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#yandere bg3
donat-senpai · 7 months
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Druids are the most cunning in the camp. They often turn into animals. You can't resist cuddling their cute little faces. They get nose kisses and ear scratches. Sometimes you let them sleep next to you. Everyone else in the camp looks with envy at the arrogant predators who are constantly taking you away.
(Gale will not give up until he has turned over all the libraries of the world in search of a potion or spell that turns a person into an animal. Perhaps he will forget to find a way to get back in advance. But as long as you scratch his cat ears, he won't complain )
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yandere-sins · 7 months
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Today, I was thinking about Kar'niss the drider, who—mad and confused—stumbles over a nearly dead darling in the Shadowlands.
You're already as good as gone, life sapped out of you mercilessly by the shadows gnawing at you. They burn your skin and dig into your very soul while strangling you slowly, agonizingly to death, trying to take over your body and make you into one of the lifeless puppets wandering around unprotected. It's your own fault for getting into this mess, yet you prayed and wished for nothing more than to be released from the torture.
Perhaps that's why it's so surprising when instead of eternal, restless death, your body is enveloped in a gentle light, bright and freeing you of the shadows that quickly retreat. You gasp and wheeze as you jolt back to life, coughing and contorting until you finally get your own mind back.
It hurts to look, yet you cannot help but stare into the blinding light, trying to determine where it's coming from. Only now can you make out faint noises coming from it, the shadows having wrecked your hearing badly enough so that you didn't notice it before. Metal clanking and a voice. It almost makes you believe in a god again, as you mistake the light to be talking to you.
Imagine the shock, the ice-cold shiver that runs through you when your eyes finally adjust. When the real monster behind the voice comes into the light, mumbling and yelling nonsensical phrases about 'feeding the shadows' and 'her majesty's will'. Half of its body resembles a man, the other half is spider through and through. His skin seems more leathery and armored, and his fingertips are contorted into claws. What you thought were dark jewels adorning his face turn out to be eyes, and you choke on a scream as they blink, their focus suddenly shifts entirely on you.
"Who are you? What are you doing, feeding the shadows?! It's not right, it's not...! Ah, yes, your majesty! Your light guides us, protects us. We are eternally grateful!"
As if almost dying and being rescued by a drider isn't bad enough, madness seems to be dripping off of him the moment he notices you through his hazy mind. You can tell that there is no reasoning with your savior, no last bit of sanity to appeal to, your instincts tell you. He leans down, and you cower, trying to get away. But the moment you leave the lantern's glow, you feel the shadows reaching for you again. You have no idea what's going on as the drider makes another step forward, the light enveloping you again, but you start to listen to his rambles, the way he calls out to some queen, reverently so.
And your blood runs cold when, in his mumbles, you hear him call you a gift.
"My queen, are you giving them to me? Is this my reward? I will not complain about this most generous gift, majesty!"
Your arm is caught by him quicker than you can get away, though his grip only tightens when you struggle, his skin feeling wrong against yours. Appalling. But when you stop thrashing like a fly caught in a spiderweb, he gently pulls you to a stand, waiting for you to regain your strength before he starts walking, tugging you with him. The shadows want to reach for you, pull you back, and you fearfully step closer to the drider, making him chuckle.
There's nothing you can do, his grip on you firm and the shadows being the only alternative to walking with him. He keeps blubbering and laughing about his thoughts, conversing with someone you can't see but who he seems to revere. But at the same time, you feel at least one pair of eyes fixating on you in every moment of your journey, even if you don't know which one is looking. Everything about him is freaking you out, but when you reach a massive building with people walking around, you can't help but feel thankful to the drider for bringing you back to civilization.
That is, until someone tries to talk to you. He does not like that.
Letting go of your arm, he snatches you by your waist instead, your feet dangling above the ground while you feel the air being forced out of your lungs from the pressure he puts you against his chest with. It's all so unnatural, and you can't help but struggle in fear when, suddenly, his bellowing voice makes you freeze.
"NO! This is my gift! Our Queen has gifted them to me! They are not for you to take! You are not worthy!"
And just like that, after baring his fangs and driving away the people you thought were going to help you, his anger disappears almost immediately as he cradles you, cooing much softer words in your direction than to the others. "It's alright, sweet gift. They'll not take you from me. We'll be together, as has our Queen decided."
With that, you feel like your body is flying through the air, clutched against him, as his many legs are swiftly put into motion. When you force yourself to look over his shoulder, you are already far up in the air, watching the ground distance itself more and more. All you can do is cling onto him in fear of falling to your death, and he breathes you in deeply before you two reach the top, his lips contorted into a smile when you finally meet his eyes again.
"Mine, all mine. My sweet little gift."
NSFW-ish below
I'd like to think he has taken one of the free towers that are more or less empty and spun a pretty web for his darling inside. Kar'niss takes care of you, rarely letting you outside (only if you convinced him over the span of days that you'd so like to take a stroll with him) because he really doesn't want anyone else to see, touch, or talk to what is his, even when he needs to go and guide souls to the tower. You will probably go as insane as he is, listening to his rambling and trying to appease him when you accidentally say something to send him into a fit of rage.
There are so many ways to punish you, too. Simply leaving you in the darkness after your almost death reverts you into a crying, sobbing mess that Kar'niss will love to soothe you, dedicating himself to cuddling and cradling you in his arms and lolling around in the web with you while he tells you he and the grace of her majesty are always with you. 
He's also just painful to be around, especially when he's so irrational, and you cannot move out of the way of his fangs, claws, and legs. Everything about him feels strange, giving you no comfort, but he can hurt you so easily it makes you paranoid. When you ask him to, or he's currently obsessing over you, his touch can be gentle, and Kar'niss has proven his soft caresses to you many times. But if a leg or his hands accidentally swipes you, you bleed. It's just how things are. 
Also, suppose you displease him by speaking against his queen or setting him off by denying him the pleasure of being with you. In that case, he'll just stop caring for you, sitting outside the tower where he keeps you, and sulks. (The Absolute is probably telling him to go back, so he's also bickering a bit with her. Kind of an impressive achievement on your side.) He listens to you and waits until you start begging and pleading for him (or anyone) to come back and help you, to not leave you there to rot like this. Yet, Kar'niss makes you suffer for a while longer to punish you while ensuring no one comes near you. 
But it does excite him when he goes back, and you cry and call to him and apologize for what you did, swearing you won't do it again. Excites him a lot. You do love him too, don't you? Of course you do... his queen would not have given you to him if that wasn't the case. You are meant for each other, after all. So he can forgive you this time.
Once he realizes you're in need of a parasite, he'll probably start connecting his disturbed mind with yours, giving you severe brain damage as you are flooded with his thoughts. But it'll finally give him the chance to show you exactly what he wants. Force you to believe in the Absolute like him by torturing you with his devotion and admiration until you break. Now, you'll finally understand your purpose as his mate, too. Accept him. Share his love for you and his majesty.
And since he has a new deity talking to him that isn't Lolth, who knows he cannot have children, Kar'niss might be convinced that he's supposed to make babies for the Absolute. He can't, technically (and maybe you can't either), but that doesn't stop him from talking about how he'll give his majesty new worshippers and how the two of you will be so worthy of her and have Absolute-babies. Kar'niss gets so excited at the idea of you being full and round from his offspring he almost drools, unable to wait any longer once the seed has been planted in his shattered mind.
So all you can do is ask him nicely to prepare you, to make sure he doesn't rip something or is gentle with those sharp claws and teeth no matter how eager he is. Just imagine how happy he'd be when you tell him that you could possibly be pregnant after all the orgasms he gave you—a lie, but you just really need him to stop. He'll be enraged if he finds out that you are not, but hey, he can always try again. And maybe someone will come to help him with his plan. Maybe Araj Oblodra could be convinced to offer a child or spider eggs to quench the Drider's baby frenzy, or the Absolute will give him a child like she gave him a darling.
Either way, until he dies, you're not getting out of this. And even then, someone would have to find you first and rescue you.
If they don't deem you too far gone already.
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kiame-sama · 9 months
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Warnings; yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, possessive behavior, somnophilia flavored, dirty talk, objectification, obsessed yandere, slight corruption kink, small spoilers for Astarion's worst kept secret, blood, biting kink, mention of Astarion's past, gender neutral reader, neutral good reader (folk-hero type), opposites attract, spoilers for game opening, slight spoilers for possible non-combatant followers, owl-bear cub named Hootsie (if you know what this name is from, I like your taste in media), adult themes, mention of nsfw topics,
~~~~~~~~
How could this have happened to him? Of all people, Astarion was no chivalrous rube unlike the odd being he found himself following the command of. Truly, he didn't understand just how he wound up a follower to someone who put others before themselves. The damned tadpole in his brain being the only reason he would stand to be near someone so annoyingly virtuous... or so he tells himself.
Truth was, though he didn't like the mundane and menial tasks he found himself doing for the betterment of others, he did actually like the goody-two-shoes he followed the lead of. They were... hells, how to describe them?
Almost every choice was made to help someone against unfair treatment or wrongful accusations. Each decision was weighed carefully on the moral scale and done with well-being in mind in almost every way. They were one of those folk-hero types who stood up for the little guy and extended help to those in honest need.
They were infuriating and annoyingly righteous. ...They were enchanting.
Astarion found himself practically crooning over them, especially during fights. Someone able to so ruthlessly kill and command others was truly an impressive character. From the strategy and careful thinking to the quick and merciless endings, Astarion barely kept himself from swooning.
Even beyond the battlefield, he noticed little things they did that made him practically melt. Those small habits and unconscious behaviors that they had making him smile ever so slightly whenever he noticed them. He wasn't staring or obsessing, mind you, just... observing.
What truly surprised him was what happened when he decided to push his luck and try to feed on them and their delectable blood. Despite how quietly he had approached them, they woke up right as he was going to sink his fangs into their neck. Even though he knew he was likely about to be slain, he still tried to stand up for himself and justify his actions. Much to his surprise and genuine delight, the defacto leader did not stake him in the heart, choosing instead to speak with that same calm timbre and hear him out.
It was then they did something he swore would have made his heart flutter if it still had a beat. They told him that he was welcome to feed on their blood- within reason- and asked him to feed from them whenever he felt the thirst coming on too strongly. It was a kindness he had never expected from someone, and he agreed that feeding on (y/n) was better than trying to feed on any of the other companions they traveled with.
Since then, Astarion would feed on animals or enemies mostly, but always kept enough room in his stomach to feed on (y/n) at night. Something about their blood made him shiver in delight and the taste drove him to crave more and more. It was as if his dear (y/n)'s blood called to him and crooned sweet nothings into his mind.
He would never take more than offered, of course, but there were evenings where he was quite tempted to take more. Not more blood, but more of (y/n).
Sex was a good way to burn off steam and was good enough with almost anyone, but the thought of passionate sex with (y/n)... oh, it was simply delicious. He had propositioned once or twice, but the subtlety in how he asked seemed to make the true meaning of his words go right past them. They either didn't reciprocate or truly did not understand the delicate way he approached the matter and so thought he was talking about something else. He knew he would have to be more straightforward with them in the future about his desire for their blood and body, but for now he would satisfy himself however he could.
It was late in the evening and the others were fast asleep as he approached his beloved on silent feet. Their faithful dog- Scratch- and the aptly named owl-bear cub Hootsie were snoozing back to back on the other side of the camp, so they shouldn't interrupt him.
As Astarion leaned over the kindly ally, he couldn't help but reach up to slowly trail his fingers over their soft cheek. They looked absolutely scrumptious laying there with an unbothered expression, their breathing soft and quiet. Though he was thirsty and quite ready for a drink, he held himself back in favor of marveling over his precious little hero.
To think, some morally-righteous nobody had entangled his unbeating heart and enamored him so much he even considered charity. Charity for Hells sakes!
A soft whine escapes their lips as he slowly turned their head to the side, feeling a sense of pride when he saw the two puncture marks on the side of their neck where he fed from them regularly. Their blood was so pure and sweet, he could barely get by with the few tastes he would take every evening. Perhaps he had their heroic tendencies to thank for the extremely pure blood that he enjoyed feasting on.
He found himself so protective of their blood that any time they got hurt in battle, he could feel the rage pull at his mind and begin to consume him. As far as Astarion was concerned, all of (Y/n)'s blood belonged to him. Even one drop wasted was a drop he could have had, and the thought of their blood being so casually wasted like that... it set a fury in him.
Of course, after the battle he always offered to lick their wounds, but they seemed to think he was joking and laughed it off. What he wouldn't give to have them say 'yes' to his proposition and simply let him love on their wounds while going down on them.
Even at that moment, the warm scent of their body made bliss run through him as he decided to risk getting caught. He slowly moved their clothing so he could marvel at the exposed flesh of their stomach. With a light touch, he made sure to gently drag his tongue over their front, groaning to himself in response to their appetizing taste. All he wanted was to ravage them as they lay there and take it from him, but he still had plenty of self restraint.
"What I wouldn't give to cover you up in bites, Darling."
Astarion decided to stop pushing his luck when his thirst tugged at his self-control impatiently. He could always go back to helping himself after he got a drink from his favorite source.
Even though he had bitten them countless times over, he still felt a certain chill run through him at being able to sink his fangs in once more. The warm splash of blood against his tongue made an almost pathetic whimper escape his throat, greedily drinking down the flavorful ambrosia. All too soon, he had to pull away and staunch his desire for more until the next time he got to feed on his beloved.
"Don't worry, Dearest. I will make damn sure you can never get away from me no matter what. Then we can embrace as long as we wish. I'll rip the others to shreds for you, love. You'll never get to leave me."
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yanderelovlies · 2 months
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Note: I know in my heart of hearts Halsin wouldn't be a Yandere, but like 😳😳
Warning: Slight NSFW and yandere tendencies
Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3
Character: Halsin
Pairing: Halsin x gn!reader
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At camp, he would watch you interact with all the companions. He never said anything, but there were few he didn't like around you, afraid they would corrupt you. When you weren't in eyesight, he hoped thoughts of you would subside, but they never did. If anything, he thought of you more, especially when he is alobe in his tent at night stroking his cock to said thoughts of you.
When you had saved him from the goblins, helped the Grove, and helped him bring the shadow curse to an end. Halsin knew you were good. He would even go as far as to say you were too good for this world. The light and warmth you brought to the world was something deemed that needed to be protected at all costs. So he joined your cause, throwing himself in any danger to protect you. To make sure some absolute cultists or Gith didn't take you.
While traveling, he always sizes up who you're talking to for both intentions and weakness. He immediately steps in if he doesn't like where the conversation is going or the intentions of the person. He has to use all his strength not to butt in or lung when talking with Orin and Gortash. He loaths the emperor even more.
These protective and obsessive behaviors were new to Halsin. He always believed himself to be like his bear counterpart. Never mating for life, always roaming, and yet... When he sits at the campfire watching you play with the owlbear cub and the dog Scratch under the stars he can't help but want to keep you for himself.....away from anyone who wants to taint the pure goodness in you.
Eventually, his actions began to mirror his thoughts as he began to occupy all of your attention in and out of camp. He would even get the help of the Owl bear cub, scratch, and some local critters from wyrmscrossing and Baldur's Gate.
Shadowheart wants to share a bottle of wine with you? Not anymore, the Owl bear knocked it out of your hand, trying to get you to play with him, which he was successful with. Astarion wanting a little late night nibble from your beautiful neck? Not any more if scratch has something to say about it. Gale, trying to talk to you? Oh well, he was till a rat climbed up his trousers.
Anytime you tried to spend with any other companion was redirected most times in Halsin's direction. If not his, then Owl bear and Scratch. They are the only ones Halsin trusts. The other companions take notice but are unable to approach you to question or point out. They can barely get a word in during a fight.
Eventually, Halsin tells you his more domestic feelings. "You are all my heart wants. All it desires. Please tell me you feel the same." Anxiety rolls off of him as he waits for your response. What will he do if you reject him. He, of course, will respect your choice, but...He can't let you go....can he? The longer he waits, the longer his thoughts spiral down a dark path he was never treaded before.
When you accept his face lights with joy. His dark thoughts long forgotten. All he can think about is kissing you. So much so that he forgets to ask before pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. It was better than he ever imagined. He was becoming addicted.
Halsin had to pull away before he lost all control and devoured you on the spot. "It's makes me so happy to hear you feel the same my heart..." His large callous hand holds your soft face as he rests his forehead against yours. It was at this moment that he swore to Silvanus that after the defeat of the Absolute, he was going to take you away. Away from those who wish to take advantage of your kindness. Away from a world full of cruel beings. Away to were he can cherish and love you without fear.
You will be safe and tucked away like all of Silvanus's special gifts.
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dilfartist · 2 months
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Yandere Librarian Gale Dekarios
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TW: Blackmail, stalking, dark themes, yandere themes, mentions of objectification, Gale is kind of a creep, Gale has a small shrine of you, heavy topics, possessiveness.
Reader description; Female/GN
Not proofread/proofread
After a while, life as a professor had begun to bore Gale. Magic is a passion of his and will never not be, but Gale yearned for more. As much as Gale enjoyed the little flashbacks of his childhood from how many accidental fires and ruined rooms at the university occurred; they were beginning to become too much. Gale found solace in silence. Back then, when Gale locked himself in his tower with every second of his life near the end, he enjoyed the stillness of his room, book in hand. So when the local library in Waterdeep required a new librarian on the weekends, Gale immediately decided to fill the role.
Gale had worked there for at least three months to test the waters and see how he felt about the job and his schedule. In that short period, he felt confident and decided to keep his job as a librarian.
Gale memorized each customer's face. Riley, the drow with white hair and pink tips at the ends, enjoyed books on nature, and her cat recently had kittens. Aoth, a human fighter part of the flaming fist, only checked out books on the history of Baldur's Gate training since he was still being trained and wanted to do his job right. Then there was Emily, the dwarf who only had time to visit the library on Tuesdays and didn’t stick around to chat with Gale. Then there was you. You were new around here, not only in the library but Waterdeep in general. Gale had seen you searching the shelves a few times but never had the pleasure of speaking with you. You didn't check out anything anyway. You merely looked through the books and then took your leave.
On one particular day, you decide to check out a book. You sauntered over to the main desk where Gale organized the recently returned books. Gale noticed you and smiled. You greeted each other then Gale took the novel you wanted to check out.
“Ah, I’ve read this a couple of times myself. Never gets old.”
You nod in agreement with a smile. Something about you seemed off. You looked on edge, your eyes avoiding Gales and you being awkward. You left after Gale stamped the first page of your book, informing you that it would need to be returned in two weeks.
You started taking home books more often after the encounter, becoming less awkward with the wizard with each interaction. Until one visit, you gained the courage to ask, “You’re Gale Dekarios, aren’t you?” Gale smiles and nods, “I suppose you’ve heard the tale of how I saved Baulder’s gate or my, uh, former condition.” You nod, “I’ve heard many stories of your amazing abilities or just stories of you in general.” Saying Gale was flattered was a bit of an understatement. From there on you and Gale started to chat. The conversation lasted so long that you had to step to the side for irritated customers to check their books out.
You became a favorite customer of Gale’s, possibly the number one. You came by the library more often, always starting a conversation with Gale that would last a bit too long. Not that Gale minded. Gale enjoyed your presence. Most customers would indulge in small talk for a little while and then awkwardly step away after too long, but you stayed and made great conversation.
Gale found himself feeling the same feeling he had with Mystra, the sick puppy love that caused him to be at her every command. The same love that nearly caused him to blow himself to pieces to have her favor again. However, there was something different. While, yes, Gale’s thoughts when with Mystra were mostly of her, his thoughts were consumed by you. Gale thought of it a bit strange but passed it off as possibly meeting his missing part.
Gale’s obsession deepened when you began when you became distant. Your visits to the library have begun to decline in the usual amount. Gale grew worried but told himself you were simply busy with life. When you finally visited the library to drop off a novel you’d been reading, Gale asked about your whereabouts. You grinned and told Gale of the new guy you’ve been going out with recently. Gale could swear his heart dropped down to the pit of his stomach. His smile faltered, and his skin drained of all color, leaving him pale. Gale played it off somehow, and you left vowing to visit your favorite friend more often. Gale felt so hurt. Even angry. Of course not at you, he felt angered by the man courting you. Besides you probably were being polite- that’s just how you are! If Gale gained the confidence to finally court you, you’d say yes out of politeness, and after a while, he’d show you why you ought to choose him as your eternal lover.
Though Gale isn’t proud of this, he has stalked you and your...lover- or could you even call the man that?! The man is too touchy for Gale's liking. He hates to suggest anything improper but the man’s eyes don’t linger on your face much, more on your body. Gale isn’t like that. He adores every part of you, body and soul.
Gale has impulses sometimes. He wants desperately to sneak off with a thing of yours. Of course, he is horrified by these thoughts. No gentleman acts this way to a lady. Despite the urge to walk over and grab the hair tie that dropped from your wrist and pocket it for himself, maybe even use it on himself to tie his hair. That hasn't stopped him from sneaking away with a quill that fell from your bag that he uses constantly.
When you and your...”lover” decide to date, Gale is more than upset. Gale puts a plan into action to separate you too. Sends a few letters to you in your lover's handwriting calling you names. However, it isn’t random insults but rather insults he’s heard from your lover himself said behind your back. When you confront him about the letters, your lover is only baffled you know what he had said, so he thinks twice before responding, which only makes him look worse.
If that isn’t enough, Gale has other ways. Gale sends notes to his subordinates with blackmail on him and some dirty lies. The ruined reputation causes your lover stress. The stress develops into a short fuse that later causes many fights between the two of you. In the end, you couldn't handle all of the negativity and decided to break off the relationship.
You return to the library with your head hanging low. You attempt to greet Gale without your sorrows peeking through. However, Gale was very observant. He gently asks what’s worrying you. Gale is so comforting with his presence, words, and all. You explain your situation to him, to which he listens attentively.
“Don’t worry, (Name). There are many men out there waiting to be there for you. Keep looking, sometimes true love is in plain sight.”
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
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Is romantic request OK for bg3? If its is:
When does the companion realise they love Reader ?
Like, what does reader do that make them say to themself "Ah. I love them" ?
So a while a go I talked about the order in which the characters would fall in love with reader, so that is what I'm basing this off of. I really wanted to actually write something so I hope you enjoy it.
Don't judge how I describe magic, okay? it's confusing.
masterlist
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Gale:
Gale is a romantic at heart, reading romance books, imagining a idyllic life with a lover. When he was younger, he believed his lover would be Mystra, living with the goddess that he dedicated his life to. But now, he finds his wishes to be more complicated. Now you're here, and he finds himself imagining what life would look like if you never leave.
"Gale, what does this one do?" You point to one of his many scrolls.
"It's a simple illumination spell" He responded. "There are much more interesting spells in this pile over here." He pointed to another pile of scrolls, this one inside his tent. You look apprehensive, like you don't want to invade him space. Your care, your kindness, was something new to him. "Go on, take a look, I don't mind." He smiled, watching as you entered his tent and dig through his scrolls, taking great care to not damage them as you explore them.
Your eyes sparkled as you read through each spell, asking question after question about each one. It was times like this that reminded him you were not of this world, so fascinated by things that were so common to others. Every gasp of interest filled his heart with pride, made his mind run with a strange sense of affection. Affection he never felt for another, not even Mystra.
"Wow Gale, these are all so amazing!" As you speak, he's broken out of his thoughts, and he realizes that he is completely and utterly in love with you. Maybe it's a little vain or maybe he's been reading too much, but he craves to hear you praise him more. He wants to hear the sweat sound of your approval be directed towards him, for it to never end.
For once, love and fear don't mix for Gale. He doesn't fear falling in love with you or wanting to devote himself to you. His mind drifts back to Mystra, and he knows it's different. His isn't a boy, someone who can easily be manipulated. He's a man, and he knows what he wants.
And he knows he wants you.
Wyll:
Wyll is valiant, heroic, the exact image of a gentleman. He dedicates his life to protecting the weak, and with you there is no difference.
He doesn't want to call you weak, he knows your inexperience comes from something deeper, but he can't help but pity you whenever your situation. Their fearsome leader, someone from another world, scared and confused, but brave nonetheless. It's admirable honesty, but somedays the world is too cruel, and it agonizing watching you traverse a world that has no care for you.
Like now, as enemies swarm your group, snarling and growling in your direction. You look terrified, but you're hiding it well. But as one of the creatures lunges for your throat, he waits no longer before piercing it through its gut. It twitches and growls before collapsing to the ground. You do similarly, moving towards Wyll and rushing towards his arms. He holds you, feeling your heart beat wildly against him. Your other companions deal with the looting as you quickly compose yourself.
"I'm sorry." You stumble out. "I-i just--"
"No need to apologize." Protectiveness swelled in his chest as he tried so hard to ignore the warmth he once felt when he held you. It was so different than anything else he's felt before. It was comforting, addicting even. He craved it more and more as you backed away from him. He could tell you were disturbed, you've never seen him like this before, but his protectiveness overruled any sense of composure he once had.
"Thank you for protecting me Wyll." You whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In an instant, it was like a weight was lifted from his chest, and he could breathe again. You were safe, he has kept you safe. The warmth, it was spreading through him once more, inviting and so very captivating, just like yourself.
In that moment, Wyll sweared to keep you safe, to protect the warmth that he's come to enjoy. He swears to become your protector, no matter how strong you become, you'll always be his top priority, his captivating love.
Halsin
Your dedication to helping this land is something Halsin finds fascinating. It seems second nature to you, never questioning when someone needs help. It honestly worries Halsin, how easy you can be manipulated by others. Halsin finds himself being worried by you often, like now, as he tends to a gash on your arm, a large wound oozing blood onto the floor of his tent. There is only so much Halsin's healing can do, the bandages on your arm becoming a lass resort from any more serious injuries.
"You must be more careful." He warns you, taking great care to wrap your arm gently, not wanting to inflict more pain onto you. "I do not like seeing you in pain." You seem surprised by his declaration, your eyes widening a fraction. He almost revels in your shock, if it weren't for his concern over your injury.
"You don't have to worry about me." You say once he's finished wrapping your arm. "I am your leader." That was another thing Halsin found fascinating, your bravery. Your sheer determination even while everything else was against you. But he also found it terrifying, seeing you get hurt or put yourself in danger nearly sent his heart into an attack, he just wished you would listen to him.
But he guesses that's what makes you so lovable, your kindness, your bravery, your stubbornness. He wouldn't have you any other way, even if you do fill him with dread from time to time. "Please just--be more careful, for me." He requests, gazing at your wound. Blood has seeped through the cloth already.
You smile "I'll try." Your tone had a light air to it, and Halsin couldn't help but smile.
You were going to be the death of him.
Shadowheart
Shadowheart never understood her peers, but truthfully, her peers never understood her.
She watches with a small scowl as you converse with Wyll, a bright smile on both of your faces, but yours is somehow the only one she can focus on. It angers her--maybe angers isn't the right word, it confuses her. She doesn't understand her companions behavior, you're some random human, gone mad by the parasite. Their adoration, it was strange.
Sometimes, she feels like the only normal person in camp. With Gale clinging onto you like a child, Wyll's near obsession with protecting you, and Halsin's worry over your every move, Shadowheart is to believe that nearly everyone has gone mad. But as she hears you laugh at something Wyll said, and as Wyll somehow moves even closer to you, she starts to believe she's gone mad as well. That same anger burns in her chest and her cheeks glow with embarrassment.
You're so strangely alluring, keeping them entranced to the point of obsession. It's almost maddening how you don't seem to know how taken they all are with you, having them each wrapped around your finger. Shadowheart wants to believe this is all a persona, a ploy to use them for your own gain. But she knows better than to believe something like that, you're not the type to manipulate and lie to people.
She wants to believe that the fire that burns inside her is anger. Anger at you using them, trapping them within your grasps to achieved some strange power beyond their understanding. But in reality, the only thing that burns inside her is jealousy. Jealousy at the others for getting to you first, for taking your time and keeping you close to them at all times.
She'd never admit this out loud however, not wanting anyone to know what you do to her. You are a weakness, she can't have those. But as you call her over to the fire, and as Wyll represses a frown, she finds herself allowing room for weakness, at least for a small while.
Karlach
"Would you like a hug, Karlach?" She would like nothing more, but a part of her is afraid. She trust Dammon and his expertises, but she never wants to hurt you. But as you open up your arms towards her, smiling so brightly, she can't help but wrap you up so tightly, and like expected, you don't burn.
You are everything she's expected and more. You are soft and inviting, and she finds herself not wanting to let you go. You're so warm, but in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It wasn't like the flames of Avernus, hot and overwhelming. It wasn't like the fire burning in her heart. It was like a hearty fireplace on a cold winter day, comforting and familiar, and she found herself missing it as you pull away from her.
"Thank you, Solider." Her voice was sincere. You nod, smiling at her, causing her to smile even more.
Later that night, should couldn't help but think of your warmth, and found herself missing it. It surprised her, how much she wanted to be close to you, how much she wanted to hold your hand, keep you close, and never let go. It worried her, how overwhelming these feelings were, but unlike the fire that once burned in her or her infernal engine, it was something she strangely enjoyed. It reminded her of you, almost like you were forever with her.
As she tries to fall asleep, she finds herself thinking of you, of your hug and your smile, and how she would do anything to feel it again, to never loose you. She knows this won't last forever, Dammon told her as much. Eventually, the heat of her engine will catch up to her and she'll have to make a difficult choice.
But that's something she can think about later, all she wants to do right now is think of you.
Astarion
Astarion thought he was better than his companions. He wasn't going to fall for your act so easily, he's seen it all before. Act helpless in need of saving, have someone to naive and guidable sweep in, and then stab them in the back. He was sure that was what you were up too, but after keeping your act up for weeks, it seemed as though you were playing the long game.
Astarion didn't mind, nor did he judge, he just--wished you weren't so good at it. He wished he didn't fold nearly as fast when you ask him to stitch up your clothing, hiding his blush as you praise him for his work. He wished he didn't seethe with envy whenever you were with another, burning as they hold onto you tighter and tighter. And by gods, he wished he didn't find himself wanting you so damn much.
Astarion pricks his finger as his mind wanters, a small sting spreading through the appendage. A slight hiss leaves his lips before he puts down the shirt his hands, your shirt. It's almost pathetic how much care he puts into repairing your clothing, almost making him laugh. The tear was a small one, there shouldn't be a reason he's keeping it this long, but he finds himself caring a lot about your things, your clothes, your hair, you in general. He hates it, but he can't deny it.
Eventually, he picks the shirt back up, examining it. The old tear, barely noticeable, weights heavily on Astarion's undead heart. Would you notice it? Would you be upset that he failed to do his job correctly? He knows it's stupid to think this way, to care so much about what you think, but he can't help it. You're alluring, captivating even, and it scares him.
It scares him how easily you captivate people. It scares him how easily you captivated him. But most of all, the knowledge of what each of them would do for you scares him the most.
Astarion knows that he's no better than anyone else in your strange group, he's just as swayed by your kindness and compassion as any of them. He's just too scared to admit it.
Lae'Zel
Lae'Zel doesn't like you.
You disturb her, with your strange mutterings and stupidity that has to be due to the parasite. You never seem to know what's going on, and if was in her nature, she would pity you. But of course, she doesn't. She has no reason to feel bad for you, not when everything is at stake, not when any of you could die at any time. But traveling with you has been--eventful to say the least. Her allies seem to see something in you, not that she cares much. You're weak, helpless, insane, and nothing will change that.
Lae'Zel has been taught her entire life that the only thing that matters is keeping herself strong. Surrounding herself with lesser people, weak people, is a distraction to avoid at all cost. But she doesn't have the option now, you are her only option, and she will have to work with what's she's got.
So she protects you, she keeps you safe, and she keeps you alive. She needs you, as little as she wants to admit it. You are important to her cause, nothing else matters. She couldn't care less what you think of her, as long as her parasite is destroyed and her people are saved, that's all that matters.
But she can't deny the surprise she feels when you agree to help her people, when you defend her from the others blatant disrespect, something you claim to be "teasing". She can't help but appreciate it when you, someone so much weaker than her, protect her in battle. It shocking, even more so that she doesn't hate it. She doesn't hate the affection from someone so weak, she doesn't hate it when you rely on her, or when you seek her out.
She doesn't know what she feels exactly, but she knows for a fact that she does not like you.
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Note
Can I get more bg3 yandere, maybe what starts the obsession with the reader? Punishments?
A/N: Yes, more yandere coming up! (Wasn’t sure if you were referring to just the baddies list I posted or the companions, so I went with the main companions this time.)
And apologies for the wait… This was one hell of a week.
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Yandere!BG3: What Triggers Their Obsession 
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Astarion: 
Astarion is drawn to your innocence. 
At first, he thinks it must be an act, for someone to be so kind and open around a vagrant group of misfits they just met. 
But once he understands that’s just who you are, he feels he must protect that innocence by taking it all for himself. 
After all, he deserves it, doesn’t he? After two hundred years of slavery, he finally gets to possess some kindness of his own. 
Because that’s what you’d show him, isn’t it? You’d love him, understand him, and treat him the way he so longs to be treated. And all he has to do… is make you his to get it. 
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Ascended! Astarion: 
Ascended Astarion is drawn to your inner fire, the way you don’t submit when he demands you ‘bow’. 
Initially, he finds it rather amusing that such a helpless thing like you dare defy him. Then he becomes irritated before being overcome with righteous anger. How dare you continue to thwart his plans? You shall pay, indeed. 
He wants you begging, pleading on your knees for his mercy. He wants to be the only one with the power to grant such benevolence to you.  
You will know his name, you will know his power. Your insolence will not last long.
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Gale: 
Gale is drawn to your inquisitive nature, how you always seem so fascinated by any knowledge he has to share. 
No one, not even his students, has ever looked up at him with those big doe eyes the way you do. 
You appreciate him, in a way no one’s ever appreciated him before. 
He’s always played second fiddle, to greater wizards, to his goddess, but not to you. Never to you. 
He needs you to need him. He wants your awe but should push come to shove, he’ll settle for your fear. 
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Godhood! Gale: 
Godhood Gale finds you so impressively driven. Your bold choices and lack of apprehension call him to you. 
On one hand, he wants to empower you, to help you soar even further than your wildest dreams. On the other hand, he wants dominion over your confidence- he should be the one to grant it to you. You couldn’t possibly command your own destiny. He’s a God, after all, he should have reign of it. 
Just let him take control, he swears it’s only for your good. Gale would never overstep your boundaries. He swears on Mystra’s honor. 
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Wyll: 
Wyll wants to protect and cherish you like he believes he’s always been destined to do. 
For him, he was always burdened with this great privilege of being a hero. And you, you are the thing that makes everything he’s ever endured or sacrificed all worth it. 
You need him to save you. Sure, you’re capable, and yes, you could make it on your own, but why make it harder than necessary? Why not just let the man who would lay down his life for you, honor you and take care of you for the rest of your days?
You’re so sweet. You’re such a light in these dark, dangerous times. Wyll will ensure you’re safely hidden away from all the danger that lurks beyond. 
If that means Wyll is all you know of the outside world, then so be it. 
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Karlach: 
Karlach is drawn to your spunk, the conviction you must possess to keep on fighting.  
You remind her so much of her younger self, always eager, always ready for the next challenge. But alas, that’s what she fears. 
Her eagerness blindsided her to the truth about Gortash. She didn’t see what was coming until it was too late. She can’t let that happen to you. She won’t. 
Don’t you understand? No one else out there in the cruel, cruel world would tell you the truth. They are all self-serving and undeserving of your intentions. 
Karlach knows her conditions aren’t ideal, living in hell never is. But please, try to understand. 
A lifetime spent in hell at Karlach’s side is much, much safer than a world spent alone on the surface. 
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Shadowheart: 
Shadowheart is drawn to your inexperience, your childlike innocence in which you believe all that she tells you. 
She was always being taught that obedience mattered over intelligence. She thought such a statement was wrong but then, you came waltzing into her life. 
You exemplify compliance. Every word, every thought she has you take to heart like gospel. 
For you, there shall be no gods, no goddesses, no Shar or Selune to worship. 
There will only be you and her. 
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La’zel: 
La’zel, despite herself, is drawn to your kindness, your simplicity. 
She thinks you are weak, and undeserving of her affections, yet she feels the need to seize you and shield you all the same.  
Your flesh is soft, your heart is malleable, and your mind is guileless. Without her intervention, you would surely perish an otherwise avoidable fate. 
No. She must keep you away from the others, away from their grasp. 
It would be futile to try and navigate the world without her. 
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josnhoes · 2 months
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Some more self aware bg3 thoughts this time focusing on Durge!Tav. This will have a yandere tone.
Content warnings: yandere, isekai, platonic yandere, violence mentioned, delusional behaivor, reader is referred to as mother no matter their gender because durge is a little crazy and bhaal stole the father title
Durge is default durge
Previous post
The Tav being Durge is probably both the best thing and the worst thing that can happen to you. He senses *who* you are at first sight. Durge has accepted his dark thoughts and ways, his mind warped with the amnesia. Yet when he sees you he knows. You are his mother. You made him, shaped him.
It doesn't matter to him your gender you are mother. And upon first glance of you that's all he's ever called you. Durge is touchy and affectionate but most of all protective. He will not hesitate to kill or maim anyone for even looking at you wrong. He is the scary dog privileges.
His dark urges never extend at you. He's had urges involving you but more about things like bringing the head of someone who glanced at you too long to you.
Durge wants your praise, he wants your approval above all else. But hey at least you don't have to be scared of dying because he'd rip your soul from death's grasp personally.
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sorcerous-caress · 6 months
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Yandere Wyll headcanons
[Soft yandere, Toxic protective Wyll, jealousy, possessiveness, nb!reader]
[Part of the Wyll's Week event]
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Bedtime stories of love at first sight that his father used to tell him after tucking him in was something he thought he outgrow.
Yet on that day as he hopped down the grove's gate and faced the goblins, meeting your eyes amidst the battlefield felt like an arrow struck his heart.
A feeling he can't explain.
Wyll was hyperaware of your presence during the whole fight, of your safety. Casting a spell on the nearby goblin that might have taken you by suprise, completely ignoring the fact he was surrounded by a dozen of them himself.
In the aftermath, it almost hurt him to retreat back inside the grove, to leave you all alone out there.
He wanted to go and check on you, to ask your name at least.
But the tieflings urged him back, declaring him their hero as he smiled politely at the kids running up to him.
Please come back, he thought, please follow him.
It must be fate, and when you walked inside the grove and spoke to him, he was sure of it.
Your name sounded pleasent on his lips, and when you called him the blade of frontier he thought he might trip and make a fool of himself.
One thing led to another and he found himself back at your camp.
Much to his dismay, there were other tents placed Besides your own.
Even his reaction surprised him, why did his lungs burn at the idea of someone else staying near you as you slept? Why does his heart ache at the idea that he wasn't the first person you called back to camp.
The eventual meeting with the devil he was hunting ensures, and you're there by his side during it.
But you're looking at the devil with concerned eyes instead of disgust, you're lowering your weapon and asking if she's okay.
You ask for her name just like you asked for his.
Something ugly twists inside his stomach.
He takes over the conversation, steers it back to the purpose it once held before.
But you stop him, talk him out of it, and like any fool smitten in love, he can't refuse you.
Part of him is aware that he did the right thing, that your words rung true at the end, Karlach is no devil.
And as he pays the price for his change of heart that night, you still face him the next morning.
Still as handsome, you tell him.
You don't look at him with disgust, you don't prod at his horns and you don't avoid eye contact with his abyssal eye.
It really must be fate, for someone as kind hearted as you to cross paths with him.
He stays by your side that night, nods off to sleep with his head resting against your shoulder.
From that day on, he stays by your side and on your team.
Every attempt at getting him to go back to camp is met with refusal, you can only bring two other companions, the third will always be Wyll.
The world is too dangerous, the people are too greedy. He can't let someone take advantage of you, he can't let you out of his sight.
He shows off his power more in front of you, plays the heroic role with more flourish, targets the enemies that target you.
The other companions make a comment or two about how he seems to be inseparable from you, Wyll takes it in stride and plays it cool, yet never denies it.
Somehow each attempt they make at getting closer to you gets interrupted by some way or the other.
That time Gale attempts to share the weave with you, Scratch suddenly runs to you, your favourite boot in his mouth with chew marks and you completely lose focus and go after him.
That night Astarion invites you to the forest, it suddenly starts raining and it's too damp and muddy to do anything on the ground.
When Shadowheart called you to split a bottle, a cat jumps out of the bush and nearly makes her stumble off of the small cliff into the lake, both of you immediately make it back to camp.
As Wyll dismisses the familiar he summoned, he can't help but feel guilty and ashamed by his actions.
Just because he's not in a hurry to share his bed with you, doesn't mean that the other companions deserve it because they're easy.
Not to mention, you did promise him to dance with him eventually, did you not?
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vibingandsimping · 7 months
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I can't lie I normally don't like any pain or non-consensual stuff but that Valentine drabble's got me feeling some type of way - something similar with Karlach x reader and I think I'd have an aneurysm.
I wasn’t really a fan either! I think it really depends on how it is written. Some of it is a BIG hit or miss. I typically prefer dub-con.
I have another one in my drafts being posted soon. (When I first write this) For all you doms/switches/anyone interested in seeing her more submissive. I WILL turn my fans into lovers of my durge.
Ahead is a short drabble of a darker/yandere Karlach x reader :)
The relationship between you was sweet at first. Everything was perfect. The slow development of love, romance, and sex was something out of a fairytale. Digging deeper into her heart seeing her for her past and herself now intrigued you. She wore her heart on her sleeve but had depths unknown. It wasn’t until she felt truly comfortable in the relationship did something else start unraveling. Her protective nature became more domineering. She followed you around everywhere and grew incredibly anxious whenever she lost sight of you. Even lashing out at you sometimes. All of it followed by such sweet words and actions you couldn’t ever truly stay mad. She never meant it, right?
Yet, you were acutely aware of how stuck you were now. She had you trapped in her grasp, quite literally, and you knew she didn’t plan to leave anytime soon. She’d sing praise about how you were the best thing she’s gotten. Her reward for surviving Avernus and the war. You lay with her in the bedroll wrapped together. This wouldn’t be half bad, honestly. It was warm, quiet, and you knew you’d be protected by her. It was just her tail coiling your legs together and her arms wrapped around you too tight. Her nails digging into the flesh of your stomach and you were sure there were small nicks. Blood bubbling to the surface that’d scab over easily in the morning. Karlach was careful to never physically hurt you. No, but you were sure things could escalate if you really went against her wishes. You sigh and drop the tension in your body. Nothing would come out of depriving yourself of sleep. The tiefling drifted off long ago once she was sure you were secure in her arms. Some sleep… and maybe you two could talk about boundaries in the morning?
Sweet, ignorant wishes. You poor thing.
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donat-senpai · 8 months
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Everyone in the camp is ready to fight for the right to go to bed next to you. Hugging your warm body in sleep and listening to your breath. They have fights every damn night. You're so tired of all of them. You just fall asleep, cuddling comfortably with the Owlbear and Scratch while the idiots quarrel
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yandere-sins · 8 months
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Favorite
You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.
Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)
a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)
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Darkness is a vampire's best friend. 
It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn. 
Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them. 
Deeper and deeper into the darkness.
"Hello, darling."
You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.
The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night. 
Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.
He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you. 
Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course. 
You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.
"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.
Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position. 
You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.
You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.
"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.
"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows. 
"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes. 
"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."
His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.
A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head. 
"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."
A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace. 
"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."
You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"
"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."
This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear. 
"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"
The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words. 
Favorite. You were his favorite.
You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt. 
"You're my undoing, pet."
"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."
Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.
 "It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."
"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.
"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."
And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees. 
You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.
"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.
Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."
"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."
It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."
"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything. 
"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."
"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food. 
"Oh, the food!" 
His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it. 
"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything,  I promise."
His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.
"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."
There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.
"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."
"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin. 
"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."
For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.
"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."
"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now. 
"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."
There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?
But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place. 
 "That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake. 
You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care. 
By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.
"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."
You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead. 
"And you're mine. All mine."
At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.
And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.
Because you were his favorite.
And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.
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kiame-sama · 8 months
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More of druid Tav with Yan companions+ Raphael
Warnings; gender neutral Tav/reader, druid Tav/reader, yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, injury, threat to life/limb, yandere companions, spoilers for act 1 companions, slight spoilers for a bit of the act 2 side quests,
~~~~~~~~
"This deal is with your vampire spawn friend, not you. I don't want you getting involved in this matter."
"I am the unofficial leader of this group and I refuse to let a cambion tell me I can't protect my companions."
~~~~
Raphael frowned deeply as he thought back on the light spat he had with the defacto leader of the illithid anomaly group. He had plans for the druid far beyond the defeat of the Absolute and their cultists. One could even say that he had formed an attachment to them far beyond what he should when it comes to the pawns of his game. To think, the powerful cambion- master of the chess board of life- has formed an affection for one of the pawns on his side of the board. Or perhaps, it would be better to assign them to the king piece. If his precious druid falls, so too does all of Baldur's Gate and the rest of the Sword Coast. He cannot afford to be put in check, least of all check-mate.
The Orthon he had set the group after had already appeared in his House of Hope as agreed upon. Now, he stood waiting for the group to return to their camp to hold up his end of the bargain.
He expected them to return quickly and they did exactly that, what he didn't expect was the group to return in a frazzled and rushed state. None of the odd group even glanced in Raphael's direction as the Githyanki and the Tiefling grabbed several bedrolls, laying them out on top of the other. The rest of the group was not far behind as they hurried into the camp, the human waving forward the rest with a frantic gesture.
"Come on, Astarion, hurry!"
"I'm fucking hurrying, Wyll! You try running with your arms full like this!"
The spat between the two made Raphael raise a brow, wondering just what all of the fuss was about. It wasn't until the vampire spawn lay what was in his arms on the bedrolls that Raphael even realized the weight of the situation. Laying limply with blood-marred skin was the beloved druid, clearly having suffered some kind of serious wound. Raphael knew the tell-tale jagged edges of the open injury on their soft body, one that could only be caused by an Orthon.
The half-elf cleric and the burly elf druid kneeled on either side of their unconscious leader, trying to use their various magics to staunch the blood flow. None of what they did seemed to be working and Raphael knew he would have to act or risk losing his precious druid permanently to the cruel hands of death. He was quick to shove the half-elf aside so he could access his favorite mortal and try to prevent the rapidly approaching end.
"Hey," Shadowheart snapped at the demon, "what the hells are you doing!?"
Raphael didn't even give a response to the upset woman, setting to reversing the damage done by his soon to be reformed minion. He had half a mind to just flay the minion that dare put such a wound on his precious druid, but he also knew others may take it as a sign of weakness. All he could do for the time being was try to help his little druid survive what- to most- is a mortal wound. Luckily for sweet (y/n) they had a powerful cambion lord on their side who could actually heal an Orthon caused wound.
For most, a direct attack from an Orthon causes death. Usually only a powerful cambion could reverse such a wound, lucky for them that Raphael was certainly a powerful cambion.
Where the healing efforts of the cleric and other druid had done little for the large wound, Raphael's touch managed to close the injury within moments. It had certainly been something that would have killed his favorite misadventurer and they had near infernal luck to survive up until reaching Raphael at their camp. Their sallow skin made his chest tighten as he searched for any sign of true recovery before he noticed their deep breaths, relaxing almost instantly.
"How did this happen?"
Raphael spoke in an even tone, but the hard edge to his words was not lost on those present. He wanted an answer and he expected nothing but the truth from them.
"It's our fault, really."
Gale spoke up, his tone bitter with resentment towards himself and the other companions responsible for allowing such an injury to befall the beloved druid. Where they had not inflicted such a wound, they were still the ones their leader was injured protecting. They all felt there was blame to share as they had not heeded the wise words of their leader and their leader paid the price for it.
"(Y/n) instructed us to not group up on the edge of the platform, but... we did anyway. That Orthon intended to shove us all off to the floor below and kill us, but (Y/n) blocked the attack with their own body, using themselves to absorb the attack."
Raphael felt a spark of annoyance flash in his mind, but decided to let it go in favor of focusing on his darling druid. They were slowly waking from their brief brush with death and seemed rather disoriented with the world around them. Their slowly trailing eyes fixed first on Raphael, a dazed and kind smile pulling at their lips as they reached out to him. He didn't pull away but watched in slight confusion as they rest their hand on his cheek.
"Raphael... thought angels were supposed to greet me when I died?"
Raphael couldn't stop the affectionate chuckle that escaped his lips, laying his hand over the druid's.
"Well, angels don't tend to save or greet the living."
"Save..? The Orthon magic... I figured it would take a devil to heal devil magic."
"If you figured as much, why didn't you call for me?"
"I doubt you would have shown."
The smallest wince from Raphael drew the attention of the onlookers, it only now dawning on them that Raphael may feel attached to (y/n) too. Some were in furious disbelief at the simple idea of this cambion bastard going after their dear leader. Some were impressed that their leader had ensnared the heart of a cambion. Even the cambion didn't want to believe how much he had begun to adore the druid that entranced all others to trust and adore them.
"For you, my favorite misadventurer, I will always show. Rest now, your body has healed but your mind will be fighting the Orthon influence for a days time. I will do what I can to ease your rest."
He was quick to wave a hand over the druid's head, quickly sending them into sleep before they could reply to his confession. Now he had to face their loyal pack and get them to concede to allowing the devil a fair chance at winning the druid's heart.
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souls2sell · 9 months
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Yeah yeah we've all heard about yandere astarion but what about yandere gale
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falling-heights · 2 months
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can i request yandere minthara baenre x dhampir bard reader?
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"This music weeps , not for sin
But rather for the black fact
That we all must die ."
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Everything has its price. You paid yours in full, as did she.
This union is far from conventional, but perhaps that's what makes it such an interesting case.
Two souls, both tragically wicked and dreadful.
She has never slept a single night without the fear of waking to a dagger at her throat, and you are no different, but she understands you are as helpless as she has been for much of her life. You cannot always control your hunger, but she has found ways to contain it.
A muzzle is strapped to your face at every waking moment, like a wild thing in need of being broken and trained. Shackles that bound your wrists and ankles, so you cannot lunge at her if you ever found yourself 'overwhelmed'.
She should slaughter a beast like you, your head another proud addition to her legacy of murder, but she cannot help but keep you alive. Your cravings amuse her, and she enjoys the show you put on for her when she decides to feed you some poor soul. There are times that she has waited longer, waited until you're craving blood beyond reason or morals. Hungry to the point you rip their throat open in desperation. And she revels in each act of savage violence.
Only the few times where you have been sated does she unshackle your cuffs. Only when you are your most reasonable, will she bring you your lyre, and ask you to play something. To ease her, she says. Though she's more dependent on it than she'll every say.
She can't sleep without your music. A poisonous little lullaby. Her own personal siren song.
She does not know what has caused such a strong dependence. Perhaps it comforts her. Perhaps, for a moment, it calms the vicious demands of her mind, her nightmares, her fears. How can her worries vanish the moment she hears you sing? How can its sickening sweetness be so pleasing? She may never understand it, but she knows there is no need to try.
All she needs is the sound of your fingers plucking strings and your voice soothing her into yet another deeply soundless sleep.
There is nothing, she imagined, that would ever bring her this level of satisfaction. Death could not bring her such comfort. Fear could not make her smile. It's like your music has rewritten her brain to understand new forms of peace. Of love. She protects you just as much as she keeps you. She has never met such a captivating creature, and she would burn the Sword Coast to ash and extinguish the Hells should anything happen to her bloodthirsty bard.
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Hope you liked it, babe
Check out my other stuff!
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lovelybrooke · 13 days
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Can I request how how Karlach, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, and Astarion react to Reader helping them/doing something nice for them? Assisting Gale when he cooks, Wyll to take care of his horns, being affectionate with Karlach, taking Halsin somewhere in nature with animals to relax, and buying things like books & new clothes for Astarion!
This is super cute!! I don't know if this was exactly what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy either way.
masterlist
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Karlach 
Karlach always struggled with love, especially after all that has happened to her. When you live with the fire of hell burning within you, it makes it hard to truly build connections with people. She can't touch, she can't hold, so she can't love, no matter how desperately she wishes to. She's good at pretending however, putting on wide smiles and laughing along with the rest of you, but whenever she sees you hug Wyll or hold hands with Shadowheart, she is reminded of what she's missing out on, and it gets harder to pretend. 
Karlach feels what she assumed to be love when you told her that you've found the Infernal Iron needed to quell the fire in her heart, you were so excited, smiling so wide as you rushed over to Dammon as quickly as possible. You were so proud of yourself, but for a few moments, Karlach didn't know how to feel. She was confused, happy, excited, nervous, all at the same time. But when she felt your arms wrap around her, she knew what she felt, she felt love. She felt adoration building up from the very bottom of her being, coming out as a small laugh as she hugged you tight. She didn't want to let go, afraid that she would lose you forever, but more afraid that she would lose out on this feeling. This addicting feeling that is you. 
Gale 
Gale didn't know when he became the group's personal chef, but it's not something that he could back out now. 
He never thought himself particularly good at cooking, granted he's an adult, he knows how to take care of himself. But he's never been great at providing for himself. Maybe that's why he's taking his new position in stride, since he's not just taking care of himself, but other people as well. Especially with you around now, simply your presence has motivated him like no other. Since you've joined them, he's begun to enjoy providing more and more. He takes great pleasure in knowing you're safe and healthy, even if you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, being able to take care of you fills him with an emotion he can describe, but enjoys very much. 
What he enjoys even more however, is watching as you help him prepare meals for the rest of the group. You're intense and focused as you make sure everything is in order, and it's almost mesmerizing. He can't keep his eyes off of you, even when he knows he should be focusing on the food in front of him. He's never had someone be so prepared to help him, even with a task as simple as cooking, it's heartwarming to see you so willing to help him. 
Part of him wants to say something, tell you that he's more than capable of handling this on his own, but a stronger part of him simply wishes to watch you, a dumb smile on his face like he couldn't be happier. Because truly he couldn't, because someone cares for him, and it's the best feeling in the world. 
Wyll 
Wyll is a monster. He's grotesque and hideous, a demon who serves nothing but hell itself. But if it's the price he has to pay to keep people safe, then he'd gladly live the rest of his life with people fearing him.
Though he's not used to this. 
He wants to back away as you bring a hand up to touch his horns, of course after you begged for his permission, but he remains frozen. He doesn't even know why he agreed to this, maybe he secretly wanted to know what your touch felt like, his face felt warm at the thought, so he pushed it away. Your hands were soft, comforting as they touched his horns with so much care that it made his heart quicken. There was a hint of roughness to your fingers, no doubt from all the work you've been doing for them. 
Wyll wonders why you want to do this for him, he is more than capable of taking care of his horns on his own, but you seemed so adamant helping him clean them that he couldn't refuse you. You were always such a helper, prioritizing others instead of yourself. It is a rare trait to have, especially during these trying times. Wyll wants to protect that, protect your kindness and your selflessness. He wants to keep the warmth and the comfort you provide close to him, so that no one else will be able to steal it. 
Halsin 
Halsin has always felt the most himself when he was in nature. There were days when only the sounds of birds singing could calm him, where only the sight of flowers and foliage could put him at ease. 
Though you are a close contender. 
The sight of you in nature is something ethereal, even as you sleep peacefully on a blanket, the sun hits your face in a way that makes Halsin's heart soar. The man attempts to soak in your visage before you awake, wishing he could remain here forever, with you. In the background, birds sing and animals ruffle in the bushes, but the beauty of nature is nothing compared to the sight of you. 
Halsin wishes he could thank you, but with you so peaceful it seemed difficult to do so. This was your idea, an outing out in nature. He's been so caught up with the shadow curse that he never had time to truly relax. It seems as though the same could be said for you, you were knocked out cold, and he didn't have the heart to wake you, at least not now. 
Halsin hears you shift, drowning out all other sounds. He attempts to make himself as quiet as possible, not wanting you to wake just yet. He wants you to just be his for a while longer. 
Just for a moment, he wants your beauty to just be his. 
Astarion
Astarion doesn't like you, he hates you actually. You're annoying and clueless, you don't understand a thing. Every time he sees you in camp he wants to slam his head into a wall because you're so unbelievably sweet that it makes him want to scream. 
Astarion rubs a hand over a stitch in his shirt. It was crudely done, which he should be upset about, but he couldn't bring himself to fix it. Anytime he felt the seam, all he could think of was your wide smile as you handed him the cloth. Apparently you attempted to fix a tear that he acquired after fighting too roughly, and you just had to be so willing to help him. 
He didn't ask for your help, but you did so anyway. And it makes Astarion want to rip his hair out. Why do you have to be so kind, why do you have to be so helpful? Don't you know that you aren't going to receive anything in turn, that you're just going to end up empty and used. 
Astarion feels his fingers tighten around the stitch, his stomach feeling sick at the thought of you ending up like him. As he feels the seam under his fingers, he wonders why you're so helpful, why you feel the need to be so kind. A part of him thinks that it might be because you like him, you enjoy his company and want to foster a real relationship. But as he gazes out at you, sitting close to the fire in all your glory, he finds himself unworthy. He grips onto the stitch even tighter, like it's the only remnant of you he's allowed to have. 
The vampire wonders what would happen if he allowed himself to let you in, if you'd hurt him, empty him out, use him like all others had. Or if you'd remain your annoying, clueless, kind self. If you'd take all the broken parts of him and stitch them back together. 
Astarion would be sure to thank you if you did.
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