#i love how proud of tav looks of herself

[bg3storage]

✿[BARD] [PERFORMANCE] WE CAN DO IT! PUT YOUR BACKS INTO IT! PUSH!✿

[istoleyoursk1n]

How do you think the companions would be with a tiefling gn Reader who's insecure about their horns and tail / just in general being a tiefling? Idm which companions!

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How would they react to a tiefling Tav who's insecure about being a tiefling?

(Little note, I personally love tieflings, I think they're so pretty)

.

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Oh, poor thing, you’re gorgeous! Whoever told you weren’t? My, you’re simply the prettiest little tiefling I’ve ever had the pleasure to see, and trust me, darling, I have seen many.”

Baffled that this would be something you’d be ashamed about. I mean, he’d tell you to your face if you were hideous but he hasn't now has he?

He doesn't quite understand what's there to be insecure about, you look just fine in his eyes but if you need his honest opinion then he’ll give it to you.

He thinks tieflings are fascinating in their own right.

With long curled horns, rigid skin, and a gaze as intense as the fiery pits of hell, you’re not exactly the worst thing he's seen.

He’s not a poet but he’d show you how much he adores every inch of your body to prove just how stunning you are in his eyes.

Damn anyone who says otherwise, he’d reject the heavens in favor of a more hellish embrace that comes in your shape.

He really likes touching your horns/grabbing onto them, he’d never explain why but the texture of them under his cold fingertips is something he pleasantly enjoys.

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“Love, you are above the heavens itself. No angel could compare to the warmth I have found in your every touch. You’re someone I am proud to call my lover, horns and all.”

He gets it, I mean he was turned into some sort of devilish fiend by his wretched patron.

He understands how it could make anyone feel insecure. The horns feel heavy, your skin isn't as smooth as most, and there are cases in which people easily judge you for what you are.

Though, are those reasons to make him love you any less? Absolutely not.

You looked at his transformed self and still chose to love him, so of course he’d do the same for you. In fact, he loves you even more now.

He’d call you beautiful in every way he knows how, concealing each thought of you in words that all come to praise everything that you are and more.

Besides, there's something rather poetic about two devils dancing in the moonlight.

Would compliment every part of your body you feel the most insecure about on a daily basis so that perhaps someday you’d love yourself the same way he loves you.

He’d fall in love with you and those fiery eyes again and again if he could. You hold his heart.

: ̗̀➛GALE

“No magic can compare to the spell you’ve cast upon me. Akin to a moth drawn to a flame, I will gladly fall into your fiery embrace.”

Upset that you view yourself in such a way.

He understands that a bad light is often shed amongst tieflings but he didn't think it would affect you to this degree.

He’s completely in love with every bit of you, he can't bear seeing you hate yourself like this.

If anything, this gives him more of a reason to praise you more, going above and beyond to make you feel like the god/goddess he sees in his eyes.

He’d speak in loving whispers about each and every part of your body so that not an inch of you goes unloved.

He loves staring into your eyes, they dilate and pulse in a way that bewitches him to a point where he’d rather meet your gaze than look up at the stars.

You could describe yourself in the most downright horrendous way possible and he’d still look at you with the most smitten expression you've seen a man hold.

He’ll help you get over your insecurities little by little, doing everything he can to make you see yourself as the specialty you are.

: ̗̀➛KARLACH

“What?! Why would you be? You’re only the greatest thing that's ever happened to me! The hottest thing to come into my life! You’re amazing.”

I mean she gets it, there's a dark stigma around tieflings that she faced herself. For a long while, she was seen as this brutish devil who’d kill children!

But tieflings can be cool, she thinks tieflings can and are badass! There's nothing else like them.

Would constantly reassure you that there's nothing you should be ashamed about, you’re amazing as hell and she loves you for it.

Fuck anyone who tries to slander you for who you are, she’d gladly set them ablaze.

The constant heat she feels on a daily basis is nothing compared to the burning feeling you give her. It makes her go weak at the knees.

Very direct about how much she loves the way you look, it's impossible for anything she says to be a lie.

She’d scream it out loud for the hell of it, making sure all of Faerûn knew how gorgeous you were with all your devilish little features.

She thinks the tail and horns are hot, nothing you say can make her ever think otherwise.

She’ll love you until every part of her body burns into ash in the hopes that by then, you will have learned to love yourself.

: ̗̀➛SHADOWHEART

“Hm. Well, I suppose we all have our own insecurities… if it makes you feel any better, I think… no. I know you’re beautiful. You’re beyond every loving word I could ever use to describe you.”

Surprised by this but she doesn't take it against you. Instead, she’ll find her own little ways of helping you out of your insecurities.

The stigma around tieflings is bad but it is something she herself can relate to with once being a follower of the goddess Shar and the misconceptions that come with it.

Gentle reassurances of your appearance and her love for you would constantly come unprompted.

She’d notice you sadly staring at your horns in a reflection and she wouldn't hesitate to walk up to you and remind you about how pretty they are.

If she sees you scratching and your rigid skin, she’d come up to you and gently take your hand into hers, proudly confessing how much she adores your skin.

She wouldn't bombard you with compliment after compliment but she'd certainly be there if the self-hate gets too much.

She would carefully drag you out of that darkness just as you did for her.

She’d gently drag her fingertips across your horns and every rigid part of your skin, entangling her hand into your tail if not for a simple display of affection.

There's not a single part of you she hasn't come to adore and she’ll make sure that in time, you’ll come to adore those parts of you too.

: ̗̀➛LAE’ZEL

“Insecure? How could someone like you be ‘insecure’? Your mind has no place for such degrading thoughts. You’re better than that.”

She doesn't quite grasp the concept of being ‘insecure’ about something other than it being a sign of weakness hence her confusion at first.

She sees you as a brilliant warrior, someone she deeply admires, how do you find yourself hating anything about yourself?

She sees no reason for your self-loathing and may across as rudely direct such as telling you to simply move past it.

But soon enough she’ll realize how much these ‘insecurities’ of yours may be affecting you and go out of her way to try a different approach.

She’ll start off by saying how being a tiefling doesn't make you any weaker or lower than anybody else, in fact, you are more than worthy of praise and respect.

She believes every part of you is attractive, you’d never have to worry about her ever falling out of love for you.

Besides, aren't tiefling’s fire resistant? That's another thing you should be proud of, some do not have the privilege of being able to withstand strong flames.

It's mostly listing every advantage your body holds against others before ever so subtly squiggling in an actual sweet compliment that she sort of hopes you don't pick up on.

She couldn't have asked for a better partner, you are far better than anything she could have wished for and she wouldn't have you in any other way.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“Nature has built you in the shape of beauty, my heart, every part of you was intended to be loved. Even the prettiest of roses are put to shame in you’re presence.”

He looks more hurt than you by the newly found information.

He believed nature had made all its creatures perfect to every single degree, that includes you.

He could hardly bear hearing you degrade yourself in such a way, not when you’re the most precious thing he's ever laid his eyes upon.

He’d have to sit you down, and allow both of you to discuss your insecurities and where they could have possibly stemmed from.

After which he goes on an entire monologue about how deeply infatuated he is with you and everything that you are, horns and tail included.

If anything, he thinks your horns and tail are adorable. You’re the very peak of beauty in a world filled of glorious things.

He’ll compliment and praise every part of yourself you've come to hate until you’re a speechless, blushing mess.

Try convincing him otherwise and you might as well faint from the amount of sweet little whispers he’d be sending your way.

There is no way he's letting you get away from this without feeling like the most loved thing on this planet.

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[alpydk]

Just some Gale comfort for those who need it.

“You look more radiant today than the shimmering sunlight upon the horizon, my love.”

She shrugged off Gale’s remark. “Washed my hair…”

“And it shines with a glow worthy of the Weave itself.”

“Hm.”

Tav was having a bad day. Not the first and certainly not the last. One where the clouds smothered the sun that little more, where clothes did not fit as she wanted, where tasks seemed to have piled up, never to be completed, her to do list only growing longer.

“New perfume?”

His words were becoming like knives, razor thin cuts invisible to his dark eyes. Each one another reminder of her inadequacies. Normally they wouldn’t be a bother. He was a romantic after all and declarations of love and worship were one of the many ways he had wooed her heart, and yet today she struggled to smile and accept them, struggled to let them go like water off a duck’s back.

“Soap.” Tav knew it wasn’t attractive, wasn’t charming or ladylike. She was being difficult, but today was a day of difficulty; no patience for romance or falsities like the ones he placed on her.

Gale had picked up on the mood hours ago, from the moment she had abandoned her kaeth within the living room to fold a dozen sheets before leaving them to read half a newspaper article. He could have avoided her. Instead, he followed behind, silently folding the sheets she’d left, quietly marking the page of the paper for when she came back to it. Kaeth could wait until she’d grown too exhausted to be distracted.

He watched as she arranged books in the library, a task she had forgotten a few days before. “You’re doing a fine job in here.”

She bit her tongue, another compliment getting under her skin. “Gale…” Tav’s voice came out a little too sharp, and she sighed before speaking again, this time more patiently. “Gale, could you, maybe, give me some space? Please.”

He knew the words were getting to her, knew he was close to her finally sitting down and releasing all the emotions she insisted on bottling up. Tav who was so strong and fearless, Tav who would never show emotions or be cared for, Tav who refused vulnerability as if it were a disease. He also knew that today was one of those days where she needed the words the most, when her self-esteem was at its lowest, when she needed his voice to guide her from the darkness she found herself in.

“Certainly, my dear.” He stood at the doorway, a smile on his lips. “I’m proud of you.”

“Stop it…”

“Stop what?”

“You know exactly what. Saying those things.”

“That I’m proud of you? But it is merely a truth that must be acknowledged.”

An emotion caught in her throat. A mixture of anger and disbelief, not at him, but at herself. How could anyone be proud of her? She who couldn’t even drink her kaeth some days without flitting to another half-finished task? “There is nothing to be proud of.”

Gale sighed. “But there is, my love. I’m proud of your strength, not in your ability to lift a sword or go toe to toe in the hells, but in your strength to each day rise and defeat your own inner demons. Whether it be to only wash those sunlit locks of yours, or to half complete a multitude of tasks, leaving chaos in your wake. You do something. You face those demons, and you keep going. And for that, I am proud of you, even if you do fail to believe my words.”

He left her in the library, another distraction now placed in her mind in the form of him, but this was a distraction she was much more willing to accept. Maybe he could be moved to the top of her list. If she could remember where she had left it.

[lostinforestbound]

Absolutely no one asked for this but I really needed to get these out of my system, so today I present to all of you, my:

General Lia and Cal Headcannons

Please please please share if you have random headcannons about these two! I would love to hear them! I also may make a Part 2 to this because I think about them a lot.

Lia

Lia is a very sappy drunk. When she drinks too much she'll be very emotional and teary eyed. She'll actively tell Cal and Rolan how much she loves them. Cal is very used to it, but it throws Rolan off every time.

She absolutely loves animals! If Tav doesn't beat her to it, she would absolutely take every stray cat in Baldur's Gate and keep them, much to Rolan's dismay. If he put his foot down about them not staying in the tower, she would at least go out and feed them when she has time.

When she was very young, despite odds of her losing, she would've absolutely stood up for both Rolan and Cal when they got bullied. Not just standing up for them, she would genuinely beat the shit out of anyone who dared to hurt them.

Their mother would chastise her for it at first, but eventually, she would've taught little Lia how to properly defend herself in case it happened again. She would also tell her how proud she is.

In their dynamic, Lia usually is hunting or foraging food for them if they run out on the road. She's fantastic with a bow, so she successfully hunts down rabbits, squirrels, and pick up safe berries. She has a little booklet with her that tells her which are poisonous or not.

I think she would be genuinely fascinated by druids, but the Grove incident would've put a very sour taste in her mouth. She'll probably revisit the topic in the future, but definitely not soon.

She loves doing arts and crafts of sorts! It absolutely her favorite past time outside of training or shooting her bow, such as shaping clay or building small trinkets out of wood. She also really likes puzzles, and would spend some quiet time by herself solving them no matter how long it takes her.

Lia can be forgetful of dates. She often forgets Rolan's birthday, Cal's, and sometimes even her own. The only date she remembers clearly is the day of their mom's death. When it happened it destroyed her, same with Cal. Rolan helped picked up the pieces, and she didn't realize until much later he didn't even get the chance to grieve properly.

She doesn't like fighting with Rolan, she really doesn't, but sometimes she feels as though he lacks empathy. That he should care about other people more, not just themselves. This has caused the start of many fights, much to Cal's misery. Sometimes she would go as far as calling him selfish.

She won't admit it out loud except when drunk, but she's inspired by Rolan. Not as much as Cal maybe, but his ambition and seeing his determination left a huge impression on her. It's partially why she's still so headstrong.

Cal

Cal is a talented cook! When he was old enough to do so, he took over Rolan's kitchen role when they were still young. While many mishaps happened in the kitchen due to some clumsiness, he made fantastic dishes with what they had. They didn't look pretty, but tasted amazing.

Cal, without fail, always remembers Rolan's birthday. Rolan has mentioned the date once in passing, and he never forgot it. He always gets a gift for him, whether something he bought with his own money or something handmade.

Their mother was usually the one who got Rolan gifts, including a small cake. After she passed away, he was determined to still get Rolan something. Anything.

That is the first time Cal ever baked a cake. It was an absolute mess; flour everywhere, some batter on the ground, and some icing on his face. The cake, in all honesty, looked awful. But Rolan insists it was the best cake Cal has ever made for him. Rolan cried later that night because he's never felt so appreciated.

He had no money as he was too young, so this would also be the first time he's ever stolen something. There was an higher class noble talking down to a commoner one day, so he took the opportunity and snatched one of the books in their stack when they weren't looking. That was Rolan's first ever magic book; he still has it with him always.

As their mother was a seamstress, Cal also picked up sewing. His other job within their sibling dynamic is clothing repairs, but mostly for himself and Lia. Rolan insists he can fix his robe by himself with a simple mending spell.

Cal is a very giggly drunk, though I don't believe he drinks that often in the first place. Only on special occasions such as the Tiefling party. If he drinks a little too much, he'll get real sleepy and end up passing out somewhere quiet.

When he was younger, any time he would cry after having a nightmare, he would go straight to Rolan. His big brother always held him close and put on a light show, no matter the time of night. Sometimes he goes to him and lies about the nightmare, just to see the magic show. It helps him go to sleep.

Cal looks up to Rolan more than Lia, though he loves Lia just as much. He sees Rolan as an inspiration, even when he can't do magic himself. He never fails to remind him that he's family and that he'll always love him.

I don't believe Cal is a crybaby, but he's definitely more prone to crying than the other two. He feels his emotions very strongly and aggressively. He's not afraid of crying either, he thinks it's very healthy to let yourself weep once in a while, even if there's no good reason for it. He honestly wishes Lia and Rolan would cry more; maybe then they won't explode at each other so often.

[fangsandfracturedhearts]

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 21: Preparations

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

Astarion weaves Illyria through the streets with her hand in his. He keeps a close eye on her but is rather proud to see his beloved is starting to become a tad more comfortable around the living. She does not squeeze his hand with quite the same ferocity or tug on his clothes at the sound of beating hearts nearby.

He leads her to the Wide, an area in the upper city where merchants set up their stalls to peddle their wares to the patriars and nobles that call the Upper City home. The first stop is a jeweller’s stall, the same one from which he commissioned her ring. She eyes the selection while he chats with the jeweller, who shows him various pieces. He holds up a pair of earrings with large sapphires.

“You know your ears are not pierced, right?” She teases him with an arched brow.

“Perhaps I will get them pierced just so I can wear them. They are quite fetching,” he taunts her back with a wry grin. “Not for me, little love. Do you like them?”

She lets her fingers run over the stones, which are perfectly polished and sparkling. “They are pretty, but they look… expensive.”

“We’ll take them,” Astarion says, handing them back to the jeweller to place in a box. He returns his attention back to Illyria, who looks rather uncomfortable, though he cannot fathom why. “Love? Is something troubling you?”

“Oh, no. Not really.” She looks askance, her splintered, crimson eyes darting away from him. “I’m—” she trails off, shaking her head, and corrects herself. “You don’t have to buy me things. You know that, right?”

“Have to?” Astarion’s brow arches.

He reaches for their bond, and she lets him access most of her mind freely, but there is something she keeps blocked and hidden, like running into an invisible barrier. It rankles him slightly. He should be granted full access to her mind, no? They are to be married, after all, and now she decides to hide things from him? Astarion takes a deep breath and tries to let it go. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that she’s keeping some things under lock and key after his most recent episode.

Astarion worries that she’s not as okay as she says. There have been times when he’s reached out to her, and she’s reflexively jumped back or grimaced as if she expects pain to follow. Every time is like a barb to his heart. He deserves it; he knows this, but it does not stop it from hurting him nonetheless. She refuses to discuss it, preferring instead to continue reaffirming that she is fine.

But how could she be? He, her husband, her lover, who is supposed to protect her, held her down and carved something into her flesh, and he’s not even sure what. The other version of him might know, but all he can work out is that the symbols are not random and they are not infernal. Astarion is glad he cannot remember it, but he feels guilty for that gladness. If he had to live with the memory of hurting her like that… Gods. He does not know if he would be capable of it.

It makes him feel weak.

“Illyria,” he says, lowering his timbre to something meant to reassure and soothe. “I want to. I want to give you everything.”

She smiles at him, closed-lipped so as not to show her fangs. She places a hand on his chest, patting him gently. “As long as I have you, I already have everything. You are enough.”

Astarion’s heart swells. He is enough. These are not words he ever thought he would hear. “Thank you. But you will indulge your husband in his wishes to buy you gifts, won’t you?”

She sighs with a small chuckle. “I will indulge my husband in whatever makes him happy.”

“Splendid. Nothing would make me happier.” Astarion smiles, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Now, get over here and pick out my ring, will you?”

He’s already commissioned her wedding band. Wedding. Married. Gods. A notion that once filled him with dread. He cannot remember if the mortal man he was ever had any aspirations of marriage, but he is certain that in the last two centuries, he’d never pictured it would happen to him. He dismissed the idea as another dream stolen by Cazador and undeath.

So many years spent in the boudoir, an endless parade of warm bodies, and the resignation that he would spend eternity alone. Until she came long and breathed new life into his inert heart. She made it remember how to feel, taught it how to love, and then restored its beat.

“You want me to pick it out?” Illyria glances at the display. “Are you sure? You can be very fussy.”

“Fussy, am I?” He crosses his arms and feigns irritation, although he cannot wipe the smug smirk off his lips. “Darling, I can make anything look good. I’m positive whatever you pick will be perfect.”

She nods and starts pursuing the various styles of rings staged and offered. He steps behind her, watching over her shoulder as she pursues. He lets his body press into her back slightly, carefully, to see if she will jolt away from him like she does sometimes, but instead she presses her ass into him further and undulates her hips against him.

He’s pleasantly surprised, allowing her to continue until he can feel himself hardening, and then his hands slip down to halt her. He would love to bend her over this stall, vendors and patriars be damned. She catches his thoughts and shoots him a heated look over her shoulder that almost looks like a challenge.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I might just do it,” he projects into her mind. “To Hells with them all.”

She doesn’t miss a beat, asking the jeweller to show her something more unique and answering him back at the same time. “You want all these people to see me come?”

He snorts, answering back with an immediate. “No!”

“I didn’t think so.”

Illyria turns around. “Try this one on, will you?”

Astarion is pleasantly surprised when she holds him an obsidian-coloured band with a fire-opal inlay that glitters underneath an intricate pattern etched into the center of the ring. He slips it on, eyeing the ring now wrapped around his finger. The cool metal feels strange between his fingers, but also right, as most things do when it comes to her.

“I like that one. What do you think?”

“I… I love it,” he glances back at her with soft eyes to let her know that his sentiment is genuine.

Illyria smiles carefully and returns to speaking to the jeweller about alterations, with her main focus on engravings. Astarion loses himself in thought while she speaks, and his fingers smooth over the metal. What will he do if they cannot complete their objective in the Hells? Is marrying her truly fair to her? Is he dooming her by tying her to him in this way? If he cannot be saved, he will have to force her to get away from him before he loses his sanity entirely.

“Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Syolkiir, salen thiramin,” Illyria recites what she wishes be engraved into the inside of the band.

His mind translates his mother tongue into common. “You hold my heart forever, Wild Star, my soulmate.”

Thiramin. Not even merely a soulmate. Not for Elves, at least. A thiramin is someone you are intertwined spiritually with. It’s a love that’s prewritten into the stars and promises eternal devotion. Though it’s not often unrequited, when it is, it’s disastrous. Elves often go mad, ending their lives if they lose their thiramin.

Astarion is too stunned to speak as he takes the wrapped earring box, and they walk away from the little stall. He did not even hear when the jeweller estimated the ring would be done and ready to pick up.

“You don’t have to say it back, Astarion,” Illyria whispers, interlocking her fingers with his. “You don’t even have to feel it back. It won’t change anything.”

He swallows hard. “When did you know?”

“Before the tadpole linked our brains together,” she admits casually.

“I felt it too,” he confesses. “… I feel it too.”

She gives his hand a squeeze, looking at him with concerned eyes, and he shakes his head to dispel his whorling thoughts. Thiramin. Gods. He stands to lose so much; they stand to lose so much. It’s a terrifying prospect.

“There’s one more stop we have to make,” he says, finally coming back to himself. Shoving the panic and fear somewhere deep. He can worry later. Right now should be a happy time for them. “Are you alright, or would you like to go home and have a snack?”

“You’re a very generous juice box, Astarion,” she taunts, trying to lighten his mood.

“I am feeling rather gracious today, thiramin,” he teases back, watching her eyes light up at the word, and the affection she feels spreads through him like sunshine through his veins. “Is that a yes?”

She smirks. “How could I say no?”

Astarion removes his chemise as soon as they enter the manor and ascend the stairs to their room. His consort, no, wife, he reminds himself, is typically good at not spilling as long as she’s not ravenous, but blood hardly ever comes out of white, so it's better to be safe. He throws the shift over the back of the lounge in their room and sits on the bed with his back pressed against the headboard.

He grabs her hips as she crawls up on him and settles in his lap. She places her hands on his shoulders, and a shiver runs down his spine. “Gods. You’re cold.”

“I’m dead, genius,” she laughs lightheartedly.

It makes him smile, but it also sends a shock of remorse through him in equal measure. Where this used to be a sore topic for her, she seems content with the fact that he killed her. Astarion cannot say he regrets doing it, because that would be a heinous untruth, but it does not stop him from feeling a little bad. Even if she did give him permission to do it, he hadn’t exactly given her much of a choice in the matter. It was either be turned or end the relationship, and he was pretty sure she loved him too much to do that.

Which means he really didn’t give her much of a choice at all.

“I’m sorry I did not give you much of a choice,” he says, though it pains him to do so. Sorry is not something he is particularly good at saying. “I look back on it, and I am ashamed of the way I acted.”

She cups his face tenderly with a small smile. “I wanted this, Astarion. We talked about this when you were a spawn, and we had no idea what would come of the Rite.”

“I could have at least given you the choice to wait until you were sure you were ready,” he laments. “As it stands, I did not."

She sighs. “You could have, but my choice would have been the same regardless. I’ve only ever regretted becoming a spawn—“

“Bride,” he corrects quickly. “Spawn is an ugly word.”

“Fine. Bride,” she acquiesces. “I only ever regretted it when you weren’t you. If the Rite had no consequences, I would never have looked back, and I don’t look back on it now. I am fine with what I am. Plus, it’s a little amusing to be the one making you cold now.”

“Cheeky,” he tuts, clicking his tongue. “You do not make me cold. I can just cool my body temperature down on a whim.”

“Bragging, are we? Confidence looks good on you,” Illyria giggles, running her fingers through his hair. “You are magnificent, Ascendant. I will concede that much.”

“Feed, little love,” Astarion instructs, offering his neck. “Or we will be late.”

Illyria rains kisses down his neck, earning her a whine from him. The tingle runs straight to his cock, and he grinds into her involuntarily. Her fangs find their mark, popping through his skin with an icy pinch that dulls quickly into a rather arousing ache. He glances at the window, trying to judge if he has enough time to take her before they must go. To his great disappointment, there is not enough time to make love to her properly.

Even though they’ve decided on having a small affair, there is still some planning that needs to be done, and Astarion does not have a lot of experience in this sort of thing. Where does she want to get married? Certainly not a church. Perhaps the villa where he proposed to her? He purchased the property some time ago on a whim. Who can they get to marry them? Should he invite her friends? He knows she said just them, but is that truly what she wants? Elven marriage ceremonies typically go on for weeks with poetry recitations, musical performances, and a host of other theatrical events.

Is she embarrassed by him? Scared he will lose himself and hurt or kill them at their wedding? If this is what being nervous feels like, he fucking hates it.

She unlatches from him rather abruptly. “Hells, Astarion. You know you can simply ask me these questions, yes? The villa would be perfect. As for who, we can just hire someone. It matters not who officiates as long as, by the end of it, we are married, and not in this weird vampiric way. Our friends, not mine, ours,” she accentuates. “Can come to the great soiree I am sure you will throw as soon as we return. It is not because I am embarrassed or I think you might kill them.”

She pauses for a second, contemplating how to word whatever is coming next. “I want it to be you and me, because that’s how we are going to spend the majority of our lives. Our friends will grow old and die. It is just a fact. Once they are all gone, it’s just us. There might be other friends along the way, and they too will die. In the end, it will always be us for eternity. That is the reason I want it this way.”

Astarion smiles, thumbing some blood away from the corner of her lips and popping it in his mouth before kissing her with an ardent passion. He coaxes her lips to part and tastes himself on her tongue. “As you wish, little love, so shall it be,” he breathes. “What about your parents? Would you like them there or to at least let them know you’re getting married to a very handsome, powerful, and influential lord?”

She giggles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’ve never discussed my parents, have we?”

It's true. Despite spending all this time together, they’ve rarely spoken of her past. When he was attempting to seduce her, he did ask her the typical insipid questions one would ask to appear genuinely interested in a person. They were always met with an offhanded comment or her using her silver tongue to cleverly switch topics so seamlessly he did not realize she was avoiding the questions.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “We have not discussed much of your past before the nautiloid.”

“I’m an orphan,” she finally says, her gaze dropping to her hands pressed against his stomach as if using him to bolster herself. “I don’t have any parents to invite or inform.”

“I’m sorry,” Astarion coos, taking her hands in his. “I did not know.”

“You couldn't have known,” she shrugs. “I didn’t tell you. My childhood was not… good. It’s not something I like to think or talk about. Truthfully, if I thought you would, I might request you compel me to forget it entirely.”

Alarm bells go off in Astarion's head. She would request that he compel her to forget large parts of her life? He could. He could do that for her, but it would be to her detriment. He sincerely hopes she never asks him for this, because he would find it difficult to say no. If only because he would do anything for her.

“I would not do it even if you asked,” he lies. He would do it if she begged him to, because he can deny her nothing. “Your past made you who you are, and I love who you are. I will not pry, but I do hope you will tell me more someday.”

“Thank you for not prying.” She leans down and licks the last bits of blood off his neck. Astarion’s wounds are already healed over to pristine ivory skin.

“Now that you have had your snack, we really must be going.”

“Where are we going that you’re in such a rush to get to?” She arches a brow at him.

“You’ll see, little love. Indulge me once more for today.”

The Lower City is much busier than the Upper City, and it makes sense to you now why Astarion offered to stop and give you a snack before heading down this way. He seems to know exactly where he’s going, pushing through the crowds with purposeful steps, but you decidedly don’t. You allow him to drag you along through the torrent of bodies that are brimming with blood.

Astarion opens the door of a shop for you, bows shallowly with a sly grin, and ushers you inside. “After you, my love.”

You arch an inquisitive brow at him, but enter the shop as instructed. The outside appeared rather nondescript. A small, worn sign was all that indicated it was a shop at all. It didn’t strike you as somewhere Astarion would frequent. Once you get inside, the space opens up to an opulent foyer that is empty except for the two of you and, to your great surprise, Shadowheart.

She comes up to you slowly with a guileful grin. “Fancy seeing you here.”

When you look at her, all you see is her blanched, chalky complexion, the only colour afforded to her by her own blood smeared and leaking from her neck. You can hear her pleas gurgling in her throat, feel her hands raking across your skin, and feel her tugging on your clothes. You grimace, remembering the sweet succour of her blood circulating through your veins, easing the coils in your stomach and the webs of confusion in your brain. Without realizing it, you start taking steps backward, away from her as she nears, and jolt when your back bumps into Astarion. His arm wraps around your chest in an almost protective gesture, while his other hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Shadowheart,” he says formally. “I see you got my summons. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.”

“Summons?” She snorts, crossing her arms. “Am I even able to counter that haughty attitude anymore, Astarion? Or will you go lose your mind and kill us all?”

Astarion doesn’t show it, but there is a sting that prickles through the bond as her barbed words settle. You nearly scold her, but he’s quick to riposte her cheek. “Darling, don’t be silly. I would be more than happy to kill you. I needn’t lose my mind for that.”

Shadowheart laughs jovially, and Astarion’s grin is crooked and boyish.

“It’s good to see you, Astarion.” Shadowheart says warmly.

“And you,” he replies coolly.

Your brows pinch as you look between them. Have you slipped into some alternate dimension where they actually seem like friends, or is it you who’s losing your fucking mind?

“And it’s good to see you, Illyria.” Shadowheart smiles. “You look much cleaner than when I saw you last,” she teases.

“Shadowheart,” your voice comes out in an uneven croak. “I… Gods. I don’t know what to say. I…”

She waves her hand flippantly, as if almost draining her dry is so minor that it’s not even worth your apologies. “I did offer to help, though next time, could you perhaps waste a little less?”

Hells below. You don’t know if your body wants to pale or flush. Thankfully, it’s incapable of both.

Astarion waves over a woman, who you didn’t even realize was waiting in the wings of the establishment. “Expense my account for whatever she decides on, Lorne, and do not tell her the cost,” he instructs while giving you a small shake. You grumble under your breath at him in a slurry of elven curses that makes him chuckle.

“As you wish, Lord Ancunín.” Lorne replies tonelessly, shrinking back to wait for you.

He presses a kiss on the top of your head. “Have fun, my sweet. You know how to reach me when you’ve finished up.”

You whirl quickly, grabbing his arm before he can leave, panicked. “You’re not staying?”

“No, but I will remain close by. You need not worry.” The rest of his message is in your head. “About the sun. You’re safe. I will keep you safe. Always.”

It’s not the threat of your sun protection that has you terror-stricken. It’s being in the presence of two living people without him around to stop you should your restraint fail again.

“Compel me,” you say, but make sure it’s loud enough that Shadowheart hears it. You want her to know that you’ve asked for this before she gets any bright ideas about scolding him. “Compel me not to drink the blood of thinking creatures.”

Astarion’s eyes widen, his smile failing as he processes your request. His discomfort is noticeable in the tense set of his shoulders. “I would really rather not.”

“Astarion,” you grab his coat, tugging on it slightly. “You know I can’t be trusted with them, but I trust you. Please.”

He sighs, shaking his head slightly, but you feel the order come through in your head as clear as day, but he adds another in. “You do not feel hungry. You will not feed on the blood of thinking creatures.”

Relief.

Relief from that unrelenting itch in your throat and the ache in your stomach as soon as the order is passed. It’s been so long since you haven’t felt hungry that it feels strange. Why haven’t you been asking him to do this the whole time? Because it makes him uncomfortable, you remind yourself, and you quickly feel sick for making him do something he told you he didn’t want to do.

Astarion nods, though the look on his face is rather grim, and he kisses your forehead and walks out without another word.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Shadowheart says. “Gods. Why didn’t you tell me he asked you to marry him? I’m so happy for you!”

Her genuine mirth is a surprise. A welcome one, but a surprise nonetheless. “I… You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Shadowheart smirks. “I do wholeheartedly believe you could do better, but alas, you were always sickeningly in love with him. The way you two used to eye-fuck each other in camp. Gods.” She makes a dramatic expression of disgust, pretending to shudder. “You could have been more subtle about it.”

It’s the first time you’ve been able to be around her without wanting to eat her in a long while, and you rush up to her quickly, but stop short when you realize she might not want to get this close to you. She scoffs and closes the gap, wrapping her arms around you.

“Gods. You’re as cold as you are pale,” she laments mockingly. “Come on. Let’s find you an atrociously expensive dress, shall we?”

The woman fitting your dress seems unconcerned that you have no reflection. Did Astarion compel her to completely miss that? Likely. The woman brings in dress after dress, which Shadowheart helps you into because you don’t want Lorne to see the scars on your back. Every dress is beautiful, you suppose, but nothing you would actually wear.

As Shadowheart undoes claps and places pins in yet another one, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me, Illyria?”

You sigh. “I should have. It just seemed like a bad time to say something. At best, I was worried you might try to talk me out of it. At worst, I thought you might go down there and try to stake him.”

“That’s surprisingly accurate, actually,” she laughs, standing and turning you around.

You’re letting Shadowheart be your eyes for this. Her brows pinch, and she rotates a finger to make you spin, but it only makes her nose wrinkle up worse.

“I take that expression as a no.”

“Definitely not,” Shadowheart snorts. “That woman is bringing up the worst of the worst. I am sure of it. I’m going to go back there and pick some for you, okay?”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart winks. “I have my ways.”

She disappears while you snicker and ease out of the bulky fabric. You stare into the empty mirrors, letting your fingers crawl over the surface. If there was one time you wanted to be able to see yourself, it’s now, but you will never see your reflection again. You couldn’t possibly have understood it at the time — the sorrow and anger he felt, the mourning of his reflection — but you understand it now.

You understand him now.

Shadowheart steps in with an armful of dresses she’s procured. Lorne squalls in the background, scolding Shadowheart, saying that this is extremely unorthodox.

Shadowheart waves her out of the room with a grin, and she giggles hysterically. “I hope she complains to Astarion.”

Shadowheart helps you slip into a few more dresses, which are vastly better than the ones Lorne was bringing, but it’s not until you slip into the last dress that you think you feel something other than a desperate need to get back to Astarion.

The gown defies the boundaries between clothing and art. The champagne-coloured bodice shimmers with a constellation of the finest diamonds. Each stone sparkles like a thousand stars, casting your form in an ethereal light. The neckline plunges temptingly low, giving you a generous allure.

As the bodice meets the hip-hugging skirt, a cascade of lace descends in a mesmerizing train, as if a waterfall of gossamer had been captured in time. The pattern of the lace is reminiscent of swirling firestorms, and the edges are adorned with a delicate trim of moonstones that appear to glow as if imbued with silvery moonlight.

“I think I like this one,” you say, but glance up at Shadowheart.

Shadowheart’s eyes look wet. “You look otherworldly, Illyria. It’s perfect.”

Shadowheart helps you out of the dress, and Lorne comes to collect it, her face still screwing up into a scowl when she looks at Shadowheart, who smiles politely at her.

Before you can leave the dressing room, Shadowheart stops you and asks tentatively. “Do you think marrying him is a good idea?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a good idea or not. I’ve dreamt of it since I met him. Even in his darkest hours, I could never bring myself to stop loving him, and I tried, Shadowheart. I tried to let him go, begged for love to turn into hate, but he’s far too tangled in my soul. For better or worse, I love him, and this is what I want.”

Shadowheart squeezes your shoulder. “As long as you’re happy, I support you. Always. But I think you need to be careful. Astarion will always do what it takes to survive.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As with most fic writers, I am a WHORE for comments. We appreciate even just an emoji. Please feed your fic writers the sustenance of comments 🥰

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Sorry I've been MIA guys. Life has gotten in the way, and my writing time has been significantly cut down recently. I'm hoping that it will recover, but it might be another month or so of spotty and shorter updates. Also, when patch 7 releases, you know I am DIVING head first into it

[moonselune]

Spoiler for Shadowheart’s Quest ‘!

Could you write a little something where Shadowheart instead of asking us to be official after the Shar Trials she’s doubting herself even more to be good enough for Tav so she is turning away from us? A little hurt/comfort? I miss her 🥹💕

I just wanna wrap her up in a blanket give her a smooch and a glass of wine xoxo

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart x reader | Doubt creeps in

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The atmosphere in the shadow cursed lands was oppressive, the air thick with a palpable tension. The trials of Shar had been grueling, pushing both you and Shadowheart to your limits. But as you emerged from the depths of the Gauntlet, you felt a sense of relief and triumph. But Shadowheart's demeanor had changed; she seemed distant, her eyes clouded with doubt and uncertainty.

When Shadowheart collapsed in pain from her lashing from Shar you caught her and held her close. When she awoke she abruptly pushed you away, as if you were electric to the touch. You didn't let it get to you though, you saw what she had just been through.

As you made your way back to camp, you noticed how Shadowheart kept to herself, even more so, her usual overconfident demeanour replaced by a cold detachment. Concern gnawed at you, and you held off as long as you could, trying to give her the space she needed, but when you noticed she had actually started avoiding you, you decided it was time to confront her. You found her standing by the edge of the camp, staring aimlessly into the darkness.

"Shadowheart," you called softly, approaching her. She didn't turn to face you, but you saw her shoulders tense.

"I need to be alone," she replied, her voice strained.

Ignoring her request, you moved closer until you were standing beside her. "Something's bothering you. Talk to me."

She let out a heavy sigh, finally turning to look at you. Her eyes were filled with a storm of emotions—fear, doubt, and something else you couldn't quite place. They were red and puffy, indicating she had just been crying.

"I'm not good enough for you," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "After everything…after what I've done, what I've been through…I don't.. I don't.. deserve you."

The weight of her words hit you hard. You reached out, but she flinched away from you. Your heart broke but you persisted, you much like someone trying to aid a wounded animal, you weren't afraid to get hurt.

Despite her resistance you managed to gently cup her face in your hands, making her look at you. "Shadowheart, don't say that. You've been through so much, and yet you're still here, fighting, trying to do what's right. That makes you stronger than you realize."

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes, and she clawed at your hands weakly, a half attempt to push you away. "You don't understand. I've done terrible things. I was ready to kill, to betray… How can someone like me be worthy of your love?"

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings and you could feel your own tears welling up in your eyes.

"Shadowheart, we all have our demons. We all have things we're not proud of. But it's how we choose to move forward that defines us. You've shown time and again that you're capable of great kindness and bravery. You've saved me more times than I can count. You are worthy of love—my love."

Her tears began to fall freely again and she looked at you with a mixture of hope and disbelief. "But what if I falter again? What if I make the wrong choices?"

You brushed a tear from her cheek with your thumb, your heart aching at the sight of her vulnerability, and you had to pull yourself together, for her. "Then we'll face it together. You're not alone in this, Shadowheart. I'm here, and I always will be. I love you, regardless of your past or your mistakes. I love you for who you are, right now, in this moment."

A sob escaped her lips, and she collapsed into your arms, clinging to you as if you were her lifeline. You held her tightly, your own tears starting to fall now. "We'll get through this," you murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Together."

For a long while, you stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace. Slowly, the tension in her body eased, and she looked up at you with a newfound determination in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. "I don't deserve you, but I'll do my best to be worthy of your love."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I'll do my best to show you every day just how much you mean to me."

Shadowheart's lips curved into a small, tentative smile. "I love you," she said softly, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and hope.

"I love you too," you replied, leaning in, kissing gently.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Oh babygirl Shadowheart I love you, hope you all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xoxox

[eliteseven]

Not the same anon but I would also love jealous Shadowheart HCs. A one shot would be amazing if you can but no pressure!

Lolllll

Jealous Shadowheart HC's, by Popular Demand (3 ppl).

I've long said this, but Shadowheart doesn't do jealousy. I think she's never had to. She grew up in the cloister- we know she mentioned having secret trysts or flings or w/e, but no serious relationships. She thought she was training to be a weapon, really. So...relationships- monogamy- I don't know if it ever crossed her mind? Probably not her scene.

Also, while I love her confidence, "I know I'm beautiful, but it's nice of you to say" etc. I think she's accustomed to suitors bending over backwards for her, but a lot of the time it was superficial- none of them knew her, it was purely physical.

All this to say: she's never had the inclination of being possessive of anyone, until...Tav.

Tav comes along with her stupidly tender touches and that look she gives Shadowheart, like she's the most resplendent being she's ever met. Shadowheart realizes she wants that all to herself forever. But Tav loves everything about her- her temper, her less than composed moments. For the first time in her life, Shadowheart's in love 💕

Shadowheart isn't oblivious- Tav is beautiful, she's going to get her fair share of attention. Tav's a people person, and she has a background in nobility- which meant a lot of schmoozing and cajoling. She has a way of enticing people- but unlike Shadowheart, she's never really weaponized it. She isn't really aware of how she draws people in (which pisses Shart off lol)

Most of the time, Shadowheart is content to let it happen. But for those lingering gazes on Tav? The way the barmaid touches her arm when she leans over suggestively to serve her? Nah Shadowheart is not standing for it! She will tilt Tav's chin and kiss her senseless in front of the entire tavern. If there are bedrooms (or perhaps even a hidden corner) Shadowheart is making use of them immediately.

Maybe it's a little residual Sharran domme energy in her, but Shadowheart expresses her discontent in the bedroom by marking Tav up. The camp pretends not to notice Tav's neck the next morning. (Tav fully encourages this behavior 😅)

The one subject that riles Shadowheart up every time: Tav's past in Cormyr. I won't mince words- Tav was a noble, pent up in her estate with stuffy rules, dying to live, bound for an arranged marriage she wanted no part of.... When Tav gets to Cormyr, she has a time. 👀 She might not be as experienced as Shadowheart, but she's certainly picked up a thing or ten in the near decade she was there.

If Tav has a "close friend" from her past in Cormyr that she references fondly every once in a while, whew...Shadowheart can't help but imagine who might have had her Tav wrapped around their finger.

Now, IF Shadowheart were to ever meet this friend, say she made it to the cottage for some ungodly reason:

Shart would obviously try to play it cool (She's too proud to admit she's jealous outright). Instead, she's draping herself across Tav, sitting on her lap, stealing kisses. She's generally very kind hearted now, but idk I can see her reverting back to her old ways for a bit. She’s definitely making some of those famous biting comments.

Tav tries to defuse it and keep her even keeled but sometimes it's so hard bc Shadowheart is pettyyyyy 😭💀

Tav: So, why don't we swap stories? Do you remember-

Shart: Yes, Tav, do you remember the night we bathed in the pools outside the House of the Moon and you spread my-

Tav: -Anyway, have you met Buttons?!

(I will try my best on the one shot but I have so many WIP's at the moment so maybe we can work it in elsewhere?)

[oops-all-concrete]

Hello lovelies, 💘HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!💘

I'm back with more BG3 headcanons! Today's prompt is;

💕Modern AU; Ways the BG3 (romanced) companions are idyllicly sweet with Tav!💕

No spoilers! Tags are; A whole heckin lot of fluff and cuteness!

Lae'zel -

You have to be careful with what you say around Lae'zel. Made a minor comment 3 months ago that you wanted to revisit somewhere in the Sword Coast? Get packing, you guys are all booked to go. Asked Lae'zel to get you candy on the way home? She has 3 full bags. Say that comment her folks made last time you visited made you uncomfortable- you have a paragraph text apology from all of them the next day. She's not just someone who wants to spoil Tav, she fucking will. (If Tav manages to talk her out of going nuts with the pampering, she's surprisingly sentimental. You bet she keeps a rock in her pocket that reminds her of Tav)

Shadowheart -

She is so excited to post you. She doesn't like social media and tends to keep to herself, but after watching Tav post pictures of them both, she wanted to do the same. The minute she gets even the smallest romantic gesture, she's scrapbooking, she has a wall of Polaroids joined by a horde of hand made sketches, she's putting together little snack baskets and mailing them to Tav, she's about as obviously head over heels as a person can be, really. She's always got a camera aimed at Tav, even if they're just for her. (A good 90% are just for her eyes)

Wyll -

This man never plays games/gets online with both sides of the headphones in. It doesn't matter if the game is online, offline, urgent, time sensitive, dependent on his concentration- if Tav so much as makes a peep, he's out of his seat and across the room. Hells, he takes every chance he gets to go give Tav some attention. In the drift of leaving the waking world, Tav will definitely hear a little "One minute, Tav needs me" despite them not asking. Some footsteps. And then moments later, the warmth of the duvet being tucked all over their body and a gentle kiss to the cheek. Whispered "I love you"s and then a quiet. "I'm going to hop off for a few hours." So you can have some quiet.

Karlach -

She's one of those people that really makes you realise you have good taste in other people. Like, you can't think of a time you went on a walk and she didn't pick up some trash, help an elderly person across the street, immediately offer her seat to a pregnant woman. No matter how prideful Tav might be or not, there's a pride in the admiring looks other people give her. Little girls pass in the street and say "mum, I want to be like her when I grow up!" Everything she does makes Tav proud to be with her, yet somehow Tav is always the one under a spotlight to her. "Oh, me and my partner-" this. "Oh, my partner-" that. "I'm so proud of my Tav. Ugh, I am so lucky" she insists at every turn.

Gale -

He's a night owl, much to Tara's dismay. Wether that's because he can't sleep, he likes being awake in the dark hours or- his brain won't stop nattering at him for a gods damned minute, but either way. He's probably working, quietly cleaning, organising Tavs things so they don't have to worry. In quiet moments, between possibly making them breakfast because of course he's up that early- he's just kissing Tav on the forehead, gently, trying not to wake them. He needs them to sleep but there is not a moment in his day where he doesn't think: "Does Tav know I love them? Can I remind them once more? Even if its just for my peace of mind?" Because he will not rest if he has an inkling his live for Tav isn't at the forefront of their mind.

Astarion -

If you even suggest to this man that you should do matching outfits, he's excited. He always wants to take the wheel, but also wants Tav to have a foot in the idea. He will give ideas left and right, opinions up and down. He doesn't care if it's a date or not, cringe solstice photos, or just gym clothes, he's all for it. If you guys didn't have matching pyjamas already, you have them now, congrats. (If he's still a bloodsucker, he'll definitely still go out of his way to learn how to cook for Tav. Tokyo Ghoul rules though, so Tav gets to taste test a lot. Only the best for his little capri-sun) Overall he's just unashamed and excited to be with someone who very obviously wants to be his, visibly as possible.

(Bonus Halsin!)

Halsin -

This man lives for shared activity. He's quite alright on his own and can allow Tav their space, but going to get massages, haircuts/styles, wine tasting is his total vibe. Just relaxed gatherings together. Nobody lives a spa day like this man. It allows a level of intimacy that nature intends. Cleansing. Careful. Close. He will learn how to do Tavs hair and makeup if asked. Will take pleasure in being able to undress them and put them to bed at the end of a long day. Go on hikes and camping trips, walks through the woods, carving names into rocks and bringing back souvenirs to press into a book that's only getting thicker.

[elvhenmage]

John Corcoran (@mrjohncorcoran) As promised, a non-exhaustive list of Shadowheart hooks/hints/prompts in two parts in the thread. From throughout the game, so spoilers naturally

General audience:

Nibbles the mouse

Shadowheart defending Nocturne while they were initiates. Hint that Viconia is proud of her, though never admits it

Nocturne doing Shadowheart's hair

Buddog, a childhood rival/bully of Shadowheart, who was also part of the mission to steal the Astral Prism

Training and indoctrination against Githyanki

The actual heist to take the Astral Prism from Vlaakith's vaults. Shadowheart being the sole survivor of a five-member team

Hints at an earlier infiltration mission at a ball in Baldur's Gate

Viconia giving Shadowheart elocution lessons to help her blend into high society

Shadowheart's enjoyment of disguises and roleplay as part of her Sharran training

Shadowheart and Nocturne's hideaway full of night orchids

'Four dogs, eight cats, nine chickens, six pigeons, four sheep, a milk cow named Daphne, a squirrel who's far too clever for her own good, and a wolf cub I found orphaned in some woods'

The owlbear joining Shadowheart's menagerie

Shadowheart's failed attempts to preserve some of her memories

Allister Marnley (Shadowheart's deceased tutor)

The graffiti

Remembering childhood games from the blighted village

Flashes of memories upon being punished by Shar's curse (while playing as Shadowheart only - not companion).

Learning about Dark Justiciars as a young initiate, and dreaming of becoming one

Nocturne helping Shadowheart remember herself whenever she had her memories taken away

'I'd like to see the islands maybe, or head south to Amn. I heard there's an enclave of werecats that hunt the followers of dark gods by moonlight. I'd love to see if there's any truth to that'

Shadowheart's Special Scrumpy

Dragon-riding with Lae'zel

Bonding with her mother, and remembering the taste of her cooking from childhood

Learning jokes from her father

Visiting the House of the Moon, and evading Sharran assassins

Somewhat spicy audience:

What unfolded under the cover of darkness in Sharess' Caress.

Shared love of smutty literature with Wyll

Hint of discreet romances and encounters amongst Sharran trainees at the Cloister

Ever notice how the Sharrans all seem to sleep together in a big dorm?

Untying knots with her tongue

'Try not to dream of tying me up'

Mistaking Durge's nighttime bloodlust for something more amorous, and being perfectly willing to go along with it stealthily while the rest of the camp sleeps

'She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety... should the need arise'

And it's lesser-seen epilogue follow-up: 'between you and me, I've pretended to have a sprained ankle now and again, for a ride on those muscles'

'Don't wear them out entirely, priest. I might have use for them yet'

Further building of sand castles

Climbing Mount Halsin

*Gestures broadly at Shadowheart and Lae'zel's love-hate tension*

A standing invitation for a private audience with Mother Superior Shadowheart, should you ever be in the vicinity of the Cloister

'Kiss me like you hate me'

Tav: 'If in doubt, I can always lie. We've been slaying dragons and making love atop piles of gold'. Shadowheart: 'That sounds fun - why haven't we been doing that? Perhaps I'll shoo the cats out of our room and scatter copper pieces over the bed some evening, and we can play make-believe'

Bite-kissing

A dash of sacrilegious bloodplay

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright BG3/MHA AU.

All Might is told by his future successor he would much rather tell his parents about his new Quirk and everything that happens with it. Worried but understanding the concerns he agrees. When he goes to the house, he's met not just with Midoriya In’Ko but also her husband Gale and their wife Karlach. Oh and their friends Shadowheart, Astarion, Jaheria, Minsc, Lae’zel, Halsin and Wyll!

AKA: In’ko is a Githyanki Tav who left Faerun with her partners because the bombs inside them went dormant being in a world with less ambient magic. They found Izuku who'd been abandoned for being Quirkless and took him in. In’ko took the name Midoriya and no one questions it since they kind of just think she has a mutation Quirk.

While the trio live in Japan, their friends don’t. They visit though through a portal and love their nephew.

Funny enough, Izuku has barbarian training from Karlach. He's got a lot of rage from his treatment and she decided to teach him to harness it. He ends up being a wild magic barbarian solely cause I think it would be funny.

So Izuku is getting OFA as well as being a barbarian. In’ko and the others after a while let All Might in on the truth who ends up helping them solidify their adoption and hides the info Izuku was adopted. Good thing to when his bio parents try to claim him back when he wins the sports festival later. Turns out his bio dad (Hisashi) is Endeavour’s cousin who tries to get him to help.

Endeavour refuses because a) he doesn't like his cousin. And b) because he only wants Shouto to be the shinning new star of the Todoroki family and he's furious that Izuku turned his son into a chicken with his ‘energy surge’ from the power up during their fight.

There's a lot of shit that goes down with the Midoriya family though to. Gale is the only one with any real childhood among the parents (Karlach did have good parents herself but she was working for Gortash as a teenager and being sold into slavery) but he also was taken advantage of by his mentor which took years to understand. He's hyper aware of All Might who takes one look at this guy and how he acts, going: ah I see. Trauma.

In’ko was raised to kill her fellow kids and be a soldier. She is still soft and kind but her hard edges are there.

Nezu also ends up learning of them and helps solidify their papers while also making them seem like heroes who have retired from covert ops. It actually works for them since they can reference their adventures.

“Right the time we had to over throw that politician who was trying to murder everyone.”

“I wonder how Dame Alyin is doing now that we freed her from being used as a battery due to her powers. Haven't heard from her in a while.”

“Jaheira called. There's a mission to do a raid on a trafficking compound. She's asking if I can lend some fire power. I'll be gone for a bit.”

Just… Izuku being raised by three traumatized people who love him dearly and him just being a little barbarian they're so proud of.

[20skai]

Steady Love

Wyll x Tav OC (Nemeia)

Summary: After returning from Avernus, Wyll and Nemeia throw a party in their new home. But Wyll wants to spend time with his wife while the party is still in full swing.

Tags: smut, fluff, teasing, voyeur kink (?), voice kink, dirty talk, PIV

Word count: 2410

A/N: I want to thank @razrogue for planting the seed to write this fic and @mooshywrites for setting the stage in a headcanon they made. As well as @foreverxdauntless for always being wonderful and beta reading my trash fics 😂🥰

MDNI

The party was in full swing and Wyll had just finished regaling Astarion and Minsc about his adventures in Avernus with Karlach. He was pretty proud of how they finally found the forge Zariel tried to hide away to keep Karlach from coming back to Faerûn. Though it had only been eight months since their last party after defeating the Netherbrain another was needed after he, Karlach and Nemeia came back from Avernus for good. Being with friends in his and Nemeia’s home just outside the Gate made this reunion even better. Everyone was happy to be with one another again and even Lae’zel, though still an Astral projection, couldn’t hide her happiness being amongst friends again.

Wyll may have also been a bit tipsy, telling the story which earned him a small shake of the head Nemeia gave as she walked away and left him and Karlach to it. Though she did still give a smile and a peck to his cheek which in turn caused him to flush a tad.

Wanting to find his love his eyes roved across their home and he finally spotted her. She was on the upstairs overlook smiling happily as she observed everyone and their merriment. Nemeia was wearing a simple dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. The soft lighting inside emphasized on the contours of her face and the purple highlights of her hair, she looked devastatingly beautiful to Wyll. It made his heart clench in that good way that always happened when he was around her.

But there was an ache developing, just a bit south. He was glad there was no one around to see his want for his wife, because otherwise he’d have an embarrassing situation he would have to explain to his friends.

He walked upstairs and swaggered over to her and she turned, beaming at him. The way her smile lights up her whole face makes him weak in the knees and his heart race faster. This celebration was exactly what she needed after all the stresses of Avernus and the both of them helping the people of the Coast. And with his father calling on him to help with city affairs there hasn’t been an abundance time for them to spend with one another. Though to his father’s credit he doesn’t call on him often but makes sure to get him home at an appropriate time to see Nemeia.

“Hello, beloved,” she said. “You and Karlach having fun telling our stories in Avernus?”

“Of course.” He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned back against him with a happy sigh and her tail twisting around his thigh. “We three made a great team and accomplished much while there, it needed to be shared.”

“That’s good to hear, beloved. You’ll have to forgive my current state. From cooking dinner for us all and running to the baker for his tiny cakes I had to change into a simpler dress. I’m most likely going to have to bathe after everyone leaves for the night.”

“Mhm . . .” he hummed, and she shivered. Wyll knew how much she loved his voice when he was so close and especially during the throes of passion. He hummed again and nibbled her ear right after. Nemeia pressed herself back against him, pausing for a moment when she felt him harden in his trousers.

“What salacious thoughts are going through your head, beloved?”

“You, in the bath, bare and wet for me.” He spoke softly directly into the cup of her ear, and goosebumps broke out all over her body. Her nipples were just visible beneath her dress, and he ached to touch them and take them in his mouth as he’d done time and time before, however there were too many potential observers downstairs. But Wyll notices while they all may be drinking, they are oblivious to the way Nemeia was grinding herself against his hardened length and making him groan. He kept his lips next to her ear, and his breaths and groans traveled down her spine like a bolt of lightning and her knees nearly buckled.

Gods, how did he do that, she wondered. Nemeia was so aroused now just from his voice that she was ready to drag him into their bedroom and let him do whatever he wanted to her, but Wyll had other plans. He guided her hands to the railing and pinned them there. His body felt so warm and solid at her back.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, love?” he murmured, his lips grazing her neck. “You smell so sweet tonight.”

“I’m sure you’re just being kind, love.” she replied jokingly, but her voice was breathy with barely contained lust. He nipped at her throat and she let out an almost audible gasp.

“You’re so soft and warm and lovely. And you make the sweetest moans for me.” He strokes her arms, sliding up to her shoulders and back down to her wrists. He then licks a slow line up her neck and swirls his tongue around her ear. Nemeia closed her eyes and bit her lip reveling in the attention being heaped on her. Her skin felt feverish and she was trembling slightly, and Wyll wanted to see how far he could take this dance without rousing the suspicions any of their friends.

“Wyll, please, let’s go to our bedroom” she pleaded. His hands slide around her and he pushes his hips against her ass. He was fully erect now, and that thick hardness of his ridged length pressed against her and sent shivering waves of need everywhere he touched.

“Not quite yet, love. I want to try something that’s been on my mind for a while.” His fingertips trailed down her sides to her hips, and she had to muffle a moan. “Would you let me try it, love?

Nemeia nods her head in desperation.

“Thank you, love. Now say my name.”

“Wyll, please.”

“I love the way my name sounds on your lips. No one could ever say it like you do.” He slid his hand up her body, grazing slowly over her breast, making her gasp. He knew how much she had to be controlling her face so as not to give herself away and he almost feels bad for putting her through this with everyone downstairs celebrating. But he needed to see this through, he was so aroused seeing his wife trying to keep composure even though they both know she’s lost in pleasure. “What are you feeling, love? Are you getting wet for me?”

“Y-Yes.” She turns her face into his neck to conceal the soft moan that escapes her lips.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

“Yes.”

He puts a hand over her stomach, feeling the ridges on her body and making his way farther down, placing his hand just below her navel; he could just barely feel the muscles there fluttering in anticipation. He knew how that felt when he was inside her, the way she’d squeeze him and hold him when he did something right.

“Turn around and put your arms around me. Mhm, just like that, love.” His hands wander up and down her back, stroking her hair and neck, caressing her arms, and she feels heat and electricity crackling along her skin making her feel alive. She rubs her cheek against his chest and pleads, “Please, keep talking.”

“Close your eyes and think back to this morning. Can you remember?” She nodded, and her arms tightened around his neck, her body also tightening in arousal. “I woke up before you and I couldn’t help but caress every single inch of you. You looked so sweet and innocent in your sleep. I kissed down your body and you woke up to me between your legs and with them over my shoulders.”

Nemeia takes in a shuddering breath and starts to kiss his neck, her hips tight against his length just beneath in trousers. “Yes, gods, keep going.”

“I love the sounds you make when I tease you, so I took my time, made you beg me to taste you. And I did, you sang so beautifully to me.” Wyll was almost painfully stiff under his trousers. He ached to be inside her, but he is too invested in this to stop now.

“You’re always so responsive and sensitive when you’re drunk on pleasure, and you wanted me so terribly. Gods, do you remember what you said? You had your hands on my horns and said you wanted me to fuck you with my tongue, such a naughty thing for my sweet wife to say. Fuck, you don’t know what that does to me.”

Wyll takes her hand and drags it down his body and on his desire, pushing her palm against him, and her knees almost give out. She’s thankful that she’d been leaning against the railing otherwise she would have collapsed. The way she was breathing, Wyll knew she was close to her peak. ��Do you feel me, love? Just thinking about tasting the sweetness of you makes me so stiff, Nemeia.”

“Please, Wyll, please. I need you,” she moaned, bucking her hips to drive the point home. He gives a moan of his own in response.

“How attached are you to this dress, love?” She gives him a curious, then a bewildered look.

“Wait, right here?” She was a little worried, but her breath was shallow and she looked like she didn’t need much convincing from him.

“Yes, my love, right here. Hold very, very still for me.” He rips a small hole through the crotch of her dress with a letter opener that was thankfully on a table beside them.

Luckily they didn’t light many candles on the top floor so the balcony was dimmed in a bit of shadow. “Don’t tell me the thought doesn’t excite you, love. Now, spread your legs a bit wider for me, but not too much. We don’t want the others to notice.” Nemeia turned around to see if anyone was looking, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. “I’ll keep my eye on them, love, don’t worry.” He unlaced his trousers with one hand and, with one more glance below, took his throbbing and ridged length out and slid it between her thighs.

The friction of the dresses fabric gave way to warm, pliable flesh as Wyll pushed through the opening he’d made in her dress. He was delighted in knowing his sweet wife had forgone wearing underwear tonight. He leaned down to kiss her and when she allowed his tongue into her mouth, he entered her, bottoming out in one thrust. She let out a strangled moan and he cupped the back of her head, hand tangled in her locs. He fastens his mouth over hers to swallow the sounds of pleasure she was making. She felt so amazing, so tight, warm and ready for him, that he almost finished right then. He takes a few deep steadying breaths to control himself not wanting this to end too soon.

“Look there, love,” he whispered. “Look at our friends. They’re none the wiser about what we’re doing, how I’m so deep within you right now.” Nemeia gasps, and her breath fans across his face. Her warm channel flutters and clenches around him in need. “Mmm, dammit, squeeze me again. Mhm, just like that. You always feel so good, love. You were made just for me.” Heat coils up in his belly and it rolls throughout his body. He grips the railing and leaves bites and kisses to her neck to hide the look of unadulterated pleasure on his face. Being with each other this long Wyll secretly suspected Nemeia knew just how to bring him over the edge, how to use her body to make him addicted to her just as she is addicted to him.

Not being able to move was beginning to be torturous, the restraint needed too much, and he began to rock his hips as much as he dared. The slow and shallow thrusts were just what she needed, though. Nemeia was already extremely sensitive and swollen with desire, and every thrust and grind he made had him rubbing against her clit. She clenched around him every time he pulled out, as if she didn’t want him parted from her for even a second and was bringing him deeper into her. Giving her a long, languid kiss he buried his face in her shoulder again feeling he was close to the precipice. Nemeia could almost feel her friends down below and imagined all of their gazes on her. Witnessing her being used by her husband and that thought was enough to send her over the edge losing her rhythm undulating her hips as she came and clamped down on his member.

He felt her peak and she had to bite down on his shoulder to stifle the desperate whines and moans that wanted to spill from her lips. The overwhelming pleasure was too much for him as his head was filled with nothing but Nemeia and how her walls clamp and flutter around him as he gives a handful of rough and sloppy thrusts before flying over the edge and flooding her with his hot, sticky seed, gasping as he emptied into her.

After catching his breath Wyll pulls himself from her cum filled channel but still holds her as to not break the magic of their afterglow. After a few minutes they put themselves back together as well as they can and Nemeia wraps her arms around him and kisses him lazily. Wyll grazes his tongue onto the seam of her lips and explores her mouth when she opens up to him, gripping her back with both hands. They finally part and look at each other lovingly with small giggles passing between them at their antics.

“Go and get changed, love. We’ll mingle for a bit more but everyone is leaving within the hour. I’m not done with you yet tonight.” Nemeia nods her head and begins to walk away to their bedroom but not without a playful slap to her ass Wyll gives before she’s out of reach. Going back downstairs Wyll begins chatting with Gale about his students as no one suspects the intimate display that happened just above their heads.

[thechaoticdruid]

[The Time I became God of the Fish People.]

Pairing: Astarion x Named!Tav (Winnie).

Plot: While lost in the Underdark Astarion and Winnie find themselves amongst a strange tribe of fish people. (Yes this is something that actually happens in the game.)

Note: This is part of my during in game campaign oneshot series. The oneshots aren't necessarily all posted in chronological order.

Content/Warnings: OC! TAV, Tav uses She/her pronouns, Suggestive content, mentions of sex, death, violence, slight Lae'zel x Shadowheart, Astarion is a dick to Scratch, Astarion being manipulative.

For the longest time sleep had been a chore for the druid. Her mind would run wild with horrifying memories of death and torture. A red eyed drow wizard staring down at her with a sadistic grin as he brought a glowing blade to her flesh. Branding her with several scars across her body which never truly healed. Normally she'd awaken several times a night in a panic, having to struggle to calm herself down before she could even attempt to return to her slumber. 

But lately she'd slept peacefully. Her sleep was either dreamless or sprinkled with visions of the beautiful elf that laid beside her. 

The messy haired woman opened her eyes with a quiet yawn as she glanced over at the pale skinned beauty, hugging a blanket over her plump body. He laid next to her, eyes closed allowing her to study his pretty, long eyelashes. The two of them had slept together in his tent after a previous night of carnal indulgence. There was a decent space between their two bodies. While the young woman would often rest her head on her lover's chest. The pale skinned elf was never too eager to cuddle. There was always this distance he'd put between them after sex. A reminder of what their relationship really was. 

Still the druid admired him, the way his lovely white curls framed his perfect face, how soft and kissable his lips were. How his hands dwarfed hers in sizing, actually making her feel smaller than she actually was. She couldn't help but smile softly as she stared longingly at him.

“Enjoying the view are we, pet?~” Astarion's sleepy voice piped up, ruby red eyes slowly opening. Winnie rolled her eyes at his little nickname for her. He thought it fitting considering she turned into animals and practically followed him around like a little lost puppy at times. 

“Always.” Winnie hummed with a blush. Astarion sat up and stretched, a smile on his face as he glanced down at his human bedfellow. His muscular physique graced the druid's eyes as he grabbed his white undershirt and pulled it on over his head. 

 “It would probably be best if we readied ourselves before the others come looking.” The vampiric elf mused, pulling on his underwear and pants. Winnie let out a slight whine and buried her face into a pillow. 

“I don't wanna get up. I feel so sore….” She murmured, “my ass hurts.” 

“Perhaps I did get a little over excited last night. It was hard not to with such a delicious feast laid out for me.~” Astarion purred in a suggestive tone.

“You scrambled my innards…” The druid groaned. 

“You weren't complaining during the act.” The vampire smirked.

“I wasn't in pain then…” Winnie whined. Astarion leaned over her with a smug look on his face. As if proud of himself. 

“Well, sleep in if you wish. But I doubt you'll enjoy explaining to Lae'zel why you're so sore when she comes to fetch you.”  Astarion chuckled, playfully patting Winnie’s ass. The druid let out a frustrated groan before sitting up, holding the blankets tightly to cover her nude form. Winnie grabbed her undergarments before putting them on along with her shirt and pants. The human female then pulled on her druid armor before exiting the tent after Astarion. She let out a yawn, running a hand through disheveled brown hair as she stepped into the light. A bright blue glow was emitting from the strange flora growing out of the cliffs around them. The group had set up camp outside of the abandoned Arcane Tower after stumbling around and getting lost in the Underdark.

“Silence k’chakhi!” Lae'zel hissed, snatching the map from Shadowheart’s hands. “You're the reason we've been led astray!”

“As if you've been doing anything besides ranting about that damned creché of yours!” Shadowheart retorted. 

“Hey! Settle down. I won't have you two going at each other's throats again!” Winnie shouted, stepping in between the two women.

“Chk, The half-elf is incompetent. She shouldn't be trusted to navigate for us!” Lae'zel said as she turned to Winnie.

“You shouldn't be trusted at all and yet you're still here.” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“Fighting surely won't help the issue.” Winnie rubbed her temples. “Look, we just need to find our way back to the Myconid colony and then we'll be able to figure out how to get to the Shadow cursed lands from there.” 

“If we search for the creché there will be no need to risk falling to the curse.” Lae'zel pressed.

“We've taken a vote already. The others decided that Moonrise would be our priority.” The half-elf added, causing the gith to curse under her breath. 

Winnie looked around the area. 

“Wyll, you and Gale go together and check that way to see if there's a path that'll lead us back the way we came. I'll take Astarion and check the opposite direction.” Winnie exclaimed before turning to the other three women. “Ladies, you three will stay here and mind the camp. Karls, make sure these two don't kill each other, please.” 

“You got it, soldier!” Karlach replied and stood between Lae'zel and Shadowheart. The two of them, still giving the other the side eye.

Winnie then proceeded to grab her pack and walk off with Astarion following. 

Scratch, the loveable dog companion the party had picked up on their journey, quickly ran after Winnie, sticking close to her heels as his tail wagged. They wandered away from camp, eyes scanning for the path leading back to where they came from. The day before while the party was venturing through the Underdark they had ended up being chased off course by a bullette. Shadowheart had been the one holding onto the map, hence Lae'zel’s blame, but the bullette was the real reason they had gotten lost. Luckily the beast ended up running right into a patch of torchstalk and was driven back after being burned severely, but by then the group was way off course.  Winnie looked around the large area where the torchstalk had been. Most of it had been destroyed by the bullette but there were still a few just out of reach. Winnie had to be careful not to get too close to any of the deadly flora. Scratch sniffed the ground picking up a rather intriguing scent as he wandered past Winnie and Astarion.

Winnie looked down at the ground, noticing odd footprints. 

“Lae'zel and Shadowheart seem to be at it again. I wonder when they'll finally release the tension.” The vampire hummed aloud.

“What are you talking about?” Winnie looked back at him with a confused look. 

“Oh you know ... .The two of them sneaking off into the forest for a late night tryst.” Astarion said in a slightly flirty tone.

“Are you suggesting that they like each other?” Winnie tilted her head in confusion.

“Not exactly, but they definitely want to fuck.” Astarion said bluntly, “probably quite roughly.”

“Could you please stop putting images in my head? I'd rather not think about my friends doing that…” Winnie said, turning bright red. 

“Oh, you poor pitiful innocent thing. You'd be completely boring if it wasn't for that adorable blush you have.” Astarion teased, playfully poking Winnie’s cheek. The druid rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away before suddenly hearing Scratch let out a bark before scampering over towards a large hole and repeatedly barking at it.

“Hells below, if that dog keeps yapping I am going make him my afternoon snack.” The vampire hissed.

“No Astarion. He's found something.” Winnie said before wandering over towards the hole. The vampire let out an annoyed sigh before quickly following his companion. Winnie peaked down into the chasm, it was dark and appeared bottomless, but the druid's pink eyes could spot vines running down towards the bottom.

“Winnie, I'm not going to jump in after you if you fall to your death.” Astarion grumbled, yet grabbed hold of Winnie’s pack, yanking her back by it.  

“I'm not going to fall. I just…..You smell that?” Winnie suddenly sniffed the air. A faint salty sour smell hit Winnie's senses. Fish.

“Ugh…It's disgusting.” Astarion grimaced. Scratch sniffed the air before suddenly jumping down into the hole.

“Scratch!” Winnie shouted as the dog disappeared down the tunnel.

“Stupid mutt! Now he's gone and got himself killed.” Astarion huffed. 

Winnie bit her lip before suddenly hearing the faint echo of a woof. 

“He's alive down there!” She said before yanking away from Astarion. “I'm coming, boy!”

“Winnie! What in the bloody hells are you doing?!” Astarion snapped at her. The human female simply ignored him and leapt down into the chasm.  “Winnie!” The vampire gritted his teeth, eyes betraying a hint of concern. “You soft hearted fool! I'm not going in after you!” Astarion stood there with a frown looking down into the abyss. He turned to walk away, attempting to convince himself to leave the foolish woman to her fate. 

Astarion got about five feet away before letting out a frustrated growl before quickly turning back and hopping onto the opposite side of the chasm, latching onto vines and beginning to climb downwards.  Down below Winnie had landed on a ledge next to Scratch. She scanned around the tunnel but her lack of dark vision made it hard to see. Although there was the faintest sound of water coming from somewhere lower down. 

“Sol Invictus!” Winnie created a blue flame from her palm, illuminating the tunnel around her. Below her she could see some large mushrooms growing down the side of the chasm. Scratch let out a bark before hopping down onto one after the other. Winnie quickly followed, using each mushroom as a stepping stone until eventually she could see light at the bottom of the tunnel. 

Winnie and Scratch carefully climbed down and looked around the area. The druid put out her flame as her pink eyes scanned her surroundings. There was a waterfall to her left, pouring down from the cavern ceiling it seemed. More large mushrooms were up ahead, these ones were massive and grew up the side of a cliff. Winnie squinted her eyes, spotting a body of water in the distance and something that looked like a village maybe? Winnie didn't have too much time to think before suddenly she heard a shout and suddenly something fell on her. The human female suddenly found herself buried under something firm but slightly squishy.  

“Oh gods…I thought that was the end of me…” A familiar posh voice hit Winnie’s ears. 

“Arghhh….Get your ass out of my face!” Winnie snapped and pushed the elf off of her, face flushed bright red. Winnie rubbed her head a bit dizzy from nearly being flattened. 

“Ah…Apologies, darling. It seems you broke my fall.” The vampire chuckled.

“You nearly crushed my skull.” The druid growled. 

“Well that could've been avoided had you not acted like an idiot and decided to hop right into a chasm!” Astarion crossed his arms as Winnie got to her feet. 

“I thought you weren't going to follow me?” 

“I wasn't! But…then I figured Karlach would likely make me go looking for you if I went back to camp empty handed.” Astarion coughed a bit at the end as his eyes looked off to the side. 

“How chivalrous.” Winnie rolled her eyes before glancing back over in the direction of the ‘village’ she had spotted. Strange sounds appeared to be coming from over there. “I think someone is living down here…” She said as she slowly began to creep closer in the direction of the noise. 

“Oh well, maybe there's a friendly brothel nearby.” Astarion said sarcastically. Winnie climbed onto one of the large mushrooms, Scratch quickly following, staying low to the ground. Eventually Astarion joined the two as his eyes widened in surprise at the sight of fish people standing in front of some type of wooden altar of some kind. 

“Well that explains the smell.” He hummed.

“I think I've read about these guys before.” Winnie said quietly. “They're called Kuo-Toa, fish folk that live in the Underdark.” The druid explained. “They're apparently former mind flayer slaves with the power to create their own gods or something like that…” 

“Ugh, why can't we ever run into anyone normal?” Astarion complained. Winnie kept her eyes on the fish folk below. They appeared to be sacrificing one of their own. Winnie leaned closer before suddenly slipping off the edge of the shroom and tumbling down off onto the ground before with a grunt. Astarion let out a sigh, red eyes rolling in annoyance as he leapt down after her.

“You! You have interrupted our sacred ceremony!” One of the fish folk, some kind of priest by the look of it, approached Winnie.  

“Oops…Sorry about that.” Winnie chuckled nervously.

“You will become the next sacrifice to our great god of murder! Bhooaal!” 

“Ah….No…I don't think so….” Winnie stood up and slowly began back up. Astarion and Scratch came to Winnie’s side quickly.  Her eyes flickered over towards the altar where a dead  Kuo-Toa lay.

“Do not let the sacrifice escape! Bring me their head!” A deep monstrous voice called out.

Out of the shadows hopped a creature covered in red. Winnie raised an eyebrow and breathed in. The scent of the creature seemed familiar, definitely no god. Its stench was thick with the scent of death and the earthy smell of a bog. Winnie looked at the ‘god’ with a curious expression as she studied the monster, taking in his features. 

“That's not a god. It's just a redcap!” Winnie exclaimed with a glare, hand stretched out as she pointed at him. 

“What?  How dare you, I'm a god!” The pretender shouted before suddenly the red glow covering his body faded away. 

“Great Bhooaal? What is this?” The fish priest gasped in confusion. 

“Oh dear, looks like the great Bhooaal isn't so great after all.” Astarion chuckled. 

“You little wretch! You'll pay for this!” The redcap charged towards Winnie. Astarion quickly moved in front of her and swiped at the little fey creature with his rapier.  The redcap backed up, leaping out of the way just in the nick of time. 

Scratch growled and bounded forward grabbing hold of the redcap’s leg with his teeth.  

“Flageo!” Winnie summoned a thorned vine whip and lassoed the redcap over towards her making him fall on his face with a grunt.  Winnie then shot an ice knife at the redcap, hitting him right in the jugular. Winnie sighed in relief.

“Honestly I'd love to go one day without people trying to kill me.” She rubbed her temples before suddenly her ears were filled with clapping.

“You have slain the pretender. We knew in our hearts the god Bhooaal was false. But you, we see you. We know you by your true name, Mahkloopah!” The fish priest exclaimed.

“Praise Mahkloopah! Mahkloopah!” The fish folk chanted, kneeling down in front of Winnie. 

“If they offer sacrifices, might I suggest virgins? Young and hot blooded.” Astarion piped up. 

“I'm not taking any sacrifices!” Winnie turned back towards the vampire who pouted in response.

“Mahkloopah! Please allow us to serve you! We will build you a grand palace where you may rule over your subjects!” 

“I uh….I don't think….” Winnie began to speak before Astarion covered suddenly her mouth. 

“Now, now darling let's not be rude. Your new friends only wish to please you, why not accept their hospitality?” The elf purred, slowly removing his hand from her mouth as he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. Winnie felt a shiver go down her spine as his blood red orbs met hers. Her cheeks flushed pink and she cleared her throat. 

“Okay…fine.” The druid replied, looking away shyly. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Great Mahkloopah! We have built you a throne to sit upon!” One of the Kuo-Toa called and led Winnie up a hill. She glanced over to see a large wooden chair with cushions on the seat and strange markings carved into it. Winnie sat down on it and looked over the hill, seeing the fish folk beginning to build a structure. It felt strange to have these people worshiping her like a god. She wasn't very sure how to feel about it.  Astarion approached her, strutting over to her before planting himself on her lap. 

“Uh…What are you doing?” Winnie blushed a bit. 

“Taking my place at your side, my dear. We are a team after all.” Astarion chuckled, “and besides you clearly could use a little help governing your new followers.” 

“I'm honestly a bit weirded out by the attention.” Winnie replied, looking off to the side.

“Great Mahkloopah! We have brought blood sacrifices for your murderous bride!” Two of the fish folk exclaimed dragging along what looked like water jugs full of blood. 

“Murderous bride?” Winnie blinked in confusion as Astarion quickly got to his feet and took hold of one of the jugs.  

“Mmm….I could get used to this.” The vampiric elf licked his lips. 

“Where did you get the blood?” Winnie asked.

“It is the blood of the least worthy to be in your presence, oh great one.” The fish person replied.

“Right….” The druid gulped nervously.

“We have also brought gifts for you, great Mahkloopah.” The fish folk then proceeded to set out a wooden tray with a decadent assortment of meat and cheese. Astarion had poured blood into a glass chalice Winnie’s subjects had brought. The elf sat back down on Winnie's lap. Winnie’s eyes widening at the sight of the cheese, mouth watering.  

“See darling, why not indulge yourself a bit?” Astarion stroked her chin.  

“I suppose we could hang out for a bit.” Winnie smiled slightly before taking the tray and dining out on some cheese.  

“You know what? Since I'm your god and all. Build me a hot spring! And uhh.. some sweet wine would be nice!” Winnie ordered. 

“Yes, great one! We shall begin right away!” Winnie and Astarion began to indulge in the perks of being worshiped. The Kuo-Toa dug out a deep pond and filled it with hot water, creating a makeshift spring and as the time went by Winnie’s companions began to worry, growing concerned as they waited back at camp.

Karlach had begun to pace a bit as Wyll and Gale returned from their search. 

“We found a path leading down to an old village. We should be able to find our way back to the Myconid colony from there.” Wyll exclaimed.

“Winnie and Astarion aren't back yet.” Karlach huffed. “Something doesn't feel right…” The tall tiefling crossed her arms.

“They're probably on their way back now.” Shadowheart piped up. 

“I don't know…I have a bad feeling in my gut.” Karlach’s tail swatted back and forth.

“Winnie and Astarion probably just got distracted canoodling or something like that.” Gale tried to calm her down.

“I'm going to look for them.” Karlach said before walking off, taking her battle-axe with her. 

“I'm coming as well. Those two have spent enough time fornicating.” Lae'zel hissed.  Shadowheart shook her head before getting up to follow them.

Back in the cove the fish folk had taken care of all of Winnie and Astarion’s wishes. The two were blissfully enjoying being pampered after weeks searching for a cure and fighting various foes. But of course all good things must come to an end. Scratch sniffed about as Winnie and her elven companion were enjoying the makeshift hot spring the fish folk had prepared for them. 

The ivory furred canine detected the smell of smoke and scampered about to investigate, his nose soon leading him towards an area with several fire pits where the fish folk had seemed to be carving some kind of wooden statue that resembled Winnie.  It was much taller than she was however and the Kuo-Toa were tossing more wood on the ground around it.  Scratch tilted his head, brown eyes spotting one of the fish folk with ropes as the smart canine began to put the pieces together and growled before turning tail and running back to find his mistress. Winnie was drying off, sitting in her boxers and tank as she noticed the dog towards her, barking. 

“Oh what does that dog want now?” Astarion huffed as he pulled his shirt back on over his head, white curls still dripping wet. 

“Scratch? Is everything okay, boy?” Winnie looked at him with concern. Before anything else happened however, Scratch turned around and growled as the Kuo-Toa approached. 

“Great Mahkloopah, we have prepared a ceremonial ritual to honor you and free you from these mortal chains.” The Kuo-Toa priest exclaimed. 

“Uh…What?” Winnie blinked in confusion before two of the fish folk grabbed hold of her arms.

“Come great Mahkloopah, the ceremony must begin!” They led her off. Scratch growled and barked, chasing after them. Astarion rose an eyebrow as the fish people dragged Winnie off. 

“I don't believe they're planning on braiding her hair. Probably best if I tagged along.” Astarion grabbed his rapier and bow before following after them. 

Winnie was brought towards a gigantic wooden statue of herself. 

“Hey whoa! What in the hells do you guys think you're doing?” Winnie yanked away from her followers as soon as she noticed the wood piled up around the statue. 

“We must free you from your mortal flesh oh great one!” The fish priest exclaimed, “the fire will release your divine body from its mortal confines and then your reign will truly begin.”

“Fuck no, I'm not going to let you burn me alive!” Winnie growled and quickly got into a defensive stance. 

“But great Mahkloopah! It is the only way your godly soul will be free!” The priest pressed, stepping towards Winnie with a determined look.

Suddenly an arrow hit the priest through the shoulder.  

“I prefer my little blood bag raw, thank you.” Astarion was suddenly at Winnie’s side with his bow drawn. Scratch appeared along with him, teeth bared and snarling. The Kuo-Toa surrounded them, some of them grabbed nets as they prepared to attack. 

“Do not let them escape! Our God must be freed!” The priest said clutching his arm. Winnie gritted her teeth, preparing to wildshape when suddenly something errupted from the ground. A massive bullette broke through the dirt with a roar, turning and beginning to attack the fish folk who quickly began grab their weapons and fight off the gigantic beast. 

“I think that's our cue to escape.” Winnie said before grabbing hold of Scratch and Astarion and making a run for it.  The trio quickly returned to the area where they'd come in and began climbing back up the vines, leaving the cove and Kuo-Toa behind. Once they reached the top however they noticed Karlach, Lae'zel and Shadowheart waiting for them. 

“There you are! Where’ve you two been!?” Karlach asked. Winnie panted, pushing Scratch up to the top of the cliff. 

“F-Fish…” Was all she seemed to be able to get out. 

“Fish?” Lae'zel and Shadowheart looked at each other confused. 

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Phew, got this out just before vacation. I kinda got very stumped by the end because this little encounter really doesn't have anything that happens after becoming Mahkloopah so I was like fuck it, low-key Pirates of The Caribbean reference. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~Druid

Taglist: @vixstarria , @paganwitchisis , @kerwin290710 , @anukulee , @gobbodoggo

[its-jaytothemee]

Tonight...And Every Night - Chapter 7

Pairing: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav; Astarion and Tav POVs

Word count: 2,000; Chapter 7, Tav POV

Rating: Mature

Read on AO3

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Summary: Tav fails to convince Astarion to reject the Rite of Profane Ascension and refuses to help him complete it. He leaves her and the party, but regrets his choices later. Angsty and fluffy, POVs from both Astarion and Tav.

Tags: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Spawn!Astarion, Angst w/ Happy Ending

Author's Note: This was inspired by my playthrough where I somehow failed all of the persuasion checks for Astarion after the Cazador fight, leaving me obviously devastated. Much longer chapter incoming!

Tav stood completely still, barely breathing. She blinked a few times, worried that this may be an illusion.

“How long have you been there?” She asked, releasing her held breath.

“Long enough.” Astarion paused. “Did you mean what you said?” He asked quietly.

She continued staring at him, saying nothing.

“When you said you could forgive me.” His voice was soft and hopeful.

“That depends on what you say next.”  Her pain seeped into every syllable of her words. She was barely able to get them out before the tears came back into her eyes. Her fingers dug deeper into Halsin’s hand.

“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath before continuing.

“Tav…I’m…” He paused for a moment and let out a large sigh, “I am so sorry. Words alone will never heal the suffering I caused you today. What I said was unforgiveable, even more so because it was you. You didn’t betray me, I betrayed you. I was blinded with my desire for revenge, I don’t know what came over me…I…” He started to stammer, his eyes darting between her and the ground in front of him.

“You were the first person in two hundred years to show me a shred of compassion, and I was grateful. But I never dared to dream that you could love someone like me. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even believe that love was real. To me, it was just a fairy tale to help everyone sleep better at night, to keep them hopeful. Then…there was you.” He paused, looking down at his hands, still stained with Cazador’s blood. Tav watched him carefully, watching his expressions and listening closely to the tone of his voice.

“I understand if you never want to see me again,” he continued, lifting his head back up to look into her eyes, “but if you’ll give me one last chance, I promise you I will work to be the person you see in me. I…I want to be someone you can be proud of; I want to be someone who deserves you, Tav. I want to learn to live again – with you if you’ll have me. And if I can’t have that, I would happily start over with you from the beginning, as friends, as travelling companions. I cannot fathom the idea of no longer having you in my life. I’d rather live a thousand years having you as an acquaintance than live another day knowing I could never see your face again.”

Her bottom lip was quivering as the tears kept flowing down her cheeks.  She still couldn’t bring herself to move.

“But know this Tav,” he continued, “if you ask it of me, I will leave. I will find my way back into the shadows, and I will not trouble you again. It would be nothing less than what I deserve. I simply could not have lived with myself if I did not tell you how I feel.” The next breath he took was much shakier, and Tav could see that he was crying now.

“I…I love you, Tav. You didn’t take everything from me, you are everything to me.” When he looked back up to her, his soft, red eyes were a silent plea. The tear streaks on his face tinted with dried blood. She desperately searched his face for any signs of deception, but as far as she could tell he just looked terrified.

Suddenly, a memory came creeping back to her, the dark air around her transforming into swirling shadows.

The camp was silent, Tav couldn’t sleep and had decided to check the fires around the perimeter of camp. She didn’t think she would ever get used to the eerie darkness of these shadow cursed lands. A small whimper from somewhere behind her caused her to jump as she adjusted a torch. Grabbing the dagger at her belt, she slowly worked her way toward the sound. To her surprise, the sound was coming from Astarion’s tent. She stowed her dagger, and quietly pushed her way inside.

“Astarion?” She asked gently, reaching her hand out to rest on his back. Her fingers lightly ran across the slightly raised skin that made up the infernal scars on his back. He startled awake at her touch, breathing heavily.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me.” She tried to keep her voice as soothing as possible.

Even so, the look on his face was one of pure agony. She gave him a moment to process his surroundings. As his breathing slowed and he seemed to recognize that he wasn’t in any danger, he was finally able to speak.

“Oh, hello darling.” He said, still slightly out of breath. “Is something the matter?”

She looked at him, confused.

“No, everything’s okay, I just heard sounds coming from your tent and came to check on you.” She said, trying to avoid upsetting him further.

“Ah…I see…well…” he leaned back, seemingly trying to gather his thoughts, “as you can see I’m perfectly…fine.” He paused for a long moment before the word ‘fine.’ She watched as his face fell again, and she realized that he was afraid.

Tav tentatively reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. He ever so slightly leaned into her touch. She still wasn’t sure how much intimacy he was comfortable with. She didn’t want to push him, but she was aching to hold him, to let him know he was safe. While lost in her thoughts, Astarion suddenly lunged at her, throwing his arms around her waist and squeezing her tight. She returned the gesture, happily. He cried into her shoulders, taking ragged, gasping breaths. His arms were shaking, he desperately clung to her as if she was the only thing anchoring him to this plane. She softly stroked his back and his hair, doing whatever she could think of to try and calm him.

“You’re…you’re alright.” He sobbed into her shoulder.

“Of course I am, I’ve just been in my tent trying to rest.” She continued to hold him tight against her, still slightly confused.

“It…it was Cazador. He had you…” He took a deep gasping breath. “He made me watch as he carved…you were screaming.”

“I’m alright, my love. It was only a dream...” She held his trembling body close to her until his breathing returned to normal.

 Astarion hardly talked about Cazador. From what little she knew, it was easy to tell that he was a masochistic lunatic. What she didn't realize was that even without being able to control him, he was still able to torture Astarion from afar. He haunted his dreams even while miles away, unable to touch him. She knew he had suffered greatly at his master's hands, but just now realized how truly tormented Astarion's soul was as he held her tightly. He didn’t only fear for his own life, but that of anyone he dared to care about.

It was now that she realized that this was going to take a significant amount of time to heal, and that the healing couldn't truly start until Cazador was dead and gone. He would carry the scars of his torment for the rest of his life, constantly reminding him of that time. A pain stabbed at her chest, suddenly anxious that she couldn’t truly help him, that maybe he was too far gone. What could she possibly offer to offset two hundred years of pure malice? She laid him down next to her on the bedroll and held his head to her chest, still stroking his hair.

“Will you stay?” He managed to croak out between his shallow breaths.

“I’m right here with you. I’ll always be right here with you.” She whispered the promise into his ear. She also made another promise, silently. I’ll help you get through this, my love. You’ll live freely again, I promise.

Tav was suddenly back at their camp, the cool evening air was causing small bumps to rise on her arms. She found herself looking back into Astarion’s pleading eyes and faced with another choice.

Her mind was spinning. She never expected that he would actually come back, but was it enough? She kept her gaze locked on him as she thought through their time together. He had come so far, but still had so much further to go. He had used her and manipulated her for his own gain. But he had also dove in front of arrows for her, he stood up for her when others sought to cross her boundaries even though he couldn’t set any of his own. Despite everything, he still followed her, helped her, and believed in her. She knew that he had never known an ounce of leniency or forgiveness in his long life, yet here he was. Trusting and hoping that she would be the first person to give it to him. He knew all too well that she could crush him right here and now. He knew there was a possibility that she would be the proof he needed that he wasn’t worthy of redemption. He had to know that there was a very good chance she would send him away forever. And he still came back.

Yes, she was angry, she was still hurt, but in that moment, she was also so godsdamned proud of him. She thought back to her silent promise, her worry that she had nothing to offer him. Now what she could see as easily as the familiar lines on his face, was that he needed to feel forgiveness. He needed to know that he wasn’t alone, and if he would allow it, he would never have to be again. Halsin’s words rang in her ears, she didn’t want to think of her kindness as a weakness anymore.

She let go of Halsin’s hand and took small steps forward, slowly closing the gap between her and Astarion. Only a couple of steps away now, she was still not fully convinced that this wasn’t all some elaborate illusion. She hesitantly reached out her hand to touch his cheek, just to prove that it was really Astarion standing in front of her. The familiar feel of his cool, smooth skin greeted her fingers. He turned his face into her hand, closing his eyes. With that, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

Tav grabbed Astarion by his cloak and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. It took him a moment for him to hug her back, almost as if he didn’t believe it was happening. She cried into his neck, digging her hands into his back and his hair, trying to pull him closer. He cradled the back of her head, his other hand wrapped around her waist as far as he could reach, holding her as tightly against him as she could be. He lifted her up off the ground slightly as she clung to him.

“You came back.” She choked out between her sobs.

He pulled away slightly so he could grab her face in his hands.

“Of course I came back, my dear. And I’m here to stay.” He crashed his lips into hers, kissing her deeply. She broke away after a moment and pressed her forehead to his.

“Never scare me like that again.” She whispered.

“Never again.” He promised, as Tav wiped away the tears running down his cheeks. She kissed him again, holding his head in place against hers.

She nestled her face back into his neck and stood there in his arms for a few more moments, drinking in his scent. Tav knew there would be difficult conversations to come. They would have to face their spurned companions and even after all his help, she still wasn’t sure about Halsin’s feelings towards Astarion now. For a moment though, she purged the thoughts from her mind and relaxed into him. She allowed herself to be grateful that he found his way back into her arms, hopefully never to leave again.

[assblastergaster]

I am finally starting to see the light on just how robust all of the companion origin romances are (i.e. romances within the party outside of tav). While larian obvs had to work with sudden, abrupt story changes and losses, somehow they still managed to make all of their stories so intertwined that all possible romances are good.

Take Karlach for example:

• Wyll: Their stories are literal parallels; They both were following someone with power and influence, yearning to serve them and others to the best of their abilities—and were both discarded after being tricked into (literal) hell. together they provide for each other what was taken without denying themselves what has changed them (more devilish? so be it, i am stronger for it). She will guard what he loves without question—all he's ever tried to do—and he will stand against the forces that served to get them here, all she's ever wanted. They have both been forever changed to be more devilish (scarred, marked, horned, dehorned) but still yearn to thrive amongst their peers to no avail. He will always be a human with fangs and horns, and she will always be a tiefling with no horn(s), no heart. They are each other's only peers, the hunter and the prey.

• Shadowheart: One young girl is torn from the people she loves, her home, the authority figure she serves. She is marred by this person. Her parents are lost to her—she will never get to say goodbye, never get to hug them again. Her peers shun her, believe her dead or worse. Her only friends are lost to her (or so she thinks). She is a half-elf forcibly blinded to the ways of the world, sent on a suicide mission to secure her master's authority. She is a tiefling who has forgotten the joys of the world, escaping a suicide mission meant to secure her master's authority. They were both taught to selfishly strike out against the world to just survive. Together they find something alien to both of them—self prioritization without selfishness (I am not made to serve, i was made to be here. with you).

• Astarion: He is empty of life, cold and buried; She is being consumed by her life, toiling and burned. They were both, for lack of better words, Baldurian hot-shots in their youths. A learned magistrate and the head guard of an up-and-coming Baneite. They were both likely very corrupt. Astarion is obvious—his attack by the Gur was prob in response to prejudiced rulings. But Karlach was working for fucking Gortash. She's not an idiot, and while she certainly has a soft spot for the community, she had to have had a hand in his nefarious doings. Regardless, both of them are still furious about what happened to them, rightfully so—and neither is willing to accept (yet) that the version of them they left behind was not what they want now. They both want revenge, to kill the fucks that stole them away. And they both get it, only to find that they need to make a life after this, not to mourn the life before this.

• Lae'zel: This, like all Lae'zel romances, is a tale of two cities. Lae'zel wants to serve someone so badly, else she cannot prove to others (and herself) that she is worth the air she is breathing. Her culture demands it, history commands it, and she was born for it. But she can't do it. Not blindly. Karlach was a rough and tumble child on the streets of Baldur's Gate looking to eke out her livelihood without serving authority. But she couldn't avoid it, nothing she's good at could make money or earn respect except for serving as a guard, as a soldier. At first meeting, they both immediately respect and pity each other. Karlach likes seeing someone so proud of who they choose to serve, but innately understands that it is not a choice. Lae'zel likes seeing someone strong enough to command respect, but knows that she "should" want to serve someone too. They see themselves in the other. Neither understands, but they will. Karlach will see why Lae'zel is so desperate to belong, to serve—Lae'zel will see why she is too scared to submit.

• Gale: We both have a bomb in our chests. A divine being, omnipotent in all but name, placed it within you and quelled its fire so long as you obey and worship. The most obscene devil, queen of the Hells, ripped me from my home and gave me this, its flame fanned by servitude and snuffed by disobedience. Gale has lost himself to depression, Karlach to rage. He pours through books searching for the answer he will never find, but that's how he got here in the first place. Karlach smashes her way through everything, making ragtag enemies and allies along the way, but that's how she got here. Before anyone says some bullshit about Karlach being too "dumb" or Gale being too "pretentious;" Karlach is not dumb, she is naïve (which lends itself to dumb decisions) but wise. She's led an experience-rich life (encountered through misplaced trust and naivety) and has learned lessons from every single one, something she learns to temper within Gale as well. Gale has done many things but actually learned from very few of them, which is one of the reasons why he's immediately eager for the Crown. But he's also not an idiot, he's just vulnerable. Together, they balance each other emotionally and pedagogically.

Obviously this is focusing on the narrative aspects of these relationships—not the personal intricacies. But the majesty of this writing is that these are all characters written by separate people, forging separate stories with thousands of paths each. It's just unheard of.

[silent-words]

My Tavs | Part II

Part I is here

I decided to make a multi-chapter fic about my second Tav and her romance with Gale, so here I will be concise. (I will add the link here when I start publishing)

Laerie Haresque

Laerie is a high elf bard from the College of Lore. She comes from a respected elven family in the Upper City of Baldur's Gate, but due to family issues she doesn't keep in touch with them. Instead she gives herself fully to her work - music and poetry. Laerie has a soul of an entertainer, but she also loves magic and is proud of her own command of the Weave through her favourite lyre. She looks as a confident and chsrming bard, but underneath that facade... Well, she doesn't allow most people look that deep into her.

It was quite obvious that another person interested in magic and poetry would draw her attention. Gale was the only one of tadpals whom she could discuss her favourite topics with. That's how their relationship started.

[tavyliasin]

BG3 FicFeb SFW - Day 6

Another shorter one for the SFW side, but a sweet moment all the same. Short below the cut!

Day 6 - Teaching each other something new.

“Ow! Fuck…” Tav sucked the tip of her finger ruefully, an instinctive habit. 

“I would tell you to be more careful, darling, but it will only happen anyway.” Astarion laid down the shirt he was mending, ensuring the needle was safely woven into the fabric to hold it. “Let me see.” 

“Fine, it’s…it’s a mess is what it is.” She handed over the torn handkerchief she had been practising on, the thread on the underneath looking like a tangled mess. 

“Not terrible, for a first try. But you need to slow down, make sure it isn’t getting caught when you pull it through.” He unpicked the stitching carefully and began again. “Smooth motions, love, you’re not stabbing it. Follow the thread, feel it between your fingers to make sure no knots form, then mark the next entry point with as much care as you do your foes’ ribs.” Tav watched carefully, paying attention not only to what he was doing but how, the nuance in the grip of the needle, the way he seemed almost calm for a change. His brows were lowered in a slight frown but only of quiet concentration, until crimson eyes peered up at her again. 

She took the fabric back, trying to replicate the motions he made and earning herself another pricked finger. But with some perseverance and more gentle guidance she began to make progress.

By the end…well it was hardly embroidery of fine tailoring, but the tear was mended, as was a part of her shirt. Astarion’s stitching on the other rips was far neater, of course, but Tav felt quietly proud of the little line like a scar in the fabric healed by her own hand. 

Later she would find herself lingering on it when she washed the garment, remembering that night by the campfire when a soft voice had shown her there was still so much more to learn.