mimsynims

[mimsynims]

Look it’s meeee! (again)

Preview of @mimsynims entry for Good Omens Omegaverse zine vol.3! https://gomegaversezine.bigcartel.com/products

[mimsynims]

It’s meee!!

But hey, there’s also a lot of talented contributors in this zine, so remember to check it out xD

The first entry by @mimsynims !

[mimsynims]

I used to think you were a “I’m going to sit in a dark room and brood” sort of teenager, but now I’ve just found out you were in a punk band so now I’ve got a mental picture of a teenage version of you and your mates loitering around a small town with god save the queen playing in the back. Where on the scale were you?

More than one thing can be true at the same time.

[mimsynims]

🌞🗡️

[mimsynims]

A gift for my friend @starlightdreamerstar

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HOLD UP HOW WAS I NOT AWARE OF THIS

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Maybe if he was a little less fuckable we wouldn’t be in this mess

[mimsynims]

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[mimsynims]

"Rise of the Serpent"

Somewhere among his beloved stars, during the Great War - the moment redacted despite all his optimism finally lost hope, gave up on Heaven, and became Crowley.

[mimsynims]

And it’s sooo good 🔥🔥🔥

handsome enough to tempt me -- [Good Omens fic]

Rated E, 13.6k, Complete

Aziraphale has spent an entire semester pining after a handsome older student with beautiful red hair who had caught his eye the moment he saw him in their university library. Aziraphale is too scared to approach him, so he keeps putting off actually talking to his crush. Until the moment he walks into his introductory English Literature class the following semester and realises that the mysterious stranger isn't a fellow student after all...

Written as a gift for @angelsnuffbox <3 <3 <3

[mimsynims]

To any fic writers who worry they are wasting their time... I read a fic for a relatively small and inactive fandom about three years ago. And there was one specific scene where a character watched another dancing like an idiot to a beyonce song and it was so sweet and loving that even now years later I have that song on one of my spotify playlist so every once in a while it will play and remind me of that fic, and every time it does I smile and feel a little happier.

The stats on a fic will never really tell you if your writing touched someone. There's no numerical way to show you what impact you made. Maybe you are wasting time, or maybe you are writing something that someone will remember for a long time, something that will never fail to make them smile.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 9

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8

~~~

Author’s Note: Aaand it’s finally done! I always have trouble wrapping up a story, and this one was no exception… but I hope you’ll enjoy it!

This will be posted at AO3 at some point. (In fact, if I write more BG3 fics I’ll probably post it on AO3 instead of Tumblr, as usual. And I do have a few ideas actually…👀)

Thank you all for the likes, reblogs, and comments <3 it has definitely helped me keep going!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, finally a happy ending for these two knuckleheads

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

To begin with, you didn’t handle it well. You tried moving on, and that seemed to work. At least you told yourself that it did.

Then something happened that gave you hope. Perhaps he feels something for you too, after all?

~~~

You find him on the path close to the archway, in almost the same spot where you talked to Bex mere days ago. You take a moment to study him from afar. It’s hard to be sure when there’s nothing but the light from the moon illuminating him, but you think his shoulders look tense. Is this your doing?

You wish you could hug him, offer to him relax in your arms.

“I’m afraid your personal blood bank will be closed for a while,” you joke as you walk closer, hoping it will lighten his mood. “For restocking purposes.”

Astarion doesn’t turn around, and when he remains silent for several tension-filled seconds, you wonder if your quip was a mistake.

“Did you mean it?” he finally asks.

The question takes you by surprise and try as you might, you can’t figure out what he’s talking about. “I’m sorry?”

“You said that you’d do anything for me. Did you mean it?”

Oh. That. “Yes.”

Your heart starts pounding as he shifts to look at you. Silvery beams of moonlight caress his beautiful face, a face painted with apprehension — and possibly hope.

“And what does that mean?”

“What do you want it to mean?” you ask in return, because you’re not ready to say those three little words. Not yet.

“Nice try, Tav.” His jaw tightening, Astarion suddenly looks closed off. “If you’re going to play coy with me you might as well leave.”

With that, he turns away from you again — and it feels like a stab to the heart. “It means,” you amend quickly, “that I care for you.” You’ve never been good at expressing your emotions. Never been good at opening yourself up to other people. And it’s scary to do so now. “Deeply.”

Astarion scoffs. “I bet you said that to Gale too,” he says, and the bitterness in his voice stings.

“I– what are you talking about?”

“I saw you. You went to him.”

Acting without thought, you rush forward to place yourself in front of him to make sure that he looks at you; he needs to fully understand what you say next. “It wasn't like that, we only talked. Astarion, you’re special to me.”

You steel yourself for another cutting remark, but you’re helpless against the sad expression that replaces the anger. “So special that you decided to end things between us?”

Fool. You’ve been a fool. “I ended things because I didn’t think…” Taking a deep breath, you tell yourself to be honest. “I did it because I was jealous and I couldn’t handle the possibility of you breaking my heart.”

His brow twitches in confusion. “You were jealous? Of who?”

You desperately ache to touch him, but you hold yourself back. “Shadowheart. Halsin. Anyone that I thought was sharing your bed besides me.”

“Tav. Darling.” He sounds exasperated but hearing the endearment again sparks tingles of joy and hope inside your chest. “I haven't invited anyone to my bed since we started sleeping together.”

Oh. Oh. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” For the first time since you found him, a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “I thought you knew that.”

“No. No, I didn’t.” To say that you’ve been an idiot is an understatement. You’ve let yourself see things that aren’t there because you are insecure. “I haven’t either, you know. Been with anyone else since you.”

The smile twists into something teasing and sultry that feels more like Astarion. “Is that so?”

“It is, and I honestly can’t believe you’d think anything different.” It’s true. While you wouldn’t call yourself unattractive, you’ve never really been one to draw the attention of potential lovers. You’ve had a few before Astarion of course, but in general, people have been more inclined to remain your friend rather than try to pursue something more. “You wouldn’t have looked twice at me if you had seen me on the streets of Baldur’s Gate.”

“Now that is just untrue, my dear Tav.” He reaches for your hand, taking it in his. “As you so bluntly pointed out that night, my motives for seducing you may partly have been driven by self-preservation, but I chose you for a reason — and not because you're our reluctant leader.”

His slender fingers grip you tighter and the touch is exactly what you need just then. “Is that so?” you echo, attempting to sound teasing. You fail spectacularly.

“I was drawn to you even before I started to develop feelings for you.” Lifting your hand, he presses a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin of your palm before resting it against his cheek. “At first, I thought it was the need for your body that kept you in my thoughts night and day. But as I got to know you better, I realised it was your mind — you — that held my attention.” Closing his eyes, he leans into the touch with a sigh. “What Cazador had me do… It taught me how to read people. But you…?” He opens his eyes again to look at you, and what you see makes your heart skip a beat. “I thought I had you figured out, but you continuously prove me wrong. And I appreciate that more than I can express.”

“Astarion.” There’s so much you want to say. So much you need to say. But in that moment, you finally find the courage to tell him what you should’ve told him weeks ago, so the rest will just have to wait. “Astarion, I love you.”

His eyes widen in surprise as something vulnerable flashes across his face. After five heartbeats — you know, because you counted — he lets go of your hand to gently cup your neck.

The kiss is soft and gentle. Careful. In a way, it feels like a first kiss.

“Why didn’t you tell me that instead of breaking up with me?” He kisses you again before you can reply. “There you go again, doing the unexpected.”

You don’t even try to hold back a smile. “Have to keep you on your toes, you know. And I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure it would be welcomed, you silly goose.” To your surprise, it no longer hurts as much thinking back to that night. “First you disappeared and then when I found you, you were sitting between Halsin and Shadowheart.”

“My my, were you jealous, darling?” he drawls in mock surprise. The bastard.

“Of course I was!” You very carefully wrap your arms around his waist, ignoring the ache from your injury. Because you need to feel him against you, pain be damned. “Why do you think I gave Gale so much attention?”

“And got yourself decadently drunk, too. It was a glorious sight.”

“Oh shush, you.” Despite yourself, you laugh.

“I have to apologise, though, my darling. I, too, was jealous.” His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “I could tell something was troubling you, but you kept being so elusive. I assumed… I thought that meant you only deemed me worthy of getting access to your body, and nothing more.”

“Astarion.” The sincerity and sorrow permeating his words make you feel like a villain. “Gods, I’m so sorry, too. At the time, I didn’t think you’d be interested in anything else.”

“I want anything and everything you give me, Tav.” You feel his fingers slide down your uninjured side, gripping you as firmly as he dares to. Lifting his head to get a better look at you, his eyes lock with yours. “I love you, with everything that I am.”

You can see the truth of it in his gaze, can feel it in his touch. He loves you. Was it always there and you were just blind to it? Or did he hide his feelings, just like you did?

It doesn’t matter, you decide, because all you need to know is that he’s in your arms.

“You have all of me, Astarion.”

“My beautiful Tav.”

You share another kiss, and then Astarion insists you both go back to camp to let you rest. The thrumming pain of the wound is there, but it’s easily overshadowed by the warmth blooming in your chest every time Astarion throws a smile your way on your way back. His hand is still linked with yours — it’s such a small detail but it feels infinitely more intimate than anything else you’ve shared with him so far. It’s impossible to stop smiling — not that you’re trying.

He follows you to your tent but to your dismay, he tries to leave after he has made sure that you have everything you need.

“Please don’t leave,” you say, refusing to let go of him. “I want you to stay. Stay the night.”

“Tav, my love, you’re in no condition to have sex.”

My love. It almost throws you off course to hear the new endearment. “Astarion, my love,” you counter, and oh, it’s worth it to see his reaction, “I wasn’t suggesting we’d have sex. I just want you close. Assuming that’s alright, of course.”

“Really?” He sounds just a tad surprised; that’s something you and he will need to unpack before going any further. But not tonight. “Well, that I can do.”

It takes a bit of careful shuffling around, but you manage to find a position that’s comfortable for you both without putting pressure on your injury.

He’s here. In your arms. You didn’t think you’d get to have this, but he truly is here. Your contented sigh is nothing but a muffled exhale into his curls but he doesn’t seem to mind, giving you a fond chuckle in response.

“Are you sniffing my hair, darling?”

“No.” It doesn’t sound convincing even to your own ears. “Well. Maybe a little,” you confess. “I can’t help that you smell nice.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, pet. Your scent is quite enticing too, you know.” You feel his chest expanding as he takes a deep inhale. “Drives me crazy sometimes.”

“Since you drive me crazy on a regular basis, I’d say that’s only fair.”

“Why, you little cheek..! Just watch me be even more annoying from now on.”

“You’re not annoying,” you say, trying to hold back a yawn. “You’re just a handful.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Of course–“ you lose the battle against another yawn. “…you will.”

You feel the press of his lips against your skin. “Quite right.”

“Astarion?” Your eyelids start to get heavy, and for the first in what seems like ages, you feel completely safe and relaxed. “I’m so happy I have you in my life.”

“Me too, darling. Me too.” His hand slides down to find yours, lacing your fingers. “Now go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over us. And tomorrow we will face whatever comes next. Together.”

~~~

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 8

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than usual, it was a stressful week at work and I didn't have time or energy to write as much as I wanted. There will be at least one more part, but I'm hoping I'll wrap things up next time (but honestly who knows with these two)

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, non-explicit injuries, eventual happy ending

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

Up until now, you’ve not been handling it very well, but you make an effort to move past it. Past him.

~~~

You keep your promise to yourself fairly well in the following days. The Shadowlands, as expected, keep you busy with new mysteries and clues — and plenty of battles — and most of the time, you manage to remain focused on the task at hand.

Perhaps your heartbeat picks up a notch every time Astarion is near, but you ignore it. And maybe, just maybe, you stare at him a smidge too long when he’s not looking, but only when you know it doesn’t pull your attention away from something important.

You’ve caught him watching you too, but you keep your distance. No distractions, not even for a quick roll in the proverbial hay.

Everything is going relatively alright — until it doesn’t.

Thanks to the psionic detector, the Githyanki ambush doesn’t catch you off-guard, but you learn quickly that you have underestimated the danger they pose.

Perhaps you all got too cocky these last few days — too many easily-won battles that have boosted your confidence into thinking that this too will be readily handled.

In retrospect, you should’ve returned to stock up on scrolls and potions before taking them on. Too late now.

It’s a drawn-out battle, wearing you all out little by little, but if it’s anything you and your friends are, it’s tenacious — and after what feels like an eternity, you’re down to one foe. It’s their leader, but even with all of you severely injured, you should be able to take them out.

You grin as Karlach deals a critical hit with her halberd, finishing the Githyanki off with a savage roar.

“Gods, that was close.”

“Too close,” Astarion says as he sheaths his swords. Things aren’t exactly good between you, but it has been getting better. “Next time we contemplate doing something this stupid, how about we don’t?”

“You’re just cranky ‘cause you didn’t get to bite either of them.” Karlach nudges him with a grin. “Isn’t that right, Fangs?”

You’re still laughing when something behind the others steals your attention.

One of the other Githyanki. You saw them get felled by one of Shadowheart’s spells, but perhaps they only got knocked out.

You stop breathing when you realise that not only are they alive — but they have an arrow notched, ready to fire.

And it’s aimed at Astarion.

It’s too late to stop the arrow as they, at that moment, let it fly — so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Tav, what–”

You push him out of the way, but it’s not fast enough.

The pain of the arrow piercing you is blinding; you think you might be screaming.

“Tav!”

You sag to the ground, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking at you with a panicked expression. At least he’s okay, you think.

After that, everything fades to black.

“…Calm down, Astarion, Tav will be alright.”

“They don’t look alright! Why aren’t you doing more?”

“The only thing we can do now is wait. If you can’t behave, leave. We’ll find you when Tav wakes up.”

You’re vaguely aware of the voices, but you’re not quite capable of parsing what they’re saying.

“Hah! And leave them alone with you lot? I don’t think so.”

Why does everyone sound so upset? You can’t remember, and before your mind is clear enough to figure it out, you drift back into unconsciousness.

Your mind still feels like a blur when you come to next. You think someone might be holding your hand, but it’s difficult to be sure when you’re groggy with pain. And you’re not ready to open your eyes just yet.

“Why, oh, why, must you always play the hero? And for me, of all people?”

You recognise the low-pitched voice. Astarion. Why is he here?

“So stupid.” What feels like hair brushes against the back of your hand. “I’m not worth you losing your life.”

“Sure you are,” you press out, because it’s that simple. “I’d do anything for you.”

He inhales sharply. “Tav? Tav, darling, open your eyes for me.”

You reluctantly do as he asks, and it surprises you to find him looking uncharacteristically dishevelled.

“There you are. You had us worried, you know.”

“Astarion.”

“I’ll go and get the others.”

“Astarion.”

Before you can stop him, he leaves, and when he returns with the rest of your friends, he sticks to the background, letting the others dote on you.

You want him to come back, want him to hold your hand again. If the others weren't around, you might have asked him to. Instead, you see him sneak out of the tent when Karlach starts admonishing you for your brave yet careless stunt.

You love them all so much, but in that moment you’re this close to telling them all to leave. You would have, if you didn’t know that they probably need this to ease their own worries.

Still, you’re eternally grateful when Shadowheart ten minutes later shoo everyone out of your tent. She’s about to leave too when she turns to give you a secretive smile.

“You said his name, you know. More than once. When we carried you back to camp.”

With a bone-deep groan, you hide your face in your hands. “Please tell me he didn’t hear.”

“Oh, he most definitely did. But you know how he is, after the initial surprise, his expression turned blank. But his eyes never left you after that.” She huffs a laugh. “Not that he let you out of his sight before that. The only one allowed to carry you was Karlach.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Really?”

“I thought he was going to attack Halsin when he bent down to pick you up.”

“Why would he do that?” It truly makes no sense.

“Jealousy, of course.”

“Astarion? Jealous?”

Instead of answering, she just gives you a wink. “Seems like you two have that in common. Now make sure to rest, alright? I’ll come by with something to eat later.”

“Right.” Your head is spinning, and not only because you're recovering from an injury. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

You want to process everything you just learned but your body is not having it; in mere minutes, you’re back under again.

No one is holding your hand when you hours later rouse from sleep. Strange that, how your mind seems to have expected it just because it happened last time. When Astarion was sitting by your side.

Astarion.

You have to find him.

It still hurts like hell, but the pain level is manageable. Perhaps a grunt or two slips out of you as you drag yourself up to standing, but no one’s there to give you grief about it so it’s fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

It’s dark outside, but you should’ve known better than to think that that would be enough to let you sneak away unnoticed.

“And just where do you think you’re going, soldier?”

Karlach.

“I need to see him.” She already knows, so you might as well get right to the point.

She sighs. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“No.”

“What if I go and find him for you?”

“Karlach.”

“Fiiiine. But only because I was already heading that way, anyway.”

“Dammon?”

Her besotted smile is a fetching look on her and you would hug her if you didn’t think it would hurt too much.

“Yeaaah. And last time I saw Astarion, he was heading in that direction.”

You don’t talk much on the walk over to the inn, your mind too busy going over and over what you want to say. What you want to ask him.

“You alright there, soldier?”

“Mmm, yeah. Maybe a bit nervous.” Because it’s truly dawning on you what you’re about to do. What if you’ve got it all wrong?

“Hah, trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her gentle squeeze on your arm feels reassuring. At least a little bit. She glances over her shoulder at the smithy where a fire is still burning. “And this is where I leave you.”

“I’m happy for you, Karlach.”

“Thank you, Tav. I’d say good luck but I don’t think you’ll need it. Now go and shake some sense into the vampire of yours.”

“Will do,” you say, even though you’re not sure you mean it. Every plan you’ve made so far involving this man has gone sideways, so who’s to say it won’t this time?

Taking a deep breath, you find yourself remaining where you are. Stalling.

“Should you really be up and about, Tav?”

“Jaheira.” You are so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear her approach. Turning around to face her, you give her a small smile. “I have something important I need to do.”

“I see.” With a slight bow of her head, she acknowledges your wish for privacy. “It’s good that you’re here, I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. I’m not sure we would still be standing if it weren’t for you and your friends.”

“Trust me, I’m just as happy as you are about that. And you made quite the dent in enemy forces yourself, taking down several of those winged horrors.”

“Their deaths wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t dealt with Marcus.”

“Still.” Jaheira is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. “We could use someone of your calibre in our party.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m needed here.”

“I understand.” Something in her expression tells you that she’s tempted. “Consider it an open invitation. In case you change your mind.”

“I will, thank you.”

“You don’t happen to know if Astarion is here somewhere?” You decide you might as well save yourself some time and ask. “Karlach told me she had seen him head this way.”

“He came here a while ago, yes. I think he’s down by the water.” She nods in the direction between the inn and the barn.

“Thank you.”

~~~

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 7

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

~~~

Author’s Note: I wish I could say that this part wrap things up, but I need at least one (probably two) more before these two get their shit together.

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

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

And you’re not handling it very well.

~~~

You’re at the edge of the camp when a hand curls around your arm, forcing you to stop and turn around.

Astarion.

And he looks angry.

“Were you spying on me?”

Thrown by the accusation, you grapple for words. “What? I– Of course not, why would I–”

“Just because Karlach chose Dammon over you, you don’t get to spoil my fun.”

The strange remark about Karlach is quickly overshadowed by his downright ludicrous allegation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

Astarion carries on as if he didn’t hear you. “You were the one to break things off with me, not the other way around, so you don’t have any say in what or who I do.”

The audacity. “And I wasn’t trying to!”

“Sure, darling, sure.” Sarcasm drips off his words. “That’s why you followed me to the inn.”

“I–” You break off, because, in a way, he’s not wrong. “My intention was to have a drink.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t have run off when I caught you watching me. Watching us.”

“Astarion, I don’t give a rat’s arse who you sleep with.” The lie slips off your tongue before you can stop it — the alternative is telling him the truth, and right now, that’s not an option. You feel too vulnerable, and honestly, you doubt he’d believe you at this point. “I only left to not make it awkward.”

“Really?” His smile feels vicious, mocking. “Perhaps I should go back to the inn, then.”

The urge to ask him not to is so strong you remain silent until you have yourself under control. “You do that,” you finally press out, “as I said, I don’t care what you do.”

Astarion takes a step closer, searching your face. Your heart is pounding as he scrutinises you; it’s as if he’s determining the validity of your claim. Will he see right through you? A part of you hopes that he will, and as the seconds go by, your determination wavers. Should you risk it?

“Astarion…”

“Fine.” His face hardens. “Have it your way. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh fearless leader.”

With a slight bow, one that feels tinged with scorn rather than respect, he turns around and leaves the same way he came. Towards the inn.

Towards…

“You’re such an idiot, Tav.” You drag a hand across your face. This is the second time he walks away from you, and it hurts just as much as the first time it happened. “Such a fucking idiot.”

If you were tired before, you’re exhausted now.

Perhaps it’s time you take a hint and focus on more important things, like getting these goddamn tadpoles out of your heads.

And maybe by then, things will have worked themselves out. Somehow.

It’s a good thing you’re not expected to be up early the next morning because when dawn comes around, you’ve barely slept at all. Too many thoughts, too many feelings.

You can hear some of the others stir, but you ignore it. And perhaps the comforting background noise of your friends talking and preparing breakfast is exactly what you need to finally relax, because the next thing you know, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the only ones left in camp are Gale and Shadowheart. And Withers, of course.

“Oooh, look who’s finally awake! Late night for you as well, huh?”

Gale is far too cheery for your taste, but you bite back the snarky comeback because it’s not his fault you feel like shit.

“No, just…”

Shadowheart offers you a sympathetic smile. “Nightmares?”

It’s a convenient lie, so you simply nod, because the truth is far too complicated.

“Where are the rest?” You don’t really want to know, but it’s something you should be asking. So you do.

“Around, somewhere. Haven’t seen Astarion or Karlach, though.”

“Ah. I think I know why.”

So he stayed the night somewhere else, too.

Once you’ve eaten something, you and the rest go back to the inn. Finding Karlach sitting with Dammon is no surprise, but Astarion is nowhere to be found. 

No matter, you tell yourself. There are more important things to worry about.

There are a lot of familiar faces to talk to, keeping you busy. So busy you don’t even notice when Astarion joins the rest of you — suddenly he’s just there, in the back. A quick glance lets you know that he looks about as worn-out as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he stayed up all night with that person you saw.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tell yourself to focus on the matter at hand, which is listening to Alfira. It seems it’s time for another rescue mission because of course it is. You’re tired and the increasing burden tests your already frayed patience, but Alfira isn’t the one to blame, so you rein yourself in.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice tells you to take a break, but you ignore it.

You visit Isobel last — and it’s lucky that you do. The attack comes from out of nowhere, catching you all off guard. You don’t want to think what would have happened if Isobel was alone.

It’s a tough battle — made even more difficult by the fact that you’re not on top of your game. You’re struggling, and it’s no one’s fault but your own. 

You’re fortunate that you and your friends work like a well-oiled machine by now — because you will all be doomed if you fail. It warms your heart to realise that even in the midst of your falling out with Astarion, he doesn’t hesitate to fight back-to-back with you when it comes down to it.

In the end, your side comes out winning, but not without losses. You yourself have several cuts and bruises that will need tending to, but you ignore them in favour of checking on everyone yourself. You may not be the leader of people currently residing at the inn, but your neglect makes you feel responsible either way.

“Tav.”

“What is it, Astarion?”

“Stop it with this good samaritan nonsense and go see a healer, would you? You’re leaving a trail of blood all over this place, and I think they have enough problems as it is without having to clean up after you.”

His usual snark is both annoying and comforting. “Maybe once I’m done.”

“You are done. Now, Tav.”

You have intentionally been refusing to look at him until now, but his tone has you shifting your head to glare at him. It seems someone has patched him up already, as you can see bandages on his lower arm and hand. “Astarion, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I will most definitely tell you what to do when you’re being a stubborn idiot. These people already have a leader.”

You know he’s right, but guilt is eating you up and this is the only way to placate the monster of shame inside you. “That doesn’t matter–”

“Tav.” Halsin and Karlach join Astarion’s side, both giving you a worried look. “That’s enough.”

“Right. Fine.” You may have won the fight, but you feel like a failure, knowing how many lives were lost tonight. “I’ll go and find Shadowheart.”

You have no idea what she sees on your face, but it’s enough to have her hold back any remarks and tend to your many wounds in silence. As you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush, you start to feel weary and disappointed with yourself.

“You should eat something. Rest.”

“Later.” You know she’s right, but you’re too restless still to heed her advice. “I need to, I don’t know.” Rising, you make a vague motion with your hand. “Walk things off first.” What you really need is to fall into someone’s arms and cry, but that’s not on the table.

“At least bring an apple or something,” she concedes. “And make sure to return before nightfall, or I’ll send Astarion after you.”

You open your mouth to object but close it again. That’s the perfect threat right now and you hate that she knows it. “Fine.”

“We just want you to be careful, Tav. We all need each other, you know.”

You sigh. “I know. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

“Good. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it, though? You catch Astarion watching you as you leave. He better not follow you.

For everyone’s sake, you need to be alone. Now, and until this whole tadpole situation has been dealt with.

No more distractions.

~~~

[mimsynims]

Good Omens Fic Rec List 21

Hello and welcome to all fans of Top Crowley and Bottom Aziraphale, newcomers and old-timers alike. Time for a fabulous new rec list! Got some fun and super sexy offerings for your reading enjoyment, and, as always, every M- and E-rated fic is guaranteed to have Crowley topping that angel.

The Bishop of Bath and Wells, inspired by real historical illustration, Now also illustrated by Yvesriba by @scrapheapchallenge Rating: T Word Count: 6,424 (2/2 chapters) Delightful historical fic of the early middle ages. Crowley has been instructed to see to the downfall of the Bishop of Bath and Wells, ensuring his damnation, while Aziraphale has the task of winning the man over to Heaven's side. But it's quite hopeless since Bishop Brihtwine is so thoroughly odious and steeped in evil already, and his latest crime involves a stolen land deed belonging to a monkish order. Aziraphale tries in vain to persuade the bishop to return it. Taking pity on him, Crowley tries to help him out by persuading the bishop to return the deed (since this single small act won't have any bearing on the bishop's ultimate fate), via extraordinary amounts of alcohol, with hilariously disastrous results. Story was inspired by some real medieval art, and consequent lovely fanart by Yvesriba.

2. Banquette Seating by teresesz1379 Rating: NR Word Count: 6,727 (4/4 chapters) Dom Crowley and Sub Aziraphale. They're having a lovely dinner at the Ritz, but Aziraphale doesn't seem to appreciate it much. In fact, he's being downright bratty. Crowley takes steps to properly discipline his sub with a spanking right there in the middle of the restaurant, with a little miraculous time-stopping, of course. The discipline and punishment aren't quite over yet, though, as Crowley decides to see how much the angel can take. (CW: Tags include Humiliation and Semi-Public Sex.)

3. Well Served by @janara7 Rating: E Word Count: 7,144 (one-shot) Human AU. Crowley and Aziraphale are porn stars. They've never worked together, but when they receive too many dull, uninspiring scripts, they decide to join forces and secretly make their own spontaneous film behind their boss's back. Crowley knows it won't be easy to convince Aziraphale to go off script, but at a meeting at a lovely little cafe, they come up with a simple premise: Crowley as a waiter, and Aziraphale as a difficult customer who needs to be dealt with. From there, they plan to improvise their way through a sex scene, because whatever they come up with, it's bound to be better than the dreadful scripts they've been given lately. Truth be told, Crowley is looking forward to having his way with this prim, lovely, exasperating almost-rival, and by the way Aziraphale's glance keeps going to his groin, he's pretty sure Aziraphale is looking forward to it as well. Eric and Newt are recruited to handle the camera and lighting, and from there on, it's a sizzling hot time.

4. If you're horny, let's do it by @mimsynims Rating: E Word Count: 7,145 (one-shot) Human AU. This fic is well named! Anathema drags her friend Aziraphale to a strip club to meet her new boyfriend who works at the bar, and also, coincidentally, to take in the show. Aziraphale very reluctantly stays…and then he recognizes one of the dancers. Not only is Crowley in one of his classes at university, Aziraphale has long had a crush on him. Fantastically hot fic with sexy dances, including Crowley treating Aziraphale to a lap dance, and things only get hotter when Aziraphale meets up with Crowley at the bar later.

5. Just Like Heaven by @angeletombee Rating: E Word Count: 126,953 (24/24 chapters) Human/University AU. It's the 1990s, and Aziraphale has just come to university and moved into the dorm, only to discover that his new roommate is a goth, a complete opposite to his own bookish personality. However, the two young men bond and become friends. Before long Aziraphale is learning about Crowley and the goth scene, and falling in love. So it's a good thing they're already roommates. It isn't all sweetness and light, however, as a jealous stalker has his sights on Crowley, and he doesn't like Aziraphale being in the way one bit. This fic was a fabulous romp back to the 90s.

6. Knot on My Watch by @phoenix-soar and @wargoddess9 Rating: E Word Count: 6,032 (one-shot) Omegaverse/Human AU. Aziraphale has misplaced his heat suppressants, when he's struck by the sudden onslaught of a heat in the middle of a work conference at a hotel. He leaves to return to his room, in dire straits as the heat threatens to overwhelm him, when there's a knock at his door. One of the senior executives, an alpha named Crowley, noticing his distress (indeed, his distress was evident to everyone in the hall), has followed him and politely asks if he needs assistance. More specifically, he asks if Aziraphale would like him to help with his heat, because he'd be perfectly willing to be his alpha for the duration. As the heat overwhelms him, Aziraphale succumbs to the temptation of Crowley's generous offer. He just hopes he can keep his inconvenient feelings under wraps, and that Crowley doesn't find out Aziraphale has had a crush on him for years. An excellent fucking-while-pining fic.

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 6

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry it took longer than usual! The first bit I wrote was shorter than I wanted, so I kept writing - and now you'll get more than usual instead haha... (Sorry not sorry about sneaking in a bit of a side ship I have, but it fit in this part and I want Karlach to have her hot blacksmith - yay HeartForge!)

Thank you for the comments! <3

Oh, and as I think I mentioned before, this will of course stray from canon but I have and will use things that actually happen in the game too (act 1/2), just FYI.

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn't have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only... now you do. And you're not handling it very well, making a rash decision you will regret. Is there a way to undo it?

~~~

It’s eerily quiet when you get back to camp. Not that you expected your friends to still be awake, but the silence feels ominous.

Or perhaps it’s just your guilt making it seem that way.

You’re not sure breaking things off was the wrong decision — the jury is still out on that — but you regret how it happened. Regret being so harsh.

Regret not waiting until morning to have the conversation.

A noise coming from the direction of Gale’s tent snaps you out of your musings. Your body tenses up, readying for battle. Scanning the area, your hand drifts down towards a weapon that isn’t there. You must have dropped it sometime during… during. It aches thinking back and you can’t bring yourself to go back. Not now, anyway. 

You spot a flash of purple and instantly relax. Gale must be awake still. 

Perhaps the gods decided to be lenient after the night you had, giving you the opportunity to stomp out at least one fire you’ve accidentally started before it becomes an uncontrollable inferno.

“Still up, Gale?”

“Tav!” He smiles. “Yes, but I was about to tuck in for the night too.”

His eyes roam over you, but if he suspects what you and Astarion were up to after he and the others left, he doesn’t mention it.

“So, Gale…” You clear your throat. “I actually came over to apologise.”

“Apologise?” He sounds genuinely surprised. “Whatever for?”

“I think I might’ve given you the impression that I’m interested in more than friendship. And that was careless of me.” And apparently, you’re too much of a coward to admit that you used him. “I’m sorry.”

Gale takes a moment before he answers. “You were careless, yes. But I think I may have an inkling as to why.”

“Ah.” Of course he does. “For the record, the circumstances surrounding that… reason, have changed, one might say.” Because you were acting without thought, yet again. “Which doesn’t affect things between us — you and me, I mean. I value our friendship dearly, but–”

“Tav.” Gale holds up a hand to stop you. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

He sounds sincere, and searching his face, you find nothing to suggest otherwise. “Thank you. For what it’s worth, I did have a really nice time tonight.”

“Good. Me too.” A half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “I can’t pretend I wasn’t disappointed when you invited the others, but in retrospect, I think you did the right thing.”

“You’re a good man, Gale.” A hug seems inappropriate, so you place a hand on his arm instead. “I’m sure someone better and kinder than me is waiting somewhere out there for you.”

His smile turns wry. “And I’m sure you and your ‘reason’ can sort things out once you both stop being stubborn arses.”

It’s probably because you’re still a bit drunk and in need of sleep, but you can’t stop yourself from bursting out laughing. “I think we would need a miracle for that.” Gale isn’t wrong, both you and Astarion are often too stubborn for your own good.

You expect Gale to at least chuckle, but instead, his expression softens. “It seems a miracle we’re all still alive, so who’s to say we can’t have another?”

He sounds so serious you stop laughing just as abruptly as you started. The hurt from before resurfaces, because there’s a bigger obstacle than stubbornness in your way. “I think I would need more than one miracle to accomplish what you’re talking about, and I doubt that I’m that lucky.”

Because even if you would talk, he still doesn’t love you, and in your current miserable state, you doubt that he ever will. To your dismay, you feel tears threatening to spill. Perhaps you should’ve waited until tomorrow to talk to Gale, after all.

Gale comes closer and puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, sympathy plain on his face. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

This conversation has taken a turn you don’t want to face right now — and with Gale, of all people — so you just nod.

“Thank you for your honesty, Tav. Now off to bed with you.” Taking a step back, Gale lets his hand drop, Gale. “We both need all the sleep we can get, I think.”

“We do, yes.” You turn to leave but not before giving him another smile. “Thank you, Gale.” You don’t elaborate, but you can tell that you don’t have to as he bows his head in understanding.

“Goodnight, Tav. Sleep well.”

“You too, goodnight.”

As you walk over to your tent to change before going to bed, you think you see movement in the corner of your eye, but when you turn your head to look, there’s nothing there.

“And now you’re imagining things,” you mutter to yourself. “No more alcohol for you until we’re somewhere safe.”

Whenever that may be.

The following days go by in a whirlwind of events, and even if you somehow would have plucked up the nerve to talk to Astarion, you never get the chance. 

First, it was Elminster showing up to talk to Gale. You’re still not convinced it was a good idea to let him into your camp — most likely not, considering the message he was here to deliver.

You know you probably should’ve waited to let Gale have the time to process, but he insisted you press on and next thing you knew, your party was in the Shadowlands, facing goblins and driders and Harpers.

And Jaheira.

Astarion has been ignoring you as much as he can since the night, but you could sense his approval when you refused to drink the wine Jaheira offered you. Perhaps you can mend things between the two of you, in time. You desperately hope so, because a part of you already misses the chats. His embrace. The connection.

Last Light Inn turns out to be a place with many familiar faces, but after the long day you’ve all had, you decide to rest before reacquainting yourself with everyone — with one exception. 

To your — and Karlach’s — delight, you find Dammon in the stables outside the inn building.

You hide a smile when Dammon lights up at the sight of the Karlach. He may be greeting all of you, but his eyes rarely leave the Tiefling, even when he talks to you and the others. It soothes your aching heart to know that things might work out for at least one of you, even if your own love life seems doomed.

Somewhere along the way, she’s become one of your best friends. She deserves nothing but happiness, and it feels like she’s one step closer when Dammon tells her that he can craft an insulating chamber for the infernal engine. It’s not a permanent solution, but it’s enough, for now, to finally allow her to touch people again.

You stand back as Karlach instals the chamber; Dammon looks at her so intently it almost feels like you’re intruding.

The chamber clicks into place.

“Go on,” Dammon says, lifting a hand. “Give us your hand.”

Circumstances aside, it’s a lovely moment, watching the two of them.

“Damn. I’m good.” Dammon laces their fingers for the briefest of moments. “And you — you’re very touchable.”

They’re both so adorable you wish you could grab the others and leave these two be. And perhaps you also wish that this could be you and a certain vampire that is currently looking everywhere but at you.

Letting go of Dammon, Karlach turns to you with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from her yet.

“Tav! I can touch you now!”

“I’m so happy for you, Karlach! May I hug you?”

“Yes.” Her smile wavers with emotion. “Please.”

Her skin is hot against yours but it’s not unbearable, so you wrap your arms tight around her, glad to finally be able to hug your friend.

“Thank you.” She sounds close to tears. “Talk more back at camp, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Karlach? I need to explain the bad news too.”

You can feel a hitch in her movements and when she pulls back, her smile is strained.

She listens to what Dammon has to say, but you’re not sure she fully accepts it. You decide to leave it, for now, not wanting to dim her joy more than necessary.

Back at camp, Karlach keeps touching everyone here and there — even a moody Lae’zel accepts it, albeit reluctantly — and her happiness seems to lift the spirit of the others, too.

When everything calms down for the night, you seek her out. You can feel Astarion’s eyes on you, and in a moment of bravery, you decide you’ll talk to him after you’ve spoken to Karlach.

“Karlach? May I come in?”

“Of course! You’re always welcome into my tent, Tav.” She’s ever-moving, still brimming with energy. “Everything alright?”

“I’m fine.” You decide to get right to the point. “I’m actually here to talk about you.”

“About me?”

“It was impossible not to notice the chemistry between Dammon and you today. With everything that’s happened, and considering what the future seems to hold for us… I think you should seize the moment. Go and find him. Be happy, while we still have time.”

Karlach stops to look at you, uncertain. “You think he would want that?”

“I do. He looked just as smitten as you clearly are.” 

“He did, didn’t he?” Her expression turns a bit bashful. “I didn’t just imagine it?”

“No, definitely not. And we won’t be rushing out of here just yet, so if you find yourself inclined to spend the night with him…”

“Tav!”

You shrug, holding back a grin. “I’m just saying.”

“Right.” She nods to herself. “You’re right. I should go right now, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes. Go, shoo.”

She laughs. “So eager to get rid of me. Planning to seduce someone yourself, Tav? I’ve seen your looks towards a certain someone.”

You don’t bother holding back the curse as you both leave her tent. “Am I that obvious?”

“Yeaaah. But it’s fine, and I’m rooting for you.”

You look around, searching for the man in question. “Does that mean that everyone…?”

“Think so, yeah.”

“Fuck. Double fuck.” So everyone knows. And Astarion is nowhere to be found. Again. “He’s not here.”

“Wanna tag along to the Inn? Perhaps he’s there?”

You’re not sure you’ll be able to approach him if he’s there but not alone, but then again, there’s probably no use waiting in camp either. “Yes, why not?”

You tell yourself that if he’s not there, you’ll drink one beer — because gods know you need it — and then you’ll head back. It’s been a long day, and even with everything buzzing around in your mind like a swarm of hornets, you’ll probably have no trouble falling asleep the moment your head hits your bedroll.

It turns out that Karlach is right, Astarion is there. You spot him right away, sitting on a barstool, a goblet of wine in his hand. But he’s not alone. He’s sitting very, very close to someone. You can’t see their face, but the way Astarion holds himself, the way he moves his hand to touch their shoulder…

It seems he has found someone else to spend the night with.

As is his right, but the pain is more than you can handle. You won’t stop him, but it’s impossible to stay and watch it happen. The jealousy would break you. As unluck would have it, Astarion chooses that moment to glance over his shoulder, and before you have time to react, he sees you.

Leave. You have to leave. You spin around and flee through the door, almost bumping into one of the Harpers. You’re making a fool of yourself, but you’d rather have that than seeing a smug expression on Astarion’s face.

Half-running towards camp, you decide it’s time to get over yourself. Astarion clearly has moved on — and so should you.

~~~

[mimsynims]

WIP Wednesday

I was going to take a little break from this story, give my mind something different to work on, take a breather, etc.

But instead, my muse said, "Hey, here's a cool scene!"

And so here's a snippet from the next chapter of The Scribe's Tale:

Crowley's hand landed on Aziraphale's shoulder, stopping him short. “Aziraphale, wait. Do not get involved.”

Aziraphale gasped. “I can't simply do nothing.”

“The friar has already painted Newt as her creature. He'll be subject to the same questioning,” Crowley said through gritted teeth. “If you interfere, you'll be accused as well, tarred with the same brush.”

It didn't help that Crowley was right. Aziraphale shook his head, panic swelling. This couldn't be happening.

Crowley squeezed his shoulder. “Look, your best bet is to appeal to the abbot. I'll go to the monastery and...”

“No!” Aziraphale shook his head again vigorously. “The abbot might get Newt out of this mess, as a matter of his authority and pride, if nothing else, but he won't care what happens to Anathema.”

The quarrelling had taken on a sharper note, as Anathema's uncle came trotting across the yard, having just arrived from picking up a load of charcoal. His son, Anathema's cousin, put down the handles of the cart he'd been helping push and followed more warily, eyeing the muttering drovers.

Friar Rufus was almost unbearably smug as he informed the tavernkeeper of his niece's wickedness.

Had someone gone off to look for the sheriff yet? Aziraphale couldn't tell.

“An entire family of evildoers, I shouldn't be surprised to find out,” Friar Rufus said, and as he straightened to his full height, he seemed to grow in stature as he drew the cloak of churchly authority around him. “I well remember, man, how you threatened me last year. And your good wife, I've heard the talk. Visions and portents. Straight from the devil's mouth.”

The tavernkeeper began to look frightened, a flicker of dread in his eyes. The drovers muttered among themselves, glancing about warily as if they wondered if they'd fallen into some kind of witch's den. A few of them crossed themselves.

"A witch, I say," Friar Rufus said, pointing at Anathema again. "She doesn't even deny it."

"Would that actually help?" Anathema said drily, arching an eyebrow. Newt swayed on his feet and closed his eyes.

Anathema's aunt Agnes stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on a cloth, watching with a mild manner.

Aziraphale didn't know how she could be so calm. And why was she nodding at him?

She nodded again, looking a trifle exasperated with him this time, nodding her chin at Crowley.

Aziraphale stared, stood frozen still for half a moment, as a flicker of hope started up within him, then he clutched at Crowley's arm. “You can help them.”

“What?”

“You can! I know you can. You don't understand how wicked the friar is, how corrupt. He was bothering Anathema so dreadfully last summer, until her uncle threatened him, and now you see how Friar Rufus is taking his revenge. He's accusing the entire family. Please, Crowley, you can help them, it's just like in Nottingham.”

“Aziraphale, this isn't some poxy little shire lawman whose nose I can snub! That friar's got the whole of the bloody church behind him. What do you expect me to do, scoop up Newt and Anathema and gallop off with them? The baron'll force me to turn them in before the day's out.”

Aziraphale knew he was asking too much, but he couldn't bear the thought of his dear friends getting dragged off in chains, taken away to be interrogated. Tortured.

He turned pleading eyes on his knight. “Please,” he whispered. “For me. There must be something you can do."