#halsin hurt/comfort | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cuttleimagines · 5 months ago

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𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚏𝚏 𝚊 𝙳𝚞𝚌𝚔'𝚜 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 || Halsin

Summary: 𝚃𝚊𝚟 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚞r𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Characters: Halsin, Shadowheart, Astarion, Tav

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, contains sexual content, swearing, mentions of alcohol and body gore, porn with plot, smut with fluff, unprotected water sex, tav has lady parts but no mention of feminine or masculine pronouns, no use of y/n bc yucky, voice kink if you squint, elven Halsin/no wild shape during it

word count: 6.54k 🐻

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"Be honest... What do you think of the new look?"

Your eyes widened at the display. Shadowheart stood before you, her hair platinum white. You noticed how her braid cascaded down her back with an elegance that reminded you of the woman you've grown to befriend. You smiled. This was who she was.

"I love it. It's gorgeous." Your voice came out gentle but sincere, loving the way it complimented the faint color of her cheeks and eyes. She gave a shy smile in return, averting her gaze. “Listen, I need to ask you about something, whenever you have the time. I know you've had an... eventful evening. But it's important to me. You're also the only person I can really ask this kind of thing to."

Your eyebrows furrowed. You know from experience that one wrong word can send Shadowheart the wrong message, the wrong idea. You take a long pause as you debate on what direction to take this, but much to your surprise, Shadowheart doesn't seem off-put by your hesitation, rather, she welcomes it.

You gesture to the fireside where the bedrolls lay, a determined twinkle in your eye. She follows.

The night air chilled the skin on your arms, crickets singing in the grass. It was as though you and Shadowheart were isolated in this moment, the moonlight shining down on her pale features. Although the night was cold, the warmth from the flame took away your goosebumps. You threw a nearby branch into the flame, watching it engulf and build the fire to increase Shadowheart's warmth.

"Thank you." She sighed, her muscles relaxing under the heat of the fire. "I'd... like to know what the next steps are. In regards to when we reach Baldur's Gate.” “Your parents, for one. Cazador, for two, saving the Duke, fucking up Gortash, taking down the Absolute, and getting rid of our tadpoles.” You spoke, almost without wasting a breath; as if you were reading off a list.

“Exactly my point.” Shadowheart shifted, her back straightened as she sat up. “All of those are hopes. I applaud your optimism but we don’t have a plan; a fully, laid out plan that we would follow and that scares me.”

That made you grin, a little amused at her worries. “When have we ever had a plan? We went from looking for a healer to going against an Elder Brain. All we knew was we didn’t want these in our heads.” Your tadpole squirmed in your head, in recognition of Shadowheart’s, making her grimace.

“I don’t need to be reminded.” She shivered, letting her chin fall onto her hand with an exasperated sigh. “It just felt like we had one when we trekked the Shadow-cursed lands, or when we went to the Tiefling grove. We knew where to go next, and who to talk to. I felt safe and like I was headed in a guaranteed path with Lady Shar, but now…” She trailed off, averting her gaze once more.

Your eyes softened. You couldn’t imagine what Shadowheart was going through, and that was the worst part of this conversation. Shadowheart lost everything she thought she knew. The most important part of herself was ripped from her. Of course she’d feel lost, blinded to what was in store for her.

Your tongue felt tied. For once in your role as the camp leader, you didn’t know what to say, or what advice to give.

Come on, say something. Your friend needs comfort, it’s your job to keep morale. Why can’t you think of something helpful?

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” Shadowheart let out an exasperated, lightly sardonic laugh, standing to her feet. Despite her plight, she still held onto her sense of humor. You admired that.

“Convincing me to become independent of myself, going against everything I was taught. Everything I thought I wanted. I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

She meant to tease you, judging by the playful smirk on her lips, but all you felt was the pit in your stomach. You didn’t doubt that you made the right decision, but it sucked that you didn’t know how to help Shadowheart in the aftermath. Before you had another chance to offer her a kind word, she chuckled and shook her head, offering you a small smile.

“Let’s sleep on this. If you’re convinced we’ve been this lost the whole time, I trust you. That’s not an easy feat, by the way.” She winked, walking back to her tent, leaving you sitting by the fire. Despite the warmth, you still felt the chill on your spine.

Before you had the chance to catch your breath, you heard a familiar smooth voice call your name, beckoning you to his tent. Without missing a beat, you stood to your feet, walking towards him.

Astarion’s fangs shined under the pale moonlight as he grinned at you, a goblet of red wine in his hand.

“There’s my favorite traveling companion.” He greeted with a purr, his slightly slurred, honeyed words catching your attention. He wanted something. “Won’t you have a drink with me? Our humble leader must be tired, tending to the other lost souls in our little band of misfits.”

“I don’t think I can drink after what happened, if I’m honest.” You dismissed, your brain still conjuring the image of Ketheric Thorm’s beaten-up corpse in the Illithid colony, his mouth hanging open as the soul left his body. You shivered. “I’m surprised you’re drinking tonight. We’re heading closer to Cazador tomorrow.”

Astarion frowned, disappointed when you didn’t humor him. “Darling, that’s precisely the reason why I’m drinking. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I’m just worried, is all. If you’re– gonna be in the right mental state for that kind of thing.”

He rolled his eyes, swishing the red liquid around in his goblet, staying silent. Truth is, he wasn’t in the right mental state. He didn’t think he ever would be. He was terrified, hoping that the adventure would be easier with some alcohol in his system. Instead, it just made him sadder, and more emotional. More irate. His lip twitched when you mentioned you were worried about him.

“You’re a sweetheart for worrying your pretty head over me. But I didn’t call you over here to coddle me.” He started, taking another smooth sip of his wine, letting it run down his throat with its comforting warmth. The kind of warmth a night of indulgence could never give to him.

“I want to know your opinion about my stance on the ritual. You know I’ve considered taking his place, right?” His eyebrows narrowed, leaning forward a little to try and get a read on your expressions.

You felt the same as you did with Shadowheart. That sinking feeling that you could say something wrong here, and ruin his perception of you.

“Yeah, I know. I’ve been… thinking on it.” You admitted with a long breath, really wishing you could run away right now. You weren’t in the right headspace, not focused or wise as you usually were.

“And?” He pressed further.

…

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“...What? Why not?” Astarion’s eyebrow raised, his tone slow and careful. And suddenly, your heart began to pound, your mind felt… clearer. You knew exactly what to say. So, you didn’t hesitate.

“You’re throwing away lives. I know they’re dead, I know they’re vampires and the public probably won’t waste too much time grieving. But you’ve forgotten who you are.”

His gaze darkened. Not at your dismissal of his idea, but at the gall you have. The gall you have to act like you’re smarter, wiser than he is. You must think you’re so much more put-together than him, huh?

“You’ll have lost everything you’ve worked for. You’ll get to lay in the sun again but at what cost? Your dignity will be gone, and your relationships with the people who love you will be gone. You’ll lose sight of yourself.” You chuckled, almost in disbelief at the fact that you need to even say this. “You’ll be exactly like the man you’re trying so hard to get away from.”

“I will never be like Cazador.”

“Really? Because if you go through with this… I… I don’t even think I’ll be able to tell you apart.”

He’s glaring at you, not saying a word, fighting the urge to spill his drink on you for even going that far.

Amid this silence, you begin thinking back. Remembering your words, and your mind lurched with regret. You shouldn’t have said that, gone that far. Especially when he was already so vulnerable. So fragile.

“Astarion-”

“Just leave. Let me drink in peace.”

His calm, firm tone terrified you. He could’ve stabbed you right there. Could’ve sucked every drop of blood out of your neck until you were an empty husk of a person on the floor, maybe screamed in your face. Instead, he sipped more wine in his goblet, too disgusted to even look at you anymore.

You felt blinding hot tears form in your eyes, your throat beginning to close as you tried to hide your face from him. Act like you didn’t want the earth to swallow you whole.

“Sleep well.” You rasped out, your voice cracking under the heavy weight you felt in your chest.

The camp was even quieter than before as you stepped towards your tent. You could hear the fish swimming in the nearby lakeside, peaceful and unaware of the horrors on the surface. Sitting on your bedroll, you prepared for a sleepless night.

…

The morning air was biting, clinging to the hairs on your arms as you let the sounds of the water against the rocks fill your senses. You decided to leave with the rest of the party around highsun, leaving you just the right amount of time to think on the events of last night.

Why was leadership so difficult last night? You were usually so alert, and dominant, commanding the attention of all who surrounded you, but Shadowheart was right.

You were lost; aimlessly wandering for someone, something to guide you in the right direction. You weren't a leader. It was foolish to think of yourself in that way. To think you could be a leader. How silly of you.

Maybe you could run away. Perhaps they'd be better off without you. Halsin or Wyll could take the reigns. Maybe Karlach. She has the soul for it, the passion.

You hugged your knees to your chest, closing your eyes. Focusing on the water. Trying desperately to focus on the water instead of the thoughts that threatened to consume you from the inside out.

From the trees behind your figure, you heard a low grunt, along with a scratch against tree bark, and a faint smell of honeycomb. You looked towards the noise, standing to your feet. As you stepped closer, watching your step, you noticed a flicker of brown fur in the depths of the bushes and leaves.

"Halsin?" You guessed in a quick whisper, hoping it wasn't a typical cave bear or a druid you didn't know. Your hand moved to the clasp on your hip where your dagger lay, holding your breath.

The bear looked at you when you called its name, its eyes twinkling with recognition. A bright light surrounded it, blinding it for a quick second before slowly fading as Halsin returned to his normal form.

“You startled me. What are you doing up so early?” His eyes were wide, a light pink across his cheeks at the sight of you in the glow of the morning sun. When your expression grew hesitant, he stepped closer.

“I had a rough night. It’s nothing to fuss over.” Your words came out unsure as if you didn’t know if it was wise to downplay your status to one of the wisest members of your troop or not. By the way his eyebrows narrowed down at you in disapproval, you figured the answer was clear.

“I’m honored to fuss over you, my friend.” His sentences were sweet, laced with warm, smooth honey that coated your worries and anxieties whenever he spoke. He had that effect on you. Perhaps it was his level-headed nature of being an arch-druid; being firm but caring. Or perhaps, you just got lucky. “Nothing that you could say would hinder my respect for you.”

He paused, as if considering his words, before shaking his head in dismissal. “Okay, there are some instances, but the probability of that is extremely low. You have nothing to fear.”

You laughed a little, relaxed in the proximity between the both of you. Halsin gestured to the lakeside where you previously were with a smile. “Come, sit with me.”

The morning air felt chilling once more. You wanted to tell him what you were feeling, but you couldn’t find the words for it. So, instead, you just decided to tell him what happened.

“I just… froze up last night. Shadowheart was feeling some anxiety over what the next step is, or if we’re just going in blindly.” You began, staring off into the soft ripples of the lake water. “I mean, I just feel so terrible for her. Devoting your entire self to someone, a goddess who didn’t deserve it. She must feel so empty.” Halsin frowned at your words, giving a silent agreement as he continued listening.

“I wanted to comfort her, wanted to…” You paused as you stumbled, finding the right words to say. You still felt like you were walking on eggshells. Even though Halsin’s comforting presence was right next to you. “Let her know that I’d be here for her, no matter what.”

“And you… didn’t say that?”

“No. All I could say was how sorry I was. Made her feel like she had to comfort me instead.”

You were mentally punching yourself while recalling the events of last night, and suddenly, your words began to flow out like a tidal wave being held back by a cracking dam.

“And immediately after, I don’t know why, maybe the divine fucking hates me, but I got in a fight with Astarion. I just got on his case when he didn’t ask for it. He didn’t need me lecturing him on my superior high horse. I could’ve handled it so much better, could’ve… done anything, but I didn’t,” you gave up on coming up with the words for how you were feeling, your head in your hands as you tried to ease the ache in your heart.

Halsin stayed quiet, despite having so much he wanted to say to you. He knew you had more brewing.

“I just don’t think I’m as cut out for this as everyone thinks I am.” Your tone was weak, hurt as if one more blow to your confidence would put you straight into Avernus.

“Hey, hey–” Halsin began, but before he could get a word out, you let out a dry chuckle, rolling your eyes. “You’d be so much better at this fucking leader thing. Karlach, Wyll. Even Scratch could do a better job–” “Hey, that’s enough.” Halsin spoke firmly, his stare piercing.

You shrunk, embarrassed as Halsin rebuked your self-deprecating language. Despite it, you didn’t feel like you lied.

“Listen, I can handle a lot. I’m a patient man, but when you spread lies about the people I respect and love, that’s where I draw the line.” Halsin began, scooting closer to you so you had to look him in the eye. “Have you forgotten everything you’ve accomplished, how far you’ve come, the sheer number of people who owe you their lives?”

A dark heat spreads across your cheeks. You didn’t mean to fish for compliments like this.

“The truth is” He pointed behind the both of you, towards camp. “None of those people would be where they are today without you. I’ll be the first to admit I also happen to fit in that category. Without a shadow of a doubt.”

He spoke earnestly, taking a quick breath before gently taking your hand in his. His skin felt rough, likely from calluses and scratches that being an outdoorsy man gave him. Despite how it felt, you felt safe in his gentle hold. “It feels like I owe every inch of myself to you. I don’t exaggerate when I say that.” His voice lowered in volume and pitch as he spoke to you, his eyes gazing into yours. He wanted you to let him in, let him love you.

You clung onto every word that left his lips in a speechless awe, your focus glued to the firm, but desperate look that he gave you. He was begging you to hear his words, but you still couldn’t shake the insecurity that burdened you so.

“I just don’t know what you all see in me.” Your voice was small, mirroring how you felt under Halsin’s hard gaze. Suddenly, his look softened, letting out a small laugh.

“You think every good leader is secure in themselves?”

“Well, yeah. You can’t be a good leader, commanding the confidence of your peers without being in tune with your abilities.”

Halsin listened, before laying on his stomach on the sand. “Let me tell you a secret. Something I’ve never told a soul.” He started, a smile on his face. Your eyes widened in curiosity, unconsciously leaning closer to Halsin’s figure.

He smiled wider. “Despite popular belief, I’ve made a mistake before.”

You blushed, embarrassed at how simple his words were. He laughed, leaning back up at you.

“You, my dear, need to cut yourself some slack. I know I’m horrible at that, but trust me when I say it will make you feel better. Focusing on what you could’ve done, what you could’ve said won’t make the recovery of your mistakes easier.”

He sat up again, nodding his head towards the lake. “Life flows, just like the water in front of us. Filled with waves moving up and down with the tide. You can’t be perfect. There will be days when your words will have empty meanings, or you won’t say the right thing. But that’s the best part of learning. When you fall…”

Halsin stands, offering you a hand. You take it.

“You get up again. And do better the next time you try.”

There you go, speechless again. Except this time, you were admiring him. The creases in his eyes when he smiled at you, the way his hand felt, protectively encasing yours. Being this close to him, you saw the waves in his brunette hair, the beautiful wrinkles in his skin, the strong biceps that you wished would hold you close.

For a few seconds, he drinks in the awkward silence of this moment, staring into your hypnotic eyes that threaten to consume his soul. The moment is gone when a small chuckle escapes him, and he looks towards the calm waters of the lake once more.

“Do you know what helps me when my mind wanders to dark places?” Halsin hummed. Your eyebrow raised.

“Swimming” He answered in a slow exhale, recalling treasured memories of his youth, swimming beside waterfalls and rushing river rapids. “Nothing compares to the natural cold waters against aching skin to clear the mind. I’d be happy to join you, if you’ll humor me.”

You thought about it for a moment. How long has it been since you’ve properly gone swimming, or even bathed for that matter? How long has it been since you’ve taken time for yourself to relax and let your mind rest? The memory of soft, warm cloth towels against your damp skin, that refreshing feeling of being squeaky clean and laying in the warmth of the sun as it dried your skin felt like a blur.

“Gods, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve done something of that caliber.” You breathed out, realizing what a toll this adventure had taken on you, the overwhelming weight lying on your shoulders.

“Maybe I could use a moment of respite.”

Halsin smiled, a warm satisfied smile. He felt honored to be able to give this to you. Every passing moment, he could swear he saw you working, rarely relaxed and laughing for the hell of it. He’d admit that he was a workaholic, but he knew when breaks were necessary. He wanted to pass that knowledge to you. He wanted to introduce you to the warm feeling of being nestled in Silvanus’s hand, with only the tranquil scent of rain and lavender filling your senses.

“I’ll look away as you undress. Let me know whenever you’re ready and we’ll jump in.” Halsin winked, turning his broad back towards you to give you a moment of privacy.

As you began to strip down, you considered what you were about to do. Swimming with Halsin was something you didn’t know you wanted this badly. Getting a moment where nobody needed or wanted anything of you, it made your heartbeat spike.

Clothes fell down the skin of your body onto the grass before you were even able to process the loud ‘splash!’ from the water beneath you. As you turned your head quickly to the source, a happy laugh escaped Halsin as he rose to the top of the water, shaking the water out of his long hair like a dog. As he noticed your startled expression, his excited eyes softened, a big apologetic smile on his face for scaring you. “I couldn’t resist!” He laughed, raising his arms out of the lake and gesturing for you to join him. “Come on in! The water’s heavenly!”

You couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight, cool, glistening waters, having fun, letting loose. Something you haven’t even thought about doing for weeks, months, perhaps. You’ve stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you’ve felt the comfort of good food, a warm bed, the comfort of laying in the arms of another.

As you jump in, the sharp coldness of the waters sting your skin, forcing a sharp gasp out of your throat once you rise to the surface of the waters. “You call this heavenly–?” You gasp out as Halsin barks out a laugh. “Of course! Cold waters cleanse the skin, hot waters soothe it. If you want to be truly relaxed after a long day, cold waters are the remedy.”

Gods, you knew he was right. But damn, if your lungs didn’t clench at the frigid lake waters around you.

“I could warm you a little, if you’re comfortable with that. It may be faster than swimming around like a madman trying to get the shivers out,” although a blush reddened the tips of his ears, dusting the surface of his cheeks, he had an earnest smile on his face, wanting you to have a good time with him.

You nod. Quickly. Anything sounds better than being alone, shivering while kicking your legs to keep yourself afloat.

His warm body pressed against yours as you ached for closeness. His stomach’s rise and fall with his breathing lost its calm rhythm when you inched even closer to him. Your skin felt like velvet against his, and his hands shook for a split second as he held you in the waters.

“There, plenty of warmth,” He chuckled. However, this wasn’t a typical Halsin chuckle. It was shaky, quieter. The way he held you in his strong hands was tighter than his usual hugs, and his breaths were faint, both in volume and length.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was quiet, a small trace of worry, and before he could speak, he averted his gaze, a hesitant look on his face. He paused for a few seconds, then spoke, out of necessity.

“I–have a confession to make,” Halsin let go of you, but maintained his closeness. “I wasn’t completely honest regarding my motive for bringing you out into these waters with me,”

“What’s wrong? Have you been struggling too? Halsin, you know you can tell me anything.”

He let out a humored laugh, but you could still sense the apprehension laced in it.

“You could say that. I’ve been fighting demons, my friend, and they’re stubborn with me,” He began, aching to touch you again, but holding himself back so as to not make you uncomfortable. “Ever since you saved Thaniel, saved nature, I’ve–I’ve longed to have you, whether that be physical or not. I don’t wish to merely fight at your side, laughing beside the campfire only to retire to our separate tents after. I want to find rest beside you; retire after a long day underneath the calmness of night with you.”

Your heart began to pound, your cheeks flushed. Halsin seemed passionate, talking about the many lovers he’d taken before you both had met and the long life of desire and freedom he had. You never thought he’d want you to share in it. Halsin took your stunned silence as an invitation to express himself a little more, confess everything he’d been holding back.

“I’m in your debt, you inspire me more than words can do justice, and for that reason, I don’t want to ruin the bond we share as equals. If you do not feel the same way, we can let this matter rest, return to camp, and never speak of this again,” He gently took your hand in his, letting his calloused thumb trace the peaks of your knuckles with his thumb. His eyes fell to where his hand met yours, cradling you like the beautiful flower he saw you as.

“But I must know if one day, I’d have the privilege of sharing in your love, experiencing what it’s like to be bonded with you. If I deny the inevitable any longer, I’ll burst.”

At his words, your heart soared, your mind clouded with passion. The way his hungry hazel eyes bore into yours, fingers twitching at his sides with the carnal urge to hold you close, claim your lips to his.

He shivered as he felt the softness of your hand gently stroke the definition of his arm, watching as it flexed involuntarily to the foreign sensation.

“As long as I get to share in yours.” You whispered, and Halsin couldn’t control the smile that spread across his lips, admiring you again.

“May I?” He asked breathlessly, still wanting to remain respectful of your boundaries, but you could tell, he’d be a kicked puppy if you dared say no to him. You nodded and leaned close to him once more, and he met you right in the middle, his hands finding purchase on your waist.

His lips were softer than imagined, tasting faintly sweet as he pushed a little his weight into the kiss. Although you really only imagined this being a quick, short and sweet exchange, you couldn’t help but lean more into him as his rough hand squeezed at your waist, moving to the small of your back. He let out a deep breath through his nostrils, his lips beginning to move slowly, methodically against yours.

When your fingers met his damp hair, he shivered, gently taking your waist back in his hands as he directed your body back into the waters with him. As you felt the temperature balance once more, comfortable in his protective hold, you began to nip at his lower lip.

You hear a deep groan in the back of his throat as he tightens his grip on you, his self-control beginning to slip away from him with every breathy sigh against his lips. Your legs slowly wrap around his. The warmth from his skin, even under the cool waters, makes your blood run hot.

His chest touches yours, the peaks of breast against chest, and he revels in it. With a start, his lips pull away from yours, and without a word, begin to eagerly press firm kisses down the side of your neck. You move your head to the side to give him more room.

A direct contrast from how they started, his kisses grew vigorous, desperate. His hands ache to touch every inch of your skin. Every curve, every imperfection. He wanted it all in the palms of his hands.

Halsin’s breathing is short as his kisses move further down to your collarbone, quickly growing addicted to the taste of your skin on his lips, his hands dancing across your skin under the waters. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t hold back any further. I—I need you to tell me to stop if that’s what you desire,” he breathed out, his heartbeat pounding with the stress of holding everything back.

The truth is, Halsin’s been craving this. Needing this. Needing you, for far too long by his standards. He’d gladly wait a lifetime for you, but with your warm skin pressed to his, your body being cradled so perfectly in his biceps—it was all making his mind melt.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you admitted with a sigh, fingertips tightening around his shoulders.

Yes, yes. This is what I need. Distract me, prove my self-deprecations wrong.

Halsin hardly needs any egging on in the first place, honestly, as he already has your wet body laying back down on the grass. You whine in the absence of warmth as the cool morning air hits your damp skin once more, but the image of Halsin between your thighs is enough to distract you from the cold.

His hair is damp, his eyes focused as he kisses your navel, the plushness of your thighs. A satisfied grunt leaves him as he runs his tongue along them, the beauty of you mixed with the earth filling his senses.

It doesn’t surprise you that the Druid gets off on the mixed scent and taste of sex and nature, especially not with the proof of being connected mouth-to-clit. His tongue is experienced, due to the many lovers he’s brought to ecstasy in the past, but he’s scarcely had this much desire towards someone. He gives a long, wet swipe of his tongue against your slick, wrapping his lips around the puffy bud up top and sucking against it, flicking his tongue with a rapid eagerness that has you spiraling.

He holds you to his mouth like you’re a means for survival, like he can’t see the colors of the Earth if not for your essence. As the taste of you settles on his tongue, he delves deeper, slurping up the arousal fluid that you’d been seeping out into the cool waters.

Your body begins to shake and stir, not wanting anything to do with an orgasm yet, merely wanting to bask in the moment. Halsin’s face is buried betwixt your thighs, his brown eyes locked on his work, focused and deliberate. His eyebrows splay in contentment. He’d spend an eternity down there if you’d let him.

However, your desperation for praise, his flowery words, caused you to tug your hips towards you, popping them away from the suction of Halsin’s lips. A small chuckle leaves him as he pushes himself out of the water, looming over your body on the cool grass.

He lets out a shaky, excited breath, connecting his lips to yours to show you how you tasted, to convey to you how happy he was to be here with you, after all the stress, turmoil, and victory.

As you disconnect from the kiss, his breath wavered even still, possibly more.

“You’re unbelievable, truly,” he huffs with a small laugh, biting his lip as he pulls you back into the waters with him, giving you small loving pecks on your lips.

“I haven’t done this in so long. It may hurt me.” The warning goes through him, but he simply chuckles, gently positioning himself between your thighs under the water.

“I’m here for you. To support you, to adore you,” He begins, snaking an arm around the curve of your waist to support your body in the comforting waters. “You need not worry, any pain you have, I will mend, with my touch and words.”

Once he sees you nod, his face moves to the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

That’s when it slides in, albeit, not very smoothly. Lake water has never been the best lubricant, but Halsin eases you through. His hands cascade through your hair, giving slow rubs to the back of your neck to distract you with a more pleasant sensation.

“Shh, you feel amazing… Hold on as tight as you need,” Halsin’s grip tightens for a split second or two around the skin of your nape before returning to a comforting looseness just seconds later. “I’m as content as can be at the moment, being like this with you.” His breathy, low voice goes straight to the pit of your stomach, exploding into tiny butterflies that have you reeling, pleading for more.

With soft kisses and flowery praises, your walls begin to finally relax, a siren song to lure Halsin into your depths.

He stays like that for a moment, drinking you in as his hips become flush with yours, under the water. He couldn’t ask to be anywhere else, a wide smile beginning to spread across his lips as his hips begin their slow, languid thrusts.

“You have no idea–” he starts with a smile, his hips beginning to find a consistent rhythm. “--how agonizing this wait has been, looking upon you from afar without even the slightest idea of how beautiful you could be.”

“You didn’t find me beautiful before?” You grin in a small, breathless laugh, eyes locked without waver on his.

“I found you breathtaking. That hasn’t changed…”

His arm, which was wrapped tightly around your midsection, begins to loosen, allowing himself to focus his strength on his movements and keeping you perfectly above water.

“What has changed is the way you feel. Your bare skin, pressed against mine. Just like this.”

As you both move like this, he continues to whisper loving words, breathless “thank you”s, like you’d given him the stars for allowing him to take you so intimately. A symphony of his moans and groans fill your ears as his movements begin to pick up pace.

An overwhelming gust of warmth flows in your abdomen, a blossoming flower of fire that makes your body violently quake and shiver, yet Halsin holds you protectively still, relishing in the fact that he’s the one making you this vulnerable underneath him, and every inch of his focus is on you.

Halsin’s breaths grow vocal now, his arms supporting his weight with every deep and carnal thrust into you. Every movement is calculated, learning every sweet spot and which angles made you feel the most. He savors the sight of your mind-boggling orgasm, the feeling of your fingers grasping at his hair, pulling down at the wet strands for support.

“My heart— my beloved,” He rasps out in the crevice of your neck, feeling himself fall deeper and deeper in love with you with every sloppy, quick thrust against your cervix. His dick practically swims in the glory of your orgasm, your fluid dripping out into the waters from him with every withdrawal. Meanwhile, your mind grew fogged, pussy practically milking him as it clenches with every overstimulation he delivers through his eager movements.

“Gods, do you hear that?” Halsin grunts in your ear, a satisfied smile spread across his lips. He begins to buck his hips with promise to prove his point. The sloshes of the lake water mixed with your labored breathing, raspy moans from the overexertion sound like music to his ears. He turns you over, lifting your lower body out of the water just barely to watch the water splash with every thrust into your sloppy cunt that swallowed him oh-so-perfectly.

One thing about Halsin was that he adored the sound of sex. Not just the moans, although those were a great bonus. No, no. He loved the environmental reaction to love-making. Skin against skin as you indulged him, laying back on the grass as he begins to fuck you just barely over the water, enough to make small splashes with every connection of his hips to the curve of your ass.

“Hahh—Halsin!” You breathe out, biting down onto the meat of your finger to ease the sensitive stimulation. Oh, how he loved hearing his name fall from your lips so carelessly. “Say my name again… Your voice is heavenly…” he speaks with a low mumble, too lost in this rapture to make a proper sentence. His calves tighten as he adjusts the angle to loom over your back, and suddenly flips you over again to look into your eyes as you lay on the grassy ledge. He takes your thigh in hand, right below the curve of your knee, and lifts it up to your chest to get better access to you. The water drips off his stomach, and you now see his body in its full glory as he stares down at you.

The remnants of your slick glimmer against his chin and lips, the curve of his belly brush deliciously against your navel, his damp, long hair dripping down onto your bare body as he fucks into you like a man desperate for salvation, and his deep grunts that leave his throat and straight to your core. Every movement seems to flow in slow motion, and the sounds of his needy, desperate groans in the crook of your neck gave your body enough of an excuse to cum again, but this time, you weren’t alone.

Halsin’s breathing grows louder as his legs begin to spasm from under him, fingers grasping at the Earth for leverage. “You’re close again… Don’t worry. I’m… ngh—right there with you,” His words come out shaky, wavered as his thrusts begin to pick up with a grunt. He moves a little, hoisting your leg up further while turning at an angle to thrust deeper than he already was, making you see stars. You can’t help the floodgates from crashing open as you coat his dick with your cum for a second time.

“Yes–yes… There you are…” He breathes out, a small smile spreading across his lips at the feeling of your release around him, your walls spasming from it all as he gives a harsh, lasting thrust into your core, painting your insides with his seed. You feel a warm shiver run up your spine at the sensation of him filling you up to the brim, bottoming out inside you as his legs shiver a little against yours.

A relieved, satisfied groan sounds at the back of his throat, attempting not to collapse on top of you. “Come to me… My heart.” He whispers, laying on the cool grass, soothing his hot skin. You find solace in his warmth, placing small pecks on his lips to try to make up for how exhausted you are.

“Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough, was I?” His breath comes out wavered, his hands roaming over your body to make sure he didn’t bruise you too much or scratch you. “You were perfect. I’ll be sore for a bit, but I’m alright,” you manage to chuckle out, your chest heaving up and down with the lack of air. “I feel incredible.”

“You deserve to feel that way, love.” Halsin moves up, caressing your body with feathery touches and loving rubs, your ear now pressed to his bicep while he holds your back to his chest. You stay there for a few minutes, basking in the glory of his warmth and embrace.

He lifts his head from the grass to admire your face. “Once we return to camp, I think it would be wise to release your tensions with Shadowheart and Astarion. If we’re to make this trek to the city, we must be connected and in understanding of one another.”

You sigh and nod, but not out of exasperation.

“I will. I’ll make it right. I want to.”

He smiles and sits up, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss.

“Fate has spun itself beautifully to have me end up with an individual like you in my arms.”

You smile, genuinely. In love, and happy. This adventure has taken you down winding, treacherous roads. But the warmth of your companions and peers have brought you and leveled you into who you are. A friend, a lover, a confidante, and a leader.

#bg3 halsin #bg3 astarion #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur’s gate iii #halsin silverbough #Halsin #Halsin x reader #bg3 Halsin x reader #Halsin Silverbough x reader #bg3 x reader #smut #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #fanfiction #smut fic #hurt/comfort #Shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart

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aethes-bookshelf · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x halsin #halstarion #bloodbear #hurt/comfort #my writing #bg3 #astarion x tav x halsin #astarion x reader x halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x reader

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sorcerous-caress · 1 year ago

Note

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.

#♡Karlach #♡Halsin #♡wyll #♡Laezel #♡fluff #♡angst #♡hurt comfort #♡tiefling tav #karlach x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #laezel x reader #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #fluff #hurt/comfort #tiefling Tav

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thedomesticanthropologist · 1 year ago

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"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!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion romance #halsin #halsin the druid #halsin x tav #halsin x tav x astarion #if you squint #mira the cleric #tales of mira #hurt/comfort #fluff fanfic #drabbles #shorts

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worfs-glorious-hair · 3 months ago

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tempting fate (beth crowley) • the night we met (lord huron) • just a man (epic - the musical) • can’t catch me now (olivia rodrigo)

the case of a sneaky god and a broken heart

textposts + lyrics

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warnings: swearing, slight sexual implications

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fem and Masc versions on AO3

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

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

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

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

Warnings: none

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

Warnings: swearing, Karen, so many italics

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

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

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

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)

Safety - AO3 - Astarion & nb!OC

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

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

Warnings: references to Astarion's 200 years under Cazador

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

Warnings: nudity, bathing together, very slight angst

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

Warnings: references to Astarion's time under Cazador

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

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST

Remedies - AO3 - Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: pain, crying

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warnings: none

Wyll Ravengard

Horn Care - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and food, possibly OOC

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

Dragon Slayer - AO3 - Wyll x male!OC

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

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)

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

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

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

Haarlep

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

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

241 notes · View notes

girlwithadragonheart · 5 months ago

Text

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!

332 notes · View notes

moonselune · 4 months ago

Note

Based off events happening to me today:

Tav feeling super anxious for no reason and spiralling and they don't know why and their partner trying to help?

Please

Aw bless, i know this was sent a while ago but I hope things are okay xox

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The night was still, the kind of deep silence that should have felt soothing, wrapped in Karlach’s warmth and the safety of her arms. But tonight, the silence pressed on you, heavy and smothering, like a dark tide rising in your chest. Karlach had already drifted off beside you, one arm draped protectively across you as if even in sleep she wanted to keep you close, shield you.

You tried to breathe through it, tried to focus on the feeling of her arm, the softness of her skin against yours. But each inhale grew tighter, your chest clenching, until it felt like your lungs were refusing to open. Heart pounding, you clenched the sheets in your fists, trembling, as the world around you blurred and closed in, warping until you couldn’t tell up from down, awake from dreaming.

The sound of your labored breaths must have pulled Karlach from her sleep, because her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep until they landed on you and filled with immediate concern.

“Hey…hey, babe, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice low and soothing, though you could hear the edge of worry she tried to mask. Her hand, warm and steady, came up to your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin. “You’re shaking, love—talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You tried to speak, to respond with something reassuring, anything that would tell her you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The walls felt like they were closing in, your vision tunneling, and you couldn’t look away from Karlach, from her face. She was here, with you, yet you felt like you were slipping away.

Karlach’s brows knitted together, her own chest tightening with helplessness. She’d faced countless enemies, survived the hellscape of Avernus, and yet here—watching you crumble in front of her—she didn’t know what to do. Her hand moved to clasp yours, fingers intertwining tightly as though she could anchor you back to reality.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice firmer now, taking on the same tone she’d use in battle, one she knew you trusted. “Breathe with me, okay? Just…try to match my breath. In and out. You’ve got this.”

You tried, focusing on her, on the gentle rhythm of her breathing, but it felt like you were trapped in a storm, and the calm Karlach offered was just out of reach. She watched you, distress clear in her expression as she realized her words weren’t getting through, and the soft crackle of her engine, the familiar hum, only made the quiet around you seem louder.

“Dammit,” she whispered, voice wavering. “I’m here, alright? Whatever’s got you like this, I’m right here.” She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her face into your hair as if she could absorb some of the weight pressing down on you. “You’re safe. I swear it. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not if I’m here.”

Her presence, so solid and unyielding, cut through the fear just enough to let you take a shuddering breath, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Her fingers traced comforting circles against your back, and she murmured soft, nonsensical reassurances, the kind of quiet comforts she’d never shared with anyone before you.

“You don’t have to talk,” she whispered, though the waver in her voice told you she desperately wished she knew what was happening in your mind. “Just…squeeze my hand, okay? Let me know you’re still here with me.”

With a shaky breath, you did, your fingers trembling but firm enough as you held onto her. Her eyes softened, filling with relief as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return.

“You’re not alone in this,” she continued, her voice barely above a murmur. “Whatever’s in your head… I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words, grounding and soothing, began to penetrate through the fog of your mind, the relentless weight lifting bit by bit. Karlach pressed her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face as she matched her breathing to yours, syncing your uneven gasps with her steady inhales. Each breath felt a little easier, her warmth and steady presence like an anchor pulling you back from the depths.

Minutes passed, and gradually, the panic ebbed, the tightness in your chest loosening as you took in her scent, the comfort of her closeness. She stayed with you, patient and unwavering, until you felt the storm inside finally begin to calm.

When you looked up at her, her eyes were full of worry, tinged with guilt as though she could’ve done more.

“Are you…feeling any better?” she asked, brushing a hand through your hair, voice gentle. You nodded, squeezing her hand as you gave her a shaky smile, trying to reassure her.

“Thank you, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice still unsteady. “I…don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, though there was a vulnerability in her gaze, the depth of her worry for you still lingering. “You don’t have to know,” she said softly, pulling you close again. “Because I’m always going to be here.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The anxiety came on suddenly, like a wave crashing over you, quick and relentless, stealing the air from your lungs. Your thoughts spun out of control, a tangled mess of doubts, worries, and fears, each one feeding off the last, building into something you couldn’t escape. You felt trapped inside your own head, barely aware of your surroundings, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of the table, fighting to anchor yourself to something solid.

Minthara had been beside you moments before, going over plans for the night’s camp watch, her calm, steely focus grounding in its own way. But as she turned back to you, her face changed. The sharpness in her gaze softened ever so slightly, concern bleeding through the cracks of her usual impassive mask.

“What is wrong?” Her voice was low, steady—meant to command, to cut through confusion. But the tone only made your pulse race faster, your mind recoiling from the idea of appearing weak before her.

“Nothing,” you managed to choke out, but it was obvious you were lying, and she wasn’t one to suffer dishonesty lightly.

“Don’t lie to me,” she bit out, but you could tell her voice was more uncertain than sharp. She reached out a hand, her fingers hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the display of vulnerability before her. Minthara was a force, a warrior who understood battlefields, strategy, survival. But this—the swirling, choking darkness you felt—wasn’t something she could simply attack head-on, and that realization seemed to unsettle her.

She watched as you struggled to control your breathing, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Speak to me,” she said again, more insistently this time, almost as if ordering you to snap out of it.

You could barely hear her over the racing thoughts in your head, each more overwhelming than the last. Anxiety had taken root deep inside you, and no amount of her demanding tone or even her solid presence could shake it loose.

“I—I can’t,” you managed, voice barely more than a whisper.

Minthara’s frustration grew, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flickering around the room as though looking for something tangible she could fight, something she could fix. But there was nothing there, nothing to direct her fury at.

“This… fear,” she said finally, the word tasting foreign and strange in her mouth. “I don’t understand it. It has no shape, no sense. You’re strong; why can’t you just… dismiss it?” Her tone was more questioning than chastising, but you still flinched, the ache of not being understood cutting deeper.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, closing your eyes, trying to block out her piercing gaze. The words you wanted to say fell short, each attempt at an explanation slipping through your fingers. “It’s not that simple, Minthara. I can’t just will it away.”

For a moment, she stood there, silent, wrestling with her own irritation and helplessness. Her fists clenched at her sides, jaw tense. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she closed the distance between you, placing her hands on your shoulders in a grip that was firm, grounding.

“Look at me,” she ordered, and you forced yourself to meet her gaze, even as your mind continued to spin. “You are here. Right here, with me.” Her voice softened, but just barely, a rough edge of vulnerability breaking through. “There is no battle now, no foe to fight—only this moment.”

The warmth of her hands, the solidity of her presence, pulled you back, anchoring you even as you felt yourself slipping away. Her eyes held yours with a determination that cut through some of the fog, her grip on you a reminder that you weren’t alone.

“Focus on my voice, on my touch,” she murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration as she struggled to find the right words. “Breathe with me.”

You tried, inhaling deeply to match the steady rise and fall of her own breathing. The rhythm was grounding, a tether pulling you back toward something real, something outside of the chaos in your head.

“Minthara… I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt flooding in as the worst of the panic ebbed, leaving exhaustion in its place. “I didn’t mean to… drag you into this.”

She huffed, shaking her head as her grip tightened ever so slightly.

“I don’t need your apologies,” she replied, her tone gruff but with a warmth hidden beneath. “Just… tell me how to help you next time. If there is a way.”

You nodded, her words a balm against the ache in your chest. “This… was enough.”

She scoffed lightly, but her lips softened into the barest hint of a smile. “Good.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The world around you feels tight, claustrophobic, like it's closing in with each passing moment. Every sound is sharp, too loud, and every breath feels short, strained, as though you're inhaling smoke. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something—anything—but the rush of thoughts is relentless, tangling together, louder, and louder, until—

"Vlakith's eyes, what is wrong with you?"

Lae'zel's voice breaks through the noise, her tone sharp with annoyance, and though it's a familiar sound, it only heightens the chaos in your mind. You glance up at her, barely able to meet her gaze, your hands gripping the edges of your cloak tightly, knuckles white. Your vision swims, and there's something vulnerable, exposed, in your look that catches her off-guard. She crosses her arms, brow furrowing deeply.

"What has brought you to this pathetic state?" she demands, though her tone carries a slight edge of uncertainty. Lae'zel isn't used to this, to seeing you so unsteady. Her impatience seems almost protective, like she's annoyed that she can't simply strike down whatever is plaguing you.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. Your throat feels constricted, tight, and suddenly, your chest aches, like you're being crushed from the inside. Your heart races, and it’s hard to keep your breathing steady. Each attempt to explain feels pointless, small words incapable of conveying the tangle inside you.

"Lae'zel, I—" you start, but your voice cracks, and you feel a pang of embarrassment. You look away, frustration mingling with the turmoil inside, and that only makes everything worse.

Lae'zel huffs, her usual directness faltering. You see the familiar tension in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes as she looks at you with something close to confusion, maybe even worry.

"Are you injured? Poisoned?" she asks, her gaze flickering over you as though searching for some sign of physical harm. "Speak, or have you lost your tongue as well?"

Your breaths come quicker, shallower, and Lae'zel's frustration intensifies. She reaches out, her hand hovering over your shoulder, fingers twitching with restrained force. She’s trying to understand, trying to solve this the way she would a problem on the battlefield, yet it's clear she has no idea what to do.

"Lae'zel," you manage, voice barely a whisper. "I—I can't—" The words crumble into silence, and you turn away, feeling an overwhelming need to escape, to be anywhere but here.

But she doesn’t let you. Instead, she steps in front of you, her figure imposing, her expression a mix of irritation and something else, something softer that she would never acknowledge out loud.

"Cease this nonsense," she orders, her tone still sharp. "You are stronger than this. Why are you allowing yourself to be reduced to a trembling wretch?"

You can see her impatience clashing with her own helplessness, the unease in her gaze as she watches you struggle. She wants to fix it, to fight it, but anxiety isn’t an enemy she can face with her blade.

"Lae'zel, I don’t… I don’t know what to do," you finally admit, feeling the words rush out in a painful confession. "Everything feels like—like it’s too much. I can't… I can’t stop it."

Her expression softens, if only slightly, as she processes your words. Her hand hesitantly comes to rest on your shoulder, her grip firm, grounding. She sighs, exasperated, but there’s a trace of something else, a rare tenderness lurking beneath her frustration.

"This… weakness of yours," she mutters, her gaze piercing but not unkind, "it will not conquer you. You are stronger than this."

You swallow, looking down, but her hand tightens on your shoulder, commanding your attention.

"I do not know how to battle something that lives only in your mind," she admits, voice low, almost reluctant. "But I will not let it claim you."

The honesty in her words, the sincerity that she rarely shares, cuts through the haze. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to help, but she’s here, and she’s not backing away.

"Look at me," she says, her voice softer, less an order and more a plea. "You are not alone, do you hear me? You are… mine." She pauses, the weight of that admission hanging in the air, her hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, fingers steadying.

You nod, taking a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease under her touch. Her hand remains firm, anchoring you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

"If this… feeling attempts to overtake you again," she says, struggling with the words, "know that I am here. And I will not let you fall."

Her words, her strength, they begin to ground you, to steady the spiraling thoughts. It’s not perfect, and she’s still as impatient and brash as ever, but in her own way, she’s offering you solace.

"Thank you," you manage, voice trembling but genuine. Lae'zel huffs, her hand leaving your shoulder with an awkward pat.

"Yes, well, see that you regain your senses soon," she mutters, though her eyes linger on yours, holding a warmth that belies her gruffness.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The evening had started peacefully, with you and Shadowheart sharing a quiet moment by the fire, watching embers flicker against the backdrop of the starlit sky. Shadows from the flames danced across her face, lending her beauty a mysterious, ethereal quality. She was curled against you, her head on your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours, her touch warm and steady. But somewhere in the calm, a ripple of unease began to grow, small and sharp, turning slowly into a twisting, thorny mass of thoughts in your chest.

At first, you tried to ignore it, keeping your breath steady, your hand still wrapped around hers. But the familiar pressure started to mount, your heart drumming an erratic rhythm in your chest, thoughts racing faster than you could tether them. Each breath seemed to get shorter, constricted, your mind and body spiraling in sync.

Shadowheart noticed the change, her fingers stilling in yours as she looked up at you.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft, but laced with growing concern.

You tried to nod, tried to answer her, but words lodged themselves in your throat, and a stifling silence stretched out instead. The familiar symptoms crept over you—sweat beading on your forehead, heart hammering, mind racing in a flurry of worst-case scenarios and creeping fears you couldn’t explain. You closed your eyes, trying to drown out the overwhelming rush of it all.

“Hey… look at me.” Shadowheart’s voice was a steady anchor, but even that felt distant, unreachable. She tightened her hold on your hand, shifting to face you fully, her expression growing more worried by the second. “You’re not all right, are you?”

There was a helplessness in her gaze, a deep, worried line creasing her forehead. Shadowheart was no stranger to combat, to wounds and battle scars—but this was different. She couldn’t simply fight off whatever was holding you hostage.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she whispered, squeezing your hand, her other hand reaching to cup your cheek. “Please, tell me how to help you.”

The words barely registered. Your mind was racing too fast, filled with an overwhelming wave of dread and nameless anxieties that seemed to suffocate you from within. Your breath grew shallower, panic clawing at the edges of your awareness. You felt untethered, as though you were floating far from your own body, lost in a sea of dread.

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, struggling to find something, anything to ground yourself.

Shadowheart’s eyes widened, and her hand on your cheek grew firmer, more determined.

“I’m right here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a fierce, protective tone. “Look at me. Just focus on me. Forget everything else.”

But focus seemed impossible, your thoughts spiraling faster and faster, like being caught in a current you couldn’t swim against. You clutched at her hand like a lifeline, but even that felt like it was slipping away, your mind lost in a haze of fear and helplessness.

Shadowheart’s breath hitched, her distress evident.

“I don’t know how to help, but I’m not leaving you,” she whispered, her voice laced with a tremor of frustration—at herself, at this intangible enemy pulling you away from her. “Please, just… keep holding onto me. Try to breathe with me, okay?”

She brought her forehead to rest against yours, closing her eyes, and began to breathe in slow, measured counts, her breaths steady, an anchor in the chaos. She kept her hand on your cheek, her fingers tracing gentle circles against your skin, grounding you in the feeling of her warmth, the solid reality of her presence.

For a long time, you remained caught in the grip of panic, but Shadowheart didn’t waver. She continued to hold you, her voice a constant murmur of reassurance.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe,” she repeated softly, her thumb brushing gently across your cheek. And slowly, so slowly, you began to feel the weight lifting, your breaths aligning with hers, each inhale and exhale pulling you a little closer to the present.

When your breathing finally slowed, the panic ebbing to a dull throb, you opened your eyes, meeting her gaze. Her face was etched with relief and lingering worry, her own breaths still steady but shallow, as if she had been holding them alongside you.

“There you are,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing softly across your skin. “I didn’t know how to help, but… I’m glad you stayed with me.”

You managed a nod, exhausted but grateful, letting her presence soothe you as the last remnants of fear melted away. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, and the weight of her love and care filled the hollow spaces where panic had once dwelled.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The night was still, the crackling of the campfire softened by a light breeze, but it was doing nothing to calm the spiraling chaos in your mind. Your chest was tight, and your breaths came shallow and quick, as if you couldn’t pull in enough air, couldn’t hold enough of it to ground yourself. Panic wrapped its relentless grip around you, twisting with each racing thought. Everything felt unbearably close, as though the walls of the night itself were pressing in on you.

Jaheira had been sitting beside you by the fire, recounting stories of her travels, her words lulling you to a quiet peace until the wave had started to take over. She turned to you, her face creasing with worry as she noticed the change, her warm expression shifting to one of sharp concern.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft, hands reaching toward yours.

You tried to nod, tried to ground yourself in her gaze, but the pressure in your chest only grew tighter. The world felt unreal, and no matter how much you fought it, your mind kept spiraling—thoughts blending together, fears and memories piling up until everything was a tangled mess of what-ifs and impossible scenarios.

Jaheira’s eyes widened, realizing something was deeply wrong. Her hands, usually so steady and controlled, trembled as she gently cupped your face.

“Look at me,” she urged, her voice gentle but laced with urgency. “Breathe, alright? Slow breaths. Focus on my voice.”

Her hands were warm, grounding in a way, but even her touch couldn’t completely pull you back. Every fiber of you was fighting to calm down, to ease the storm in your mind, but each attempt felt like trying to grasp smoke. The panic felt endless, and you could see the worry deepen in Jaheira’s eyes as you struggled to respond.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she glanced around as if seeking an answer in the shadows of the trees. “Please, just… breathe with me, alright? We’ll get through this.”

Her distress tugged at you, piercing through the haze just enough to make you feel guilty for causing her pain, but even that seemed to add to the spiral. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to fight back the rising tide of panic, but it was no use. The tighter you tried to hold on, the harder it was to breathe, and soon you were gasping, fingers digging into the ground as if holding on to something solid could somehow anchor you.

Jaheira shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you tightly against her.

“Please, love, come back to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.”

There was a desperation in her tone that broke through, her words pressing into the heart of the storm inside you. She was grounding herself in trying to ground you, holding you with a fierce tenderness, her arms strong and unyielding, as if her very presence could keep the panic from consuming you whole. Her fingers gently traced patterns across your back, her breath steady and even as she held you close.

“You’re safe,” she repeated, each word soft and deliberate. “I know it feels overwhelming, but it will pass. Just focus on my voice. I’m right here.”

Little by little, her words began to take root, the pressure loosening in your chest as you leaned into her touch. She kept whispering softly, her words a steady thread that you latched onto, pulling yourself out of the spiral, inch by inch.

After a few minutes, the panic began to ebb, replaced by a heavy exhaustion. Jaheira’s hands never left you, her touch constant and reassuring, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

When you finally looked up, her face was tear-streaked, her expression full of relief and love.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw and shaky. Jaheira shook her head, a faint, tearful smile breaking through as she held you tighter.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied, her tone full of quiet conviction. “I’d face a thousand battles for you… I’ll face this one too. I don’t care how hard it is, how lost you feel. I’ll be here, every time.”

Her words sank in, a warmth settling in the hollow ache that the panic had left behind. You buried your face against her shoulder, letting her words, her presence, become your anchor.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

It started as a low tremor in your chest—a tiny thread of worry that, on most days, might pass unnoticed. But tonight, under the quiet candlelight and warmth of Gale’s study, it begins to unfurl, insidious, growing with every heartbeat until you’re barely breathing, barely aware of anything but the constriction in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that something is very wrong.

The book in your hands slips to the floor with a soft thud, but it sounds like a thunderclap to your frayed nerves. You clutch the edge of the armrest, struggling for air, unable to quite ground yourself in the room, in the moment.

“Hey… Are you alright?” Gale’s voice breaks through, sounding far off despite his closeness. You can hear the alarm creeping into his tone, and when he moves closer, kneeling beside you, his hands hover uncertainly in the air as though he’s afraid to touch you, unsure of what might help. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

You want to answer, to say anything, but the words knot up in your throat. Each inhale feels like it could be your last, shallow and jagged, and all you can do is try to gasp for air that never seems to fully come.

Panic flickers in Gale's eyes, an emotion so rarely seen in him. He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers over your shoulder, and then, with more urgency, taking your hand in his.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, even though he’s clearly just as frightened. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You look at him, his face swimming in your vision, distorted by the intensity of your anxiety. A silent tear slips down your cheek, and the sight of it seems to make him crumble. Gale has seen you in battle, in moments of joy and sorrow, but this—this paralyzing, quiet fear—is something entirely new.

“I don’t know what to do, love,” he whispers, voice trembling as he brushes your hair back, his thumb grazing your cheek, catching another tear as it falls. “Just… tell me how to help.”

“I—” Your voice catches, barely a whisper, almost inaudible. “I don’t… I can’t…”

“I’m here,” he repeats, his words soft but determined. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” His hands find yours again, holding them firmly as though his touch alone might be enough to anchor you, to pull you back from the edge.

As the minutes pass, Gale settles beside you on the floor, crossing his legs, staying as close as he can without overwhelming you. His gaze doesn’t waver, fixed on you with a quiet intensity, like he’s willing his calmness to wash over you, to lend you even a sliver of the steadiness that you desperately need.

"Try to breathe with me, alright?" he says after a moment, keeping his voice steady and low, a soft, warm undertone that you can just barely latch onto. "One breath at a time. In, and then out. I’ll do it with you."

You try to focus on him, on the cadence of his words, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he inhales deeply and then lets it out in a slow, measured release. In and out. Over and over. And gradually, your breaths begin to mirror his, hesitant at first but then finding a shaky kind of sync.

Minutes pass in silence, with Gale whispering quiet reassurances, his fingers tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. He stays close, his presence a grounding force, his warmth beginning to break through the fog.

When the weight in your chest finally begins to ease, your breaths evening out, Gale’s face softens, relief flashing in his eyes as he catches your gaze.

“You’re alright,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “We’re alright.”

You nod, swallowing back a fresh wave of emotion, this time not from fear but from the tenderness in his voice, the unwavering patience in his gaze.

Gale raises a hand to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, his own eyes glassy with tears of shared relief. "I was… so afraid," he admits, voice thick. "I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing."

“You did… just right,” you whisper, the words rough but sincere. You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

He smiles softly, and the tension in his shoulders melts, replaced by an aching tenderness. “Anytime you need, I’ll be here,” he says. “For as long as you want me.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night air was heavy, pressing in as you sat by the dying embers of the campfire, your chest tight and breaths shallow. You weren’t even sure when the panic had crept in, only that it was there now, spreading like wildfire. The familiar, suffocating weight of anxiety had taken root, pushing thoughts out of control and magnifying every minor fear into something insurmountable.

Astarion was the first to notice, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of deepening concern. He took a step closer, his sharp eyes studying you as if searching for some sign he could decipher. You could tell he was trying to mask his worry, but his brow was furrowed, and his hands fidgeted by his sides.

"Love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with tension. "What's happening? What’s… what’s wrong?"

You tried to respond, but your throat felt closed, as if something tangible were lodged there, blocking any words from escaping. Your mind was awash with racing thoughts, each one louder and more pressing than the last, spiraling faster and faster until you felt lost in the noise.

Astarion reached out, hesitating as though unsure of what to do or how to help, his hand hovering before finally resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey… Look at me, please. Whatever this is, you’re not alone. I’m here."

But you couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed downward, hands gripping your knees in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. The fear clawed at you, telling you things would never be alright, that you’d be forever trapped in this choking panic. You could feel Astarion’s fingers tighten, his voice growing sharper with unease.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. You heard him curse under his breath, the usual mask of bravado slipping away to reveal a vulnerability he rarely showed. He seemed almost frantic, as if desperately trying to piece together what was happening.

A moment later, he lowered himself beside you, his voice gentler, softer. “Listen. Please, listen to me, alright? You don’t have to say anything, but… I need you to hear me.”

You gave a small, involuntary nod, still struggling to focus on anything outside the panic raging inside you. Astarion took a shaky breath, reaching out to take your hand in his. His grip was uncharacteristically warm, steadying, the weight of it something solid to anchor you to the present.

“This feeling, whatever it is… it won’t last forever,” he said, his tone steadying, as if willing it to be true. “I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but just… try to breathe with me, alright? One breath at a time.”

His voice was calm, even if his expression was anything but. You could see the worry etched in his face, the faint tremor in his hand that betrayed his own anxiety. But he kept speaking, his voice low and unwavering, grounding you with each word.

“Just follow my breath. In… and out,” he whispered, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve spent years in the dark, chained to my own mind, and… and I don’t know how to take away your pain. I want to. But for now… let me be here.”

His words cut through the fog of your mind, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. His hand squeezed yours, the slight pressure a reminder of his presence, steady and constant. Gradually, painfully, you tried to match his breaths, focusing on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hand in yours.

Astarion’s fingers brushed over your knuckles, his touch delicate as if you were something fragile he feared might break. “Whatever darkness you’re feeling, I’ll stay right here. I swear it. And when you’re ready, I’ll help you put the pieces back together.”

The sincerity in his voice was a balm, easing the sharp edges of panic that had gripped you. It was strange, seeing him so unguarded, so openly vulnerable. He stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a lifeline through the worst of the storm. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind humor or bravado; he was simply there, raw and real, with you in your fear.

Slowly, your breaths evened, the crushing weight in your chest loosening just enough for you to draw in a full breath. Astarion noticed immediately, a glimmer of relief softening his expression. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, his voice a quiet murmur.

“There you are,” he whispered, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “One breath at a time. And I’ll be here, through all of it.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, squeezing his hand in return. For once, words felt unnecessary. Just the quiet presence of him beside you, his unwavering loyalty, was enough. And as the remnants of fear finally ebbed away, you leaned into him, letting yourself be held, comforted by the knowledge that, with him, you were never alone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The first sign is a subtle tremor in your hands, just barely visible, but enough that you feel the prickle of dread in the pit of your stomach. You can’t seem to get a full breath in, your chest tight and shallow as though your lungs are pressing up against a wall. You try to steady yourself, forcing a long inhale and focusing on the quiet rhythm of the camp around you—the distant crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices.

But it doesn’t help. The edges of your vision start to blur, and your thoughts are racing, slipping through your grip like sand.

Wyll is the first to notice, his keen eyes catching the slight shake in your hands, the way your gaze is unfocused. He’s by your side in an instant, worry written in every line of his face as he crouches down, his hand hovering near your shoulder, hesitant.

“Hey, love… Are you all right?” His voice is soft, careful, but it only makes your anxiety spike higher.

You try to speak, to reassure him that you’re fine, that it’s nothing, but the words stick in your throat, tangled and heavy. The more you try to grasp at them, the more they slip away, leaving you fumbling in silence, feeling the wave of panic rise higher and higher.

Wyll’s face changes, his brows knitting together as he takes in the silence, the unsteady breath you’re forcing through clenched teeth.

“Okay, all right…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his fingers reaching out tentatively to rest on your arm. “I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I’m right here.”

You’re barely able to nod, the gesture feeling stiff and unnatural, your muscles locked in tension. A small part of you wants to pull away, to hide this unraveling from him, but you can’t move, trapped in a fog of your own spiraling thoughts.

Wyll swallows, clearly unsettled, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand is warm and steady against your arm, grounding even as your mind spins further out of control. He leans closer, voice steady but laced with a faint tremor. “Tell me what you need. Anything, I’ll do it. Just… tell me how to help.”

But you can’t; the words are gone, buried beneath the weight of your anxiety, the way it presses against your chest like a vice. You’re lost in a spiral, every thought louder and more overwhelming than the last, each one feeding into the next in a relentless loop.

You close your eyes, shaking your head slightly, as if that might shake loose the panic.

Wyll’s hand tightens, his grip firm and reassuring even in his own uncertainty. He takes a slow, measured breath, almost as if he’s trying to model it for you, trying to lead you into his rhythm.

“I… I don’t know if this’ll help,” he says, his voice low and soft. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.”

He inches closer, one hand tentatively reaching for yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. The steady warmth of his touch breaks through the fog just enough to let you catch a hint of reality, a reminder of something outside the panic. You try to focus on it, letting the sensation ground you.

Your breath is still shallow, your thoughts still racing, but Wyll doesn’t falter. He keeps his hand over yours, murmuring soft reassurances, his voice steady and calm even as his own anxiety edges into his expression.

Slowly, the crushing pressure in your chest begins to lessen, the loop of thoughts beginning to lose its hold. You focus on Wyll’s touch, his thumb tracing patterns over your hand, the way he murmurs softly, keeping his words gentle and unobtrusive, as though he’s trying not to startle you.

“I’m right here,” he says again, and this time, you’re able to feel it—his presence, solid and unwavering, cutting through the haze. “I’ll be right here until you’re ready. No rush.”

Bit by bit, you begin to anchor yourself to his words, letting them replace the racing thoughts. The fog clears slowly, your breathing evening out as you match the rhythm of his. Finally, you open your eyes to see him watching you, his gaze soft with worry and relief.

He lets out a small, shaky breath, a hand lifting to gently brush your hair back, his fingers lingering as though to remind you he’s still there.

“You don’t ever have to go through that alone,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with quiet determination. “I’m here, for whatever you need. Always.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The evening had begun with a rare stillness, a gentle calm woven through the golden light filtering into the small clearing you and Halsin had found to spend time together. He was humming as he tended to a fire, casting a glance your way every so often, a warm, gentle smile playing on his lips. But tonight, something felt off in your chest, a faint unease that had begun as a nagging, restless energy, yet had quietly grown until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Without warning, that unease blossomed into something sharper and more consuming. Your thoughts tangled and twisted, each one splintering into two, then four, until your mind felt like a mass of fraying threads. Your breaths became short and shallow, each one catching at the back of your throat. The forest around you blurred, the steady shapes of trees and flowers dissolving into a rush of shadowed green, and Halsin’s humming, usually so soothing, only seemed to crowd your senses further.

“Are you alright?” His voice, deep and familiar, brought you back just enough to make you realize that your hands were trembling. He was watching you with concern, his warm brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

You tried to answer, but your voice caught, nothing more than a thin rasp. Panic welled up, the edges of your vision growing dim as every part of you wanted to escape, to run from this terrible feeling clawing through your chest.

“My heart,” he said, more softly, kneeling beside you, his hand reaching for yours, but stopping just before it touched. “Something’s wrong. Please, just breathe with me.”

It was so Halsin, so typically him to stay calm and grounded. But you could only manage a tight, frantic shake of your head as the feeling kept surging, as if it were swallowing you whole. His face fell, an unusual worry clouding his eyes.

“How can I help? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded softly, his voice straining with his own rising concern.

You could feel his helplessness, the confusion behind his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to tell him it would pass, that you’d be fine, but the words slipped away. The worry on his face only sharpened your own distress, a dull ache forming in your chest.

He leaned back, taking a deep breath as if grounding himself for the both of you. Gently, he moved to sit closer, keeping his posture open, his eyes gentle yet alert.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I’m not leaving.”

The world still felt like it was closing in, but something about his words, his sheer presence, gave you a fragile tether to cling to. You focused on his voice, letting the deep, familiar cadence of it wash over you. Slowly, achingly, your breathing began to match his, pulling in slower, steadier breaths.

“I don’t know what this is like for you,” he continued softly, watching you intently, his voice even as if he didn’t want to disrupt the rhythm you were building. “But I want to understand. I want to help. You don’t have to hide it, not with me.”

You felt the tremor in his words, the sheer sincerity. The weight of them, the softness, eased the tightness in your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence, his warmth beside you, the smell of the earth and pine that always seemed to linger around him.

After a few more breaths, you managed to reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. He stilled, his eyes searching yours, and then his fingers wrapped carefully around yours. The warmth of his hand grounded you, gave you something real to hold onto.

“You’re safe here,” he said gently. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is—there’s no need to run from it. Not with me here. We can face it together.”

The gentle reassurance was enough to anchor you, enough to let the pounding in your chest ebb just a little. You squeezed his hand, and his answering squeeze felt like a lifeline.

Slowly, he guided you, taking steady breaths in time with yours, whispering soft encouragements and gentle reassurances until the world around you began to settle, and the vice in your chest loosened. The rush of sensations gradually dulled, leaving only Halsin’s presence beside you, solid and comforting, his thumb brushing over your hand in gentle, soothing circles.

When you finally managed to meet his gaze, the worry in his eyes had softened into an expression of deep, unyielding care. He reached up with his free hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and grounding.

“I am here for you, always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do… I will.”

With a weak, grateful smile, you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours, and finally, the world felt a little safer, a little more steady, simply because he was by your side.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

oof bit of a heavy one, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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captain039 · 1 year ago

Text

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

#Halsin x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #alpha Halsin #x reader #aob #bg3 #tav

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aethes-bookshelf · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#my writing #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #astarion x tav x halsin #angst #hurt/no comfort #major character death #x reader #gender neutral tav #ambiguous ending

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larsisfrommars · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin silverbough #BG3 fanfic #halsin x tav #halsin x reader #halsin x male reader #halsin x male tav #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #fanfic

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yoonkinii · 1 year ago

Text

We Were Human

Pairing(s): Ascended!AstarionxReader

Part 2:

Synopsis: Astarion died as soon as he became something the world has never seen before. No one noticed the damage before it was too late and the Astarion everyone loved was lost to the new one. No one could notice when the turn was slow and silent. He slowly lost the playful glint in his eyes. Lost the love he gaze upon me with. Lost everything that made him the man I loved. Oh, how I would give anything to get him back. I would gladly give up my damned soul for him.

Aka you are transported back to the past in order to prevent ascended Astarion from losing himself the only problem? You don’t have a lot of time.

Masterlist

Warnings: Gore, blood, cruelty, cursing, death/murder, mentions of using oneself unwillingly, abuse. Its ascended astarion, prepare for the worse.

Note(s): For the sake of the plot- Astarion will not automatically be damned from the start. In this world, Astarion becomes lost to the ascension overtime until he becomes the ascended vampire we know him to be in the game. Another note that should be highlighted is that this story will be told from the first person perspective since it benefits the story more than any other perspective.

You will also notice various things being different from the game. For example, Karlach will be able to stay in the ‘human’ world and she fixed her heart. (I love my girl, I’m not sending her back), Szaars palace has a different layout cause the one in the game was stupid. There will be more that you will notice in the future so beware.

Thank You.

The water was warm against my skin, chasing away the chill that coated my flesh like second skin. After my whole breakdown with Astarion, he had to step out to assist Gale with Wyll. If I was remembering correctly, the city was being rebuilt by everyone still left alive and Wyll had taken on the position of Duke. Everyone in my little team ended up with a high ranking position, each controlling a certain decision when it came to rebuilding the city. Karlach was paired with Damon with rebuilding homes and stores. Shadowheart and Halsin took care of the injured. Lae’zel looked over people working so they don’t fall out of line. Jaheira and Minsc left the city looking for survivors that may have found misfortune. Gale was sort of Wylls advisor, using his vast amount of intellect when Wyll need it. And Astarion was the Lord of Szaars place, an already powerful figure just by title. Even more powerful when the very first ascended vampyre owned it.

Astarion left with Gale, muttering something alone the lines of ‘mortals can’t do anything’ but agreed to help regardless. It was a little strange to be back in the position of the hero of Baldurs Gate and not confined to one room. I can’t help but find myself waiting to wake up, to open my eyes and be greeted with the same dark ceiling. I wait and wait but I never wake up. None of it felt real and I was scared it wasn’t real; that I somehow died in my sleep and was just replaying my memories.

That was an absurd notion. He would never let me die. Not when my life was controlled by him in every aspect.

The door to the bathroom opened gently, a familiar face entering. She paused in front of the now closed door, eyes trained to the floor as she bowed slightly at the waist. Her green wide eyes glanced up at me nervously, orange hair pinned back with some clips.

“Lucinda.” I greeted her with a smile, singling her to come in with a nod.

Lucinda was one of the first servants we ever hired to serve in the palace. She lost her entire family in the final battle and was lost without a loved one or home. She was also the first spawn Astarion made- minus me.

Flashes of tangled limbs, Lucinda’s hair, and his dark gaze watching me flashed in my mind. I couldn’t help but grimace at the memory. I had walked into our shared room without a second thought only to be faced with him bedded with Lucinda. Even in the darkened room, I could see the love filled gaze Lucinda gaze into him while he watched me with a raised brow as if I was the one in the wrong. I sobbed my heart out that day- or my figurative heart out.

Lucinda tried to smile back at me but it looked strained- like her skin wasn’t used to moving like that. That was how she usually was. She was quiet but efficient and half the time she felt like a ghost, silently walking around the palace and doing what was expected of her without a single complaint.

Even as she got closer to me, I didn’t feel any hatred towards her. I knew she was one of his victims, knew that she fell for the false promises and loveless lyrics that danced on his tongue. I also fell for them.

Lucinda wordlessly assisted bathing me, gentle and nimble fingers making sure every part of my body was clean before offering me a towel to dry off. We were both silent even as she fit me into my gown for the evening. She tightened the bodice, pinned my hair up in a crown of braids, and dangled silver jewlery from my ears and neck. I stood before a mirror, eyes slightly widened as I looked back at my reflection. My reflection ws another privilege I had lost from him. It was so simple for him, taking things away from me without a second thought. He could give but he could also take. My throat tightened as I recalled how I was able to stand in the sun and now I could even see my reflection.

My eyes trailed over my gown and I had to admit that Lucinda picked something splendid for today. The maroon dress was made from rich, luxurious fabric that had a subtle sheen to it, adding a touch of opulence to the overall appearance. The bodice of the dress was tailored to perfection, creating a flattering and regal appearance for my body. Intricate silver thread adorned the neckline and cuffs, depicting carefully crafted whirls of life on the fabric.

The neckline of the dress was boat shaped, covering most of my chest but still exposing my collarbones. The sleeves were long and flowy, the cuffs of my sleeves almost creating maroon waves; swishing with every movement of my hands. The skirt of the dress was full and cascaded to the floor and even though it was long, I could still move freely. Just like the neckline and cuffs, the hem of the dress was adorned with the same intricate threading.

My lips were painted with color and my eyes lined with kohl to accentuate my features. Lucinda gingerly placed black heels before me- offering her hand to help me balance as I put on the heels. Once done, I looked at my reflection once, nodding with acceptance.

“Astarion is with Wyll still, correct?”

“Yes, My Lady.” Lucinda replied so softly that if there was any other sort of noise in the room, I would’ve missed her response. “Lord Astarion has not returned from the Dukes.”

“Thank you, Lucinda. I will be heading over there now.”

She nodded her head, bowing at the waist as I turned to leave the bathroom. Exiting the bathroom, I walked down the halls I had been locked away in. I noticed that some decorations were missing- we must have not gotten them yet. The palace was made up of two stories. Upon entering, a grand foyer awaits, featuring double sweeping staircases parallel from each other. The staircases were carpeted with a dark red runner leading to the second floor before continuing down the halls of the second floor. The walls were decorated with various tapestries purchased from various merchants. The double staircases create a sort of entryway to the reception room appointed with fine furniture and gilded fixtures.

After accessing the second floor via that staircase, it branches out left and right. The halls create a sort of square shape, if someone was to walk left and follow down the hall, they would end up at the opposite of the staircase they used to get up. The whole palace had dark wooden floors in every room and dark walls that constantly casted the palace in a permanent shadow, even with the windows open. The halls are lined with a series of private chambers and living quarters. The servants quarters take up most of the left side of the second floor, various rooms provided from them- even if Lucinda is the only current servant. Towards the second floor, in the middle of the two halls, lies Astarions study. An exquisite study with towering bookshelves and the same exquisite furniture that can be found around the house. The back wall of his study, across from the entrance to it, is made out of pure glass. Differing window panes were used to create a floor to ceiling window-wall that showcased the city below.

Our shared bedroom is down the hall from his office. If someone was to exit his study, take a left and walk down the hall until they turned the corner, the first door on the left would lead to our chambers. Upon entering, the canopied bed is pressed against the middle of the wall, black lace curtains offering privacy whenever needed. To the left of the bed, there were doors that lead to a private balcony that was large enough to adorn a small table and two chairs. I usually found Astarion reading there when he had enough free time. There wasn’t much in our room, other than the usual litter of Astarions book collection and a small work desk pressed against the corner of the wall next to the balcony doors. Astarion rarely ever used it, choosing to do his work in his studies. The walls were adorned with artwork but the most notable one was the portrait of not only Astarion and I but everyone in our small little team. All of us were wearing smiles on our faces, even Lae’zel who seemed to have a permanent frown etched onto her skin. That portrait hung above the work desk and there were a few times I had caught Astarion looking at it as he sat at that desk.

I finished climbing down the staircase, heels clicking against the wooden floor that was exposed from the lack of carpet covering it. I exited the palace and was greeted with the same scene I saw the first time I stepped out but less people were out. This wasn’t surprising since the sun was already starting to set. I followed the familiar path to where I knew Astarion would be, weaving and dodging people that were too busy to notice me passing by. A few did notice me, waving and calling out to me. I could only offer a small wave and smile back as I passed down various streets. The city looked almost unrecognizable with all the decimated buildings and death clinging to the air.

Finally reaching the building I was looking for, I opened the doors and was created with a long hallway with many doors lining the walls. It was somehow even busier inside than outside. People were walking to and from between rooms, carrying various things. Some were even running, expertly dodging those that weren’t in such a hurry. Voices merged, creating a muddle of echoes bouncing off the walls. I was only able to catch glimpses of conversation as I walked down the hall to the large wooden double doors at the end of the hall.

“No, no, we can’t use that material because…”

“What are we going to do about the limited space in the cemetery…”

“...funds are not being included when it should be you imbecile…”

Pushing the doors open, the hinges made no sound as I slipped through. Immediately, I was greeted with five males crowding around a large oval shaped table placed in the middle of the room. I only recognized three of them; Gale, Wyll, and Astarion. In my, I guess, other life, I had never stepped foot into this building when Astarion was called upon. I was too busy documenting expenses and checking who needed what in order to rebuild.

Wyll glanced up from where him and everyone else in the room was looking down at the parchment on the table. He smiled, tilting his head to the side- offering me to stand next to Astarion. Taking him up on his offer, I walked to where my husband stood, his back facing me. He didn’t bother looking behind himself to see who entered the room, he probably thought it was a servant coming in with new documents.

Gale spoke up from his position beside Wyll, his hand once again rubbing along his jaw in thought. His eyes flickered to me as I stood across from him next to Astarion. He nodded in regard before continuing with that was being discussed before I walked in,

“They have to be dealt with now before they are able to turn into something worse.”

A simple glance down at the table was all I needed to know what was going on. It was a map of Faerûn, several circles drawn indicating different camps strung out along where the shadow cursed lands were. Well, former shadow cursed lands were at since the land was cured because of Halsin and some of my help.

“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning slightly over the table to catch a batter look at the map. A hand trailed down the small of my back before resting on the right side of my waist. A soft kiss was pressed to my head as Astarion pressed his body against my left side of my own body- like being away from me was hard for him to do.

“Nothing too dreary. Just some Goblin camps that keep sprouting about the shadowed lands.” Astarion replied, sounding like there was nothing to worry about. I could hear the smile he wore on his face as he spoke. Rolling my eyes, a knowing smile took over my face as I crossed my arms, “Yes. Goblins congregating. Nothing serious.”

Wyll cleared his throat, “I know we have to deal with this situation soon but we don’t have any manpower to spare. Not with everything still in shambles. I am only suggesting to hold off until we have more able hands.”

“If we wait any longer, these damn things will already be in the city, wreaking havoc!” a deep and gruff voice cried out. I looked to the owner of the voice, his bright red hair contrasting against his olive toned skin. He was lithe and a little shorter than Astarion. His brown eyes almost feline like as he glared down at the table, his lips curled in a snarl. The manner and tone of his voice did not suit someone who appeared like him but then again, many things in this world didn’t suit it.

“Then what do you suggest, Doran?” Astarion replied, his voice laced with venom as he said Dorans name. Astarion eyed the younger male, raising a brow towards him mockingly.

Doran glowared, mumbling under his breath as he looked away from Astarion, fists clenching at his sides. A deep sigh resulted from the interaction, causing me to look at the final man in the room. He appeared older than the rest of us, graying beard lining his jaw, grayed hair sitting close to his skull, wrinkles from age sagging against his skin. He was shorter than all of us, his bear bell sticking out from under his clothes and thick arms massaged his temples in annoyance. I regarded him with a tilt to my head, wondering who he was and why he was here. I wondered the same thing about Doran but I knew they were meant to be here as well.

I cleared my throat, drawing everyone’s attention towards me. Licking my bottom lip, my gaze met Wylls, “They are right. These Goblins need to be handled immediately.”

Wyll opened his lips to retort but it died in his throat as I raised my hand to continue speaking, “I understand we don’t have the resources for this currently and that is why I am going to be handling this myself.” As I spoke, my mind flashed to what I knew from the future. I can only remember small glimpses of this situation and that’s because when it happened in my true life, I took no part in it.

The goblins were a problem, we didn’t have resources to deal with them and as a solution, Astarion went by himself to handle them. When he came back, he smiled less.

If I am here back in the past with a second chance, I was going to take advantage of it. If this is the first instance where Astarion took a step toward becoming him then I would do something I didn’t do in my time. I was going to go along with him.

“What?” Astarions voice rang out in the room, the hand on my waist tensing. “What do you mean?”

I looked up at him, brows pinching together in thought, “Well, it makes sense” I continued, “We don’t have enough people to spare to send out so why not spare me? I’m sure my skills are equivalent to at least ten soldiers.” I looked over at Wyll, brow raised in question. Wyll was in thought for a few moments, a breath being released from his pursed lips,

“Well-” He drawled, “It’s not a bad idea.”

I clasped my hands together in glee, before anyone could say anything else, “Then it’s settled!”

“Hold on. You must be a lunatic for thinking I am just going to let you go alone.” Astarion argued, his hand gone from my waist and now placed on his hip as he looked at me like I really was a lunatic.

I cooed, stepping closer to him so we were chest to chest, “And you are so cute for thinking I was going to go alone to begin with.” I pinched his cheek teasingly, nose wrinkly in delight, “You’re coming with me.” I said as I walked past him to the exit. A few seconds ticked by before he exploded in curses and whining about getting dirt under his nails.

“Darling, are you sure about this?”

Astarions voice questioned from across the room as he stood in front of a mirror hanging on the wall, fusing over his hair. The room was illuminated by several candles placed on wall mounted holders, the sun had gone an hour ago and casted the world in darkness.

I huffed out a small laugh, combing through my hair as I sat on the edge of the bed, “What do you mean? Of course I am sure. I thought you would jump for joy at the chance of leaving the city.”

Astarion eyes narrowed at me as he finally stepped away from the mirror and made his way towards me. “Me?” He placed his palm against his chest, “Be excited about leaving the city and all the comforts it has to offer. Oh, Yes, I am very excited.” His tone was filled with sarcasm as he sat beside me on the bed, my body bouncing slightly from his sudden weight being applied. He wordlessly grabbed the brush from my hand, gently running it through my locks and running his fingers through it every so often.

A slight pout formed on my lips, “What’s the big problem? You don’t want to spend quality time with me?”

He snorted, something only he would ever do with me, “Love, I would be chained to you if I was able. I just don’t find the whole ‘natures delight’ very appealing after being in it for so long.” I turned to face him, beaming at him with a smile,

“That’s what makes it fun! It will be just like old times, only this time you aren’t holding a knife to my throat.”

He gasped in mock shock, “How dare you bring that up? I needed help against an admirable foe and you told me to handle it myself. I was very hurt.” His chin lowered, accentuating the pout on his lips as he looked at me through his white lashes.

“It was a boar! Not an Illithid. You flat out lied to me.”

“Yes but that is beside the point. I needed help and you didn’t give it to me. I thought you were a kind soul.”

“I am a kind soul. I was just preoccupied with a whole worm in my skull.” I reasoned, refusing to look at him. I can’t lie, I may have come off a little rude when we first met. Sometimes even Shadowheart teases me for it since she just stood by and watched. My hair was pushed behind my shoulder, revealing the skin exposed from the new nightgown I had on. It was simply, just white satin that stopped mid thigh, the straps thin like most of my nightwear.

Soft lips pressed against my bare shoulder and my heart swelled. It was things like this that I missed most of all, the little things he would do to me. How he would reach over towards whenever I was near, the random kisses pressed softly against my skin like a butterflies touch, catching my gaze from across the room only to smile at me, to just be near me.

His lips were then pressed against my cheek before breaking away and going to his side of the bed. The sheets rustled under his movement as he peeled back the bedding and slipped under it. I moved to get under the sheets as well but froze as I turned. It somehow slipped my mind about his sleeping habits and how he used to sleep in only nightwear pants that hung low on his hips. His back was turned towards me as he reached over to place his shirt on a nightstand beside the table.

Silently getting other the covers and laying down, I couldn't help but reach over and have my fingertips graze over the abused flesh. He flinched like I hurt him and I flinched back in return.

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out, keeping my hands close to my chest.

He looked over his shoulder at me, ruby eyes dimly lit against the warm light. His features seemed warmer as well, he almost seemed to be kissed by the sun and not the pale vampire people are used to. I looked away from him, ashamed by my actions as I focused on watching the ceiling. My gaze snapped back to him as his fingers brushed against my cheekbone. He was now on his back, propped up by his forearms,

“It’s okay. You can touch it.”

That was all he said before he turned and exposed his back to me once more. I stared at his back wide eyed, not believing what was happening. Even in my true life, I had never dared to touch his scars. They told a story that I believe he would rather hide and ignore cause they serve as a reminder. Only a few people know about the scars and even then, they never bring it up so I didn’t either.

Shifting closer to him, I was meer inches away from his back as the tips of my fingers gently traced the part of a ritual carved onto his delicate skin. Mysterious word that I could not read regardless of knowing the purpose it served. A few minutes of silence passed as I traced his past with such a gentle touch. I was afraid that touching too hard would break him even when his tormentor was gone, he never really left. He lurked in the shadows of the halls, taunting Astarion. There were a handful of times I could remember Astarion breaking out into a cold sweat from seeing a figure in the corner of his eye, a scent that was too familiar, a phrase being said came from the mouth of a ghost. During those times, Astarion would lock himself away from the world and it was only once that I was able to enter the room and what I had found broke me into a million pieces.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memory to fade away into the recesses of my mind. I sighed through my nose, pressing my forehead to his back as my hand draped around his waist. In an instant, his hand laid atop mine, squeezing it. Perhaps he was imagining a life without the freedom he has obtained, a life where he was never captured by the absolute, a life where he never pressed a knife to my throat, a life where none of this ever happened. Perhaps he imagined all that and squeezed my hand to remember that this was all real.

Perhaps I should’ve said something to him but I didn’t. Not as sleep dug its claws into my skin and pulled me under.

Word Count: 3966

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