#( don’t know how she even was able to get tadpoled but )

[oioend]

thinking on what aris [placeholder name ] and what if she’s a fiend / fey … would that even be a possibility?

[thoughts-of-bear]

The birthday gift

A Halsin x reader fanfiction | Explicit, 18+ | 7k words A/N: Okay since the Halsin brainrot has had its hold on me for ages, I started this fic on my birthday in december, not expecting to ever finish it because I have literally never finished anything I've started writing before- until now. I got inspired to write this by this post (for the birthday part, the smut part is my own horny imagination) and well, this is the final product. Since it's my first time publishing any of my writing and writing smut at all, please be kind with me XD Summary: Your companions prepare a surprise birthday party for you, Halsin sees you in your new dress, you two dancing leads to him confessing his feelings for you and a very happy ending... CW: halsin x f!reader, virgin reader, halsin eating pussy, fingering, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex i guess, halsin being the man he is, all that stuff idk what to write here really

I hope you enjoy it, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

You and your companions had finally reached Baldur’s Gate. It’s still morning when you enter Rivington that day and the streets are busy with all kinds of people, many seemingly refugees from Elturel and farther away, here to find shelter in the city. As you continue down the road to the village in front of the city gates, you are stopped by a little red-headed girl.

“Erm. ‘Scuse me, I can’t find my mum.” She looks worn out and as if she has recently been crying.

“Where did you last see her?” you ask as you bend down to her, smiling to show you want to help.

“She went to go get some herbs - for her spots” she gestures towards her face. “She was sick. And she was supposed to come back the same day.” She pauses before adding, “That was last tenday though.”

“Let’s go find a guard. They’ll be able to help you”, you propose.

The girl shakes her head. “Guards blow like petards. They don’t help us.”

Your heart sinks at these words. It seems all these people were here because the city wouldn’t take them in. And the guards are no help either, apparently. You wonder what happened to your city, where once everyone was welcome.

Halsin sighs and shakes his head in disapproval. “This city is a poor place to be in need of help. Even the guards can’t be trusted to protect the most vulnerable.”

You silently agree and think of how you could help that girl. You decide to spare a few coins, so she can buy herself some food.

“I don’t know where your mum is, but here - take a few coins”, you offer her, not able to tell her that her mother is most likely dead. Halsin smiles at you warmly as you shoot him a quick glance, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh - erm. Thank you so much! I don’t have anything and you can’t do anything without any coin”, the little girl exclaims, bobbing on her toes and suddenly looking a little less tired. “I’ll pay you back. When I find my mum.” She turns around and bolts. “No need, it’s a gift!” you call after her but she has already vanished in the crowd.

You finally arrive at Wyrm’s Rock Crossing in the evening, after you had snuck past one of the new city guards - the so-called Steel Watch - and promised to investigate the murder of the local Ilmater priest. Another incident that seems to fuel the hate towards the refugees.

And that isn’t even all. The city is closed, even for you as a Baldurian, and to get in you’d need an Admission Pass - or wings. You sigh. You just want to get into the city, rent a room in the Elfsong and think about what to do next, now that the Absolute’s army must soon be upon the city.

It’s all too much and too little time. And you can’t just turn away from the people you met in Rivington either, they need help just as much as you need to find out how to beat the Absolute’s Chosen and get rid of the tadpoles.

When you make your way around camp that evening, checking up on your companions, Halsin notices your exhaustion, the way you slump your shoulders and how your usually impeccable stance falters. He wants to relieve you of at least a bit of the tension, so when you walk over to him, he offers you a massage. The things he wants to say to you can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you, Halsin”, you accept, his hands turning you around and gently pushing you down to sit on your knees before him. You sigh as his broad hands knead the tension from your back and by the time he is finished, you feel like a sleepy, boneless lump of flesh, muscles completely relaxed. You thank Halsin again before you retire to your bedroll, the hopeful thought that the offer might’ve been more than Halsin’s usual kindness crossing your mind before you drift off to sleep.

The next evening, you were finally inside the city walls. You consider the new information of the day. How you got your hands on an invitation to the celebration at Wyrm’s rock fortress, your disbelief to see that it was Lord Gortash’s coronation as Arch Duke, how he made the tadpoled Duke Ravengard give up his power and how Bane’s Chosen then proposed an alliance against Orin, the shapeshifter that had already approached you in Rivington. You had agreed to kill her, but you definitely wouldn’t leave Gortash his Netherstone. But that is a problem for another day. You had managed to get a room in the Elfsong Tavern and as usual you make your way through it to hear what your companions think of all that had happened today. Most approve of your decision. Halsin is the last person you speak to and as always, he has just the right words to ease your worries. For now, at least.

“Wait-”, he grabs your arm before you can leave. “I didn’t thank you yet.” His large hand is warm and makes your skin tingle where it touches you.

“Thank me? For what?” He chuckles at your puzzled look. “For all that you did in Rivington yesterday. You have so many worries and yet you still go out of your way to help those in need. The way you made that little girl smile, or how you didn’t hesitate to investigate what happened to that Ilmater priest.” A blush creeps up your cheeks as he continues. “I’m afraid Nature’s balance can never be restored in a city like this, but seeing what you do every day without expecting anything in return gives me hope. And for that I thank you.” You smile up at him, lost for words with your heart beating fast.

“I appreciate you saying this. I wish I could to more, to help everyone, but if I can at least do a little good, it’s worth the exhaustion at the end of the day”, you eventually admit with a smile. Halsin grins. “You’re too modest. I wager you don’t even know how extraordinary you truly are.” Your cheeks blush an even deeper red at those words and only when you retire to bed for the evening does your heart resume its normal pace again. But the warm feeling Halsin’s presence gave you remained for the night.

After you had the first proper breakfast since your crash with the Nautiloid, you feel ready to explore the city and find out how to best deal with all your problems. You hadn’t particularly missed the bustle and noise of your old home, but you can’t help feeling safer now that you were in familiar surroundings again.

Gale proposed to go to Sorcerous Sundries, both to find out more about the Elderbrain’s crown and to see what the wizard there wants with your companion Nightsong. Since you don’t have an idea where to find Orin yet, you figure that this is as good as any other thing you could be doing. 

The way from Elfsong to the magic shop isn’t far and you still have some time before it opens, so you decide to stop by the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette to update yourself on any news you had missed in your absence and struggle with the Absolute.

Scanning the title page, you notice the date in the corner and your brows shoot up in surprise. Noticing this, Gale asks if you found anything important in the newspaper.

“No, it’s just that I realised today is my birthday and I've completely forgotten about it. That means we have been on the road for more than two months already”, you wonder aloud before you add, “It doesn’t feel that long.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate of course!” Gale exclaims happily. You smile at his enthusiasm but shake your head. “We have bigger problems for now. Let’s see what this Lorroakan wants with Dame Aylin and then get on with our business. Besides,” you shrug, “we didn’t celebrate birthdays in my monastery anyways so I won’t miss anything.”

“If you say so,” Gale replies and you turn your attention back towards the page you were studying before.

You had already forgotten about the conversation as you come into your chamber in the Elfsong, grateful for the few minutes alone during the bath you had taken and the respite for your tired body.

But the moment you enter the room, Karlach and Shadowheart drag you to a set dinner table, laden with the most delicious food you could imagine. There aren’t your ordinary fish heads and the mouldy bread you usually have to call supper, instead delicious smelling pork roasts, pies, glazed carrots and potatoes, deep red apples and more pile atop the table, all lovingly placed around a huge flower bouquet in the middle of it.

You are so overwhelmed by the amount of work your friends must’ve put into this, that you can only stutter a ‘thank you’ before Karlach announces, “Happy birthday soldier! Halsin, Gale and Shadowheart here told us that today is your birthday and you never had a proper party before, so we decided to prepare you a little something!” With a grin she gestures from the table to one of the unoccupied beds, where a few packages are placed.

“You brought me presents too? You really didn’t have to!” you exclaim in surprise. You are so touched that your friends -among all the trouble- still found time to prepare the presents and this party for you that you feel tears well up in your eyes.

“Darling, no need to cry,” Astarion laughs as he pushes you onto your designated chair. “This is a party and not a funeral! Go ahead and enjoy yourself, it’s your special day after all!”

With a sniff and a small chuckle at Astarion’s words you sit down properly. He is right, of course, and you all clearly enjoy having a small break from the worries you faced at the moment.

Smiling hesitantly, you grab some meat and vegetables and start to eat - it really is delicious. You revel in the laughter and conversations with your friends, your weariness from todays fight forgotten for the moment.

When all of you can’t possibly eat any more, Karlach drags you over to the bed with the presents. You can tell she is excited to see if you like the few things your companions managed to get you in the time they had for preparing, so you start unpacking.

The first present contains a book on the monastery you were raised in, with a handwritten note from Gale:

“I’m sure you already know most information this book has to offer, but I thought it might still bring you comfort and remind you of home.” You thank him with a tight hug and carefully place the book into your bag.

The next package is a bottle of the finest liquor of the Elfsong Tavern, plus a sparkler for every one of your companions which Karlach sets of immediately.

Laughing at her shenanigans, you reach for the last and biggest present. It is wrapped in red paper and decorated with a little white bow. You wonder where your companions had managed to find all those things while you carefully pull the paper open. Soon a dress falls out of the packaging and you gaze at it in awe. Your fingers trace the deep forest green fabric, intricate silver and gold patterns weaved into it.

“This is beautiful, thank you, truly!” you say earnestly. You still can’t quite believe that all this should be for you. “I thought you would like it”, smiles Shadowheart. “And I’m certain it will suit you beautifully. Go now - try it on!” she urges you.

You walk to the bathroom which still smells of the quince-scented soap you had used for your bath a few hours before. While changing, you bask in that warm feeling in your chest these moments among your friends always grant you. Whatever problems you had encountered, in your opinion they have all been worth it just for the people you found and let into your heart along the way. As cheesy as that sounds.

You regard yourself in the mirror. The dress is cut low and close-fitting, capturing your cleavage in a very flattering way. Maybe too flattering, if you think about it too much. This isn’t something you’d usually wear, but you have to admit that you like the way the dress looks on you. A bit insecure you go back into your room, where you are greeted with approving cheers and whistles from your friends.

“You look absolutely stunning”, Shadowheart admires. “I knew it would look good on you! Turn around please”, she commands. You do what you are told, with red cheeks at the compliment.

When you face Shadowheart again, you notice Halsin gazing at you with pure admiration - and something else you can’t quite place. You think you notice a golden shimmer in his eyes, but that could be a trick of the light considering all the candles in the room.

“I must admit, your neck looks very tempting in that dress but I know someone who is a lot hungrier for you than me right now”, Astarion remarks with a wicked grin and a sideward glance. You frown at him, though you can’t help your heart skipping a beat at these words. Could he possibly mean Halsin?

“Now, what would a party be without some music and dance?” Wyll interrupts your thoughts and as if these words have summoned her, the bard the party had met in the druid grove appears in the doorway.

“Alfira!” you exclaim happily and immediately rush over to hug her. “I’m so glad you got to Baldur’s Gate alright!”

Alfira grins at you. “Yes, thanks to you and your friends here. When they reached out to me today and told me it was your birthday, I just had to come! Wyll organised everything.” You nod to him in thanks. “Now, I don’t have anything to give you but just tell me what you want to hear and I will play it for you!”

“Thanks, Alfira, that’s more than enough for me”, you beam and lead her into the room towards your group. “Wyll, now is your chance to show me your dancing!” You say as you take his hand and pull him into the middle of the room, then you grab Karlach and Gale and start to move to the tune Alfira started to play. Karlach swirls you around and Wyll shows you the dance moves from court, which -to be honest- remind you a bit of the mating dances you had seen with a few bird species.

Out of breath from all the dancing and laughing, you request a slower tune from the tiefling bard. You manage to persuade Shadowheart to put away her wine for a moment and start to waltz around the room with her. She is quite the good dancer and you wonder where she had learned it, with her being raised in a Sharran temple and everything.

At the next tune, you approach Halsin. With your head light from the wine, you have finally gathered the courage to ask him for what you have secretly thought about the whole time.

Still, you can feel your heart beating in your throat. “Erm…Halsin, w-would you honour me with a dance?” you eventually manage to mumble out shyly.

“Of course, little flower. Whatever your heart desires.” That particular heart skips a beat at his intimate tone. “Although you might wish you hadn’t asked me that once you’ve seen my dancing”, he adds with a chuckle as he takes your hand.

He leads you into the room and starts to swirl you around to the melody of Alfira’s lute. He definitely isn’t as graceful as Shadowheart but certainly not as bad as he has made it sound. But even if he’d had the dancing skills of a bugbear, you wouldn’t have noticed. His large and warm hand around your waist and the smile with which he regards you sends your pulse through the ceiling. His smell of pine and honey and fresh air intoxicates you and it is hard to keep your feet from getting tangled in your dress.

When he leans down to you, you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. “Before you go and mingle again, I still have a present for you. I wasn’t sure if you would even like it”, he admits, “but I have decided to give it to you anyways.” When the tune ends, he leads you to the space in your room where his bed stands and bends down to search his pack.

You think about how long it took you to realise how attracted you are to the druid as you admire his strong back before you. Of course, you have noticed his kindness and compassion and you have always marvelled at the way he drew strength from nature. But only since you had some kind of break these last days have you begun to understand the depth of your affection for the man before you. It runs deeper than mere friendship and the echo of his hands on your back have awoken a hunger inside you that only grows stronger the more you look at Halsin. How desperately you hope that he feels the same way about you…

When he stands up to turn around, you quickly brush away the thought that has sent the heat into your cheeks again.

“You’re the only one who knows of my secret passion”, he begins jokingly, “so I thought you might accept this as my present for your special day.” He hands you a small whittled duck he has apparently made in the hours you were away from camp. You can’t help but tear up at the thought of how much effort he has put into all the details he has carved. There are even small webbed feet on the underside of the little duck.

“Thank you Halsin, this is an amazing gift!” You smile down at the little duck. “You are amazing”, you add quietly.

“With all that you have done for me, I should be the one thanking you night and day.” As you look into his eyes again you see that his gaze is now very solemn. “There was another reason for wanting to speak to you privately. I have lived a very long time. I have taken many lovers. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does now.” Your heart flutters in recognition of his words, the confession sending sparks across your skin.

“I want more than to fight at your side, or to sit around the campfire with you. I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine.” Halsin’s gaze on you is intense, filling your chest with a burning heat that slowly spreads lower into your belly, as if the wine you have been drinking suddenly caught on fire inside of you.

Halsin continues, “I think you feel the same way - but tell me I’m wrong and the matter can rest. I do not wish to sour our friendship, but I have to know if it can be something more.”

You stare at him for a moment before you realise that he waits for your answer.

“Y-you’re not wrong, far from it”, you whisper. “I would like that very much.” You smile up at him and he takes your hand in his.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes out, relieved. You nod and he bends down to gently press his lips on yours.

His hand slides up your arm and to your back while he places his other behind your head, gently pulling you closer and deepening the kiss.

You feel his tongue prodding at your lips, demanding entrance and you happily oblige. The feeling of his soft lips on yours sends you spiralling and you can’t stifle the small moan that escapes you. Halsin sends out a silent prayer to Silvanus - if that is all it takes to make you moan, what sounds do you make when he finally gets to taste you? Groaning, his hand on your back slowly wanders lower, a silent question of permission in his eyes. You press your body against his as an answer, feeling the heat radiating off his chest … and lower.

Halsins hand grips your ass firmly, making you gasp, the other joining in and hoisting you up on his hips, turning you both around and pressing your back to the wall. You cannot stop the surprised squeak that escapes your lips at the sudden movement and Halsin presses his mouth on yours to stifle it.

The feeling of the growing bulge in his pants between your legs and the low moan Halsin utters before kissing you even more vigorously sends a shiver down your spine, pressure starting to build between your thighs.

In a desperate attempt to pull him closer, your hands grip Halsin’s hair, arms, everything you can reach. But before you can lose yourself in him, Halsin releases your lips, panting, and rests his forehead against yours.

“I would very much like to continue”, he whispers, his breathing ragged and voice hoarse with desire, “but the others will expect us back and I think you would probably like a bit more privacy.” He sighs and softly kisses your hair. “I will come to your bed when the party has ended, little flower. But don’t expect much sleep”, he adds with a wicked grin. You can only nod as he gently props you back on your feet.

With your head spinning, you get back to the others, averting your eyes from the knowing smirks of Astarion and Shadowheart noticing your ruffled hair and flushed cheeks. You ignore them, trying to engage in some more conversation and one or two dances while the thought of what awaits you won’t leave your head.

When the last of the party finally bids you goodnight, you hurry to bed, awaiting Halsin. You can’t get away from the echoes of his hands on your body, heart already racing again and warmth blooming in your belly. Even if he hadn’t promised you he’d come tonight, you would’ve been unable to sleep.

A soft rustle next to your ear startles you from your thoughts and as you turn your head, you could make out Halsin’s large figure in the dark, crouching beside your bed.

He cuts you off from what you wanted to say by placing a finger on your mouth, his other hand sliding under your back and pulling you into an upright position. With your heart beating into your throat, you take the hand Halsin offers as he gently beckons you to follow him into the corridor outside of the room the party shares, then further into a small but cosy bedroom on the next floor.

The door closes with a click and before you can say anything, Halsin sweeps you up into his arms, pressing you flat against the door and capturing your lips in a kiss that feels like it burns you from the inside.

Halsin’s fresh, earthy scent floods your senses as your tongues intertwine and your hands find their way into his hair, tugging at his braids. You whine when Halsin lets go of your lips, only to gasp as he starts nibbling and placing searing kisses on your jaw while his hands squeeze your ass firmly, bringing your bodies as close together as possible.

You moan at the growing ache between your thighs but plant your small fists against his shoulders anyway, gently pushing him away a bit. Halsin’s eyes, pupils wide and dark with desire, find yours.

“What is it my heart?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Do you want me to stop?” You see no disappointment in his gaze, only worry and your heart swells at how selfless your lover is. You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed to tell what troubles you.

“I- I j-just wanted t-to say that … um … well, I- I have never been with someone before”, you mumble eventually, averting your gaze as you blush furiously.

“Silvanus, preserve me”, Halsin groans out before almost dropping you and stumbling backwards, trying to steady himself on the small desk opposite the bed. With wide eyes you regard what is happening before you. Halsin drops to his knees, a deep animalistic growl coming from his lips as his eyes fill with golden light and he transforms into his huge bear form.

You gasp and nearly trip over your feet in an attempt to make room for the bear before you, but the animal fills almost the entire chamber. After finally regaining his composure, Halsin manages to change back into his elf form, with a snarl and a ragged breath coming from his lips.

“Forgive me. I- lost the run of myself.” He shakes his head in disgust at his outbreak, terrified that he has ruined this precious moment with you before it could properly begin, and slowly gets back to his feet. “Sometimes, when blood runs hot enough, it’s difficult to tame the beast. And the thought of you trusting me enough to share your first time with me … well, you saw what happened”, he smiles tentatively, slowly approaching you again with hesitation in his eyes.

“Don’t apologise”, you assure him with a shy smile. “I like it.” If possible, you blush even harder now. “Maybe for another time…?” you add, fidgeting nervously with the front of your dress.

A relieved grin spreads over Halsin’s face. “You like it..?”, he chuckles. “You are full of surprises, little flower.” As he steps forward, he bends down to gently plant a kiss on your cheek, only to proceed to bite at your earlobe which elicits a delicious moan from you.

“I’m glad you think so, but now you’ve made it even harder for me not to outright devour you”, his low voice whispers in your ear. “Nevertheless, I will be gentle. Or at least I’ll try to be.” You swallow hard, arousal sending shivers down your spine.

Halsin’s arms wrap around your waist again as he kisses your jaw, your forehead and nose, until eventually his lips find yours again, his tongue ravaging you like a man starving. His hands, this time directly shoving under your dress, firmly grip your thighs. He ruts against you, growling, his now rock-hard cock pressing against the confinements of his clothing.

His fingers trail higher up, kneading your ass, then stroking the soft skin of your back before slowly wandering even higher. His touch sends jolts through your body and you can feel the heat between your legs, already nearly too much to bear.

His eyes hold an unspoken question and when you nod, Halsin lifts your dress off and brings his mouth down on one of your breasts, the hand that’s not on your back now gently kneading the other, massaging the hardened nipple between his fingers. You mewl at the sensation, impossibly more pressure building between your thighs. Halsin gently bites down at your breast, only to run his tongue over it afterwards to soothe the mark he made. You moan and arch your back, desperately trying to press closer against Halsin’s still overly clothed erection, wanting to feel everything of him.

He growls and his mouth begins to place kisses down your front, between your breasts, on the soft flesh of your belly until he is on his knees before you, his warm breath fanning over you and flooding you with heat.

“More?” he asks, his pupils blown wide with lust, as his thumbs brush the soft skin between your legs. “Please”, you whine, knees almost too weak to stand and your underwear already embarrassingly soaked.

Halsin wastes no time, pressing kisses on the insides of your thighs, his one hand holding you in place and his other slowly -too slowly- sliding your panties down your legs. The sight of you bare and dripping with need before him almost makes him lose control again, makes him want to take you, devour you, fuck you, mark you and then fill you to the brim with his cum but with a groan he wills himself to calm down and be gentle with you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t.

He exhales deeply, lifting one of your legs up and slowly swiping his tongue through your wet folds, which earns him a choked gasp. His nose nudges your clit as his tongue starts stroking, slowly at first, then faster and with more pressure. You can’t help the way each expert swipe of his tongue makes your hips buck into his mouth as countless moans and sighs fall out of your mouth. Halsin growls in response, the vibrations around your sensitive bud making your legs shake. You can barely keep up and the coil in your belly is tightening ever faster with Halsin’s mouth sucking your clit and his tongue inside you.

“You are sweeter than honey, my heart”, he groans as his tongue presses flat against you. “Let me taste you as you come undone on my tongue.” With your mind clouded with lust, all you can do is moan out Halsin’s name and press yourself further against your lover’s mouth.

He understands anyway, now slowly dragging a thick finger through your dripping folds until he stops, teasingly pressing against your entrance. You whine, begging him to fill you, to do anything to release the overwhelming pressure between your thighs. When he finally thrusts into you, you can’t stifle the cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth. With Halsin’s finger now working your cunt open, his mouth continues its ministrations, licking and sucking your clit, soaking your legs with your slick.

With a wicked grin, Halsin inserts a second finger into your quivering hole, pushing inside over and over again, holding you firmly in place as you try to writhe away from the intense pleasure. His fingers coil upwards in response, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Please Halsin…”, you beg, toes curling and legs shaking, “I’m close- I- Oh!“

Moaning into your cunt, Halsin picks up his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you as his tongue swipes over your clit again and again, bringing you closer to your end.

One more thrust with his fingers and a soft nip of his teeth against the sensitive bud between your legs is all it needs to send you spiralling over the edge. “Ha- Halsin!” you cry out, hips jerking violently and fingers digging into his shoulders as your orgasm hits you with the force of a lightning bolt. He moans at the sensations of your walls contracting around his fingers, the urge to take you and feel you squeeze his cock with your needy cunt almost overwhelming him.

You whine when he pulls his fingers out and stands up, bringing you in for a passionate kiss as you still struggle to regain your breath. Tasting yourself on Halsin’s tongue pulls a small moan from you and an embarrassed heat creeps up your back at the thought of how aroused you already are again.

With a smile, Halsin pulls away. “You are amazing, little flower”, he whispers breathlessly as he picks you up and gently places you on the bed, admiring your flushed body.

If Halsin’s tongue hadn’t just turned your mind to goo, you might have been able to return that compliment, but alas-

“May I go further?” Halsin asks and when you nod he swiftly discards of his clothes, you licking your lips at the sight of the elf naked before you. Your eyes take in his form, from his muscled arms down to the soft curve of his belly and- oh gods. Your eyes widen. You didn’t think he would be that big and the thought of him filling you makes you gulp down a mixture of fear and arousal.

Attentive as always, Halsin notices your insecurity and bends down to press gentle kisses against your ear. “We don’t have to do this, my heart…”, he whispers while he rubs soothing circles into your hips. He looks at you, his expression earnest. You bite your lip, thinking for a moment before answering. “N-no, I want this”, you assure him, your voice still weak but pleading now. The way you look so sweet with your little fangs on your lips makes Halsin feral and he kisses you again, desperate and more passionate this time. He groans into the kiss as he gently spreads your legs for him, lining up his tip with your dripping slit and sliding through your soft folds before stopping just at your entrance. The sensation of his hard length so close to entering you is enough to make your head fall back, eyes squeezed shut. “If it’s getting too much, tell me and I will stop immediately”, he whispers soothingly. “Now relax for me, little flower.”

All thoughts leave your head as Halsin slides in, agonizingly slow. The stretch would be painful if your lover hadn’t prepared you so thoroughly beforehand, but now you only feel pure bliss. Raising your head, you can see that he isn’t even halfway in but gods, you feel so full already that you can’t stifle the choked gasp that escapes your throat.

“You’re doing so well, my heart. Just a little bit more- mngh-!“ Halsin’s growl sends jolts through your spine as he finally bottoms out. You can see just how much effort it takes him to hold back by the way his jaw tenses and his chest is heaving.

“By Silvanus, you’re so tight-!“ A shiver crawls down his back, carrying a wave of soft golden light with it, as Halsin’s eyes light up with his magic for a moment. The thought of how you are able to bring your lover to the precipice of losing control is extremely flattering and you feel yourself clenching around Halsin’s cock, making him grunt in response. Finally somewhat accustoming to his size, you arch your back into the mattress below you. The new angle makes you moan in pleasure as you grip the sheets for support.

“Are you still feeling good, little flower?”, Halsin asks as he slides a hand from your hip under your back to support you. You can only form one thought. “More- please Halsin!” you whine desperately. You don’t have to ask twice, with a low growl he slides out - just to knock the breath out of you with his first, hard thrust. He sets a steady pace, one that leaves you moaning and gasping out his name. Halsin takes your small hands into his, pressing them into the bed beside you to pin you down, pushing into you deep and slow while he places bites and kisses on your throat and chest that will surely leave marks come morning.

Gods, Halsin thought. The sight of your small body sprawled beneath him, split apart by his thick cock while he fucks into you relentlessly is driving him insane. He is growling with every thrust now and each one of them makes you cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long until he has you on the precipice of release again, your cunt fluttering around Halsin’s length.

“H- halsin- please! I’m so close!” you can only beg, not sure if you can take much more, your body feeling like it might explode. “Come for me, my heart”, Halsin demands in a gravelly voice before pressing a thumb to your clit, rubbing and massaging until his name leaves your lips in a hoarse cry as your orgasm hits you with full force. Your hips jerk upwards, walls clenching around Halsin as you notice the tears from the overwhelming pleasure streaming down your face. He continues to pound into you, prolonging your release and muttering praises for you under his breath.

Through the fog in your mind you wonder how Halsin still has the energy to keep going, his pace unwavering while you are completely spent, gladly accepting whatever your lover has to give you as long as you’re not required to move.

So, you do not see it coming when Halsin suddenly pulls out of you, the unexpected emptiness making you whine in displeasure, only for him to flip you over and press your chest into the soft bedding while he gently raises your hips.

“I know it’s a lot right now but I need you to cum for me one more time, my heart”, Halsin huffs with a strained voice, pushing inside you once more and grabbing a fistful of your hair to keep you in place. The new position lets him slide even deeper than before and you can’t help the strangled cry that leaves you when Halsin starts pounding into you again, hitting a spot that makes your eyes roll back with blinding pleasure.

“’s too much- please-!” you sob, your poor overstimulated clit still trying to recover from the last orgasm. But Halsin doesn’t relent and you can feel sharp pricks on your hips where his hand grips you, fingers partially wild-shaped into claws and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Seeing just how feral you drive him makes your hole clench around his shaft, the squeeze causing his hips to stutter as a grunt leaves his lips. “Silvanus preserve me”, Halsin pants as he fucks into you even faster, “if you keep squeezing me like that I will not be able to stop myself from claiming you completely, from making you mine and filling you up with my seed.”

You whimper at the image of Halsin pumping his cum into you, fucking it deep into your womb until he is sure that it has taken hold. You cannot pretend you haven’t thought about it before, the idea usually sending an embarrassed heat into your cheeks, but now - gods, now you needed it.

Completely breathless you moan, “Halsin I- ah-! please-! Fill me with your cubs!” These words were the last needed for Halsin to lose himself completely in you, driving himself into you with punishing strokes that cause you to arch yourself into him while moans and whispered curses fall from both your lips. The coil in your stomach is so tight again and when Halsin takes the hand from your hip to softly press on your lower belly you see stars. Your walls clench around Halsin’s cock and you feel him twitch inside you, a sign that he too is close to release. All it takes to send you over the edge is his finger pressed against your clit, your body shaking violently beneath him, toes curling, while waves of ecstasy course through you and you cry out his name.

With a last snap of his hips and a low moan, Halsin comes as well, twitching cock releasing hot spurts of cum inside your still fluttering walls. He continues to pump into you until the aftershocks of your shared orgasm have subsided, before he slowly pulls out. You collapse onto the mattress, exhaustion settling over your overstimulated body.

Halsin gets onto the bed with you, gently gathering you up in his arms and placing your head against his broad chest. “You’ve done so well for me, little flower”, he whispers into your ear, placing soft kisses on your face before he looks your body up and down. One of his hands comes up to stroke a strand of hair away from your damp forehead and to gently lift your chin in order to look you in the eyes. You note worry in his gaze, his brows furrowed in remorse when he plants a feather light kiss on your lips.

“I’ve hurt you”, he states. “I’m so sorry, my heart. I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

You smile up at him and cuddle deeper into his arms before you shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I loved every second of it. There is no birthday present in this world that can ever match this”, you confess with a shy grin. “Although I have to admit I’m a little sore. You sure did your best to make sure I’m unable to walk tomorrow.”

Halsin chuckles. “I can help with that”, he answers with a sly smile, his free hand sliding down your body to stroke through your soft folds, muttering an incantation under his breath. As the familiar glow of the healing spell engulfs his fingers, you feel a rush of warmth where he touches you. A moan escapes your lips before you could stop it, eliciting a mischievous smirk from your lover as you hide your face against his chest in embarrassment.

“I’d be happy to go again, my love, but I think you need some rest first. Besides, we still have an Elderbrain to kill, so we’ll need our strength tomorrow.” You nod at that, the tiredness in your bones leaving you unable to object, even if you had wanted to. But you know he is right, so when Halsin wraps a blanket around you to carry you to the bathroom, you just relax into his chest, the sound of his steady breathing soothing you.

When the bathtub is filled with warm water, you are already half asleep, barely registering that Halsin is gently cleaning you up, rinsing the sweat from your hair and body and rubbing salve over the bite marks and the bruises on your hips once you are dry again.

You can hear the soft snores and deep breathing from your companions when Halsin brings you back into the room you share, all of them already fast asleep. Absentmindedly you wonder how long you and Halsin have been away, but the thought is gone as soon as Halsin places you on your bed.

“Goodnight, my little flower. Sleep well.” He gives you a kiss and turns to leave. You manage to grab his hand before he does, stopping him in his tracks.

“Stay with me tonight?” you mumble sleepily. Halsin smiles, warmth and adoration filling his chest as he carefully climbs next to you, the bedframe creaking slightly with his additional weight, and wraps his arms around your smaller figure. The thought of how your companions might react in the morning seeing you two in one bed briefly crosses your mind, but Halsin’s steady breathing and the soft pulse of his heart against your back soon drown out anything else as you drift to sleep in his warm embrace.

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

Part 2 is here now!

[eyebagshawty]

Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav

A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!

Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin

Part 2

Lae’zel

• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.

• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”

• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.

• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”

You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.

“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.

“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.

“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.

“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”

With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.

Karlach

•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.

• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.

• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow

• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”

• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET

She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.

“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.

“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.

“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.

“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.

“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”

Shadowheart

•She immediately says no

•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence

•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.

• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.

•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in

After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”

She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”

You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.

“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”

She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Wyll

•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks

• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you

• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN

By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.

You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”

You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.

Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.

“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.

Gale

• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen

• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea

• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”

• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan

• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent

When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.

He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.

“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.

“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I’m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.

They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.

Astarion

• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him

• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things

• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care

• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has

• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled

When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.

Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.

“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.

“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.

“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.

“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”

You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”

Halsin

• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you

• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys

• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”

• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things

You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.

On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.

“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.

“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.

“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”

He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.

[sserpente]

Magic Hands

Synopsis: Astarion teaches you how to use a dagger in battle. The sweaty training calls for a bath in the nearby river afterward and you can’t help but admire the vampire rogue in the pale moonlight, surrounded by the glistening water surface. He seems… tense. Perhaps you can repay him by giving him a gentle massage?

A/N: Why did this take me so long to write, oh my gods! :D

Words: 2038 Warnings: smut, mentions of sexual trauma

Your battle cry echoed across the entire campsite when you plunged your blade forward. Lae’zel’s makeshift mind flayer dummy was rendered with holes at this point, oozing hey from several rips in the old fabric she had used to craft it.

The impact had you sway to one side and you shifted your weight, your left arm flailing about clumsily.

“Good. Now try that again without losing your balance.”

You grunted, shooting him an angry glance. He had his sleeves rolled up, and his arms crossed before his chest. It was almost distracting. Almost.

You had been at it for hours. Granted, it had been your idea—if you were going to survive this involuntary adventure, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. You were surprised you’d even made it this far. And, since attacking from the shadows was much more your cup of tea than storming headfirst into battle like Wyll or Lae’zel, you’d kindly asked Astarion to help you out.

He was a tough and strict teacher, you had to give him that. But you were making quick progress too. Before today, you hadn’t even been able to hold a dagger properly.

You withdrew your weapon and returned to your original position.

“Ah-ah-ah. No, darling. What did we just learn?” His teasing voice went down like butter. That was even more distracting.

Astarion pointed at your left foot. You shifted in the dirt, creating a grovelling noise.

“There we go. Now try again.”

You did as you were told, lunging at the dummy once more. Astarion tutted at you when you lost your balance yet again.

“Hey, don’t tut me!”

“I see where the problem lies now. Go on. Get back in position.”

Grunting once more, you obeyed. What you were not prepared for, however, was that he would step right behind you and place his hands on your stomach and waist. You sucked in a deep breath, tensing up.

“Keep tension here. You’ll want to make sure that lovely core of yours keeps you on your feet.”

Memories from your night in the woods came flooding back, sending you down a spiral of pleasure and arousal. You cleared your throat.

“Okay. I got it. I think.”

The sensation of loss was nearly overwhelming when he let go again. You could have sworn you saw him smirk from the corner of your eye.

You got into position again, took a deep breath, and… struck.

“Good girl.” You would have dropped the dagger had it not been lodged deeply within the mindflayer dummy. “Again.”

Again. Again and again and again until Astarion was certain you got the hang of it. Your arms were burning by the time he clapped and finally let you off the hook for the day.

“Be honest, you’re enjoying this a little.”

The vampire smirked. “More than just a little, darling.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, forcing you to bite your lower lip. “Whatever. I should get washed.”

“Hmm, so should I.”

You offered him a smile. Making your way toward the lake, you walked past Lae’zel who was sharpening her sword, Karlach who was dancing to a song only audible to her, and Gale practicing little magic tricks. Wyll and Halsin were with Shadowheart, talking and drinking by the fireplace.

You sighed. It could have been peaceful if it wasn’t for the imminent threat of a tadpole turning you all into thralls.

Once you reached the shore, there was no hesitation in your movements. You stripped off your clothes, knowing the bushes would hide you from unwanted eyes. As for Astarion… well… there was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

The vampire followed suit though you did notice that he avoided your gaze as he undressed. You couldn’t help but watch him regardless as he waded into the water until he was submerged hip-deep.

“You look really fine in the moonlight, you know that?” you said, joining him swiftly.

“Of course I do, I’m a vampire, darling.” He swam closer to you, allowing you to wrap your entire body around him. Astarion’s hands found your behind, squeezing gently.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered. His lips were cold when you met them with yours, a playful kiss soon turning into a passionate display of affection.

By the time you finally broke apart panting, Astarion rolled his shoulders with a groan.

“Is everything alright? You seem even tenser than me.”

“Oh well, it can’t be helped. Must be the weight of being a hero on my shoulders,” he spat with dismay. Oh yeah… he’d made it clear his interest in saving the refugees was ridiculously small. You had your theories on that… yet there was no way in the hells Astarion was a terrible person but rather… a person terrible things had happened to. The scars on his back spoke for themselves.

“I could help with that if you want,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Help? How?”

“This is gonna sound silly but I used to work as a massage therapist for a few years, back in Baldur’s Gate, I mean. I have magic hands. I know a lot of techniques to relieve back pain and back tension…” You trailed off, studying his reaction.

“Magic hands?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at you and somehow, you knew exactly what was going on in his mind. Relieving a different kind of tension at your celebration with the Tieflings was one thing… having someone work his back and stroke every inch of exposed skin with skilled hands, right over the scars that had brought him so much torment… that was another.

“You want to… well… I…”

“If you want to?”

“Well… I suppose…”

You tilted your head. He wanted to accept, you could tell. But was that… concern glistening in his red eyes?

“You know, I’m, uh… I’m not offering this to have sex with you again. I mean… I really, really enjoyed myself, Astarion but… I honestly feel like that’s the reason you’re being wary, isn’t it? Along with me, um… touching your scars.”

His lips parted.

“I just want to help. And only if you’ll let me.”

“Alright… fine.”

You nodded, the tension you didn’t realise had been building up inside of you leaving your body.

“Then come find me in my tent later.”

You left him some privacy after your swim, returning to your makeshift home to find anything you could use as a massage oil. You settled for an ointment in the end, one that Halsin usually used to treat wounds. It would do. You could hardly use a bottle of grease after all.

You were rather certain Astarion waited until the others were asleep on purpose. When he parted the fabric of your makeshift door and crouched down a little to come inside, you patted your bedroll and smiled at him.

His coyness was adorable. While before his heart-breaking confession, every single word that had left his lips was a flirt, he was but a frightened young man now, intimidated by intimacy.

“Lie down, my love. And… Astarion?”

His red eyes met yours as he followed your request and removed his shirt, once again revealing those horrifying scars to you.

“You need to stop me if you’re feeling uncomfortable, alright?”

The vampire spawn smirked. “How could I possibly feel uncomfortable with your skilled hands dancing over my body, pet?”

“You know what I mean.” You grinned, relieved that his smarm was not lost on him.

“Of course.”

“Now lie down on your belly and close your eyes.”

Astarion sighed and did as he was told. You straddled him, trifling some of the oil on your hands and rubbing them together before eventually… placing your palms on his bare back.

Your fingers glided over the ridges of his scars, your thumbs digging into the muscles, looking for any tension. You found it all too quickly, working knot after knot out of his tormented back.

Soon enough, he relaxed. His sigh was so innocent you couldn’t help but lean forward and place a gentle kiss between his shoulder blades.

You pampered him for a while, making sure to massage each and every spot on his back. You did not fail to miss the faint moan when you asked him to turn over so you could work on the rest of his body. Gods, you were enjoying this even more than he was.

Astarion’s gaze was filled with repose and… hunger. And when your eyes travelled further down, your lips parted and you realised why.

He was hard.

“Do you… do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t… you… dare…” he muttered, eyes half-closed still.

You bit your lower lip, oily hands gliding over his chest. It wasn’t just him. You were as wet as the river you’d bathed in just a few hours back and now that you were aware just how much your sensual treatment affected him, the arousal was nearly unbearable.

Breathing heavily, you swallowed and paused.

“How about… I have an idea.”

He sat up a little, propping himself on his elbows. “Oh?”

His sly smirk caught you entirely off guard though you were unsure whether he was merely trying to hide his insecurity behind it. He’d told you he didn’t want you to think of him in terms of sex for now and you would respect that wish. There was no need for you to act on your own excitement even if it drove you insane. But if he let you… you wanted to make him feel good so badly that it almost caused you physical discomfort.

“I could… take care of… that,” you muttered, pointing at the growing bulge in his trousers.

Astarion raised his eyebrows, passion glistening in those red eyes.

“Let me pamper you. No sex. I might as well give you a… full body massage at this point. And if it gets too much, you stop me.”

“We… we could try.” He nodded, lying back down but keeping his eyes wide open as you opened his trousers with gentle movements and pulled his erection free.

Astarion flinched when your oily hand wrapped around his hardening length, fingertips teasing him tenderly.

“Okay?”

He nodded.

“I need you to tell me with words, my love.”

Astarion cleared his throat. “Okay. That feels… nice.”

One thing you realised very quickly was that he had never experienced anything like this before. Someone who wished for nothing more than to bring him pleasure, to make him feel good, without expecting anything in return. To give him back his sensuality where only he and his well-being mattered without his body being sexualised or objectified…

It must have been such a novel concept to him… biting your lower lip, you began to stroke him with firm yet tender touches, your thumb gliding over his slit and rubbing over his tip.

He squirmed, bucking his hips in response with a quiet moan. It was enough of a reaction to urge you on, your movements quickening and adapting to his rapid breathing.

You paused when he uttered your name with a start.

“No… no, don’t stop, my love… don’t you dare stop…”

So you kept going, driving him to the edge with hungry ferocity. Gods, he looked so delicious. So carefree and innocent all because of you…

“I… I… I will…”

Astarion thrust up into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Pleasure flushed his entire face, his lips parting. He tensed up, his thighs shaking and his fingers clutching at the soft material of your bedroll. He came all over your hands and knuckles, ropes of seed clear evidence of his release. You helped him ride it out, squeezing every last drop from his pretty cock until he was spent and panting, his body relaxing again bit by bit.

“You look so beautiful when you come undone…” you whispered, wiping your hands on some rags you kept nearby.

He chuckled. “And you do have magic hands. I might have to ask you to do that again soon.”

You smiled, cuddling up to him with a smile. Neither of you bothered to get undressed completely. You were perfectly fine with falling asleep like this.

“Anytime, Astarion. Always.”

[phefics]

What about your bg3 cast and pushing their hair out of their face and comparing hand size? Just some headcanons would be awesome! I think it'd be cute! Thanks in advance! 🙏

𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 knows all about seduction, for the wrong reasons. when it comes to actual flirting, he ends up going the sexual route most of the time, not because he necessarily wants to, but because he isn’t sure how else to go about it. one day, you’re in camp, sewing up a tear in your clothes and astarion would comment that you have dainty hands, and when you insist that you don’t, he rolls his eyes and does the classic size-comparison touch. “much smaller than mine,” he says. “adorable.” and relishes im your embarrassed response.

as for hair, he notices it always gets in your face at inopportune times, like in the middle of a fight. the next time you spot enemies up ahead and plan to ambush them, astarion tells you to wait so he can tuck your hair behind your ears for you. “if you keep pushing all this hair out of your eyes, you’re giving them a good shot, and i’m not having your death on my conscience.”

𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡 notices so much about you before she is ever even able to touch you. she’s aware of the size-difference between you two and finds it cute, but always wishes she could pull you closer to compare it more accurately. she has craved the little things, like being able to fix your hair or help you tend to your wounds, but she knows it would be too dangerous to even risk. when her engine is fixed up, she’s able to do all that and more *wink wonk*

she likes holding your hand and commenting on how tiny it feels in hers, how much better it feels than wielding a weapon. and she would love to play with your hair, too, and fixing it when it’s in your face is fun too, because it flusters you. she jokes that when she makes you blush, you’re becoming the one with fiery skin.

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 is a little more of a romantic than she lets on, but not by much. when you get to know her and see her softer side, you realize that she is a pretty touchy person when she’s into you. she also isn't as tall as astarion or karlach, so her size difference with you isn't as pronounced. rather than comparing hand sizes, she likes to compare the callouses from wielding weapons on your hands, or things like scars. the wound on her hand is a talking point she normally avoids, but she'd tell you more about it during this.

sitting at the campire with her, she'll reach over and tuck your hair behind your ear, then act like it isn't a big deal. "it wouldn't be any help if your hair caught fire and i lost my chance to cure this tadpole." but she's blushing a little as she says it.

[lipstickghoulie]

•Loss of Innocence (Astarion/female Tav smut, praise kink, dirty talk, deflowering)•

💛

Astarion crooning out praise to her for being so good and letting him do this to her, reveling in every whimper that shudders out of her and the rivers of arousal that he is coaxing down her twitching thighs. “Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” He purrs out, making sure to pitch his voice just loud enough that it can be heard over the lewd noises of him pumping into her, stretching her open with every scissoring motion or come-hither twirl of those nimble digits. “You’re doing such a wonderful job, pet. Such a good girl for me. Maybe you’ll persuade me that you deserve my cock next if you keep this up, hm?”

She’s pleading for more, murmuring out a breathless “Astarion, please” that makes his dick stiffen even further. Precum is already oozing off of his cock head, sticking to her skin while he looms over her, connecting them more primally than the tadpoles linking their brains ever could. Astarion knows that things are getting vocal enough here, even with his tent flap closed, that the others will be able to overhear and the thought makes a slow, triumphant smirk crease his face.

He may have already implied to the rest of the group that there was more going on between him and their illustrious leader than just near-nightly feedings (even if that hadn’t been exactly true before tonight), dropping the most sly of insinuations that went right over inexperienced Tav’s head and made their companions exchange disappointed glances that he had seemingly claimed her for himself. So what harm was it if they could hear their coupling now? Astarion did plan on keeping such a delectable treat all for himself, especially since she seemed so willing to take direction. What man wouldn’t want a beautiful woman that was eager to be taught to please him, that looked at him with such smitten and dumbstruck eyes at just the smallest amount of attention?

It was good to make it clear that she was owned, that she was to be his prize after the last two hundred years of pain and being a sleepwalking stranger in his own body. Shouldn’t Astarion get something sweet and so, so perfect to play with when the mood struck him after all that he’s had to endure?

Oh, how the mood was striking him now, as he slides his fingers out of her slick, snickering at how she goes wide-eyed and whimpering at how empty the motion leaves her. Astarion muses to himself that next time, he might restrain her and tease her, leave her slack jawed with tears of frustration streaming down those pink cheeks for hours, edge her until she is begging him and promising him anything he could ever want if he just makes her cum. Tonight though, he’ll take pity on her and give her exactly what she wants, what she craves, so that she’ll come back for more and think only of him when she gets squirmy and restless in her bed roll at night.

Astarion squeezes his hand over his weeping dick, eyes going half-lidded, pleased, at how she wiggles impatiently and spreads her legs for him, beckoning him in with every glisten of the light on her sodden folds.

“Don’t worry, little love, I’m going to give you exactly what you deserve,” Astarion coos reassuringly before dipping his cock forward and into her, his hips pushing steadily and carefully into Tav as his hands grasp her thighs to keep them open and-

All practiced control and smoothness leaves his brain like air deflating from a balloon. She’s so tight, so molten hot and soaked, his shaft being smothered by her soaked walls in a way that makes every thought leave his brain other than the desperate and animalistic need to thrust into her. His teeth are gritted even as he pushes slowly past her barrier, hearing her gasp and clutch at his back in a way that still indicated more pleasure than pain, but gods alive, it is taking every ounce of his restraint not to pound her into the dirt and see exactly how much he can loosen her up if Astarion fucks her as hard as his mind is screaming at him to.

“By the hells, you- are - so - fucking- tight,” Astarion groans, peppering every word at the end of that sentence with a snap of his hips, his gaze locked onto where his frenzied cock is shoving into her cunt like he’s hypnotized. “It’s like you were made for me, so fucking perfect, it’s like you were created to take me, to be used by me. And I’ll make you feel it all as long as you keep being such a good girl for me.”

Tav reaches out with an unexpectedly soft, tender hand, nearly making Astarion flinch as her nails trace as gently along his jaw as someone trying not to startle an animal that might bolt or bite at any provocation. There’s something powerfully and unapologetically loving in the way that she looks at him, even as her hymen’s blood streaks up alongside the vein that decorates the curve of his dick. Like any other time, he’s causing her pain or at least a small measure of discomfort and she’s taking it, taking him, in stride and accepting it.

“I’ll be good for you,” she whispers, choking back a moan, and Astarion thinks to himself almost deliriously that she already has been. She’s been good for him and to him in a way that he had never thought that would be afforded to him in this lifetime. If he was a better man, maybe he’d tell her that, but he fears that he’s given her too much power over him already even without giving a voice to these murky, panicked feelings that are starting to take shape in the very center of himself.

Instead, he just snarls and puts those decades upon decades of experience to good use for once, tilting her pelvis slightly up and at an angle so he can hit that spongy spot inside of her walls that causes Tav to keen and her hands to scrabble harder at his shoulder blades like she’s trying to overwrite the scars on his back with ones from her blunt fingernails instead. Part of Astarion hopes that she does; he’d rather have a reminder of her to be etched deeply into him like an epitaph on a gravestone than anything of Cazador’s. Being marked with a souvenir of the first partner he’s truly wanted, that he wishes that he could burrow so deeply inside of that he could make a nest amongst her ribs instead of his scavenged pillows every night, sounds preferable over some shitty poem that he’s never even seen properly on his flesh.

Tav is stuttering out squeaky exclamations of his name and he can feel that already vice grip of her cunt starting to flutter, Astarion biting the inside of his own cheek to stifle a groan at the feeling. A fang draws his own blood and it tastes stale, bitter. He could keep pumping into her at this same rate and she’ll cum on her own within a few minutes, he can feel it like he can tell how many tumblers he’ll need to roll from just briefly handling a lock. But he’s never been a patient man, never been one to wait for something to happen when he can make the dominos fall himself, so he rips one of his hands from her leg and licks the thumb, making sure that she can see the showy way that his tongue coats it in his saliva before bringing it over her clit in mercilessly firm circles.

“Come on, let go for me, beautiful. You want to be good for me? Then cum, right now,” Astarion commands, hating how choppy and raspy his own words sound, how he can barely make himself heard over the slap of his sweat-heavy balls against her and his own labored breathing. He’s going to throw himself into the river near camp and hope that some kind of monster fish eats him if he loses control and cums first but gods, he is straining not to with how pussy drunk that he feels in this moment. Every jab of his cock into her feels like he is dipping it into the snuggest heat he’s ever experienced and it’s enough to make his head spin. He’s taken virgins in the past but it’s never felt like this before, like it’s some sort of celestial gift stolen from deities and not meant for mortal (or undead) men.

Thankfully, Tav goes over the edge into her pleasure just a few moments later, screaming out and trying to muffle it by burying her face into his collarbone and neck. If Astarion thought her cunt felt good before, the feeling of it clamping down now is otherworldly, milking him as thoroughly as someone wringing out a rag. Laughing almost madly at how exquisitely that her little core is squeezing him, the rogue gives her a few more shaky thrusts and unloads stream after stream of his cum into her, his testicles twitching as they empty themselves so thoroughly that he’s certain that she will be dripping with rivulets of his seed for a day or more after this.

Astarion slumps over her, his body a weight upon her as if he’s actually as corpse-like as vampires are rumored to be. He is actually reluctant to pull out just yet, to have this be over and allow her to disengage and get cleaned up. So he lets her stroke her soothing, kind touch over his back and neck, his cock softening in the safety of her satisfied and debauched cunt. Has he ever not wanted to flee immediately after sex? Has he ever felt like he had been that much in the moment during the act itself that he had to struggle not to cum too quickly? The answer unnerves him so he nuzzles into the fragrant softness of her hair like it’s a shield from his own troubled thoughts that this may have been more than a strategical move after all.

“I hope that it was still… pleasurable for you, despite my lack of experience,” Tav says falteringly, her tone rife with uncertainty. Astarion could laugh; it’s a pity that he can never tell her that this has been the best time that he’s had intimately as far as he can remember. He reasons that she probably wouldn’t believe him if he did say it but really, he can’t imagine showing his soft underbelly and making himself vulnerable this soon. She might not make herself as available next time if her ego gets too inflated, he tells himself.

Astarion places a toothy kiss under her ear, slipping his emotional mask back on (even if it felt oddly ill-fitting currently) and responds sleekly, “I wouldn’t worry about it, my love. I’m sure that after a few more times of me teaching you, you’ll probably be nearly as skilled at it as someone like me…”

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

The Devil You Don't - A.A

Pairings: Spawn!Astarion x Fem!Reader (Mephistopheles Tiefling! Raphael’s Daughter)

Warnings: 18+, Abandonment by parent, Discussion on Loss of a Parent, BG3 Spoilers (set sometime in Act 2), Mutual Pining, Fluff, Angst, SMUT (P-in-V, Fingering), Past Trauma, Not Proofread

Wordcount: 1,971

Summary: You are Raphael’s daughter, who he disowned for her good nature. You are abducted from Baldur’s Gate and receive a tadpole in your head. You have bonded with Astarion, but you are not about to let him ask your father for help. As a reminder, Tav has just revealed to Astarion that she is Raphael’s daughter.

A/N: This is part 2 of “A Devil You Know” as was originally requested in my inbox for Raphael’s daughter reader, who comes off as naïve and innocent, despite a tragic past. If you haven’t read part one, and would like some more context to the story, please feel free to do so here.

Astarion stared in absolute disbelief as you revealed this information to him. “Darling, you can’t possibly be serious” Astarion attempted to brush off your declaration to him, but the glow of your eyes and the gritting of your teeth said otherwise. For the first time, Astarion was able to sense true, deep pain surging through you. It wasn’t something that he often saw coming from you. He had just been told some of the most heinous information in his life, and yet – here he was, more worried about you, presently. If he hadn’t known any better, you looked on the verge of transforming into a dangerous creature.

“Darling, I-” Astarion began to speak, moving closer towards you subtly. “Astarion, I get it. I understand if you don’t want me here anymore, I know I’m his daughter, but you have to know that he has completely and entirely disowned me. I am fairly convinced that the only reason he is following us around is to spite me, I don’t know.” You sputtered on, with Astarion cutting you off a moment later. “Hush, my love.” He was closer to you now, allowing him to place a finger against your lips so they would purse together and mute your words. “There are no explanations needed from you on this.” He released his finger, although you yearned for the fuel of his touch once again.

“It seems to me that my making a deal with Raphael would be the equivalent of you making a deal with Cazador, and darling, I could never let you do that. I’m not usually impressed by people, but you’re stronger than I gave you credit for.” He spoke, seemingly retracting his previous statements about your naivety. “I’m so sorry, my love.” The care in his heart had grown for you substantially within the last few moments. Astarion had judged you incorrectly upon first meeting. Yes, you were a ray of sunshine for him (although without destroying him) you were also that, but in spite of all of the struggles. He admired you for that, greatly.

Astarion lifted you with ease, carrying you to his tent. Although you initially thought that he wished to bed you this evening, his mind was far from that kind of intimacy. Astarion faced away from you on the bed roll, and you traced the vampiric scars that seemingly sealed his fate, while he asked you a variety of questions about your life, and a few about the ritual too. “How did you ever end up in his hands?”

“Well, it’s quite simple, really. My mother passed away, and Raphael was there, ready to take me with him. I know now that it was more than just a mere coincidence that he was there. He wanted to collect what was ‘his’ in order to render himself more powerful.”

“How did your mother die?”

“He killed her.” Astarion’s heartstrings were tugged instantaneously from the thought of you, a young girl, witnessing her mother’s death, before being scooped up by your devil father. “He wanted power and thought that his child would give him the potential for more.”

“So, why did he leave you at that orphanage? Abandon you like that…” Astarion pondered.

“Well, it’s quite simple really. I was too good for him. Too naïve, too inexperienced, too… happy. He didn’t like that I didn’t want to be evil. That I couldn’t be persuaded to be, either.” Astarion peered back at you, enjoying greatly the way that your hands played along his back. “You know, initially I didn’t like that about you either” he joked, teasingly.

“Correct, but you didn’t abandon me at an orphanage.”

“I think I underestimated you, my dear.”

“Perhaps you did, Astarion.”

You switched sides now, cuddling into Astarion’s chest as his arm was wrapped around your form, tracing swirls into your arm with his delicate fingertips. You used your free hand to trace along his chest in various motions. “This is nice.” Astarion spoke suddenly, before clamping his hand over his mouth in embarrassment, his bloodless cheeks turning as red as they possibly could.

“It is nice, Astarion. I agree.” You spoke in a reassuring tone. “However, I think perhaps you’re deflecting from your issue at hand.”

“Oh, the whole, imminent death via a ritual by my evil vampiric master Cazador, that will kill me and my brothers and sisters and grant him godhood? Haven’t thought about it. Darling, he is very powerful.” Astarion spoke, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I believe in us, more than anything, Astarion. We have overcome great things. We can overcome terrible ones, too. Cazador included.” Your hopefulness on the subject did have some effect on him, but despite that, he still felt sadness from what he had learned. Astarion was merely a pawn to Cazador, but there was a distinct difference now that he had a tadpole lodged in his cranium. He was the missing piece to Cazador’s puzzle.

And you were the missing piece to his.

You slid around, no longer facing him, but he kept his presence known, snuggling up against your backside, his torso flush against your back as he held you closer than he had ever held another. Subtly, you pressed your bum against his pelvis, ever so slightly. “Darling, are you teasing me?”

“Always.” You muttered back, pressing the slightest bit harder. “You cheeky little-” were the only words he used to respond, before nearly instantly slipping your nightgown over your butt. “No underwear either, pet? I know it’s been a while, but you truly are desperate, aren’t you?” He teased, tutting after he spoke.

“Only for you” you answered, which seemed to make Astarion quiver slightly. Only for him? He hadn’t ever had someone that was “his” before. If he was honest, he became jealous when you would stay up late studying with Gale. You said that Gale helped you perform your spells at an advanced level, and that it was for improved accuracy. Typically, these sessions with Gale would come after some sort of catastrophic failure during battle, when you would wound one of your own or the spell would fizzle out soon after casting. He also helped you maintain your concentration spells by testing you.

But confirmation that you were his? He could barely handle it.

“For me?” He spoke, with relative disbelief.

“Of course” you responded, leaving a delicate peck on Astarion’s cheek. The subtle tingling sparked by his nerves left him in awe. You two had been intimate before, but never in such a way. Astarion felt himself becoming timid, especially as the words left his lips “please, let me make love to you.” A small part of him internally cringed, but the other was proud of himself. Astarion wasn’t one to beg, but he had never wanted anything more.

You turned from your previous position so that you could face him. You brought a hand up and through his delectable pale curls, gazing longingly into his crimson irises. “I would love nothing more” you pecked his lips again, letting them linger this time, validating his wishes with your own.

You pulled away and merely nodded, ushering him to move forward. Almost hesitantly, Astarion persistent forward. You leaned upwards in order to slide your nightgown over your shoulders and across the tent, landing on the other side of the bedroll that you shared. “You look delicious, my love.” Astarion remarked, taking in the full experience of your form. He hadn’t truly realized how beautiful you were until this moment. He was so dissociated with his previous sexual escapades with you that he didn’t take the time to admire what was really in front of him.

“Darling, my Gods…” he muttered out as he nearly brought himself to pounce on you, quickly removing his own garments, kissing you feverishly. He broke the kiss a few times to undress, but he kept his eyes on yours persistently. He was with you, and he felt safe. He was so grateful for you. And as far as he was concerned, Raphael needed to watch his back. Any attempts for contact, he would regret.

Astarion focused his attention back to you now, rather than the destruction of the very man who you shared genes with. Astarion felt himself stammering around slightly, anxious to feel you around him again. Somehow, he felt like it would be different this time. His clothes were now scattered atop yours; his hard member being revealed teasingly. “Please, Astarion.” You moaned out, begging for his entrance inside of your canal.

Although he could hardly wait to be inside of you once more, he was also eager to tease. He pressed his index finger against your heat, moving it inside of you gently. He brought his thumb to flick against your clit, and you writhed in pleasure from his actions. “Fuck-“ you groaned as he flicked your nub once more, as you became even wetter than before.

“Astarion, please get inside of me” you begged. With this, he pressured his index finger in you further, and you groaned in response, looking up at him with a subtle smirk on his face. “Your dick, please.”

Astarion removed his finger now, understanding your eagerness. He took his erect member in his hand, guiding it to your vagina. At first he merely prodded the entrance, swirling his tip around it teasingly. Then, he pressed it within, and you gasped “I forgot how big you are.”

“It seems that it’s been far too long, then, my love.” With these words, he slid further in, until his tip reached the end of your canal, osculating your cervix. To this, you mewled from the pleasure. He made a similar groan in from the pleasure, as he felt your passage tighten around him. You took a breath, before he pulled out and pressed inwards again. He brought a finger downwards to play with your clitoris, hoping to provide more pleasure.

“Gods,” you pled once more, and Astarion began pumping in and out of you further, deeper, and faster than before as he felt his own climax building. You squeezed around him tightly, and he gazed down at your bouncing bosom before lifting his head upwards as his eyes rolled to the back of his head with ease from the sensation. He stared back down at you, watching as you panted, but looked back up at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes.

“How close are you, my sweet?” He pondered, and you frantically nodded back at him “so so close.”

“Me too, my love. Cum with me.” Astarion pumped in and out for a few more rounds, before the warm fluid coated your canal, with you squeezing around him, shaking, your own climax approaching steadily.

You writhed with pleasure as Astarion played with your bud still, the feeling of his juices flowing inside of you driving you over the edge. Your lips were soon met with Astarion’s, and you felt your heart flutter as he released, speaking those three little words, everyone’s favorite: “I love you.”

But he truly did mean it. He had never made love to someone before, nor feel so much for another. With you, he did. You felt the same as he did, so you repeated them back to him, “I love you, Astarion.” His name in your voice, following those words? He could’ve sworn he was starving all of his life before he met you. Like he had not truly lived.

You laid down in each other’s arms as you were before, left with slightly more marks from one another than you had previously. He brought another kiss to your lips, and you spoke after releasing “you just can’t keep your hands off of me, can you?”

“Never, my love. Not when you’re you, darling.”

[grandmother-goblin]

Enough Time for Us - Part 1

AO3 - Masterlist

Summary: After surviving a daring rescue of several tieflings from Moonrise Towers, you realize just how short your time might be. Between the Absolute, the tadpoles, and the Shadow Curse, you don't want to waste a moment. Although Wyll had expressed his desires for an old-fashioned courtship, you're worried you won't be able to do everything you wanted with him before time runs out.

Relationships: Wyll x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Tags: Kissing, thigh-riding, dry-humping, a bit of navigating a new relationship.

“You should have seen them, Alfira!” Lakrissa said far too loudly. She clumsily set her empty goblet of wine down on the table you shared with her, Alfira, and Wyll. “You’re going to have to write a song about this. Maybe two. I don’t think all of their heroics could fit into just one.”

The light from the glowing hearth in the middle of Last Light Inn gave Lakrissa a mischievous glint to her eyes that told you everything you needed to know: she was trying to embarrass you.

Oh, you would get her back for this. You weren’t sure how, but you would.

Sure, you rescued Lakrissa (along with several other tieflings and some Ironhand gnomes) from the bowels of Moonrise Towers — but she didn’t need to sing your praises to everyone who would listen.

At first you thought she was just being sweet, if not overly appreciative. But now? Now you knew she was just messing with you.

Or she was just repeating herself because she was drunk. It really could have been either, considering that most certainly was not her first glass of wine.

Without taking her eyes off of Alfira, Lakrissa gestured to you grandly, like she was showing off a prized work of art. “That one there took down the Warden herself,” she said with faux reverence. “Knocked her right on her ass.”

You shook your head as heat rose to your face. 

Even though Lakrissa was just having fun, you wished she would knock it off. Or at the very least, turn her attention to someone who was equally responsible for her rescue. Like Karlach, who was chatting away with Jaheira over a mug of ale alongside Lae’zel and Astarion. Or Gale, who also played a crucial role in the escape plan, was sitting at the bar with Rolan, Cal, and Lia — presumably thrilled to have a fellow wizard to converse with.

Perhaps she could gush about Wyll’s part in the Moonrise jailbreak. Out of everyone, he was the most accustomed to receiving all sorts of praise as the Blade of Frontiers.

But for better or for worse, Lakrissa’s attention was locked on to you. There wasn’t much you could do about it, so you decided it was easiest just to indulge her. At least a little bit. 

Wyll’s slid closer to you on the bench you shared and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m sad that I missed that one,” he said, gently tucking you against his side. “After the way the Warden spoke to you, I wanted to get a few hits in myself.”

You hummed appreciatively, breathing in the scent of his cologne. It was something like amber and allspice, and so uniquely him that the smell alone filled you with warmth. “I still can’t believe you called her a bitch.”

Lakrissa choked down a mouthful of wine. “The Blade of Frontiers called the Warden a bitch?”

“Not to her face,” Wyll quickly corrected, holding his palm up as if to block the accusation. “Not that I wouldn’t have.”

“She still heard you,” you added.

Wyll took a drink from his mug of ale and innocently averted his gaze. “I fail to see how that’s my problem.”

A giggle bubbled in your chest, but you swallowed it down with a smile. You snuggled closer to Wyll, letting your hand rest just above his knee as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

It had been over a week since you two had officially become a couple, yet could still hardly believe it. 

Wyll Ravengard, the Blade of Frontiers, the son of a Grand Duke — all yours.

You had first kissed him at a party the tiefling refugees had thrown a few weeks ago. You would never forget the electricity that sparked between you the moment his lips brushed against yours. How your heart hammered in your chest or how his hands felt on your hips. 

How you never wanted that moment to end. 

But Wyll was a gentleman. 

He kept things chaste despite how you had wanted to throw yourself at him like a heroine on the cover of a romantic novel.

Then there was the night he had asked you to dance with him. Everything had been so proper between you two in the time between your kiss and that night that his invitation honestly caught you off guard. You weren’t even quite sure what he was wanting out of the dance — just some friendly fun or something more?

But his intentions were made clear soon enough. 

You could see the lust burning in his eye as you circled around each other. It was so intense, you could have melted under his gaze if he weren’t holding you steady. 

When he pulled you in for a kiss, that heat turned from simmering embers to an inferno. A fire that burnt through Wyll’s restraint, turning his kisses from sweet to passionate and his touch from a gentle caress to a firm embrace.

Heat built in your core when his thigh had pushed between your legs. The subtle, almost imperceptible, roll of his hips and his hands tangling in your hair was enough to drive you mad.

He wanted you. You knew, at that very moment, he wanted more than just a dance and a goodnight kiss.

Yet, he still pulled away, smothering the flame.

All he had to do was say the word, and you would have been in his bed that night. He knew that just as well as you did. But he wanted to take things slower.

He wanted to court you properly. Like heroes in those old love stories with ballroom dances and flowers and poetry. 

In ordinary circumstances, you would have let him take all the time in the world. 

Good men like Wyll were extraordinarily hard to come by. Hells, you had been dreaming of a man like Wyll for years. A man who wanted you for you — not someone who just wanted a roll in the hay. 

But your circumstances were far from ordinary.

Beneath the table, well out of view from the two tiefling women across from you, you let your hand coast further up Wyll’s thigh. Just a little bit too high to be considered decent, but not so much that you risked touching him anywhere truly inappropriate for a public setting.

If Wyll had any objections, he didn’t voice them. 

In fact, you swore you saw a smirk tug on his lips.

Wyll’s hand slipped beneath the bottom hem of your shirt, the movement smooth as silk. His thumb drew slow, tantalizing circles on your hip as he continued to chat with Lakrissa and Alfira.

Gods, it almost felt unfair. He could turn you into a pile of mush with just a sweet word and simple touch. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he was teasing you. Tempting you with all the little touches, but never going further.

You wanted him so badly, but you didn’t want to pressure him. He wanted the fairytale romance — he wanted to wait for the perfect moment and for everything to be just right.

But you couldn’t help but worry: what if that moment never came?

What if tomorrow was the day one of you fell to the Shadow Curse? Or to the Absolute? What if the Artefact’s protection wore out or if Vlaakith’s warriors found you?

What if you and Wyll never had that chance with the each other?

Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted to be more intimate with him. Gods, you dreamed of it. There were nights when you and Wyll would share a bedroll, sleeping in one another’s arms and fully clothed, and you ached for something more.

You just weren’t sure how to broach the topic with him. Not since he expressed his own desires regarding your relationship. A fairytale romance, like those told by the bards.

You wished he had been a little more specific about what his desires entailed, if you were being completely honest. 

“Have we already finished another bottle?” Alfira’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as she picked up the empty bottle of wine from your side of the table. “Should we get another, or call it night?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lakrissa stood up and placed both hands on the table as she peered over Wyll’s horns. “Hey Mirkon,” she called toward the bar in the back of the room. “I’ll give you five silver to bring us another bottle of red.”

The small tiefling boy popped his head up over the lip of the countertop. “Just gave out the last bottle of red — gotta go to the cellar to get more. We got whiskey though!”

Lakrissa’s eyes lit up at the mention of whiskey. “Bring the bottle of whiskey then.”

“The whole bottle?” Mirkon squeaked.

“Lakrissa,” Alfira warned. “Remember what happened last time you mixed whiskey and wine.”

“I remember I had fun,” she replied and gestured for Mirkon to bring the bottle over. “Don’t need to remember much else.”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t help but smile. Lakrissa might be in for a nasty hangover the next morning, but if anyone deserved a couple of drinks, she did. Especially after everything they went through getting out of Moonrise. 

“I’m going to bring another crate up before the whole place decides to switch to hard liquor,” you said, giving Wyll’s leg an affectionate squeeze before you got to your feet.

The crates were too large for the kids to carry safely, but you could manage. Besides, it made for a good opportunity to get a breath of fresh air. The longer you sat cuddled up next to Wyll, the greater the temptation to get even closer to him was. Considering “closer” probably meant fighting the temptation to crawl into his lap and straddle him, it was probably for the best to detangle yourself before that happened. 

If you didn’t control yourself, you knew you’d be regretting it later when it came time to sleep. You’d be faced with the impossible decision of sleeping in Wyll’s arms or getting some alone time in your tent to deal with your self-inflicted sexual frustration.

Yep, a bit of space was just what you needed.

Before you could get a step away from the table, Wyll said, “I’ll come with you.”

Well, so much for that idea.

Wyll swung his legs around the side of the bench and stood beside you, slipping his arm around you once again. “Two pairs of hands are better than one, and besides — ” he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear, and whispered “ — it looks like Alfira wants a little one-on-one time with Lakrissa.”

“What was that, Mr. Blade of Frontiers?” Lakrissa asked cheekily, cupping her hand to her ear for emphasis. “You best share with the group.”

Wyll laughed and replied, “The only thing I’m sharing is another drink once we get back. I’ll look for another bottle of Esmalter Red while I’m down there.”

Lakrissa tapped her chin in mock consideration as she sat back in her seat. “I’ll accept that as a compromise, I suppose.”

“We’ll be back in a minute,” you said and started toward the front door.

As the chatter and the music faded behind you, Wyll’s hand moved from your waist to your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. When you glanced up at him, he was already smiling down at you with so much love in his gaze that made your heart pick up speed.

Gods, you loved him so much. Even if the romantic aspect of your relationship was relatively new, you knew you wanted to be at Wyll’s side for as long as he would have you. And you hadn’t felt that way about anyone else before.

There was something so special, so incredible, about him that you could hardly put it into words. In so many ways, Wyll was everything you had ever wanted — you wanted to experience the world with him but you didn’t know if that same world would give you time.

Wyll brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your knuckles. “This hand,” he said with a teasing grin, “was getting a bit adventurous under the table there.”

Pushing aside your thoughts, you blinked up at him innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” He pressed another kiss to your hand as you reached the top of the stairs at the side of the building. Without letting go of your hand, he had smoothly positioned you to the side with the railing. “Must have just been my imagination. It has been a little overactive in that regard, as of late.”

“Oh? What sorts of things have you been imagining, Wyll?” you replied knowing full well that he would be far too much of a gentleman to answer if his thoughts aligned with your own.

“You’ll find out,” he said as he helped you down the last step (although you didn’t need the help, the gesture was appreciated). “Just give it time.”

Time.

The one thing that seemed to be running out.

In the space beneath the building, the sounds of water lapping gently against docks echoed off the stone walls. Just a few hours ago, this was the location of a joyous reunion for many — people seeing loved ones they had thought lost over something completely out of their control. If not for the feeling of Wyll’s hand in yours, the whole place felt cold and yawningly empty.

Looking out over the river, you could see that thin border of light that separated you, and the people you cared about, from the Shadow Curse. It was like a singular pillar that held up an entire roof. Without it, everything would come crashing down — no matter how many other support beams were in place.

It all felt so fragile. All it would take is one thing going wrong and… you’d all be lost to the darkness.

Gods, any moment really could be the last, couldn’t it? 

Your hand tightened around Wyll’s, as if you could squeeze out a little more hypothetical time with him. That’s all you wanted. Just some time for the two of you to be together without the looming fear of death.

Was that so much to ask?

“Are you feeling alright?” Wyll asked as he opened the door leading down into the cellar and gestured for you to go ahead of him. “You’ve got a bit of a far off look to you.”

There really wasn’t any point in lying to him or in pretending things were fine. Wyll was much  better at reading you than most people, which was both a blessing and a curse. He always seemed to know just what you needed, but it also meant you could hardly keep anything from him. While he would never pressure you to talk if you didn’t want to, you didn’t like to leave him in the dark.

You took a few steps down the stairs, staring at the way your hand slid along the railing rather than look at the man above you. You could see his shadow against the wall beside you, the subtle tilt of his head and the curl of his horns. An ominous silhouette to most, but a source of comfort to you. 

“I’ve just been thinking a bit about what you said a few nights ago,” you answered, your heart beating in your throat as you slowly continued your descent. “About our relationship, and how you want things to go.”

Behind you, you heard the door gently close against the frame followed by the click of a lock. The stairs creaked under his boots as he took the wooden stairs two steps at a time until he was at your side once more. “This sounds serious.”

You laughed, hoping to ease some of the tension. “It’s nothing serious,” you reassured him. “But it’s still something I wanted to bring up with you.”

“Of course.” There was a hint of nervousness to his voice, but he tried to mask it behind his charming, prince-like smile that could make most people swoon. “I’m always happy to talk.”

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you shuffled around to face him. The glow from a dim fireplace, one that hadn’t been tended to for a while now, glinted off of Wyll’s scarlet red eye as he gazed at you with a mixture of affection and concern.

Though the cellar was warm, you wrapped your arms around yourself as if there was a chill in the air, trying to muster up some courage. 

Gods, did you even have to bring this up? You didn’t, right? But he was looking at you expectantly and the longer you waited, the worse your anxiety got and —

“I don’t want to wait,” you blurted out before you could talk yourself out of it.

Wyll’s brow drew together. “Wait for what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, looking past him rather than directly into his eye. “To be close to you,” you said, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. “To be intimate. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow and I — I want to share that experience with you.”

There. It was out in the open and there was no taking it back. The worst that could happen was that he would turn you down again, right?

For a moment, there was nothing but stale cellar air and the sounds of the crackling fireplace between you two. You could hear footsteps from the taproom overhead counting out the beats of silence.

You swallowed. Gods, why did you have to say anything at all? He was giving you everything you wanted, yet you still wanted more?

Then a soft smile tugged at the corner of Wyll’s lip and a sense of relief coursed through you. The back of his fingers brushed against your cheek in a featherlight touch before he tucked his thumb beneath your chin. He tilted your face up, making it impossible for you to look anywhere but at his gorgeous, mismatched, eyes.

“I want to share that experience with you too,” he said, resting one hand on your hip as he took a single step closer. “Though, I’m of the mind that we will have plenty of time, and plenty of chances, to have that experience.”

Disappointment landed light a heavy weight in your gut, and you averted your gaze. 

Well, it was worth a try.

It wasn’t like you could force Wyll to change his stance on such a thing. And it would have been wrong of you to do anything more than simply express your desires.

Still, it didn’t make the disappointment any easier.

“I hope you’re right,” you conceded with a hopeful long convincing smile, not wanting to put any pressure on him.

Wyll sighed and touched his forehead to yours. His horns were cool and hard against your skin and you closed your eyes, just breathing in his scent. 

“I still believe in the old tales of love,” he said as his hand moved to your lower back. “And I want to give you the fairytale because that’s what you deserve. But that doesn’t mean we can’t make it our own.”

You blinked and pulled back just far enough to look Wyll in the eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

A rakish grin spread across his face, sending butterflies to your stomach in a flurry. “I’m saying that if you want to be more intimate” — his hand slipped beneath your shirt, his palm warm against the small of your back — “then we can be more intimate.”

Your heart leapt in your chest as a mixture of surprise and giddiness surged through you. Out of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t that. 

At least, you didn’t expect him to agree so readily.

Swallowing your excitement, you laced your fingers with his. You didn’t want to pressure him, and you didn’t think you were, but you still wanted to check…. 

“You’re sure?” you asked and pressed your lips to the back of his hand. “I know you have reasons for wanting to wait, and I don’t want you to change your mind just because — ”

A little huff of laughter passed Wyll’s lips. “I’m sure,” he confirmed. “This is our relationship — we make these sorts of decisions together. I’d much rather you talk to me about things like this rather than just quietly go along with what I said.”

He brought his palm to your cheek, carefully cupping your face as if you were something precious. “Besides,” he added, “I’ll admit that part of me was hoping you’d ask me to change my mind.”

Before you could even think of how to respond, Wyll’s lips brushed over yours in a sweet, silky caress. Light and teasing, if not a little playful at first. Taking his sweet time tasting you. The hand on your cheek slipped behind your head, tangling in your hair as he slowly deepened the kiss.

You couldn’t help the soft moan in your throat as he pulled you flush against him. He coaxed your lips apart with his tongue, sending a thrill of warmth through you with each delicate stroke. Looping your arms around his neck, you held yourself steady as you melted into his touch.

Gods, when he kissed you like this, how could you not want more? How could you be expected to keep your desires in check when his lips were as sinful as they were saccharine?

Wyll guided you backward until your back pressed against the cool stone wall of the stairwell, not once breaking his lips away from yours. He cupped your face, tilting your head back as he kissed you as if he could breathe you in. 

A muscular thigh nudged between your legs, putting delicious pressure where you had long desired it. Heat rose to your face as you rolled your hips, slowly and subtly rocking against him.

Moving his hands to your hips, he pressed himself against you as he guided your movements on his leg to match his. The rhythm alone was enough to make your core clench with need. His parted lips dragged down the side of your neck as he let you grind against him. You let out a small, pleasured, gasp when he gently sucked and nipped at your skin.

Gods, he had barely begun to touch you and you were already trembling. Your body craved him like no other, and you had contented yourself with fantasies for so long. For him to actually be touching you like this? To be pulling closer instead of pulling back? 

It was indescribable.

You brought your lips to his neck, stifling a moan as you kissed the prominent ridges on his throat. His fingers dug into your hips a groan rumbled in his chest. “Those are sensitive,” he said and nibbled at your earlobe. 

You sighed as you closed your eyes. “Sensitive how?” you asked distractedly. 

Wyll raised his hips, pressing himself against you and fully pinning you to the wall. The hard outline of him prodded your lower stomach. “That kind of sensitive.”

Your cheeks burned as his mouth hungrily returned to yours. No one had ever kissed you the way Wyll did. It was reckless and restrained, passionate and patient. And you wanted nothing more than for that patience and restraint to run out.

At least, just for a little bit.

Tension coiled inside of you as you grinded against him, winding tighter and tighter as he rocked into you. You were so close. Gods, you hadn’t even taken your clothes off and you were going to come.

“Wyll,” you whined against his lips, not knowing quite what you wanted. Did you want him to stop you? Or did you want —

“Come for me,” Wyll rasped, his voice unlike you had ever heard it before. His grasping fingers slid over the curve of your breast as he took your mouth in another consuming kiss. 

Your nails dug into his shirt as your movements grew rougher and more erratic. Your breath came in panting gasps as pressure built deep in your core.

Every muscle in your body tightened. Your mouth fell open as you found your release. Your hips moved of their own accord but Wyll’s hands kept you steady as pleasure wracked your body.

“That’s it,” he soothed as you rode out your climax, his voice husky in a way that made your skin prickle. 

He removed his leg from between your thighs just as you began to catch your breath. With his hands still on your hips, he kissed the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, his breathing almost as heavy as your own.

“Tomorrow night,” Wyll said softly as pulled away. His eyes locked onto yours, his good eye dark with barely restrained lust. His hands traced your curves and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.“Give me until tomorrow night, my love,” he said resolutely. “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

With that tiny bit of distance between you, you could see a prominent, hard ridge in his trousers. You must have been staring, because Wyll chuckled and cleared his throat, quickly adjusting himself to hide his erection. Well, as much as he could. 

You swallowed and licked your lips. “Do you — ”

He smiled at you broadly as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “By the time we pack up these crates, I’ll be all settled down.”

Oh, right. The wine. Lakrissa and Alfira were waiting for them.

But still….

You hooked two fingers around his belt loop and stepped closer. “But what if I want to?”

Wyll cupped your face in his hands and pressed his mouth to yours, chaste and sweet. “Then you’ll have to wait until tomorrow night.”

---

Author's Note: This was meant to be like a 2k word oneshot and it turned into a whole thing. I'm still relatively new to writing in second person POV, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

[messiahzzz]

Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

[tragedybunny]

Caught Out

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina get caught out in a storm and come up with a plan to get warm again.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ Non-explicit sex, a hint of suicidal ideation, otherwise just mostly fluff

༺Word Count༻ 2554

༺A/N༻

This a gift for my dear friend @icybluepenguin as part of our server exchange. Sorry I had to keep secrets for so long on this. 😅 I hope you love it.

Thank to @leomonae for betaing and assuring me it worked, and for the great addition at the end.

Read on AO3

Darkness was coming earlier with each day; while on the one hand that meant more time Astarion was able to travel freely, it also meant that the nights were becoming colder and the weather less pleasant. Serafina had watched the sun sink down past the horizon through a gathering tide of dark clouds that held the promise of a storm.

She and Astarion had left Baldur’s Gate some weeks back; their first lead on a way for Astarion to walk in the sun had proved fruitless, and now they were on their way to Waterdeep to consult with Gale on some research he had done.

Though at the moment, Sera wished they could just take shelter for the night. Astarion would likely want to press on: not only was he eager to find a way back into the light, he was eager to explore the world he’d been kept from for two hundred years. His impatience in that regard was understandable and forgivable, and so she would relent to continuing on, hoping the rain wouldn’t catch them.

As if sensing her thoughts - and she wasn’t sure that was out of the realm of possibility, with his new talents that had emerged once the tadpole was gone and he started being fed properly - Astarion emerged from their tent, immaculately dressed and perfectly coiffed. He flashed her a brilliant smile, fangs on full display; reveling in himself, with nothing to hide from her any longer.

“Good evening, my love.” He came over to wrap his arms around her and face the direction she was keeping watch, as she smothered the last of the cookfire. A sudden wind shook the leaves of the surrounding trees, drawing her gaze back to gathering clouds she had been observing earlier.

“Maybe not so good judging by those clouds.” Leaning her head back, Sera’s lips softly brushed the edge of his jaw, innocent and sensual at once. “Perhaps we should just stay at camp tonight?”

“Don’t tell me the hero of Baldur’s Gate is scared of a little rain!” Astarion’s teasing was followed by a playful nip to the point of her ear.

Swallowing down her growing misgivings about continuing their journey with the threatening skies, she turned in his arms and playfully tugged at one of his curls. “Oh, I'm not, but we'll see how you feel as soon as these get wet.”

“Cheeky.” Cool lips brushed over hers. “Let’s just see who surrenders to a little inconvenience first.”

With the camp packed, the two of them set out for the night along the road north to Waterdeep, emerging from the edge of the trees that marked the boundary of the Misty Forest. Astarion had been hesitant to fully enter the woods initially, knowing that the elves within saw it as their sovereign kingdom and might not feel kindly towards a half-blood and a vampire intruding. Sera had agreed with that assessment; what she hadn’t agreed with was not taking a room at the well-known traveler’s refuge, the Way Inn.

But Astarion had argued it was too crowded; too many would-be heroes. In the end, she couldn’t blame him for being cautious about being discovered; not after they’d accidentally discovered another vampiric ability of his near the start of their journey when he’d walked right up a wall in front of the inn’s patrons they were trying to defend. Luckily they had been playing heroes that night, and so the owners of the inn had been willing to overlook the obvious vampire who’d spent the following day hidden away in one of their rooms.

A distant peal of thunder broke the silence of the night; Sera glanced back towards where the stars were disappearing into a looming blackness. “If this storm catches up to us, we are staying in a real building tonight – one with a proper bath.”

It had been weeks on the road, bathing in rivers and ponds a good portion of the time; with the temperatures falling, a hot bath was most definitely in order. Maybe she should apologize to Astarion for teasing him when he’d previously complained about his creature comforts, Sera thought.

“Of course we can’t have a delicate lady such as yourself exposed to such elements,” Astarion said, then laughed merrily, darting just out of reach of her attempted playful smack to his shoulder.

“Impero te.” A clap of thunder came, right beside Astarion; he froze in his impish dance, looking worriedly up towards the clouds despite having heard her vocalize the spell. A simple Prestidigitation cantrip; now it was Sera’s turn to laugh. “I thought you were unworried about the elements.”

“That was cheating, madam,” Astarion groused.

The banter and chatting continued as they walked, before finally they fell into a companionable silence. While Sera certainly didn’t mind Astarion’s usual more talkative moods, his jokes and gossip about their friends gleaned from letters, the silence was lovely. The silence meant he was comfortable: not feeling driven to be entertaining and witty, every second of his existence, in order to earn his place. Not feeling like he had to earn his place with her.

Slowly, the light of the stars vanished, and then the moon as well, taking the ambient color of the world with them, until she and Astarion were left to rely upon their inherent darkvision as they continued along.

Another boom of genuine thunder sounded, closer than the first; the wind answered it with a fierce gust.

“I believe your storm ha-” Astarion cut himself off at the first drops of rain pattering down, looking up at the sky. “- has found us.”

Sera shivered in her armor, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head and trying not to be cross with her love over his earlier stubbornness, but finding herself longing for the warm bath she could be enjoying right now instead of standing in the frigid rain. “Shall we pick up the pace? Bowshot shouldn’t be far.”

Lightning danced across the sky, briefly returning color to their surroundings. Astarion stared at the falling water with disdain, but seemed determined not to admit defeat by agreeing with her outright. “If that is what my beloved wishes, we’ll make haste to town.”

With a gallant bow, he set off at a brisk jog; a pace designed for her to keep up with. He was faster now too, these days; it wouldn’t sustain over long distances, but in a short trek, he was near-impossible to catch.

Not to be found wanting, Sera hurried to follow, slipping the strap of her staff over her shoulder to keep it out of the way.

The patter of rain soon became a downpour, the water soaking into the padded cloth of her armor and weighing her down. Astarion had slowed, his own leather armor sodden as well. The relentless wind made her blood feel like ice water in her veins. Shaking, she pulled her now useless cloak tighter around herself. 

Astarion further slowed his pace to let Sera catch up, then put an arm around her.

“I'm sorry, my love; I should have listened. You're freezing.” His voice sounded so genuinely pained that Sera couldn't help but let go of any lingering irritation.

“Let's just find some place to stop.” Gods above, how far could Bowshot be?

“Perhaps that will suffice?” Astarion pointed to what looked like a rather worn down building some distance off the road.

It would at least be dry. But… 

“There could be other things taking shelter there,” Sera mused, though the steady flood from the sky was making her care less and less about that with every passing moment.

“What's the worst there could be? Goblins? Kobolds?”

“You know, I think you secretly like eating kobolds,” Sera teased; Astarion scoffed at the remark. “But you're right, it has to be better than this.”

The two of them scurried from the road and down along the overgrown, muddy track that looked to have once served as a cart path.

The structure loomed before them, two stories of worn wood, grime-covered windows, and a door barely clinging to its hinges. It couldn’t be any worse than camping in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, though, Sera thought, hanging back to keep an eye on the road behind them while Astarion, as the more silent of the two of them, entered first to scout the place.

It wasn’t long before he reappeared, a pale face and faintly glowing red eyes looming out of the darkness; it would have been frightening, if Sera didn’t know it so well.

“It’s not a well-kept inn, but there are no kobolds.”

“That will do.” Sera followed up into the house as Astarion led the way, down an entry hall into a parlor with a large hearth and the broken remains of furniture scattered around. Various doors led to the rest of the house, and a stairway vanished up into darkness.

At least the roof above this area seemed to be holding fast against the continued torrent of rain, even as the storm banged and boomed in even fiercer fashion.

“Nothing for it but to sit it out, I suppose,” Sera said, after taking in their surroundings.

“We need to get you dry first,” Astarion said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and cupping her cheek. “You’re cold as death. And I should know.”

Astarion set to work without waiting for a reply, removing his armor and breaking apart a few of the chairs; in the meanwhile, Sera stripped off her cloak and padded armor before tugging off her boots as well, leaving both her and Astarion similarly garbed in loose shirts and breeches. From inside their Bag of Holding, she pulled out a couple of bedrolls and extra blankets - they might as well make themselves comfortable.

“Ignis,” Astarion spoke; a fire blazed to life in the hearth, adding at least some warmth to their bleak shelter.

When he turned back toward her, Sera had the bedrolls spread out on the floor and had already made herself comfortable; she patted the spot next to herself invitingly. The grin Astarion gave her in return was both mischievous and lascivious.

He wasted no time in settling next to her, pulling her into his arms. “Why, my sweet Serafina, this won’t do at all.  Your clothes are still far too damp; best to remove them.”

“How will I keep warm at all without them?” Sera looked up at him through her lashes, eyes wide in a pantomime of feigned naivety.

“I’m sure I can think of a way to get you warm.” Astarion’s hands gripped her shirt, beginning to tug on it as though to pull it over her head. Feeling a sudden flush, she yielded, growing passion starting to push away lingering trepidation about the storm. 

Brilliant lightning brightened the room, flashing just as thunder rattled the house’s rickety bones, followed by a strange thump from up the stairs.

They both froze.

“I thought you cleared the house?” Sera asked, lowering her voice to a whisper.

“I did!” Astarion shot back, defensively, before recovering his composure. “Perhaps it’s a ghost. Do you need me to protect you from the other creatures of the night?”

His hands went back to attempting to remove her shirt.

“We fought a ghost and won,” Sera muttered as one of his icy hands suddenly palmed her breast, leaving her sighing and leaning into his touch. A metallic sort of whine came from upstairs; it had to just be the house having been shaken by the storm, the wind still battering it, but they seemed safe enough for the moment. Why not indulge in a bit of fun?

“Oh no, a ghost. Maybe we should hide under all these blankets.”

“Excellent idea, love. I can keep you nice and safe under there.” With a quick tug, Astarion pulled her shirt off and pushed her down to the bedroll. “Oh, but these breeches are…”

Astarion trailed off, clearly unable to decide whether to keep going with the ghost pretence or the “too wet” notion. “Well, either way, they just have to go.”

Soon Sera was left naked and shivering, eager for both the blankets and Astarion, even if his body temperature wouldn’t help with warming her up. But there were other ways he could help her with that, as he’d promised. 

“No fair, you’re still dressed. We should be equally vulnerable to the ghosts,” Sera teased, sliding her foot up his leg to run along the obvious bulge at his groin.

“Of course, I’ll make myself a similarly tempting target to lure the ghosts away from you.”

Astarion quickly dispensed with his own clothes until he was left bare, shining like marble in the soft glow of the fire; a truly ethereal beauty. Sometimes, Sera thought that if he accidentally killed her during one of his feedings, she’d be happy to die that way: in his arms, lost in passion, offering him the sustenance to sustain his life.

There was another thud somewhere in the house, quickly blotted out by yet more thunder as the storm’s fury began to build to a crescendo.

“Oh no, protect me, my brave love!”

Sera held her arms out, lost in the building warmth in her core, unable to muster any care for the fact that this particular thud seemed closer. Gathering the blankets, Astarion lowered himself down to her, lips pressed against hers, covering them both. The chill of the rain-soaked walk was instantly forgotten. He was right: he was very good at getting her warm - with teeth and tongue and hands and cock stiff with wanting her.

The blankets surrounding them trapped the heat of their coupling while the fire burned itself down. A sheen of sweat covered them, by the time Astarion collapsed into her arms, face nuzzling into her neck.

Sera hummed, running her fingers up and down the lean muscles of his body, less sharply defined now that he was no longer being starved. “Is it my turn to warm you up, love?”

“You're too good to me,” Astarion breathed, just before his fangs sank into her neck.

The storm slowed as he fed, leaving behind only the sound of a gentle patter of rain and the crackle of dying embers.

Safe, warm, loved - there was nothing more Sera could want. Except for the goal they sought: Astarion returned to the sun. And they were well on their way to that one.

Once Astarion finished feeding and had licked her wounds clean, Sera sat up. Waterdeep was still a long ways to go.

“The rain’s stopped. Our armor is still soaked, but we could get on the road without -”

Sera was cut off by Astarion wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, kissing along her shoulder. “A little longer, Sera, love; no need to pay for my impatience twice in a night.”

Sera wavered, then gave in, her eyes closing as she sighed contentedly. As they shut, for a moment she almost thought she’d glimpsed a silvery figure from the corner of her vision.

A trick of the shadows and the ghost talk from earlier, surely, Sera thought, dismissing the imagined apparition as she leaned back against Astarion. Besides. She had a vampire.

Tag list: @writingmysanity @snowfolly @sunfire-ancunin @vixstarria

@just-a-refrigerator @ladyofcrowsandcoffee @tallymonster @azu21

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate @spacebarbarianweird @cilil @bg3obsessedsideblog

@talented-bitch @claryvoyantfray

[bitethedevil]

Living with The Devil You Know (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 7

Chapter: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen

Read this fic on AO3 (Link)

Fic Summary: Tav broke their agreement by handing the Crown of Karsus to Mystra instead of Raphael. Not only that, but she also robbed his house and killed his incubus. Raphael is patient and he is determined to get his revenge.

…Tav isn't too bothered. She will figure something out eventually. Until then she just has to find a way to live peacefully with a devil.

Chapter Summary: Tav learns some surprising things about Raphael's past and drunkenly confesses her thoughts and feelings to him. Meanwhile, her friends pay her house a visit to find the Orphic Hammer.

AN: Raphael's little lovestory is taken directly from my one chapter fic called "Portrait of a Cambion" which goes into depth with my slightly depressing headcanon about his past lovelife. It's not necessary to read to understand anything going on it this fic, but you might find some interesting similarities between his former love interest in that fic and our dear Tav (In my head that fic is like a prelude to his obsession in this one)

Tav had been trapped in her own mind since Raphael had left and it was not a nice place to be. She had spent the majority of her life in her own company before the whole tadpole business, and still, she had never felt quite so alone as she did now.

She spent the day sitting in bed, thinking. Thinking about her situation, the last couple of days, Raphael’s reaction earlier in the day, the things Korrilla had said, the crushing thought of the possibility that she might not be able to escape, and the even more crushing thought that a small part of her did not really want to escape…

There were a lot of thoughts and a lot of anxiety to catch up on now that she finally had a moment of solitude to take all of it in. It was suffocating her. It came as a blessing when Raphael returned home and granted her a distraction from it.

She found him in his human form, sitting on a sofa with a stack of papers in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. As soon as he saw her enter, he snapped the papers out of existence and looked up at her with a smile.

“There you are,” he purred and gestured to the spot beside him. “Please, sit with me.”

She sat down. He poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her.

“Did you enjoy your little moment of peace?” he asked.

She sipped the wine with an empty stare, still caught up in her thoughts until she realized he had asked her a question.

“Yes, sure,” she answered quietly. “It was nice...”

Raphael gave her a smile that told her he knew she was lying, but he decided not to push it.

“It was not my intention to scare you so much earlier,” he said instead.

Tav blinked and then glared at him.

“I thought you once said that you never lie,” Tav challenged.

Raphael chuckled at that.

“There is that brave woman I know again,” he said and sipped his wine. “I am not lying. Yes, I did, of course, intend to remind you that there are rules in this house. I would be lying if I said that I did not enjoy seeing you rattled and that I did not use your fear to my advantage. However, I did not expect it to have the effect that it had. Korrilla told me you were almost inconsolable…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tav answered coldly.

“Hm,” Raphael hummed. “Suit yourself.”

His arm was resting over the backrest of the sofa, and he brushed his fingers gently through the ends of her hair. She swept her hair over her shoulder and away from him. His eyes narrowed slightly at the gesture.

“How was your day?” Tav asked to distract him from it.

“Uneventful,” he said and took a sip of his wine. “Aside from the obvious, that is.”

They small-talked for a while. Each time Tav had finished her glass of wine, Raphael would pour her a new one. Tav knew that he was trying to get her guard down, but she found that she did not care.

It was nice to just drink and forget about all the things that had haunted her throughout the day, and she found that it also made it easier for her to talk more freely with him. She noticed by the time she was well tipsy that Raphael barely seemed changed at all.

“Can you even get drunk?” Tav asked with curiosity.

“I can,” Raphael answered. “Though it would take quite a lot of wine to achieve the level you are currently at.”

He gave her a teasing smile.

“How much?” Tav asked, squinting at him with a smile.

“I could go through a quarter of my wine cellar before you would see me starting to slur and stumble about,” he answered.

“That sounds like a challenge,” Tav said.

“Planning to get me drunk, are you?” Raphael said with a laugh. “I’m afraid that I have outgrown that sort of thing. One does such foolish things when under the influence. You of all people should know that. It’s how you ended up here.”

“To be fair, I can’t imagine it’s that common of a thing to wake up in chains and half-naked in a devil’s house after a night out,” Tav said and took another sip of her wine.

“I think you’d be surprised…” Raphael purred with a suggestive smile, before turning the conversation towards another topic. “I am curious about something, if you would indulge me…What was it that drew you to going home with Cassius back then?”

Tav sighed quietly. She might have been tipsy, but she still noticed how odd he seemed to still be about her trying to protect Cassius from his punishment. She also knew that if she pointed out her suspicions about him being jealous, it would only achieve pissing him off.

“Honestly?” Tav said. “I was drunk and missed having some company, I suppose. It really wasn’t much deeper than that.”

“Hm,” he hummed and looked at her. “Is that something you have done a lot of? Blindly following strangers home to sleep with them?”

“Occasionally,” Tav answered with a shrug. “Just to…you know, sate urges and all that.”

Raphael’s smile widened.

“There has been no regular partners or sweethearts, that could help you sate those urges?” he asked.

“No,” she answered. “I never really dabbled in all of that…”

“Oh?” Raphael said. He seemed surprised by her answer. “Do you expect me to believe that someone whose favorite book is one of the most popular love stories of this age, has never been in love?”

“Not really. Perhaps when I was younger,” she answered with a shrug and swirled the wine around in her glass. “I’ve preferred my own company for the most of my life.”

Until now, she almost said, but stopped herself. Raphael did not need to know that his attempt of isolating her was working wonders. She wanted to change the topic away from her.

“What about you?” she asked. It almost sounded like a joke rather than a serious question because she felt like she already knew the answer. “Have you ever loved someone?”

Raphael raised an eyebrow at the question.

“Once. Many years ago,” Raphael answered coldly, though there was an edge of bitterness hidden in his words. “A mistake I certainly learned from…”

Tav could not hide the look of surprise on her face. He looked like he was serious.

“I thought devils didn’t—"

“They don’t,” Raphael interrupted and smiled. “Not in any way you would understand at least. Our definition of love is quite different from what you mortals would find ideal or even healthy.”

Tav was still a bit dumbfounded. She was just looking at him with a puzzled expression, holding her empty wine glass.

“Does that surprise you?” Raphael asked and gently took the empty glass from her to pour her more wine.

Tav blinked slightly and returned to reality.

“It does…” she mumbled. “Can I…ask you about it or is it a sore subject?”

“Oh please, don’t take me for some soft-hearted mortal, dear,” Raphael said with slight offense, though he was still smiling. “Ask your questions.”

He handed her back the now full wineglass. She looked down at its contents while she was thinking.

“Was he or she a devil too?”

“No,” Raphael answered, surprising her even more. “She was a mortal woman. A human…like yourself.”

The tone of the ‘like yourself’ comment gave her butterflies in her stomach, and she was quick to snuff out the feeling as soon as she felt it.

“Who was she?” Tav asked.

“She was a potential client in the beginning. A painter that had managed to anger the mercenary government of the city she resided in. She achieved this by plastering posters around the city that critiqued the leadership. Needless to say, they wanted her dead and like the savior I am, I of course offered to lend her a hand with getting safely out of the city.”

“So, she gave you her soul, right?” Tav asked.

Raphael made a short laughing sound.

“She all but spat in my face, the stubborn wench. She told me that she would take her chances. To my great annoyance, she did survive and fled to her father’s home far away from the city. However, that did not deter me from still trying to present a deal to her. She might have fled, but the city’s mercenaries would not forget her so easily.”

“Did you succeed?” Tav asked. “Did she give in eventually?”

“She did not, though she grew to like me. She taught me how to paint, as a compensation for the time I wasted on her. I suppose, I grew to admire her during those sessions…She fascinated me and my time with her became a welcome refugee from my endless duties to my father at the time…She really was a remarkable painter as well. She made some of the paintings you see on my walls.”

He just kept surprising her.

“You kept some of her paintings?” Tav asked.

“I did,” Raphael answered.

“I don’t mean to be rude but…I would never have thought of you as sentimental like that,” Tav said quietly.

“I don’t keep them out of sentimentality,” he was quick to say. “I keep them as a reminder of what happens when one gets distracted with pointless pursuits such as matters of the heart.”

“Well…” Tav said. “What happened?”

“As I said, I got distracted and my dear father noticed. I still lived in Cania, you see. The privilege of having lovers or consorts is only reserved for Archdevils. My father saw it as me getting distracted from my purpose of gaining more souls for him, and as me overreaching my station. He put an end to it.”

Tav looked at him. He seemed so cold and nonchalant while telling her this, but she felt that she could see a glimmer of something behind those brown eyes of his.

“He killed her?” Tav asked quietly.

Raphael was quiet for a moment too long. He was staring emptily at the floor as if he was reliving it.

“Not quite,” he said. “He made a warlock of his reveal her whereabouts to the mercenaries hunting her. I found the corpses of her and her father the next time I visited…I burned the house down with them in it…”

“I’m sorry,” Tav said quietly before even thinking.

He looked up at her and narrowed his eyes.

“Feeling sorry for people who have knowingly made the mistakes that landed them in their despair is a useless pursuit, little mouse,” he said darkly. “I never should have let myself feel what I did or at the very least I should have known the consequences and taken the necessary precautions to keep her safe…I was too young and too naïve…”

Raphael sighed and they were both quiet for a moment. Tav was not sure what to say. She was oddly touched by his story.  

Raphael looked at her, seemingly taking in her features with an expression that was hard to read. He reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and this time she did not move away from his touch.

She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind and closed it. The alcohol made her want to talk about subjects that she knew sober-her would regret. Raphael noticed her little gesture and smiled at her.

“What is it, dear?”

“Nothing,” she said and shook her head. “I’m drunk.”

“You are,” Raphael purred. “The things you and I have done, and you are still too shy to speak freely with me.”

Tav opened her mouth again and then closed it again before she decided on saying what she wanted to.

“It’s just…” Tav said and sighed. “You are so infuriatingly confusing.”

Raphael chuckled.

“Am I?” he asked. “How so?”

Then the floodgates opened and Tav started rambling.

“You tell me that the whole reason for all of this is to eventually kill all of my friends and then me. Then, you have very angry revenge sex with me. Then you almost kill me, but you save me, and you are really weirdly nice about my scars. Then, we have sex again, but this time it’s not angry, it’s oddly tender and sweet…”

Raphael’s smile was widening the more she started rambling.

“And you mess with my head by gifting me my favorite book and you don’t even mention it, even though it was a really sweet gesture. Then today you don’t brutally torture me for doing something I’m not supposed to, but you were however, once again, being weird about the fact that I did not want another person to get brutally tortured. And now you tell me this incredibly devastating story about how you lost someone you loved…”

Tav sighed in frustration as she was finishing her drunken rant.

“I mean what the fuck?” she mumbled to herself.

Raphael opened his mouth to say something, but Tav decided that she was indeed not finished rambling.

“No and you know what? It makes me feel so stupid and confused because I cannot figure out what is going on. I should be hating you but instead I found myself missing you today and you-…you are fucking doing it on purpose!” Tav said with a bit of anger and pointed at his smug face accusingly. “I know you are! You are trying to manipulate me, and I’m aware that you are, but I still find myself liking you! I know you are playing me like fiddle, but I still find myself wanting to be near you. Wanting your attention. Wanting you to kiss me on the mouth instead of just on my neck and all those little stupid little things that you tease me with to make me like you! I—”

“Do you want me to?” Raphael asked calmly with an amused smile, looking at her lips.

“To what?” Tav asked, annoyed at getting interrupted in her drunken rant.

“Kiss you,” he said and leaned in slightly closer.

“Oh, and now you’re just trying to shut me up and not even address—”

He interrupted her by pulling her into a kiss and she felt her heart beating ten times faster. She melted into him, despite herself. Her fingers tangled in his hair, like his were in hers. It was a hungry and passionate kiss. It felt as if they had both been waiting a long time for it.

All her worries seemed to melt away for a moment as she got lost in him.

Astarion sighed tiredly and leaned up against a wall while he watched Gale work at trying to remove the magical protection on Tav’s house. Gale had a look of pure concentration on his face while he tried to figure out what kind of warding magic was guarding her house.

“Gods, you look silly waving your arms about like that,” Astarion commented. “I could never be a wizard.”

Gale ignored him. Astarion sighed dramatically at the lack of reaction from him.

“What is taking you so long?” Astarion asked impatiently. “And what is she even trying to protect in there? Her dusty old books?”

“Some of those ‘dusty old books’ are very rare and very precious tomes, and many wizards would love to get their hands on some of them, which is why this is taking so long,” Gale said, frustrated with Astarion’s impatience. “She has taken all precautions to keep them safe.”

Astarion looked at him with a tired expression.

“Why is it even necessary that I am here if it’s all guarded by magic?” Astarion asked.

“Because I suspect the lock will be protected somehow. A simple Knock spell probably won’t work on it. It has to be lockpicked, which most likely will not be an easy task for you either,” Gale said. “As I said, she has taken all precautions.”

Astarion started pacing around in circles behind Gale.

“This seems like an awful lot of work to put into retrieving a hammer that we cannot even bring to her,” Astarion said.

“It’s not about bringing it to her,” Gale explained while squinting at the glowing magic on the door. “It’s about making sure we have it and that it is safe. If she is wearing the same constructs as Prince Orpheus, then that hammer is her only way out of Raphael’s claws. We should keep it close, just in case.”

“It seems perfectly safe where it is, given that we cannot even get to it!” Astarion said with a hand gesture that accidentally knocked over a potted plant that was placed on a pillar beside the door.

Gale winced at the sound of it crashing to the ground but did not move his eyes away from what he was doing.

Astarion looked down at the broken flowerpot and dirt that was now sprawled on the ground. He saw something in the dirt and leaned down to pick it up.

“Move,” Astarion said and moved in front of Gale.

“What are you—?”

Astarion placed the key he had found into the keyhole of the door. It made the lock glow and the door unlocked.

“She didn’t take all precautions it seems,” Astarion said with a smile and walked inside.

Gale huffed and followed. He used a spell to light up the candles she had around her house.

Once light fell over the living room, the both of them stared at the shelf where they had seen the Orphic Hammer on the other few times they had visited her.

Astarion pointed to the empty shelf and then looked at Gale with a furrowed brow.

“That seems…not good…” Astarion said.

Gale made a sharp inhale and tried to calm himself.

“Perhaps she has simply redecorated,” Gale said, sounding like he did not even believe in that himself. “We need to search through every corner of her house. It has to be here.”

Their kissing session had unsurprisingly made them end up in Raphael’s bed. They had sex and it had once again felt oddly loving and sweet.

Tav was resting against Raphael’s chest with his arms around her. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She felt so comfortable. Her drunkenness made her overthink the situation less for once and she felt so content.

She had butterflies in her stomach from it all. She could worry about the reality of it all tomorrow. Tonight, she wanted to pretend that everything was fine and just enjoy his sweet attentions.

She tightened the grip of the arm she had around his waist, pulling him closer and nuzzling her head against his chest. It earned her a satisfied groan that almost sounded like a purr from him. She felt him burying his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply, and taking in her scent before leaving another kiss.

“You should sleep, dearest,” he purred against the top of her head.

That was a new one, Tav thought. He had never called her anything other than ‘dear’ or ‘mouse’. ‘Dearest’ made her heart beat slightly faster again.

“Mm,” she mumbled and traced her fingers over his stomach. “In a little while. I’m not in any rush to feel the headache I’m going to have tomorrow.”

He began massaging her scalp with his hand. It felt like heaven.

She kept lazily tracing patterns on his stomach until she suddenly heard Gale’s frantic voice in her mind.

“The hammer is gone. We searched your entire house, and it’s gone, Tav. We won’t stop looking, but we cannot find it.”

She froze.

“Something wrong?” Raphael asked softly. She could have sworn she felt him smile against the side of her head.

Cassius was the first suspect to spring to mind. He had motive to steal the hammer from her house, but he would never have succeeded entering with his very limited knowledge of magic. No. That was not it.

The uncomfortable truth clicked in her mind. Raphael had not made a fuss about her contacting her friends and he had very suddenly had a change of heart about her being guarded day and night. When he was teaching her to play the organ, he had seemed so happy for some reason and something he said echoed in her mind:

‘I closed a deal that has been quite the headache for me and successfully retrieved something of mine.’

Her heart started beating faster again, but now out of anxiety instead of infatuation. She was suddenly very sober. He had made a deal with someone with enough magical knowledge to break into her house and remove her only chance at escape.

She tried to slow her breathing and act calm.

“No no…” she mumbled. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You know,” Raphael said and placed another soft kiss on the top of her head. “It is quite easy to know when someone is receiving a sending spell…”

Her blood ran cold.

“People have a tendency to stop breathing, when they are listening intently, you see,” he said. “And given the way your heart is pounding, I take it your dear friends visited your house and came out empty-handed…am I wrong?”

She did not answer, which made Raphael chuckle and whisper in her ear:

“Are the puzzle pieces starting to come together, love?”

[honeydippedwaffles]

Request: Our Intertwined Fates

Request Information: A set of possibly two or three parts surrounding one my mutual's favourite, non-companion characters in the game: Rolan. This in a look at how Rolan and Tav's relationship builds over the course of the story from a friendship to something more.

Tav is not referred to by name.

Content Warnings: She/Her Tav

Word Count: 2.1k words

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

The scent of rust mingled awfully with the flowering bushes surrounding the grove. Something felt wrong about strolling into such a place with goblin blood still drying on her armour and the cling of an abduction over her shoulders.

She did so regardless, muscles strung tight from a battle nearly lost and an argument she could scarcely defuse. Who knew helping somebody out would cause such trouble.

“We’re off to a great start,” she said to nobody in particular. “Barely free of some wretched pod and already we’re wrapped up in another conflict.”

Her companions and her had crashed into this isolated area of coastline just the very morning they stumbled into this grove. How they’d managed to get themselves involved in whatever impossible argument was occurring between tieflings and druids escaped her understanding.

“This really isn’t our business,” she admitted to them when they looked at her. “But I suppose if we’re going there anyway, the least we can do is talk to the head druid? It won’t do any harm.”

She lied to herself like that sometimes.

If somebody asked her for help, she’d never been able to turn them down. Offering her assistance felt negligible in the grand scheme of things and this conflict really seemed to have a solution she could find. It would help also, to have the grove’s knowledge on her side.

Those excuses really didn’t feel genuine when the threat of a tadpole behind her eyes lingered.

Yet despite having it in mind, when she overheard an argument, she couldn’t help herself but stop to listen. The trio of tieflings sounded so irritated with one another as they fought about whether they should remain with the group or forge their own path to the city. A fight they’d clearly gone over before if the exasperation said anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we don’t even know these people. I’m not sticking my neck out for every person we come across. With my magic, we have nothing to fear about the path to Baldur’s Gate as long as we leave now.”

“Just because we don’t know them doesn’t mean we should abandon them here. What use are all our spells and blades if we don’t even use them to help people.”

She listened curiously, not planning on interjecting but also wondering about the goal of Baldur’s Gate. Some things unfortunately rarely changed and she couldn’t help but worry for this group. “Does Baldur’s Gate welcome tieflings at all?”

Her question directed itself at nobody in particular and yet, she must have spoken loud enough for them to hear as the three all turned to her with various expressions of disinterest or appreciation. She shifted uncomfortably beneath their gazes and smiled to show she hadn’t meant to get involved.

“More so than other cities,” one of the tieflings answered. “Perhaps they’ll stare but nobody will pull a blade out. It doesn’t really matter either way because I’ll be welcomed. You’re speaking to the recently accepted apprentice of the great wizard Lorroakan.”

Tall, haughty, and certainly pretty enough to be a wizard rather than a fighter, she could tell he had a great deal of trust in what he said.

Maybe even too much.

Lorroakan sounded familiar but she couldn’t place why it felt wrong. A wizard certainly but not one whose name carried very good rumours alongside it. She could share what she knew but to do so felt wrong and so she smiled.

“Congratulations,” she urged. “You must certainly be very talented to earn yourself such a grand apprenticeship.”

“I assure you, I am.”

“Then it sounds as though your help could be invaluable to these people who are blessed with neither magic nor fighting skill.” Her gaze drifted to where children and others attempted to spar with sloppily created training dummies. “Honestly, I believe they’ll need all the help they can get.”

He frowned; caught in the small trap she’d created through his own confidence. She felt a little bad for taking advantage of his arrogance but she hadn’t been lying when she commented on the tieflings.

They probably wouldn’t survive a day against the goblins.

“That’s what I’ve been saying. We have to stay and help.”

The wizard looked between her and the others before he threw his hands up in agitation. “Fine but if we end up rotting on a road because of this, it’ll all be your fault.”

He stormed off and she glanced awkwardly at the others. Perhaps she had overestimated their skills but she doubted their chances even more if they split from the group and tried to do it alone.

But if they died, the weight would never lift from her shoulders.

“Thank you for intervening. Rolan can get obnoxiously stubborn at times but he’s a good person. He’d have regretted choosing to leave later.”

She laughed awkwardly, unsure how to respond beyond offering her name as a means of introduction before hurrying off. They had so many problems to face, far more dangerous than even taking on a slew of unending goblins. Such a thing could wait until after the worm got removed.

One poisoning later and another child rescued and they took on the very task she’d tried to avoid, regardless of Astarion’s unimpressed complaints about it.

They ended up fighting through a, quite frankly, impossible number of goblins after rescuing a massive druid from the dungeons. Followed it with a battle against shadow druids who were disguising themselves as rats. And then still ended up standing exhausted at a party with the blood not fully washed from her hair.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t skulk away into her tent so early into the night. Everybody wanted to speak to her and she was now avoiding Lae’zel as best she could after the gith caught her off-guard with the strangest proposition she’d ever heard. Flattered, but uninterested, she looked around for help and eventually caught Lia’s eyes.

“What are we doing?” she asked.

“Rolan’s going to put on a show for us,” Lia told her, excited and a little teasing. She, like many of the others, appeared a little tipsy as she gestured to her brother. “Watch.”

“Patience,” Rolan chided. “You have no respect for showmanship.”

“Performance issues,” Cal whispered to her and she laughed behind a palm despite the wizard’s glare.

After all the near misses with fireballs through the day though… well, she really hoped whatever magic he wanted to use involved snow or water. Anything she didn’t have to dodge.

He surprised her pleasantly with neither and the small cascade of dancing lights lit up the sky in pretty shades of blue. She’d seen children do similar magic when first learning of their abilities and it never failed to make her smile.

“He can also make them purple,” Cal told her proudly.

She politely clapped and tried to keep her expression supportive of the tiefling trio. Rolan had skill enough to make something of himself in Baldur’s Gate… if his tutor held up to his expectations.

And, of course, the group had to get there first but she had faith. Zevlor, if nobody else, looked well equipped to shield his group from danger.

“You’ll do brilliantly with the proper training,” she complimented when she noticed Rolan’s gaze hover over her for a second longer. “You can ask Gale about some spare scrolls we found while exploring. They may come in use during your travels.”

Rolan straightened his spine beneath the praise, pleased with his successful show. “I have no need for scrolls but I thank you for the offer.”

She laughed and raised her glass to him. “If you say so. The offer still stands.”

She bid the three siblings good luck with their further travel and stepped away to clear her head, finally seeing an opportunity to seek peace and quiet. The shadows provided some solace as she made her way into the forest.

When she came across a small clearing, she settled on a log. It had been a long day filled with unending waves of enemies and her eyes felt heavier than ever.

She’d almost drifted off when she heard footsteps behind her. Footsteps, clumsy and unused to stalking through the dark. At least she knew it not to be an assassin, she imagined.

Although she’d expected Karlach or Gale rather than the tiefling she saw.

“Rolan?” she asked, confused as to why the wizard had followed her and now hovered uncomfortably at the edge of the clearing.

“Lia made a very good point,” he said, straightening imaginary creases from his robes as he spoke. “Scrolls could be useful if we get into a situation where my magic is lacking.”

She frowned for a second before she remembered her offer and waved back at the party with a smile. “Oh, right. Those are with Gale or one of the others. I don’t know what spells they have but any magic is useful, right?”

“Obviously but they’re mainly for Lia’s peace of mind. I don’t think we’ll have any problems when I have my thunderwave to handle threats.”

She smiled. “I’m sure. Make certain to aim for the nearest cliff.”

A wince followed as she remembered shoving a goblin from one of the rafters earlier in the day. She hadn’t appreciated the crunch of bones or the smear of blood… she hadn’t cleared out a goblin camp before the day and it really didn’t suit her.

“With any hope, you’ll have no need of spells at all,” she said. “I think the path to Baldur’s Gate should be open.”

“If it wasn’t, I don’t think they’d be singing your praises so highly,” he scoffed.

He took a few seconds to place the strange jealousy in his voice as not related to handling the goblin camp but rather the heroism of it. Strange, she’d never thought of a battle as something to be envious of. She certainly left with a great deal of pain in her ribs to show for it and little else.

“Something wrong?” she asked, fixing him with a soft gaze.

Rolan shrugged but she noticed the way his tail flicked, irritated, back and forth. He watched everything besides herself, not truly meeting her eyes as he gazed around the clearing.

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m just hoping you haven’t given my siblings any ridiculous notions about going off and being a hero. They’re not the type to walk through a goblin camp with no problem.”

She smiled, understanding his concerns. “I’m sure they’ll be fine. It’s not about being a hero, it’s about giving help where it’s needed and… I suppose it was selfish too. I needed a healer and Halsin was my only option.”

“A healer?” he repeated, gaze lingering over her bruises. “Did he manage to fix whatever’s wrong with you?”

Her heart thudded a little and her stomach sank. He hadn’t been able to do anything for her. Halsin pointed her in a direction and promised to help but he couldn’t remove the tadpole from her head. Every day, she ended up closer than ever to becoming a creature from her worst nightmares and she could do nothing.

Honestly, it may have contributed more to her mood surrounding the party than the actual exhaustion had.

“No, then?” Rolan asked.

She shook her head and tried to shake free of the worries. “Unfortunately, my condition goes a bit beyond his talents but he did give me a way forward. We’re heading toward Moonrise Towers to look for answers.”

‘You don’t sound confident.”

“It’s hard to be sometimes,” she admitted. “But I don’t really have much of a choice in what I do next.”

He coughed, a little awkward as he shifted his weight from side to side. “Well, I mean you’re clearly more than capable of handling things. I’m sure getting to wherever will be easy enough for your little group of heroes.”

She laughed at the unexpected and strange praise. “Thank you, Rolan.”

He nodded and seemed about to turn around and leave so she stood and the movement momentarily froze him. She leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to cheek in thanks.

“You’re going to do great with your studies,” she said. “I’ll be sure to brag to everyone I know once your name becomes renowned.”

Somebody once told her tieflings couldn’t blush but she swore she saw colour darken the tops of his cheeks even in the dim light of the forest.

Taglist: @miwn8

[seiless]

This may get a bit dark, but how about some heavy hurt/comfort. I used my irl d&d campaign as my Astarion route Tav (tiefling wild magic sorceress) intending for BG3 to be the next adventure in her storyline after the d&d campaign... then my DM threw some really messed up angst at her, knowing I'm a lover of angst and Astarion. Turns out her mother (a queen & sorceress) had been using her as a pawn to seduce, charm, and eliminate rivals who wished to usurp her throne, then erased the memories and planted false ones.

So maybe dome hurt/comfort of Astarion when Tav finds out what she's actually been through, her life has been a pie, etc etc? If this is too heavy/too specific, pls just delete but the campaign has been being A TIME for me and I need some Astarion affection

(The first prompt is finished, at last! Many more to come! U V U)

You were used. Of course you were. If all your other companions had some sort of difficult or twisted past, why would you be any different?

But it wasn’t that you had one as well that bothered you. What had your stomach in knots and your heart twisting apart was the fact that it had been happening your whole life…and you hadn’t ever once noticed.

That you weren’t just your mother’s daughter; no, far from it. You were your mother’s tool. A weapon for her to wield, to manipulate and coerce others to do what she needed them to do.

Not only did you never have a say in the matter…you didn't even realize it. Not until your memories were forcefully returned by the tadpole and broke whatever insidious curse that kept the truth at bay.

They didn’t come all at once; they started as nightmares, over the course of months. The kind that became more frequent, more vivid.

And then the realization struck; they weren’t nightmares at all. They were memories. Shadowheart helped you come to this realization when you explained what you were suffering through each night.

Astarion had been awre of these dreams that tormented you; sharing a tent did make that easy. But you had insisted he not worry; it was your problem to resolve, and he had enough he had to deal with.

But that didn’t stop him from keeping a close eye on you. So when you strode from Shadowheart’s tent that night and made a beeline for your own, he could tell quite clearly something was wrong.

His gaze flicked to Shadowheart, who had lingered at the entrance and watched as you steppped away. She was worried; that much was obvious.

Astarion pursed his lips, but knew there was little time to wait. With a lift of his chin and a fluff of his tunic, he made his way over to the tent you had disappeared into.

Of course, he could hear the sobs before he’d even reached you. The sound was muffled, pressed into the palm of your hand. 

It did make his heart twist. You had done so little to deserve such distress (well, in his unbiased opinion).

His initial thought was to dismiss any heartfelt attempt at comfort, say something lighthearted and teasing to break the heaviness that suffocated the tent.

He thought better of it, and instead reached out to take hold of your hand, gingerly forcing your attention away from the bedroll you had all but pressed yourself tightly into.

You turned your head some, offering a little acknowledgement to the vampire.

But there was little else you could do; not without a whole new waterfall of tears gushing forth.

“What did they say?” He asked gentlyin a soft voice; gentle enough that it might coax you from the whimpering.

You shook your head, averting your gaze back to the dirt in front of you.

“It was all real. The nightmares…t-they were memories. All of it. .I was…I was a tool. A pawn, used by my own…” You choked back a sob, and he could hear your teeth grind as your jaw clenched tightly. My own mother.”

Astarion nodded quietly; he had suspected as much, given the vividness and the sheer amount of detail you were able to recall with each instance.

You bit your lip, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I don’t know what to think…the things I did for her, Astarion, what I thought was right, what would help her….the people I hurt, that I-!’

“I’m quite familiar with it, darling.” Astarion’s tone remained gentle, if only with a hint of a teasing lilt. “If it’s any comfort, at least you didn’t know the things you were doing were inherently wrong.”

You whipped your glare back to him, pulling your hand from his. “That doesn’t make it any better. That makes it worse. I couldn’t even atone for my sins because I thought it was the right thing to do. That I was doing it for her- Gods, I can’t believe…”

There was a deep, unending understanding in his heart. There were few who could understand what you were going through. 

“I…I am sorry, my love. I know exactly what you’re going through. To have come from your own mother is unfathomably awful. It is something no one deserves…least of all, you.”

You nodded, pushing the tears away as you worked to sit yourself upright. Your expression was bordering on embarrassed; sheepish. Like you were ashamed to be telling him any of this.

“Thank you, Asta, really. But…but I don’t think it’s anything like what you had to go through. I wouldn’t dare compare the two things.”

“You didn’t. I did. You weren’t given a say in your actions; certainly, you may not have been tormented and brutalized in a whole host of different ways, but-”

“My point exactly,” You frowned, this time moving to take his hand in your own. Your body was hot with sorrow; with anger. “You don’t need to try and-”

“I’m not doing anything other than giving you the same compassion you've shown me. You needn't belittle your experiences simply because it doesn't compare to my own.”

“I-I’m not trying to comp- I just- I’m sorry. I’m a mess.” You shook your head, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to be this. I hate that this is what I am. I hate that she made me this way, and I didn’t even know it. And I don’t want to t-talk about it either, because I’m hardly t-the only one with issues like this!”

“But you still need time to process it, as we all did. And you will not be alone in this. Quite the contrary; I’m certain there’s a number of people that are willing to be there for you, aside from myself.”

“That’s…that’s true.” You sniffed, taking in a long, shaking breath in a feeble attempt to calm down. “I’m sorry. You're right, I’m just…I’m not in a good headspace. I do need some t-time to process it.”

“Couldn’t agree more, darling.” Astarion smiled softly, “Would you prefer to be on your own? I’ll gladly fuck off, if you demand it.”

“No.” You shook your head, holding out a trembling hand. “I want you to stay.” 

Cool fingertips skated over your palm, and laced with your own as he drew you gently into his chest. Deceptively broad, and reliably strong, you melted into him, unwinding your hands so that you could properly wrap your arms around him and fall into a much needed embrace.

Astarion laid you both down gingerly, prizing your comfort as the floodgatesopened once more.

You don’t know how long you cried, and at certain points, you weren’t entirely sure what your breaths were hitching for.

But when the storm passed, and you finally cried yourself asleep, Astarion was there.

Unwavering in his loyalty, reluctant to let you go for even a moment, his thoughts were filled only with you.

Well, you and a variety of schemes to take revenge on your mother, but you nonetheless.

You were there in the darkest of times, and knew you would remain at his side when he finally found the strength to face his greatest fears.

There could be no doubt that he would do the very same for you. He would never allow such a concern to ever cross your mind.

[lagncx]

Stink bomb kisses pt2

Tw: body horror: zombie reader: Mention of Cazador: Astarion being captured: Astarion being a bit ooc: corny. Idk…

Wc: 3k

Enjoy.

Song quotes for this “fuck the rest of them, fuck em all, fuck em all but us.” Watermelon- Jane and John Q.

——-

Zombie reader

It was food time. Karlach sat on the ground next to the cooking pot Gale was tending to “Star coming?” She asked laying back with an omphf and a crack in her back Gale sighed “Don’t know…he’s been isolated from us since Tav and him separated.” Gale shrugged. Tav had separated with Astarion; their relationship was rocky. Tav didn’t really seem to show much interest in his needs disregarding his new freedom of choice.

The last straw was when Tav told Astarion “It’s not that big of a deal, love just drink her blood. You do it all the time” Astarion had dropped his mouth open, his eyes wide and glossy looking at Tav…the hurt, the pain was on his face and Tav just stared at him. Asshole.

Gale sighed, setting down a bowl in front of everyone “maybe I should bring him a cup of wine.” Shadowheart said, her eyes scanning the camp to see where he might be.

But where is he?

Alert rose in everyone as Shadowheart shared her thoughts through the tadpole. Astarion was missing. Karlach looked at her “hells? What do you mean he’s missing!” she said out loud. Shadowheart scratched her head “He’s been a recluse recently but never completely off grid!” Shadowheart reasoned.

Wyll stood up “Everyone search everywhere! I don’t care how long it takes to look in every nook and cranny till you find him! If you can’t find him, bring a piece of his damn hair. We already knew Astarion was at risk.” Wyll said hurrying off into the direction of the woods calling for Astarion. Everyone dropped their food and did the same, Gale sighed sadly at his bowl before taking one last bite and putting it down and joining the search party.

When he wasn’t found they came to the conclusion that He was kidnapped by one of the gur or Cazadors lackeys.

So it was time to plan “With his hands on Astarion we have limited time we have to move now!” Shadowheart pointed out. “Yea but how the hell do we find him?!” Karlach yelled she was burning up anger seethed through her. Gale hummed “Maybe…no.” Karlach growled “spit it out!” Gale sighed “It’s a small hope but scratch won’t be able to track him. There is… stinks.” He said, clearing his throat. Everyone looked at him “stinks?” Karlach said “it’s been weeks since they kinda exploded. Can we even get them back, and what makes you so sure they can find him?” Shadowheart said

Gale chuckled “stink is one of a kind…we can bring them back and now that I know more than I did before I think I can bring them back permanently and I know for sure they could find Astarion if he was an ant in a colony.” Gale hummed “Their name is all I need and a grave.” Gale smiled feeling smug.

——

You were stuck in your own repeating hell. It played the same Astarion hugging you and turning you back into the pile of nothingness you once were, just a zombie. “No importance to him” he would spit, “something to use.” He would laugh as you rotted down to the bone, your eyes oozing pus and tears. Over and over again. You sniffled as your body regenerated “no more please. Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this purgatory?!” You yelled defeated. You sighed it was the same you would call out to yourself and then Astarion would call out to you. You would be torn on where to go whether to choose yourself or Astarion and you always ran to him.

It’s pathetic really…you didn’t even know who he was before he brought you back as some zombie soldier yet you still clung to him in this fantasy turned nightmare. So you ran his way things could be different…no they couldn’t it was a loop. You ran towards him, seeing him in the distance before you fell through the ground, the combined body fluids and goop sucking you down into the soil “Astarion!!” You screamed before being put on the ground. The air was fresher and the smell wasn’t so damp. You felt intact. “<💙> ?” You gasped you stayed still waiting for them to say it again “…<💙>” you pushed yourself off the ground with a grunt, you pushed your tongue against the familiar stitch that Astarion put to keep that tear in your jaw in check. You looked at the wizard “Gale!” You gasped he smiled “look at you! I did a good job.” He sighed. You looked down at your clothes…your skin. Still slightly green but you looked..less decomposed your flesh still different colors in certain places but it doesn’t fucking matter.

You hugged him tightly “thank you thank you thank you for getting me out of that hell!!” You sighed. You opened your eyes seeing the group surrounding you “guys!” You smiled looking at everyone “hi <💙>” tav said. You upturned your nose as if you weren’t just smelling your own top lip. Tav rolled their eyes.

Before things could get off track wyll came up to you “listen <💙> we need your help, that’s why we brought you back and you're gonna be here permanently.” You turned to him “So who odo I thank?” You smiled. Gale raised his hand “yes yes…” wyll sighed “Look we’re cutting on low time. We have an issue and it’s about Astarion.” Almost like time went slow your eyes twitched faster than anything “He’s not here.” You whispered Gale waved at you with his hand looking at shadowheart “what I say. She can track her way to him…like a weird…soul bind thing.”

You furrowed your brows “He’s nowhere near here…What happened?! Where is he?!” You talked so fast your body of very little health still hasn’t caught up with gales spell making you bite off a chunk of your tongue falling on the ground. Honestly you don’t even notice. Halsin mouths drops and he just lets out a quiet sob. You look down at your tongue twitching around before grabbing it and shoving it in your pocket.

Everyone clears their throat. Wyll sighs “I’ll fix it up for you while we talk about what happened.”

You sat at the campsite while they all sat around you. You gulped mucus awkwardly “you guys…want me to…find him?” You said struggling a bit. Halsin nodded “yes, and soon. We’ll be right behind you. But we need you to find him.” You bit your lip piercing the soft yellow green flesh “I don’t know if I could…I’m not. His.” You frowned “soul tie…if he doesn’t want me around anymore it’ll just fizzle out. I knew he wasn’t here because I didn’t smell him.” You have had a great sense of smell since becoming undead. You've loved feasting and the smells were so distinct. But now you're here permanently. Still a zombie but less pus bubble waiting to explode.

“He still wants you around…cried for days when you took yourself out.” Wyll said “never seen him cry before.” Gale hummed. You looked down at your hands thinking of all the times Astarion would have you hold any books he found on his travels.

Or him humming a soft tune while he pushed your fingers back and forth cracking your knuckles to get that rigor out of you.

He was never afraid to touch you or disgusted by you. You loved him for that…love…that was all you needed.

You immediately scurried towards the fire on your knees and closed your eyes. Gale looked at you “Oh stink…you're doing it now.” He said excitedly everyone was confused so Halsin explained “a soul tie is fragile like a string to an instrument when you pluck it it rings and vibrates she's the string and she vibrates over the space and it can ping Astarions soul. It’s beautiful.” He sighed dramatically

You took a deep breath “Show him to me…please” you whispered to the gods above.

…just one more time…help me. Help him.

Suddenly like a drop of fresh water you felt it wash over you like a droplet landing on the soft silk of a spider's web you felt a chill run down your spine. You opened your eyes and turned towards the hill that overlooked the grand city.

“I can feel him. His soul is still tied to mine.” You got up almost lunging yourself down the hill before feeling hands holding you back “woah there!” Halsin hushed you. You scoffed “there’s no time to wait!!” You growled pulling against them, their fingers digging into your skin easily like putty.

Wyll pushed you on your ass. “I hear you. But listen.” You growled fussing under your breath “shut up and listen” Karlach whispered as kindly as she could to you. You closed your mouth and it twitched slightly.

Wyll sighed “When we get there our goal is to rescue Astarion…but when Astarion gets free he will want to take on Cazador.” You looked around the group and shrugged “Fine! That’s fine! We can beat him!” Wyll shook his head “Astarion will be deathly ill since he’d be so starved and beaten he won’t be able to fight like he can on a full stomach. And we have no right to take that revenge from him” you laughed “I’ll just give him my blood.” You said and everyone just sighed La’zel grabbed a dagger and sliced your face, hells you couldn’t even feel that.

“Foolishness! You do not bleed! You can’t provide that for him!” She reasoned with you.

Provide? I can’t…provide.

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, the skin peeling back and breaking from the force easily. Your tongue felt the air of the outside while it wiggled around…you were nothing more than some dead pound of flesh…

That’s why we can’t be in love…I’m disgusting.

You sniffed and pulled away “Then we’ll bring him back here…kicking and screaming if we have to.” You stood up silently. Everyone seemed pleased and Gale, Wyll, And Karlach joined you. “Sniff him out for us soldier! We’re right behind you.” Karlach said.

———

Astarion jolted awake the small dozing off between this torture of not being able to let his arms rest was starting to grow annoying. Astarion wasn’t sure what to do, if he should kick and try and get out or if someone would come for him. Why should they? Not like they could find him anyway. He grumbled trying to pull himself up but he was weak…tired. In times like these…he could really use you. He hated the way it felt when he was searching for you, calling you chewing on his lip when he started to consider if Gale had put an end to you and dumped your stink somewhere else, but he went to the same spot you both sat and looked at the stars where you promised to keep him safe more than his…”partner” had done. You cared and never saw him as selfish. He missed you…

Almost as on cue he felt something so familiar tug on his cold still heart…his soul had felt a vibration ring out. Yours…you were still bound to him which means you’re…here. Alive!? Not alive but on this plane!

He laughed to himself, tears falling off his cheeks…you were up and searching for him…course you were.

——-

You busted into the manor ignoring the shock gasps and yells from the servants. Karlachs heat melted their damn mouths…not actually but her aura was hot enough. You made your way to the room with the big door but you pulled away and looked around you like a fly was buzzing you saying “Fuckkk youuu”. You mumbled to yourself, Gale turned to you “what? What is it?” You backed up through the hall and your head turned to the wall and you immediately fell against it. “star….he’s in there.” You whispered. Before pushing down on the wall opening it and there he was bloody and beaten like a wilting rose you felt your legs crumple but you had to be strong you whimpered as you nearly ripped the rotting metal from his wrist. He was on his feet this whole time. You had your hands ready to catch him if he fell but he seemed to be alright with standing.

“Star?” You whispered your voice filled with the sound of mucus in your throat. He stepped towards you, his voice small and shaky. “…stink…you came.” Then he fell into your arms. You held him close, his body limp against you. You panicked and it was evident in the way your started to pick at your skin on your arms. Gale came up to you and whispered “it’s okay…just pick him up and we’ll head back to the camp. Quick as a fly.” He smiled reassuring you.

You smiled feeling Astarion cling tighter to you as you carried him in the safety of the familiar alleyways of the city. You decided to split from the rest since it would draw less attention. But before you took another step you sat Astarion down using one arm to help him stand “Star…hey, wake up.” You pulled out a spare shirt from your very very old pack. And put it on him “Raise your arms.” You whispered, pulling it over him. You weren’t sure if his…scar made him feel self conscious or if he didn’t like peering eyes. You weren't sure how to comfort him or talk to him so you chose to stay silent.

You made the shirt even and turned around hoisting him up on your back. Bless the gods for your zombie strength. Astarion wasn’t some small guy. You sighed softly and continued your way to the outskirts of Baldur's gate. You looked down

I cant provide hes probably starving.

You were lost in those thoughts before getting pulled away at the feeling of lips against your neck “I can walk on my own darling…please don’t pamper me.” He whispered. You shook your head “I’m not I’m not…it’s just you collapsed

immediately.” You said but let him down without any fuss. He wobbled slightly but held onto you. “So…where are we…” you shrugged “a trail back to camp.” He nodded and started walking. It was a comfortable silence to him but you looked troubled. He didn’t even need to ask

“I’m sorry.” You said that feeling rising the first time you exploded when you got sad, leaving this realm. You stopped walking feeling your skin rot almost like it was melting the way your skin dropped off your muscle and muscle to bone.

“I’m sorry I even left, and you got captured. I’m sorry you're starving and I can’t feed you…cause I’m not alive. I’m useless. And…that’s why you can’t love me. Because I’m not good enough. I didn’t think when you pulled me back to this ground to this realm that I’d…fall for you.” You felt yourself sinking like the ground was pulling you in. You remember this feeling…when you pulled yourself back to the realm of the dead. You accepted the comforting pull back into the cold void of your own thoughts remembering being curled up stuck in a loop of running to Astarion only for him to never be yours. He’d never be yours.

Suddenly you felt everything still..your thoughts, body, the world…your soul.

Almost like your soul was being washed over with cold water you felt the familiar weight of the world on you…the world…your world, Astarion. His arms held you tightly so tight you thought you’d pop like a stink bomb. You laid your head on his shoulder. It was like this for who’s counting…4 minutes

“I don't need you to make decisions for me.” He said softly, pulling away you saw his eyes a brighter red than ever before…side effects of hunger you guessed. “I don’t need you to pity me or feed me like I’m a newborn.” He frowned, making you look down “I’m sorry” you whispered. You felt hands rubbing the back of your knuckles massaging the bone, the soreness, the stiffness of death leaving those joints…just like when he used to before. “I don’t love you.” He said with a smile. You almost flinched away so hard you swore the rushing water in the river looked inviting.

“But…I want to.” He whispered softly his fingers letting go of your knuckles and intertwining with your fingers. “We truly have all the time in the world to get to know each other…and Gale got you cleaned up…you're not exactly…well rotting corpse. Unless you do that breakdown thingy again. But you won’t. I won’t let it get to that point again. And I want to know it all, what you like to do, your past, your future other than me. All that stuff. And I’ll tell you the same.”

You felt like your heart was beating…it wasn’t but gods it felt like it was racing. You nodded eyes wide open. “Come darling, let's get to camp”

—-

You sat down the chubby badger next to him “good?” You asked, Astarion laid in his tent “Hm?- what in the hells! Don’t- don’t put it in the tent!!” He grumbled pushing the dead animal out the tent starting to burn some type of incense “Were you raised in a barn?!” He scoffed. You looked at the badger carcass in front of you “blood is draining from it. You might want to eat it.” You blinked blankly making him snort and sigh, deciding to enjoy this meal. You turned your head away from his feasting looking down at your knuckles “Getting stiff my dear?” He hummed “no…you asked if I was raised in a barn?” You smiled at him.

Astarion looked at you, his face covered in that delicious forbidden red sauce. “Was I right?” He chuckled, you shrugged, “Well no, I was raised in a castle.” You said your fingers traveled from his neck where he slightly bent it from the ticklish feeling, you brought your fingers up to his face wiping his lips with your thumb before putting it in your mouth humming in pleasure at the semi rewarding taste of something more…organic. You opened your eyes seeing Astarion looking at you “alright first, that was hot. Second, The hells do you mean a castle?! And how the hells did you end up here!!” He yelled

— maybe…you both could work.

((((Uhm so this is for my person who requested a part two for the zombie reader headcanon it was way longer than expected uhm I’m tired help. Uh expect a Karl Heisenberg fic and I think breaking will continue.)))))

@chaoticbardlady99 (for u! 🥺💙)

[soullessmocha]

heaven.

{ karlach x gn!tav }

rating: everyone

warnings: light spoilers, mild gore, death, angst

word count: 1499 

like with most of my writing i rarely re-read and go over it. i am mediocre writer with heavy bg3 brain rot after finishing my first playthrough of the game.

Your body felt cold yet hot at the same time as you felt life drain out of you. You stare blankly at the ceiling of the foyer in the House of Hope, a demonic spike going through your chest. “You dare to mess with me, steal my from me! Look how piteous thing you are. Let this remind your friends- AH!” Raphael hisses in your ear, his new form causing nothing but the smell of flint and death before he was slain. You barely realize how far your own body was flung until you hit the last soul tower, it crumbles over you as your body splatters on the ground. The horrific roars coming from the devil himself only deafen your ears more. You can’t hear anything. Just the ringing from your head and the screams. You couldn’t tell if it was your scream or your adventurous friends. Maybe even your lovers.

The hot weight of the stone was being ripped off of you. It’s a warm hand that turns your body over. “Oh gods, no, no, no, no…” The warm, honey-like, voice soothes through the ringing. You were saying the same thing as your body began to get so increasingly cold that even turning your joints brought splintering pain. “Hope, please! Help!” Wyll cries out but Hope can only stand over you with a distant look on her face. Karlach ripped off your armor to see where the damage was starting, “You’re not dying here soldier!” Her voice cracks, it makes your blood-stained lips curl slightly. Your bare hand grasps her bicep, “Karlach… No,” you choke out. She doesn’t listen to you.

With your body being moved you let out a blood-piercing scream that even the tadpole in your head couldn’t stand as it vibrated in your cranium in reaction. It was losing its life source. You. Karlach settles you on the sigil glowing in the foyer marble flooring. It was so cold for a place that was burning in one of the levels of Hell. The shiver sent down your spine only made a reaction in your body to spasm, cough up more congealed blood that was threatening its way through your system. Everything was shutting down on you. You couldn’t feel your lower half anymore. 

“We’re going to get you to Shadowheart-” Karlach choked out, her tears being burnt down her cheeks. Something she hasn’t been able to do in gods knows how many centuries. She was supposed to be the first one to go with her infernal engine only being a ticking time bomb. Not you. Not her deepest of love. Not her very own heart. She covers the puncture wound with her own hands, trying to stop the blood from seeping through anymore. She could only wince at your whimper from the pressure. 

“Please, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!” Karlach begs you, her forehead resting on yours. The warmth comforted you as everything around started to get dark and fuzzy. Yet Karlach was the only thing shining bright for you. In this moment her words of confession roamed in your head. It just wasn’t meant in the stars for the two of you but to go out with a bang was all she needed. 

You weakly feel your hand raise to her cheek, your thumb gently tracing over her features to memorize them one last time, “Out with a bang, right?” You couldn’t even recognize your voice, your hand slid from her cheek to her soft hair, feeling the locks one last time. Death was knocking on your door but you were fighting every second to be with your love. “You're going to go to Avernus,” you hiccup to get air into your lungs, “fix that damned engine of yours and make that bastard pay for what he’s done.” Your body spasms again as the sickly iron-tasting crimson splatters from your throat. “Don’t bring me back… Don’t ask Withers. You save the city. Save yourself. Then come and get me…” Your lower lip trembles as your world starts to crumble around Karlach her glow shining brighter as her sobs become more violent. She was shaking her head at your request. She didn’t even want to think about going through this alone, without her solider by her side. It couldn’t be done. Not without you by her side. 

“Please, don’t go.” Karlach whimpers against your cheek while she peppers warm kisses all over your cold skin, burying her face in the crook of your neck. “I can’t do this without you!” Her voice increases in volume and the flames dancing on her burgundy skin glow blue. All you can do is hold her close while her body curls around yours, rubbing her back with numb arms. “I love you,” you whisper in her ear but before you were able to place one last kiss on her beautiful face you slipped away. Your soul knew deep down that everywhere would be hell without Karlach by your side in whatever afterlife there was as it dissipated away.

Her back felt empty as your strength faded. Her body could nearly melt you away from how cold you were in her arms. “Tav?” she whispers noticing your arms fall by her side, caught on her armor. “Tav, wake up!” She lifted herself from your body, hovering to look you over. The sight horrified her. No longer did your eyes glimmer with life, they were dull. Lifeless. Your skin is pale and clammy from the damned heat of hell. Karlach gently cupped your cheek, her long nails gingerly brushing hair from your expressionless features. Your eyes were staring at the damning mural in the foyer ceiling. Karlach gently closed your eyes. Her warm lips pressed on each eyelid. Strong arms curl under your body to bring you close.

She stood shakingly, weak in every joint as a part of her had fled this realm. Tears flowed down her cheeks yet she was stoic. Unable to rest until your body was at peace. “I love you, **ph myirz.” 

You wake up in a familiar stone enclosure. Withers stood over your body watching you closely to make sure everything went right to his ancient doings. All you could do was blink up at the forgotten god. “Breatheth. Thee wilt beest did confuse and has't many questions. Howev'r, holdeth onto those folk and liveth again f'r tonight.  Th're is a celebration happening and many art waiting to seeth thee.” His dried hands help you sit up and bring your feet over the stone bed. 

Withers only gives you a nod towards the archway where you can hear music playing and chatter dancing in the air. You take in recognition of your own hands first, this is your body still. Nothing changed. Until you notice how quiet your mind is. Slipping off of the stone bed you run a hand through your hair, gripping the roots to set the reality that there is no more tadpole squirming in your brain.

As you walk across the tree bark others turn silent and watch you emerge from the shrubbery.  Eyes all new and foreign greet you with a softness only few could recognize as relief, their mourning was gone. Yet your eyes only searched for one flaming person. Then you see her around the bend of the stone. Karlach stood over the fire, her arms crossed as anxiety rippled over her features. Gold glowing eyes pierced into the bonfire as if she was silently praying to whatever god would listen to bring you back. Yet the sharp gaze stopped when she noticed you, standing afar. She could smell you again. 

The lost expression on your features made her grin fasten wider. Both of your bodies slammed into one another as you ran towards each other. This was your Karlach, not some twisted hell. It was her. The same scent of vanilla and ember came off of her heated skin. Tears blurred your vision, you buried your face in her neck. “You did it.” You whisper against her skin. Karlach only rocks the both of you. It seemed as if the world around the two of you didn’t matter anymore. “I did it,” she repeats after you before gently pulling you back to get a good look over you.

You could feel your very own heat rush to your face as her golden orbs take in your features. You hadn’t known how long it had been since she’d last laid eyes on you but from the looks of it. Too long. “Are you just going to keep staring or kiss me Karlach?” you quipped at her which broke her concentration. Her soft solemn smile turned into a cheeky grin as her hand landed just above your lower back and pulled you close, “You don’t have to ask me twice soldier.” 

With her lips planted on yours and the intoxicating smell of her scent, you knew this was heaven. She was your heaven.

** ph myriz = my heart (infernal)

[wellthebardsdead]

Lucy: *sighs and dusts herself off after obliterating Marcus and the winged horrors, her cambions ushering all the refugees out of hiding and checking for injuries, thankfully finding none* it’s a stupid thing to try lying to a devil miss Thorm.

Isobel: *freezes in shock*

Lucy: yes. I know who you are, I know ketheric is your father and he’s the chosen of Myrkul, that’s why you’re alive and not in the coffin our Druid halsin put you in after you turned on him for whatever reason. *looks back at Halsin* Yes. I know. *looks back at Isobel and Jaheira* Aylin is also alive Ketheric has her imprisoned in the shadowfell and I swear to all fucking hell shadowheart- *looks at her* If you don’t pull your head out of shars arsehole and listen to me I will sacrifice what’s left of my humanity to spend eternity personally making that wound on your hand feel like a mosquito bite in comparison to what I will do to you. *looks at Jaheira* Now if you will excuse me I am going to start winding down for the evening because I frankly am at my wits end and the next person to test my patience is going to get hurt.

Jaheira: *nods watching her eye twitch* Understandable.

Lucy: good. *walks off to go upstairs only to see Raphael sitting there still, looking at her expectantly* … *drops down in the seat across from him and turns the board around so black is on her side* leave it to you as a wet blanket not to jump in and help.

Raphael: *moves a pawn* you looked like you had it covered.

Lucy: *moves a pawn, blocking his* as I always do. You’re just like your father, can never be asked to lift a finger and always expect everyone else to work for you. The anagram of your name starting with Har and ending in Eep would agree.

Raphael: *shock visible on his face as she cracks his mask once again, jumps a knight as an aggressive opening* Who… told you about that?…

Lucy: nobody, I found out myself. *jumps her knight too matching his opening* I’m good at finding out things, I can do so without even needing a spy like your pathetic little warlock, Korrilla.

Raphael: you… two have met?? *steals her pawn*

Lucy: No, *jumps her other knight and smiles as he takes it* She’s just very bad at her job. The whole point of spying isn’t to be caught right? First lurking in my camp, then getting in my path at the goblins hive, and I bet I’ll no doubt run into her in the darkness out there. *takes out his knight with her pawn* you really should consider better help.

Raphael: *moves one of his pawns to protect from her knight* and that’s why I’ve chosen you my dear. Together we can help each other.

Lucy: *moves her bishop* I can certainly help you but there’s nothing you can actually do for me.

Raphael: *moves his bishop expecting her to move her queen* oh but I certainly can. I promise You won’t be able to remove your tadpole without me.

Lucy: *moves her knight instead letting him take her queen* I definitely can. *moves her bishop directly in line to hit his king*

Raphael: *moves his king forward* and how can you be so certain of that?

Lucy: Staffords Gambit. *moves her other bishop locking him into a checkmate*

Raphael: *staring in shock that he didn’t see that coming* I’m unfamiliar with it.

Lucy: you’re so blinded by the end goal of your ambition and your overly inflated ego that you can’t seem to grasp the possibility that you could be so easily tricked by the pawns you choose. You can technically cure me of this tadpole yes. But not with anything you can actually do. Your magic is useless against it. Your answer will be giving me the tools and making me do all the work in exchange for something you want. And you’re just like your daddy… You don’t want my soul. *smiles* but by all means. Keep trying to underestimate me… And you’ll end up, just, like, that. *flicks over his king before getting up and walking off*

Raphael: *left with more questions than answers* …Where or who in the hells or all the realms is Stafford??… And what the hell did korrilla do to piss her off so badly?