#Alfira x reader

[sorcerous-caress]

Could I request Karlach, Shadowheart, and Alfira and Lakrissa together (if you’ll write for them together), when an embarrassed Tav nervously asks to sleep with them for the night because back home they shared a room with people and sleeping alone makes them paranoid which is causing them to lose sleep?

Asking to share a bed

[Fluff, suggustive, cuddling, nb!reader]

[Karlach, Shadowheart, Alfira / Lakrissa]

Karlach

She greats you with the same military nickname she gave you since the start, endearing in her own way as she fights back a yawn.

Your nervousness doesn't go past her, and wasn't it for the curl of a smile at the corners of her lips, you wouldn't have guessed she noticed either.

"Hell yeah, gods know I'd take any excuse to cuddle." Is her enthusiastic reply after you explain your situation. "Well, only if you're cool with cuddling, it's on the table, right?"

She takes your nod as permission to wrap her arms around you and playfully throw on you on the bed next to her, you softly bounce against the mattress before settling in.

It doesn't take long for her to drift off. The glow in her chest dimming, and the engine sounds muffling.

The heat is comforting, you realise as your eyes grow heavy, like a warm bath after a long day. Her big arms secured around you and making you feel safe, nothing bad could ever get to you whilst she held you this close, protected you from whatever lurks in the darkness.

The next morning, you wake up while still in her arms. She rubs the sleep from her eyes as she takes you in, a smile bright enough to rival the morning sun as she asked how was yout sleep, is she was scary enough to chase away any nightmares, her sharp teeth peeking through her lips.

Shadowheart

She's usually the last to go to her tent, preferring to bask in the darkness of the night. Linger amidst the shadows hidden from the moonlight and appreciate the beauty found in the allure of the unknown, the swirls in the shadows, and the fading of one's self to join a bigger and greater purpose.

It's when she'd usually get on her knees and pray, grovelling with her face to the sky.

You waited for her to finish, and the intimacy of the act felt almost forbidden to say wasn't it for her reassurance that it was alright before.

There's gratitude in her eyes afterwards, for the acceptance you've offered her, for the indifference you've gifted her with.

The answer to your question is met with hesitation.

"Just share a bed?" There are undertones to her words, "or do you mean like the bottle we shared?"

Heat flares up towards your cheeks at the memory, you play it cool. "Just share a bed, i promise."

Her covers are soft, princess like almost. A flowerly smell with fluffy pillows and layers of blankets neatly stacked at the end.

The smell of her shampoo is easily identified on the cover of her pillows. A half empty bottle of wine sits on the table nearby, next to a pocket-sized book.

As the two of you lay motionless under the covers, sleep doesn't come easy. There is an uncomfortable empty space between you.

And then you feel it, just under the covers, her hand moving towards yours, her pinky entangling with yours.

Shadowheart looks at you with anticipation, the space between the two of you close. You can feel her heartbeat falling into rhythm with yours as you drift off to sleep.

As the night fades and the morning comes, you wake up to the same hand hand still holding yours, on top of the covers this time. Shadowheart's focus on the small book she took from the bedtable, whispering and practising her spells for the day, preparing the healing ones beforehand.

Alfira / Lakrissa

The laughter and humming of a melody comes to an immediate stop as you knock on the door, the sound of clothes shuffling and the string of a lute being accidentally pulled follows.

You wait patiently, looking around the hallway to pass the time as your eyes glance over the various oil paintings of the elfsong tavren. Feeling disappointed when you came to the realisation that despite its name, their paintings weren't just of elves.

"Hello there, Hero." The door swings open as you're greated with the sight of Lakrissa in her night attire. Behind her, Alfira quickly came into view as she realised it was you waiting in the doorway.

With a smile, she urged Lakrissa to invite you in, the other obliging with amusement.

The mellow atmosphere from before slowly returned, both women feeling at ease around you as if you were a long lost friend.

As the conversation went on, Alfira sat next to you.

"Thank you so much for allowing me to stay in your camp that night." Her words wer sincere, "Adventuring really wasn't for me at the end but, still, I'm grateful you didn't turn me away in the morning."

"How sweet." Lakrissa's arm wrapped around Alfira's waist, giving her cheek a small kiss. "Were you waiting for the chance to thank them all that time?"

"Hey don't laugh" a blush coloured Alfira's cheek as the other women teased her, "I just...well...yes so what if I did?"

"Then I'd say that's exactly just like you." Another kiss, this time a tender one to her forehead. Lakrissa let go afterwards.

Both of them made it clear that they'll be here if you ever need anything.

So when you stated your request with embarrassment, Alfira enthusiastically agreed. Lakrissa was pleasantly surprised at seeing her usually introverted lover so welcoming and eager.

Alfira is in the middle, Lakrissa hugs her back close to her own chest while you're held by the bard. Her hold is careful and loose, as one would hold a bird so gently in fear of damaging your wings.

You're so fleeting in both of their eyes, so close yet so out of reach. So even as they bodies entangle with yours, they keep your need for freedom in mind. Heros like you never liked to be tied down, and they never want to be a burden.

As the sunrays filters through the outside curtains and announce a brand new day, you slowly wake up the strumming of the lute. Lakrissa still sleeping, having moved to where Alfira used to be and cuddled into your warmth.

The bard is at the end of the bed, humming a soft melody as her fingers strum the cords.

[forgeofthenine]

Can they dance and will they dance with you?

They're great dancers and will dance with you

Our resident dancing kings and queens. They either know a few different dance styles or are very good at a specific one, either way they're more than happy to spin you around or be lead around the dancefloor. They're all highly in demand at parties and get togethers but they'll save a song or five for you ;)

KARLACH, Wyll, ASTARION, Zevlor, Alfira, Volo, ISOBEL

They're surprisingly good dancers and will dance with you

The black horses out of the crew. You wouldn't expect them to sweep you off your feet like they do, but it's certainly fun going along with it. They don't dance often, and might only dance if you give them puppy dog eyes, but it's certainly a sight to see.

Halsin, Shadowheart, GALE, ROLAN, Dammon, Lia, Bex, Aylin

They get stage fright/have a reputation but will dance with you in private

The shy ones, or they'd just prefer to keep up their reputation. You'll never have any luck if you ask in public, but they'd happily waltz you around the living room while pretending there's music. It's all a very intimate and private affair. Just how they'd like things.

RAPHAEL, Haarlep, GERALDUS, Dannis, RUGAN

They can dance but simply choose not to

It's nothing against you, really. They simply just don't dance. They'll happily cheer on or roast others they see dancing a jig but you wouldn't catch them doing it. It doesn't matter how much you ask, pester, or beg, it's simply going to have to stay a dream.

Jaheira, MINTHARA, The Emperor, Lakrissa

Someone is coming away with a bruise or two if they attempt to dance

If you try and dance with this lot it'll be limbs flying and feet getting trod on. For your own safety, please don't even ask them. If they happen to ask you, run.

LAE'ZEL, Cal

[pani-artz]

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

Words of mine will turn to ash

When you call the last light down

[randoimago]

Could I ask for headcannons about Karlach, Shadowheart and Alfira reacting to a very sappy romantic proposal?

Getting a Sappy Romantic Proposal from S/O

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Alfira, Karlach, Shadowheart

Type of Request: Headcanon

Note(s): I love this idea so much.

Alfira

Oh you beat her to it! She had a song and everything prepared for you, but instead she's dealing with these tears running down her face (happy tears, of course).

Can't even pretend to be a tad upset that you beat her to proposing because she's so happy. Of course she says yes. You better believe that she's still going to sing the song she wrote. Maybe not now because her voice won't sound good from crying, but she will find a time to surprise you.

You both had already talked about what your shared house was going to look like, but now that you're engaged, Alfira is coming up with so many wedding plans. She'll happily sing at the wedding too as long as there's no squirrels.

Karlach

Grinning from ear to ear as she watches you. Don't mind her, keep going S/O. Then again, she might not be able to help it as she picks you up and spins you around a bit (assuming she isn't going to burn you alive, that is).

She thought she was hot and bothered before, after that proposal she's going to take you back to her tent. After saying 'yes', of course.

Yeah she did think your proposal was overly dramatic and cheesy, but she loved every second of it. Might ask you to redo it another time since she was too busy being distracted by wanting to kiss your face to fully pay attention.

Shadowheart

Is dying on the inside. She's so happy that you're proposing and she'll absolutely say yes. But the way you're doing it is so cheesy and gods she hopes no one else is around because she knows she's a flustered mess even as she tries to hide it.

She doesn't want to interrupt you, but she hopes it doesn't take too long with the proposal. She figured you took a long time with this proposal, but she would've been just fine with a classic "Will you marry me".

Might just cut you off with giving you a kiss. She'll feel bad if you're pouting afterwards about the interruption, but the answer is yes. So please stop talking and just take her to bed already.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[save-a-forest-ride-a-bear]

╰┈➤ Welcome !

Raven/Ray | he/they/it | 20 y/o | number 1 halsin & gortash enthusiast requests: open (requests can be sent in EN/PT/ES)

╰┈➤ Rules

I write for: All companions (now including Minsc!), Gortash, Orin, Raphael, Haarlep, Kar'niss, Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor, Alfira, Jaheira, Durge, and probably some others i forgot about </3

needless to say I won't do stuff like pedophilia, zoophilia, non-con or anything like that. I also won't do yandere.

NSFW however is totally allowed.

honestly just don't be weird. if you don't know if I'm comfortable with something, send it in and I'll let you know.

the reader is always gender neutral unless stated otherwise

I delete asks when I don't have any ideas for them, so if I didn't answer yours, this is why. You can send smth else though!

╰┈➤ Masterlist

HEADCANONS

- ,, # Astarion x Rogue! Reader - ,, # General Dating Headcanons (Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin) - ,, # General Dating Headcanons (Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, Zevlor)

DRABBLES

- ,, # All I Want (Astarion x Reader) — Where Cazador's spawn find out about your secret relationship despite Astarion's best efforts to hide it and keep you safe. - ,, # Masochism Tango (Gortash x Durge! Reader) — He throws a ball with only one purpose in mind: to see his favourite assassin again. - ,, # Blood On My Name (Wyll x Cleric! Reader) — You kill someone for the first time and he's there to comfort you.

[asillylittleistik]

MASTERLIST

Shadowheart

When God's Favors Run Out (fic)

Contagion (fic)

Karlach

Alpha Karlach with omega reader

Lae'zel

Nothing yet...

Jaheira

Nothing yet...

Minthara

Nothing yet...

Alfira

Nothing yet...

Dame Aylin & Isobel

Aylin and Isobel with asexual reader

Other

Nothing yet...

[dracobrooklyn]

Durge x Reader Part 2

When you really like the design of the Cannon DragonBorn and his voice is like butter making you melt. I was sad you can't romance him and your the playable character instead. So Here I am going to write Headcannons of what if he was a romanceable NPC that was in your party.These are my thoughts taking bits and pieces from the Cannon and putting my thoughts and ideas into Durge.

|| MDNI || 18+ this will contain Themes of Language, Violence, and of course Sexual Content. DO NOT READ!!

Cannon!Durge x Tav!Fem!Reader

This will be in a Fem!Reader POV!!

Word count: 1,237

Part 2: Getting Closer.

TW: Death, the Mention of killing, fantasizing murder, nudity, Smut, and Oral sex.

Durge being in a party after slaying the Goblins and saving the Teifling folk and saving them from the Druids grove (He honestly wish he would have burn their tree down, cause fuck those guys). Everyone seem to be having a good time... well he really didn't have a good time. Shall we list those reasons? Well for one thing, he tried so hard to distract himself trying to block out those images of his nightmare. But the wine wasn't doing anything for him, guess Durge would have to drink at least 6 barrels of wine... but that wasn't happening, the other thing he wasn't a huge fan of being with so many people. People cheering him as a hero! It was nice for at least 2 seconds... but then it got more annoying that each drunk teifling came up to him "You are a hero mate, cheers!". He was trying to find you in all this madness. Some sort of familiarity and safety. But finding you, he saw you talking to Astarion. He was about to step up a little, but he noticed that he was flirting with you, and you seem to like it a lot. Kinda broke his little dark heart.

Deep down Durge wanted to grab Astarion. He wanted to choke him, he wanted to rip him apart, just to see his head fall of his shoulders, just to see him dead onto the ground and rip his intestines out feasting onto him... Durge felt sick all of a sudden, what was that? Why was he thinking that way? He had to get away, he needed air. He needed distraction. He then bumped into a teifling. Pretty little thing, Durge found out her name was Alfira, she talked with him, telling him how brave he was against the Goblins. Asking on what Lyrics she should use for her song... oh she was a bard. fantastic. Durge also noticed you were staring... he looked back at Alfira and even tried at his hand on flirting, just to maybe... maybe make you a little jealous? Even offered to have a one night stand with Alfira. Of course she took it. Leading her away from prying eyes into the forest.

Durge didn't take his time with stripping off his clothes, getting on top of Alfira kissing her, marking her with hickey's and bite marks from his teeth. Gods this was a perfect distraction. A good ol fuck to pass the night. Durge has a pretty good size for his cock and yes, Durge has a knot. He is pretty good in sex, so Alfira did sound like she was enjoying it. How he trailed his nips, and licking towards her breast, to her navel and finally to her core. Tasting her nectar that was glistening on her folds. She did taste divine... but he couldn't help but replace Alfira's face with yours. What would you sound like if he went down on you... what would you taste like? How soft and warm you would be in his claws, how he would made you came into his mouth, into his jaws to taste your sweet release. "jacida nhee kiabil". It was a blur though... he was so lost in the pleasure he became so feral... and once out of his haze he smelled... blood. He shook his head and looked down seeing was the once alive Alfira... dead, with her intestines ripped out all over the place. Durge standing back and even looked down at his hands... oh gods it's on him... did he do that? Panic coursed through his body. What has he done?!! He has to hide the body quick! He did so throwing her down the river watching it float away feeling sick... dirty... fucked up. He wash's himself in the river to get rid of the blood on his face and hands. God he felt sick, he needed to get back to camp, he needed sleep.

Durge of course not being able to sleep, he of course goes to walk out into the night, away from the party. The Nightmares were not helping either. He didn't want to wake you either. He was too busy trying to piece together the images from his images. He did write into the Journal you gave him but it still wasn't making any sense. Until he see's a random stranger appear-- oh god it's ugly! Was it a Goblin? The creature claimed to be your servant. A servant? Wait... was he a prince? Oh no the joke was biting him in the ass now. The creature called himself Sceleritas, a one hell of a butler he puts it. He must know you. He kept calling you by your name Durge. It was nice... he guessed? He had so many questions, he asked a few. Learning where he came from, and was made to guide him and help... murder people? Wait kill people? "That's how I found you, I could smell the Bards dead stench from across the sea!". Oh gods Durge felt sick. He wanted nothing to do with him. Sceleritas was a little sad to see his faithful master dismiss him so soon. But he wanted away... he needed you. You felt someone shaking you awake, looking up from your sleep gaze, you could see Durge's face that was filled with dredge and fear. You asked him what was wrong. He asked if you both could be in his tent to talk... just to help him fall asleep. You agreed of course. Anything for your friend Durge. You guys did talk almost all night, he seemed to calm down. That was good. "So are you and Alfira together?" you asked Durge "What? No we uh... we just uh... had a one night stand is all." Durge replied feeling nervous all of a sudden. "Oh... I was hoping to spend more time in the party but you were gone for me to find you." you said to him. "...I thought you wanted to be with Astarion?" Durge asked "didn't he... offer to give you a good time?" "Oh he did, but I declined him." you said to him "He's not my type." "Oh." Durge was relieved. Thought you didn't need to know that... no. Besides you wouldn't want to be with a... memory loss murderer. No he can't let you find out about what he did no... it would be awful. He lose you in an instant. "Did you want to try and get some sleep?' You asked Durge tilting your head to the side. Durge definitely did blush, the way you looked at him made him feel butterflies in his stomach. Boiling within his very core. He was smitten with you. You rejected the pale elf and you wanted to be with Durge instead. Pride was welling inside him. Maybe he did have a chance... maybe... praying to the gods. "Thank you for the talk." He says to you "I feel more... refreshed, please get some sleep itov." "itov?" you asked him "Was that draconic?" Oh shit "uh yes, it means friend." he lied of course... and you fell for it thank goodness. You left Durge to rest telling him goodnight as you walk back to your bed roll. And Durge watching you leave as he says softly "mel'thurkear." as he curls up to sleep... to try and hope no more nightmares would plague his mind tonight.

Draconic Translation: jacida nhee kiabil- His Sweet Companion. itov-Love mel'thurkear- Goodnight.

[katreneebug]

I'm Okay (Trust Me) (Part 1/3)

Summary: Defeating Rapheal, and subsequently obtaining the Orphic Hammer, had gone exceptionally well. At least in comparison to how things usually go. However, as the companions move forward with their plans of parasitic liberation, Astarion can’t help but notice that their leader, and his lover, isn’t quite herself. Despite Tav’s assurances, the vampire spawn can tell that the events befalling The House of Hope still haunt her in more ways than one.

Parings: Tav x Astarion, Minor Shadowheart x Lae'zel

Warnings: Explicit content, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Dubious Consent, Sexual Coercion, Slight Victim Balming, Sexual Trauma, Eventual Smut

A/N: I decided to write this after I got through the House of Hope on my first playthrough. At first I was really excited at the prospect of getting to bed an incubus in the game but after everything was done I kind of felt off about the whole thing. Especially given that the player, after deciding not to fight, is given the choice to either let Haarlep use their image to have sex with a bunch of strangers or straight up die. It hit a little too close to home in regard to my own sexual trauma and how that has affected my self-esteem, relationships, and mental health.

I want to stress that there are some aspects of the story that don't match with the gameplay. An example of this would be going beyond the party size. You can pretend that this story is based on that no-limit companion mod lol.

Link to AO3: Here

            No last-minute begging had left Rapheal’s lips when Karlach raised her axe above him. The fact that it had been the final stroke came as a surprise to Astarion and, based upon the silence that drenched the room, the others. Not too far behind her could hear Tav panting, her magic practically drained to its limits. In the peripheral of his eyes, he could see Shadowheart’s armor move up and down as she too sought to catch her breath.

            Hope, who appeared the most worn out of the bunch, stood frozen to her spot by the door. Karlach noticed her immediately and moved to check on her, weapon still sunk deep within Rapheal’s chest. Astarion took the opportunity to walk over to him, caution obvious in the way he gripped his dagger.  

            There was no final spook to be had, though. Rapheal was dead, eyes wide and mouth slightly a gape with no more theatrics left on his tongue.  Good Riddance, he thought. A smirk danced onto his lips as he decided it was okay to turn back towards his companions. Hope was no longer a statue, the erratic motions from before returned vigorously as she took in their victory.

            The memory of Cazador lying vanquished on the ground materialized in his mind. He brushed it away quickly as Tav’s eyes landed on himself. A half-smile was the most she could muster before Lae’zel garnered her attention, talks of the next step towards freeing Orpheus’ flew from the githyanki’s mouth in rapid, yet precise, order. The lines in Tav’s forehead creased as she let her friend speak. Deciding to take pity on his lover, Astarion moved to stand beside her.

            “—The Emperor will know of what we have done, we must act fast upon our return.”

            “I—”

            “Surely you can’t expect us to go straight into the undercity of Baldur’s Gate after quite literally killing a devil.” Lae’zel sharp glare snapped up to meet his eyes. “I for one am not doing anything till I’ve had time to clean up, all of this.” His hand, the one not resting centimeters away Tav’s lower back, motioned to the state of his armor. Rapheal and his friends had left the floors of the foyer dripping in all sorts of blood and guts and, while Astarion’s body was happily intact, his outfit begged to differ.

            “He’s right, we should get some rest before meeting with Voss.” Lae’zel’s head snapped to see Shadowheart approaching. “It would be foolish to confront a mind flayer and a devil on the same day.” Lae’zel didn’t reply immediately, though the answer for what they should do was clear, she was not any happier to admit it.

            “All right,” she spat. “Prepare for an early departure by dawn, I will not wait for anyone.”

            “Of course,” he hummed with a dismissive wave.

. . .

            “I’m just saying we should take some more time to discuss our next course of action.” Gale instinctively backed up as Lae’zel stalked his receding form. “It would be unwise to go in all wands blazing without considering the effect this might have.”

            “I am not leaving my Prince at the hands of a ghaik any longer.” Astarion had no interest in interfering on the wizard’s behalf. Watching the man sweat was more than amusing. “The only thing unwise would be for you to continue talking.”

            “What if freeing Orpheus leads to us losing our only protection from the absolute.” It was Wyll who stepped in between the two. No surprises there, the vampire thought. Lae’zel had burst through the doors of their room at the inn with an attitude ready to fight the next person who dared to go against her plans.

            “It will, I’ve already told you that freeing Orpheus will only result in him—”

            “Will someone please get the squid to shut up.” Astarion winced, feeling the pain of The Emperors telepathy within his mind. How lucky Halsin and Jaheira were to not feel such an annoying headache.

            “Gladly,” Lae’zel sneered.

            “There are still other issues that we need to address.” Halsin’s voice passed by Astarion from behind, he could feel the bear of a man coming closer to the group before passing the vampire all together to aid Wyll and Gale from the Lae’zel’s wrath. “Orin and Gortash are still alive, it would be best to get rid of them before going to the astral plane.

            “Agreed, we cannot allow the absolute to draw more power from the city. It’s time we faced them.” Halsin nodded an acknowledgement at Jaheira, her argument adding to the growing resistance.  

            Quickly the room devolved into a mass of bickering, Lae’zel mostly fighting alone on her side. It took Astarion a few moments to realize that there was something off about the whole scene. It stumped him briefly but the soft steps of someone else moving about in the background was the answer.

            “Not going to step in, dearest?” Tav jumped a bit as Astarion walked towards her, his back now to the group. “It’s very unlike you.”

            “It’s been a long day,” the bed bounced slightly as she dropped her pack onto it. “And I don’t feel like picking a fight with Lae’zel.” If only the rest were that smart, he thought. “She’ll see reason soon enough, anyways. We really do need to usurp Orin and Gortash while we can.”

            “I’m sure she will,” his lips curled. “Right after she breaks a couple of Gale and Wyll’s ribs, of course.”

            “Shadowheart will fix them up,” her body joined the bag as she sat down onto the covers. “Or Halsin, either way they’ll be fine.”

            “I love this newfound ‘compassion’ of yours,” he briefly glanced away, catching sight of a smaller person far from the argument occurring. Either Yenna was blissfully unaware or was doing a great job at pretending everything was okay. “I just wish you had acquired it earlier.” Then maybe they wouldn’t be stuck worrying about every little orphan who manipulated Tav’s kindness.

            “They’re adults, they can take care of themselves.” He raised an eyebrow at this. Was she really letting things go for once. “I’m tired and I want to sleep.” She wasn’t looking at him anymore, choosing to instead dig around into her bag that she never organized, even at his insistence.

            “Fair enough,” a level of trepidation lined his voice. Before he could ask if she was alright, a loud clang hit the floor behind him, silencing the bickering voices. He turned away instinctively, catching sight of Lae’zel stomping away towards the door. A dagger, no doubt previously aimed towards the other men, laid forgotten at Halsin’s feet.

            “Fine,” she spat, casting one last glance towards them before nearly kicking the door off its hinges. “Cowards, all of you.” With that, she was gone. Shadowheart moved a few steps, considering the possibility of going after her, before ultimately stopping. Even from her his spot, Astarion could see the way her jaw clenched, hands balled at her sides.

            The rest of them dispersed to their own spots in the room, silence hung in the air uncomfortably. Karlach’s, he noticed, took a moment to collect Lae’zel’s dagger. She rarely used such a small weapon in combat, opting for her painfully heavy sword and bow. The little thing glinted in the light briefly before the Tiefling went to place it neatly on Lae’zel’s bunk.

            Such a mess they were, he thought with a shake of his head.

. . .

            He tried not to stare too much at Tav. His own bed had been placed directly next to hers and it was becoming harder to ignore the way she shifted and squirmed under the covers. Sleep came easily to the girl, at least most of the time. Her experience with combat and adventuring was limited before the parasite, her body unuse to such strenuous work. She rarely complained, though. The only indicator that this was tough for her especially being how quickly she tuckered out at the end of the day.

            There was a chance that some of the chatter was keeping her up. The silence hadn’t lasted too long before Karlach, Shadowheart, and Jaheira set up some type of card game. They weren’t particularly loud, save for whenever Karlach gained the upper hand in the game. Gale had tried shushing her a couple of times before ultimately giving up. The book in his hands had eventually engrossed him enough to tune it all out.

            When moonlight began to seep through their windows, Tav snores still not filling the air, Astarion decided to forsake his own spot. Standing over her crumbled form brought back the memory of the first time he had attempted to drink her blood. The few nights before that had been increasingly painful as he watched her lie so sweetly under the stars. Over time she felt less like a person and more like a beautiful feast, all set out for him alone. It was a shock, looking back, how long he held out on partaking.

            Her reaction to noticing him looming over her this time around was much less frantic. A little bit of surprise played on her parted lips as she slowly sat up to speak. There was still a hint of innocence in her eyes whilst meeting his gaze. Scores of monsters and cultists had perished under her spells and blades and yet it didn’t jade her the way it would for other humans.

            So precious, he thought.

            “Is something wrong?” It came out as a whisper, her eyes glancing left to confirm that Wyll remained unmoving in his bunk.

            “I was actually just about to ask you that, darling.” He wasn’t as quiet as her, unafraid that the Blade of Frontiers would wake up easily. “You’ve been acting peculiarly since we got back, care to enlighten me?”

            “I told you I was tired,” she looked away. “It’s been a very long day.”

            “And yet you’ve been tossing and turning for nearly an hour.” He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling a little too much like a scolding parent than a partner.

            “I . . .” She trailed off, knees moving up to support her chest as she leaned forward. “There’s just a lot on my mind right now. Between the netherstones and Orpheus, it’s just overwhelming.”

            “Anything I can do to help,” the bed dipped as he took a seat. There was little space between the two of them now and a part of him buzzed pleasantly at the thought of pulling her into an embrace. They hadn’t been all that touchy as of late. His confession at Moonrise had practically halted most forms of intimacy between them. An outsider looking in wouldn’t have guessed how close the two of them were in comparison to the others. Feather light touches and the occasional hug made up most of the relationship now. Sometimes he would steal a kiss, a usually quick action that ended before Tav had much time to register the affection.

            They had on occasion shared a bedroll back when they were out in the wild. She’d curl up against his side, a hand resting on the part of his chest where his heart once beat. He’d count the constellations whilst listening to the change in her breathing, the obvious indicator that she had plunged into a deep sleep. There, hidden from Cazador and the absolute, a flutter would come and go underneath his ribs. Perhaps he wasn’t all that dead.

            “No, I’ll be okay.” She shook her head, hair rustling against the sides of her face. “Don’t worry about me, please.”

            “Easier said than done, my dear.” The little pout that appeared on her lips decided his next move for him. “Now, scout over.” Tav’s eyes widened, gaze snapping back up to his face. She was still for a few moments, studying his features with an intensity one might have for a major test.

            Little voices scrapped against the back of his mind as he exalted all his control in keeping a calm demeanor. Any doubt or uncertainty would have Tav pushing him away. She was always so concerned about his comfort. It was welcomed graciously most of the time but, as much as the sentiment warmed his icy body, it could also sting. He was not nearly as fragile as she seemed to think he was.

            She only puts up with you because she pities you.

            “O-Okay,” Astarion almost breathed out a sigh of relief when she complied with the request. He wasted no time in joining her under the covers, lest she change her mind at his reluctance.

            She was rigid against him, even after he comfortably adjusted against the mattress. Instead of holding him, like she used to, Tav rolled over so that her back was facing him instead. Both of her hands clenched the sheets rather than his clothes. It unnerved him even more than the silence that passed between him.

            “You know,” he whispered. “I was afraid that your droopy mood had something to do with vanquishing our old ‘friend’, Rapheal.” Acidity coated his pronunciation of the devil’s name. Tav’s body twitched when she heard it, somehow tensing even more than before.

            “I’m glad he’s dead,” disdain leaked from her mouth as she sought to relax her body. “I wish I had cut out his tongue earlier, though. I can still hear his stupid, dramatic voice in my head.”

            “Perhaps I can take your mind off of it?” The sly words fell out of Astarion’s mouth without him even having a chance to think it over. Flirtatiousness was an instinct after two centuries and getting rid of it wasn’t something easily undone. A heaviness set within his chest, an all too familiar panic that he may have gone too far. She shook in his grasp and that heaviness gave way to bitter bile. Swallowing it down with a cough, Astarion placed a hand on her shoulder. “Forgive me, I didn’t—”

            “It’s fine.” Her statement, spoken quicker than before, felt like a cut. “I’m not in the mood, anyways.”

            Not in the mood for you, at least.

            She thinks you’d break under her touch.

            Besides, why would she want you when she just had him.

            He inhaled sharply at the memory conjured up by the swirling voices. He would have kicked himself for carelessness had she not been lying next to him. Amid their quest within the House of Hope, Astarion had been able to push down their interaction with Rapheal’s favorite toy. Now, with her distant yet so close, he could no longer.

. . .

            “I beg your pardon,” the snap of Astarion’s voice rang within the chamber. The marble floor beneath his feet nearly crumbled under the stomp of his boots. A hand kept him from getting closer to the bed before them. “Would you like to repeat that little request?”

            “I said,” the incubus’ eyes looked only at Tav. “Take off your clothes.”

            “Uh, why?” Her voice bordered on cracking. It was her fingers that kept him from throwing a dagger between Haarlep���s eyes.

            “Do you or do you not want my help,” playfulness dripped from the incubus as he rolled softly against the covers of the mattress. “I at least deserve something from you, seeing as you’re asking for so much.”

            “And you’re asking for an arrow through the throat.” Astarion grumbled, fingers flexing and ready for Tav to give the orders to fight.

            “Hypothetically, what were to happen if I did take off my clothes.” His jaw clenched as the human woman spoke slowly.  

            “Well,” he drawled, lips curling in a cat like smirk. “Let’s just say it’s a surprise.”

            “A surprise from an incubus? I wonder what that could possibly be,” Astarion’s mocking voice did little to faze the other man.

            “No need to be so jealous, little spawn.” The grip on Astarion’s shoulder tightened, Tav accurately guessing how restraint was practically peeling away from him. “I have only the best of intentions in mind.”

            “Oh really—”

            “Gives a moment, if that’s okay.” Tav began to pull against him, trying to bring him back towards the group. Haarlep nodded his head which was answer enough for Tav to motion for the companions to form a huddle of sorts.

            “We’re killing him, right?” An unsureness plagued Tav’s face as she shied away from his intense gaze.

            “Honestly, taking up his offer might be the best option.” He made a point to glare at Shadowheart. She looked only at Tav though, not bothering with the pissy vampire. “As much as I want to avoid it, a fight with Rapheal is practically inevitable at this point. Especially if we go through with freeing Hope. I’d rather we save up our resources for that fight instead of wasting it on him.” She motioned towards the incubus with a jerk of her chin.

            “If it were me, I’d rather gut him.” Lae’zel chimed in before Astarion could retort. “But I am not the one he is asking for.” Her gaze fell to Tav.

            “I’m completely fine with ripping his annoying face off,” Karlach glanced back at the Rapheal look-a-like. “But yeah, it’s up to you soldier.”

            “I mean,” the human’s face contorted as pros and cons weighed back and forth within her mind. “If we go against him, who knows what other cronies he’d bring into the fight. Plus, it can make it that much harder to get back to the hammer in time.”

            She wants to say yes to him, the offer is rather tempting.

            “Exactly, I say we get the hammer first with as little complications as possible.” Very few times had Shadowheart’s neck looked so perfectly ready to be ripped out in Astarion’s eyes.

            “Why don’t you take her place, if the choice is so easy.” She rolled her eyes at him.

            “I don’t see why not,” her lips curled up in a bitter smirk. “I’m sure he’s all sorts of fun.”

            “Such a tempting offer,” Haarlep’s voice broke into the group. Apparently, the huddle was pointless if he could hear everything from his side of the room. “But I have my sights set on your little leader. She’s stirred up Rapheal quite a bit with how passionately she denied his deal.”

            “Pity,” the former Sharran mumbled.

            “Now if you lot are somehow able to survive this little trip, I’d be more than happy to pencil you in for a play date, half-elf.” A silent chuckle left Shadowheart’s lips as she shook her head. Astarion couldn’t tell if she’d be against such an offer in the future.

            “Fight or Fornicate, make up your mind before we’re out of choices.” Lae’zel turned back to Tav as the human seemed even more indecisive than before.

            “I . . .” Her eyes met his then, as the rest of the group waited in bated breath for an answer. They stared at each other as each passing second felt even slower than the last.

            She wants your permission.

            You’ve left her longing for too long.

            The answer to her needs is practically begging to relieve her.

            He could do so, so much more for her.

            She’s tired of waiting for you to get a grip. So tired of holding your pathetic hand.

            I’d be cruel to deny her such an experience.

            “. . . It’s up to you, my love.” Throwing the façade of acceptance on his face wasn’t too hard to do. He had done it so many times before, he had practically become a master of it at this point. “I won’t hold it against you, whatever you decide.”

            She was quiet, facing smoothing at as her decision was made within her mind. She turned back to Haarlep first, prompting the others to do the same. Astarion, though, kept most of his attention on her and not the creature he wanted to eviscerate.

            Something inside him shattered as her lithe fingers went to the hem of her shirt. The realization that she was about to disrobe in front of Haarlep and their friends hit him like a pommel strike. The voices in his head were twisting wildly within his mind and somehow, throughout the horror of it all, he found himself bitterly thankful for Tav’s choice in today’s team.

            It was no secret that all their companions had, at one point, made a pass at Tav. Her rejection of them always had a sliver of satisfaction rolling up his spine. In Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel’s case, they had taken her no rather well. It was easy enough for the later two who had begun ‘sparring’ away from the eyes of the camp sometime after their interaction with the creche. Their excuse was that they needed more space to fight and that they didn’t want to ‘accidentally’ hurt someone during the intense training.  

            Hate sex is the best sex, Tav had muttered one night as she and Astarion caught the two women glaring at each other whilst walking off into the woods. He had curled his lips at the scandalous statement, deciding silently to remember the tidbit for a possible future tryst.

            Karlach, Astarion realized, was just happy to have the embrace of a friend. Romance had been easily forgotten by the Tiefling. The same couldn’t be said for Gale and Wyll. They had assured her that it was alright before and Tav had taken it at face value. Astarion knew better though, could see it in the way their eyes followed her. When she spoke, they would glance at her lips and look away as if caught with their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. The vampire spawn sometimes basked in the longing he could see within them every time he displayed even the smallest of Tav’s reciprocated affections.

            “Could you all go guard the door,” snapping out his trance, Astarion watched as Tav put a pause on removing her clothes. “The last thing we need is Rapheal waltzing in.”

            “Of course,” Shadowheart was the first to comply. Lae’zel quirked an eyebrow for a moment before leaving as well. He could feel Karlach looking back and forth between him and Tav. Reluctantly she placed a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to walk away with her. Though her engine had been fixed, her palm was practically scalding against the thin fabric of his disguise.

            “We’re just across the room,” he murmured. “In case you need us.”

            With a nod of Tav’s head, Astarion finally complied with Karlach’s touch. The two turned around to trail after the other members of their party. He focused on the echo of the grand faucets flowing hot water into the pool between them. Anything to keep from catching the sound of whatever surprise the incubus had in mind.

            “You okay?” Astarion growled lowly at the question. He knew that Karlach’s concern was genuine, deep down, yet he couldn’t help but feel only irritation.

            “Of course I am.” He sneered; he wasn’t the one stuck staring at Rapheal’s stupid face. He considered telling them to not talk to him, as he was in no mood. Yet the little chatter that passed between the other three was something to hold onto. Very little went by the doorway of the boudoir, just a couple of miserable waifs limping about. A wonderful reminder of what might happen to them sooner rather than later.

            “—Must we waste time freeing her.”

            “Are you suggesting we leave Hope chained to this asshole.” He didn’t want to look behind him to watch their argument.

            “The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to join her.” Shadowheart’s voice was farthest away. A little too far for his liking, more likely to see what was happening past the pool.

            It must be quite a show, maybe she’ll tell you all the gory details later.

            Or maybe Tav will, how long will it be before his name passes those luscious lips.

            She won’t want you after this.

            What’s the point of a pretty face when that’s all it is. She’ll get sick of looking at it when she realizes she could have more.

            He didn’t know how much time had passed when Shadowheart’s voice cut through the mess in his head.

            “It looks like they’ve stopped,” gods he was going to throw up. “Come on.”

            Luckily the half-elf was correct. By the time the four of them had come to the other end of the room, Haarlep was already off the bed and looking starkly different from before. Instead of the near perfect imitation of Rapheal, he had shifted into a woman. An improvement, yes, but still too like the devil in looks. Tav was shimmying her shirt back on, something black and tight coverd the rest of her body. She hadn’t worn it before.

            Haarlep, noticing their return, locked eyes with him particularly. The ends of his lips twisted higher than they had before. In the blink of an eye the new feminine form shifted into something all too familiar. Instead of the Rapheal look alike, a copy of Tav now smirked at him.

            To his utter displeasure, the incubus was gone before the shock could lift. Tav didn’t waste time in collecting the contents of the safe. The portrait of Rapheal broke in half under her hands as she pried it off the wall. It was tossed unceremoniously across the floor. If only they had time to destroy more of the devil’s tacky décor.

            “Let’s go,” Tav was striding past them. Determination set within the crease of her forehead. There were questions on the tongue of each one of them. Ultimately their curiosity was left unspoken.

[moonselune]

Best intending fools

Teacher!Minthara x Obsessed!Student AU

Modern AU

Set a bit further on in the relationship, can be read as a part 3 to these parts: part one , part two, part four

CW: Teeny weeny bit of angst hehe

⋆.˚✰ Minthara ⋆.˚✰ <- Masterlist

The conference room was bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights, casting a clinical brightness over the assembled staff. Minthara sat near the end of the table, a pencil in hand, tapping it rhythmically against her notepad. She was mentally reviewing the next phase of her research project, barely paying attention to the mundane discussions around her.

Gale, the head of staff, stood at the front, his presence commanding the room. He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Before we conclude today's meeting, I have an important announcement regarding our faculty for the upcoming semester."

Minthara barely glanced up, her mind still elsewhere.

"We are pleased to welcome a new professor who will be teaching anatomy," Gale continued. "Dr. Orin Dered."

The name hit Minthara like a physical blow. The pencil in her hand snapped with a sharp crack, the sound startling those around her. Her eyes narrowed, and she shot a piercing glare at Gale.

"This is unacceptable," she said, her voice low and filled with barely contained fury.

Gale sighed, clearly anticipating her reaction. "Minthara, I understand your concerns, but Dr. Dered is one of the leading experts in anatomy. Our students deserve the best education we can provide."

The rest of the staff exchanged uneasy glances. They were well aware of the tumultuous history between Minthara and Orin. Once close-knit research partners, now intense rivals.

Minthara stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You don't understand," she hissed. "Orin is a manipulative, self-serving—"

"Enough, Minthara," Gale interrupted, his tone firm. "This decision is final. Orin's expertise will greatly benefit our students, and we are fortunate to have her."

The tension in the room was palpable. Minthara's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. She stared Gale down, her eyes blazing with anger. "You have no idea what you're doing," she spat. "Orin's presence here will be a disaster."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her with a resounding bang. The remaining staff sat in stunned silence, the atmosphere thick with unease.

Alfira, always the empathetic one, started to rise from her seat. "Maybe I should go after her…"

Rolan, sitting beside her, grabbed her arm and yanked her back down. "Are you out of your mind?" he whispered urgently. "Do you have a death wish? Let her cool off."

Alfira looked torn but reluctantly nodded, staying in her seat. The meeting resumed, but the energy in the room had shifted, a heavy sense of foreboding hanging over the staff.

Meanwhile, Minthara strode down the hallway, her mind racing. She needed to calm down, to think. But the mere thought of Orin being back in her life, even professionally, was enough to send her into a tailspin. She headed towards her office, desperate for the solitude and sanctuary it provided, her mind already strategizing how to handle this unexpected and unwelcome development.

A few days later you had been wandering the hallways, a lightness in your step, excited about the news you had heard. Orin Dered, the renowned expert in anatomy, was joining the faculty for a semester. The whispers about her expertise and groundbreaking research had always intrigued you, and now you had the chance to learn from her directly.

You made your way to Minthara's office, eager to share your excitement. Her door was slightly ajar, and you could see her sitting at her desk, a stormy expression on her face. You knocked softly and entered, a smile on your lips.

"Minthara, did you hear? Orin Dered is going to be teaching here next semester!" you exclaimed, not noticing the dark cloud that seemed to hang over her.

Minthara's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours. "I heard," she said coldly, her tone sending a shiver down your spine.

You paused, confused by her reaction. "I thought you'd be happy for me. I mean, you and Orin worked closely together before, right? This is such a great opportunity for me to learn from one of the best."

Minthara stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "You will not take her class," she snapped, her voice icy.

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. "What? Why not? This is a huge chance for my education. I can't pass it up just because there's some bad blood between you two."

Minthara's eyes flashed with anger, and she took a step towards you. "I'm forbidding it. If you take Orin's class, then this—us—is over."

Her words hit you like a physical blow. You stood there, stunned, your heart aching with confusion and hurt. You knew they were rivals but you thought Minthara cared for you more than some petty rivalry. "Minthara, that's not fair. You can't just control my education like this. I know there's history between you and Orin, but this is my future we're talking about."

Minthara's expression hardened, her jaw clenched tightly. "I said no. If you enroll in her class, consider our relationship finished."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away from her, unable to comprehend why she was being so irrational. "I can't believe you're doing this," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I thought you cared about me."

With that, you walked out of her office, the door closing behind you with a finality that echoed through your heart. You could feel the weight of her gaze on your back, but you didn't look back. The hurt and confusion swirling inside you were too much to bear.

Minthara slumped back into her chair, her head in her hands. She had never wanted to hurt you, but the thought of Orin manipulating and hurting you the way she had been hurt was unbearable. She couldn't explain it to you without revealing too much, and now she was left with the pain of knowing she had pushed you away.

The next few days were a blur of mixed emotions. You spent most of your time sulking in your dorm room, replaying the argument with Minthara in your mind. Her words had cut deep, and you were struggling to understand why she would react so harshly. Despite your frustration, you couldn’t bring yourself to enroll in Orin's class. The fear of losing Minthara, of severing the bond you had with her, was too great. You loved her, adored her.

One afternoon, as you were leaving Professor Dekarios' lecture, he approached you. "Hey, can I have a word?" he asked, his tone gentle.

You nodded, feeling a twinge of curiosity. Professor Dekarios was always perceptive, and it seemed he had noticed your recent change in demeanor.

"I couldn't help but notice that you're not enrolled in Dr. Dered's anatomy class," he began, his eyes searching your face. "I thought it would be a perfect fit for you, given your interests and potential."

You sighed, glancing away. "It's complicated," you mumbled.

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. "I know Minthara has been mentoring you closely, and I can imagine that might be influencing your decision. She can be quite... intense."

You let out a bitter laugh. "That's one way to put it."

Professor Dekarios leaned against the desk, his demeanor casual yet concerned. "Listen, I don’t know all the details of your relationship with her, but I do know that this is an important opportunity for you. If you’re worried about Minthara's reaction, I could arrange a private meeting between you and Dr. Dered. It would be off the record, and Minthara wouldn't need to know."

Your heart raced at the suggestion. A private meeting with Orin could be a way to explore your interest without openly defying Minthara. "You really think that could work?" you asked, hope creeping into your voice.

He smiled reassuringly. "Absolutely. Orin is here to teach and share her knowledge. I doubt she'd pass up the chance to mentor a promising student like you. And if we keep it discreet, Minthara won't have to know."

You hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks. But the prospect of learning from Orin was too enticing to ignore. "Okay," you agreed. "Let's do it. A meeting can't hurt."

Professor Dekarios nodded, satisfied. "I'll set it up. Just trust me, this could be a great opportunity for you."

You sat nervously outside of Dr Dered's office, you knew that it was wrong, what you were doing. But if Minthara had thought her harsh words had deterred you it had only spurred you on. You wanted to experience Orin yourself, learn from her yourself. You loved Minthara, you would kiss the ground she walked on if she asked you to, you would kill for her, you would die for her. But your education was paramount, and you understood what Minthara was asking of you, you couldn't understand why. That was what mattered, because you knew why you worshipped Minthara, you didn't know why Minthara didn't want you to be taught by Orin. Not knowing was dangerous, because not knowing meant that you needed to find out.

"Y/N L/N?" Orin called out as she opened her new office door, it was thankfully on the other side of the complex so you had no chance of Minthara walking past. Plus Professor Dekarios had promised that he would be in a meeting with her at this time. Orin was a pale woman, and had long blonde hair that was messily put away in a plait. She wore a striking blood red pantsuit, accompanied with a pair of sandals - it was like she wasn't wearing any shoes at all. Minthara would never have been caught dead in shoes like that but you assumed that due to her work she preferred to remain grounded, if you examined and pulled apart bodies all day you would want to stay grounded too.

You stood up and gave an awkward wave before walking into Orin's office, it was surrounded in packed up boxes but she had a realistic anatomically correct human body hung up, with removable organs included.

"Thank you so much for seeing me, Dr Dered," You nervously said, fidgeting with your hands.

"Oh my little fleshing, call me Orin, with what I deal with I prefer to deal with my students on a more intimate level." Orin told you giving you a wicked smile. You tried not to panic at the endearment she had addressed you with, she was known for her eclecticism. "Professor Dekarios tells me you are a student excelling in your classes, so I cannot help but wonder why not mine?"

"Oh um, my schedule just didn't allow it, which is why Professor Dekarios so kindly-'

"-Professor Dekarios did say that but I checked for myself and your schedule fully allows you to take my class." Orin interrupted you and leaned across her desk towards you. "So I cannot help but wonder if this has anything to do with Dr Baenre."

"D-Dr Baenre?" You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassment of being immediately caught out in your lie. "Why would Dr Baenre have anything to do with it?"

"It is clear she had laid her claim on your academic prowess and does not plan on letting you go." Orin smirked at you as she propped her feet up on the desk. "Looking at the work you have submitted and your academic record I can understand why, you are an extremely talented young woman Y/N."

"I-uh- thank you, I uh don't actually hear that a lot.." You murmured and it was true, Minthara knew of your brilliance so didn't feel the need to comment on it.

"And what a pitiful shame that is." Orin pouted, sitting up in her chair and clasping her hands together. "But you have made-"

Before Orin could finish her sentence her office door swung open, and a fuming Minthara stood in her doorway. You felt yourself shrink into yourself as you were victim to her wrathful glare .

"L/N. Out. Now. Dr Dered and I have some urgent matters to discuss." Minthara seethed and you quickly gathered your things, unable to meet her eye. Though before you walked past her you took a deep breath in, you did this for you, for your benefit. You were not to be ashamed of that. So as you walked past her, you met her eye, proudly, defiantly.

The door slammed behind you and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You walked past a very apologetic looking Professor Dekarios who's plans had clearly backfired. Then you had a decision, you could go back to your dorm or back to Minthara's office. Your head told you to go back to your dorm room, yet your heart urged you to go to Minthara's office. You had let your head dictate your actions that day, it was time for the heart to take control.

“What exactly do you think you are doing, Orin?!” Minthara snapped, her voice trembling with barely controlled anger. “Not only here, but with my top student?”

Orin leaned casually against the desk, her expression a mixture of amusement and condescension. “Oh, Minthara, my love, I missed you too...” she cooed, stepping forward with her arms outstretched, as if expecting a warm embrace.

Minthara scoffed and took a step back, glaring at Orin with disdain. “Don’t come any closer,” she hissed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Orin’s arms dropped, but she maintained her cool smile. “Still as cold as ever, my dear,” she remarked, her tone dripping with false sweetness.

Minthara’s patience was wearing thin. “What do you want, Orin?” she spat, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Ignoring the question, Orin turned her attention to the papers on Minthara’s desk, idly flipping through them. “I can see why you like her,” she said, her voice taking on a contemplative tone. “She’s got a brilliant mind.”

Minthara tensed at the mention of you, her jaw clenching in anger. She hated that Orin even knew your name, let alone took an interest in you. “What I would do to crack it open and slice it bit by bit for examination,” Orin continued, her voice low and almost wistful. “To feel her brain on my fingertips.”

“You are disgusting, you know that, don’t you?” Minthara scoffed, rolling her eyes in a vain attempt to hide her unease.

Orin chuckled softly. “And you’ve become sentimental,” she countered, her gaze flicking back to Minthara. “Though, as toys go, you have managed to acquire yourself such a beautiful one. I can’t wait until you inevitably throw her out of your pram.”

That was the final straw. Minthara surged forward, grabbing Orin by the lapels of her blazer and yanking her close. “Y/N is not a toy. Do you understand that?” she snarled, her face inches from Orin’s. “She is more humane than you will ever be. Speak to her again, and I will rip your tongue out.”

Orin’s eyes glittered with a perverse delight. “Ooh, Minthara, you’ve grown soft—”

Minthara released her grip and shoved Orin back, the force of the push causing Orin to stumble slightly. “I don’t even know why I waste my time with you,” Minthara said, her voice cold and final.

Orin straightened her blazer, her cool smile never faltering. “Because, my dear Minthara, deep down, you know you’ll always be drawn back to me.”

Minthara didn’t dignify that with a response. She turned on her heel and walked out of the office, her heart pounding with a mixture of rage and protectiveness. Orin might be back in her life, but Minthara was determined to shield you from her at any cost.

Mwhahahahaha I simply could not resist, Orin was right there begging to be included in this AU. Gale only wants the best for his students yet fucks it up every time. What are your thoughts? Why do we think Orin is really here? - Seluney xoxo

[nerdallwritey]

Wip Wednesday!

I was tagged by @khywren!! Thank you!!!!!

Part 3 of Beauty and the Bard is FINISHED, but my beta is currently the busiest woman in the world (she's getting mawwied 🤭) so it'll take a few more days until I officially post, but here's a bit of banter to make up for it! Find it below the cut:

“Oh, stop teasing her,” Alfira said, rolling her eyes. “Tell her how well she did and make her take my lute.” She held it out again.

“While yes, she did play wonderfully-”

You looked at Astarion, a little shocked. You weren’t sure he’d ever complimented your music before.

“-she won’t be needing the lute.”

“See,” you said to Alfira before pausing for a moment and turning back to Astarion. “I won’t?”

He shook his head at you. “It’s taken care of already,” he said to Alfira. 

She understood what he was saying and nodded. “How very kind of you,” she said, smiling. She reached forward and squeezed your hand. “I’ll make sure to see you again before we leave.” 

You nodded and smiled as she left to join Lakrissa again at the wine table.

You turned to Astarion who looked smug. He turned to face you and grinned.

“What was that?” you asked.

“What was what, darling?”

“With Alfira. ‘It’s taken care of already.’ Did you steal me a lute or something?”

Astarion brought his goblet to his lips, ignoring you.

You gasped, your mouth open in faux horror. “You did not.”

“And if I did?”

“Where?”

He groaned. “Enough questions. Come enjoy a drink with me.”

He took your hand and led you over to his tent. When you arrived, he dropped your hand and held up his cup for you to clink with his. He took a sip. 

“You know, I never pictured myself as a hero.”

You snorted. “Bold of you to assume that’s what you are.”

He rolled his eyes and continued. “Never thought I’d be the one they toast for saving so many lives. And now that I’m here…”

He held you in suspense as he took another drink of his wine. 

When he pulled the cup away, he scowled. “I hate it. This is awful.” 

“Aw,” you said, walking forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before pulling back a little. “Is this okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded.

You continued. “It’s not that bad. Think of all the goblins you killed.”

“True,” he agreed. “That was fun. Still, I would have liked more than a pat on the head and vinegar for wine.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “I’m sorry, weren’t you the one who curated the wine?”

“Yes, but it’s not like I had much variety to choose from. Plus the tieflings didn’t bring anything to write home about.” He cocked his hip to the side, then nodded to you. “Go ahead, give it a taste.”

You stepped back and swirled the wine in the goblet that Astarion had provided for you. You took a tentative sip of the heavy, rich red. It was dry and sharp. To be honest, it tasted like most other reds you’d had before.

Astarion leaned forward a bit to gauge your reaction. “See what I mean? Awful.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Why didn’t you pick a better one, then?”

“Darling, this is the best they had.” 

“How sad,” you sighed, clearly not as upset as he hoped you’d be.

He held up a hand and turned away from you. “None of you have any taste.” 

“I’m sorry, my love,” you brushed some hair out of his face. “You’ll have to share once you find something you actually like. That way I’ll know what to look for.”

He sighed heavily. “What would be the point? You probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“Rude,” you scoffed. “But fair.” You looked at him thoughtfully. “Hang on, weren’t you and Karlach trying to get drunk?”

Astarion giggled stupidly. “Yes.”

You snorted. “How’d that go?”

“Fine,” he sighed. “Takes me a lot longer to get drunk. What with the dead liver and all.”

You furrowed your brow. “Wouldn’t lacking a working liver make you drunk immediately?”

Astarion whined, “I don’t know, but Karlach is completely inebriated and I only have a buzz I can already feel fading.”

You looked over to Karlach who was still dancing despite the fact that you and Alfira had finished your performance several minutes ago. She was trying to get Dammon and Zevlor to join her but both looked like they were searching for escape routes. 

You laughed. “Shame there’s no music to accompany her,” you said, half joking.

“An excellent point, my dear.” He turned to bend down, wobbling, but catching himself. He started rifling through his possessions. “Odd,” he mumbled, “I swore it was here.”

“What are you looking for?” you asked.

“Hmm?” He was clearly lost in thought. “Oh nothing, darling. But, um, do me a favor and go somewhere else for a minute.” He waved you away without looking at you.

[chattersstuff]

PLEASE LARIAN I WANNA ROMANCE ALFIRA AND ROLAN SO BAD IM DYING😭

SIGN THE PETITION ROMANCE THE TEIFLINGS!!

https://chng.it/B7SWn9hrwt

[feyascorner]

3 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. You hate him, you think. You want to hate him, at the very least.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke."

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard, large chunks of italicized texts are flashbacks

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. redemption arc is coming i swear :) this is a whopping 4.7k i got kinda carried away but oh well,, Thank you so much for your comments on these they make my day and i appreciate each one<3

Dance upon the stars tonight

Smile and pain will fade away

“And what might our dear bard be working so passionately on?”

You look up from your notebook, ceasing the messy scribbling of lyrics into its tattered pages. Astarion perches himself beside you, the flames of the campfire flickering in the reflection of his eyes as you stop humming and raise a cautious brow. A vampire spawn. You’d never seen one in person–-only had you heard of them in your childhood tales of the spawn that would sweep away naughty children if they didn’t finish their vegetables. Up close, you can almost see his fangs protruding from the grin he's constantly wearing.

You wonder if it’s a genuine one.

“That bard at the grove today,” you recall. “Alfira? I’m trying to finish the lyrics and write them out for her.”

“Is that so? Surely you’re receiving some sort of payment for these gracious services?”

You train your eyes back onto the pages, shaking your head. “I’m doing this for fun. Her song is beautiful. It just needs—” you squint. “--adjustment.”

He laughs, and you can see the fangs clearly now. They’re sharper than you expected them to be. “I believe that’s a drastic understatement, my dear. My heart felt for those poor squirrels. I’m quite willing to bet that they have an aversion to bards now.”

“And you’re suddenly a musician yourself?”

“It doesn’t take a musician to recognize poor singing, darling Tav,” he returns. “And considering I’ve spent the past few days listening to your music, I’m sure you’ll understand why I considered it such an abomination.”

You narrow your eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me–or my music.”

“You? I'm still deciding,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes. “But I must say that I’m growing rather fond of that lyre of yours. Have you had it for long?”

You give him a sidelong glance before answering slowly. “I’ve had it for ages. Practically when I just started.”

“Explains itself then, I suppose.”

“And you?” you watch as he leans back on his palms. “Do you have any other talents to offer to our companions, or is it just your teeth?”

“Now, don’t be so cruel, dear,” he smiles wider. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re rather fond of them as well. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you staring all the time.”

“I’m on guard,” you clarify.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You’re not sure if you can sleep with one eye open, much less both of them closed. You’re not sure if you trust him at all, either, but as he stares up at the starry sky, simply listening to the crackling of the campfire, you decide you’d rather save yourself the energy for what awaits tomorrow.

“Why did you do that earlier?” you find yourself asking, and he replies by glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“Do what?”

“Save Wyll from that goblin arrow,” you mumble. “I thought you didn't care about any of us.”

“And what gives you that impression?”

You deadpan, staring at him with lidded eyes and he laughs out loud. It sounds more genuine than anything else he’s offered so far. It's nice.

“It’s a simple transaction, dear. One where I receive protection in turn for the occasional aid I can give with my own blade.”

You squint at him, but you see no signs of deception. So instead, you simply nod and resume scribbling into your notebook, softly humming to yourself alongside the lyrics. And when you halt, stuck on a particular lyric that you can’t seem to remember, you hear him shift, standing himself back up to retreat to his tent.

“Something about faith and care comes next if my memory serves,” is all he says before striding away. While you watch him in confusion, you click your tongue and try to focus again. And when you look down at your page, you remember the rest of the words.

Somehow, you feel the corners of your lips lift.

“As much as I’d love for this to be a charming, long-awaited reunion, one of the parties imposes a danger to the other.”

You wince at the sarcasm dripping from Gale’s voice. Duke Ravengard’s expression remains solemn, unmoving like a stone, while your companion pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “We can’t harbor a vampire spawn in our home. We’re supposed to be finding them, not keeping them!”

You hate the irony of the statement because the camp you’d spent so many months in with an uninvited guest in your head, had also been your home. One where you spent your nights in a vampire spawn’s tent. It’s not so different, you keep telling yourself. But you’re painfully aware that the Duke only knows a sugar-coated version of the falling out between you and said vampire. He doesn’t know how his son had to tear Astarion away from you and how your voice had been sore for weeks afterward.

“As much as I have my own opinions with allying with a vampire spawn,” the Duke stares at Astarion warningly. “Wyll did say this spawn saved his life while your party ventured together. For that, I'm willing to see reason if he’s cooperative, rather than restrain him with the Fists.”

You never thought much of it until now. With how many life threatening experiences you and your companions had come across, it felt natural to save one another. At first, it had been out of necessity—fear that one person would turn into an illithid. Yet, with time, you'd all grown fond of each other, one way or another.

You think back to when Astarion had saved Wyll and wonder if that part of him is still in there. Maybe it was never there at all. Maybe it had been another one of his manipulation tactics that you're so prone to falling for.

Gods, you're hopeless.

The wizard standing beside you sighs irritably. “But that was before he tried to squeeze the life out of-”

“How long do we need to keep him?”

Gale balks at your words. “You can’t seriously be considering this.”

“Just until we’re able to locate the rest of the spawns spread throughout the city, which you kindly decided not to mention in our last conversation.”

You shoot Gale a glare, silently questioning if he’d been the one to confess the existence of the spawns underground, but he’s too busy scanning over Astarion, who’s mindlessly fidgeting with his knife. The said spawn seems to feel your gaze, because he glances at you, then grins.

The bastard is smiling.

“The man you killed this morning is a spawn himself, yes?” the Duke clarifies. “There have been numerous reports the past few days about strange figures with fangs throughout the city—I’d known they’d existed, but to the numbers that are being reported…”

“You couldn’t have possibly believed myself to be the only spawn around?” Astarion laughs bitterly. “I do not wish to go hungry, Duke, but I don’t need nearly as many bodies that’s been showing up—assuming that I did drink from anyone, of course.”

Ravengard ignores him, speaking as if he’s not there. “I could still have him detained if that is what you wish. We can continue as we have and search for the spawn without his help.”

You know it’s a fruitless effort if last night has told you anything.

“You don’t even have evidence that I drank from a single person in this entire bloody city!” Astarion spits back, rolling his neck in exasperation.

“No,” you purse your lips, finally looking up. “I’ll be responsible for him.”

Gale clears his throat alarmingly. “Now, dear leader, let’s have a private conversation before we make any hasty decisions, yes? Surely, we don’t have to decide right this moment.”

And while you open your mouth to respond that no, you won’t have Astarion rot away in some gross cell, the Duke nods. “Very well.”

Gale pushes you to the corner of the room, with his face clearly paling in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking. You want someone who nearly strangled you to death sleeping in the room next to yours?”

“Ravengard wants us to find out where the other spawn are hiding, and the only lead we have is sitting right there,” you defend yourself. “Throwing Astarion into a dirty cell won’t do anything to convince him to help us.”

“The Duke doesn’t know what he did to you!”

“He doesn’t need to. Astarion’s made it very clear he’s not going to spill any information if the Duke is the one asking, and we need a lead. I nearly died last night, Gale. I want to avoid that if I can.”

His eyes soften just a bit, but it’s enough. With a loud sigh, he scrunches his nose. “And you’re sure you’re not doing this for more personal reasons?”

At this, you pause. Your eyes waver, and the look Gale gives you is almost soul-crushing if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you’ve already hit rock bottom. You know this is not a good idea. You know that being so close to him again after so many months is not a good idea, especially when you’ve just finally begun your journey to forget him.

You curse the gods above for your luck.

The silence prompts Gale to speak. “I’ll tell the Duke we can’t involve ourselves in this.”

“Gale,” your voice almost cracks. “Please.”

He doesn’t want to agree, you can tell. Any sane person wouldn’t invite a bloodthirsty vampire spawn who’s willing to use his own hands to kill his so-called lover into their home. You want to think that you’re void of bias, but you know it’s a pathetic attempt to reassure yourself. Still, the expression on your face must be quite the sight because Gale takes one look, glances at Astarion, then slumps his shoulders. You’ve won.

You hadn’t even realized the door had been swung open, where your other companions had been standing, taking one look at Astarion then to you. While Gale wallows in his own defeat, you turn to the others, eyes glimmering with a kind of hope that they haven’t seen in months.

“Your judgment’s gotten us this far,” Shadowheart sighs. “We’d be fools not to trust it now.”

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “My blade is ready to slit his throat if need be. Just command me, and I shall.”

“We aren’t going to try to kill him," you retort.

“It’s only right to return the favor."

Dinner is awkward. You’re finally getting to try Gale’s stew, but it’s hard to focus on the taste when all you can feel is the searing stare of the person sitting across from you. He only has a goblet of crimson liquid in the same shade as his eyes in front of him, and it remains untouched as he takes in the rest of the house.

“So,” Gale offers. “What have you been up to?”

It’s not much, but it’s better than sitting in complete silence.

“Wandering the streets at night, mostly. Oh, and murdering half the city, apparently,” Astarion lets out his usual high-pitched laugh at the end, and your fingers tighten around your spoon. Shadowheart glares at him through her lashes, and you think she may lunge at him any second. You want to think you wouldn't stop her.

You feel for her, really. Being the group’s cleric comes with its advantages but also with the unspoken burden of watching your companions in pain. She’d been the one to ensure Astarion hadn’t left long-lasting damage to your throat. She’d been the one to soothe your headaches and cast a sleeping spell on you in hopes it’ll allow you to rest longer than just a few hours. She’d also seen you nearly bleed out multiple times, one of which occurred mere hours ago.

The sudden scrape of Lae’zel’s chair being pushed back catches your attention. She stands, lifting her bowl with her. “The air here is suffocating. Sort out your differences before I sort them out for you.”

The rest of you collectively nod. She doesn’t say anything else before leaving the room.

“The room at the end of the hallway upstairs is yours,” Shadowheart says finally. “Don’t bother me if you need anything else.”

She stands up as well, leaving her bowl in the sink before pacing up the stairs to her own quarters.

Somehow, the atmosphere is even worse now. You don’t dare lift your eyes from your stew, and you honestly hope it explodes before you have to sit here and drink all of it in this silence. Gale, thankfully, does not leave. Instead, he sets down his utensil.

“I suggest we have a set of rules in place–for the sake of everyone occupying this home,” he clears his throat. You shoot him a questioning look, which he dusts off.

“Fine,” Astarion leans back in his chair, now swirling the goblet of blood in his hand. “What do you have in mind?”

“No drinking. From anyone here.”

You blink a few times, then hear Astarion hum in acknowledgment. “Shame. Though your blood was vile anyway.”

“And don’t cause any trouble. One of us will go with you when you need to drink, so you can hunt for whatever animal you prefer these days. Otherwise, unless we say so, you’ll remain here.”

“Why, this sounds almost identical to a prison. Looking for a job as a warden, Gale? A midlife crisis, perhaps. Does wizard life not suit you anymore?”

“It suits me plenty, thanks,” Gale snorts. “We’ll be out during the day to rebuild the city, so you’ll have to entertain yourself in your own room. Don’t touch anything—especially my stuff.”

Astarion grins. “That almost sounds like an invitation.”

The wizard then turns to you. “And you? Do you have any other rules you’d like to add?”

You finally lift your head from the stew, looking back and forth between the two before shaking your head while pushing your chair back. For someone who’d imagined aimlessly for months about seeing your former lover again, you can’t seem to look him in the eye for fear of what you might feel. “I’m going out.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.”

Wordlessly, you pace toward the door, refusing to look back to suppress the urge to sprint back into his arms. You don’t know what you were thinking just a few hours ago, but this was not going to end well. If you couldn’t manage a simple dinner sitting across from him, what could you manage?

You’re in such a rush that you forget to bring anything besides your wallet.

By the time you’re on your way back to the house hours later, you have a backpack shoved full of fabrics with nails and a hammer to go along with it. As you pass by the taverns, you hear music playing from inside, alongside a few cheers and what you can only assume to be a crash of chairs as people applaud. 

You can’t help but peer through the window as you walk past, where a bard merrily plays on his drum, lightening the mood of the entire tavern—even the bartender smiles along as he plays tunes you’ve heard a million times before. And while your hands itch for a lyre—to feel the string snap against your fingertips—you know no good will come of it. You’ll only sit before the instrument, your hands unable to find the emotions to exert in the form of notes. 

As you stare at the bard, you remind yourself you’ve long given up on that kind of life.

So instead, you continue your way to the Highberry’s home. When you knock on the door, a very weary Cora Highberry greets you with bags under her eyes, but a calm smile still stretching on her lips nonetheless. She steps out of the way, inviting you in, and you do so.

“You didn’t have to, dear,” she says as she takes a bag of the city’s finest fruits from your hands. “The neighbors have been oh so gracious to us. They’re helping the children so much, I couldn’t possibly ask for more.”

“I was just passing by, that’s all,” you offer. “I wanted to check on you since I left a bit abruptly last time.”

“Oh, dear, you know how to make a woman feel special. It’s been terrible, really. I haven’t gone so long with my husband in ages…” she laughs, wiping at her swollen eyes. “But we were an old couple anyways…I had some time to prepare my emotions. I just didn’t think he’d go like that.”

You nod as she hands you a mug of hot tea. “But never mind that. I’ve spent the past two weeks talking about nothing but myself, so I’m quite tired. What about you, dear?”

“Me?”

“You look like death themselves,” she frowns. “I’ve lived for quite long…I recognize that heartbroken face anywhere. Has something happened?”

The way she’s staring at you—it’s different than pity. You can’t quite identify it, but she smiles again. It’s not the kind of smile most people give you—not one of anticpation, not one of gratefulness, but just a regular, old smile. And it makes your shoulders untense just the slightest before they tense again. You take a swig of the tea, nearly burning your throat in the process as you set the mug down, splitting a pathetic smile. “No, I’m okay. Just--tired.”

Very, very tired. Not physically, no, but tired of the indecisiveness that is your heart.

Her face falls softly. “How troubling it must be to have the weight of the city on your shoulders."

Before you can answer, there’s a loud thud upstairs. She notices your alarm and shakes her head. “Ah, must be Berry. She’s one of the younger children, and she’s been taking my husband’s death quite hard. Please excuse me, dear. I need to go put her back to sleep.”

And with that, you’re left alone on the first floor of the building again. You contemplate staying to say your farewells but the cries from upstairs convince you otherwise. Taking one last swig from the mug, you gather your things and leave.

When you get back home, it’s well into the night, an hour or two after midnight, you’d think. None of the lights are on, so the first thing you do is light a candle when you step through the door, dropping your backpack onto the dining room table. Dunking all your materials out, you take the hammer and start your work.

There’s something soothing about the darkness outside, with the way nothing seems to exist besides you and your own thoughts in a city that overflows with a sense of community. You try not to think about the man most likely reading in his room just a floor above you and focus on hanging the fabrics in front of all of the windows. The cloths are mismatched in color, and your hammer work is nothing more than sufficient, but it’ll do for now. At least until you can get actual curtains installed.

You worry that some of the fabrics aren’t thick enough to absorb all the sunlight, so you layer another fabric on top of it until you’re sure that even your candlelight cannot be seen from outside. Why you’re going so far for him, you do not know. You prefer to assure yourself that you need him to help stop the spawn from devouring the entire city, but even in your own thoughts, it sounds like a lie.

You wonder if he cares nearly as much as you do. He probably doesn’t.

You hate him, you think for the millionth time today. You want to, at the very least.

You flinch when a splinter in the wooden wall splits your skin open, forming a drop of blood on your index finger. Curse the heavens above, nothing was going right today. You quickly reach for a towel but nearly jump when you hear his voice from the stairs. 

“You really need to stop with that habit of yours.”

You spin around, and he’s already at the foot of the stairs, reaching to grab a towel from the kitchen. But you’re faster, snatching it away and pressing it over your hand while he raises both his own, imitating a surrender of getting any closer. You can’t look at him in the eye—you don’t want to either. “What habit?”

“You’re speaking to me now?” he raises a brow, and you turn away again after shooting him a glare. “I’d thought you’d avoid me forever—scurrying off like a squirrel whenever I step into the room.”

You should avoid him forever. But the words don’t reach your tongue, and you choose to ignore him.

He doesn’t budge. “I meant bleeding around me.”

“What?”

“Every time I see you, you always seem to be bleeding.”

You frown at him. “Maybe you just prefer being around me when I’m bleeding.”

“You might be right." You think maybe he’s done with this painfully awkward conversation until you see him staring at the windows covered with random pieces of fabric, and suddenly, you feel embarrassment creep up your skin. You realize how bizarre your actions must appear in someone else’s eyes, staying up to the break of dawn so that he’ll be able to traverse someplace outside the confines of his own room…

It might make him think you care, and the worst part is that a part of you does.

“I hope you don’t expect me to thank you, darling.”

The nickname feels like a stab to your heart, haunting, even, but you do your best to brush it off.

“For what?” you manage to force out through clenched teeth.

“The cell they would’ve thrown me into is nothing different from trapping me in that room, I’m afraid,” he laughs bitterly, and you want to crawl into a hole from how cold his voice sounds. Distant. Like how he’d sounded the day you found him next to his nautiloid pod. “But I suppose I should be grateful for having a bed instead of having to spend my days rotting away on the dirty floor?”

You bite your bottom lip, brows furrowing. “I don't expect anything from you.”

But you do. Not quite an expectation, but a lingering wish that maybe you can heal. It's pathetic, even in your own eyes and surely everyone else's, but you can't be bothered to care.

It pisses you off a bit. How he seems perfectly unfazed while you continue to drown in your own feelings.

“Are you just here to taunt me, or is there a reason for this conversation?” you snap. This is not quite how you wanted your reunion to go.

He raises a brow. “Taunt you? I'm only answering questions you're afraid to ask.”

“I don't need to know anything about you,” you grit through your teeth. “You left my mind the second you abandoned us.”

What a poor, wishful lie.

“Ha!” It doesn't really sound like a laugh—more a scoff of disbelief. It's like he knows what you're thinking, and for a split second, it feels like there's a tadpole in your head again. “Of course you think I'm the villain of your precious heroic tale! Honestly darling, the irony just writes itself.”

You fight the urge to scowl, but you're not sure if you're successful. You find yourself gripping onto the towel harder, teeth clenched as your chest tightens just hearing his words. You truly hate that he seems to care less than you—it’s like he's not even taking you seriously.

And that damned nickname.

It feels like talking to the Astarion you first met—one who’s only intentions were to use you—but this time, you don't think it’s a mask. He doesn't want anything more from you. Only your own suffering from taking the power that would have made him untouchable.

“So tell me, dear, do you wish for me to grovel at your feet?”

Your eyes widen, and the term of endearment that once made your cheeks flush only makes you feel sick. “What?”

“Do you expect me to drop to my knees, begging for your forgiveness?” he says again, eerily composed while you struggle to come up with words. “Perhaps I would have if we were still staying in that camp. Put on a show, even."

You frown, setting your hammer down on the counter. “I’ve never made you grovel. I’ve never made you do anything.”

“Maybe not directly, no, you’re too kind of a soul to do so,” there’s venom lacing the words that feel nothing short of a lie. Somehow, he’s still smiling. “Instead, you made me beg for your help. You accepted—made it feel like I had a choice. Then tore it away just the same, in the cruelest way possible. Impressive, really. I didn't expect such dramatic sins from you.”

The way he looks at you, words dripping with sarcasm, makes you want to melt into the floor, ceasing to exist as a whole. But alas, you continue standing like a deer in headlights, unsure of how to respond. You look down to see the towel stained with your blood and inhale deeply, watching the dark sky lighten with daybreak through the window. “The sun’s rising.”

His smile drops, something foreign flickering in his eyes. He suddenly steps toward you, and as soon as he gets within two feet, you find yourself stepping backward, your fingers tightening around the hammer. You have no idea if you'd even be able to use it, but it's better than digging your nails into your palms.

It doesn't go unnoticed.

“Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asks, his expression indecipherable. “I didn’t realize the great savior of the city could be afraid of a mere vampire spawn.”

You don't want to think he'd truly kill you. Not really, but your mind flashes back to the look in his eyes when he had his hands wrapped around your lifeline, and you grip the hammer tighter, heartbeat pounding impossibly fast.

“You did try to strangle me last time we spoke,” you mutter.

His lip twitches, and he steps back bitterly. You feel like you can breathe again.“Ah, yes, that.”

You swear your stomach drops to your feet at the mere suggestion he’d forgotten what haunts your nightmares every night, forcing you to lurch from your rest in a cold sweat, hands shaking, and having nobody to turn to for comfort. He couldn't be that cruel…could he? You want to scream at him, punch him, kick him, tell him he’s not being fair. You want to defend yourself, say that all you’ve ever wanted was for him to be safe, but even that feels like too much when he’s giving you so little.

“Very well, I’ll indulge you,” he grins again. You realize your time is running out, the sun beginning to peer out from the horizon. “Why did you assume responsibility for me? I can’t imagine why you’d want such a terrible foe in your life living right next door of your own sanctuary.”

For the city, you tell yourself. For Cora's husband and the poor victims drained off their life, all alone in the darkest corners of Baldur's Gate. “...I didn’t do it for you.”

He searches your face for something, his eyes narrowing. He's waiting for you to continue, but there's no more fuel in the tank, and now you just want to sleep for a very long time. You assume he comes up empty when the corners of his lips fall, and he turns to climb up the stairs. Sunlight hits your back as your eyes trail him in his steps, and it does nothing to warm how cold it feels in the room.

“That much I’m aware,” he stops his steps for a brief moment. You barely catch it, but it's there. “Terribly aware.”

And when he finally leaves, you bury your face into your hands.

"I'm nervous."

"What for?"

"What if the ascension goes wrong? Are you sure we should really be doing this, Astarion?"

He brushes your hair out of your face, cupping both your cheeks in his hands. "We'll be okay, my love. I will still be here, and so will you. I'll just finally have enough power to protect what I care about."

He sees the hesitance in your eyes and leans his forehead against yours. You melt into his touch, placing your hands atop his.

"So please, stand beside me for this," he pleads.

And despite the way your intuition screams at you otherwise, despite the way your very being begs you to pull away, you nod, sealing your fate.

"I'll be right here."

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[randoimago]

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

Check my Fandoms/Rules List to see what characters I'm writing for!!

If you can't see anything under the character then it's prob cause I've had no requests for them (or you're using the Tumblr app which causes links to break) !!

The Party

Astarion

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Halsin

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Gale

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Karlach

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Lae'zel

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Minsc

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Minthara

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Shadowheart

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Wyll

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Camp Followers // Companions

Barcus Wroot

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Dame Aylin

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Hope

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Isobel

.

Omeluum

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NPC's

Alfira

.

Dammon

.

Lakrissa

.

Rolan

.

Zevlor

.

Antagonists

Gortash

.

Orin

.

Raphael

.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

[ghoulishlygrey]

The New Mrs. Dekarios Chapter One

Chapter One

Find chapter two here <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale Dekarios x Fem!reader/Tav

18+ MDNI

Tags: weddings, tailor!astarion, bride!reader, oral sex, cunnilingus, wedding fluff, praise kink, soft Gale, sorcerer tav

Read it on Ao3

Enjoy!

Words: 3484

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The Waterdeep breeze tickled your face and sent your veil from out behind you, gracefully floating on the wind. You had just stepped out from the tower, you were wearing your dream wedding dress. You felt so beautiful, the dress fit you like a glove and accentuated all your best features. You stared down the aisle and your eyes met your fiancé’s. He looked so handsome in his formal wear, a deep purple with golden accents around the sleeve and collar. He was misty-eyed as his gaze fell to you, a deep sigh resonating in his chest as he brought a hand up to swipe at his eyes. Shadowheart and Karlach were already at the end, standing off to the left. They looked wonderful in the outfits you had picked out for them, though Karlach looked a tad uncomfortable to be wearing something so fancy. You were glad to have fixed her internal engine, and were glad to have freed Shadowheart from her toxic faith. They both smiled at you from across the venue, sharing the same sentiments. Alfira and some hired bards play a lovely tune in the corner, waiting for the bride, you, to show up. 

Lae’zel sat in the audience, not wanting to take place in such an event, she even used the word *istik* when asked about it. But she was here nonetheless, and that you were grateful for. Astarion unfortunately couldn’t be there, as your wedding took place during the day, albeit sunset. “I’ll show up to the reception, darling.” He assured you, putting another pin in your, at the time, too-big dress. Astarion had tailored it for you, his own little contribution to your big day and his own special way of being there for you. Withers stood in the middle of everyone, big book in hand and a blank expression on his decaying face. Classic. The teiflings you had slain the goblin leaders for made up the bulk of the audience, along with the remaining companions you picked up along the way. Wyll stood next to Gale, as he was presented with the honor of being best man. Tara, Gale’s tressym, sat on a pillow next to Wyll, two rings tied with twine around her collar. 

As you began to walk down the aisle, you thought about every event that led up to this moment. What if you had never been abducted? What if you had never walked past his malfunctioning portal? You would never know, and would never want to find out. After everything you had endured, it seemed to be all worth it in the end. Worth it for this moment. 

You finally reach the end of the aisle, handing off your bouquet to Karlach. It was composed of night orchids, a beautiful gift from Shadowheart that you just had to incorporate in your big day. She was one of your best friends, after all. 

Gale takes your now free hands in his, fingers running over your knuckles. “You’re stunning.” He rasps, a familiar tone to his voice that stirs something within you. 

“Thank you,” You reply, moving your hands to interlock your fingers with his, “You look very handsome.” And you meant it. You had never seen him wear something so extravagant and sophisticated, used to him wearing either light armor or his classic robes. He looked delicious, you thought, and if nobody else was here you’d drag his ass straight back into the tower and tear the clothes from his body, relishing in each button and buckle.

The fantasy doesn’t last long as you ground yourself and remember where you are. There was plenty of time for those shenanigans later.  

“Let’s begin.” Withers says, tone as formal as ever. 

“Welcome to all. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of,” He says your name, “and Gale in holy matrimony.” 

Withers prattles on with his speech, all the while you’re locked in eye contact with Gale. You’ve always loved his puppy dog eyes, big brown spheres that looked at you like you were the only girl in the world, a gaze that held you in such high regard. You give him a warm smile, one he returns with a slight chuckle, he was just so damn happy. 

“Do you,” Withers says your name,”Take Gale to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

This was it, the moment you had been waiting for since the first words you had spoken to this handsome man. “I do.” 

“And do you, Gale, take,” He says your name, “to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Gale says, words spilling from his mouth the second Withers was done with the question. He was clearly excited, a fact that made you blush. 

“Now, the vows.” Withers grabs your attention, looking at you blankly but expectantly. You clear your throat, getting ready to address not only your lovely fiancé, but your massive audience too. Karlach hands digs in her suit jacket, pulling out a folded piece of paper and hands it to you. You nod in thanks. 

You unfold the paper, trying to swallow the lump in your throat, you were nervous; you weren’t used to giving big speeches. 

“Gale, my love,” you start, taking one of his hands while keeping the other one busy with holding the paper, “Ever since I pulled you out of that portal, I have loved you. I have loved you through our adventures, through our hardships, through everything we have faced. Even when you absorbed my rare magic items, which I still don’t know the logistics of, by the way-” That gets a chuckle from the crowd and Gale. His eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, a reaction that spurred you on to continue your speech, “-I have loved you.” You feel the tears in your own eyes now, you could just feel the love radiating from your lover as he stares at you, listening intently. 

“My love for you will never falter, like a star; when I am long gone my love for you will live on through our poetry, through the friendships we’ve made, and finally it will live through you. I have not regretted a second of our journey together, and if it takes an illithid tadpole for us to be together, so be it. I know we can tackle anything that’s thrown our way, we’ve been doing an amazing job already. So whatever comes next for us, I’m glad it’s with you.”

You hand the paper back to Karlach, turning back to Gale and giving him your full attention. To start, he says your name, voice like honey as he does. “Before you I was lost, wandering through life without purpose. I never knew what real love was, what it could be like, what it could feel like. When I first met you, not only was I taken by your beauty but your kindness. You could’ve easily walked past that malfunctioning portal but you didn’t. Instead you calmed it with your talent in magic, and pulled me out. If not for you I would be lost, you are the leading light in my life, and you have been since the moment I laid eyes on you. You have continued to take my breath away with your courage, valor, and talent and I will love you until my last breath. I shall say it one more time for emphasis; I love you.”

“Tara, if you will.” Withers signals to the tressym, who gets up from her purple silk pillow to rub against Gale’s leg. He picks her up, holding her out so you can take the rings from around her collar. “Thank you,” Gale says into her fur before setting her down, Tara seems to nod before heading back to her pillow, settling in to watch the rest of the ceremony. 

You hand your ring to Gale, holding out your left hand for him. He delicately takes your hand, sliding the ring over your ring finger, a perfect fit. It was your dream ring, everything about it was everything you ever wanted; everything you dreamt about since you were a little girl. 

The ring you got Gale was also beautiful, it was silver with embedded amethyst. Purple, his favorite color. 

You meet his gaze again as he takes your hands in his. You never knew a gaze could hold so much love and admiration until you met Gale, until you had this relationship. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride…” Withers looks like he very much wants to leave, or that he couldn’t care less, you couldn’t decide and you yourself didn’t care.

Gale gently moves his hand to cup your face, and your arms go to his shoulders. He pulls you closer before delivering a chaste kiss, sweet and simple. You return in kind, slotting your lips over his. 

The kiss is over as quickly as it started. Everyone in the audience has risen to their feet, applauding you as you take your new husband's hand and head down the aisle and back towards the tower. As you did, you sneak a glance over to your lover who to your surprise is already staring at you. “What?” You ask him, cheeks glowing with a pink blush.

“I’m looking at the most beautiful woman in the world, the new Mrs. Dekarios.” He beams at you, and you beam right back. Soon, you come upon the tower and you reach a hand out to open the door. 

“Ah, ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?” Gale asks, putting his hand over yours and stopping you. “I’m opening the door? We have to get ready for the reception.” You glanced back at your guests, all of which were mingling, retrieving drinks from the various barrels and crates, and dancing to the music. 

“We do this right or not at all.” Gale says, and before you can question what he means he’s scooping you up into his arms earning a surprised squeal from you. “Gale-!” You say, arms automatically linking behind his head and around his shoulders. 

He gives you a wicked smile before kicking open the door and walking through. “There! Now we’ve done it properly.” He holds you in his arms for a moment longer, taking a moment to gaze upon your face. You take the opportunity to lean in and kiss him. The kiss starts out slow, so slow that Gale is able to delicately set you down without breaking it. However, it picks up quickly when Gale slides his tongue across your lips, requesting access. You allow it, opening your mouth for him, allowing your tongues to clash together. 

You feel his hands skate up your back and your arms around his shoulder tighten, pulling him as close as possible. What he does next makes you gasp into his mouth; he begins to undo the corseted back of your dress, hands expertly undoing your laces. You know exactly what he has in mind. “We can’t.” You say, barely breaking the kiss to get the words out before diving back in. There were so many people just beyond the front door, all of which were waiting on you. Gale just smiles against your lips before continuing his unlacing. He halts the kiss when he’s done, leaning back to get another look at you. “I need you.” He says, voice dripping with lust. And boy, did you want him, too. 

“But the others-” you start, turning your head to gesture towards the curtained front window.

“Can wait.” He cuts you off, leaning back in to make a trail down your neck with his mouth. You moan when he finds your pulse point, sucking lightly.

“Wouldn’t this be bad luck?” You chuckle, hands carding through his hair as he kisses back up your neck and towards your lips. 

“I think we’ve had enough bad luck to last us a lifetime. The world owes us.” He says, pulling back from your face to look into your eyes. His were twinkling, pupils blown wide in want. 

Your eyes glanced at the clock on the wall. The sun was setting steadily outside, the reception started when night overtook the sky. You wagered you had approximately twenty minutes of free time before people came looking for you. Your eyes drift back to his, and it’s like he’s almost reading your mind. “We have to be quick,” You start and you can see the excitement hit his face as it lights up. You slide out of your dress completely left in only your undergarments. He takes a second to take you in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.  

“I will ravish you properly later, my love, as you deserve. But for now I just need you, and you may have me in any way you desire.” 

As much as you’d love to be full of him, sheathed to the hilt on his cock, you wanted to make this time about him, wanted to give him pleasure. 

You sink to your knees in front of him and the shock on his face makes you chuckle. 

“What?” You ask, hands making themselves busy with the buttons on his trousers. His hands fall over yours, stilling your movements. 

“You don’t have to do that, this should be about us, not just me.” 

“We have all night to make it about us but for now shut up and let me ‘ravish you.’” You quote him to himself and he laughs, removing his hands from yours and letting you continue your unbuttoning. 

“I love you.” He says simply, gazing down at you with that familiar look, the look that made your knees weak and heart full. “I know.” You tease, finally pulling his trousers down his legs. 

His erection is already fully present, restrained behind the fabric of his underwear. Your mouth instantly starts to water, just the thought of taking him with your mouth stirs something in your core. 

You push the waistband of his boxers down and his cock springs free. You grip the base, earning a shudder from your husband. 

“So perfect,” He coos, hand going to your head and massaging gently. 

You just smirk up at him, making eye contact as you take the head in your mouth, tongue swirling around it and lapping up the salty precum. 

Gale’s head fell back with a groan, and his hand made a slight pressure against your scalp, a silent asking of you to take him further. 

You let him go entirely after that, if only for a moment. 

“So impatient.” You scolded light-heartedly.

He chuckles, “You’re the one who said we have to be quick.” 

You hum in response, going back to the task at hand. This time you do take him further, letting him in inch by inch. When you reach as far as you can, you wrap your hand around what you cannot, making sure he was covered entirely. 

You felt your eyes flutter shut as you worked him over, tongue rubbing the underside of his shaft. You hollow your cheeks, creating a suction that makes him gasp. 

“I fo-forgot how good you were at this.” He smiles down at you, the hand in your hair petting you. “Such a good girl.”

Something about his praise ignites something in you, shooting a wave of pleasure down to your core. 

It spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, bobbing your head and opening your throat as his head hits the back of it. You suppress a gag, your saliva dripping from your mouth and down his shaft. 

He grunts and moans at every little movement you pull, whispering sweet little praises all the while. 

“So good, such a perfect mouth on a perfect girl.” He manages to get the sentence out through moans and grunts, hand on your head tangling in your hair, following each movement. 

It was just too much, the pressure between your legs grew with each word and sound he made. You reach down, hand disappearing below the waistband of your panties. Your fingers find your sensitive bud, making small circles around it and you moan against his cock. 

Gale catches what you’re doing and it sends a steady blush across his face. “You look so good doing that.” 

You whine, hand in your waistband moving faster with each breath you take. Soon you can feel his resolve faltering above you, his hips shaking and breath heavy. 

“I’m going to-”

“Do it.” You momentarily slide from his cock to look up at him before continuing your languid motions. 

With a few more head bobs, he’s there, releasing into your mouth. You take it in, lapping up every drop as it shoots in your mouth. Above you, he’s moaning, free hand over his mouth to keep himself from alerting everyone outside to your activities. 

With a little pop, you pull off his shaft, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“I saw what you were doing down there, did you finish?” He asks, helping you up before tucking himself back into his trousers. “No,” You were honest with him, you didn’t have enough time to finish yourself off, but that was fine, that moment was supposed to be about him anyways. But when you look at Gale, he almost looks offended.

“Well, we can’t have that!” He says grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch in the living room. You gasp when he (gently) pushes you down onto the cushions and kneels before you. 

“My lady,” He starts, grabbing one of your hands, “Allow me.” 

You part your legs for him, allowing access to your clothed cunt. “If you insist.” You laugh, allowing his hand to slip from yours as he pushes your underwear to the side.

Even though he’s seen it a thousand times by now, he always is in such awe when he gets to see your sex, gazing at it and you like he was lost in the desert and your pussy was water. 

He wastes no time diving in, licking one broad swipe up your folds. You mewl, back arching off the couch at the contact. He brings a hand to your lower stomach, keeping you firmly grounded.

“I have barely touched you yet you’re soaked, you truly are magic.” He says, momentarily watching you from between your legs. To him, you were magic itself. Somebody that he worshiped, someone that he loved. You knew all this, and returned it ten fold. 

He turns his attention back to your aching hole, tongue dipping in as he makes another stripe. He starts to lap at your hole, tongue moving in and out at a steady pace. You moan, long and loud and it causes him to pop up once again. “We must be quiet, dearest. We don’t want them hearing us.” He chuckles, face glistening with your juices. 

You laugh, making a show of you covering your mouth with your hand and beckoning him to continue. He does, diving back into your pussy with renewed vigor, lips coming to encircle your clit and sucking gently. You bite your hand, choking back a cry of ecstasy as he makes you see stars with his tongue alone. You gasp when he introduces his fingers, plunging one and then two into you. 

He moves in and out of you rhythmically and you find yourself rutting against his face, moaning whenever his nose rubbed against your clit. You were chasing your high, relishing in the feeling of the coil in your stomach tightening with every thrust of his fingers. His fingers are stretching you out so deliciously you can’t help the tears that spring from your eyes. You curse mentally, you’d have to redo your makeup before you went to your reception. 

A couple more plunges and you’re there, cumming around his fingers with a muffled scream. He laps at your hole more, catching every last drop of your orgasm. You collapse into the cushions, panting slightly as he moves to lay next to you. 

“Now *that* was magic.” You sigh, head looking to the side to catch a glimpse of Gale who is already staring at you. 

“Everything we do together is magic, my love.” He sits up, and you catch another glimpse of his beard, dripping with your slick. You blush, adjusting your underwear back to its proper position. 

He stands, “Alright, up you get.” He holds his hands out to you, “We have a reception to attend.” You glance out the window, goddammit, you were already running behind schedule. 

“Race you to the top of the tower.” You say, picking up your dress from its state on the floor and taking position at the base of the stairs.

“Oh, you’re on.” He says, running past you and up the stairs.

“I didn’t say ‘go!’”

You run after him, laughing the whole way.  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

note: Thanks for reading! If you'd like to see more of my work don't forget to follow me here for updates and more fics.

[asillylittleistik]

Hello y'all, welcome to my BG3 writing blog. I don't wish to share my real name, but you all can call me Cain on here! This blog will mostly be me filling out asks from y'all, but I'm also totally open to chat about anything BG3, like potential AUs, what-if scenarios, and anything else that comes to mind. Just make sure to read the rules before going on, thank you!

RULES

We are for the girls here! This is a blog specifically for WLW and NBLW! Reader will be gender-neutral by default, and can be made female on request, but will NEVER be male. I am also only writing for female characters.

If you think your ask may contain sensitive content, please try to find a way to mark it with a CW. I'll be including CWs in all my posts, but it's still important and appreciated to put that in the ask as well.

I am human, and it may take me a while to get to your ask. If you think I may have missed your request, or would like a progress update, I will gladly answer, but please try to give me some time to get to it first.

If you give me a request while the inbox is closed, it will be thrown out (so no, it will not be first in line when my inbox opens again, that's not how that works).

WHAT I DO:

Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut.

Readers of any race and class (and this includes races not listed in BG3, anything from 5e is allowed, for those who know what that means).

Drabbles, scenarios, one-shots, matchups, and possibly a multi-chapter fic if I really like your idea.

I also write character x character, assuming both of those characters are still female (I love my little gaggle of bisexuals).

Werewolves (PLEASE somebody ask me about werewolf Shadowheart), ABO, G!P, and trans female characters (both of the BG3 characters and reader)

Any kind of AU you can imagine (modern AU, godhood AU, mind flayer AU, literally anything).

WHAT I DON'T DO:

Some hardcore kinks, like piss, scat, vomit, age-play, and snuff. I doubt there was a big audience for that anyway, but still. Y'all nasty sometimes. Anything else is pretty much fair game though.

HEAVY angst or major character death (of the character, not the reader). I'm sorry but I'm a big baby and can't write things that are so hopelessly sad. This rule is kinda so-so, so if you have a request, feel free to submit it, but just know that I might not do it.

MALE CHARACTERS AND MALE READER. I know I said that once already but I don't want the Astarion girlies taking over, sorry y'all.

CHARACTER LIST:

Shadowheart

Lae'zel

Karlach

Jaheira

Minthara

Alfira

Dame Aylin and Isobel (only together/poly)

If you have any other characters to request, feel free to ask, this is not a definitive list.

That's all from me. Thank you for reading!

[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!