#but she will sometimes let Shadowheart dress her up :)

[araneapeixes]

i'd love to see your tav/durge in a modern au! i love all the outfit designs you do for modern versions of characters, so i'd love to see it

Ahh thank you for appreciating the little outfits I put my besties in <3 And HELL YEAH!! Modern AU Ren has been on my mind for days and she WILL see the light of day

[eliteseven]

Did Serena and Shadowheart follow the same romantic arc as in the game (first kiss at the party, making things official after Gauntlet, first time at the beach, etc)? Or did it go entirely differently? Who fell first for the other? How did the other companions react? We know there have been a few "bumps" here and there, like the life expectancy talk, or Shads just being a gremlin early on lmao, but how are things between them overall (before full domesticity life at the cottage, which they 100% deserve 😭)?

I love them both so much and i'm simply obsessed with how you write them, thank you for sharing that with us 🙏🙏

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH 💕 I put a lot of love into writing them, I��m THRILLED you love them too!! 🥰 thank you for the sweet words, week made!!!

For ease of reading (bc damn I started and did NOT shut up lol), I’ll detail their journey under the cut: (with a few screenies) 😊

I used the game’s romantic arc to structure the basis of their relationship- so all these events did happen, though I’ve messed with the timeline a little.

-their relationship is contentious at first. When Serena finds out she’s a worshipper of Shar- it’s obviously a little jarring, despite the honesty. She trusts Shadowheart about as much as Astarion, fangs and all. Shadowheart (besides being a gremlin in general at first lol) thinks Serena is probably the easiest to manipulate in the group (her other options are Astarion and Lae’zel- and those are non starters). She mistakes Serena’s kindness for naivety, I think. Serena is…exhausted by all these…unique…personalities 💀 she has a worm in her head and a very opinionated Sharran in her ear

-Still, they exchange some not so subtle stares at camp, their first couple of evenings together. Shadowheart pretends not to look at Tav when she insists on sparring with Lae’zel to stay sharp. Tav pretends not to look when Shadowheart comes out in her haute couture Sharran full body lingerie 😭 they both fail miserably!! The constant thirsting/staring game begins!!

-I actually think Shadowheart falls first. She intended to simply use Tav to get rid of the worm. She didn’t count on Tav being so…good 🫠

-When Astarion bites Tav- it’s Shadowheart who reacts most viscerally. Everyone thinks it’s just her threatening to stake a vampire for her own safety, but…she’s jealous!!!

-when they meet Wyll, (not the first time for Tav!)- he accidentally outs her as a member of one of the patriar families of Baldur’s Gate. He’s happy to see a familiar face, but…Cue the ridicule from those who think she’s a soft ass noble playing dress up as a knight. Shadowheart and some of the others are downright mean about it. Still, Shadowheart takes note of her prowess during the fight outside the grove. She’s interested, now. Then Tav goes on to give all she has to the Tiefling kids and joins Wyll on teaching them to fight. Shadowheart starts to see her priorities and…likes them secretly 😭

-They find themselves drawn to each other, regardless. When Shadowheart shows true fear before a wolf, it’s Tav who steps in front of her and gently tugs her away. During long walks, she and Tav often find themselves side by side. Tav doesn’t pry- but her stoicism fades with time. She tells Shadowheart little stories of her time in Cormyr. Shadowheart, in turn, begins to confide in her. They sit together at the camp fire. They don’t touch, just yet. But the longing is building. Still, Shadowheart isn’t afraid to let her hear it when she disagrees- and boy, do they squabble.

-Shadowheart doesn’t intervene when Tav is whipped for Loviatar’s blessing or w/e- like I mentioned before, that breeds resentment. Tav is getting whiplash from Shadowheart. Sometimes she’s so sweet, so soft…and then she reverts back to cruelty, taking pleasure in others’ pain. She heals Tav’s wounds, and feels guilty. She’s realizing Tav is not a simple amusement, to be discarded right after use. She has…real feelings for her 😅 she’s drawn to Tav’s kindness and wants to return the favor, and this puts her at odds with Shar’s teachings

-The party is still their first kiss and first “date” if you will. Shadowheart plays coy but appreciates Serena remembering so much about her. She’s…touched, as much as she is attracted.

-At this point, they’re something of a fledgling couple. The group knows, of course- but Shadowheart does NOT entertain Tav publicly. They’re flirting, stealing kisses behind tents, taking long walks together at night, anything away from prying eyes. Shadowheart doesn’t want anybody questioning her faith…Shar included. Still, Shadowheart wants Tav all to herself. She doesn’t like when the other members of the group cozy up to her. She’s conflicted.

-the push into the Shadow Cursed lands puts a little distance between them. When Shadowheart is all ecstatic about Shar protecting her from the curse, Serena points out that she isn’t protected, along with the others. Shads hits her with “you’re resourceful, you’ll figure it out” 😅. That hurts, a lot- given their new relationship. her obsession with Shar frightens Tav to an extent, but she understands Shadowheart is indoctrinated. It’s hard to reconcile how sweet she is in one moment , with how cruel she can be in the next. Tav tells Shadowheart she feels her pulling away. Shadowheart agrees.

-The trials and their conclusion absolutely wreck Shadowheart, of course. Shar has abandoned her. In her hour of need, at her lowest point- Tav tells her how proud she is 🥹💕 she swears to Shadowheart that she may not have Shar, but she will always have her, if that’s what she wants. Shadowheart hasn’t known unconditional love like this before. She wants Tav fully, she’s tired of denying herself happiness.

-The night on the beach is their first time sleeping together. I considered changing this in the timeline- but I think it works beautifully. Shadowheart is genuinely frightened to be swimming- she would only do that with someone she was truly in love with.

-from there, they’re quite public about their relationship. Shadowheart changes her look to reflect her new lot in life. Tav adores it, adores her. Shadowheart softens. It’s a lot more domestic and sweet. This would pretty much put them around the beginning of act 3, give or take! Tav risks everything with Shadowheart to get her parents back. Things are really looking up for them 🥰

This brings us to the point where the NLS series picks up!

[baldurs-gape]

Hello! I just finished your fic Shores and wanted to let you know I‘m working on fanart for chapter 7. You have a wonderful writing style and it was a fun read! https://www.tumblr.com/twicethekid/754939992930926592/wip-making-another-barbie-to-dress-up-inspired?source=share

Not going to lie, I have been thweeping like an idiot over this. Art, wonderful, amazing, talented art was inspired by my little story?! Do you have any idea how utterly mind blowing that is?! This is basically the highlight of my year, nay decade! I don't know quite how to put into words my delight and thanks. So I'll fall back on my usual method and offer you a ficlet in the hopes it brings you some joy. This one's been on my mind for a little while because some of Gale's lines in the game are unhinged no matter what angle you look at them from.

Unleash Me

Devotion was the thing most gods sought in their followers. Not just to themselves but to their cause, a dedication that went beyond worship and strayed into fanaticism. It formed the basis of who became their Chosen, those who excelled and Gale did indeed excel. Not only did he have a gift with the Weave, he pursued perfection with a single-minded focus. Of course he caught Mystra's attention. She reveled in his determination, his ability to step on anyone to get what he wanted and have no remorse about it. He was ruthless, stubborn and did as Mystra asked because it was the path to the top.

The problem with gods was they didn't think mortals were ever more than crumbs on the tablecloth of time. They were fascinating at times, useful at others but nothing more than a speck. Sometimes those specks needed a bit more guidance, a tighter leash and Gale was one such speck. His thirst for ultimate control was heady but relentless. Mystra laid out rules, laws for him to keep him in his place. No meddling with the Shadow Weave. No searching for lost parts of the Weave from when it shattered. Yet Gale was insatiable. He pestered, begged, snooped around despite her stern warnings. Even bedding Gale, taking him as a lover was only enough to quiet his curiosity for a mere few years. Only when he returned with the Karasite Weave did Mystra understand her own failure and her willingness to overlook the danger Gale posed in favour of luxuriating in his devotion. Truthfully, Gale didn't worship Mystra, he worshipped her power.

There was only one thing Mystra could do. The Karasite Weave embedded in Gale's chest stripped him of so much of his abilities, ate away at what he valued the most. It should have humbled him, broken him and put him back in his place as nothing more than a mortal who enjoyed the favours of a goddess. The plan was all well and good but Gale had a knack for going against almost everything anyone ever tried to foist onto him. Mindflayers, nautiloids, tadpoles and a collection of strangers who all had their own brand of bloodthrist derailed all of Mystra's careful plotting.

The company Gale found himself in was, on the surface, polite, pleasant and rather average. Except they were all killers. Karlach had fought in the Blood Wars and was seething at Zariel, imagined the revenge she'd take for having her heart taken. By contrast, mild and proper mannered Wyll had stopped at nothing to get back in his father's good graces. Ridding the Swordcoast of evil, protecting the innocent, it all sounded so very noble. But the path he walked was drenched in blood and death as he executed justice the way he (and Mizora) deemed fit. Given that Shadowheart was a Sharran worshipper, no more needed to be said about her. Lae'zel was a warrior, a soldier who could be pointed at the enemy and deployed with lethal precision. Given how quick she was to abandon her lich queen in favour of supporting Orpheus' cause, she was as merciless as the rest of them. The last one left was Astarion, who revealed all too quickly his desire to kill Cazador for all he'd done over the last two centuries. In a way, Gale stood no chance.

In a camp full of people comfortable with killing, intent on helping each other achieve their goals of murder, revenge and redemption, Gale's hard learned lessons about remorse, boundaries and punishment melted away. As did his restraint. By the time they were storming the goblin camp he had looked Wyll in the eye and demanded "unleash me" with no hint of irony or joking. For some reason Wyll agreed to such a dramatic demand and they all lived with zero regrets. Unflinching, Gale killed indiscriminately, he even sent Astarion a cheeky grin and growled "let me recite their demise" before casting Shatter with devastating result. The only reason Minthara was knocked out rather than outright killed was because Karlach had bashed her over the head before Gale could get to her.

Perhaps that was why Astarion felt so at ease around Gale to the point that he even agreed to let the man tag along one night when he went hunting. Being an elf meant he already had better senses than humans. To put vampirism on top of that was to finehone something already well above average. Which was why he knew that Gale was aroused as he took down a boar. Maybe Astarion didn't help matters by trying to put on a bit of a show, enjoying the fact he didn't have to hide this part of himself, delighting in being appreciated for who he was.

"Next time I think I'll try for a bear," he announced casually.

Later, back at camp, he was somewhat smug at the fact Gale was frantically getting himself off. By human standards he was quiet, near enough silent but Astarion heard.

Storming Moonrise was about as intense as expected. Gale's soft growl of "death is but a word away" shouldn't have been as enticing as it was. Especially when it was followed by a shard of ice exploding and embedding in anyone unlucky enough to be in the vicinity. The thing that caught Astarion's attention was how Gale edged around the fight. Staying in the shadows and keeping out of the fray was not his style at all. Sure, he tended to stay at the edge more so he had room to work his spells and wasn't in easy reach of a hefty smack but this was different. Their eyes met and Gale smiled before dipping into the room the drow had been in. Curiosity got the better of Astarion, the others had a good handle on the fight. He followed.

Gale had Araj caught in the purple of Hold a Person, eyes dark with rage. Whatever he'd been saying, Astarion had clearly walked in on the tail end of it to only hear "-I don't appreciate such an attitude." Head slowly turning, he smiled at Astarion with the boyish charm of someone caught doing something naughty.

Something dark fluttered in Astarion's chest at the sight. "Just what is going on here? I don't play with my food."

"She's not worthy to be even considered such a thing." Smile darkening, Gale shrugged. "I didn't like how she dismissed your personhood and ignored your firm denial. Wanted to be sure she wasn't going to repeat the mistake again."

"So you were what, going to kill her?"

A shiver visibly passed through Gale as his eyes slipped shut for a brief moment. Gaze bright as he stared at Astarion, he inhaled. "You'd want me to kill for you?" He shook his head a little and cleared his throat. "Let me kill for you."

Five little words, 15 letters and yet they lit Astarion up like nothing before ever had. Swallowing thickly, he nodded.

"Do it."

"I speak, she burns," Gale rumbled and flicked a hand almost carelessly to fling a fireball. Neither of them watched Araj go down, too lost in a brutal kiss that left lips bruised and nicked by sharp teeth.

Foreheads resting together, Gale panted into their shared space. "I'd do it again if you asked."

"Really?"

"You know I'll ask."

"Direct me."

"Cazador."

"He'll be nothing but dust. His power will be yours to take."

Astarion kissed him again for that before pulling back but keeping his arms around Gale's shoulders, holding him close still.

"If I do, I'll want you by my side."

"As a spawn?"

"No. An equal. A god." Licking his lips, Astarion was fuelled by a strange frenzy. "I won't take less for a partner. Prove to me you want this. Take the Crown of Karsus. Kill Mystra."

For a moment everything froze. Gale's breathing halted, his eyes stared unblinking, lips parted.

"Whatever you need, you only have to ask."

Astarion kissed him again, battle be damned. They were going to have plenty more opportunities to bask in the blood of others. But this was the first time Astarion felt powerful, felt like he was worshipped. And when he ascended rather than Cazador, the only thing he could possibly want more than power was to be worshipped by a god. Yes, Gale was going to be perfect. They were going to be perfect.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Im so normal about this man I swear

vampire spawn!tav x astarion

rated: m (just to be safe tbh)

mostly this all inspired by dnd vampire spawn character sheets and vtm vampire stuff

It is rare but not unheard of for the hunger, the cost of eternity binding all vampires, turns some into feral beasts. Some become mindless-- Most become mindless thralls used like cannon fodder-- But some embrace it. When the hunger becomes too much, when you are near the brink of death, when threatened into a corner: the beast comes out. A roaring lion lurking in the shadows with claws out and teeth bared, he has to admit that part of you had unnerved him. Feral beasts are not so easily controlled, especially when he was not the one who turned you.

But he found a way to slip a collar on you.

When the beast becomes too much when you slaughtered the goblins in the Blighted Village. Climbing on walls, claws ripping into foul flesh, when fangs are used to only tear apart throats. You were in a dazy, the state of in-between sanity and hunger-driven insanity.

He brought you back, with that charming smile and sweet poisonous voice-- You fear he has you ensnared as your master has. He was-- is-- Handsome and you easily fell for the gentleman who showed interest in you. Small village, a person who wanted to fly out of the nest, and a fancy-dressed man who promised to show the world if you trusted him. You trusted him like you trust the vampire who smiles like an actor performing in the show of his life. Maybe, no, he is doing just that.

Back at camp, you praise the Gods no one saw you. You had bathed, skin still raw from the scrubbing and smell of citrus from the bath oil you crafted. The armor is a mess for the blood but that is not unusual. You pray the blood either dries and flakes off or is washed off by the rain at some point. Returning to camp in your campsite clothes with the white-haired rogue who plays it off as ‘friendly chat’ does not make you happy. The only friend of sorts is Shadowheart. Maybe because you respected her beliefs and she respected you in return, who knows, you just know you need to seek her out. A follower of Shar is comforting when she talks about the teachings of loss… To let go.

Darkness and loss go hand in hand.

There is a nudge in your mind, a soft nudge as you smile and brush off the worry in Wyll’s voice.

You know his touch in your mind, the way it brushes against you like the way the hands of a lover subtlety hint for the other to find them later.

Only he is not your lover and if you were mean-spirited, you would call him your blood donor.

Instead, you are grateful to him and you let him slip into your mind. A whisper, a hit of concern, and an excuse for you to make later.

Later comes too soon.

“I don’t know. It sometimes just happens.” He is not happy, he thinks you are trying to starve yourself because of guilt. “I was one moment walking and then…”

You show him, bare yourself for judgment. When you go back to kick your feet slowly in the river with the kindred beside you carefully sitting close but not too close to the river to get wet. When the memory shared ends with seeing him holding your face he sighs.

“I am no teacher,” Throwing his hands in the air, “Honestly, most would be rampaging and be killed by a hunter.” You frown upon hearing those words. When will you go too far? When will Wyll have to turn his blade to you? “There has to be--”

“I’m scared.”

Those red eyes fall to you, slightly wide open not expecting you to outright say something so vulnerable. The silence that follows is one from shock, Astarion lying on the ground staring up at the night sky with too many stars for his liking. His hand folded over his stomach.

“We will figure this out.” He needs you on his side, better to be in pairs than in a pack against him, or you because they will not just stop at you. “Trust me.” Being kind is odd and you laugh so softly the sound of the river nearly drowns it out. Turning your head in his direction next to you, a pat of your hand on his hand.

“Of course, as far as you want.”

[baby-pink-flowers]

Spoiler warning. Warning for talk of physical abuse, manipulation, neglect

My headcanons for Modern Shadowheart. Shar is her adoptive mother and forcefully changed her name to Shadowheart and forced her to call her lady Shar instead of mom. She was forced into Shar's beliefs, and if she didn't complain, she would be beaten. Shar is also a cult leader and forced shadowheart to be in the cult. Shar made shadowheart think she was a good mom and that the abuse and neglect were normal

Her and Lae'zel bonded over their simpler upbringings and soon realized they have a lot in common and fall in love. (I love them❤️😊)

She is a witch as in she practices witchcraft. She believes in reincarnation.

She was emo but now is very goth

Shadowheart has been to a lot of therapy to work through her C-PTSD so she can stop the cycle of abuse for her and lae'zel's daughter.

Shadowheart likes to crochet. She made a little frog hat for lae'zel because ,"she looks like one," said shadowheart

She made a beanie for their daughter

My headcanons for Modern Lae'zel. Lae'zel has a very large family, and her family told her that showing happiness and any emotion other than anger was a sign of weakness, and her being the oldest had to be strong for her siblings.

Growing up, she didn't have a lot of money, so she couldn't get new clothes often.

She had to take care of her younger family members since all the parents were always gone.

At the age of 13, she found grunge music and fell in love with it. It really spoke to her as someone who was very poor, full of rage.

She is also very punk. Hates cops, very for equal rights for all, hates capitalism, and has punched a n@z¡.

She has also been to therapy, so she can be the best mom to her daughter, Mary'Rose (Shadowheart named her that, lae'zel said she hated it, but she actually loves it).

Sometimes, lae'zel let's Shadowheart do her makeup.

L: Must we do foundation, Shadow

S: No, but I like doing it. I'll take it off after taking some photos, sweetie

L: *griting her teeth* Fine, bebe

Lae'zel is a tomboy. Hates dress and skirts. On her wedding day, she wore a suit while shadowheart wore a black puffy dress that was all glittery.

Astarion and Gale were the best men, and Karlach and Asteria (my tav that is with Astarion) are the bridesmaids. Rozenn (Karlach's tav) is the flower girl, and Peck (the owlbear) was the ring bearer.

Lae'zel is super warm, whereas Shadowheart is super cold. Shadowheart likes to cuddle up the Lae'zel at night. Lae'zel gets a little grumpy but thinks it's kinda cute.

Shadowheart is 3 inches shorter that Lae'zel

So here is a little situation that I just thought up

S: *is cooking*

L: *wraps her arms around Shadowheart*

S: *smiles*

L: You're short.

S: Thanks, Lae'zel. Love you

L: No problem babe

She still doesn't understand sarcasm

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Lae'zel is autistic, undiagnosed until the age of 20.

Lae'zel has a condition where she has never had a period and can not get pregnant, so shadowheart had to have their daughter.

If u would like to see more of my opinions of bg3 characters, look at my modern Karlach post. I'll have Astarion soon.

Love yall ❤️

[neontokyoo]

*Slides in* so. You asked for something. (I have a female reader in mind, feel free to do write however you want.)

Imagine for whatever reason, Tav/Durge/reader is turned tiny- a chibi version of her, if you will.

How would the party carry you around? What would she wear? What if they engage in a fight? What if we include Gortash in this

I suppose Gale would put her inside a floating resilience sphere (with Boo for her protection, of course.)

Imagine trying to wrap a piece of cloth around yourself for cover; huffing and puffing due to all the effort it takes and suddenly someone Astarion pinches pinches those smol, mochi buttcheeks.

Or pushing ink, paper, books and other things around on the desk as Enver writes down his plans for leading the world to a catastrophe.

Shadowheart is not above forcing her to do a fashion show with whatever she uses as dress and clothing on her.

I'm sorry this is basically brain vomit. Doesn't stop me from sending other shit in the future tho

Sorry for the wait, I’ve been really busy this week because my husband and I are expecting to have twins really soon so I haven’t really been writing a whole lot and most of my asks are either queued or in my drafts. This was made like last minute so I hope it’s alright lol

Pairing: Fem!Durge!Tav x party (with Astarion as a love interest, I’m assuming?) ft. Gortash Genre: fluff Summary: ⬆️ Warnings: sexual themes/references to sex.

Basic Headcanons:

If Tav was tiny, I would believe that everyone has a different way to carry her.

Gale would keep her in the pocket of his robes.

Karlach and Wyll would probably carry her on their heads and just let her hold on to their horns if she needs to.

Lae’zel, Shadowheart, Minthara, Jaheira and Astarion would probably just carry her on their shoulders.

The animals, such as the owlbear cub, Scratch, and maybe even Halsin would just let her ride of either their backs or their heads.

Assuming that she’s no smaller than a hamster, Minsc and Boo would probably just let her chill in Boo’s little hamster ball until she’s needed in combat.

If we include Gortash in this, I feel like he’d just be fighting everyone over Tav all the time considering their past relationship. I mean, he’d probably love to have a pocket-sized ex, honestly. He’d just carry her around everywhere and never have to worry about anyone taking her because she’s buried and well-hidden in his pocket.

But assuming that her love interest is Astarion, it’s always an ongoing battle between her current lover and her ex-lover. She’s always being passed around between the two and fought over.

Gale likes to put her and boo inside of a floating resilience sphere and just carry her around like that.

Despite being small, she’s still pretty powerful in combat. Especially being the Dark Urge. Don’t let her looks fool you, because she’s equally as aggressive as she used to be when she was bigger.

An actual story now

Being small wasn’t the easiest. It was fun sometimes, but never easy. Especially when it comes to clothing and getting certain people’s attention.

Usually Tav’s party is able to loot the armor and clothing from their enemies after a battle, which Astarion and Shadowheart cut up and use to make armor and clothing that are small enough fit her. But there are some days where she has to figure it out herself and wrap scraps of fur, wool, or fabric around herself. But that doesn’t ever work because every time she tries to cover herself up, Astarion always ends up ripping it off, being the mildly perverted lover he is.

Of course, they can’t have sex anymore because of how small she is now, but that doesn’t mean he can’t admire her tiny little body. Right?

It was very rare for her to make DIY clothing, however, because Shadowheart was always coming up with something to dress her up in, with the help of Astarion. She’d often make Tav do little fashion shows for the clothing she and astarion made for Tav.

But when Tav isn’t with her friends, she’s usually off trying to annoy her ex-boyfriend or feeding her urges. Which is almost equally as frustrating as trying to cover herself up without having Astarion destroy everything.

She usually finds a way to climb on top of Enver’s desk. But it doesn’t usually do anything because he’s always hyper focused on terrorizing the world. She usually has to shove everything off of his desk for him to notice she’s there. But when he does notice her, she’s never able to annoy him like she wanted to. Instead he ends up being the annoying one.

[all-pacas]

bg3 characters ranked by how awful i think they'd be to live with

HALSIN: Incredible. Helps out around the house, brings up any concerns in a helpful way, gardens, rescues animals. Probably not always the best at "general communication." Like he'll just go out for groceries, runs into someone he knows, they're on their way to a meeting about cleaning up a recent oil spill, of course he'd love to tag along, and then it's been four hours and you're still waiting for him to come home with eggs?

JAHEIRA: Takes care of things, Very Much expects you to do the same and will not tolerate laziness. Doesn't think to fill you in on every aspect of her life, and doesn't expect that from you. Absolutely not clingy. A surprisingly soft touch. She will come home with a new pet or child and not take no for an answer. In fact, she'll be pissed as hell with you if you suggest you can't foster a new kid.

WYLL: Considerate, good natured, great as a roommate or as a partner. I get the vibe he'd be a little scattered, though. Like, he's not always gonna be 100% up to date on the chores, he leaves his laundry to pile up. He's an okay but not fantastic cook. He's definitely accidentally ruined a pan or two. Doesn't want to "bother" you if he's in a bad mood or troubled or upset, but probably also isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, leading to some stomping around and "I said I am FINE" annoyances, but he always gets over himself sooner rather than later. Always wants to Engage: you can't just both be sitting and doing your own thing; he wants to talk and check in.

SHADOWHEART: Absolutely Competent. Takes care of her shit and assumes you will take care of yours. Is probably the type to wash her dishes and leave yours to rot. Is capable of great passive-aggressiveness. That said, is friendly and perfectly cool with existing independently. Likes cuddling on the sofa, but only sometimes or for a little while.

KARLACH: Enthusiastic but messy. She does not keep on top of things. She cannot cook. Gives everything 120%, overwaters all the plants into oblivion. Most likely to sleep on a mattress on the floor instead of buying a bedframe. Almost always in a good mood; the times she isn't she gets over it fast. A little clingy. Has trouble letting you read or watch TV in peace, she always wants to chat or hang or sing to herself. No quiet in this house.

GALE: On the one hand, a fantastic cook. He will make sure you are always well fed. He can entertain himself, and is perfectly happy to be left alone with his books. On the other hand, every meal probably uses half the bowls and pots and pans in the house, and he does not clean. Piles of Stuff everywhere. Will go on research binges and forget the world exists. Is always super considerate and happy to pitch in, but you WILL need to remind him. Every single time. He's both wonderful and super annoying to live with.

LAE'ZEL: Bossy. Wants things just so, and you WILL do what she says. No compromises, no debate. Her standards are pretty reasonable (although she does seem like she's probably a clean freak), it's just that you have no say in it. Not a good cook. Big on Health Food/Food is Fuel.

MINSC: You're gonna parent this man. He is always good humored and cheerful and eager, but you are gonna have to remind him what to do constantly. Probably surprisingly diligent about one thing. Like he ALWAYS does laundry daily and perfectly, something like that. But putting it away? Cooking? Cleaning? Whomst?

ASTARION: Fully expects you are going to clean and tend house for him. Doesn't eat food and doesn't see the point in buying or preparing it. Has exacting standards he will not at all help maintain. Feels that the pleasure of his companionship is more than enough reward for your services. Will probably happily buy you clothes and keep you well dressed, but his tastes are incredibly gaudy so is that really a win?

[sorcerous-caress]

I know most people like roll their eyes at the girl dadifcation of male characters (I do too sometimes) but I know in my soul Wyll is a girl dad. He's practically a fairytale prince of COURSE he is going to their little tea parties and playing dress up

Those people are weak anon! What's better than a girl dad? I feel it in my bones, Wyll, Gale, Minthara and Halsin feel like absolute girl parents.

Shadowheart feels like a toxic boy mom but let's not go there.

Anyway so let's focus on Wyll. In my "how would they be as parents" fic I did imagine Wyll to have two girls when I wrote it but I kept it gender neutral at the end.

I like to imagine that the oldest girl would take after her dad, she brings a wooden sword with her everywhere and tries to act like a knight in shining armour. She is secretly very impressed by his history of adventures but tries to pretend she isn't because she wants to be even cooler than her dad.

The second one is more the princess type, she is runs to her older sister whenever she wants something.

Both of them do rope Wyll into tea parties, the youngest as the princess and the oldest as her bodyguard Knight that also must attend the tea party.

Wyll was raised as a noble, he definitely brings out all the etiquette and manners he learned from his dad. All the dances, the pinky lifting and the flattery words, his two daughters copy it with awestruck eyes.

He gets to wear a crown, he happily carries them to dance to slow music, he definitely takes them to balls and dresses them in the prettiest gowns he himself picks. He does their hair and accessories, adds small crowns and makes sure his own outfit matches theirs in colour.

He is an absolute girl dad that wakes up at 6am to do his daughters hair before school, he smiles as he helps them put their shoes one.

[busy-baker]

The final part of Darling Dhampir is posted. I couldn’t leave it on a sad note

Celebration…Read on Ao3

Juniper has a big day ahead of her and Astarion has went out of his way to plan it all, but he finds himself worrying more than being overjoyed by the occasion.

f!Tav x Astarion

Word Count: 1.5k

Everything had come together just as Astarion had envisioned. Paper streamers lined the ceiling in a vibrant rainbow, a table already filled with various sized bags and boxes sat near the entrance of their home, and a cake, four tiers with the fluffiest pink frosting and hundreds of edible flowers, sat atop the kitchen counter waiting to be cut.

A delightful squeal pierced through the pale elf’s pointed ears as he placed plates onto the dining table. With a wide grin breaking across his face, he turned to greet his wife as she carried their daughter into the room.

Juniper was clothed in a brilliant sunflower yellow dress. The puffy sleeves were adorned with tiny crystals. The tulle of the skirt was cut short with layers upon layers to form a tutu of sorts. She was sunshine personified, fitting for her warm personality.

The dhampir clapped her little hands excitedly. She repeatedly babbled out “dada” in the highest voice as they neared him, emerald eyes lighting up and several teeth showing as she smiled. Astarion never tired of seeing her enthusiasm to be held in his arms.

“If it isn’t the star of the show,” he said, taking her from her mother and hoisting her up she rested on his forearm, “You look spectacular, darling! Absolutely marvelous!” He tickled Juniper’s stomach and she giggled uncontrollably causing the vampire to chuckle along with her.

“Is this a bit much, Astarion? It’s only our friends and your mother celebrating today.” Tav looked around with a worried glance at all decorations. If one fireball were cast near their home, it would be up in flames before anyone could leave.

“A bit much? My love, if anything, it isn’t enough!” Astarion waved his hand in a flourish. He loved his wife dearly, but she was unable to see his master plan. He would leave no beam untouched with decor and no surface without a dash of confetti.

The vampire had been planning his daughter’s first birthday for many a tenday. He meticulously wrote every detail on parchment, down to the very hour that she would blow out her candles and he would wrap her in his arms as she neared the one year mark.

He was honestly beside himself as he realized his baby girl, his little one, was no longer an infant that would allow him to nuzzle her as long as he pleased.

Juniper was growing into a wild, unruly toddler. He was often playing chase, at a slowed pace, as her legs carried her as far as they would go. She communicated with words instead of cries for her needs, sometimes incessantly as he attempted to decipher the frustrated gibberish. Each day was a new experience. He was reluctant to admit he was feeling more dejected by this day than joyful.

Astarion sighed and pushed away the negative thoughts, kissing his daughter’s cheek as she rested her head on his shoulder, twirling his fingers into his hair and sucking the thumb of her other hand. Her eyes were slowly drifting closed as she began to slip in reverie before the celebration began.

__________________________________

A nightmare. The party was an absolute nightmare for Astarion. Every one of their guests had stormed through the door, fighting for possession of his very cranky daughter after her trance had been interrupted by all the commotion.

The appetizers had been torn through as if everyone were a bunch of ravenous beasts, the gift table was in shambles as it was slowly disorganized by shoddily wrapped presents, and he would never say to his wife, but he was beginning to regret the confetti as a now gleeful Juniper tossed it into the air, letting it rain down and tangled in her bouncing, silver curls to the encouraging laughs of Karlach and Shadowheart.

The elf groaned as he watched from the kitchen, leaning a bit too far back and staining his crisp, white blouse. He grabbed hold of his shirt and tried wiping the frosting away with a damp towel, but the fuchsia blot spread even more. He flung the towel into the sink with a huff.

“Wretched hells,” he mumbled, a scowl marring his handsome face.

“Everything alright, my love?”

Tav went to him, taking his face in her hands and pecking the corner of his mouth. His eyebrows softened at her touch and he bent, letting his head fall against her shoulder, defeated. Her fingers wound into his hair, toying at it, and she quietly laughed.

“Is that a no?” She asked.

“Certainly not a yes, darling.” His voice was muffled and he was sure he looked silly, pouting on his wife’s shoulder with their difference in height, but he didn’t care.

“Tell me, then. What has you so down today?”

“Couldn’t we just have a quiet night to celebrate Juniper’s birthday?”

Tav’s fingers brushed gently at Astarion’s hair. “But wasn’t this your idea?”

The vampire made a noise of disagreement. He was in no mood to be reminded of the torture he chose to inflict upon himself by throwing a party. He wanted to be whisked away with only his wife and child in tow to some place far away.

“If you could continue to soothe instead of question, it would be delightful.”

Tav lifted his head from her shoulder and stared into his claret eyes. Her own eyes filled with compassion and Astarion sunk into her grasp.

“What really has you feeling so glum, Astarion?” His wife’s thumb stroked against his cheek as she waited. He was silent for several minutes, thinking over his words.

“Juniper…,” he whispered, “She’s growing so quickly,”

“Oh, Astarion.” Tav pulled him into her arms and his own wrapped around her, hugging her close to him.

He felt relief as he uttered the words but there was an overwhelming sadness still lurking beneath. He wanted to go back and repeat the entire year, to see every moment play out once again, the good and the bad, because Juniper remained close to him.

Astarion realized as she grew, she would begin to be comfortable and put distance between them. He wanted to be able to protect her from all the horrors of the world and provide her with a place to fall into when she was feeling anything other than happy. He wasn’t ready to loosen the hold.

Tav leaned back to look at her husband and his eyes had grown watery, but he refused to let a tear fall.

“It’s difficult for me too,” Tav began, a small but sad smile on her lips, “She will grow and she will grow into someone who is strong and willful and everything we hoped she would be, but we have to allow it, my love, and accept it.”

Astarion glanced past his wife and back to where the dhampir gripped onto Wyll’s fingers as he did a little dance with her. She was giggling loudly as the other guests clapped and cheered for her. The vampire found himself smiling as he looked on.

“I suppose you’re right” Astarion kissed Tav’s forehead and began to move past her. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear.”

He walked over to join everyone, still observing the little display Wyll and Juniper were putting on. He cleared his throat and they all looked to him. Juniper stopped her dancing and let go of her partner’s hands. She ran as fast as she could and gripped his legs.

“Da da!” She yelled, staring up at him with and bursting with excitement. His undead heart felt as if it was going to burst at the seams with the love he held for her.

“Up you go, little one.” Astarion lifted her up and kissed all over her face and she returned the favor with sloppy smooches and squeezing his cheeks. “Shall we have cake now?”

The pale elf held his daughter close as everyone rushed to the dining table, paying no mind to him and his daughter. He shook his head as he followed the group.

Tav had removed the top tier of the cake and placed it on the table. She sat in a chair, holding Juniper on her lap, as they were surrounded by those closest to them. They all sung to the dhampir, very loudly and very off key, as she looked to each of them in wonder.

Astarion watched as the candle on top was blown out by Tav and the help of Juniper’s spittle. With a gentle push of encouragement from her mother, the dhampir’s hands dug into the cake, smashing it to pieces and flinging it to and fro. She managed to eventually find her mouth and shove a fistful in, smearing icing all over her lips and even getting a dollop on her nose.

The vampire felt laughter bubbling up in him until he finally let it out, fangs bared and head tilted back. He couldn’t stop himself, overcome by elation in the realization that this life he now had was one that many would envy. It was one full of adventure, bliss, surprises, and a love that was all encompassing. He was one of the luckiest creatures in Toril. No, he was the luckiest creature in Toril because no one would ever have what he held in his arms each day and night.

Astarion’s laughter died down and he stood gazing upon his wife and daughter, his world contained in those two souls.

The party was not a nightmare. In fact, it was everything he could have dreamt of and more.

[theskeletonprior]

This Tav Tale was commissioned by @void-botanist -- thanks again for your patience! Looking for a Tav Tale of your own? Look here for details.

When the invitation comes, Karlach prepares herself for a world of bullshit. The courier’s out of breath, which tells her that the poor bloke has a pretty unforgiving boss, or got paid handsomely to run up to the tavern where they’ve all been shacked up for the last little while. She flicks the courier an extra gold coin for his trouble, and heads up to the cozy—or at least bedbug free—little bedroom she’s been sharing with Niri. That’s been a treat, even if sometimes she gets so warm that they have to kick the covers off at night and sleep with the window open.

“Hey, soldier, got a letter.” Karlach tosses it on the bed, reaching out to grab a hold of Niri’s toes, give ‘em a good wiggle. “Look alive, we’re a going concern!” Niri sits up sleepily; and no surprises there, they’ve been running like it’s the Hells for weeks with no sign of slowing down.

“What’s the concern?” She rubs at her eyes, pretty as emeralds, and stifles a yawn. She’s the sweetest thing that Karlach has ever seen.

“No, no, we’re a going concern. Means people want to talk to us now. Check it out. We’ve got ourselves a formal invitation.” Karlach pulls off her boots, clambering up into bed beside Niri and hoping to fuck that Niri’s not about to tell her that it’s a follow-up letter from Gortash. She can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves her when it turns out to be some noblewoman in the know who just wants them to come by to a little get-together because she’s heard all about the raid on Moonrise Towers. She looks at Niri sidelong, and as she so often is, finds herself surprised that her partner can get any sweeter than she already is. Gods, she’s pretty. Prettier when she looks so excited.

“I’ve never been to a fancy party,” Niri says. Karlach’s still so dazzled by the stars in her eyes, she almost forgets to answer. “Karlach?”

“Oh! It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, soldier. Food’s usually good, though. We’ll line your bag, take a pheasant or two to go.” Niri’s excitement dampens at that, the corners of her mouth turning down, pretty stars fading just enough to make Karlach want to walk her assessment back.

“We don’t have to go,” Niri says, but Karlach knows she’s just being her kind self.

“Aw, c’mon, no need to let me off easy. Besides, how long’s it been since we ate for free?” Niri’s expression brightens again, and it takes everything Karlach has in her not to grab her up and squeeze her. “What’s say we go out on the town, rustle up something to wear, hey, soldier?”

It’s game on after that. Everyone in their merry band has something to say about fancy dress, and what to do at a party. Gale knows his way around quality textiles; Astarion knows a tailor. Lae’zel, bless her, knows how to kill a man with a fish fork, and Shadowheart has tips on how to look like you’re putting away as much wine, or more, than your fellow guests. Wyll has advice on dancing, though he likes to pretend he’s not any good (this, Karlach knows, is a play in order to exceed expectations). All of Minsc’s advice comes to them by hamster, but Jaheira has a lesson about the virtue of good shoes—“Just in case you need to make a run for it.” And perhaps most valuably, Halsin has a concoction he swears will hangover-proof them. Karlach tries to get that recipe off him, but he’s canny, that old druid, and he’s never written it down.

If she were in Niri’s shoes, she’d probably be overwhelmed, but their fearless leader takes it all in like an absolute champion. It’s a whirlwind of a day, and they haven’t even gotten to the meat of it yet. Karlach’s more worried about what she’ll do when she sees Niri in that dress she picked than what will happen at some ponce’s little party. Just the thought gets her ticker a little fired up.

“All right, you can open your eyes,” Niri says gently, and Karlach dares to look. It feels like a soul coin’s been dropped in her engine. Niri has her hair pulled up into a loose tail, and the dress, oh gods, the dress. It’s cut low in the front and back, just barely clinging to Niri’s shoulders, a shimmery pale blue like the sky in midsummer.

“Fuck yeah.” Karlach can’t contain herself. She closes the distance, lifting Niri and spinning her gorgeous self in a circle. “It’s perfect, baby. Ready to go? Lady What’s-Her-Name sent us a ride.” Niri smiles warmly, throwing her arms around Karlach’s neck, leaning in close so that their horns knock lightly together.

“Might want to put me down first.” Karlach gives Niri a squeeze, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek, and much as she’d rather hold her forever, she sets her back down.

“All right, soldier. Let’s go get fed.”

With the afternoon they’ve had, it’s too easy to get excited, which makes the come down even worse as Karlach begins to realize this is not the kind of poncy party that at least has dancing and an open bar. It’s a dinner party. The kind with talking and an entire compliment of forks to kill a man with, let alone one just for the fish. They’re both out of their depth on this one, nodding along in their own way. The discomfort is palpable, and only gets worse when some over-dressed peacock decides he has something completely asinine he wants to say in front of the entire gathering.

“I must say I’m surprised to see such mettle from two tieflings. Why, I thought your people only cared for themselves.” Niri starts up in her chair but Karlach puts a hand on the back of her wrist, patting gently twice.

“I got this one, baby,” she murmurs, plucking up a bottle of wine from the table. “Suppose, sir, you’ll have to re-evaluate that one.” She pads around to the blithering jerkbag who’s decided to run his mouth, topping up his glass. She lets her fire warm the wine. Not too hot; it’d be a real trouble to kill the man here in front of everyone. Just enough to scald a little. She ignores him when he tries to indicate that that’s enough, pours the glass full up and then some, steaming hot wine slopping onto the tablecloth. “Whoopsie-daisy!” The rest, she dumps out right across his lap. That’ll give him something to yip about. In a moment that she’ll later call a ‘full-on stroke of genius’ she snatches the roast bird off the table and bolts around to Niri, who’s already on her feet.

“Leg it!” As it turns out, Jaheira’s advice had been the soundest. It’s almost like she knew this could happen to them specifically. The good shoes give them a huge advantage. With the pheasant under one arm, and Niri’s hand in hers, Karlach makes a run for it, laughing madly. This isn’t the first time they’ve had to flee for their lives, but it immediately becomes Karlach’s favorite occasion for such an urgent hustle. After escaping a nautiloid, and an actual mindflayer hideaway, this is easy as pie. Almost second nature. Niri’s grip tightens on her hand, dragging her into an alleyway where they pass a couple of moments, crowded too close, breathing softly together as the guards rush past them. Niri breaks first, covering her mouth to smother a laugh.

“Well,” she sighs, “that was a bit of a let-down. Guess I should have taken your word for it.” Karlach’s expression crinkles with immediate regret for her forewarning. Had she set them up for this?

“Hey, live ‘n’ learn, right? It’s not on you. That was an especially shitty party.” She’s about to open her big fat mouth to apologize, but that’s when she hears it. The stomping of boots in a tavern, and the raucous voice of a bard. That’s a sound that can save the night. She leans in to knock horns, meeting Niri’s bright, bright eyes. “Fancy another go?” Niri smiles back up at her, opens her bag, and says something that reminds Karlach that true love isn’t just something made up by poets.

“Put your pheasant away. Let’s go dancing."

[sorcerous-somebody]

Rowan 🌕

Race: Half Wood Elf

Class: Circle of the Moon Druid

Pronouns: they/them

Age: 38

Background: Outlander

Romance partner(s): Shadowheart & Halsin

More notes under the cut (contains BG3 spoilers)

My notes:

Rowan is based on a character from a very short-lived D&D campaign. I didn't have much of a story for them until I put them in BG3 and let my mind go wild.

They were raised as a noble in Baldur's Gate. Their father ran away from noble life for a while, had a kid with a wood elf, and decided to return to Baldur's Gate with the kid. Rowan's childhood was spent mostly locked away, their extended noble family was afraid of the social repercussions of having a child born out of wedlock (and the child being being a half-elf).

Once Rowan became of age though, the family changed its tune and began parading Rowan around like some sort of exotic pet to be married off to the best bidder (yikes). Rowan chose to leave the city when an arrangement was made and their family refused to tell them who it even was.

They had been planning to leave ever since discovering a hidden chest full of letters addressed to them over the years from their mother. They set off on an adventure to track her down. While Rowan did not end up finding their mother, they did find a druidic circle that took them in and taught them survival skills. They lived with that circle for many years, up until they got kidnapped by mindflayers.

Rowan actively despises wearing dresses or anything feminine due to their upbringing.

No one can guess their age. In camp one night, everyone is shocked when Rowan says they're 38. Half-elf genes and being a druid definitely contributes to them looking that young.

During the events of BG3, Rowan really connected with Shadowheart, especially when she expressed care for animals. But they did struggle to get past her Sharran tendencies. Rowan became completely smitten though when Shadowheart threw the spear away of her own volition in the Shadowfell.

Rowan also had a small fling with Astarion, but they both decided he would be better off with a friend, not a lover. The little asshole still made a comment about how defeating Cazador would be the "second most satisfying" thing they had done together though. -_-

They have green vine tattoos on their neck and face that fade quickly over time if they are not with their circle. Only druids know how to "refresh" the tattoos. I used the magic mirror to make them look more faded over my playthrough, until their night with Halsin. Rowan came back from that night somehow feeling both refreshed and exhausted ;)

Rowan refused to use the tadpoles at all and was very disgusted by what they saw as the Emperor's attempts at manipulation. Unsuprisingly, Orpheus ended up as the mindflayer again in this playthrough.

They still want to try to find their mother, but they suspect a note from they found in the cursed Shadowlands is from her (the handwriting matched her other letters). She likely died to the shadow curse, unfortunately.

Shadowheart chose to save her parents, and they all live in a cottage together with lots of rescued animals post-game. I like to think the cottage is near the formerly cursed Shadowlands so they can visit Halsin and help with the children sometimes.

I changed their hair each act to show that they were growing it out, pics below.

Starting off strong trying to save their future girlfriend (I reloaded):

Platonic Sad boy hours with Gale:

The main squad for this playthrough:

Shadowheart giving her blessing to climb Mount Halsin:

Forehead smooches from Halsin:

(Shadowheart's kisses are mostly broken for me, unfortunately. I submitted a bug report today.)

Confronting the brain:

That's all I've got on them for now, I may edit to add more as I think of things!

[blackjackkent]

@zenjestrr said:

speaking of the lantern, try inspecting it

Oh shit ty for the reminder! I noticed that was an action option on the lantern and meant to check it a bit back and then forgot.

Whatcha got for me, buddy?

Narrator: The lantern gives off a chilly glow, protecting all in its vicinity from the surrounding shadows. You notice a tiny pixie trapped within. [INTELLIGENCE] These fey creatures are infamous for their trickery - sometimes playful, sometimes malicious.

Hm. Well that's a bit fucked up.

Having been noticed, the pixie begins to speak, in a high squeaky voice with great urgency. "Oh please, oh golly, me-oh-my! You must release me or I'll die! This lantern only lights the way when I am hurting night and day!"

It would probably be better for the pixie if Hector hadn't JUST been dealing with all of Raphael's weird rhymes as well. As it is, between that and his own intelligence check, he is skeptical.

He does get a cleric line here though. [GOOD CLERIC] "You poor thing, why would someone hurt you so?"

(A/N: I don't remember ever picking an alignment for Hector. I'm assuming the GOOD modifier there comes from Selune? Or is it based on actions Hector's taken thus far?)

"My pixie dust is bright as day; my injuries can light the way!" squeaks the pixie.

Karlach frowns. "I know the feeling," she says sadly. "We've got to set her free."

Well. That settles that; after hearing Karlach's perspective on it, he's hardly going to do anything else - but it doesn't change the fact that they need this lantern or they're all going to get obliterated by the curse (except maybe Shadowheart). They need more information.

"Who are you?" Hector asks the pixie.

"My name?" squeaks the pixie. "My name is Dolly thrice. Now won't you free me from this vice?"

Hector rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully. "I need protection from this curse," he says cautiously. "If I release you, will you help me travel through the shadows?"

The pixie's voice jumps yet another octave in excitement. "It would be my pleasure, truly! Once I'm freed I'll help you duly!"

Hector glances at the others uncertainly. This feels like a terrible idea - it's all too possible that the thing is tricking them. But it goes against his own instincts to leave a thinking creature imprisoned like this, even for his own benefit, and even if it didn't, Karlach's hangdog, worried expression would be enough to convince him. He can't let anything stand that puts that expression on her face.

Release the pixie.

The cage of the lantern swings open and the pixie erupts outwards from it, the glow around her fading as she moves. She settles into the air at his eye level - a woman's form, purple in both skin and dress.

"FINALLY!" she cries. Freed from her prison, she is no longer putting on a squeaky, innocent act; her voice is about two octaves lower now, and coarse as sandpaper. "Been trapped in that coffin with no one but a mad drider and my own farts for company." She squints at Hector thoughtfully. "Did me a good turn there, didn't you? What do I owe you?"

"I need to get through this shadow curse," Hector repeats patiently, watching anxiously for any sign that the tiny creature is going to abandon them. "Can you help?"

"Sure, I caaaan," she says cheerfully. "But will I?"

She waits just long enough to watch the expression of alarm flash onto Hector's face. Then she laughs. "Yeah, sure, why not."

"Here. Give this bell a shake, speak the magic words, and you'll get what you've earned. Protection from the shadow curse; what more could a dingus want?"

Turning, she zips off into the darkness without waiting for a response. "You're welcome!"

True to her word, everyone on the team now has an (apparently permanent) buff:

This is actually huge, since it means Hector no longer has to carry the moonlantern as his active equipment and can stop doing unarmed strikes in combat in dark areas. A little less ideal for anyone in the Harpers who was expecting to use this lantern when/if we get back, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

[wellfell]

 while he doesn't look pleased with declaration of her age , he doesn't show the tiniest effort in trying to stop this gullible young woman from getting this close to him . a small smile on her lips , the scent of night flowers and trees filling the air , she wants to bite his nose to catch his attention — thankfully , she doesn't . not a clever thing to do when the girl hovering over you craves attention like she craves to live . and he doesn't even open his eyes , only his leg moves , and akina looks up momentarily to see it . long legs , very long , she's noticed him walk slower sometimes to match her pace when the group is in a hurry . . . how sentimental . her eyes roll , she looks back down at him with a tilted head .

 most had thought she was either too skinny or too pretty to handle a knife , and that had encouraged them to do weird things . it's always been so easy to wrap their hands around her thin neck , and akina never had the upper hand regarding her strength , so she's learned how to swiftly work with knives . a kitchen knife , blades , and finally , twin swords . ❛ good men bore me . ❜  and she scares them , they often run away . not that she's tried anything serious ever since she ran from her mansion , unless there were some manipulation and benefits involved . they'd say she tastes like sugar , and too much sugar isn't good for you . sugar coated poison , something you can't even hold in your mouth for too long when you lick the sugar off it — licking . her mind goes back to the little trick he did on her arm , thinks about how his teeth didn't even graze her wounded flesh , how careful he was .

 it's not done without a warning , it's nothing to startle him or perhaps that's the worst thing you can do to a vampire that's refusing to open his eyes . but she does it anyway ; leans down impossibly close , puckers her plump lips and kisses the tip of his sharp nose before moving away again . back to her spot , eyes briefly glinting – playful . she did it because she felt like doing it , simple , a creature of pleasure and impulse . that's what's saved her in a world like this , yeah ? ❛ hmm . let's say i killed my husband . i got annoyed . he thought marriage on paper meant it's okay not to keep your dirty little paws to yourself . ❜  and she did , she's glad she did . shadowheart would be surprised to hear so many words spilling from her mouth , she called her a mouse a few days ago because she was too quiet – unless astarion was around . something akina did on instinct , not even knowing she was doing it . ❛ but i'm sure i could seduce you . i was prettier . i had both my eyes . and i wore pretty dresses . ❜  a small twitch to her nose , she picks up a tiny , yellow flower and starts plucking its petals . ❛ are you going to carry me to the camp ? did you make my fire ? hm ? ❜

twenty-six years, she says.  he crinkles his nose, like a waft of vinegar just hit.  it’s an act; he doesn’t mind her age, but he cannot be openly accepting of it.  he’s already been told he’s a creep once today.  twice would just be mortifying.  “most are, sweetheart. and because i am sure you’re dying to know: physically, i’ve got thirteen years on you.”  the physical is all he really wants to think about;  tangible stuff. things he can experience now... not ways he fucked up then.

but was he a good man.  she wants to know. he lays on the question a while;  a good while.  it takes him so long to decide that there’s eventually a rustle in the grass.  he does not budge or open his eyes, even if some part of his mind flinches in paranoia of her driving a foot against him—imagining he’s ignoring her, or bored, or something else that rubs her the wrong way.  he’d have to retaliate.  maybe throw her over his shoulder, redden her backside the entire march back to camp.  he is almost certain the others would never welcome either of them in again. she doesn’t kick or step on him, which is good because, as it turns out, astarion isn’t bored.  akina is just a weird and oddly pointed little girl tonight ...  who radiates more heat than she probably knows. fingers lace over his stomach, one leg sliding out of its bend on the grass. he decides he won't open his eyes soon. or address the tickle of her hair sliding over him. merely, he will purse his lips, and keep pondering a while.

a while ends short. “men who don’t accept a ‘no’ are precisely the type i’d send to the gallows.” his top lip curls in disgust, jaw clenching. “i can play the role of a good man for you whenever, if that’s what you like.  but if i am being honest?  bad and good, in the morality sense, don’t really exist for me.  it’s all mere ... preference. mood. taste.”  and when he considers taste, there’s that of her embedded still in the cracks of his lips.  he wonders what kind of man she would think he is if he told her she tastes like a wild cherry, sweet and tangy and forbidden; wonders what she’d do if he said he thinks of wrapping his tongue around hers like a cherry stem at least three times a day. maybe she’d slap him. maybe he’d deserve it. maybe he’d like it. maybe ... he should stop thinking all things and just go wash off in the river. she can join and explain why she let those goblins get the jump on her earlier. “... too pretty for the gallows.”  he is half crooning, half snickering at the idea. pink-lipped, doe-eyed little thing, accused of murder? stop his heart. that's too intriguing. he would have been absolutely smitten. “who’d you kill? in this hypothetical.”  he’s thinking maybe it isn’t hypothetical, thinking maybe he does not need to know, but apparently cannot help himself. if he is playing with fire, it is her fault for not coming back to enjoy the one he built for her. “i’d have to take that into consideration. and what he did. maybe he deserved it. maybe he’s someone better off dead.”