up in the moment and not listening to his quarry’s justification, not all monsters are, well, monsters. Sure, they may look cursed, with hooks protruding from their spine or far too many eyes to count, but other than their looks, they could be entirely harmless. Sometimes, if luck is on his side, he was even able to lift whatever magic ailed them. Vampires, however, were a different story.

Despite never having fought one or met one, from his travels he knew that true vampires were rarely, if ever, inclined to feel remorse. True vampires were beings of power, always seeking more, always seeking a way to the sunlight. And they had no consideration for those around them, for the lesser beings. They created spawn to serve them, do their every bidding whether said spawn wanted to or not. They were truly cruel creatures. But, whether it be a vampire spawn or true vampires, they had one thing in common other than needing blood to sustain themselves. The couldn’t walk in the sun.

Which is why when he met Astarion, the thought of him actually being a vampire didn’t even cross the Blade’s mind. He looked like one, with his pale skin and red eyes, but seeing as he walked freely in the sun and wasn’t prancing around biting people in the cover of the night, he figured it was just a happenstance of the gene pool, nothing more, nothing less.

That was until about four days after he had met him when Tav got up slowly, head obviously woozy, and immediately made a bee-line for the rogue, sporting fresh bite marks on their neck. His monster hunter instincts were on high alert, but after a brief conversation between Astarion and their leader, with some interjections, it was established he would only feed on their enemies. Anything more and he would swiftly meet his end.

For the next few days, he watched Astarion, mostly out of habit, but also because of his concerns about his presence. Despite the fact the elf was no longer under the control of his master, they weren’t out of the woods yet. True vampires despised losing practically more than anything, loss a testament to the fact that their power was not absolute and that their continued existence was not guaranteed. Cazador would most certainly send someone, something, after Astarion to bring him back under his control. Of course, the tadpole would prevent him from exercising his psychic hold on him, but he likely wouldn’t care, as long as the former magister didn’t stray far.

Once Wyll got over his apprehension of this new revelation, he didn’t pay much mind to Astarion. Their views of the world clashed at almost every turn, with their fighting styles being possibly the only thing to work together. Of course, despite being practically opposites personality-wise, they weren’t at each other’s throats, mostly just acknowledging each other’s presence, throwing in some light banter while on the road. They weren’t friends, but trusted allies didn’t have to be friends.

After Wyll’s forced transformation, Astarion expressed his sympathies. He knew what it felt like to have his bodily autonomy stripped away in just a moment, without having a say in what happens to you by a greater power. They bonded with each other over this, a quiet understanding forming between them, which only deepened after Raphael offered the vampire a deal.  Thankfully, it wasn’t a binding contract like he had with Mizora and they got a satisfying, though terrifying, answer to Astarion’s questions.

And when they finally got to Baldur’s Gate, both of them readying themselves to confront their pasts, Wyll vowed to at the very least do his best to make sure that his companion didn’t become another Cazador, while Astarion promised himself he would discreetly suck anyone that looked at Wyll wrong dry.

[nicollekidman]

what's up abbey babey!! tell me everything about lyra!! <3

ahhhhhhHHHHHHH okay so there's a lot i love you

BUT... original lyra before she got deleted was a half-noble elf who grew up as a weird little silent girl... she killed her parents when she was young (she doesn't remember why and i haven't decided exactly what happened, it doesn't matter except she did it with her hands and got scarred) and set off on her own just kind of drifting from place to place using her charisma to find places to stay for a while but generally was detached from everyone and everything.... smashcut to bg3 and she's generally Good mostly because she doesn't care either way and helping people is easier, but she becomes worryingly attached to astarion after he drinks her blood the first time... kind of a "i've never felt anything and now i feel it all and it's going to be directed entirely at you" thing so they make the rest of camp EXCEEDINGLY nauseated by their general situation.

like think twin rogues who have a very high kill count from the shadows where the rest of the party can't even see them and they have a silent language they use in battle that starts spilling over into real life and astarion is like absentmindedly feeding on her for comfort purposes during like group night hangouts and she calls him baby and everyone is like stop being GROSS and OFFPUTTING. lyra thinks she's like a worldly wise enlightened figure who can help astarion (and the party) to Be Their Best Selves but really she's just giving advice without being vulnerable in return... but she DOES do a lot of complex things wrt astarion and his Healing and i love her for that. that's private for them <3 lazael and shadowheart are her besties and she basically tells them to get over themselves and just fuck already (they do). wyll can't stand her because she is down with mizora and karlach is like PLEASE PLEASE have some FUN with me and lyra is like. eh. im glad you're having fun but it's too much effort.

so basically she's not fully In The World until she meets the party and then she's in it but in an unhealthy way that is almost singularly focused on astarion, but luckily she does like. in her heart. want good things to happen to them and is a Healer so she stops the ascension etc. having her deleted in the middle of act three is so poetic because she nearly got him his happy ending and was maybe ready to open up and give him parts of her in return but now we'll never know!!!! she's always be the silent woman!!!!!!!

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 34 - Finding a Way

Chapter Summary: Lae'zel receives an unexpected visitor at camp. The adventurers are left stranded in the mountain pass until an alternate route can be found. In the meantime, Church reconnects with his companions - for better or for worse.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 147K+ words; Chapters 34/54

Excerpt below:

“A quiet night,” Astarion says lightly, before lowering his voice into a suggestive purr. “Perfect for two people looking to get some more sparring in before bed…” 

Church sighs, pausing in his sketching and furtively flipping to the next page. “Not tonight, Astarion.”

There is a tense pause as the elf’s mouth falls open slightly, taken aback by the tiefling’s rejection. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Astarion blurts, and he sounds so indignant that Church can’t help but glance up warily at him, catching a surprisingly dismayed expression. 

The tiefling looks around for unwelcome ears as he attempts to articulate. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he insists. “But I’ve been thinking…”

…thinking far too much. Obsessing, really, over his companion much to the detriment of the mission at hand…

“…and I think we should end things, as they currently are,” Church’s voice cracks slightly even as he says it. “I think we should just stay… allies, from here on out.”

His heart burns as he speaks, as does his face as he tries in vain to focus upon his drawing once more. 

The tiefling continues to flush as Astarion gawks at him. Church tries to busy himself with picking up his graphite and adding to an unfinished sketch of the ruins, but his lines shake along with his hands.  

“Well,” Astarion scoffs, his voice lofty. “If that’s what you desire…”

Church almost makes the mistake of relaxing before the rogue leers down at him, pitching his silky voice low. “I don’t suppose you need reminding of what you’ll be missing out on?”

Gods damn it. 

Church grunts in frustration, flinging the book down. 

“It’s not just about me!” he blurts, finally finding the strength to look Astarion in the eyes. 

The elf again looks surprised, even as he continues to lean against the wall. 

“It’s just…” Church can’t help but laugh disparagingly at himself as he speaks aloud what he knows to be true. “I’ve come to realize that you don’t actually enjoy being with me.”

He hates how he sounds — pathetic and defeated.

A broken toy.

Astarion stares down at him in disbelief. 

“You don’t think — how could you possibly think that?” he says incredulously. “Did anything about our last… practice remotely indicate I wasn’t craving you, wanting you…”

Before Church can comprehend what’s happening, Astarion advances quickly towards him. The tiefling tries to sit up tall, looking the elf defiantly in the eye. 

He can barely manage it, especially as Astarion crawls over to him, trailing a hand to trace from his collarbone down along the ridges of his chest. 

“Didn’t I make you feel good?” Astarion murmurs. 

Yes, Church thinks to himself bitterly. But that’s not the point. 

He shudders at the elf’s light and lingering touch. 

“Stop,” he whispers, voice thick. “Of course you did.” 

Astarion smiles, but he complies, drawing his hand back. 

“Then what’s wrong?” he cajoles the tiefling. 

Those piercing red eyes bore into Church’s soul, and he has to look away once again. 

“I don’t know if it’s something I did, but you looked… disgusted with me, afterwards,” he whispers. “You flinched away when I touched you, even though you had been touching me that whole time.

“Astarion, it’s not the first time,” he looks imploringly up at the bewildered elf. “No matter how you make me feel, no matter how much you say you want me, or act like you enjoy it… when you don’t think I can see it, your face tells me otherwise.” 

He falls silent for a moment, waiting for Volo to pass by before continuing. 

“Am I wrong?” Church demands after a moment. 

The elf stares at him, silent and aghast. The mountain wind flutters his silver curls as they face each other. 

He is so beautiful…

…and so far away. 

Church decides to spare him some grief. 

“Listen,” the tiefling sighs. “I never understood why it was me you went after, unless you wanted something. As you are very well-aware, there are others here who would love a chance to be with you.” 

Karlach wasn’t shy about expressing her attraction to their companion. He has seen how Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Halsin look at his — their — companion at times. He has seen Gale and Wyll’s appreciation and envy as well, and Church can’t imagine that they would be jealous of someone for being with him…

The tiefling shrugs defeatedly as he continues, “Surely they have what you’ve been looking for, that I can’t provide — ah—!”

Church yelps as Astarion grabs hold of his shirt, yanking him forward. 

He ogles up at furious, blood red eyes. 

“I don’t want anyone else!” Astarion snarls. 

Church’s bright eyes widen as they search his companion’s desperate expression. He tries in vain to maintain his composure, even with his heart pounding and his face… among other things… flushing at being trapped in the elf’s grasp.

“Prove it,” his mouth utters. 

Read from the beginning

[sserpente]

What does your Baldur's Gate 3 character look like, if you don't mind sharing?

Yes! Absolutely, I would love to share my Tav with you!

Meet Stefania Neverwinter, my half (high) elf Rogue!

There's some spoilers for Act 2 below just in case!

Her subclass is thief. She had quite a rough upbringing not knowing who her parents are and always fighting for herself and surviving by any means necessary. She chose Neverwinter as her last name because that's where she's from and she will selflessly help people she can see herself in (being on the run, trying to survive, stealing to get food in your belly etc.) and be super kind to animals, others she will help not out of heroism but self-preservation and only if in the bigger picture, it serves her as well but she ultimately knows to make the right choices without too much collateral damage. Saving Nightsong? Yes because she'll be useful in the fight against the Absolute. Helping the Tieflings? Yeah, they might be useful allies and I got paid for it. Just yesterday I considered pushing Shadowheart off the cliff because of her blind Shar devotion when she almost killed her, haha!

So she's quite morally ambiguous and helplessly in love with Astarion. She agrees that all that power this ritual would bring him if he managed to go through with it after all the shit that happened to him is very tempting, so... I guess we'll see what happens!

I'm on my first playthrough and I'm about to confront Thorm soon. It's hard to avoid spoilers at this point but I'm proud to say I don't know an awful lot about how Astarion's story will play out yet, so pssst!

[altimysart]

BG3 doodles of my Tavs from twitter!

Rana is a half-elf fighter. She's loves performance and dance! She also ate a tadpole or two just because she was curious. Fell in love with Gale's talent for crafting words and also his romanticism too! She did kiss Wyll once though, and let Lae'zel snack on her twice. Shadowheart is her bestie and Karlach is her drinking buddy, but Astarion is a tough nut to crack...

Curly is my gremlin halfling rogue (repurposed from a discontinued D&D campaign). They look like a child, but they're assuredly an adult. However, they use their appearance to their advantage, posing as a child to deceive and steal from the rich or the rude. They also have a soft spot for children and teens who just are trying to survive. Don't call them short! Curly and Shadowheart got off on the wrong foot, but the same happened with Lae'zel. Curly generally likes the boys, but he thinks Gale should speak more plainly, and Wyll is too much of a bleeding heart. Karlach has an energy they enjoy being around (and wishes they could trade bodies, for they'd like to NOT be touched, would like to be tall). Surprisingly, they are becoming fond of Astarion, despite being attacked twice. I think their mutual agreement has grown into a relationship of trust. No romance for Curly though, they're ace!

[elkenbulwark]

@apalestar cont.

It only made sense he had so many barbs to spare, barbarian that he was. At least with the boar and elken skinned attire as opposed to the sleek look of the elven fighting gear he was used to being strapped into for a day's work of corralling a Cragdew, he at least looked the part. He could blend in with the elves of the high city to only so much of a degree between his hulking frame and his tendency to take a typical sword strike and cross slash against a dueling partner into a vicious battalion of blows. Astarion certainly wouldn't be just leaning about with a look like a leech on his face if Birvor had him as a sparring partner, that was all but certain to the half-orc. Of course he also didn't feel like eating the ground again to the sound of 'gesir' if Ren should happen upon him locked into a spat turned physical in camp once more.

Speaking of chains- "Ev'ryone does far as I'm concerned, and it's not like ya don't have your fun twist'n daggers in and round the subject." He grumbled, not sure why the rogue would even make mention unless of course he was bait and switching him out of thinking on Ren's behalf for the millisecond it would take him to train that dagger he'd pulled on them on the road onto a far too-trusting wizard's neck.

Just hearing the upper city made mention, and from a rat like Astarion no less- invited a particular itch along his arms, and it wasn't from the boar furred bracer now sentenced to the ground between his boots. No, this was the sort of itch that remained even after he'd given his forearms several scratches until the white edges of his splotched skin hummed with a pink heat. "Figures…where there's a high elf, guaranteed there's ones like you skulking about. Roaches, you lot." Though the bite to his words seemed to be of the gumming sort as he gave the rogue a weary squint, wondering it wise to let the other continue or-

The answer was clearly no, and a hells no at that, but Birvor never did have much to do with wisdom nor the capacity to find enough to save himself the trouble. At the so called 'revelation', he found his face warm and incredulous, jaw slightly ajar. He couldn't be serious? "May Cyric bed you behind an open outhouse, you lit'ral rodent-'" The half-orc started, catching himself before his voice grew enough to garner glances from the campfire, and in turn- Ren. Not that he wanted to bring up the two around the sole bloodline of the house, but certainly not such auspicious rumors in tandem.

Giving in to a frustrated furrow of his brows, the look he spared Astarion instead of his fist was equivalent to recognizing the corner he'd backed himself into and the detestation of not being able to do much about it other than huff about it. "Such scathing rumors…let me guess. You know all of this true because you joined in on one? Seems bout like it." It's the lowest jab he could reach for. "Well you can kiss your little hobby on its way now. 'Tween the both of us," He found his gaze darting to check on Ren and confirm he hadn't heard. "-nobody else survived that house."