#and Gale looking over them after 7

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |12|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.2k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Tara paced back and forth in the waiting room. She couldn’t believe they wouldn’t let her back there with you, she was your girlfriend after all. She was by your side the entire time, she kept you company until the medics could get to you, she held your hand as they loaded you onto the backboard, she ever rode in the ambulance with you. As soon as they reached the hospital though you were rushed away to be looked at, and Tara was forced to go sit in the waiting room.

Sam, Chad, Mindy, and Ethan had arrived in record time, she didn’t even get to sit down before they were walking through the doors. She was pretty sure Mindy mentioned something about going to check on Anika, Tara wasn’t fully sure though, all she cared about was knowing if you were okay. It seemed like Gale had gotten the worse of the attack but when Tara saw you lying on the floor her heart stopped. Your shirt was covered in blood, whether it was your own or someone else’s Tara still didn’t know, you were incredibly disoriented probably hit your head at some point.

Her imagination was running wild with what possibly had happened in that apartment. Tara tried to warn you, but she barely got the chance before the call disconnected. Her and Sam got there as fast as they could, the lights and siren going, she weaved between cars as if she were in one of those Fast & Furious movies and yet, it still wasn’t enough to save you. When they finally got there Ghostface had already attacked, you and Gale had managed to hold him off, but the apartment was trashed, a shattered window and coffee table, you and Gale laying there, bleeding out. It was a sight Tara never wanted to see.

Tara wondered if that was what it was like for you a year ago. You got to her house as if everything were normal only for your entire world to be turned upside down. You were at Tara’s side when she woke up, the exhaustion clear on your face, truly not knowing if she would survive. This time Tara knew what was going on, she knew what Ghostface was capable of but that didn’t stop the same sinking feeling when she rode the elevator up to Gale’s floor, when the doors opened and she didn’t see you anywhere, just Ghostface standing over Gale, ready to end her.

When Tara got to your side, she was just trying to focus on the fact that you were alive. She had no idea what kind of injuries you suffered, if you needed surgery, if you were in surgery right now fighting for your life. She didn’t know anything because she wasn’t technically family. Tara was forced to stay in the waiting room for just the tiniest bit of information, just like you had a year ago, though she knew you had sheriff Hicks there to help nudge the doctors along and get them to give you a bit of information.

“Please, sit down,” Sam pleaded for probably the hundredth time.

Tara spun around, rapidly tapping her foot. Sam only wanted her to sit down because she hoped it would get Tara to relax, but that wouldn’t be the case. Tara let out a frustrated sigh and dropped down into the chair beside Sam. She crossed her arms, then her legs, then she uncrossed her legs and continued tapping her foot. She gripped the armrests and was about to stand up again when a hand came down atop of hers, keeping her in place. She glared at the hand and followed the arm it was attached to up to Sam’s face. Before Tara could snap at Sam, she saw you walking up to them.

Tara shot out of her seat, easily breaking Sam’s grip and was at your side in half a second. “Are you okay?” Tara asked, already searching you for injuries. Her eye caught the start of some stitches sticking out from the collar of your shirt.

Tara reached up, gently pulling back your collar to see the nasty cut on your shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat, the knife had barely missed your neck, not even an inch over and you would have been dead. Tara snapped back to realty when your hand took hers in your own and brought it back down to your side.

She looked back into your eyes. She caressed your cheek with the hand that wasn’t currently intertwined with yours. You tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. It was like all the light was gone from your eyes. Tara had never seen you like that before, even after everything your eyes always held a certain brightness, like there was still hope, but not this time. After everything you had endured it seemed like this attack just pushed you closer to the edge, like you were on the brink of breaking and Tara didn’t know what to do.

“What did they say?” Tara asked softly.

You shrugged. “I got a concussion,” you whispered, your voice complete devoid of any emotion. “They stitched me up. I’m fine now,” you gave a little shrug as if it were no big deal.

Tara frowned; you weren’t yourself. She knew you shouldn’t be yourself; you went through something traumatic, again, and they still had yet to learn anything about Gale’s status. Tara was at a loss at what to do, you always seemed to know how to comfort her, even when she was pushing you away, and now when you needed her the most, she didn’t know what to do.

Tara did the only thing she could think of, what she generally needed from you when she was in a similar position, she threw her arms around you and pulled you into a hug. Tara squeezed you tighter when you didn’t immediately reciprocate her hug but before she could over think it you hesitantly wrapped one arm around her then the other one.

She slid her hand down but ended up pulling away from you completely when you winced. “What happened?” she asked, looking down at the spot she had touched.

“It’s nothing,” you said but before you could dismiss it further Tara lifted up your shirt, revealing the giant white bandage at your side.

Tara reached out as if she were going to brush her fingers over the bandaged but thought better of it and pulled back. Instead, she brought a hand to her mouth, you had been covered in so much blood, she hadn’t even known about the injury on your side. She didn’t think you were stabbed since it was just a bandage and not stitches but there were already red spots starting to seep through, so she knew it wasn’t nothing.

“They just had to remove some glass,” you explained lightly, as if that would make Tara not worried.

Tara’s eyes flicked back up to yours. There was so much broken glass in the apartment, the window, the coffee table, she didn’t know how any of it happened but now she knew you were injured during one of those instances. If shards of glass had gotten stuck in you that meant you had to have crashed through the glass, or been thrown through it, or fell on it after the fact while fighting or trying to dodge Ghostface. Tara knew that all things considered this was truly a minor injury, but it was your complete dismissal and refusal to acknowledge anything was wrong that was bothering her.

“I just want to sit down,” you said, cutting through Tara’s thoughts. “Just need a bit of rest.” You tried to give her a smile but once again it was clear your heart wasn’t in it.

You stepped past Tara and walked all the way to the end of the room and plopped down in the chair in the corner. Tara frowned; she looked from where she had been sitting next to her sister over to all the empty chairs around you. She had a chair saved for when you were discharged but you didn’t even glance at the others as you passed them.

Tara began chewing on her nail as she hesitantly walked back over to Sam and slowly lowered herself back down onto the chair. You didn’t want to talk about what happened, you didn’t want to talk about your injuries, and you clearly didn’t even want to sit by any of them, even Tara. She couldn’t help the way her eyes glanced over to you every few seconds, but she tried to respect the fact that you clearly wanted space. Whenever she wanted space and you tried to be there for her, she lashed out at you, even when she wanted your comfort she lashed out, she didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and cause you anymore stress. Logically she knew it wasn’t personal, people dealt with things differently, in the past though you had always sought her for comfort.

Time ticked by and you remained where you were. You were hunched over, your head down and your hands clasped tightly together in a fist. You hadn’t moved one bit, even when Chad got up to get a coffee and asked if anyone else needed anything you didn’t react. Tara had practically forgotten about Ghostface, she knew he was the reason they were even there to begin with, but he was nowhere near her priority anymore.

The next thing she knew, someone in a white coat was walking towards them. Tara shot up from her seat the same time as Sam did. Chad and Mindy slowly stood up as well, and even Ethan cautiously stood up from his seat, but you never moved.

Sam cleared her throat, seeming to realize she would be the one doing all the talking. “How is she?” Sam asked, her voice cracking.

Despite all their issues with Gale, especially Sam, they didn’t hate her. None of them ever wanted anything to happen to her. Tara didn’t know what they would do if Gale didn’t make it, she had survived all the previous Ghostface attacks, it was hard to even imagine her not making it through another one. Then there was you, Tara wasn’t sure how you could ever get over this. Even though you and Gale had your problems, she didn’t want you to lose Gale, not after everything you’ve suffered, not after losing Dewey.

Tara glanced back at you, the only indication that you knew what was going on was the slight tilt of your head. You hadn’t gotten up; you hadn’t even bothered to look at the doctor, but you were listening. Tara held her breath and looked back to the doctor, trying to prepare herself for whatever outcome he might bring because the most important thing was her being able to be there for you.

“She’s out of surgery,” the doctor said. Tara swore she could hear everyone let out a relieved breath. “We’re not out of the woods yet though.” Tara sucked in a breath and hesitantly glanced back at you, even though you hadn’t moved she could see how tense you were, your entire body was completely rigid. “We’re hopeful, but she’s in recovery and we’ll closely monitor her and let you know.”

“Can we see her?” Sam asked.

Tara looked up at the doctor hopeful. She wasn’t sure if it would do more harm or good but maybe if you could see Gale, it would offer you some sort of comfort. “Not at the moment.” Tara frowned, maybe it was for the best, maybe seeing Gale like she was now would only cause you more stress. “We can reevaluate tomorrow and see how she’s doing.”

“Thanks,” Sam gave him a grateful smile.

After the doctor left, they all stood around in a circle, their heads hung low. “What now?” Chad asked.

That was the question, as much as they might want to wait around the hospital, they knew they couldn’t. Tara knew all too well that Ghostface wasn’t above attacking a hospital, they couldn’t risk him coming after them with so many innocence around. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to focus on any of that though when you were hurting.

The others conversation slowly faded away as she looked back at you. Tara felt her heart break even more, you had finally moved but this time your head was buried in your hands, like you were doing everything you could to hold yourself together. Tara didn’t think twice before walking over to you, if you really wanted space, you’d send her away.

Tara stood in front of you and rested a hand on the back of your head, trying to coax you to look at her. When you started to lift your head, her hand slid down the back of your neck and began rubbing comforting circles with her thumb. You buried your face into her front and flung your arms around her as you began to sob. Tara wrapped her arms around you as best as she could, pulling you closer and offering all the comfort she could. She didn’t know what the others were planning but one thing she did know was she was going to make Ghostface pay for this.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrryxcx @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

@riyaexee @gayandfairycore

[roguishcat]

Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊

This was supposed to be 500 words. It isn't. Also, it was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted drabble. I have no clue how it turned into angst/comfort. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you will enjoy reading it! ❤️

Day 1 - Strawberries, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

Pairing: the reader (You) x Astarion

Tags: Insecurities, mild angst/comfort, implied nudity

It was yet another boiling hot day and the group was suffering. Having to wear heavy leather armour and full supply packs whilst encountering a veritable cornucopia of monsters certainly did not help their mood.

When you saw the glittering blue thread of the river on the horizon, you felt like falling on your knees and weeping tears of joy. The rest seemed to be just as excited as you at the prospect of washing the grime and dirt off their sweat slicked bodies. Even Lae’zel for once did not complain when Gale tentatively suggested that they continue on in that direction.

Your steps quickened and after another hour you finally felt a cool breeze caress your cheeks. You looked over at your rogue walking a little behind you, the gentle wind teasing his silver curls. Astarion was the least affected by the weather but even he seemed to visibly relax when he realised that they would be stopping shortly.

“Phew, soldier. It is hotter than the hells today. Can’t wait to go for a dip. In fact,” Karlach grinned, “can our leader be persuaded to stay here till tomorrow?”

“Well, it would certainly be good for the morale,” Shadowheart agreed, letting her pack drop with a thud. “I, for one, am not moving anywhere until I wash the viscera out of my hair.”

“Tsk, vanity is a vice, dear,” Astarion teased, moving to set up his tent.

“Says the vainest person in Faerûn and beyond,” Shadowheart shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Most certainly! But you see, it would be a sin against all creatures to deny them the opportunity to gaze in admiration upon my beauty. You agree my sweet, don’t you?” he grinned, looking at you fondly.

“Perhaps, although when it comes to looks, I’m afraid this lot certainly could dethrone you, Astarion. You are an attractive bunch,” you smile at your friends as they prepared to finally, finally enjoy the weather rather than suffer in the heat.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest, but I am just happy that we aren’t getting attacked for once. I am half-expecting something to jump out the bushes at any moment. We need to stay vigilant,” Wyll reminded everyone.

“Argh, monster hunters,” Astarion scoffed, “so paranoid.”

You didn’t hear Wyll’s reply, choosing to step into your tent and begin to shed the layers upon layers that you had on.

As you undressed, you scowled as you uncovered yet another scar. Spells healed cuts and wounds well enough, but unfortunately your body was covered in reminders of battles fought.

You tried not to think about. You had bigger, more urgent matters to attend do. But, as you thought of Astarion’s beautiful, unmarked face, you felt an ugly feeling rise as you thought of how a creature as perfect as your elf would think of you when the adventure would come to its inevitable end.

You knew he was fond of you. Knew that he was grateful for what you did for him. And maybe that would be enough for a while still. But you also were under no illusion about what would happen once it was no longer necessary for your merry little band to stay together. The end of the Absolute would probably mean the end of this alliance. They would all carry on their personal quests, fighting their battles, living their lives. And you would let them go. Let Astarion go too. Because you loved him and realised that there would be nothing worse than deny him the freedom that he so desperately fought for.

You heard splashing and laughter from outside the tent, making you smile. You didn’t feel like joining in, but perhaps you could go for a little swim once everyone settled in for the night. Yes, a midnight dip sounded heavenly.

Hours trickled by and finally everyone bid each other goodnight and soon all was still. You gathered your supplies and put on a thin cotton slip. It was not something that you would usually dare to venture out in, but everyone was clearly resting, so what was the harm?

Quietly, you slipped out and walked barefoot along the shore, careful to avoid the sharper rocks, and made your way away from camp.

As you were about put your things down, you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck rise. Someone or something was watching you.

“Astarion, if you want to catch me unawares, then you shouldn’t have doused yourself in your signature scent. I could smell you before I could hear you,” you turned, your eyes locking with ruby ones.

“Oh, please! I was hardly being subtle,” he took a step towards you, “in fact, I was all but stomping my feet not to startle you.”

“Sure you were,” your lips quirked into a smile and you shivered, suddenly feeling very exposed as he levelled you with an intense, hungry look.

“Any particular reason for you waiting until now to go down to the river, hm? I thought you just couldn’t wait to cool down.”

You gripped the towel tighter, not wanting to talk about your insecurities. As far as everyone was concerned, you were the confident, daring leader. The one who threw yourself headfirst into the epicentre of any battle. And you would rather walk on red-hot coals than admit that you were self-conscious about your body to Astarion, out of all people. Being in a situationship with an impossibly gorgeous vampire did not mean that you felt worthy of being in a relationship with the said mind-numbingly beautiful vampire.

This wasn’t the most exposed you were, you all but shared a tent and were intimate on several occasions. But sex was about being lost in the moment, there was hopefully little opportunity for him to see the full extent of the damage done to your body over the years.

“Darling?”

Your eyes snapped to his fingers as he reached out to cradle your wet face in his hands.

Shit.

Were you crying? You so were not standing near naked in the middle of nowhere with your intoxicatingly beautiful lover and pathetically crying because you felt that you could never, ever hold a candle to him even on your best day. Except apparently, you were.

“I- I’m sorry. I guess the heat got to me. You should go back to camp.”

“I’m staying.”

“No,” you wanted to sound firm, but it came out far less certain than intended.

“Why?”

You pulled on the hem of your slip down subconsciously and looked away. Astarion was quick to catch on. His eyes softened and his hands fell to your shoulders.

“Darling, how many times do I have to tell you how beautiful you are for you to believe it? I can hardly keep away from you.”

“I know. But that’s hardly attraction. I am just, kind of, there. And you are grateful and, I suppose, maybe you-”

He scoffed. “Don’t insult me by insinuating that I have been forcing myself to come to your tent every night for the past several months. You were the first to tell me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And now, I very much want to do this.”

You saw a flash of a blade in your peripheral and then felt the fabric slide down as it fell to the ground. You dropped the folded towel you were still holding in a futile attempt to keep what was left of your clothes on you.

“Perhaps a more hands on demonstration of how I feel about you is in order. Time to be a man of deeds, rather than of words, so to speak.”

His lips found your neck as he threw the dagger on the ground and gripped your waist tight, pulling you closer to his body.

“But my scars-”

“Love, I don’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth unless it is my name, are we clear?”

“But-”

“You told me that my scars don’t define me. That I am more than just my past. It is baffling that you would show endless kindness to anyone but yourself. So let us not waste another moment. No more words.”

You nodded and your eyes fluttered closed, submitting to his eager hands.

“This is what happens when we have no opportunity for taking some time to ourselves. Yet another drawback of staying within earshot of everyone. We are overdue for a little private pool party, hm?” he said, lifting you up and carrying you to the river.

And then Astarion descended onto you, mapping your body with his lips, committing your sighs and moans to memory.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[dekariosclan]

Hi! Apologies if this has already been addressed elsewhere. I do feel like I’ve seen discourse on “flaws” Gale has that could irritate his partner. But I’m curious what your take is on a scenario where Gale does something that makes his partner legitimately angry. What could that something be, and how would Gale react to seeing his partner livid at him? (I’m wondering if there would be two different reactions depending on if Gale agrees he is in the wrong vs. thinking he’s right)

Hope you have a wonderful day! 💜

Ah, lovely Anon! It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and nothing says 💘“True Love”💘 more than loving someone despite their flaws, right?? And yes, even Gale “Pixel Wizard Husband of All Time” Dekarios has some flaws!

I forgive him for each and every one he’s perfect in my eyes

So, I have actually written a *cough* rather lengthy *cough* list of what I believe Gale’s flaws would be as a partner. Please feel free to peruse that, but I MUST warn you—there is a section where Gale will destroy you with his Sad Cow Eyes 🥺, so please be prepared in advance, anon!

But regarding your specific question—which I do cover in the other post, but I’ll expand on here—yes, absolutely, I think Gale would have two very different responses to a fight, depending on whether Tav was the one ‘in the wrong’ or he was.

I talked in a recent post about how Gale, during the early parts of his romance with Tav and before the end of the game, is insecure about Tav loving him. This is because he’s still so insecure about himself. It’s not until the Epilogue that we see how far Gale’s self-esteem has come, now that he’s finally with someone who accepts his love and loves him back 100%. Finally.

So, while I believe arguments would tend to be a rare occurrence between these two lovebirds overall, I think the time when they could begin to happen is after Gale’s marriage/moving in proposal—because now, the relationship is real and secure.

And now that it’s real and secure, I think Gale could definitely let his guard down and mistakenly insert his foot in his mouth.

I mentioned in the ‘Flaws’ post that I think Gale will always have a bit of Pomposity, Messiness, and Fussiness about him. That’s all part of who he is, after all. Plus, he was living alone for over a year—it would naturally take some time for him to get accustomed to living life with a partner 24/7, even if he is overjoyed that they are with him.

I could see Gale growing frustrated with his things being rearranged or moved in his Tower. Why—his books! His (admittedly dusty) scrolls! His poisonous alchemy experiments! Why had Tav moved them off of his dining room table?! It was a perfectly legitimate place for them!

I could see there being a rather heated argument where Gale might come off a bit too arrogant, thinking—no; knowing—that he was in the right, and Tav growing very, very angry in response. So much so that Gale is a bit taken aback.

Seeing Tav livid at him would definitely hurt Gale. But if he was SURE he was in the right and Tav was not, he would be stiffly polite until an appropriate apology was offered. (Then, of course, he would be melting with relief, and, well…rather eager to make up with Tav. Passionately eager, one might say.)

However, in the argument example I gave above—I don’t think it would take Gale too long to realize that he’d been, ah—to put it rather mildly—a complete and utter ass.

I think he’d realize that Tav’s anger at him dictating ‘Rules for the Tower’ was warranted—because it was no longer ‘Gale’s Tower’.

It was their Tower. Their home.

And he would immediately swallow his pride and set out to apologize to his beloved Tav.

***

Now, Anon; I’m going to end this ask here, because I’ve fully explained in the ‘Flaws’ post how Gale reacts when he is in the wrong (and he knows it), and what his apology would look like. Just scroll down a bit until you get to the Cow Eyes—which again, I must stress, you need to get mentally prepared for—and you’ll know you’re in the right spot!

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Masterlist

Hi! I'm Ashl. I write bits of stuff and whatnot. My page is dedicated to all the things currently giving me brain rot so it will be an odd amalgamation of things.

Masterlist 2 as this was getting a bit too large

Gale Dekarious:

Reading By Firelight - Gale watches Tav during their nightly ritual of reading by the campfire, yearning for them.

Caught In The Act - Gale watches you on an evening wondering what it is that your read every night, one day he finds out that you have been reading filthy smut.

Part One, Part Two, Part 3

Sunset Springs - You and Gale head of to the local springs at sunset, whereby you address the budding chemistry that is palpable between you two

Lovers Tragedy - Gale is goes to the netherbrain to follow Mystra's command, whilst the reader pleads for him to reconsider.

Gale Thoughts.

- Blackstaff Academy

Part one, Part Two: Gale Pov part 3, Part 4 , Part 5

So close, yet so far

- Came Back Wrong:

Part 1 ,Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 part 6 , Part 7

Rolan

The Tiefling Wizard - You find Rolan, drunk and after Lorroakan has marked his face, you help him to your room and look after him

Part One, Part 1.5, Part 2, Part 3.

The Wizards Tower - The reader works at Sorcerers Sundries and helps to look after Rolan

Touch Starved Rolan - pretty much what the title says.

Part One, Part Two

Rolan finding our his human crush thinks she hates him.

Rolan apologising and making amends to his crush

Heat Cycle - Rolan is mid heat cycle when you enter his office

Librarian, Part Two - you take a job at Sorcerer's Sundries as librarian and assistant, dreaming about Rolan

Rolan week fics - Day 6: Kiss , Day 7: The Night Before

Lyra - Rolan's new employee - part one

Zevlor

Thoughts about Zevlor

Zevlor's Human S/O asking if she can worship his infernal traits

The Hellrider's Redemption -

Part one, Part Two Part Three Part four part five

Buggy The Clown

Well I Guess I'm A Fool For You:

Part One, Part Two, Part 3, Part 4.

Sailors Folly:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

Eddie Munson

One More Drink - Eddie is in his 40s, reader in their mid 20s. You meet Eddie at a dive bar in town after your date stood you up out of nowhere, you spend the night in Eddie's company until you end up nearly passed out drunk.

A Late Night Session - You were part of the Hellfire crew and had just finished your most recent campaign, Eddie invited you over for the night after the rest of the club had left.

Batttle Aftercare - Eddie, your neighbour, had been brought to you injured, it was up to you to look after him

Summer Heat - You take refuge in the shade of your new trailer, only to notice a new neighbour of yours

Emperor Geta

Treasure - Geta saw you and wanted to make you his precious treasure, adoring your skin with paint so he could see if anybody touched you.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

The Empress - You were just as bloodthirsty as Geta was, a delightful surprise to him

Part One, Part Two, Part Three Part Four

Thoughts on Geta taking his son to watch the games.

- The Making Of an Heir

- Geta's Concubine.

Part one Part Two

Emperor Geta - Castration

Part one

Emperor Caracalla

- Little Dove: Caracalla noticed you in court and wants to make you his, to revere you as his own.

Part one , Part two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five, Part Six

-To Love An Emperor.

Part one Part two Part three Part Four, Part Five

- Being Caracalla's favourite concubine

- Aurelia - an alternate pov from the Geta's Concubine, centred around Aurelia who was summoned for Caracalla

Haarlep:

Anon Asks:

part 1 part 2 part 3

Halsin:

Anon asks:

Part 1, part 2

Harper Geraldus:

Anon ask:

Harper geraldus part 2 smut

Wyll:

Wyll ask about his infernal traits

Tav asking Wyll to teach them dance

Lucinas/Spite

Rook walks into Lucinas' room at night, encountering him and Spite:

Night Of Spite , A Touch Of Spite, An Aftermath of Spite

Dammon:

An anonymous ask about being thankful for Dammon's weapons

You ask Dammon on a date , part 2

Karlach:

Annon ask about confessing love to Karlach

Tav:

Tav meets Durge and brings them back to health

[onyxsboxes]

Stalag AU (BB Buckies)

@hogans-heroes’ last fic (So it goes) as well as our little chat 🥰 reminded me of how we talked about an au of our bb buckies au with @alienoresimagines 😘 a while ago

While the main au is meant to be full of fluff and cute moments between baby buckies, chick and the 100th, the stalag version was more … angsty (too much fluff required angst to balance it out 😉)

In the original au, both Buckies became children (7 and 4), but here it's only Gale.

(also known as How the 100th POWs learn about Gale's very bad childhood)

Gale becomes a 4-year-old child after his fight with Bucky (to make the situation even more angsty).

After the fight, they're directly called away and haven't had time to talk about what just happened, and so neither of them knows how the fight affected the other.

You can imagine everyone's surprise when the next day, instead of their Major Cleven, they find a young child hiding under the covers, tears in his eyes.

After a moment of panic because “how did a child get in here?”, “what are they going to do? ”, “and... and... and....”, Bucky approaches and asks him his name.

The answer is a shy little “My name is Gale 🥺”

It only takes 30 seconds for everyone in the barracks to adopt him on the spot (it could have taken less time, but they blue-screened at the information)

After that, you've got a baby!Gale who imprints on Bucky like a duckling and follows him around, stars in his eyes and all shy.

Baby!Gale who sees Bucky's broken nose and shyly asks him with his cute kitten eyes if Bucky “wants him to kiss it better? because Marge's mom says it makes everything better”

Mainly, it's about baby!Gale, who's good as gold all day, never complains and helps everyone (4 dead and 10 injured with his cute little face).

That's the fluff, now let's move on to the angst

Even if they think it's cute and are happy baby!Gale doesn't misbehave (especially in the stalag), there's also something rather unsettling about it

Baby!Gale is too well-behaved. He doesn't cry (too much) or make a scene when he's handed over to strangers (and they're aware that they don't look the most welcoming in this situation and would normally make kids cry more than they'd make them want to be around them, they're POWs, for heaven's sake). He didn't say anything about waking up in an unfamiliar place. He didn't cry at all. Oh yes, he had tears in his eyes, but he didn't scream or make a scene. He didn't say anything about the lack of food or the cold. There's something wrong with how he behaves

At the end of the day, when Gale has been sweet and helpful all day, they ask him if he wants a little something. They expected him to ask for some chocolate (they don't have any but will have negotiated it with another bunkhouse) or the small meatball figurine (the one he spent all day looking at) like kid would normally do.

But instead he asked quite shyly as if expecting to hear them laugh and say no, if his Bucky can hold his hand (or if Gale can sit on his lap) 🥺

And Bucky makes sure to show him that it's not a problem at all and uses it as an excuse to always have him in his lap. The others don't know who likes it more (the answer is both 🤭🥰).

TW: child abuse

****

With Gale's dad being a bad parent and gambling a lot (in this au), it goes like this:

Just before going to sleep Buck asks Bucky, “How much did he sell me?”.

Bucky, completely lost, asks what Buck is talking about.

“Dad, he always said he'd sell me if I didn't behave...” he pauses before adding “but that's okay, I'd rather be with you Bucky”

While Bucky is completely shocked, doesn't know how to react or say and tries with all his might not to burst into tears.

Which also made everyone realize why Gale wasn't all that shocked to wake up surrounded by strangers (and it made everyone cry)

****

Baby!Gale dreaming of his adult life (and his fight with Bucky) 😭

“Are you mad at me Bucky?”

“Oh, baby, I could never be mad at you, why did you say that?”

“In my dream, you were angry and I hit you and I'm sorryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. I didn't mean to 😭😭😭” and Buck bursts into tears.

“Oh, no, no, no sweetie, I promise I'm not mad at you. I'm sorry if I scared you, baby. Come here.”

As they curl up on Bucky's bunk, baby!Buck carefully protected in his arms, Bucky can't help but think that he's never felt more alive in the last few months than during the last days when baby!Gale was looking at him as if he'd hung the stars.

After a moment, Gale softly adds “but it still hurts” and Bucky freezes and starts to panic because what does Gale mean when he says it still hurts? It shouldn't hurt because Buck isn't hurt, right? Bucky'd know if he was, right?

“Where does it hurt, Buck?”

“Here,” and when Bucky looks, he finds a big bruise on Buck's torso/ribs (and some others because of POW's life).

“Since when did it hurts baby?”

“When I arrived.” And that's when Bucky realizes that their fight has left more marks than he thought.

“Oh, Buck baby, why didn't you say something?”

“Daddy doesn't like when I complain.”

The whole bunkhouse tries to hold back their tears and fails miserably when they overhear the Buckies' conversation.

Bucky trying really hard to be strong for his little Buck when he doesn't know whether he wants to scream, hit someone or lock Buck up to protect him from all possible evils (in the end, he decides to hold him tight and carefully).

Also the stress of hiding baby!Buck from the guards (their little sunshine in need of comfort 🥹).

And for extra angst, if the de-ageing is caused by a lot of stress, Bucky would feel so guilty because it means Gale was suffering and he didn't see anything 😭😭😭😭

If you've been through the angst, here's a little more fluff for you

Baby!Buck beaming every time he's called Buck because it's like his Bucky 🥰

Can you imagine how many times the adults had to turn around to calm down after Buck did something because "he was so damn cute"? So many cuteness agressions

[sankttealeaf]

unlocked

pairing ; astarion x (rogue) gender neutral!reader

summary ; a few failed attempts at picking a lock causes you more than enough embarrassment for you, yet Astarion finds it highly amusing.

other info ; based on a true story where my Tav failed 4 times to unlock a door and after switching to Astarion, he does it first try >:( Tav even had a guaranteed 7~11 bonus too. set in act one just as you get into the Underdark. first time writing for him be gentle please :')

warnings ; swearing, a kiss, and suggestive themes in this but nothing too wild!

word count ; 4.1k

The journey down into the Underdark had been tiresome. A few goblins remained at the camp that were hungry for a fight and after spending way too long trying to solve the puzzle in the temple, you were ready to rest. The outpost you found yourself at seemed to be a safe place to set up camp - tall stone walls, a portcullis with a lever on the inside, and whatever those beams of light were that incinerated an angry looking minotaur moments ago. Yes, it would be safer inside here. Everyone else seemed to think so, too.

Gale, Wyll and Karlach began the very important task of searching through the old crates and boxes to check for any edible food, while Shadowheart and Lae'zel took opposite ends to look for anything important that could aid you in your journey - notes, books, signs of life nearby. You decided to check for traps, not entirely trusting that this outpost was as safe as it seemed. It made sense to ask Astarion to join you, the ongoing joke about the two rogues being tasked to scout out everywhere before settling down repeating in your mind, but when you turned to ask for him you found that he was no longer standing behind you. No matter, you thought. You had enough trap disarming kits and lockpicks to keep you company.

The room to your left was bare, with only a few rotted crates and furniture that had seen better days. Lots of moon iconography too, though that was to be expected considering this was an outpost for Selûne. Part of you wanted to go check on Shadowheart and get her opinion on this place - for no reason other than pure curiosity. 

You stuck your head out of the room to check to make sure no one had gotten injured or found anything of note down in the main room. Karlach had moved on from checking boxes and was now assessing a few weapons she had found, calling over Lae'zel to check them out as well. Shadowheart stood in front of the large statue, a frown on her face. You couldn't work out what she was thinking and the gentle pressure of your tadpole behind your eye reminded you that you weren't going to know. Not until you asked her in person. 

You then spotted Astarion, ever helpful when it came to readying the new spot for camp. He perched on an old granite bench, lazily flipping through a book he had found. You were slightly irked that his attention was elsewhere but it meant that if you found anything interesting around you had first dibs. Darting across the walkway you approach the other gate. This one was locked, rusted and old. 

A locked door couldn't keep you out.

You crouched to eye level with the lock, hands instinctively finding where you kept your lockpicks. It should be simple enough - you could pick locks in your sleep. The appearance of the lock was what concerned you, though. Rust had built up over the long years of abandonment and it could prove deadly for your picks if you weren’t careful. 

Slowly as to not jam the lock, you began the intricate process of inserting in a pin, moving, waiting, listening for a click. The sound of the pins grinding against iron made you frown, pausing in your attempt to make sure nothing was breaking. With your picks intact, you continued turning.

A loud gasp caused you to flinch, breaking your steady grasp on your picks and hearing the dreaded 'snap' of metal. Shit.

You turned to see what the commotion was - Gale and Wyll stood around an old, rotted burlap sack, a handful of mouldy vegetables laying at their feet. Shadowheart approached them and you heard Gale explaining how an infestation of bugs were eating at an old carrot and it spooked them. 

You rolled your eyes at the situation, trying to get back into the groove of it. Breaking a lockpick was bound to happen, it wasn’t that big of a deal. You pull out another pick, ready to try again. Sometimes locks were easy. Sometimes they were bastards to crack. This one was proving to be a pain in your ass as you heard the familiar sound of metal snapping again.

“Shit.” The tip of the pick had broken off and you were now down another. Best of three, you told yourself as you took out another lockpick and hoped to anything that was watching you that this would be the final attempt. 

There was an uncomfortable wriggling sensation behind your eye for a moment as you lost focus, the sudden shift in movement from your tadpole causing your guard to go up. And for another one of your lockpicks to break. You’re blaming the tadpole for that one.

"I thought you said you were good at this?" Astarion's voice carried as you turned to look at him, not appreciating how now everyone knew you were failing at the one thing you were around for. It was just a bad streak of luck! The next attempt will be it, you could feel it.

You looked back at the lock. "I am." The scattered remains of old lockpicks said otherwise.

"That's the third lockpick you've broken. I'm starting to wonder if you even know what you're doing." He crouched beside you, a grin on his face. "Perhaps you should leave it to the professionals in future."

You grit your teeth at his comment, pulling out another pick for your fourth attempt. Growing up with dexterous hands and a knack for getting into places you weren't supposed to had prepared you for moments like this. Yet the one time you wanted a quick break the universe cursed you. Maybe it was Selûne looking down and preventing you from entering this room. Had you not wished to be smited by the God in a place dedicated to her you would show her a rather rude gesture right now. If your hands weren't full you would show it to Astarion, too.

The tension wrench felt heavy in your hand as you removed it from the lock, rolling your shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. Astarion hadn't moved, instead taking great joy at seeing you mess up a task you had bragged about being so good at many times before. This wasn't like you. You were quick to blame it on how tired you were feeling. That was it - you were tired. Tiredness, tadpoles, bugs. All excuses no one would believe. And now with Astarion looming over your shoulder watching you as you gently twisted the pick to position, you were determined to not mess this one up.

Your heart pounded in your chest, soon the only thing you could hear as you tried to keep focused on listening for the click of the lock unlocking. 

“Are you actually moving it? Or are you hoping it will do the work for you?” Astarion asked, breaking your concentration.

"Be quiet." You shifted in your position and very slowly tilted your hand to the left. Nothing. No click of it opening and no snapping of the pick breaking. It was slow progress, but good progress. The pick was still intact - that’s all you cared about.

You could hear the smug smile as Astarion spoke up again, "All I’m saying is that it’s certainly a choice you're making."

"Hush." You twist it to the right. Still nothing. Maybe it wasn’t you, maybe the lock was the problem? It had to be, you were doing everything right!

“Have you tried--”

Snap. 

You took in a deep breath, eyes closed to hold in your frustration at this stupid lock and its stupid inability to open. Was this how Karlach felt before she raged? Maybe you should ask her about it. Once you were calmer, of course. Right now you just wanted to get into this room and find something good and then go to sleep. Gods, you needed some sleep.

“What a shame. Bested by a rusty lock.” Astarion shook his head in feign sorrow, hand over his heart. “How ever are we to move on from this? Whatever shall we do?”

“I don’t see you making an attempt at it,” you mumbled, standing upright and giving the lock a glare as if that would shatter it.

He smiled, head tilted and arms folded. “But it’s already in such capable hands.”

“Do you want to try?” You gestured to the lock, knowing you only had one set of lockpicks left and that he most definitely had a few tucked away in his own bag somewhere. There was a time where you had a slight disagreement over who would be the designated lockpicker but it was decided you would alternate. Or it would be down to whoever found the lock - whichever was first.

“Are you asking for help?” he asked. 

"No, I'm offering for you to have a go."

“So you are asking for help.” 

You clenched your teeth, avoiding eye contact with him as you willed everything inside of you to utter the words he so desperately wanted to hear. “Will you help me with this lock?”

He held a hand up to his ear and you shook your head, refusing to indulge in this ridiculous game he was attempting to play. “Did you say something, my dear?” he asked, grinning as you crossed your arms over your chest and sighed deeply.

“Astarion, my dear, dear friend. Would you please do me the honours of helping me with this lock, for I simply cannot open it without you,” you deadpanned, though it seemed to be enough for him.

“Of course I’ll help. You only had to ask,” he replied with a gentle applause. “We’ll make an actor out of you yet!” He waved for you to step aside from the door, lockpicks in hand as he stood where you once were and assessed the situation. “I hope you’re taking notes.”

You watched as he got to work, crouching beside him like he did with you as he repeated the actions you were doing moments ago. He wasn’t doing anything different, in fact you noticed he was copying what he saw you doing on your third attempt. You waited for the snapping of metal, but it never came. He furrowed his brows as he leaned closer to the lock, and with one final twist you heard the sound of it unlocking. The lock hung loosely on the gate.

"Was that meant to be difficult?" He stood as the lock then fell to the floor, tucking his lockpicks away in a quick motion. “Honestly, if you wanted me to help you from the start you should’ve said something.” 

You stood quickly, bewildered at how easy he made it look. The gate groaned loudly as he pushed it open, giving a grand gesture for you to enter first followed by a wink. If it weren't for the smug look on his face you would have thanked him for it; instead you sulked past him, irritated that he now had something to hang over your head for the next few hours. It was something you noticed he did early on, whether it was because you both had roguish tendencies and there was an unspoken competition between you both, or perhaps he enjoyed being better at something you wanted to do. Either way, you were not about to live this down anytime soon.

The room, now that you were inside, lacked  anything interesting in it. A locked door always meant something good was behind it but the more you searched the less you found. Rotten food, old clothes, an old book with pages lost to time. The failed attempts at getting here hardly seemed worth it now. You lit the candles as you went, the warmth from the light putting you at ease. Everything felt a little safer now that you could see. Astarion lingered by the doorway, peering to his right to see what was inside an old crate.

“All that effort for some rotten food…” He nudged a piece of rubble with his foot and you turned, giving him a look.

“At least I was looking around for things,” you said. It was no secret that Astarion found setting up and taking down camp a tedious task - it was no one's preferred job to do but everyone had their role. You had found him on several occasions sweet talking Wyll or Karlach into doing all his heavy lifting, and there was one time you were swept up under his charm and ended up doing his washing up for him. There was one theory that was stuck in your head that he did it because he knew it got under your skin. He had made many comments about how amusing it was to see you irritated at something. 

“And you found a room with nothing in it.” He huffed quietly and you turned your back to him to continue your search. There had to be something, why else would this room be locked?

You were about to give up and accept your loss when something caught your eye. Sitting atop a small alcove in the far end of the room was an ornate chest with delicate gold details engraved onto a dark wood. You noticed a keyhole but no key nearby. Of course it's most likely locked. Selûne must be having a field day watching you fail to rob her acolytes of anything worthy.

You caught Astarion's gaze as you moved with a speed only reserved for combat, heading towards the chest. When the lid of the chest didn't move when you tried to lift it up, you grinned. Now was your time to prove yourself. Not that you needed to prove yourself to anyone, especially Astarion, but the irritation of failure was eating away inside of you and you needed to show him you could do the one thing you thought you were good at. 

No. You knew you were good at this. 

"Are you sure you have it in you, darling?" His voice was low as he approached behind you, looking at the chest. “I would hate for you to break another set of picks.”

You had one set left that was intact. Who knew when you would be able to find another? The odds weren’t stacked in your favour. It was painful for you to do this. You picked up your pride and turned to face Astarion, the smile on his face only added fuel to the fire but you refused to stoop to his level. With a forced politeness you stepped aside, allowing him direct access to the chest.

"By all means, be my guest." You gestured to the lock as he approached, lockpicks in hand again.

"I'm always around for private lessons if you ever need a refresher on how to do this. You'll find I am very good with my hands," he said, repeating a similar motion to what he did at the gate. Your cheeks flushed at the comment and you forced away any images of what a private lesson on lockpicking would look like. For some reason you didn't think there would be much lockpicking involved.

“It’s just a bad streak. I’ll be back on my game in no time,” you mumbled as he hummed in response, pausing to look up at you. “And then you can go back to looking pretty while I do all the hard work.”

“Looking pretty is hard work. Someone has to do it.” He gave you a grin, going back to twisting the picks in different directions to see which would work. You watched him work, eyes darting from his hands to his face and then settling on staring directly at the keyhole. It felt rather intimate to watch him so closely, the way his brows creased in focus or how his head tilted to hear better. Nimble fingers made quick work of the lock, the satisfying click being music to both of your ears.

You were quick to lift open the lid before he could, having been the one to find this after all. Inside was a coin pouch, a few spell scrolls and a couple of gems that looked like they could be worth a lot. Was it worth all the effort? You were hoping for something incredible, but it was better than nothing. Reaching for the coin pouch your hand collided with Astarion’s, who had a similar idea to you.

“Now then, it’s only fair that I take a higher cut. After all I did most of the work here,” he said, taking a hold of your wrist to push your hand away. The cold touch caught you off guard, and though there wasn’t any hostility behind it you wondered what lengths he would go to to get a bigger share of the loot.

You frowned at him, twisting your arm out of his grip in a quick motion. “I found the godsdamn thing! It’s not my fault I had issues with the lock.” Glancing quickly back at the coin pouch, you decided to make another grab for it. Astarion had the same idea - rogues always seemed to think alike, you thought - as you both lunged for the leather pouch. Hands pushed hands away and shoulders tried to push each other away from the chest. A rather strong shove from you caused the chest to fall to the floor with a large clatter, the contents of it spilling out onto the floor in front of you. The shove had also caused Astarion to lose his balance, grabbing onto you as he tumbled backwards to the ground bringing you with him. 

You landed on top of him, hitting your head against his shoulder with an uncomfortable groan. The coin pouch had fallen behind where Astarion laid and the spell scrolls fell out and landed elsewhere. There was a moment of silence as you sat up, the positioning of you both causing your cheeks to warm up in embarrassment. 

"If this was your plan all along it would have been easier for you to simply say so," he said, leaning on his elbows once you had moved.

"You think I fucked up picking a lock just to try and get us into a compromising position?" you laughed, though it certainly looked that way to an outsider. Astarion sat upright, the both of you now almost flush with each other. You felt his hands rest gently on your hips, fingers digging in ever so slightly. 

"Are you certain you don't want me to refresh your memory on the art of lockpicking?" he asked, a hand running up your side. "I'm a very good teacher."

You tried to keep your thoughts from wandering. It was proving difficult as you kept Astarion's gaze, his eyes moving from your own to your lips and back. "I think I'll pass for now. I'm normally good at it, you know this."

"Yet here I am, saving the day," he said with a grin, the annoyed look on your face only adding to his enjoyment at this moment. His hand brushed against your cheek, moving down to lift your chin up slightly. There was something different about all this yet you couldn't place your finger on what it was.

"My hero. However can I repay you?" you asked, not sounding at all interested in repaying him for helping. His eyes looked over your neck, and if you were going to repay him, at least it could be something you had done before. "Did you want to…?" You exposed your neck to him. It came as a shock to you when he shook his head.

"Later, perhaps. I would hate to use up all our fun here and now," he replied, running a finger down the main vein in your neck, the touch barely there. His hand continued downward, stopping at your chest. In another strange shock he laid it atop of your heart as you felt it quicken. It made sense why he would want to feel it, you supposed, but given the circumstances it did throw you off guard.

You placed your hand atop his, feeling the coolness of his skin against yours. The sounds of the others melted away until it felt like it was just you both in the room, hands on top of each other, listening to the rhythm of your heart beat. You wondered what he was thinking as you studied his face, trying to get a hint of his thoughts. His eyes were focused on your hand, and only when you shifted slightly did he blink and look up at you. 

"Alright?" you asked softly, giving his hand a very gentle squeeze.

"Perfect," he muttered in response, pulling at the top of your shirt to bring you closer to him. 

"This isn't going to give you a bigger cut, you know," you mumbled when you felt your nose bump against his. How quickly things changed between you, you thought. Somehow you always found yourself here, like this, with him. It was like some force was pulling you towards him constantly.

He smiled at you. "Ah, a shame. You foiled my plan." In one quick move, he closed the gap between you both. The kiss was unexpectedly soft, especially given the circumstances. Your hands rested on his chest and you felt one of his arms loop around your lower back, pulling you closer towards him. It was nothing like the hunger and desire you felt all those nights ago after the party. This was gentle. Delicate. Like one wrong move could break you both, the same way you had broken many lockpicks moments before. It was everything you didn't expect to feel when kissing Astarion, and you wondered why. He pulled you flush against him, your hands tangled in his hair and savouring the moment. He removed his right hand from you to prop himself upright, the other staying at the small of your back, keeping you in place. The moment was perfect; nothing could break it.

"Food is ready!" Gale's voice appeared in your mind, arcane echoes lingering behind as you recognized the use of the message spell. At least he didn't yell it out loud and gave away your location, you thought. You pulled away from Astarion, his face contorting into a look of annoyance as you assumed he got a similar message in his mind as well.

"I'd prefer it if we didn't hear the others in our heads when we do this," he complained as you climbed off of him quickly, not wanting anyone to catch you like this.

"Could've been worse. Could've used the tadpoles to tell us," you said, pushing yourself up to your feet and holding a hand out for Astarion to take.

"He would have been met with some rather…" he paused to look you up and down with a grin, "interesting images then." He took hold of your hand as you helped him up and didn't let go for a little longer than normal. You shot him a playful glare, letting go of his hand as you began to collect up the loot that had fallen on the floor.

As you picked up the final spell scroll, you noticed a lack of coin pouch. With a frown you turned to Astarion to ask him if he had seen it. He held it in his hand, counting out coins in the other. That bastard.

"How did you…" You approached him slowly.

He paused in the counting and grinned. "You're easily distracted." 

"You know what? Take it. You deserve it at this point, with all the picking locks and distracting me," you said, waving him off. It was annoying but there wasn't much you could do at this point. You'd take the gems and hoped they would sell well. Once you had gathered everything up, you gave Astarion one last look. He held out the pouch for you. 

"Your cut."

"Thanks…?" You blinked, and when he didn't elaborate you took it from him slowly, waiting for there to be a hidden meaning behind it. Your fingers brushed against his as you pocketed the money quickly, ignoring the feeling of warmth in your chest at the touch. There was a moment where neither of you moved, unspoken words left lingering in the air as you thought through what to say. After everything that happened between you both you could never find the right words to speak after a moment like this. Instead, you gave him a nod and left the room, heading back downstairs to the others.

Camp was slowly being set up. Most people had their tents sorted and Gale was serving up food, explaining in depth to Wyll what he had done with the supplies that were given to him. You placed the loot on one of the granite benches for the others to sort through later, spotting Astarion joining the group when you turned back.

He gave you a soft smile, and you smiled back. 

[nebulablakemurphy]

Moves & Countermoves (Part 21)

Summary: No one ever wins the games, even fourteen years later, Y/N is still playing.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

They try something new, in the form of Prim visiting Peeta with Y/N. Katniss and Haymitch watching from the viewing window. Things are going well…until they’re not. The news of Peeta’s family sends him spiraling. Yelling and cursing Katniss, saying it’s her fault that Snow bombed twelve. That she’s a threat. Telling Prim to kill her.

“Peeta, what you’re saying isn’t real.” Prim says, in a whisper. Withdrawing from the edge of his bed.

“She’s a monster, Prim!” Peeta insists, the angry vein pulsing in his neck.

“Peeta,” Y/N calls his attention back to her. “You’re safe. No one is going to hurt you, I’m here.”

“She’ll kill you too. She’ll kill all of us. She’s a mutt, the Capitol created to destroy us!”

Nothing settles him after that. The doctor has to use a tranquilizer for the first time in days.

Y/N excuses herself to the opposite side of the viewing glass. Catching Katniss’ gaze, holding it as she moves closer. “It’s good to see you up and about. How are you feeling?”

Katniss says nothing, catapulting herself into her mentor’s arms.

“I’m here,” Y/N assures her. “I’ll be here.”

————————————————————————

Haymitch escorts Katniss’ to the Nut in District Two. Y/N hangs back in Thirteen, with the kids and Peeta. Cashmere is sent to stand in for her best friend, which Katniss seems to appreciate, allowing her to weigh in on dialogue for the propo to sway the loyalists.

“Plutarch wrote a speech for you.” Haymitch tells Katniss, as they get into place near the tunnel left for civilians to escape, after the bombs were launched to bury the Nut and all the weapons inside.

The suggestion was Gale’s.

“Killing isn’t personal, Katniss. I figured you of all people would understand that.”

That’s what he told her the night before. Only she doesn’t agree, “killing is always personal.”

Cashmere takes the paper from his hands, reading it thoroughly. “She’s not saying this, they’ll tear her apart.”

“I never said it was a good speech,” Haymitch fires back. “Look, Katniss, you have to remember that you’re talking to everyone. Not just the people in the districts, but the Capitol, survivors from Two. You want them to lay their weapons down, so you might want to experiment with a little sensitivity.”

Katniss nods, though it isn’t her strong suit. “This is Katniss Everdeen, speaking to all the loyalists, from the heart of District Two-”

She is cut short by the train behind her, screeching to a halt.

Boggs wants to get her back, away from the tracks and the people who will soon emerge. But Katniss will hear none of it, especially after shots are fired. Ending up with a bullet in her own gear and unconscious all the way back to Thirteen.

Y/N finds them upon return. “What happened?” She asks Haymitch.

“Bruised ribs, bruised lung.” Haymitch runs a hand over his face. “It’s my fault. Shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Haymitch, you know there’s no way we could’ve stopped her.” Y/N sighs.

“No, but she’s more likely to listen to you than me.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Y/N swallows.

“How are things? How are the kids?”

“They’re good, they missed you though.” I missed you.

“And Peeta?”

“They showed him the propo, he has real memories of Katniss.” The one’s the Capitol couldn’t taint because they didn’t own them. “He wants to see her.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” Haymitch wonders, feeling his wife reach for his hand.

“I know he’s in there. We can’t give up, there has to be a way.”

“No one’s giving up,” Haymitch assures her. “When Katniss is cleared to leave medical, we’ll ask her to see him. Tell her that he wants to see her. I think that’s progress in itself.”

“Yeah,” Y/N nods.

“Come ‘ere.” Haymitch pulls her against his chest, pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “We didn’t come this far, just to come this far.”

Again she nods, fisting the fabric of his uniform in her hands. Somehow he makes it hurt less.

No one could carry this burden alone, instead they learned to shoulder it together. To trade off when the other was weak, they learned to be two halves of a whole. Trying to pull away from that now seems impossible; excruciating at the very least.

Only when she is there, resting safely against his beating heart, Haymitch can breathe again. “I love you, Y/N.” More than you will ever know.

“I love you too.”

————————————————————————

Days pass, Finnick and Annie get married. It’s beautiful, everything they deserve. They’re glowing; so in love.

Daisy squeals her distaste during the ceremony, until Y/N manages to quiet her with milk.

“I hear ya, kid.” Johanna adds, under her breath.

At the reception everyone dances. Not Johanna. She doesn’t understand how these people can prance around while the world is going to shit. Brooding until little hands pull her to the dance floor. Everest and Arista Abernathy always do get the best of her. Just like everyone else, she was begrudgingly wrapped around their fingers from the day they met..

“Let me go.” Johanna finally demands, with a smile.

Cashmere is their next victim, any and all bystanders are fair game.

Katniss narrowly escapes; finding Johanna among the crowd.

“You saw Peeta, didn’t you?” The victor of District Seven asks. “Did you tell him hi for me? We’re old friends, you know. We had adjoining cells in the Capitol, we’re very familiar with each other’s screams.”

“I’m going to kill Snow.” Katniss says; her tone is cool, calculated. Watching Prim take Daisy from Y/N, so she too can join the crowd. She knows that if she dies, to end all of this, it will be worth it. Prim will have her mother and her former mentors to get her through. She would be taken care of. “Nothing good is safe while he’s alive, and I can’t make another speech about it. No more cameras, no more propos, no more games. He needs to see my eyes when I kill him.”

Johanna’s scowl tips up into a grin, “now you’re talking.”

“I need to find a way to the Capitol while everyone is looking the other way.”

“I hear the medics talking, they’re shipping supplies to the front lines from hanger two, around midnight tonight. Medicine, painkillers, I was gonna go steal some for myself, but I guess I could just stay here and cover for you.” Johanna turns to looks at her dead in the eyes. “Anyone can kill anyone, Katniss. Even a president. You just have to be willing to sacrifice yourself.”

————————————————————————

When Katniss disappears that night and crops up later with troops in the Capitol, Haymitch wishes he could say he’s surprised. But Katniss is who she is and he expects nothing less.

Coin can’t bring her back now. Instead she shoots for plan B, deploying the ‘star squad’ to join her. “It’ll be perfectly safe, you’ll be days behind the main troops. This is just to rally continued support and to document our journey to victory, spearheaded by familiar faces. I’d greatly appreciate if one or both of you could be there. Peeta is being deployed soon as well.”

“Peeta?” Y/N stammers, “Peeta can’t be anywhere near Katniss, let alone a war zone. There are too many triggers.”

“Dr. Aurelius has assured me that you’ve made leaps and bounds together, aiding in Peeta’s recovery. I’m sure that he would benefit from having you there.” President Coin gives Y/N a pointed look.

“I need to discuss this with Haymitch, in private.” Y/N insists, before her husband has a chance to wring the other woman’s necklace.

“Of course.” Alma nods, “I hate to spring this on you, but we are pressed for time. I’ll need your answer by tonight.”

Part 22

Series Taglist: @praline357 @flowercrowns-goodvibes @justheretoparty420 @avocadotoastwithegg @treehouse-mouse @emo-markie @spilled-mi1k @magical-spit @greaser9902 @jessicamellarky @yourebuckingkiddingme @smuha2004 @sendhelplease @ninimackbrews @wittiestrain184 @r1dd1kulus @erenluvr69 @helpimhyperfixating @jackierose902109 @jellybear455 @dreammgc @dadbodfanatic-x @ftdtcmlovr @inky-sun @ms-brek-ker @undercover55655 @mischiefmanaged21 @avoxrising @koiphisch @drwho-ess @daisydaisybilly @misfits1a @nj01 @eruannaaa-blog

[son1c]

What happens to all your sonic prime ocs at the end?

i feel like i've answered this before... but when i looked, i couldn't find the ask i was thinking of... so maybe i just made that up. oh, well.

prism dies. you knew this already. android prism does not die. though, nine really wants to kill him for awhile there. but he finds he can't--or, more accurately, won't--do it. :)

bullet is freed from his full-time-no-benefits-basically-just-imprisonment "job" working for the chaos council. the flickies are ok. he succeeded in protecting them. now he gets to enjoy their company and his life without the threat of imminent destruction weighing over him 24/7.

halcyon joins the megaflora hive. by choice. they come to understand each other, and their endless cycle of violence comes to an end. no one needs to die. the plants, scavengers, and refugee citizens of the space colony ARK can all live together in harmony, because the megaflora and halcyon are greater than their original purposes, and they can forge their own paths. together. it's quite beautiful imo...

windthrow has to say goodbye to his father figure, ""eggman,"" but he has the scavengers and halcyon now. he'll be alright.

bermuda gives up his grudge against the surface dwellers... for the most part. he's no longer actively trying to kill them at every moment, at least. so, what's left for him? he isolates himself for a while after the events of the show, sad in spite of himself that the first person who managed to gain his trust since the ARK incident--prime sonic--is gone, but there's always unfinished business in the sonic universe, and the final hazard looms for the world of No Place, necessitating the teamwork of him and his... bitter?... enemy, gale.

gale suffers for awhileee due to losing the chaos emeralds. after being fused with them for his whole life, their sudden absence makes him feel weak and disoriented. to make matters worse, bermuda's siren song--which he had previously been immune to thanks to the emeralds' protection--suddenly compels him. but bermuda is just as shocked as gale when he appears before him one stormy night, and quickly deems it an unfair advantage. though, it was certainly tempting to drag him under... bermuda just lets gale go, much to gale's confusion. what can i say? maybe there's some of lancelot's honor in bermuda after all.

regardless, gale continues adventuring like he always has.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |6|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Killing and Death

Word Count: 4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Almost as soon as Sam stepped outside, she was bombarded with reporters. She was thankful that she didn’t see Tara around, that meant Kirby got her out of there without getting hounded by the media. Sam tried ignoring the cameras and microphones being shoved in her face as she pushed through the crowd. Everyone was screaming questions at her, asking if Ghostface was back, if she was a suspect, who this new Ghostface was, if the killings were connected to her, if this was all because of her father.

Sam kept her head down, focusing on the concrete and not on the dozens of people crowding her. She was about to crack when she felt a strong-arm wrap around her, the grip tightened as they pushed through the crowd. She turned to see you, staring straight ahead, your arm that wasn’t around her was stretched out, keeping the reporters at bay. Sam couldn’t help but let out a relieved breath when the two of you finally broke free of the crowd and she could see the road and a taxi already sitting there.

She nearly sprinted to the taxi and opened the door without bothering to look back at the reporters, she learned quickly it was best to ignore them. “Gale Weathers,” Sam heard a voice say. She didn’t bother holding in her groan as she gripped the door to the cab tighter. “Channel Four.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Sam asked, whipping around and glaring at Gale.

Gale just laughed at her making Sam frown and only glare at her harder. “Do you think Ghostface is going to go after others since he failed to get you?” Gale held the mic out to Sam.

Sam scoffed, shaking her head, Gale sure had a lot of nerve. Gale knew better than anyone that Ghostface didn’t go attacking random people, not unless they were in the way, every victim was intentional. “No comment,” Sam said harshly.

“What about you, hero,” Gale redirected her attention to you. “Do you think saving Samantha Carpenter’s life has made you a target now?”

You just stared at Gale, it didn’t look like you had been phased at all by her questioning or by anything that was going on at the moment. “She said no comment,” you said. You stared Gale down then flicked a glare at her camera man before turning back to Sam.

Sam didn’t realize she was still staring at you in awe until you pushed the car door open a little more and gave her a nod. Sam looked down, trying to cover the blush she was sure was on her face before quickly jumping in the cab. You were right behind her, slamming the door shut and giving one final glare to Gale and the rest of the reporters.

You gave the taxi driver your address and then the two of you sat in silence. There were a million things going through Sam’s head, she had so many things she wanted to say to you, and she didn’t know where to start. She needed to apologize, she needed to thank you, she needed to explain herself, then on top of all that, she had all these questions that she had no right to ask. You had seemed completely comfortable with jumping into fight Ghostface, you didn’t hesitate in any of your movements, and every time you slashed the knife it was with the intent to kill, even after getting stabbed you still swiped the knife at Ghostface. On top of all that, you didn’t seem too affected by being stabbed, you had other scarring all over your body, and Kirby had called you sergeant. Sam wasn’t sure if you were in the military or law enforcement or what, but it was clear you had training.

“Sorry about the cab,” you said, breaking the silence and Sam’s thoughts about what to say to you. “My Jeep is still at my house.”

“It’s-It’s fine,” Sam brushed it off, looking at you. “And if anything, you shouldn’t be apologizing, when I should be thanking you.” You turned your head, finally meeting Sam’s eyes for the first time since leaving the station. “So, thank you.”

You gave a little shrug. “It was nothing, really.”

“But it was, odds are you’re now a target all because you saved me.” Sam ignored the glance from the cab driver in his rearview mirror.

“And I would do it again.” There was no hesitation in your voice. Sam couldn’t decide if this really was nothing for you, if you truly weren’t concerned about any of it, or if you didn’t know anything. “I don’t run from danger.”

“So, you just run to it?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You silently chuckled and Sam couldn’t help but give a little smile, she had never seen you smile, let alone laugh, even if it was a small one. “It’s kind of my job.”

“Which is? Kirby called you sergeant.”

You nodded. “Army, special forces.”

Sam let out a whistle. “Well, seems Ghostface is the one who doesn’t know what they’re getting into.”

“That’s for sure,” you smirked.

Sam’s head whipped back up to you. “Do you know something?” she watched you closely, there was still no visible reaction.

Kirby might not have trusted you, but she had enough doubts about you being Ghostface that she didn’t try and hold you longer at the police station and she didn’t put up much of a fight when Sam said she’d go with you to your house. It didn’t stop the thoughts of if Bailey was right from piercing her mind. She wanted to trust you, you were strong and clearly had skills, you saved her life, plus she liked you, but all of that could mean you were Ghostface. Every thought in her mind suddenly stopped, she was being paranoid, if you were Ghostface that meant you set up the whole gym attack, which just seemed crazy. Though crazy and seemingly illogical plans seemed to be Ghostface’s thing, maybe she made a mistake getting into the cab with you and inviting you back to the apartment where the others would be, where her sister would be.

“Having regrets about tagging along?” you asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. Yes, she was, it was like you were reading her mind. She wasn’t sure if that should put her at ease or make her more on edge.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” she blurted out. She tried not to pay any mind to the cab driver whose eyebrows rose, and how his eyes kept going from staring at the road in front of them to the rearview mirror.

You glanced at her out of the side of your eye, though you didn’t seem offended by the question. “You’re not supposed to ask that.” Sam frowned; it was a rather rude thing to ask. If you were special forces, it was a fair assumption that you probably had, but normal people didn’t tend to like to talk about that type of stuff. She opened her mouth to apologize when you continued, “But yes.” Sam could see the way the cab driver’s eyes widened slightly, and his eyes instantly dropped from the rearview mirror to stare straight ahead again.

Usually learning someone has killed before would make a person more nervous but it oddly eased Sam’s worries. The fact that you didn’t try and lie or didn’t brush her off, that you answered and didn’t elaborate or try and defend anything was what eased Sam’s worries about you. If you were Ghostface or the mastermind behind these knew attacks she figured you’d try and justify your actions, saying it was part of the job, they were the enemy, or something, anything to get Sam to understand and let her guard down, but you didn’t do any of that.

“You never answered my first question,” Sam said. She couldn’t let her guard down yet, you knew something, and until she knew what that was you were a potential threat. “Do you know something?”

“We’re here,” is all you said.

Sam rolled her eyes; you were being incredibly difficult with your short responses. She didn’t understand how she could have a conversation with you and learn more about you in a cab ride than she had in the last few months at the gym, but you still somehow came off as even more mysterious. You were somehow a lot simpler and easier to understand when you were just the cute stranger from her gym who liked to box.

You paid the cab driver and opened the door, stepping aside so Sam could slide out and close it behind her. Sam looked around; it definitely wasn’t the nicest neighborhood, but it certainly didn’t seem like the worst. Sam followed you through the metal gate in front of a single level white house. It was tucked between two other houses, leaving hardly any room on the side of the house but you had a front yard with a small patch of grass that was fenced in.

You didn’t have much else though, the grass wasn’t dead, so it was clearly taken care of, but you didn’t have any plants or a garden of any kind. The only thing in the driveway was your Jeep, which she wouldn’t know for sure until she saw the inside of your house, but it seemed like the nicest thing you owned, it had large wheels clearly meant for off roading, if the dried mud splattered on the side was anything to go by and it was a four door, giving you ample room for stuff or people, but Sam had a feeling it was used more for stuff. Even your porch was bare, not even a chair to sit on. If Sam were just walking past the house the only thing that would indicate there was someone possibly living there was the fact that the grass wasn’t overgrown.

She followed you up the concrete steps and waited as you put the key in the door. Your house wasn’t run down by any means, it was taken care of, there was no paint peeling or siding falling off, it just seemed empty. You pushed open the door, giving it a good shove when it got stuck. Sam moved to follow you but froze when she heard a deep growl.

Her head snapped up and past you and deeper in the room was a snarling German shepherd. Sam clenched her fists that were shoved in her pockets, she didn’t dare move, the dog continued to growl and bare its teeth, making sure they were on full display.

“No,” you commanded. You held up your hand in a stop motion and the dog instantly snapped its mouth shut and sat down as if it hadn’t just been ready to attack.

You walked over to the dog and gave it a good pat, scratching behind its ears. It looked up at you and Sam could see the tail wagging, but the dog continued to sit. Sam also stayed where she was, she had no desire to step into your home and be mauled by your dog. As much as Sam wanted to back out and just stay outside, she was afraid to move, she was pretty sure she always heard you weren’t supposed to run from a dog because then they’d chase you.

You glanced back at Sam, and she could swear there was a slight smirk on your lips. “You can come in,” you said. Sam started to move her hands out of her pockets but when the dog’s head snapped to her, she froze again. You fully turned around but still kept a hand on the dog, never stopping running your finger through her coat and behind her ears. “She won’t hurt you.”

“I’m inclined to disagree,” Sam said, looking at the dog warily. She had never been afraid of dogs before, but she wasn’t stupid, if that dog charged at her it definitely wouldn’t be pretty.

You chuckled and crouched down to rub your hands up and down the dog’s neck and under her chin. She was a mostly black German shepherd with bits of brown on her legs, neck, and belly. “She’s harmless.” Sam raised an eyebrow, giving you a disbelieving look, there was no way you could convince her that dog was harmless. “Unless you attack me. So, just,” you nodded your head back and forth as you stood back up. “Don’t do that.”

Sam nodded unsurely but crossed the threshold, stepping into your home fully. She closed the door behind her without turning around, just because you said the dog was friendly didn’t mean she was taking her eyes off it. Sam opted to stay near the door, not wanting to do anything to trigger the dog. The dog also stayed put, it was just Sam and the dog, staying in place and staring each other down, though at least she wasn’t growling at Sam anymore.

You moved away from the dog and into the kitchen which was just past the living room. Sam heard you shuffling around and when you turned around, she saw you scooping some dog food into a bowl. After you set the food bowl down on the floor you came back up with another one, dumping the old water out before giving it a quick rinse and filling it with fresh water.

“How long should this whole thing take?” you asked. Sam finally took her eyes away from the dog to look up at you. “I just need to know if I need my buddy to take her,” you glanced at your dog. “Or he just needs to stop by and let her out.”

Sam shoved her hands in her pockets again and gave a little shrug. “Usually, these psycho’s only make this go over the course of a few days,” she answered. “But you might not want her to be here,” she nodded at the dog, who just tilted her head curiously at Sam. “Ghostface might come here looking for you.”

You chuckled as you put the fresh bowl of water down. “Then I feel sorry for him. Artemis there,” you pointed to the dog. “Is a military dog. She was trained for combat, to take down bad guys with guns, and people shooting all around her.”

“Artemis?” Sam couldn’t help but smile at the name. She looked down when she saw the dog’s ear twitch at hearing her name.

You shrugged as if it was an obvious choice. “Goddess of the hunt.”

“I didn’t think dogs usually came home with soldiers. Aren’t there rules for that?”

“Normally, but she isn’t active duty.” You walked back to the living room and leaned against the doorframe as you looked at your dog with nothing but love. “Got injured and had to retire.” Sam frowned at that, even though she’d never admit that she was slightly scared of the dog she couldn’t imagine what kind of injury she had to suffer to be retired. “That doesn’t mean she can’t still take someone down.”

Sam let out a hum. Based on the greeting she got she wasn’t surprised by that statement. “Let me change and we can go,” you said. Sam nodded and watched as you turned around, walking through the kitchen and into the bedroom in the back.

She bounced on her feet as she waited for you to return. She glanced around your place, the walls were bare, there was a couch, a coffee table, a TV, and a video game console plugged in. It really didn’t seem like someone actually lived in the house, she figured she should count herself lucky that it seemed like you had an actual bed and not just a mattress on the floor. Sam jumped back when she felt a wet nose brush against her. She looked down to see Artemis had moved and was now standing directly in front of her, sniffing her.

“Hello,” Sam said awkwardly. She slowly removed her hand from her pocket and hesitantly held it out for the dog to sniff. Artemis gave her hand a few sniffs before beginning to lick it. Sam couldn’t help but smile, when she wasn’t growling and showing her teeth Artemis was rather adorable.

“You still never answered my question,” Sam called out. “What do you know about Ghostface?” she knelt down to get on eye level with Artemis to pet her better.

You popped your head through the doorway of your bedroom just as you finished pulling your fresh shirt down. “I don’t know anything about Ghostface,” you said.

“Are you kidding me?” Sam looked up. There was no way you didn’t know who Ghostface was, it was too famous of a story, there were so many books and movies about the attacks. “You expect me to believe you don’t know the story?”

“Of course, I know the story,” you continued shuffling around your room. “I’ve never seen any of the movies, I’ve only seen a couple articles or whenever there’s a new attack, of course I’ve heard people talk about it.”

Sam sucked in a breath and nodded. She could believe that. Horror wasn’t really her thing, that was always Tara, she probably never would have seen the movies or known as much as she does if she hadn’t grown up in Woodsboro, and of course if Billy Loomis wasn’t her father. “So, do you know who I am?”

You crouched down at the nightstand beside your bed before looking back at Sam. “I’ve heard whispers,” you admitted. “But I wasn’t in the country last year so no offense, but I had other priorities when whatever was happening to you and your friends.”

“You didn’t look me up just from the rumors? Someone like you,” you raised an eyebrow as if daring her to finish that sentence. “You don’t want to know who’s coming into your gym?”

You let out a sigh and rested a hand on the edge of the nightstand. “Everyone is entitled to their privacy. I also know how the media can be spun; I prefer to form my own opinions.” Sam nodded, she never thought about what you might have seen or done and how the military and media might have spun things for the general public or covered things up.

You looked back to your nightstand, opening the drawer before doing something that looked like pressing buttons, though Sam couldn’t see inside the drawer from where she was. A second later you flipped open the door to whatever was in the drawer and reached down to grab something. When your hand came back it was holding a gun. Sam sucked in a breath but didn’t say anything or move from where she was still petting your dog. You glanced at her as you checked the gun before putting the magazine in and sticking the gun in a holster at your back. You fixed your shirt and if Sam hadn’t literally just seen you put the gun where you did, she wouldn’t have been able to tell you had one on you.

 Sam didn’t know you. You were a complete and total stranger to her; it didn’t matter if you had saved her life. There was no reason for Sam to trust you, to not say anything about the gun and still allow you to come back to the apartment with her. But she didn’t, she kept her mouth shut, she couldn’t explain it but a part of her felt like she could trust you, she wanted to trust you. She also knew all too well how handy a gun could be in these situations and if Ghostface didn’t know you had one then it would only be a plus.

“You asked what I know,” you said as you came back through the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe to the living room again. “I know whoever I fought in that gym is untrained. They had absolutely no experience handling a knife, if it wasn’t for the other one catching me off guard they didn’t stand a chance.”

Sam pulled herself back to her feet, smiling as she watched Artemis walk back over to you. “Most of them don’t have training,” Sam said, nodding along. “In every previous attack they’ve always been seemingly normal people, high school or college kids.”

“They were disorganized. The only reason the one caught up to you was because you tripped. The gym seemed like unknown territory to them.”

“I wasn’t supposed to be there,” Sam ran a hand through her hair. “It was an impulsive decision.”

“Meaning they’re watching you.”

Sam’s eyes snapped wide open. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “After all, my last relationship was all a lie to try and set me up.” You raised an eyebrow at that. “Long story.”

“Well, it’s hard to make a plan of action without all the information.” You crossed the room until you were standing only a few feet from Sam, Artemis falling alongside you. “If I’m going with you then I need to know what I’m getting into.”

Sam’s grip tightened around her jacket, but she nodded, it was only fair. It wouldn’t be right to literally drag you into her mess and basically expect you to help protect the others and not tell you why any of this was happening. “It will be easier when we get to my apartment, with the others.”

You nodded and grabbed your sweatshirt before leading Sam out the door. “Also,” she said, turning back to face you. “Expect a lot of questions from my sister and her friends, we’re not exactly a trusting bunch.”

You only lightly chuckled at that. “Great, another interrogation,” you said but there was a small smile on your lips. You scratched the top of Artemis’s head and behind her ears before telling her to go eat. Sam could hear the sound of claws clacking against the wood floor as you closed the door. “Are we allowed to take my Jeep?” you asked.

Sam opened her mouth, about to deny it, but ended up nodding. She had already ridden in a cab alone with you and came to your house, also alone, getting in your car hardly seemed like that big of a deal. She also couldn’t argue that not having to pay for a cab back to the apartment would be nice, she didn’t think you were too far from her place but with everything going on she didn’t need the cab fee on top of it all.

Sam slipped into the passenger seat and looked at you as you pulled out onto the street. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. You were a stranger and were literally getting involved in something you had nothing to do with. Anyone else would have told Sam to piss off and would have gone back to their life, never to think about her again.

You eased on the break as you came to the stop sign at the end of your street. “Because you need help,” you said like it was simple. “I can’t just walk away when I know someone is actively trying to hurt you.”

“But I’m no one, I’m hardly worth all this.” You turned out onto the main road.

“I told you, it’s not in my nature to just turn my back on someone who needs help. And it’s clear the authorities can’t be relied on.” Sam scrunched her brow at that. “I don’t know about agent Reed, but I don’t trust Bailey.” You spared her a quick glance. Sam had never questioned Bailey until this new Ghostface, specifically his clear distrust of you. “I might not know you very well, but no one deserves all this,” you gestured with one hand. “You don’t deserve to be hunted down by some psycho.”

“Thank you,” Sam whispered. She really didn’t know what else to say. She knew she was the one to ask you to join them, but you didn’t owe them anything. You were going above and beyond for some random girl at your gym. Sam couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face as she looked at you, your eyes glued to the road. Maybe you were one of the good ones after all, maybe Sam wasn’t completely cursed to only attract darkness.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

[astarionbraiinrot]

Last Call

Chapter 1: Astarion

Sequel to One for the Road

Next Chapter

Read on AO3

It’s a few hours after dawn, and Astarion sits in the rocking chair near the bedroom window, just out of reach of the morning sun, contemplating the child in his arms. A tiny thing. Pudgy cheeks turned rosy after a successful first feed, courtesy of its mother. Pointed ears just slightly too big for its head. A mop of curly white hair in wild disarray. Pale green eyes squinting back at him with the slightly-disgruntled turnip-esque look inherent to newborns. A perfectly healthy baby boy, weighing in at just over seven pounds, and born at roughly 7-ish that morning, the first cries of this brand-new life coinciding with the dawning sun’s feeble attempts at projecting warmth into the midwinter chill of the frosty Nightal morning.

Looking back, the number seven had played a not-insignificant role in many of the major events of Astarion’s life. According to the records he and Tav had managed to dig up, he had been born near the end of Flamerule, the seventh month of the year, and he had died in that same month just a tenday shy of his fortieth birthday. He had been one of seven spawn, then one of seven thousand and seven. When he’d been kidnapped and tadpoled by Mindflayers, he’d quickly found himself part of a group of seven strangers traveling together to find a cure for the ticking timebombs in their brains. Then, almost as quickly, that group of strangers had become a party of seven friends-turned-adventurers on a quest to save the world. He’d stabbed Cazador fourteen times the night he'd taken back his life and regained his freedom, seven to kill him and seven more just because he deserved it. Their journey to defeat the Netherbrain and the Dead Three’s Chosen, from nautiloid to giant brain sinking into the Chionthar, took seven harrowing months. And he’d found out he was going to be a father for the first time just seven days before helping to crash that giant brain into the river. Now here he sat, making some rather embarrassing cooing noises he’d never admit to and gently rocking his seventh child.

Gods, his seventh child. He’d had months to wrap his head around the concept, and still, here he was, absolutely baffled as to how they’d gotten here. Even he could admit, privately, in his own mind, that seven was maybe a slightly unreasonable number of children to have. Especially for two Elves. Hells, most Elven couples barely managed two or three children over as many centuries, yet somehow, he and Tav had exceeded half a dozen in less than two decades. And while Elven children were uncommon, Dhampir were rarer still, with all sources firmly insisting that only True Vampires could sire them and that spawn were entirely sterile.

Shows what they know.

Even now, seven(!) children and almost twenty years later, they still truly had no idea why they were the exception to either rule. With their eldest, they had assumed it was a fluke of the tadpole (once he’d stopped hyperventilating long enough to have a conversation anyway). That, along with allowing him to walk in the sun, touch running water, and enter homes uninvited, it had temporarily knocked some part of his biology back close enough to “living” and whoops now they’re going to be parents. A once-in-an-unlifetime opportunity that had subsequently disappeared again along with all the tadpole’s other gifts.

It was a very sound theory too, if he did say so himself. Or at least it had been, right up until the moment Tav had informed him they’d managed the supposedly-impossible a second time. Or, more accurately, a second and third time, because clearly they were incapable of doing anything by halves. That time had coincided with some magical experimentation he’d undergone courtesy of Gale which, while not fully having the desired results, had given him an entire glorious month of being near-mortal enough to eat real food and walk in the sun. And so, once again, they’d made the (very reasonable in his opinion) decision to attribute this one to magic and unusual circumstances affecting biology in strange ways, blamed Gale this time, and got on with their lives as a happy family of five, confident in the knowledge that there was no chance of this happening again.

Of course, just over a year later when it did in fact very much happen again, they were forced to consider alternative causes to what was rapidly looking like the beginnings of a small army of children. Their friends’ theories had ranged from “killing Cazador could have made Astarion a True Vampire on a technicality,” to “the large number of lives lost in the Mindflayer invasion might have created a surplus of Elven souls waiting to reincarnate,” to the much more pragmatic “you are incapable of keeping your hands off one another and this is the expected result of such lack of willpower,” which to Lae’zel’s credit, was at the very least a contributing factor.

When the fifth one had happened a couple years later, followed rather quickly by the sixth not long after, he and Tav had decided that maybe it was time they sought out help with preventative measures. They’d paid Shadowheart a visit as soon as Tav was well enough to travel, hoping that her Clerical training and knowledge of medicine and potions would be up to the task. It was, and that had worked quite well for the next ten years, which turned out to be just long enough for them to get complacent, and now here they were again.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t wanted children, per se, moreso that they just hadn’t considered it could be an option since it wasn’t supposed to be possible, so they’d never really thought about whether they wanted to be preventing it or not until they’d already had four toddlers running around. But, unplanned as they were (and he never was good at plans anyway), he’d been relieved to find that loving them was not the arduous task he’d feared it might be. Quite the opposite, actually. He had not been prepared for just how much he could love them, these amazing little creatures that were somehow, miraculously, part him. But he did, with all the deepest parts of the heart he’d been sure he didn’t possess. Each one was a gift he’d never expected to receive, or even known he’d wanted, but gods was he so glad that they were here.

Even now, when he finds himself more and more wondering where the time has gone, one child just barely grown and most of the rest nearly there, all navigating life with grace and confidence and a drive for independence he knows they are ready for but he isn’t, happiness is the emotion he encounters the most these days. And, oh, wasn’t that just a kick to the chest? No one had told him that all the parts you prepare for, the crying, sleepless nights, toilet training, homework, sibling rivalries, puberty, broken hearts, dating, sleepless nights again, all the parts you expect to be hard, that those were actually the easy parts. No one had warned him that the hard part was having to put down the reins, letting them grow and navigate the world, seeing them try and fail and try again, fall and shake off the bruises and get back up. Spending the first half of their childhood hyper focused on keeping them safe, only for them to spend the second half excitedly forging a path out of that safety and into adventure as quickly as they can. He hadn’t known that watching his children experience life would feel like breaking his soul into pieces and setting them loose to run around outside his body discovering who they’ll be. Hadn’t prepared for an existence spent with his heart in his throat as he can only watch from the sidelines while they begin the journey of creating their own lives separate from him.

He absolutely does not get misty-eyed at that thought, and he’s only wiping his eyes because they itch, actually, and probably he’s suddenly developed a dust allergy just now because he definitely hasn’t shed even one tear over the idea of how quiet the house will be once they’re all grown and gone and he’s no longer spending his evenings pretending he can't hear the whispered giggles and gossip from their bedrooms as they utterly fail to hide the fact that they’re awake far too late for people who have school in the morning.

Gods, it must be terribly dusty in here.

Sitting here, holding his son and thinking about this family he’s built, it feels… strangely peaceful. A peace he knows will be shattered the moment the child in his arms turns his attention from scowling at his father to demanding another meal, but peaceful nonetheless. There wasn’t anything else that needed his attention at the moment. The midwife had attended to the cleanup before departing, making sure that the soiled bed linens were disposed of and replaced while he’d helped Tav to the bath and set about preparing her some breakfast. He’d sent a message to the neighbors asking them to inform the girls that their mother and new sibling were doing well and they could meet the baby when they got home from school and yes you still have to go to school today, yes really, yes I know I’m awful and mean and cruel and entirely unreasonable I love you anyway now go to school. Then he’d used their Sending Stone to ask Gale to please inform his eldest of the news and that he’d be sending funds for a teleportation circle to bring her home in a few days once her classes at Blackstaff were over for winter break, after which they’d had a brief discussion to adjust their holiday plans so that Gale’s family would now be coming to them for this year’s Winter Solstice Simril festival instead.

And so, with his to-do list cleared, he’d turned his mind to the task he’d been given by his darling wife, who was currently taking a well-earned rest in the bed nearby.

After both Tav and the baby had received a thorough bathing and a hearty meal, she’d placed their swaddled son in Astarion’s arms with instructions that their child needed a name, and since he was the one who’d insisted that they did not need to prepare a boy’s name, that meant he could do the work of coming up with one now while she would be taking a nap. And, if she awoke to find their son still nameless, she’d make the executive decision to name him after Gale. A very motivating threat, considering the man had already managed to lure away one of Astarion’s children into academia and wizardry of all things, a fact that he was not at all still minorly irritated over thank you very much, and he’d be damned if he’d let the wizard’s ego get any bigger by giving him a namesake on top of it. Absolutely not.

Thus, he’d spent the better part of the last hour considering this tiny new life and what moniker might fit him. A daunting task, really. Despite neither he nor Tav really being ones for tradition or holding to any particular religion, they knew that, for Elves, the choosing of a name was not something to be taken lightly, especially a child’s name. When they’d discovered they were expecting their eldest, finding out that they’d somehow accidentally done the supposedly-impossible and made an entire person at quite frankly the worst possible time had left them understandably quite anxious and a little terrified, so they had turned to Halsin for advice. In an effort to soothe their nerves, the druid had told them that, in Elven communities, a child’s birth was a momentous occasion, often drawing the entire neighborhood to gather and wait with eager anticipation for word of the new arrival. Once born, the child would be brought out by the new parents and presented to an elder relative, who would officially welcome them to the community by announcing the name chosen for them to those gathered. The name would usually reflect something unique about the child, or maybe convey what their presence meant to their parents, or might simply be a heartfelt wish for the child’s future. With rare exception, Elves would retain faint memories of these moments throughout their lives, even as other memories of childhood faded.

While hearing that had actually helped Tav to calm a little, it had done the exact opposite for Astarion, mostly just adding a layer of sadness to the fear coloring his already racing thoughts. The feeling that, by mere virtue of having no known family, they’d be denying their child what was apparently a core memory and treasured experience for their people, had broken some tiny little thing inside him, like a sliver off the edge of a pane of glass that leaves a weak point capable of shattering the rest. The whole thing just sounded so… nice. The thought of so many people eagerly awaiting your arrival, purely because your mere existence was a gift. The idea of being so wanted, so loved, before any of those gathered had even met you yet. He had wondered, briefly, if anyone had done that for him? Gathering around and celebrating simply because he was him and he was here. He had no memories of his mortal life, no family history to pass down or stories from his own youth that he could share with this child. Hells, he still had his childhood name, had died before he’d had the chance to even begin putting any thought into what name he might choose for himself when he came of age, what would represent who he had wanted to be.

Jaheira had told him at some point that his name meant “little star.” He’d had no idea. Had had no cause or opportunity to know it, and no one to ask even if he had. Was that how his parents had thought of him, a shining point of light, all bright and dazzling? He’d wanted to believe that there had been thought put into it. That someone had cared enough about his existence that they’d taken the time to find just the right name, one that would convey what they’d felt, hoped, dreamed for him. Though, whatever the intentions behind his name were, he was confident that he hadn’t lived up to them. He certainly hoped that none of what had occurred in the last two hundred years of his life and been on their wish list, anyway.

But, he’d thought, if he couldn’t provide this child with the ancestral welcome they deserved, then maybe the weird little family they’d somehow built out of a disparate group of traumatized worm-filled strangers could be enough. Maybe he could do for his own child what he’d decided to believe had been done for him and give them a name that was built on something good, something warm and positive, even if he was scared shitless at this whole situation.

And so, with that in mind, each of their children’s names had been chosen with the utmost care and reverence for the little life they’d made, with the hope that they would grow up feeling a connection and sense of belonging that neither he nor Tav had known, something to provide a root in the soil of the extended family they’d defied gods to build. A desperate wish that their children would always feel, no matter what, that they were loved, wholly and unconditionally, and know that home was always waiting for them.

The baby lets out a soft grunt and shifts in his blanket, at some point having chosen sleep over continuing to stare at his father while he’d been lost in thought. As Astarion takes in this tiny brand-new being, not even a half-day old, a surprise but welcome epilogue to a story they’d thought finished years ago, he tries to focus his tired mind on this important task laid at his feet. But it’s been over a day since he last tranced. The adrenaline of this whole event had kept him going for a while, but that had worn off hours ago, and while he’d pushed through the exhaustion to make sure that Tav and the baby were taken care of, he can feel himself losing the battle now that things have settled down. His eyes close without his permission. He leans back in the chair, cradling his son securely to his chest as muscle memory from the countless times he’s done this before slides over him like a well-worn glove. He inhales deeply, taking in that new baby smell he loves so much, and promises to himself that he’ll just rest his eyes for ten minutes.

Fifteen at most.

Definitely no more than twenty.

As he slips into Reverie, his mind drifts back to every time he’d been in this position over the years, and all the events that had led up to those moments, searching for inspiration. The initial fear that had reared its head less and less each time. The cautious excitement every time he first heard the faint double-time beat of a tiny heart. The wonder of feeling first kicks from a little creature so eager to make its presence known. The anxiety and thrill when there had been two. The pain and grief and terror when it had once gone so wrong. The adrenaline and panic and relief when it had once gone too right. The bone-deep exhaustion and elation and happy tears and pure joy that always came at the end when hearing that first cry. Each time, a small bundle gently placed in his arms. For each one, renewed awe that he could ever get to have something this unequivocally good. Always, a whispered introduction.

Hello, darling. It’s so nice to finally meet you.

Next Chapter

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.7 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all. MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU AREN'T IN ACT 2 YET.

Author Notes: (PLEASE READ) I hope all of you are excited for this chapter, I know some of you have been waiting for an update. I will be updating more chapters less, I got a new job, so I've been trying to focus on that. Thank you for understanding my lack being online. So, these next chapters will just be mostly fillers to move faster on act 3 so we can get some father battle. So, this chapter and the next might feel empty or rushed because we are on part 7 and we haven't reach act 3 and Cazador hasn't made an appearance yet. I want this series to have at least a maximum of 12 chapters. As always, Thank you so much for the support! I should be updating the master list with all the links of each chapter soon. Remember to Reblog and like if you enjoy this series. I am happy to start a taglist for this series since this week I will be working on a story well two.

Every time they settle down for the night, Astarion would be pacing and complaining how they are wasting time, you could be in danger. “Astation, we need rest for any enemies up ahead” Gale began only to be yelled at by the pale elf. Everyone was on edge with Astarions foul mood keeping their distance from him, even Tav. Tav mostly kept to themselves as Astarion only glared the meanest eyes at them, spewing over and over it’s their fault. “We could've found them already but here you are all lazing around.” He crossed his arms sitting at his tent. “Alright fangs, we get it.” Karlach looks over, carrying over wood on her shoulder. “You are always welcome to go on your own and find them. We are all worried for the little soldier, but we need to be smart about this and not endanger them more” Astarion only looks away and sits alone in his tent missing his little spawn. 

You were running trying to avoid the shadow curse taking over you. You somehow escaped that cell, but it cost the life of a guard. All you could see is their life drained. You felt so bad but yet they tasted so sweet. You vowed yourself not a single word of this to Astarion. You were scared he was going to get mad. You ran over to a fire staying close to it whimpering. Hearing footsteps near you, you quickly crouch behind a large rock and peaked. Hoping whatever is coming near is friendly. “Halt! Who goes there!” A feminine voice calls out. “Come out or arrows would be fired” They threaten. You slowly walk out of your hiding spot. Gasps were heard, “It’s just a child” the woman walks over and smiles “Are you okay? We won’t hurt you.” She kneels down holding a touch. “I escaped from a big castle…” You whisper, staying close to your rock. “Castle? Moonrise towers.” One of them whispers to their leader. “Come, we have a safe place called the Last Light Inn, you will be safe there. There are children of your age as well.  “She gently took your hand and kept you close. “Harpers lets go before the Shadow Curse gets us.” She commands and walks down a path. 

You felt lost inside this inn. You watched as those same Tieflings from the Grove were playing a quiet game. You slowly walked over “Hi…can I play?” You placed your arms behind your back. They only look at you before going back to their game. You turned around ready to walk back to the chair you were in, but a hand grabbed your arm and spun you back to the Tiefling children. “Hey now, is that how we treat a hero? If I remember correctly, they helped us out back at the Grove.” Mol grins looking back at the children “So I reckon you reconsider their offer.” Once they see Mol, they quickly move over offering you a spot. You smile “Thank you!” You quickly sat on the open spot playing with them. 

Hours passed and you met many people, you caught up with Alfira but you noticed she seemed sad. You also noticed there are a couple of Tieflings missing but didn’t question it. You met Jaheira and Isobel along with many more. You stayed by Mol’s side befriending her. You munched on a piece of bread given by Jaheria when you looked overhearing a commotion. “Stay inside, could be dangerous” Alfira told you two before walking outside. You didn’t mind as you kept eating but hearing a voice you’ve missed so much; you dropped your bread. 

“Astarion!” You yelled running outside tearing up. “Stay back little one!” Jaheira warns as you go outside and slip past her. Astarion looks overhearing his name and swore his dead heart had a heartbeat again when he saw you alive and unharmed. He picked you up quickly and held you close, placing your head into the neck of his shoulder “Oh thank god your alive little spawn” He didn’t care who saw him, he was feeling many emotions. He kissed the top of your head. Mol walks over “They are the ones who saved us, and that is their daddy.” Astarion looks up hearing Mol “I’m just a caretaker” He rolls his eyes. The group can see their spawn companion is back to his normal self. 

After the group minus you, take some herbal medicine that makes you say the truth, you stay near Astarions side. “What have you been up to little Spawn.” He brushes your hair as you sit between the space of his legs. “I was locked up in a castle when I woke up. There were these people and they called me beautiful artwork.” You look up at him. He frowns “So they know about your situation. “He sighs “They aren’t wrong, your kind is an artwork to those who have bad intentions. Usually…you would…” He tries to find the right words “Not be breathing, not even a second you were born. Which explains why there isn’t a high population of little spawns like you, well Dhampirs. “He explains though he knew you weren’t paying attention as you were busy watching a weed flow by the wind. He chuckles to himself as you were easy to get distracted. You got up from your spot and walked over greeting everyone you missed, getting hugs from left to right. You even got a pat on the head from Lae’zel. Nighttime came and you pouted at Astarion “But I don’t want to!” You wiggle around in his arms. You didn’t want to stay in the camp again. “It’s for your own good, it’s too dangerous out there.” He sighs “Tav say something” He motions his eyes over to you. Tav only looks over before looking over to you, “(Y/N) it’s safer for you to stay at camp. You don’t want Astarion to be worried sick again.” They pat your head. You only pout before huffing “Fine” You finally relax in his arm. “And you are never going to leave my side anymore” Astarion placed you over his hip walking to his tent. 

Over the couple of days, you were learning many things about nature thanks to Halsin. You giggle as he shifts out of his bear form. “Again! Again!” You cheered. “Alright alright.” He chuckles trying his best to keep up with your energy. More days went by, and a new temporary companion joined the group, Arabella. It took some time for you to warm up and approach her after Astarion told you to not question anything about her parents. You stood near her and kept silent before she broke the silence “You can talk to me you know; I am nothing like those children from the Grove.” She looks at you. Sitting down next to her, you look at the ground before looking up to Gale who was at his tent giving you the thumbs up. You took a deep breath and looked at Arabella. “Would you like to be my friend?” The Tiefling smiles “Of course. I think I need a friend at this point in my life. “ 

Hours rolled by and Astarion sighs walking back to the camp after successfully being able to get inside moonrise towers and become part of the group for their plan. “You know I can’t wait for when we stab them in the back” He smirks before looking over to see you and Arabella playing catch with Scratch. Scratch gets the ball whenever you fail to catch it and rolls away from you. “Were they able to play with other children over at Cazador’s palace?” Tav walks over to Astarion. The pale elf lets out a small smile seeing how happy you look. “No…Cazador never lets them out of the palace, never thought of it since I thought they were a spawn. Sunlight is our number one enemy after all, but I think this…this is making them feel more connected to their…human side you can say…I haven’t heard them complain about blood hunger. Maybe this distracts them” He hums before walking over “(Y/N), time a bath and do not fight me on this” He began before seeing you dart off. “Come back here!” He yells Tav only chuckles crossing their arms and lean back a bit watching you slip past Astarions legs and escape every time from his grasp. Everything was slowly going back to where it should, minus the tadpole and mind flayer situation.

[cylinderarts]

7 for the kiss asks, if you may! To shut them up 😚

thanks for the request Delt!! @fogno also requested this one!

To shut them up

“Have they gotten that bloody gate open yet?”

Shadowheart huffed at no one in particular as she stared down the bridge, glaring at Vel and Gale at the other end, trying to open a locked gate. After nearly being burnt to a crisp by stone gargoyles, she was not entertained by their insistence to stick around and fiddle with an old gate. Whether it once belonged to Shar or not, she was ready to leave this molten, crumbling hells hole. 

“Aha!” 

Gale’s voice rang out in victory, and she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She focused her attention elsewhere as the bumbling duo inspected the fruits of their wasted labor. She was going to lose her mind if she didn’t.

Finally, a pair of footsteps to her side made her look up. She folded her arms across her chest as Vel and Gale approached. Vel in particular had a rather self-satisfied expression, and she was not amused.

“Are you done now?” She pursed her lips at the tall tiefling. “Have you forgotten about getting to Moonrise? The whole point of us being down here?”

Vel didn’t even flinch at her clipped tone, still looking far too cheery. Shadowheart tried not to watch the bead of sweat that rolled down their temple as their red skin glistened. She could feel her face get warm, and not just from the ambient heat.

“Come on, Shadowheart. It won’t hurt us to do a little exploring,” they suddenly smiled. “Besides, I found something for you.”

Shadowheart noticed that they had their hands behind their back, clearly hiding something. She furrowed her brows, squinting at them suspiciously. 

“What’s your game?” She sneered. 

Vel raised an eyebrow. “No game here. Do you want it or not?”

She paused in consideration. “Fine.”

Vel smiled again and finally pulled whatever it was out from behind their back. Shadowheart’s lips parted in surprise as they held an idol of Shar in their palms, expertly carved out of black marble. It was dark and beautiful.

They held it out to her expectantly, but she hesitated to take it. 

“Why would you of all people give me this? A Selûnite bearing gifts sounds like a trick if I ever heard one.”

Their expression cracked just slightly, a sliver of annoyance slipping through.

“Do you really not trust me now, after everything? Just accept the gift,” they said exasperatedly. 

Shadowheart reluctantly reached out for the gift. The stone idol was warm from their hands as she turned it over, inspecting it. She ran a thumb over the small, intricate details.

“Checking to see if I poisoned it with my Selûnite magic?” Vel sounded far too smug for her liking. She glared at them, clutching the idol to her chest defensively.

“You wouldn’t dare; you are far too soft,” she scoffed. 

“So you think,” they teased, their lips twitching with a smug grin. “Who knows what tricks I have up my sleeves? Perhaps—”

Vel’s voice blurred into the background as her irritation boiled over. Her eyes caught their silver Selûne pendant hanging from their neck, staring her down, and it only served to annoy her further. Gods, she wanted them to shut up. 

Before she could decide otherwise, she reached up and grabbed their pendant, tugging harshly until their head jerked down low enough that she could stretch up to kiss them.

Their lips met harshly at first, venting her frustrations as the emotion exploded from her chest. What followed was a slow, seeping warmth that threaded between her ribs and enveloped her heart, melting her anger away entirely. Vel had gone stiff for a moment before melting along with her, returning the kiss with an eager passion.

Shadowheart pulled back first, blinking in surprise at the tingle on her lips as Vel’s eyelids fluttered open.

“What was that?” They asked, wide-eyed.

“I just wanted to shut you up,” she deflected, feeling her face burn.

“Right,” Vel smiled, a dazed and dreamy look in their mismatched eyes. She was almost tempted to kiss them again as her eyes flicked to their lips. 

Until a pained yelp pulled them out of the moment.

“Vel! Gale sprained an ankle again!” 

Vel sighed but sprung into action regardless, their hands already glowing with a spell as they descended the ladder further into the forge, leaving Shadowheart standing alone.

She stared down at the idol in her hands. She felt a prickle of guilt in the back of her mind as she carefully tucked the gift in her pack, preparing to follow the others. There was much to think about all of a sudden as the warmth in her chest lingered. 

How am I supposed to explain this one in my prayers?

[last-herondale]

You Are Enough Pt. 7

Astarion x Fem!reader

Fluff

AN: how we feeling? This is the fic for the poll!

Enjoy! 🤘🏼

Part 6

The tension in the room was palpable. Almost as if you could reach out and grab it. Your group sat at the table, arguing between themselves as you tried to take in as much information as possible. The room was filled with your allies and there was a buzz with the daunting mission before you.

Infiltrate Moonrise Towers and kill Ketheric Thorm.

Lae’zel was arguing strategies with Gale as to how you all should approach the towers. You were not surprised to see Lae’zel had opted for a direct show of strength, whereas Gale preferred a craftier approach to the mission.

During the whole ordeal, you tried to stay grounded and not fall into a panic ridden state. Astarion had opted to not take part in the meeting knowing this exact thing would happen.

“I’m sorry darling, but I don’t see the point in standing around for hours listening to the group squabble over battle plans that will never come to fruition, because let’s face it we both know that this whole blasted mission will turn into chaos—as it always does.”

While you agreed with Astarion, you believed it was important to be there and show support. It was a daring plan, the whole operation. The most dangerous plan since coming into the shadowlands.

It was turning into hour three of the meeting and Wyll and Lae’zel were mapping out plans for yet another approach when the doors to the meeting room opened. You glanced up and were shocked to see Astarion standing there in the doorway with a wild look in his eyes.

Before you could register a look of concern he had crossed the room in a blur, appearing in front of you as he cupped your face in his hands. You only had a moment to see his tousled white hair before he pulled you in for a kiss.

This kiss was like nothing you had experienced from him before. It wasn’t playful, or teasing like he usually was. This was desperation. This was consuming you as if you had been gone years rather than hours.

Your body was tense only momentarily, before you naturally melted against him, responding to his lips and hands on you.

The room grew quieter as people murmured and muttered at the spectacle.

When Astarion finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your face as he inhaled deeply, brushing his forehead against yours. His breath was uneven, as if he had been running. His fingers trembled against your skin.

Then, as quick as he entered, he was gone. Without a single word he turned and strode out of the room.

The room, which only moments earlier had been a constant roar of voices was now oddly still, save for the fire crackling in the fireplace.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and your face was flushed as your companions looked to you for an explanation.

“So,” Shadowheart said after a moment, raising an eyebrow, “I take it we’re supposed to act that didn’t just happen?”

Gale cleared his throat, his hands on the map, “Well, I think I would prefer that. Yes…”

Karlach seemed amused, her arms crossed as she smiled, “Well that was something.”

Lae’zel scoffed, “Sentiment is a weakness. Let us refocus!”

You barely heard any of them.

Without hesitation you pushed your chair back and went after Astarion immediately.

You found him outside, just beyond the glow of the torches, pacing near the end of the Inn’s protection. His hands were braced on his hips and his head was tilted down toward the ground, his body ridged with tension.

He heard the sound of your footsteps and turned. His expression softened when he saw you, but only slightly.

“Astarion. What was that?” You asked, approaching slowly, your eyes searching his.

He raked his hands through his hair.

“Well, clearly I thought a declaration of love would save you from that mindless meeting—“

You crossed your arms, “Don’t do that. Don’t deflect. That wasn’t some grand plan or even just an impulsive kiss— Star, you were shaking.”

He let out a breathy, bitter laugh, looking away from you. His jaw tightened and his usual smirk was gone from his face.

“I just— had to do it.”

“Why?” You asked softly.

He hesitated, and you thought he might deflect again, but he just took a step closer to you, his voice quiet.

“I can’t stop thinking about what we have ahead of us. Thorm, the castle, what lies ahead in the city…” he shook his head, “The danger we face is unparalleled.”

His eyes bore into yours, his brows furrowed.

“I couldn’t stop thinking…What if something happens to you? What if tomorrow, something takes you from me? What if I never see you again? What if—“

His breath caught and he shook his head again.

“And gods, I couldn’t stand it. I had to see you, I had to touch you. I had to remind myself that you’re still here— that your still—“

He exhaled sharply.

Your chest aches at his words and the fear on his face. You reached out and took his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers with his. You felt his body relax slightly at your touch.

“I’m here Astarion,” you said softly, “I’m right here.”

He sighed, and laughed weakly, “For now.”

You squeezed his hand. “Forever.” You said fiercely. “It’ll take more than Ketheric Thorm to take me away from you.”

His expression softened, yet his eyes traced over your face, as if he was trying to memorize every part of it. As if he was afraid you would disappear.

“Don’t promise me the impossible,” Astarion murmured.

You pulled him closer, resting your forehead on his.

“I mean it. Forever.”

He closed his eyes, breathing you in, grounding himself on your warmth. His other hand came up to rest on your waist holding you there. Not possessive, or demanding— just needing…

“I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” he whispered.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make sure that we both come out of this, won’t I?” You smiled, whispering back.

Astarion let out a breathy laugh. He smirked, brushing his lips against yours, not kissing you yet.

“What a terrible burden I’ve put on you, my dear.”

“For you, I will endure it all, in stride,” you grinned, nudging your nose to his.

This time he kissed you, but there was no desperation there. There was only comfort, only love. Only a sealing of that promise that you would do anything to keep.

Pt. 8

[galeorderbride]

Hiii!!

I discovered your account recently, and I'm a fan! This strengthens my love for Gale even more! I have a request, is it possible to use the following prompts :

3)Touching foreheads

7) Kissing scars

11)Sharing secrets

41)Washing each other hairs

52)Crying into their shoulder

60) sitting in their lap

i will probably ask for others prompt later ahah!

thanks you so much 🖤

Thank you for the request!! I’m stoked to know I’ve helped strengthen your love for everyone’s favourite rizzard lol. And send as many prompts as you like!

Your prompt awaits:

Rated: M (Gale and Tav sharing a bath, non descriptive nudity).

Gale x F!tav

Words: 1652

...

Wash my Troubles Away

Baths were always the way Tav chose to unwind after a stressful day. Before the nautiloid, and after, although she’d been seriously lacking in access. In all honesty, she was surprised it took this long for her to break down. Months on the road, toiling through endless swaths of blood, shit and tears with the onus on them to solve everyone’s problems. At first, Tav enjoyed helping, seeing new friends suffer a little bit less in such a difficult society. Once they reached Rivington, however, her patience ran drier than a dead fountain. 

Thankfully, they found the Elfsong, where a private bathroom awaited. As soon as the fee was paid, Tav thought about taking a bath—craved it. A space to calm her muscles and cry out her troubles without drawing attention. 

Hot water flowed against her naked back, bubbling with lavender oil and sudsy soap, emanating the scent of vanilla and oat. Tav tucked her legs to her chest, curling into a ball of frustration and embarrassment as she couldn’t stop crying. Tav needed more resilience than this. Facing the end of the world required stalwart bravery, and she was having a meltdown over finding gold for a bank manager. How in the hells was she supposed to take down a giant brain? 

Meanwhile, everyone else had no problem being selfish. A toy maker set explosives in his own products, totally willing to kill children to save his own skin. Idiots tying up Volo just because he was talking about the things they wanted to ignore. Ironhand gnomes masking abusive bigotry with a shining cause. Tav was tired of everyone’s bullshit, making excuses for themselves, taking zero responsibility when she had no other option but to face problems head on. 

Her self pity was interrupted by a knock at the bathroom door. The sound of a lilted, erudite voice coming through the wood: 

“Mind if I come in, love?” 

Gale appeared in the doorway after Tav agreed he could enter. Holding fresh towels and a wicker basket of different bath products, looking brand new as if he’d just returned from an apothecary. Tav splashed water in her face to mask the puffiness of her eyes, as if her detail oriented wizard would ever let a thing like that get past him. 

“You seem like you could use some company. And so far, I’ve been very skilled and…calming you down, so to speak. I fetched some products from Bonecloak’s, all your favourite scents. Jasmine, pomegranate, aloe vera. If you’d prefer to be alone, know you won’t offend me. I just wanted to give you these so you know someone is thinking about you,” he said. 

Tav turned her head, grinning as best she could, easier because of his presence. Since their romance had begun, he was the only one virtually incapable of annoying her. He always knew what to say, always understood the right words or actions to keep her grounded. No one had been such a positive force in her life, and every morning, no matter how terrible, she thanked the stars for finding that unstable portal. 

“I’m not enviable company at the moment, but yours, would surely heal my weary heart,” Tav replied. 

Gale smiled, “No matter how you’re feeling, there is no one in the realms I’d rather spend my time with.” 

Times like this were when Tav didn’t believe she deserved his sweetness. Doting on her out of an adoration she couldn’t figure out. He placed the bottles on a tiny stool beside the tub, undressing so he could join her in a warm, sudsy water, snapping his fingers with a little magic to heat it back to ideal temperature. He made use of the large, circular space as he sunk in behind her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace as she rested her back onto his chest. Little hairs tickled her skin, causing her to chuckle for the first time all day. 

Careful movements of his fingertips massaging her scalp sent shivers down Tav’s spine. Scents of pomegranate and jasmine soothed her sinuses, letting the hot water pour down her head, through strands of clean hair. Tension from her muscles seemed to dissolve with each considerate touch, Gale’s hands created to caress her skin. When he finished, he wrapped his arms around her, rocking her back and forth as they both watched the window ahead. A clear night gifted them glimmering stars, a cool breeze whistling out of a crack in the insulation. Tav leaned back, resting her head in the crux of Gale’s shoulder as she closed her eyes. A few, stray tears fell from her eyes, overwhelmed by the sudden comfort of her magical lover lifting her through the ache of evening. 

Gale didn’t press her for reasons, didn’t rush to solve the problem when he noticed her tears. He just held her, waited in solidarity until she was ready, happy to let her sink into his life force to refresh her own. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said with a tearful chuckle, “You must think I’m ridiculous. Crying for no reason like this.” 

“Well, my love, your mind may be telling you that there is no reason, but that doesn’t mean it’s true. With all our travels, all the weight on your shoulders, you have every reason to cry. You’re more resilient than you think, I’d have crumbled long ago,” he said. 

Tav looked up at him, in utter admiration for his thoughtfulness, his beauty, everything. If she could, she’d sing his praises for a thousand years, to make up for all the times Mystra never did. Or anyone else who didn’t care to see the magnificence of him. 

Her fingers traced up his collarbone, around the mark the orb left that paved a path to his wonderful neck. A forced tattoo sunk into the surface of his skin, binding him to his well intentioned folly. Their foreheads touched as Gale lowered his head, wishing desperately that he could hold every

 part of her at the same time. Mage hands and mirror images weren’t enough, it had to be him. 

“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?” He asked, words hanging on between their breaths, lips hovering over each other but never quite meeting. 

“Hmm, you’ve already told me about Mystra. And that you haven't spoken to anyone in over a year until me. Oh, and that you get excited when you see me bloody after a fight. What else could there possibly be?” She asked, flirtatiously smiling at him with her eyelids batting just the way he liked. The smirk he made when he saw it was irresistible. 

Gale chuckled, “This one is far less serious, but might be what you need to hear in this moment.” 

They adjusted slightly, Gale sitting up as he pulled his arm out of the water. Just above his elbow was a superficial scar, raised tissue blending in with the rest of his skin. An uneven line travelling up his arm, about three inches long. Wherever he got it from, it had to be years ago. 

“People don’t notice this scar much anymore, not with the giant black circle on my chest. But people used to. I’d tell them it was from a kitchen knife,” he said, “But…really I accidentally set fire to my neighbour’s rose bushes when I was a child. I was trying to conjure, and the fire got away from me. Singed my arm in the process.” 

Tav turned, scooching further onto his lap as she examined his arm. She couldn’t help but laugh, “That’s your secret? Ruining a bush?” 

“Not just any bush. A rose bush. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. I’d pass by those roses every day, stare at them for a minute or two. Just to see something be so effortlessly perfect in its imperfection. They simply grew that way, and then I destroyed them. All I could do was cry, sob over how I tarnished something so innocent and pretty for my own sake. I don’t talk about it because…well, it’s silly, but it’s the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It’s stayed with me my entire life, and the burn scar only serves as a beacon for it,” he explained. 

“Even worse than what happened with Mystra?” She asked, grazing her fingertips across the uneven line of the scar. Eyes stuck to the mark as if it was the last thing she’d ever see. 

Gale hesitated, taking a heart wrenching pause. Tav noticed his eyes staring ahead, fixated on the window. A heavy, unsaid energy hung over him.  

“It was the catalyst. For everything. Had I not set fire to that bush, Elminster never would’ve found me. And then I’d never have attracted Mystra’s attention. A boring existence…but maybe a better one,” he said, voice trailing along the waves of his melancholic thoughts. 

Instead of responding, giving him a treatise on how he didn’t need to feel guilty anymore and burning a flower bush wasn’t a definer of his total character, she pressed her lips against the burn scar. Counting her kisses for every year of remorse he felt since setting that fire ball. Ever since their first night together, he slowly began to shed that overconfident veneer, more comfortable to show her the parts of him that hurt, the deep cuts that both of them wished they could bury. 

“Seems we both have a guilt problem,” Tav said. “Come here.” 

Tav moved to straddle his lap, taking the ceramic bowl and filling it with the warm, soapy water. Gale rested on her shoulder, as if on impulse, while she poured the liquid down the long strands of chestnut hair. Running her shampooed hands across his scalp, satisfied every time she heard his happy moans against the scratch of her nails. After rinsing, she kissed the top of his head. 

“Thank you for telling me a secret,” she said, “I’ll tell you one of mine tomorrow.”

[tobbotobbs]

Twinkle Little Star

Astarion Ancunin x Masc/Male presenting Tav/Reader (Reader referred to as Tav) 

TW: sad, angst, no happy ending, mcd, slight gore ig, sad astarion, he needs a hug

It was supposed to be an easy quest. Get into the brothel, find one of his siblings, take them gently or with force and then talk to them about Cazador and what he was up to. He was suppposed to get informations and then let his brother or sister go, hopefully with having convinced them into helping him with their plan to destroy the abomination of a man that was once their only hope and tortured them their entire life. After that they should have gone to the Szarr palace and easily killed him with maybe a few dead servants and a little blood over their clothes. This? No, this was not how it was supposed to go. Yes he talked to Leon, his brother, and found out that Cazador was not letting anyone into the ballroom. He also found out that he now seemed to be keeping guard dogs, Gnolls and Hobgoblins. Cazador never had much approval left for anything close to dogs. So why now? He wanted everyone to be locked out of his ritual of course, but how big the ritual was really going to be, Astarion would have never imagined. They underestimated the Vampire Lord and that was where they all failed. The second that Astarion, Tav, Karlach and Gale stood at the end of the stairs in that creepy looking dungeon, Cazador had control over the Spawn thanks to the situation. Astarion was leaped from his feet by some magic and taken to the top of that pyramid looking cyrcle his other siblings formed, who were also hanging in the air. One quick look at the only true Vampire in the dungeon and a blood red powerful magic was swirling in and around Cazador. Astarion was the last piece that was missing for Cazador to fullfill his ritual, his deal with Mephistopheles. They went right into the trap, for the Vampire to finish his work to get even more powerful by killing 7000 innocent Souls and his 7 chosen Spawns, the ones wearing that lovely 'poem' on their back. To think he wanted to take over the ritual, once he had killed Cazador, was making him feel like he could throw up all the wine and the blood from Tav he drank today. Tav. Oh, his handsome, pretty and shy Tav. Always thinking too much, worrying- caring too much. Especially about Astarion. He didn’t deserve any of this to happen to him and yet there he stood, a scared scream of Astarions name left his lips before he was dashing forwards to run over to him, to help him, to save his world. But he couldn’t do such thing. Karlach took a hold of his waist, holding his lover back so he wouldn’t do something stupid now. The Tiefling looked just as hurt by what just happened, but she tried to not let it get to her head just as Gale did. Who was now coming forward to stand next to them and faced Cazador. They all stood there, looking at the gruesome mans face. It was ugly and disgustingly smiling at them. He laughed at them. Laughed at Tav for really falling for Astarions pathetic and weak character. Falling for the act and the seduction, just so Astarion would have protection and a save place to stay. For thinking they could stop him. For what he was about to do. 

If it weren’t for Tav’s ability to use misty step freely as he pleased, everything might have turned out differently. He teleported in the blink of an eye, right next to Cazador and his dagger already lifted to strike and cut through the Vampires throat. If he only had seen it coming. The hand that held 5 sword like sharp claws instead of soft fingertips. He tore right through Tavs chest. Thanks to the power that comes with being a Vampire Lord, it looked as if he had just punched through water, without any resistence. A weird and awful eery wet and cracking sound was flying through the silent dungeon. If Astarion and the others wouldn’t have had their eyes on Tav, it could have been also mistaken with the sound of wet fresh salary being crunched into pieces or like an apple, that was ripped apart by some Barbarian just like Karlach was. The time stood still as Cazador proudfully and with no shame held their groups leader with his bare hand and kept him from falling down to the floor. It must be hurting so much, Karlach thought as she watched Tav struggle to breath and keep the pained sounds at bay. He does not deserve this, was what Gale wanted to say out loud. Not him, anyone but him please. That is what was going through Astarions mind as he watched the love of his life slowly die at the hands of the monster he thought once saved him. What a fool he was. The Vampire Spawn was trying to move, tryied to do something just anything to get to his dear Darling. But he couldn’t. He was still restricted by the magic coming from Cazador, who was now laughing at Tav’s pathetic and stupid attempt to kill him. Tav was, even in his last minutes, looking with pure hatred and disgust at Cazador Szarr, who now lifted his body from the floor which caused him to let out a gut wrenching scream. He could feel every part in him moving and straining against the hand in his chest, could feel the sharp claws that punctured through his lungs and left him breathing in his own blood. Karlach was the first to move. She immediatly summoned Scratch and send their dog companion Astarions way to help free him from his restrictions while she herself came at Cazador with her battleaxe. Gale was fast to followe her lead and started casting spells at the guard dogs that were in their way, killing many at once with his large area and his favourite necromancy spells. Like that they came easily through to Cazador, who looked a little spooked now. The Vampire Lord already had dropped Tav a few feet away from him, no longer interested in his dying form. Now ready to have an actual fight and a little fun killing some people, the Vampire gripped his magical staff and aslo started throwing spells at Gale, to take the wizard out first. He wasn’t dumb, after all wizards are hard to kill with their ability to attack from distance and counter spell other spells thrown at them or magically protect themself and others. The barbarian, Cazador was smiling to himself, he would deal with later. He had the feeling she and his little pet had a deeper connection so it would be fun hurting her in front of Astarion right before the ritual to torture him one last time, even if their connection wasn’t as deep as the one between his chosen Spawn and that pathetic boy trying to kill him with a mere little dagger. Oh how he wished he could’ve saved that ones death for later. To terrorize his Spawn really good one last time. 

That was not the important thing going on right now though, no. It was the fight that Cazador began to loose. Gale was a talented wizard, perhaps the most talented Astarion has ever met and he was surely not backing down or getting tired from this fight. Gale stood his ground and counter spelled every curse and element the Vampire Lord sent his and Karlachs way, meanwhile he also threw various powerful magic at their opponent. His spells hit and Cazador started to get tired and get more risky with his steps and his focus on both the barbarian and the wizard. He did not notice nor did he looked when Karlach suddenly vanished from his peripheral vision and appeared just a few seconds later behind him with her battleaxe raised high above her head and her mouth leaving a loud battlecry that was full of rage, sorrow, pain and grief. Karlach brought down the heavy axe and hit the Vampire right on the head which split open into two parts so easily, it was rather eery. Her eyes were full of tears of rage and sadness. Her breathing was hard and shallow and without a single care about anything she swung her weapon again and hit the now dead Vampire Lord under her again and again and again. Until she felt soft smaller hands frap around her wrist and tugged her into a warm welcoming embrace full of empathy. Gale was crying himself, he had just lost his best friend and they hadn’t even had time to really mourn. Just head straight into a fight to not die themself. While Gale and Karlach held eachother close they heard the quiet taps of paws on the cold stone floor, getting closer to them but then stopping a few feet away. A high pitched whine was all they heard and they knew it was Scratch who has found Tav’s dead, lifeless body on the floor laying in his own still warm blood with his eyes looking empty and into the nothingness. Scratch sat next to Tav and tried to wake him up with nudging his arm with his wet nose, but Tav didn’t move at all. Another whine left Scratches mouth. Karlach and Gale looked at eachother before they took another look at Tav and then at their other friend.  

Astarion was feeling like he was drowning, even though he didn’t even need to breath as Vampire Spawn. But it still felt like he was underwater, being dragged under the surface by some invisible monster. He knew he could move and all, Scratch had helped him after all and Cazador was dead now too, so the magic was gone. He could move. No water or any monster. His eyes felt weirdly wet and his cheeks too, he was crying. Astarion had not cried in so long. He never found himself caring, loving someone so much in the last 200 years. He never cried but now here he was, his legs carrying him to his long passed lover and breaking down next to Tav. Hid eyes never stopped the salty tears and he could care less when he started whimpering and moaning in complete misery and pain. His hands shook as he tried to hold Tav’s hand in his and give it a soft, gentle kiss like he does so often when they spent the night together in his tennt, reading books or just talking. It felt unreal to him, seeing the strongest person he knew lie there, cold and without any life in them. His other hand creeped up Tav’s face to gently cup his cheek and caress it with his fingers. He cried and mumbled how it wasn’t fair this had happened. Whispered little nothings into the silence of the dungeon about how he was going to spent his eternity with Tav somehow. It was devestating to watch, even more so to hear and listen to Astarion talk to Tav as if he was still alive and could answer him.  

And the worst part was the little star necklace he had given Tav that he now held in his trembling hands. A little star pendant was on the silvery chain. It should remind Tav of him and make him feel like a part of Astarion is always with him. It was a joke first, after Tav found out his anme meant little star and started nicknaming him Star instead of Astarion. It turned into something so much more and meaningful to both of them and here they were. The twinkle of his Star was gone. 

[azukiel]

Nightfall Heir Chapter 9

🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW

Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Kidnapping, Pregnancy and Childbirth

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11

⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐

Summary: Two years have passed since the events surrounding the destruction of the Absolute. Baldur's Gate is slowly rebuilding itself from the rubble, and you and your companions have established yourselves within the city to help in its restoration.

You and your vampiric lover, Astarion, had been nigh inseparable since coming back together. Yet a certain turn of events saw to your kidnapping and then... to your unexpected pregnancy.

🔥Comments and reblogs are much appreciated! 🔥

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost dawn by the time Astarion and the others returned to the house. Of which day, though, you were not to know. You had been still slipping in and out of consciousness. Halsin put you into a deeper, more restful slumber so that your dreams would not torment you and you could heal better.

Astarion and the others were visibly exhausted as they stumbled in through the front door, their armour dripping with sweat and copious amounts of sanguine fluids. The others in the group, however, looked paler than the vampiric-elf himself.

“What happened? Are you all ok?” Shadowheart’s voice was full of worry.

Gale nodded, his hands were still trembling. “Our bodies are unscathed, mostly. But... it is going to take a while longer to erase what happened from our minds.”

Shadowheart and Halsin looked at them, confused. Astarion’s gaze was austere and brooding.

“Carnage. Pure, bloody fucking carnage!” Karlach piped up then, her voice rather one of excitement, as she was still giddy from the event.

“Honestly, Astarion,” Lae’zel continued, a somewhat proud look on her face, “I knew all had reason to fear you, but this night truly emphasized that fact.”

“They had it coming.” Was all Astarion replied as he looked over at you, his eyes drooping with a deep anguish.

“How is she?” His voice came out small, almost meek.

Halsin looked sympathetically back at him. He put his hand on his younger counterpart’s shoulder and squeezed gently, trying to calm his nerves. “As well as could be expected. She should recover.”

Astarion’s breath escaped him, and tears began to cascade down his pale features, streaking rivulets through the caked blood and grime on his face. The others looked at each other knowingly before looking back at Astarion, their eyes full of sympathy and understanding.

“We will go to barracks and clean up there.” Wyll spoke once more. “We will return later, after we’ve all had some rest and recuperation.”

Halsin nodded in agreement to Wyll’s suggestion, and as they all filed back out the door, they either patted Astarion on the back or shoulder in reassurance, showing their understanding.

“We already bathed here. I hope you do not mind.” Shadowheart spoke up after a few moments when Wyll, Karlach, Gale, and Lae’zel had left.

“No..no, of course not.” Astarion smiled faintly, attempting some form of decorum. Yet, he could not help but sob within his attempts to remain composed.

“It is alright to weep, my friend.” Halsin patted him on the shoulder again. “It’s healthier to let it out than to keep it all pent up inside.”

“I know...” Astarion seemed more frustrated by himself than anything. “We could not find her...” His teeth gritted as flashes of what had occurred that night flooded his mind.

“Who, Astarion?”

“Faceless.” His tone was bitter, angered and frustrated as he balled his hands at his sides. “She escaped... that fucking murderous bitch escaped... left the remnants of her coven to meet my blades. And meet my blades, they did. I gorged on their blood and left their innards sprawled along the walls and their limbs strewn along the floors. Faceless will have nothing but the entrails of her comrades to return to. And when she returns, I will hunt her. I will hunt her to the ends of Faerûn and rip her fucking throat out.”

With each spoken word, his anger only intensified. Shadowheart put her hand upon his arm to calm his ever-growing ire. The tears only cascaded faster down his cheeks then, creating muddy paths from their mingling with the crimson life force of the fallen.

“She will pay, my friend,” she tried to soothe him, yet even her voice shook with rage. “But now you must clean yourself up and get some rest. I am sure Tav will recover quicker with you close to her.”

Astarion wiped his wet face roughly, not bothering to address his utter shame at his outbursts. In a way, he found it almost relieving that his companions saw his weaknesses and felt them as he did. After all, they had been through countless trials together. He knew their allegiance would never wane. That thought alone caused his sobs to abate and gave way to some semblance of peace.

“Indeed,” Halsin concurred. “Rest yourself for now. Shadowheart and I shall rest soon after.”

Astarion nodded. “The guest rooms are at your disposal. And thank you. Thank you both for everything you have done for her. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“Repayment is not needed. It’s what friends are for.” Halsin responded with a kind smile.

“Exactly.” Shadowheart reiterated. “You both would not hesitate to do the same for any of us.”

Astarion flushed through the blood and grime that streaked his porcelain features. “Indeed, we would. Now please, go rest. I will wash up and take vigil over her.”

Halsin nodded in agreement as he stifled a yawn. Looking out the doors of your balcony, he could see the hint of sun coming over the horizon.

“Lathander is bringing upon a new day, Astarion. Did you happen to find her ring?”

Astarion’s tired eyes shot open in remembrance. Shoving his hand in under his leather Drow armour, he bought out the ring... still attached to a rather pointed finger. Halsin and Shadowheart’s mouths dropped agape.

Astarion pulled the ring off the finger and stared at the finger with disgust.

“I was able to cut it off the bitch’s hand before she escaped,” he explained. Taking a deep waft of the finger’s scent, he promptly threw it out the open door with such force it flew far enough to fall into the river, which flowed at the far end of the garden.

“Now I will remember the cunt’s scent. I will hunt her down and destroy her if it is the last thing I do.” His face once more filled with rage and resolve, causing Halsin to look at Shadowheart with a concerned expression. They knew Astarion would keep to his word. He was resolute and stubborn like that. Alas, Astarion now, of all times, needed to be re-centered, especially now that you, his beloved, were with child.

“Astarion,” Halsin began calmly, “go and clean yourself up. When you’re done, you and I need to have a talk.”

Astarion’s expression turned to one of confusion then, but he did not question the Archdruid’s command, and went to do what he was told.

When he returned after a while, Shadowheart was now downstairs in one of the guestrooms asleep, and Halsin was sitting on the chair he had brought into the main bedroom, watching you as you slept. Upon entering the room, Halsin looked up at him with a tired but warm smile.

“Take a seat,” he motioned to the side of the bed. Astarion did so, looking down at you for a moment before he refocussed his attention on the much bigger elf.

Halsin leaned forward and gently placed the palm of his hand on your stomach, and this time, Astarion noted his action.

He squinted slightly as he spoke, “What... what are you doing?” Astarion asked, confused.

Halsin smiled broadly this time, making Astarion suddenly grow uneasy at his obvious joy.

“My hand is not merely upon her stomach...” the druid began, smiling calmly.

Astarion blinked hard, still very befuddled. “Speak plainly, Halsin,” he demanded, a slight frown knotting his brow.

Halsin tilted his head for a moment before answering. “There is something you need to know about Tav, something she was not aware of, or too shocked and afraid to tell you.”

Astarion’s mind had churned rapidly, all of Halsin’s words spinning into a chaotic clutter in his head.

“Is she dying, Halsin?! Is that what you are telling me?”

Halsin could not help but chuckle softly at Astarion’s conclusion.

“No, my dear friend,” he reassured. “She is quite the contrary.”

Astarion blinked hard again. “What, Halsin?! What in the Nine Hells is it?”

“She is with child.”

Astarion just stared at Halsin in pure and utter disbelief, and Halsin kept a level and sympathetic gaze with him as the news settled upon Astarion’s fraying senses.

“How is that... that possible? I’m technically... dead!”

“Undead.” Halsin corrected with a grin. “But undead can procreate when coupled with life.”

“Wh... what?” Astarion stuttered, his eyes wide and still clouded with confusion.

“Dhampir.” Halsin stated.

Astarion’s lip drooped as he continued to look blankly, the words not yet settling in his tired mind.

Halsin cupped Astarion’s shaking hand with his large palm and guided his hand to the very tiny bump of your abdomen, leaving Astarion’s cold fingers resting gently there.

“Close your eyes, my friend. Let me guide you.”

Astarion complied with Halsin’s request. As instructed, his eyelids fluttered closed.

“Focus all of your senses on her. Feel every sensation within reach. Close yours around your little babe here inside; let nothing else distract from their presence.”

It was barely perceptible, but to a vampire’s keen wits and the help of Halsin’s magic, the ever-so-faint essence of a new soul graced Astarion’s senses. His eyes shot open, his mouth fell slightly agape. How had he not sensed this before? Had he been so wrapped up with his carnal pleasures with you for him to have noticed? Then why had he not noticed during normal times? Surely he had not been that distracted?

“Now the real work begins, my friend.” Halsin grinned.

Astarion snapped back to reality, the daze within him beginning to lift. His face still looked stunned, like an anvil had slammed into his forehead. Were those tears he could feel stinging the corner of his eyes?

“What exactly are you insinuating?” Astarion queried hesitantly, afraid of what Halsin may reply, feeling nervous about whatever news the Archdruid was about to relay to him. Astarion knew almost nothing of children, childbirth, or even child-rearing. Whatever little he had learnt was from all your previous interactions with them back in camp and at the new orphanage Halsin had established in what were the old Shadowlands - now Lightlands - as Halsin had nicknamed it. But babies? No. Absolutely nothing. Though contemplating, or perhaps lamenting at the inability to have children with you had crossed his mind on more than one occasion.

“Besides hunting down and destroying that woman that haunts us all... you will have to be the spearhead that guides and supports Tavrin through the emotional and bodily changes she will experience with her pregnancy and then the pains of childbirth, for her sake, and the safety of the babe’s.”

Halsin’s words came down like a sledgehammer. Astarion’s jaw clenched immediately. He suddenly found himself dumbfounded, his speech almost robbed by the notion of becoming a parent. Him, a parent?

He looked between your sleeping form and Halsin, who was now eyeing him inquisitively.

“Is...is this real? There’s absolutely no mistake?”

Halsin sighed and his jaw tensed. “Of course, this is no mistake, Astarion. You are going to be a father.”

“Me?” Astarion’s voice quivered coarsely.

Halsin chuckled. “Of course, you. Who else?”

Astarion then eyed the Archdruid, causing the bear of an elf to blush and clear his throat.

“My friend, the three of us have not continued our secret tryst in quite some time. Of course you are the father. Tav would have it no other way.”

“I...am going to be a father...” The words rolled out of Astarion’s lips as easily as the salt of his tears that now rolled down his cheeks. He broke into a bright and joyful smile as the tears kept flowing. Leaning over, Astarion embraced Halsin tightly, making the larger man blush furiously. But he did not repel from the embrace, but rather relished in it. He cared deeply for the both of you, and perhaps missed the naughty nights the three of you spent with each other on the odd occasion. Halsin hoped, truly, that you would find yourselves living in peace with this child and that Faceless would no longer hound you and continue to threaten the happiness you two had built together. But the threat she still posed lingered darkly in all your minds.

Both pulling away gently, Astarion wiped his dampened eyes with his sleeve. “I’m still having a hard time believing it. I mean, I do now but... everything I had learnt about vampirism and my kind, which was very little, came from Cazador. He ensured the shroud was kept pulled well over our eyes. Being undead and all, I thought it would be impossible for us to conceive children. I now stand corrected.”

Halsin nodded, relieved that he was gradually opening up about it.

“There is one thing I know, though.” Halsin began. “Only true vampires are able to conceive with other humanoid creatures, and now that Cazador is out of the picture, well, technically, you are now a true vampire.”

Astarion pondered on Halsin’s words for a moment. “You are right...”

“Have you and Tavrin discussed offspring at all before, by any chance?” Halsin smiled softly. “Even briefly?”

“No...” Astarion paused for a moment, gazing tenderly at the smooth features of your bruised and battered face, “But honestly... it has crossed my mind on more than one occasion.”

“This can only mean one thing,” Halsin deduced as he shifted to take hold of Astarion’s chin, forcing him to avert his loving gaze away from your body to meet his. “The gods have spoken.” Halsin let go of him, a mischievous grin slipping across his broad chin.

Astarion could not help but chuckle. “I did not take you for being the teasing type, Halsin.”

“I guess the children’s humour has rubbed off on me,” he laughed as he referred to the many children that were keeping Thaniel and Oliver company back at the orphanage. “And soon there will be the pitter-patter of a little Astarion and Tavrin running around! Gods be willing, perhaps many pitter-patters of tiny feet to fill your new home!”

Astarion sat back and blinked. “Multiple offspring?”

“If you both remain busy.” Halsin teased further.

Astarion gulped. “Ah.. well, then I hope I shall live to see these ‘pitter-pattering of feet’, as you put it.”

Halsin laughed and clapped Astarion across the back jovially. “Don’t be so forlorn, my friend. All will be well with us watching over each other.”

“I know. It’s just that... I’m still reeling from all that has happened and now with this bombshell... I don’t know what to think. But I have to thank you again, Halsin, for everything. I have to thank all of you, to be honest, but you especially. I never would have thought I would have bonded with a bear of a druid so well.” He laughed at the motion, causing Halsin himself to chuckle.

“And me being a disciple of the Oak-father, never would have thought I would have coupled with an undead and a drow from the Underdark, for that matter, but here we are!”

Astarion went silent and looked thoughtfully towards his love. “Speaking of couplings...” Astarion trailed off. “Would you endure one more favour for me?”

Halsin blinked. “Oh?” He looked at Astarion curiously, his own heart beginning to pound in his chest. “A-another threesome?”

Astarion chuckled cheekily, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, I would not say no to that, but we must wait to see what our beloved Tav has to say.” His eyes narrowed on Halsin, and his grin turned salacious. “Though I am sure she would not abhor the thought. The nights the three of us have spent fucking till the morning birds sang sure were deliciously fun.”

Halsin felt his cheeks heat at the memories. They had been, indeed.

“But that is a favour for perhaps another time,” Astarion continued, his tone becoming more serious once again.

“All this cultist blood I gorged on has made me feel somewhat sick to the stomach. My palette needs cleansing and well,” he looked back down at you. “With Tav in such a state, obviously I cannot feed from her...”

“You want to feed from me?” Halsin raised a thick eyebrow.

“Only for a few moments. Just enough to get this foul blood flushed through my system and to curb the worst of my hunger. And well, with our history of the three of us... I thought perhaps you might be willing to share just a little of your healing with me?”

Halsin’s smile then took Astarion aback. He was not expecting the Archdruid to actually agree.

“As a druid, it is my duty to regenerate life. If I can give you life anew, then I will do so by whatever means necessary, my friend.”

“I never would have imagined the Oak-father to endorse such decadence between us...” Astarion started, unable to hide his amusement, yet his voice turned grave. “That is, if he actually does, of course. Not like I care, but you…”

Halsin drew Astarion in close then, much to the vampiric-elf’s shock. He pulled away just far enough to stare Astarion in his faint crimson eyes.

“Life is life, Astarion,” he murmured, a low growl entering his voice. “To celebrate giving life in whatever form one might encounter should be reason enough to bring a smile to anyone’s lips.”

The fire in Halsin’s voice stirred both fear and lust in Astarion. Yes, the three of you had some... heated interactions in the past, but this time... something felt different. Was it perhaps the emotions stirred from discovering about the unborn child, or was it merely because Halsin and his power were both desirable and dangerous and incredibly alluring, or a bit of everything, really? Either way, his cock was starting to feel tight.

Halsin placed his finger firmly beneath Astarion’s chin. “Tavrin is fast asleep and well,” his finger left his chin then and traced a trail along your elegant jaw.

His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “As the Oak-father made me a protector and a healer of the woodlands, it would be an absolute sin not to bless your carnal thirst with my own essence of life.”

Astarion squirmed in his spot and gripped his thighs tightly. That sentence alone was enough to make him grow fully hard beneath his leather trousers. Halsin, knowingly, grinned.

“That will have to wait until Tav gives us all permission, if she has the will or needs to do so,” he added as he looked at Astarion’s growing arousal.

Halsin looked away then, pushing down his own growing lust that he felt towards you both. He could not help but reminisce on the beauty of you taking hold of him, and the desire to embrace you again as he had the past times the three of you were in bed together. He could not help but shiver at the desire to have Astarion covet him with affections once more. The three of you in a sweaty, tangled mess, riding each other into oblivion, moaning and crying your praises of each other. How his mind wanted him to believe it could happen then, but with your safety a constant priority, and you currently teetering between the Abyss and the divine, Halsin would not break his promise to the Woodland Whisperer to look after you and the child within your womb first.

Astarion nodded, and a sudden guilt gripped him. “I won’t feed from you without her permission, despite my own predicament right now.” He looked down at his hardened member as it pressed against its trappings, and his brow furrowed. “I do not want to betray her. I would never...”

“I understand your sentiments,” Halsin reassured gently.

“Though I must remind you rather amusingly that it was her who initiated our little... understanding.”

Astarion could not help but chuckle then. He could remember it well. “Oh trust me, I know. And I’ll have you know, that of all of you that had tried to woo her and get into her panties at one point or another, which is all of you to be honest, you are the only one I was willing to accept aside from myself, of course.”

Halsin laughed jovially. “And I am honoured, my friend.” He glanced down again at Astarion’s tented crotch pressing up painfully under those tight leather pants. He fought his continued urges to ease the Elven vampire out of his troubles.

“Now, I think we all need to sleep,” he began, once more pushing such lurid thoughts from his mind. “Put the Eclipsed Radiance back on her finger lest you lose it and then get some rest. We can all talk again after we’ve rested enough.”

“Yes, of course.” Astarion cleared his throat as he took the ring from his clean shirt pocket and slipped it back onto your ring finger. As he did so, Halsin had stood to close the doors and curtains.

“Sleep well, Astarion.” The bear of a druid squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “And remember, all will be well.”

Astarion nodded. “Thank you again, Halsin, for everything. I owe you all a great debt.”

Halsin smiled gently. “You owe us nothing, my friend.” And with those words, he left your bedroom, closing the door behind him gently.

Sighing, Astarion slipped under the blankets and curled up beside you, watching your plump chest rise and fall from your breathing. Though your breath was still somewhat laboured, Halsin and Shadowheart’s healing was repairing you slowly. And for that, Astarion was eternally grateful.

Gently, he reached his arm over you to place his hand once more upon your stomach, focussing his senses and energy as Halsin had shown him.

After a few minutes of silence, you inhaled deeply and groaned, but remained in slumber.

Astarion stiffened as your breath rattled against his ears, and his senses focused back on your breathing.

“Just sleep, my dear. Sleep.” His words came out like a gentle plea.

With your steady and comforting breathing resuming, he felt assured that everything was finally calm. As he pressed his chest up against your sleeping form, his face rested gently against yours. Again, he focussed his senses to where his hand rested upon your belly, and a great warmth filled his entire being. He could feel them; the life that grew in you. He could now smell them, too, and tears welled up in his eyes again at the notion that all this was possible. Even though he had considered offspring before, he had never thought to bring it up to you, as he had always thought it impossible. You yourself had never mentioned children, either. Perhaps the both of you were too afraid or embarrassed to discuss it.

But it was real now, and his happiness swelled in his chest and he smiled at you sleeping beside him. If you would let him, he would love nothing more than to father more children with you one day. How he would manage running around with a gaggle of mini versions of you and himself he could not quite comprehend yet, but if it was with you, then he would manage. And with that thought lingering on his drowsy mind, he would strive to be the best father and partner that he could be.