#halsin hurt/comfort

[girlwithadragonheart]

Thinking about Halsin and a depressed reader. Someone who knows they aren't alright, and is frustrated with themselves for not being able to communicate that. Someone who, when asked what's wrong? will answer, nothing, I'm okay, or I don't know because that's the only way they can properly communicate that something is, in fact, wrong.

Someone who starts to feel guilty because they can't ease their companions' minds because that would effectively be lying to them and telling them they're okay when they obviously aren't isn't alright. But they also can't just come out and say what the issue is because there is no issue, they just don't feel good.

Halsin sees the gradual change. The way you stop coming out around the others. The way your sentences get shorter and shorter, and you smile less and less. The few times you do, it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You have moments of joy, of course, but it quickly dissipates, leaving you with that emptiness that won't leave you alone.

Halsin would like to say he knows how to help that because he's lived it, but the truth is he doesn't. He spent a century feeling how you feel and the only way it lifted was to solve the root of the problem---the Shadow Curse. But how do you kill the weed if you can't find its roots?

He doesn't know, and watching you sleep more and more, becoming less inclined to solve anything that's a threat to you, it just kills him inside.

He finds himself approaching your tent one night when you skip dinner. He finds you near-asleep, rolled away from him with an arm supporting your head. Halsin kneels down beside you, resting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hips, gently squeezing you awake.

You roll toward him slowly, and he looks down at your bleary eyes. "I'm worried about you."

You huff, sitting up and throwing the blankets aside. "Everyone is. I don't know what you want me to say."

"Can you at least talk to me about it?" Halsin asks gently.

Gods, but you want to. "I don't know how. I don't know what's wrong with me," your eyes tear up.

Halsin's brow furrows. The last thing he intended was to make you cry, but perhaps letting something out would do you some good. "Come here," he says in a gentle, commanding tone.

Following directions is all you know how to do right now, so you crawl over to him, settling yourself against his chest. He shifts his weight as though you aren't even there until he settles, wrapping his thick arms around you. He's soft. Comforting.

Gradually, your tears start to fall. Everything comes out as though a dam has burst and you can't reel it in if you try. Halsin pets your hair gently, smoothing it down, his other hand wrapped protectively around your waist where you straddle him.

The hand in your hair moves to your back, rubbing and massaging his fingertips into your taught muscles. "It's okay to not be okay," he says quietly. "All you have to tell me is 'I'm not okay' and I'm right here, alright, little dove?"

You nod blearily, sniffling against his shoulder.

"We'll get through this together. One step at a time, even if I have to hold your hand the whole way through."

-----------

This got so much longer than I thought it would oops, I'm having a night.

@halsinsgate Daddy Issues, rise!

[malacandrax]

Caretaker Yenna :').

[larsisfrommars]

Halsin Whump Audio

BG3 Soundboard of Suffering part 1

Gale (part 2)

No HP/Entangled/Immobilized

Effort and Heavy Breathing

Encounter With Orin

Taking Damage/Death Screams/Falling

Shudders, Moans, Groans

Coughing & Gasping

Crying

[rosieofcorona]

A Light To Break All Shadows

Just a fluffy little Halsin x Tav fic to keep the darkness at bay. Also on AO3, if you prefer. Thank you for reading! 💕

“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

Tav is eyeing Halsin suspiciously from the opposite end of Art’s bedside, where he’s been keeping watch over the sick man for days. At least, Halsin thinks it’s been days– perhaps three (or maybe four?) at the most. It is difficult to keep track in the Shadowlands.

At any rate, he cannot answer her immediately, which means his answer is insufficient.

“If you have to think about it,” Tav continues, “It’s been too long.”

She has a point.

He is exhausted, as they all are, but cannot bring himself to rest. They are so close– he is so close– to finding the child that will save them, to ending the hundred-year darkness, to restoring light and balance to the land. 

And Art Cullagh, ill as he is, is the key that will unlock their victory, so Halsin feels as though he must protect him every moment, must stay by his side in case he should wake, or take a turn. 

For days, he has persisted, spurred on by his stamina and willpower. For days, he has waited and watched. Now the idea of sleep falls on him like a spell. 

“It is my duty.” He protests. “I will see this through.” “You will,” she agrees, “When you wake. These people will need you in the days to come. And they will need you to be rested.”

She is playing to his sense of responsibility, he knows, but he is too tired to argue. Reluctantly, he nods his agreement. 

When he rises from his chair, it seems that all his centuries of existence catch up to him at once, his joints and muscles burning. He feels old and sore and weary as he drags himself toward an empty bed.

“Go on,” Tav commands gently. She feels like a mother nudging a child off to sleep. “Even the greatest leaders need rest.”

“Then you ought to rest yourself.”

She laughs at that, though Halsin means it. He knows so few who are so capable, so resilient, so kind. She has already accomplished so many things that he could not, not in hundreds of years of practice.

“You flatter me,” Tav smiles, but Halsin shakes his head. 

“You are extraordinary.” 

His gaze is on her when he says it, on her eyes and mouth and hands, the way her armor cleaves to her, the way her weapon rests against her hip. In another place, another time, another life, he would have had her already, would have known her inside and out if she asked him to. 

And she had asked him to, once, before they came here. He remembers. At the time he had denied her as gently as he could, in the knowledge that what was growing between them, if cultivated, could later prove a distraction, a weakness. 

But gods, he had wanted her then. He wants her still. 

Yet such urges, much like sleep, must be suppressed. At least for now.

Tav stares back at him with wide eyes until she feels a flush come over her cheeks. She turns her face away, just slightly, so that Halsin will not see. 

“Well.” She clears her throat, and redirects. “I’ll rest before we go scouting tomorrow. And I’ll watch Art while you sleep.” 

“As you say.” 

**********

In his dreams, he is back in the Shadowfell, that sunless, cursed place. 

At his feet are bodies, Harper and druid and shade alike. He knows their faces, their names, their stories. Here is Atlan, a boy from his own grove, no more than eighteen years of age. Halsin had cured him once of pox, had later mentored him in the healing arts. 

And here, Jehan the Harper, who had just received word that his wife was expecting. Twins, he’d announced, over a round of drinks at Last Light. 

And Moranna, the Selunite priestess who had blessed them again and again on their journey, had prayed over them and shielded them to the best of her ability. 

All lost to the shadows, corrupted beyond recognition. All dead, cut down by his hand. 

Halsin does his best to avoid stepping on them as he presses onward, each step a battle of its own. The weight of darkness seems to crush him, seems to drain the very life out of his body. 

His god is nowhere here. 

There comes a voice through the black night, distant, disembodied. Halsin, the shadows whisper, and whisper again, closer. Halsin. 

Wildly he turns and swings his glaive, hitting nothing, the panic rising in his throat, and–

“Halsin!” Tav exclaims, blocking a swing of his fist with her forearm. 

She is sitting at the edge of his bed looking concerned, frightened even. His skin is slicked with sweat, his breathing heavy, his body tangled in the bed linens. 

Immediately, a white-hot shame rushes over him, that he should be the one to cause her fear. 

That he should strike at her, even unconsciously, his savior, his ally. His friend, though that is too weak a word for the feeling that grows within him, wraps around his heart like wild ivy. 

“Forgive me,” he pants, “I was–” 

I was lost in the darkness, he means to say, I was frightened and alone, but the words stick in his throat like flies in honey.

Yet Tav seems to know already, a tenderness softening the furrows of her brow. Not pity, he notes. Understanding. 

She has seen equivalent horrors, has seen friends fall and foes flourish and still, and still, keeps fighting toward goodness, toward light. He aches with the thought that she might have such nightmares, that she might know firsthand how he feels now. 

But she soothes him, reaches out to wipe the sweat from his brow, her touch as light and cool as an evening breeze. 

“It’s alright,” she promises. “You don’t have to explain. You are safe here.”

Halsin lets out a breath he’s been holding for too long. It has been many years since he was last comforted, truly comforted. He is so accustomed to doing the comforting that he has almost forgotten what it feels like to be on the receiving end. 

Tenderness is no stranger to him– many of his lovers have been gentle, have been sweet– but none have ever known his burdens, none have carried them, taken them on as their own. Here is one who has, who does, who will, if he will let her. 

He takes Tav’s hand in his and guides it, flattens her palm over the rabbit-fast beat of his heart, breathing deeply, willing it to slow. He wants to say, Thank you, then, I love you, but it’s too soon, he thinks, too desperate, no matter how true. 

“Thank you,” Halsin allows, and swallows the rest. 

Tav smiles at him then, a soft, bright thing, like a single star in the night sky. The true last light in the Shadowlands. 

“Shall I stay with you?”

“Art–,” Halsin starts, but she shakes her head calmly, knowingly. “He’s sleeping soundly. Seems his bad dreams have come to visit you.”

“I do not wish to burden you with something so trivial.”

“You could not burden me,” Tav says quietly. “But I will leave, if you prefer.” 

Her thumb strokes over his chest, her hand still pressed against him. His pulse quickens again at so intimate, so innocent a touch. Halsin wonders if she can feel it.

“I prefer your presence, always. But you need your own rest.” 

“Very well.” 

Her palm slips from him as she rises to her feet, and he thinks for a moment that he’s made a mistake, has waved off her kindness, dismissed her.

Rather, she motions for him to move over and climbs slowly, wordlessly into the bed next to him. He finds himself lifting the sheets for her, inviting her in without hesitation. 

She’s changed, he realizes as she comes close, her armor cast aside for the day. Her nightclothes make her look, make her feel smaller, softer. He wants so badly to slip his hands beneath the fabric, to see how soft she is beneath. 

“Is this alright?” Tav whispers, looking earnestly into his eyes. Her fingertips flit over his cheek, brushing a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Are you alright?”

The bed is small and Halsin is not, and she is pressed against him like a flower between the pages of a book. He can only nod. 

“I will rest here then, with you.”

In the gentlest act he can or will ever remember, she leans forward and kisses his eyes as if bestowing a blessing upon them, a ward against the darkness.

**********

Halsin wakes again in near-total silence, save the gentle inhale-exhale of Tav’s breathing beside him. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, and for the first time in a long time, doesn’t mind. 

Instead, he is aware of how peaceful he feels in this moment, sheltered from the dangers beyond the inn, aware that at one point or another he had let go of his worry and settled deep into dreaming. The earlier tension in his muscles has melted into a tired ache, as if he is returning from a very long walk in the Grove. 

And she is here, wrapped in his arms. A light to break all shadows.

He can’t be sure when it happened. The shift had been imperceptible, like the feeling of falling asleep, or falling in love.

[mogwaei]

I would like to have a cuddle and smoke a flower while Halsin heals my wounds and tells me we'll get through everything together.

[ Halsin 🌻 Zjinn ]

[aethes-bookshelf]

empty eyes, emptier words || astarion/tav/halsin

I've been stuck in BG3 hell since the game first came out. I'm still in there. I don't think I'll be coming out anytime soon, so have this piece of angst. If everything goes well, maybe I'll deliver on some devil fucking (ft. Haarlep & Raphael). But that's a big IF.

For now, take this. I wrote it in class. I was supposed to be paying attention, but I made this instead. Bon appétit.

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, tav straight up fucking dies

Pairing: astarion/tav/halsin

Wordcount: 1.4k

Summary: Orin knew exactly who to take to hit those troublesome True Souls the hardest. Their leader was the obvious choice - a chicken can only run so far if you take its head. Tav would make a beautiful sacrifice for Bhaal.

And if anyone came to try and get them back? All the better. Blood will flow either way. And what a sight it'll be.

[I made some changes to Orin's dagger. Now, whoever gets killed with it can't be resurrected. Or can they?]

ao3 link || part 2

Orin turned around at the first sound of footsteps. She brandished her dagger, her Netherstone embedded in the cold metal of the weapon. She was standing on the sacrificial altar at the center of the temple. Beneath her laid Tav, arms and legs bound. They were unconscious, fresh and old wounds littering their body. The little clothing they wore stuck to their skin, wet with blood. The smell of it hit Astarion like a club to the head. He hated how his mouth instantly watered, hunger rearing its ugly head.

‘I don’t smell Gortash’s rot on you,’ Orin said, crouching by Tav’s body. She dragged her blade across their skin. Fresh blood bubbled to the surface. Tav didn’t even flinch. They were barely breathing.

‘Did it think it could trick me? Did it think it could save?’ Orin taunted, her dagger stopping right over Tav’s heart. Astarion could hear its faint beating.

The heat of Karlach’s anger burned the air around her. ‘I hope you’re not about to do what I think you are. For your sake.’ Her massive ax sliced through the pungent air, tail swishing behind her.

Halsin didn’t speak, but his eyes glowed bright gold. His hands were clenched at his sides, anger barely restrained.

Astarion unsheathed his own daggers, their weight a fleeting comfort. ‘You lay one more finger on them, I’ll rip your throat out,’ he said. A growl ripped itself out of his throat.

‘Your teeth aren’t sharp enough to pierce my throat,’ said Orin. The tip of her dagger sank into Tav’s chest. ‘Not enough to slice my flesh, taste my blood.’ She drew back her hand, dagger rising into the air. A speck of blood followed its tip.

Astarion clenched his jaw so hard his teeth hurt. His upper lip drew back; he bared his fangs on instinct.

‘Even if you kill them, all you’ll achieve is pissing us off,’ said Karlach. Her words were confident, but her voice betrayed her; she was afraid. ‘We’ll just bring them back so they can spit on your fucking corpse after I split you in half, you crazy bitch.’

None of them liked the way Orin laughed at those words. ‘“Bring them back”? Not here. Not with Bhall’s blessing.’ She grinned, showing all of her teeth. ‘They’ll be the first sacrifice of the night. Then I’ll spill your blood and guts on their flayed skin.’ A shiver ran through Orin as she brought her dagger down.

The blade sank into Tav’s chest with a sickening squelch. They gasped, body going rigid for just a second. Then they went limp.

Astarion’s scream rang through the still air as Karlach charged the altar.

* * *

Astarion knelt down by the bodies laying on the stairs and started rifling through their pockets.

‘What the hell are you doing, Fangs?’ asked Karlach. Tears were evaporating off of her face, her infernal engine still hot with her battle rage. The ashes of a used scroll of revivify were cooling at her feet. The spell's energy had already ran out and Tav was still limp, their body slowly going rigid.

‘I’m looting, can’t you tell?’ Astarion’s voice was snappy, but even. ‘Tav’s usually the one to take everything that’s not nailed down but they obviously can’t do it this time, can they?’

He leaned down over a pile of smoking bones and burned blood that used to be a man once. ‘They always find something for us in these piles of trash, I thought it’d be… nice to do the same for them for once.’ He managed to fish out a rusted dagger from underneath the pile.

‘Astarion,’ said Karlach, voice breaking.

‘Besides, their favorite tea ran out a few days ago, so we’re gonna need stuff to sell.’ He leaned over the pile of Orin’s gore next. ‘Tav spent most of our money on some new armor for you and Gale, and that tea’s expensive, you know?’ He took Orin’s dagger. His hands were shaking.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach tried again. The low hiss of evaporating tears got louder.

‘They deserve to drink something good when they come back, no?’ Astarion stood up straight. His grip on Orin’s dagger was so tight his chuckles went paper-white.

‘Astarion,’ Karlach’s voice was low and thick with tears, ‘I don’t think they’re coming ba—’

‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ Astarion was quick to turn around and point the dagger at Karlach’s chest. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence.’ For the first time since they arrived at the temple, his voice broke. ‘Of course they’re coming back. Why do we keep that creepy skeleton around if not to bring us back in times like these?’

His eyes watered. ‘They’re coming back. They have to. They must. Even if that means I’ll have to drag them out of the Hells myself.’

Astarion’s eyes wandered to Tav’s broken corpse. They were still laying on the altar, the stone of it slick with their drying blood. He couldn’t see their face; Halsin’s shoulders were obstructing the view. Astarion could swear the druid was shaking too.

‘Halsin, they’re coming back, right? They’re coming back!’ If Astarion’s heart still beat, it’d be fluttering with rising panic.

Halsin’s voice was low and quiet. He kept stroking Tav’s matted hair as he spoke. ‘I’m not sure they will, my friend.’

Those words punched all air out of Astarion’s lungs. Fury replaced it.

‘Shut up!’ he screamed; his voice echoed in the empty temple. ‘We were supposed to have decades together. Decades! They can’t leave yet. They promised!’ His knees buckled. With every word he spoke, he sank lower and lower, until his knees hit the cold stone beneath him. ‘They promised we’d… We were supposed to find a way for me to be in the sun again,’ his voice faded into silence.

Astarion couldn’t speak anymore. His chest clenched and his eyes burned. He wanted to scream. He wanted to rage and kill, and tear. He wanted to bring Orin back just so he could send her to her blasted god all over again. He wanted to hear Tav laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

His throat was clenched so tight not even sobs could escape it. He was vaguely aware Halsin’s shoulders were openly shaking with his grief, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort the druid. That would mean looking at Tav’s empty eyes. That would make this entire nightmare real. So very, terribly real.

Astarion’s grip on Orin’s dagger loosened; the weapon fell with a loud cling, its Netherstone slipping out of it. The stone shone dimly in the light of the torches.

All of it for these stones. All this death, pain and misery for these three pieces of one whole. Tav died for it.

Meaningless, meaningless, meaningless. All of it. All of it!

Astarion’s mind was reeling; jumping from pain to denial to anger to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Tav would know, he thought, and a fresh wave of tears fell.

Karlach laid a hand on his shoulder. She’d cooled down enough for her touch to be only slightly painful on his corpse-cold skin. ‘We have to go, Fangs. Halsin.’ Her grip on Astarion tightened when he shook his head. ‘We have to go,’ she repeated, harsher this time. Barely restrained emotion shook her voice. ‘If they even can come back, we need to get them back to camp as soon as possible.’

Halsin took a deep breath and wiped his face with the back of his hand. ‘Karlach’s right,’ he said and stood up. Tav was limp as he cradled them close to his chest. To his heart. ‘If we stay here too long, we’ll certainly lose them for good.’ The druid squared his shoulders and turned to face the other two.

Astarion went rigid at the sight of Tav’s hand, limply hanging off the side of their body. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at their face.

‘Astarion,’ Halsin’s voice was soft, ‘I understand your pain. They are in my heart as they are in yours. But we mustn't waste time lest we lose them forever. If there is a chance to save them, we must act now.’

Astarion swallowed down the bile rising in his throat. The chill of death had never been more present in his bones. He nodded, silent, and picked up Orin’s dagger and Netherstone.

‘Let’s go,’ said Karlach, new-found determination on her face. ‘We still have to buy their favorite tea after this, right? How’d you put it, Fangs? “They deserve to drink something good after this”?’

Astarion nodded. He didn’t trust his voice not to break if he spoke. There was an empty, far-away look in his eyes.

As they left the temple of Bhaal, the sweet stench of blood followed them out.

[sorcerous-caress]

Hello!! I love your writing 😍 Would it be okay if you wrote Karlach, Lae'zel and whomever you wish with a tiefling!Tav that loses both a horn and an eye during a battle and can't quite find balance in their fighting afterwards bc of it?

Reacting to Tav losing a horn/eye

[Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, nb!reader, Tiefling!reader]

[Karlach, Laezel, Wyll, Halsin]

Karlach

She swears she can still hear it, your agonised scream, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bone being torn apart.

As if the world slowed down for a moment, an eerie quietness surrounding the battlefield for the uncomfortable stretched out seconds. Your companions turning to look at you, clutching your eye with your back hunched.

Dread filled her stomach, one of your horns laid on the bloody floor next to your feet.

She doesn't remember the rest. Only when she stood atop the burnt rubble of what used to be the battlefield, did the all-consuming rage fade away from her mind.

Karlach is immediately at your side after, apologising for not being there sooner.

She's by your side as you heal, making sure to bring you anything you might need. As your struggles to adjust to combat again in the aftermath become more and more evadint, she is one of the first people to suggest fully leaving combat to her.

Yes, you are capable. Yes, she has seen how strong you are. But sometimes life just doesn't go the way we plan it. You can relay on her instead.

You don't have to go back to the cruel world. You can let her take care of it. Karlach really can't afford losing you. She'd claw her way up the heavens and steal you away if your fate took a turn to the worse.

Laezel

She completely disagrees with Karlach. This is nothing but a minor setback if anything. Laezel completely has faith in you to relearn how to find your balance, and she'll teach you if she has to.

As long as you can still stand on your feet and carry a sword, then you can fight in her eyes. She will give her sincere apologies for letting you down in battle and not doing something before enemeis got the chance to best you, but besides it, you'll get no pity from her.

Why is everyone acting as if you died? You're clearly still the same strong and capable person she knows. If anything, each scar is evidence of how your enemies' failure to put you down, you should show your broken horn with pride.

She has enough self awareness not to impose her views on you, no matter how much she thinks her companions are being dramatic and oversensitive, is she noticed you being fully uncomfortable with her approach she will take her leave from your bedside.

But you got fed up with people infantlising you, then she will be the first to 6pull you back into an intense daily training routine until you regain your footing.

Wyll

While Karlach and Laezel were too busy arguing about your own fate, Wyll was there for you throughout every stage of healing. He knows what it's it like losing an eye. He can relate to the horror and dissociation that happens whenever you look at the mirror to see a piece of yourself missing.

He still hasn't gotten used to his own horns himself, and losing one of yours must have been painful to bear. He will stay by your side until you feel better, no pressure to discuss the future or your fighting abilities or anything.

Wyll will make sure you don't feel alone, that the dark thoughts don't consume you too much. Share you worries with him, let him help carry your burdens, please. It kills him seeing someone so dear to him suffer when he can't do anything or help.

Halsin

His heart breaks, seeing you coming back to camp limbing and bloodied that day. He prays to Silvanus to ease your pain as he takes shift with Shadowheart to nurse you back to health with healing spells.

Nature can be so unforgiving sometimes, to some animals, losing an eye or horn can be a death sentence.

But he has seen even the most withered of plants suddenly flourish and regain their strength, he has personally stayed up countless nights to care for the weak kittens that their mother refused to even acknowledge.

He has seen them grow, nurtured them into a strong healthy state.

Don't surrendered to the darkness, when the abyss starts whispering about how this is your end and how your potential was wasted you yell at the abyss, bite, claw and fight your way out of this rut.

True strength lies in the heart, give yourself time to rest, and don't rush your healing. Eventually, you'll be back on your own two feet with a new view on the world before you can realise it.

[thedomesticanthropologist]

"You hide it from him,"

Halsins voice. Deep, warm. Mira looked up from where she had been gazing sightlessly into the fire before her.

"I'm sorry, Halsin, I was miles away. What was that?" She asked quietly, tone soft yet curious. The large druid stood a respectful distance away, but now gestured with a single hand to indicate if he could sit. Mira nodded.

"Forgive me for saying so, but I feel we are on fair enough terms with each other to ask. When Astarion is not looking, you cease to hide that sad expression of yours. Why not let him see it?"

In a bold but telegraphed move, Halsin slowly raised a large, calloused hand to her cheek. When she did not reject this, he gently thumbed her cheekbone, eyes searching her face for any sign of disquiet at this new contact between them.

"Hm... you're forgiven," the cleric murmured, leaning into the touch. The moment she did so, Halsin breathed in sharply, his movements stuttering. He swallowed audibly, breaking contact between them in the same slow and measured way that he had initiated it. Mira neither chased the touch nor did she question its end, returning her gaze to the fire in the space of the comfortable pause between them.

"He has enough going on." She answered after a few moments.

"We are none of us without our troubles. To unburden oneself with a loved one is to have such pains lifted, even in small measure. Do you think him unable to carry you, as you carry him?" The low rumble of his voice was so soothing. Mira smirked, blowing out a short breath as she shook her head.

"No. It's not that. I think I like it, keeping him believing that I'm..." she waved a hand.

"You are incredible, Mira. A blind man could see it."

"You flatter me."

"You underestimate yourself."

"Touché."

The fire crackled, small pockets of sap popping as they came to a boil from the heat. It smelled delightful, even if the freshness of the wood caused extra smoke to raise towards the sky. Thankfully, there was no wind to blow it to their faces.

"There, that's the look." He rumbled, "That one right there. The one that says you're hurting. I hope I do not overstep in saying that I ache to see it."

"... you're not overstepping. I don't think I have an answer for you, though. I think I just got used to putting on a brave face, honestly." She shrugged, posture tightening as she wrapped her arms around knees now drawn up towards her chest.

"You need not be brave with me." The druid offered, hand presented in the space between them. Palm up, resting on the ground. An offer.

Still gazing at the fire, Mira reached over to give that warm, large hand a single squeeze. Then she let go, returning to herself.

"... I know."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Authors note: reblogs, comments and replies are appreciated!

[leighsartworks216]

Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

Y'ALL I ALREADY HAVE TOO MANY LINKS ON THE FIRST MASTERLIST ASDBHASD

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

BG3 Discord

Request Rules

Tag List Form

Astarion

On Purpose - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

-

To Be Warm And Comfy - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-deprecation, low self worth

-

Je Te Laisserai Des Mots - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

-

A Spawn Could Get Used To This - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: embarrassment

-

No Alarms and No Surprises, Please - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, tense moments, injury, burning flesh, bruises, bones breaking, blood mention, nausea mention, angst, literal hurt/comfort, soft Astarion moments

-

I Can't Get Enough Of You - AO3 - Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: vaginal fingering, swearing, references to past sexual abuse (vague), alcohol mention, blood drinking mention

-

Moon Blood - AO3 - Astarion x gn/fem!Tav/Reader (can be read by any gender period haver I just didn't know what to tag it as)

Warnings: blood, blood drinking, period fic, references to sex, swearing

-

Butterfly's Repose - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: nightmares, crying, references to past abuse, low self-worth, hurt/comfort

-

Darlin' I'd Wait For You - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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Say Something Loving - AO3 - Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

Warnings: manipulation, references to sex, low self-worth, swearing

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Feel Good - AO3 - Astarion x transmasc!Tav/Reader x Gale Dekarios

Warnings: mentions of chest scars, insecurity, mentions/references to dysphoria, crying, implied sexual antics at the end

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My Dearest Prince - AO3 - Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, marriage proposal, secret relationship, brief smut, light hurt/comfort, idk how royalty works

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Just A Trim - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: scissors, brief references to low self-worth, anxiety, pure fluff

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Follow You Down - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: fear of death, blood, mentions of death/dead bodies, religion, anxiety, fear, being trapped, crying, swearing, angst, hurt/little comfort, possibly OOC

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Brown Eyes - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: swearing, slight sexual implications

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Somethin' Stupid (Songfic) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: alcohol, referenced alcohol consumption, mentions of manipulation, slight hurt/comfort

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Pretty, Perfect Skin - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: swearing, biting, blood drinking mention, hair pulling

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Nuptial Bed - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, blood, blood drinking

Fem and Masc versions on AO3

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Not Tonight. Not To You. Never Again. - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader (can be read as platonic)

DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES Warnings: drugging, references to sexual assault, swearing, blood, murder, slight protective Astarion, no actual assault happens, hurt/comfort

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Good Boy - AO3 - Astarion x transmasc!Tav/Reader x Gale Dekarios

SMUT Warnings: oral (w vagina), threesome, top Astarion, bottom Gale, praise kink, hair pulling, slight scent kink, some nipple play, mentions of top surgery scars

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You Are Mine. Never Forget It. - AO3 - Ascended Astarion x gn!Spawn!Tav/Reader

SPICY Warnings: ascended Astarion, dom/sub, obedience/controlling, blood, blood drinking

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The Sleeper VS The Insomniac - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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Your Rogue - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: swearing, Karen, so many italics

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Where Can I Touch You? - AO3 - Astarion x gn!plus-size!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: swearing, body and self-worth issues, some discussion of boundaries, oral (Tav receiving), hair pulling, masturbation

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Migraine Pains - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: migraine descriptions, pain, light angst if you squint, swearing, OOC Shadowheart

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The Burlesque Boutique - AO3 - Astarion x Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: explicit smut, crying, orgasm denial, swearing, one reference to past trauma, pegging

Male/masc/AMAB version

GN/Fem version (strap-on)

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Safety - AO3 - Astarion & nb!OC

Warnings: references to past abuse, nightmares, swearing, panic, blood

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Love Sick - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: references to Astarion's 200 years under Cazador

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A Couple Hours - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: nudity, bathing together, very slight angst

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This Is Nice - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: references to Astarion's time under Cazador

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Live For Me - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST

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Remedies - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: pain, crying

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Morning Adoration - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: sex mention, talk about how you smell (/pos)

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Insolent Little Brat - AO3 - Ascended!Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: blood, choking, biting, spicy, (unhealthy) power dynamics

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Obedient Pet - AO3 - Astarion x male!Tav/Reader

SMUT Warnings: swearing, dacryphilia/crying, dom/sub, collars, gagging, not being able to breathe (for a moment), anal sex, face-fucking, references to punishment

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Tell Me More (Tomorrow) - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: none

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Wyll Ravengard

Horn Care - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and food, possibly OOC

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Cure Wounds - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

SMUT Warnings: swearing, scratching, marking each other (hickeys), bruises, brief mention of battle scars, anal fingering and sex, possibly OOC

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Dragon Slayer - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

Warnings: swearing, crying, hurt/comfort, descriptions of violence

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Dominate Person - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES Warnings: swearing, blood, gore, violence, possession, mentions of vomiting, minor religious reference, grief, character death, broken bones (nose)

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A Decent Man - AO3 - Wyll x AFAB!Tav/Reader

Warnings: period fic, blood, menstruation, anxiety, embarrassment

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Halsin Silverbough

Endings and Beginnings - AO3 - Father-figure!Halsin & gn!OC

DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES Warnings: references to past abuse, depression, self-destructive behaviors, crying, animal death, hurt/comfort

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Haarlep

Little Mouse - AO3 - Haarlep x Tav/Reader + Raphael

DEALS WITH HEAVY THEMES Warnings: implied non-con, rough sex, vaginal or anal sex, blood

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[lanafofana]

(belated) WIP wednesday

I had this thought for a real angst fest of a fic where Gale loved Tav but had to stand by while she romanced Astarion and Halsin. After Tav becomes illithid her lovers leave her and, unwilling to let herself become a threat to anyone, kills herself quietly in solitude. This is a tiny excerpt where the tadfools reunite after finding out what happened.

“Well, you understand, Halsin,” Astarion says, looking for an ally. “You left her too.” 

“That was different.” 

A soft voice rises in challenge. “Was it indeed?” Gale, three sheets to the wind, isn’t looking at any of them. He’s spent the night alternating between staring out the window or into the depths of his whiskey. 

“Of course, I still loved her. Her form didn’t change that.” 

Gale’s bleary gaze finds Halsin’s and the accusation in them is scorching. “Your love,” he scoffs. “Your love didn’t stop you from leaving her alone though did it? How’s that haven you’ve been building out in the wilderness, eh? What a grand idea, I’m sure she was so happy for you too. Wouldn’t have even dreamed of imposing but, then, you didn’t even think to ask her to come with you did you?”

Halsin is the first to look away, something like shame coiling in his chest. It was true. He’d been thinking about how difficult her future was going to be, how grim to face such circumstances alone. Comforting her with assurances that nature would provide a place for her. And then he had left her to her fate all the while carving out a place for those seeking shelter and community. “The people–” he begins to explain but Gale’s eyes are bright and his tone is vicious. 

“You didn’t even try.” 

Astarion rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we could even be sure it was still her in there.”

“I was,” says Gale. "I was sure." There is no disguising the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes as he turns away, back to his corner by the window, gazing out at the night sky. “I did my duty, as she advised, I returned the crown to Mystra, and I came back to help my...my dear friend. I was going to invite her to Waterdeep for a spell, if her lovers could bear the separation so soon after our…victory.” Disgust colors his tone. “But I was too late.” He drains his glass and sniffs. “Always too fucking late.” 

His glass smashes against the wall. Halsin flinches but Astarion is cool, composed. Disaffected. Gale has the insane urge to claw his eyes out. 

[captain039]

PART 5 last part Big bear

Halsin x reader

Warnings: AOB, feelings, tav insert, Angst, abuse, truama, hurt/comfort,

Previous part <-

Leaving hadn’t been an option, even if you wanted to. The suppressors were wearing off just as quick as you took them. Your body felt like it was on fire, you couldn’t keep food or water down. Everyone’s scent was over powering especially a certain Druid’s. You felt like clawing your insides out, the gods truely hated you. You ignored Tav who had approached a few times with food, snacks and water. This would pass and you’d go to the woods, find a place to live out the rest of your days before you died alone and quietly.

Halsin hadn’t stopped pacing since this morning, he hadn't slept, his mind raced and his thoughts were scrambled. You pushed him away and he should respect your boundary’s, but you were in pain and he could ease it. He was too pent up from watching from afar, Tav had come to him a few times trying to offer kind words, but he shrugged them off without thought. He hadn’t meant to be rude and ignoring, but you were shaking on that stupid hay bale, you’d thrown up twice now and you didn’t drink or eat. His second nature was close to forcing you to accept his help, but he knew that wasn’t the way, that would end badly, you’d reject him even more and he’d cast himself out. He didn’t know your past, but it held you in a vice grip and you were drowning in it.

Nighttime finally came, you wanted a nice warm bath and maybe some strong alcohol or potion to knock you out. You felt to dizzy to stand up though.

“Told you, you needed me” you shot up this time, seeing the elder standing by your bed. You felt fear rush through your body as you shook your head.

“No, you’re dead!” You said and she cackled.

“I’m a witch! You’ll never kill me!” She yelled, but nobody else seemed to hear her.

“Hiding here like a coward, you should be spilling blood!” She hissed and you whimpered.

“You’re not real” you whispered shaking your head.

“Oh I am! You’ll never be free of me!” Her smile was evil, her laugh echoing in your ears as you cried out.

She was suddenly gone, your whole body shaking in terror and a worried alpha in front of you, holding your arms gently. You flinched from him, quickly looking around seeing the elder gone.

“Did you see her?” You asked and he frowned glancing around the barn.

“I saw no one, just heard your cry” he said carefully and you felt tears in your eyes, even in death she haunts you.

“She’s not dead” you said and he frowned, but it clicked.

“I killed her, I assure you” he said and you shook your head.

“She wants me back, I’ve had my freedom” you muttered, someone else held your fate once again.

“She’s not here” Halsin said and you growled.

“Why’re you here still!” You yelled.

“I’ve told you to leave me alone! I should’ve spilled your blood when I had the chance” you sneered.

You looked out your eyes, like you were inside your head, but not the one in control as you sneered at Halsin. You yelled and cried banging against invisible walls.

Hearing your cry had never ran so fast in his life, something put horrid fear in you, your stench of anxiety and fear filling his nose instantly. When you mention a she he thought back to the witch, was she tormenting you even in death? Your face seemed to glaze over and someone else’s eyes stared at him as you began yelling and threatened. He felt the sting he did, but he knew it wasn’t you, oak father, he needed to help you somehow. He held your arms gently, closing his eyes and letting his magic flow from him to you. You were still sneering and threatening him, but he ignored you, he didn’t care if you sliced him down, he’d hand you a blade if it made you happy.

You felt magic flow through you and suddenly your mind was your own. You heard a cry in the distance and watched Halsins face squint slightly before he opened his eyes.

“What did you do?” You asked quietly.

“Removed her, she somehow reached you in death, she won’t anymore” he said softly as tears returned to your eyes.

“I’m sorry” you said looking away feeling the ache return to your body. His scent filled your nose and your body shuddered slightly at the warmth it filled you. You breathed him in for a moment, the smell of leather and earth on him, the calmness of an alpha, the care of an alpha. You had closed your eyes as a few tears dropped, you were lost.

Halsin hesitated as he let you go and you didn’t blame him for wanting to leave, you just needed to lie down again. The alpha surprised you though when you were suddenly scooped up gently in large arms. He sat down on the hay bale, his back against the broken wall. You felt your muscles loose feelings like a rag doll. You shuffled a bit legs by his hips as you cried into his chest.

“I don’t know what to do” you sobbed as his one of his hands ran gently up and down your back.

“You overcome, you heal, it’ll take time though”he whispered as you sagged even more sensing his sadness.

“How?” You muttered.

“With help” he said softly.

“Who would want to help me after what I did?” You scoffed lightly.

“Me” he whispered arms going around your waist to hold you closer.

Tag list:

@perseny

@iwannabealocalcryptid

@thatcutewerewolf

@aeryntheofficial

@vinithechocolatevampire

[rosieofcorona]

The Shape of Your Hands

Guess who's back with another soft Halsin x Tav fic. Literal (but very mild) hurt/comfort themes, so TWs for: blood, stitches, minor injury. Also on AO3, if you prefer. Thank you for reading! 💕

“You seem impatient,” Tav observes, as Halsin fiddles with his whittling knife.

In his opposite hand, he holds a piece of wood so sharp it could rival a blade. He had intended it to take the shape of something pleasing, something soft– a songbird, perhaps, or a poppy flower. The shape of her hands. The long fingers, the slender wrist. 

Instead, he has made a weapon. 

He is consumed by thoughts of Thaniel, resting fitfully in his tent, and of Oliver, somewhere out there beyond camp. Of the curse that split them, ripped the very fabric of nature down the middle, and cloaked them all in unending, unyielding night. He slices absently at the wood, over and over, the shavings piling in little coils at his feet. 

“It’s been a century of this,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings. “I am anxious to end it.”

“As we all are.” 

“Then why idle here in camp?” He takes a tone he doesn’t mean to, but cannot seem to help. 

“We are not idling,” Tav bristles. “We are spent. Even your magic– even Gale’s magic– is depleted in this place.” 

It’s the truth, though Halsin is loath to admit it. The Shadowlands weaken even the most powerful among them. Bend them. Break them. He has seen it. 

“We will gather ourselves,” she goes on, “And we will finish this. After a hundred years, what’s one more day?”

“What’s–?” Halsin’s frustration sneaks up on him, crashes over them both like a rogue wave. “You do not understand. One more day is one more day, when one more hour, one more moment is insufferable–” 

His knife cuts in, literally, the sharpened edge slipping past the grain and into his finger, deep enough to make him drop the wood, to suck in a breath through his teeth. 

It distracts him for a moment, forces his anger back onto himself. Or perhaps that’s where the anger’s always been. It is his fault, he knows, that this has gone on so long, that the shadow-curse has been allowed to linger. If he had been wiser, less distracted, less careless–

Careless. He almost laughs at the irony of the moment, the cut on his hand pulsing.

“Here,” says Tav, softening. “Let me help.”

She comes to kneel before him, takes his blade and sets it gingerly beside her on the ground. It glints in the firelight in a way that makes it look like it’s winking, taunting him as a little rivulet of blood flows down his palm. 

“It’s nothing,” Halsin insists, though the grimace on his face gives him away. “I can heal it.” 

“You ought to save your energy. It’s not as bad as it looks.” 

She is holding his big hand in both of hers, turning it carefully this way and that, examining the damage. 

“I can stitch it, if you like,” she offers, flicking her eyes up to his. “Astarion’s been teaching me.”

“To stitch wounds?”

“Well, to embroider.” She gives a sheepish little grin. “But he says I’m very precise. And he’s not the type to lie to spare my feelings.” 

Halsin nods his consent. 

Tav stands and walks toward her tent, and Halsin presses his other hand into the cut to stem the bleeding. It would be easier to cast something simple, he thinks, but she’s right– to use his magic on so small a thing, with all that was still to come, would be a waste. 

Through the firelight he sees her silhouette returning, supplies in hand. 

“Come closer,” she says, settling cross-legged before the fire. “Put your hand here.” 

She shows him, places her own hand on the edge of her knee. 

“I’ll get blood on you,” he cautions, but she only laughs at that. 

“You would not be the first.” 

Halsin does what she asks of him, sits across from her and rests his hand, palm side-up, on her leg. She bends close to examine it again, to wipe away the blood with a soft white cloth. 

“I owe you an apology,” Tav says softly. “I forget, sometimes, how long you have been fighting, when I have only just picked up a sword.”

He feels the prick of the needle, the pull of the thread. The whisper of breath on his skin. 

It is equal parts reward and punishment to have her this close, this way. To have her tend to him, to touch him and not be able to touch her back. Not in all the ways he wants to. 

This is the part he doesn’t tell her, the part she doesn’t understand. It’s not the shadow-curse alone that feels so urgent. Each day in darkness is a day he cannot make his feelings known– a different kind of torment, but not lesser.

They sit in silence until she finishes. A final knot, a cut of the thread, and she sits back on her heels to inspect her work. Six tidy little sutures in a tidy little row. 

Astarion was right. 

This is the kind of thing he taught his students in the Grove, before the war, before the curse, when he was not yet named Archdruid. When things were simpler.

When he thanks her she relaxes, swipes at her brow with the back of her hand. She leaves the barest streak of blood trailed like a comet across her temple, and Halsin, without thinking, reaches forward to wipe it away. 

If she’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. Tav seems to turn into his touch, to feel as much of him as possible, to rest the softness of her cheek against his fingers. 

He wants to kiss her in this moment, just like this. 

It would be easy to lean forward and press his lips to hers– only gently, at least at first, harder if she reciprocated. He can imagine her soft hair woven between his fingers, later wrapped around his fist as his mouth moved down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. 

He can almost feel her weight on him, can almost hear the little sounds that he could draw from her if she would let him try. If he would let himself. 

“Does this mean you forgive me?” Tav smiles. 

She sweeps the thought from his mind like a hand passing through smoke. It’s for the best, Halsin thinks. They cannot afford distractions now. 

Still, it doesn’t stop him placing a kiss against her forehead, or stroking her cheek with his thumb one final time. 

He reassures her. “There is nothing to forgive.”

He resolves that when they leave here– if they leave here– he will tell her all the things he feels out loud.

One more day.

[larsisfrommars]

The Light Won’t Die

Halsin x Tav

Rating: E for Everyone

Chapter: 1/??? (Next Chapter ->)

Word Count: 732

Genre: Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Content: Halsin x Male!Tav, Fighter!Tav, The Blood of Lathander the goodest weapon, Act 2, The Shadow Curse, Halsin has unresolved PTSD and not enough people talk about it, Tadpole anxiety.

“Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.”

———————✨🌿✨———————

The events at Crèche Y’llek had been harrowing to say the least. The return to camp was arduous, spells depleted, muscles aching. But the rewards had been undeniable.

Tav twirled his new mace in his hands “The Blood of Lathander” the beastie was called. Tav was not a holy man, but he’d be a fool to reject the aid of the divine. Especially one so tied to the daylight as Lathander when they approached a place so dangerously opposed to it.

It glowed with the warmth of day even as the sun sank behind the mountains for one last evening. With its sinking Tav’s stomach followed suit, he was not afraid of the dark. Did not fret even that the shadow curse would get the better of his ever mightier band of misfits.

But he would miss the sun.

Tav’s heart twinged knowing he was not the only one who’d be denied this simple pleasure. Who’d been denied it before for far longer than he would have to endure, he realized a bit shamefully. Yet he found they were not the ones he felt the most concern over.

Tav felt a large hand on his shoulder, to whom it belonged was unmistakable. As though his thoughts had summoned the Archdruid to his side. He looked up at the elf before they both turned their gaze to Tav’s prize once more.

“A fine weapon, you were wise to seek it out before approaching this place. The land now crawls with undead, all that’s left of those who could not escape.”

Halsin’s gaze turned toward the gnarled path ahead of them warily. The edges of the curse already made themselves known in a trail of dead animals and gnarled, diseased looking tree trunks. That alone Tav was sure would be enough to burden any Druid’s heart. Though based on what Halsin had told them so far, Tav had a gnawing sense there was more to it than that.

“How did you? Escape I mean.”

Halsin’s breath caught and grip on Tav’s shoulder squeezed somewhat before departing from it. He’d surprised him. Wherever Halsin’s mind had gone, it was no where pleasant.

“Apologies, I was… lost in thought. Perhaps that is a story for another time. Better to prepare for the spring than to dwell upon the strain of the winter.” He cracked smile that neither of them believed as he tried to move on to other matters.

“Anything more you could tell us would be helpful, if it comes down to it…“ the looming possibility of failing hung unspoken in Tav’s words.

“If things turn for the worse, then I shall tell you. I have spent a great deal of my long life seeking a way to end this curse. I don’t think it behooves us to speak of failure before we’ve even begun.” Halsin replied in earnest.

The normally affable Druid had a slight edge of desperation to his voice that bid Tav turn away from this line questioning. So he bit his tongue for the time being.

“Of course, sorry. I almost forgot that not all of us are heading to this place due to unwelcome guests. I’m sure lifting this curse means a lot to you.” Tav responded, sympathy seeping into his final words.

“Yes, it does.”

With that, Halsin walked away. Leaving Tav with a further steeled resolve, and a leaden ball of apprehension in his heart.

Though the camp chattered in its usual manner, nervousness, curiosity, and from their Cleric an unusual level of excitement. Tav felt disconnected from them all, save for the large elf across from him.

Though no words were exchanged, a mutual understanding of the gravity of what they must do hung between them. Halsin it would seem taking the majority of the weight, given his stony expression. The usual warmth in his eyes dampened, but not altogether smothered, to Tav’s comfort.

It was peculiar, considering that if they chose to, the party could read one another’s thoughts, save for Halsin. Perhaps it was the notion of forbidden fruit. Tav was haunted by the gnawing desire to pry into the Druid’s thoughts. He wasn’t sure whether that desire belonged to him, or to the mindflayer tadpole burrowing in his skull.

That worried him more than anything than he had heard shadow curse may throw at them. He resolved to respect the Druid’s privacy. No matter how much he wished to know what motivations lie behind his abdication and plunging into danger. No matter how concerned he felt for the Druid’s wellbeing. Even though it would be oh so very easy to enter his mind.

No, Halsin would come to Tav freely, or not at all.

[aethes-bookshelf]

we promised we'd save you || astarion/tav/halsin

This chapter took me way longer than I expected it to. I had to finish my biggest commission to date a few weeks after posting part one. It seems it took a lot out of me ^^"

But! I promised comfort, I deliver comfort. I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Astarion/Tav/Halsin

Warnings: implied/referenced past character death, hurt/comfort (mostly comfort)

Wordcount: 1.3k

Summary: The first thing Tav felt was pain.

ao3 link || part 1

When they came back, Halsin carrying Tav’s dead body, stunned silence washed over the camp. The entire time the party knew Tav, they seemed indestructible. Larger than life, powerful and confident. But now, with their limbs limply swaying with Halsin’s movements, they looked like a little doll; fragile and lifeless..

Their skin was much, much paler than usual, dirty with dried blood and grime. They weren’t wearing their armor; it might have been lost or destroyed at the bhaalist temple. Without their shoulder guards they seemed so much smaller, dwarfed by Halsin’s broad shoulders.

‘What happened?’ said Wyll, eyes wide.

‘Orin happened,’ said Karlach. She had a look of grim determination on her face. ‘Where’s the skeleton?’

* * *

The first thing Tav felt was pain. Every single muscle in their body ached with that deep, crushing kind of pain that made even the slightest movement hell. Their head wasn’t doing any better. Their pulse pounded in their skull, each beat of their heart bringing an uncomfortable sensation in their temples. They were parched, their throat so dry and tight they were sure it would start bleeding at any moment.

They were hurting all over. But if they were hurting, that meant they were alive.

That realization slammed them right back into themself. The last thing Tav remembered before everything went black was being thrown onto the sacrificial altar in the middle of the bhaalist temple.

Tav opened their eyes. Above them was the fabric of their tent — they were back at camp. They were back at camp! Relief flooded their system. Their friends must have come for them before it was too late.

Granted, they couldn’t really move much because of the pain, but it probably wasn’t anything a bit of healing magic couldn’t fix. And a little pain was to be expected after whatever the hell Orin did to them. They would manage with a few more healing potions and Shadowheart’s help.

Tav groaned at the ache as they tried to adjust their legs under the covers. A puff of white hair suddenly came into their vision. It disappeared almost immediately when someone crashed into their chest with a relieved sob. Tav made a short, pained sound.

‘Shit,’ Astarion hissed and reluctantly moved away. He settled for holding Tav’s hand instead. ‘You made me forget myself there, my sweet.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you must’ve been so worried,’ Tav said, their voice teasing and hoarse. They squeezed Astarion’s hand just a little bit tighter; he squeezed back. ‘Still, there’s no need to break my ribs over it, is there?’

Astarion was strangely silent for a beat too long. Tav tried to rise to get a better look at his face but decided against it after the pain pushed them back into their bedroll. ‘What, no witty banter? Are you okay, love?’

That made Astarion snort, unamused. ‘It’d be quite hard for me to be okay after you went and quite literally died on me.’

It was Tav’s turn to go silent. ‘...What do you mean “died”?’ They said after a few moments.

‘I mean “died”.’ He sounded annoyed. Still, his voice shook all the same. ‘You… you died. Orin killed you.’

‘Oh.’ Tav cleared their throat. They refused to let the true weight of that statement reach them. ‘Well, then I’m glad you brought me back. Though we’ll probably have to restock on scrolls of revivify. We’d been running low for a while now, anyway.’

‘See, that’s the thing,’ Astarion had to grab onto the fabric of his pants to stop his hand from shaking, ‘we couldn’t bring you back. We tried the scrolls, they…’ He swallowed, grief thick in his throat. ‘They wouldn’t work. We had to rush you to that blasted skeleton. For a moment I thought I’d…’

…lost you.

Astarion couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He felt as if he was on the brink of a cliff, staring down a bleak, lonely future. He’d rather not think about what his life would be like if Tav had not come back to him.

Tav wished to sit up and cradle Astarion to their chest. But they couldn’t; and they cursed all the gods, devils and hells for it.

‘Lovely, look at me,’ they said instead.

Astarion did as they asked. He was trying very hard not to cry again; he wasn’t sure if he had any tears left to spare.

‘I’m here now, okay? I’m still here.’ They tried to give Astarion a reassuring smile, but it came out as a weak grimace. He smiled back anyway.

‘I know, love. And am I not grateful for it,’ Astarion said, quietly. He wiped his eyes with the back of his free hand. ‘Give me a moment, I have to tell Halsin you’re okay.’

‘Is he alright?’

‘He’ll be now.’

The tent fell into silence when Astarion left it. Tav’s world shrank down to the pull of their muscles and the pounding in their head.

They died. Almost for good this time. The reality of that crashed down on them so suddenly they felt like they couldn’t breathe.

But they were still here. Was Orin dead then? Did the rescue party get her Netherstone? What of Gortash? Had any progress been made while they were out of it? Just how long had they been out of it?

Their racing thoughts stopped when the flaps of their tent parted and both of their lovers came in. Halsin rushed to their side, worry clear on his face.

‘My heart!’ He was by their side in an instant. He grabbed their hand, just as Astarion had before, and planted a kiss on it. He held it to his face like a drowning man would hold a piece of driftwood.

‘Hi,’ Tav smiled. ‘Glad to be back in the land of the living.’ They could taste the copper tang of blood in the back of their mouth.

Astarion settled next to Halsin and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s okay, you big oaf,’ he said, doing his best to sound exasperated, ‘they’re okay.’

‘You say it as if you, too, haven’t been beside yourself with worry.’

Astarion scoffed. ‘Yes, yes, the pot calling the kettle black and all that.’ Despite his tone, Astarion’s eyes, locked on Halsin, remained soft.

Halsin rested his and Tav’s intertwined hands in his lap. ‘How are you feeling, my heart?’

‘Like I just died,’ Tav said, in a matter-of-fact tone. ‘Everything hurts, I can’t really move.’

Halsin’s brow creased with worry. ‘Let me.’ He lifted his free hand and passed it over Tav’s body. The soothing coolness of healing magic did away with some of their pain.

Relief must have been clear on Tav’s face; Astarion perked up almost instantly. ‘I take it you’re feeling better already, aren’t you?’

‘I suppose I do,’ Tav adjusted their legs under the covers, this time without most of the pain. ‘I wager I’ll be up and about soon enough.’

‘You should rest for a few more days at least,’ Halsin’s voice was firm. Tav suspected there would be no changing his mind.

‘I know, I know.’ They sighed, bored already. ‘And thank you for the healing spell, honey.’

Halsin smiled. ‘The pleasure is mine, my heart.’

‘How long was I out?’

‘Almost a week,’ said Astarion. His head was resting on Halsin’s shoulder. The druid laid his free hand on the vampire’s lap. ‘None of the others knew what to do without you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t, either.’

‘None of us did.’ Halsin sighed. ‘Until now,’ he said and gave Tav a look so full of pure, unfiltered adoration they had to look away for a moment.

‘Until now,’ whispered Astarion.

‘Rest, my love.’ Halsin’s voice was warm and soft. ‘We’ll be here, watching over you.’

Tav nodded and closed their eyes. Sleep came for them quickly.

Their head was no longer pounding.

[tavyliasin]

Call this one an experiment in a little something different, darlings~

We all have hard days, and some harder than most. So, perhaps a few words of comfort from some of our most beloved characters.

I may expand on these later to be fuller pieces of comfort, but only if that's something people feel they'd wish to see. So do let me know if it should go on my list, for more with these characters and additions of other favourites too~ I can probably so a short piece from anyone, given a little time to get under their skin and find their motivation/voice.

There's going to be some mild tw/cw for mental health, mention of scars, and subtle implications of pain/hurt/etc.

Astarion: "Darling, look into my eyes. That's right, keep your focus right here. Listen to my voice, breathe slowly. No more tears alone, love, you are a light in my endless night and I shall not let your flame burn low. You and I, we are more than the scars we never should have earned, and we are certainly far stronger than any blade or bow that has ever tried to take us down. You still do not believe it? You are here, living and breathing, despite all of your worst days.  Now, one day at a time, darling, one foot in front of the other. No stumble can erase how far you have come." 

---

Halsin: "I am here, my heart, what do you need? No shadow curse or vile beast can reach you from within my arms, no force of nature can tear you from them either. Take all the time you need, my love, I will not leave. Your tears are your strength, not your shame. Let me teach you of all I see within you, your boundless potential proving the acorn can become the oak. I see how you shelter others with your leaves, so let us - let me - hold you through the storm. Your boughs may bend but they will not break." 

---

Abdirak: "You endure your pain so well Dear One, but you must stop believing you deserve it. Pain is a gift, it can be loving, and deliver that love to Loviatar. But it must never break, it must not be delivered without purpose. Do not be so foolish as to believe your own hand is purpose enough. Let me show you the right pains, Dear One, the pain that can heal you. No others shall be permitted to taint the art that is you with sullied brushes." 

---

Raphael: "Little Mouse, you have set quite the trap for yourself, haven't you? Need I remind you exactly who you made a deal with? No. I shall not permit our agreement to be tainted, not by any insignificant insect that would dare to sting my prey. Do not look so forlorn, Little Mouse, your nickname is not an insult. You might be in the presence of a cat, and you would do well to remember that little fact, but a mouse can be swift, cunning, and survive against impossible odds. That is why I trust you, and no other, to bring me what I want most. It is why I offer you a deal that is almost entirely in your favour - no other could expect such generosity, Little Mouse, so keep that in mind. You are my favourite client, and I shall let none break you. Not even yourself."

---

Haarlep: "Ah my Little Thief, you wish to steal yourself away? No, I shall not have that. How bold you were to look me in the eye and to broker your own deal! I could have killed you the moment you stepped into my abode uninvited, but that, Little Thief, would have been such a terrible waste. You noticed, did you not? When I saw you, when I truly saw you, that I did not see just a body stood brazenly staring me down without a scrap of cloth to cover you. I saw potential, so very much delicious potential. Come now, lie back, tell your dear Haarlep what troubles you, and I shall erase every last one from your mind."

---

A bonus, from Tavylia Sin, to one and all.

Tavylia: "Hello, darling. I see you, I really do. I can see how tightly you hold on, how easily the little hope you cling to can slip through your fingers. I know you may never read this, I know you may never hear it, but perhaps someone else like you will read this instead and that will be enough. You are too unkind to yourself, even as you show endless understanding and patience to those around you. They love you, darling, they cherish you even when you don't hear it. I know you need to hear it , though, and I don't begrudge you the comfort of soft words. Just...remember them, love. Remember every moment you were heard, every time you were adored just the way you are, and know those feelings are still there. A heart of love is not emptied by a single moment of you not believing in yourself, your worth is not measured by what you provide. Your worth is within yourself. I see it, others do too. Take comfort, darling, you are never ever alone. I am with you, near or far, and my love for you will not fade. If you cannot believe in yourself for now, trust that we believe in you. Rest, love, the dawn brings a new day and you are always a pleasant part of mine."

[abigailmoment]

"Do you want to become art?"

Astarion answered the question correctly. He knelt and clasped his hands and listened to the sounds of the black lacquered box. He held himself as still as a statue. As quiet as a painting. At least for the first circle.

"Astarion?"

He always thought that the second, smaller circle would take less time, and he was always wrong. He tried so hard to keep all the writhing in his hands. A twitching statue. He tried so hard to keep the crying clenched behind his teeth. A painting that sobbed once. Twice.

"Astarion. Wake up."

Someone was touching his shoulder, which meant he was about to be dragged up and braced against the desk. And no, please no, please not yet. He was supposed to have a circle and a half more of bearable pain before that. Before the pretty nested bowls of Amn-make were filled with salt and horror. Before fleeting wounds became permanent scars. Before he became art that didn't talk but did scream and scream and scream.

"You're not there. Ancunin. Sunshine. Astarion. Wake up."

-

This can be read as a standalone, but is best enjoyed as the third part of a story that starts with Kindness Is Quiet And Bright.

Full text below.

Full Text On AO3

The hands were wrong. They weren't moving him or cutting him. The voice was wrong. Much, much to soft. And he was lying down, not kneeling. And the room was too dark and small, and there was someone else, looming up on his other side and speaking.

"What's wrong?" this voice was deeper. And there were more hands, and hands could do terrible things.

"Don't TOUCH me," he hissed.

Immediately no one was touching him. Immediately there was more space. He had space to think. Collect his scattered, jagged thoughts. Space was good and when something was good he wanted more. He scrambled back until his back hit the headboard of a bed. He was in a bed. A bed in a room in the upstairs of the Elfsong Tavern.

Context reassembled itself as memories faded. Bed in the corner furthest from the entrance. Bed with Tav, who was sitting a few feet of mattress away from him, looking at him with a wary, unhappy expression that he used to think was pity. Bed next to Halsin, who was crouched up from the floor. Because he slept on a bedroll on the floor next to the actual bed. Not for depraved reasons, no that would be too normal, but because apparently druids were allergic to comfort. And probably also there was something insipidly romantic about wanting to be protective and close to them, but Halsin hadn't mentioned that reason out loud because he knew what Astarion would think of it.

The rest of the room was a gray haze of shadow. Gale was the next closest companion--still audibly asleep behind a wooden privacy partition. The center room was empty and still. The far door was closed. Nothing was moving. Nothing was there, at least that he could see.

Awareness of himself came after Astarion understood his surroundings. He was shaking. Mostly his hands because some stopgap reflex meant that even now he was trying to hold his body as still as possible. He was breathing in hitched, thready gasps. He should stop. Breathing was a graceless habit in a vampire.

No. He hated that thought. It wasn't his thought. But it was planted in his mind deeper than the tadpole. And thinking like that made it feel like Cazador was close. Gods, he was close. They were in the city. And it was dark, and terrible things happened in the dark.

The night felt like it was yawning around him, filled with all of those horrible possibilities.

"No. Wait," he whispered, changing his mind. "Touch me."

They moved carefully and slowly, which made Astarion feel both grateful and like he wanted to scream at them. Tav slid closer and reached out. Astarion gave her his hand and she started tracing her thumb up and down his palm. And that was fine. That was fine.

Halsin shifted until he crouched by the head of the bed, which put him about on level with Astarion because the man was a giant. He ran knuckles gently back and forth over Astarion's forearm, and then up to his shoulder and down again. This was probably what he did to calm down horses, but whatever. It was fine. It meant Astarion wasn't alone in the dark.

Tav leaned closer, like she was about to whisper some sweet nothing into his ear.

"He's going to die," Tav told him. And that was sweet indeed, and she said it with a delicious sort of certainty. Like she was telling a story that had already happened.

"We are going to kill him," she continued. "We are going to chop his fucking head off. We're going to cut off all his limbs. Twice. Normal murder and then special coffin murder. We're going to kill him. You can kill him yourself, or someone else can kill him for you. We'll see how you feel in the moment."

Astarion nodded. He liked that. When choices were laid out like that. Though, of course, he'd want to kill Cazador. Of course he would. It was going to be wonderful.

Halsin had this thing he did where any contact with the man tended to meander towards an embrace. It was like slight of hand, only with his whole body and you were the coin. But he was being unsubtle about it right now, because both he and Tav were both being so damnably careful. And instead of just starting the legerdemain he paused his hand on Astarion's upper arm, squeezed and pulled ever so slightly. An invitation of a movement.

And there was a sting of dread that Astarion felt all along his spine, because having the space under his shoulder squeezed was something like having his shoulder grabbed, and being pulled into an embrace was something like being dragged on to a table. Maybe it would have been fine if Halsin had begun without that touch of warning, sometimes it was easier not to have a choice, but then again maybe it wouldn't have. Astarion knew he could say something. With a word he could have them both scattering and distant. Treating him like spun glass again. But he didn't want that. All the things he wanted and didn't want were tangled. Pain and longing matted together.

And if he talked about it, then this would become a conversation, and he could barely manage thinking in complete sentences right now, nevermind giving them to other people. And if he talked about it every time something upset him, he would literally do nothing else ever except for that. And Halsin was already moving on, going back to long strokes along Astarion's arm. Which was fine. Apparently vampire spawn were enough like horses that he liked that quite a bit, actually.

Tav had stopped talking and Astarion missed it. It felt a little like she'd stopped a story only halfway done, interrupted by something. But she still had his hand, so she was still there, and that was enough. And the idea of being held was transforming in Astarion's mind from something fraught into something that it was completely intolerable that he couldn't have immediately. So the next time the very slight pull came from Halsin's side, near his elbow this time, Astarion let himself be drawn down from the soft bed onto a still-relatively-soft druid.

Tav followed him down, retaining possession of Astarion's hand as Halsin cradled the rest of his body. Astarion's hands were still shaking, but less now. This was fine. This was nice. Being held, but not pressed. People who smelled alive and hands that felt warm and weren't holding anything sharp.

"You know who else we're going to kill?" Tav said, starting up again where she'd left off.

"Godey," Astarion said. He hadn't meant to hiss again, but that's how the name came out.

"Yeah." Tav nodded. "We are going to murder the fuck out of Godey. We're going to break every bone in his body. Crush his skull like a cheap vase. And then we're going to take the pieces and feed them to Scratch."

"No," objected Astarion. Scratch deserved nicer bones than that. Tav understood and amended immediately.

"Feed them to angry dire wolves," she offered. "Throw them in the ocean."

"That one," Astarion chose.

Tav went on rubbing lines up and down his palm and saying good things.

"Gale and Shadowheart know Daylight, and I'm carrying scrolls," she told him. "We have six flasks of holy water. Halsin has the druid bright and glowy spell. What is it?"

"Moonbeam," Halsin supplied, a gentle rumbling word from above Astarion's head.

"Moonbeam," Tav repeated. "Which does not make as much satisfying thematic sense as Daylight, but we don't care because it's going to burn. You've told us everything we need to know. We have fire and lightening for minions. We have counterspells to lock down magic bullshit."

"He." Astarion started, because he genuinely did not remember if he'd mentioned this. "Has people. Creatures. For abductions."

"We have normal alarms and magic alarms," Tav told him. "Also Wyll is awake downstairs and he will Blade of the Frontiers all over anyone who tries to skulk in."

All right. Astarion probably had mentioned it then. He found that he didn't even mind the knowledge that Wyll was being heroic about something. It landed different, when Wyll was being heroic about him.

Halsin shifted, reaching forward to fold Tav in to his embrace. She was also susceptible, given history one might even say particularly vulnerable, to Halsin's gravitational tendency to turn any contact into a hug. They all ended up a tangle of closeness. It should have been untenable, the man's arms were only so big, but Tav was very cooperative as Halsin slotted arms and folded over legs and made the situation somehow comfortable. His competencies were sometimes baffling.

Astarion could tell that Halsin was about to talk before it happened. Breathing people telegraphed it so loudly, and it was even more obvious while leaning against his chest.

"You are not going to be alone until he is destroyed," Halsin said.

Astarion had a general policy of discouraging such insipid declarations. But he didn't feel like doing that right now. Maybe he did respond. Possibly he'd just made some sort of noise. Whatever.

Astarion's hands had stopped shaking entirely. Adrenaline was dispersing into a weary awareness that it was the middle of the night, and nowadays that was when he slept.

Halsin started shifting again and he and Tav contrived to move the entire assembly horizontal. Astarion did not participate overmuch. He ended up bracketed between bard and druid. And that was fine. Good even. Though there was one thing that bothered him.

"Why are we on a bedroll?" Astarion groused. "There are beds. We paid two hundred gold to have beds."

"He's complaining," rumbled Halsin. "He must feel better."

"Hooray," said Tav, and her face was nuzzled so close under Astarion's chin that he could actually feel her smile. "Halsin engineered it. I'm a witness. We should blame him."

"I do," Astarion told her. "For many things."

Halsin responded by squeezing them. And there were thousands of terrible memories in Astarion's head of bodies being pressed together, but somehow none of them seemed reminiscent of this. It was entirely unlike anything that used to happen in the dark.

And that was fine. And that was good. Perhaps even wonderful.

***

This is the start of a series. The rest of the story is on AO3.

***