moonselune

[moonselune]

sorry to bother but can i get a rolan depression comfort please please? with tav that struggles with really bad depression. thank you, i love the way you write everyone so much. your work and his story in act 3 has kind of made him a big comfort character for me lol

as someone who does struggle with depression there is absolutely no projecting in this whatsoever, definitely none, hope ur okay nonnie!

cw: angst, depression

Rolan x reader | Darkest Times

The room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of a struggling fire in the hearth. You sat slumped on the edge of the bed, knees pulled to your chest, as if folding in on yourself could somehow make the suffocating weight on your shoulders easier to bear. The world outside might as well not exist—its colors muted, its sounds distant and meaningless. You hadn’t spoken in hours. Eating seemed like an insurmountable task, and even breathing felt like too much.

Rolan entered cautiously, his boots barely making a sound against the worn floorboards. The ever-present pride and sharp wit that usually defined him were muted tonight. He’d seen the signs before, in others, but watching you unravel felt different. It was intimate, raw, and utterly heartbreaking.

He set down the tray he carried—a mug of tea, a slice of bread, and a book he'd charmed to glow faintly at the edges, just in case the light might soothe you. When you didn’t even glance up, his chest tightened.

“Still quiet, I see,” he said softly, attempting a small smile. It faltered when you didn’t respond. “Well, I suppose you’re saving your biting commentary for later.”

Your lips barely twitched, and Rolan sighed, stepping closer. He crouched in front of you, his eyes searching your face. The usual spark in your gaze was absent, replaced by a dull emptiness that twisted something deep inside him.

“Do you know,” he started, his tone quiet but not pitying, “I used to think I had to hold everything together on my own. Lia and Cal—they needed me. They still do. But I’ve had nights like this, where even the idea of standing felt impossible. And I never let anyone see it. I thought it made me weak.”

He reached out tentatively, resting a warm hand over yours, which were clenched tightly in your lap. You didn’t pull away, but your shoulders tensed beneath his touch.

“I was wrong,” he continued, his voice a low murmur. “It’s not weak to feel like this. It’s not weak to let someone care.”

You sniffled, the smallest crack in the wall you’d built around yourself.

“It’s too much,” you whispered, your voice raw. “I can’t—I don’t know how to get out of this.”

Rolan’s hand tightened around yours, his jaw clenching as if he could will his strength into you. “Then let me help. You’ve done so much for me—more than I deserve, really. Let me be here for you now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, and for the first time in what felt like hours, you tilted your head to look at him. There was no judgment in his sharp green eyes, only concern and something deeper—an unspoken determination to shoulder whatever you couldn’t carry.

“I feel so...broken,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “What if I never feel whole again?”

Rolan knelt beside you fully now, taking both of your hands in his.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ve seen your strength, your kindness—even when you thought no one noticed. You are not broken. You are a masterpiece still in progress. And progress isn’t always a straight line.”

You let out a choked laugh, a sound caught between despair and a flicker of hope. “You sound like a self-help book.”

He smirked, the smallest flicker of his usual snark peeking through. “I’m a wizard. I know how to spin a spellbinding tale.”

You laughed again, this time with a bit more warmth. And for a moment, the heaviness eased. It wasn’t gone—it likely wouldn’t vanish overnight—but the way Rolan stayed by your side, unwavering, made it feel a little more manageable.

“I’ll stay as long as you need,” he promised, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “We can sit here in silence, talk about nothing, or I can conjure some ridiculous illusion to distract you. Whatever it takes.”

You nodded, leaning forward until your forehead rested against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close like he was anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Rolan whispered into your hair. “No matter how long it takes.”

And in that quiet moment, with his arms around you and the fire casting soft shadows on the walls, you began to believe him.

this is a bit short as it was quite intense to write it but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[moonselune]

His majesty

[moonselune]

Putting my two cents in with the dark Bg3 kids idea cause it’s really cool. Them healing their collective trauma? not fully, but a start on unlearning their harmful behaviors, having a supportive environment with friends? And over time realizing…

Wow I’m so much happier out here, what’s up with that?

I imagine they’d meet/helping a healthy family or two along the way who kinda offer a little emotional support and it’s kinda eye opening. Or maybe even Karlach finally getting back from Avernus, engine fixed and ready to reunite with the world. And coincidentally meeting all her dearest friends kids and bonding with them, helping them out on their little campaign only to prod for too much info and learn just how bad everything got, that she has no friends to go back to, not like they were before

Please do ! My thoughts have actually been running wild with this au.

Mama K would round them up and be like I am your mother now. Most of them are like, I already have a mother!

And then shad!daughter and Min!daughter are like you can take the other one but mama (tav) is mine.

Could you imagine though how heartbreaking it would be for karlach to tell the daughters stories of their parents, about how they used to be, about the good that they did.

I think particularly, Halsin, Wyll, Shadowheart’s daughters would find it insane.

Astarion’s daughter would straight up think Karlach is lying. Then you have Minthara and Gale’s daughters who are like okay well they just got worse like way worse.

I also love thinking about them as a party. Like I’m thinking Gale’s daughter gathered them together to take their parents down, comes to them as their saving grace and acts with a general air of authority and then Minthara’s daughter is just like stfu and sit down.

Because let’s face it Minthara’s daughter is the most prepared for this. She’s Minthara’s daughter she does not fail at anything. She spent her thirteenth birthday on the surface binding a wound she got from one of the elven villages she burned down and raided.

She immediately makes a list of the hierarchy with little notes and presents it to everyone.

- her (of course)

-Shadowheart’s daughter (trained sharran)

-Halsins daughter (can live off the wildlife just needs to get over blood and gore, good handle on her magic)

-Wyll’s daughter (needs to lose her moral compass, Mizora is the redeeming factor)

-Gale’s daughter (magic can be useful but she has an atrocious handle on it, and that’s if she doesn’t khs)

-Astarion’s daughter (spoilt brat, no survival skills, don’t know how she’s still alive)

Because let’s be real Astarion’s daughter would have never wanted for anything, never felt a single discomfort and suddenly she has to sleep on the dirt and where the same outfit twice. She’s not coping.

Halsin’s daughter “Where I come from a simple thank you would suffice”

Astarion’s daughter “Where you come from people bathe in the river and use pine cones for money.”

Anywayssss gimme your thoughts xoxoxo

[moonselune]

Yes! Dark BG 3 kids on a quest let’s go! As the girls are hanging out and gathering information to help the refugees…..Astarions Castle/ Strong hold!

Astarion: “What do you mean she was with a “Dark Paladin?!” ~Ripping a spawn to pieces-

Spawn 2: “It’s true King of the Night. She came in and slaughtered most of us, so had to flee-“ ~Another dead spawn~

His Tav: ~Drinking another cup of wine as this is going on. Secretly happy.~

Astarion: ~Cleaning his hands in fresh bowl of water being held by a servant~ “I guess it is time to call upon a favor from an old friend.”

Send me more

Bcs I may just write something about this

[moonselune]

hi seluney I love your writing so so much!!

I was wondering if you could write for Wyll, recognizing durge as someone he grew up being childhood friends with until they just disappeared one day? specifically a redeem!durge who's romancing him please! thank you so much!!

omg thank you so much that's so sweet! and yes omg I love this idea!

Wyll x Redeemeed!Durge!reader | Partners Once More

The campfire’s glow cast warm, flickering light on the circle of weary travelers. Shadows danced across your companions' faces, and the low murmur of conversation filled the evening air. You sat a little apart from the group, sharpening a blade you’d salvaged from the last battle. It was a task that required little focus, but it gave you something to do—something to hold onto. Despite the camaraderie that had begun to grow, you still felt the weight of the past clawing at your shoulders like a specter.

You stole a glance at Wyll. The Blade of Frontiers had been quieter than usual, watching you with an intensity that made you uneasy. You two had been stealing glances of each other more recently, the blossoming flirtation between the two of you becoming a steady enjoyment in your travels together. He was usually so quick with a smile or a tale of valor, yet tonight, he seemed… preoccupied. It wasn’t the first time you’d caught him studying you, his dark eyes full of thoughts he didn’t voice.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, Wyll,” you said, setting the blade down and meeting his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

Wyll blinked, as though pulled from a deep reverie. His lips parted, then closed again, and for a moment, you thought he might brush you off. But then he sighed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“There’s something about you,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. “Something… familiar.”

Your heart skipped a beat, a chill running through you. You forced a weak smile. “Familiar? Is that a polite way of saying ‘menacing’? I know I have a certain… presence.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he studied you more intently, his expression a mixture of curiosity and something deeper. “No, it’s not that. It’s the way you carry yourself—the way you try so hard to be better than whatever it is that haunts you. It reminds me of someone.”

Your stomach twisted. You had no memory of your life before the tadpole, only fragments of violence and bloodlust clawing at the edges of your mind. Those urges still stirred sometimes, whispering dark promises, but you fought them with everything you had. You’d vowed to be better, to make amends for a life you didn’t even fully remember.

“Who does it remind you of?” you asked hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wyll looked at you, his dark eyes shimmering in the firelight. “Someone I knew a long time ago. A friend. No, more than a friend—they were like family to me. We grew up together in Baldur’s Gate. They were always… bold. Fierce. But kind, too, in their own way. They always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

A lump formed in your throat as he spoke, each word pulling at a thread in the fabric of your fragile sense of self. You wanted to deny it, to push away the hope blooming in his eyes, but something about his words resonated deep within you.

“What happened to them?” you asked, though you already feared the answer. Wyll’s gaze dropped to the fire.

“One day, they disappeared. Just… gone. No warning, no trace. I searched for them, asked anyone who might’ve seen them, but it was like they’d vanished from the world. I thought… maybe they’d been taken, or worse.” He paused, his voice thick with emotion. “But now I’m looking at you, and I realize they didn’t vanish. They became you.”

You froze, your breath hitching in your chest. “Wyll, I… I don’t remember,” you stammered. “I don’t remember any of it. The tadpole—it took everything.”

His expression softened, though his eyes still searched yours, as if trying to bridge the gap between who you were and who you might have been.

“It’s not your fault,” he said gently. “Whatever was done to you, whatever you’ve been through—it doesn’t change the fact that you’re here now. And that you’re still fighting to be good, even when it would be easier not to.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t know if I deserve your faith,” you whispered. “I’ve done terrible things, Wyll. Things I can’t even fully remember but feel in my bones.”

Wyll reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “And yet you’re here, trying to make things right. That’s more than most people can say.”

You shook your head, overwhelmed by the weight of his words. “How can you be so sure I’m still the person you knew?”

A small, bittersweet smile curved his lips. “Because I see it in you. The way you protect the people around you, the way you fight against the darkness inside. You haven’t lost who you are—you’ve just forgotten. And I’ll be here, however long it takes, to remind you.”

His words unraveled something deep within you, a knot of fear and self-loathing that had kept you at arm’s length from everyone around you. A tear slipped down your cheek, and Wyll reached up to wipe it away, his touch warm and steady.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than you’ll ever know.”

A tentative smile broke through your tears. “I don’t remember who I was, but… if I had you as a friend, I must’ve been lucky.”

Wyll chuckled softly, pulling you into a gentle embrace. “No, I’m the lucky one. And now that I’ve found you again, I’m not letting you go.”

For the first time in what felt like an age, you let yourself lean into the warmth of another person, the weight of your past lifting just enough for you to breathe.

This was so wholesome omg i really wish we had more stories about Wyll's childhood honestly such an underrated character. Hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[moonselune]

Just an idea that popped up into my head as I was thinking about all the Dark BG have kids. Gales kid that he sends to earth is a wizard and crash lands into Halsins grove. His kid is either a Druid or a Ranger. She heals the wizard/ half god and they agree to go on an adventure. Both wanting to see the outside world. Meanwhile, Astarion and his Tavs kid has run away. Wanting to find a ritual to give her father a soul/ reverse the effects of the ritual to finally make her mother happy. There must be a reason how and why her parents fell in love, maybe she can get it back. Possible Rogue class. Mintharas kid is a paladin on a journey and sees Astarions daughter being “attacked” by spawn and decides to help the “lady in distress”. They decide to travel together and Shadowhearts kid is on a mission but got separated from her squad and ran into the half god wizard girl and Druid/ ranger girl, safety in numbers. They all either come upon a tavern town and choose to help eachother with quests or a typical refugee camp trying to escape from Astarions forces. His little princess feels a little guilty and wants to help. Wills kid is already there training everyone on combat…..strange the rogue girl seems too well kept to be an outlaw and her white, long curly locks seem familiar. Did they see eachother at a noble party? (Yes, I always pictured Astarions kid with his white hair.

Bro bro bro my mind exploded yes I love this omg if anyone as other stuff like this please send it in or comment below, I adore this

[moonselune]

Requests! This one is a little specific to my own character and story but I'll send it in anyway.

But the reactions to a reader/Tav who appears to be, and calls themselves a teifling, but is actually a true half devil/chambon(spelling unsure!). And they did not want the others to find out for very valid reasons of being killed or left alone.

oh hells yeah (literally)

Karlach:

The air around the campfire was tense, the warm glow of flames doing little to counteract the icy dread Raphael’s revelation had left behind. His smug grin lingered in your mind, even after he’d vanished, leaving the group stunned and silent.

“You’re not a tiefling,” his voice had purred moments ago, dripping with mockery. “But a cambion. How delightful. Tell me, how does it feel to lie so boldly to the very people who trust you?”

You’d lunged at him, your rage burning hotter than the flames of Avernus itself, but he’d disappeared in a swirl of smoke and laughter before you could lay a hand on him.

Now, the only sound was the crackling fire and the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze. All eyes were on you, but the weight of Karlach’s gaze was the heaviest. Her lips were slightly parted, her fiery eyes wide as if pieces of a puzzle had just clicked into place.

“I knew it,” Karlach finally said, her voice breaking the silence. She ran a hand through her short, wild hair, her tone tinged with equal parts wonder and tension. “I knew there was something… different about you. I just thought I was losing my mind.”

Your heart clenched, dread pooling in your stomach. “Karlach—”

“No, just let me say this.” She stepped forward, her eyes searching yours. “I knew you were pretending to be burned by me before Dammon fixed me up. It didn’t make sense, but I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to believe I could be wrong about you.”

Her words hit like a blow, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. The group around you faded into the background as the moment crystallized between the two of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice quieter now, but no less intense. Your throat tightened.

“Why would I?” you shot back, your tone defensive but tinged with pain. “I’ve heard you, Karlach. I’ve heard what you’ve said about cambions. You’ve never had a kind word for one, not even by accident. So what was I supposed to do? Risk telling you the truth and hope for the best? Best case, you’d walk away. Worst case—” Your voice caught, and you gestured helplessly. “Worst case, you’d try to kill me.”

Karlach flinched as if struck, her fiery core dimming for a moment. Her expression twisted with guilt and something deeper, but you couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. Turning on your heel, you began to walk away, the weight of years of hiding and fear pressing down on your shoulders.

“Hey, wait—no. Stop,” Karlach’s voice rang out, firm and commanding. Before you could take another step, her strong hand caught your arm, spinning you back around to face her.

You braced yourself for anger or rejection, but instead, Karlach’s face was raw with emotion.

“I’d never do that to you,” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Not you. Don’t you get it? I… I love you.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, your heart skipping a beat. You stared at her, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but her fiery eyes held only sincerity.

“You love me?” you echoed, barely able to believe it. Karlach let out a shaky laugh, her grip on your arm tightening.

“Yeah, I do, you big idiot. Do you think I care about what you are? After everything we’ve been through? I don’t care if you’re a cambion, a tiefling, or something else entirely. You’re you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

The tension in your chest began to loosen, a wave of relief crashing over you.

“I thought you’d hate me,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hate you?” Karlach’s laugh was incredulous, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “How could I ever hate you? You’re the best damn thing that’s happened to me since I crawled out of Avernus. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

Unable to hold back any longer, you surged forward, wrapping your arms around her and burying your face against her shoulder. Her embrace was immediate, fierce and grounding, her strong arms holding you close as if she’d never let go.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you murmured against her, your voice muffled but heartfelt.

“It’s okay,” she whispered back, her voice soft but steady. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your heart began to lift. You weren’t alone anymore, and Karlach’s love burned brighter than any fire—enough to light a way forward.

Minthara:

The air around the group was thick with tension, Raphael's sardonic laughter echoing in your mind long after he disappeared. The devil had revealed your secret with theatrical flair, his grin widening as he relished the fallout.

“A tiefling?” he had mocked. “Hardly. You, my dear, are a cambion. How quaint, masquerading among the mortals as one of them. Hiding your true nature, like a wolf pretending to be a lamb. It’s almost endearing.”

Fury had surged through you at his smugness, and you’d lunged at him, claws bared, only for him to vanish in a swirl of crimson smoke. You turned back to the group, your chest heaving, only to meet Minthara’s piercing gaze.

She was furious. No, furious didn’t even begin to cover it. Her crimson eyes blazed with a feral intensity, and her lips curled in a snarl as she stalked toward you, her movements predatory.

“You’ve been a cambion this entire time?!” she hissed, her voice cutting through the uneasy silence like a blade.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Minthara raised a hand, silencing you with a sharp gesture.

“No, don’t even start. Let me understand this—you, a cambion, willingly chose to hide your devilish heritage? To mingle with these lesser beings? To pretend to be one of them?” Her voice rose with each word, dripping with incredulity and frustration. “People should be fearing you, revering you, bowing before your power! And yet, you’ve been skulking around, playing pathetic? Playing mortal?”

Despite her anger, you couldn’t help the small, amused smirk that tugged at your lips. Typical Minthara. She didn’t care that you were supposedly the embodiment of infernal evil. She wasn’t disgusted or horrified. No, her ire was purely about the fact that you hadn’t been owning it.

“I—” you began, but she cut you off again, pointing a sharp finger at your chest.

“Do not dare try to justify this farce to me,” she snapped. “You’ve been hiding your power like some frightened child, and for what? To blend in? To appease these creatures who should be groveling at your feet?”

You raised your hands in surrender, half in an attempt to calm her and half to stifle your growing laughter.

“Minthara, things have been complicated,” you said, your tone placating. “The tadpole changed everything. I had to play along, keep a low profile. I would have been killed in this weakened state. It wasn’t exactly optional.”

Minthara’s gaze narrowed, but some of the fire in her eyes dimmed. She took a step back, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded you.

“Fine. I understand that,” she said, though her tone was begrudging. “But once that parasite is gone, you will drop this act. You will reclaim your place in the hellish hierarchy where you belong.”

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. A deep, genuine laugh that bubbled up from your chest, breaking through the tension like sunlight piercing through clouds. Minthara’s glare sharpened.

“Are you mocking me?” she demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

“No, no,” you said quickly, shaking your head, though the grin on your face remained. “I promise, once this is over, I’ll stop playing mortal. I’ll claim my place, for both of us.”

Minthara’s lips quirked into a predatory smile, her earlier anger shifting into something more possessive, more calculating.

“Good,” she said, her voice a sultry purr. “Not only do you deserve to rule, but I deserve it as well. After all, you are my partner, and what is yours is mine.”

She stepped closer, her fingers tracing along your jawline, her red eyes glinting with wicked delight.

“Don’t make me remind you of that again,” she murmured, her voice a seductive threat.

You chuckled, your hands settling on her waist. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Lae'zel:

The campfire crackled, the warmth doing little to thaw the sudden chill that Mizora’s revelation had brought. Her words hung in the air, sharp and gleeful, cutting deeper than any blade.

“Not a tiefling, no, but something much more… intriguing,” Mizora had drawled, her devilish smirk twisting with delight. “A cambion. How quaint, hiding your true nature. But then again, deception is second nature to our kind, isn’t it?”

Rage surged through you. Without thinking, you lunged at her, your claws reaching for that infuriating smirk. But Mizora, ever the tease, vanished in a puff of sulfur and laughter, leaving you empty-handed and seething.

You turned back to the group, your chest heaving, only to see Lae'zel staring at you with a look that was equal parts confusion and anger. Her amber eyes burned into yours, demanding answers.

“What is the meaning of this?” she snapped, stepping closer, her posture tense and unyielding. “You are not what you claimed to be?”

The others watched in awkward silence, unsure whether to intervene, but you couldn’t focus on them. All you could see was Lae’zel, her expression a storm of betrayal and hurt.

“I can explain,” you started, your voice shaky but resolute. “The group—none of you—would have trusted me if you knew. Cambions don’t exactly have the best reputation. You would have killed or abandoned me.”

Lae’zel’s gaze narrowed, and she stepped even closer, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “You think I care about the others’ trust? About their fragile perceptions? I do not. What I care about is why you did not tell me.”

Her words struck you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you were at a loss. You searched her face, seeing not just anger but something deeper—hurt, vulnerability.

“Lae’zel, I—” you began, but she cut you off with a sharp gesture.

“Do not insult me with excuses,” she snapped. “You thought me too weak to handle the truth? Too insignificant to share your secret with? Am I just another lesser to you?”

“No!” you exclaimed, your voice rising in desperation. “That’s not it at all. I didn’t tell anyone because I was scared. Scared of what they’d think, of what they’d do. And… I didn’t tell you because… because I was afraid you’d see me differently.”

Lae’zel’s expression softened, but only slightly. She tilted her head, her eyes searching yours. “Differently? I am no stranger to infernal blood, to power, to darkness. Do you think I would turn from you because of what you are?”

You hesitated, the weight of your fears pressing down on you. “I didn’t know what you’d think. What if you saw me as a liar? Or worse, an enemy?”

Lae’zel let out a sharp breath, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“I do not care that you are a cambion,” she said firmly. “What I care about is that you did not trust me enough to tell me. You are my partner, my equal. I do not take betrayal lightly.”

You took a step closer, your voice soft but resolute. “It wasn’t about trust, Lae’zel. It was about fear. But you’re right—I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, she said nothing, her gaze locked with yours. Then, with a small nod, she spoke, her tone less harsh but still firm. “See that it does not happen again. You are mine, and I will not be kept in the dark.”

You nodded, relief washing over you as some of the tension between you eased. “I promise.”

Lae’zel’s lips quirked into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Good. Now, let us return to camp before Mizora’s poison lingers too long. And know this—I will be watching you closely, but not because I doubt you. Because you are worth watching.”

Her words warmed you, and as the two of you walked back to the fire, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

Shadowheart:

The campfire crackled softly, casting long, flickering shadows across the clearing as the group settled in after a long day. The air was filled with quiet chatter and the occasional clink of tankards—until Mizora decided to strike.

The devil’s voice cut through the peaceful atmosphere like a blade. Her tone was honeyed, but the malice beneath was unmistakable.

“Oh, what an interesting little secret our dear friend has been keeping,” Mizora purred, a smirk curling her crimson lips. “Not a tiefling at all. No, something far more… illustrious. A cambion, like me! How deliciously deceitful.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and damning. Your heart dropped into your stomach as the group’s attention snapped to you. Anger surged, hot and unrelenting, drowning out the myriad of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Without thinking, you lunged at Mizora, fury written in every taut line of your body.

But, as expected, she vanished in a puff of sulfurous smoke, leaving behind only her taunting laughter. You stumbled to a stop, chest heaving as your rage sought an outlet. Spinning on your heel, you faced the group, already bracing for their judgment.

Shadowheart stood apart from the others, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her silver-streaked hair caught the firelight, making her look both ethereal and grounded—a sharp contrast to the pointed irritation on her face.

Her gaze bore into you, unreadable and intense.

“You’re a cambion,” she said flatly, her voice cold but controlled. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

The accusation stung more than you expected, and your defenses rose like a shield.

“Oh, and you were so upfront about being a Sharran?” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Shadowheart’s expression flickered, a mix of irritation and something softer. Her arms uncrossed, but her stance remained firm.

“That’s not the same,” she said, her voice clipped. “I told you eventually. And I didn’t have to be outed in front of everyone.”

“Sure,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your tone. “Because it’s so easy to walk into a group and say, ‘Hi, I’m half-devil. Don’t mind me, I’m definitely not here to corrupt your souls or drag you to the Hells.’ I’m sure that would’ve gone over great and wouldn't have ended with a dagger in my back.”

Her lips twitched despite herself, and for a moment, you thought she might actually laugh. But instead, she sighed and shook her head, her fingers brushing through her hair in a gesture of exasperation.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, though the irritation in her voice had softened.

“And you’re a hypocrite,” you countered, though there was no real venom in your words. The tension between you had already begun to shift, the sharp edges dulled by the strange, shared understanding that seemed to define your bond.

Shadowheart tilted her head, her expression caught between frustration and amusement.

“I suppose that makes us a perfect match, doesn’t it?” she said dryly, though the warmth in her voice betrayed her teasing.You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you.

“I guess it does,” you admitted, the corners of your mouth lifting into a faint smile. “A Sharran and a cambion—what could possibly go wrong?”

Shadowheart stepped closer, her silver eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Plenty,” she murmured, her voice dropping into a low, teasing tone. “But I think we’ll manage.”

The firelight danced between you as silence settled, comfortable and charged. Then, with a soft sigh, Shadowheart reached out and took your hand. Her fingers were warm against yours, grounding and steadying.

“Next time,” she said quietly, her voice soft but firm, “just tell me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

You hesitated, the weight of her words sinking in. Then, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze, your lips curving into a small, genuine smile.

“Deal,” you said simply.

Her smile in return was faint but genuine, a glimmer of warmth breaking through her reserved exterior. The two of you turned back toward the group, their gazes still heavy with curiosity and wariness. Shadowheart’s presence beside you was a silent reassurance, a reminder that, for all your secrets and fears, you weren’t alone.

Jaheira:

The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the clearing as the group gathered for a rare moment of respite. Conversations ebbed and flowed, but Mizora's smug voice sliced through the calm like a blade.

“Oh, my, what an intriguing little secret to oust,” Mizora drawled, her lips curling into a devilish smirk. “Our dear friend here isn’t a tiefling at all. No, no. A cambion, in the flesh. What a delightful game you’ve been playing.”

The silence that followed was deafening. All eyes turned to you, their gazes a mixture of shock, curiosity, and unease.

Your heart pounded in your chest as anger surged, hot and unrelenting. Without thinking, you lunged at Mizora, but she was gone before you could reach her, vanishing in a puff of sulfuric smoke that lingered mockingly in the air.

When you turned back, your gaze fell on Jaheira. She stood with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable but heavy with thought. For a moment, you expected her to say something—anything—but instead, she shook her head and walked away.

Her retreat cut deeper than Mizora’s reveal. The sting of abandonment, of rejection, seared through you. You stood there, frozen in place, watching as she disappeared into the forest. You knew this would happen and yet it didn't hurt any less.

The minutes ticked by, each one amplifying your frustration and hurt. When Jaheira finally returned, her expression was calmer, her stride deliberate. But the moment you saw her, your annoyance boiled over.

“So that’s it?” you snapped, folding your arms across your chest. “You hear something you don’t like, and you just walk away? From me?”

Jaheira’s brows knit together, a flicker of guilt flashing across her face.

“I needed time,” she said, her voice steady but laced with sincerity. “Time to think.”

You scoffed, your anger mingling with the ache in your chest. “Time to think about what? If I was going to steal your soul?”

For a moment, silence hung between you, thick with tension. Then, Jaheira’s lips quirked into a small, amused smile, and she chuckled softly.

“No,” she said, her voice warm and gentle. “I wasn’t worried about my soul. I was thinking about how you’ve already stolen my heart.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by her words. Jaheira stepped closer, her eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that was both grounding and disarming.

“You infuriate me,” she continued, her tone soft but firm. “You keep secrets, you take risks, and you drive me to the brink of madness. But I love you, more than I ever thought possible.”

The anger that had been coiling in your chest unraveled, replaced by a warmth that spread through you like sunlight breaking through a storm.

“You… you love me?” you said, your voice quieter now, almost disbelieving. Jaheira’s smile widened, and she reached out to cup your cheek.

“Of course, I do,” she said simply. “Cambion or not, you are the person I chose. And I don’t regret that choice for a moment.”

Your throat tightened, emotion swelling within you as you leaned into her touch.

“I love you too,” you murmured, your voice thick with sincerity. Jaheira leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Then let’s not let Mizora—or anyone else—get between us,” she said, her tone gentle but resolute.

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Agreed. But next time, don’t walk away. Talk to me.”

Jaheira chuckled again, a low, warm sound.

“Next time, I’ll try,” she promised. “But you might need to give me a moment to collect my thoughts. You have a habit of throwing surprises at me.”

You laughed softly, the tension between you dissolving. Together, you turned back toward the campfire, hand in hand, ready to face whatever came next—together.

Gale:

“Ah, the stalwart heroes!” Raphael drawled, striding through the inn’s double doors as if he owned the place. His crimson skin and tailored suit practically glowed in the faint light. “So gallant, so brave. And yet, so…deceptive.”

The group bristled, hands inching toward weapons. Shadowheart’s hand hovered near her symbol of Selune, while Lae’zel scowled deeply, her blade already partially drawn. Gale, seated beside you, stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he tracked the cambion’s every move.

“What are you doing here, Raphael?” you snapped, your voice sharp with anger. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

Raphael smirked, his fanged teeth gleaming. “Trouble? My dear, I merely make deals. And speaking of deals…” His eyes flicked to Astarion, who looked away, his jaw tight. “Our little arrangement went splendidly. Isn’t that right, Astarion?”

The vampire spawn didn’t respond, his silence damning. He hadn't heard exactly what he wanted to hear.

“And it did bring to light an intriguing little detail about one of your companions here.” He continued as he turned to you, his smile widening. “Or should I say, one of my kin?”

The room froze. The words hung in the air like a dagger, poised to strike. Your blood ran cold as all eyes turned toward you.

“What are you talking about?” Gale demanded, his voice sharp and incredulous.

Raphael’s smirk deepened. “They’ve been masquerading as a tiefling, but the truth is far more interesting. They’re a cambion—just like me.” He tilted his head, studying you with mock curiosity. “Tell me, does it burn, pretending to be something so…ordinary?”

Fury erupted within you, hot and uncontrollable. You lunged at Raphael, your hand reaching for his throat, but he vanished in a swirl of smoke and brimstone before you could touch him. His laughter echoed through the room, mocking and cruel.

Breathing heavily, you turned back to face your companions. Gale’s expression was a mixture of shock and disbelief, his lips parted as if he were struggling to find the right words.

“Is it true?” Gale asked, his voice tight. “You’re a cambion?”

You swallowed hard, your fists clenching.

“Yes,” you admitted, the word barely more than a whisper.

Gale blinked, as if trying to process this revelation. Then his bewilderment turned to frustration, and he began pacing. “Unbelievable! Truly unbelievable. All this time? You’ve been a cambion this entire time? Do you know how—how staggering this is? The implications, the—”

“Oh, really?” you cut in, your voice rising. “Do you want to talk about staggering implications, Gale? Like, I don’t know, keeping a Netherese ticking time bomb in your chest?”

The words landed like a slap, and Gale froze mid-step. His face reddened, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Fair point,” he muttered. “But still, this is…unexpected.”

His tone softened as he stepped closer to you. “You could have told me,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You should have told me. I would have understood.”

“I didn’t know if you would,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I didn’t know if any of you would. I thought you would leave me for dead.”

Gale’s expression softened further, and he placed his hands gently on your shoulders. “I won’t lie—this is a lot to take in. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re still you. The person I’ve come to care for deeply.”

Your breath hitched, and you allowed yourself to lean into his touch. The tension in your chest eased, if only slightly. After a moment, Gale’s lips quirked into a small, wry smile.

“You know,” he said, a teasing note in his voice, “I think I have a type. First, Mystra—a literal goddess—and now a cambion. Truly, my taste in lovers is nothing short of extraordinary.”

You let out a surprised laugh, some of the weight lifting from your heart. “A cambion you love more than the goddess, I hope?”

Gale chuckled, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oh, without question,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection. “The goddess never made me laugh like you do. Or challenge me. Or steal my heart quite as completely.”

You smiled against his chest, your arms tightening around him. “Good answer,” you murmured.

Astarion:

The cozy interior of Last Light Inn was momentarily at peace, the dim light from the lanterns casting warm shadows on the wooden walls. The group gathered near a table, recovering from their latest trial. Astarion was leaning casually against a chair, sipping some blood he had managed to find with that perpetual smirk on his lips, while you tried to focus on the conversation without getting distracted by him.

Then the doors swung open, and Raphael’s silky, mocking voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy little gathering?” Raphael drawled, his crimson skin glinting under the inn’s dim lights. He strode in with an air of supreme confidence, his piercing gaze scanning the group. “A fine collection of misfits and secrets. Speaking of which..” He turned his attention to you, his smile growing sharper. “I’m here to reveal a rather… salacious secret about your companion.”

The tension in the room became palpable. Everyone’s gaze shifted to you, confusion and curiosity written on their faces.

“What are you on about now?” Shadowheart asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“Oh, nothing too scandalous,” Raphael said, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Just that our dear tiefling here isn’t a tiefling at all.”

The words hit like a thunderclap. The group exchanged bewildered glances, and you felt your heart drop.

“What?” Karlach growled, her eyes narrowing.

Raphael’s smirk widened. “They’re not a tiefling. They’re a cambion. Like me. Infernal blood through and through.” He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “I wonder, how long were you planning to keep that little tidbit hidden?”

Fury surged through you. Before you could think, you lunged at him, but Raphael vanished in a puff of cherry, musk and sulfur, his laughter echoing in the room.

When you turned back to face the group, your chest heaving with anger, your eyes immediately met Astarion’s. His expression was… unreadable at first. Then, slowly, he raised a hand to his chest in mock shock, clutching at an invisible set of pearls.

“A cambion?!” Astarion exclaimed, his voice dripping with dramatic flair. “I simply cannot believe it! All this time, you’ve been walking among us, hiding your true nature? The betrayal! The scandal!”

“Astarion,” you began, but he held up a hand, silencing you with a theatrical gasp.

“Don’t speak! I’m too overcome with emotion. How could I have been so blind?” He staggered back, pretending to reel from the revelation. “To think, I’ve been consorting with the offspring of devils! Oh, the shame! The intrigue!”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Astarion, please.”

He wasn’t done yet. He leaned against the table dramatically, looking at the others. “What will become of us? Can we trust them? Will they lead us into temptation? Or perhaps they’ll summon a horde of demons to devour us all!”

“Astarion,” you said more firmly, your irritation growing.

Finally, he dropped the act, standing up straight and letting out a laugh. “Oh, do relax, darling. I don’t care one bit.”

The sudden shift left you blinking in surprise. “You… don’t?”

He stepped closer, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. “Of course not. If anything, it makes you even more captivating than I already thought you were. A cambion? How deliciously exotic. It explains so much about you—your charm, your fire.” His lips curled into a sly smile. “You’re not just a lover, you’re practically temptation incarnate.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he countered, his voice dropping to a soft purr as he leaned in close. “I must say, I’ve always had a taste for the forbidden.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “I suppose this means you’ll never let me live it down?”

“Never,” he said with a grin, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “But don’t worry. I think you wear your infernal heritage rather well.”

As the rest of the group began muttering amongst themselves, trying to process what had just transpired, Astarion slipped an arm around your waist.

“Come now, darling,” he whispered. “Let’s leave the dramatics to Raphael. I much prefer to focus on the more… enjoyable aspects of your devilish nature.”

Wyll:

The campfire crackled softly at the edge of the Last Light Inn, the warm glow flickering over your companions as everyone settled down for the evening. You leaned against a log, watching the group converse. Wyll was seated beside you, recounting tales of his heroics to an eager Karlach, who hung on every word. The air was light, a rare moment of peace.

Then, the scent of brimstone wafted through the camp, and the air turned heavy. Mizora stepped into the clearing, her elegant yet sinister presence drawing all eyes to her. Wyll immediately tensed, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his blade.

"Ah, my dear Blade of Frontiers," Mizora purred, her smile dripping with malice. "And the rest of you charming miscreants. What a delightful gathering."

"What do you want, Mizora?" Wyll growled, his voice hard.

She sauntered closer, her devilish grin widening. "Oh, nothing too disruptive. I just couldn’t resist sharing a delicious little secret about one of your companions." Her eyes gleamed as they locked onto you. "Tell me, Wyll, do you really think you know the one sitting beside you?"

Wyll frowned, his gaze darting to you briefly before returning to Mizora. "What are you talking about?"

Mizora’s smile turned razor-sharp. "Your so-called tiefling companion isn’t a tiefling at all. They’re a cambion. Like me."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. You felt your stomach drop as every pair of eyes turned to you. Wyll barked a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. "Ha! Very funny, Mizora. But even I’m not gullible enough to fall for that."

But when he turned to you, his laughter faltered. Your expression—tense, uneasy, silent—told him everything.

His eyes widened. "No," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You’re not…?"

Mizora clapped her hands together with a gleeful cackle. "Oh, this is priceless. I’ll leave you all to sort through this delightful mess. Enjoy." With a snap of her fingers, she vanished, leaving the camp in stunned silence.

Wyll turned fully toward you, his face a mixture of disbelief and something close to despair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned loudly, slumping forward as if the weight of the revelation had physically struck him.

"How do I do this to myself?" he muttered, his voice muffled by his hands. "Most people live their entire lives without encountering a single cambion. Me? I’m serving one and now… now I’m lying with another."

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say. Tentatively, you reached out, patting his back awkwardly. "I… I’m sorry, Wyll."

He sighed, lowering his hands to look at you. His expression wasn’t angry, just deeply bewildered. "I mean, what are the odds? Twice? It’s like I’m cursed—or worse, drawn to you infernal types. Why couldn’t I have a nice, simple life like everyone else?"

A small laugh bubbled out of you despite the tension. "Simple doesn’t really suit you, Wyll."

He groaned again, but there was a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You might be right about that." He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. "And you—you really are a cambion?"

You nodded slowly, your heart pounding. "I am. I… I was afraid to tell you. To tell anyone. I thought you’d look at me differently, kill or abandon me. I mean… most people don’t exactly trust devils."

Wyll gave a small, rueful chuckle, shaking his head. "If anything, this just proves how much of a fool I am. Because…" He hesitated, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Because I love you. Cambion or not."

Your breath caught. "You… you love me?"

He groaned again, covering his face with his hand as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said it. "Yes, I do. I must be losing my mind, but I do."

A soft smile spread across your lips as warmth flooded your chest.

"Oh, Wyll…" You leaned forward, cupping his face gently. "You’re not losing your mind. You’re just… you. And I love you for it."

Wyll dropped his hands and looked at you, his expression softening into something tender and vulnerable. He pulled you into an embrace, holding you tightly.

"Blade of Frontiers or not," he murmured, his voice low, "I��m your love first. Cambion or not."

You nestled into his arms, feeling safe despite everything. In that moment, it didn’t matter what you were or what secrets had come to light. You had Wyll, and he had you—and together, you could face anything.

Halsin:

The warm light of the campfire at Last Light Inn cast flickering shadows over your companions as everyone settled for the evening. The atmosphere had been jovial, with laughter and shared stories filling the night air. But that peace shattered when Raphael appeared, his presence commanding and unwelcome. His smirk gleamed in the firelight, his tone smug as he addressed the group.

“Well, well, dear adventurers,” Raphael began, his voice dripping with amusement. “It seems secrets abound in your merry band. Shall I share one, free of charge?”

Everyone tensed, weapons instinctively shifting closer. Your blood ran cold as Raphael’s gaze landed squarely on you.

“Oh, don’t look so startled,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “It’s not as though I’m revealing anything that you’ve been forthcoming about. Tell me, my dear tiefling… or should I say cambion?”

Your heart plummeted, the air around you thick with tension.

“You bastard,” you hissed, launching yourself at him, but Raphael merely snapped his fingers and vanished in a swirl of smoke and brimstone.

You landed hard on the ground, seething with fury and shame. When you looked up, the weight of your companions' stares bore down on you. Most faces were unreadable—shock, confusion, maybe even suspicion. But your gaze immediately sought Halsin, your newly kindled love.

He stood stoic, arms crossed over his chest, his brow furrowed in thought. His silence was deafening, and panic surged through you. Scrambling to your feet, you rushed to him, desperation in your voice.

“Halsin, please, you have to understand,” you began, your words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t choose this. I didn’t choose to be born a cambion. I swear to you—I’ve only ever done what I needed to survive.”

His gaze was steady, but he said nothing, his silence fueling your growing fear.

“I have no warlocks,” you continued, your voice breaking. “No thralls, no imp army, nothing like that. I’m not like them. I’ve tried so hard to—” You stopped, choking on your words as tears began to blur your vision. “To be good. To do good.”

Your hands trembled as you clutched the front of his tunic, your voice cracking as you whispered, “Please, Halsin, I—I can’t lose you.”

He sighed deeply, the sound grounding you for a moment as his large hands came up to gently cradle your face. “Enough,” he said softly, his voice calm but firm. “Breathe.”

You hiccupped, trying to steady yourself, but the tears wouldn’t stop. Halsin’s thumbs brushed them away, his touch warm and soothing. His expression softened, and he leaned down so his forehead nearly touched yours.

“I believe you,” he said simply.

You froze, your breath hitching. “You… you do?”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice steady and full of conviction. “I see no malice in your heart, no darkness that you haven’t already fought to overcome. I only wish…” He hesitated, his gaze searching yours. “I only wish you had been the one to tell me.”

Guilt twisted in your chest. “I was afraid,” you admitted in a whisper. “Afraid of how you’d look at me, what you’d think. That you may kill me for what I am."

His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you into his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a grounding rhythm against your ear.

“You need not fear me,” he murmured. “What you were born as does not define who you are now. And who you are, I love.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and you clung to him, the weight of your emotions spilling over.

“I hate him,” you muttered against his chest. “Raphael. I hate him for this.”

Halsin chuckled softly, a low rumble in his chest. “As do I,” he agreed. “He delights in chaos, but we won’t let him win. Not here, not now.”

He held you close, his embrace strong and unyielding. Slowly, the panic ebbed, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the strength of his belief in you.

This was so fun to write and icl in one of my runs i had my tav as a cambion romancing minthara just because i think that dynamic is just so fun. Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[moonselune]

howdy ho and happy new year! i'm in love with your writing. may i request some quality cuddling time with the female companions, especially with jaheria as tav's mother?

Happy New Year! Thank you so much for!! Unfortunately, requests are closed at the moment but feel free to send this in when they are back open x

[moonselune]

Can I say that your post about Neve from Dragon Age is such a mood? I understand exactly how you feel. I went into Dragon Age Veilguard thinking I'd go for Lucanis, and while I do love Lucanis it was Emmerich of all people who ended up capturing my heart. It was him calling me darling that did it for me. (Same goes for Astarion now that I think about it. He called me Darling and My Sweet, and bam it was all over for me.) It always ends up being the characters you least expect who end up running away with your heart.

I actually adore Emmerich like he's so cute but not as cute as Manfred

[moonselune]

the link to your redbubble doesn't work. :( takes me to the tumblr website.

Me and redbubble fist fighting fr rn

[moonselune]

I'm sorry to hear about the hard times you've been having. It seems like so far 2025 has been a bit of a rough start for a lot of folks, but we have a whole lotta year left for things to improve. I hope things get better for you real soon

Thank you so much and yes that is so true we can only go up! I wish you a very happy new year and for everyone else that may also feel like it's already been a bit of a struggle remember this^^

[moonselune]

Hey bb I hope you're doing well 💗 and Happy New Year!

Aww thank you so much! Happy New Year and I hope you are doing amazing xox

[moonselune]

"why does she also have me acting up" easy answer: it's Isabela

She really does, and now that I have finished my first run of Veilguard I fear I may have to do my next run as a lord of fortune just for her

[moonselune]

Heyo! Just popping in to ask if the Teacher Minthara fic will make a comeback? Loving everything you write, by the way total fan here! xoxo

It will make a return though I promise I was even playing around with a drafted chapter!

[moonselune]

hey I wanted to send a request about the bg3 ladies discovering readers sensitive spot but I‘m not sure if it came through since my internet was really bad? 🥺

It did not come through but this did and I think this is perfect as revenge for the ladies after the biteable ear request aha

Karlach:

The trail was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind and the crunch of boots against dirt. You and Karlach had been ahead of the group for a while now, waiting for the eternally slow Gale and Astarion to catch up. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled patterns on the ground, and in the calm of the moment, Karlach had taken the opportunity to pull you into a cheeky little makeout session.

Her lips were warm—no, scorching—against yours, her body pressed close as her arms wrapped around your waist. Her hands roamed your back, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft hum of contentment. She grinned against your mouth, her teeth lightly grazing your bottom lip before she pulled back to look at you.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you teased, trying to catch your breath.

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her grin growing wider. “And you’re not?”

Before you could respond, her lips found a spot just beneath your jawline, a little to the side, and something unexpected happened. You let out an involuntary noise—a cross between a gasp and a whimper, utterly adorable and undeniably salacious. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as Karlach froze for a second, then pulled back to look at you with wide, delighted eyes.

“Oh,” she said, her voice dripping with mischief. “What was that?”

“N-nothing,” you stammered, trying to step back, but Karlach’s strong arms kept you firmly in place.

“Nothing, huh?” she mused, leaning in closer. “I think I just found something interesting.”

“Karlach, don’t—” you began, but it was too late. Her lips were back on that spot, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there, and you couldn’t stop the noise that escaped you. It was the same sound as before, and Karlach’s grin against your skin was downright wicked.

“Stop it!” you whispered urgently, trying to squirm out of her hold. “They’re going to catch up any second now!”

Karlach pouted dramatically, though her fiery eyes were still dancing with amusement. “Oh, come on, you’re no fun. Just one more—”

“No!” you protested, putting a hand on her shoulder to fend her off. But Karlach was relentless, leaning in again with mock innocence, her lips brushing your sensitive spot once more. Another involuntary noise slipped from you, and this time it was followed by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat.

You froze, your heart sinking as you turned to see Gale standing a few feet away, his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face. Behind him, Astarion wore his signature smirk, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.

“Don’t stop on our account,” Astarion drawled, gesturing lazily with one hand. “This is far more entertaining than anything Gale was rambling about earlier.”

Gale shot him a glare before looking back at you and Karlach. “Perhaps next time, you could save the amorous displays for when we’re not trying to traverse dangerous terrain.”

Karlach let out a booming laugh, unabashed as ever. “Sorry, Gale,” she said, though the grin she shot you was anything but apologetic. “Guess we got a little carried away.”

You buried your face in your hands, groaning in mortification.

“I told you they’d catch up!” you hissed at her. Karlach just shrugged, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close.

“Worth it,” she murmured in your ear, her grin as wide as ever.

As the group started moving again, Astarion sidled up to you, his voice low and dripping with mirth.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “that noise you made? Positively delightful. I might even be a little jealous.”

You shot him a glare, but his laughter trailed behind him as he strode ahead, leaving you to try and regain your composure.

Minthara:

The air between you and Minthara was thick with tension and heat, the playful sparring of dominance as electric as the charged atmosphere of a battlefield. Your lips clashed with hers in a heady dance, each of you vying for control, her sharp nails grazing your shoulders as your hands gripped her waist with equal fervor. There was a delicious push and pull to it, neither willing to yield but both relishing the challenge.

Minthara let out a low growl against your lips as you nipped her lower one, pulling her closer. But she was nothing if not resourceful. Her hands slid to your neck, tilting your head ever so slightly as her lips trailed downward. You had little time to anticipate what she was planning before she pressed a kiss to a spot just below your jawline, where your pulse thrummed steadily.

Your body betrayed you immediately. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips, and you faltered, your grip on her waist loosening just enough for her to notice. Minthara froze for the briefest of moments, and when you glanced up at her, her red eyes were gleaming with unrestrained delight.

You pushed her off, taking a step back as you raised a finger, fixing her with a warning glare.

“Don’t you dare,” you said, your tone firm despite the heat still rising in your cheeks.

Minthara’s lips curved into a wicked smile, her fangs peeking through as she tilted her head like a predator who had just found a new weakness in their prey.

“Oh, my love,” she purred, her voice a mix of amusement and triumph. “How delightful.”

You turned, trying to put some distance between the two of you, but Minthara was faster. Her hands gripped your wrist and waist, spinning you back to her with a forceful tug that had you colliding against her.

“Going somewhere?” she teased, her tone dripping with mock innocence.

“Minthara,” you began, a weak protest, but she cut you off by leaning in, her lips brushing over that same sensitive spot again. The shiver that coursed through you was uncontrollable, and you hated how easily your body betrayed you. Another whimper escaped, this one louder, and Minthara chuckled, low and sultry, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“Ah, there it is again,” she murmured, her lips lingering as her hands tightened their hold on you. “So sweet. So vulnerable. Do you think you can hide this from me now?”

You tried to push her away again, but the strength in her grip—and the unyielding press of her body against yours—made it clear you were at her mercy. Not that you could complain, not really. Especially not when she tilted her head to get a better angle and kissed the spot again, and your knees threatened to give out entirely.

“Minthara,” you gasped, your voice shaky as you clung to her arms for balance.

“Yes, my love?” she replied sweetly, though the smirk on her lips made it clear she was anything but innocent.

“You’re evil,” you managed, though the words lacked any real bite.

“And you revere me for it,” she countered, her voice brimming with confidence. She leaned in once more, her lips ghosting over your neck before she captured your mouth again, her dominance in full display now that she had you so thoroughly at her mercy.

And, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t exactly mind.

Lae'zel:

The private sparring session had left you both breathless, sweat glistening on your skin as you and Lae'zel faced each other in the secluded training ground. The clatter of swords and the grunts of exertion had long given way to something else entirely—a different kind of intensity, one born of passion rather than combat.

Lae'zel had pinned you down in the final moments of your match, her body pressing against yours, her wild grin triumphant. What began as a taunt over her victory quickly escalated as her lips found yours, fierce and unyielding. The heat between you was undeniable, and before long, the lines between sparring and intimacy blurred entirely.

Her lips trailed along your jawline, down to your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Then, as if guided by instinct, she found it—the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. The noise that escaped you was half gasp, half whimper, completely involuntary and utterly revealing.

Lae'zel froze for a moment, her sharp gaze locking onto yours. You braced yourself, certain she was about to tease you mercilessly, perhaps mock you for such a "weakness." But instead, she sat back slightly, her expression thoughtful and serious.

"You must keep this spot guarded," she said firmly, her golden eyes narrowing. "It is a vulnerability. An enemy who finds it would have undue advantage over you."

You blinked, caught entirely off guard.

"Lae'zel," you began, your tone both baffled and amused, "I don't think I need to worry about an enemy getting close enough to discover that spot, let alone knowing what to do with it."

Her frown deepened, the warrior in her unwilling to dismiss the matter.

"Complacency breeds defeat," she said sternly. "If I found it, others could as well. You should practice evasion—"

You couldn’t help it. You laughed, cutting her off mid-lecture. Her earnestness, while endearing, was misplaced in this particular context. You reached up, your fingers brushing her cheek as you leaned in to kiss her. The contact silenced her, her lips parting against yours as the fervor between you reignited.

When you pulled back, your grin was playful, and you could see the faintest hint of a blush on her usually stoic face.

"How about I make it my mission to find your sensitive spot instead?" you teased, your voice low and full of promise.

Lae'zel raised an eyebrow, the spark of challenge returning to her gaze.

"You may try," she said, her tone filled with the kind of daring that only fueled your resolve.

"Try?" you echoed, leaning in closer, your lips just grazing hers as you whispered, "Oh, I'll do more than try, Lae'zel."

And with that, the sparring session took a decidedly different turn.

Shadowheart:

The battlefield was a cacophony of noise—clanging steel, guttural cries of goblins, and the occasional victorious roar from Karlach. You and Shadowheart had found yourselves in a relatively quiet alcove, shielded from the chaos, though you both knew it wouldn’t last long. Lae’zel and Karlach had the goblins under control for now, giving you and Shadowheart a rare moment to steal for yourselves.

Shadowheart’s back was pressed against the rough stone wall, her lips locked with yours in a fervent kiss that felt almost scandalous amidst the battle. Her hands gripped the front of your armor, pulling you closer as if the world could crumble around you and she wouldn’t care so long as you stayed right there.

It was in the heat of this stolen moment that Shadowheart, seemingly guided by instinct or devilish intent, let her lips trail along your jawline before finding the spot just beneath your ear. The effect was immediate. A tiny, utterly unguarded squeal escaped your lips, your body stiffening at the unexpected jolt of sensation.

Shadowheart pulled back slightly, her lips curving into a wicked smile.

“Oh, what was that?” she teased, her voice a low purr that sent a shiver down your spine.

You tried to regain your composure, shaking your head as if to dismiss it, but her grin only widened as she leaned in again, clearly intent on exploiting her newfound discovery. Her lips brushed the spot once more, and this time, you couldn’t suppress the soft, involuntary sound that escaped you—a mixture of surprise and helpless delight.

The noise, however, was louder than either of you intended, echoing out into the chaos. A cluster of goblins, distracted by the commotion, turned their attention toward your alcove. Shadowheart noticed them first and let out a sharp sigh.

“Look what you’ve done,” she chided, though there was no real heat in her words.

“Me?” you protested, fumbling for your weapon. “You’re the one who started this!”

Before either of you could argue further, the goblins rushed forward, but they proved no match for the two of you. With quick, practiced movements, you dispatched them all, leaving the alcove strewn with their fallen forms.

As you wiped your blade clean, a shadow loomed behind you. Lae’zel’s scowl was enough to make you stand a little straighter.

“Are you so undisciplined,” she snapped, “that you cannot focus even amidst a battle? A moment’s distraction could cost lives!”

Shadowheart, ever quick-witted, raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“I was simply administering medical attention,” she said, her tone prim and proper, though the faint smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “It’s hardly my fault they found it… distracting.”

Karlach, who had joined Lae’zel, snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter.

“Oh yeah,” she said through her chuckles, “looked like real thorough medical attention to me. Sure you weren’t checking their… vitals?”

You groaned, your face heating as Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Shadowheart, however, seemed unbothered, her smirk growing as she gave you a sidelong glance.

“Let’s hope the next battle doesn’t require quite so much… care,” Lae’zel grumbled before stalking off.

As Karlach followed, still chuckling, Shadowheart leaned in close, her voice low and teasing in your ear. “You squeal so adorably. Perhaps next time, I’ll see what other noises I can coax from you.”

You shot her a playful glare, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed your amusement. “Not in the middle of a battle.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, her smirk now entirely victorious as she turned and strode off to rejoin the others.

Jaheira:

The camp was alive with the buzz of Jaheira’s fellow Harpers, strategizing and organizing as they prepared for the next phase of their operations. Amidst the activity, you’d managed to steal her away under the guise of needing her counsel on something urgent. It wasn’t entirely a lie; you did need her—but not for strategy.

You led her to a quiet spot under the boughs of a large oak tree, far enough from prying eyes and ears. Jaheira had crossed her arms, giving you a skeptical look, but the faintest hint of a smile betrayed her amusement.

“You are nothing if not persistent,” she muttered, though she made no effort to leave.

“Persistent enough to get you alone,” you quipped, stepping closer and resting your hands gently on her hips. She rolled her eyes, but when you leaned in to kiss her, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she melted into it, her hands slipping up to rest on your shoulders as she returned your affection.

The kiss deepened, growing more fervent as the moments stretched. Her fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer with a surprising intensity that made your pulse quicken. Despite her earlier protests, Jaheira was nothing if not passionate, and her hunger matched your own as you lost yourselves in each other.

But then, in a moment of teasing exploration, Jaheira’s lips trailed to your jawline and down to the curve of your neck. Her attention lingered at a particular spot, and when her lips brushed it, a soft, helpless sound escaped you before you could stop it. The sensation was electric, and your reaction was immediate—your body stiffened, and your breath hitched.

Jaheira froze for a moment before pulling back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“What was that?” she asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Nothing,” you lied, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “Just caught me off guard.”

“Hmm.” Jaheira’s gaze lingered on you, and a sly smile spread across her face.

Without warning, she leaned in and pressed her lips to the same spot again. The jolt of sensation was just as powerful, and this time, a soft, involuntary whimper escaped you.

“By Silvanus,” she murmured, her voice a low, amused growl. “You’ve been hiding this from me.” Her eyes gleamed with a mixture of delight and frustration. “If only I had more time with you—I would make you regret ever revealing this weakness.”

You laughed, though your voice was still slightly breathless. “I didn’t exactly reveal it. You’re the one who went snooping.”

Jaheira scoffed, her hands tightening on your shoulders as she looked at you with mock exasperation. “Snooping, you say? I call it careful reconnaissance. A skill you should appreciate.”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Careful reconnaissance, huh? What exactly do you plan to do with this newfound knowledge?”

Her lips twitched in amusement, but then her expression softened.

“Sadly, nothing at the moment,” she said with a sigh, glancing back toward the bustling camp. “Duty calls, as always. But don’t think for a moment that I’ve forgotten.”

You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Forgotten what?”

She raised an eyebrow, her fingers trailing lightly over the sensitive spot on your neck, making you shiver.

“This,” she said simply, her voice low and teasing.

You couldn’t suppress the soft laugh that bubbled up, though you quickly caught her hand in yours to stop her.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, your voice warm with affection.

Jaheira leaned in for one last kiss, her lips lingering on yours before she finally pulled away.

“You are an infuriating distraction,” she said, her tone affectionate despite the words. “But I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, she turned and walked back toward the camp, leaving you standing there with a smile on your face and the faint, lingering warmth of her touch on your skin.

This was so fun to write and I really hope you guys enjoyed it! -Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[moonselune]

Okay but why does she also have me acting up

Guys why is my ass so predictable

I bought bg3 for Astarion, ended up romancing Shadowheart on my first run

Bought veilguerd with interest in Lucanis and now obsessed with this queen

[moonselune]

companions and drunk reader crying and cuddling with scratch + owlbear :33

I did this set at the reunion party because for some reason I thought that was part of the prompt but hey ho, some fluff to warm our souls and brighten us up during this darkside of the year <3

Karlach:

The reunion party was in full swing, the lively hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. Music played from a makeshift ensemble, and the scent of roasted meat and ale mingled with the crisp night breeze. You and Karlach had been inseparable for most of the evening, both of you reveling in the joy of being free from the hellish grasp of Avernus - even if it was a brief respite. Friends surrounded you, their faces lit with genuine smiles—a rare luxury in the trials you’d all endured together.

But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Karlach found herself chatting animatedly with Wyll and Gale about some shared escapades. It wasn’t until a lull in the conversation that she noticed your absence.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the crowd. Where had you gone? You’d been right beside her just moments ago. Her heart sank slightly as her mind played through the possibilities, but then she noticed a faint commotion near the far side of the camp, where the light of the bonfire barely reached.

Curiosity and concern prompted her to investigate.

As she approached, Karlach was met with a sight that was both hilarious and heartwarming. There you were, sprawled on the ground, your cheeks flushed from too much drink, nestled comfortably between Scratch, who was contentedly licking your face, and the owlbear cub—no longer a cub but still unmistakably affectionate. The owlbear had draped itself partially over your lap, its massive body radiating warmth, while you murmured incoherent endearments and occasionally giggled.

“You are such a good boy, Scratch,” you slurred, scratching behind the dog’s ears with one hand while your other patted the owlbear’s soft feathers. “And you—big ol’ fluff monster—you’re my second-best friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Scratch, though.”

The owlbear let out a low, rumbling coo, and Scratch wagged his tail enthusiastically.

Karlach leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, and just watched you for a moment, her expression softening. The firelight caught in her amber eyes, reflecting the warmth she felt in her chest. After everything you’d been through—fighting, surviving, struggling—it was moments like these that made it all worthwhile. Seeing you so carefree, surrounded by creatures who adored you, filled her with a quiet contentment.

“Well, well,” she drawled, stepping closer, her voice laced with affection. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve already gone and replaced me with fur and feathers.”

You looked up at her, blinking owlishly, and broke into a wide, dopey grin. “Karlach! Join us! There’s so much love here, it’s like… like a cuddle explosion!”

She chuckled, her heart melting a little more. “A cuddle explosion, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s the best kind of dangerous,” you declared, patting the ground beside you.

Karlach didn’t need much convincing. With a theatrical sigh, she dropped to the ground beside you, her warm body pressing against yours. Scratch immediately climbed into her lap, while the owlbear shuffled closer to include her in its feathery embrace.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and tender, “I think this might be the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“‘Cause I’m with you,” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder. “And Scratch. And Big Fluffy. It’s perfect.”

Karlach wrapped an arm around you, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“You’re perfect, babe” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minthara:

The reunion party was a raucous affair, the camp alive with laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional outburst of song. Minthara had joined reluctantly at your insistence, her usual composed demeanor barely hiding the faint amusement she felt as she observed the chaos.

The Drow paladin rarely indulged in such frivolity, the two of you had an Underdark to conquor afterall, but tonight she allowed herself to linger, even engaging in a deep conversation with Astarion, who had recently returned to the Underdark to settle down.

As the two shared dry wit and sharp banter, Minthara’s keen eyes darted across the camp, instinctively searching for you. When she realized you were nowhere in sight, she narrowed her eyes.

"Where has that fool wandered off to now?" she muttered under her breath, much to Astarion’s amusement.

“Ah, love,” Astarion quipped, a sly smirk on his lips. “It makes us chase after them even when we’d rather not.”

Minthara rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. She excused herself, muttering something about responsibility, and began to search for you. It didn’t take long—muffled giggles and low, rumbling noises led her toward the outskirts of the gathering. There, illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight, she found you sprawled on the ground.

You were nestled between Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it had long since outgrown the 'cub' moniker—and were clearly the drunkest she had ever seen you. Your face was flushed, your hair mussed, and your arms were wrapped tightly around the two creatures as if they were your most precious treasures.

“Listen,” you whispered conspiratorially to the owlbear, though your volume defeated the purpose. “We’re gonna take over the Underdark. Me, you, Scratch, and Minthara. She’s so scary and smart. We’ll rule everything. But don’t tell her—it’s a secret plan.”

Minthara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she approached.

"A secret plan, is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock disdain. “Taking over the Underdark with a dog and an owlbear? Truly, you’re a visionary.”

You looked up at her with wide, bleary eyes, your face breaking into a sloppy grin.

“Minthara! You found me!” you exclaimed, holding out a hand. “Join us! It’s a cuddle coup.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, though there was a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, turning to walk away.

But before she could take a step, you staggered to your feet with surprising agility for someone so far gone. With a triumphant shout, you lunged at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down to the ground.

Minthara yelped in surprise, glaring daggers at you as she landed unceremoniously on the grass.

“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, but her anger quickly gave way to resignation as Scratch and the owlbear cub immediately joined in, nuzzling against her.

She froze, her normally stern expression softening as Scratch licked her cheek and the owlbear rumbled contentedly. She didn’t push them away, though she grumbled, “You’ve turned me into a damned pillow.”

You beamed at her, your face close to hers as you slurred, “You’re the best pillow ever. And the best everything else. I adore you, Minthara. You, Scratch, Owlie—you're all my favorite.”

Her cheeks darkened with a faint blush, though she refused to acknowledge it.

“You’re drunk,” she said curtly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.

“And in love,” you replied with drunken sincerity, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but Minthara didn’t pull away. She sighed, her hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a moment before she let it fall.

“I'm going to kill you,” she muttered, though her tone was more affectionate than irritated.

You grinned, nuzzling against her like a contented cat. “I can't wait.”

Minthara rolled her eyes, though a small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of her mouth. As Scratch and the owlbear settled around you both, she resigned herself to her fate, lying back against the grass and letting the warmth of the moment wash over her.

Perhaps you were impossible. But you were hers.

Lae'zel:

The reunion party was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of mugs. You’d coaxed Lae’zel into attending, promising her that Xan, your precious hatchling, would be fine under the watchful eyes of Voss and the rebels - who were surprisingly more than happy to look after him. Though she had reluctantly agreed, you noticed her gaze drifting toward the camp’s perimeter now and then, her brows furrowed with that familiar Githyanki intensity.

“Relax, Lae’zel,” you teased, nudging her gently. “Xan is fine. Tonight is about us.”

Lae’zel gave you a skeptical glance but said nothing, her hand brushing against yours briefly—a rare public display of affection from her that made your heart swell. For a while, the two of you enjoyed the festivities, sharing drinks and banter with your companions. But as the evening wore on and the wine flowed more freely, you became… well, significantly more inebriated.

At some point, Lae’zel turned to speak with Wyll, who was recounting one of his latest exploits. When she turned back, you were gone.

Her jaw clenched as she scanned the crowd, her warrior instincts kicking in despite the harmless nature of the gathering. She stomped through the camp, muttering curses under her breath as she searched for you.

“You couldn’t stay in one place, could you?” she growled.

It wasn’t long before she heard familiar, albeit slurred, murmuring. Following the sound, she found you sprawled on the ground near the campfire, flanked by Scratch and the now nearly full-grown owlbear cub. Tears streamed down your face as you hugged the animals close, stroking their fur and feathers.

“I love her so much,” you sobbed into Scratch’s neck. “And Xan. Xan is perfect. Perfect little hatchling.”

Lae’zel froze, her expression caught between exasperation and disbelief. She crossed her arms and glared down at you. “What are you doing, fool?”

You looked up at her, your face lighting up with drunken joy.

“Lae’zel!” you cried, holding out your arms. “You’re here! You’re so amazing, and strong, and—hic—beautiful. I love you.”

Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose, her shoulders heaving with a deep sigh.

“You are worse than Xan when he is hungry,” she muttered. Turning her attention to the animals, she pointed toward the river. “Drag this mess into the water. Perhaps it will sober them up.”

Scratch tilted his head, his tail wagging, while the owlbear let out a soft, rumbling croon. They looked at her, clearly uninterested in complying.

You giggled, stroking the owlbear’s feathers. “They like you, Lae’zel. They know you’re the best. Everyone knows you’re the best.”

Lae’zel’s irritation flickered, her lips pressing into a tight line as she fought to suppress the small smile threatening to emerge.

“You’re insufferable,” she declared, but there was no venom in her tone.

At her words, you burst into fresh tears. “Xan is so lucky to have you as a mom. I’m so lucky! How did I get so lucky?”

Lae’zel knelt beside you, her movements stiff but deliberate as she pulled you upright and into her arms.

“You’re drunk and ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but steady.

You wrapped your arms around her, clinging tightly. “But I love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

Lae’zel let out a small, exasperated sigh, but she didn’t push you away. Instead, she adjusted her grip, holding you firmly against her.

Her fingers brushed against your hair as she murmured, “You are fortunate I have patience tonight.”

You snuggled into her embrace, your tears finally subsiding as warmth and exhaustion took over. Though her expression remained stoic, a faint, hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She did love you, she loved Xan, and the feathered and furred beasts weren't too bad either.

Shadowheart:

The reunion party was a vibrant celebration, a gathering of friends, companions, and allies, each reveling in the hard-won peace after so many battles. You and Shadowheart stood together, hand in hand, sharing a quiet joy amid the merriment. The news that the owlbear cub—now a formidable but still affectionate creature—would be coming back to your farm had filled you both with delight. The prospect of a peaceful life on your little slice of the countryside, surrounded by Scratch, the owlbear, your other small army of animals and each other, was everything you’d dreamed of.

You’d both mingled, laughed, and shared drinks, but at some point, Shadowheart turned to grab another bottle of wine, only to find you had disappeared. Her brow furrowed, though she didn’t panic. You weren’t exactly subtle when you were drunk, and it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of your voice, rising in animated, tearful elation.

When she finally found you, Shadowheart couldn’t help but pause, her arms crossing as she observed the scene before her. You were seated on the grass near the campfire, Scratch pressed against your side, his tail wagging lazily, while the owlbear nestled on the other side, its feathers ruffled as you gently stroked its beak.

“And you’re gonna love the farm,” you slurred, gesturing wildly with the bottle in your hand. “There’s fields to run in, and soft places to sleep, and you two—” you sniffed, your voice breaking slightly as you turned to the animals— “are gonna be so happy. So loved.”

The owlbear let out a deep, contented rumble, and Scratch licked your cheek, which only made your drunken tears flow harder. Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smile.

“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” she said, stepping into the firelight.

Your head snapped up, your face lighting up as if you’d seen the sun itself.

“Shadowheart!” you cried, scrambling to your feet only to stumble and flop back onto the grass. “You’re here! Come here, come here—cuddle pile!”

Shadowheart sighed but couldn’t suppress her amused grin as you reached out for her.

“You’re hopeless,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She approached and allowed herself to be pulled down into the pile of fur and feathers, the owlbear shifting to make room for her as Scratch barked happily.

“This is the best night ever,” you declared, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so happy, Shadowheart. We’re gonna have the best life. You, me, Scratch, and this big feathery baby.”

She shook her head, laughing softly as she snatched the bottle from your hand.

“You’ve had enough,” she said, taking a swig herself. The wine burned pleasantly as it went down, and she let out a contented sigh. “Though I suppose I can’t argue with your enthusiasm.”

As the night wore on, Shadowheart found herself caught up in your infectious joy. She joined in on your rambling talks of the future—of gardens you’d plant, adventures you’d take, and all the little moments of happiness waiting for you both.

“You know,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned her head against your shoulder, “I think you’re right. This is going to be a good life.”

Your only response was a drunken hum of agreement, your arms tightening around her as the warmth of the fire, the animals, and each other enveloped you both. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect. Everything was going to be perfect.

Jaheira:

The reunion party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as friends and allies celebrated the peace you had all fought so hard to achieve. You and Jaheira stood together for much of the evening, your hand occasionally brushing against hers in a quiet intimacy. She was radiant in her element, speaking with old friends, trading stories of past battles, and offering wisdom to those who sought it.

At some point, she became engrossed in a conversation with Halsin, the two of them naturally drawn together by their shared love for nature and nurturing. Their talk turned to the orphans Halsin had come to care for, and Jaheira, with her ever-compassionate heart, shared tales of her own tendency to adopt and guide wayward children.

“I suppose I can’t help myself,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps it’s the druid in me, or perhaps just the mother.”

Halsin nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s a noble trait, Jaheira. The world is better for it.”

But as Jaheira began to share another story, she realized something: you were no longer at her side. She scanned the crowd, her brow furrowing in mild irritation.

“Speaking of wayward children,” she muttered under her breath, excusing herself from Halsin with a polite nod. “Now where have you wandered off to?”

It wasn’t hard to track you down; she simply followed the faint sound of sniffling and tearful rambling. What she found made her stop in her tracks, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.

There you were, sprawled on the grass near the fire, clutching Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it was hardly a cub anymore. The owlbear sat with a dignified sort of calm, its feathers ruffled from your clumsy affection, while Scratch lay happily across your lap, his tail wagging lazily.

“And you guys,” you sniffled, gesturing to the animals with the bottle still clutched in one hand, “you’re the best. I love you so much. You’re good boys. The best boys.”

Jaheira approached, shaking her head as she took in the sight of you, your face red from tears and wine.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, though her voice held a note of amusement. You looked up, your tear-streaked face lighting up at the sight of her.

“Jaheira!” you cried, holding your arms out dramatically. “You’re here! Come cuddle with us!”

“Cuddle?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Darling, you’re drunk.”

“I’m emotional,” you corrected, your voice wobbling as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “And you have to cuddle with us, or—or I’ll never forgive you! Ever!”

Jaheira sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead as though trying to muster the patience of a saint.

“You are worse than Halsin's orphans,” she teased, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her tone. “And that’s saying something.”

Your lip wobbled, and you clutched Scratch tighter.

“Please,” you whimpered, the plea so earnest and pitiful that Jaheira couldn’t help but laugh.

“All right, all right,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “If it means that much to you.”

She knelt beside you, allowing you to pull her into the chaotic cuddle pile. The owlbear gave a soft hoot, adjusting its position to include her, while Scratch wagged his tail even harder at her presence.

“See?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her as you leaned heavily against her shoulder. “This is nice. Isn’t it nice?”

Jaheira let out a long-suffering sigh, though a smile tugged at her lips as she rested her head against yours.

“You’re ridiculously impossible,” she said softly. “But yes, this is… nice.”

For a while, the two of you sat there, surrounded by warmth and fur and feathers. Jaheira found herself relaxing despite the absurdity of the situation, her arm slipping around your waist as she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she murmured. You hummed happily, nuzzling into her shoulder.

“I know,” you slurred, the wine making your voice thick. “And I love you, too. So, so much.”

Jaheira chuckled, shaking her head as she tightened her hold on you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” she said fondly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Gale:

The reunion party buzzed with energy, laughter and conversation flowing freely among friends old and new - thanks to Minsc's addition. You and Gale were nestled in a quieter corner of the celebration, a glass of wine in your hand and Gale gesturing animatedly with his own as he launched into an impassioned tale about his latest trials as a professor at Blackstaff Academy.

“…and would you believe it? One of the students thought it prudent to attempt wild magic on their first evocation test! I spent half the afternoon dispelling chaos and putting out fires—literal fires—and the other half explaining why summoning imps in a classroom was hardly conducive to learning.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his work. His passion was endearing, and yet… a mischievous thought crept into your mind as you caught sight of Scratch wagging his tail nearby, the owlbear cub—no longer quite a cub—lounging lazily beside him.

When Gale paused to take a sip of his wine, you saw your chance.

“Fascinating,” you said quickly, standing and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be right back, love.”

He blinked, caught off guard but easily reassured by the peck. “Oh, certainly. Don’t wander too far.”

You didn’t answer, instead making a beeline for the animals. A few moments later, you were leading Scratch and the owlbear cub away from the main gathering, giggling to yourself as you went. An hour later, Gale finally noticed your absence and set off to find you.

He tracked you down by the sound of your voice, soft and teasing as you lounged in a quiet grove just beyond the party. There you were, sprawled on the grass with Scratch snuggled into one side and the owlbear cub resting its heavy head on your lap. Your cheeks were flushed with drink, your eyes glassy with a mix of affection and mischief.

“And Gale,” you slurred, stroking the owlbear’s feathers as if imparting some great wisdom, “wanted to be a god. A god! Can you believe it? Silly Gale. He doesn’t need to be a god. He’s already… already my god. My love, my life…” Your voice dropped conspiratorially, and you hiccupped. “But he would’ve been a prick as a god. Don’t you think?”

“Do you think so?” Gale’s amused voice cut in, and you turned your head to see him standing there, arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at his lips. You gasped dramatically.

“Gale!” You grinned at him, patting the grass beside you. “Come here! Join us! Cuddle!”

“I think not,” he said, though the smile on his face betrayed him. “Someone has to ensure you don’t declare my divine candidacy to the owlbear.”

Your grin wavered, and you pouted, your bottom lip trembling as your eyes filled with exaggerated tears.

“You won’t cuddle with me?” you sniffled, your voice wobbling. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Gale’s resolve crumbled instantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

With a dramatic flourish, you opened your arms wide. “Then get over here, Professor Dekarios!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the laughter bubbling in his chest as he lowered himself to the grass beside you. Scratch immediately wriggled over to press against his side, while the owlbear gave a satisfied huff and shifted to accommodate him. You threw your arms around him, nuzzling into his chest as if he were the most comfortable pillow in the world.

“See?” you murmured, your voice soft and content. “This is perfect. My god. My Gale.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I suppose there are worse fates than being your god. Though next time, perhaps less wine and more water.”

You hummed in agreement, already half-asleep against him. Gale shook his head, his heart full as he tightened his arms around you and let the peaceful moment wash over him.

Astarion:

The reunion party was in full swing, with the warm glow of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. You and Astarion had arrived arm-in-arm, though the two of you quickly found yourselves mingling with different groups. Astarion had gravitated toward Minthara, the two of them caught in an animated conversation about how you and he had adjusted to life in the Underdark—a topic Astarion spoke of with a surprising fondness.

You, however, had been immediately distracted by Scratch, whose wagging tail and joyful demeanor were too much to resist. You’d spent some time tossing a stick for him before finding the owlbear cub—now fully grown—lounging nearby. One thing led to another, and soon enough, you’d wandered off, leaving Astarion none the wiser.

When he finally noticed your absence, it was only because Minthara raised an eyebrow mid-conversation. “It seems your partner has… disappeared.”

Astarion sighed, his eyes scanning the crowd. “They do tend to wander, don’t they? One moment they’re here, the next, they’ve likely befriended every stray within a ten-mile radius.”

It didn’t take him long to find you. The sound of your drunken sniffles and delighted murmurs led him to a quiet corner of the grove, where you were sprawled on the grass, your arms wrapped around Scratch and the owlbear cub. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes glassy, and you were mid-sentence in what appeared to be an earnest declaration.

“You’re just… so cute,” you hiccupped, scratching the owlbear behind its feathered ears. “Both of you. The cutest. I don’t deserve you. Nobody does.”

Astarion stepped closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he crossed his arms.

“Well, well, what have we here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “The drunkest I’ve ever seen you, cuddling animals and crying over their cuteness. Truly, a sight to behold.”

You looked up at him, your expression a mix of delight and indignation.

“It’s not my fault!” you exclaimed, sitting up—though the effort made you wobble. “Scratch… Scratch has been fetching me wine!”

Astarion raised a skeptical brow, his smirk widening. “Scratch has been fetching you wine? Darling, I taught you to lie better than that.”

You gasped, clutching Scratch protectively. “Are you calling me a liar? Scratch would never let me lie. He’s too good, too pure!”

The dog wagged his tail innocently, clearly pleased with the attention. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he moved to sit beside you.

“Yes, yes, Scratch is the pinnacle of virtue. Now, move over before you collapse completely.” He pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You immediately snuggled into him, still hiccuping slightly as you continued to pet the animals.

Just as Astarion was starting to feel truly settled, Scratch suddenly trotted off.

“And where are you going, you furry little enabler?” he called after the dog. Moments later, Scratch returned, tail wagging proudly as he carried a bottle of blood in his jaws. Astarion’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and then he laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Well, I’ll be damned. He really is a very good boy.”

He took the bottle from Scratch, patting the dog’s head affectionately.

“My apologies, my love. It seems you weren’t lying. Who would have thought Shadowheart’s greatest contribution to our journey all those months ago was teaching this beast to fetch drinks?”

You giggled, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Told you so. Scratch is a genius. The cutest genius in the whole wide world.”

"And what about me, am I not cute?" Astarion asked in mock offence as he brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face.

"Not as cute as Scratch and Owlbear but you try -hey give me back my wine!" You whined as Astarion took your bottle from you, brows raised, suggesting you try again. You huffed and rested your head on his shoulder looking up at him with big wet doe eyes. "You are not as cute, because you are twice as beautiful."

"I don't know if that makes sense, but I'll take it." He said, giving you back your wine with a small smile. He would have taken it off you, you really were the drunkest he had ever seen but your so-called 'wine' was actually water, Scratch really was a genius.

Wyll:

The reunion party was in full swing, a mix of old friends, laughter, and the clinking of glasses raised high in celebration. The air buzzed with the joy of shared victories and the promise of futures finally free of hardship. You and Wyll had spent much of the evening together, arm in arm, swapping stories and indulging in the abundant wine. It was a rare, beautiful moment to simply be—no battles to fight, no worlds to save.

For Wyll, the sight of you laughing and glowing with life was a reward all its own. But as the hours ticked by and the wine loosened tongues and inhibitions alike, you had somehow slipped away.

It wasn’t unusual. You had a penchant for wandering when the drink took hold of you, curiosity leading you to wherever your heart fancied. Wyll, ever patient and knowing, only chuckled to himself when he realized you were gone. After excusing himself from a lively conversation with Halsin and Minsc, who were subtley trying to out-brag the other (nothing had changed there) he set out to find you, his long strides carrying him through the grove as he kept an ear out for your familiar voice.

It didn’t take long. He followed the soft sound of sniffling to a secluded patch of grass where the moonlight spilled down like a spotlight. There, nestled between Scratch and the owlbear—no longer a cub but still affectionately devoted—you sat, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you buried your face in the owlbear’s feathers.

“They’re just… so cute,” you murmured, your voice thick with drunken emotion. Scratch’s tail thumped happily against the ground, clearly basking in your attention, while the owlbear tilted its head in quiet curiosity.

Wyll stopped, the sight making him blink in surprise. His hand rose to cover the grin tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my love,” he said softly, his voice tinged with both amusement and affection. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and the moment your eyes met his, a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Wyll!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as though his very presence was a miracle. “You’re here! And you’re so… so cute!”

Wyll blinked, momentarily startled, before laughter rumbled low in his chest.

“I’m cute, am I?” he asked, kneeling beside you. His grin widened as he took in the wine bottle lying haphazardly nearby and the glassy, adoring look in your eyes.

“Yes!” you wailed, throwing your arms out dramatically. “Your smile is cute, and your horns are cute, and your eyes are cute, and your hair is cute!” You punctuated each word with a hiccupping sob, your hand waving wildly as if to emphasize your point.

Wyll’s brows lifted in amusement, though his gaze softened with love.

“I see the wine has been particularly generous with you tonight,” he teased, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so… unbearably adorable. Shall I tone it down?”

“No!” you exclaimed, clutching his hand as though the idea was unthinkable. “Don’t stop being cute! It’s the best thing about you—no, wait.” You gasped as though struck by a revelation. “Everything about you is the best thing!”

Wyll let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You are truly something else,” he said, his voice warm as he reached out to steady you. “Even when drunk, you’re determined to flatter me into blushing.”

Your lip wobbled, and you suddenly looked utterly distraught.

“Even your boots are cute,” you whispered, as though it was the most profound truth you had ever spoken.

That was enough to undo Wyll completely. He laughed, full and unguarded, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.

“Alright, alright,” he said gently. “I’ll take responsibility for being impossibly charming.”

You sniffled, your tears slowing as the exhaustion of the evening began to creep up on you. With a soft hiccup, you slumped forward, burying your face in his chest. Wyll’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close as he stroked your back.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” he murmured, though his tone held no irritation—only affection. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The owlbear gave a low croon and leaned in, its head nuzzling against Wyll’s shoulder as though to share in the moment. Scratch let out a soft bark of agreement, his tail thumping against the ground. Wyll chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“You’ve managed to rally quite the crowd,” he said softly, glancing down at your peaceful face. But when you didn’t respond, he realized you had fallen asleep, your breath even and steady against his chest.

“Oh, my heart,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “What am I to do with you?”

Carefully, he adjusted his hold and scooped you into his arms. The owlbear and Scratch followed as he carried you back toward the firelight of the party. Wyll’s steps were steady, his gaze warm as he looked down at you. Even in your drunken, tearful mess, you were his mess.

And he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Halsin:

The reunion party was nothing short of spectacular. Lanterns hung from the ancient trees, casting soft, golden light over the gathering. Music and laughter mingled with the sounds of the old faithful camp at night, a serene backdrop to the revelry. You had started the evening with Halsin, both of you basking in the joy of seeing friends and allies together again. It was a rare chance to relax, to celebrate the life you had built after the chaos.

Halsin was soon drawn into a conversation about the orphans you and he had taken in. A circle of the more compassionate companions had gathered around him, captivated as he spoke about the children’s growth, their joy, and the home you were creating. His deep voice carried over the crowd, filled with pride and hope. You stood beside him for a time, sipping wine and listening, but your attention was eventually caught by a familiar sight—Scratch wagging his tail and the owlbear, now fully grown, ambling nearby.

"Look at them," you murmured, already swaying slightly as the wine took hold. "Two perfect, fluffy creatures, and they need my attention."

With a mischievous smile, you slipped away, weaving your way through the crowd, wineglass in hand. By the time Halsin realized you were gone, you had already disappeared into a quieter part of the grove. He smiled to himself, fondly amused, and excused himself from the conversation.

“She’s probably plotting something,” he said with a chuckle, following the faint sound of your voice.

It didn’t take long to find you. Beneath a sprawling oak, you were sprawled on the grass, cuddling Scratch and the owlbear. You had an almost-empty bottle of wine in one hand, your other arm draped dramatically over the owlbear’s shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a bit disheveled, and your voice carried through the night as you spoke with exaggerated fervor.

"Listen here, Scratch," you said, poking his nose gently with your finger. "And you, too," you added, pointing to the owlbear, who blinked at you with wide, curious eyes. "You’re coming home with me. No arguments. It’s decided. We’re a family now."

Scratch barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground. The owlbear hooted softly, tilting its head as if contemplating your declaration.

You nodded solemnly, taking another swig of wine.

"Halsin might say no, but don’t you worry." You leaned in close, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that was anything but quiet. "I have my ways of convincing him. Very persuasive ways." You wiggled your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, giggling at your own implication.

Then, as if struck by the sheer emotional gravity of the moment, your voice wavered, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"But if that doesn’t work," you said, your words thick with feeling, "I’ll just cry! Like this!" You dramatically buried your face into Scratch’s fur, letting out a loud, theatrical sob.

From the shadows, Halsin watched, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips. Finally, he stepped forward, his voice warm and steady. “Tears, my heart, will not be necessary.”

You froze, your head snapping up to look at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Halsin!" you exclaimed, scrambling to sit up and almost tipping over in the process. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago," he replied, crouching down beside you. "Long enough to hear your… strategy."

You waved the bottle in his direction, sloshing a bit of wine onto the grass.

"It’s a good strategy," you insisted, pointing at him with exaggerated authority. "Very effective."

Halsin chuckled, his large hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I’m sure it is," he said indulgently. "But I assure you, no convincing is necessary."

“What about the other thing?” you asked, your voice dropping into a clumsy attempt at sultriness that only made Halsin laugh more.

“When you’re sober,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You turned back to Scratch and the owlbear, lowering your voice to a loud whisper. “See? I told you it would work. He may be Daddy Halsin, but we all know who the real daddy is.”

Halsin’s brows shot up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest. “Do we now?” he asked, scooping you into his arms with practiced ease.

You clung to him, your head resting against his broad chest as you continued to mumble incoherently about your master plan.

"Fluffy family forever," you declared, nuzzling into his tunic.

Scratch barked again, wagging his tail enthusiastically, while the owlbear lumbered after you both. Halsin shook his head fondly, his smile softening as he looked down at you.

“You are a marvel,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As he carried you back toward the heart of the party, you sighed contentedly, your arms tightening around his neck.

“You’re the best, Halsin,” you murmured, your words slurring but full of affection. “The absolute best.”

“And you,” he replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “are an utter wonder.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I worked quite hard on it and it was quite a good distraction. Love you all - Seluney xox

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