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twi-liight · 9 months

Note

Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #shadowheart #halsin #halsin is always just there. like. yeah ok guys. whatever

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unluckiestmember · 5 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

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

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

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

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

Astarion Ancunin

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

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

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

Shadowheart

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

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

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

Gale Dekarios

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

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

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

Lae’zel

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

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

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

Wyll Ravengard

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

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

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

Karlach

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

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

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

Halsin

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

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

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

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

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

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drunkenlionwrites · 9 months

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Savium

Warnings: none, g/n reader, just a short something about Astarion's smooches 🖤

At first, Astarion’s kisses are passionate, intense and…clinical. His hands roaming up and down your body, his tongue impatiently caressing yours – all serve a purpose. His body moves with surgical precision, coaxing pathetic sounds out of you, making your body feel as heavy as a lead by the time he places himself above you. There is nothing remotely tender and genuine about them – pure passion at best, but realistically all a ruse. It wasn’t obvious at first, but each subsequent kiss proves your gut feeling to be correct. When he senses your hesitation, his touch becomes more persistent, yet there is no variance in his movements, and you wonder if the consummate lover of yours knows how to stop performing. Or if he even wants to.

Then his kisses grow wary. Hesitant. Timid. Feather-Light. Clumsy. They feel like kisses of young love. Unpracticed, nervous. Tender. You can’t help yourself but zealously indulge in him, eagerly leading the shared moments those times. Each kiss is breathy, each tender caress leaves him trembling and gasping. He’s not leading now – he is all acceptance. He purrs into you one second and twitches away the next one. Yet his affections somehow linger inside you now. His unexpressed feelings linger between you.

The man is a menace. The kiss he gives you before the battle knocks out all the air out of your lungs – it’s desperate, longing and doesn’t in the least lack sincerity now. His lips the contrast of cool and soft. His embrace – anything short of calculated or clinical. Seeing the streams of tears on your cheeks prompts him to change it into a loud and absurd smooch accompanied by loud theatrical “Mwah”s to coax the nervous relieved giggles out of you. He still cannot stop performing, since what you see in his eyes is a crystal-clear reflection of your own worries and fears, yet he is still putting the most radiant smile on his face he can muster. And for once you’re grateful for it, feeling your lips slightly tugging up when you face him again.

#astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion headcanons #astarion fluff #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x you #lion writes

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madwomansapologist · 5 months

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blossoming alone over you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

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

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

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

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

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

But not you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you had to show him how wrong he was.

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

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

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

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

Maybe one day he can become a poet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You barely heard his words.

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

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

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

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

You gave him something priceless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're kind.

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

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

But you make Shadowheart forget about all that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gasped. "Moon, why is that?"

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

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

"I thought it could be useful!"

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

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

Part 2!

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

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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hrefna-the-raven · 8 months

Text

Baldur's Gate 3 masterlist

For main masterlist click here

Enjoy and feel free to share :)

Raphael x reader

Series

A little series about the weird relationship between Raphael and you, my dear reader

Part 1: I can handle myself, Raphael

Part 2: The devil you (suddenly) don't know

Part 3: Cat and Mouse

Part 4: The devil you do (18+)

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

It shocked you to see the usually eloquent and reserved devil in such a state, you would almost think that he's...."Is he...drunk?", you asked....

Part 1: Drunken minds speak sober hearts

Part 2: Hope in hell (18+)

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

Drabble series:

Reader is a warlock and her patron is none other than Raphael

Part 1 - The beach

Part 2 - Go to hell

Oneshots / drabbles

Raphael

In the dark of the night (18+)

Wounded

Simril

Never anger a devil

Continuation of cheeky-little-pup's fantastic oneshot (18+)

My kind is not the hugging type

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

Zevlor

Hope is a waking dream (18+)

Not just a chapter

Haarlep x reader

Imagine....not being able to stop thinking about your encounter with Haarlep....

Screenshots 1 (Raphael)

Screenshots 2 (Raphael - human form)

Screenshots 3 (Haarlep)

Kar'niss x reader

Web of faith

Prior being trapped under the spell of the Absolute, Kar'niss was just a normal drow, trying to survive the daily threats that the city of Menzoberranzan held. He thought himself lost until you found him, showing him that there is a beauty to life he thought impossible.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 (18+)

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (18+)

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 - drow ending

Chapter 7 - drider ending

I want to thank you (18+)

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ransprang · 3 months

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thank you @tolkien-fantasy we hope you like your match ups <3

if anyone else wants a personalized fic this is our ko-fi

your bg3 match up is....

HALSIN!!!

SFW

How you met: Halsin was taking a walk through his neighbourhood when your gorgeous garden caught his eye. He was entranced. Never had he seen nature’s bounty bless a land so thoroughly. You caught the man looming over a lovely flower bush. You debated calling the police but settled on walking over to him and cheerfully greeting him good morning. Halsin smiled warmly, and began complimenting your garden. You were happy to share a few techniques with him and invited him inside for tea. He was charmed by your love for nature and wisdom, and started showing up more and more often to chat with you with the excuse of admiring your garden.

In terms of gifts, Halsin would never buy you flowers, only seeds so you could plant them. He would often get you books that he thought you would like or reminded him of you.

Since you are 4”10 Halsin would often accidentally almost step on you. He would be very apologetic about it though. Thanks to his size you would also end up calling him over to reach the top shelves in your house or the grocery store. Sometimes instead of getting you the item himself, he would just pick you up so that you could reach it yourself.

Both of you being incredibly wise, would never have fights as a couple. All your couples friends would come to you for advice.

Halsin is the type of person to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the world around him (including you <3). Your dates would involve long walks in parks and cute picnics. He would make you delicious sandwiches and other baked goods, though they would all probably be vegan.

Halsin respects your work as a death doula since over his 400 year lifespan he has come to appreciate the circle of life. He is always there to offer you support and be a calming presence when things get a little too overwhelming.

Halsin is Oak Daddy and he would often end up somehow unofficially adopting some children who would follow him around. He loves watching you interact with the kids, watching them be put to ease by your bubbly, cheerful and friendly personality the same way he was.

Halsin will never make fun of you or tease you since you don’t like that. Besides, he prefers cracking dad jokes.

He likes engaging in different parts of nature with you. Exploring the lands of Faerun, and trying different activities to interact with the nature. If y’all ever go fishing he’s gonna make this stupid joke: “What do librarians take fishing? Bookworms.”

He’d be very gentle and caring when it comes to your chronic illnesses. Halsin being a powerul and wise druid would know some possible cures or spells to alleviate the pain. He also has a wide network which he’d use for this cause.

NSFW

Halsin is very gentle and uses his years of wisdom and experience to find new sex positions to accommodate your physical illnesses.

Everytime you go off on tangents about things you have learned from books, Halsin gets horny, he can’t help it. Of course he admires your intelligence, but he also can’t stop imagining how it’d feel to pull his cock out and stuff your mouth with it.

Because of the height difference, Halsin does have a bit of a size kink. He likes overshadowing your smaller frame with his large body. He’d also love to try standing positions like you giving him a blowie while standing.

Your physical affections are very much encouraged by Halsin. He loves the feel of your arms and lips on his body. Often his mind is filled with innocent love, some other times his mind wanders and he presses your body back against a wall and grabs your ass.

Halsin has intense animal urges, he growls and grunts. Grits his teeth, as he would hold you by the back of your neck tightly and look into your eyes. His desperation visible as his cock would throb to be released against his pants.

Halsin likes to overstimulate you, he loves to pump you till you are scratching his back or pulling on his hair. “By Oak Father's blessings, you are beautiful like this. Cum for me,” he would say, while he watches you squirm.

He enjoys slow sex too, he would ask to make love to you. He would fuck you side ways so he can kiss you while cuddling and holding you in his arms.

Halsin picks you up over his shoulder as he would smack your ass cheek and kiss your hips. He would carry you to the bedroom and lay you down gently before playing with your clit while kissing you deeply. You can heel his muscles, and pecks move up and down against your body as his breathing gets heavy.

Sometimes he would like to watch you get undressed or touch yourself as he rubs his cock and strokes it up and down. He will ask you to clean his precum off his red tip before continuing masturbating for you.

Halsin would cook for you after sex, something to get you feeling less tired and energetic again. He would also like to feed you playfully by keeping food on his muscles or taking a bite by keeping small foods on your breasts and licking them off.

your beach waves,

admins sar, sav & san

#Halsin x reader #Halsin x tav #Halsin bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #Halsin smut #x reader #Halsin x you #bg3 fanfic #halsin silverbough #Halsin fanfic #bg3 #bg3 Halsin #halsin bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader

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multi-fandom-imagine · 6 months

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Day 33: “Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!”

Fandom:Baldur's Gate 3

Character: Wyll Ravengard

Naughty or Nice.

A/n: I will fully believe that Wyll would be an amazing father.

Wyll kicked off the snow from his boots, after a long night of work the man was just eager to get home to you, eager to get home to his children. Hearing the giggle's a smile formed on his lips as he called out for you though as he grew closer his gaze softened for a moment seeing you, along with the twins surrounding the tree. Small hand's doing their best to put the decoration's on the branches.

“Did you decorate the tree without me? I can’t believe this!” His tone was nothing but playful, his hand's on their hips as the twins quickly turned then rushed to him.

"Papa!"

Easily catching his children, he placed a kiss to their heads smiling. "You both done a wonderful job." Turning his gaze to you he then held out his hand for you to take. "Hello my love, I do hope you are not to upset that I am a little late."

Shaking your head, you stepped towards Wyll placing a soft kiss to the side of his head. "As long as you are here everything is perfect....now...who want's to make come cookies."

Grinning, Wyll watched as the twins shouted. He in return giving out a small wink. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

#drabbles #drabble #tis the season #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #baldurs gate wyll #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll x you #wyll ravengard x reader #wyll ravengard x tav #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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theoldkyokodied · 9 months

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Really quick doodles of a few scenes from the stream yesterday. Including combat flirting taunting, gale’s magnificently distracting shoes and.. whatever you wanna call gale agreeing to give 15 gold to astarion 😐😑😐😑😐 (that’s me blinking)

#bloodweave #astarion x gale #gale x astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #they are so funny god help. thank you to whoever sat Neil next to Tim #my roommate turning to look directly at me whenever they were interacting lik bestie please stop I am trying to be normal. don’t look at me #my roommate also said Neil acting low-key obsessed with gale and I could only say wow he’s just like me fr fr.#if I didn’t still struggle with getting shadowhearts likeness you would get a drawing of her hugging bing bong too but alas …#anyway the stream was so fun #can’t wait til tomorrow hehe

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twi-liight · 9 months

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Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!”

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks.

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.”

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.”

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate.

“Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm.

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!”

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words.

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips.

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?”

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.”

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds, “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.”

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.”

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?”

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.”

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something.

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?”

Yes. They all nod their heads.

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.”

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.”

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.”

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind.

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting.

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined.

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.”

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone.

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke.

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.”

Excellent.

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!”

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.”

“Karlach!”

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.”

“Gale?!”

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!”

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3