#GALE PLEASE LET ME HIT

[ozumii-fucking-wizard]

Oh, my foolish wizard...lean your weight on me.

[hawkesfavor]

gale i want you bad PLEASE

[hijackalx]

MALE BG3 CHARACTERS EATING OUT F!READER +18

characters included: gale, astarion, wyll, gortash

FEMALE BG3 CHARACTERS

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY YALL!!!! your bg3 pookies have a present for you !!!! (hint: it’s head)

ASTARION

you guys already know i’m a pleasure dom astarion truther 😹😹 at the end of the game he is WHIPPED for you. so he enjoys every minute of giving you head

and he’s so good at it. and he knows he’s good at it

well— he’s good at it as long as he has the patience. sometimes he’d just rather make you finish on his cock and you know how he is when he wants something

ANYWAY……. he’s obsessed with the way you taste. and smell. especially when you’re close to/on your period. will literally BEG you to let him eat you out then

can be a little rough when you’re bleeding though. he gets a bit overexcited 😹😹 sometimes he has to stop and bite your thigh to regulate himself, which honestly hurts worse LMAO

will look you in the eyes while he kisses your clit

he basically never breaks eye contact. eye contact is HUGE for him. he’s mostly watching how you react so he can adjust accordingly, but he also loves how intimate it is

SO much praise if you react the way he wants— “thaaat’s it... that’s my girl”. he loves hearing you whimper his name, he could literally get off to that alone. your voice is as sweet as you taste

secretly loves when you reach out to hold his hand lol. he thinks it’s so cute

also loves having to hold your legs open when you start to squirm/try to close them. your thighs will be so bruised after

when you tell him how good it feels he goes “i know, i know” in the sweetest, faux-sympathy tone. he’s cocky with it lmao

immediately goes “come give me a kiss, darling” after you finish and he hasn’t wiped his face off yet. half of him is doing it to tease you and the other half genuinely wants you to kiss him lol

WYLL

i’m going to be honest i think you’re his first

he’s a little nervous to try it but he’s also SO eager. he’s just worried he’s not going to be good at it lol

he needs a lot of praise and reassurance. he’s constantly watching your expressions to see if you like it, but at the same time he doesn’t really know what to do if you don’t 😹

at first he’ll need some direction but he learns so fast. will start out slow and hesitant but eventually just loses himself in the pussy LMAO

gets rock hard from eating you out. the sounds and faces you make drive him crazy, mostly because he’s so eager to please. LOVES to know when he’s doing good

the type to moan into your pussy. probably because he’s grinding into the bed 😹😹

i think he could probably finish just from eating you out

when he gets more confident, he can be a bit of a tease. sometimes he’ll stop to pepper kisses on your thighs so he can hear you beg for him to keep going

he feels bad making you beg for too long though so he gives in pretty quick lol “anything for you, my love” or “your pleas are so beautiful— how could i say no?”

also i think he’ll eventually try to fuck you with his fingers while he eats you out too. once he gets the hang of balancing both it’s MAGICAL

likes to eat you out while you’re standing. something about having your leg propped over his shoulder while looking up at you from his knees does something to him BAD

he usually doesn’t want to overstim you because it feels mean 😹😹 but he will absolutely keep going if you want him to

GORTASH

i don’t think he really ate pussy before he met you LMAO

he seems like he can be a pretty selfish lover— if there’s nothing in it for him then what’s the point?

BUT……….. there’s something about you…….

he feels a little weird the first time he gets the urge to do it. he sticks his fingers in his mouth to clean them after they were inside you…… and when that creamy taste hits his tongue….. boom……. his third eye opens

he’s not super adept at it to start, but he’s got the spirit 😹😹

he literally eats it like he’s STARVING. i’m talking lickin’ and suckin’ on ANYTHING he can put in his mouth. nothing is safe. clit? assaulted. lips? sucked on. hole? tongue-fucked

even when he’s eating you out it’s like he’s doing it for himself LMAO. he just disappears into his own little world

he DOES love your praise though, so that kind of encourages him to try to work it out of you. he needs to hear you tell him how good it feels or it’ll bruise his ego

reaches up to knead a titty while he’s doing it

LOVES to do a bunch of hungry, flat sweeps with his tongue. will also press and hold it against you like that to get you to grind on it. he wants to see how needy you are

will say nasty shit into your pussy. “you taste so fucking good, baby”, “daddy loves this pretty little pussy of yours”. you can feel every vibration from his voice

will want to spit in your mouth after

GALE

i feel like gale is the greatest pussy eater there is. like he basically has no vices when it comes to eating you out

he’s extremely sensitive and receptive so he always knows what to do. sometimes you don’t even have to say anything. he just figures it out

his FAVORITE position is facesitting. eating pussy is a literal hobby to him

he’s SO good with his tongue. he has such good control of it and uses it to absolutely destroy your clit. his switching between circling and flicking will make you finish embarrassingly fast

will overstimulate you if you let him. he’ll keep making you cum on his tongue until your whole body is shaking

also the way his beard feels against your inner thighs/lips…………… magnificent……

since he’s a thigh man he loves to knead/bite/rub on your thighs too. will legit almost bust when you try to close your legs around his head. it’s that serious 😹😹

LOVES when you grind on his face. will grab you by the hips and encourage you to do it. you using his face to get off is so hot to him

likes to stimulate your g-spot with his fingers while simultaneously sucking on your clit. also gets off to all the lewd, wet sounds he creates while he does this

moans and groans like he’s eating a five star meal LMFAO

talks A LOT but it somehow doesn’t get in the way of what he’s doing. most of it is incoherent mumbling along the lines of “so good, so good”— but other than that he tells you how gorgeous/perfect your pussy is. i’m not joking when i say he worships your pussy

he WILL try to make you squirt. he’s in the splash zone for a reason baby

[ssalballoon]

ljósálfr gale and dökkálfr astarion! 🦋🥀 bringers of dreams and nightmares

based on the hit mobile game fire emblem heroes. download it for free today! (Please Do Not)

a lot of notes on the designs under the cut, i had so much fun with these!

gale

- the eyes on the wings are mystra's

- the colors are based on his aurora stargazing scene

- he's based on the dream-king freyr, who takes human children in unfortunate circumstances and turns them into fairies that become "their most extraordinary selves" but can never return home. he feels guilty for intervening in their fates, but the ends justify the means to grow the power of his realm :-) he mourns the fact that humans stop dreaming (as in losing their ambitions) as they grow older

(feel like this is the type of thing god gale who's slowly becoming more like mystra would do and convince himself nooo it's completely ethical i'm being benevolent actually)

astarion

- the eyes on the yellow wings are cazador's

- one set of wings are yellow inspired by his longing for the sun

- the flowers are the same flowers on his grave, the garden star-of-Bethlehem

- he's based on the character plumeria, who's the bringer of lustful dreams and is disgusted by the humans who have such indecent desires. (she's one of the humans transformed/kidnapped into a fairy) she puts up a sensual front but hates the way people leer at her. nonetheless she must deliver those vulgar desires as dreams, doing a job she hates :-) all she wants is true compassionate love removed from lust... is this ringing a bell 

please don't let any of this trick you into believing feh has a good story. but also expect more feh x bg3 from me in the future lol

[whirlybirbs]

please god give me "[ CLING ]: having finally been reunited, the sender pulls the receiver into a tight, overwhelmingly relieved embrace, clinging to them and burying their face in their shoulder" with astarion and gale.

┊ astarion ancunín + f!tav!reader┊ CLING

His voice is a near shriek — full of irritation.

"What is wrong with you, hm?!"

"Astarion, I am not in the mood—"

"Oh, well pardon me, my dear lady," comes the snarl of a snarked jest as he follows hot on your trail, "Had I known you weren't in the mood, I would simply have kept my mouth shut and let you die!"

"I had it handled!" you fire back, throwing your hands in the starry, night air and very much ignoring the inquisitive looks from the rest of camp. Astarion does not let up, in fact he jogs to follow more closely than before — right on your boot heels.

"He had a knife to your throat!"

"Wouldn't be the first time that's happened!"

"God, you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met—"

You finally reach your tent and slam your pack down on your makeshift vanity. Inside, the stolen wares rattle amongst pinched gold and silver. A few scrolls, a few potions; enough to get you and your rag-tag team through the next few days on the road.

You'd embarked into the town at sundown, with Astarion by your side, to pull a few old tricks. You're not a stranger to the silver-tongued methods of a thief. A few plucked lute strings, a few batted eyes. Usually, it's quick work. But, tonight you'd met a bit of resistance behind the town's tavern.

At the edge of camp, it's darker. The moon is hung half-full in the sky, and you gather your matches lighter to ignite your trusty lamp. However, the moment you move to flick the ignition, there's a hand on yours.

"Will you listen to me?"

"I told you," you huff haughtily, "I'm not in the mood, Astarion—"

Suddenly, he slaps the pack of matches from your hands.

It hits the ground a few feet away.

You look up at him, brow wrinkled in shock and confusion.

"...Rude..."

His face is set in a firm frown. And then, suddenly, he's pulling you into an embrace that is as unpracticed as it is rough. Your arms are cramped to your sides as the vampire presses his face hard into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel him huff, and then soften slightly.

Your attitude melts away.

"Don't do that again," comes a quiet, desperate utterance. You swear it will cling to your throat forever more; the sound of his true intentions, "As much as I hate to admit it, you've grown on me."

Your eyes slip shut. "...I'm sorry."

He scoffs. His nose, cold and delicate, brushes the skin of your throat.

Astarion can feel the thrum of life beneath your skin there; a familiar feeling. His heart pangs in want. He knows your scent best — comforting. Home. Even if you aren't entirely aware of it.

...But, he'll keep that to himself for now.

And maybe forever.

┊ gale dekarios + tav!reader ┊ CLING

It's a long trek back to camp — and by morning, you've never been happier to smell the last embers of a fire that's burnt noon and night.

Morning rays, fresh from the dawn, spill over the horizon as you meander into the camp. There's dew on your boots and blood in your hair. The gash along your side has long since coagulated into a sticky, cold mess; your leathers are drenched in all sorts of gore. Not all your own. Most belonging to the three Gnolls who had attempted to take you along with your hunted prey for the camp's dinner.

You lost the boar, your favorite bow, and a good amount of pride in the scuffle.

The moment you cross the threshold of camp, you can taste the tang of magic in the air.

You know, immediately, that it's Gale.

Perhaps it's your own awareness of the Weave, or a particular tenderness for the Wizard himself, but you feel him before you see him.

And then, it's a crushing embrace.

His toiling is long forgotten the moment he lays eyes on you, in all your brutality, and he can't help but surge forward with enough momentum to nearly knock you both breathless.

"Where the hell have you been? Avernus?" he mutters, one hand moving to gently cradle the back of your head. His palm is warm, radiating already with a healing magic that alights the air with the smell of lavender.

"Met a bit of trouble fetching us dinner—"

"Karlach will have your head," Gale says, leaning back to eye you up and down as a warm sweep of light graces your edges. You feel it, like a touch white-hot against bare skin. Intimate. Caring. Different entirely from Shadowheart's healing entirely, "She has been out all night searching for you — Astarion, too."

"I'm fine," you mutter — pointedly keeping the fact you had been chased up a tree by the aforementioned Gnolls to yourself — hands falling to his waist, "And I'm ruining your robes."

"Hush."

The magic pulses hotly, and you slip your eyes shut at the intrusion. His sternness comes robed in warmth. A safe sort of thing.

Gale pulls away only long enough to plant a kiss on your brow.

AS ALWAYS: prompts are here, the ask box is here.

[demigoddessqueens]

Can I request 6. "that's," they groan, pressing their visible bulge over your stomach, "that, darling, is what you do to me." from smutty prompts cus u asked for it list with Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Astarion, Raphael, Rolan, and Zevlor with female s/o please?

-CV-Non

Ooooh you got it anon 😉

a/n - the writing prompts these are based off are found here

Kinktober 2024 || Masterlist 12

Raphael

The devil has his little songbird trapped beneath him. Of course he notices the bulge beneath him and how you beg for release. But oh…it’s not yet and he still has so much planned for you until you cum.

Gale

The mage cares for your pleasure first and foremost during lovemaking. Whether you’re on top or he is, he has a guilty pleasure to peek at the bulge that stares at him whenever you ride him. He’s doing this to you…

Wyll

The young man has had a dalliance or two in the past but his experience with you is different. It’s more passionate, loving, reciprocal and Wyll grows fond of having your legs thrown over his shoulders just to see how well your body takes him.

Astarion

He always wants you to feel good and safe around him. The intimate settings are where he lets loose more than you do, overflowing and pouring all heart and soul into you. Yet seeing you admire the bulge he feels self-conscious about is enough to make him come undone.

Zevlor

He’s not distracted by you bouncing on his length but by how your body undulates when he’s inside of you. Your hand trails up from rubbing your clit to the ridges that bulge underneath your skin. “See that? That’s what I love about you.”

Halsin

Animalistic growls and grunts keep pouring out as he thrusts harder into you. Head is clouded with thoughts of wanting to fill you repeatedly and your hands running up it only makes the Druid lose inhibition.

Rolan

The tiefling takes every experience with you in stride, that is if he’s not blushing at how juvenile he feels with these things. As you point out the prominent bulge that hits all your spots, he tries his damnedest not to spill inside of you.

[rolanpilled]

BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers

WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.

people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)

lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith

astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself

(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people

jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon

wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son

minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao

gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower

shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever

withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).

milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing

there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!

"Official Guild Letter"

"Letter from Barcus"

"Letter from Art"

"Letter from Valeria"

"Letter from Ravengard"

"Letter from Sebastian"

"Letter from Florrick"

"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)

"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)

"Letter from Dammon"

"Letter from Elminster"

"Letter from Nocturne"

"Letter from Voss"

"Letter from Hope"

"Letter from Mayrina"

"Letter from Nine-Fingers"

"Letter from Zevlor"

"Harp-stamped Letter"

Baldur's Mouth Gazette

If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Seal It With a Kiss (one-shot)

Synopsys: After a looting session goes wrong, Astarion and Reader have to face the music and confront their feelings. Whatever they might be.

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, but nothing explicit

Word count: 3234

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

The light was too bright. And the ground was too hard. And the pillow too tough and lumpy. And why did Y/N feel so hot when it was literally snowing? And, actually, when had it started snowing? From bright blue skies, might she add?

Slowly, haziness dissipated from her eyes, and the world around came into sharp, painful focus. The light was too bright because half of her surroundings were on literal fire. The ground was too hard because she was half on rubble that once was a palace roof, and the tough, lumpy pillow was a rock her head had smashed against, while the snow was ashes flowing down, covering everything, including her, in a grey layer of soot, the sky peeking in from the hole above.

Although her sight was clearing, a sharp ringing pierced her ears. Or was it shouting?

A shadow crossed the sky, and above her, she could see their resident vampiric elf’s mouth moving.

“ – were you thinking?!” Finally, her ears started to clear as well. “You absolute imbecile! Why would you do that?!”

Y/N just groaned in response, as her memories came back in quick flashes. Everyone was arguing about where they should look for another magical artefact, Astarion shooting down what Gale had proposed, Wyll trying to make a sensible plan while Lae’Zel interrupted Shadowheart at any given moment. A deep rumble from the depths of the abandoned palace they were in silenced them all, Karlach throwing them a worried expression. And then the whole building exploded.

On instinct, Y/N had pushed Astarion as far away as she could before the ceiling came crashing down on top of her. It was nothing short of a miracle, she had managed to survive. Bruised, battered, no doubt with broken bones, but alive nonetheless. Maybe she’d have to thank a goddess or two. That was if Astarion didn’t rip her to pieces beforehand with how furious he looked.

Slowly Y/N tried to lift herself onto her forearms, and for all his admonishments, Astarion was quick to crouch down and help her, putting his arms under her pits and letting her rest against his chest.

“Oh dear,” she mumbled, noticing a large bannister lying across her leg. “That’s not good.”

“Not good?!” Astarion practically shrieked, his hands tightening around her ribs. “How hard did you hit your fucking head? This is so beyond not good I can’t even think of a level!”

Y/N winced at his tone. “Can you stop shouting, please? Gods, my head is splitting.”

“Oh, is it now? It would be quite the fucking miracle if it wasn’t, seeing as a whole fucking palace just toppled on you!”

“Quit being so dramatic and help get that thing off me! Where’re the rest?”

“Frankly, I don’t fucking care right now!” Astarion gently laid Y/N back down and went to the large boulder.

His arms strained as he lifted the piece of the pillar, her eyes widening at the display of strength.

She sometimes forgot how strong Astarion actually was, how easily he could snap her neck with just a twist of his hands if he so wished while Y/N allowed him to drink from her. But he was always gentle instead, with how he held her nape, fingers soothingly pressing into her scalp and knuckles brushing against her collarbones once he was done in a sweet gesture of thanks.

As quickly as she could, Y/N scooted from under the rubble, Astarion dropping the boulder back unceremoniously, and he was back by her side in a second, an arm wrapping around her waist, so she could lean on him.

“We have to find the others,” Y/N hissed as she stood. Her whole body screamed in pain, but they had to get out of the now-ruined palace, lest another explosion happen.

“They can find their own way out,” Astarion grunted, as he led them towards the exit.

“Astarion!”

“No!” He snapped his head to look at Y/N, and his scarlet eyes held such a desperate gaze in them, that she pinched her lips shut. “I will knock you out if I have to. I am not letting you get hurt again.”

“Astarion, they’re our friends,” Y/N’s voice was gentle. “We have to help them if we can.”

For a moment, Astarion truly looked like he might just throw her over his shoulder and march out of the place. But then he sighed, hanging his head in defeat before looking at her with pain distorting his features. “Why do you always have to be so good?”

Something tugged at her heart. That expression on his face, as if it physically put him in agony to lead them around the ruined palace in search of their companions, as he flinched and tightened his hold on her whenever something crackled, ready to throw his own body atop hers, in case something happened. It wasn’t selfishness, not one bit. Something deeper lay beneath Astarion’s reluctance.

It took them a while to find their party, but luckily no one was injured, and Y/N was the worst one off.  Shadowheart was by her side in an instant, giving her a healing potion.

“Should keep you set until we get back to camp.” She patted her shoulder. “I’ll heal you fully once we’re out of immediate danger.”

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled at the cleric.

She was just about to ask Astarion whether he was alright, but the vampire had already detached himself and was glaring at the ground, arms crossed over his chest ten feet away from her.

Y/N couldn’t deny – it stung. He’d been so worried just a few moments ago, yet now he couldn’t even look at her?

Her feet worked on their own accord, moving in his direction, but the way he turned his back to her, told her all she needed to know – he didn’t want to talk.

Pain shot through her heart, and it was definitely not because of the explosion, but Y/N respected his privacy, so she didn’t approach him any further, even though they always, always, walked next to one another.

“We should head back,” she spoke up, eyes remaining on Astarion’s taut back. “Maybe get some rest as well. We still have tomorrow anyway to search this place.”

When Astarion left the palace without even waiting to see if anyone was following, Y/N could do nothing but sigh and depart as well.

The walk to where they’d set up their camp was uncharacteristically quiet, especially from the pale elf’s side. He’d usually fill their travels with mindless talk and sarcastic quips, but this time around, he hung towards the back of their group and was as mum as a grave. He didn’t even comment on whatever Gale was saying, which made Y/N all the more uneasy.

She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he’d become so distant all of a sudden. What’d happened at the palace was nothing unusual. They risked their lives on the daily, saving others and themselves, so why in the world was Astarion so pissed about this, she had no clue.

Karlach leaned to the side, watching as the vampire entered his tent, closing the laces immediately. “Fangs is quite in a bad mood. Anything we should know about, soldier?”

Y/N huffed. “Probably broke a nail or something. In any case – nothing important enough to be acting the way he is.”

“Maybe I should go and – “

She put a palm on Karlach’s shoulder, stopping her, and giving her friend a wry smile. “I’ll talk to him. Better he’s angry at me and only me, not someone else as well. Apparently, I’ve pissed him off as is.”

“You sure?” the tiefling asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N nodded. “I think we need to have a talk anyway.”

With a “good luck” from Karlach, she sighed and steeled herself against whatever the vampire would throw her way. She unlaced the ties and lifted the flap to the side. With crossed arms, she entered Astarion’s tent, only to be greeted by his back as he stubbornly kept looking at a book in his hands, not even acknowledging her.

“Are you seriously pouting right now?” Y/N asked after a minute of silence.

“I’m not pouting, I’m brooding. There’s a difference.”

“Well, does brooding involve giving the silent treatment, or can we talk?”

Astarion threw a withering gaze over his shoulder. “What is there you want to talk about? Unless it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it.”

Y/N let out an exasperated huff. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I won’t apologise for saving your life.”

“By putting your own life in danger?!” Astarion spun around, throwing the tome he’d been holding onto his bedroll.

“Comes with the territory.” She shrugged. “You should know how it is.”

“Letting a whole building collapse on top of you is very different to knocking a blade out of the way!”

“Why are you so angry with me?” Y/N raised her voice, matching Astarion’s furious tone. “I saved your life!

“I didn’t ask for you to!”

She let out a disbelieving scoff. “Well, sucks to be you then! Because I was not just going to let you get crushed underneath all that rubble! Your life is just as important as everyone else’s!”

“Not to me! Not when it comes to you!”

Now that shut her up completely, her lips pinched in a thin line, eyes wide in shock. She and Astarion were friends, at least Y/N would've liked to think so. She most definitely had developed deeper feelings than that, but would only admit to it over her own dead body. The thought of Astarion’s rejection made her want to crumple into a small heap, but his reaction put thoughts in her head that maybe, just maybe, her feelings weren’t one-sided.

“What do you suppose I would do if you – if – if,” he stumbled on his words. “If I had to go on without you? If you were no longer with us… with me…”

“Astarion…”

“Do you understand how it felt to see you go down?” He sighed, hanging his head. “When I saw the roof caving in and then felt you push me away before you vanished beneath rubble and dust and ash… I’ve never been more terrified in all of my life, two hundred years of which were spent under the rule of an absolute sadist, where horrors awaited around every corner.”

His eyes bore nothing but pain and despair he’d felt in that moment. “I heard everyone else screaming - Shadowheart calling out, Wyll and Karlach making sure Gale and Lae’Zel were alright but nothing… not a single whisper from your voice. You tell me I’m pouting, but all I can see when I close my eyes is you… how you would look… dead. Your eyes closed forever, your blood spilling out of your body and I… I have to stand and watch as I am unable to save you.

“But I’m alright.” Y/N stepped up to him, taking one of his palms in hers, and squeezing it. “Astarion, I’m alive, and I’m fine.”

“But you almost weren’t!” he hissed, pulling her closer, bringing their clasped hands to rest against his chest. “And all I would have been left to do was wait for the dust to settle and dig out your broken body. You would have condemned me to eternity without you… I just almost lost the person I love... and that fear is something I never wish to experience again.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat at such an honest confession. “I umm I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Friendship was one thing, but love? That threw her completely off balance.

“Feel? Felt? What does it matter anymore? Clearly, it’s not like it’s reciprocated.” He scoffed, back the mask of bravado and not caring, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it.

“It matters to me.” Her brows furrowed. “It matters a great deal to me. Why do you think I did what I did, exactly? Because it’s fun? Because I enjoy blocks of buildings dropping down on me? Because it’s such an absolute delight to realise - if I don’t push you out of the way, you will be in direct line of fire, and I might lose you?”

Astarion’s mouth opened and closed. “I didn’t – I –“

“No!” Y/N pointed an accusatory finger at him. Now she was angry. “You don’t get to play the "I'm in love with you" card and be angry with me. Not if you dare tell me how I feel without asking first!”

“You...” He shook his head, a crease to his brow. “You never indicated you held anything more than… friendly affections towards me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Yes, because I let everyone in this party use me as their personal snack each night. I’d say that should’ve been your first clue.”

“I’d say you’re a full-course meal, my darling, but I understand the sentiment.” And though back was his usual air of sarcasm, a deep vulnerability could be seen shining in his crimson eyes as he weaved a gentle hand to wrap around the small of her waist, brushing underneath her sleep tunic to rest against her skin.

Cold met warm, and Y/N gasped as a shiver ran down her spine. His slender fingers dug into her back as he pulled Y/N closer, their breaths mingling, and if they only moved just a couple of centimetres, lips would touch.

“I just – I cannot stand and watch you throw your life away for someone like me. The thought of your brightness being extinguished because of it… I couldn’t bear it.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Someone like who exactly? Someone who I’ve grown to look at as my dearest confidant? Someone who I know will always tell me the truth and be there if I cannot handle it? Or someone who so deftly has stolen my heart, he cannot even comprehend it’s been his the whole time? Besides, even if it wasn’t reciprocated...” She played with the string of his shirt, “you can’t tell me to be more careful, to not save you when you do the exact same thing.”

“How can I not?” Astarion’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and for once, he seemed to want the moment to reflect what truly lay in his soul. “You make my heart beat on its own. If I had to give up walking in the sun for the rest of my life, I would. As long as it meant you were safe and happy. I’d even gladly go back to Cazador if you were on the line. Without a second to spare.”

“Don’t you dare fucking say that!"

“But it’s true.”

“Not if I can help it,” Y/N grumbled, tightening her hold on his shirt by his hips, pulling him closer like she had to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. “He’s not ever going to get near you. I’ll level the whole of Baldur’s Gate if I have to.”

“And I am being honest when I say, if I had to choose between you being unhurt or me being imprisoned, being used as I was, I would always put you first.”

Y/N was on the verge of tears. “You listen to me you pompous blood-sucking elf – you will do no such thing. Whatever comes, we both will get through it. And Cazador will have his head ripped from his shoulders, but not before I gouge his eyes out, and do every single vile thing he did to you back onto him. I will skin him alive and then throw him in a tomb with nothing but cockroaches. Let him drink his own blood and see how he likes it.” She shuddered, taking in a deep breath. “Your life is not worth less than mine. Don’t you ever dare think that way.”

A watery chuckle escaped Astarion, and his eyes brimmed with silvery tears. “Can I kiss you?” He didn’t dare lift his gaze, focusing on their intertwined fingers, resting against where his heart no doubt would have been rattling a crazy rhythm if it still beat.

“If you want to.” Y/N’s reply was as quiet as his question had been, but there was no teasing in her tone.

His eyes flashed for a second, but she didn’t get a full grasp on what it was she saw. Maybe surprise. Maybe gratitude? She couldn’t tell really, all she knew was that the emotion caused a pang to ring to her very core. She’d kill Cazador with her own bloody hands.

“I want it.” He nodded. “More than anything.”

“More than my blood? That first night you almost drained me dry,” Y/N’s words, though true, held no malice, only gentle teasing.

“And how do you know that first time I wasn’t trying to wake up the sleeping princess with a magical true love’s kiss? The feeding just ended up being a bonus.” He brushed her nose with his, and couldn’t help the way his own lips turned up as Y/N smiled.

“Well, this sleeping princess would’ve punched you in the nose, had you awoken her for such silly things. Besides, you did miss my lips.”

Astarion chuckled, relishing the way her body pressed against his. “But I am allowed to awaken you to drink from you?”

“Well...” She nudged his nose with hers now. “Seeing as you become absolutely unbearable when hungry, I think for my own peace and everyone else’s, that does count as a vital reason to rouse me."

Gentle hands cupped her cheeks. “Allow me to demonstrate then how vital a kiss can be to one’s survival.”

And then their lips met.

She’d never admit it out loud, for his ego would surely grow larger than it already was, but it did feel like a magical kiss of life. Her whole body sang as his fingers slid against the nape of her neck, pulling her closer, almost like Astarion was afraid she’d pull back, but she could never. Not when he slipped his tongue past her lips, and her knees almost crumbled.

Y/N had to tighten her hold on his waist to not completely lose it, and she could feel the smirk growing on the vampire’s face, as he realised just how incapacitated his kiss had made her. He nipped at the bottom of her lip and relished in the small whimper he got to devour.

After what felt like ages, they pulled back, panting, but not going too far as Astarion rested his forehead against hers.

Y/N smiled. “True love’s kiss you say?”

“It feels like it,” he mumbled, allowing himself to indulge in the tender touch of her fingers skimming up and down his back. “Though I don’t know much about… love… I’d like to experience it with you. All of it. The good and the bad that might come with it.”

“I’ll be here,” Y/N promised. “As long as you want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

“And if I ask for forever?”

She let out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Forever’s quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“Not long enough,” Astarion replied, a smile tugging up his lips. “It’d never be long enough with you.”

Y/N quirked a brow. “Is that a challenge?”

He chuckled at that. “I’d say it’s more of a promise, if anything.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

“Deal, my love.”

Tags:

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird

A/N: my tags are always open, so just drop a message if you want to be tagged :)

P.S. do not plagiarise my work or repost it on other platforms!!!

[fuzybby]

Jealousy

Gale x F! Reader

Synopsis: Gale's jealousy gets the better of him, for lack of better words.

CW: possessive language. creampie and talk of creampie. rough sex. mage hand.

It was a harmless compliment.

A nice, “You look ravishing today” thrown towards the cold blooded vampire that set your love's jealousy aflame.

So now, here you are, trapped underneath Gale as your hands are held high above your head with a mage hand, sinking further into the lush bed as he ruts into you like an animal.

He had put his hair up in a half bun, only the small pieces of hair right at the bottom spilled out from behind his shoulders, cascading down towards you. You watched as a single bead of sweat trickled down his neck, wishing that you could lick it and taste him.

Turning his head up to the ceiling, his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth came open in a silent moan. You watched his Adam's apple bob and wished you could move even just slightly so you could drag your teeth against it.

But with his hands holding your waist down, and the mage hand on your own hands, you were secured to the bed. The hot bed with slick sheets. You try to arch your back to get it to cool down, the bed underneath you only providing more heat than you can handle.

“Gale,” You sighed, your voice high pitched as a certain thrust left you breathless.

“Hm?” He answered, tilting his head back down to watch your expression.

Your face continued to twist into pleasure as you tried to find the words you were looking for. “It’s hot.” Was all you could come up with.

Gale smirked, slowing down his pace slightly. “I know I am, baby.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, one that was quickly replaced by a whine. “No, no no, the bed, the bed is hot.”

Gale hummed, almost too quiet for you to hear. He took his cock out of you slowly before flipping you over, bringing your hips up so only your chest and head were on the bed. “Better?” He asked sincerely.

You nodded your head, holding onto the sheets above your head as your body got used to this new position, your back was now finally hit with some cool air.

You whine, feeling your lover re enter you from behind. He doesn't start slow, he continues the fast pace he was at originally.

“Slow down,” You huff, wanting to move your arms and grab at him. Wishing to touch your handsome wizard. He's never been this rough with you before, always wanting to keep it slow and sensual.

“Don't tell me what to do.” He responds sternly, grabbing a fistfull of your hair to hold. “I am doing this because you are mine, you belong to me and me only.”

“Yours.” You whisper, splitting into a fucked out grin as you are reminded that you are his, and he is yours.

Gale groans from behind you, letting go of your hair to hold back onto your waist. “I am the only one who shall fill your heart, and fill your pretty cunt with cum.”

His thrusts are merciless, and you can feel his balls smack against your clit every time he pushes back in. Concentrating hard enough, your thighs begin to shake as an orgasm starts to climb its way through you.

“I'm gonna cum,” You moan, gripping the sheets tightly as your whole body tenses. Your orgasm rips through you, coursing your veins as you scream into the sheets below you. Your body writhes and shakes, your toes curl as pleasure takes over your entire being.

Your wizard groans, clearly happy with the show you've put on for him.

“Should I cum inside you my dear? Have you earned it?” He taunts, digging his nails into your flesh.

“Yes! Yes please! I'm yours and only yours!” You cry, throwing your hips back to meet his never ending thrusts. Overstimulation keeps your body tense.

Gale smirks, and gives your ass a small and gentle pat, “Good girl.” He says.

Letting out his own moans of pleasure, his own orgasm approaches quickly. Emptying his thick load inside of you as he doubles over, biting your shoulder to try and muffle some of his own noises.

Finally coming to, he lets go. Letting you fall limp to the bed as his soft cock falls out of you.

Gale chuckles, “Sorry.” He sighs. His eyes lingering on all of the lovebites he has given you.

“That was probably the best orgasm I've ever had.” You laugh, closing your eyes with a smile.

“Glad to be of service.” The wizard smiles.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

[corpsebasil]

Karma Part 3

Ghostface is her protector, but maybe more than that.

Your relationship had grown from tentative friendship leading into more, to full blown dating.

You’d never had so much fun as you did with Ethan. He liked to buy you flowers ‘just because’ which never failed to make you smile. When doing homework together he’d reach over and draw a tiny heart in your notebook, then pretend he didn’t know he’d done it. He was a terrible cook but, to your delight, he’d taken up baking rather quickly, and fumbled through the kitchen with you as you taught him the basics.

Just a few days ago you both had gotten drunk and played Just Dance. Rasputin was his go to and lord the man could move. You’d almost fell backwards onto the ground when you’d attempted the squat jump movement he easily copied, and you’d both laughed, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.

But then there were the more intimate moments.

The moments when he’d prop his head on your shoulder when you were with your friends, or when he’d hold your hand, almost constantly. And the kissing… You’d never gone farther than just that, although you wanted to. But you happily settled for the nights when he’d kiss you until you thought you’d pass out, the whispers between the two of you lost in the dark.

And the first time he told you he loved you, kissing you slowly on the couch, you felt so filled to the brim with emotion you almost embarrassed yourself by crying. You only ran your hands through his hair, murmuring the words back, and allowed him to run a hand up the bare skin of your thigh.

But then Ghostface called you.

You were in your room, playing Solitaire on your laptop, when your phone buzzed.

“Babe? That you?”

“It can be, if that’s what you want.” Ghostface teased, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at your mouth.

“Very funny.” You told him, standing up to examine your apartment. “But I’m happily taken. If you’re here, though, maybe you can give me some knife lessons. I’d like to know how to defend myself.”

“As much fun as that would be,” the killer said, his tone amused. “I’m not there. But you need to listen to me.”

You paused, clutching the phone a bit tighter.

“What is it, Ghostie?”

“It’s—” you heard a male laugh and grinned. You didn’t want to admit it—would never admit it to anyone—but you’d found yourself waiting for him to come back. His jokes, his protectiveness…you could use that in a friend. Not that you would tell anyone that you found a serial killer worthy of friendship. “Ghostie? Really?”

You laughed and could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Sure, laugh away, pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find it hilarious when I’m the one that has to save your ass once again.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled, ignoring the blush that rose on your face at his words. You had a boyfriend damnit. “So what do you want? I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasure call.”

“Gale Weathers is going to be carved up in about twenty minutes, by my guess.” He deadpanned, and you stilled. “My…cohort, if you will, is on their way. If you want to help her, like you’ve said you do, then go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why would you help me?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve gone out of your way to save me multiple times now. Why?”

“Let’s call it an investment.” He said, and you bristled a bit. “Take it as a compliment, baby. I’m not letting you go just yet.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, but your mind was racing back to Gale as you grabbed your purse and slid your shoes on. “I’m headed there. No fucking jump scares or I might hit you. My boyfriend’s been teaching me a bit of self defense.”

Your feet were loud on the stairs as you rushed out of the complex, headed to your car. You barely used the thing as you preferred walking, but today was an emergency.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Ghostface asked, his tone practically seductive as you drove out of the parking lot towards Gale’s place. “Ethan, is it?”

“Yes.” You purred. “How’d you know?”

“Tall, incredibly good looking? How could I not?”

You paused.

Your thoughts seemed to glitch at that response, your reply a bit too long for comfort. What in the—

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way I’ll—I’ll see you there.”

“Y/N, wait—”

You hung up, your breathing uneven as you glanced down momentarily at the blocked caller ID. The gears were turning in your brain, slowly, as you tried to think. There was something nagging you, something not right about Ghostface. Something familiar.

You blinked, shoving away any insane thoughts, and screeched into Gale’s parking lot minutes later.

-

You were terrified.

You’d never been so scared for your life, not when you’d been with Gale, urging the reporter to leave and call police. Not when Ghostface had thrown Gale’s boyfriend, dead, to the floor. You backed away, rushing to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

Gale was fighting—Gale was the main target here, not you. And the worst part was, you knew in your gut that this wasn’t your Ghostface. This person would gladly kill you, and would have no remorse.

You were paralyzed. Paralyzed as Gale stormed back into the living-room with a gun, her phone to her ear. You stared with wide eyes as she motioned for you to duck down behind the kitchen island, hiding yourself from sight. You felt your chest growing tight. It was just like before—just like before when you’d been cornered with nowhere else to go.

Gale hung up, putting the Ghostface on hold, of all things, and after a few seconds of tense silence you heard a phone ring. You covered your ears with your hands as shots fired, and then Gale was screaming, and you were shaking so bad you thought you might puke.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to be a coward, not now, not ever, so you stood, picking up a ceramic dinner plate and hurling it at Ghostface’s head. It slammed into them just before it could stab Gale again, and you threw another, then another. The last one missed and you ran, screaming as the Ghostface—god they were fast—chased you down.

You ran, but not fast enough, not when they slashed out at you and tore a gash through your arm. You shrieked, stumbling, and knocked a chair in their path as you searched for anywhere to hide.

And then there was only you, and the corner of the room, and no where to go.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch.” Ghostface snarled, flipping their knife in their hand.

You threw your hands up, as if that would stop it, when a loud cracking sound filled the space as the locked door banged open.

You knew who it was—could feel it in your gut as you saw him sprint for the person holding a knife towards you.

Ethan was Ghostface.

He was Ghostface. The one who’d been saving you this entire time. You’d wondered, absentmindedly, but knew for sure, right then, when he’d launched himself in front of the second Ghostface, tearing across the room to tackle whoever was behind the other mask.

You screamed as you cowered in the corner, watching as he and the other Ghostface rolled on the floor, he attempting to restrain them, them fighting back. They were yelling at each other, so loud you could barely make out what they were saying. But then the other Ghostface shoved him off and ran, sprinting out the door as fast as they could.

Ethan turned to you, breathing hard, the white of his mask catching the light. You moved forward, only a step; he was Ghostface. A killer. But you loved him. You loved him.

You stepped forward as your mouth wobbled, tears falling down your face as you moved to him. He was trembling, breathing hard, as you pulled his mask off and looked at him. His expression was one of agony and sorrow, shaking his head slowly at you as if to convey words he didn’t have.

He didn’t need to.

You kissed him, tugging him down to you by the black robes you’d grown used to, had grown to trust, and he let out a low, anguished noise into your mouth. Ethan was crying when you pulled away, his head dropping to your shoulder as he he clutched you to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, squeezing you tighter when you looped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I wanted to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You swallowed roughly, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten at the moment. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I tried to protect you. I wanted you safe I never should’ve asked you to come here—”

“Ethan, look at me.” He did, pulling his head back, and you grasped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his own. “I love you, E. I trust you, okay? We’re gonna find a way to get you out of this—”

“Still bleeding over here.” Gale called out to you both, and you turned. You were surprised she’d survived. “As creepily touching as this is.”

“Ethan, call an ambulance.” You told him, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before whispering, “and get the Hell out of here. Fast.”

He nodded and bolted, already pulling out his phone, as you dropped beside Gale and helped put pressure on her wound.

-

The second you were cleared by the medics, a gauzy bandage wrapped around your arm, you got to your apartment as fast as you physically could. Ethan was already there, putting clothes and other objects of yours into a suitcase. You gaped at him and shut the front door, locking it behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.” He said, still focused on his work.

“Ethan what—what are you talking about?”

“The theater,” he looked up at you, eyes slightly crazed. “It’s a trap.” He gestured to the bag. “We’ll get you on a bus or a plane or something.”

“Ethan I am not leaving you.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He cursed, standing up and crossing the room. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then pulled back. “Please let me get you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’d rather die than see something happen to you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his brow furrowed as he sighed, holding you close. He ran a hand over your hair and pressed his lips your temple, and you could feel Ethan’s heart racing through the shirt he now wore.

“At least..at least put some things in my backpack. Just in case.” You could hear his uneven breathing and you slid your hands to his neck, holding him tighter. Then his chest heaved, and you felt a drop of wetness against your face. “I cant watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die. We’re both going to be fine.” You promised, and kissed him. “Ghostie.”

He held you tight as a half-hearted laugh left him, holding you so close you could feel almost every inch of him. And then he was lifting you, carrying you to your room, where he laid with you on the bed, kissing you and running his hands over your skin.

“I love you.” He murmured, lips soft on your own, and you held him tight, desperate to have him here with you for the little time you had left.

stg there’s only ONE PART LEFT BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE TO REBLOG FOLLOW AND COMMENT for PART FOURRRR

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[cupid-luv]

The Green Ribbon by @cupid-luv

The Green Ribbon, located in the Arts Quarter in San Myshuno has been the talk of the town. This restaurant has been opened for not too long and has been a hit for everyone of all ages. This exquisite restaurant has so many delicious meals served with the best drinks in town. All is welcome to have a night out with your friends, family or significant other for any occasion. The Modern architecture with dark toned colors and much greenery has been placed in such a beautiful city. Come on down to The Green Ribbon and enjoy a high class meal with a high class view.

Thank you to all of the CC/Mod content creators. This build would not be possible without any of you guys! P.S first time uploading a build and adding cc links. Please let me know if you're missing anything and I'm more than happy to help or redirect you to the proper cc! @harrie-cc @pierisim @felixandresims @littledica @joyceisfox @tuds @myshunosun @ophernelia

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[astarioffsimpmain]

Cushioned Affections

Gale x Astarion x F!Tav

Warnings: Poly relationship discussion; insecurity; mention of past relationship abuse

Synopsis: Tav is tired of waiting for Astarion to make his move, so she allows Gale to make his first. But will that put an end to her and her favorite vampire spawn?

Author's Note: I'm a day late, I know, but this fic is for the BG3 Holiday Fluffle 2023, hosted by @justporo with the prompt "Getting Cozy"!

The chill that had settled over many of your nights in the last few months was slowly creeping its way into your days, infiltrating you and your motley crew through brisk winds that could cut through any armor and lay clothes, chilling you all to your very bones. The campfire became the favorite place of every one of your traveling companions - even Astarion, who usually preferred to observe the group’s frivolities from the entrance of his tent. But this evening, the aloof vampire had firmly wedged himself between you and your resident wizard, Gale, on one of the logs in front of the roaring flames. 

“There’s a perfectly clear spot next to Lae’zel, you know.” Gale mumbled, clearly unhappy with the current seating arrangements. 

“That seat could get me decapitated and I personally prefer to keep such beauty soundly attached, thank you very much.” Astarion replied haughtily, turning his nose up at the wizard’s suggestion before scooting closer to you, affronted. 

“Rightly assumed, spawn.” Lae’zel spat, not so much as glancing up from her soup bowl.

“Hah!” Astarion exclaimed triumphantly, sending a taunting expression Gale’s way as he wrapped his shawl tighter around his already cold body. 

“Well, I’m very glad you’ve joined us tonight, Stari.” you said, opening your arm to him and allowing him to snuggle close, a relieved sigh escaping his lips as your warmth enveloped him. “And Gale, thank you so much for the wonderful meal. I always forget I'm sleeping on the ground when you fix your soup.” 

The compliment settled in Gale’s cheeks as they tinged pink and a smile graced his lips for the first time since Astarion had forced the two of you apart. “Why thank you, Tav.” he sent a charming smile your way over the mess of white curls between you. “You flatter me too much.” 

“Yes, she does.” Lae’zel replied curtly, although she made no effort to hide her empty bowl. 

“Nah, this shit’s awesome, Gale.” Karlach piped up, already filling up her bowl for the third time. “Anybody need a warm-up?” 

“Me, if you would, Karlach.” Shadowheart passed her bowl across the fire to the tiefling, who grabbed it enthusiastically and held it between her palms as the flames beneath her skin crackled and popped to life for a few seconds before simmering down again. The contents of the bowl were now steaming as Karlach passed it back over to Shadowheart, who let out a pleased groan when the warmth hit her fingertips. 

“Thank you all.” Gale said, a pleased smile on his lips. “I’m glad I could deliver a measure of culinary satisfaction to our treacherously meager living accommodations.” 

“Darling, just say “thank you for the dick-stroking” and be done with it.” Astarion drawled, his eyes having lazily fallen closed once your fingers had wound their way into his hair. 

“I’ll have you know,” Gale’s voice rose as he spoke over Karlach and Shadowheart who had burst out laughing., “My honed verbosity is one of the most prevalent things that earned me a place as one of the most well-respected voices of wisdom in Waterdeep, and beyond.” 

“Oh yes, it was your tongue; of that I’m certain.” Astarion murmured, half asleep, and you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep the giggle from escaping as Karlach and Shadowheart descended into fits of cackling once again, while Lae’zel allowed the ghost of a smile to cross her lips. You even noticed Wyll choking back a chuckle over his soup. 

Gale shook his head disapprovingly, and you thought things may have gone too far until an amused smile crept across the wizard’s face and he shot you a quick glance with mirth dancing in his eyes. You smiled back at him, the chill of the evening all but melted away in the presence of your unlikely group of friends. 

After the fire had long since died, and many of your companions had retired to their own bedrolls in the shelter of their tents, you helped Gale clean up around the campfire, stacking bowls in on each other - deciding to wait for the warmth of the sun before taking them to the river to wash them out - and gathering the extra blankets to hoard for personal use. 

Astarion sat idly by, book in hand, while you both worked, only looking up from the pages and stretching languidly when you paused in front of him. “Well, darling, are you ready to hide away and curl up in our own little cocoon for the evening?” he cooed, batting his long eyelashes at you demurely. 

“Come on, Astarion, just say you’re desperate for a cuddle and be done with it.” Gale appeared over your shoulder smiling, pleased to have been given the chance to throw the words back in the vampire’s face. 

“Actually,” you stepped in front of Gale and swatted at him playfully. “Gale’s got a new volume of that Dark Elf tales I’ve been reading as of late, and he wanted to read a few chapters with me before we went our separate ways. Would you like to join us? I know how much you enjoy those stories.”

Astarion chortled dismissively, rolling his eyes. “I think I’d prefer freezing to death than getting anywhere near the “wizard of Waterdeep”’s personal stash.” 

You sighed, shrugging your shoulders and turning away. “Your choice. I’ll see you back in my tent afterwards either way. Although,” you pause, flipping your hair over your shoulder to match his dramatics. “It will be much warmer in Gale’s tent because we currently have all of the extra blankets. I do hope you’ll reconsider.” you teased, mimicking the vampire’s tonal lilt as you hoisted a few of the remaining blankets over your shoulder and walked off. In a few long strides, you caught up with Gale, who was struggling with his own bundle of blankets. 

“Do you think he’ll drop by?” his voice came out muffled, his face fully blocked from your vision by a mountain of fluff.

A giggle bubbled out of you, and you patted some of the blankets away from his eyes. A muffled “thank you” reached your ears. “I don’t know, but I hope so. I do wish he didn’t keep to himself so often; he shouldn’t be alone. But he has to choose to let in the warmth himself - and not just mine.” Gale nodded quietly - a rare occurrence - and led the way to his tent. 

You were ceaselessly amazed by the sheer number of books Gale Dekarios was able to keep with him; shelves upon shelves lined with volumes - everything from A Comprehensive History of Waterdeep to The Practicality of Learning the Weave and more - just waiting to dazzle you with the wonders inside. However, the books that caught your eye were front and center, at a perfect height for you - done intentionally, you had no doubt - was the Dark Elf trilogy, finally completed with a stunning hardback edition of Sojourn with a beautifully crafted image of the drow himself gracing the book jacket. 

“Gods, Gale, wherever did you find it?” you murmured softly, stroking the spine tenderly. 

"Ah, a wizard never reveals his secrets. But let’s just say, I do still have some influence in some of the cities we’ve passed through thus far, and was able to get my hands on a nice copy, just for you."

You clutched the book to your chest, beaming up at him from where you stood. "Thank you, Gale. Shall we read?" His heart skipped a beat, he thought, as he nodded and sat down amidst his pile of pillows and blankets and you settled in between his legs, your back pressing warmly against his chest as his arms wrapped around your front before his mind could even catch up with him. 

“Are- are you sure you and Astarion are just friends?” the words slipped from his lips and he cringed at himself, a large part of him fearing the question would bring you to your senses and he’d lose this intimate connection he’d found with you.

“No, I’m not.” you admitted softly and his heart dropped into his stomach, his arms wrapping tighter around you in anticipation of the loss. “But I’ve told him that I have feelings for you too, and I’ve told him that while I’m patient enough to wait for him, he needs to tell me to wait for him before I will. I’ve…” you paused, sniffling a little as the emotions welled up inside of you. “I’ve had my heart broken a lot by being led on, or by waiting for people who, in the end, chose someone else; someone more-” 

“Hey, shhh don’t do that.” Gale whispered in your ear, planting a chaste kiss there and squeezing you tight. “You’re plenty enough as you are, alright?” You nodded, breathing deep before continuing.

“I told him how much I care for him, and how much I’d like to have more with him. But I was also honest and told him how much I care for you, so I’ll tell you what I told him. If you need time, tell me to wait for you. Hopefully you’ll listen.” you mumbled the last part so softly that Gale could have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention. But your words, your touch, your presence was his whole world right now, and he couldn’t possibly miss the sadness and longing left hanging in the air once you fell quiet. 

“Well… I hope he’ll come around soon. But in the meantime, I don’t need to wait. I know my answer right now.” he murmured against your ear, reveling in the shudder that traveled the length of your spine in his hold. You turned your head just enough to lock your penetrating gaze with his, waiting for him to say the words. You wouldn’t settle for interpretations; not any longer. “I care for you, greatly, Tav. And if you find it in that beautiful heart of yours to save a place for me, I’d gladly reside there for the rest of my days.” 

“Gale,” you whispered, your eyes clouding over with unshed tears of relief that flooded you like a sudden storm. He caught the emotions with his lips on yours, alleviating some of the weight of the emotional burdens that you had carried with you for all too long, and a sob escaped into his mouth. He swallowed the pain and lapped it up with his eager tongue, desperate to comfort your aching soul as his hands explored your body. You moaned softly into the kiss before pulling away, a little giggle leaving your lips as you nuzzled into his neck. You bit your bottom lip, your smile threatening to overtake the rest of your face as Gale's hands ran the lengths of your arms and back. "We're supposed to be reading." You chuckled, and Gale’s own laughter rumbled through your body in response. 

"Then let us read, my sweet." He pressed a kiss to your temple and plucked the book from your hands, opening it to the first page before conjuring a few mage hands to do the rest while he wound his arms tightly back around you and began to read aloud. 

You had enjoyed several chapters of the book together when a shadow moving outside caught your attention. You silenced Gale with a hand held in the air, your body tensing as you reached for your sword. 

"Uhm… hello?"

The soft, tentative voice coming through the flap had your muscles relaxing immediately. "Astarion," you exhaled in relief and pulled the tent flap open. He stood there in little more than his ruffled undershirt and pants, shivering ever so slightly from the cold; his eyes a catastrophic blend of hope, fear, and vulnerability as they locked onto you. "Oh gods, Stari, come in here, you're freezing!" You fussed worriedly, opening your arms to him like you so often did, and you didn't miss the sudden ease of his sharp facial features as he gave in to your embrace, pulled to it like a moth to a flame, and settled into your arms like he belonged there. He did belong there. 

You walked backwards, enough to seal the tent flap behind the elf, before your fingers found his curls as they always did, and he sighed happily as you scratched his scalp. He nuzzled closer to you, his icy cold nose finding a home in the nape of your neck as you calmed him. "I'm so glad you came." You mumbled into his hair and he merely hummed in response, pulling you flush against him and trailing his hands up and down your spine. After several quiet moments of quiet repose in each other's arms, you pulled back enough to look Astarion in the eyes. 

"I-" He spluttered, his gaze flicking to Gale then back to you. "I really wanted to get a look at this book of yours, Gale. As Tav said, I enjoy the dark drow stories myself." He brushed some wrinkles out of his white shirt awkwardly and you took the opportunity to shoot Gale a deadly glare. Play along, it said. Or else.

"Of course." Gale chirped, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Well, it truly is a beauty, isn't it Tav?"

"Definitely." You smiled in silent thanks and reached for Astarion's hand, pressing the pad of a finger into one of his and allowing him to do the rest. "Come on. We're on chapter 5, but I'll give you a summary of what's happened so far." You sat down beside Gale, and Astarion beside you, and you launched into the details of what Astarion had missed in the first five chapters, forgetting the world around you and all of its present dangers: the tadpoles, the mindflayers, the Absolute, all of it, and diving into the adventure yet again. Gale glanced over at the new visitor in his tent, initially with dubiosity; he'd had no intention of sharing you if that's what it came down to. However, his resolve wavered ever so slightly once he took in the vampire’s face as he looked at you. Gale didn't know Astarion could even look like that: his features softened, the harsh lines and wrinkles missing from his pale face, and his eyes wide with wonder and- Gale paused, realization slamming into him at full force as the vermillion glint of the vampire's eyes in the candlelight revealed his secrets. Gale recognized that look. It was the same look he had in his eyes when he looked at you. 

Love. 

And as he watched, Gale saw the same look in your eyes, no matter which man they were trained upon. "Godsdamn it." He thought. "What in the hells am I going to do?" 

"That's all that's happened so far." You clapped your hands together as you finished catching Astarion up. "Shall we continue?" You turned your head to Gale who said nothing, only nodded and prepared to cast another set of Mage Hands. 

"W-wait, for a moment." Astarion stopped him hesitantly. "I'd- well, I'd like to say something first, Tav." 

"Oh, of course." You looked back at him, your eyes wide and curious. 

"I've been thinking about this for awhile, but I never really knew how to put it into words. However, I- ugh this is so ridiculously awkward with the wizard here too." He buried his face in his hands. 

"I can leave for a moment if you-"

"Gods. No, it involves you, sit down." Astarion huffed, waving his hand in Gale's direction. 

"Very well." Gale remained as he was, perched precariously on a pillow, his full attention on the vampire spawn. 

"I've realized lately that, that I've never had someone who cares for me before - not that I can remember, anyway. And no one that could possibly measure up to you." He said the words to your fingers, which he had wrapped up in his own and was fiddling with tenderly in his lap. "I don't want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you so, even when you told me how. It didn't feel quite right, it didn't fit. But I can say it now." He tilted his head up and met your eyes steadily. "I care for you, Tav. I- I need time to process whatever this is between us. But I don't want you to think I don't want you, because I do. And, if that package comes with a certain pompous wizard," he leveled Gale with a humored smirk. "Then I believe I could be alright with that arrangement. As long as he plays by the same rules we do, that is." 

Gale shot you a quizzical look. "You have to be patient and respect all of his boundaries." You explained, and Gale’s face fell into a sorrowful understanding. 

"Of course I would respect your wishes, Astarion. I may be the victim of some over-active hubris, a wildly inconvenient condition, and an intellect much larger than my single head can contain, but I am not a man without respect and understanding." 

"So… by all of that you mean yes." Astarion quipped and Gale chuckled. 

"Yes, Astarion, I mean yes." 

"Wait, hold on a moment." You sat up on your knees between them, looking back and forth at the two men you'd come to love so much, settling on the wizard. "Gale, are you saying you'd be alright with a 3 person relationship? I didn’t know that was something you'd ultimately agree to." 

"No definite answers yet. I'm working on it. Much like Astarion, the thought of being without you is slowly proving too much to bear. And perhaps having you around won't be too bad in the end, Astarion." 

"Oh thank you kindly for those inspiring compliments, Gale." Astarion rolled his eyes, but the growing smile on his lips told the truth of his thoughts on the matter, and you squeezed his hand with a sudden giddiness. 

"Anytime." Gale made a mock bow before sitting back down in the mess of pillows. "Now, are we going to read or shall I kick you both back out into the cold?" His mage hands appeared and he handed them the book. 

"You wouldn't!" You gasped playfully, scooting closer to him.

"Yes, yes, you're right, I wouldn't. Come here, both of you. If you're going to see the drawings you'd better get close." You resumed your place between Gale's legs and opened your arms to Astarion, who crawled in between yours and curled up against your chest like a cat, his head resting on your shoulder, glancing up at the book every now and again to admire the artwork, then planting tender kisses along your jawline before settling back into you. 

After several chapters more and an hour had gone by, Astarion purred softly against your chest while Gale rubbed your arm with one hand and Astarion's back with the other. Your hands were where they often found purchase - amidst soft white curls that were as light as air to your touch - , massaging small circles on the elf's head as he dozed, and you didn’t know how you could possibly be happier. You sighed blissfully, allowing your eyes to finally fall closed. 

"Goodnight Gale, goodnight Astarion." You mumbled, already halfway gone. 

"Goodnight, Tav." Gale whispered in your ear as you faded into a euphoric sleep, curled up between the men you loved; the men who loved you; the men who could possibly one day learn to love each other.

[meow-meowism]

BG3 male companions and doing your hair

I had this idea stuck in my head for ages, and I finally have the willpower to write them! I wrote this with a GN! Tav with long hair in mind but if enough people like this I will write for Tavs who have short hair!!!! Also do not worry I will write for the fem companions soon!!! If you find any mistakes pls let me know this is my first non-request post 🥲🥲🥲 (No pronouns other than you)

Gale Dekarios

Gale doesn't know how he got lucky enough to meet you. Whenever he is reminded that his adoration, his devotion, his love for you is reciprocated he feels like the orb in his chest might just blow up from the rush of emotion that hits him. When you ask him to help wash and braid your hair he has to fight the urge to crush you in his embrace, settling instead on a eager yes. He met you by the side of the river close to camp and was met with the sight of you already half submerged in the water, turning to look at him at the sound of his approaching footsteps.

"And here I was starting to think I was being stood up." You teased, turning back to focus again on working some knots in your hair.

"Perish the thought! As if I would ever break a promise to my Polaris." Gale begins to remove his clothes, stepping into the water and immediately reaching out to help you with the knots.

The two of you sat in silence as you both worked to untangle the knots gently from your hair, and once that was done you took turns washing each others hair and bodies (with surprisingly little heated touches). Once you're both dry and clothed back on land you tug him to your tent where you sit down and begin to work oils into your hair, Once you are done you beckon him to sit behind you. He eagerly sits, giddily taking the band you hand him as he gathers your hair.

"Now my love, forgive me if there any imperfections in the braid I'm afraid I haven't had the joy of braiding anyone's hair before. And do tell me if I pull anything!"

After that you two sit in comfortable silence as he slowly and meticulously braids the sections of your hair together, with only a couple sharp intakes of breath and winces. Once he finishes tying the band to the end of your hair he is quick to project an image of you so you can see the braid properly.

"Oh Gale it's wonderful! Are you sure you haven't done this before?" You question as you turn your head from side to side, admiring the braid before turning around to look at the man behind you.

"I assure you, you are my first. In more ways than one." He says as he dismisses the image, raising a hand to your cheek as he places a kiss to your forehead.

Any other time you would take this as an innuendo, but you can feel how innocent the statement is. Knowing that he means such things as giving him the love he pours out back to him, seeing him as the wonderful man he is and not just Mystras chosen, adoring him as Gale Dekarios. You smile sweetly as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, and then his lips.

You'll have to try braiding his hair sometime.

Wyll Ravengard

Wyll thinks that if he could do it all over again, change not his path in life but who had set him on it, he would choose you. If he couldn't have you as a mortal, he would have you as his patron. He would sign the worst contract, everything weighed in your favor, if it meant being able to spend even a moment in your presence. But you are mortal, and you are here with him and he will never take that for granted. When you ask him to help wash and braid your hair he has to stop himself from falling to his knees in worship, opting instead for taking your hand and laying a kiss upon it as a form of agreeance. When he meets you by the river near the camp and finds you already in the water carefully detangling the knots in your hair he is quick to remove his clothes and come to assist.

"Come now my love, I know you have a hard time with the ones in back. Please, allow me." He says softly as his hands join yours in attempting to untangle a particularly stubborn knot.

Working it out of your hair is slow work, but once it is gone he is free to help you wash your hair and vice versa. Throughout the simple and welcomed task of washing yourselves he is always sure to leave a chaste kiss to your cheeks or your lips, never seeking for more than to convey how you make his heart sing. Once you both have washed away all the sweat and blood you make your way to your clothes on dry land, wringing the water out of your hair gently. Wyll grabs your hand and guides you to his tent where he pulls out a small bag of oils, setting them out for you to choose from.

"These are ones I use myself, so I can guarantee that they are only the best." Wyll provides as explanation, moving behind you to begin splitting your hair into sections to make applying the oil easier.

"Wyll, my love, you don't have to-" "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Indulge me and let me be your prince, please?" He says lovingly, placing a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades.

You cannot help but huff fondly and let a small alright fall from your lips as you lift a lavender oil and hand it to him before turning back around. He smiles at your choice.

"Lavender? Good to know we have similar tastes then. Tell me if anything hurts alright?" Wyll then begins to braid your hair, murmuring soft questions and stories to you as he carefully but efficiently works. Through it all you feel him braiding a trinket or two into your hair. Once he's done he hands you a small mirror and picks up one of his own, angling it just right so you could see the beautiful braids and the golden bands he had managed to weave into the strands.

"Oh Wyll...it's beautiful, all of it. Thank you for this, truly." You carefully set the mirror to the side, placing an adoring kiss to his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Of course, anything for the one I adore." He murmurs this lovingly into your hair, wrapping you up in his arms as he lays you both down on his bedroll.

Perhaps you could ask him to let you braid his hair next time.

Astarion Ancunin

Astarion was still getting used to being touched with no ulterior motive. You were always careful to keep your touches in chaste areas, even asking before touching anywhere in general, and it took him a while to become comfortable with it but he was getting better at asking to initiate simple things like holding hands or cuddling. He knew he adored you, no matter how afraid he was to admit that to anyone, and was grateful that you were patient. So when you approached looking shy, quietly asking if he would help wash and braid your hair, how could he say no to you?

When he made his way to the river near camp, he found you already in the water.

"Already naked an in the water, darling? Without me? I'm hurt." He pouted, the playfulness in his tone evident. He chuckled a little as he watched you practically jump out of the water.

"Astarion! I'm already cold don't scare me like that!" You huffed, turning back to face the water as you untangled the knots from your hair.

He laughed at that, beginning to undress and climb into the water with you. He had brought his own basket of oils and soaps (because he wanted to make sure everyone knew it was him who had helped you) and set it on a rock nearby.

You tilted your head towards, but you didn't fully turn around. Your voice was small, yet sincere when you spoke.

"Astarion...you know you don't have to do this right? Don't feel as if you have to." You had paused in untangling the knots to give him your full attention.

Astarions heart swelled, knowing that even when he was practically in the water next you you still made sure he knew he had an out. He moved closer, placing a soft chaste kiss to your shoulder.

"I know my sweet, don't worry your pretty little head over it. I know that if I asked to leave you wouldn't think twice on encouraging me to do so, which is why I want to stay" he turned you around gently to place another kiss to your lips, "now lets get these knots out of your hair. Frankly my dear I am appalled at just how many there are." He teased before grabbing a soap from his basket and getting to work.

It was quiet work after that, relaxing into his touch as he worked the soap through your knots and gently untangled them. He smiled at you and gave you another kiss when you asked him if it was alright to wash his hair in turn. Once the both of you had cleaned up and gotten yourselves dry, he practically dragged you to his tent so he could begin working the oils through your hair.

"Astarion, isn't this your signature scent?" You teased, recognizing his motive with a swell of your heart.

"Of course it is darling, everyone should know that you keep fine company." He replied quickly, but you could hear the warmth hidden in the layers.

You closed your eyes as he worked the oils in, and then began sectioning your hair into smaller braids to form one big one. You felt him braiding in smaller things but you couldn't quite figure out what. With the tying of the band around the end, he handed you a mirror and held one of his own so you could see.

"Oh Astarion, it's like an art piece!" You exclaim joyfully, taking in the sight of the bands and flowers made from gold woven into your hair.

"Please darling, the trinkets pale in comparison to you." He sets his mirror down and carefully, as if you'll say no, wraps his arms around your waist.

You turn in his hold, jostling his hands a bit before they can settle back around your waist as you lay gentle kisses to his cheeks.

Hopefully next time you can find some trinkets for his hair.

[luveline]

hello!! your writing is so lovey !! i’d love to read about some hurt/comfort with Joel if you’re up for it!!

thank you for your request, hope this is ok! tw for attempted sexual assault and implied physical assault/ bruises/ traumatic event | fem!reader 1.1k

Joel's probably worried, you think. 

The skin of your arms and torso is rippled with goosebumps as another cold breeze whips past. Your fingertips are numb. Every new gale stings the welts across your stomach, shallow cuts from untrimmed fingernails. You'll need to wash them out when you get home, only home is a long ways away, and you're still shirtless. 

Joel's apartment is much closer. You know where you'll end up, even as you beg yourself to stick out the cold and the vulnerability. You don't want to burden him with this, but you don't want to carry it by yourself, either. 

The steps up to his apartment are cracked and filthy. Glass crushes under your ratty converse as you bump up each step, uncrossing your arms to hold on to the bannister inside. You pretty much sprint to his floor. You're not stupid, you know walking around half naked makes you a target for creeps. 

You stand in front of his door, shaking from the cold. You bruised knuckles ache as you knock. 

"Joel?" you say, crossing your arms over your bare chest again. "It's me." 

Please be home. 

"Joel? Are you–" 

The door opens suddenly, wisps of your hair dancing forward. You tighten your arms across your chest and can't make yourself smile at the man in front of you. Joel is rumpled, his clothes marred with dark mud, and he looks pissed. He must've just gotten in. 

He steps toward you and you step back. You're still in flight mode, but Joel's not gonna hurt you. He grabs your shoulder and shepherd's you behind him, looking down the hallway. 

"They didn't follow me." 

"They?" he asks stonily. His rage is quick to boil. 

You don't have any answers for him. You don't know who it was. 

Joel walks you inside of the apartment. His hand burns your chilled skin. Any heat feels like a relief to you, your body thrumming with an emotion you can't place as you press your back to his arm. 

He gets you on the couch, drapes a blanket over your shoulders. You're freezing up and not sure why, your grip on the present loosening as he crouches in front of you. The tip of his ring finger brushes against the gouges in your arm. 

"Is this it?" he asks. 

You press your lips together tightly and lift your arm so he can see the long welts over your stomach, beginning just under your chest and stopping before your navel. 

"Nothing else?" 

You look over his shoulder. "No," you say softly. "Nothing else." 

"Look at me." 

You look at him. You've known Joel for long enough to understand his expressions, but when you'd first met they felt like a puzzle. You'd thought him disdainfully detached, especially when his impassive lowbrow was accompanied by his silences. His glaring isn't at you, it's for you. 

A single tear races down your cheek. You try very hard to mirror his steadiness. 

"They pushed me up against a wall," you whisper, afraid that any sudden movements will spill another welled tear, "and they took off my shirt, and I– I think I hit him in the throat, and I pulled away even though he," —you gesture to your stomach— "tried to pull me back in. I tripped the other one." 

"You're sure they didn't do anything else?" he asks. 

"It's all surface wounds, Joel. My arm hurts, and I'm cold, but it's not as bad as it looks." 

He takes your cold hand like he doesn't mean to. He squeezes your fingers together, the bones aching for a millisecond, and lets you go. You curl in on yourself as he stands and leaves the room, his footsteps moving through the bedroom and the bathroom, where the tap runs. 

He returns with a shirt that won't fit you right and a first aid kit. He turns though he's seen it all now, letting you slip the shirt over your head and tug it over your stomach with a semblance of privacy. 

"I'm sorry for coming here," you say. 

He turns and shakes his head. "Don't say that shit. This is exactly where you're supposed to come. Do you want to stand up, let me disinfect scrapes?" 

You stand and reluctantly leave the blanket on the couch. He takes your arm into a much gentler hand than the one that left your scratches, disinfecting your cuts with a small piece of gauze and a splash of alcohol. You wonder if he thinks about the loss. Any sip is precious. 

He starts to pull up your shirt. You hold very still, let him pin it just under your breasts without so much as a wrong breath, and still he checks your face. 

"Alright?" 

You nod emphatically. Joel takes care to be gentle but he's still thorough — you wince at the feeling of wet cotton dragging down your broken skin. 

"I'm sorry," he says. 

Joel doesn't say sorry often. You know he wouldn't apologise for something so small as the biting ache of disinfectant.  

"It's not your fault. It's mine, I didn't have my jacket, I was only–" putting out the trash. Trying to do something normal, but nothing's normal anymore. "I'm fucking stupid. I've seen one of them with Ronnie before, I should've known they were bad news." 

You really aren't expecting his hug. Any affection beyond a quick hand hold or pat on the shoulder is scarce.

"You're not stupid." Joel's hand moves up to your hair, cupping the back of your head. "You're not."

His touch brings an instant wave of heat behind your eyes. You screw them closed tight to stop from sobbing into his shoulder, your hands vying desperately for his waist, his back, pulling him as close as he'll let you be. He doesn't push you away, not for a second. 

"You're okay," he says firmly.

Joel is all encompassing. His presence numbs the last remains of your panic. His arms are tight behind you, his chest solid under your own. 

"My hands are so cold, they're hurting," you mumble. 

If he feels the tears seeping into his t-shirt, he doesn't mention it. "Yeah?" he asks, reaching back to pull one from his back. He wedges it between you, your fingertips aligned over his heart. 

You'd never know how angry he was at that moment. You won't realise how deeply it runs until night's fallen, and you wake alone in his bed to the sound of the door closing. When he climbs in beside you, his knuckles are an angry red.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 17

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I have a house now. One more month until move in.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave the queen, stepping into the gales that whip around the outer flap of her tent. You reach to keep your cap from flying into the violent winds, the soldiers with their chins down as they lean against the force. Before you can gain your bearings, a shadow appears and calls your name, battling the weather to be heard. 

“Eh, where is your cloak, silly mouse? You will blow away with the leaves,” Bryce approaches, latching onto your arm as the bluster swirls around you, nearly taking you off your feet. 

“I am fine, sir, I only need find a blanket,” you stumble against him as another willful gust pushes you around.  

“That isn’t what I asked. What has happened to it? You’ve lost it?” 

“The queen was cold, sir,” you answer and cling to him, shivering as the tempest swirls around you. 

“The queen... greedy...” his voice trails off as her sneers towards the tent. 

“Sir,” you touch his arm gently to calm him, “she needs it more than I. She is expecting the king’s child.” 

He looks at you and juts out his jaw, “aye, s’pose you’re right, even if you’re too kind for yer own good.” 

He turns you and grips you tightly, shielding you as best he can against the wind. Your progress is slow and stunted by the sudden ebbs and flows. He grunts as you stagger and steadies you, at times almost lifting you off your feet. 

“Sir Bryce,” a deep voice slices through the whistle of the winds, “a storm approaches.” 

The king nears, his sword gripped by the pommel as he leans it against hit shoulder. His golden eyes flick towards you, as if he had not seen you in the shadow of your escort. He raises his chin and returns his attention to the soldier. He angles his blade to the ground and the tip buries in the dirt. 

“Aye, it surely does,” Bryce agrees, “I’ve seen a worst tempest in my years.” 

“Sir,” Geralt holds out his hands and a glisten appears on his sleeve. You lean in without a thought, curious, then feel a cold speck on your nose. You look up and see the white flakes drifting down. “It will not remain so peaceful. It comes from the north and will deepen by morning.” 

“Shall we wake the camp?” Bryce asks and you sway with the wind. Once more, the king’s attention strays to you, he frowns. 

“Not as yet. Let the horses rest a little longer. They will be able to handle a dusting,” he affirms. “but I will harry the men to prepare for our departure.” 

“As will I. I’ll be certain the carts are covered and weighted.” 

“Sir, ever wise,” King Geralt praises and scowls at you. He shakes his head and huffs, “why does the maid wear no cloak? She will not survive in this, summer soul, she is.” 

“Aye, yes, I was only just telling her as much. Seems her heart is too big for her thin hide,” Bryce tuts, “we were only off to find her a blanket before she sleeps.” 

“Blanket, eh,” the king lets go of his blade, letting it stand in the ground. He unbuckles his collar and sweeps his cloak from around his shoulder, “I have my hunting cloak and I don’t mind the snow so much.” 

Before you can react, the king lays his heavy cloak over your shoulders. It is longer than your height requires and it smells of sweat and iron. You lower your head at the warmth clinging to the lined wool. 

“Your highness, many thanks, but I might find a blanket--” 

“Do not defy your king,” Bryce rebukes, “mouse, you would do well to accept his grace. You will certainly need it if these winds do not pass.” 

“Apologies,” you utter, “sir, your highness, you are both generous.” 

King Geralt grumbles and nods, looking once more to the sky as he grabs his sword. 

“The Ridge, Vulture’s Peak... it isn’t far. The castle will do, eh?” 

“Not far at all, your highness,” Bryce agrees. “It would do you well to let your wife rest. Many congratulations, my king.” 

“Congratulations? For what? Smelling a storm?” the king furrows his brow. 

“Oi, I think I’ve said too much,” Bryce glances at you. 

“Say more,” the king commands. The soldier sighs and sheepishly shows his teeth.  

“Please, maid, would ya...” He mutters. 

“Your highness, the queen said she is with child,” you swallow, “I only just came from her tent. I believed you were aware. I did not mean to gossip.” 

“Child,” his eyes sink and close. He hums and heaves a deep breath, “yes, she would need to be still a time.” 

“Your highness, again, you have my apologies--” 

“No matter,” the king waves his hand. “Take the maid, I shall see to my wife.” 

The king resumes his path onward, sword in hand. He hardly shares in Jazlene’s cheer for the news. Perhaps it is only the threat of the storm that has him unhappy.  

You bring your hands to the dark fur along the collar of the cloak and draw it snug. You chatter and Bryce clucks. He nudges you and you walk forward in step. 

“So the snows have come,” Bryce declares, “along with the heir. I sense many storms brewing, mouse. Best keep our eyes on the horizon.” 

⚔️

You don’t sleep for long, if at all. Only the shallow dregs of your anticipation. You watch the snow fall from beneath the canopy and as the horses are roused and fed before dawn, a carpet coats the ground. 

You peer down at the powder. You wonder what it feels like. Cold and wet, Bryce says, but don’t dirty your soles, you’ll be soaked. He remains, as ever, cynical. 

“Be off soon,” he says as he brings Daisy around, a thick coat over her back and haunches. 

“To Vulture’s Peak?” You ask. 

“Aye, so we will,” he pets Daisy’s snout as she sniffs him. “though our host may not be so fond to have us.” 

“Host? It is not the king’s castle?” 

“Ha, no, no,” Bryce laughs heartily, “a king can’t live on a desolate bluff. By fealty, a lord must break bread and offer a roof to his king. It might be his company which has him facing a cold welcome.” 

“Oh,” you frown. 

“Ah, even this old coot won’t deny us in the coming storm. He has sense of these better than any,” Bryce shrugs. “Don’t worry your head. You stay in your cart and Daisy will do the rest. She’s a fine climber--” 

“Out of my way!” The curdling snarl interrupts the soldier and you both look to see the source. “Move, by gods, I am the queen, be away from me.” 

You get to your knees, leaning on the edge of the wagon to see out from under the canopy. A scatter of bodies split apart as Queen Jazlene struts through, the fur cloak rippling from her shoulders and the hood set back on her head as her curls spill out. She sneers at the snow beneath her slippers. 

“Ah, I did hear there was a cart around here—ugh, out,” she points as she marches up to the cart, “by royal right, I am seizing this cart.” 

“Eh,” Bryce moves closer, “your highness, the king--” 

“I cannot sit a horse, sir,” she rests her gloved hand over her stomach. “Or would you murder the future prince with your selfishness. All for a--” she pauses and glowers over at you, rolling her eyes. “A maid?” 

You rise and snatch up the cloak you’d used as a blanket. You keep bent under the low canopy and climb out with the cushion under your arm. 

“Sir, the queen is right, she should have the cart, I will sit with the luggage.” 

He huffs and sends a grimace to the sky, unable to direct his malice towards its source, “if she must...” 

“I must!” The queen snaps and yanks the pillow from your hands, “I will need this, certainly.” 

You stand aside, staring at the pillow dolefully, and buckle the top of your cloak. The queen pauses as she faces you. She looks you up and down. 

“Where did you find this then?” She touches the collar of the cloak. 

“It is my spare cloak,” Bryce insists before you can answer, “what else do you require, your highness? Shall we bring a lamb to sacrifice?” 

“Hm, is that how you northerners worship?” She sneers, missing his irony. 

He blinks dully and says nothing. 

“Well, secure the horse, I will need to be drawn.” 

“It is my horse,” Bryce insists, “you may bridle your own.” 

“You dare deny me?” She snarls at him as the soldiers with her stand on either side of the cart. 

“You may take it up with your husband. This is my steed, she carried me to war and she will carry me henceforth,” he snips. 

Bryce and Jazlene glare at each other. You look between them nervously. You don’t know who King Geralt might choose in this battle should he be called. 

“Fine, fetch the stinky thing,” Jazlene demands of one of the soldiers, “and blankets, another pillow, perhaps something to eat.” 

The cast of the sky shifts with the first light of the sun and Bryce grabs both horses and leads them aside. He whistles for you to follow. You come to him as Chestnut and Daisy cluelessly puff into the cold air. 

“You will ride. I will not have that... queen seizing my horse,” he sniffs, “I will show you how once I’ve saddled the mare.” 

“Oh, yes, sir.” You look up at the horses back. It seems very high. 

“You will want to be aback anyhow,” he shrugs, “you’ll not want to miss the mountain. It is very beautiful, especially in the snow.” 

⚔️

The party continues onward, treacherously. As the snow falls, the train diverts away from the flats and onto the narrow paths speckled with broken trunks and towering trees. The smell of pine tickles your nose as you ascend, bit by bit. 

It takes some time to grow used to the motion of the horse. Daisy’s hooves are certain and she does not slip on even the most precarious spots. Bryce rides behind you, booming about each nook and cranny, pointing out the white rabbits and the wilted fauna. His enthusiasm is unexpected but endearing. 

You ride until the moon replaces the sun and dismount along the side of the great cliff. There is no room here to pitch a tent and only a few fires burn along the ridge. Your hips ache as the soldier grunts about his back. 

“I should see to the queen,” you suggest as you rub your hands together. 

“She must have many fawning over her,” Bryce spits out a wad of leaves and squashes it under his feet. 

“I am her maid--” 

“And we are on a long road. She might go without you minding her temper,” he snarls. 

You frown, “I am not upset. She needs the cart more than me.” 

“It isn’t that which sees me chagrined,” he growls. “It’s those deeds you will not admit of that traitor’s daughter which make me prickle.” 

You’re quiet. You look away, your eyes wandering up into the sky, watching the snow swirl down, following it down to the ground far below. The heaps are immaculate in the moonlight and the trim of white along the ridge gleams. 

“I am a maid.” 

“I know little of your summer people but if that is how they treat those who serve them, perhaps this alliance was not so wise,” he grumbles as he steps up beside you, “perhaps it would’ve been better to submit such cruel nobles.” 

“Sir,” you say, shocked and peer over at his profile. His beard has grown to meet his cloak, his hair coiling down to his shoulders. 

“I serve my king, as I ever will, but I will not bend the knees to a snake,” he hisses and crosses his arms. 

“We are united, aren’t we? Summer and Winter,” you reach to touch his thick hide mitt. 

“Aye, yes, I do not seek another battle,” he exhales. “I am only wary of those who may.” 

You squint. Your mind returns to Lord Dustan and what he said to his daughter. The heir is their prize, an affirmation of the bounty earned by their betrayal, but also a chain to that very act. To the man they forsook their name for. A man they speak as kindly on as they had their former allies. 

“Might I walk?” You draw your hand from his. “My legs are sore.” 

“Not too far. And keep your eyes open,” he girds, “and your hands in your cloak. You needn’t frostbite.” 

You nod and he turns to you. He pulls up the hood of your cloak and pats your shoulder. 

“Tarry too long and I’ll look for you,” he warns. 

“Sir,” you shift slowly and step past him. 

You trod higher up the incline as you marvel over the edge. Bodies huddles together beneath cloaks and blankets, nestling for warmth against the wall of the cliff. You carry on and stop near a luggage cart, close to the drop. You hold out your hand, letting snow gather in your palm. It is cold, bitterly and painfully cold, but so beautiful. You bring it closer and watch it slowly melt as your hand numbs. 

“Do you remember...” the king’s voice drawls over you as his soft steps approach. “What I told you of this place?” 

You look at him. He is lit by the moonlight, his golden eyes like stars, and his jaw is bristly with thickening stubble. You bow your head, “your highness, are the bears already asleep in their caves?” 

He chuckles, “you do recall,” he praises, “not yet, though they do not come this high.” 

“And the wolves? Are they near?” 

“They are always prowling,” he says, shifting closer, his arm pressing to yours. He bends slightly to peer straight down, “the elk will be in the forests.” He points to the snowcapped tips of the distant trees, “here, the vultures have their nests. Their eggs,” he curves his hands to show the size, “I made a writ, years ago. It is forbidden to eat the eggs. I always found it quite tragic to desecrate the majestic creatures before they can even be borne. Before they can fly even.” 

“Vultures? I’ve never seen one? They are... birds?” 

“Yes, birds,” he confirms.  

He is silent as he considers his kingdom below. His breath is gritty as it rises and falls. He has much to think on. A child, a wife, and his homecoming delayed by a storm. 

“One thing has changed here, in these lands of winter,” he says lowly and you feel a ripple in your cloak. He presses his hand firmly to your back, sliding it along your side to grasp your hip. He moves to stand behind you and brings you close. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your crown, “I said before, there is no summer here,” he holds you, pulling his cloak around you, concealing you within it as he drapes himself around you, “summer is here. With me. Warm and gentle.” 

You go rigid as he holds you, your heart beating at the unexpected embrace, at the unseemly contact between you. He hums as he stands with you in the shadows of the cart, so brazenly covert. Anyone might happen upon you and yet they all hide away from the storm. 

“Your highness,” you stammer and quiver against him. 

“Treasure,” he purrs, “my treasure. The one good thing I’ve brought home...” 

You can’t breathe or think. Is he drunk? Confused? What does he mean? 

“I--” he begins but the kick of a rock quiets him, the stone bouncing off the cart’s wheel. 

A shadow stalks down the precipice towards you and the king detaches, uncovering you from his cloak. He faces the figure as the tramp up the incline. You hear the king shudder as he tickles your back. 

“There’s the mouse,” Bryce says as he comes into the moonlight, his brow and jaw set, though he doesn’t look at you. He looks at the king, almost defiant. “You shouldn't be out so long in the cold. Exposed,” he grits, “come, I’ve sparked us a fire.” 

King Geralt clears his throat, “thank you, sir.” 

“My king,” Bryce says as he beckons to you, “I will keep the maid safe. As you bid.”