#[minthara voice] a joke

[bogappreciation]

"making minthara easier to recruit removes the incentive to do an evil playthrough" "wahh minthara isn't unique anymore" if you want minthara to sit on your face you still need to murder the tieflings. outta my way zevlor im gonna get it

[ilikedetectives]

I'm all ears about bottom Minthara.

I keep thinking how nice it would be if there was a second scene for her romance when you reach act 3 and get together with her. And for it to be softer and more tender in comparison to the scene at the goblin party. I desperately need it and to have Tav take care of her please

I'm so normal about bottom Minthara, not because of the smut, but it shows her ultimate trust in Tav as their relationship evolves from Act 1 to Act 3. Given what she's been through, it's understandable for her to want to be in control, because let's be honest throughout the centuries under Lolth and then the Absolute, when was the last time her mind was her own for her to make a choice, for herself? (hint: "Tonight, I wanted this - for myself.") So for her to willingly trust Tav to let that go, even just for a few moments. Alurlssrin is unselfish, deep, unbreakable love, but do you know what Tav is? Tav is her tri âm tri kỷ (know the sound, know the self) in both romantic and platonic ways, do you understand?!?!?!? Her scars are invisible and Tav is the only one who sees through them, that is why she only cares for how Tav sees her through their eyes *go outside and scream*

Between "Tonight there will be no voices, no orders, no gods... I belong only to you." (Act 2/3) and "Minthara is my home." in the epilogue, I'd say there's nothing but soft between them as time goes on and it gets softer as each night passes.

The dream is a very soft romance scene after "I belong only to you." which is a total contrast to Act 1 (bonus is including the alurlssrin dialogue during aftercare). I wish Tav could also comfort her after saving her from Orin because that level of trauma coming back, ooof.

[pitchmoss]

my mutuals changing their urls one after the other

who are you people.

[blackjackkent]

@astreamofstars suggested my next dive into the parsed dialogue files should be looking at the various Vicious Mockery lines available for player characters, and the ways the different companion character VAs speak them. This turned out to be quite challenging, as there are a LOT of them!

There are a total of 97 unique Vicious Mockery lines, each of which was recorded by all ten companion character VAs PLUS all twelve custom character VAs, for a total of 2,134 recorded lines, which is wild. (This is not including Ethel's 60 unique Vicious Mockery lines as well, which brings the total to 2,194.)

In this video, I've collected all 97 VM lines across all ten companion VAs, along with notes (where applicable) on things like

references to Shakespeare (or other pieces of media)

places where BG3 continues a time-honored tradition of the series by butchering archaic English grammar

interesting inconsistencies between the VAs or with the written dialogue

(If you notice any references I missed, please let me know and I might edit the video! :D )

In making this video, I ended up listening to all these lines a LOT, and I do love that some definite patterns emerge which are very on-brand for the characters in question.

Astarion often sounds deeply disdainful and at times almost bored. He barrels through some of the lines as if he doesn't think the recipient of his insult is even worth his time. (Also him calling someone a "parchment-pallored villain" is a bit rich, don't you think? :P )

Gale is deeply pleased with his own cleverness and laughs at his own jokes.

In my opinion, Dave Jones by far most Understood The Assignment; Halsin bellows out the lines like a Shakespearean actor playing to the back row and really relishes the language.

Jaheira is in full mother-tiger voice and clearly ready to kick ass and take names; she's not messing around. (With one exception - I have been laughing over Tracy Wiles's reading of "Mouthier than an arse, twice as full o' shite" for the entire duration of this project, because solely for that line she sounds like she's been possessed by some unknown force and is utterly baffled by the words coming out of her own mouth.)

Karlach reads most of these lines as either battle-cry or schoolyard taunt and seems utterly delighted in both cases. I enjoy that she adds a fun roll on her r's to sound all mockingly fancy.

Lae'zel generally sounds like she's about to rip someone's throat out and often seems completely oblivious to the humor involved, even on lines like the delightful pun, "As the leg, you'll end in defeat."

Minsc definitely doesn't know what most of these words mean but he makes up for it in enthusiasm. I enjoy that "Mouthier than an arse" becomes "mouthier than a butt" only for him. XD

Minthara, like Lae'zel, is mostly not coming at this from a place of amusement; she's MAD. She sounds like a judge handing down sentence in the most disdainful manner possible. (That said, she has my favorite deliveries on some of the lines with timing-related humor: "Thou art saucy... as gruel," "Thine eyes! Pools of tepid piss," "Like a summer's day... thou art sweaty," etc.)

Shadowheart just sounds deeply offended that her target is existing anywhere near her. She's practically spitting on all her plosive consonants and it's delightful.

Wyll sounds remarkably fierce given how nice a dude he is, but a lot of his lines have some righteous indignation (appropriate for a former noble and the Blade of Frontiers) - or he just sounds like he pities his opponent. His reading of "It vexes me to know of you" is my favorite of the whole cast; he just sounds so disbelieving of his target's stupidity.

Overall I think my favorite of these lines is towards the end: "Your body's a temple - to an idiot god!" All ten companions really stick the landing on that one. :D

Thanks for watching! Hope you enjoy.

(Got requests for other investigations into BG3 dialogue? Drop me an ask and let me know! )

[moonselune]

Fainting in front of the BG3 ladies

Karlach:

You should have said no to the sparring session, but Karlach looked so excited to train with you and you hadn't been able to spend some quality time with her due to all of Baldur's gate needing something from you. So you agreed, you may have been running on three hours of sleep total for the past four days and you hadn't eaten since - who knows when? But you agreed.

You barely managed a jab in before you were conked out on dirt floor taking an involuntary nap. Karlach had caught you and thought perhaps you were just joking around with her.

"Okay soldier, if you wanted to tap out you could've just told me- Soldier? Babe!?"

Karlach shook you fervently and when you still didn't respond to her she called out to the rest of the camp as if you had just taken 10 arrows to the chest.

"My Gods- Halsin stop petting that rat and fucking help them!" She shouted and the druid flinched before nodding his head, abandoning his new friend and coming to Karlach's side, your form cradled in her arms.

"I believe they've just fainted-"

"-THEY"VE DIED HALSIN PLEASE SAVE THEM" Karlach shouted as she lay you down onto the nearest bedroll, disgruntling the resident vampire. Halsin quickly got to work, letting a warm glow emit from his hands as he assessed you.

"I just need to-"

"-HALSIN PLEASE-"

"-Karlach it will-"

"-I CAN"T LIVE WITHOUT THEM-"

"-Karlach please, just-"

"-I'M TOO YOUNG TO BE A WIDOW-"

"-You're not even married-"

"-HALSIN!-"

"What is going on?" You groggily spoke as Halsin helped you up, only for you to be pinned back down by an emotional tiefling.

Karlach's arms wrapped around you tightly, tears streaming down her face as she buried her head in your chest. "I thought I'd lost you," she whispered, her voice trembling. You could feel her heart pounding through her clothes. She was running hot - hotter than usual.

Halsin chuckled softly, patting Karlach on the shoulder. "They're fine, Karlach. Just exhausted, it seems our leader has been neglecting themselves in their endeavour to save us all."

With a mix of relief and embarrassment, you patted Karlach's back gently, kissing her cheek. "I'm okay, really. Just... need a bit of rest."

Karlach finally loosened her grip, her eyes red but filled with determination. "No more skipping meals and sleep, got it? I need you in one piece."

You nodded, smiling weakly. "Got it."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the camp. You had been trying to hide your exhaustion, the result of relentless nightmares that plagued your sleep night after night. You feared Minthara would see you as weak if she knew, so you kept your struggles to yourself.

Tonight, however, the lack of rest finally caught up with you. As you walked back to your tent after a long day, the world began to spin, and darkness crept in from the edges of your vision. Before you could call for help, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Minthara, who had been sharpening her blade nearby, noticed immediately. She was at your side in an instant, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she called out, her voice sharp with concern. She knelt beside you, her hands gently cradling your head. You slowly regained consciousness, your vision blurry as you looked up at her.

"Minthara," you murmured weakly, trying to sit up.

"Stay still," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. She examined you carefully, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. "What happened?"

You hesitated, not wanting to reveal the truth, but the look in her eyes told you she would accept no evasions.

"I… I've been having nightmares," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I haven't been sleeping well."

Minthara's expression softened, though a flicker of frustration crossed her features. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, her voice gentler now. "Did you think I would see you as weak?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't want to worry you. I thought I could handle it."

Minthara sighed, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "You are strong, my love, but even the strongest need help sometimes. I would never think less of you for struggling."

You looked up at her, relief flooding through you. "I'm sorry, Minthara. I should have told you."

She shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips. "It's alright. Just promise me you won't hide things like this from me again."

"I promise," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. Minthara helped you to your feet, her arm wrapped securely around your waist.

"Come," she said, guiding you back to your tent. "You need rest, and I will ensure you get it."

Inside the tent, Minthara helped you settle down, her touch surprisingly gentle. She sat beside you, her presence a comforting balm against the lingering fear from your nightmares.

"I will stay with you tonight," she said firmly. "And every night, if you need me."

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. "Thank you, Minthara. I feel safer with you here."

She squeezed your hand gently. "And you always will be. Now, rest. I will watch over you."

As you closed your eyes, the last thing you saw was Minthara's reassuring smile. Her presence beside you banished the shadows of your nightmares, and for the first time in weeks, you felt the promise of a peaceful sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The aftermath of the battle was a chaotic flurry of movement and sound, but you had managed to keep your injury hidden from Lae'zel. You knew how she valued strength and feared her reaction if she knew you were hurt. You gritted your teeth and pressed on, hoping the pain would subside.

But as you walked towards the camp, your vision began to blur, and each step felt heavier than the last. You stumbled, clutching your side as a wave of dizziness washed over you. Before you could call out, your legs buckled, and you collapsed to the ground.

Lae'zel, always vigilant, was by your side in an instant. Her eyes widened with a mix of fury and concern as she knelt beside you.

"Y/N!" she barked, her voice filled with a rare edge of panic. "What happened?"

You struggled to focus, the pain in your side sharp and unrelenting. "I… I didn't want to worry you," you managed to say, your voice weak. "I got hurt in the battle."

Lae'zel's eyes flashed with anger, but her hands were gentle as she inspected your injury.

"You fool!" she hissed. "Why did you not tell me? Do you think hiding your pain makes you stronger?"

You winced, both from her words and the pain. "I thought you would think less of me," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lae'zel's expression softened slightly, though her anger was still evident. "You are a warrior, Y/N, but even warriors can fall. Hiding your injury only makes things worse."

She carefully helped you sit up, her hands steady and sure. "Where does it hurt?" she demanded, her eyes scanning your body for the source of your pain.

You pointed to your side, where the wound throbbed painfully. Lae'zel's eyes narrowed as she examined it. "This needs to be treated immediately," she said, her voice firm. "You should have told me sooner."

"I'm sorry, Lae'zel," you said, feeling a wave of guilt. "I didn't want to be a burden."

Lae'zel shook her head, her expression a mix of exasperation and concern. "You are never a burden," she said, her voice surprisingly soft. "But you must trust me enough to share your pain."

She helped you to your feet, her arm wrapped securely around your waist to support you.

"Come," she said, guiding you back to the camp. "We will get this wound treated, and then we will talk about your foolishness."

As she helped you settle down, Lae'zel's demeanor was a mix of anger and tenderness. She fetched the healing supplies and began to tend to your wound with practiced efficiency.

"You need to be more careful," she scolded, though her touch was gentle. "I cannot protect you if you hide things from me."

"I understand," you said, wincing slightly as she applied a healing salve. "I won't hide anything from you again."

Lae'zel's eyes met yours, her gaze intense. "See that you don't," she said, her voice softening. "I care for you, Y/N. Do not make me worry needlessly."

You nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude and affection. "Thank you, Lae'zel. I won't let this happen again."

She finished bandaging your wound and sat back, her expression softening further.

"Rest now," she said, her voice firm but kind. "I will watch over you tonight."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The night air was cool and calm, but inside, your mind was anything but. The relentless night terrors had taken their toll, wearing you down night after night. You tried to push through the fatigue, not wanting to worry Shadowheart with your troubles. However, your body had reached its limit.

As you walked back to your tent, a sudden wave of dizziness overcame you. The world around you blurred, and before you could call out for help, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Shadowheart, who had been tending to a small fire nearby, noticed immediately. She rushed to your side, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she cried out, kneeling beside you. Her hands shook slightly as she checked your pulse and breathing, relief washing over her when she found both steady.

Even though you were unconscious, she couldn't help but scold you. "What were you thinking?" she muttered under her breath. "You should have told me if something was wrong. How could you be so reckless?"

When you finally came to, you found yourself lying on your bedroll inside your tent. Shadowheart was sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of worry and frustration.

"Y/N," she said, her voice stern but tinged with relief. "You're awake."

You managed a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, Shadowheart. You look worried. Did something happen?"

She didn't seem amused. "Don't you dare joke about this," she snapped, though her eyes were soft with concern. "You've been pushing yourself too hard, haven't you?"

You sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "I've been having night terrors," you admitted. "I didn't want to worry you."

Shadowheart's expression shifted to one of frustration. "You idiot," she said, her voice trembling. "Do you think I wouldn't want to know if you're suffering? Do you think I don't care?"

You reached out to touch her hand, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm sorry," you said softly. "I just didn't want to burden you."

Shadowheart shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "You could never be a burden to me," she said, her voice cracking. "But seeing you like this… it hurts. You have to promise me you won't keep things from me again."

"I promise," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand. She sighed, wiping away a tear.

"Good," she said, her tone softening. "Now, rest. I'll stay with you tonight."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The battle had been intense, and in the aftermath, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the others. You had sustained an injury but had hidden it from Jaheira, not wanting to bother her. However, the pain and exhaustion that were catching up with you had other ideas.

As you walked towards the camp, a sharp pain shot through your side, and the world around you started to spin. Before you could call out, your vision went black, and you collapsed to the ground. Jaheira, ever vigilant, noticed immediately. She rushed to your side, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, kneeling beside you. She quickly assessed your condition, her hands gentle but efficient.

"You're a fool," she muttered, though her voice was thick with worry. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?"

When you finally regained consciousness, you found yourself lying on a makeshift bed inside your tent. Jaheira was sitting beside you, her expression a mixture of relief and frustration.

"Y/N," she said, her voice firm. "What were you thinking?"

You managed a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, Jaheira. My dearest, darling love-"

She didn't seem amused by your attempts at seduction.

"Don't you dare try that," she snapped, though her eyes were soft with concern. "Not after this,"

You sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "I didn't want to worry you,"

Jaheira's expression shifted to one of frustration. "You damned fool," she said, her voice trembling. "Do you think I wouldn't want to know if you're hurt? Do you think I do not care?"

You reached out to touch her hand, trying to offer some comfort. "I'm sorry," you said softly. "I just didn't want to burden you."

Jaheira shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "You could never be a burden to me," she said, her voice cracking. "But seeing you like this… it hurts. You have to promise me you won't keep things from me again."

"I promise," you said sincerely, squeezing her hand. Jaheira glared at you but raised her clasped hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to it. "I love you, Jaheira."

"I love you too, you may be a fool," Jaheria sighed, placing your clasped hands back to your side. "But at least you are my fool."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Another part of my silly series whilst I am away (wish me luck guys). Hope you enjoy it - Seluney xox

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for dumping a guy because of a throwaway comment to my friend? (TW: NSFW statements)

I'm using BG3 character names for this because I don't want to use letters. The name assignments have nothing to do with personality, it's based off of an inside joke.

Important characters- Me, 18ftm. My S/O, Minthara, 21ftm. My friends (Halsin- 22m, and Astarion- 22neu)

I started dating Minthara a few months back. A month or so before we started dating, and a month after I turned 18, I introduced Minthara to my D&D group (Halsin DMs, and Astarion is one of the players.)

Halsin and Astarion are in a long-term relationship, and because my home life... sucks, to be frank, they're basically my surrogate family.

It's important to note that I am a CSA survivor. They've known me since I was 16, know I'm uncomfortable with sex talk most times, and am an incest survivor. I'm really grateful I have them, and when I introduced Minthara, it seemed like everything was going perfectly. He got along with everyone super well, aside from a few hiccups and bumps.

However, yesterday-as-of-writing this, we were talking about our D&D characters for a campaign Minthara wasn't present for, one we were thinking of adding him to once it got off of hiatus.

Astarion is a big fan of a certain character. Jokingly, I asked if that character and their D&D Character would get along. Minthara jumped in and stated that he thought the comfort character would eat the D&D character's ass.

I cannot state enough that this was out of nowhere, and made Astarion very uncomfortable. They and I tried to play it off and continue the conversation, and Halsin deleted the message in the discord. We checked in in a separate discord server, and Halsin brought up he was a little concerned.

Minthara is very sexual. As in, before we started dating, he sent me NSFW-explicit-noncon art of his D&D character sexual. I know he's recovering from purity culture/deconstructing, so I never minded other than asking him not to try and show his porn art to my D&D group with no warning and to stop talking about his kinks in public when we were out on dates, but when he did it to Astarion I was a little disconcerted.

One thing led to another, and a lot of friends are telling me to leave him. But on the other hand, he genuinely does love me. He's very romantic, and when we spend time together IRL I always come out feeling happy. My mom likes him, and I've met his parents, and I don't want to break his heart or anything. He sends a lot of long voice messages comparing me to nice things and talking about how much he loves me.

I don't want to hurt him, but I also don't want to be with someone who treats my friends like this- this isn't an isolated incident, just the first time it's affected someone other than me.

[messiahzzz]

the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

[trappedinafantasy37]

I couldn't stop thinking about Minthara planting night orchids in her garden as she genuinely thinks that they are poisonous. So, I wrote a little snippet of her learning that they are not poisonous.

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

Minthara sits at the desk in her study, reviewing some of the letters written by the patriars of the city. She takes a drink from the wine glass in her hand, laughing with amusement as she reads the letters. They are all begging her to release the funds she has secured in the Counting House that she still holds in lock down. Who knew how easily she could manipulate the city legislature by simply denying its sitting members their fifth vacation to Waterdeep in six months.

She sets aside one letter after having completed it and pulls out another one, ready for more comedy. She has no intentions to release the gold and she wants the patriars to squirm. Let them know that they are under her thumb.

As she reads, she hears the muffled sounds of laughing and barking outside. She smiles to herself as she pictures her beloved outside playing with the dog. She stands up from her desk and walks to the window. Peeling back the curtain and squinting her eyes, Minthara watches as Scratch runs back towards the half-elf with a slimy ball in his jaws.

Shadowheart crouches down and pets the dog behind his ears, rubbing her forehead against the top of his head. She takes the ball from Scratch's mouth and walks back towards the cottage. She opens the back gate and continues through the garden. Shadowheart stops for a brief moment and looks at the night orchids that Minthara has been growing for the past few months. Minthara's heart drops into her stomach as Shadowheart kneels to the ground and begins to touch its poisonous petals.

The drow whips open the curtains, ignoring the burning pain as the sun shoots light beams directly into her eyes. She furiously taps on the window to get the half-elf's attention. "Are you mad? That is poisonous."

Shadowheart looks at the window and cocks her head, "Wha..." she says, but the word is muffled from the thick window between the two elves.

"Stop touching the damn flower! It is poisonous. It will kill you, you fool." Minthara says louder at the window, panic rising in her chest as the half-elf won't remove her hands from the flower pedals.

"What do yo... ...ower is not... ...sonous..." Shadowheart's voice is still muffled and Minthara is unable to discern her words. In a panicked frenzy, the drow runs through the cottage and outside into the garden.

"The flowers are poisonous, Shadowheart. What kind of madness would compel you to touch a plant you know is deadly?" Minthara says gently grabbing the half-elf's wrist and pulling her away from the night orchids. All Shadowheart does is giggle as the drow drags her up to the porch. "You will not be in such a jesting mood when you lie on the ground, croaking out like a frog as the poison does its work and thickens your blood like spoiled milk." Minthara slams open the door back into the cottage and drags the cleric into the kitchen. Her panic begins to mix with annoyance as Shadowheart continues to laugh as Minthara frantically gathers her antidotes.

"Minthara... You don't..." Shadowheart struggles to speak through her laughter, "You don't actually think that night orchids are poisonous do you?" she asks, wiping away a tear.

"Of course I do, you told me as much yourself. Drink this. Quickly." the drow hands an open antidote vial to the cleric. "We only have a short time to counter the effects of the toxins. When you finish, we will need to scrub your hands of any residue."

Shadowheart grabs the vial and walks to the counter with a smile on her face, returning the cork back into the top. "Minthara, love, I was joking when I said they were poisonous. Do you not remember that?"

"If you were joking, you failed to clarify that." Minthara sets her hand on the counter, trying to simmer her anger.

"Was it that I failed to clarify, or did you just stop paying attention after I said it was poisonous?"

Minthara taps her fingers against the counter. She recalls that day in the shadow lands, following behind the half-elf as Scratch sniffed out the flower. It was growing out of the side of a tree that hung over a rock cliff. "You refused to touch the flower. I had asked you why you did not want to pluck your favorite flower off that fallen log. You said that it was, and I quote, 'deadly poisonous'."

"And then I did this..." Shadowheart slumps over and points her fingers at the drow, "and said, 'Joking!'" she recites in a sing-song tone.

Minthara furrows her brow and pinches the corner of her lips. Shadowheart did no such thing! Did she?

"All of the poisons that I have been crafting these past months. All of them... useless... worthless..." the drow grumbles to herself.

"Wait, you've been using the night orchid in your poisons?"

"Yes. Because I had been led to believe that they were poisonous. Why do you think I was growing them in the garden?" Minthara sighs and shakes her head.

"I thought you were growing them because I liked them..." Shadowheart's voice trails off.

"Partially. I figured that if I was to microdose you with poison, that it would be more palatable to mix it with something you were familiar with."

"And if you knew from the beginning that they weren't poisonous, would you still have planted them?"

"Yes." Minthara looks to the half-elf as if the answer should be obvious. "Most of the fungi I have out there are not poisonous. I nurture them because I like them. They remind me of my home. And I would have done the same for you as the orchid does hold a place in your heart. Although they would not take up half the real estate in my damn garden as they do now." Minthara holds her hands before her and starts to shape them. "They would take up a little corner, or perhaps line the edges of the garden. Now I have to find a way to replace them. Make room for actually poisonous plants."

Shadowheart giggles and steps closer to the drow, wrapping one arm around Minthara's neck. "Why did you grow so many?"

"Some were to be harvested for the poisons. Others were to remain untouched, just for you to view every morning when we take the dog for a walk."

"I knew you were a romantic." Shadowheart leans forward and weaves her lips with her paladin. Minthara grabs onto Shadowheart's waist and pulls their bodies closer together, letting the frustration of the misunderstanding wash away.

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

Her knees scrape against small pebbles as she kneels to the ground, fingers clawing into the dirt. Frustration bubbles in her chest as she digs around the plant before her.

"Hmph." Minthara scoffs to herself. "Useless plant. Of course, she reveals to me after I fill half the garden with them that she was merely 'jesting'." The drow lifts her fingers out in the air and makes air quotes around the word, still not believing the half-elf's claim of making such a joke. She shakes her head as she returns to her work in digging up the orchid.

Once enough of its stem is exposed that she should be able to pull it out of the ground. But the stem itself is very thin and can easily break with too much pressure. She digs just a little more around it until its roots are exposed. She grabs onto the stem as gently as she can and slowly pulls it out of the ground. The orchid is not willing to release itself as its roots are properly intertwined with the earth.

Even though it is not poisonous as she had believed it to be, she does still admire the flower. It is, after all, one of the only natural things to survive the shadow curse on its own. Even with all the odds against it, where the air and the land beneath it had been poisoned by Shar, it managed to prevail where all else failed.

She doesn't fight the smile the tugs at the corner of her lips as she places the flower into the vase she brought with her. It is a resilient flower that has defied the very gods themselves and refused to be corrupted by the darker influences that threatened to swallow it whole. Much like a cleric that is close to her heart.

Minthara continues along the edge of the garden, digging up more of the orchids and placing them into the vase she brought with her. Once she has a nice set of flowers in the vase, she stands up and walks up to the porch. She sets it on the table and she grabs a mini shovel and digs into a bag of soil she has resting on the table. She gently pours it into the vase and packs it into the base so that it may serve as some nourishment for the flowers. Satisfied that the vase has been properly prepared, she sets the mini shovel on top of the bag of soil and removes her gardening gloves.

With the vase in hand, she walks through the cottage and into the living room. Shadowheart lays sprawled out against the couch with a blanket draped over her lower body, a book in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. A warm fire cackles in the fire place, proving some light in the room. Shadowheart lifts her eyes from the book and watches as Minthara sets the vase on the table in the center of the room. The drow taps her fingers ever so gently against the petals, attempting to fluff them up so that they look more presentable.

"It's a shame you have to rip up the flowers." The half-elf says as the drow walks over to the couch.

"Why would I rip up the flowers? That would just be a waste." Minthara asks as she lifts up Shadowheart's legs and sits on the couch. She sets the half-elf's legs in her lap as she makes herself comfortable on the furniture.

"Because they're not poisonous like you thought they were."

"No, they are not poisonous. But that is hardly a reason to rip them up from the garden, at least not all at once and I will slowly rotate some of them out. They still have some usage." Minthara waves her hand to the vase, "Now we have a lovely decoration."

Shadowheart lifts an eyebrow to Minthara. "And here I thought you were going to burn them all. You were rather upset about it earlier."

Minthara sighs and rubs her hand along Shadowheart's leg, "I was not upset to discover that the orchids were not poisonous. I was upset to discover that you and I are not inoculated against poison like I had thought we were. I worry now that if someone attempts to poison you, you may struggle to fight it on your own."

Minthara looks into her lap as her mind grows heavy to the thought of someone attempting to assassinate her beloved in the worst way she can imagine. She already lost one lover to poison, she cannot lose another in the same way. Shadowheart sits up and places her book and wine glass on the table. She scooches closer to the drow and places a hand on her cheek, turning Minthara's head so that their eyes may meet.

"You forget, love, that I do have spells that can help me fight poison and heal injuries. You do not need to stress yourself about it so much."

Minthara shakes her head and squeezes on the half-elf's leg, "I can use a sword to strike down and protect you from marauders, assassins, cultists, even the gods themselves. But no sword will ever be able to strike down poison, and most certainly not one that has found its way in your blood stream. I speak with direct experience, your clerical magic will only help you against so much. The only reliable weapon you have is your own immune system, and it is the only weapon I can give you against a threat that is unseen and silent."

Shadowheart giggles, "Thank you for being concerned with my health. But I will be alright. You still have your mushrooms. You have a formula for those don't you?"

"Yes." Minthara throws her head to the back of the couch, calculating new recipes in her mind and rebalancing the ratios.

I have my fungi from the Underdark, as well as a few surface mushrooms. But the recipe I have been using accounted for the night orchid making up a decent percentage of the ratio. Perhaps, things are not as bad as I initially perceived them to be as the previous concoctions with the orchid were still at least mostly poisonous. They were just not as poisonous as they could have been. Eh heh, no wonder why our enemies did not fall as fast as I had expected when I would coat my blades with the toxin. Like flowers and plants, poisons themselves come in various strains. Perhaps I can look around and find a new mushroom or a new plant to fill in the space of the night orchid so that the new creations can still account for as many strains as possible. Of course I cannot expect to realistically create just one little potion that will protect against every single poison out there... ... can't I? I will need to speak with a few herbalists, gather as much knowledge and information as possible of surface plants. If I cannot make one, I can make multiple different toxins and -

"Hey, stop that." Shadowheart playfully taps her hand against the drow's cheek to pull back her attention. "You shutting off your ears and going into your head about dangerous things is how we got in this mess to begin with. I do appreciate the effort you put to keep us safe. But we will be fine. Your potions weren't completely useless so my magic should help me. I don't think someone is going to try to poison me any time soon. You have time to figure it out."

Minthara widens her eyes and looks at Shadowheart, "Oh, darling. There is no time." Minthara swings her arm to the back of the couch and pushes herself above the half-elf. She leans over into Shadowheart's personal space. "Someone will try to poison you, and they will do it soon."

Shadowheart places a hand on her chest, opening her mouth with a overly dramatic gasp. She leans backwards on the couch as the drow gets closer to her. "And who have I angered so much that they would dare to poison me?"

"Me!" Minthara growls, pouncing on her lover and pushing the half-elf completely against the couch. Shadowheart giggles as the drow kisses the side of her neck, hands pressing into her belly and tickling her. "You have made a grievous error in fooling me into thinking those damn flowers were toxic. I will show you real poison, one that would make even the Spider Queen quiver."

"Oh, please do show me..." Shadowheart mumbles as the two elves melt together with a kiss that may or may not be poisonous.

[dirtybg3confessions]

Confession: I need Minthara carnally, it's not even a joke anymore. Her VOICE, her wicked personality, her jokes, her VOICE, her body, did I mention her VOICE??? Gods, please, I need her so much, I'm begging

[not-so-lost-after-all]

Moments before the disaster

Astarion and Tav having supposedly the last chance to have some fun time together AKA the missing opportunity to go on a date.

Inspired this amazing piece by the talented @lirotation This is not your Amaara but I hope you don't mind ;)

Tagged: @spacebarbarianweird

***

His heart was lighter, she knew. It's been two tendays and something since he gloriously murdered Cazador, that prick who ruined his life, and they both were giddy. Amongst all the violence around, it was perhaps the only comforting thing, Esipre thought.

They both knew it's only question of time before he'll have to return to the shadows - if they survive at all - and they had an unspoken deal to make the most out of it.

They made love almost every night and sometimes it felt like her legs are shaped around his hips and her breasts were always sore. "He would make a fine consort if you're the type to be addicted to dick," Minthara raised her eyebrow and Esipre just shook her head and laughed.

She gave him her blood once, the most she could effort. As always it felt like falling into the cold water and then heatwave thanks to his touches. Her eyelids were already heavy when he kissed her and he tasted like smoke and brandy and the iron in her blood. She rolled her hips and sighed when he filled her up and then Astarion whispered something in elvish while brushing her chin and neck with his lips. Sometimes she woke up to him curled around her like a cat. One morning she watched the first rays of sun coming through the window and through the tip of his pointy ear before waking him up by kissing that ear.

The two of them were always the last to go to sleep and the first ones to get up, just shortly after sunrise.

But the time was almost up. Tomorrow or the day after that, she thought. Their merry band was well prepared and Esipre tried to keep their spirit high the best way she could. She was strangely calm about what they're about to do, she wasn't more sure about anything in her life.

When Astarion asked her about it, she shrugged. "Of course. But being afraid was never of any use to me. I'm done running."

"That's my girl," he grinned and nodded.

"Truth to be told, it was you who inspired me to not run away just because it's the easiest way."

He looked at her, bewildered. "Easy now, darling..."

Gods above, she loved all of him but it always made her heart flutter how precious he was whenever thrown out of his element.

"Anyway, this may be our last chance to have fun. Come with me?" Esipre smiled at him. She offered him her hand and Astarion immediately took it.

First thing first, she stole a bottle of red wine from a street vendor while laughing at his stupid jokes. Astarion was simply standing nearby, enjoying the show. "I could say I'm shocked about your criminal behaviour, you villain, but that would be a lie," her vampire rewarded her with a high pitched giggle. He stole two iron cups in a short few minutes...

The were walking along the waterfront and watched the last returning fishing boats.

They heard a scream from a dark alleyway and then a Sharran cultict running from that direction. She blasted him with a firebolt, then dramatically bowed like an illusionist when two temple guards were thanking her.

They were sitting in the shade of an apple tree in the park, with Astarion's head in her lap. The sun was already low in the sky, its light golden. They heard some female voices calling their kids for dinner. She wrinkled her nose as one of the buzzing bees briefly stopped in front of her. Esipre sipped a bit of the wine from the cup and laughed as Astarion was gossiping about Shadowheart. The moment was like the last day of summer, sweet and melancholic at the same time.

"What is it, darling?" Astarion noticed her unfocused eyes.

Esipre didn't want to ruin the mood but then decided to simply tell the truth. "I just wish to freeze this moment in time."

"I don't. I'm just happy there's something always changing in my life now, after two centuries of doing the same with the same outcome."

"And you can deal with anything, I'm aware of that." Astarion was the strongest person she knew but telling him that would make his ego the size of the moon. Though he wasn't so sure how well he's going to take the ending of his love affair with the sun because that surely won't come gently. But she left that unsaid.

Esipre caressed his collarbone with her finger. "You're still warm from the sun," she smiled.

There was a hint of something darker, painful in his ruby eyes but it almost instantly faded. Astarion then took her hand and kissed her wrist. "Just an illusion anyway. I can perform the same trick using't heat from the fire whenever you want to."

Esipre was a bit tipsy which always made her say things she would probably regret saying otherwise.

"Provided we'll survive. I... may not be some serial killer you can swoon over or a young girl who you'd have easier time to wrap around you finger..."

"Don't," he moved a finger across her jaw. "How many times do I need to tell you you're perfect everytime?"

She hapilly giggled. "...but I think we've still had a great time together. Just so you know." Becase you may not want to see me ever again if we survive tomorrow.

"Look," Esipre pointed at the last small part of the sun disappearing on the horizon with childlike wonder.

"I can only see you," Astarion continued watching her, now sitting next to her.

She turned to him, then they both closed their eyes. "Three. Two. One," she whispered to the last rays of the sun.

The kiss was teasing and playful and long like they have all the time in the world. "That choice was painful, you know that," he said when their foreheads touched. "It'll be even more. But for moments like this I wouldn't have it any other way."

[firstknightvulion]

Saw this joke and I immediately thought of Minthara.

Minthara: What are you doing later?

Tav: Nothing, why?

Minthara: Did you forget?!

Tav: *panicking* What? What was it?

Minthara: *grabs Tav by the chin and starts speaking in a low, dangerous voice* Me. You’re doing me. Don’t forget again.

[simpforminthy]

lil minthara x jokester reader somethin' somethin'

18+, nsfw-ish (doesn’t go all the way there but there be flirting)

inspired by a prompt that now i can't find :((( but one of the prompt quotes was "If you do not quit whining, the only thing killing you today will be my bare hands around your neck."

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

Despite the swampy heat and humidity that hung in the air, your skin felt like ice. You were wrapped up in your bedroll in your tent, shivering, every part of your body clenched like a fist.

You couldn’t remember how long you’d been there: all you knew is the sickness had come on in the morning, and the fever had reared its head as the sun started setting. By this time, it was fully dark. Your underwear was soaked through with sweat, your eyes shut as the battle inside your body waged on.

With the fever now reaching its pitch, your addled brain turned – as reliably as ever – to her. A kaleidoscope of Minthara crashed through your mind without warning: her lips, her tattoo-adorned neck, her muscular thighs. An expression of bemusement, begrudgingly directed at you after one of your silly jokes.

Despite herself, you could tell: she was entertained by your jokes. She maybe even liked some of them.

A grin played across your lips as you reveled in the memories, comforting to you in their familiarity – after all, you'd played them in your mind a hundred times over.

A dizzy spell hit you: images of Minthara were replaced with black and white spots as you came back into your ailing body. You groaned and dove deeper down into the bedroll, far enough that your head was fully submerged.

Suddenly you heard footsteps approaching your tent, even and sure. You barely registered the sound of the flap as it was brushed aside, but as the steps came to a stop next to your bedroll, you realized one of your companions must have entered your tent.

"Go on without me. Save yourselves," you croaked.

"Psh. Are you not yet better, human?" came Minthara's deep voice.

Your eyes snapped open. You peeked your head over the edges of the bedroll, eyes landing on the flesh and blood version of the woman who'd been dancing along your brain. Had you somehow summoned her?

She stood above you, arms crossed, eyes blazing as she considered you and your state.

"These may be my last words," you wheezed dramatically up at her. "I think I might be dying."

Minthara chuckled lowly. “You are acting as absurd as usual. It is but a small fever."

"Dying, I say," you whined. You were hungry for her attention, and you weren't above annoying her for it.

"If you do not quit whining, the only thing killing you today will be my bare hands around your neck.” She smirked at you.

You went to laugh, your body managing to summon the strength for just a few chuckles. You were starting to think Minthara had come to make sure you were okay.

It gave you the courage to be a little more cheeky than usual.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you said, propping yourself up on your wrists.

Minthara cocked her head, a ghost of a smile playing across her lips. She put her hands on her hips.

Your body was starting to revolt, your muscles quivering as you held yourself up. Somehow you kept yourself upright, not taking your eyes off her.

“Perhaps when you are well, then,” she murmured, surveying you.

Your stomach lit up with heat at the tone of her voice, banishing some of the chill in your body. You grinned from ear to ear.

“I came to tell you that had better be soon.” Her eyebrows knitted together in that way you loved as she turned serious again. “With you currently indisposed, the wizard fancies himself our glorious leader. It is insufferable.”

With that, her eyes sweeping you up and down one last time, she turned on her heel and exited the tent. The flap swayed in the wind behind her.

Your heart thumping, you promptly collapsed back onto your stomach and slithered your way back beneath the covers. You eyes shut tight again as you curled back into fetal position, allowing the shivering to take over again.

Your mind went to pick up right where it left off, before the real thing had graced your presence. This time, you allowed yourself to fantasize more deeply: her long, delicate fingers caressing your neck, tracing your jawline. Her eyes glinting mischievously down at you.

You smiled through the sweat.

[wellthebardsdead]

Lucy used to be a dm for a group of her ‘friends’ back in the modern world and was very good at mimicking voices, after being turned into a devil this strength was amplified and as a bard/barbarian she uses it to her advantage a lot. Luring enemies over with a mimicked voice before knocking their lights out. But as a cruel joke/curse from Asmodeus, she can never use her real voice ever again.

Her new voice isn’t bad though, it’s a mix between Dolly Parton and Duchess from the Aristocats. For charming people it works excellently but for intimidation? Shes lucky Zhalk is on hand.

But for performing it’s been a boon as well, she had the Tieflings dancing holes in their boots at the grove party, lifted spirits at last light, and made Raphael realise he was in too deep when he overheard her singing Indilas Love Story in the gauntlet of Shar as she danced with Minthara, her voice echoing through every hall and into his soul.

But it also has its comedy uses.

Cue her scolding the owlbear with a goblin impression “Where are my socks are they in your mouth?! Spit them out right now!”

[moonselune]

Playing a Prank on the BG3 Ladies and saying you want to sleep in your own tent

Soooo this is some of the more silly writing I have wanted to produce hehehe, hope you all enjoy it - Seluney xoxo

Karlach:

The sun was setting over the camp, casting a warm orange glow across the tents and flickering campfires. You and Karlach had just finished a day of training and patrols, and now the evening was settling in peacefully. As usual, you and Karlach shared a tent, finding comfort in each other's presence after a long day.

But tonight, you decided to play a little prank on Karlach, just to see her reaction. You watched her as she began to settle into the tent, arranging her gear and preparing for the night. With a mischievous grin, you casually mentioned, "You know, I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Karlach paused, looking up at you with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly. "But you always sleep in here with me."

You tried to hold back a smile, knowing she was already getting pouty. "Yeah, but I thought I'd change it up tonight. Give you some space," you replied casually, trying to maintain your composure. Karlach's expression shifted to one of slight disappointment, and she kicked at the ground with a small scowl.

"Fine," she muttered, clearly not happy with the idea of sleeping alone.

You couldn't keep up the act any longer, her little childish tantrum being too much. Your laughter bubbled up, and you finally admitted, "I'm just messing with you, Karlach! It's a prank."

Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she processed your words, and then suddenly, she broke into a grin.

"A prank, huh?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well played."

Before you could react, Karlach swiftly moved towards you, effortlessly scooping you up over her shoulder. You let out a surprised laugh as she carried you back towards her tent, her strong arms holding you securely.

"You're not getting away that easily," Karlach teased, her voice tinged with amusement. She gently put you inside the tent, and you couldn't help but laugh at how easily she had turned the tables on you.

As you settled down together in the tent, the laughter continued, filling the space between you with warmth and affection. Karlach wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close, and you snuggled against her, ensuring Clive had a spot in the bed as well with you.

"Next time, maybe think twice before trying to prank me, love" Karlach said with a smirk, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Next time, I may not be so so gentle."

You chuckled, tracing a finger along her cheek. "Noted, though if it means I get manhandled by my favourite barbarian."

"Oh ho ho, you should not have told me that love," Karlach chuckled pressing another kiss to your forehead, oh the plans she had.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The evening had settled over the camp, casting a gentle glow over the tents and campfires. You and Minthara had just finished a rigorous day of planning and training, and now it was time to retire for the night. As you watched her organizing her belongings in her tent, an idea for a joke began to form in your mischievous mind.

"Hey, Minthara," you called out casually, trying to suppress a smile.

Minthara looked up from her task, her piercing gaze fixing on you. "Yes?" she replied, her voice calm yet filled with curiosity.

"I think I'm going to sleep in my own tent tonight," you announced, watching closely for her reaction. Her brows furrowed slightly, a faint hint of confusion crossing her features.

"Your own tent?" she repeated, her tone neutral but tinged with a hint of concern.

"Yeah," you continued, trying to maintain a serious expression. "Just feel like I need some space tonight, you know?"

Minthara's expression shifted to one of mild concern. "Have I done something wrong?" she asked, her voice softening with genuine worry.

You shook your head quickly. "No, not at all. It's not about that," you reassured her, trying to keep the joke going a little longer.

"Are you mad at me?" Minthara pressed, her concern deepening.

"No, no, not mad," you replied, trying to hide your amusement. "Just… I don't know. Maybe I need some time alone."

Minthara's eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face intently. After a moment of silence, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You're being ridiculous," she declared, her voice firm. "You're not sleeping alone tonight. Either you'll join me in my tent, or I'll join you in yours. But we won't be separated."

You couldn't help but grin at her determination, but you held your ground.

"No, Minthara," you said firmly, trying to keep a straight face. She looked at you with a mixture of confusion and mild frustration.

"What is going on with you?" she demanded, her tone now more exasperated than concerned. Unable to keep up the act any longer, you burst into laughter. "You are clearly unwell, I will have to consult Shadow-

"-Okay, okay, I give up!" you admitted, shaking your head at her. "It was just a joke"

Minthara blinked, processing your words for a moment before her lips curled into a smirk. "A joke?" she echoed, her tone tinged with amusement. "You think me a fool?"

You nodded sheepishly, still chuckling, starting to get worried by the glint in Minthara's eye. "I guess I underestimated you,"

Minthara's smirk widened, and she stepped closer to you, her eyes now gleaming with mischief. "Well then, since you tried to deceive me," she said, her voice lowering slightly, "I think I'll have to punish you."

Before you could react, she gently but firmly took your hand and led you into her tent. Once inside, she closed the entrance flap behind you, effectively trapping you inside with her. Despite the playful punishment, her touch and presence conveyed a sense of intimacy and possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.

"You're not going anywhere," Minthara declared softly, her eyes locking with yours. "And if you try that again, I will keep you bound to me forevermore."

You laughed, but you knew she wasn't joking. But before you could press her further on the matter, she pulled you close to her and captured her lips in yours, you could tell immediately that despite being together, there would be no sleep happening.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The evening was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the camp as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows. The day had been long, filled with battles and strategies, and now it was time to rest. You approached Lae'zel's tent, a mischievous grin on your face as you prepared to pull a prank on the fierce Githyanki warrior.

"Hey, Lae'zel," you began, trying to keep your voice casual. "I've been thinking… I don't want to sleep in your tent tonight."

Lae'zel looked up from sharpening her sword, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly as she studied your expression. "Very well," she said simply, her tone indifferent. "Sleep where you wish."

You blinked, a bit surprised by her lack of reaction. "I mean, it's just… I think I need some space tonight. You know, to think and reflect."

Lae'zel shrugged, unperturbed. "Then do so. Your need for solitude is understandable."

You pressed on, trying to elicit some reaction. "It's not that I don't enjoy being with you. I just feel like… maybe we need a break or something."

She raised an eyebrow, still sharpening her blade with calm precision. "If that is what you desire, I will not object. Do what you must."

Feeling a bit miffed by her nonchalance, you decided to push further. "Aren't you… upset? Even a little bit? I thought you'd be at least a bit bothered by this."

Lae'zel paused, setting her sword aside as she regarded you with a quizzical expression. "Why would I be upset? You have your reasons, and I respect them. If you require space, it is logical to provide it."

A twinge of offense crept into your voice. "You should be upset! It means something if I don't want to sleep in your tent. Aren't you even a little worried?"

Lae'zel's confusion was evident as she tilted her head slightly. "Worried? No. You are your own person, and you have the right to your own choices. I trust your judgment."

You couldn't help but chuckle at her serious demeanor, realizing she truly didn't get the joke. "Lae'zel, it was a prank. I was trying to tease you."

Her eyes widened slightly, and she frowned, clearly not amused. "A prank? Why would you jest about such matters?"

Your laughter bubbled up, and you couldn't contain it. "Because it was supposed to be funny! I wanted to see if you'd get upset or react in some way."

Lae'zel's frown deepened, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Your sense of humor is… peculiar. But I see now."

You shook your head, still chuckling. "You're something else, Lae'zel. I guess I can't easily get a rise out of you."

She picked up her sword again, resuming her sharpening with a faint smile. "No, you cannot. But I appreciate the attempt. Perhaps next time, try a different approach."

You leaned in, planting a light kiss on her cheek. "Noted. I'll think of something more creative next time."

Lae'zel's smile grew slightly as she continued her task, and you settled beside her, content to enjoy her company despite the failed prank. It was moments like these that reminded you why you cared for her so deeply—her unyielding strength, her unwavering logic, and her ability to be so sweetly naive.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

As the campfire crackled and the last rays of sunlight faded into twilight, you decided to pull a playful prank on Shadowheart. The two of you sat close together, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet companionship. After finishing your evening meal, you turned to her, adopting a serious expression.

"Shadowheart," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Shadowheart's eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing glint appearing almost instantly. But she played along, her face falling into a mask of hurt.

"What? Why? Do you not want to be with me anymore?" Her voice trembled, and her eyes filled with mock tears, shimmering in the firelight. The sight of her so convincingly distressed made your heart ache.

"No, no, it's not like that," you stammered, immediately regretting your prank. "I just thought—"

Shadowheart's facade held firm, and she turned away, covering her face with her hands as if overwhelmed with emotion. "I can't believe this," she murmured, her voice muffled. "All this time, I thought... I thought we had something special."

You reached out, panic rising. "Shadowheart, please, listen. It was just a joke, I didn't mean it—"

She turned back to you, her eyes wide and brimming with tears that looked all too real. "A joke? You think this is funny? I thought you loved me, but clearly, I was wrong."

Your heart sank, and guilt gnawed at you. "Shadowheart, I'm so sorry. I do love you. I was just trying to be playful. Please, forgive me."

Just as you felt a wave of despair, Shadowheart's expression shifted. The tears vanished, replaced by a mischievous sparkle. She broke into laughter, her shoulders shaking with amusement.

"Got you!" she exclaimed, wiping away the fake tears. "Did you really think I'd fall for that?"

You sighed, a mix of relief and exasperation washing over you. "I can't believe you turned my prank around on me."

Shadowheart grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You should know by now that I can see through your tricks. But it was worth it to see that look on your face."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension dissolving in the warm glow of the fire. "Alright, you got me. I promise no more pranks tonight."

Shadowheart leaned in, her lips brushing against your cheek, her breath warm against your skin. "Good. Now come on, let's get some rest. Together."

She took your hand, leading you to your shared tent. As you settled in, you felt a comforting sense of belonging, knowing that Shadowheart's sharp wit and playful nature would always keep you on your toes.

Inside the tent, Shadowheart snuggled close, her warmth a soothing balm against the chill of the night. She rested her head on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

"You know," she said softly, "I might have overdone it a bit. But seeing you so flustered was priceless."

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around her. "You had me worried there for a moment. You're a better actor than I gave you credit for."

She smiled, her eyes closing as she settled comfortably against you. "Just remember, no more tricks. I like knowing you're here with me."

You kissed the top of her head, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. "No more tricks," you promised. "Just us."

As the sounds of the night enveloped you, you felt a deep sense of peace. Shadowheart's presence was a constant reminder of the bond you shared, one that could weather any storm, even the playful pranks that kept your love alive.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The stars were just beginning to appear in the night sky as you and Jaheira finished setting up camp. The fire crackled warmly, casting dancing shadows around the clearing. You decided it was the perfect moment to play a little prank on your ever-composed lover.

"Jaheira," you said, adopting a serious tone, "I think I'll sleep in my own tent tonight."

Jaheira looked up from her task, raising an eyebrow with an amused glint in her eye. "Oh?" she said, her voice calm and steady. "That's a relief. I've been hoping for a good night's sleep without your snoring and restless tossing."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Wait, what? I don't snore!"

Jaheira's lips twitched with the hint of a smile. "Of course not, my dear. I was simply agreeing with your suggestion."

Your face fell, feeling a bit offended and confused. "I thought you'd be upset."

Jaheira's smile widened, and she let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, love, I'm just joking. I knew what you were trying to do the moment you said it."

You felt a wave of relief and amusement wash over you. "You had me there for a moment."

Jaheira stepped closer, her eyes softening with affection. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace. "I can't be fooled so easily. But nice try."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, you win this time. No more jokes tonight."

Jaheira leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Good. Because I actually enjoy having you beside me, even with your supposed snoring."

You felt a flush of warmth at her words, your heart swelling with affection. "I enjoy being with you too," you replied, your voice soft. "Even if you do make fun of me."

Jaheira pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a playful glint. "It's part of my charm," she said with a wink. "Now, shall we get some rest?"

You nodded, and the two of you made your way to your shared tent. Inside, Jaheira helped you settle down, her movements graceful and efficient. As you lay down, she snuggled close, her warmth a comforting presence in the cool night air.

"You know," she murmured, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm, "if you really did want to sleep in your own tent, I wouldn't stop you. But I prefer having you here with me."

You smiled, your heart feeling light and content. "I prefer being here too," you said, turning to kiss her forehead. "No more pranks, I promise."

Jaheira chuckled softly. "Good. Now let's get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[blackjackkent]

All right, after an extremely emotionally turbulent exploration of the rest of the circus, time for Rakha and co. to finally meet Dribbles. Once again, Rakha has become deeply invested in making sure Wyll gets to see the show, which is the only reason she doesn't turn around and leave as soon as she realizes what exactly that entails.

"Buddy the Dog is my very best friend? Do you know why?"

Oh, Rakha thinks. That is what a clown is.

She remembers the terrible night in the Shadowlands when she was cursed into a strange, nonsensical face-painting (twice); it was fundamentally one of the worst days she has any memory of and resulted in her having a complete breakdown out in the curse-shrouded dark. And now she understands the full import of the pixie's mocking gesture, for she sees similar paint on the face of this entertainer surrounded by excited children, telling terrible jokes.

"Because with him, anything is PAW-sible! Wahey!"

Rakha comes very close to turning around and walking away right there - except that Wyll, at her side, laughs delightedly.

"Haha!" He snickers, nudging Rakha gently in the side with his elbow. "Between you and me," he whispers, "I love a good clown. And Dribbles is the best."

Rakha sets her jaw and remains still, resisting the urge to turn away. Wyll is happy. That's what matters. That was the whole point of being here in the first place.

No matter that something prickles uncomfortably in the back of her mind as she looks up at the strange, brightly-colored man and his inhuman stretched and painted grin. No matter that the beast in her head sees the crowd of innocents around her and longs to rip and tear and shred and bleed...

"Did you hear about the scarecrow who lost a fight?" Dribbles crows brightly.

He seems to be expecting some answer from the crowd, but Rakha has no idea what that answer might be.

Simply watch.

"He got the stuffing kicked out of him!" the clown finishes the joke to a burst of laughter from the onlookers. "Wa-hey!"

Jaheira groans good-naturedly. Wyll laughs again. Lae'zel is standing stock-still next to Rakha, her head cocked with an attitude of mild puzzlement. Minthara casually pulls a dagger from her hip and begins to examine its edge.

Rakha's head aches. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth suddenly, her palms damp in her gloves. The crowd presses around them, too close, too loud.

"Oh, oh, you're all such good friends!" the clown shouts cheerfully. "I've had a wonderful time, but I have to go..." This elicits a predictable chorus of groans and protests from the children watching, and Dribbles' grin widens. "Oh, well, if you insist! How about a magic trick? But first - I need a volunteer with nerves of steel and the heart of a lion." He begins to scan the crowd with exaggerated intensity, a hand over his brow. "Who will it be? Who...?"

The crowd begins to shout, the children all bouncing up and down with their hands in the air, excited and eager.

Rakha's vision blurs, going white at the edges, and she feels for a panicky moment as if she is about to lose control--

Narrator: A bloodthirsty rush of fury engulfs you. You want to butcher the crowd, women and children alike, and soak in their innards. It is glorious.

It's some combination of the memory of her curse, the crowd and noise around her, the clown's sharp-edged cheeriness, Wyll's smile and her own darkness-- she can't bear it. She will break, she will snap, she will kill--

"Rakha?" Wyll's hand is on her arm, his voice in her ear, laughing.

Her vision clears and she realizes that Dribbles is looking directly at her, one hand outstretched.

"You!" he calls. "My special assistant. Come on up!"

No. She flinches. No. She can't go up there in front of these people. Not with her sanity hanging on a knife's edge, not with her head aching like there's a dagger in her temple. She's struck with an odd sourceless feeling that Dribbles knows, that he sees exactly what she is thinking, what she is...

That's nonsense, surely. It is just a game, like Wyll said the dryad was. This is a bit of foolishness, of fun.

But she can't go up there.

She shakes her head once sharply, turns to look at Wyll with an inarticulate plea in her eyes. "I-- think this is a job for the Blade of Frontiers," she says haltingly. She makes an attempt to smile, to give the words an attitude of play, but can't quite manage it; the whites show in her eyes. "Don't you, Wyll?"

It's better that he go up, anyway. This show is for him...

He knows something is wrong, certainly, and takes her hand and squeezes it for a moment. "I'm not so sure," he says hesitantly. And through the haze in her mind, she loves him for that hesitation, for not wanting to leave her side.

But she shakes her head. "Go on, Wyll," she mutters, as the clown shouts encouragement from the stage.

He draws back, and she sees the smile work back onto his face almost in spite of himself. "Well," he says - to the cheering crowd around them as much as to her, "if you insist!"

She struggles to focus, to watch attentively as he climbs onto the stage. The clown grins and the blink dog at his side steps back out of the way.

"Now!" Dribbles cries. "You're *very* special! As special as can be! Does anyone know why?"

Rakha knows a hundred, a thousand reasons why Wyll is special. None she would speak aloud to this painted fool, though. She remains silent as more shouts erupt from the crowd around her, her eyes locked on Wyll, trying her best to shut out the chaos.

"You're special, my friend," Dribbles continues, "because I have a message just for you!"

It happens in an instant, like a switch being flipped. That wide painted grin goes from cheerful to menacing, from bright fire to cold ice. All the humanity drops out of Dribbles's eyes and his smile suddenly shows all of his teeth.

And Rakha feels all of the beast's inarticulate fury coalesce into a fear-rage that suddenly has a very specific target.

"Praise the Absolute," the clown whispers.

"Trap," Jaheira hisses. Minthara growls something in Undercommon and Lae'zel curses, her blade flicked out of its scabbard and glinting in the late afternoon light.

But Rakha is only conscious of the clown and Wyll and the dog leaping forward from among the curtains and sinking its teeth into Wyll's arm. The smell of blood crashes across the arena and the crowd's shouts turn to screams.

Rakha's control, already strained to the breaking point, snaps. Her vision fades and the beast takes over, and she surges forward with only one thought remaining in her mind.

KILL THE CLOWN.

[m-for-musings]

Honey Webbing

Part 22 [THEY FINALLY KISS!!!]

Halsin gently closed the door to the children's bedroom, a soft smile lingering on his lips as the echoes of their laughter and whispered thanks for the bedtime story filled the quiet night. The moon cast a silvery glow through the hallway windows, and the house had settled into a peaceful hush. As he made his way towards the couch that now served as his bed, a concern tugged at the edges of his mind.

Minthara.

He had not seen her leave the bedroom all day, not even to eat. She had been in there since the morning, and though he respected her need for privacy, focus and recovery, a nagging worry gnawed at him. Halsin paused at the bottom of the stairs. He didn't want to disturb her, but he couldn't ignore the possibility that she was neglecting her own well-being. He made his way into the kitchen, his movements quiet and deliberate. The fire in the hearth had died down to glowing embers, but he quickly managed to light it up once more, the low flames casting a warm, muted light across the room. Halsin set a pot of water to boil, preparing a soothing herbal tea while reheating the leftover stew from dinner. As the tea steeped, he gathered everything with care, placing a bowl of the steaming stew on a tray alongside a thick slice of bread. The fragrant tea followed, its warm aroma filling the air as he carefully arranged the items, making sure everything was just right before heading out.

The wood steps creaked softly under his weight as he ascended the stairs. He hesitated outside his bedroom door, his heart stirring with a mixture of concern and an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Taking a steadying breath, he rapped his knuckles lightly against the door.

"Minthara?" he called softly, not wanting to startle her. "It's Halsin. May I come in?"

There was a brief silence before he heard the faint rustle of movement from within. He took it as a sign of acknowledgment and slowly pushed the door open. The room was dimly lit by candles, casting long shadows across the floor. Minthara sat at a small desk, her eyes locked onto the pages of a well-worn notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration as she furiously scribbled notes with a quill.

Halsin stepped inside, the tray balanced carefully in his hands. "I brought you some food," he said gently, his voice tinged with genuine concern. "I noticed you hadn't come out all day, and I thought you might be hungry."

Minthara's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing slightly as she registered his presence. She looked at the tray and then back at her notebook, clearly torn between her frustration and the sudden reminder of her own needs. As Halsin set the tray down beside her, he couldn't help but glance at the chaotic scrawl covering the pages. Among the notes about possible coded messages, he saw a frustrated rant: "What does it mean? Why did I write this SHIT??"

"Struggling against your own handwriting?" he joked gently.

Minthara shot him a sharp look, her irritation evident. But then, to his surprise, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Yes, it's almost as if it was written by a bear," she replied, her tone begrudgingly playful.

"Alas, I must say that bears tend to have horrible writing skills," Halsin continued, a playful glint in his eye. Minthara smirks, but soon her smile falters, her eyes dropping back to the diary in front of her. The lighthearted moment gave way to a deeper frustration, her shoulders slumping slightly as she let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers tightening around the quill. "I have yet to go through the entirety of my belongings, but I thought retrieving my diary would at least shed some light on the mystery of my situation," she admitted, her voice tinged with exasperation. She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. "I cursed myself for being so adept at encrypting messages. It's as if I’ve locked away my own thoughts and thrown away the key."

Halsin nods in acknowledgement of her struggle. "You've been through a lot," he said gently. Then, his tone grew slightly more serious as he added, "You shouldn't punish yourself for it. Take a break instead, eat something. Proper rest might help with your memory loss."

"It's not just about remembering," she said, and then her brow furrowed again. "It's about time. I had a war at my hands down in the Underdark, and each moment I spend here, trying to know who did this to me, and why, my enemies grow stronger. But at the same time, I can’t simply return without this knowledge, otherwise I’d be dooming myself to be sabotaged again.”

Halsin nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said. "But you also won't be able to decode anything if you're exhausted and hungry."

Minthara's gaze flickered to the tray of food, and she sighed again, this time with a reluctant resignation.

"Good," he said softly. "If you need anything else, let me know."

*** Halsin settled himself on the wooden bench of the veranda, the familiar feel of the carving knife in his hands a comforting presence. It was already late at night, but he still had a couple of hours before his body needed a meditation. As he gazed out over the tranquil landscape, a sense of peace settled over him, a rare respite from the agitation that had recently consumed his life.

The view from his vantage point was nothing short of idyllic. Stretching out before him, the lazy river wound its way through the lush, verdant landscape, its gently rippling surface reflecting the dappled moonlight that filtered through the dense canopy of trees. Below him, the quaint village nestled in the valley, with its flat-roof cottages and winding cobblestone streets still a work in progress. Raising the knife, Halsin began to carve away at the piece of wood he held with smooth, rhythmic strokes of the blade. 

He was oblivious to the passing of time, his world narrowed to the delicate figurine slowly taking form beneath his skilled hands. Each stroke was deliberate, honed by years of practice, as he coaxed the wood to reveal the intricate details – the flutter of wings, the curve of flowing feathers, the gentle tilt of a head. Yet, not even the peaceful scenario and the relaxing activity could shield his mind from the haunting memories that continued to plague him.

The anguished face of the elder Baleen, his deathbed agony seared into Halsin's consciousness, refused to be extinguished. And with it came the crushing weight of the doubt. Had he made the right choice? Was he entitled to make this choice in the first place? After all, who was he to decide who lived and who died so deliberately?

The words of the elder’s son swirl in his mind once again, ringing even more true than they were before. He had saved Minthara even as she lay lifeless before him. Yet, he had taken the life of the elder, who had still clung to the thread of his existence. The bitter irony of it all gnawed at Halsin's very soul, leaving him wracked with a crippling self-doubt.

Halsin paused in his whittling, the delicate wooden figurine forgotten as he grappled with the turmoil within. How could he justify his actions? How could he live with the knowledge that he had unilaterally decided the fates of those he had encountered, when not even the gods are allowed to take such a direct approach? The responsibility weighed heavily upon him, a burden he had never sought to bear.

With a shaky sigh, Halsin stares at his work, his calloused fingers trembling. The tranquility of the moment had been shattered, replaced by a tempest of conflicting emotions that threatened to drown him. He closed his eyes in a silent prayer for the Oak Father, yearning for the clarity and conviction that had once guided his path.

So engrossed was he in the depths of his own heavy heart that he failed to register the soft footsteps approaching. It was only when he heard the sound of a liquid shaking inside a bottle — a sound utterly out of place — that Halsin finally looked up. He found Minthara standing there, leaning against the wall, a bottle of mead in her hand, sipping directly from it with her air of casual defiance. 

“I hope you don't mind," Minthara said, her tone measured as she gestured at the bottle. “I needed something stronger than tea.”

Minthara's words cut through the haze of Halsin's dark musings, jolting him back to the present. As he finally registered his surroundings, the first thing that caught his eye was her figure. Her new leather attire clung to her form, the intricate cuts revealing just as much as the garments he remembered from their past travels. The moonlight played across her dark skin, highlighting her fierce beauty and the proud, unyielding set of her bare shoulders. For a moment, Halsin could do nothing but drink in the sight of her, his heart stirring with a potent mix of… something… he couldn't quite explain, but was definitely much better than the misery he was in moments ago.

“What’s wrong with you, druid?” Her voice echoes in his ears, making him blink in a sudden burst of self-awareness. He was staring, and by her expression, it must have been in a very awkward way.

“There's nothing wrong.” He replied hurriedly, turning his attention back to the wooden figure he was carving, sliding aside in order to make room for her on the bench. Minthara settles herself beside him, offering the bottle, which he resignantely refuses. The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds being the faint rustling of the carving knife, the liquid shaking inside the bottle at each sip, and the gentle lapping of the river below.

"Was it you?" Her question, sharp and accusatory, caught the druid off guard, his brow furrowing in confusion. What was she implying? Surely she couldn't believe that he had somehow orchestrated the events that had led to her current predicament. How could Minthara even entertain such a notion? He had played no part in her downfall, nor did he possess the means or the motivation to sabotage her in such a manner.

"No," he replied firmly, his voice carrying a note of genuine surprise and even a hint of offense. "I wouldn't even know how to reach you in the Underdark, let alone sabotage you."

The drow's brows furrowed as she scrutinized his face. Halsin held her stare unflinchingly, allowing the sincerity of his words to shine through. Halsin could see the signs of her exhaustion in her eyes and etched into the tight lines around her mouth. 

"I know,” she finally said, averting her gaze in a resolute yet disappointed tone. “Maybe I was just hoping for an easy answer, but there is none.”

Another moment of silence. Another large sip of the bottle. “Why would anyone go to such lengths?" she murmured, more to herself than to him, between large sips of mead. "Only to cast me adrift in such a peculiar manner, along with most of my important belongings? Nothing about it makes any sense."

Halsin turned to her, leaning a little closer on their shared seat, his expression softening with genuine concern. "I wish I had answers for you, truly.”

Minthara slowly shook her head, her gaze flickering from the bottle of wine to the landscape below, the frustration she felt very evident in the tightness of her posture. "I hate feeling like this," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lost. Weak. Helpless."

“You are none of those things," he said firmly, "You've survived so much already, this is just another challenge, one you will overcome.”

Minthara scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Spare me the motivational speech,” she said, the words laced with a familiar edge of defiance, but there was an underlying sadness to it. “I never needed your pity, druid." 

"It's not pity, Minthara," Halsin assured her, his voice gentle yet unyielding. "You single-handedly defeated a Cave Bear in combat and managed to imprison me. You almost destroyed my grove with little more than a bunch of drunk goblins under your command. You resisted a complete brainwash long enough for our companions to come to your aid, without shedding a single tear in the process. Not to mention surviving the horrors that Orin got you through. More than once, I considered leaving the camp at night in the middle of the Shadowfell because the prospect of facing the hungry shadows seemed more reasonable than facing you, should you turn on me. You are one of the most fierce, strong-willed souls I've met in my entire life. For Sylvanus’ sake, I never pitied you. I was terrified of you.”

Minthara's eyes widened, and for a moment the fierce drow, always in control and projecting strength, seemed taken aback by Halsin's words. Her expression shifted from surprise to something softer, her usually guarded exterior cracking to reveal a look of genuine appreciation.

For a moment, they held each other's gaze, the silence thick with unspoken emotions. Halsin’s feelings, that had been simmering beneath the surface, now surged to the forefront, impossible to ignore. He leaned a little bit closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch her hand, half-expecting her to flinch away.

But she didn’t.

The next thing Halsin knew, they had closed the distance with a sudden, almost desperate movement, their lips capturing each other in a fierce, hungry kiss. Halsin's arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer as she responded with equal intensity. The kiss was a collision of emotions — trepidation, respect, and a burgeoning desire that neither could deny any longer.

Halsin's heart raced as Minthara's hands began to travel along his neck and chest. The tension was overwhelming, stirring a primal urge within that threatened to overpower him. His skin started to prickle, the edges of his vision blurred as his body instinctively began the process of shifting into his bear form. Minthara abruptly pulled away, the sudden separation jarring him back to his senses, gasping as he struggled to maintain his elven form at all costs.

"I... I'm sorry," Halsin stammered, his voice thick with apology as he fought to regain control over his shifting. "Sometimes, when the blood runs hot enough..." He trailed off, his words catching in his throat, unable to fully articulate the inner battle he faced. The frustration and despair mingled on his features, a plea for understanding in his gaze.

Minthara's expression was a mix of exasperation and composed curiosity as her eyes bore into his, probing the depths of his turmoil with an intensity that left him feeling utterly exposed. “I’m flattered I have that effect on you.” She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing his words, a hint of a challenge in her eyes. "But tame your inner beast, Halsin," she commanded, her voice firm and unyielding. Halsin felt a shiver run down his spine, both from her words and the intensity of her gaze. Then, to his surprise, a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Unless you want me to tame it for you," she added, her tone carrying a seductive edge that left him momentarily breathless.

Halsin watched as Minthara turned away, her movements smooth and commanding, her back straight, hands clasped behind her like she owned every step. There was something about the way she spoke, how she moved — it sent a shiver through him, one that he welcomed. Every word she uttered seemed to press down on him, but in a way that he craved, as if the weight of her authority was exactly what he needed in the moment.

"I'll be in your quarters," she said, her gaze flicking over him like she already knew he wouldn’t refuse. And she was right. "Do not keep me waiting."

Halsin watched Minthara’s figure disappear, his heart pounding, his breath ragged as the primal urge surged through him. The bear within clawed at the edges of his mind, its raw power threatening to take control. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, desperately trying to focus on steadying the rhythm of his breathing. His fists clenched, nails pressing into his palms, grounding him in the present. He whispered a prayer to Sylvanus, seeking guidance, and as his hand rose to his chest, a soft light flickered at his fingertips. He placed it against his heart, and an unseen wave of tranquility washed over him³. His face, once taut with the strain of keeping his instincts at bay, gradually softened. The storm inside him ebbed, and he imagined the bear retreating, its growls quieting to a gentle hum.

With the beast slipping back into the shadows of his mind, Halsin braced himself to face Minthara once more.

³ I tried to depict the Calm Emotions spell.

< Part 21 |