#frontier tavern

[trevisos]

realizing for timeline reasons it’s entirely possible though not extremely likely that wyll would actually recognize xarrai lol

[dndsettingsinfo]

Goldshire [60×43] by Sanctum of Maps

[weaveandwood]

Midnight at the Elfsong

Pairing: Gale x Female Tav Words: 3.6K, NSFW Summary: After arriving at the Elfsong Tavern a few nights ago, Gale and Tav spend the night drinking with their friends and reconnect after facing the realities of their new sleeping situation. AN: Here is the Community Choice Smut One-Shot you all voted for to help me celebrate 300 followers! I hope you like it - I really am pleased with the options that won my poll! Winning Prompts: A whispered "please" slipping out of kiss-bitten lips & Held back noises because they don't want anyone else hearing them

comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

Warnings: NSFW (fingering, vaginal sex)

Midnight was a magical time when one was drinking. It was late enough that everyone was in high spirits, yet not so late as to really regret anything the next day. Tav’s new favorite way of passing any evening she wasn’t utterly exhausted was with all of her friends sitting around a large table at the Elfsong Tavern while wine flowed from the bar. Taking a long swig from her cup, she felt a hand brush along the outside of her leather clad thigh before resting on it, halfway between her knee and her hip. She smiled into her cup, glancing at the handsome wizard seated next to her. Of all the times to find love, it never crossed her mind that an abduction by mindflayers would lead her to someone like Gale of Wat- no, Gale Dekarios, as she had learned a couple of days ago on the rooftop in Rivington. She rolled it around in her mind. Dekarios. She meant what she had told him as he pleaded with her to keep it secret - she liked Gale Dekarios better than Gale of Waterdeep.

“Have I ever told you how much I love the leather pants you favor?” his warm voice said softly in her ear, sending a tingle through her body that settled deep in her abdomen. She sat her drink down and turned to face him while the rest of the group was watching an arm wrestling match between Wyll and Halsin. She thought she saw Astarion taking bets in her periphery.

“Only every morning. And every night, before you take them off of me,” she smiled wickedly. She knew from the look in his eyes that he was in a certain kind of mood this evening. She didn’t blame him - she was as well. Staying at the Elfsong, while nice, was also…tricky. They were staying in a large communal room with no privacy at all. She never thought she would miss a tent, but after two nights spent alone…she missed her tent. She missed her bedroll. She missed Gale’s weight on top of her. 

She felt his fingertips slide higher up her thigh, the one thing on his mind now the only thing on hers. Cheers erupted as Halsin bested Wyll, his fists above his head pumping in celebration. A small line of would-be contenders for the arm wrestling champion began to form, each hoping for their chance to take on and beat the ridiculously muscled elf. Gale and Tav clapped and cheered as a defeated but laughing Wyll walked over with his head hung low, Karlach following closely behind.

“I must say, Wyll, you lasted much longer than I would have,” Gale said, pouring some of the nearest bottle of wine into Wyll’s cup before raising his own. “A toast to the Blade of Frontiers, for inspiring the competitions we are all about to witness,” he said, motioning with his eyes to the person currently straining red-faced against Halsin.

Tav leaned in while everyone was sipping their wine after the toast. “I certainly have no complaints about how long you last,” she whispered, smiling to herself when he choked a little on his wine before straightening back up in her chair and refilling her cup with the remains of a bottle. 

The night passed, wine flowing from bottle to cup to mouth, laughter filling the main room of the Elfsong. Gale’s fingers had traversed nearly every inch of Tav’s thigh and were currently snaking under her shirt, toying with her soft skin around the waistband of those leather pants he loved so much. Tracing featherlight circles on her spine. Making her body feel like a coil ready to snap. If she could, she would clear off the table and ride him into oblivion right then and there. 

She reached over, her fingertips brushing his thigh through his pants - a sturdy canvas that fit him well. She made sure to tease him in exactly the same way as he did earlier, slowly moving her hand closer and closer to his hips. She could not resist the temptation to brush across where she could feel the fabric starting to strain against him, his sharp intake of breath indicating her teasing was working. It pleased her to know that her touch had that effect. That it wasn’t just her who felt like she was on fire. He reached across her, his arm brushing against her breasts as he grabbed a bottle of wine before filling both their cups, the small hint of contact causing her to gasp softly.

He looked at her from the corners of his eyes while sipping from his wine, his fingers resuming their lazy journey across her lower body from their previous location on her back. They traced a slow, agonizing path around her, using the waistband of her suddenly too-tight leather pants as a guide. Goosebumps trailed across her soft, sensitive skin in the wake of his touch. She was intently focused on each sensation - the prickling of her skin, the heat of his fingers, the din of the Elfsong becoming muted as her heart pounded in her ears. Everything was amplified, everything was beginning to become too much.

Karlach leaned across the table and began a conversation with Gale, though from the way he applied slightly more pressure as he reached the fastenings of her pants, Tav never would have guessed his thoughts were doing anything other than figuring out ways to make her feel like she would be set ablaze. She took another drink - how many bottles had they gone through this evening? Not that it mattered - every day they ambled back into camp was worthy of celebration. Another battle survived, another day won. Her thoughts came back to the present when his fingers began their slow descent down the front seam of her pants over her lower stomach. She looked at him out of her corner of her eyes, but he was fully engaged in conversation. She felt his hand reach the meeting of her thighs, and her breath caught in her throat while her legs parted slightly for him in her chair. Thank the gods there wasn’t a chair next to her, she thought while feeling his fingers touching her through the thin leather. Surely her cheeks were going pink by now, but she would easily be able to blame that on the wine. 

She closed her eyes as she took another sip. Nothing existed outside of the feeling of his hand now resting between her thighs, his middle finger pressing against her in a smooth, slow motion. Her breathing slowed and she willed herself to maintain her composure, no matter how much she wanted to rip her pants off and make him kneel before her and use that practiced tongue he bragged about so often. Cheers sounded out again around them - Wyll was going back for a rematch and Karlach left to be his moral support and coach. They were alone again. She smiled to herself and leaned over. 

“Having fun tormenting me?” She teased, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his neck, her hand moving back to his lap where his pants now strained even further. She wasn’t sure how much more they could take. How much more she could take. 

“I always delight in making you feel good, my love,” he said in that smooth way of his, the devilish look in his eyes betraying the innocence and sincerity of his words. She felt him twitch beneath her hand. It would be so easy to tease him, to torment him the same way he was delighting in tormenting her…but it had been two days, and she needed him inside her. Desperately. 

“I’m going to the room. It looks like everyone is going to be occupied here for some time, and I’d like to get these pants off,” she whispered into his ear, feeling him still as she nipped at his earlobe lightly, hoping her message got across. Follow me, while we have it to ourselves. He made eye contact with her and nodded. He placed two fingers on top of her hand. Two minutes then. Plenty of time to make it look like they weren’t leaving together just to go defile their new campsite.

She kissed his cheek and stood up, saying goodnight to no one in particular as she made her way through the crowd and up the staircase to their room on the top floor of the Elfsong, the sound of lively music and cheering following her. She could feel his eyes on her back, burning through her as she walked. 

The door to their room creaked softly as she opened it, the vast space lit only by the dim moonlight coming from one side of the sleeping space. She padded over to her area of the room, the most communal of all the spaces with no semblance of privacy - just four beds against the walls. More beds were scattered in the other sections of the room with a sitting area in the center. Who would ever need a room this large? She sat on her bed, testing the angle. The door was difficult to see from where she was - at least if someone came in unexpectedly, they wouldn’t be immediately exposed.

Tav quickly stripped out of her clothing, not wanting to waste a second of their precious time alone. It lay in a heap on the floor - out of the way and carelessly discarded as she made herself comfortable and waited. Not long after she found herself settled on the bed, the door to their room creaked slowly open, the warm light of the hallway flooding the entry of the room briefly before it shut, the faintest silvered glow coming in through the windows across the room now the only light once more. The floor creaked softly as  Gale made his way to her. A delighted smile grew on his face once his eyes adjusted to the almost darkness and he saw her waiting for him, completely naked. 

“Gods, Tav,” he whispered, climbing on to the bed beside her. “I will never get used to the sight of you before me.” He kissed her deeply, roughly, their lips immediately parting and their tongues sliding against each other, while hands grasped at each other like they hadn’t touched in months. “I have been wanting to do that all night,” he smiled before kissing her again, his fingers trailing up her thighs as they had all night. With no leather to act as a buffer, Tav’s skin blazed in their path as if he was branding her with his touch. Her body could only be his, she wanted it to only be his. His fingers continued the path they traveled down in the tavern, quickly finding her center and parting it to find her already slick with want for him. He kissed her neck, moaning against her skin as he easily slid two fingers into her, needing to feel her around him. 

“Please,” she moaned softly, the sound slipping through her kiss-bitten lips. “I need you, Gale,” she whispered, pulling his shirt from his tight trousers so she could put her hands on his skin, warm from drink and arousal. Her hips rocked as his fingers slid in and out, curling against the sensitive spot inside of her. Gods, he knew just how to touch her to drive her wild. 

Abruptly, he pulled his hand out of her, bringing the two fingers to his mouth as he licked them clean. “It is a travesty I won’t be able to taste you fully tonight. I long to have your legs slung over my shoulders and my face buried between your thighs.” He gave her a wicked grin and he quickly pulled off his shirt, tossing it on the heap of discarded clothing before unfastening his trousers and pulling them off along with his underwear in a motion so smooth and quick, Tav was mildly convinced he used magic. 

Tav took a moment to appreciate him - his lean athletic build, his muscular thighs, his perfect forearms, the fine dusting of hair that covered his chest and led down his stomach to one of her favorite body parts. Pulling him out of that portal was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Since that night beneath the stars a tenday ago in the Shadow Cursed Lands, she had never known such pleasure though she had been with plenty of others in the time before the tadpole. That was how her life was divided now - before and after the tadpole, and looking at Gale, resplendent and naked before her, she wouldn’t change a thing.

“You are a work of art,” she smiled before grabbing his arm, pulling him on top of her. She could feel how hard he was as he brushed against her thigh, leaving a small drop of moisture on her. He was as turned on as she was. Good, she thought. “Now, Gale Dekarios,” she emphasized the Dekarios, “would you please fuck me until I see stars?” 

He laughed and kissed her deeply, using his thigh to push her legs further apart so he could settle between them more comfortably. His tip brushed against her, and grabbing the base, he parted her just as he did moments ago, sliding up and down from her entrance to her clit and teasing her as he loved to do, “My love, when you put it like that, how can I resist?” he said before pressing into her just enough for her to close her eyes and moan loudly. He looked down, watching himself enter her fully. Her warm tightness wrapped around him and she fit him like a glove. There would never be a better feeling than this, even the Weave itself could not compare to the magic between Tav’s hips. He pulled back out, leaving in just the tip, admiring the way his length glistened with her wetness. Knowing he affected her that way, that she wanted his body as much as he wanted hers…that more than that, she wanted his love, his soul, his mind - it drove him crazy. He couldn’t hold back. He drove into her, their bodies hitting as he fully seated himself inside her. He repeated. In, out, in, out. His gaze was drawn to her breasts as they bounced with each thrust, those lovely breasts he loved to knead and suck. His eyes moved to her face, her eyes closed and head thrown back in absolute pleasure. He sped up. He wanted so many things - wanted to take her roughly tonight, wanted to make up for wasted nights spent in solitude, wanted to hear her scream his name so all the Elfsong could hear. She panted and writhed underneath him, her nails digging into his thighs and marking him with little half moons. 

“Please…Gale…more…I nee-”

Warm light flooded the room again as the door opened, the sound of drunken companions stumbling in. 

“Shit,” she whispered while Gale summoned a sheet to quickly cover them entirely as he leaned down and laid on top of her. They both stifled giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation. 

“Do you want me to…?” Gale asked, starting to pull out of her. She grabbed his arm tightly. 

“Don’t you dare. Finish what you started, wizard,” she whispered before kissing him deeply, pulling away slowly to minimize any noise. “We will just have to be quiet,” she smiled against his mouth. Luckily no one would be using this area beside her tonight. The area of the room was also where Dame Aylin and Isolbel usually stayed, though they were not here tonight. Probably doing the same thing Tav and Gale were. Good for them, she thought to herself before her focus was pulled back to her current situation. Gale had pulled out of her and was turning her so she was on her side, facing the outside of the bed while he pressed against her back. He reached down, lifting one of her legs, balancing it on top of his before guiding himself slowly back into her. 

His body was so warm and it felt like he was everywhere. His chest was pressed to her shoulder blades, one arm was wrapped around her, just under her breasts, and the other grasped her thigh tightly to keep it in place as he moved in and out of her once again - slower, less frantic. His hips rolled against her, and he let out the softest moan into her ear. This was even hotter than being taken roughly. Their friends were half a room away and here she was, feeling the highest bliss imaginable. He adjusted his arm, grabbing one of her breasts. His fingers kneaded the soft flesh and pinched her hard nipple. Tav had to bite her lip to keep from moaning out loud - he knew how much she liked that. She could sense his playful smile against her skin as he kissed her shoulder. 

“I can’t resist,” he whispered, pinching her other nipple and kneading her other breast while keeping his steady pace, making her bite her lip again to keep silent. The hand that once held her thigh was now gripping her hips, pulling her back against him with each slow, steady roll of his own hips - he wanted to get even deeper inside her, as if that were possible. 

“Gods,” Tav whispered, finding it nearly impossible to keep quiet - she was overloaded with sensation. She felt his hand move from her breast down the center line of her stomach, further and further until he reached her clit, circling it lightly. She jerked roughly back against him and clasped a hand against her mouth, turning her head into the pillow. She wouldn’t be able to keep it in much longer. Her free hand clasped around the wrist on her hips, using it as leverage to grind back against him as those wonderful, magical fingers rubbed her in time to his thrusts. Her body flowed against him and she was molten, lava filling her veins. The sheet trapped their body heat, a thin layer of sweat now coating both their bodies. She felt herself starting to lose composure, her hips moving quicker as the fire in her veins settled low in her abdomen where the two of them were joined. Soft pants were the only noise filling the space surrounding them.

“Come for me, Tav,” he whispered, so soft she almost couldn’t make it out. He knew she was close, he could feel how tight she was getting around him. He pressed against her clit a little harder, his fingers bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She felt every inch of him slide in and out of her, a perfect fit. 

“Gale…I don’t..I don’t know if I can keep quiet,” she whispered, desperation in her words as she got closer and closer. 

“This is what you wanted,” he whispered, his hot breath warming her ear and the side of her neck before he kissed it in that spot she loved and continued rubbing her clit, fucking her slowly, deliberately, deeply…so deeply. Gale knew she was normally loud when she came, and he loved it. Hearing her cry out his name as her body shuddered around him, knowing he could bring her to such heights was a thrill for him. He was so close to his own release, and had been thinking about spilling inside her all night. The thought of feeling her pulse around him was enough to drive him right to the edge. “Come for me,” he whispered again. “Now.”

As if on command, he felt her tighten around him before crashing over the edge. A gasp sounded from her, and he quickly clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle it, to avoid alerting anyone to what they were doing. She turned her face back into the pillow and panted against his hand, breathing heavily as she came. Her entire body shook as she contained what would normally be exclamations to the gods about how good he fucked her. He buried his head against her shoulder, using her skin to muffle his own pants and stifled groans as he felt himself topple over that same edge, filling her just as he longed to do these past days. He held on to her tightly, pressing every inch of her body against him as he pulsed inside her. 

Their breathing slowed and he pulled out of her, laying on his back and throwing the sheet off of them to feel the cool air of the room against his skin. The room was silent except for the sound of drunken snoring from their companions, their plan a success. Tav turned to her other side, facing him, and he traced the curves of her body with a finger. He would never tire of it, every dip, rise, curve, and scar was part of the topography of her body he wanted to memorize. Her breathing slowed and her eyes fluttered - sleep was near for both of them. 

Pulling the sheet back up, he kissed her softly. He pulled her in next to him - the bed was hardly big enough for the both of them, but it was worth it to feel her next to him.

“I love you, Gale,” she whispered before sleep took her. 

“I love you, Tav,” he smiled and whispered back. He stayed awake for a few moments before sleep overcame him as well, the night’s events replaying through his dreams.

[kosmichippieccfinds]

👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The Sims 4

I am currently playing Morbid's ULTIMATE Decades Challenge over on YouTube. Below is a list of all of the Mods + CC I am using in my game to create the ultimate MEDIEVAL experience 👑

I'll be updating this list as I add new mods and cc to my game.

📺 Watch on YouTube

👑 MODS:

Medieval Windenburg

MC Command Center

MC Woohoo

More Traits in CAS

Royalty Mod

Medieval Interactions

Ye Olde Cookbook + Stoves

Home Region by Kuttoe

Fashion Authority 2 by Lot51

Functional Broom

Functional Loom

Functional Pottery Wheel

Archery Skill

Blacksmithing Skill

Honey Production Mod + Mead Brewer

Children/Toddlers Can Die of Anything

Playable Harp + Lute

Functional Horses & Carriages, No Helmet

Create Campfire Bonfire Anywhere

Arranged Marriages

Custom Farm Animals

Purchase Custom Animals

Zero's Historical Mods (pickpocket, disease, etc.)

Phone to Notebook Replacement

Sippy Cup + Toys Default Replacements

Stuff for Pets

Harvestable Wheat Grain

Natural Knitting Stuff

Live in Business (LittleMsSam)

More Buyable Venues (LittleMsSam)

Force to Leave (LittleMsSam)

👑 CC:

Build:

TSR Ye Medieval - Ligna Windows Set

TSR Ye Medieval - Timber Frame Walls

TSR Ye Medieval - Framework Walls

TSR - Broken Wood Door

TSR Ye Medieval - Soil Terrain

TSR Ye Medieval - Hay Ground Terrain

Birch Tree (2048x2048)

Objects:

Lili's Palace - Folklore Set No. 1

Linzlu's Frontier Items

TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 1

TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 2

TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 3

TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 4

TRS Ye Medieval - Tristan Bathroom

TSR Ye Medieval - Tavern Part 1

TSR Ye Medieval - Candle Holder

TSR - Skara Stool

TSR - The Old Garden Boat

TSR - The Old Garden Quay

Fish Market Decor

Fish Rack

Fish Crate V1

Fish Crate V2

Bohrium Vegetables I

Old Rustic Well ("Eco Living" version)

Stable Set by Moriel

Rustic Animal Shed

Rustic Chicken Coop

Rustic Bee Box

Bassinet + Infant Crib

CAS:

TheSimsResource (Ye Medieval)

TheSimsResource (Sifix)

Simverses (most of my peasant CC)

Anora's Hair (Princess Leia's Kenobi Hair by Buzzard)

Rosceline's Hair (Lusine by simstrouble)

Kenric's Hair (Henry Hair by JohnnySims)

Mira's Hair (Padme's Mustafar Hair by Buzzard)

Papa Cedrick's Hair (Wearwolves Game Pack)

Roseline's Peasant Dress

👑 LOTS:

Caspian's Seaside Hut (Lot + CC List) (20x20)

Caspian's Lakeside Cottage (Lot + CC List) (20x20)

TSR Ye Medieval Avelyn Castle (64x64)

TSR Ye Medieval Galbury Tavern (30x20)

TSR Ye Medieval Tyrada Tavern (30x20)

TSR Ye Medieval Herbalist Hut (40x30)

👑 SAVE FILE:

Srsly's Blank Save

Map Replacement Medieval Windenburg

[absolutehomosexuals]

Tag yourself / your ex as de-idealized bg3 men: lore accurate edition

(implied female reader)

Gale of Waterdeep

☆ "My ex was crazy!!"

Accidentally calls you her name on multiple occasions.

☆ Runs on mansplaining and patronizing quips alone

☆ The medieval equivalent of a Quentin Tarantino fan

☆ "Oh yeah? Name five tavern songs."

☆ Due to some odd twist of nature, being on good terms with his mother didn't stop him from developing mommy issues

☆ His favourite book sold three copies total across the Material Plane

☆ Broke up with you over carrier pidgeon

(10k words and counting)

The Cambion Raphael

♤ Swears on his honour he's not gay

Doesn't have a honour

♤ Jokes about clone-fucking way too often for your friends', your family's and anyone's liking

♤ Has a scary amount of child trafficking allegations

♤ Professional pillow princess

♤ A deadly cocktail of erectile dysfunction and premature ejaculation

♤ "Let them eat bread"

♤ All of his jewlery is a product of child labour

The Strap of Frontiers

◇ Vowed to save his virginity for marriage

◇ Idealizes you to an unrealistically toxic degree

◇ Introduces you to his family after the second date

◇ He's not rich, he's "comfortable"

Proceeds to be the son of an archduke

◇ Sports the biggest martyr complex his therapist has ever witnessed

◇ His sugar mommy is part of the package

◇ Gambled with the literal devil (and lost)

Lord Enver Gortash

♧ Thinks of perfume as a substitute for deodorant

♧ Bathes once per fortnight

♧ The coat stays on during sex

While he'll gaslight you with a hundred different justifications, it merely buys him a few seconds before the inevitable

♧ Has never told truth once. Mfer even gave you a fake last name.

♧ His sidepiece has homicidal tendencies, so you'll basically live in terror

♧ Hunts orphans for sport

♧ Occasionally throws in a dehumanizing, downright terrifyingly classist phrase or two. Just to keep the conversation flowing.

[thebekerslegecy]

👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The BEKER LEGECY

I am currently playing Morbid’s ULTIMATE Decades Challenge. Below is a list of all of the Mods + CC I am using in my game🐝

🍯 MODS: Wicked Whims (+18) MC Command Center MC Woohoo More Traits in CAS Royalty Mod Medieval Interactions Ye Olde Cookbook + Stoves +Fires Require Wood  + Hunting & Foraging Mod Home Region +Townie Demographics by Kuttoe Fashion Authority 2 by Lot51 Functional Broom Functional Loom Functional Pottery Wheel Archery Skill Blacksmithing Skill Historical Simolean Override - English Shillings Children/Toddlers Can Die of Anything Playable Harp + Lute Functional Horses & Carriages, No Helmet Create Campfire Bonfire Anywhere Arranged Marriages Custom Farm Animals Purchase Custom Animals Zero’s Historical Mods (pickpocket, disease, etc.) Phone to Notebook Replacement Sippy Cup + Toys Default Replacements Stuff for Pets Natural Knitting Stuff PreTeen LittleMsSam Mods ( Pick what you want) Sims4me

🐝 CC:

🍯Build:

TSR Ye Medieval - Ligna Windows Set TSR Ye Medieval - Timber Frame Walls TSR Ye Medieval - Framework Walls TSR - Broken Wood Door TSR Ye Medieval - Soil Terrain TSR Ye Medieval - Hay Ground Terrain

🐝Objects:

Lili’s Palace - Folklore Set No. 1 Linzlu’s Frontier Items TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 1 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 2 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 3 TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 4 TRS Ye Medieval - Tristan Bathroom TSR Ye Medieval - Tavern Part 1 TSR Ye Medieval - Candle Holder TSR - Skara Stool TSR - The Old Garden Boat TSR - The Old Garden Quay Fish Market Decor Fish Rack Fish Crate V1 Fish Crate V2 Bohrium Vegetables I Old Rustic Well (“Eco Living” version) Stable Set by Moriel Rustic Animal Shed Rustic Chicken Coop Rustic Bee Box Bassinet + Infant Crib SimsHistoricalfinds tumblr (directory) SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL CC TheSenseMedieval Allhistorical cc tumblr Medieval & Fantasy Mods List | Notion Kosmic Hippie's CC Finds — 👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The Sims 4 antiquated plumbobs : Directory CC Finds Navigation

🍯CAS:

TheSimsResource (Ye Medieval) TheSimsResource (Sifix) Simverses  Melancholy Maiden | creating Historical Sims 4 CC | Patreon satterlly | creating The Sims 4 CC | Patreon

🐝 SAVE FILE:

Srsly’s Blank Save Map Replacement Medieval Windenburg Medieval Map Replacement

🍯MY SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL WORLDS:

How to change sims4 world names (for existing save) How to change sims4 world names ( for new save)

Kingdom of France – Willow Creek��� Mali Empire – Oasis Springs’ Kingdom of Norway – Newcrest’ Inca Empire – Granite Falls’ Holy Roman Empire – Windenburg’ Kingdom of Denmark– Magnolia Promenade’ Republic of Genoa – San Myshuno’ Kingdom of Hungary – Forgotten Hollow’ Grand Duchy of Lithuania – Brindleton Bay’ Aztec Empire – Selvadorada’ Kingdom of Sicily – Del Sol Valley’ Ottoman Empire – StrangerVille’ Hawai’i – Sulani’ Kingdom of Scotland- Glimmerbrook’ Duchy of Milan – Brightchester’ Maya city-states – Evergreen Harbor’ Tatooine– Batuu’ Goryeo– Mt. Komorebi’ Kingdom of England – Henford-on-Bagley’ Republic of Venice– Tartosa’ Duchy of Burgundy – Moonwood Mill’ Kingdom of Aragon – Copperdale’ Mongol Empire – San Sequoia’ Mamluk Sultanate – Chestnut Ridge’ Kingdom of Ayutthaya – Tomarang’ Kingdom of Castile - Ciudad Enamorada

[oops-all-concrete]

I'm back with more BG3 COMPANION REACTIONS!

This time; Companions see Tav (yours/you) getting flirted with and being too shy/stunned to turn the person down and step in for them. As usual, the romance is only as implied as you would like! These can be read as platonic (but I'm happy to write romance specific posts if you lovelies would like)

Lae'zel -

The concept of flirting tires her. Why make eyes and small touches and idle chatter that eludes to a 'something else' if you can just get to the 'something else- immediately? Assuming both parties are interested of course. Unlike now, where Tav is failing miserably at saying no- because they weren't asked "May I taste your flesh and you taste mine in return?" With a roll of the eyes and a calculated stalk, Lae'zel makes her way over to Tav and takes them by the wrist, dragging them away. If she's stopped, she glares and speaks sharp: "Keep your filth to yourself. If they wanted what your company could achieve, they'd roll around in the mud with an actual pig."

Shadowheart -

Wyll -

She watches from afar with some amusement for a time. But- watching them stay seated several times when the "newfound company" kept getting up and seeming eager to leave- she was happy to put her wine down for such an occasion. "Pardon me, but myself and that one have somewhere to be tonight." She says, hooking her arm in Tavs. If pressed, she'll elaborate. "Well, we travel with a Githyanki warrior, the Blade Of Frontiers, a chosen of Mystra, and a cleric of Shar who's had to put down her wine to come over here and apparently repeat herself." She smiles innocently, though her voice is piercing enough to send the stranger walking backwards with their hands up.

He waits with stepping in, giving Tav the agency to say yes or no on their own accord, but as the stranger starts getting a little too familiar, he can't sit still. "Excuse me, I'm afraid my friend here isn't available this evening" He says, friendly but firm. Of course he's challenged- too nice about it- so he stops being nice. "I should have been more clear-" he starts, placing a hand on their shoulder- watching them become more afraid with the distinct crackle and glow of eldritch energy. "You're either leaving alone- or with me. In a bag." He says again, voice darker than usual. The stranger gets the message and Wyll watches them like a hawk out of the building. "Apologies Tav, I shouldn't have been so harsh. I just have a special distaste for people like that."

Karlach -

This woman jumps in the second Tav shakes their head. "Woah, woah, woah!?" She yells from the distance she is, a lot of the tavern pausing their conversations and looking her way. "Yeah, that's enough of that. If they wanted you as bad as you think, they'd have left with you already, yeah? Hands and unfortunate looking face to yourself" She says, cheeky smile on her face, but her hands itching to swing. Of course the person is embarrassed, especially when some giggles start coming in from the crowd, possibly Tav too, but Karlach knows they're safe with the entire tavern as witness. "Let's get outta here, Tav. There's more drinks and less weirdos down the street" She smiles smugly.

Gale -

He's quite socially eloquent when he wants to be, but knows how to be tactically rude as well. The minute Tav starts shuffling subtly closer to him to get away from this other person, he's inserting himself in the conversation. "Oh, you've got art at your home? I've been meaning to talk to another art fanatic, I've quite a few pieces I'd love to discuss back in my tower in waterdeep filled with wonderful architecture, sculpture, Baroque- Oh! Are you familiar with Oskar Fevras? I commissioned him personally a while ago-" he knows he's hard to talk over, and he takes full advantage. The minute the person tries to talk to Tav- Gale immediately gives them an out. "Oh! I just remembered- Tav my good friend! I believe I've left a ring in the bathroom on the sink while washing my hands" Gale talks fast, allowing Tav all the time needed to leave.

Astarion -

Oh this man is an actor. A few times he catches eyes with Tav- notably uncomfortable, and he rolls his red eyes. He disappears for a moment, but before Tav can think, he's throwing himself between Tav and the stranger. "Darling- This is where you've been??" He says, and you can hear the offence in his voice. Several heads turn. Bar staff is concerned. Oh boy. "I thought you said you'd quit drinking?? And here you are while I'm at home waiting! Look how late it is!" It's like, 4PM, and it makes the stranger frown, but Astarion is yelling again before he can be stopped. "And who are you?? Stealing my lover away like a bandit!" He throws his arms around and sounds on the verge of (fake) tears. Of course the stranger is out of there asap, Astarion taking their seat and drink, making himself at home. He smirks at them like a little shit

Halsin -

As polite and friendly as Halsin is, he can look rather intimidating when he wants. He's huge and he knows it, and while he doesn't like doing it, he will use it to his advantage. The minute he picks up on Tavs discomfort, he's a shadow over the pair. The stranger just has a look up at the druid and that has all the effect needed. "Apologies, I'm afraid you're in my seat. My friend was waiting for me" He smiles, arms crossed in front of him, a mountainous man. If they don't move immediately, he leans down to the strangers height, because of course he's much taller. "Don't worry about paying for your drink, I'd much rather pay for that myself than a bloody floor." He says, voice even and friendly, but a vein bulging out of his forehead.

Hope you've you've enjoyed! Who are you looking to for help in this situation? (I take requests, feel free to ask!♡)

[lucrezianoin]

Wyll and Astarion banter (2/2)

Collection of banter between Wyll and Astarion (you can find part 1 here). In case I will add more in the future I will use the tag "wyllstarion banter".

This one has a lot of dialogues I literally never heard of, so I wonder if some of them are not in game anymore (tho they are act 3 specific).

Astarion: I hardly saw you at the party. Did the honest and true Blade sneak off for a little fun? Wyll: No! Nothing like that at all. Astarion: Oh, but you protest too much. Now I know you were practicing your swordplay.

---

Wyll: Ah - the memories. The Blushing Mermaid's where fifteen-year-old Wyll snuck his first kiss. Astarion: You didn't kiss anyone until you were fifteen? Gods, what a tragic, sheltered life... Wyll: Sheltered? Not at all. I was exposed to all manner of riot and revelry. Hells, my father even urged me on once or twice. But I've always been a bit old-fashioned on these matters. I find more pleasure in a courtly dance than a loveless fling.

---

Astarion: I lived two centuries in this city, but it can still surprise me. Wyll: Baldur's Gate harbours many a secret. Even the longest-lived explorers have yet to uncover them all. Speaking of - what were you getting up to all those years? Astarion: Let's not get into details. If Baldur's Gate can have its secrets, so can I.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I was wrong about you. Truly wrong about you. Astarion: Let me guess - you thought I'd suck blood, but actually I just suck? Was that your witty jab? (devnote: a little tired of Wyll's bullshit) Wyll: No, I mean it. There's little between us we share. But you've fallen in love and stood by your lover. That is something this dreamer's heart can appreciate.

(this is a spawn astarion romanced dialogue)

---

(more under cut)

Astarion: Well, it's no Baldur's Gate, but at least it's some kind of civilisation. Wyll: I do miss the Gate, though. The Elfsong Tavern! Sunset over Grey Harbour! Fried fish at the docks! Astarion: Drunk young patriars, naked in the fountains! Ah, civilisation... (note: whistfully)

---

Wyll: Finally, we're approaching Moonrise Towers. Astarion: Nothing escapes the Blade of Frontiers' keen senses, I see. Wyll: Mock me all you want, Astarion. We could use a little comic relief. Astarion: Yes, that's why I'm mocking you - to keep our spirits up. No other reason...

---

Astarion: You know, I've never seen this place in the daylight before. Wyll: I always loved this park. Spent a lot of time here as a boy battling imaginary monsters. Astarion: Oh, I was going to say it looks wretched. The dark hid all the kitschy details.

---

Wyll: Astarion, I just want to say - I judged you wrongly. I'm sorry. Astarion: Really? And how - specifically - have you misjudged my fine character? Wyll: You aren't actually insufferably randy. You're just insufferable.

---

Astarion: Marriage, Wyll? I thought you'd have learned not to get trapped by devious contracts. Wyll: I was planning to invite you to the ceremony, but I'm having second thoughts. Astarion: I'd love to come! As long as I can sit with someone fun. Mizora, perhaps?

---

Wyll: I'd watch yourself, my friend. I don't know if our pale rogue has anything good in his heart, or even a scrap of it left for you. Astarion: Excuse me? That's just mean - we're all adults here. Wyll: Your heart's cold as ice, Astarion. I'm just making sure no one slips and gets hurt.

---

Wyll: As much love as I hold for Baldur's Gate, these frontiers delight me as much as any bustling street. Astarion: You can't be serious? This is a howling wasteland! I haven't even had a bath since the abduction. I must reek of ilithid slime. Wyll: Sure, but think of the stories you'll be able to tell.

---

Shadowheart: So. A vampire spawn and a monster hunter in the same group. We're not going to have trouble, are we? Astarion: Excuse me? Since this tadpole, I'm barely a monster at all. I just want to survive, same as you. Wyll: I don't see a problem, as long as mister fang there keeps his appetite in check.

---

Astarion: A question for our master monster hunter: how would you approach killing a vampire? Wyll (he knows Astarion is a vampire): A full-on vamp, you mean? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. And that's not the end of it. The suckers are wily. No offence. Astarion: None taken. Wiliness keeps me alive. More or less.

Wyll (he doesn't know Astarion is a vampire): To start? Lure it into the sun, drive a stake through its heart. Why? Astarion: Just curious.

---

(this is about the Moonrise Oubliette)

Astarion: Admittedly, I don't care for most people, but this is a terrible waste. (note: referring to all the wasted blood) Wyll: Because their lives were cut brutally short, you mean. Astarion: I - ... yes, that. That's clearly what I was referring to. (note: pretending he wasn't referring to all the wasted blood)

[witchysfics]

Hey! I loved your fic a lot, thank u for adding some fluff to his romance <3

You mentioned the requests are possible, what about Gale and Tav spending one of their nights in town? Maybe cafe, tavern or restaurant? Or just a slow walking promenade through the alleys? Or slow dancing somewhere near musicians? Whatever inspires you the most :D

Thanks!

author's note : Thank you so much for requesting!! I will be finishing up other requests and finishing my rules soon. Feel free to keep requesting for now! I love all your ideas!! this is not proofread and may have many mistakes. It was soooo late when I was writing this. enjoy <3

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The party had stopped at a quaint little town for the evening. You had practically begged to rest here. Why be outside in the cold dark night when you all could cozy up a fire and warm up to a little a drink. It would be great!

And you were right. The tiny town was filled with happy families, couples strolling along and a quaint tavern, perfect for your traveling party.

As the sun disappeared behind the horizon and night filled the air the town grew even more bustling.

Now the patrons of the tavern sat outside nursing their drinks and watching the locals dance to the music.

The party had settled on some outdoor seating as well, Karalach and Wyll loading up on ale, laughing boisterously. Astarion hung to the shadows, probably looking for a snack out of one of the clueless town's persons. And you sat with Shadowheart chatting like a couple of gossiping old ladies while Gale sat with you two, listening.

An upbeat song began, drawing your attention to the dancers.

"The aroma of the night is relaxing. It's a nice change of pace isn't it?" Gale asks, turning to you and Shadowheart.

You nod, smiling. You could definitely agree, after the countless battles and hours of exploring the party really needed this off time.

A sudden bump of your table had startled the three of you.

"Op! s-sorry!" A giddy, and possibly drunk, Karlach called as she dragged a nervous Wyll to the dance floor. "I told you Wyll, Blade of Frontiers. You will be bested by me! Karlach! ... uhh The Dancing Demon!"

You and Gale chuckled at their antics while Shadowheart shakes her head, amused.

"How long do you think before Wyll finds competing with Karlach is too hot to handle?" Gale asks jokingly.

You shake your head at that, "Haha, I thought you were a Wizard, not a comedic bard." You quip.

"I can be anything you'd like my dear. Maybe even a proficient dancer?" He look expectantly at you. His delivery is confident but the message in his eyes holds of other, more nervous intension.

You blush slightly at the implication of the statement. Opening your mouth, trying to formulate something to say but nothing comes out.

"I- uh."

"I can't remember the last time I danced." Shadowheart sighs, gazing at the dancers.

You turn to her and fan your heating face. Thankful that she unknowing shifted attention to herself you ask, "Really? Shar doesn't like dancing?" You joke, smiling a little at her.

"I wouldn't say that, its just... I can't remember the last time I danced, because of the...you know" She gestures to her head, "memory spell"

You make a silent 'oh' in realization.

"I'm not too sad about it though, I know I'll get my memories back. And in the mean time," She suddenly stands from her seat, standing in front of you. "I get to make new memories now. Starting with you!" She makes a quick motion for you hands and pulls you up to her.

You let out a surprised yelp as she laughs and she drags you over to dance. You look over your shoulder to Gale, who looks just as surprised but recovers and mouths for you to 'go on it's fine' with a smile. You give a apologetic smile in return.

Shadowheart, still holding your hands, spins the two of you. Dancing in a way that is reminiscent of young school girls. Twirling, spinning, jumping and laughing all the while.

You spot Karlach an Wyll who both shoot you friendly smiles. Wyll's a little more crooked and weary while Karlach gives you two red thumbs up.

Eventually you have traded dance partners as more people join the group. You switch from Shadowheart, to Karlach to Wyll. Even Halsin joins in during a slower song. You danced with strangers too, some old some young. Some flirted with you and some you made a friendly banter. You had noticed Gal tried to slip in a few times only for you or him to snatched up by a different partner. Both of you expressing contrite smiles to one another.

By the time you got back to your table, and Gale the whole town might as well have turned in for the night. The music was slower and the dance floor was lighted by dancing fireflies and the occasional ground lantern.

"Well, it's been a while." He says looking over to you. "You seem very popular."

You sigh falling into the chair, exhasuted. "I'm so sorry!" You exclaim, slumping to your knees and placing one of your hands on his own that sat on his high. "I had meant to answer you question ages ago, but well..." You chuckle, "I just I was preoccupied."

"Oh no my dear, I completely understand. Of course everyone would want to dance with a beautiful individual like yourself."

His voice is smooth, like a stream gliding over flat stones. His face is soft though his tone is flirty.

You gulp and roll your bottom lip between your teeth. You've danced with strangers all night, how could he make just taking to him overwhelming?

"Is something the matter? You seem, stunned." He asks a smug smile spreading across his lips

"Oh! No no. Not at all." You clear your throat. "Sorry I just...." You trail off, unsure of what to say.

"You know," he begins, taking your hand into his. "You never did answer my question. Would you like me to be your dancer?"

You nod breathlessly and he smiles down at you. His eyes filled with an indescribable softness.

He pulls you gentally to the dance floor and a song kicks up as you wrap your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your waist. His chest presses to yours and the warmth from the contact warms the cool air around you. His shoulder is soft as you place your head upon it. Drinking in the smell of his, now clean, robes. They have a hint of petrichor and vanilla, as well as a slight lingering smell of ale. But that is to be expected near a tavern.

The playing song is cheerful, but romantic as it belows out it's slow rhythmed melody.

Gale's eyes haven't left you once since you'd begun dancing. Taking in the view of your eyes as they sparked from the light of firefies.

It's only when he begins speaking are you snapped out of your trance.

"You know, I've been trying to get to dance with you all night. I was almost convinced I wasn't going to just because I couldn't seem to even catch a small moment with you." He chuckles. "But I'm glad I waited. Dancing with you then would have been a privilege but I would have had lost you as soon as I got you. But this, dancing with you, watching your darling face lit up by the stars? This, this is a dream."

Footnote : Thank you so much for requesting! I hope this is sufficient to what you had in mind, this was really fun to write. Had me kicking my own feet. Sorry it took me so long to get to, midterms have been biting my ass. Love ya! - Witchy

[spacemonkeysalsa]

some bg3 headcanon

Zevlor is a cambion with big old nasty scars where he clubbed his wings (that he has to maintain, bc regeneration) passing as a tiefling.

But, Raphael isn't a cambion, he's just passing as one, Mephistopheles is his father, he's made some other kind of "new monster."

Nettie is an angel of death type serial killer, she has a long history of poisoning people who come to her for healing. We have to stop her.

Quill, Alfira and Isobel are all bhaalspawn, good aligned, actively resisting their urges, that's why DU is compelled to kill them.

Shadowheart and Nocturne definitely wrote A LOT of Blade of Frontiers fanfiction and read it out-loud to each other in their secret cove and made out. I was there, I saw it.

Astarion has met Drizzt Do'Urden. He made a pass at him in a dockside tavern, during Drizzt's pirate hunting days, and Drizzt dipped, politely.

Halsin is the only companion who has never heard of Drizzt Do'Urden.

Minthara is the only (new) companion who has met Jarlaxle Baenre. She doesn't care for him.

Both Mizora and Flo had big old pining crushes on Karlach, who is oblivious, it's all very antagonistic playground type vibes.

[canadianfangirl-95]

Karma 

Frankie Morales fanfiction x f! reader pov 

Summary: Triple Frontier guys attend a night club to see a band that isn’t typically their style. Frankie seeks solitude at the bar but becomes entranced by a mysterious stranger on the stool next to him. 

No mention of the events of Triple Frontier, character based only. 

Rating: 18+, minors DNI 

Warning: smut, p in v, oral m receiving, alcohol consumption, talks of anxiety, mental health and therapy (we love a king that goes to therapy) 

Word count: 8600+ 

Loud rock music sounded in the club as Frankie, Santiago, Benny, and Will squeezed between the crowd of people to find a tall table to lean against. The floor was sticky, and the music was so loud they had to all but yell at each other to talk. There were lights flashing everywhere to go along with the music the band on the stage was playing. There was a dance floor where a mosh pit of customers collected to head bang to the heavy metal music the band was currently playing. Frankie looked around feeling completely out of place from the small-town tavern he was used to.  

“This place is fucking nuts.” Will shouted at the group.  

They all nodded I agreement, trying not to talk if they didn’t have to in order to save their lungs the exhaustion. They would normally never come to a place like this, but Benny wanted to see the main band that was going to be on stage shortly because the drummer was a buddy of his at the gym. The rest of the group obliged as he had promised to buy a couple rounds and of course they didn’t have much better to do that night. Frankie was soon regretting his slow social life as he would definitely prefer to be anywhere he wasn’t getting shoved up against as people moved past him.  

Frankie leaned into the group, “What’s this band called anyway?” 

“Karma and the Catastrophes!” Benny shouted back at him.  

Santiago interjected, “Where are those beers you promised us? Definitely gonna need it with this crowd.” 

Benny reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bills, “Can one of you get them I’m gonna go see if my buddy is backstage before he goes on.” 

Frankie reached over and snagged the money out of his hands. “I’ll go, it looks a bit quieter over there.” 

They all nodded as Frankie broke from the group and made his way to the back of the building where the bar was nestled. He noticed a considerable difference in the noise once he got back there and there were less people as most of the crowd was still enjoying the current band.  

He leaned into the bar and got the attention of the bartender, signaling for four beers with his hand. He looked over to his right and noticed you sitting on the stool beside him with a glass of water. He was taken aback by your beauty. You were wearing a black tank top and ripped black jeans with leather boots. Your arms were adorned with various traditional Sailor Jerry tattoos.  

He didn’t have much luck talking to women, but he couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat the second he saw you. He leaned in and said hi shyly.  

You turned your head towards him, “Hey.” You smiled.  

He drummed his hands for a beat on the bar before the bartender brought the beers back and he handed him the bills.  

“This place gets pretty crazy huh?” he asked, trying his best to make conversation.  

“Yeah, I don’t mind it though. I like the energy.” You responded, eyeing him up and down. He had a rough looking baseball hat and stretched grey T-shirt with jeans on. You could see a chain hanging underneath the v line of the shirt and assumed it was dog tags considering there is an army base on the other side of town. Military guys didn’t typically like your exciting lifestyle, but this one seemed harmless enough to at least flirt with.  

“You come here often?” You asked, turning to him in your seat.  

He grinned at you sheepishly, “Isn’t that my line?”  

You smiled up at him, “Well I guess I’m better at this than you are.”  

He nodded, “Yeah, I’d say you probably are. I’m a bit out of practice.”  

“Don’t worry you’re doing fine. What’s your name?” You winked with a devilish grin. 

“Frankie, and yours?” he asked, reaching out his hand.  

You gave him your name with a shake of his hand. 

He repeated it and immediately felt the noise of the crowd lesson. Suddenly it was just he and you and the beers that were slowly warming on the bar top. 

“So, what do I say now since you’re so much better at this than I am?” He leaned in and you could feel his breathing against your cheek. The closer he got you could almost see your reflection in his deep brown eyes. 

“Hmm, you should probably start with some cheesy pick-up line.” You replied, keeping your tone light, and popping your eye brows up and down. 

Frankie thought for a second, “Oh so I should say something like; you should feel my shirt.”  

You looked at him puzzled for a second, but obliged and reached your hand up to run the material on his arm between your fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin as you did so. The fabric was so tight on his flexing arms you had to do your best to not skip a breath. 

“Know what’s that’s made of?” he asked, slightly giggling to himself.  

You shook your head and pulled your hand back to rest on your lap.  

“Boyfriend material.” He said with a wink.   

Your face went red, and a laugh came tumbling out as you swatted him playfully. He joined in on your laughter and covered his face with his hand.  

“Wow, if that’s you out of practice you must be just swimming in women on a good day.” You jousted back at him.  

Frankie shifted and leaned with his back on the bar. “If my friends ever found out I said that they would never let me live it down.” He smiled at you, one of those big dork smiles that always made you melt.  

“Oh, I will absolutely tell your friends when I meet them.” You grinned at him. 

He nodded back at the bar, “Can I get you a drink?” He asked.  

You were suddenly very aware of what the night was to bring, you weren’t exactly in the bar for a social visit. “No, I’m sorry I’m uh- working tonight so I need to stay sober.”  

“Oh, are you working here? Like your shift hasn’t started yet?” he asked intently.  

You nodded, “Uh yeah something like that. Hey, Frankie I should really get going but can I find you before the end of the night?” You asked as you climbed off the bar stool and nodded at the bartender as he took your glass away.  

He stood up straight, “Yeah that’d be great, I’ll see you later.” He smiled as you retreated through the crowd. He watched as you left, replaying your conversation back in his head as he finally turned his attention to the beers he was supposed to be bringing to his friends.  

Frankie grabbed the four bottles in his hands and held them high enough as he walked through the crowd that he wouldn’t get them spilled by some drunk idiot getting too rowdy. The first band had seemingly ended during your conversation, so the room was now filled with the sound of voices from the customers. He set the beers down on the table when he finally rejoined his friends. Benny had also returned before he did.  

Will reached for his drink, “Geeze took you long enough Fish. Get lost back there?” He asked.  

Frankie took a sip from his beer and leaned with his forearms crossed on the table. “Actually, I was busy talking to a very pretty girl I met at the bar thank you very much. Now drink your piss warm beer.”  

Santiagos interest was suddenly peaked, “A girl? Really? Frankie Morales actually spoke to a living, breathing woman?” His eyes widened with his sarcastic tone. 

Frankie rolled his eyes, “Yeah I did, Pope.” 

Santiago pressed on, “Well, come on now. Tell us all about this totally real girl.” He put quotations around real girl to prove his point that he didn’t entirely believe his friend who has always been the worst at picking up woman. Normally needing to send Will or Santiago in first to act as a wing man. He never used Benny anymore. Benny gave off too much of a golden retriever vibe and women instantly wanted to keep him.  

“If you must know she is beautiful and funny and,” His voice trailed off as his attention was caught by the stage. You were walking out onto it with the rest of the band and situating yourself in front of the microphone in the middle of the stage. “Right there.” he said inquisitively.  

“Hey Houston, are you ready to rock tonight?” You shouted into the microphone and were met with a roar from the crowd.  

“What do you mean right there?” Santiago leaned in; Frankie still unable to take his eyes off you.  

He stuttered, “She’s, right there that’s her on the stage.”  

Benny yelled back at him, raising his voice now that the instruments had started up again. “Who, Karma?” 

“What?” Frankie asked, confused by the name. 

“Karma, the lead singer.” He replied.  

Frankie turned his face back to the group, “Well, that’s not the name she told me.” He scratched his chin as he knew he heard your name right.  

Will spoke up, “That’s probably just a stage name for band.”  

Frankie nodded, realizing he must be right.  

“So, you’re telling me you just picked up the lead singer from the band tonight?” Santiago asked, even more skeptical.  

Frankie hummed to himself, realizing he didn’t actually pick you up. He was so dumbfounded by the conversation that he hadn’t even asked for your number. “We had a great talk and she said she would come find me before the end of the night.” He looked down, slightly dampened by the fact that you may have just been being nice and you might not actually find him.  

The show wore on and he was amazed by your talent and charisma. You enveloped the stage with your big personality and had an amazing voice to boot. The guys all watched on and nodded their heads along with the rock music. Frankie was falling even more for you, watching your body as you danced along to the music in your tight black outfit. He grew a bit of jealously at the men gawking at you on the dance floor but held his head a bit higher knowing he was the one you were flirting with earlier.  

You finally ended the show with a big thank you to the crowd. The guys all clapped their hands and whooped along with the rest of the club. He watched as you collected your things on stage and disappeared behind the curtain. Frankie turned his attention back to the group.  

Santiago said, “Wow, they were really good. Not totally regretting the hearing aides I’m gonna have to get after tonight.”  

Ben patted Frankie on the back, “So you gonna try to find Karma before she leaves?” 

Frankie looked flustered, “I don’t know man did you see her up there? She’s this beautiful, fun, rock star and I’m well. Not that.” He sipped his beer and looked down, unsure of himself.  

The guys all looked to each other with empathy, their friend never had the confidence they had. Santiago conceded in an effort to make Frankie feel better. “Oh, come on man, she’d be lucky to have you. I’m sure she’ll find you before the end of the night.” 

You finished packing up for the night and said goodbye to the band and crew. Except for the guitarist who drove the equipment van and was your ride home. You promised him you wouldn’t be too long, you just had one thing you needed to do before heading out. You were adamant about finding Frankie before the place closed down for the night. You had to move quickly though, as your cool down took longer than you thought it would.  

The crowd was still bustling as you made your way out of the backstage area. Fans cheered for you as you walked by and you smiled at them, trying to scan the crowd for the baseball hat you had seen earlier. Luckily that wasn’t really the look for this kind of crowd so you were hoping he would stick out fairly easily. Just as you were about to give up, you found yourself on the far-left side of the venue and caught sight of a silver chain poking out of the top of a grey T-shirt. You were elated that you had finally found him and pushed yourself through the crowd to tap him on his shoulder. He turned and his eyes went wide at the sight of you standing in front of him.  

“Hey!” He gasped.  

You bit your lip, slightly nervous. “Did you enjoy the show?”  

“Yeah, I did you were awesome!” He said, “I’m so sorry I had no idea who you were when I was talking to you earlier.” 

You smiled back at him “That’s okay, it was a nice talk. I’m glad you didn’t know. Guys tend to act a little differently when they know I’m headlining. They get a bit of a complex about if they can get me home that night.” You answered honestly. 

Frankie nodded; he definitely did not want to be thought of as one of those guys, so he knew he had to play it right. “Well, I really liked talking to you too.”  

Your heart fluttered, he seemed so nice. You didn’t normally have a connection with the guys you met at your shows, but there was something about him that made you want to see him again. “Um, Frankie, I’m glad I caught you and I know I’ve already done this once tonight, but my ride is waiting for me, so I have to get going. Could I give you my number?” 

His mouth gapped, “Yeah, yes that’d be great thanks.” He dug into his pocket to pull his phone out and give it to you.  

You took it from him, after entering your name and number you handed it back to him and motioned you were leaving.  

He nodded goodbye and then thought for a second, “Hey, wait! What do I call you?”  

You winked back at him at him and pointed to his phone before slipping through the crowd. 

Frankie looked down at the contact you had just created on his phone.  

Karma ;)

He looked back up and you were gone, he felt like all the air in his lungs had disappeared in an instant.  

The next morning, you were moving about your kitchen with a spring in your step. You were so used to the punk, tattoo covered guys that frequented your shop and shows, so Frankie seemed like such a breath of fresh air. He was so innocent and spirited. You couldn’t help but check your phone on the kitchen island as you made your brunch. Hoping a text would pop up and you would get to see him again. He didn’t seem the type to take a girl’s number and ghost her, and he definitely didn’t seem like the kind to wait the typical three days before texting a girl to not come off as eager. No, Frankie was different, and you could tell right away. The way his smile was so big when he laughed and he snorted a bit. The way he leaned in to talk to you with so much respect and ensuring not to touch you even once before you’ve shown real interest. The steam coming off the stove top finally snapped you out of your trance. You carefully finished your omelet and settled onto the couch with your coffee to continue your annual binge of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  

Meanwhile, across town, Frankie was doing his own daydreaming about the night before. He sat on the couch with his phone flipping up and down in his hands as he rested his head on the back of the sofa. He let out an agonizing moan as he continued to think about what to do next. He hadn’t felt this lovesick in forever, and you seemed so confident, so he didn’t want to mess it up and scare you off.  

Santiago rounded the couch and sat down on the opposite end. “You gotta calm down man it’s just a text.” He sipped from his coffee and turned on the tv to find a sports channel to play in the background.  

Frankie squeezed his eyes shut, “It’s not just a text, you’ve said it yourself man.” He propped himself up straighter on the couch, “I’m shit at talking to women. I know I’ve only talked to her for like, five minutes but I like her. I don’t wanna screw it up before it even starts.” 

His friend shook his head, “Look man, she could had gone home with probably a dozen guys last night but instead she found you. Asked to give you her number and then went home. She obviously likes you too. Just be yourself and it’ll be fine.” 

Frankies head spun, he knew Santiago must be right, but it was so hard to trust the process. Be myself, he thought to himself. What would Frankie do if he really liked a girl and wanted to see her again. He’d probably call her if he was being honest with himself. However, that seemed so old fashion, and you were a rock star with tattoos and a confidence that would shake the ground. Would you like old fashioned? Or would it be annoying? He figured there was no time like the present to find out.  

He stood up and patted his friend on the shoulder as he made his way to his room for some privacy, closing the door behind him as paced in his room for a minute before finally dialing the phone. He stood with his hand on his hip and bit his lip waiting for the call to connect. 

You had finished your meal and were scrolling on your phone as the show played in the background when it suddenly started ringing. It startled you so much the phone nearly flung out of your hands as you tried to calm yourself. An unknown number, but definitely local based on the area code. You don’t normally answer calls right away, preferring to send it to voicemail and then call the person back if needed, but something about the timing of this call peaked your interest so you decided to answer it on speaker.  

“Hello?” you said, holding the phone just below your mouth with a curious look on your face. 

“Hey, uh- it’s Frankie.”  

Your mouth gapped, you couldn’t believe he was calling you so soon. It made your head spin at his forwardness, but your heart flutter at how old-fashioned he seemed to be. 

“Hey Frankie, what’s up?” You asked. “What’s up” you thought to yourself. What are you seventeen? You rubbed your palm on your forehead. 

“Oh, nothing just at home. I hope I’m not calling too early I’m sure you had a late-night.” 

“No, no it’s fine I’ve been up for an hour now.” 

“Good, good. So, I hope I’m not being to forward but I was uh- wondering if you would be interested in going out sometime?” 

You bit your nail in your nervousness, “Yeah I would love that.” 

“Great, what are you doing tonight?” 

“Nothing, tonight would be perfect actually. This is one of the only Saturdays this month I don’t have a show.” 

“Oh perfect, uh- do you want to go for drinks or dinner or,” 

“Uh- drinks and some appetizers would be good if you want?” You held your breath.  

“Yeah, that sounds great, how about I pick you up at 8?” 

“Okay, I’ll text you my address.” You replied.  

“Sounds good, I’ll see you tonight.” 

You grinned to yourself, “Okay, bye Frankie.” 

“Looking forward to it, bye K-, uh, what do you actually want me to call you?” 

“Oh, yeah you can call me Karma. Kind of a nickname, I think there’s only like, four people that call me by my other name.” You scratched your head, hoping he wouldn’t think your sultry nickname was a red flag.  

“Oh okay, cool. Well than, bye Karma.” 

“Bye.” You said as you clicked the phone off.  

You rocked your head back against the top of the couch and then looked down at the time. You had nothing else planned for the rest of the day other than tidy up the shop and apparently figure out what to wear tonight. He obviously liked your edgy style as he had seen what you were wearing the night before, but a part of you wanted to mix it up a bit and give this old-fashioned guy a treat.  

You got up and immediately ran to your closet, throwing dresses and rompers and shirts all over your room. Trying to find the perfect ensemble to hypnotize your new gentleman friend when your eyes locked onto something in the far back corner of your closet.  

Frankie returned to the living room, grinning at his phone as he sat back down on the couch and looked up at the tv, not saying anything to his friend who was looking at him with squinted eyes.  

“What’s that face all about?” Santiago asked.  

Frankie leaned forward to slide his phone into his back pocket. “Just got off the phone with Karma, we’re going out tonight.” He looked over at his friend with a sly smile on his face.  

Santiago tapped his hand on Frankie’s chest, “Well hot damn, look at you go. Wait did you call her?” he asked, puzzled. 

“Yeah, you told me to be myself and that’s what I wanted to do.” He shrugged.  

“Huh, well more power to you. I like this confident Frankie. Where are you gonna take her?” 

Frankie thought for a second, he would very much like something quiet considering his ears are still ringing from last night, “I think that one pub downtown by the Walgreens is nice and quiet?” He chewed the inside of his cheek as he considered a few other options. Ultimately deciding to just go with that place as it isn’t nearly as busy as some of the other options around town. 

He waited patiently for your address, which you texted to him around dinner time. His face lit up when your name came across the screen with the wink emoji.  

It was 7:55pm when Frankie rolled up outside your house. He looked up at the sign on the front, “Karmas Chaos”. He figured you must run a business out of your house and wondered what it was. He got out and rounded the front of his truck when you opened the front door, and he was suddenly star struck.  

You stood before him with your hair curled in a summer like wave, your white converse on and a beautiful yellow sun dress that showed off your many tattoos. The dress had small straps and a low neckline, it dipped at your waist to accentuate your curves and then flared out to rest at mid-thigh. It had a knot on the back with a cut out just below. It was far more feminine than you were used to, you think you bought it years ago for a cousin’s wedding, but something drew you to it and you thought it would make a good first impression on Frankie.  

He stood there mouth gapped as you walked down the steps, “Hi.” You smiled at him and gave him a little wave. You hiked your shoulder bag higher as it had begun to slip, and you needed something to do with your nervous hands.  

Frankie stalled for a second and finally replied, “Hey, you look great.” He said with a big smile. Suddenly feeling a bit self-conscience about the fact that he is wearing an outfit almost identical to the one he wore last night, except now his T-shirt was black with a band logo on it from a concert he can’t even remember. The material long stretched and over washed to point where the logo had begun fading and breaking apart.  

“You do too.” You responded before leaning in for a quick hug.  

He shuffled his feet, “I was thinking we could go to Burt’s, downtown if that’s okay?” 

You beamed up at him, “Yeah that would be great.” You broke your gaze to round his truck, but before you could reach for the handle Frankie appeared beside you and opened the door. You looked startled, but really you were just amazed by his chivalry. You’ve never had anyone open your door before, so you just nodded your thanks and stepped onto the step bar to jump up into the truck. He swiftly closed it behind you and made his way to jump into the driver’s side.  

As he turned the ignition, the radio fired up again and a familiar tune from Motley Crue came through the speakers. “Oh, I love this song.” You remarked.  

He smiled, “Me too, they’re probably my favourite band.”  

You hummed along to the music. He glanced over at you, “Well come on now, don’t keep that beautiful voice to yourself.” He smiled, the curls peaking out from under his seemingly signature hat dancing in the wind.  

You felt yourself blush but obliged, singing along to the music with the windows down, blowing your hair about as the music filled the cab. When the chorus came around Frankie gave his best imitation of the lead singer and you laughed. He chuckled, “Maybe I’ll leave the singing to you.” 

“No, no you’re great. I could listen to you all night.” You winked at him and he grinned, finally taking his attention back to the road. The rest of the commentary for the drive continued to be about music and favourite bands to see in concert, yours being his new favourite of course.  

You thanked the waitress for your seats and settled into a booth along the wall of the restaurant. It was a little more modern than you thought it would be given what you’ve seen from Frankies taste but definitely not a chain restaurant. There were vintage movie posters adorned on the walls giving it a warm look, but it was met with modern furniture and paint to keep it lively. There was a poster hanging in your booth of a movie you guessed must be from the 50s at least and you stared briefly at the faded colour, reminding you of the faded T-shirt currently sitting across from you.  

Frankie looked at you nervously, “So, I saw the sign on your door. Do you run a business out of your house?” 

You nodded confidently, “Yeah I’m a tattoo artist.” He nodded along, listening intently. “I have a shop in my house that is just me. It’s nice because then I get to choose my hours and can line things up really well with my band practice and shows.” 

“Wow, that’s great. You must be pretty busy balancing both those.” He stated.  

“I try to take Sundays and Mondays off and then I never work before 11am so I definitely still get some free time. I was supposed to have an appointment today, but they rescheduled so I got a totally free Saturday for once.” You smiled; very glad you had the extra time to get ready for this date. “What do you do?” you asked as the waitress reappeared with some waters.  

“What can I get you for drinks?” she asked.  

You replied, “I’ll have a whiskey sour, please.” 

She nodded and looked at Frankie. “Just a Corona, thanks.” 

With that she left the table, leaving you and Frankie alone.  

You looked back at Frankie, unsure if you needed to repeat yourself but before you could speak, he replied, “I’m an instructor at the base, I was a pilot in active duty.”  

Hm, your suspicions on the dog tags were correct. “How long have you served for?” You asked, leaning with your forearms against the dark wood table.  

“Since I graduated from high school, I enlisted right away.”  

You popped your eyebrows up, that’s a long time to be in the service. Most guys you have met from the base were a five-year contract and then out.  

“Wow Frankie, that’s really really amazing. I’m not surprised by the way you carry yourself though that you’ve been in that long.” You said, slightly bashful.  

He looked confused, but still flattered, “Why do you say that?” 

“You just, uh- you know you seem really old-fashioned and proper.” You replied sheepishly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and averting your gaze back to the poster.  

Frankie looked down for a second, “Oh, do you not really like that?”  

“No, no, it’s great.” He perked up at your response. “I actually love it; I’ve never been out with a guy that’s treated me the way you do.” You smiled at him and reached your hand out for him to take. He let out a relived huff and reached his hand up to take yours and give it a slight squeeze.  

“Well, I don’t know hermosa. You just deserve to be treated the best and I’m sorry no guy has ever done that for you.”  

You both beamed at each other, eyes sparkling with desire when the waitress seemingly appeared out of nowhere with your drinks. You quickly broke your hands apart and nodded politely. You wrang your hands together, still feeling the warmth of his much larger hand on yours.  

“Do you know what you’d like for food?” The waitress kindly asked.  

Both of your eyes widened, neither of you had even thought about the food as you were too busy making googly eyes at each other. You looked at each other and gave out a chuckle. “Um, I think we’re gonna need a few more minutes actually.” Frankie nodded along as the waitress left.  

The evening wore on and you shared food and stories. He told you all about his time in the service so far and the friends he’s made along the way. You told him about your business and band and how you’re a really creative person and need all these outlets. You also spoke about your anxiety and how when you’re focused on a tattoo or a song, you get to ease your mind and allow yourself to relax. He commended you and spoke about his time in therapy for some anxiety he had after he was done active duty. None of your exes ever went to therapy or spoke about mental health, so your heart warmed listening to him speak so intentionally.  

Frankie’s truck pulled up and parked out front of your house and you gave a huff of disappointment that the night was coming to an end. You looked at your phone and noticed the time wasn’t too late. You bit your lip and thought to yourself, would it be too much to ask him inside? Would he want to hookup, or would he think that’s all you’re interested in? He looked to you with a sheepish smile on his face, he was clearly disappointed the night was slowly coming to a close as well. You thought it couldn’t do more harm than good if you at least asked him inside for a little bit.  

“Hey Frankie, um- do you? Do you want to come in for a drink?” You asked, trying not to make eye contact so you could hide your reaction should you be met with rejection. 

His face lit up at the suggestion, “Yeah for sure thanks.”  

Your face darted up to meet his and you smiled, getting out of the truck and wandering up the steps to your house. He followed closely behind, placing his hand on the small of your back as you went up the steps, seemingly ready to catch you should you trip.  

You eased the door open and stepped aside to let him in. He passed you with a nod and stood in your living room looking around as you flicked on some lights, kicked off your sneakers and settled your bag on a counter. The room flowed from the living room to a dining table and a kitchen with an island. There were band posters and your own artwork on the walls. The furniture had a 50’s vibe with lots of red and black and white checkers. Your kitchen cabinets were an emerald green with gold accents. He loved how much personality you put into the space and stood staring at one of your drawings of a mermaid covered in tattoos on the wall beside a door.  

You approached him with your arms crossed and looked to the drawing as well. 

“You’re incredible, this is such a cool piece.” He said, smiling at you.  

You nodded back, “Thank you, if you like that you should see the one’s I have in my studio.” You tilted your head to the door beside you and opened it. He followed you in and was greeted by the smell of cleaning products and alcohol wipes. Your studio was small with one tattoo chair in the middle of the room and a workstation along the back wall. The walls were covered in photographs and drawings you’ve done.  

You plopped down on your wheely stool as he lingered around the room, looking at seemingly every piece you’ve posted. “So, mister military.” He looked down at you, resting his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t ask, do you have any tattoos?” 

He looked slightly embarrassed, “No, no I never did. I’ve thought about a few but never pulled the trigger.”  

You nodded, “Well,” You spun in your chair and grabbed your tattoo gun behind you. Spinning back around his eyes went wide, “you want one now?” you giggled to yourself.  

“Uh- hm.” He laughed, looking nervous. “Fuck it yeah let’s do it.” He clapped his hands on his thighs and shook out some nerves with his fingers.  

You beamed at him, extremely excited for the turn the night took. You rolled over to your drawing board, “Okay so what are we thinking? A little cartoon helicopter, a bottle of tequila, a tramp stamp?” He laughed at your line of questioning.  

“Actually uh- there’s this one helicopter I loved flying. The code was UH-1N. I think I’d like that, just something simple.” He kneaded his hands together.  

You started writing, doing a couple different styles of handwriting. You leaned back and showed them to him, and he picked one of the more structured looked fonts. “Alright, get in that chair and I’ll get you prepped.” 

He sheepishly moved over to the chair and rested himself in. “So where do you want it?” you asked as you collected your supplies and prepared the station.  

“Just here below my elbow on the forearm.” He pointed to his right arm.  

 Frankie sat still, watching you work. He could see the wheels turning in your head as you laid down the plastic wrap on the arm rest he would be using, getting the ink ready, sanitizing everything and getting the stencil cut.  

You finally pulled some gloves on and placed the stencil on his arm. “How’s that look?” 

He shifted in the seat to look at his arm, “Yeah that’s great, thanks.” He smiled at you.  

You started buzzing the tattoo gun, “Alright I think we’re good then.” You could feel the heat of his arm through the gloves and your glance waivered slightly to his bicep in his sleeve. Pulled tight from his straining muscle trying to stay still.  

“How much does it hurt?” he asked? 

Your attention went back to him, “Hm? Oh, um, not bad at all. What’s the worst pain you’ve ever had?”  

He took a beat, “Well, I’ve been shot so.” His voice trailed and your eyes went wide. He said he was in active duty for a long time, I guess it makes sense that he was in live fire. However, the thought of him going through something so traumatic made your stomach flip.  

You stuttered, “Yeah, um, that would definitely hurt more than this will, so I think you’ll be fine.” You did your best to put on a confident smile, but really you were now nervous.  

He nodded as you began. His arm didn’t even flinch beneath your hands. You held your head as close to it as you could so you wouldn’t get too distracted by the burning eyes you could feel coming from him.  

Frankie looked at you so intently and he felt a familiar twitch in his pants as he glanced down and caught a glimpse of your cleavage as you were bent over. He tried his best to look around the room, until his mouth gapped at the sight of a photo on the wall which featured a woman topless, holding her breasts showing off a colourful butterfly splayed out on the top of her ribs. The face was cut off, but he instantly recognized the tattoo on the left hand, as it happens to be the one holding onto his arm right now. He quickly averted his gaze, feeling the stretch of his jeans even more now. He couldn’t even feel the needle of the tattoo gun anymore, too busy trying to pry the unholy thoughts from his mind. Everything about you made him burn with desire. He didn’t know where the night would lead, but he was aching to feel your touch more.  

You wiped the last bit of ink off him and smiled at him. “Okay, here you go. Take a look.”  

Bringing his back up from the seat he pulled his arm forward and looked at your work, “That’s great thank you.”  

Nodding, you started cleaning the site and then placed the second skin on it tightly. Pulling off your gloves you grabbed one of your standard info flyers and a small tube of cream. “So, leave that on for a day, take it off in the shower with some soap. It will hurt like a bitch, sorry about that.” He smiled along with you. “No hot tubs or pools and keep this moisturizer on it for a few weeks as it heals. Oh, and no itching. It’s gonna suck but just don’t do it.” You stood from your stool and reached out your hand to help him stand from the awkward seat.  

He grabbed your hand and stood, looking down at you as your faces were so close. “What do I owe you?”  

You flushed, the tone in his voice was suddenly so deep and arousing. You did your best to not show how flustered you were with the sudden change in his demeanor and took a step back. “Oh gosh nothing, I do little tattoos for free like that all the time.” You waved your hands casually. “Plus, I kind of peer pressured you into it so.” You had backed up enough that your ass was now resting against the drawing table with your arms crossed. You hadn’t meant to back up that much, but as you kept stepping, he had followed you. His body still so close, you could see his eyes flick around your face, seemingly taking in every little bit of you.  

He breathed out of his nose deeply, “You wanna go sit down? You look a little lightheaded.” He said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.  

You nodded, looking up to him with sparkling eyes. Full of lust and need. He turned his body so you could pry yourself from the desk that had been digging into you and followed as you headed towards the living room. You positioned yourself on the couch, tucking your legs underneath you as he sat beside and rested his arm on the top of the couch behind you.  

Nervously looking around, trying your best to ignore the ache between your legs as he looked at you with darkened eyes. “Do you need a drink or-?” 

 “You know, I never did ask you why your nickname is Karma?” His Adams apple bobbed as he swallowed deeply.  

Chest turning red, pupils dilating. You were so entranced by this man, you answered softly. “I’m just a uh- big believer in karma and I’ve always really seen it around me. You know, people are good to me, and good things happen and then people who have really wronged me, they uh- don’t always have things work out for them. So yeah, just became something I grew a lot of interest in and then others started noticing it with the people I had in life and so the nickname sparked. Almost like I entice karma into people’s lives, who surround me.” 

He peered down at you, usually this explanation makes people nervous. Frankie only seemed challenged, like he wanted to prove something to you. You’re not sure what happened during that tattoo, but something flipped in this seemingly wholesome man which resulted in him growing a hunger towards you.  

“So, you’re saying if I do good things to you, good things will happen to me?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. You could hear only his breath and your heartbeat.  

“Yeah, I guess.” You lightly giggled, not breaking eye contact with him.  

His eyes grew even darker, and he leaned in. Your breath was caught in your throat as you felt the intense ache between your legs watching him lean into you. His eyes flicking to your lips, you turned your head slightly and leaned in as well, meeting him in the middle with a soft kiss. He brought his hand to your knee and started drawing circles with it on your soft skin. Your hand rose up to cup his face and the intensity suddenly grew. You didn’t expect this first date to go this way, but now you’ve found yourself straddled on his lap on your couch making out like you may die tomorrow. Pulling each other’s hair, nipping at jaws and necks, the incessant moaning growing between you. You felt like you were drunk, but this intoxication wasn’t from any kind of substance, no this was all Frankie. The way he ran his hands all over your body and pulled you down to grind your hot and wet core through your panties on his hard bulge made your head spin.  

He grabbed the bottom of your dress and looked to you with pleading eyes, “Is this okay?” 

You took a deep breath, “It’s more than okay Frankie, I need you.”  

His face turned to a smirk, and he pulled your dress up and over your head, throwing it aside. You had thankfully chosen to forgo your usual everyday bra that gets washed once a month and went without one altogether. He sat back and basked in your exposed breasts. You shivered as he traced a finger on your butterfly tattoo beneath them. His mouth curled into a devilish grin leaning down and sucking on one of your nipples as he palmed and squeezed the other with his hand. You moaned and began grinding on him harder. He pulled himself off and you reached down to pull his shirt off him. The chain and dog tag laden on his chest made your knees quiver. He was so broad and full, a real man you thought to yourself.  

You rejoined your lips, sucking on each other’s tongues as his hand moved down and swiped around on the front of your panties before dipping a finger in and starting to draw little circles on your clit. You bucked up at the sensation and started to lose your technique with your kissing. Your head fell to his shoulder as his pace picked up and he sat there watching you break resolve and come undone to his touch. You felt the build up and then suddenly the knot in your gut broke and you flowed into your orgasm. Frankie somehow knew exactly when it happened because just as you started, he slipped his fingers further down and slid two of them perfectly in your pussy. You groaned at the relief of being able to squeeze onto something. He pumped you slowly as you came down from your high and peppered kisses along your neck while you slumped over him, regaining your breath and strength.  

He pulled his fingers out of you, and you leaned back, holding onto his broad shoulders for balance. He looked at you intently, and you burned for more. You reached between the two of you and startled pulling apart his belt as he held your waist to keep you balanced. He lifted his hips so you could get up and slide his pants and underwear down to the ground. You saw his length spring free and felt your mouth water, it was so perfect in every way with beads of precum seeping from the tip. You quickly fell to your knees and in one fell swoop took his member completely in your mouth. His head fell back at the sensation as you sucked and bobbed your head up and down. You used your hand to stroke the part of it that couldn’t fit into your mouth even if you tried. You worked him up and down, doing your best to take as much as you could down your throat, he reached down put his hand along your neck, feeling it throb with his cock inside.  

“Oh, baby, you keep doing that I’m not gonna last much longer.” He finally sputtered out, trying to keep himself composed.  

You glanced up and finally popped his soaked cock from between your lips. You hurriedly pulled your panties down your legs and took your previous position on top of him.  

“Do you need a condom? I’m on the pill and I’m clean but if you,” you said, scanning his face.  

He ran his hands down your back, “I’m clean too so as long as you’re comfortable.”  

You nodded quickly, kissing him to assure him of your consent and then raised yourself up. His hand slid between the two of you to guide his cock into your wet entrance. You felt it line up and started to slowly ease down onto it. The stretch both burned and excited you.  

His mouth fell open and his head fell back against the couch, “Fuck – baby you feel so good.” 

You smirked at him and groaned when you finally had sunk entirely onto him. He quickly encapsuled your lips in his and squeezed your ass with his hands. You took that as a hint to start moving, so you slowly rocked up and down, rubbing your clit on his hair above his cock. He steadied you as you quickly lost your resolve again, head spinning and becoming more and more heavy as the feeling in your gut grew again. You suddenly felt it happen again as your orgasm crashes into you, squeezing him so tight he moaned and rested his head against yours as he tried to pump your seized body through the feeling. You slowed and looked deep in his eyes, he was truly so handsome, and sweet and fuck was he good at this. You felt something in your chest, a warm feeling that you hadn’t felt in years. You liked this man so much, holy fuck did you like this man. You wanted to spend all your time with him, you wanted to learn everything about him, and learn each and every part of his body.  

You were snapped out of your lucid trance when you felt him buck into you, chasing his own high. You braced yourself by holding onto his neck as he rocked further into you. He bit his lip and held your hips so tight it might bruise. He came to a slow stop when his orgasm hit and he pushed into you one last time, coating your walls.  

The last thing you were expecting was for his cock to swell so much in it’s release that the sudden change in stretch would barrel you into a third orgasm. You squeezed him tight, and he moaned as your bodies slowly fell into one another and stilled. He breathed deeply into your neck as you ran your hand on his chest.  

Through stuttered breaths he said, “You know, I’m really starting to like this whole karma concept.”  

Snickering you pulled your head up and matched his gaze. He too looked like his brain was spinning, trying to analyze everything that just happened and everything that he felt for you.  

Pulling yourself off him, you quickly found your underwear and retreated to your room, excusing yourself. 

By the time you had cleaned up and thrown on a loose band shirt and sleep shorts, he was dressed again and had taken it upon himself to fill a glass of water for each of you. You liked the way he looked in your kitchen, so domestic and loving. You graciously accepted the water and walked back to the couch with shaky knees, he followed you sitting on the couch and putting his arm around you as you both sipped from your drinks.  

Frankie put his glass on the painted black wood coffee table, “So, rock star, what do you typically do on your nights off to relax?”  

You hummed, “Well, I don’t know if it’s your thing but I’m rewatching one of my favourite shows right now if you’d like to stick around for a while?” 

He smiled back at you, “Oh yeah, what is it?” 

“Buffy the vampire slayer.” You looked to him, worried he may be turned off by your choice in television, you pegged him more for a sports or war show guy.  

Thankfully, he was nothing like you thought he was going to be. “Buffy really? Fuck I love that show, watched it when it came out.” 

“Really?” You gapped, “Well then, we’re definitely watching it. I watch it every year at least once.” You reached for the remote on the coffee table and started queuing it up.  

“What’s your favourite episode?” He asked.  

You looked up, trying to figure out your answer, “Oh man, that’s hard. I really like the majority of the episodes in the first season to be honest. That season is by far my favourite. How bout you, any episode in particular?” 

“Oh yeah that’s easy, season four, episode one. Best episode in the series for me, it’s a classic. Great guest actors.” he says confidently.  

You looked to him, taken aback by the fact that he even knew episode numbers, “Really?” you ask, “Well I guess I know which one we’re gonna watch right now.” You scrolled through the series and selected the episode he requested.  

Both of you fell into each other and snuggled on the couch, watching the show and talking about anything that came to mind. It felt so easy you thought, and maybe that’s okay. Love is supposed to be easy after all. It will take time to accept that, but if Frankie continues to be the man you think he is, you’ll be falling endlessly for him.  

It will be easier than singing on stage, it will make you forget about your troubles more than the sting of a tattoo needle, and soon enough, he’ll make you forget all about karma because he’ll bring nothing but good into your life.  

[museofvoid]

Can I just bring something up about Wyll that I feel is overlooked a lot of the time? Which is that he's a little bit arrogant. He likes to boast and tell stories about his past adventures and monsters he's slain, he encourages bard song about himself. He's disappointed when the tiefling kids have heard of Karlach but not him. He does a superhero pose when he introduces himself for goodness sake!

Now don't get me wrong, he's still very much that selfless and self-sacrificing hero who wants to inspire people and wholeheartedly cares for the Sword Coast. Wyll is a good man! But that doesn't mean he's not enjoying the attention it brings. He's basically living out his childhood fantasy of being a great hero and he loves it! Despite the ugly parts of it.

People also like to see Wyll as someone who's saving himself for marriage, which I definitely can see, but as I said, he revels in the attention, and I honestly don't believe he's above spending the night with some maiden he picked up in a tavern during his travels, from time to time. In game lf you have him in your party together with Shadowheart and Lae'zel he'll openly flirt with both of them. In front of the other.

Now do I believe part of it is an act? That the Blade of Frontiers is a sort of persona he puts on to inspire bravery, or because he feels like he needs to? Yes. Does that mean it's all fake? No.

[sparkly-scales]

Jealous Much? Tav x Astarion, BG3

Summary:

“Darling, I’m so glad you had fun sauntering around like an inebriated peacock, but it’s time for us to retire for the night. Our friend here can find somewhere else to bury his blade.” Venom drips from his words as he glares daggers at the blade of frontiers. His grip tightens around you as he leads you away. You turn your head and silently mouth the words sorry before focusing your attention on your lover. “Astarion, what’s gotten into you?” He turns to you, a wicked grin spreads across his face. “It seems my little love has forgotten her place.” Your possessive, jealous, vampire spawn boyfriend has a breeding kink.

Notes:

This is my first time writing smut so please bear with me here. This started off as more of an exercise to improve my writing skills but this is how it ended up. Thank you for choosing to read my fic, you could have (and probably should have) chosen any other fic to read but you chose mine and I am eternally grateful for that!

Work Text:

You glide and twirl across the camp as Wyll guides you through a complex waltz. You were not much of a dancer, that was a well known fact as you struggled to keep up with Wyll’s intricate movements. You can’t help but laugh as you accidentally trip over your own two feet. Wylls arms catch you before you fall flat onto your face and you lean into him to catch your balance. Eventually you recompose yourself and continue on with the dance, attempting to follow along. You’re having so much fun that you don’t notice the pale elf brooding off in the distance, his crimson eyes glaring a silent warning at the two of you as you continue on with your dance. He despised the way you were looking at Wyll, allowing him to hold you so close to his chest, allowing the devil to run his hands over your body like that. The Audacity. Had you forgotten that you were his? Truly darling?

Perhaps you needed a reminder.

He continues to watch you intently as Wyll dips you one last time feeling relieved once Wyll releases you from his hold. The two of you back away from another in a fit of giggles.

“I told you I sucked at this.” You say. That’s something he could agree with, he thinks. You really were a terrible dancer. You reminded him of a drunkard he had once met at a tavern in Rivington. If it weren’t for Wyll he would have found your efforts quite entertaining.

Wyll laughs as he looks down at you, a sly smirk on his face. “You were not joking. But I’m certain you can improve. Nothing a little practice can’t fix.”

“Are you inviting me back for lessons?” You ask, watching as Wyll’s face turns the slightest shade of pink.

“I am.” He says, taking your hand into his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles. If looks could kill Wyll would be a dead man. “Would that be something- You're surprised when Astarion pops up beside you, snatching your hand away from Wyll while wrapping his arm firmly around your waist.

“Darling, I’m so glad you had fun sauntering around like an inebriated peacock, but it’s time for us to retire for the night. Our friend here can find somewhere else to bury his blade.” Venom drips from his words as he glares daggers at the blade of frontiers. His grip tightens around you as he leads you away.

You turn your head and silently mouth the words sorry before focusing your attention on your lover. “Astarion, what’s gotten into you?”

He turns to you, a wicked grin spreads across his face. “It seems my little love has forgotten her place.”

“We were just dancing.” You say. “It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Are you sure about that? Because when I was watching it didn’t seem that way. The way he held you in his arms, the way you looked at one another. The way he kissed your knuckles… There was a spark there. And I need to douse it before it becomes a blaze.” He says, shoving you into his tent.

You place a hand over your chest feigning shock, realizing what was happening. “Astarion Acunin, are you…jealous?” You ask, smirking up at him. He doesn’t answer you and he doesn’t look the slightest bit amused as he shuffles into his tent.

“Undress. Now.” He commands.

You hesitate at first, taking a moment to take the sight of him in. He looks almost feral. His silver curls are wild, freed from their pomade prison. His fangs are bared and his pupils are blown so wide that his eyes almost look black. Seeing him so disheveled, so undone, made your thighs tremble in a way they hadn’t before. You liked seeing this side of him and you wanted to push it further.

“Make me.” You say, folding your arms over your chest defiantly.

That fanged grin of his grows, his pointy canines now on full display. “Oh you play a dangerous game, darling.” He growls. “But if you insist.”

In a split second he’s on top of you, straddling you and pinning you to the ground. He unsheathes his dagger, placing the cool metal of the blade on your collar bone. He slowly runs it down to the center of your chest, just where the opening of your tunic begins. “Hold still or I might just cut you.”

You force yourself to stay as still as a statue, watching intently as he moves the blade down the fabric of your shirt, the material ripping in its wake as it travels further down the length of your body. By the time he’s done your clothes are nothing but scraps of fabric scattered around you. He’s a bit caught off guard when he discovers that you’re not wearing undergarments.

“There, much better. But I can’t help but notice your lack of underwear. Were you expecting something little love? Or rather someone?” He asks, resting the blade of his dagger on your inner thigh.

In all honesty you had just been in such a hurry that morning that you had forgotten to put them on. But you weren’t going to tell him that. You instead say,

“Maybe I was.”

You feel the steel of his blade dig a little deeper into your thigh as he presses it into your skin. “Dare I ask who?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “I suppose whoever would want to satisfy me on this fine night.” You don’t really mean that. You would never think to seek out someone else’s company, especially when this handsome, pale elf was so keen on you. Deep down you were certain he knew that too but who's to say he wasn’t enjoying this little game of yours just as much as you were?

“You have some gall you know? I’ve always liked that about you.” He lowers himself so that his face is close to yours. You can feel the icy chill of his breath as he speaks. “But, I think it’s time that I remind you that you’re mine.”

Before you have the chance to protest his lips crash down onto yours, pulling you into a deep, sloppy, kiss. His fangs graze your bottom lip in the moment, drawing a small amount of blood which he happily laps up. Once he’s satisfied he begins to trail his kisses down your neck, occasionally stopping to suckle on your flesh. Tender red and purple marks are left in his wake as he travels further down your body, little warnings to those who dared to try and court you. You are taken. You are his.

You gasp as his mouth finds your nipple, suckling at the sensitive little pink bud while his fingers simultaneously travel down your body until they find what they’re looking for. Your clit is aching for him, the feeling between your thighs growing ever stronger as he continues to suckle and kiss the most sensative areas of your flesh. You want to give in right then and there, to soothe the feeling that’s growing ever stronger within your core. But you’re loving this little game you’ve accidentally started. Being disobedient and brattish makes him wild and dangerous. And if there’s anything you’ve learned about yourself in the past several weeks it’s that you love danger. He gently slides his fingers between your folds, grunting in approval when he feels how slick you are.

“I doubt this is any of Wyll’s doing.” He says, breaking the kiss to taunt you. “Gods you are absolutely soaked darling.”

“And what if it is Wyll’s doing? What if it is Wyll that makes me so wet?” You ask.

Without warning he shoves two of his fingers deep inside of you, extracting an elicit moan from your lips. Music to his ears. “Then I’ll just have to do better, won’t I? And with as vanilla as he is, that won’t be difficult to do.” He turns his attention to your other breast as he continues to shove his fingers in and out of you. You try to hold back your moans, doing your very best to keep quiet but this just feels so damned good. His palm brushes your clit as he does so, teasing that little bundle of nerves and you can feel yourself getting close. Gods, you’re so so close. And then he stops. You can’t believe the noise that comes out of you when he retracts his hand.

He props himself up onto his knees, looking down at you with that smug grin he wore so well. That bastard! Gods If you could only see the look on your face right now. A mixture of disappointment and desperation, a result of the pleasure he had so deviously denied you.

“What? Not satisfied, darling?” He asks, his voice taunting.

“You’re an asshole!” You growl, moving to get up. He places a hand on your chest, stopping you before you can get up off the ground.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

You hesitate for a moment, knowing what you’re about to say is going to set him off, but you ultimately let the words slip off your tongue. “I’m going to go find Wyll, perhaps he can finish-

His hand is around your throat, gripping it tightly. “I don’t want to hear you say his name again tonight? Is that understood?” You nod, but he keeps his hand in place. “The only name I want coming off those perfect lips of yours is mine.” He releases you before he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your hips to where your ass is up in the air. You feel yourself getting excited, the ache between your thighs growing stronger now as you imagine the feeling of his cock filling you. You instead get something else entirely. A loud smack sounds throughout the camp as his hand makes contact with your ass cheek. You let out a surprised yelp. This was certainly unexpected.

“You’ve been a very naughty girl tonight? You know that, don’t you darling?” He asks before smacking you again. “Answer me.”

“Ye-yes.” You say, your voice quivering.

He smacks you again, this time hitting your other cheek, your skin stings from the contact. “But I’ll admit, I think I rather enjoy it when you’re naughty like this. Playing these little mind games with me.” He lowers himself down to your ear, his breath hot as he growls, “Because in the end I get to punish you. And I’ve always wanted to fuck you as punishment.”

One last smack and you can hear him shuffling behind you, presumably unlacing his trousers.

“If I were still alive do you know how I’d show the world that you’re mine?” He asks, lining up the tip of his cock to your slick entrance.

“How?”

He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him. “I’d breed you. I’d fuck you every night, spilling my spend into you until you were heavy and swollen with my child! The world would know that you belonged to me and no one would dare try and take you!”

“Then breed me. Fuck me. Show me I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He thrusts into you, hard, filling you to the brim with his cock. You cry out his name as he stretches out your walls, the wet, slapping sound of his body clashing with yours fills the air around you with a lewd ambience. With how slick you are you’d be surprised if your other companions didn’t hear the wet, squelching, sounds of you getting fucked. If they didn’t they certainly heard the moans and cries of Astarions name crying from your lips. Desperate pleas begging for more.

“Yes Darling, let them know who you belong to!” He exclaims, continuing to thrust himself as deep as he can into you. “Let them know who’s fucking you right now. Let them know that you’re mine!”

“God’s Astarion! Yes, I’m yours! I’m yours!” You cry. He continues on, keeping his pace steady as he slams in and out of you. You’re so close again and he knows it by the way your body tightens beneath him, the way you tighten around his cock.

“Come for me my love. For me and me only.”

It doesn't take much longer until you’re brought to bliss. You throw your head back as your orgasm tears through your core, your thighs shake as your walls clench around his cock. His name falls off your lips once more before you’re a panting, quivering, mess beneath him.

“Gods darling. I’m…I’m so close.” He growls. It doesn’t take long before he reaches his own climax, letting out a series of primal sounding grunts as he buries himself deep into you, holding you there as he releases his spend. By the time it’s all said and done the two of you are a sweaty tangled mess of limbs. He holds you close to him as the two of you take a moment of reprieve.

“So, do you think Wyll could ever elicit those sounds from you?” He asks, breaking the momentary silence that had formed between the two of you.

“No. I think you’re the only one who can unravel me like this.” You say, burying your face into his chest. “You had no reason to be jealous.”

He scoffs. “Jealous? Darling, please. I wasn’t jealous in the slightest. I was just playing along with your little game. As if Wyll could ever steal you away from me.”

“The game didn’t start until after you got me in your tent.” You say, smirking up at him.

He lets out a sigh. “Fine, maybe I was a little jealous. But can you blame me? You’re the most exquisite creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of sharing my bed with. I don’t want someone else to come along and ruin our fun. That would ruin me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, I promise.” You reassure him. “By the way, interesting little kink you’ve got there. Pregnant women get you going eh?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not elaborating on it if that’s what you’re trying to do here.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before pulling you closer to him. “Now rest my love. We have to get up early and we only have so much time left before the sun rises.”

******************************************************************

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. If you like this check out my Archive of our Own, ObsidianRose96

[baldurs-gape]

Broken Hallelujah

The last thing the party needed was for Astarion's 'siblings' to make an unexpected visit in the middle of the night. They were already exhausted and battered, in need of a good night's sleep so the worst outcome was yet another fight. It didn't go well. Astarion was spirited away after taking a series of heavy blows that rendered him helpless and curled up on the floor. Storming Cazador's palace was out of the question in the state everyone was left in. Plus, taking on a vampire in the middle of the night was madness. By reluctant mutual agreement, Astarion's rescue was going to have to wait until daytime.

Plans were all very well but it was rare for them to be followed without a hitch. There was the matter of Gortash's Steelwatch which needed to be brought down as soon as possible. Finding the clown's torso was a happy little accident but it needed to be lugged back to the tavern because it was so heavy. And there was the small matter of needing to stock up on supplies before they could even consider getting Astarion back. Night was upon the party all too soon. Astarion was going to have to survive another night before getting rescued.

Daylight came again and more unexpected interruptions. An urchin was pleading with the barkeep, something about only wanting to deliver an important message. It was a good act, almost enough to convince Gale that the he did have a message to pass on rather than simply looking for a way in to pilfer some valuables.

"it's you!" The child's eyes were fixed on Wyll and Lae'zel let out an unimpressed tsk. "Blade of Frontiers! We need your help!"

Only a little charmed, karlach gave Wyll a nudge and a grin, a pleased 'told you so'. Just because he now had horns made him no less of a hero and defender of the Coast. The boy approached without fear, cap literally in hand.

"Please, Mr. Blade," he began, trying to be formal, "we need your help down at the dock. Some awful, vile creature has taken residence overnight and is obstructing our work."

"What kind of creature?" Wyll asked, torn between amusement and concern.

"Bossman says it's probably some deformed mercreature! Hisses and screeches from where it's squeezed itself between crates. Probably killed some cats or something because there's blood all over the planks. It screams what sounds like "go away" from a throat that wasn't made for speech."

All very concerning. Wyll looked at the other three. "It'll take maybe an hour by the sounds of it." A tinge of guilt coloured his voice, "Vampires are asleep until sunset. Another hour won't make much of a difference."

Lae'zel nodded in agreement while Karlach hesitated. Only Gale's lips were pressed into a thin line.

"We need to get Astarion free. He was already hurt when they took him."

"That's one being's benefit against that of many," Wyll argued. "We put one injured creature out of its misery and the dock workers can go back to their duties."

Clearly outnumbered, Gale sighed. He hated being in the minority, before all this mess, he just had to suggest something and it happened. Now, even outright saying how things should be wasn't enough to make it happen. Expression mildly thunderous and with half a mind on petty vengeance of blowing a few crates up to express his displeasure, he followed the others to the docks.

Finsing where the creature had holed up wasn't exactly difficult. Judging by the amount of blood, it had dragged a whole ox into its lair, not just a cat or two. A gaggle of workers stood a safe distance away, necks craning to catch sight of it. All too telling was the broken pitchfork near a wonkily piled of crates. Just enough of a gap between them for something to squeeze in and set up camp.

Sword pulled out, Wyll approached. He squinted into the dark, blade raised and ready to defence. The hiss that came from the crevice was hoarse and weak. Whatever it was, if left alone for a day or so, it would probably die anyway.

Gale watched as Wyll crouched down to get a better look. From his position he had the perfect view as another hiss made him flinch but peered in. No attack was coming forth. Not from Wyll and not from the creature either. In fact, the wooden boxes moved as though the creature was pressing further into the darkness and meager cover it had found.

"Just toss a caustic bulb in," Lae'zel offered, poised and ready to pounce.

Patience gone, Karlach marched closer. "This is easier." The top crate was hefted up and easily discarded to the side with an ominous rattle. A pained screech went up as the creature tried to hide. At the same time Wyll's exclamation was just as loud.

"Astarion?!"

For a long second everything hung in the air. Gale craned to get a better look but only saw blood smeared flesh and a mop of filthy hair. In slow motion the head raised and feral red eyes scanned the threats. The moment another hiss left Astarion's throat, the world snapped back into motion.

Without thought, Gale was vaulting over the crate he was behind, rushing to get to Astarion. Lae'zel sheathed her sword and Wyll stepped back in shock. Unthinking, Gale pushed Karlach to the side and dropped to his knees, hand reaching to cup Astarion's face gently.

"What did they do to you, my love?"

The snarling his twisted into an agonised sob as Astarion sagged. Still, he didn't say anything, slumping into Gale's touch. In the light of day the damage was easy to perceive but not easy to see. Astarion's face was bloodied, Gale would have put good gold on a broken cheek. A lot of the blood was around his lips and chin though and, at first, he thought maybe Astarion had had a chance to feed. Yet that should have helped with the healing. Another look and Gale wished he hadn't. As Astarion took a heaving breath through trembling lips, he could see gaps where fangs had been broken off. Gale couldn't help the wince of sympathy. Gathering him closer, his hands brushed over a familiar back but he didn't feel just the scars. Instead, his hands touched wet and sticky lines. Adjusting them, Gale regretted his choices. The scars were near enough obliterated by vicious lines of split skin. At a guess it was the aftermath of a frenzied whipping.

"Get Shadowheart," he croaked at the others. He wasn't versed in healing magic, none of them were. Helping Astarion rearrange his limbs into something comfortable was proving impossible. He was in the blood soaked remnants of his sleep pants, feet bare and Karlach tried to gently pull shards of glass out. All through it, Astarion got quieter and quieter. Too quiet and Gale clutched a him.

"Help's coming, hold on."

Almost not soon enough, Shadowheart was dashing towards them, Halsin on her heels. Blue healing magic glowed around them and a hand thrust a potions bottle to Gale.

"Get it into him."

Easier said than done. Astarion could barely sip, coughed and choked on every other small mouthful. A weak, trembling hand even tried to shove the bottle away but Gale held firm despite everything in him screaming to not force Astarion into anything.

"Why isn't he healing?" he growled in frustration as Shadowheart sat back, spells exhausted.

It was Halsin's turn to kneel by them, the golden glow of his magic strong. He offered Astarion a soft smile and looked over to Gale.

"Spells will target the most critical injuries first." A sadness overtook his features. "Sometimes it's more important to get someone healed than to assess what injuries have been sustained."

Cold seeped into Gale and not just from holding Astarion close. He couldn't see a single part of Astarion that had healed. Whatever other injuries he had, they weren't visible.

Finally the potion bottle was empty and Gale discarded it carelessly in favour of brushing fingers through Astarion's filthy hair. It had Astarion stirring to blearily blink at them. Gone was the mask of aloofness, the pretence of immortal invulnerability. Instead all that was left was a breaking heart left bleeding in the open for all to gawk at.

"You didn't come." An accusation, a gut wrenchingly pained statement, a hollow cry of disappointment. "You didn't come."

"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry." Gale should have kicked up a fuss, they should have gone the moment the sun rose after Astarion was snatched. Guilt gnawed at him. He and Halsin should have gone, even if nobody else was willing. It was what Astarion would have done, in fact had done when Orin had snatched Halsin.

The warmth of Halsin enveloped them from Astarion's other side. Together, the two of them tried to hold Astarion together as he began to shake apart with emotions he could no longer contain.

"He did the ritual. Was so angry. Livid." A hand ghosted over his own lips, fingers feeling the memory of agony. "Said it was my fault."

It made no sense but, for now, it didn't have to. Gale held him closer and looked to Halsin for guidance. This kind of thing played more to his strength than Gale's.

"Not your fault. He's a wretched cur for making you even think that. Once you're better, we'll rid the world of him together if you'd like. Raze the castle to the ground. I'll serve his head on a platter if that is what you need."

Slow clapping interrupted them. Raphael of all people was sauntering closer, hands in front of him.

"Bravo, little one! Bravo."

Gale willed a spell into his hand and aimed it at the intruder. "Not now, dickwad."

"Oh but now is exactly the right time." Standing, he gazed down at Astarion with indulgent affection. "You might have just made it to the top of my favourites list."

Bristling at the threat such words held, Halsin shifted to cover Astarion as much as he could.

"You're not welcome, Raphael. Not that it has ever stopped you before."

"But I come bearing gifts. Yes, gifts! You see, Astarion has just created the hottest gossip of hell. And, because he is a friend of mine, I am now an elevated denizen of Hell." Preening, Raphael waited for a reaction which never came. It didn't deter him in the slightest. "You see, our beloved Astarion here was charged with bringing Cazador 7000 souls for his grand Ascension. And hwat a busy little spawn he's been. Two hundred years and over 7000 victims lured back. Makes you shiver, doesn't it? Not all of them survived though."

"None of them did," Astarion replied, voice rough and raspy.

"Well, quite. Cazador had a rather large appetite, didn't he? But 7000 of those you lured back he fed from, turned into spawn and stashed under his palace, didn't he?"

Eyes closed, Astarion nodded. "It was my fault."

"Indeed. But Cazador only wanted the beautiful for his ascension so he was choosy about who he turned. But finally, at long last, after centuries of waiting, he had it." Raphael laughed coldly. "He performed the rite, didn't he? Tell me, what was it like?"

"Like watching the ringmaster from a torture rack, what do you think?"

"Oh to have seen his face though. Completing his ritual, calling Mephistopheles to claim his souls, only for daddy dearest to appear, look at all your victims and say-" here, he paused in the hopes that Astarion would help act out the stroy. Stubborn silence left him sniffing, offended at the lack of participation. "Mephistopheles says 'where are the souls?' and looks around again."

Slapping his knees, Raphael cackles as if it was the funniest thing in the entirety of the world. "Where are the souls?" he repeated with more mirth.

"Very droll," Gale replied, utterly unamused. "Maybe this is Avernus humour rather than Faerun humour."

"You don't understand!" Still hooting, Raphael struggled to stand straight. "They were all spawn! 7000 spawn, not a single soul between them."

"So Cazador failed?" It was Halsin who asked, blunt and flat.

The same time Raphael exclaimed an elated "yes", Astarion let out a bitter scoff. "As if that wasn't obvious. Took it out on me, blamed me for it."

"And so-" Raphael cut in, undeterred, "-I come with two gifts." He snapped a finger. "Ta-dah!" The trio stared without a single clue as to what had happened. "Oh for crying out loud, you're free! Still a spawn but free of Cazador's influence."

"Oh." Astarion didn't seem elated at the news. "The tadpole was already doing that."

"Yes, but think of after! Think of the future."

Halsin cleared his throat. "You said two things?"

"Greedy." Raphael booped Halsin on the nose. "But yes." Another finger click. This time Astarion shivered.

Eyes wide with hope, Gale looked over him. "Did he give you your soul back?"

Eyes closed, Astarion shook his head while Raphael let out a delighted giggle. "No, silly! You're more greedy than bear-boy here. He's fully healed!"

Which was great but it wasn't anything they couldn't have done. It didn't do anything but fill Gale and Halsin with cold dread. Living in hope had been better, easier. They knew for sure now, Astarion truly didn't have a soul.

[weaveandwood]

The Bard and The Blade Chapter 1: What a Day

Wyll/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3

Summary:

What if you met your favorite hero and they fell in love with you?

He stuck out his hand to shake hers for an introduction. “Wyll Ravengard, Blade of -”  “- Blade of Frontiers, I know. Big fan here.” Rosalind interrupted as she shook his hand, actually shook his hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m Rosalind Sunlark,” she introduced herself. She thought she saw a flash of recognition cross his eyes, but it passed in less than a moment before their minds connected, which meant The Blade had also been on the mindflayer ship.  “Seems like we’re in the same predicament,” he said, his smile replaced with a serious countenance.

AN: I had a lot of fun writing this! I hope you enjoy my new fic!

Rosalind Sunlark was having a weird as hell day. 

Waking up on a mindflayer ship? Having a tadpole in her brain that will turn her into a mindflayer? Somehow surviving a fall out of a crashing ship that should have killed her if not for some magical force? 

Pulling a wizard out of a rock?

Fine - just another day on the Sword Coast, if she was being honest. Weird things happen here on the daily. She had sung about most of them, it felt like, when she performed at her favorite coffee houses and taverns in Baldur’s Gate.

But seeing The Blade of Frontiers? It was too much. Her brain was having trouble reconciling what her eyes were seeing. She recognized him immediately, and even if she hadn’t, he did that thing that folk heroes do and introduced himself to his enemies while brandishing his rapier. He was the folk hero she sang about the most, the subject of stories she wanted to pass on to everyone in her vicinity whether they wanted to hear it or not, the person who legends should be written about. He was The Blade of freaking Frontiers.

In front of her. Wielding a blade. Taking down goblins without getting so much as a scratch.

She needed to sit down. 

An arrow shot past her, the draft causing strands of her hair to rustle as it flew by. She shook her head and blinked twice, remembering she was in the middle of a battle, helping the Blade of Frontiers. She aimed her crossbow at a particularly ugly goblin and amplified her voice. 

“Pernicious, putrifying pissant!”

The goblin winced and was distracted as her crossbow bolt found its mark, taking the goblin down completely. 

“Nice shot!” she heard from across the clearing. From The Blade himself. She smiled and gave what was potentially the most awkward wave she had ever given. She was going to pass out.

What a great day Rosalind Sunlark was having. 

******

“Nice shot!” 

Wyll did a double take when he saw who shot the bolt that took down a goblin in one fell swoop, having to stifle a chuckle at the vicious mockery the bard uttered from across the field before shooting. The bard looked familiar, somehow. Something tickled at the back of his mind, and he was positive it wasn’t his brain’s new houseguest, courtesy of the mindflayers. Was that…surely it couldn’t be The Sunlark? Not all the way out here. She was a firm fixture of the Baldur’s Gate music scene. And yet…

Clang! The sound of his steel against a goblin’s brought him back to the task at hand. He needed to focus, the Blade of Frontiers didn’t get distracted by a pretty girl who was a good shot. 

He saw the flash of bright, almost white-blonde hair as the bard assisted one of her party, a wizard from the looks of it, with a healing spell then rammed a shortsword into the nearest enemy’s stomach with a shout of desperation. 

He smiled to himself as he ran his rapier through the last of the goblins. He most definitely would get distracted by pretty girls who were good shots and absolutely brutal in battle, even if her fighting skills were a little raw. 

Especially this one, if she was who he thought she was. 

He was transported back to Baldur’s Gate on a warm summer evening when he was almost seventeen, walking through the streets with a few of his friends, sons of other nobles. He didn’t get much time to himself after his studies - his father, newly promoted to Grand Duke, thought his time was better spent training with the sword to eventually take his place as a Flaming Fist, then as Grand Duke in the future, so he relished the time he got to spend with them, being as normal as sons of nobles could be - swimming naked in fountains, wandering about the lower city, participating in minor mischief that only sons of men with privilege would be able to get away with. If he was being honest, though, they were mostly looking at pretty girls and talking about adventures they wanted to have outside of the city.

Strolling down one of the larger plazas in the lower city, they were all laughing and joking about some prank they had just pulled when he heard the faintest melody of a lute, a soft mezzo soprano voice drifting over the din of the crowd who were all absorbed in their own conversations and cups of wine. He looked around and saw a bard sitting at the far side of the plaza. The dancing lights surrounding her cast a warm glow, like she was illuminated by fifty candles. Her light white-blonde hair was practically incandescent as she sang, and her voice made him want to move closer and closer. There was a small crowd, maybe twenty or so people, standing around her, watching and swaying back and forth to the music. 

He was transfixed, even at that distance. A hand waved in front of his eyes, drawing his attention back to his friends. 

“Wyll, you there, man?” He said with a laugh. “We’re going to go get some drinks at the Elfsong, you in?” 

He looked back at the bard. “You guys go on without me, I think I’m going to stay here a little while longer. I’ll meet up with you there.” 

******

“Wow, that guy was a prick,” Rosalind remarked, reaching out a hand to help Zevlor to his feet after getting clocked by Aradin despite her attempts at defusing the situation. “You okay?” 

Zevlor affirmed he was fine and started talking about the tensions in the grove between the tiefling refugees and the druids. Rosalind tried to pay attention, she really did, but when she looked over Zevlor’s shoulder, she saw a glimpse of a training platform with small tiefling kids being taught how to swordfight. It looked like they had a guest teacher - it was him. Now was her chance to introduce herself. Gods, what if he - 

She startled as Gale elbowed her in the ribs, bringing her attention back to where it should have been. Zevlor looked at her, confused. She definitely should have been listening instead of daydreaming.

“I’m so sorry, what was the question? I must have gotten hit in the head during that battle,” she laughed, trying to play off how rude she was being. 

“I asked your name,” the tiefling said, smiling warmly at her. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I’m Rosalind. And this is Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion,” she smiled as she made introductions. Gale was the most exuberant of all of them, eager to learn more about the tieflings and their journey out of Elturel. Normally, Rosalind would be eager to learn more too, to add to her lore as potential material for future songs. The journey of the tieflings would actually be pretty epic, but…him. She felt her gaze drifting back to the training session.

Astarion leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Have your eye on a certain handsome hero? It looks like Gale has this under control by not shutting up so now is your chance - go.” She nodded and slinked off, attempting to be discreet about it. She smiled to herself. She knew it was a good idea to invite the pale elf on their journey, she liked him already. 

As she got closer to the platform, her heart started beating faster and faster. She hadn’t felt nerves like this since her first paid performance in that large plaza in Baldur’s Gate all those years ago - gods she must have been only seventeen. She shook her hands and exhaled, trying to calm herself before stopping a few feet away to watch for a minute. 

“You don’t have to be as good as me, you just have to buy yourself enough time to be able to run,” she heard him tell a child. Such a frightening scenario for one so small, but a strategy she knew all too well from her own childhood. 

The Blade of Frontiers noticed her standing near the platform and smiled at her. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out, she thought. 

“You had some pretty great shots out there, any advice for these kids?” He said as he beckoned her to come closer with a nod of his head. After looking around to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else, Rosalind stepped up onto the platform and put on her cool, calm, and collected face, even though inside she was a storm of nerves and excitement. 

“Alright,” she crouched down to be at eye level with the kids. “Be sure to back up your friends. You’ll only get through a fight if you stick together. And then you can tell all your other friends stories about your heroics. Then they tell their friends, and they tell their friends, one of whom happens to be a bard, and that’s how legends are started.” The kids cheered and raised their wooden swords before their instructor urged them to take a break and get a drink of water, leaving her alone on the platform with The Blade. She smiled as she stood up. 

He stuck out his hand to shake hers for an introduction. “Wyll Ravengard, Blade of -” 

“- Blade of Frontiers, I know. Big fan here.” Rosalind interrupted as she shook his hand, actually shook his hand. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted, that was rude. I’m Rosalind Sunlark,” she introduced herself. She thought she saw a flash of recognition cross his eyes, but it passed in less than a moment before their minds connected, which meant The Blade had also been on the mindflayer ship. 

“Seems like we’re in the same predicament,” he said, his smile replaced with a serious countenance.

“Indeed it does.” She took a deep breath. Now or never. “I know you’re The Blade of Frontiers and all, but my party all has the same affliction. We’re looking for a healer and you’re welcome to join. If you want. If not, that’s alright. Totally fine. I’m sure you’re busy.” She was rambling. Why did she ramble when she got nervous? Singing in front of hundreds of people was easier than talking to him. 

“Actually -” The tadpoles connected their brains again, interrupting Wyll. The image of a devil’s advocate flashed through their linked visions. Wyll laughed softly, “As I was saying, actually that sounds great, but I am currently hunting down a devil who will lay waste to the Sword Coast if not dealt with.”

“Hmmm…two big problems at once. How about you join us and we can help you hunt this devil down? We may not be seasoned heroes, but I do have a wizard that seems to know what he’s doing most of the time. That has to count for something, right?” She smiled at Wyll. Why did that name sound familiar?

He gave her an easy smile. Gods, that smile already made her weak in the knees and she only knew him for five minutes. “That sounds like a plan. I have some things to take care of, but I will meet up with you in a few hours. Until then, please, explore the grove and speak with these tieflings. I imagine their stories would provide a bard with plenty of material. Maybe help spread a kind word about the refugees.”

“How did you know I was…right! The violin strapped to my back,” she laughed. “Obviously.”

“And your fighting style. Very impressive insults - I almost felt bad for those goblins. Almost.”

“Well, growing up in the Outer and Lower Cities of Baldur’s Gates does wonders for one’s vocabulary,” she said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion attempting to haggle with the merchant at the entrance of the caves. Poor guy. “I better go see what they’re up to. Meet outside the grove in a few hours?” 

“Absolutely. It was a pleasure meeting you, Rosalind,” he smiled at her and gave a half bow with a funny little flourish and walked away. 

She exhaled deeply, puffing out her cheeks as she watched him leave. Not only was he handsome, compelling, and good with the blade, he was kind, a good teacher, and going to join their party?

Oh, she was in trouble.

Big trouble. 

Worse trouble than the tadpole.

[egginround]

A Nice, Simple Plan

Astarion has a plan to woo Tav. A nice, simple plan that backfires. [or perhaps, he never needed one anyway]

Astarion x Stoic!Tav (she/her) - 3.5k - No CW - Fluff + Astarion learns the power of apology lol - Part of the Elfsong Tavern's 2024 Valentine Exchange for the lovely @leftoverdinosaurbones :)

A wisp of hair curled around her ear. A flex in her fingers as she massaged her knuckles. A near imperceptible twitch in her wrist.

From his tent, Astarion was watching Tav as she sat by the campfire. A book laid open on his crossed legs, the pages smooth as he flicked through them absent-mindedly. The rise and fall of her shoulders, the strings fraying from the bottom of her shirt. Tav was listening in on a story by the famed Blade of Frontiers – one that their tiefling companion couldn’t seem to get enough of. Though the leader of their merry band, she remained quiet, opting to let the warlock do most of the talking.

Barely into his whirlwind of an adventure and peace continued to escape Astarion. Unpleasant wriggling at the back of his skull often kept him distracted at night – but not as much as the fear that dragged down his spine when he thought of Cazador. Astarion quelled his quickened breath. Now was not the time – it was imperative to lure Tav into keeping him by her side. As the unlikely prism-bearer, Tav’s fate was bound to his whether he liked it or not. The fire flickered as she stretched out the day’s toil from her body.

The vampire’s scarlet eyes darted between the members of camp. The wizard was rummaging through his own tent, no doubt finding some cure to his woefully expensive condition, as the Githyanki warrior sharpened her steel nearby. The incessant scraping nearly did Astarion’s head in. Turning back to his target, he caught scrapes of the daring heroism recounted over the fire. Tav’s relaxed demeanour and silence may have made her seem disinterested, but there was a quiet sparkle in her eyes. She must have been engrossed. Maybe self-important tall tales were the key to gaining her trust, he mused.

It was critical that he would be the one to capture her, Astarion reminded himself, and he was willing to do all it took to do so. It would be easy – a mark like any another. He saw the way that Tav lingered around him, the stares she thought he doesn’t notice. Astarion knew it all. He would have her in the palm of his hand and in his bed before long. A strange tightness coiled in him, but he gave it no mind. It didn’t matter – he shook the thoughts away before they had the chance to form. What mattered right now was his revenge and his long-deserved freedom. He refocused his gaze.

The stretch of her shirt across the back of her nape. The glow of the fire on the side of her face, the curve of her cheek, the small quirk in her smile whenever her eyes drifted over to him.

Upon his lap, his book remained unturned.

It had been a draining day. The sun beat down on their backs as they explored the areas west of the Emerald Grove. If there was a single more complaint from Lae’zel about a crèche, Astarion might seriously burst into flames – tadpole included.

To make matters worse, the dusty road they followed was littered with fresh and foul corpses up ahead – and not even of the human variety! The stench of hyena blood hung heavy in the air as the sun seemed intent on intensifying it. Astarion lamented his luck.

“Chk, another distraction in the search for a crèche,” Lae’zel spat out. If she hadn’t mentioned the same thing several times before, Astarion might have been more inclined to listen.

Instead, he lagged back behind the Githyanki, falling into the same pace as their sorcerer leader. If Tav noticed anything, she certainly didn’t say it. Then again, it seemed rare of her to say more than needed. In that respect, she and Lae’zel were strikingly alike.

“It’s a rather sunny day, darling,” he drawled, turning to her. “One spent far better on a sandy beach than on a dry mountain road, no?”

A non-committal hum.

“Ah, well,” Astarion endeavoured, jaw ever so slightly clenched. “Maybe our dear Tav prefers something a bit darker.”

He dragged down his voice to a low whisper for only Tav to hear. “A night under a canopy of stars perhaps? The luxury of a stolen evening away, sharing secrets in the shadows - maybe even a sin or two…”

That seemed to have grabbed her attention. Astarion looked at her through his eyelashes – oh so close to chipping at this near impossible facade when -

“Hold up, soldiers!”

Karlach shouted out, rushing to drag Tav to the forefront of their group. “Something gave these lot a right beating. Something not entirely, hm, natural. Let’s smash it!”

The tiefling’s words begged yet another incoming fight, and Astarion felt the internal sigh building up in him finally give way. A sick cracking of bones rung through the air, and a hells-damned gnoll decided to pop out to ruin his day even more. At least he was able to take out his frustrations in battle.

Crouching to the side, Astarion readied his daggers as he blended into the shadows. Both Lae’zel and Karlach sprung to the front, as they were oft to do, whilst Tav summoned the sorcery that swelled through her blood. The air snapped and crackled, and wisps of her hair warped in the winds that swirled around her. It was strangely captivating. Astarion inched forward to find the perfect opportunity to strike when suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

He smelled the fresh gnoll behind him before he could see it.

Astarion whipped his head around. Its rancid breath hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking out whatever thought he had in his mind. He barely had a second to raise his blades in self-defence when a bolt of lightning shot straight out – hitting the gnoll squarely in the back of its head. The splatter of blood on his cheek was all Astarion could register as the dead body thumped onto the ground, its singed flesh sizzling. He panted as he tried to regain his surroundings. A ringing in his ears. A shaky breath. A small quirk in that damned smile of hers.

Astarion tore through the rest of the pack.

It was pretty much a unanimous decision to camp for the night after their encounter. Though lovers of all things violent and bloody, even these adventurers had to take a break. This particular night found most of them taking time in their own tents. Astarion was no exception.

Nearly a few weeks now, and the snail’s pace of progress with Tav had him nearly tearing his hair out in frustration. It was never often that he had to wait more than a few days to lure someone back for Cazador. And even if it was, he was more likely to find a different victim instead. He took a breath and tried to stop his pacing across the front of his tent. Anymore, and Shadowheart might pick up on his worry – or even worse, share it with Gale.

A frown pulled his eyebrows together. It wasn’t that she didn’t find him attractive … right? Surely not.

An odd feeling burrowed into his mind, uncomfortable and slimy. No, Astarion knew his arsenal of weapons extended past his dexterity with blades and lock picks to his looks, his charm, his way with words. He just had to be patient, that’s all.

He dug around for his sewing kit. It couldn’t hurt to patch up every now and then.

“Looking for something?”

He mentally cursed. Of all the times for Tav to catch him, it just had to be now. Astarion was getting rather fed up with being caught off guard. Regardless, he cleared his throat, ready to entice their favourite sorcerer once more.

“Not now that you’re here, darling.”

She snorted loudly at this. Astarion paused for a moment, taken aback before noticing the wine sloshing around in the goblet she held. Ah, the explanation for her more relaxed demeanour.

Tav took a seat on one of the cushions outside his tent, nursing her glass a little more. The hair she usually had swept up had lost its hold throughout the day. Astarion poured himself a glass from the many stolen bottles of wine they horded before sitting nearby. He settled himself into a more comfortable position, as Tav watched a stray comet streak across the sky. Thoughts in his mind raced as he tried to come up with what to say, but the day’s exhaustion seemed intent to keeping them in disarray.

“Fields,” Tav finally said, out of the blue.

“Um, usually a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you?’ starts a conversation, my dear,” he huffed back. He’s all for a bit of mystery, but Tav often took rather too much liberty. Said cryptic turned to him, eyes peeking over her cup.

“I prefer a grassy field than a beach on a sunny day. Too much sand in the wrong places, harder to remove than blades of grass.” She fiddled with the frays on her blouse.

“Ah,” momentarily stunned, Astarion processed her sudden chattiness before replying. “A sage choice. The quiet of a forest is hard to resist.”

“Mm.”

They fell back into a weird silence.

“What -” Tav cleared her throat. “What do you like?”

She pointedly looked away, her glass now permanently attached to her lip, hiding her face from his discerning eyes. Astarion felt almost tempted to laugh, but the weariness of the day – not to mention the frustrations of their whole predicament – had him feeling strangely raw.

“I like the city,” he opted to reply. “Cesspool of a place, Baldur’s Gate, but it’s one I’ve known my whole life. The way the sun sparkles on the water by the port – it’s a sight that I, um, missed.”

“Hm, I can understand that.”

Tav rocked the dark red wine back and forth in her cup. Above them, stars twinkled through the clouds. A beat passed before Tav stood up abruptly, nearly knocking Astarion back in her haste, as she began to leave. Before she went, she stiffly called out to him.

“We’ll get there. I promise.”

And with that, Tav strode off. His eyes lingered on the covers of her tent flapping shut before he settled into his own. There was a new lightness to his shoulders that soothed itself into his weary bones.

A weird tenseness hung between the two of them after that, one that had him feeling stripped raw. Astarion discovered a strange prickling of his skin whenever he was around her, but a gnawing at his bones when he was not. Distancing himself from her (a tactical retreat, of course), Astarion tried to ponder on these feelings from afar. In battle, he made sure to snipe any long-ranged archers that could interrupt Tav’s spellcasting. During travel, any pickpocket that got close to her was met with a warning glint of a danger and a sudden disappearance of coin. For every step he took away, Tav took one closer. It was now common for her to seek him out at night for a chat about their pasts, or to simply watch the sky above. Whatever felt constantly lodged in his throat seemed to give way during these moments, only to return the morning next. The plan Astarion had felt completely derailed.

It must have been Tav’s weird behaviour throwing him off his balance, he finally concluded. Whenever they spoke, there was always that rocky feeling in him, as if the wind had picked up all his breath in a gust and left him in its wake when she went. Whatever it was, it was time to push it out his mind. He needed to focus on securing Tav’s favour - no matter how foreign the idea now tasted on his tongue.

Astarion abhorred the goblin camp. Inane bickering, mud everywhere, and the stench of worg dung, unwashed goblins and Hells know what else heavy in the air – distaste was rolling off Astarion in waves. The only saving grace this infernal place had was that he had the chance to destroy it all during their rescue mission of the archdruid Halsin.

Halsin. Tall, bulky elf with a deep voice and apparently enough peace and love to fill the whole bloody universe. Said druid now stood by Tav, thanking her profusely for his rescue, whilst Astarion was still wiping goblin guts off his knives. Whilst he did take glee in slashing and carving his way out of the goblin settlement, the exhaustion and lack of blood to feed on was starting to take its toll. If that wasn’t bad enough, the rescue mission ended up useless as they were still no closer to controlling the tadpoles in their minds.

“Really darlings,” his voice dripping with irritation as everyone gathered themselves after the gruelling fight, “next time, let’s not go galivanting through the entirety of Faerûn, saving whichever poor fool so much as bats their eyelashes at us.”

The irony was not lost on Tav.

Astarion dragged himself through the rest of the deserted camp, looking for valuables to plunder before they left. A necklace, a ring or two. Out the corner of his eye, Shadowheart was busy casting healing spells on a particularly nasty gash left on Wyll. Tav herself stood by the warlock as her hand pressed tight to a long wound winding down her arm. Astarion kept an eye out for healing potions as he dug through the rest of the chests.

He was in the middle of examining a silver pendant when he spied Halsin approach Tav. The druid’s hands glowed a soft warm light as he ran them over Tav’s wounded arm, standing surely too close than necessary. A slam rang through the courtyard when Astarion shut a chest a touch too hard.

“Can we get going?” he complained. Frustration was oozing out of him. His usually precise control over his words seemed to have evaporated over the course of battle. A sneer seemed permanently etched onto his face.

The only indicator of a response from Tav was a quick huff. If any words swelled on her tongue, she bit them down before Astarion could hear them. A bitterness was now seeping into him.

“Not longer now,” Wyll sighed out, relief colouring his voice at Shadowheart’s healing.

“Please, we’d be here all day if you all could help it,” Astarion bit back. “Probably saving a squirrel from a tree or some other inane charity.”

Tav gave him a warning glare, stoking the fires that had been simmering in him for far too long.

“The balance of nature requires constant vigilance,” Halsin replied smoothly, still way too near to Tav for any efficient healing he thought. “I hope that you all could come see what we do at the grove.”

Astarion huffed, “Like I’d ever want to see nonsense in such a waste of space.”

“Astarion!”

The look on Tav’s face was thunderous. The air crackled around her, a tell-tale sign of the heat rising in her veins. She stormed over to him, clutching her newly healed arm. Whatever remorse panged in Astarion was smothered by the resentment that broiled in him.

“There’s no way we could’ve let the goblins continue,” she argued. “Stopping them was important.”

“For what? To protect some irrelevant grassy hill so these - these idiots can frolic in the forests and roll in mud till the end of their days?!” Astarion snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, my fate is lying in the balance. All of ours are! And yet you want to play saviour for what? A round of applause?”

His chest heaved, fangs bared in the dim light of the dungeon, sneering. “How droll.”

Pain flashed across Tav’s face. Poison seemed to pour out of every pore in Astarion’s skin as he waited for her reply. Indignation flashed across her eyes, like lightning across a dark grey sky.

“You don’t like it? Fine!” the final tether in Tav snapped as gusts of wind blew around her. “All of us have been trying so, ­so hard. I’ve been at the end of my rope for weeks – doing who knows what just for a semblance of peace in this gigantic mess we’ve landed in. You don’t like that – then fine!”

Tav pointed her finger straight into his chest.

“But don’t you ever – ever – dare accuse me of doing this for damn applause.”

Shoving him aside, she stalked off into the forest. The rest of the companions were stunned, having never seen such an outburst from their stoic friend. Exasperated, Astarion ran back into the Selunite temple, itching to find anyone, anything left to fight.

It was nightfall before Astarion finally left. Nothing was in the temple but dust and abandoned chests, to his chagrin. Irritated, tired, hungry. All these emotions brewed in his stomach – but there was one that stood out the most. Loneliness. He, of all people, felt … alone? The thought made him want to puke. He survived years in Cazador’s torment with no-one but himself. So why did he long for company now?

His previous anger was dying down to an ember. It was slowly being replaced with an absolutely terrible desire to return to camp and see his companions again. To see Gale learning with Lae’zel. To see Shadowheart gossiping with Wyll and Karlach. Try as he might, he was too exhausted to even smother his desire to see Tav. To maybe even apologise.

He groaned.

Kicking the dust up in the path, he made his way back.

As he predicted, the reception upon his return was less than warm.

The campfire crackled, and Gale to his credit was more than happy to see him return. Shadowheart seemed less than impressed at his outburst, but other than that, everyone seemed weirdly alright. There was no yelling at him, no threat to kick him straight out of camp. It seemed a near normal night, or as close to normal as they could get. Wanting to avoid any awkward conversations, Astarion made a beeline to his own tent, determined to spend the rest of the night in silence as he worked through the thoughts that hounded him recently.

He was surprised to see Tav waiting there for him.

She was startled at his return, and there was a small spark of satisfaction in him at catching her off-guard.

“You’re back,” she remarked.

“Yes. I am.” Astarion didn’t have much to reply either.

It seemed the outburst had taken as much a toll on Tav as it did on him. She seemed even more taciturn than usual, as if anything she had to say had been dragged out of her already. Tiredness was creeping onto her face. Astarion spied the unsightly scar running down her arm, and the words spilled out of him before he could stop it.

“I’m,” the words feel silly as they tumbled out, “sorry. I’m sorry.”

“O-oh.” Tav was speechless. Astarion stood up a bit straighter, desperate to shake the awkwardness off. The feeling of vulnerability was if a grip on him had finally been released – pain that gave way to a rush of something unknown.

“Under Cazador, I never really … needed to work with anyone else,” his hands spun randomly as he tried to explain himself. “I had to survive first. I had to be my own priority. I was terrified that anyone I ever got close to would bolt the second they knew who I really was - or worse, be made an example of.”

Tav took in his words, quiet as she always was, but now? It was for him. This space, this time to talk – it was all for him. The mere thought sent a giddy laugh bubbling through his heaving chest. Whether it was from nerves or happiness or just sheer relief – he neither knew nor cared. It sent an equally silly laugh through Tav.

“I could never be with anyone else, much less enjoy my time with them, you know. Things like sharing a glass of wine or waking up in the morning knowing I was safe with someone – it’s – I – I never knew how much it could mean to me. I didn’t realise how much … you could mean to me.”

Tav let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “Astarion …”

She took his hand in hers – blissfully unaware to the pickup in his undead pulse – before smiling at him. “I’m just very glad you’re safe. And back with us. You said some awful things.”

“I know,” he laced their fingers tighter together, squeezing, “I’m sorry.”

It was a testament to their bond that she understood the words he hadn't the strength left to say, seeing past the bluster and fake charm. The fear he felt daily, the mask he wore, the scars of his past.

“I know it’s hard,” she whispered. “It’s hard for all of us, but we’ll get there. I promise.”

Astarion pulled her into the first genuine hug he’d had in years. He felt her hands wrap around him and nearly melted into the floor.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, feeling her heart thud against his. “Thank you.”

thanks for reading! :)