#Gates of Harmonious Interest

[branwinged]

"dragons plant no trees" gets thrown around a lot as fact, but i think the veracity of that claim is still up for debate in the books. because dany (like bran and jon and many others) is a narrative symbol of hope and rebirth within the series because of her connection to dragons and fire, not in spite of it. this is because dragons in asoiaf have a much more expansive narrative function than simply 'nuke metaphor'. the 'exclusively weapons of war' image they have acquired breaks down immediately if you recall that the first thing dany does with them is begin dismantling an unjust status quo. she rallies the unsullied at the gates of astapor with cries of dracarys! dracarys! freedom! <- dragons as a symbol of hope and freedom for the persecuted. and obviously they've been built up as an oppositional force against the others. we're told when the last dragon died summers became shorter. in that respect the dragons, or more specifically, fire which is warmth which is passion—very much embodies life against the numbing, deadening threat of eternal winter that the others represent. but fire also consumes, which simultaneously makes dragons agents of destruction, or as adwd shows: the monsters who eat little girls and leave behind their bones. but when dany found herself chained to a false peace which effectively undid her cause in meereen, it was the dragon that rescued her and reignited her fire to fight back—which is to say that dragons represent a wealth of contradictions within the text and this is likely something grrm means to parallel with the others to some extent, by questioning their apparent narrative role as the one true evil. because i doubt the series is gearing up towards a spectacle-esque battle wherein our heroes get to practice righteous, easy violence on a monolithic army of monsters. that feels like it would undo a lot of asoiaf's preoccupation with investigating violence against socially acceptable targets, even if said target is ice sidhe. and this binary between a one true good and a one true evil, i.e. melisandre's philosophy ("if half an onion is black with rot, it is a rotten onion. a man is good or he is evil.") is not something the story takes as given.

instead there's this exchange between bran, jojen, and meera in asos: "but you just said you hated them." / "why can't it be both?" / because they're different. like night and day, or ice and fire." / "if ice can burn. then love and hate can mate."—and i think it's talking about reconciling two conflicting ideas. because the dream of an eternal summer is just as unsustainable as the threat of eternal winter. i think the battle for dawn is more about questions of seasonal harmony. the first line from agot's summary says, "long ago, in a time forgotten, a preternatural event threw the seasons out of balance", so it's not totally out of question for the series to end with that seasonal balance restored once more. and that question of balance and how it can be achieved then works as a metaphor for a bunch of other things. because asoiaf at its core is very interested in exploring big contradictions, like love and duty? how do you keep all your oaths without betraying someone you love? how can one hope for a just, rightful ruler in a world where the systems in place can never allow such a thing? how do dragons plant trees?

you cannot frame dany's arc as a binary choice between planting trees or embracing (dragon)fire. because the fire is hers, it is a part of her, that's who she is. and her character has always existed outside of rigid dichotomies. at the end of agot she had two options, resign herself to a life of seclusion as a widow or die with the last of her family in that pyre, instead she performed a miracle. presently, i think grrm means to explore necessary, revolutionary violence with her arc because you cannot deal with institutional slavery by simply negotiating with slavers like she does in adwd. and the consequences thereof because she's also been set up to be more reckless with dragonfire in the future. but i think there will be an eventual reconciliation there, between her dreams "to plant trees and watch them grow." and her role as the mother of dragons, as a revolutionary figure. because if ice can burn, then maybe dragons can plant trees. they'll learn how to.

[heartanthem]

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐱 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐆/𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

synopsis : hearing that the teachers couldn't handle the delinquents anymore, the president (reluctantly) decided to step up. Who would've thought that you both had such an interesting history before all of this happened?

content warnings : yandere behaviour , some cursing , slight gore but not much (mentions of blood, murder, and a bit desc ab it) , mentions of poisoning , WORK OF FICTION .

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　.　

—> Yandere!Student Council President who holds rules above anything else. He vowed to keep everything stays in order and make sure there would be no harm to this school's reputation.

—> Yandere!Student Council President who is not only an excellent leader but is also capable of excelling his grades on every exam while doing his works as the student body. He is strict and has an unapproachable energy, yet he can be such a gentleman, soft spoken, if you pay attention closely. The students depend and trust him more than they do with the teachers despite the fact that he is new here.

—> Yandere!Student Council President that was tasked to look after a group of delinquents because the teachers couldn't handle it anymore. As the school leader, there is no way he would back down even on something trivial like this.

—> Yandere!Student Council President who takes a look on the school CCTV camera to observe this so-called "delinquent" gang. He sighed and rolled his eyes in annoyance as he watched how your friends ruined the school walls by spraying graffiti, some that brought packs of cigarettes to smoke outside the school's building, and those who skipped periods for hours, a whole day even.

—> Yandere!Student Council President who complained about how stupid they were but his train of thoughts was stopped as he saw something— no, someone, on the CCTV. He told his vice president to replay the video that was taken on the school's gate. His vice president questioned him 'why?' but was interrupted as the president took away the mouse forcefully from his hand.

—> Yandere!Student Council President whose expression changed 180° the moment you showed up on the camera. His pupils widening as he scanned and observed the video closely. A small grin slowly plastered to his face, not realizing that he might had bitten his index finger out of excitement, and it starts to bleed. His heartbeat flared up before he let out a relieved sigh and straightened his back.

"Found you."

—> Yandere!Student Council President who turns out to be your only childhood friend. You were a target and was severely bullied as a child, your parents were on the brink of divorce at that time, and the financial wasn't also doing so well in your family. People would mock you for fun because they had nothing better to do, and no one dared to stood up for you; either they simply didn't care, or were afraid to be the next target of the bullying. Still, the fact that not even a single person asked how you were feeling after what you'd been through was the worst feeling ever.. just a simple chit chat would meant the world to you, but no one did.

—> Your life sparks a little light the moment you knew him. He got lost while looking for his class since he'd just recently transferred here after years of homeschooling. You offered him some help, and it didn't take long until you both became friends. Yes, he was a loner too; the difference is— his family is rich, you've also heard from him that he lived in a harmonious household. Not even the bullies wanted to look down on him, they tried to get close with him, only to got scoffed by him and was hit by a brutalistic honest answer :

"I'm not interested."

It's not surprising though, since his whole attention revolved around you. ♡

—> Yandere!Student Council President, the first one who ever stood up for you when you were bullied. He never failed to lightened up your exhausting days, by showering you with snacks and gifts, you felt very happy but extremely guilty because you couldn't do the same for him.

"I.. couldn't possibly pay all of this back.." you responded with a sad smile, returning the gifts to him. "But i appreciat—" , "Accept them, (Name). I bought them with my heart!" He patted your head, and a gasp left your mouth.

Your sad face was eventually replaced by a happy, teary eyes. "I.. i don't know what to say.. sniff" , he panicked when tears performed in your eyes , "D-Do you hate the gifts?! Y-you can throw them if you want!" Now he was about to tear up too! Such blunder shouldn't be seen to you! :(

You ended up hugging him for 15 minutes to comforted him and reassured him that it was happy tears, he'd actually stopped crying the second you hugged him, but can you really blamed him for fake crying because he wanted more of this closeness? <3

—> Yandere!Student Council President who started to poison those who bullied you, and those who get too close with you (like that one moment when that girl asked you to help her take the eraser that fell near your table. That bitch really did that on purpose to get your attention. Where were she when you were hurt?! The audacity... just go die already.)

—> Yandere!Student Council President that had missed you so so much! Everyone had just returned from summer vacation, you haven't responded to any of his letters though! :(

That's why he only felt excited to go to school, because you'll be there!

His smile faltered when you were nowhere to be seen, your seat was empty too.

...

Eh?

—> Yandere!Student Council President who later found out that you'd moved out from the school almost a month ago because the bullying got worse, to the point you ended up being hospitalized. What summer vacation? You spent weeks resting on the hospital, then moved away from that country, right after your parents got divorced.

—> Yandere!Student Council President who was left with too many questions, he panicked enough at the mention of you moving out, but.. hospitalized?

... when? Was that the reason why you didn't respond to any of his letters? You were actually hospitalized?

So the bullying never actually stops..?

Those bastards had been bullying you behind his back? when he wasn't by your side? So it happened outside from the school..? Why did you hide this from him? Why didn't you tell him everything?????

Ah, no..

It's partially his fault for not looking at you outside from school..

Maybe just a mere poisoning was never enough.

—> Yandere!Student Council President who later returned back home, with another wicked plan on his mind. The boy's beautiful face was utterly injured . His parents were beyond furious after he told them that he's actually been bullied and was forced to shut his mouth all this time. How could such monsters do this to their vulnerable, pure son?

This "vulnerable, pure son" also wailed on his mommy's embrace that he wanted them to be dead as soon as possible in the most gruesome way.

Well, that won't be a problem.

He hailed from a well known family, hiring hitmen to murder and make sure there will be no evidence left is no big deal!

And went his parents weren't looking, he smashed all of the safe that contained his savings just to paid his trusted servants to bring back all of the students' corpses and ordered them to hid all of it on the cottage he had all for himself.

"One day.. one day when i finally find you.." a small sigh left his lips, he caressed the frame containing a photograph of you and him taken together. He softly kissed your face that was captured on the camera, the wooden frame he held was ruined by his bloody hands. "I'll make sure to show you how in love i am.. don't worry, it won't take long (Name).. i'll protect you with everything i capable of.. i swear it on my life—" , "LET ME GO!!!"

one of the vermints who bullied you, the leader to be specific, was purposely chosen to be the last one to die. Poor him, his voice turned hoarse from screaming, must've been hurt to be immobilized like that on the floor with the poison of the person who loved the victim he bullied so, so much. His servants kicked the laying man in the face, he raised his hand to stop his servants. "Ah, wait. No need for that." He smiled calmly, clutching the frame of you and him to his chest again. "Just sew his mouth with something and make sure he won't be able to utter any words, his voice sickened my stomach. Oh! but make sure he doesn't die, i want to have fun ripping and pulling his heart out, that's why they're gathered here on the first place!" The servants nodded without changing their professional expressions and immediately prepared everything for their young lord. The man on the floor widened his eyes and bursted into tears, begging for mercy.

He gazed coldly and stepped on his head few times , "You're lucky you'll be dead soon anyway." The kicking never ceased, his breath rage at the thoughts of (Name) who suffered every day and somehow still managed to live their life with all of those wounds, both physically and mentally. After calming down, he exited the room without saying anything. A loud scream of pain can be heard from the room before everything goes silence all over again. After this, he'll keep all of their hearts and frame them one by one on the walls of his little cottage, adding more to his collection that he desperately wants to show to you one day. ♡

"(Name).. i'm the only one who can protect you. After i wiped all those who bothered your life, we can finally be together.." tears fell down from his eyes, he took a deep breath between his sobs, before speaking again to the air— no, to the picture of you.

"I'm sorry for not trying hard enough... next time.. next time i'll make sure to look after you even more. So, please.. don't ever run away from me, ever again."

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　.

© heartanthem

[ borders from : @/saradika ]

A/N : phew, it's finished! I hope i don't flop HELP, oh btw, i mostly explained the flashbacks first before writing the actual fic (just like my post ab the Fallen Angel before). I hope you like it! Again, sorry for my grammatical error and if the content was cringe lolol, i accept every critique btw! <3 Tysm for reading ♡

[r--kt]

Okay, but why the "Kannabi" Bridge? I mean, why is this called that? Turns out, this is an amazing and very beautiful metaphor.

Kakashi Gaiden analysis. Kannabi — the bridge between two worlds

I will look at this from the side of Shinto culture (based on the materials that I could find, feel free to correct me if you know more about this) and from the side of Kakashi and Obito's storylines.

Contents | cultural code · significance for the plot structure · the idea itself (this one is really important!)

Cultural code

In Shinto culture, it is not customary to divide the world into human and sacred, especially into divine and demonic principles — everything exists in harmony with each other, in a single system.

Kannabi (神奈備) refers to a region that is a shintai (repositories in which kami reside) itself, or hosts a kami. In fact, Kannabi is a place of connection between the human and the spiritual. Usually these are mountains, rivers, and forests that stand out for their beauty. These are such accumulations of natural energy, so sacred that their presence requires observance of a certain rite. So, if in relatively modern times be present next to the blossoming sakura, picnics in picturesque mountains and the like has normalized in Japanese culture, then in ancient times people did not dare to disturb mountains or groves with their presence. In such places, people performed rituals of worship to the deity, wrestling matches, divination, sacred dances, offerings, etc. The territory of the kami did not completely coincide with the territory of worship to them, people still tried to move away from the center of the sacred place so as not to bother their deity. To mark the border of entry into Kannabi, symbolic gates were installed — most often in the form of torii.

examples of kannabi in real life. Mount Fuji and Nachi Falls. [ as I understand, shintai and kannabi are synonymous concepts, but kannabi is broader in meaning. ]

It's all about how important the term is in a cultural context. A place of divine power that cannot be desecrated. From here, the Kannabi Bridge and the surrounding area can also be considered endowed with divine energy — and here the most interesting thing begins.

Significance for the plot structure

Now about the scenario composition. In general, the Battle of Kannabi, as the event itself in Kakashi and Obito's storylines, according to Joseph Campbell's «hero's journey», is a stage of transition between worlds. That's what the symbolism of the place also works for. This is the moment when the hero assumes responsibility for the beliefs he carries and their consequences, and literally or symbolically crosses the threshold between the safe and familiar world to the dangerous and unknown one, embarks on the path of reflection and prepares to meet the unconscious.

Thus, briefly speaking, Kakashi finds the strength to resolve his internal conflict in favor of his father's attitudes about the value of each Shinobi, and Obito sacrifices himself, protecting his loved ones and defending his ideals. Then their paths got separate so that each one could face with the unknown by himself.

In the context of the monomyph model, this is how the beginning of the initiation stage is demonstrated (i.e., the transition from one state to another, which is accompanied by some kind of ritual). Since Kannabi in culture is the boundary between the human and the divine, it can be concluded that this very transition is shown almost literally, thanks to the sharingan awakening and the broken tanto. This is the first turning point in history, structurally coinciding with the end of the first act.

The idea itself

And what do we see in general? In the battle of Kannabi, the religious Shinto subtext is vividly read. For the battle in a sacred place, the moral positive change of the hero (Kakashi) or his original courage (Obito) and a certain sacrifice (Kakashi's eye), the deities give a reward: the power of sharingan, which helps them save Rin, which is shared between Obito and Kakashi and in the future generally serves as a direct demonstration of the spiritual connection between them. At the same time, for the desecration of a sacred place (the goal of the mission was to blow up a bridge), heroes are punished: from this point of view, Obito's death is a certain sacrifice for the damage inflicted on the deity.

There is also information that the name of the bridge - Kannabi-kyo (神無毘橋) - can also be interpreted as «A bridge where the gods won't help». idk if it's true, but sounds cool.

Moreover, the very name of Obito's mangekyo — Kamui (神威) — literally translates as «The Power of Gods». Perhaps it is based on the mentioned concept of the place where Kakashi and Obito received the power of sharingan. And maybe that's why they call the technique the same way: because they treat it rather with such a religious meaning.

and thanks for reading to the end ♡

[srbachchan]

DAY 6054

Jalsa, Mumbai Sept 14, 2024 Sat 11:43 pm

Birthday - EF Mahendra Chaudhari .. Mahendra C ..

Ef Ritika Jain Sunday, 15 September .. and all our wishes to our Ef with the prayer that all be well and in the joy of happiness and a harmonious life .. 🌹❤️❤️

time passed away and the time now reads 1:18 am of the Sunday September of the year 2024 .. so what .. we are still on it ..

some rather interesting developments occurred .. the bandages .. few bandages came off .. so when the walk on the GOJ occurs they shall be in remission and absent - the bandages !!

the distance from the well wishers gets intimate and close as the stand rolls forward .. gives me better position to welcome those that stand on the mid partition of the road , and often go unnoticed .. no that shall not happen or should never happen ..

yes the well wisher is the reason for our presence .. they dictate our being .. they desire , we aspire and give reason for their presence .. !

without them we are nobody .. nothing nada .. !!!

fear not the disinterest from the audience .. when you aspire they be the ones to walk beside you ..

each criticism is the bed of steaming fire coals that compel you to walk over them .. and when it has been swept under the bare feet .. the ground on the other side is the coolant respite ..

my love and expectations for the morrow by the Gate ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

🪔 ,

September 15 .. not forgetting the birthday greetings to Ef Vinita J from Hyderabad .. 🙏🏻❤️🚩

September 14 .. belated birthday wishes to Ef Shani Yadav from Kolkata .. lots of joys and balloons 🎈 from the Ef Family .. ❤️

[deny-the-issue]

Love Thy Nature

Summary: Set in the "Baldur's Gate 3" epic tale, you struggle with ongoing body image issues while pining after Halsin, hoping to earn a special place in his heart.

Thank you so much to my lovely beta readers @juniper-sunny and @sirenofzaun <3

AO3 link

link to divider

Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of interest in this fic! I hope you all enjoy <3

[MDNI] [Halsin x fat!Reader] [no mention of gender pronouns] [reader has vulva/breasts] [body image issues] [whatever height you are, Halsin is taller] [whatever weight you are, Halsin can lift you] [smut] [fluff] [angst] [happy ending] [oral sex] [vaginal sex] [teasing] [5580 words]

Chaos. Those first few hours were absolute chaos. In Baldur’s Gate shopping for vegetables one moment, infested with a slimy tadpole the next. At least you aren’t alone. 

Even if they intimidate you. 

You all have a common goal, and you wear this safety like a blanket. With companions like these, maybe you’ll have a chance to live. If you don’t get caught in between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, that is. 

Stomach rumbling, feet aching, thighs raw, the nights end with you silently crying yourself to sleep. You are distinctly unsuited for this life. The others say nothing, but you feel like you’re letting them down when you lag behind them during the day’s journey. You simply cannot keep up with Karlach and Lae’zel’s pace, and with the dismal amount of food for dinner, you’re starving. 

You’re not the only hungry one, but you are the only one that eats away from the fire, in solitude. Even in the city you preferred to eat alone. Judging eyes haunt your every bite, but you know the shame comes from within. You know you have no right to complain about being hungry when you have the most weight to lose.  

So you suffer in silence. 

Your armor consists of ill-fitting cloth and leather which you have to repair frequently. The cloth is thin and your thighs can rub it away to nothing within a single, travel-heavy day. The others have found armor that suits them quite well, and you’re happy for them. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t envious of the ease at which they can find things that fit. 

It’s hard not to dwell on your size. How it would be easier to find armor if you were skinnier. How much easier it would be to keep up. How much more confident you would be. 

You see your travel companions flirt and cast lewd looks at each other. It lightens the heart to see, yet stirs a deep yearning within that has been your constant bane over the years. To love is something you have known many times, but to be loved is another story entirely. Truly loved for everything you are, inside and out. It seems impossible to behold when you cannot fathom loving yourself in that way. 

Maybe one of them would have given you a chance, if only you had the confidence to try. 

As the days go on, you learn more about each other, some willingly and others forced. Just when you think no one else is hiding something, another secret arises. Every single one of them has enough problems without the threat of becoming illithid, and you start to see the people underneath the mask of intimidation you assigned to them. 

Despite your best efforts to keep your distance, they start to grow on you. Their troubles become yours, and a warm feeling of belonging takes root in your chest. 

The grove is a delightful little community. Their harmony with nature is beautiful, your curious eyes take in every part and crevice. 

Maybe too curious, since you had a near scrape with the guards due to the little shit, Mol. She’s too smart for her own good–trouble will surely follow her wherever she goes.

Just as it does you.

Just as it does him, too, apparently. Breaking a bear out of a dungeon is a first for you, but watching that bear transform into the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen becomes a keystone memory. 

Already you are filled with conflicted feelings, more thankful everyday this horrible thing happened to you because it brought you to them. All of them brilliant, all of them flawed, and all incredibly beautiful. 

You cling to the hope of his companionship as you prepare to protect the grove. Halsin’s knowledge instills fear in your bones, more defined than it was before. Now you have an idea of what you’re up against, and it’s all much bigger than you can fathom. Getting to know him personally casts away the worrisome thoughts; his words a honey-sweet distraction to the storm clouds gathering overhead. 

You leave his company with a smile straining your face, but it doesn’t take long for the bite of loneliness to nip at your heels. Halsin’s answer about lovers echoes through your mind, a deep spiral into well-trodden waters. 

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid. Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve.”

How foolish of you to think he might warm to you. You’re sure his fortunes will improve, only with someone else. Someone more deserving of him. 

These depressing thoughts do not stop you from befriending him. Quite the opposite, in fact. By casting aside your hopes for romantic love, you feel as though you can finally start to be yourself in camp.

And you’re surprised to find they like you. Your spirit and sense of humor return to you in troves–making some poor sod kneel for Lae’zel has everyone laughing at camp that night.

Yet you still make off alone with your bowl of stew when dinner is served, until a large obstacle blocks your path. 

“I do not pretend to know why you dine alone, but you are most welcome to join us.” Halsin smiles kindly.

“I know, it’s ok. Thank you, though,” you try to dismiss him, but he doubles down. 

“Do you not find our company agreeable?”

“No! I mean, yes? You’re lovely–you’re all lovely,”you stammer, heat rising to your face. 

“Good, then you’ll have no problem joining us,” Halsin’s eyes sparkle with amusement, no doubt from watching your mind implode. 

The prospect shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is, yet you cannot help but feel extremely uncomfortable. 

You beat down the slight panic and return Halsin’s smile, unwilling to argue your case further. What would you even say? Laying your insecurities bare to a man you just met is not on your agenda for the night. 

His large hand touches your shoulder as he makes his way to the fire, confident you’ll join him. So warm and rough with callouses–the contact lasted but a moment but you can feel it still, like an invisible badge of affection. 

“Come on, Soldier, grab a stump! I already picked the slugs off for you.” Karlach laughs at your grimace. 

“Thanks,” you walk over to the offered seat. “I’ve had enough slimy things for a lifetime.”

A chorus of agreement and various stages of grief crosses the face of each companion as you join them around the fire, a part of the pack for once. As much as you begrudge Halsin for pulling you out of your comfort zone, you never spend another night eating alone, and your heart is all the fuller for it. 

The battle for the grove was hard won, and the celebration that followed was a well-needed respite for everyone. Surrounded by friends, plenty of food, and drink, you felt more alive than you had since it all began. Whatever shame you were harboring faded away with the alcohol settling into your rosy cheeks, and you sought out the man you’ve been pining for. 

Weeks of hard living have left you as lightweight as Halsin claims to be, but the confidence to mingle in his company is a welcome boon. Oh, to see him tipsy–better still if you are the first person he sees. Is he handsy in his affections, or reserved, you wonder? 

But what does he mean by calling you resourceful? 

You’ll have to ponder its meaning after some sobering sleep. Nothing could sway your mood tonight. He may have turned you down, but he was surely flirting with you. Even with the short time you’ve known him, you know he is not the kind to lead anyone on. 

Enjoyable. A night with you would be enjoyable; the thought has you grinning for the rest of the celebration, and biting your lip later, when you’re alone in your tent with roaming, lusty hands.

You’re able to find suitable food, but with life’s ever-increasing hardships, it continues to take a toll on your body. Hiking is not as hard as it once was, though, and you are thankful for it. With a body such as yours, it would take a considerable amount of time before you’d be deemed ‘thin’, but the loss of weight is undeniable. 

Your clothes are loose, for one, and the little armor you have shifts uncomfortably, always needing adjusting. The others have started noticing as well. 

Karlach gave you a, “Lookin’ good, soldier!” the other night and you never wished to cast an invisibility spell so much as in that moment.

This slightly-slimmer body should make you happy, but the success is tainted in your mind. It’s not as if you chose to lose weight, to starve, to walk endlessly every damned day. What happens when– if-- you can live a normal life after this? The same mistakes will surely be made as before, and you’ll go right back to the size you so hate. No lesson has been learned here, not in regards to food. 

Even if you do somehow lose all this weight, you still will not be pleased with yourself. Stretch marks and loose skin, you could never look the way you want to. 

The frustration grinds your spirit down, but no one notices. Hells, you hardly notice. The Shadowlands dampen the mood of everyone, infecting the camp even without touching it. 

Fighting has never been easy for you, and you’ve managed to hold your ground so far. But every person’s luck runs out sometime, you suppose. One awkward move and you get a knife in your side. The armor should have protected you–would have–if only it fit you better. 

Halsin gathers you in his arms, carrying you despite your weight. A mad rush back to the Last Light inn saves your life. As you’re placed in a healing sleep, you hear echoes of Halsin’s soothing voice. You can never make out the words, but they calm your turbulent mind, keeping the nightmares at bay. 

When you wake, you are mostly healed. The skin is healed, though a scar remains, and the pain is manageable while lying still in bed. Halsin greets you with warmth and a small amount of haste.

It seems, while you slept, Halsin talked to both a tailor and a leather-worker on your behalf. What is more surprising is the light scolding you receive.

“You should have spoken up, we cannot afford such a loss in these dire times.”

“And we can afford this?” You doubt, knowing how much new, custom armor costs. 

One stern look from Halsin, and you concede.

Everyone pooled their gold together to buy you fitted clothing and armor, a gesture that means the world to you. What have you done to deserve such kind friends? Just as you took on their troubles, they’re taking on yours without a second thought. 

There is one part of their gesture that gives you pause. They need your measurements, and you need to stand for it. With abdomen muscles still healing, you require Halsin’s help to get out of bed, leaning heavily against him. 

So close to him, you breathe in his scent, take in his warmth, and relish the contact. It’s almost enough to distract you from the embarrassment of having a stranger shimmy a measuring tape around your body. You hide your discomfort as best you can, but Halsin notices.

He always does. 

He must have read it as pain, because he hastens the person along so you can lay down and rest again. Another unsaid deed that shows his care for you, soothing the stinging humiliation. 

“Let me call the healers over, I am sorry for disturbing your rest.”

You grab his hand, stilling his movements. “Wait, please.”

“What troubles you, friend?”

You shake your head. “Thank you. For carrying me back and for the clothing. Words cannot describe how grateful I am.” 

Halsin takes your hand in his gently, “This fight would not be the same without you by my side.”

You blink away a rogue tear as Halsin brings forth a healer, and drift into a deep, healing sleep with a smile on your face. 

When you wake, you’re fully restored, and your new armor and clothes are atop the bedside table. The sight should fill you with excitement, but all you feel is dread.

What if they don’t fit you? What if they’re too small?

Retreating to a corner with a privacy curtain, you hesitantly try them on, thankful that your party isn’t here. To your surprise and great relief, they all fit–as they say–like a glove. The leather armor comes with a learning curve with all the straps and strings, but after a few mistakes, you figure it out.

It’s genius, really. With overlapping leather and lacing on the side, up the arms, and down your legs, its size is fully adjustable. Up to a point, of course, but extremely useful for the days to come. You’ll probably lose more weight as the journey is far from over, and now you have armor that can account for size changes in either direction!

You choke back tears of happiness, never once having known the feel of well-fitting clothes until now. Everything has been uncomfortable in some way or another, always with minor inconveniences, and never once did they look good. 

In these clothes, it doesn’t matter how you look. You feel good in them, and for once in your life, that is all that matters. A burden has been lifted from your shoulders whose weight you never noticed before now. 

Could you truly be comfortable within this body of yours?

Later, when they all come back to the inn after adventuring, the party makes you spin for them so they can get a good look at your new attire, and although shy, your smile is brighter than it has ever been. 

Saving Thaniel is no easy task, and you probably have a few more gray hairs after that battle. With Halsin’s life at stake if you fail, you fight tooth and nail to protect the portal. 

Even though it is not enough to lift the curse, Halsin’s eyes soften whenever he looks upon you, and that is all the reward you need. 

Your love does not end with Halsin; each party member has wormed their way into your heart. So when Shadowheart embarks on her quest with you at her side, you trust her to make the right choice. 

Dame Aylin is truly something to behold. The daughter of a goddess, and a god in her own right. To be reunited with her love after so many years is a love story of the ages. You’re lucky to bear witness to it, although it tugs at the heartstrings. 

The longing for a love such as theirs does not linger on your mind, not with the battle for Moonrise Towers looming overhead. 

Is this the end? Will you be free to live your life once more? The end does not feel as near as you are led to believe. Not all of the pieces fit together yet, and the unknown scares you. 

As you suspected, Ketheric Thorm was just one head of the hydra. There is much more to be done, and the journey ahead weighs heavily on your shoulders. You try to focus on your triumphs; the Shadowcurse is lifted, the land can begin to heal, and Halsin promises to remain by your side. 

A heart full of joy can only do so much when you’re running on fumes, requiring a warm bed and a few days rest. Your friends help distract you from the wear and tear of the past few weeks, always bickering about this or that. Usually you stay out of it, but Halsin has other plans on the journey to Wyrm’s Crossing, it seems.

Freeing Thaniel, and moreso, the land, has earned you a special place by Halsin’s side. You did not expect that place to come with an honorary nickname. 

Two simple words. It, at first, fills you with a sense of kinship, but soon begins to wear on your mind. As much as you love the affection it implies, one of those words hasn’t pertained to you for a long time. 

You find him that night at camp, voice hesitant. “Halsin, can I ask you something?”

“What is it, little duck?” He greets you with a pleased smile. 

“Well, that’s what I need to talk about. Little duck.”

“Does it not please you?”

“No–it’s not that. It’s just,” you pause, crossing your arms as you take a deep, calming breath. “I’m not little.”

“Are you not?” he inquires with a hint of mirth. 

Confused eyes lift to find his hand hovering above your head, a silent judgment of your height. 

Your stoic facade breaks with a smile, then with laughter, and you nudge him with your shoulder playfully. 

“You got me there,” you surrender, grinning ear to ear. 

Halsin laughs with you, but retains a more serious composure. “As much as that pleases me, should I call you by another name?”

“Please don’t,” you answer swiftly, needing no arduous thought to decide. 

From then on, anytime he says those two words, it fills you with warmth. 

Reuniting with the refugees saved from the Shadowlands brings you joy, but not as much as a real bed and a roof over your head does. 

Freshly washed and bathed, you almost forgot what it’s like to be clean. The quest to save the city is as grave as ever, yet all you needed was some self care to feel ready to take on the Elder Brain. 

The nights in Elfsong Tavern are anything but quiet, and you feel Halsin’s attention grow with each night, like he’s working up to something.

Maybe it’s just hopeful thinking, but you feel the chemistry between the two of you. Laughter and conversation is always easy with him, and he’s been touching you more. 

Nothing serious; grazing your arm, wiping a smudge of dirt off your face, his hand lingering on your shoulder. The contact, although small, brightens your mood, and you begin to yearn for it every time he’s near, even if you still think romance is out of the question. 

It’s almost comedic, how wrong you are. 

Not a week passes before Halsin confesses his feelings for you; how he yearns to feel your skin against his in a romantic night under the stars. You barely hear his next words over your heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

His heart stirs for you, just as yours does for him. He seems so vulnerable, just now. Nervous, just as you would be in his shoes. You feel as though you are seeing a piece of him rarely shown, or perhaps you did not wish to see past the brawn. Your souls are of the same gentle nature, and just a rest away from uniting in bliss.

Fidgeting in your sheets, you try to calm your turbulent mind, but it is hopeless. Each shift calls attention to the throbbing in between your thighs, their thickness both a blessing and a curse. But your mind is still eager to race into dark territory. The night of your dreams is accompanied by your mountain of insecurities. 

You’ve been intimate with others before, but that was of a low time where you hid parts of yourself to please others. 

There will be no more of that. He will know you. All of you. Even if it means he does not want you after. 

With mind set, you find him in the clearing by the lake, his large hand upon the rough bark of a tree in silent communion. When turns to greet you, the relief and excitement in his eyes brightens the world around you both, and instills you with courage. 

All thoughts of revealing your most authentic self blow away with the breeze when Halsin relieves himself of his clothes. Standing proudly naked before you, he sweeps you up in his arms, his kiss as passionate and devouring as he promised, with roaming hands settling on your plump rear.

All of your insecurities come back to nag you all at once, and you break away from the kiss. “Wait, please.”

“What is it, my love?”

Crossing your arms, you begin to pace. The movement helps focus your thoughts, and you take a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m fat,” you begin with the simplest statement of your imagined deficiencies. “For most of my life now I’ve been various sizes of fat, and I’m probably always going to be fat. I don’t want to be. I didn’t choose it. I have stretch marks, flabby arms, back fat.”  

Your voice begins to shake as tears well in your eyes. “Yes, I’ve shrunk a bit these past few weeks, but it’s not enough! Not nearly enough. Because even if I do lose all this weight,” you pause, feeling the pressure build within–a truth so long known but never said aloud, ready to burst out of your chest whether you will it or not.

“I will still hate myself!” The first sob rips from your throat as the emotional dam is broken, shaking your entire being.

Halsin rushes to you, enveloping you in his embrace, cradling your head to his chest. 

“Beauty is not about size, little duck. Variety provides necessary balance in nature, and there is no shame in taking joy from its fruits. Your inner peace is what truly matters.”

Only now it occurs to you that he has also been judged for his size. Maybe not all negative, but that is not to say it did not have an ill-effect on his self-esteem and outward personality. 

After you stop shaking, he coaxes you to meet his gaze. Eyes red and puffy, you do as he wishes, taking in every beautiful detail of his face before settling on his eyes, as serene as the lake before you. 

“I love you as you are, stretch marks and all.” He strokes your face gently and then takes your hands in his. “Let me show you.”

Halsin guides you to the lake’s edge, and positions himself behind you, leaning both your bodies forward. The view is exquisite, but you know it is not what holds his attention. Cautious eyes follow the ripples of the water, slowly casting down until you see your reflection. 

Halsin smiles when you meet his mirrored gaze, wrapping his arms around your waist. The angle is unflattering, to say the least, but you are willing to try this for him. The heat off his bare skin is a comfort, but also a reminder that your clothes are what separates your skin from his. 

“If you are comfortable, I’d like you to undress. To look upon yourself as you do, and be comforted in my desire.”

Comfortable is not something that would describe you in this moment, but you feel ready to reveal yourself to him. Closing your eyes, you still your mind to the symphony of the world around you; crickets singing, a light breeze coming off the lake, and Halsin’s steady breathing as he nuzzles his nose into your hair. Heart fluttering in your chest, you take your shirt off with nervous hands. 

After helping you discard the fabric, he is instantly upon you, trailing kisses down the side of your face until he’s sucking at your neck. You melt into him, tilting your head to reveal more skin for him to worship with his soft lips. 

Rough fingers tickle at your waist with feather-light grazes, you giggle at the feeling and place your hands over his. Lacing your fingers in between his, you move with him as he explores your waist. 

Heat rushes to your core as you feel his cock twitch against your back. You grow impatient, moving his hands to hold your breasts. He moans into your neck, pulling you against him while gently squeezing. 

“More, please. I need to see all of you,” he pleads breathlessly in your ear, thumbs pulling down the hem of your bra. 

You pull away for only a second, the ambient temperature feels so cool compared to your combined heat. Gooseflesh prickles at your arms, and as you discard your bra, you can’t help but admire your form in the water below. Nipples hard from the cold air soon find shelter in Halsin’s large hands, and his heat blankets you in a blissful stupor once again. 

Lust pools in your mind, overpowering any insecurities still swirling within. Only thoughts of him remain, and you need no further instruction to take the next step. Your panties cling to your pants as you pull them down. Halsin provides an arm for you to balance while slipping them off, and you come face to face when you toss the unwanted clothing further onto land. 

You’d pounce on him, but he quickly turns you around to face the lake again with a playful chuckle.

“Almost, my love. Look how extraordinarily beautiful you are, just as nature intended.” 

There you are, indeed. There’s your belly that you’ve loathed, the fat thighs that have been your bane, your double chin that distracts you from your beautiful face. Yet, with him at your back, your perspective begins to change, and you can see this body as yourself instead of some ugly, fat thing.

Halsin trails one hand down your stomach, over your stretch marks, and cups the plush overhang, squishing slightly as he smooths his palm back up your body, feeling the entirety of your curves.

All of your fears dissipate with the irrevocable proof of his attraction digging into your back, and you turn to face him. This time, he allows you, his hands grabbing your ass greedily. You run your hands up his body, relishing the feel of his coarse hair covering his chest and stomach. He moans softly at your touch, but something else starts to happen. 

His eyes begin to glow as he backs away from you in haste. The transformation is something you have seen many times, but never did you see the emotion behind it.

There is nothing as flattering as a partner losing themselves so utterly in a shared moment. Changing back just as fast, he flashes you a sheepish grin. 

Halsin starts to speak, but your patience is at its limit, and you run up to him, pulling him down for a kiss before he can utter a single word. 

Having regained his confidence through your kiss, he leads you back to the tree he was initially at, kneeling at its base. He leads you down to him, laying you down on the softest grass you’ve ever felt. There is a fleeting taste of his passion-full lips as he kisses his way down to your breasts, taking his time to kiss each one before descending further. 

Halsin’s lips against your stomach tickle in a touch-starved way, adding coal to the fire raging inside your core. He slips his arms underneath your knees, bending and spreading your legs. Supporting himself on his elbows, he reaches around, parting your lips by pulling your flesh toward your belly button. 

The first soft kiss upon your exposed clit has you gasping for air, hands grabbing fistfuls of grass at your side. It was only the calm before the storm; a single taste of honey is not nearly enough to satiate the beast between your thighs, and he shows you no mercy. 

Tongue lapping at your cunt from entrance to throbbing bud, Halsin has you squirming under his touch. Just as you think his pleasure is at its peak, he suckles your clit.

Toe curling, back arching, you scream his name as you reach carnal heights you never thought possible.

You whine when he stops, but when you see his swollen cock twitching between his legs, you know exactly what he needs. He lets you push him back onto the grass, helping you straddle him with a steadying hand. Cock nestled perfectly between your folds, you nuzzle his nose with yours before he pulls you into a passionate kiss. The taste of you is intoxicating as you drink in his moans, slide your hips against him, obscenely slick.

Ever hungry for more, you explore his body with your mouth, hips never ceasing their slow but steady rock. Thick, muscled neck, tender for kissing. Pronounced pecks perfect for light, teasing bites. Sensitive nipples ripe for sucking. Veiny arms that your lips could kiss for days. The faded but still visible stretch marks around his shoulders that now hold a special place within your heart, and you kiss each one of them.

You worship him, mind and body just as he does with his burly hands ever present on your lust-driven body. His touch now bruising, he tries to push into you with each thrust, soft moans turning into desperate grunts.

He catches at your entrance, but you tilt your hips so he passes over your clit once again. You shiver at the feeling, and cannot help the laugh that accompanies the bliss.

Teasing Halsin is just so fucking hot.

With an animalistic growl, he rolls you onto your back, having had enough of your shenanigans. Your sounds of glee quickly turn lewd as his cock finally finds purchase, stretching you delightfully with his mighty girth. 

Even with a mind lost to passion, he takes your comfort into account, pushing in slowly to let you adjust. His hungry mouth kisses your face, your lips, your jaw, your neck, until your canting, impatient hips break the last thread of his self control.

Burying his nose in your hair, one hand holding your breast, hips pumping, he makes love to you under the stars. You wrap your arms around him, holding onto his back to keep from being pushed away from the force of his hips. Your voices are a sweet, rhythmic chorus to nature as you feel a fluttering grow in your core. Halsin relinquishes his grip on your breast, hooking his hand underneath one of your knees to spread you further.

He reaches new heights within you, and you feel his cock harden more than you thought possible, readying to fill you with the nature’s bounty you’ve been craving. Your hands slip down to his ass, needing all of him inside you.

Your wants ever his desire, he buries his cock inside you and ruts, massaging the bundle of nerves deep within. Your fingers cling to him, leaving red lines down back unintentionally as the chord within finally snaps. Walls fluttering around him before clenching down, the waves of pleasure overtake you both, and he is a helpless passenger in its wake. He says your name like a prayer as his hips stutter in their rhythm. 

Cradling him close as you feel his cock pulse, you whisper in his ear, “I love you, Halsin.”

That mystical night under the stars with Halsin was legendary. Its memory, as well as the man himself, helps you through the rest of your quest, picking you up when you are down. All you need to do is close your eyes, and you’re right back in that clearing by the lake with him beside you.

You do not know if you would have gotten through it all without him. By the time you defeat the Netherbrain, you are the thinnest you’ve been since childhood, and also the most sickly. Stronger muscles and better food is not enough in the face of true exhaustion, and it shows in your gaunt face. 

The celebration with Halsin that night is sweet and gentle, containing all the relief of a battle hard won. You cannot help the tears that fall from your eyes as you reach your climaxes together.

It all feels like a dream. How could you have made it through all that alive and relatively well? With him at your side? A man as loving as he is large, he still does not impose anything on you. Talking as if there could be a chance you wouldn’t be going with him to resettle Moonrise Towers. 

You depart in the morning with nine wagons full of kids of various ages, all without families or homes, and your bear at your side. 

The savior of Baldur’s Gate is a bit rich for your liking, but it does give you a certain air of respect when you have to give them time-outs.

Halsin calls them all his ducklings, and it is so very fitting with how they follow him around from dawn till dusk. 

When you receive a letter with shaky lettering inviting you to the place where it all began, you’re more than happy to reunite with everyone. The time without doom hanging over your heads has certainly made you both plump and happy. You still struggle with body image issues, but you feel comfortable in your skin more often than not. A battle that is waning in your favor, with once barren fields blooming with slow acceptance.

Your appetite for life has always been large. Giant partner, a heap of kids to call your own, and enough tall tales to last them well into adulthood; you want for nothing in the years to come. 

With Halsin you build a loving home–an ending you never thought you deserved. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Hazbin Hotel Ep1 Rewrite

Okay, let’s get the shit I like first out of the way. Animation? Beautiful. Art style? Iconic. Music? Pops off.

Okay, now the fun part…

First let me just say, I adore biblical lore. So when I see something changed from the og lore, where I think the og was more interesting, I cannot let it go.

(I’m gonna focus on the Charlie storyline in the episode)

1. The Backstory

Let’s start with the first scene, the backstory of Lucifer and Lilith. In the show, they got some of the timeline and motivations wrong. I understand that the story is sugar coated, but hear me out.

“Once upon a time, there was a dazzling kingdom protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. Home to beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and lived in peace and harmony under the rule of God. The most beautiful of the Angels was Lucifer. He was a dreamer, with fantastical ideas for all creation. But he was restricted by God and the elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Outraged by this injustice, Lucifer gathered an army of Angels, and declared war on the kingdom of Heaven. The battle raged on for centuries, but in the end, Heaven reigned victorious. As punishment for their betrayal, Lucifer and his army were cast out of Heaven. Banished to a crumbling wasteland, where the light of God could not reach. But Lucifer would not wallow in failure. From the barren landscape he rose a beautiful golden palace, crowned himself king and crafted a plan to share his freedom with God’s newest creation. Humanity.”

(I like to imagine that when Lucifer and his army fell, their wings burned up, leaving scattered feathers everywhere. In order to fly to Eden, Lucifer gathered these burned feathers and turned them into a new pair of wings for himself. They were black, messy, and trailed billowing smoke, but they could fly.)

Now for the Lilith part of the story. The more popular interpretation of her is that she is the first wife of Adam, but there is another version too, one where she is Adam’s second Wife after Eve. I personally prefer the latter because I can’t see anyone sinning or getting cast out of Edan before Eve eats the apple.

“He approached the garden of Edan in disguise, and offered the forbidden fruit of knowledge to the mother of humanity, Eve, who gladly accepted. But with the gift of knowledge and freedom, came a terrible curse. Evil bleed into the earth, and humanity was infected by darkness and sin.

For her disobedience Eve was cast out of Edan, to the dismay of her love, Adam. To appease him, the Angels crafted him a new bride, Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, with a voice so enchanting even Lucifer was mesmerized, but she was strong willed and refused to be subservient to her new husband. She fled from the garden, and rather than chase her, Adam found the tree of knowledge and bit into the forbidden fruit, so he could follow his true love, and be with her once more.

Lilith wandered, lost and alone, until she was found by Lucifer. Enamored by her beauty and iron will, he gave her his heart and made her his queen.”

Then you have the bit about Lucifer becoming depressed while Lilith thrived in Hell. I hate this! I was looking forward to a demonic Mortica and Gomez, not another Stolas and Stella. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of uwu sad misunderstood Lucifer. He is a complex character, but too often he’s over simplified by people who read Paradise Lost in high school and misinterpreted Lucifer as a tragic anti hero who was treated unfairly by the evil Angels. Lucifer can be tragic, even sympathetic. He can be fun and a caring father. But don’t forget that he is king of Hell. He is the prince of pride. He has an ego the size of east Texas and waged war against God himself.

And let’s not forget that in the show he is the head honcho over a strict cast system that encourages violence, allows the worst of the worst to take power, and leaves the hellborn races at the bottom at a severe disadvantage.

In this rewrite, Lucifer and Lilith essentially switch places, except Lilith isn’t a pathetic push over, she’s an incredibly famous rockstar, who’s always busy and not around often, but still has a bigger role in her daughter’s life than her husband, who’s been mia doing king shit.

And the last thing we hear about in the intro monologue is that the exterminations happens to prevent Hell from rising against them, which while that may be the case, don’t have Charlie say it!!! That realization for her would make the entire hotel superfluous! Charlie has to think that the problem truly is overpopulation.

2. Meeting with Adam

Let’s start with Adam himself. I hate this character. Especially as an adaptation of Adam. Yes, Adam is misogynistic. He expected Lilith to be subservient to him, but he wouldn’t be the frat boy type of misogynist, he’d be the old school chivalrous type. Grandpa style sexism. And shouldn’t the father of humanity care about his descendants? It doesn’t make any sense for him to be an executioner. He should be the leader of the guardian Angels or something.

In this rewrite, Adam is not the leader of the executioners, instead it’s the Angel Dumah. Dumah is the angel over the wicked dead, and he was appointed by God to torment sinners in Hell.

I want him to be an actual intimidating antagonist. He rarely speaks (his name means “silence”) and has many eyes (is described as having a thousand eyes)

As for the exorcists, they are Angels, but not actual dead humans wearing mask. They just look like that. Dumah is described as having tens of thousands of Angels of Destruction at his disposal. That’s what the exorcists are going to be, but instead of thousands, I’ll give him five. They don’t speak and are hardly sentient. They stand on top of the tower like gargoyles, until they “come to life” for the execution.

“But it’s a comedy! Shouldn’t they be funny?” No. It’s all about how characters react to them. The Litch in Adventure Time is a good example of this.

So obviously the meeting goes a lot differently.

Charlie gets a call, looks at the number, and excitedly tells everyone to, “shooooosh!” She takes the call nervously, saying, “yeah! Okay! Yes! Of course! I’ll be right there! Thank you SOOO much!!!” She hangs up and happily tells Vaggie that Dumah requested a meeting with her. Vaggie is nervous and says she should probably go with her, but Charlie says that she’ll be fine and tells her to stay and work on the commercial. She leaves excited that the Angels may finally be taking her seriously.

She makes it to the clock tower’s board room, where Dumah sits silently at the end of the table. Charlie nervously starts to greet him before she realizes they’re not alone. The Angels, Gabriel and Uriel have come from Heaven, for a meeting with Hell’s princess.

Uriel remains professional, politely bowing her head as she greeted Charlie. Gabriel on the other hand, threw his arms out, happily yelling, “Charlotte!!!” He wrapped her in an uncomfortably tight and awkward hug, saying how much she’s grown since he last saw her. He’s like a chill but estranged uncle meeting his now adult niece who he hasn’t seen since she was a baby and has no memory of him whatsoever.

Uriel watches the whole thing in embarrassment. She tells Charlie that Dumah had contacted them, regarding some, “interesting,” ideas about the extermination.

Charlie starts with her pitch, but Gabriel insists that they should take some time to catch up first. He claps his hands and summons plates of food for everyone. When we cut back to them, Gabriel is in the middle of telling the story about almost getting his ass kicked by Joseph when he told him his virgin wife was pregnant.

Uriel cuts him off, saying she doesn’t need to hear this story for the eighth millionth time. She turns to Charlie, exasperated, and tells her to get on with the pitch.

Charlie says that she has a potential solution for the over population problem in Hell. Uriel, Gabriel, and Dumah look at her blankly. Gabriel asks, “overpopulation?”

Charlie goes on to explain that she knows overpopulation is a big problem, but 275 sinners were executed this year alone and she just can’t stand to watch her people be slaughtered anymore.

Uriel asks if she’s suggesting an alternative, and Charlie very excitedly pitches her idea for the hotel. Uriel and Gabriel wear a matching “wtf” face and look back and forth at eachother like, “does this girl know what she’s suggesting?”

As Charlie is finishing, Uriel is visibly annoyed. She interrupts Charlie, complaining that this is ridiculous and has all been a massive waste of time as she stands up to leave. Charlie tries to stop her, saying, “please, you don’t understand.”

Uriel snaps back, “no, you don’t understand! They had their chance in life and they earned damnation.”

Charlie responds, “you're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Uriel pinches the bridge of her nose (or where a nose would be on a person) “a mistake happens once. It’s an accident, an error in judgment due to naivety. Of course mistakes can be forgiven, but we’re not talking about mistakes, are we? These sinners had a choice, and they chose to live in sin.”

“A choice they now regret!” Charlie defends.

“It takes a lot more than regret to be forgiven.” Uriel says coldly. “It takes remorse.”

Gabriel chimes in, “she has a point, Charlie. It’s easy to make someone regret their actions, but to have them feel true selfless remorse, that is much more difficult.”

Charlie furrows her brow and starts to look defeated.

“But perhaps not impossible.”

Charlie beams with excitement. Gabriel explains that this is a big decision, too big to be made right now, but if she can successfully redeem one demon, they will allow her to come to heaven and pitch her idea to the entire Angelic court. Uriel tries to argue, but Gabriel just says they’ll discuss it later. Charlie gives him a tight hug before he and Uriel disappear.

As she turns to leave, Dumah puts his hand on her shoulder. This is the first time he’s moved in the entire scene. He stares at her coldly and says, “the only reason you’re here is your father has spared you from the executioner’s blade. If I had my way. Each and every one of you would be slaughtered.”

Charlie stares up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For context, part of the reason Gabriel and Uriel were initially confused by Charlie’s proposal is because they know that Lucifer is trying to keep Hell’s population as high as possible, in preparation for the second war with heaven. That’s why he and the other princes of hell work to manipulate humanity and temp them towards sin (i.e. succubi and incubi). That’s why he arranges marriages between powerful demons to make powerful demon children (i.e. Stolas and Stella). He needs as many demons possible for his army if he’s gonna have a chance at winning. So obviously, sending sinners to heaven, aka the opposing force, is the LAST thing Lucifer would want.

[a-d-nox]

human design: the mind

the mind is considered the place where your thoughts come from. this is where heuristics are born - information is filtered, actions are rationalized, and understanding occurs. not everything is accurate based on what gates are conscious. this is where anxiety, obsessive thoughts, and overthinking begins. but also ideas, thoughts, and other ideas.

defined mind: human computer, constantly reviewing and/or researching, information overload, professional worrier, nitpicking, looking from problems where none exist, can't turn off thoughts, etc.

undefined mind: lax, contemplative, forgetful, clarity amongst chaos, other people's problems become yours, wanting to help others before helping yourself, openminded, being able to read what others are likely thinking, etc.

gates

4 - problem solver: fixing, solutions for problems that don't exist, over-preparedness, needing to always be doing something, puzzle lovers, can't understand something and getting anxiety from not being able to understand, over fixation, needing to lighten up, cleverness, having an answer for everything, whats relevant, etc.

11 - harmonious: imaginative, social harmony, utopia, seeking peace, consideration of others, fresh ideas, constant evolution, responsibility to others, change for the better, etc.

17 - follower: agree v. disagree, flexible thoughts, diplomatic v. healthy debater, opinionated, logical mindedness, understanding, forcefulness, fairness, opinions about everything, dogmatic, fixed on your own views, balance, impartialness, quality over quantity, etc.

24 - returns: rationalizing, constantly playing back the tapes, screenshots/receipts, preoccupied, interest in forensics, finding missing clues, conceptualizing, theorizing, set in your ways, etc.

43 - breakthrough: deep thoughts, one step ahead, unable to express self clearly, profound, wise, shifting everyone's perspective, wrapped up in your own thoughts, stubborn, unconcerned with other people thoughts, etc.

47 - realizing: thinking constantly, love for puzzles, lots of lightbulb moments, problem solver, abstract thinking, etc.

no gates: openminded, overwhelmed by everyone else's thoughts and worries, constantly reflecting on the world around you, getting cluttered with other peoples mental chatter, etc.

channels that connect from the crown to the mind

channels that connect from the mind to the throat

11 -> 56 - curious: seeking the meaning in life, insatiable, wanting to share new information with everyone, speaking your mind, excessive interest in a lot of things, interest in multiple beliefs systems, seeking firsthand experience, etc.

17 -> 62 - organized: strategic, logically minded, absorbing the facts and details available, giving concrete opinions and recommendations, well informed, futuristically minded, methodical, opinionated, enjoying debating with others, etc.

43 -> 23 - structured: giving insight, breaking new ground, changing the views of others, open 3rd eye, empowering others, provoking the reactions of others, lightyears ahead of everyone else, tactful, genius, authentic, confident, blurting things out, etc.

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[fanficsdumpomg]

John Dory Boyfriend Headcannons

*John Dory and y'all met during his brozone days, you were in a band that frequently opened for them. You both met during an afterparty and you hit it off.

*John Dory and you would constantly spend time after shows, you got closer to his brothers during this time as well and became like a big sister to baby Branch. However, as much as you cared about John Dory you never wanted to take your relationship to the next level for fear of crazy fans.

*Your relationship came to a head after the big brozone concert where John had wanted to perfect the perfect family harmony, you didn't hear from him after the show so you went back to his family's pod to discover they had all quit the band and left baby branch alone.

*Feeling angered and Sad at JD's disappearance and leaving his brother behind you decided to help Rosiepuff take care of Baby Branch. After Rosiepuff's death, you however became like a parent to to branch.

*In the years that followed Branch had grown out of his shell and met his bff now girlfriend Poppy who helped him become a better person. You couldn't be more proud of him but where did this leave you? You spent so long taking care of him what were you going to do now?

*These feelings continued to build but you pushed it down with hobbies, these feelings exploded however on the day of Bridget and Gristle's wedding an unexpected guest appeared.

*JD was back and you were pissed not only for leaving you without a single word but only now showing up when he needed something from his brother.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...I was so young and angry I didn't give anything else a second thought but I have never stopped loving you."

*You didn't accept his apology and wanted nothing more to do with him but when Branch had agreed to go on the rescue mission to save Floyd you immediately wanted to go feeling that motherly instinct to protect Branch Arrise again. Also, you could take care of cute little Tiny diamond who had managed to sneak his way on Rhonda so this was a win-win for you.

*Getting in Rhonda, y'all set off to find Spruce and came across Vacay Isle; where a spruce turned Bruce now worked with his wife and family. After some convincing you guys managed to get Bruce to come along but not before performing to show/prove to his kids that yes, he was in a band.

*During the performance you were glad to see how happy Branch was with his brothers again and when he pulled Poppy on stage, John Dory pulled you up on stage as well where y'all performed the last verse of the song.

"I forgot how fun it was to perform with everyone... especially you <3."

*Okay, JD still has the band charm you see; but it will not work on you you tell yourself no matter how much you blush.

*Moving on with Bruce, you were well on your way to collect Clay and on the way over you were finally civil enough that you and JD could have a talk about what the two of you had been doing the last 15+ years. You told John all about how you cared for Branch at that time (which John thanked you for) and John Dory talked about his time hiking the Neverglade trail.

"Sounds...interesting to say the least, you'll have to bring me on your next adventure JD." you said smiling resting a hand on his.

*You had finally reached Clay after Branch's brilliant yet gross plan to have Rhonda track Clay with his old Funder Underwear.

*Arriving at the abandoned gold course you meet Clay and Viva the leader of the putt-putt trolls and as it would turn out Poppy's long-lost sister.

*After Viva and Poppy went off to reconnect, Clay informed you of her tragic backstory on how she was separated from King Peppy and Poppy during the night of the troll escape. Clay also let you know that Viva is very protective over the trolls she protects here so unfortunately you would have to leave Poppy behind if you all wanted to get a move on to get to MT. Rageous.

*Unfortunately, Viva did discover y'all as you were about to leave and shut the gates effectively trapping you inside. You were however able to escape with Poppy due to Clay opening the gate again but left behind a broken-hearted Viva.

*Now you were on you were way to Mt. Rageous and the gang + poppy decided to have a little practice session which in your opinion was going very well until John Dory stopped it claiming it wasn't perfect enough. Feeling frustrated everyone lashed out and him especially Branch who was disappointed when he learned that his brothers planned to split up once again after they saved Floyd. He stormed out of Rhonda with a distraught Poppy following behind him

*You were incredibly angry not Just at John Dory this time but at the rest of them, how could they be so insensitive towards their little brother.

"You know what John Dory, you have hurt your little brother and me for the last time. You better hope when we get to MT. Rageous that he is okay 'cause I will end you!" And with that, you stormed off towards the back of Rhonda.

*And you stayed at the back of Rhonda till MT. Rageous where you were kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer. Velvet and Veneer had no use for you so they threw you for draining purposes but Velvet thought it might be cute to use you as a little good luck charm and captured you in one of her diamond earrings. Poppy and Branch confronted the two of them at the entrance to the rage dome and outed them as liars/frauds which prompted their roadshow in their car.

*Horrified you watched the brothers get drained as Branch, Poppy, and Tiny Diamond raced to save you on the MT. Rageous freeway. They eventually got aided by Bridget, Gristle, and Viva and managed to corner the Popstars on a boat.

*The fight was tough and they managed to free John Dory, Clay, Bruce, and You but not Floyd. And in one last attempt, the seven of you performed hoping to achieve the perfect family harmony. It worked and you were able to save Floyd at last, shattering the diamond prisons that trapped both you and the brothers.

"John Dory...getting kidnapped made me realize that I have never stopped loving you no matter how big-headed and stupid you are. The time we spent together these last few days has made me realize that you are still the silly goofy boy I fell in love with all those years ago." You said smiling.

"I love you too, Y/N!" he shouted with a grin pulling you into a kiss.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - A Lot Ended, Quite Bit Started, I got things to say about it all

Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Nov 2023 Wk 2

Ongoing Series - Thai

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) 3 of 8 - This is just a great BL. So fun with few frills and paced nicely. Thai talent + Korean story is proving very harmonious for narrative flow. I’m delighted. I love that they don’t shy away from letting Tew be an actual violent criminal who is just gone and mushy for this one geeky cutie. Also I appreciate it when a show hangs a lantern on its own plot failing. In this case, the main character being drunk as a plot devise 2x in subsequent eps.

Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 2 of 10 - Love it. Love Spite and his chronic guilt over his younger brother, the golden child. Love that he is driven to repair for a past that no longer exists. Evil mom who cares more for what her son can do than that son, let alone his brother. The volleyball well…. erm. I played varsity (setter) so this is amusing to me but I’m not mad about it. 

I agree that this Not Me just sports and pulp. 

Last Twilight (Fri YT) 1 of 12 - JimmySea are back and is this... good? Do I like this? I don't have faith, GMMTV has been doing us dirty lately. But I think I like it! Why The Little Prince AGAIN? Ugh. 

Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI 1 of 8 - Domundi giving us an office comedy hyung romance staring TutorYim (Cutie Pie) with NetJames (Bed Friend) and LeoTai (Friend Forever) providing support. Lets hope they stick to only 8 eps. Buckle up, I got shit talking to type.

I warned ya out the gate that this is a Cheewin comedy, so tonally it could be very OFF, and boy howdy is it EVER off. There's a place this kind of show goes where it's so cringe it's visually rotten and this one went there out that gate. Also, I'm gonna say it because no one else has, Yim is not good in this role. Comedy is HARD to do and Cheewin isn't doing this green actor any favors. He's chewing the scenery like a woodchuck after a diet.

To be fair, Tutor isn't great either, but he's been given less rope to hang himself with. Mai is currently suffering from seme obscurity: the love interest's defining characterization being = tall and handsome. (Which is not characterization... agony... glares at Cdramas.) We will see if he gets a personality, but based on past work form this director and this writer, don't bank on it.

Frankly? I'm not convinced either of them are mature enough as a pair or as actors to carry something this abrasive and to stand up to Cheewin's visual abuse of our eyeballs. I think this is going to be a rocky ride. HOWEVER, because it has tropes I'm good with (as opposed to SCOY) I'm sticking with it for now but this is gonna be ROUGH going for everyone.

Backstory: This used to be a JimmyTommy vehicle before the pair split (also prev title Middle Love). Adapted from a Y-novel. I can actually see Tommy in this role very clearly and I suspect he may have been bettern(and I am more a TutorYim fan as a pair). Also I will likely be referencing SCOY a lot while watching this because SCOY is peak Cheewin nonsense comedy but with an incredibly strong lead pair, so comparisons will be drawn.

Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 7 of 12 - Sigh. Linguistic negotiation but for sad reasons? It fascinating but it hurts. Look, the cast is very good I just don’t like the premise.

My Universe (Sun iQIYI) The Camp Fire ep 12 of 24 - Well that was extremely odd. I’m not sure how I feel about it. If it hadn’t had the strange framework and horror component and been just a simple BL story I probably would’ve enjoyed it. Why do the pulps always  squander their best pairs? 5/10 New installment (Friends Forever) looks terrible and not BL.

Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) qp 1 of 8 - House of Stars meets Boyband. I am not impressed. Thailand just needs to leave everything music related to Korea. I’m enacting a ban. The framework on this is truly awful. The talent is not talented in acting let alone dance or song. I thought about sticking with it a few more eps but i putting in on hold. It’s too wooden even for me.

@heretherebedork I depend on you to report back. This is the kind of thing only you can watch. It’s like Cupid 2023. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

A Breeze of Love (Korea iQIYI) 1-2 of 8 - previously know as Weather Forecast Love this one popped up in MDL's currently airing, and I was like, what what? Basically: Tsundere insomniac grump and his sunshine jock ex bestie (human sleeping pill) who now hates him. Basketball is involved and I love it.

It ended, are we sad? REVIEWS

Kiseki: Dear to Me (Taiwan Viki & Gaga)

Yes, we sad! Ai Di and his dumb oversized sweaters and flappy flappy sleeves are EVERYTHING.

Final ep? Nice that the elder gays got screen time, more of this please? Sides dominated this finale, matched outfits and all. Also I’m living for the Bless this Mess shirt. Finally Taiwan gave us lots of biting and a counter lift. It’s like they know me!

Quick pitch for KDTM?  

The plot is totally ridiculous and slightly unhinged, but that’s normal for Taiwan. It involves all the tropes under a very casual framework of gay mafia gangs + food = love. Absolutely every character is queer. There’s a gum-ball machine of cameos, elder gay rep, great chemistry from all pairs, and a KILLER side couple. As a result Kiseki is a poster child for Taiwanese BL, and I happen to love Taiwanese BL. Bonus? They also managed to END IT WELL, which we cannot expect from Taiwan. 9/10 HIGHLY RECOMMENDED 

Triggers for knife play, child abuse, lingering trauma. I found both platforms did not do a great job on subs, but I will give the edge to Viki for pure usability.

You Are Mine (Taiwan Viki & Gaga)

We are more disappointed than sad.

Far be it from me to extend this show, but we should’ve had 2 episodes of quality supportive boyfriends coping with family drama before the mom-confrontation climax and defense of the ESTABLISHED relationship. Baby's little speach had no power or impact coming where it did in this narrative, even though it was sweet. And while the make-out scenes were charming it mostly jsut felt like we'd squandered this pair. This last ep was good and rewatchable, but a series cannot be judged on its last ep alone.

Finally... could have used some side dishes. My vote? Lesbian secretaries!

Conclusion 

I am sorry Taiwan, you know I love you, but I have to say it: this show was a mess of terrible pacing. And not a hot mess, sadly. I should have liked everything about this: it’s an office drama, it’s mature characters, it’s grumpy/sunshine, it’s a strong power dynamic, and it’s Taiwan - which means good chemistry. YAM was all those things and yet… something went horribly wrong with the narrative structure. You tried dears, but not hard enough. 7/10 

Bump Up Business (Korea Gaga)

Well, poop. Don’t have them speak English. Also no playing drunk. Meanwhile, all the manipulative gay drama. No kiss of course.

How do I summate this?

An idol group did the best they could with a script tailored to idols but which they were not allowed to fully realize because they are active idols in the same group. Ultimately it felt a bit like OnlyOneOf were just doing one of those Kpop skits for a variety show were two of of them dresses in drag/gay/BL and "ha ha isn't it funny?" I don’t know, it was fine? 6/10

stop wasting my time, Korea

Mr Cinderella 2 (Vietnam YT)

DNF on the advice of several of my BL spies I will not be finishing this. Apparently it pretty much ends sad. Here's an explanation.

It's Airing But...

I Cannot Reach You AKA I Can't Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan Tues Netflix-Japan & ????) 8 eps - in classic JBL fashion, I Cannot Reach You could not be reached. I will try it when I have some time and access to my home computer.

One Room Angel (Japan Gaga) 6 eps - adaptation of Harada’s manga (which I did not like) about a clerk who's stabbed, nearly dies, and returns home to find an angel waiting for him. With only 5 eps and a good chance this won’t end happy, I'm gonna wait and let you tell me how it goes.

WAITING FOR VERDICT OR TO BINGE

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until it completes its run.

SHADOW (Thai Gaga) 14eps - this is a horror BL with ghosts & paranormal elements in a boarding school setting. I'm not wild about Thai horror (or horror at all). It features Singto (who did paranormal BL He's Coming to Me) opposite Fluke N (who's done a couple horror's before). Also Fiat. Dan suffers from sleep paralysis, and in his dreams he sees a shadow that suffocates him. It gets worse when he transfers schools. I'm holding off on this one and if told it's good I'll binge watch.

Next Week Looks Like This

11/15 Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru AKA Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo (Japan Gaga) - this BL movie is coming to Gaga.

11/16 PLAYBOYY (Thurs ????) 10 eps - trailer here, high heat and it's helmed by Cheewin (shudder) with screenplay by Den (Only Friends) under Copy A Bangkok. It's gonna be a shizz show people. It's predicting Thai style "dark" (War of Y) one of my least favorites. Apparently there is a "plot" but when has Cheewin ever bothered with plot? A university kid who was involved with escorts, sex-trade, porn, online hook-ups, drugs, prostitution, blackmail, revenge, and so forth goes missing. His twin (sigh) and two friends look for him.

11/17 Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 1 of 14 - high heat teaser here, based on alittlebixth's omegaverse novel #พิษเบ๊บ’ set in the world of car racing (author says show will not be omegaverse). Charlie (fresh face), a young hot nerd, approaches his driver idol (Pavel "my love" 2 Moons 2) to borrow a racing car and win one for the team. Production house is new to BL but behind the Club Friday stuff. Show stars many known actors: Nut (Oxygen), Pop (Ram in La Cuisine), Pon (Phai in Gen Y, we LOVE him), Benz (twins in En of Love: This Is Love Story).

Thailand bring the November heat, I guess?

Upcoming November BL

11/19 Bake Me Please (Sun Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - trailer here, stars Ohm (of OhmFluke) opposite Guide (bestie from IFYLITA) and possibly also Poom (well known, but not for BL). This looks like an actually gay version of Antique Bakery (play it again, BL). Still, I'm intrigued, it looks HELLA pretty.

11/22 7 Days Before Valentine (Weds ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk. Adapted from y-novel of the same name, directed by Tu (180 Degree) stars Jet (Why You… Y Me?). When you want your old love again, but fate sends you a reaper instead. All he can do for you is kill people. I'll likely give this a pass and wait to binge if safe.

11/25 The Sign (Sat ????) ep 1 of 10 - trailer here, horror-esk, but with a suspense and adult characters. Special investigators who loved each other in previous lives reunite in new bodies. Stars Billy Patchanon (BillySeng) & Babe Tanatat (new). Includes other SCOY favorites as a special investigation team. I may give this a try because I'm into the non-horror bits.

11/26 The Whisperer (Sun ????) 1 of 10 - trailer here. Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). He has dimples (My Ride) but I don't think even that gives me the will. Maybe a binge for me.

11/26 Cooking Crush (Sun YT) 1 of 12 - OffGun are back, trailer here. Adapted from the novel “Love Course! เสื้อกาวน์รุกเสื้อกุ๊กรับ” by iJune4S this is about Prem who runs a not-so-popular restaurant with 2 friends. About to go on a cooking competition with a huge reward, Prem gets involved with Ten, a stressed-out med student who wants Prem to teach him to cook.

11/30 For Him (Thurs ????) ep 1 of 10 - high heat trailer, I suspect iQIYI will scoop this one up. From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night (please no) based on a y-novel, man nursing a heartbreak has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. It looks terribly trashy so I'm in! Maybe I'll do a trash watch?

VIP Only (Taiwan) - may be delayed/canceled

Wuju Bakery AKA Space Bakery (Korea) - this one may be DOA

A Breeze of Love (Korea) - I know less than nothing about this.

Nov 2023 line up with screen caps here. Not kept updated.

Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED).

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

This is in the intro card of My Dear Gangster Oppa, I'm just amusing myself.

Thank you Keseki for givign this to us twice!

Also the tears! So pretty crying.

And, of course, my favorite the biting!

Have I mentioned recently how much I love Taiwanese BL?

(Last week)

[zoloteh-volossya]

The Baldur's Gate Cast as the Elements of Harmony

Last night, spurred by whimsy and a little nostalgia, I decided to slam together one of my first fandoms with my current one. I present to you… the Baldur's Gate cast as wielders of the Elements of Harmony!

(Please note that I stopped paying attention to MLP:FiM after season 4, so my takes will not reflect later developments in the show.)

The Element of Magic

(Source for the Twilight vector)

This one's a slam dunk, a no-brainer (ironically). Both Gale and Twilight Sparkle are bookworms who were so gifted in magic that they attracted the attention of the most powerful magic user in their setting, who proceeded to lavish special attention on them while also sending them out on personal tasks. Both of them were so desperate to please this figure that they end up endangering a city/town as a result of their attempts to impress them. Both start their media franchises friendless except for a long suffering familiar who is in many ways more put together than them and feeds them (magic items). Both of them (can) end up becoming (quasi)divine. They're like mirrors of one another, separated by genre and species.

More to the point, as a magical prodigy and Mystra's former Chosen, Gale would be very well equipped to wield the Element of Magic.

If they ever met, I think Twilight and Gale would have a very interesting discussion comparing notes on their respective magic systems. Gale would probably be seethingly jealous that Twilight's respective magical mentor not only takes an active role in her development but actually actively ascended her to alicornhood. She's the physical representative of magic in her world, not nearly Mystra level but still a quasi-deity, and also an intensely curious person. His orb would be fascinating and incredibly alarming to her, while he might be a little leery of yet another goddess of magic.

The Element of Honesty

This one was also simple. Whenever you talk to Lae'zel, she gives you her thoughts plainly, without sugarcoating them or beating around the bush. Truly, no one else on the team is as worthy of wielding the Element of Honesty as her, and she would wield it well.

If they ever met, I think that Applejack and Lae'zel would actually get along pretty well (assuming that they did not meet in the middle of a gith raid on Applejack's orchards, at least). Both of them are straight talking, hard working characters who got good at their respective thing by putting in the effort. They also both share similar roles in their respective parties, as the strong, athletic, and somewhat competitive bruiser. Applejack's strong family focus might be interesting to Lae'zel, who has never had one (but expresses interest after meeting Jaheira's.)

The Element of Generosity

(Sorry for partially covering your face, Wyll, I wanted to block Mizora for the symbolism.)

Of course, if there's a member of the BG3 cast to represent generosity, it has to be Wyll. The man has dedicated his life and his soul to serving others, albeit in a very different way than Rarity does. He gave up his soul for Baldur's Gate, his humanity for Karlach, and is willing to give up his freedom for his father. He'd give a needy man the coat off his back and Astarion the blood from his veins. He is a worthy wielder of the Element of Generosity.

If Wyll and Rarity ever met, I think they'd be great friends. Wyll is exactly the sort of noble early-season Rarity dreamed of meeting in Canterlot - kind, honorable, charming, romantic. I think Wyll would really respect Rarity's industry and the lengths that she is willing to go to for others. She's a fashion designer, so she'd probably insist on gifting him the most fashionable saddles and bridles, which I'm sure the rest of the BG3 camp would find absolutely hilarious.

The Element of Laughter

One of Karlach's most notable traits is her ability to find joy and laughter in every moment alive and free, despite her horrific past. She is a buoyant force who lifts the spirits of everyone around her, and it is for this reason that every single companion (including Minthara) likes her so much. She exemplifies the spirit of the Element of Laughter as much as a character from this genre can.

Karlach and Pinkie Pie would get along like a house on fire. ("Let's throw a party!" "YEAH!"). They're both genuinely cheerful people, but they're also using that attitude to mask other, more negative emotions that they don't want to control their lives but lurk nonetheless. But mostly they'd party together like nobody's business.

The Element of Kindness

This is honestly the biggest stretch, but I'd argue that Shadowheart could represent the Element of Kindness if she goes the Selunite path. Her arc throughout the game is basically that of a woman whose innate kindness is struggling to emerge through many layers of mind wiping and indoctrination despite Viconia's best efforts. As a Sharran, she tried to befriend and adopt a mouse. Even when she is trying her hardest to be mean in acts 1 and 2, she still approves of kind actions by others. If you give her any support at all, she defaults to abandoning her driving dream becuase she cannot bring herself to be cruel enough. And once freed of her Sharran shackles, she begins to bloom into a person truly capable of weilding the Element of Kindness.

Amusingly, a post game Shadowheart who saved her parents is living pretty much exactly the same life as Fluttershy - a cottage close to but not in a rural town where they take care of animals. I think the two of them would be able to bond over their respective menageries.

The Element of Loyalty

Last but not least, we have the Element of Loyalty, wielded by… Minthara! I know y'all were expecting Astarion, but Minthara's first dialogue upon joining the party proper (if you slept with her) highlights her loyalty specifically.

*Her entire being joins with you for a moment, and you see all that she is. Dangerous, cunning, wounded, brutal, paranoid... and utterly loyal to those she trusts.*

And loyal she is. Become the Slayer? She's with you (and thinks you're exquisite). Become a mind flayer? She's with you without a flicker of hesitation. Control the Brain? She's with you (if you spare her). Don't control the Brain? She's still with you. Prance about the city being a goody two shoes to everyone you can help? She's grumpy, but she's with you. Once Minthara finds a purpose, be that a deity or a person, she stands by them with a singleminded devotion that makes her well worthy of wielding the Element of Loyalty in my view.

If Minthara and Rainbow Dash were to meet, Minthara would likely write Rainbow Dash off as a braggadocious blowhard until she heard about the Sonic Rainboom, whereupon which she would spend an hour trying and failing to convince RD to weaponize it. Rainbow would likely find Minthara a bit curt for her tastes. If she hears of Minthara's ambitions or more violent suggestions, she might ping Minthara as a 'bad guy' and pick a fight. However, Minthara canonically reads science fiction and Rainbow Dash enjoys adventure novels, so maybe they might bond over a shared taste for genre fiction. Befriending the villains is a tried and true staple of Rainbow Dash's genre, after all.

(What about Astarion, you ask? Well, the problem with him is that he is not very magical, a consummate liar, selfish, often cruel, not particularly loyal, and his laughter is primarily at others' expense. I'm sorry, but he's just not Element of Harmony material. He's got other things going on.)

(Halsin was a runner up for Element of Kindness. Shadowheart was just far more interesting in that role, so it went to her.)

[melliae]

The Great Seal’s Design

Considering how close Episode Aigis/The Answer is to being released, I think it’s time to point out one of the most interesting design choices in the game. Because everyone must have asked themselves why does the Great Seal look like this:

A golden door with 6 eyes and 4 spirals…

Well, the choice for it to be a door has an obvious source: one of the titles the Death card receives in esoteric traditions (in particular Thelema) is the “Lord of the Gate of Death”. This title also influenced the card rendition of P3 and P4.

The doors behind the skull? Yeah, they are the ones.

I don’t think I’ve to do an in-depth explanation of why doors—and thresholds in general—are a perfect representation for death and transformation/evolution, going from the known and familiar world into the great unknown, from the inner into the outer and vice versa.

“Man is a gateway, through which from the outer world of gods, daemons, and souls ye pass into the inner world; out of the greater into the smaller world. Small and transitory is man. Already is he behind you, and once again ye find yourselves in endless space, in the smaller or innermost infinity. At immeasurable distance standeth one single Star in the zenith.” - Seven Sermons to the Dead.

And as a curiosity that has no particular relation with the Seal’s design: Makoto created the Seal within Nyx’s body, yet The Answer showed him using it within the depths of the collective unconscious. Pretty interesting, and I can only link it with the Star mentioned in the previous quote, and thus with…

“An Indian picture of Shiva-bindu, the unextended point. It shows the divine power before the creation: the opposites are still united. The god rests in the point. Hence the snake signifies extension, the mother of Becoming, the creation of the world of forms. In India this point is also called Hiranyagarbha, 'golden germ' or 'golden egg.'” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

How I lied about its importance xD

Again, I’m not going to repeat the meaning and role of Nyx’s here; I already wrote a post about it. So to put it shortly, Nyx isn’t something that can't be defeated, but only accepted, integrated and transformed. That’s why the Great Seal is a door, because doors are meant to be opened, to communicate the outer with the inner. However, as life and humanity are unable to confront their darkness, the Gate is sealed for the time being.

Now, moving into the next element, the 6 eyes! And I have a perfect quote once more.

“Eyes are round and in common speech are likened to ‘cart-wheels.’ They also seem to be a typical symbol for what I have called the ‘multiple luminosities of the unconscious.’ By this I mean the seeming possibility that complexes possess a kind of consciousness, a luminosity of their own, which, I conjecture, expresses itself in the symbol of the soul-spark, multiple eyes (polyophthalmia), and the starry heaven.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis.

That quote was in regards to an analysis of Ezekiel’s visions about (biblically-accurate, duh) angels, the cherubim and ophanim. Since those angels are the bearers of God’s throne, they become extensions of his essence and symbols of the Self as well, of the unified and whole nature of man. The animal and monstrous characteristics of the angels are due to said wholeness, which fully embraces the autonomous and (sometimes) beastly aspects of the unconscious.

At any rate, the same logic should apply to the Great Seal, with the multiple eyes it has being representations or outright multiples souls/complexes that are working harmoniously as one, constantly watching their surroundings. In this regard, the number of eyes also makes sense: 6 is the quantity of directions (above, below, front, back, right, and left) in a 3D-space like the universe. While the number doesn’t really fit with the hindu Lokapala, it does with their role as the guardians of the cardinal directions and eternal watchers of the universe at large.

However, as far as I’m aware, there’s no particular relevance of the number 6 within a psychoanalytic context beyond two mentions. The first one is in the explanation of Seven Sermons, where the candelabra named “Ignis” and “Eros” has seven arms due to the spiritual principle of the number 3, or “3 + 3 + a special 1”, which in turn connects with the second mention:

“Luna is thus the sum and essence of the metals’ natures, which are all taken up in her shimmering whiteness. She is multi-natured, whereas Sol has an exceptional nature as the ‘seventh from the six spiritual metals.’ He is “in himself nothing other than pure fire.” - Mysterium Coniunctionis

This one makes more sense, considering Makoto’s visage is a white/gray stone hanging near the center of the Seal. It can also connect with the alchemical symbol of the hexagram, representing the union of opposites during the Great Work and, as per Tatsuya’s Scenario, the macrocosm of space—or the macrocosmic universe (“大宇宙”). And just to put the final nail on the coffin:

“This sun has seven rays. A commentator remarks that four of them point to the four quarters; one points upwards, another downwards, but the seventh and ''best" points inwards. It is at the same time the sun's disc, named Hiranyagarbha.” - Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious

The six eyes are the multiple “consciousnesses” that watch over the ever-expanding and ever-developing outer word. They observe and change, focusing only on the reality that surrounds them. While the seventh ray, the most important and exceptional “metal” of all, focuses inwards, into the equal and contrary of the macrocosm: the human soul. And that disposition isn’t only found in Makoto’s “soul”, but also in the other element on the Seal, the 4 spirals.

“We can hardly escape the feeling that the unconscious process moves spiral-wise round a centre, gradually getting closer, while the characteristics of the centre grow more and more distinct. Or perhaps we could put it the other way round and say that the centre—itself virtually unknowable—acts like a magnet on the disparate materials and processes of the unconscious and gradually captures them as in a crystal lattice." - Psychology and Alchemy

4 is the number par excellence of the process of individuation and the Self, the sacred quaternity that’s ever so prevalent in mythology and folklore. And it’s present along with the figure of the spirals that, as previously quoted, stands for the movement of the psyche around its core and whole nature, the Self. Thus, the spirals go on forever, endlessly and fruitlessly getting close to the underlying archetype of life and humanity.

The eyes and spirals, then, present complementary imagery. They both represent the simultaneous collectivity and individuality of the Self, which is “smaller than small and bigger than big”. Yet, the divinity present on them is only fulfilled when the effigy of humanity is included, the immobile and changeless center from which every movement emerges and around which they move.

However, life is bound by time and change by definition. It transforms itself to accommodate archetypal wholeness. So what happens when that wholeness is achieved and embodied?

“That would probably mean—translated into our language—that when the Self, after having grown within the earthly man, has completely reached its goal, i.e., the mandala of the unus mundus, then it has a deadly effect on the earthly body because it has reached a form of definite oneness with the all-pervading cosmic One-continuum, which seems to be hostile to separated existence.” - Psyche and Matter, by Marie-Louise Von Franz.

The Self, the union between the outer and the inner, is the final goal of life, its purpose. And once it’s achieved, life is ready to “depart”, but not completely. Again, when individuation is finished the individual becomes one with the collective and world at large, and just like them, it keeps going even after death, though not necessarily in a physical manner. Again, the only thing that dies is the physical body, because the realized essence becomes everlasting, like stone itself.

“Then spirit, soul, and body become ‘the One, in which the whole mystery lies hidden.’ This ‘One’ is also described as a stone statue which is born out of the fire. It unites spirit, soul, and body and contains all four elements.” - Psyche and Matter.

The real stones that everyone knows of aren’t eternal, obviously. I’m not speaking about that kind of thing, but of their symbolic nature as things that surpass the lifespans of all living beings, that resist the weathering of time and the elements. Thus, what element better than stone to represent the non-bodily eternity of the soul? Even Erebus, with a strength that Elizabeth said was enough “to tear down mountains to the heavens”, can’t even put a scratch on Makoto’s effigy.

Following with the stone motif, Christ’s association with stones can also be highlighted, the eternal cornerstone of the house of god, as well as the Philosopher’s Stone, which, despite having red as its main color as seen with Trismegistus, is said to be a manifestation of God like Christ is, and the microcosm itself—the perfected human spirit. But again, the main idea behind the statue is that it’s Makoto’s crystallized life force, made to last as long as humanity finds life unbearable.

The Great Seal, the manifestation of Makoto’s soul and his final resolution, will forever remain in the abyss of the collective unconscious as a symbol of the potential that lies dormant within everyone—the timeless bond that joins everyone as one. And as long as it remains as such, the Gate will be eternally closed, immovable as a mountain.

He may look alone, but that's from the truth.

[weirdowithaquill]

Traintober 2024: Day 6 - Harmony

Rheneas and the Night Mail:

Rheneas yawned, lulled by the cool evening air. The sun had only just set, leaving only a few bright stars behind as the world slowed for the night. He smiled lazily back at his train, watching with interest as the porters buzzed about, dropping mailbags into his vans. A few passengers boarded the single coach added to Rheneas’ mail run, hoping to make it home to their mountain villages for the night. Murdoch clanked by on the standard gauge lines with a long, slow goods train bound for Tidmouth; the trucks banged together, steel wheels hissing against steel rails. The steady beat of Murdoch’s cylinders slowly retreated into the rapidly approaching gloom, a few more stars making their entrance to the infinite cinema that was the night sky.

The guard waved his green lantern, and Rheneas whistled cheerfully, blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes as his driver opened his regulator. He dug his wheels into the rails and heaved the mail train out of the station. He puffed gently by the sheds, watching with interest as Sir Handel and Duncan argued softly about some trivial thing, keeping quiet so as not to wake Duke – the old engine always pulled the first train in the morning, and needed his sleep. Skarloey winked at Rheneas as he passed by, before interrupting the argument with a comment that left both Sir Handel and Duncan speechless. Peter Sam barely kept himself from cackling with laughter; Ivo Hugh innocently asked Rusty for clarification which Rusty tried to wheedle out of giving. Fred just dozed on.

Duke shot a wink at Rheneas too, grinning knowingly. Rheneas wondered what ol’ Granpuff would do this time to straighten out his youngsters, and hoped that Skarloey would fill him in later.

With the sheds behind them, Rheneas’ driver eased open the regulator and accelerated out into the open countryside. This part of the island was made up of endless moors and distant rolling hills, the great mountains rising on the horizon. Cows snored in their fields, undisturbed by the single train rushing by. Rheneas’ headlamps rocked gently, illuminating the world ahead. A few stray sheep grazed lazily behind their fences on the lineside, only to be spooked by the beat of Rheneas’ cylinders and hurry on back to their barns. A few lonely trees broke up the monotony, leaving long shadows that tattooed themselves onto the moors. Rheneas took a deep breath, and let all the stress of the day fade away as he exhaled. The stars twinkled high above, the ballast vanished under his buffers, and Rheneas was at peace.

Rheneas sped through the first station, continuing on towards the Skarloey lake. There was always few if any letters heading between towns on the line, and many heading out beyond Crovan’s Gate or in from distant towns and cities; why stop more than once at each station? A sack or two filled with letters bound for other stations was hooked by one of the post staff with a shunter’s pole while Rheneas slowed down, the postman then quietly sorting the letters in his van.

Rheneas smiled softly as he got closer and closer to the lake loop. This part of the line was beautiful; it was one of those few spots that always caught Rheneas with just how beautiful it was. The line itself split right as the lake came into view, the trees parting for a moment to give the engines a glimpse of the lake twinkling dreamily in the moonlight. It looked like something out of a fairytale, a hidden gem glistening in the night, reflecting the stars like a great, crystal clear mirror with not even the hint of a wave breaking the illusion. Rheneas always felt as though just seeing the lake was enough to balance something deep inside him – his driver called it ‘finding harmony in nature’, but Rheneas preferred to just think of it as tranquil.

“Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking,” murmured Rheneas to himself as the train finally began slowing for its first stop. “Did you say something?” asked Rheneas’ driver, poking his head out of the cab. Rheneas smirked to himself, his eyes gazing out over the lake, spotting a single sailboat bobbing by the pier, moored up for the night. “No, driver,” hummed Rheneas. “I’m just happy.”

Back to the Master Post

[oryu404]

What is your opinion on Sting Eucliffe's queer coding?

I’m going to try to keep this as short and sensible as I can, but–You know what? who am I kidding. I know me, and I’ll go ahead and predict this is going to be anything but short or sensible. Buckle up.

Queer coding. The implication that a character is queer through subtext. So the thing is that Fairy Tail is made by Japanese person in Japan, so there's probably a lot that gets lost in translation, or that I interpret very differently because I'm Western European. That being said, I'll share my thoughts on what's commonly pointed out as subtext, as well as the stuff that stands out to me.

First up: Sting's clothing. The fur, the crop top, the single earring (in his left ear; in case you were wondering, that's not the supposed Gay Ear from the 80s/90s)the whatever situation he’s got going on there with his pants that reminds me of cowboy chaps… Yeah, I see it. I definitely see it. I know not to judge a book by its cover, but Sting's outfits don't exactly scream heterosexuality to me, even in the world of Fairy Tail fashion.

Another thing that’s mentioned a lot is his feelings for Natsu. I say feelings because some call it admiration, others call it bromance, some like the idea that there’s romantic attraction involved. I personally think Sting views Natsu as a goal he has set for himself. He wants to be like him, measure up to him in strength and spirit. That's what I'm getting from the way their dynamic is presented. Sting has looked up to Natsu from a young age, when Natsu was 7 years his senior. This was already the case before the dragons slayers traveled through the eclipse gate, and it was the same way before the Tenrou crew disappeared. Because he was still so young when this admiration started, it feels more like a mentor/older brother thing than any queer hint.

What does stand out to me and I've mentioned this often is the harmony between Sting and Rogue. Everything about the way they were presented when we got to know them as new characters. Two mages wielding opposite elements in perfect sync. Their ability to do Unison Raids as if it's nothing. It's giving that “Historians would say they were best friends” vibe. They'll likely never become a canon couple, but they've been presented as a unit from the very start, their names are usually mentioned within the same breath.

I know you specifically asked about Sting, but I also know you love Rogue, so consider this a bonus track:

I think Rogue actually has more of that queer subtext than Sting does. His name alone, “going rogue” can be used to describe behaving against what's considered the norm. Now add in the fact that he was ashamed of his name and its meaning when he was young, and then chose to go by Ryos for a while. He later went back to Rogue, implying he reached a point of self acceptance.

Honoring his name, he was pretty much the outlier within the Sabertooth of the GmG. What made him stand out was that he was kinder, more caring and sympathetic–traits that were considered weaknesses in Jiemmas’s Sabertooth. You know what these traits are also typically associated with? Femininity, which also tends to be a gay criterion.

(Just to be clear, I don't agree with the notion that femininity equals to weakness or gayness, and I think gendering traits is frankly quite ridiculous. I'm just analyzing and seeing some parallels to the toxicity from Sabertooth and that of the real world. Sadly homophobia and misogyny go hand in hand.)

Then there was the “as long as he's here” line. Sorry Rogue, but entrusting your life and sanity to the hands of another man and his proximity to you sounds pretty gay to me.

Back to Sting.

Other, smaller things I'd consider possible queer subtext are:

- he sure likes to fight dudes and watch dudes fight each other.

- he’s never shown to have any interest in women, while I’m sure girls would throw themselves at him because he and Sabertooth were pretty popular.

I probably forgot stuff, despite this post already being longer than a Monday morning without coffee, but I'm calling it a day. I'll end with this official artwork. Are we still considering this subtext, or is this just text? A flashing, multicolor neon sign? Up to you to decide.

PS: past me was right. this was neither short nor sensible.

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere Bard x Reader - Say you're mine

Universe: Baldur's Gate 3 or DnD

Follow up to the introduction of Elphael and his nightly fantasies, this is my yandere OC.

Summary: your childhood, musical friend is madly in love with you, fantasizing about you in secret and planning to make you his. He has written a song about you and thinks your compliments mean more than you intend.

Warning: 18+ content, general nsfw, toxic, obsessive behavior, self deprication

The song in this fic is below, they're an awesome band:

-----

He felt nervous. Rereading his lyrics, he was sure nothing directly referenced you. But what if you suspected him? Maybe you noticed his lingering eyes. Or the way his breath quickened when your thigh briefly touched his. He was always so obvious, damn it! And yet, you still stayed with him. That had to mean something…?

You looked over the new notes Elphael had provided for you. Your eyes flew over the lyrics and a small smile grew upon your visage.

Oh, Elph is really into someone! you thought. This idea excited you. He never acted particularly concerned with love. The topic always made him fidget, wanting to move on from it fast. It was nice to see that he was open to it now. You had tried to introduce him to people, you thought he’d like previously, but he never really showed any interest. You had decided to let the idea rest, it was his decision after all. But now, wow! The raw emotion in the words, this had to be something!

Elphael watched you from afar, his face engulfed in heat. You would figure it out. You surely would.

You started tuning your guitar, practicing your parts quietly. The curtains muffled the patron’s loud conversation in the bar behind it.

The drow let out a jittery sigh. You didn’t seem that bothered by the words, which calmed him slightly. He wasn’t ready to tell you, although his entire being ached to do so for an age. He instructed the other band mates on tempo changes and note enhancement to keep himself occupied. He dared not get too close to you, in fear of losing it.

It was time. The announcement had sound.

The curtains were raised. Elphael bowed to the patrons and the whole room blurred. He felt you close, which simultaneously calmed and terrified him. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and the band erupted in song.

He could hear faint squealing from some of the loyal fans at the front of the stage. They usually forced flowers or stupid notes into his hands, asking him on dates or leaving locations on where to meet them after the show. He never really cared for their flattery. You were all he thought about. And you hadn’t asked to meet him under a dank light after the performance. If you had...

The drow stood at the front, with you strumming wildly to the song he secretly dedicated to you. He opened his mouth and took another deep breath, starting to sing the words he longed to scream into your face:

Say you're mine, don't leave me hanging by myself

The band echoed in the background with the words: you make me lose my mind

Can't think of anybody else because every time you come around

Oh darling, all I want is you

Say you're mine, we'll get it right, get it right

(You make me lose my mind)

Got me going crazy every time

I've never played with fire

But I guess it's something about you-ooh

The band played the interlude, the swelling of the music made his skin shiver.

Lately, I've been tryna find a way out of my shell

Reconcile my own emotions by myself

Stay alone and claim it's for my mental health

The band let out an excited note in unison. He heard you join in the harmony.

(Say you're mine)

He knew you were just singing with him. But hearing those words from you sent chills down his scarred spine.

Don't leave me hanging by myself (you make me lose my mind)

Can't think of anybody else because every time you come around

All I want is you-ooh

Say you're mine! Got me going crazy every time I've never played with fire, but I guess there's nothing I can do

The crowd errupted in applause once the song had ended. The fans at the front screeched when Elphael’s eyes flew over them, thinking he noticed them. In reality, he was trying to stop himself from looking back at you, gazing anywhere else, fearful of you having caught on. You swung your arm around his shoulder and bellowed cheers into his ear. You were happy for the grand execution of the song, but also that he showed such vulnerability.

You thought the growing indigo blush on his face was due to the excessive squealing from the patrons.

The applause faded as you and Elphael made your way to the bar, adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the performance. You ordered your usual drinks - a honeyed mead for yourself and dark ale for him. As you settled onto the worn wooden stools, you couldn't contain your excitement any longer.

"Elph, that song was amazing! I had no idea you could write like that," you gushed, eyes shining with pride for your friend. "It was so... raw and passionate. You must really be into someone."

Elphael's grip on his tankard tightened imperceptibly. He forced a casual shrug, taking a long swig of ale to buy himself time. "It's just a song," he mumbled, not meeting your gaze.

What if you could read him now?

But you weren't about to let it go so easily. "Come on, you can tell me! Who is it??? Is it someone I know?” You pushed your elbow into him, teasing. Elphael’s stomach dropped at your touch and couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. He was a bit ticklish; you knew this.

“It’s a secret…”, he uttered sheepishly. You sat so close to him, your leg was practically on his. He didn’t dare look anywhere, but straight ahead, since his face was already an unusual shade of blue.

You turned towards him and took another big gulp of your drink. Your eyes squinted as you thought long and hard about who it could be. Elphael talked to the kitchen staff a lot. Could it be one of them? Or was it someone outside the inn?

“Come on…”, you purred, leaning closer to him. Elphael’s eyes turned to you. If he moved his head, your lips would touch. Should he do it and pretend it was an accident?

He pondered this too long, you had already moved your face away to make room to swing your arm around him again.

“You can tell your old bud!”, you beamed at him.

Elphael chuckled, mostly to mask his annoyance at the word “bud”.

His mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament. He couldn't tell you the truth, but he didn't want to lie outright either. His gaze darted around the tavern, desperately seeking inspiration.

"Alright, alright," he conceded with a sigh, his gravelly voice barely audible over the din of the bar. "There is... someone."

Your eyes lit up with excitement, and Elphael felt a pang in his chest. They sparkled like starlight, partly why he was so enthralled by you. You were waiting for him to continue and the drow shook his head slightly to concentrate.

"I met them a while ago, during one of our…shows," he began, weaving truth and fiction together. "They have this... presence about them. It's hard to describe. When they walk into a room, it's like everything else fades away."

Elphael paused, taking another swig of ale to steady himself.

“When I hear their voice, it makes me go crazy. I could never tire of it. And they are…”, he looked at you briefly, studying your features in seconds, “absolutely stunning. In every way."

You were clapping your hands in excitement, delighted at this information. You had always wished Elphael would find someone, because you truly felt he deserved all the love in the world.

“That’s amazing, Elph!”

The drow felt another sweet twinge at the sound of his nickname. He adored it.

“Well, have you told them? Are you going to tell them? Are they here?!?!” You turned around and looked frantically from one end of the bar to the other, trying to spot the person Elphael could be describing.

You were so cute. But he wanted you to look at him.

He put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you to face the bar again.

“Stop staring at strangers…”, he laughed, but there was a distinct assertiveness in his voice. Your attention belonged to him.

You turned back to face Elphael, your eyes blinking at his sudden change in tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," you said softly. "I'm just so excited for you! Have you told them how you feel?"

Elphael's grip on his pint tightened, his knuckles turning a paler shade of lavender. He stared into the dark depths of his ale, as if seeking answers in its murky surface. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, rough with emotion.

"I... I can't. I don't deserve them. They're too good, too pure. And I'm..." he trailed off, his free hand clenching into a fist on the bar top.

You leaned in closer, your brow furrowed with worry. "You're what, Elph?"

He could smell the perfume you wore. It drove him insane. You always smelled so fucking good. He paused to breathe it in more.

You tilted your head slightly.

“...A piece of shit! Obviously! I’m disgusting. The things I’ve done, thought about…Gods I can’t even utter what I imagine sometimes. No one wants someon- something like me. An ugly, poor drow that whores himself out for money. Debased and damaged." He pointed sharply at the deep scar on his face.

"They could never want me. They are…”, he didn’t want to look at you, but your radiance pulled his grey eyes towards you, “just so damn perfect…”

Your eyes widened in shock at Elphael's harsh words. You grabbed his arm, forcing him to face you.

"Elph, what in the hells! When will you stop saying such terrible things about yourself?"

He stared at you and his forlorn eyes always made you feel an immense amount of sympathy. There was such a vast glimmer of loss within them, something was constantly eating at him.  

You turned on your stool to face him fully, your knees brushing against his thigh.

"Listen to me," you said firmly, your voice low and intense. "You are not disgusting. You are not ugly. You are one of the most beautiful people I know, inside and out."

Your fingers traced the constellations tattooed on his arm, making him tense up.

"Just look at you. These paintings tell a story of survival, beauty and strength. Showing how much you've overcome." You cupped his face gently, thumb brushing over the scar that marred his cheek. "And this? This just makes you look dashing and mysterious."

Elphael's breath caught in his throat at the intimacy of your touch, his skin tingling where your fingers drifted over his face. He screamed internally, resisting the urge to pull you into a deep, hungry caress. To throw you onto the bar top and hover over you, pressing himself between your legs: the thought made his body vibrate.

“You're one of the most handsome people I know, honestly! Do you not see how many people throw themselves at you?"

You pointed at the group of fans, huddling together, staring in anguish at the back of the drow’s head. He kept his gaze on you.

Your hands fell from his face and you gripped the drow’s hand that was clawing the side of the bar intensely.

"Your music touches people's souls," you insisted, your voice yanking him back to the present. "The way you play, it's like... it's like you're weaving magic with every note. And your voice? Gods, Elph, when you sing, it's like the whole world stops to listen."

You squeezed his hand, your eyes boring into his.

"And you're so kind and gentle. That person is so damn lucky to have you care for them. I love the way you comfort me… it always lifts me up!”

Your face was so close to his.

Elphael's heart thundered in his chest, your words echoing in his mind. The tavern around you seemed to fade away, leaving only you - your earnest eyes, your soft hands still clasping his, the intoxicating scent of mead on your breath. He wanted to believe your words, to let them sink into his very being and wash away years of self-loathing. But more than that, he wanted to crush his lips against yours, to taste the sweetness of your mouth and feel the warmth of your body pressed against his.

His gaze flickered to your lips. What if...what if your words meant more than friendship? The possibility sent a jolt of electricity through his body. Maybe, just maybe, you felt the pull between you too. Maybe you'd been waiting for him to make a move all this time.

He felt his body move without command.

Elphael leaned in slowly, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you must hear it. The din of the tavern faded to a dull roar as his focus narrowed to your lips, slightly parted and glistening from your drink. He could feel the warmth of your breath mingling with his own. This was it - the moment he had dreamed of for so long.

His eyes fluttered as he closed the final distance between you. He imagined how soft your lips would feel against his, how you would taste of honey and mead. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, fingers trembling slightly as it traveled upwards.

Just as he was about to make contact, a thunderous crash rang out from across the tavern. Your head whipped around instinctively towards the source of the noise, leaving Elphael's lips to barely brush against your cheek. The movement startled him and he twitched upright, swallowing hard at the shock of how close he had just been.

You were still looking over at the tumult, some people were fighting loudly. You turned to him briefly and smiled, completely unaware what almost just happened. You thought he had just been swaying weirdly from the alcohol. You leaned over the back of your stool and watched as the barmen pulled a group of ruffians away from the other roudy troop. Evidently, there had been some kind of disagreement while gambling.

You sighed and shook your head at the idiocy.

“See, Elph. This is the level of morons that exist in this world. You are much better than any of them combined. Don’t beat yourself up like that.” You patted his shoulder with gusto. The sudden friendly body language made Elphael’s world spin, when you were just so intimately intertwined.

So close.

But this meant something. You wanted him, too. Surely.

The night went on with you joining the other band members to drink a few rounds. Elphael stayed at the bar, replaying the scene in his head over and over again.

Maybe if he told you the truth,…or tried again?

What would your reaction be?

[captainsimagines]

meet me in the afterglow || Halsin BG3 || Part One

Summary: She aided everyone, himself included, and he hated how useless he felt. But if he were to simply open his eyes, he would see that she too was losing her mind.

Pairing(s): Halsin x Durge Drow Tav

Trope(s): Slow Burn; Fantasy; Established Canon Scenes; Male Love Interest POV

Based on the Song(s): Afterglow by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 30,000 +

If you would rather read on AO3, here is the link

This is a single one-shot, split into 2 parts.

Warnings: This story deals with heavy sexual situations, strong language, canon-typical violence, self-harm, fantasy elements, emotional backstories, past memories of necrophilia, the "Dark Urge", "resist dark urge" storylines, past rape/non-con, attempted sexual assault, and minor character death. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This work is strictly 18+ only. This is purely fanfiction.

Author's Note: Look at me, venturing into a new fandom. Well, I've been apart of it since December, but this is my first BG3 fanfic! Don't ask why it's so damn long and why I didn't split it into chapters. Easier this way in terms of posting, lmao. Anyway, it's summer vacation, I've got my teaching credential and Masters degree, and we're writing fanfics again!!!!!!! If you're not typically of this fandom... Hop on this train, you will not regret it. Buy the game. I swear. Love you.

xxMoni

---

The first time Halsin heard Tav scream was during the invasion of the Last Light Inn, when Mol was snatched by a devil and Rolan dodged a blade as he reached to grab her. Tav had climbed the roof in time to see her being flown in the direction of Moonrise, and that was that. It was an angry scream, one that surprised him and Jaheira alike. Since finding Mol’s eyepatch and defeating Ketheric, Tav hadn’t made a sound resembling it. 

Good, he figured. There was no sense in acting reckless when the facts aren’t known, and a level-headed leader would serve the greater good. He had wanted to slip and scream his frustration for years now, but who would that benefit? Halsin found that if he and his companions held it in for just a while longer, then soon they could find peace, harmony, balance—he had to believe that.

For three hundred and fifty years, Halsin explored the minds, souls, and the willing bodies of countless people. He has taken and been taken, suffered and accepted, led and also been led a fool. Besides the shadow curse, there was nothing that truly haunted him to the very marrow of his bones. He was everything an Archdruid was expected to be, and that included being an expert at hiding one’s fear to level the playing field. 

But recently, he’s been haunted by an odd feeling in his stomach. Thaniel and Oliver were healing together, Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, and he and his companions were readying their supplies to take the two-night trip into Baldur’s Gate. There shouldn’t be anything else plaguing his muscles, and especially not his digestion. Not even the bear could truly keep food settled for long. He suspected that as the land healed, he felt it. He felt each vine untangle, each pebble overturn, each sick creature drain and die. He was usually familiar with plant life dying and sprouting anew, but this was something else entirely. It was the undead dying, the sickness shriveling, the living succumbing and promising their return. It was a sickness extinguished, a sickness that apparently needed to pass through him and any other person connected to nature in the surrounding area. 

He excused himself after dinner, and waited for the oddity to start.

Just as he nearly slipped into trance, the flap of his tent smacked him in the face. 

“Now that we’ve healed this land, where are you going to fuck off to?”

He grumbled, opening his eyes to meet those of a seemingly unbothered Tav. 

Halsin had a bit of a crush. A crush on the violent, self-serving narcissist drow who was going to get them all killed before they faced the real threat awaiting them in Baldur’s Gate. Granted, Halsin formed a bit of a crush on most people he encountered, but Tav was different. The feelings had snuck up on him.

Tav often spoke of utilizing the gifts the Dream Visitor had offered them, but he had never seen her actually consume an extra tadpole. Tav loved to fill Astarion’s and Gale’s heads about godhood, about revenge, but Halsin was there when she almost murdered Araj for suggesting Astarion bite her, and even accidentally wandered in on her and Gale watching the stars he had conjured. Hell, she was the first to grant Karlach that long-awaited hug. And when Shadowheart had the chance to prove herself worthy to her dark Lady, something raw flashed in Tav’s eyes. Something that ultimately persuaded Shadowheart differently. 

The only thing Tav had done recently that really pissed Halsin off was recruiting Minthara at Moonrise. What kind of person forgave someone who threatened a whole Grove? A whole civilization? His people.

But that was the thing: Tav was a person willing to forgive. Well, maybe not forgive. Forget, more like.

And he had forgiven her for the murder of Alfira because, Oak Father preserve him, he believed her confusion. Her surprise. Her… urges. Hells, he came close to killing Kahga back at the Emerald Grove. 

“Who says I’m fucking off anywhere else?”

Tav snorted, his curt response certainly something he’d been working on for a while now. He had remained civil with her, polite even. But the way she spoke to him had him questioning his abilities. He had cultivated mountains of patience over his long years, but she was just too good at breaking off pieces. No way she would be able to flatten him, but he worried himself over the prospect. 

“You’re seriously going to follow us to Baldur’s Gate?”

“I am no stranger to the city.”

Tav plopped down beside his bedroll and fiddled with the strap around his arm. He fought hard to keep so much as a twitch from his face. “It’s a shitty place. You’ll probably find one tree. Maybe two.”

“Do you want me to leave your side?”

Her expression held steady. “No. Just wondering what your plans were.”

Despite her attitude, Halsin had no doubts about whether or not Tav wanted him to remain. He never dropped hints about him leaving after the shadow-cursed lands were no more, and he completely expected to make the trip with everyone else. They helped him here, why wouldn’t he help them to the end? 

“Then you’ll have me. I will remain at your side until you have no use for me, or until my body can give no more. You need not worry about sudden disappearances or ill remarks from my end.”

She rolled his words around in her mind, the points of her ears wiggling slightly. “At least now I can see you in city clothes.”

He sat up slightly, his smirk wide. “Have you been fantasizing about what I would look like in such clothing?”

“Armor is a drag. I’ve been fantasizing what everyone would look like in silks and cotton.”

He hummed, settling back down and placing his hands behind his head. She definitely was a weird one. He couldn’t say for certain if she fancied him or not. She had inquired about past lovers, but hadn't pressed further when he mentioned bedding alone. She had joked about feeling lonely at nights and went so far as to wink at him, but she gave those same winks at Wyll. She had even fought to venture into the Shadowfell with him, but that same ferocity rose when she encountered Rolan fighting shadows alone. She was difficult to read, but he had only himself to blame. So occupied by the shadow curse, he had failed to get to know her. Or any of his companions, really. 

“I think I liked dresses before all of this,” she shared, surprising him. 

“What kind?”

She thought about it for a second, honesty in her lilac features. “The revealing kind. Where the lining dipped to my navel and my thighs were out.”

He was no stranger to such clothing. He had indulged in similar attire in his youth. “I imagine you would look beautiful in them.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But I think I also really liked elven armor.”

Halsin’s laugh came out as more of a grumble. “Is your drow armor unsuitable?”

“It doesn’t show off my curves.”

He couldn’t contain his smile. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Her tent was pitched near Astarion’s, so he doubted she was looking to bunk with him tonight. This was her routine every night—check in with everyone, speak for a few minutes, maybe share a bottle of wine, and return to her own bedroll. Except this is the first time since rescuing Thaniel from the Shadowfell that she visited him.  

It was something he had thought about during their long travels. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Did she consider him a burden, only adding to their troubles without the promise of a cure for the damned tadpole? Volo had tried to do what he advised against, and Tav sported a pale blue eye because of it. 

But it looked good on her. Anything blue looked good on her. 

“You’re allowed to hate me, you know.”

He blinked an eye open, studying her vulnerable expression. Besides making questionable decisions and being rude to strangers they encountered, it was not enough to make him despise her. 

“I do not hate so easily.”

“You hate goblins.”

“They threatened my people. People in need.”

She hummed, “Taking in Minthara was like a slap to the face then.”

“There are other things to consider. Such as, you did not risk the grove when you first met her.”

“I killed a tiefling out of pure blindness. In my own camp.”

“And do you regret it?”

“I—I think I do.” She shook her head, as if arguing with her thoughts. “I also really wanted to kill Isobel.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

He sat up and sighed. Tav rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with his closeness. He did his best to slide to the edge of his tent, but his frame wouldn’t allow much distance. “Are you here… to fight with me?”

Tav grumbled under a breath, avoiding his eyes. “Not exactly.”

He nodded, though confusion still weighed him down. “Then tell me how to best speak on this matter.”

“I don’t understand you,” she admitted, scooting to leave his tent. 

They had something in common, then. 

“When you’ve been alive for as long as I have, you come to understand those around you just a little bit more. Speak or don’t speak, I will not draw my blade. I know it is what you crave. You have fought everyone in this camp with your teeth, almost killed Gale when he confided in you about the orb, almost staked Astarion before you allowed him to feed from you. And you held a knife to my face when you rescued me from the goblin camp. If you wanted to kill one of us, you would have done it by now. If you wanted to kill me, you would have tried.”

Tav laughed and crossed her arms. Halsin averted his eyes from her muscles. “Tried,” she drawled.

He smiled again. “You would not succeed.”

“I take that as a challenge.”

“Take it however you’d like,” he said, sighing as he rested his head back onto his bedroll. “Now, will I receive some peace and quiet tonight?”

Tav squinted her eyes, a glint of mischief peeking through her long lashes. “Annoying oaf of a druid.”

“Annoying brat of a drow.”

That made her grin, teeth and all. Then, quieter, honestly, “Maybe all that torture I endured made me forget. Maybe it made me the way I am. Better today, but…”

Gods, he almost forgot. The odd necromancer they had encountered beneath Moonrise. What she said she had done to Tav, over and over, he could not imagine. First to be kidnapped, reduced to a wailing mess, cataloged like meaningless scraps, and pinned back together only to be ripped open again? And still, Tav did not remember. Thank the Gods she didn’t, and that the necromancer’s slices were simply numb visions. But to smell your own blood on a mind flayer pod, to have a vague recollection of betrayal, to walk right back into your prison…

He kept his voice soft, and tried to make his eyes speak better words than what he could currently form. “Do you mean violent?”

Any ounce of wisdom he carried seemed to die in front of her. She made his tongue twist, his mind rattle.

“Perverted.”

He said, forcefully, “You’re not perverted.”

“That’s why I speak with you, Halsin.” Tav opened the tent flap and stepped through. Her smile dropped, and he was no longer granted the privilege of a real one. “You say all the wrong things.”

---

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

“You’ll find I’m exceptionally greedy,” Tav responded, clinking her beer with his wine. Rolan looked to the floor, fumbling as he tried desperately to flirt back. Halsin almost wanted to help the poor wizard, but that would probably do more harm than good.

“Darling, you’ve made the tiefling blush! How sweet!” Astarion observed, flicking his polished nails across his lips.

Tav shrugged a shoulder, then downed her beer in one go. “Don’t sweat it, Rolan! I have that effect on everyone!”

“Oh,” he lamented, his lips turning downward. Almost as suddenly, he corrected himself. Shoulders straightened, Rolan cleared his throat. “I thank you instead for clearing the road to Baldur’s Gate. When you can, make a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. I’ll give you a lovely discount on some scrolls.”

“Gale would certainly—”

“Gale would be appreciative indeed!” their resident wizard cheered, reaching to shake Rolan’s hand. “I plan on doing a little perusing of my own, of course. But any promise of a discount on some scrolls is certainly something I wouldn’t pass up! I say, Rolan! You and I need to speak one-on-one soon.”

Rolan stuttered over a breath. “That—Well, I’ll probably be preoccupied with my apprenticeship. But yes, that would be quite informative.”

“Gale, stop flirting with my favorite wizard. I wanted him in my bed, not yours,” Tav joked, winking at the blushing tiefling. Cal and Lia, listening at the other end of the bar, sputtered through their drinks.

Gale gasped, “Your favorite wizard? My word, how ugly of you, Tav! I thought we had something special.”

“Your—Your bed?” Rolan choked out, his smile growing. Halsin looked to Tav to tell her to cut it out, but what he saw was… authentic. Tav wasn’t joking, nor was she toying with the tiefling. She genuinely wanted to spend a night with him. Their banter had stretched from the grove to these cursed lands and Tav was nothing if not direct with her intentions. 

He and Tav shared banter… So it led Halsin back to his looming questions with no answers. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Was he a burden?

“Offers on the table, Rolan. I don’t ask twice,” she teased, ignoring Astarion’s gag and Gale’s responding chuckle.

“That sounds—” Rolan started, but his attention was pulled by a few of the tiefling children running up behind him. In their flurry of questions, he met Tav’s eye. “Apologies.”

Tav waved a hand and tried her best to smile at the children, who were now pulling at Rolan’s robes. Cal and Lia came to his aid, even going so far as to grab the children around their waists and run in the opposite direction. 

Rolan cleared his throat. “As much as it irks me to admit… I hope our paths cross again in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav let her disappointment show for half a second before turning in the direction of the exit. Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel had claimed Isobel’s old room, while Wyll, Astarion, and Gale claimed the room where Art had been resting. Halsin had already mentioned he wasn’t going to rest tonight so he could help the tieflings pack, but he wondered where Tav was going to sleep. The only other room still standing was currently occupied by Rolan and his siblings, while the tiefling children were bunking with Dammon in the barn.  

Halsin quickly caught up with her, clearing his throat to gain her attention. “You were very forward with the tiefling.”

Tav shrugged, stripping her gloves from her sweaty hands. “We could die tomorrow. Might as well let my true desires show.”

“And that’s what desires you?”

She smirked. “Got something against tieflings? Or is it wizards, Halsin?”

“Not at all what I meant.” 

He followed her quietly until she led them to the lake’s edge, just a few feet away from Dannis and Bex. Tav chucked her shoes off and tore the corset from around her waist. It was a black and red corset she had looted from Minthara’s office back at the goblin camp, but her fellow drow seemed to not recognize it. Since rescuing her, Tav had made it her mission to try and get Minthara to notice. As if to say, I rescued you but I also bested you once before. Though he hardly spoke to the sharp-tongued drow, he understood her avoidance. Minthara had gained alliances in an unlikely place and vowed to fight by their side, an oath as strong as all others, and did not waste her breath on a petty argument. Especially an argument with her narcissistic Underdark kin.

“I meant to say, that I admire that in a person. I have been alive a long time and you so little, and yet you reach for what you want with ropes of experience.”

It was true. Halsin was no stranger to honey on the tongue or the caress of another. Sometimes he forgot that others have not racked up a roster like he had. Though, he wasn’t exactly keeping track. Every lover he had chosen had been sacred, willing, enthusiastic. It was nice to see others indulging, even if he did not feel the call right now. 

The bear hadn’t felt the call for a while now. Even back in the Emerald Grove, his only companion had been his hand. He didn’t know what changed. 

Tav sat down and leaned back on her hands, watching Dannis and Bex as they swayed in each other’s arms. When they had rescued Dannis from Moonrise a few nights ago, Halsin had been witness to their emotional reunion at this very lakeside. With as many people on his mental list of lovers, it would make sense that he had been in love before. But watching them reunite and cry in each other’s arms… Halsin realized he had never felt love in the way one was supposed to. Lust, admiration, respect—those feelings he was familiar with. Feelings that were reciprocated and cherished. This was different, foreign. 

Was he broken? Had the bear truly taken over that aspect of his life so much? Druids became more like their wildshape the more experienced and older they grew, and it wasn’t unheard of that some animal attributes bled into their daily lives. Or their physique. Nature had been his one calling as Archdruid, and though the realization that he had sorely missed out on the connection Dannis and Bex shared plagued his heart, he didn’t regret devoting his life to the Grove.

“I woke up on that nautiloid with absolutely no idea of who I was. I knew my name, and that was it. Along with a burning rage and desire for blood, I strangely felt free. In a way. This is me letting loose. Being the person I feel like I could have been,” Tav explained, her brow furrowing. Dannis and Bex shared a final kiss before retreating into the inn, giving both her and Halsin grateful nods. Tav sighed, “My memories, or the scraps of them at least, are tainted in red. I want new colors, Halsin.”

He sat down beside her, drawing his knees up so he could lay his arms across them. “I always imagined the color of lust as a light purple. When bodies connect in the most intimate of meanings, it is that streak of purple only the sky can mimic. A purple that only occurs in nature.”

“Poetic.”

“I’ll leave the poetry to Wyll.”

She watched the lake sway, now absent of dark creatures at its shore. He wondered if shadow-cursed creatures actually had also thrived underwater, but no one had reported such horrors. He wasn’t ignorant to think that the fish hadn’t shriveled, that the water wasn’t undrinkable, that the echoes of the Underworld hadn’t been waiting for bare feet.  

“I gave you all colors, you know.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Karlach is pink. As much as my blood yearns for the blood of others, I do not like the color red. Karlach is pink because she makes the darkest of places lighter. She makes my days lighter.”

He wouldn’t have assigned her that color, but Tav’s reasoning made sense. Karlach had a lot of blood on her hands, but blood would fade the more one scrubbed. 

“Gale is purple, of course. That damn robe he got abducted in is scorched into my brain,” Tav laughed. “Astarion is a dark blue. When I look at him, oddly enough, I have this intense feeling that his eyes were blue before he was turned. Blue like the sky he’s been cherishing these last few months.”

Halsin would be lying if he said Gale in purple didn’t stir something within him. After acquiring new robes or armor, Halsin always volunteered to dye it. Purple was instinct for Gale, but he had always found himself dying Astarion’s clothing red. Perhaps now he would reconsider.

“Lae’zel is orange,” Halsin added, grinning when Tav clapped her hands and cheered.

“Exactly! She doesn’t touch any other fruit besides those!”

He continued, ignoring the odd jump of his stomach. “Shadowheart is the color white. Her new hairstyle has nothing to do with it. You know, I was nervous when I saw her leaving camp with a dagger tucked away. Glad to know my nerves were unfounded.”

“Black washed her out,” Tav agreed. Her smile faltered as she picked around the dirt absentmindedly. “Black, however, is Minthara’s color. She radiates such… torment. Mentally, that is. As much as she tries to mask it, I can see right through her. And I think she sees right through me. We’re both terrified, and too angry to admit it.”

Terrified. In all the time he had been traveling with his companions, Halsin didn’t stop to think about what would happen if they lost. Tav had created this image of pure leadership, where everything that needed to be solved had a simple solution. Even Lae’zel portrayed as much. He did have moments where Tav’s questionable actions led him to believe someone would die, but not that anyone would kill them. 

“You just admitted it to me.”

Tav grumbled, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. “The Oak Father will have your balls if you utter it to anyone else.”

“Didn’t know he answered to you.” He couldn’t help the blood flushing his cheeks.

“The gods love to hear me whine.” Tav's sarcasm coated her words and eye roll alike. Then quieter, angrier, she said, “I remember screaming for some.”

His chest caved in slightly, a burst of sympathy melting along his ribs. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when he was tied to that bedpost in the Underdark. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the shadow curse prevailed and his fellow Druids didn’t run fast enough. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the last of his family passed and he lowered them into the ground. But ever since, the Gods have answered his prayers. His Drow patrons couldn’t keep their disputes civil and he escaped after three, confusing years. He had sprinted fast enough to avoid the dark tendrils lapping at his paws and was fortunate enough to lead Rethewin’s survivors to safety. He was able to say a final goodbye to his mother. Even now they listened when he was rescued from that horrible goblin camp.

He didn’t quite catch if the Gods had answered any of Tav’s prayers yet since she herself doesn’t remember anything that happened prior, but he had it on good authority that every battle they’ve survived since had been blessed.

“And Wyll?” he asked, his tone softer as he reverted the topic of discussion back to color assignment.

“Green,” she answered quickly. “He reminds me of a park I used to walk around. A distant memory, a broken one. But I see him sitting in that green field, surrounded by wine and grapes and a lanceboard.”

He hadn’t spoken to Wyll all that much yet. Karlach and Gale were the two he found himself conversing with most often. Wyll always spoke of Baldur’s Gate, and though Halsin enjoyed hearing about their companions’ lives beforehand, he found that he did not have kind feelings for Wyll’s father. When he tried to maneuver the conversation away, Wyll always brought it back. 

And it made sense. Just as Halsin was preoccupied with the shadow curse and his role in its creation, so was Wyll and how he would prove to his father that his transformation was for the good of his citizens. Perhaps when his head was clear and his father found acceptance, Halsin would be able to speak to Wyll freely. To speak without thinking about how the city would be better off in Wyll’s hands instead.

Halsin wanted to punch Duke Ravengard in the fucking face. 

“And me?” he asked.

“Guess.”

“I assumed green, to be honest.”

Tav shook her head. She turned to him fully, the lilac of her face bright beneath the moon. For the first time since they had met, she showed him vulnerability. He knew it was killing her to do so. “You’re gold.”

Something foreign fluttered in his chest. “Gold?”

“You shimmer when you wildshape. But also, when you’re standing in the sun, your gray hair shines gold instead. You’re so damn joyful all the time and it reminds me of the sun. You’re sunlight incarnate, Halsin.”

He had been called wise, inspirational, large, and handsome. He had been called ruthless, uncontrollable, wild, and arousing. Never in his three hundred and fifty years had he been compared to sunlight, or directly called it. 

But he was sunlight to her.

She shook her head, a light chuckle beneath her breath. Then she stood and walked back in the direction of Last Light. Slowly, waiting.

“What color am I?”

She shifted her stance. Afraid of her own question, the answer it might bring. The truth of it. Halsin did not see her as a red tone. Far from it. Even her sleek red-orange hair wasn’t enough to classify her. Though red yearned for her, she did not want to claim it. There was a fire behind that fight, a fire that licked higher the more she resisted its call. Even in the midst of battle, drenched in blood, she did not harvest its bounty. Her and Gale were always the quickest to the stream, washing away the brutality. Gale out of pure disgust. Tav out of need. 

“You and I are at odds most of the time. We are two colors that clash, yet find a way to coexist in one setting. You are silver, Tav. The same color as your sword, of the lash of your words, of that fire in your eyes.”

“A silver menace, am I?”

He shrugged, too in his own head to truly argue it. “Silver is also the color of the ripples in water.”

“Ripples are the consequence of a disturbance.”

“They are proof of influence.”

She crossed her arms for warmth. Backing away, she pointed one finger at the sky, her grin nearly obscured by shadow. “And the color of the moon.”

---

The second time Halsin heard Tav scream was in camp a few nights later. A breathless one, but no less bone-rattling. The sound reverberated into his bone marrow, sucking out half and poisoning the rest. His first thought was Mol, that he had to save her this time, that a repeat of the grove was unacceptable and he finally had a chance to make things right. This was a job for the Archdruid. No tiefling would hurt under his watch. 

His second thought was that Tav was dying, and he needed to get up so his silver menace had a fighting chance. 

“Get away from him!”

Halsin woke from his meditation and caught a glimpse of a short, gray creature scurrying into the bushes. The further it retreated, the quicker its laughter came. A sound that scraped against his spine-bones, horribly akin to a goblin’s. 

He looked over his shoulder and watched as Tav held her shaking hands in front of herself. She breathed slowly, shutting her eyes as whatever troubled her began nudging at her once confident composure. 

“Tav?” he said lightly, slowly standing to his full height. In the campfire light, she was beauty incarnate. All her fine features threatened to stop his heart, his senses. And when those senses catapulted themselves into his brain, he saw pure fright on her lovely, scarred face.  

She trembled as she stepped closer to him, gagging on her next words. “Restrain me.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Halsin,” she croaked. She glanced around camp, fidgeting even more as Shadowheart and Astarion poked their heads out from their tents. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to give into these urges if you don’t restrain me. I can’t control it—I’m trying—but I’m going to slaughter you in your sleep and all of your thoughts about me will be true—”

“Calm, Tav. I am awake, I am unharmed.” He took a step closer. “These urges… They are the ones you mentioned when you asked if they were possible effects of the tadpole?”

“Halsin,” she whispered, terror laced within those two syllables. “You piss me off, but I don’t want to kill you.”

That made him chuckle. “I will not let you.”

As quickly as he finished that sentence he saw the glimmer of a blade behind her back. She lurched forward, aiming for his heart. He reacted too late, but not late enough to get stabbed. An arrow whipped between them and lodged in Tav’s shoulder, sending her to the cold ground. Halsin yelled, panic gripping his stomach from the sight of her blood. 

“Wyll, give me the rope,” Astarion ordered, his skin somehow paler. He threw his bow to the side and immediately began tying Tav’s feet together. Wyll held her down by the shoulders, cursing when she managed to twist her neck far enough to bite him.

“What’s happening?” Karlach demanded, running up to the group. Nervous, caring hands burned with panic instead of the usual fury.

Tav thrashed, screaming wildly as Wyll bound her hands. He did his best to lean down and whisper in her ear, his horn smacking her cheek. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this isn’t right, I’m sorry. 

“Dear Gods,” Jaheira breathed. “Not another one.”

Halsin had witnessed Jaheira mid-battle and post-battle. He understood that the older druid put on a face, the same face he perfected when he was at the grove. To be stoic in the face of chaos, of evil, was a necessary talent. But here, Halsin saw the mask fracture as she examined Tav’s mannerisms, her moans, her darkening eyes.

“What does that mean? Speak plainly, Jaheira,” he told her. The jump in his voice surprised him.

She huffed, sliding to Tav’s left side so she could check her pulse. At the same time, Shadowheart casted a calming spell. “I have only met one other who resisted the urges. The call for murder, of blood on the tongue, of death in every orifice of the body.”

Minthara blinked, her brow scrunching. “It cannot be!”

The pure terror lacing Minthara’s exclamation—ice pricked his veins.

“A Bhaalspawn,” Jaheira confirmed. “A tadpole-infected Bhaalspawn, at that.”

“A Bhaalspawn?” Karlach choked, though Halsin swore it was on a laugh. “In our camp? If my parents could see me now! Oh, this would make for the best How was your day? story around the dinner table!”

Gale rubbed at his chest, an awkward sound coming from him before he spoke. “That means Orin knows her from before the tadpole.”

“It means Orin tortured her and planted the tadpole herself, I am sure. When she betrayed me, she spoke of another that I now know was Tav. What she did, how her screams sounded—I was not fully listening as she was making an example out of me as well,” Minthara shared, her tone deadly. It was the most Halsin had ever heard her say in one sitting.

“Why wouldn’t the Emperor say anything?” Wyll cursed, quickly snatching his hand back as Tav tried to bite him again.

“It wasn’t its secret to tell,” Lae’zel said, though there was more hatred in her answer than understanding.

Tav shot forward, headbutting Jaheira and flipping onto her stomach. Just as her teeth nearly plunged into Astarion’s forearm, the vampire smacked an annoyed hand to her forehead. “Ah, ah, ah. We ask before we bite.”

“The spell wanes. Calming her emotions is not possible,” Shadowheart said, gritting her teeth. Jaheira, paying absolutely no mind to the bruise on her forehead, took over for the cleric.

“Hit her over the head with this pan,” Karlach offered, offense painting her face after Gale smacked it from her hands. She went to retrieve it, this time holding it over her head so Gale couldn’t reach it.

“Jaheira and I will stay with her,” Shadowheart spoke, her worry etched deep in the frown lines by her lips. “We will need—”

“My sword is yours,” Lae’zel volunteered, pulling her blade out to lie across her lap. She sat with her back straight, eyes focused. A soldier on guard, disguising her concern for a friend.

Halsin and Wyll carefully flipped Tav onto her back. “Are we absolutely positive this is what afflicts her? Maybe she inhaled some spores from your pack—” he tried to reason with the older druid. 

“Urgh—To taste a druid’s blood would be a carnal delight—to dig his heart out from the depths of his ribs and feast upon the muscle. To mutilate his corpse over and over and over—”

Jaheira’s chuckle was void of humor. “Ignore the wisdom of an old crone, why don’t you?”

“Halsin, are you sure you want to listen to this?” Shadowheart asked.

Yes!—he wanted to scream—he was a healer, it was his duty, he would do it for anyone else.

But something else ate away at him as he watched Tav squirm and suffer, biting at her own cheeks when the absence of his flesh famished her. This felt personal somehow, as if everyone else was merely an obstacle on her way to him. He was her target. 

Yet, he didn’t feel threatened. If he was her target, then so be it. She was the one person his body wouldn’t let him abandon because it knew she wouldn’t abandon him.

Tav choked on her saliva as she yelled, “Your bones would be put to good use inside my—”

“I can handle it,” he announced, the nerves in his shoulders loosening. Karlach and Wyll reluctantly returned to their tents as Halsin settled down beside Jaheira. 

“Come back to us, little one,” he said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I know you are still in there.” 

Tav whimpered, registering his attempt at calming her. Helping her.

“Feel the grass beneath your cheek. The soil wetting your skin. Let the Oak Father tend to your mind. Let nature pull you from this dread. It can take it. You can will it.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

Astarion diverted his gaze, swallowing a gulp of air his body didn’t need. He blinked rapidly before stalking into the trees, Gale trailing close behind.

Tav was his best friend. Devastatingly enough, the one friend here who had not yet claimed their own autonomy. Someone who was being controlled, forced to move and act at the will of another. His spawn blood stole his choice and allowed others to steal bits of his soul. Tav’s tainted blood stole her choice as well, but forced her to steal the souls of others. 

To be at the will of something sinister, to be forced to say and do awful things because something compelled them to… Halsin’s heart clenched at the comparison. But it leaped as it finally understood why Tav and Astarion were attached at the hip. How they could possibly heal each other. 

According to Tav, Halsin said all the wrong things. Maybe Astarion was her one source of truth.

“Do not apologize to me. There is no need.”

“I am sick.”

“You are fighting,” Jaheira clarified.

Tav sobbed, whipping her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart waved a hand, her smile small. “I didn’t feel like sleeping, anyway.”

The hours passed slowly, painfully, until the worst of it cleared. Lae’zel woke Karlach and Wyll to inform them, and Jaheira retreated to the dimly lit fire to regain some strength. Shadowheart sat back and waited, another spell prepared. But Tav sat up with her help, then calmly sent her away. 

It was just the two of them, quiet enough that Halsin could hear the beat of her heart.

She breathed in deeply, her burnt-orange hair falling across her face. She looked so… small. Defeated. Nothing like the fighter she had presented herself to be these past few weeks. Sweat stained her night clothes, yet she dug her toes into the dirt to find a sliver of warmth. 

“They say silver is supposed to keep evil spirits away,” Tav laughed brokenly.

He nodded. “That they do. That it does.”

“And yet, I can still see myself in the mirror.”

Halsin didn’t think she was trying to insult Astarion in the same sentence, but he understood what she was trying to say. A vampire equaled an evil spirit, and thus Astarion couldn’t see himself in mirrors. What plagued Tav was evil no doubt, and yet she was forced to see herself.

“Silver also promotes healing.”

She shook her head. “That’s your job.”

After a long pause, she whispered, “No one can heal from this. He’s in my blood. I am his.”

They didn’t say anything else. 

Tav watched the weakening flames until the sun came up, and Halsin watched her.

---

“Um, excuse me? I can’t find my mum.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Honest to the Gods, Tav could have simply smacked the poor girl and the physical lashing would have been less traumatizing. The young girl visibly recoiled, taking a small step back and almost tripping over her orange cat. Halsin reached out, but she moved further away.

Minthara snickered at Tav’s comment, though she didn’t aid in the verbal beating of the child herself.

“She had these spots all over her face and chest. She went out for some herbs and was supposed to come back already. Said she’d be four days at most. That was a tenday ago, though,” the girl mumbled, Yenna, and played with the loose thread of her sleeve.

“Sounds like your mom’s dead.”

“Tav!” Halsin scolded, something alarmingly bold rising within him. Tav made no indication she was affected by his outburst. Neither did Minthara.

“May I remind you you’re speaking to a child. In the middle of a refugee camp,” Gale said, brushing his hand through the warm air. His tone was lighter than his own, thankfully. The only other time Halsin had seen Rivington so crowded was days after the shadow curse rippled through the land and pushed the first round of refugees in.

“Which makes my observation that much more factual,” Tav stated, boredom polluting her fine face.

Astarion choked out a laugh, resting a delicate hand over his heart. “Oh, darling. I’m sure we can find you another squirrel to kick that doesn’t have opposable thumbs.” 

Tav rolled her eyes. Astarion continued, “You were so quick to shelter poor Arabella. What’s different now?”

“I would die for Arabella. I don’t give a shit about her.”

Yenna, surprisngly, chuckled. Tav snapped her gaze to the girl, raising an eyebrow. 

Halsin cut off their line of sight, stepping in front of Tav. He asked, his tone ghostly like a warning, “Do you give a shit about children?” 

Again, Tav gave nothing away as to whether his threatening aura unnerved her. Instead, she side-stepped him and reengaged the girl. “What uses do you provide?”

“Gods, you’re miraculous,” Astarion swooned.

Yenna straightened, lifting her freckled chin. “I can cook.”

“Gale cooks for us.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Ah!” Gale bent a knee, the crack obvious. “That would be I! Do you know your way around spices?”

Yenna grinned, sticking her chest out as she placed her small fists on her hips. “Mum taught me! Said I could rival the best chefs in Baldur’s Gate someday!”

“It’s settled then! I have a new apprentice.”

Minthara clicked her tongue. “One more mouth to feed.”

Gale gave Yenna a miniature version of their map and showed her where to find their camp. The girl scurried away, calling after her cat. Minthara and Astarion quickly left as well in search of some fashionable day clothes, leaving Halsin to deal with Tav’s attitude. 

The drow watched as Gale engaged in yet another bright conversation with a local, her scowl deepening. Confusion settling in.

“What color does the girl give off?” he asked her, a futile attempt to quiet both her annoyance and his anger. She stayed watching Gale and did not move when he settled right beside her, their shoulders brushing.

“Don’t know yet,” she said. 

He shook his head. Though it didn’t measure close, Halsin was slowly approaching the level of outrage he had felt when confronting Kagha. “You were too harsh.”

Tav hummed, then turned to strut down the hill to buy some fish. Completely insensitive and horribly remiss. “Best show her what to expect from me early on, no?”

She handed the fisherman some coin and waited as he bundled the fish. His stomach grumbled, but it wasn’t enough of an attempt at distracting from the matter at hand. 

“Lay aside your pride for a moment. Show kindness to children, would you?”

“That’s your job. Not mine. I have bigger matters to attend to.”

Whatever happened to the gut-wrenching apology she spewed a few nights before? What happened to the kind soul he saw save the tieflings twice over without question, the soul who defended Astarion every chance possible, the soul that almost regurgitated her breakfast while building the courage to tell Arabella her parents had died? 

“I didn’t think you so ugly.”

He said it before his mind weighed the consequences.

“Oh? Well, I know that’s not true. I have plenty of suitors. I have fucked plenty of people. No complaints.”

A mask just as fitted as Astarion’s, it seemed.

He followed close behind, sneaking a refugee some coin as she traveled the road back to their camp. He called out, but she did not turn to him. 

“Your beauty is not what I am commenting on. You are turning ugly inside, and I do not blame your blood for it. No sane soul deprives a child of food and shelter, even if it’s for one night.”

She shrugged, her hair blowing in the wind.“I am not sane. Don’t you get it, Halsin?” 

He nearly ran into her when she stopped and turned, crossing her arms in defiance. “I am weak, and I will give in to these urges soon enough.”

He snarled. “I didn’t take you as fragile and pathetic.”

Her eyes flickered with something… pained. As if he stung her. Then as quickly as it appeared, it disintegrated into the poisoned pot she stored most of her emotions in.

“Maybe I should have killed you the other night.”

“Strike me with your words all you want. I can take it.”

But it actually did strike him deep for some reason. So badly it nearly made him wince. She laughed, the sound piercing through the air and slicing him in two. 

He didn’t talk to her the whole walk back.

---

“Do you hate me?”

Halsin perked up at Yenna’s small voice. He nearly fell forward with the weight of his head as he forgot he was lounging in wild shape by the campfire. He located Tav and Yenna by the barn, Scratch and the unnamed owlbear running circles around them. 

“Hate is a strong word,” Tav mumbled, the cleaning of her boots uninterrupted as Yenna sat down next to her on the log. She kept a respectable distance, twiddling her thumbs. 

“I seeked someone kind-looking,” Yenna explained.

“I am quite beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that.” To that, Tav did halt her work. She turned to meet Yenna’s eye, the poor girl trembling as she tried to redeem herself. “Wait! I only meant that you looked kind, too.”

Tav straightened, her brow scrunching. “I’ve never been told that.”

“Don’t your friends tell you?”

“They’re not my friends.”

A blatant lie, Halsin thought.

Yenna frowned. “Oh. That’s sad.”

Clearly exasperated, Tav set down her boots. “What do you want, Yenna?”

The girl’s blue eyes widened, a small smile sneaking onto her face. “You know my name.”

“No, shit. I have functioning ears.”

“Well, if you don’t hate me, then why were you so mean to me?”

Tav shrugged, but didn’t pick up her boots. Instead, she leaned back and pulled her long hair into a bun. Yenna watched her, fascinated by the fair highlights in Tav’s hair. Yenna had mentioned to him that her mother kept her hair short out of necessity, that it was easier to steal the essentials without the threat of leaving a strand of hair behind. Now, Halsin bet she would grow it out.  

Tav, the silver ripple in the water. 

“I’m dangerous, kid.”

“There’s a bear in our camp right now.”

“Besides that.”

“And a Sharran—”

“She’s reformed.”

“And a vampire!”

Tav pointed a finger. “The kindest vampire you’ll ever meet, too.”

“How can he be kind, but you are not?” Yenna argued, squinting her bright eyes. Tav met her stare, unfaltering, and in that small moment Halsin recognized Tav’s unmistakable admiration. With Mol, that admiration spawned the moment she foolishly asked for her to steal the idol. For Arabella, it had been when Tav found her parents in the House of Healing—the knowledge that it would crush her spirit, but not her soul. Yenna’s growing confidence in a singular conversation was what was winning her over. 

Tav sighed, angling her gaze to him by the campfire. Halsin quickly feigned sleep. “I almost hurt that bear for fun.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone had to tie me up and hold me down until my mind quieted.”

Shame laced each syllable. Yenna scooted closer to her on the log. “So, you were mean because you didn’t want to hurt me with your hands?”

“I’m surprised I haven’t killed the dog or the owlbear,” Tav muttered, then jutted her chin up, “Or that cat of yours.”

They sat in silence for a good minute, Yenna watching Tav continue to wash her boots and Tav side-eyeing the girl. 

Halsin actually believed he should have been harsher with Tav when they first encountered the girl, but perhaps he failed to see right through her. Tav had aided him always, aided multiple others and merely joked about coin in return. And when Tav had burrowed into his past, with his permission of course, and saw the weight of responsibility he had put on his own shoulders… They saw in each other what others couldn’t: the inescapable need to form such a mountain of righteousness so that it casted a shadow over their countless wrongs. But it was near impossible climbing the height they had measured themselves.

For what Tav had almost done to him, why subject an innocent child to the possibility?  

“Thank you for telling me,” Yenna said, then softly poked Tav’s upper arm. A childish gesture, one that seemed to shock Tav still for a moment. 

Clearing her throat, Tav said, “Just keep your distance from me while I sleep, okay?”

“Where’s your tent?”

“Right next to Astarion’s.”

“Good. Vampires don’t die easily.”

There was a noticeable quirk in Tav’s upper lip, a movement that had Halsin’s stomach swooping and the bear audibly groaning.

“Set up your bedroll near Karlach’s tent. She’s the only one here who is physically capable of stopping me.”

“What about the Githyanki?”

Halsin thought about it for a bit, too. If Tav were to have another uncontrollable episode and she did not provide them warning like last time, who would be able to restrain and who would succumb? Halsin would like to believe his reflexes were spotless, but he had been nicked in battle one too many times already. It was Astarion who watched his back, muttering about what a disposable, yet practical shield he had proven to be. Astarion could definitely outmaneuver Tav on dexterity and flexibility alone. Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart would probably react too late. Jaheria would put up a good fight. Lae’zel and Karlach were the only two Halsin knew could survive the bloodshed.

“Well, she camps far away from us,” Tav said, pointing to the tent closest to the barn’s exit. “Not because she doesn’t like us, but because if there’s ever an attack, she’ll swing first.”

“And she’ll go down first.”

Tav winced. “I think that’s how she shows she cares. It’s the only way she’ll ever let it be known that she’d die for us.”

Oak Father preserve him, he never noticed that before. The bear whined, and Halsin turned his heavy head to try and catch a glimpse of the fighter in her tent.

“I’m not so scared of you anymore,” Yenna declared, smiling brightly. She was missing her left canine. 

Tav hummed, “I’ll make sure to treat you extra poorly in the morning.”

---

“Final question,” the blacksmith said, his voice lowering an octave. “Would you be able to turn your weapon on those closest to you?”

Tav lifted her gaze, irises darkening. “What kind of question is that?”

Halsin made to step forward, but the blacksmith clocked the movement before he fully could. A twisted smile painted his sweaty face. Tav did not balk, nor did she raise a weapon. She merely inspected him, tilting her head to the side as if the angle offered more. 

“It allows me to know just how sharp I should make your blade, how heavy I should make the handle. Should your blade drive through the meat of the one you love most, oh so easily? So easily that the spray of their blood angles directly into your waiting mouth? Should I make the handle light so that when your troubled hands tremble, you are still able to strike true?”

Astarion shook his head as if the words he was hearing were coming from the tadpole itself. He muttered a quiet what the fuck beneath his breath.

“Forgive us,” Halsin interrupted, his face drawn tight. “But we are no longer in need of your services.”

The blacksmith took an audacious step right into Tav’s personal space. Halsin acted quickly, throwing his hands out to push at his armored shoulders. The blacksmith stumbled, but his smile did not falter. 

“You have already tried to steal this family’s breath, have you not? You have imagined what their insides look like, what wonderful necklaces you can wove from each string they offer?”

Halsin growled, his eyes burning gold. “I will savor your own if you do not walk away right now.”

Tav looked up at him, her surprise sincere. As if she truly believed he wouldn’t risk his life for hers. He had told her he would back in his tent in the shadow-cursed lands, promising his ears as well for when her mind needed relief. At this very moment, he would draw his staff and return whatever vile energy the creature before them harbored back to the Oak Father, where his vengeance striked true. Anything for her, for it was the least he could do.

But before anyone could pull a blade, the blacksmith cracked his own neck in a gruesome display of brute strength. His shoulders lifted then popped. His back bent forward, and his feet turned inward. And in a single burst of red, a pale woman stood in his place. Even paler eyes accompanied her vicious aura.

“Blood-kin! You would have this mountain of a servant speak for you?” she laughed, her sultry voice penetrating his chest. It made his heart beat wildly, made the bear cower. “Oh, but I do so enjoy the taste of druid.”

Tav snarled, her fists clenching as she stopped herself from striking a fellow Bhaalspawn. “Orin.”

“Took you long enough,” she judged, wringing out the final cracks of her neck. “It seems my poking and prodding did little to disturb your mind-matter. Or, did it?” 

She winked at Halsin, then circled the two as if they were trapped in a glass box. “Do you not remember who you are? Who we were? What you have done?”

“I remember enough.”

Orin giggled, and swiped a bloody hand across Astarion’s chest. The pale elf stood his ground, but Halsin saw the way his throat bobbed.

“Tell your orc to move aside. My eyes crave the fighter you have become. Though, I much prefer you dripping with innards.” Orin smiled until her red teeth practically took up half her face. A pretty face, Halsin secretly admitted to himself. But there was no lust behind that truth. She looked up at him, taking that same hand that touched Astarion and running it down his own chest. The armor protected him from feeling such grimy fingers, but she pushed and swiveled them the longer he stood still. 

“I can easily step through you,” she threatened, standing on her tip-toes so her foul breath met his nose.

“Step through me, then.”

When the feeling of her slick tongue met his chin, Halsin froze. His stomach dropped a million miles into the Oak Father’s soil, and his nerves splintered one by one. He was back in the Underdark, chained to the most spectacular of bedposts, throwing his head back in shame as the drow matron rode him, as her claws tore across his throat—

Tav gripped Orin by the back of the neck and flung her several feet away. Orin caught herself on an unfinished blade and used it to stand again, paying no mind to the slice in her palm. Her smile held, but a few strands of blond hair broke free from her neatly-kept braid. 

“Have you fucked this one, blood-kin? Have you sucked him dry? Have you come on his thin lips? On his wonder of a cock? Have you killed him, fucked his corpse, and revived him yet?”

“You truly are the bitch of the Gate, aren’t you?” Astarion bit, picking at invisible dirt beneath his fingernails. “Let it be known that if you step through the druid, which I would love to see if I’m being honest, you would have to go through me next. And I am very hard to kill, darling.”

“A challenge! To kill the undead over and over and over again! So many possibilities.”

“Yes, how wonderful. If your bitch-self is able to do that, you would then face the githyanki. And there, you absolute swine, is where you would crumble.”

Tav stepped in front of Halsin, even daring to raise a dagger at her sister. “They are not the only ones who would aid me in your defeat, Orin. I’ve recruited Minthara, and she holds the most brilliant of grudges.”

Orin finally frowned. “Father will see us battle soon enough, Tav. That is the name you chose for yourself all those years ago, no? Oh, wait. Excuse me. The name your mother chose for you.” 

Tav's jaw tightened. 

“How she screamed and whined and begged you not to kill her and your adoptive siblings. How she writhed even as Uncle lifted you from her corpse.”

“I look forward to sinking my teeth into your fucking neck, sister.”

“And I will writhe with the pleasure of it, my dear slaughter-kin.”

Orin disappeared, and Halsin regained feeling in his legs. He reached for Tav, and for the first time since they had met, he took her hand into his own. Her fingers intertwined with his, the size difference settling something dark within him. 

“I can teach you my technique,” Astarion said, his light voice clearing the stale air. “It’s all in the turn of your jaw, see. Then place your canines delicately over the carotid—”

“Tav,” Halsin whispered, squeezing her hand.

“She’s a shapeshifter. A fucking doppleganger. Orin can infiltrate our camp and kill us all.”

Astarion moaned, his worry expertly concealed. “She won’t be able to. We know one another.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “If I repeat it multiple times, maybe I’ll believe it, too.”

“You’re scared?” Tav asked, absent of judgment entirely. Her tone was more sad, if anything.

“She’s terrifying,” Astarion confirmed with a laugh. Then, more seriously, “And she will not touch you.”

Tav shook her head, her grip on Halsin’s hand strong. “I don’t think she’s going to stop coming after us until I accept her duel.”

“Dueling for what exactly?” Lae’zel finally sheathed her sword, but her yellow eyes followed each gust of wind, each insect that flew across her vision, each movement her companions made.

Tav grimaced as she said, shame dripping off the two words, “Bhaal’s chosen.”

Lae’zel straightened. “Is that what you want?”

“You have no opinion on the matter.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Tav pulled her hand from Halsin’s, and he immediately felt the coldness seep through his skin. The action was almost enough to deafen him from Tav’s next announcement. 

“Let’s see what Gortash has to say.”

He scoffed, though he didn’t mean for the sound to signify displeasure. “His opinion is allowed?”

“He knows about Orin. More than me, considering. I should use all the weapons in my arsenal.”

It took everything in him not to outright fight her. Instead, he nodded and immediately regretted it. “You know best, I suppose.”

Her readied insult died as she didn't expect him to fold so easily. She was left looking up at him, studying his eyes for any change. She was fighting herself, fighting something besides her need to battle his every word. 

She cleared her throat, hiding from his gentle stare as she asked, “Could you make me that tea later? The one that’s a little bit spicy.”

He bowed slightly. “Of course.”

“And you—you can share a cup with me, if you want.”

Halsin swore the gold glimmer he possessed dripped along his ribs. “Until later then.”

He watched Tav walk away with Astarion at her side, their arms locked and her head resting on his shoulder. What he would give for that level of closeness with someone—with her, even—instead of people simply using him and vanishing within the month.

“She is strong. We are strong. We will assassinate Orin and leave a trail of blood for her followers to lick clean,” Lae’zel firmly established, her presence doing nothing to quell the sudden emptiness plaguing him. 

“Is it wrong to doubt our abilities?”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue. “Am I to give the old druid wisdom?”

He chuckled, “Advice, more like.”

Ever since embarking on this mission, Halsin questioned his right to give advice at all. The Grove almost fell because he went chasing after the past, he nearly banished Minthara without hearing her plea, and he allowed Mol’s capture because he was too enthralled by a comatose Flaming Fist. Jaheira could take up the mantle of wise druid. He wasn’t worthy of it anyway.

“There is no room for doubt in this fight. We must press on, and worry about the consequences afterwards. Pray that there is an afterwards, that there are consequences.”

He and Lae’zel decided to buy some desserts for the group, wholeheartedly believing that sugar might make everything weighing their shoulders down just a little bit more light.

---

“Tell me about your time in the Underdark, please?”

Halsin never thought he’d bring the topic up ever, especially to a friend. Sometimes there are things best kept hidden away for the risk of all the original emotions carved into his skin bleeding freely again. He had never told anyone, truly. When hinting at it, he kept the story brief. The more serious aspects were always downplayed, and he purposely skipped information so that he didn’t need to reteach himself how to forget.

But as he sat on his bed at the Elfsong with Tav cross-crossed on the floor, sipping the spicy tea he had made, he felt the need to tell her a little more. He had a feeling that she would be able to handle it, and that he would be able to bear the repercussions.

So he told her. Every last detail, down to the smallest he was sure he had forgotten a hundred years ago. But this time he could not smell the drow matron’s perfume, or taste the patron’s poisonous saliva. He couldn’t feel their lingering touch, no, not when Tav held out her empty teacup and softly asked for more. 

“Perhaps that’s why you hated me in the beginning.”

A genuine laugh jumped from his chest. He savored the growing smile on her lovely face. “I have never hated you. Was I skeptical about a female drow saving me from the goblin camp when Minthara camped right upstairs? Yes.”

She smirked, then took a long sip of her filled tea. The events from earlier that day had seemed to evaporate in each sip, and it made him damn near giddy to know it was his tea doing that. 

Tav caught herself before she could lower her gaze, her eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Though it was something plenty of people had uttered before, it still gave him a sense of calmness. Of reassurance. “Once you’ve lived for as long as I have, bad memories begin to turn into something distant. Numb, almost. And with enough time, their past associations change.”

“You’ve… you’ve convinced yourself it didn’t happen?”

No. Triggers existed, but they were rare for him. Orin’s tongue had transported him to that bad place, but Tav’s touch brought him back. “More like I have convinced myself that it was not as bad as I once thought it to be.”

He survived. And though it was entirely non-consensual, he had enjoyed some days. There was shame in that, shame he will carry forever. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You deserved better, Halsin.”

His shoulders fell before he could collect himself. Tav noticed, like she always did. 

“You did what you had to in order to survive, and they met a violent end. A fitting end.”

He actually never found out what became of his captors, but it wasn’t likely they survived a week-long ambush. “I—Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

“The stress of today. Of yesterday. Of what’s to come. It’s really taking its toll.”

She nodded, looking down at her tea. “Don’t tell anybody this, but I’m terrified of what’s to come.”

The pure honesty in her voice… Halsin couldn’t breathe. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me what Shadowheart’s favorite flower is. It’s a night orchid.”

The thought of Orin infiltrating their camp at all was enough to frighten even the bear, so much so that when Halsin attempted to bring him forward, that gold glimmer sparked and faded at his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t the question be about you instead?”

“Shadowheart has only ever told me that. It’s one of the only things she remembers about herself. Orin would never know.”

Smart. He tried to think of something his companions had told him in secret, or something he had told them, but his mind fell blank. It wasn’t that he failed to get to know them properly, but that whenever he would lend an ear, he was simply the first of many. Which, in retrospect, was a proud thing. They were comfortable telling him first, but he did not hold their secrets for long. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me about my mother. If my response isn't that she's doing well, you will know.” He was harboring no secrets of his own, besides the stirring of his heart for the drow sitting in front of him. “Everyone knows I am the last of my line. Orin would know it.”

“And if she takes someone else’s skin?”

“You know your companions well enough, no? It was me you were having difficulty with.”

Tav chuckled, and gulped the last of her tea. Standing, she went to grab his empty cup from his hands. “Thank you for the tea, Halsin.”

And before his mind could attach its wits to his mouth, he softly returned, “Anytime, my heart.”

Tav stilled, the cups rattling against each other as she held them close to her chest. Halsin counted the passing seconds, grappling with his common sense as his mouth formed around invisible words. 

Since joining this merry journey, his wisdom had plummeted to the depths of the Nine Hells. Stupidity flourished in his old, druid soul—

Tav scurried back to him, a dark blush coating her entire face. She planted a quick peck to his cheek, right on his tattoo. 

The gentleness of it lingered until he fell into a deep trance.

---

“Get away from me!”

Halsin startled awake, tripping over the damned sheets of his bed. He had never had blankets before. Or a mattress. Sure, when he shared beds with lovers he rested for a few hours, but he did not indulge in city culture while at the Grove. The only person who had a mattress was Nettie, and only because her back needed the support. 

Halsin wiped at his eyes to find Astarion backing away slowly, finding refuge by Tav’s bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, Tav stirred. She was up in an instant, a dagger pulled from underneath her pillow. 

“How in the Hells did you get in here?” she hissed. Meeting his eye across the room, he understood the signal to wake the others. One by one, as Tav and Astarion attempted to calm his siblings, Halsin shook his companions awake. Lae’zel and Jaheira took to the dark corners, Wyll and Gale spread out but lay low, Shadowheart drank a potion of invisibility, and he, Karlach, and Minthara picked up the heaviest of weapons to stroll straight into the quarrel with. The other vampires stared at them with bright, glowing eyes. Bristling, nearly twitching with each excited breath they took. 

Why didn’t Astarion’s eyes glow? Had the tadpole taken that feature away as well?

Tav succeeded in persuading Leon and Aurelia in seeing the truth behind Cazador’s lies, much to Astarion’s displeasure. He wanted her to lie, to tell them that they could all ascend by killing Cazador together. Halsin’s chest seized as he witnessed the craving of power in Astarion’s demeanor, and as he caught Tav hesitating in her speech. 

One of his siblings saddled closer to Karlach, mindful of the flames, but took a sniff nonetheless. Karlach recoiled. The spawn swallowed, ignoring Karlach’s reaction and Minthara’s glare, all to catch a whiff of his own blood. The spawn’s eyes glowed brighter, their irises vibrating uncontrollably.

The red glow was hunger. 

Astarion was no longer hungry. 

“By the absent Gods, Astarion… I believe you,” Leon said. But Aurelia clutched her stomach and groaned, whispering to Leon about how they couldn’t refuse orders. That Cazador was forcing them to kidnap Astarion, and a deal between them might as well be a joke. Leon pushed his sister behind him as he braced for a fight. Devastation glowed in his eyes, and he muttered a quick apology before he pulled a dagger from his pocket. 

Astarion raised his chin, empathy shown on his face. In his tone. “You can tell Cazador that when I find him, I will tear him limb from limb. I will smile upon his rotten corpse.”

Tav received the first slash. By stepping directly in front of Astarion. The pale elf’s eyes widened as he smelled her blood, her sacrifice. The very concept of mercy seeped from his mind altogether. He cut through his siblings desperately, dodging their blades and spells. 

Shadowheart stuck a blade in the spine of the smallest of the spawn, and fell backwards as they simply disappeared. Called back to their Master. Her blade lay bloody on the rug before it was suddenly picked up by Leon himself. 

And before he could drive it into her throat, Lae’zel burst from the shadows and tackled him. Her roar cracked through Halsin's eardrums, and an equally grating one sounded as she buried her blade deep in his abdomen. Same as his sibling, Leon disappeared from the Elfsong. 

It was pure luck he and his companions outnumbered them. He had just finished shooting an arrow through the shoulder of one aiming for Jaheira’s heart when he heard it. 

A quiet, garbled gasp. 

Tav gripped the dagger’s handle with both hands, leaving it inserted in her stomach. She merely stared at Aurelia. The spawn stared back, her lips trembling and head shaking in disbelief. 

Halsin was behind her in an instant, gripping her hair and swinging her to the floor. The spawn yelped, the last of her siblings infecting their camp. She scrambled backward, whatever she saw in Halsin’s eyes frightening her enough to abandon her own bow. He lifted her and slammed her against the wall, taking pleasure in her groan of pain. 

“Cazador would never let you die here, and yet you drive a blade through my friend’s skin?” he yelled, slamming her again. 

She cried, “Astarion! Please! He ordered us here, he ordered us to kill anyone who stepped in the way! I could not refuse. I could not refuse, I could not refuse, I could not refuse—“

Again and again she repeated it, tears staining her cheeks and drenching her collar. She thrashed, her throat clenching on itself. Again, again, again, again—

“Let her go, Halsin,” Astarion begrudgingly ordered, his bloody daggers limp at his sides. “She cannot disobey.”

“What and let her kill us? Let her take you?” he screamed over his shoulder. 

Minthara stepped forward, observing Aurelia with a sneer. “No,” she drawled. She sunk the broken tip of an arrow in the spawn’s throat. “We merely send her back.”

In a snap, she abandoned her orders for the sake of forced survival, following the rest of her empty-handed siblings. Halsin immediately dashed for Tav, kneeling in front of her to inspect the wound.

“Let me,” he said, his heart pounding.

“No.”

“Tav—“

“I told him I’d protect him and I almost failed tonight. I deserve this.” Still, she did not let go of the blade. The second she pulled, she would bleed out.

Halsin forced himself to breathe normally, shock enveloping his senses. Was that why she got involved with everyone and everything, put herself first in the face of danger, so she could somehow relieve their pain and take the brunt of it? 

“You deserve… pain?” he asked carefully. He had met others who self-harmed before, but he had never treated them directly. Nettie had always taken the lead role in those cases. And perhaps he wasn’t the best person to ask for help either, because his aged brain could only suggest they stop. 

Now, he understood why Tav did it—why she believed she deserved it. And instead of simply telling her to stop, he wanted to heal her from the inside-out so no thoughts like that ever afflicted her again.

“I deserve to be broken and pulled apart all over again, Halsin. I deserve to remember that torture Orin made me suffer.”

She tried to step around him, but Lae’zel’s glare halted her. He caught her arm before she could find an alternate route. 

Her breathing quickened. He loosened his grip, but still managed to tug her closer. To grip the blade’s handle himself. “It is a blessing you do not remember any of it.”

She smiled ruefully, fatigue dimming her eyes. “What do you think my punishment should be? More stabbings?”

“None whatsoever. Now, please let me tend to your wound.”

“If she really wants to break me, all she has to do is give me my memories back,” she laughed, though it was pained. From self-hatred or from the wound, he did not know. “But in her eyes, it would be a gift.”

Without much struggle, he laid her down and wordlessly instructed Wyll to bring fresh water and clean rags. She stared as he worked around the wound first, silent but present. Though no emotion painted her face, Halsin knew he wasn’t being scrutinized. There was something deeper there. Something akin to admiration, something holy. 

When Wyll returned and gripped Tav’s hand as Halsin quickly pulled the blade out, Halsin let his mind settle. He drowned out her cries and worked tirelessly, stitching her insides with magic and muttering sweet words under his breath. He didn’t think she was listening, but he said them just the same. 

“I couldn’t let them take him,” Tav breathed, her eyelids fluttering. “I think I was just as bad as Cazador, and if he had been taken…”

“You must not compare yourself to true evils, my heart. For you are not the person in absent memories, nor the person Orin wants you to be. I have it on good authority that Astarion would agree, and would kill you himself if you even matched Cazador in cruelty. For that, there is hope in your atonement yet.”

Somehow a smile broke through her exhausted face. “You are too nice to me.”

Halsin pulled the bedsheet over her healing stomach. And because she was barely conscious, he found the confidence to say, “Trust me, I am more than what I ever was when I am with you.”

---

“There’s absolutely no way, you little shit.”

Halsin had to blink so Tav’s words were processed fully. The way she spoke to children… At this point in their journey, there was only a sliver of guilt as he admitted he found it sort of funny.

Mol puffed out her chest, fists on her hips and face absent of an eyepatch. “Surprised to see me here? Well, right back at ya! Glad to see ya made it here in one piece!”

Tav listened intently as Mol described what she’d been up to all this time, all the trinkets she acquired roaming the Lower City, her new position in Guild. 

“Get away from my pockets, child,” Jaheira sneered, but there was a hint of pride hidden in her voice. In her slight grin. Something akin to respect. 

“I don’t need your scraps, ya old weirdo! I’ve got Nine-Fingers up my sleeve, a certain devil protecting my hide, and a handsome ol’ wizard slipping me scrolls whenever he can!”

Jaheira was unruffled by her insult, which made Mol even more assured. But the second she met Halsin's stare, a muscle in her jaw jumped, giving her away.

“Tell me you did not make that deal with Raphael, Mol,” Halsin pleaded.

“None of your business, tree-hugger.”

Wyll sighed, closing his eyes. “Raphael may talk sweet, but he’ll cut you quicker than you can beg. Whatever he’s promised, know that it cannot be met without repercussions or consequences. I should know, Mol.”

Tav set a gold chalice back on the wooden crate, leaning over to check out Mol’s jewelry collection instead. “Is that how you escaped Moonrise? And got your eyesight back?”

Her monotone voice confused the small tiefling—Why would two men care more about her situation? But Halsin recognized the trick. No sense of urgency, unlike all the other times she and Mol had met, would get her talking. Wanting to expand on her deal with Raphael just so she could prove that all she’s accomplished so far measured up to the way Tav saw her. 

“What’s the big deal now? I got out, and now I’ve gotta hold up my end.”

“Which is?” Wyll pressed. 

“He gave me a damn eyeball back! The deal could have been a lot worse.”

“Mol,” Halsin grumbled. 

“Thievery is my domain, druid. I’m his little thief.”

Wyll leaned in. “That’s all that was exchanged?”

Mol's nose curled. “Where’s ya head at, ya thick warlock? Of course that’s it!”

Wyll’s shoulders dropped. Halsin had never spoken to Mizora in the time she lounged around the Elfsong. Never asked Wyll to elaborate on their daily check-ins. Never asked about the other missions she had sent him on. Whatever Wyll shared with him, the group, Halsin was grateful for. 

Now he couldn’t stop wondering what his hands would look like wrapped around Mizora’s throat.

And he couldn’t stop the worry from hitting him square in the chest as Tav said her goodbyes. Would they leave Mol to the Guild? To Raphael’s slimy grasp? She and Yenna would probably get along, and Gods knew Yenna needed another girlfriend besides Karlach. 

“Here,” Mol said, handing Tav a pouch of coins and a sealed letter. “I trust you’ll deliver this for me?”

“Stupid assumption.”

Mol rolled her eyes. “Deliver it, will ya? It’s going to your favorite tiefling wiiiiizaaaarrrrd.”

Tav mimicked her voice, flicking the young tiefling off before turning on her heel. 

They can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here… He can’t leave her here.

“Astele would sooner die than harm a child of the Gate,” Jaheira whispered to him. “And the child is smart enough to gain her trust in time.”

“This is no place for a child."

“No, it isn’t,” Jaheira agreed, raising an eyebrow. “But what of Geraldus? He made his choice, and it was an honorable one. I tried to stop him and got put in my place by our resident cub. What of Arabella, wandering alone and told to simply trust the Weave? We let her go, and our hope reigns. What of Mattis and Umi and Bex and Dannis? We cannot save everyone, but we can help them along their path.” 

“Is leaving Mol here helping her?”

Jaheira looked over her shoulder, eyeing Mol as she showed a child around her own age the proper hand movements to reach inside a pocket. “It is acceptance. It is trust. It is the knowledge that we are capable of stepping back when we have to. Mol has proven herself a hundred times over, and this deal with Raphael will only be a lesson. Besides, what hypocrite you are for telling the same devil you would consider his offer about the crown instead of disagreeing immediately?”

Perhaps Jaheira was right. For years, Halsin had put the needs of others on his shoulders regardless of their weight. Unoccupied now, his days felt empty.

Tav was doing the same and it seemed like only he could see the true consequence of it. Everyone else in their camp was occupied with their own predicaments, Jaheira now having to find and stop Minsc, so no one had seen Tav’s height lowering. Without the threat of the shadow curse, he was no longer blind. Though their companions cared for Tav’s wellbeing, they could not see past their own mist. He did not blame them—he was strong enough to help her, nourish her, lift her. By helping Tav, he would help himself.

“Does this change our plans with Raphael?” Wyll asked, worrying his bottom lip. 

“No,” Tav promised. She pushed the doors open and ignored the grumbling from the two guards eyeing her every move. “We kill the bastard, steal the hammer, and make damn sure Mol never finds out.”

Easier said than done.

---

The third time he heard Tav scream was when she delivered the final blow that brutalized Lorroakan’s insides. With her sword lifted high and Karlach’s boot in his neck, Tav sliced open his abdomen and pulled out his large intestine. Wet and red, Tav squeezed, seemingly savoring the squelching noise that bounced off the windows of Ramazith’s Tower. 

And when she moved aside to let Dame Aylin through, Halsin savored the sound of his spine splitting upon her blessed knee. 

They had stopped at Sorcerous Sundries right after seeing Mol, the coin purse all too tempting for Astarion. When they arrived and took immediate note of the bruises scattered across Rolan’s handsome face, Halsin knew they wouldn’t just be dropping off the coin. 

Rolan had done a good job at keeping his composure until the questions began. 

“I can take the beatings. When I mess up a spell, his beatings are a practical way to make me get it right the next time. My track record is impressive—”

“Discipline is to be given with purpose,” Lae’zel had bit, snarling. “Your bruises are scattered. Careless. Smack a soldier’s hand for fumbling their blade, not their cheekbones. Break a child’s fingers for stealing, not puncture their stomachs. Lorroakan is toying with you, tiefling. That is no good teacher.”

And when Rolan confirmed it, Tav’s face had fallen flat. Scarily detached. Lae’zel had a similar reaction, but she nodded her head as if agreeing with the unspoken decision amongst the group. 

Lorroakan would be dead before the sun set. 

Now, Rolan panted as he hurried to their side and examined what was left of his old Master. “He’s really dead. The bastard’s dead.”

Tav looted Lorroakan’s corpse and passed Gale the magical trinkets she would have no use of. 

“And I seem to be out of scrolls,” Tav commented, wiping blood from her forehead. Standing up with a groan, she did her best to give Rolan a true smile. But the fight was tough, so much so that she had spent most of her time throwing healing potions to Karlach, who insisted on being in the middle of it all. “Would the new Master of Ramazith’s Tower kindly sell me some? I’d be willing to pay double.”

Rolan’s eyes watered, but that signature arrogance seeped through as he straightened his shoulders and sketched a bow. Silver menace, Halsin thought. He and Tav were so similar.  

Rolan’s eyes lit up as he remembered, “I promised you a discount.”

Tav waved a bored hand through the air. “You promised Gale a discount.”

Rolan closed his eyes for a second before throwing himself into Tav’s arms, holding her as tightly as his sore arms allowed. Tav stiffened, her cheek squished against Rolan’s hard chest and the top of her head directly beneath his chin. She met Halsin’s eye and found only encouragement. 

She wrapped her arms around the tiefling and squeezed, her eyes closing in comfort. 

“Master Rolan… I quite like the sound of that,” Rolan joked, clearing the sentiment from his throat. “I shall move Cal and Lia in at once!”

“I’m going to need as many wizards in this upcoming fight with the Absolute. I would like my favorite wizard at my side.”

Astarion snickered beside Gale, even going as far as poking his elbow into his ribs. Gale simply waved him off. 

“You will have the full force of Ramazith’s Towers at your service.” Then, softer and sweeter, “Thank you, Tav.”

Tav practically sparkled. Halsin forced himself to look away, only to meet Karlach’s knowing gaze. 

“I’m just sorry I can’t kill him again,” Tav said. “Know that you are always welcome at our camp. That you can always ask for our help with bitchy customers or entitled explorers.”

“And you will always have a room here if you need it.”

---

Halsin found her on the roof of the Elfsong, Lakrissa having whispered the hint when he inquired about Tav’s whereabouts. With a wink and a promise of a drink later, Lakrissa confirmed what he had worried about. People were starting to notice his feelings, his desires… People were starting to see right through him. 

Tav finished tying her hair up when she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It hit him so hard he fumbled over his own feet, a blush crawling up his neck. Tav pretended not to notice, and said nothing as he moved to sit on the cushion beside hers.  

As she looked over the balcony’s edge, watching the birds fly in triangles and the leaves float through the wind, Halsin watched her. Her skin was lighter than Minthara’s, and the pale burn stretching diagonally from the top right of her forehead to her bottom left cheek definitely set them apart. He wondered if she picked up that scar from battle, from her early days as a Bhaalspawn, or from the torture she had endured and forgot at Moonrise. She had never commented on it, nor did anyone bring it up. Yet, Halsin prayed it was a simple story like his own scar, nothing fancy, and that the brutal violence that seemed to follow their heels was altogether absent. 

With her hair up, he was able to outline the scar. Unable to control the desire to run his thumb down the extent of it. But he reeled it in, and sat beside her with his hands in his lap. 

“You know… I at least have an excuse for my violence. Lorroakan was just a bastard,” Tav suddenly shared, a worn chuckle breaking through. “But then again, going off of my logic, Orin has a valid excuse, too.”

“Orin is a different breed.”

Her mouth fell into a frown. “If she would have been kidnapped and infected with a tadpole, you would be sharing your tea with her. Rolan would be thanking her. You would be confiding in her.”

Halsin did not believe that true for one second. Orin was frightening, and the added effect of a tadpole was sure to make her everyone’s worst nightmare. Still, he replied with, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Tav grumbled, unsatisfied. What else could he say? That she got out but her sister didn’t? That she was given a new chance at life and her sister was still wreaking havoc underground? Was he supposed to feel sorry for Orin? 

“I am one God’s chosen,” Tav whispered, then turned to him with a flicker of hope in her mismatched eyes. “But do you think I can pray to another god?”

“Yes.”

“Is your Oak Father free?”

“Silvanus?” he asked, the fluttering of his heart nearly booming in his ears. He wondered if she could hear it, if her own matched his rhythm. “Look at where you sit. You are surrounded by his creations, even if they are muted in this city. The air you breathe, the ground you walk on, the flowers you smell. Silvanus asks for little in return, other than nurture nature, each other, and yourself. If you are worried about whether or not Silvanus will hear your prayers, do not be. He hears them, and does what can be done.”

“I have killed hundreds of people. I have mutilated their corpses, stolen their coin, desecrated their gravesites.”

“Forgiveness is something all gods offer.”

“But do I deserve it?”

No longer a boom, but a crack echoed through his ears. 

“Does Astarion deserve it after all the souls he brought Cazador?” he asked.

“He’s changed,” Tav declares, defensive, “And the gods never answered him.”

“Perhaps his change and his current situation is answer enough.”

Yet another thing that maddened him. Why did no God answer Astarion’s pleas? Why was he discarded, as were his siblings, and forced to endure two-hundred years of pain? Why did Astarion have to change at all to gain recognition? He was split on whether Silvanus would help an undead creature, one who couldn’t even harvest the sun's bounty. Did the Oak Father consider Astarion an undead with a soul in need of saving, or an undead with nothing but a masked scent?

Would the Oak Father consider Tav a soul worth saving after she had stolen the very souls he sprouted? Was change enough for both her and Astarion that he would practice benevolence?

Tav sucked in a deep breath. Shame suddenly etched across her face, as did an unsatisfying flush in her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly around an invisible word. He waited, and offered an encouraging smile.

“I don’t remember kissing anyone who wasn’t dead,” she admitted, her voice wholly dejected. As if this one admission was enough to squander any acceptance from Silvanus. “My memories are vague, of course. But I do remember one man. His heart was beating. I don’t think I ever killed him.”

Halsin had to tread carefully or else the reopening of her wounds could prove dangerous. 

“Did you want to kiss your victims?”

She paused. “I think Orin wanted me to.”

“Do you see Orin in those memories?”

“I see her laughing.”

What in the Hells was their dynamic like? Though not related by blood, Orin had played the role of evil elder sister and Tav the role of evil little one. But had Orin been the most depraved of the two? The most abhorrent and wicked? Was Tav a subject of immorality, but able to control her urges more often? To be a Bhaalspawn and to not resist the urge to maim… Tav’s blood was diluted, while Orin had been pumped full.

If Orin had been kidnapped and infected, Halsin wholeheartedly believed he would have died by her dagger that night, that the Grove would have fallen, that the shadow curse would have never been lifted. 

“She may have ordered me to do that stuff, but I still did it. I killed to honor my father, but kissing them? That was to satisfy Orin. To satisfy something darker than the urge. And when we saw Rolan today… I snapped. All I could see was his unwillingness to adhere to Lorroakan's insane orders. I saw his fear. And if any of my victims had felt that way, then avenging Rolan was as much of an apology as I could ever give them.”

To live a life with the knowledge it wasn’t entirely full, that there was a separate personality all along…

Halsin cleared his throat, shuffling the slightest bit closer to her. She stayed where she was, but marked his movement. “Do you remember anything else about that man you mentioned?”

Tav thought about it for a second. Something curious flashed across her face, but he couldn’t name it. “I—I just remember a gold hand.”

Dragonborn, maybe? He didn’t voice the theory obviously. 

But what he said next surprised him enough that his mouth dried instantly. 

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Tav’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.”

She chuckled, embarrassment evident in how she twiddled her thumbs. Her nails clinked together, the shine of the purple metallic polish sending a shiver down his spine. Oh, how it would feel to receive fresh, consensual scars from her. 

“The Oak Father won’t call it a disgrace?”

“I am positive he won’t,” he assured her. He moved closer, careful to not loom over her. Their knees touched. “I can be your beating heart.”

“And you want this?”

This was the time to be truthful. To bathe in the confidence he had cultivated and perfected by his hundredth year. To admit to her that what he was feeling was something else entirely than what his body had told him to feel for years. “For a long time, if I’m being honest. I go where my heart leads. It would be a lie to say you haven’t surprised me. Encouraged me, astonished me. You are magnificent. A beacon of hope, even if the shimmer is burning you from the inside-out.”

“I don’t want to simply be another notch on your belt.”

“Do not ever reduce yourself as such. My heart does not stir lightly,” he tried to reason, tried to pretend that her words didn’t hurt.

“But that’s what it is, Halsin. I appreciate the gesture, but I respect your place in nature. You are a creature who cannot stay in one place for a long time, and granted I am, too. Though I see myself moving with only one person on my arm, forever. If I ever beat this curse of mine, I want the choice. I want the opportunity. And I want to be someone’s only choice, selfishly.”

“I—”

“I am not asking you to change yourself for me,” she said, her breath quickening. “I know there have been plenty of lovers and there will be plenty more. But I have stolen loves from so many people. I have stolen their opportunities. It does not feel right to indulge, and it doesn’t feel right to indulge with you.”

“Perhaps I mistook our relationship, or rather our… tension, wrongly” he explained, masking his pain.

She let out a frustration moan. “I want you, but only if you’re just mine. And I can’t have you, because that’s not my fate.”

She believed that she did not deserve him. That he was a prize? Halsin couldn’t think of himself as such, nor could he believe that she was punishing herself so. But as he remembered how she stepped right into the path of danger when Astarion’s siblings attacked, how she did not want to be patched up, it finally made sense. 

Atonement. Atonement in the form of punishment. The punishment of loneliness. 

Like Gale, who hid himself away after absorbing the darkest Weave. Having no one to speak to besides Tara, besides letters with his mother. Who tried his hardest to create distance between him and Astarion, but failed when the vampire lured him with nothing but sweet, honeyed words. Like Karlach, who tried her hardest not to sneak away at night to visit Dammon. But with the Elfsong so close to his newest forge, she could not help overstepping her self–inflicted choice. Like Wyll, who made a deal with a devil and accepted exile. Who couldn’t speak the truth and fell into the belief that maybe he wasn’t ever meant to. Who would rather his father hate him from afar than know what he had become.

“What do you believe is your fate?” he asked, perhaps a little too harshly.

“To help all of you. Save Baldur’s Gate. And then die.”

He stood, his muscles straining as he tried to relax. He gripped the balcony’s edge. She did not move from her spot, frozen as she stared and burned through the back of his head.

And like Gale, Tav had chosen to blow up any chance at long-term redemption. Like Karlach, Tav had chosen to burn when it was all over. They had all chosen wrong.

How to prove to them that they were worth everything and more, how to prove that the world was better with them in it? How to prove to Tav that he wasn’t sure he was a wild heart anymore, and that maybe, just maybe, she was the reason. 

Selfish as she was apparently, he wanted to prove that he was ten times worse.

“A single kiss then. I ask nothing more, and expect nothing else in return.”

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow upon her scarred face. The heat was touching her, and oh how he envied it so. “Why?”

He turned, lifting his chin so that all she could see was sincerity. “Because you have been deprived of it. Because you are over a hundred years old and do not remember the caress of another. Because Bhaal has made you desensitized.”

“So, pity then?”

“Because it would be your choice.”

She glanced down at her hands, at the brick beneath her cushion. Whatever quarrel she was having with herself looked tiring. And Gods did he want her to relent. 

“Out of everyone here,” she breathed, “I don’t know why I only want to kiss you.”

His own breath came faster as she stood and walked to him. Placing a hand upon his chest, she caressed the fabric. Curiosity bloomed in her irises, and he let her roam for a minute or so. Let her have the chance at feeling another living being. She rested her palm over his heart, and muttered her count.

“Ten,” she said, closing her eyes, “Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Endless,” he confirmed, reaching up to take that same palm in his hand. Though he recognized the lust in her eyes, he also saw the fear. He was so much taller than her, so much older, and in her opinion, good. But she had forgotten the bloodthirst he had in the goblin camp, the hand he had wrapped around Kagha’s throat, the fact that Isobel had fallen all those years ago because of his blade. If they were comparing their misdeeds, they were equal.

“Whenever you say stop,” he said, leaning down so their lips brushed, “We stop. Okay?”

Tav did her best to nod, but Halsin recognized that dazed movement anywhere. She was floating. 

“Come back to me, little one.”

With that, the glaze in Tav’s eyes disappeared. She leaned forward, pressing further until their lips moved as one. Halsin used a single finger to lift her chin, the kiss slow. He was in no hurry to rush it, no hurry to end what should be their only kiss. This was a transaction of sorts—

Tav wrapped a desperate hand around the back of his neck, pushing her upper body against him. In turn, their kiss deepended. Nearly ravenous, but full of all that bashfulness she had expressed earlier. When was the last time he had participated in such a chaste kiss? In his youth, surely. His past lovers were scattered, none staying around for more than a month. And he was just as guilty when it came to long-term predicaments. The bear roamed, and he answered its call. 

But here, with Tav’s lips molding so beautifully into his own with innocent need, he experienced the combination of love and lust. He wanted to continue kissing her, no matter where it led. He wanted to kiss her tomorrow, no matter the bear’s torment. He wanted to kiss her always, and be all she ever wanted. 

Tav pulled him in deeper, hungry, gaining more confidence as he followed her lead. He didn’t need to teach her anything, it seemed. Whether this was instinct or because she too felt the overwhelming desire to burrow into his skin, Halsin was more than happy to be her practice doll, more than happy to explore all impulses. Good or bad. 

Gods save him, good or bad. 

“Kiss me harder, please,” Tav pleaded, the gravel in her voice causing him to harden. He made sure his hips didn’t meet hers. But she was pushing deeper, stepping forward and neatly entangling their legs together. Halsin backed up, mindful of the balcony’s edge. He sat carefully and let her push herself between his open legs, and at this angle they were practically face to face. Tav kissed him harder, slipping her tongue over his bottom lip. A question. 

He opened his mouth and finally tasted her, groaning lowly. When they arrived at the Gate, their fruit assortment expanded. Here they were able to indulge in more than just apples and oranges. Tav tasted of kiwi and the lemon she squeezed in her morning tea. She tasted of the butter buns he always caught Karlach stealing, of the cinnamon cookies Yenna had tried her hand at baking yesterday. He knew he tasted of that same tea, but Halsin had found himself indulging more in grapes and cinnamon rolls Cher Rover saved specifically for him. Separating from Tav now would be a crime to everything sweet. 

“Halsin,” Tav rasped, her slender hands coming around to cup his scarred cheeks. He kept his own at her waist. “A single kiss.”

“A single kiss,” he repeated, sharing her breath. He dove in for more, their statement ignored and the two unbothered. They could extend this single kiss for hours and technically be right.

She suddenly gasped, stiffening against him. Her face pulled tight.

“Tav?” Halsin tried, worry spiking to the point he tried standing. Tav did not move, her grip on his shoulders too strong. 

Her eyes were watery with sorrow as she opened them. “I had a vision of pushing you off the balcony.”

Halsin held his breath. She made no move to do so. 

A nervous laugh escaped him. “I could just shapeshift into a bird, my heart.”

She waited, her mouth opening and closing awkwardly. The mere absurdity of the situation drew a short laugh from her, her eyes clearing simultaneously. She slid her hands down his neck, then settled them on his chest. Pulling back so their noses brushed, Tav nudged him slightly in question. Halsin nodded, completely basked in the glow of her exploration. Tav traced his curves and grooves, his scars and age marks, starved for touch alone. And when she reached his waistband, he pulled back to ask the same of her. 

She nodded, and he moved his hands up. 

Together they learned the whispers of their fingers and just how long they could hold their breaths. Together they slid their bodies closer, moving against one another to apply the necessary pressure needed to reach that delectable edge. Halsin kept his thick thigh planted between her legs, groaning as Tav rolled her cunt against it, chasing her high at a slow pace. 

Though she was desperate to feel such bliss with a willing partner, she did not rush it. Halsin didn’t want her to either. He would stay up here for hours, learning her likes and dislikes, learning how to properly sketch the length of her body with his tongue. 

“Gently,” he coaxed, bringing a hand up to tangle at the back of her head. He pulled her face from the crook of his sweaty shoulder and held her there, burning their gazes together as she took his order into consideration. She slowed her movements but bent deeper, so much so that her weight alone forced him to swallow down the savageness of the bear. “That’s it. There you go. I want you to learn your body first before you learn mine.”

“Fuck,” Tav rasped, bringing both hands to his head to mimic his grip. Halsin bit his lip to keep from pushing his hips up. She moved faster, no doubt the glow in her stomach at a full frenzy. 

“So beautiful,” he continued, his voice now at the lowest register he’d ever heard. Everything about this felt different—her scent relaxed his very core, her weight fought and won against the weight of his responsibilities, her noises sank deep into his chest and melted along his ribs. In his three-hundred and fifty years, he had never experienced such a connection. He would like to believe that he had been attentive to past lovers, but Tav… He wasn’t even actively providing the pleasure and yet she had destroyed his concept of sex from the inside-out.

“Make yourself come,” Halsin said, tempting her even further by pulling her in for a searing kiss. Tav whined, her hips losing their rhythm—

The hatch opened before Tav reached her climax, paralyzing her against Halsin’s chest. He held her tighter, and shot daggers at their intruder over her trembling shoulder. 

Wyll stood on the ladder wide-eyed, clutching his chest as if the scene before him had prompted heartburn. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he stuttered over his apology. “I can just… go get fresh air in the street.”

As the hatch shut, Tav removed herself from Halsin’s protective grip. He could not stop his body from reaching out for her.

“Tav.”

Backing away on wobbly legs, she did her best at offering a practiced smile. “Goodnight, Halsin.”

Later, when they rescued Minsc and dealt with the aftermath, Tav avoided his eyes and overcompensated with their newest arrival. Loud jokes, prolonged questioning—it made Halsin want to hide away forever, or until his beating heart called another’s name.

---

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tav whispered, though her moan gave her away. Her slender fingers rose along his hips, tugging at his waistband. He had left his shirt behind, embracing the chill of nature. If he was going to bed Tav in the flowerbed near the Elfsong, he would do so with as little clothing in the way. The quicker his flesh met hers, the quicker the fire in his heart would settle. Though, Tav’s panting gave it the oxygen to thrive. Her tongue licked the flames, burning him brightly, to the point he dropped to his knees with all thoughts scorched except one. 

He devoured her, swiping his tongue along her slit and soaking up all she gave. She yelped, her fingers combing through his loose hair. She had taken his braids out one-by-one hours ago, massaging his scalp and whispering sweet-nothings along the sensitive skin of his pointy ears. Now, she gripped and pulled, relishing in the vibrations his groans made against her most intimate flesh. She pulled him in deeper, slapping one hand back against the stone of the building. Their companions could surely hear them—the windows were knocked open. And the thought invaded just as quickly as she came on his eager tongue: Astarion or Shadowheart—Gale—watching from the windowsill and getting themselves off at the same time. Learning from watching Halsin feast, from watching his cock drive into the beautiful woman wailing his name. 

“Halsin,” Tav breathed, pulling him up to stand. He let her use her strength, let her be in charge, guiding him in all places. “Fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t help crying your name. Fuck me and claim me as yours, forever. Come inside me, mark me as yours.”

The bear nearly broke loose, territorial to the highest extremes.

Halsin drove into her slowly, deeply, the squeeze stealing the air in his lungs and threatening to knock him out. She felt divine, like nothing he had ever felt before. He had many lovers, but none had wrapped around him with both sex-crazed madness and lo—

Halsin sucked in a gust of air, shooting upward in his bed. The beds at the Elfsong creaked when one changed position, and he had no doubt he had awakened someone close by. The nearest bunk to his left was Minthara’s, and Astarion to his right. But neither moved to indicate they heard him or scented his obvious arousal. 

Cursing softly, he laid back down and tried to steady the beating of his heart. Tav was far away enough, bunking near Karlach tonight, that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Hear anything. And he prayed the two nearest him wouldn’t hate him for this. 

Halsin reached below the sheets and gripped his hardness, shutting his eyes as that touch alone threatened to make him audible. Slowly he dragged his hand up and down, stopping at the tip to swipe. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker the shame could come and go. 

Tav had not sought him out after their kiss and… heavy-petting session, but he had seen the heat in her eyes. A promise that she had enjoyed their time together, his touch. The memory of that silver fire had him moving his hand faster. He reached to cup his balls with the other, biting his lip as the pleasure at the base of his spine grew. He remembered how her hips moved over his, how her mouth tasted, how her arousal smelled. How he had to keep the bear caged, and that made his grip on her even tighter. But it seemed Tav liked that, liked his roughness, and wanted to deliver the same amount. 

The pleasure built and built, until it finally erupted. Halsin choked on a shout, grinding the side of his face into the pillow. Pulling until he milked himself dry. He lay there panting, eyes shut as the guilt slowly crept along his extremities. 

“Darling, I at least have the good graces to please myself in the comfort of my own tent or in the bathroom.”

Halsin froze, and his stomach rotated when Minthara’s voice answered the vampire.

“Lies, Astarion. You haven’t pleased yourself in weeks. You have the wizard to thank for that.”

Astarion choked on his retort, but said nothing to contradict it.

---

“You’re here. Orin was telling the truth.”

Tav crossed her arms as she glared at Gortash, clicking her tongue when she noticed his eyes wandering. She was wearing thin armor today, tight around the waist and non-restricting around the neck. Halsin had stared for a long while before they had left their rooms, readjusting his trousers when she purposely bent down to grab her weapon of the day. She had winked, lifted her skirts to expose her thigh, and whispered a promise of lifting it higher when they returned. 

Now, as Gortash made a meal of her, it unsettled something greedy in Halsin. He had no right to shield Tav, but there was grime in the villain’s eyes. And he was done convincing himself he would feel this affected with just any lover.

Tav ignored Gortash’s initial surprise, allowing Wyll to take the lead.

“My father, Gortash. Let him go—”

“Oh, but I wasn’t talking to you, Wyll Ravengard,” Gortash snapped, a smile still playing on his pale lips. He gave Wyll an unimpressed once-over, then turned back to Tav. “My favorite little assassin… Tell me, how has the holiday been?”

"I could've done with less cultists, you absolute lunatic."

Wyll held his breath.

“I know it was Orin who kidnapped me from Baldur’s Gate. I want to know why.”

Gortash wasn’t exactly handsome, especially not when he frowned. The action seemed to drag his stress lines further. But he held himself like a man with power, and with power came confidence. 

“By the gods, they weren’t kidding. You truly don’t remember any of it, do you?” he said, huffing a simple laugh, one that scraped the walls of Halsin’s skull. “Why, it was us who orchestrated this grand design in the first place.”

The entire audience hall seemed to freeze as they processed Gortash’s outlandish claim. 

Tav swallowed, her lilac cheeks losing all color. “What?”

He made his way down the stairs, his robes swinging with each powerful stride. Tav stood her ground, but Karlach pointed her long ax at the new Archduke. Halsin inched closer to Tav as well, but he was more mindful of the rattling Steel Watch targeting Karlach.  

Gortash dismissed the metal monstrosity. He stood close enough now that Halsin smelled the city and a hint of rosemary on him. 

“The tadpoles, the brain, opening a Hells gate, the cult, everything. And Orin went and betrayed you, wanting the stones all to herself. Betrayed us.”

“It was… It was me? All of it?”

“Our raid of Mephistopheles’ lair will be spoken about in the Hells for centuries.”

“The crown…” Tav whispered, the memory of its abduction no doubt swimming in her mind. Then guilt clouded her features—for all of it. The infestation, the deaths they caused, Gale’s obsession with Karsus’s forbidden magic. She was spiraling, blaming herself for all it—

“My pretty little mastermind,” Gortash practically purred, raising a hand to gently swipe it down her cheek. Halsin growled, a low glimmer of gold coming off of him. Gortash grinned savagely. “I have tried to keep everything in order in your absence. All the things you entrusted me with.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Karlach screamed, alerting some Flaming Fists. Again, Gortash dismissed them with a simple wave.

“How do you know him?” Karlach inquired further.

Tav turned to the tiefling. “I—”

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Orin really did a number on you, didn’t she? Always a lapdog, she was. Begging to be Bhaal’s chosen ever since she learned how to whine. But she is careless, and too distracted.”

Gods, it made so much sense. The tadpoling center under Moonrise, Orin’s vendetta, Gortash’s odd truce. His chest ached with the need to hold her, to remind her that that wasn’t who she was anymore. She had changed, brought about a change in Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale, Minthara—

Him. 

If he could take her away from all of this, meet her in the afterglow, he would sprint and never look back. She had done so much good these last few months and Gortash’s jealous speech was a threat to her already fragile sanity. 

“You… You worked with strategy. You had a purpose. You were determined. I tolerate Orin, but I liked you.”

He followed Tav’s distressed gaze to the golden glove encasing the purple netherstone. 

The gold hand.

“We worked all through the night, you and I. Perfecting this scheme. When you disappeared, I admit I worried for your safety,” Gortash said, his irises darkening. “I missed you.”

Halsin didn’t have to move—Tav reached for his hand and gripped it tight. Gortash noted their connection, but his smile only grew. A more tame twin of Orin’s, it seemed.

“What was I to you?” Tav insisted. “What were you to me?”

“This cannot be happening,” Karlach cringed, several dramatic gags accompanying her declaration.

Gortash rolled his eyes. “A travesty Orin erased so much. Perhaps I shouldn’t reminisce with your companions present.”

“Tell me what I did.”

Karlach gave an incredulous gasp of protest, but Tav remained adamant. 

“What you did… Enthusiastically, might I add. Seeing you now is overwhelming. The way your lips tasted, how your eyes would roll to the back of your head, your neck bared for me. I heard there is a spawn in your company… Do you give your neck to him? Do you scream for him like you screamed for me?” 

Tav snarled as Karlach exclaimed, “Liar!”

“Do not be a child, Karlach,” Gortash snapped. “Tav and I, two adults, were together even while you were by my side. I’m surprised you never met.”

“A secret,” Tav confirmed, though her statement came out more as a shameful question.

“It saddens me that you don’t remember anything but that. Perhaps we can come to an agreement over this Ravengard business.”

“What did you have in mind?” Wyll chimed in, seemingly unmoved by the revelation. If his relationship was something other with her, Halsin would too disregard Gortash’s claims. Tav’s past sex life was none of his business, neither was it Wyll’s, but the fact Gortash had such a lively role in it… The one living soul Tav remembered touching…

Something dark stirred in the pit of his stomach, its claws begging to rip open its cage and eviscerate his opponent. The bear had disemboweled plenty of enemies, but this one—this one Halsin wanted to tear apart with his bare hands.  

Gortash lowered his voice as he spoke next, enough of a signal that the surrounding Fists turned their heads. 

“I will hand over Duke Ravengard right now with a promise to keep him safe, if…” he trailed off, bowing his head to chuckle. “Listen to me bargaining. How unbecoming of me. I am a dealer, not a trader.”

“Speak plainly, Gortash,” Wyll pushed, the hair-raising tone causing Gortash’s brows to rise.

He turned to Tav. “If you agree to spend the night with me, Ravengard walks freely.”

“No deal.”

They were the first words Halsin had spoken since entering the audience hall. He couldn't give less of a shit for intruding on what was obviously Tav’s decision. 

“Halsin—” she hissed.

Gortash laid an elegant hand over his own chest. “How marvelous! Does he speak for you? Is no your answer, too?”

“It’s a no because I don’t want to touch you.”

“You begged for it before.”

Tav bared her teeth. “I won’t anymore.”

“Wyll? If you’re anything like your father, you’ll have some sense. Your father’s freedom, for her cunt.”

Wyll recoiled, his disgust multiplying as Gortash raised his hand yet again to brush Tav’s cheek. This time, however, Halsin shoved the man away. 

And was promptly held back by two Fists. Thrashing, Halsin fought to keep the bear within.  

“May the gods smite you, Gortash. May this land turn on you in your hour of greatest need,” Wyll threatened, taking the words right out of Halsin’s mouth.

Gortash raised a single brow, unimpressed. “Interesting company you keep nowadays. If you won’t give me what I desperately crave,” he drawled, causing a visible shiver to crawl up Tav’s spine, “then we shall explore other roads.”

“One more word from you and I will kill you.” The Fists were hesitant to grab Karlach, and the look she shot at them severed the idea completely. "And that was a trade, you dumb motherfucker!"

“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this, Karlach. I am on your side. I want nothing more than to save this city and rule side-by-side with Tav here. I am a fair man. And to show you I am a man true to my word, I shall warn you.”

“Threats? Seriously?” Karlach fumed.

“Not from me. By now you’ll have found out that Orin is a shapeshifter. And I warn you that she will strike soon. One of these nights, when you feel safest, she will deceive you.”

“And what do we owe you for this information?” Tav spit, lifting her chin.

Finally, Gortash intertwined his hands behind his back, seemingly aware that Tav was not going to take his absurd deal. Strangely respectful in that sense. 

“Kill Orin, reclaim your birthright, and make an ally of me.”

“Despicable piece of shit.” 

Gortash gestured at the Fists to release him. Halsin remained where he was, and he could have sworn relief flashed across Gortash’s face.  

“Kill Orin, bring me her stone, and I might just prolong the protection of your father, Wyll.” He turned back up the steps, his confidence stitching itself back into his body as it realized the audience was still looking at him. “Think about it, Tav. I am no liar, and my respect for you knows no bounds.”

That night, Tav drank herself to sleep and took residence in one of the booths downstairs. As annoyed as Alan was, he didn’t force her to leave. With the candles blown out, Tav remained curled-up on her side and blissfully unaware of the world around her. Responsibilities that once shackled her were drowned out, reality but a speck on the horizon. 

Halsin covered her with a blanket before retreating to the steps in the far corner. He sat at an angle where he could see her, foregoing sleep, and did not leave until the hangover roused her.

x

Part 2

[graciegoeskrazy]

75 + teen!musician!reader hc

(3 ppl agreed on this so that’s my sign to do it)

i imagine r is pretty young?

like 16/17 and trying to get ur carear of the ground

after sending multiple demos jamie and matty and dirty hit are interested in signing u

i mean bea was like 19 when she started so y not?

u signs

it feels like a dream come true

from the outside world ur parents seem like the most supportive and loving things ever

but they were mentally abusive pieces of shit!

they knew u we’re talented and know it would pay off one day

but once u sighed with jamie you served them papers

and started to say adios

they faught back

they couldn’t belive this

i gets a call two weeks later that polly has to pull out for family reasons

and matty remembers u saying that she knows every single 75 song

and wants to put that to the test in this time of need

(literally 3 days till the next show)

they fly you out in time to do a singular sound check and go through chords and harmonies back stage

and that’s it! show time! lol!

you tried to hide your personal ‘issues’ from the band

buttttt that didn’t last long because the saw your parents at the front of the security gate demanding to see u

and they were like ‘wut was that’

and ur like ‘idk what ur talking about’

secrets get revealed

and they are even more amazed of how you’ve been handeling these past few months with such GRACE

special bonds r made

and only enforced after satvb ends and u start working on ur album with ross n george