#i use gale as bait

[umbracirrus]

Do not jump down cliffs if it looks like there is treasure at the bottom of it.

It will be a mimic. Or three.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 13: You’re Not What I Would Call Nurturing

Anna gives birth and caring for a newborn is even harder than you expected. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 12, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mild near smut, non-graphic depiction of childbirth, childcare struggles. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 8.7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

April, 2018 

Gale had been holed up in his home office since you got home and your excitement was starting to exhaust your patience. 

He liked to have his space when he was writing. Then, so did you, and he respected it. Well, usually respected it. You did your best to do the same. But it had been hours now. You’d resigned yourself to having dinner alone, setting aside a plate for him, and waited for Gale to emerge so you could talk to him. It hadn’t happened, not even to use the bathroom or get a glass of water.

You set your book on your legs, rapping your fingers along the cover of it and worrying at your lip. You really didn’t want to sit here, holding everything in, any longer. 

You put in your bookmark and set the novel you’d barely been able to pay attention to aside, going to the kitchen for a bottle of sparkling water and a protein bar to bring your husband. 

“Hey you,” you smiled, peeking into his office after knocking once on the door. He glanced up from his desk, brows raised, head bent so low you could see where his hair was thinning.You came all the way into his office, walls lined with bookshelves and surfaces stacked high with paper. You held up the water and protein bar like an offering. “I haven’t heard you come out in a while and it’s getting late. Thought you should eat at least something tonight.” 

“Thanks,” he said, looking back down at the pages in front of him. You took it as permission to come closer, so you did, setting the food down next to his computer before perching on the edge of his desk. You crossed your ankles in front of you and held onto the desktop, rapping the underside of it with your fingernails in a sharp rhythm. 

Gale sighed, setting the page he was reading down and crossing his arms on his desktop, leaning on it before giving you a small smile as he looked up at you. 

“Something on your mind, baby doll?” He asked, brows raised, looking like he was trying his best to restrain his amusement. 

“Maybe,” you teased a little, not able to stop the smile on your face. “Remember how I had that doctor’s appointment earlier today?” 

“Think so,” he frowned. “Why? Did everything go well?” 

“It went great,” you smiled. “I actually… well, instead of it just being a check up, I asked her to check for a few things…” 

Gale frowned further before he took the bait. 

“Check for what?” He asked. 

“Check and see if I’m in a good place to have a baby,” you tried to keep from acting too excited about it but you were. You were practically giddy. “She said everything looked good. Great, in fact. And… well, I was thinking… you have that sabbatical coming up in, what, two years? Wouldn’t it be great if we could spend it together? I can take some time off, my book should be well and launched by then, you can work on your next book and we can spend a lot of time just you, me and… and a baby.” 

He watched you for a moment, an almost amused look on his face before he laughed a little. 

“Are you being serious?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” your smile faltered a bit. “Yeah, I figured that… you know, we’re not getting any younger, we’re at a good spot career wise, my body is apparently in prime baby making territory…” 

“Sure, the timing is great if we were going to do it but,” he laughed once and shook his head, turning his face to his lap for a moment before looking back to you, a serious expression on his face. He took your hands in his, giving them a squeeze. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but… Do you really think having children is a good idea for you?” 

You couldn’t stop your smile from falling this time, eyes searching his. 

“What?” You asked quietly. 

“Honey, just���” He sat back a little and sighed. “Look. You’re… I love you. That’s why I married you and you’re an extraordinary woman in so many ways. You make me the best possible version of myself and I’m grateful for that every day but… You’re not what I would call nurturing.” 

You frowned. 

“But…” 

“It’s not a bad thing, necessarily,” he said, as though you hadn’t spoken at all. “You’re just far more concerned with what’s in your head or on the page than about something like children. Do you really think you’d do a good job with a child? Be honest with yourself. Do you think you’d be able to make the sacrifices necessary and put them first? Or would you fail and make them pay the price? And then there’s everything with your mental health - we both know how you can get sometimes and you clearly got it from your mother - I doubt you want to pass that on to a child or burden one with it when you’re having a rough patch…” 

“But,” you said again, feeling the pinch of tears in your eyes. “I thought… don’t you want kids?” 

“Of course I do,” he shrugged. “But I decided I wanted you more. I went into this marriage with eyes wide open, I knew I wouldn’t be having children with you and I decided that you were worth the sacrifice.” 

You tried to keep from crying but felt a tear slip down your cheek, anyway, as you stared down toward your feet. 

“Hey,” he said, getting up and putting his hand to your nape, pulling your head up to look him in the eye. “It’s alright. I don’t hold it against you. I made my peace with it a long time ago. And it’s better if we just don’t have them instead of ruining them, right?” 

“Right,” you sniffed and he kissed you on the forehead before stepping back from you. 

“I’m going to try to finish this chapter research before bed,” he said. “I’m getting close but it’ll still be a bit, I’ll see you upstairs. Thank you for bringing me something to eat, I lost track of time.” 

“Sure,” you said, going to the door like you were on autopilot. You paused, your fingers on the knob before looking back at him. “I love you.” 

He was silent, looking over his papers, lost in his work again. 

“Gale?” 

“Hm?” He looked up, brows raised. 

“I love you.” 

“Oh,” he said absently, looking back down at the page. “I love you, too.” 

You looked at your husband for another second, trying to accept that he would not, in fact, be the father of your children before you left him to his writing and went to bed alone. 

April, 2023

You buried your face in his shoulder, straining to keep your nails from digging into his back, the cotton of his shirt bunching between your fingers as your hips canted up to grind against him. He licked and sucked at your neck, arms wrapped around your back, pressing your front tightly to his and he moaned as he worked his hard cock still trapped in his jeans down against your mound. 

“Fuck,” he panted, his mouth working his way over your neck to your jaw, wet on your tender skin and you tried to let yourself get in lost in him. 

It was hard, though. For one, you knew you should hold back. It wasn’t the right time to start sleeping with someone, life was too complicated without adding that into a relationship. For another, you hadn’t had sex since Gale and the thought of taking your clothes off in front of someone new made your heart race - and not in a good way. And, finally, there was something not quite right about him. 

Maybe it was his cologne, maybe it was the timbre of his voice, maybe it was the fact that he just didn’t feel right in your arms or between your legs but you just couldn’t make yourself want Stephen. 

At least, not in the way you wanted Joel. 

Not that you were proud of that. The opposite, in fact. You tried your damndest to bury that feeling deep and low inside yourself after the incident in Dallas. You didn’t WANT to want Joel. It hurt to want Joel. It always had and that didn’t change after that morning. 

You were still half entwined with Joel and trying not to panic when Sarah started knocking on the bedroom door, saying she was hungry and that she wanted to go somewhere that would have chocolate milk for breakfast and also could she try a coffee if you went to Starbucks since she was now basically a teenager and was tired after being out so late the night before at the concert. 

The two of you scrambled away from each other, your panties sticky and wet and you could feel the heat rising in your face. How could you have done this? Dry humped yourself to orgasm on your best friend? 

“It’s OK,” Joel said again, eyes wide and voice quiet. “Let’s just… we get back home and…” 

“Hey guys?” Sarah called through the door for the second time in as many minutes. “Is my Ears Tour shirt in there? I want to wear it.” 

“I got it baby girl,” Joel said, grabbing the bag and going for the door and then it was the three of you again. You weren’t alone with Joel until you stopped for gas in West, Sarah running inside to use the bathroom and start picking out kolache from the bakery case while Joel filled up the truck. 

His eyes darted over to you, like you were something volatile and unknown, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. 

“Look,” he said eventually, decidedly not looking at you. “What… what happened… Goldie, I… You should know…” 

“It’s fine,” you cut him off quickly. You didn’t think you could bear hearing him say what a mistake you were for the umpteenth time in your life. “Like you said, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Right?” 

He looked at you then - actually looked at you, his brown eyes warm and deep and soft - something almost sad on his face that passed so quickly you weren’t sure it happened at all. 

“Right,” he said after a moment. “You’re right.” 

“I’d rather this didn’t…” you tried to find the words. “I really don’t want this to blow things up with you this time. I don’t want to go no contact or… whatever it is that happens with us when… when we…” 

“It’s alright,” he cut you off, turning to watch the numbers tick up on the gas pump. “We just… pretend it never happened.” 

“Right,” you said. 

“Right,” he said back and you headed inside to find Sarah. 

When you made it back to Austin, you hugged Sarah goodbye, picked up Puck and gathered your stuff from the back of the truck, Joel carrying your bag to your car for you. 

“I know we said pretend it never happened,” he said after he’d put your duffle in the back seat. “But… I think it might be good if we had some space.” 

“Space?” You asked, your heart sinking. 

“Just… just a few days,” he said. “I think… I think I need it. Just a few days, though.” 

“A few days,” you said, hesitant. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I just… I gotta get my shit right.” 

You didn’t really know what to say to that so you just nodded. Joel looked relieved. 

“Thanks,” he said awkwardly. “I… I really don’t want to lose you again, Goldie.” 

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” you said. 

“Good,” he said, turning and going toward his house before turning to face you, walking backwards as he did. “See you soon.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Sure, Joel.” 

“Like… Like two days,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“OK.” 

“Three, tops.” 

“Three tops,” you repeated. 

You went home and tried to distract yourself. You unpacked right away, put a grocery order in on Instacart and sat on the floor, shining a laser pointer on your legs and watching Puck try to pounce on it. Joel needed space. What the fuck did that mean? Why would he need space if it didn’t matter? 

It did matter to you. That’s why space was probably a good idea for you. You didn’t want it but it was a good idea. You clearly couldn’t be trusted within a few feet of Joel without losing your fucking mind so space was smart. But why did Joel need it? 

He wasn’t into you, at least not in the way you were into him. He’d made that plenty clear over the years. Every time something had happened, it was a mistake. You were a mistake. But… it kept happening. Did he want to fuck you against his better judgement? He’d always been a physical guy, with you and anyone else he cared about. He’d jumped from girl to girl in high school and, judging from the fact that Sarah existed but her mom was long gone, you figured he’d done the same after you’d gone away until responsibility came knocking. 

Maybe everything between the two of you had just been a carry over from that. You knew he loved you as a friend and you were happy with that, you really were. Maybe it was just his affection for you and the fact that he wasn’t getting laid anywhere else that made him keep doing things he regretted with you and you were so, so tired of being something he regretted. 

“Hey,” you said, scooping your cat up so his head was level with yours, a look of indignity on his small orange face. “Why am I like this? Why do I keep doing this to myself?” 

He just pressed one pink-padded paw to your nose and you sighed. 

“Well if you don’t have an answer…” you trailed off before kissing his little cat head and setting him back down. 

You gave Joel the space he wanted. You didn’t call, you didn’t text, you didn’t even send him the stupid video you saw on TikTok that made you think of him. 

In the mean time, you tried to write your book even though seemed to delete everything not long after it was down on the page. You saw Stephen. You tried not to text Gale. And, when Joel did text a few days later - just a picture of the Whataburger menu with a question mark - it made you feel better than you had in days. 

Things went back to business as usual after that. You never talked about what happened in the hotel room with Joel. You certainly didn’t mention it to Stephen. You just tried your best to ignore the fact that the best orgasm you’d had in years happened as you fucked yourself against your best friend’s dick when you were half asleep. 

But as much as you tried to pretend like that hadn’t happened, your body knew that it had. Joel had smelled so good and felt so good and Stephen just didn’t compare. No matter how much you wanted him to. 

“We should stop,” you panted, voice drawn tight, hands moving to brace against Stephen’s chest. He groaned and went limp on top of you and you laughed. 

“You’re killin’ me woman,” he said, sitting up from you enough to kiss you softly on the lips before moving to the other end of the couch and awkwardly adjusting his jeans. 

“I know,” you winced as you sat up, too, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m basically moving in with my sister tomorrow and I’ll be there for who knows how long while she gets settled with the baby and it’s just… it’s not the right time and…” 

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching out and giving your foot a squeeze. “You don’t have to explain it. You said you needed to go slow, I’m OK with that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel ready for.” 

You smiled a little, willing your heart to at least try and flutter at this kind, smart, handsome man who was saying and doing all the right things. 

“Thank you,” you said. “That really does mean a lot.” 

“Hope things go well for your sister,” he said. “And not just because, selfishly, I know I get you back sooner if it does.” 

“Good to know you care about the welfare of infants outside your personal gain,” you said wryly, smirking a little. 

He laughed. 

“I know, it’s what makes me such a good guy,” he said. “When’s Anna due again?” 

“Two weeks from tomorrow,” you sighed. 

“Isn’t you basically moving in tomorrow then a bit early?” He frowned. 

“Well, she might come early,” you said. “It sounds like she’s going to be a big baby. Trust me, I’m not exactly eager to go stay with my sister but…” 

“You might like it more than you think,” he said. You looked at him, skeptical. He laughed. “Family’s weird that way.” 

“One can hope,” you said. 

You walked him out, kissing him goodbye at the door and wishing you felt something more as you did. Before you went to bed, you looked through your bags to make sure you had everything you needed and, eventually, settled in with your phone in hand, Puck curling up next to you. He nuzzled into the crook of your elbow, tucking his tail into his body before taking a  deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“What do you have to sigh about?” You asked. He adjusted, spreading his little toes out before settling again. “A likely story.” 

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone when you got a text from Joel with a photo attached. You opened it. He was in bed, too, with the TV on, the first Curtis and Viper on the screen. 

The TV edit is bullshit. 

You laughed a little. 

You can just put on the copy you own, you know. 

Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? And then I’d have to get up… much rather watch Curtis say “get plucked” 50 times than do that. 

You snorted.

Lazy ass. 

Lazy ass? I’m getting old, respect your elders. 

“Jesus,” you said to yourself, shaking your head. 

You hesitated for a second, debating about what to say next. Eventually, you just bit the bullet. 

I miss you. 

There was a pause before he texted back, long enough that you wondered if you should try to take it back, maybe make a joke of it. And then, he responded. 

I miss you too, Goldie. 

You were trying to figure out how to respond when he called you. 

“It’s pushing midnight,” you said by way of greeting. 

“Way past my old man bedtime,” he agreed. “Channel 62.” 

You sighed but turned on the TV all the same, finding the station just in time to hear Curtis say “get plucked” to some henchman before gunning him down. 

“Oh that’s bad,” you laughed. 

“Told you.”

You watched the movie with Joel that way for a while, laughing and joking and providing commentary on the stupider parts until the love scene came on. You fidgeted in your bed, the campy sequence somehow still arousing because you knew Joel was listening. 

“You’re going to tell me when she has the baby, right?” He said as the couple on screen undressed each other. 

“I can tell you,” you smiled a little. “Assuming Anna doesn’t change her mind about that.” 

“Good,” Joel said. “Haven’t held a baby in a while, I miss it.” 

“Awww big bad Joel Miller secretly loves babies,” you teased, trying not to picture Joel holding a tiny Sarah because you thought your heart might explode if you did. “Who knew?” 

“Hey, babies are cute as hell,” he said, mockingly defensive. “And they smell good. And they make these adorable little noises. Am I supposed to not love babies? What am I, a monster?” 

“I will let you abuse your connection to me to snuggle my niece,” you smiled a little.

“Yeah, you better,” you could hear him smiling, too. 

You switched off your lamp but let the TV on and laid down, Puck looking at you indignantly before adjusting so he was curled against your chest. 

“You know if Anna or, you know if… if you need help with her,” Joel said, almost hesitantly. “You can always call me. It took a while to know what to do but I like to think I got pretty good at the single parent thing.” 

You smiled a little, feeling overly tired. 

“You’re very good at it.”

“Got the world’s greatest dad mug and everything to prove it,” he said. “I know it seems like a lot right now, Goldie, but it will be OK. Promise it will.” 

Your eyes got heavy during the climax of the movie, laughing sleepily with Joel and nodding off before the credits. It was a few hours later when an unnaturally loud commercial jerked you awake, your phone still sitting next to your head on the pillow. 

You groaned and sat up, turning off the TV. Puck had moved, probably bounding through the house somewhere at some imagined prey, and you got up to use the bathroom, bringing your phone with you. Out of curiosity, you checked the time the call with Joel had ended but frowned. Judging from the length, it seemed like it went on for a while after you’d fallen asleep. You went to text him but, instead, found a series of texts from Anna. 

Hey, are you still up? 

Guess not… FYI, feeling weird. 

There was a break and then another text had come through just half an hour earlier. 

OK these are either those fake contraction things or I’m in labor

“Oh fuck,” you said to yourself, quickly going to wash your hands before calling her but she beat you to it, your phone springing to life on your vanity, the vibration making it jump across the marble. You wiped your hand quickly on your pajamas and answered. 

“Not the fake contractions!” Anna said quickly instead of a hello. “Sorry, I know 4 a.m. isn’t a great time but…” 

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” you said, walking quickly to your bedroom and taking off your pajama pants as best as you could with one hand. “How far apart are they?” 

“Eight minutes?” She said more like a question. “I think? But they’re strong enough that I can’t talk or walk during…” 

“OK we have a little time,” you said, breathing a little easier as you grabbed a clean pair of underwear and leggings from your drawer. “I’m just throwing my clothes on, my bags are already packed, I’ll be there so soon. Just… unlock your front door and lie down on the couch and I’ll be right there.” 

“I can do that,” she said, sounding a little panicked. “Thank you. For everything, I couldn’t do this on my own, I know I couldn’t and just… thank you.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Of course,” you said. “OK, I’m going to let you go but I’ll see you soon. You’ve got this, Anna. You do.” 

You got dressed as quickly as you could before checking that Puck’s food and water bowl would be at least set for the day and jogging to your car, bags in hand. 

Anna had done as you’d asked, unlocking her door so you didn’t need to fumble with keys in the dark and you found her in the middle of a contraction on her couch when you came in, grimacing and moaning in pain with her hands around the bottom of her stomach as she did. 

“Hey, you’re OK,” you said, running to the couch and kneeling at her side. “Want my hand?” 

She nodded frantically and you held it out. She squeezed it so tight you thought your knuckles might crack. As the contraction lessened, she took a deep breath, her face already shiny with sweat. “Think we can get you sat up and moved to the car?” 

“Yeah,” she said. “But watch out, my water broke when I was unlocking the door, it’s wet over there.” 

You almost laughed at that. 

“That’s alright,” you said, helping her sit up. “It’s tile, think it will live. We’ll get you to the car and I’ll mop when we’re home with you and baby girl. You ever going to tell me her name?” 

“I want to meet her first,” she said. “Think it’s weird for someone else to know her name before she does.” 

“Makes sense,” you nodded, looping her arm around your shoulders and notching yourself into her underarm. “Ready?” 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

“Then let’s go have a baby.” 

Her contractions were seven minutes apart when you reached the hospital and they got her back to a labor and delivery room quickly, hooking her up to what seemed like countless machines as you sat there and watched, feeling more helpless than you had since you watched your marriage fall to pieces at your feet. 

You realized, as Anna labored and nurses walked her through it, just how much you’d grown accustomed to being able to take things on for her. When she had an issue with her phone bill couldn’t figure it out? You called and handled it. When she wanted an NA meeting closer to her office? You tracked one down. When she was shopping for everything for the nursery? You looked up the safety ratings and handed over your credit card at Buy Buy Baby. It had always been that way. When her grades tanked, you tutored her. When she had a bully at school, you stepped in. When she wanted a snack while your mom was at work, you made it. If you could do it for Anna, you did. This was different. This, you couldn’t do for her. 

But you did everything you could. You did everything they taught you in lamaze classes and gave her ice chips and got the nurse when she needed help you couldn’t provide. Still, you felt decidedly useless when, more than 12 hours after you got to the hospital, her daughter came into the world with sharp, angry little cries. She was slick and red and wailing, tufts of dark hair on her tiny head, her small limbs flung out from her little body and she was beautiful.

“Congratulations, Mama,” the doctor smiled, putting the baby on Anna’s chest. “It’s a girl.” 

Anna sobbed and smiled as she held her daughter, cradling her close. 

“Hi there little one,” she whispered down to her. “I can’t believe you’re here.” 

The baby cried even louder, the sound sharp and cracking, and Anna laughed wetly. 

“Yeah,” she said. “You tell ‘em, Ellie.” 

“Ellie?” You asked, trying to keep from fully crying but failing miserably. 

“Yeah,” she said, still looking down at the tiny figure in her arms. “Ellie.” 

The three of you got to know each other, Ellie rarely resting anywhere but in either of your arms. A few friends of Anna’s came by to meet her and Joel and Sarah did, too, Joel texting to ask what Anna was craving after spending the day in labor. 

“Fried chicken!” She said. “With everything. And Dr. Pepper. Maybe a milkshake? Oh, and a burger if it’s not too much trouble.” 

The two of them came with bags of food so comically large you couldn’t help but laugh as they brought them in, Sarah trailing balloons along behind her. 

“Someone saw these in the gift shop so we had to stop for them,” Joel said, nodding to the balloons as he set down the heaping piles of food. “Here, baby girl, gimme those…” 

He tied them off on the rail of Anna’s bed while Sarah fawned over the sleeping newborn. 

“She’s so small,” she gaped down at her. “That’s insane.” 

Joel came and stood behind her, putting a large hand on her shoulder. 

“You were that size once, baby girl,” he said, sounding a little choked up. “You were a tiny thing, seemed like you fit in the palm of my hand.” 

“That’s just because you have freakishly large hands,” you said. 

“Shut it,” he gave you a look and you smiled. 

While you and Anna ate, Joel showed carefully showed Sarah how to hold a baby, how to support her tiny head and how babies liked when you moved with them. 

“See?” He said, sitting next to you on the little couch beneath the window as Sarah delicately cradled little Ellie. “You got it.” 

“That’s just because she’s perfect,” she said, staring down at the baby before her eyes went wide with excitement and she looked between her dad and Ellie’s mom. “Can I babysit? I promise, I’ll take such good care of her and…” 

“We can talk about that when both of you are a little older,” Joel laughed. “Glad to know you’re ready to start contributing to the household though. Have to start charging you rent…” 

“Ha ha,” she rolled her eyes before looking back to the baby. 

Joel held her next and you couldn’t help but stare at him as he did. He seemed so impossibly large compared to her, able to hold the tiny bundle that was your niece easily in his large hands, a look of awe and total adoration on his face as he did. But he was so beautiful, too. The gentle way he held her, the way he looked at her, the way he just seemed to be so happy to be caring for something so vulnerable, it made your heart ache with a want you’d long ago tried to set aside.

“He’s such a sucker for babies,” Sarah said, perching on the couch next to you and helping herself to a french fry. “He’s so weird.” 

“Must be because you were a perfect kid from birth,” you teased and Sarah smiled, smug, as Joel scoffed. 

“Please, if anything it’s in spite of her,” he said, still staring down at Ellie. “She had colic, seemed to love to pee right as I was changin’ her…” 

“Hey!” Sarah said. 

“But you were still the most amazing thing I’d ever seen,” he said, looking at his daughter before looking back to Ellie. “This one might be a close second, though. Good job, Mama.” 

“Thank you,” Anna said proudly, sitting up a little straighter. “Actually, would you mind giving her to me? I’m going to try and nurse…” 

“Alright, I’ll hand her over and I won’t make you fight me for her but only because you just gave birth,” he said. “Next time though…” 

Anna laughed good naturedly as Joel gently laid the baby in her arms. 

“Alright, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s get out of their hair, give them some time to relax.” 

He and Sarah gathered up the trash from dinner and you walked them to the elevator, Sarah pressing her face against the nursery window to look at the babies as you went. 

“And how are you doing?” He asked as he waited for the elevator. 

“Me?” You asked, brows raised. “I’m fine, I didn’t just push a human being out of my body.” 

Joel laughed a little.

“I know but still. It’s a lot. You OK?” 

You thought for a moment about how powerless you’d felt as Anna brought Ellie into the world, how you wished your mother had been here because she was better equipped than you’d ever be, how you didn’t know how to help raise her without finding some way to ruin her. 

“I’m alright,” you said instead of saying any of that. “I’ll get them home and settled and then we’ll just… see how it goes, I guess?” 

“That’s all you can do,” he said, watching you with an almost soft look in his eyes. “Meant what I said before. Don’t matter what time it is, don’t matter what you need, we’ll figure it out. Did it before, I can do it again. And so can you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, letting yourself almost fall into him. He hesitated for a moment but wrapped himself around you, his arms almost swallowing you. 

“You’ve got this, Goldie girl,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Know you do.” 

He had to practically drag Sarah away from looking at all the babies and as you watched the elevator doors close, you wondered what you’d ever done without him. 

Anna and Ellie were released the next day and you drove them to Anna’s house at a snail’s pace, trying to press the break as gently as possible when approaching a light so you wouldn’t jostle the precious cargo in the back seat. 

At first, things went well. Or as well as it could when there were two people with basically no experience with children trying to care for an infant. Ellie didn’t need much, after all. She mostly slept, ate and pooped. 

And cried. She definitely, definitely cried. 

By day three, you were starting to get worried about the lack of sleep for both you and for Anna. You knew how exhausted you felt, how delayed your movements seemed as you tried to go through your routine on just two or three hours of sleep for the third day in a row. Anna, you knew, had to have it worse. She’d just given birth, after all, and was still recovering. On top of that, she was nursing Ellie. 

Or she was trying to, at least. 

After you’d left the hospital, Ellie had been reluctant to latch. She’d been doing an OK job of it before but now she seemed to do nothing but reject her mother’s breast or pull away quickly while wailing, her small face scrunching and getting red as she screamed. 

“I know, I know, I know,” Anna said in the afternoon on the fourth day, bouncing Ellie on her shoulder and sounding on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, I’m trying! I know you’re hungry, I know!” 

“Maybe we can do formula?” You said, anxiously picking at a ragged cuticle as you watched your sister pace. “It’s better if she eats at all…” 

“I should be able to fucking do this!” Anna snapped. “I’m her goddamn mother, I should be able to feed her!” 

“You can,” you said, trying to soothe her. “Just… do the formula, I’ll make up a bottle, at least until we can get in to see the lactation specialist. That’s what it’s for. It’s OK, then you’re feeding her…”

“No, you’re feeding her,” she spat. “You bought the formula! You bought the formula and her crib and her goddamn onesie! Because I fucking failed at that, too!” 

“You didn’t fail at anything!” You said. Anna had stopped bouncing Ellie and her cries got louder. “I know it’s hard right now but it’s going to get better, it is.” 

“I need a break,” she stalked over to you, passing the baby off and all but storming out of the room. You bounced Ellie, who kept wailing, and you resisted the urge to cry yourself before going to make her a bottle. 

It was that afternoon, one of the few hours a day that Ellie wasn’t crying and was instead sleeping - but not content to do it anywhere but on your chest - that you checked your phone. You had some general messages from Joel, check ins and funny pictures and offers to bring by dinner, and an update from Alyssa with information about the classes she was covering for you. There was also a text from Gale, one that sounded almost ominous. 

I think I’ll always regret how things played out with you. 

You frowned and considered texting back. You’d sent him basically nothing in months, only responding when he had a question about something related to the divorce - even though you knew that should really be going through your attorneys, but it was so hard to resist talking to him when you had the excuse. This text, however, seemed different. 

You opened Facebook, hoping to go to his page and find some kind of hint but you didn’t even need to go that far. Sitting at the top of your newsfeed was a picture he’d been tagged in just a few hours ago, his arm around your younger, prettier replacement except, in this picture, her stomach was round, a blue dress tight over the swell near her hips as he looked at her, a tranquil smile on his face. 

“Our soon to be party of three!” She had written on the post. “Baby boy Newton, coming this July!” 

You just stared at your phone, heart racing as your stomach felt hollowed out. Gale was having a baby. Something you’d always wanted but he said was a bad idea, had really only been a bad idea because it was with you. You’d always secretly hoped that it was just an excuse, that he didn’t really want children but that wasn’t it. It was you. You were the problem. 

Ellie stirred from her place against your chest, starting to squirm and you could feel her start getting herself worked up. 

“It’s OK baby girl,” you said, your voice thick and wet. “Let’s see how you’re doing, see if you need a diaper and if we can let your mom sleep a little while longer, OK?” 

As you tried to calm her down, you couldn’t help but remember what Gale had told you. How you weren’t nurturing, how you couldn’t be selfless enough, how you’d ruin a child. How could you pretend like he was wrong? As you clutched tight to your screaming, squirming niece and tried to get her to settle or eat, how could you say that you would do anything but fail her? 

“Are you OK?” Anna asked a little while later when she emerged, groggy, from her room to find you with red eyes and a tear-streaked face and her daughter in your arms. 

“Fine,” you said, bouncing Ellie. “I’m fine.” 

You couldn’t tell her what Gale had said - Gale had known - about you. Not right now, not when Anna was already stressed and worried enough. You’d just have to deal with it and with the crying baby who was in your care.

And Ellie basically never stopped crying. You’d get a few hours of blessed quiet in a day but it seemed like, if she was conscious, she was screaming. You were coming up on the end of the first two weeks of her life with little understanding as to why she wasn’t able to settle and you needed to get back to work for a few days to finish out the semester. 

“You’re seriously going to leave me here with her?” Anna asked, her eyes wide. 

“Just for a week,” you said. “I have to do exam review, final project presentations and office hours before exam week. I have to, Anna, I’m sorry. I can see if I can find a nanny for a few days…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “Don’t. I can do this. I need to be able to do this.” 

“If you start feeling overwhelmed,” you frowned but she cut you off. 

“She’s my daughter,” she said. “I can take care of my own damn daughter.” 

Anna insisted you go home for the work week, wanting to try things on her own since you were going to be gone all day, anyway. You brought your bags so you could do laundry and pack a fresh round of clothes and you found yourself reveling in the silence of your home when you walked into it, closing your eyes and soaking it in. 

Joel had picked up Puck while you were at Anna’s and he said he was down to keep him for a while but, after a few hours, it was strange, rattling around your house without another soul in it. No crying baby, no frustrated sister, no playful cat. Just you and your exhaustion as you collapsed into bed. 

You checked in on Anna in the afternoons after work and, on Wednesday, went to Joel’s for dinner, Sarah begging you to sneak her more Sprite when Joel got up to use the bathroom halfway through. 

“Don’t tell your dad,” you said, filling up her cup from the two liter in the fridge. 

“Your secret is safe with me,” she smiled before chugging the first half of the soda before Joel made it back to the table. 

You sat on the couch with Joel after dinner, Puck purring furiously on your lap after giving you the silent treatment for the first hour you were there. 

“If my kid can’t sleep tonight, that’s on you,” he said as he settled in. 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because you’re the one who let her have more sugar,” he said as Swiftie jumped on his lap and he started absently petting her. You gaped at him. “Don’t look so shocked. I’ve learned to watch the levels in the Coke bottles around this house with that kid.” 

“She could be doing actual coke, you know,” you said. 

“At 11?” 

You nodded. 

“You’ve got it easy,” you said. 

He laughed. 

“Suppose I do,” he said. “How’s it going with Ellie?” 

“She’s still crying like crazy,” you sighed. “It’s constant…”

“I told you I can come help!” He said, incredulous. 

“I know!” You replied. “But Anna doesn’t WANT help, she’s insisting she can do it. I’m worried about her, I don’t know how clearly she’s thinking right now…” 

“Given how sleep deprived she is?” Joel raised his brows. “Probably not very.” 

“I’m this close to just having you come over anyway, whether she likes it or not,” you said. “I don’t want her completely losing herself to this.” 

“Bring the kid here for a bit and give her a break,” Joel said. “I can watch ‘er, or I can come there…” 

“I appreciate it,” you sighed. “I’ll bring that up to her tomorrow. We have Ellie’s next check up in the afternoon, we’ll see how she’s doing. Maybe the doctor will have a good suggestion, who knows.” 

“Hope so,” Joel said. “It’ll be OK. Promise you, it will.” 

You almost told Joel about Gale then. About him having a baby with another woman because one of the only people who had ever been able to see you - really, truly see you - saw how bad you would be at this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. 

Despite Joel’s promise, it didn’t feel like it was going to be OK. Especially not at Ellie’s check up the next afternoon. She had lost a few ounces, moving down the track for weight percentile, and Anna looked like she was about to cry. 

“She won’t nurse,” she said, her voice thick. “She doesn’t like the formula, what do I do?” 

The doctor gave her some advice that you wrote down, a glassy look on Anna’s face, and drove home, worried that the doctor needed to see Ellie back in less than a week. 

“I’m going to ruin my kid,” Anna said when you got her home, Ellie blessedly asleep in her carseat, the only time you could reliably get her to pass out in the back of the car. “I can’t even feed her right, I’m going to destroy her when all I want to do is do the right thing for her.” 

“It’ll be OK,” you said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I can stay over tonight…” 

“No,” she shook her head. “May as well finish the week out, right?” 

“Sure,” you said uncertainly, “If you change your mind, just call me. I’ll be over in like 10 minutes, just call.” 

“Right,” she said, giving you a tight smile before walking you out. “I’m sure it will all work out.” 

You felt off all evening as you reviewed the final, frantic emails from students as the semester wound down. You should never have come home like this, you should have just gone to work and gone to Anna’s after whether she liked it or not. You seriously considered packing up and heading over that second but just chewed on the inside of your cheek instead. It was late. You’d be back the next night. Less than 24 hours. Closer to 18 hours, actually. What could really go wrong in 18 hours? 

You went back to work but only lasted another few minutes when Anna texted you. 

Are you at home? 

You frowned at the phone. 

Yeah, what’s up? Need me to come over? 

She didn’t respond. You drummed your pen against the edge of your desk and tried to hold yourself back from replying. She had an infant at home, after all. She wasn’t staring at her phone. 

But after five minutes, you texted again. 

Is everything OK? Is Ellie OK? Are you OK? 

You stared at the screen, willing her to respond. Another few minutes passed when you saw the bubble pop up, saying she was typing. 

Check your front porch. 

You frowned, picking up your phone and going to respond when another message appeared. 

I’m so sorry. 

“Anna?” You said, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. Your heart raced as you frantically called her. It rang once and then went to voicemail. “Fuck!” 

You sprinted for your front door, grabbing your keys from the bowl in your entryway and ripping the door open and you stopped in your tracks. 

Sitting there, on your front stoop and in her carseat and next to a diaper bag, was Ellie. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you said softly, picking up the carrier and folding the handle back, carrying her gently inside and setting the carseat on the kitchen table. “Just going to make sure you’re all OK…” 

You pulled back the blanket that had been tucked around her. She was all strapped into the carrier, her little legs and arms pulled in tight to her torso. You almost cried in relief when you saw her tiny chest rising and falling. 

“So where’s your mama baby girl?” You asked, watching her as you pulled up Anna’s number and dialed again. This time it rang out. You weren’t sure if that was better or worse. 

You tried to keep calm as you texted her. 

If you don’t answer I’m calling 911.

You gave her a few seconds to see the message before you called her and she picked up on the first ring this time. 

“I told you, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice wet. 

“Sorry for what?” You asked. “Anna, just… just come here, we can talk about this…” 

“Talk about what?” She cut you off. “About the fact that I can’t do anything right by my own kid? I can’t even fucking feed her right, you heard the doctor today…” 

“We can figure it out,” you said quickly. “Doing… whatever it is you’re doing is not the answer. Just come here, we’ll take care of it together, we always do and…” 

“No, no there is no we,” she said. “You always fix it, you always handle it, not me. I’m just ruining her, I’m bad for her, I’m not capable of this. She should be yours not mine, she’s… she deserves better than me and…” 

“No,” you said, trying not to panic. “No, you’re her mother, what she needs is you! Anna, don’t do this, don’t…” 

“It’s not forever,” she said. “I’m just… I’m going away for a little while. I need to be better for her. I’ll come back when I can. Take care of her for me, OK?” 

“Anna, no, Anna don’t-“ 

You didn’t get a chance to finish. She hung up and you frantically tried to call her back but it just went straight to voicemail. 

“Fuck,” you teared up, looking down at your infant niece in her carrier. She was so small, she needed so much, so much you weren’t capable of giving her. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this afraid of anything, all the hope and potential carried in Ellie’s tiny body now resting on your shoulders. What were you supposed to do with all of that? When all you were capable of was failing?

You were about to do the only thing he could think to do - call Joel - when Ellie made one of her small noises, one that came just before she started crying and, sure enough, half a second later, she was wailing, her little legs kicking out as she did. 

“Hey now,” you said, desperate to soothe her. “You’re OK baby girl. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.” 

Anna had, at least, left the base to the carseat and a container of formula with the diaper bag on your porch. That, plus the things you’d stocked your house with so you could take Ellie for a few hours or even a day if Anna needed, made it so you could look after her without needing to make a store run for a day or two. You tried to focus on looking after her as best you could even though you had never felt so lost before in your life.

You moved all your office hours for Friday to virtual and did your best to take them with Ellie there, but it was hard. She was inconsolable all day. Every now and then, she would settle against you but then she seemed to realize that you were wrong. You didn’t feel like her mother or smell like her mother and you weren’t who was supposed to be taking care of her. It was like she could sense the thing about yourself that scared you most.

Things got worse as the day wore on. You’d been up with her all night and you’d had to take advantage of her brief periods of sleep to work that day and it seemed like she was getting more and more upset as the night wore on. She shoved her bottle away, her tiny face scrunched tight as she screamed. 

“Come on,” you said, crying right alongside her. “You… you have to eat something, I know I’m not your mom but you can’t just… you have to eat, please just eat something I promise you’ll feel better if you do.” 

She didn’t listen. She just cried in your arms and all you could think about was what Gale had told you. He’d been right about so many things, of course he was right about this, too. 

“Maybe you’re just too worked up,” you said, carrying her to her car seat and setting her gently inside it. “Just… going to try to calm you down, maybe then it’ll be OK.” 

You didn’t know if that would work but you were desperate. You carried her to the car and triple checked that she was secure before just driving. She liked the car, she always quieted down in the car. This had to help. It had to. 

Something had to. 

But it didn’t. You weren’t sure just how long you’d been driving aimlessly, Ellie wailing in the back seat, but you couldn’t keep doing this. Not to her. 

You weren’t sure how but you found yourself outside Joel’s house. It was dark outside, the glow of light from inside the houses on his street warm and welcoming and you wished, desperately, that you belonged with that light. That you could be somewhere soft and nurturing and where Ellie would be cared for the way she deserved, not the way you managed to ruin everything you touched. 

You gave up on stopping your own tears. Instead, you got out of the car and unhooked Ellie’s carseat from the base, looping your arm through the handle and carrying it to Joel’s front door. You knocked, even though you were sure he could hear the baby crying, and it was only a few seconds before he opened it. 

“Goldie?” He asked, looking you up and down, his eyes soft and wide. “What’s going on? What…” 

“Please, Joel,” you said, holding the carrier tightly against yourself. “I need your help.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: Poor Goldie, Ellie and Anna! Stuff is ROUGH for them right now but don't worry, Joel is now on the scene.

We'll just have to see what a lot of stress and desperation from Goldie while Joel is being hot and paternal makes happen 👀

OK LOVE YOU BYEEEEEE!

Also thank you for reading because you're the best. Truly.

OK now love you bye ❤️

[storiesfromafan]

Look Who's Jealous Now - Benny x Reader

A/N: I was surprised by the amount of interest in the sneak peak I posted got. Thank you all!! Forgive any grammer or spelling mistakes 😅

Previous part: Jealousy Does Look Good On You 😊

Also, I posted this challenge. Feel free to check it out and make a request 😊😊

Tag list: @strayrockette @thegabbyh

Being Benny's girl meant being by his side, arm around you or his jacket. His stormy blue eyes seeking you out in the bar, sparkling when finding you sitting with Kathy or other Vandal women. Him picking you up after work. And taking you for rides on his bike.

Which led to today's Vandal ride. A group of you going to a car show. Those that didn't ride, gave the bikers looks of disgust or distaste. All the while, other biker clubs gave some sign of recognition. You found it all fascinating, how bike owners and car owners didn’t get along. But there were a few exceptions.

You were sitting on a blanket with a few other women, Benny was standing near by with Johnny in conversation. Both men drink in hand and laughing at something Johnny said. You smiled at your man, admiring the boyish smile on his face, or when he'd laugh. Then those eyes were looking at you, as if he'd felt your gaze on him. Benny gave you a soft warm smile, which had you melting.

“Give it a rest, will ya" jested Betty, pushing your shoulder.

Braking eye contact with Benny, you looked back to the older woman, as well as Kathy and Gale as they laughed at you. After that night a month ago, hearing what happened with Benny after you took off. The women had teased you on and off. And every time you and Benny gave each other the goo-goo eyes, one of them told you to give it a rest. You couldn't help it, you were in the early stages of this relationship.

“Sorry my happiness offends ya" you retorted sticking your tongue out.

Once more the women laughed, this time you joined in with them. You felt light and happy. From both the women around you, but also because of Benny. If someone had told you a month ago this was what was install for you, you wouldn’t have believed them. Right now you were happy, even if the road to get here was crazy.

Benny watched how you laughed with the other women. Smiling happily that you were having a good time. For him this month has felt like being on the open road, content and freeing. Finally making you his girl made him feel complete. But also, part of him still felt bad for upsetting you that night. It wasn’t his intentions when being around Angela. But he didn’t feel bad for using her to bait your outburst. He liked that you’d been jealous, made him feel good to know you wanted him, just as much as he wanted you.

“Stop it with the goo-goo eyes, will ya” Johnny said with a roll of his eyes, bringing Benny’s attention back to the older man. “Ya makin’ me sick, kid”. He joked with a laugh.

Benny laughed, sticking his free hand in his jeans pockets. “Whatever old man".

Johnny smile warmly at the younger Vandal. “Nuh, I’m happy for ya, both of ya. It was ‘bout time ya made her ya girl. You’d both been tippy-toein’ around it".

Benny felt embarrassed hearing those words. Because it was true. But you were different to all the other girls – women – for Benny didn’t want to show off and take you just on a ride of his bike. That would have been to easy. That’s why he spent the time with you, talking with you. He wanted to know you. And he did. But then he got nervous and somewhat shy to ask you out. He found himself second guessing himself.

Benny told you that, opening up to you as best her could. And since then you have done everything to reassure him that you wanted him. If you could tell Benny was starting to doubt or second guess himself, you’d be there, doing everything to show him he was good enough or right. Then when it came to you, Benny was pushing you out of your comfort zone also. The best example of that was when you’d ride with him. He’d go so fast on the open road that you would be cursing, telling him to slow down. But he’d always say you’ve got nothin' to worry about sweetheart, I won’t let anythin' happen to ya. And you would believe him. You always will.

“Yeah...she’s really somethin'" Benny said with pride, his eyes going back to you.

You got up from your spot on the blanket, along with Kathy. You both needed to use the restroom. The short walk was filled with conversation and laughter. Kathy being one of the women you were closest too. You thought she was nice and honest, no beating around the bush with her.

After doing what you both had too, you began to walk back to the others, only taking your time to look at the cars in passing. Neither of you knew much to do with cars, but you admired their looks.

“Such a nice colour" Kathy commented on the current car you were both looking at.

You nodded. “It really is, bet she sounds good too".

“You should see her on the road" came a familiar male voice from behind you.

You turned around in shock to see your old family friend Victor. You smiled brightly, taking in how he had changed since you had seen him last, which was before he went back to college. He looked fitter, and tanner. No doubt from playing football. He was the boy next door mixed with jock.

“Victor! My gosh!” You said with amazement, before moving to give him a quick hug. “How have ya been?”

Victor laughed as he hugged you back. You stepped back and looked at him with amazement. Remembering Kathy by your side, you apologized and introduced the two. Victor shook Kathy’s hand with a warm smile, as he said hello. Kathy looked between you too, finding it all to amusing to see you both reuniting.

Unfortunately for you, someone else had been watching. Benny had seen you and Kathy making your way back, but stopping to admire different cars. He smiled at how cute you were. He was making his way to you when he saw the athletic young man step up. And then watched the surprise on your face before you both shared a brief hug.

It left a sour taste in Benny’s mouth, seeing you smile and talk to this guy. And usually he’d find your sheepishness cute – when it’s aimed at him – but he strongly disliked it when it came to this guy. He asked himself who was this guy, anyways?

Slowly Benny crept forward, catching the end of whatever you’d been saying to Kathy.

“...our families have been so close, especially after Victor" – so that’s his name, Benny thought – “and my brother played together on the football team. Guess you went on to play college ball, huh?” You softly laughed, looking to Victor.

Yep, Benny didn’t like this guy. He did not like the preppy look of him. And he really didn’t like how you were all smiles and giddy. Dare he say, Benny Cross was jealous of the guy you were with? Yes, a hundred percent he was.

Stepping up to you, as your back was to him, Benny put his arm around you. Drawing you close before putting a kiss to your temple, all the while staring down Victor. “Hey sweetheart" he greeted with his deep voice.

You jumped before realising who it was. Relaxing, you turned to Benny with a bright smile. Leaning up to place a peck to the corner of his lips. “Hey".

Once you moved your head back you noticed that Benny’s gaze was focused on Victor, his eyes drawn in and sharp on the young male. Whom was standing there looking at Benny, with a smile upon his face, not a care in the world. You shot Kathy a confused look, which she shrugged at. Though you both could feel some kind of tension between the two males.

“Ah, I think I’ll head back” Kathy slowly said, deciding to remove herself from the situation.

You shot her a sour look before she took off. Leaving you with the two males from and in your life. Neither male looked away from the other. You guessed Benny was staking his claim to you, as he probably didn’t know who Victor was. And Victor, being like a big brother, was working out if Benny was good enough.

“Well...” you said clearing your voice. “Benny, this Victor, an old friend to my family. Victor, this Benny, my boyfriend".

You looked a little shock after calling Benny your boyfriend. That word never leaving your lips before. Sure, you’d called him it in your head. You felt a warmth rise in your chest after voicing what Benny was to you. As you were known as Benny’s girl. With a silly smile upon your face you turned to your boyfriend, placing a hand on his chest. Which seemed to get Benny’s attention.

Looking to you, he was greeted to the sight of you smiling up at him. Seeing that silly smile warmed his heart, almost making him forget the man who’d hugged you. He could see a twinkle in your eyes, like something perked you up more. Whatever it was, Benny liked it and always wanted you be like this.

Victor cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you".

Both you and Benny turned to face Victor. “Yeah, nice to meet ya". That pointed looked back on Benny's  face as he looked to the man before him.

Victor nodded his head. “Well, as I mentioned before, this car" – he moved to stand by his car – “is amazing on the road. I’ll have to take you for a ride, hey cupcake".

You rolled your eyes at the old nickname, but bashfully smiled. “Vic...not that nickname. Let it die, please”.

Victor laughs at your words. “I will never let it go, cupcake”.

You moved forward and swatted Victor’s arm, making him laugh more. And then you laughed as well. All the while Benny watched the playfulness between you too, and not liking it one bit. Especially when Victor put his hand on your arm, holding firmly to stop you once and for all. The way this guy looked at you, the familiarity and warmth. It was off putting for Benny. This guy, even if he’s an old family friend, having his hand on you and looking at your warmly, ticked him off. That green eyed monster rising.

“How about that drive sometime?” Victor’s voice brought Benny back to the matter at hand, the male speaking.

“Ah, yeah. That would be” – you looked to Benny, but am surprised to see the unfriendly look directed to Victor – “...great". Great coming out unsure.

Your old friends face lit up when you agreed, not noticing the uncertainty in your voice. Going on about where you both should take a drive too. All the while you were unsure on how Benny was taking all this. Though with every passing moment that look seems to get darker, and getting annoyed.

That’s when it hit you. Benjamin Cross was jealous. Jealous of your old family friend Victor. Turning back to Victor, you couldn’t help the wicked little smile that crossed your lips. Now would be the best time to give your boyfriend a taste of his own medicine. Finally you could show him how you felt when he spent time with Angela.

“I don’t mind where we go" you replied, placing a hand on Victor’s arm. “As long as you can open that car up".

Benny’s gazed moved to you, not impressed with your reply.

“Of course! She’s made to go fast" Victor laughed.

You continued to smile, looking at Victor. You both talk about his car, you asking any and every question you can think of. All the while feeling the dark cloud that was Benny behind you.

And oh Benny was not enjoying the attention you were giving this guy. Nor did he like the way Victor was smiling at you. He knew he was an old family friend, friends with your brother. But a small part of him wondered if you had ever had a crush on him. If Victor had liked you. Did either of you act on it. Was there hand holding and cuddling. Or did you ever kiss. Every thought making the jealousy in him grown.

Then he did it. Victor held your hand as he led you around behind his car. Leaving Benny standing there seething. This guy had the audacity to take your hand and lead you away from him. Benny’s hands clenched for a moment, before he unclenched them, for he had to control this anger, to control the want to lay hands on this man. He wouldn’t – couldn’t do that, for you would not forgive him if he did.

Next minute he heard your loud giggle. That was it. Snapping out of it Benny made his way to you both. You were leaning against the back of the car, still in conversation with Victor, who stood too close to you with that charming smile. With a small growl, Benny walked over between the two of you. Victor taking a few steps back.

“Benny?” You asked confused and concerned at the annoyed look on your boyfriend’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything alright?” Asked Victor, which made Benny turn and glared at him.

Without a word Benny pulled you from your leaning position. And without an ounce of trouble, he picked you up so you were over his shoulder. You let out a surprised yelp. After realising what had just happened you started to hit at Benny’s back and saying for him to put me down. But it fell on deaf ears, as your boyfriend then stomped off, back towards his bike.

“Ah, sorry Vic!” You called, throwing him a slight wave.

The man you’d just called to looked at you with a shocked expression, returning your wave awkwardly. With every step you continued to hit Benny’s back and repeating your demand to be put down.

“What is ya problem!?” You practically yelled, now gaining an audience as you both moved on.

Benny huffed. “Had enough of him" was his gruff reply.

You blinked, taking a pause from hitting your boyfriend. “Come again?” You asked in confusion.

“I said, I had enough of him" Benny stated, like it was fact.

“Hmm" you hummed.

You took a moment to let his words sink in. As well as his actions. You smiled at your jealous boyfriend, before starting to laugh. Your plan looked to have worked. You got under his skin. You practically cackled, which had Benny questioning you on what’s up with ya?

You smiled brightly. “My, my, my. Looks who’s jealous now, huh?” And again you laughed.

Benny huffed, jostling you on his shoulder, silencing you. He smirked at that. Though it didn’t last for long. As you began to sing that he was jealous. Reaching his bike Benny planted you back on your feet, met with a big grin on your face.

“Admit it, you were jealous~” you sang.

Benny rolled his eyes, but feeling embarrassed by the weight of your attention on him. Yes, he was jealous. And a small part of him feared it could be the start of loosing you. You noticed how Benny looked away, his eyes looking worried. Your smile dropped. You stepped closer seeing how worried he was. You brought your hands up, cupping his face and turning his gaze back to you.

“Hey, you have nothin' to worry about" you said softly, eyes boring into his beautiful baby blues. “If ya think I’d want Vic, no chance. I want my bike riding Vandal any day".

Hearing those words, Benny let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. His eyes softening, the worry slowly leaving. Replaced with warmth and endearment for you, which is everything you had for him.

You pulled Benny’s face towards yours, the Vandal not putting up a fight. You brought his lips to yours in a soft, tender kiss. A reassurance he needed, and felt from you. Wrapping an arm around you, Benny drew you in close. You smiled at how needy he could be at times. But you wouldn’t push it away or say no.

Pulling back you looked at your man. “I still can’t believe ya got jealous" you giggled.

Benny groaned, hiding his face in your crook of your neck which only made your giggle turn into a laugh. Retaliating, Benny began to nip at your neck. Which earned him a small squeal from him, and a playful slap to his shoulder. You both laughing at it all.

“Yeah, I’ll admit I was jealous, happy?” Benny muttered against your skin.

Smiling triumphantly you said, “good...now ya know how I felt".

[astralprisms]

A comic page based on a fic I was writing, with art by @/LaFrenchbroiche in twitter, text is my own.

The Emperor gave us that recipe and it seemed a shame not to be able to do anything with it in game, so Xa'rok makes some adjustments (and some familiar mistakes)

The Emperor's voice rang suddenly in their mind, urgent. Take care not to--

It didn't get to complete the sentence before Xa'rok saw the smoke curl up from the fire in a great black plume. Xa'rok cursed and shifted the pot from the flames.

..burn it. Despite the momentary panic, the Emperor seemed almost amused. A beat passed before its voice slid back into Xa'rok's head again. Why do you think I included that note in the recipe?

Xa'rok licked an errant splash of cream from their thumb and shifted the pan back to the fire again.

"You wrote that?"

Xa'rok didn't rise to the bait. "You must have been close."

Copied, from a book of my mother's. That note was a late addition. Its attention grew pointed. She often complained that without it, I would become distracted, and forget.

Of what I recall of my human memories, very. Its voice grew distant, as if lost in another place. She was, without a doubt, the greatest woman that ever lived.

Xa'rok hummed thoughtfully. "There aren't any relationships like that, among my kin. I don't really have anything to compare it to. Rearing was the job of the Varsh, and guidance the purview of our instructors -- but I wouldn't call their instruction 'care', exactly." They gave the soup another stir.

"They readied us for life beyond the creche, yes; trained our senses, and strengthened our bodies, but it was nothing like this."

They removed the pan from the fire. The soup had grown thick and boiling, its creamy broth churning with butter and spices, studded with the thick-cut vegetable from which it got its name. It smelled strongly of the soil.

"We ate what we could find and fought one another for what we couldn't. Taste was hardly a factor in those calculations. I can't say I've eaten ferns before, though."

Had you been paying closer attention, you could have sampled them for the first time unburnt.

Xa'rok snorted. "And whose fault is that!? Your stories are a lot more interesting than watching some pot boil over."

As I've said, I've made the same mistake. Consider it...a rite of passage.

Xa'rok ladled themself a helping and posted up with the bowl balanced on their knees. "Maybe I'll like it better this way." They said, just to be contrary.

The Emperor laughed. I said that, too.

A moment passed in silence while Xa'rok lifted the first spoonful to their lips. They swallowed, and the Emperor's presence seemed to solidify, almost as if it sat beside them in the flesh, instead of trapped within the prism at their side.

What do you think?

"I've definitely had worse," Xa'rok started. They swallowed another spoonful, savoring the flavors as they mixed on their tongue. Despite the char, the fiddleheads were surprisingly tender as they tore beneath their teeth. Earthy and hale, they were strongly reminiscent of the ground they had been plucked from.

"Gale says that it's human custom that a meal is only as good as the company that shares it. In that case," Xa'rok glanced beside them at the artefact, the empty space. "I suppose I haven't had better."

[middlingmay]

Rebel!John x Pastor's son!Gale AU

“D’you think you’re a sinning man, John?”

That was the thing Gale Cleven was best at: taking any assumptions you had or expectations you made about him, tossing them in the dirt between your legs where you lay sprawled, and grinding them down into dust under his boot while you watched.

Metaphorically speaking. But it was a metaphor John had been thinking about a lot lately.

They sat parked up in his car, a town over from Daddy Cleven’s parish. John wasn’t sure what tale Gale had spun when he escaped the old man’s clutches. But he was sure that he didn’t care.

What he did care about, very much, was the way Gale looked in the fading light. Golden hair, golden skin - even the blue of his eyes absorbed the gold of the sun as it started to make its way to bed.

His shirt buttons still stood to attention, done right up to the top and his shirt was starched so it dug a little into his throat. Evidently he’d not had a chance to change into the soft cotton collars and cardigans he preferred when he didn’t have to be at attention for the Pastor.

But in a rare display of abandon, Gale had rolled up his cuffs and stretched out his arms as he lounged in the front seat of John’s beloved car, top down. One arm dangled over the end of the door, the other stretched over the back of the seat. John had never fully appreciated that particular design feature of his Buick Super Convertible Coupe; that the two front seats ran end to end, so it was a little like sitting on a couch. Not until the first time it allowed him to press his legs against the local pastor’s son in the name of ‘getting comfortable’.

The deep red leather was soft and supple and today Gale had felt some kind of way that had him knocking his knee against John’s and draping his arm across the divide so his fingertips nearly, nearly, tickled the very edges of John’s arms - right at the top, where it met the short cuff of his t-shirt.

His mom hated this shirt - said it showed more of him than was Godly. When he paired it like he did today, with tight blue denim jeans which hugged his strong waist and showed just how thick his thighs were, she tutted and swatted his behind with whatever she was holding before she ushered him outta her door until he “learned some damn sense! What kinda girl you gonna bring home to me looking like that?”

And the longer John spent with Gale, the clearer the answer was to him. Not a damn one.

Gale was staring at him and John realised he hadn’t answered the question. He’d just been staring at Gale like some love-sick dame.

John grinned, the one that revealed his teeth as it spread, and let him bite on his lip a little on the way.

Gale’s eyes flicked to it like they always did.

“Isn’t that a given?”

But Gale was good at recovering from John’s teasing, and levelled him with his own look, head cocked, like John was a child who was being deliberately obtuse.

“Is it?” he asked. “Because depsite your reputation around town, I ain’t seen you do anything immoral.”

Immoral. John latched onto the word like it was prey; a perfect opportunity to get Gale a little worked up.

“Well which are you asking? Immoral, or sinful?”

Gale’s brown furrowed, and he looked at John all suspicious like. “I don’t follow.”

John turned his body towards Gale, his own arm coming up to the back of the seat, draping over Gale’s who didn’t budget an inch.

“They’re not the same, Buck,” he said, using the nickname Gale pretended to hate.

There. He saw it. The intrigue; the temptation to bite the bait.

“Okay. How are they different?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Tell me what your seven sins are.”

Gale snorted. “You’re a Catholic, John. You know what they are.”

John didn’t laugh. “Say them.”

Noting the tone - the order - Gale sat up a little straighter. His arms dragged along the line of John’s as he did so. John felt it like static electricity.

“Pride.”

John nodded. “I got plenty of that. I’m proud of my car,” he gestured with his hand.

“You worked hard on it—”

“I’m proud of my looks. I like keeping my curls longer because I know what it looks like when someone wants to pull on ‘em. I like my legs,” he stretched them out a bit further and Gale’s first blush of the evening made its appearance. “They make me feel strong. And that makes me feel good. All those folks lookin’ at what I got.”

Gale was silent.

“What’s next?”

“Greed and gluttony.”

“Hm,” John made it a satisfied and contented sound. “Well, I’m not greedy for money, you know that. And if It was success and fame I was after, I’d have trotted to New York after my dad.”

Gale’s eyes softened at that, well aware of John’s tendency to self-sacrifice for the comfort of his mother and his sisters - something no one else knew apart from John’s best friend, Curt.

John was pleased to see it, that false sense of security, before he made his move. “At first, I told myself that everytime I saw you would be the last. I’d leave the pretty pastor’s son be, stop teasin’ and tormentin’ him and let him find some friends more like him.”

Blush number two.

“But each time we spoke, every time I got you to laugh, every time you caught me lookin’ - it just made me greedier, Gale. Just got me hungry.”

A soft breathe rushed from Gale’s lungs. His fists clenched where they rested. Perfect control.

“Sloth.”

John laughed, bright and happy. “The day you let me, I’ll spend the whole morning after showing you sloth, just you wait.”

Gale covered his mouth with the hand that had been resting on the door and snickered. John loved that he could make this boy, normally so solemn and serious with the weight of his father dragging him down, laugh so easily now. Gale shoved John back and inch and John let him, smiling like a fool.

“Alright, envy,” Gale said, finally getting into the game.

“Your buttons.”

Gale spluttered. “My what?”

John nodded at his buttoned up collar. “Your buttons. Your shirt.”

“You can’t be serious? You’re jealous of cloth?”

“Ah, ah,” John corrected him gleefully. “I’m envious.”

Gale rolled his eyes but John leaned over under the pretense of studying the button at the base of Gale’s throat, and the younger boy stilled like a deer. From here John could draw in the scent of him: soap something sweet, like chocolate.

A breath away from the lip of Gale’s shirt collar, John murmured,” They get to kiss ya in ways you ain’t let me, yet.”

Gale whipped his head round and John had to rear back lest he get smacked in the head, but he didn’t go far. He saw Gale walk that edge; the one between excitement and fear, both centred on what he really wanted.

The other thing John liked about Gale, was that he had a complete and utter inability to back down. In the fractional space between them now, Gale let the arm resting along the back of the seat drop in a ghost of an embrace as it curled around John where he sat. The other he slowly but deliberately brought to rest of John’s denim-clad knee, high though, and gripped like if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to control where it went.

“Lust?” Gale whispered against his face.

And it would have been easy, so easy for John to finally bridge that distance and claim a kiss. But just like all the other times, he couldn’t help but think it had to be perfect, not easy.

Instead, he tipped forward just enough to brush his nose against Gale’s; for their eyelashes to flutter against each other, and for their stubble to catch in a delicious scrape and burn as they breathed in each other’s air.

“You have no idea,” John’s voice rumbled in the coming dusk, “the fire I got inside me for you, Gale Cleven.”

Gale’s breathe was shaky and laboured and tumbled out of him in a stutter. And then, “Don’t I?”

John dropped his head to the curve of Gale’s neck with a thud and a pained groan, and Gale chuckled, deep and syrupy now that John wasn’t stealing his breath.

But never let it be said that John Egan did not give as good as he got.

“I am a sinful man, Gale,” he spoke, just below Gale’s ear. “I don’t look at you with piety or good, clean Christian love for mankind. If you judge me based on the Good Book, you make me wanna be a very bad man.”

Gale’s hand spasmed on his leg as John felt the weight of the other man’s head rest on the back of his, just for a second.

Then John asked, “But does that make me immoral? Does that make me evil?”

Gale pulled back and looked at John with horror. He could see the refusal in Gale’s eyes that the younger man wanted to speak into the air. Of course John wasn’t evil. How could he be?

Gently, John cupped Gale’s chin between a finger and a thumb. “Does my - do my feelings for you mean I gotta burn?”

Gale closed his eyes but not before John caught the flash of hurt. Gale tilted his head down so his mouth laid in the curve of John’s palm, and in that sacred hollow he said, “I won’t let you burn, Johnny. Least not alone.”

There. As close to an admission as Gale got that John wasn’t going crazy and he wasn’t in this alone. That Gale saw John the way John saw him, and he wasn’t getting himself off every night to a damned fantasy.

With more effort than he thought he had in him, John pulled back to the driver’s seat and shook it out: all the tension, his desire, his temptation. He shook his head, rolled his shoulders, smacked his hands on the steering wheel, and when he turned to Gale he looked near pristine, but for the raw, bare look in his eyes.

“I gotta get you home,” and John said it like a vow.

A few streets away from the Pastor’s house - because even Gale didn’t make John stupid enough to tempt fate like that and Gale wouldn’t let him even if he did - Gale paused before getting out the car.

“What about wrath?”

John, who hated dropping Gale off but always appreciated the momentary but completely unobstructed view of his ass as he left the car, took a second to catch up. “Huh?”

“Wrath. You never said how you were a wrathful man. You left it out.”

And John thought back to the busted lip that started this whole thing. To subsequent red cheeks and black eyes and that one time he walked into the garage to Curt pointing viciously at the back room and finding Gale curled up on the ratty couch there under his jacket, soaked to the bone and nose red, sleeping.

He couldn’t touch Gale, now. Not around so many houses full of curtain twitchers, night time or not. But he could hold his gaze, which so many people found hard to do with the pastor’s son, and he could promise:

“I will never hurt you, Gale.”

And if he expected some heartfelt look or words at the declaration, he would have been mightily disappointed. Gale looked affronted, like John had just treated him like he was stupid.

“I know that, idjit.”

John spluttered.

“But your boys say you’re awful good a fightin’”

When he was a little younger and a lot stupider, John used to fight for the hell of it; to feel something in the wake of his father walking out his life. But now he only fought for a good reason. And Gale and his boys were very good reasons.

“I look after mine, Gale.”

And Gale bit his lip at the meaning left unsaid and wished John a goodnight, before he exited the car and walked off into the night.

John watched Gale until he turned the corner, like he always did, before he collapsed against the back of the seat and rubbed his face hard with his hands.

Gale Cleven. John was fairly sure he was going to hell for that man.

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

You know what, fuck it: Baldur's Gate 3 Thoughts.

(The world is so so bad right now, can't even name all the bad things, so fuck it, no more bad feels, just some nice garbage right now)

I really love that the big 3 pairings all kinda arrive together:

Lae'zel and Shadowheart are already trapped on the ship together, like they are both trapped by their beliefs. They both know more about what's happening than anyone else and are also perhaps the most frightened.

Astarion and Gale show up stuck and as potential bait. They're both concealing some pretty big problems. The only way to succeed with them is to trust them despite this. And they both badly need to bond with others so they can survive their ordeals.

Karlach and Wyll actually already have a relationship, just one founded on misunderstanding. They can each empathize with each other in ways the others can't and adjust quickly to thinking of a previous adversary as a friend. They both have so much going on that when they arrive on the Sword Coast, they just resettle into business as usual. They've both been misused by those with control over them and seek to break that control, even if that doesn't fix everything, even if it means more loss.

They're all good ships, I love them. And all the other combos are good too, there are no bad options here, but I'm a bit of a sucker for these. Honestly, really appreciate having an entire party of bisexuals. I love that so much <3

Gale and I are the same person ha ha ha FUCK

I do have fic ideas, potentially for Gale & Astarion and Lae'zel & Shadowheart (spoilers below)

Like, I actually have a lot of feelings about Shadowheart being a complete dick to Lae'zel while she goes through a crisis of faith, only to eat pigeon pie later when she gets a crisis of her own.

And I'm obsessed with the idea of Lae'zel learning how to be comforting as she watches Shadowheart crumble apart, as she loses all sense of identity. Because at least Lae'zel has that. Lae'zel lost a lot in parting from Vlaakith, but she didn't lose who she was. Indeed, she left in defense of who she was, in defense of what she knew to be right. Shadowheart doesn't even have that. And it's a wild thing that comes over you, to feel like you've fucked up and lost and to find someone you can actually help. I think it would be a really cool and beautiful thing to see, Lae'zel helping Shadowheart find the pieces of herself. That would just be really, really good.

And then there's Problematic Old Man Yaoi over here

Maybe what I love best about Gale and Astarion is how much fucking WOULD NOT solve it

Like, some people just need to fuck it out and then it's all good, you fixed the issue

And 100% fucking would not solve their shit. Like, it would help, or it certainly wouldn't not help. But it'd only help like... max 20% The rest has to be solved by Talking, Using Your Words, Talking To Other People No Not The Imaginary Conversations, and Admitting When You're Wrong.

I also love that this is true no matter where you think they get together.

Like, let's take Act I: I cannot IMAGINE how Astarion could talk Gale into bed that early. Gale "Never Nude" Dekarios who's never had a crush on anyone who wasn't Mystra. He'd be shaking and fumbling just trying to ask Astarion on a date. And Mr. Emotionally Available over here, who is not ready to be vulnerable in any sense, who uses sex as a crutch because it's so familiar and so easy to dissociate from... yikes, what a combo. Poor Gale would be sent reeling by the hot-cold of it, he'd act insane those first few days after sex as he tries to make sense of how Astarion said yes to everything, but didn't mean it, but also he did? So should he pursue that or leave it be? Is the best choice to let Astarion thaw in his own good time or obsessively work on cracking this because Astarion clearly needs help and just doesn't want to ask for it? Stupid question, OBVIOUSLY the second! I... instant explosion. God, it would go so bad. Honestly, the good version is Gale resists the invitations and instead Astarion sulks for a few days over his blue balls or just fucks someone else, thus giving Gale a new case of mixed signals to obsess over. Jesus, we're just never going to escape that are we? Wizards gotta fixate.

Act II: In which Astarion chooses to ignore his own problems by instead arguing with Gale about his. Not because he's invested, merely because Gale is clearly being an idiot. Gale at first demurs, refusing to be argued out of his guilt, but then when Astarion becomes more insistent, counters with why Astarion cares so much? This would inevitably erupt in some kind of sexual encounter, but the fighting wouldn't stop because despite getting laid, Gale is still sure he's right and Astarion is still sure he's right. Dick actually can't solve this today. The camp mournful of ever finding a solution, they would like to sleep peacefully again someday.

Act III: Make or break time. Both Gale and Astarion escalate as the threat of death or destruction looms ever nearer. Gale now just as dead set on stopping Astarion from destroying himself as Astarion is on stopping Gale from destroying himself. Same threat, very different outcomes. Gale keeps looking at him with those damn puppy eyes and whining about "he'll regret it instantly" and "hate who he becomes" and "I can't stand to see that happen to you" or whatever. Obnoxious. And Astarion keeps trying to convince him that Mystra was wrong, that she "manipulated and groomed" him and "didn't even give an explanation" which he's owed, or some such nonsense. As if an inhuman, all-powerful goddess was out of line for being afraid of mortal actions... wait, was that a logical inconsistency? Damn. I think Gale would convince Astarion first. I think deep down Astarion would hate to be a full vampire too much, I think they both know it, and when Gale promises to stand by him, to take care of him, to always protect him... As much as Astarion doesn't want to trust, knows he's a fool for trusting, he agrees. He won't do it. He won't take the power. Because, damn him, he believes Gale. And what would suck is Gale would go "Cool! I'mma become a god, I can protect you way better then!" like entirely missing the point. And Astarion would be galled, deservedly so, by the hypocrisy. But Gale's so caught up in how sure he's right and how sure he's wrong, he's not even listening. I think it'd piss Astarion off so much, he'd convince the whole camp to kidnap Gale so he can't go sacrifice himself, full "He won't get the chance to kill himself because I'll do it first!" Until we finally get to the Nether Brain and... Astarion lets him go. Because that's the point. Trust isn't real if there isn't a choice. And as much as he hates the fact that Gale might choose what he doesn't want, he has to let him do it on his own. And I think that'd finally break through. That simple act of trust and sacrifice and playing willing to lose would finally make Gale go "Oh... oh god, what was I thinking? This isn't right." The fact that Astarion loves him more for the flawed and fallible person he is than for the heartless god he could become... That would finally make Gale see, Mystra was wrong all along and she never loved you because she can't really love. Not like that. Yeah. That's a personal favorite of mine.

But there's also a lot to be said for post-end, Astarion with nowhere to go and Gale going "You know... I've heard of spells that allow creatures form the Underdark to safely experience sunlight. We could try some of those, I don't see why they shouldn't work on you." and Astarion being floored and not even having the words for everything he feels at that offer. And then the raw sexual tension of living in his tower together as "friends" as Astarion mercilessly pines and Gale blissfully carries on, unaware until Tara finally goes "That's it! I can't take it any more! I'm going to live with your mother until you two sort this out!" and flies off. Leaving Gale to go "Huh... wonder what she meant by that?" Meanwhile, Astarion can hardly stand to be in the same room with Gale because he ends up basically drooling and yet, he can hardly stay away, staring obsessively from the shadows, creeping around wherever he is, looking exactly like the jealous lover he longs to be. Also, Astarion and Gale's mother! Oh, I can't wait! Too funny!

Oh, tower days with Astarion would be so good as he tries to adjust to having a life again. A slow, painful process, but very deserved. He'd need an occupation, he can't have nothing to do. Maybe he can look into magistrating again?

Anyway, there's some thoughts. I haven't finished Act III yet, but I'm close so I guess careful with those Act III spoilers.

Also, for anyone still reading, if you want to do me a solid: There exists somewhere a Bloodweave fic where Astarion walks in on Gale with a construct of himself only there's a twist... and the author is Very Correct about this twist. if you know, you know. But I can't find this fic anywhere! Please help a girl out if you've read the one I'm thinking of.

[bugeater77]

Nandermo things u probably forgot about

not in any order(i wrote them whenever i remembered them)

(scroll down for images, the ones pictured are highlighted) - Nandor holding guillermo up to make him feel like he is flying multiple times (quite possibly nandermo hug)

During the simon the devious episode where nandor once again takes him flying, they hold hands (last image)

Nandor telling guillermo to stay by his side until he falls asleep in the curse episode, then going to grab his hand but stopping (5th Image)

"you'll probably have to take it in the waist and out the shoulders" - guillermo knowing Nandor's exact measurements

Nandor getting so frustrated while talking about the other vampires wanting to kill Guillermo that he kicks and destroys a box

"take a picture of me having fun and then send it to guillermo so he knows how much I do not miss him" - nandor

Guillermo DROPPING EVERYTHING ON THE GROUND when he hears about nandor's engagement

"it's not gonna last." -Guillermo SHIT EATING GRIN after realizing that gale and nandor are not gonna be together

Guillermo PUTTING HIS ARM AROUND NANDOR AFTER THE GAIL EPISODE he thought he had a chance :( (4th image)

Sean calling Guillermo Nandor's boyfriend and lazlo not questioning it not one bit

pulling guillermo back way before he was supposed to after trying to use him as bait for the sire

this was also while he was shaking his money maker if i might add

like the second he did it...

entire scene where Nandor tries to convince guillermo to come back from celeste

ENTIRE HOMOEROTIC FIGHT SCENE

might i mention that nandor obviously thinks guillermo fighting him is hot??!

Guillermo gripping nandor plushie after he leaves (3rd image)

Guillermo has silver lined seatbelts in his car, meaning he was planning to rescue nandor for a while

"traveling the whole world with my nand- master" - guillermo

ermmmmmm glitter portrait ?!!

Nandor wishing to be human the SAME AMOUNT that guillermo wishes to be a vampire, seeing him as an equal

"my furry little friend" - nandor

Marwa, who likes EVERYTHING nandor likes, kissing guillermo all over his face

The wwdits cast interview about nandermo, which to me feels like a deep extreme very canonization

Nandor's pure jealousy after finding out about guillermo becoming a vampire

Him waiting for SO LONG outside of panera bread

Going to guillermos house to look at his baby pictures

talking about his goth phase with his mom...

"if i'm lying, kill me now" - nandor

Nandor being so upset and holding guillermos body after thinking he was dead

Nandor grasping guillermos sweater

speaking out against the baron to keep guillermo safe, which if you watch season 1 again you'll see that he is TERRIFIED of the baron

so excited to talk about guillermo killing vampires.... wtf is wrong with u nandor but we're not gonna get into that

"I will fix"

PUTS ON GUILLERMOS CAPE

he is so excited to kill derek, not to turn guillermo human, but literally just to kill derek out of jealousy

Nandor's face while guillermo is talking about his love life(second image)

Guillermos face after Nandor turns Gail into a vampire (first image)

guillermo hammering the door as hard as possible to wake nandor for his super slumber.

duh nandor knowing every part of Guillermos thank you card

The entire last episode actually?

theres absolutely more but this is all i remember just from my brain

(new additions) In another cast interview, Kayvan Novak says “I think he’s coming to the realization that his type is Harvey Guillén flavored.” about nandors type

Nandor makes guillermo spin around in his wedding cape

Nandor says he got the idea of having a wedding ever since him and guillermo "watched the wedding planner on that rainy sunday together"

ok listen closely, the wedding planner is about a woman planning a wedding falling in love with the groom causing him to leave the bride

he did NOT CARE WHO HE WAS MARRYING. BUT HE KNEW HE WANTED GUILLERMO TO PLAN IT FROM DAY 1

[sxddekarios]

a very wholesome magic lesson

i am back with a bg3 rebranding!! this is the first fic i've ever wrote, and it's my take on Gale's act 1 romance scene at the tiefling party. Him and Tav are both oblivious to the others' feelings. read on ao3 or here!

2.2k words (of fluff)

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“I think it’s best in my condition if I don’t get too excited,” Gale reminds himself.

“Well, who said anything about excitement? Surely you’re not *that* keen on a little magic trick. I’ve seen you do plenty of other magic.” Tav responds with her signature furrowed brows.

“It’s not … the magic, per-say. More what comes with it. Though perhaps I’ve had too much wine for this conversation.” Gale attempts to stop him self, as he usually does when he’s bitten off a bit too much to chew in the flirting department.

“For what conversation? I just want to learn some more magic. There’s no way I can go enjoy our celebration, and sleep, after this cliffhanger…” Tav trails off, trying to bait him into explaining without having to fish too directly (or embarrassingly) for it.

Gale raises an eyebrow at Tav, knowing that he’s never been able to turn down an ask of hers before. He got into this mess with the orb by being a pleaser, after all. “Have a glass of wine and I’ll see if I can handle making this much of an ass of myself” Gale sighs.

Tav grabs his glass of wine and takes a tentative sip. She makes a face, disgusted by the tartness. Luckily, she manages to swallow the offending liquid. “This is all you’re getting from me, I’m afraid. Unless you can magic this into something bearable, or you’re hiding some other vices somewhere in that tent of yours, you’re gonna have to deal with talking to a sober person right now.”

Gale looks at her in mock astonishment — “Have you no taste? Have you never drank wine before? This is a *delectable* indulgence that clearly you have not been educated on. Or, perhaps, you lack the sophistication that i’ve grown terribly used to in Waterdeep.”

Tav grimaces while preparing herself for her next attempt to shut Gale up …. at least telling him how he *should* shut up, that is. Letting out a deep breath, she grabs hold of Gale’s glass and chugs it. As much as she can anyways, which still takes an eternity too long to ensure she doesn’t choke. “It’s still horrendous. But we’re even now. Spill, before I do.”

Gale glances at the empty glass in disappointment, but holds onto it. He steels himself for his next words while keeping his eyes downward. “If you must know, I speak of … physical excitement. I can handle magic, but my heart may not be able to handle … more carnal conditions of the flesh. With the orb, I risk exploding with any activity, or *feeling*, that gets my heart beating too fast, my blood pressure too high,” Gale explains.

Tav raises an eyebrow in response. “Like, you’re gonna explode as in ….” she trails off again, hoping he’ll take the hint. She knows he must be referring to the catastrophic Netherese blast they had spoken of before, but she couldn’t help herself from teasing him about the double entendre.

The blush taking over Gale’s face and neck came on far too suddenly for him to blame it on the wine. “No! Gods no, not like that! The magic in the orb will destroy me and everything around me,” Gale exclaims. Much to his avail, Tav still doesn’t stop her line of questioning.

Crossing her arms, Tav decides to enjoy the flustered nature of a blushing, tipsy Gale. “Okay, but you’re still saying you’d explode …. literally …. because you’d explode …. sexually. You said you wanted to show me a *magic* trick, not fuck my brains out.”

She pauses for a second when he lets out an indignant gasp at her directness. “Unless I’m mistaken on what a magic trick is, in which case I think you should’ve lead with that,” Tav finished with a smirk, finally meeting his eyes. She can feel the exasperation exuding from the wizard, and she loves every second of it.

Gale has no choice but to shake his head in lack of a coherent response to Tav’s brazen words. “I suppose you’ve got me there. I can show you some magic, no nefarious subterfuge. And no explosions of any kind, mortal *or* magical,” he emphasized.

Tav worries at her lip for show. “You really won’t blow up, right? Or you’ll at least warn me if you feel too much … *excitement*, stirring? We can’t leave scratch an orphan.” She thinks of mentioning the chaos that Astarion would unleash without them to reel him in, but she didn’t want to darken the mood too much.

Gale smiles at her words and lets out a little laugh as he promises that they’ll be safe. He holds out his hand, palm up, for her to take. Tav takes a hard look at his fingers for a moment, trying to commit their beauty to memory, before gently laying her hand atop his and intertwining their fingers to be led farther out of the camp. Once they reach a more quiet spot a few minutes later, Gale stops, forfeiting her warm hand to turn to her.

“This will do. Now, I want to show you the true embrace of the Weave. It’s a full-body experience to wield the Weave and feel its support of your magic,” Gale says with a smile on his face and wonder in his eyes. Tav categorizes this as his professor face, imagining him introducing lessons to his students with this pure enthusiasm.

Nevertheless, she’s more comfortable bickering with Gale than sharing that heart-warming thought with him. “You know i’m a sorcerer, right? I’ve been using the Weave my whole life. Unlike *some* people,” she pointedly includes to rile up the wizard.

“Of course. You’ve received the gift through your ancestor’s carnal relations with some dragon, while ‘some’ of us have *worked* for it,” Gale smiled, letting her know that he was joining her sarcasm in jest. “Nonetheless, there’s a very different feeling to using the Weave that comes with the years of study a wizard has. *That* is what I wanted to show you. I know you can call on the Weave as second nature, and you do a wonderful job with it, but I want you to experience the pleasure of embracing the environment, carefully going over the incantation and hand gestures, and using this to manipulate the Weave to bring your spell into reality.”

Tav felt her heart rate sky rocket with Gale’s praise for her sorcery. She wondered if the feeling he spoke of was really common to all wizards, or if he had a deeper connection as Mystra’s former lover … or victim, if you ask her. Still, she tried to focus on the positive.

“Ah, so you took me here to teach me slow careful pleasure,” Tav teased. “Get on with it then,” she encouraged with a wave of her hand.

Gale laughed in response, a deep sound that flooded Tav’s head with a light feeling, and took over her lips with a full grin.

“As you wish,” Gale bowed his head towards Tav, and proceeded with his magic lesson.

—

After an hour of teaching Tav how to connect with the Weave in this almost spiritual manner, Gale smiled at her once again. “I know you’re genuinely a natural at magic, but you did a wonderful job with this. It’s hard for someone to harness this connection without the education of a wizard.”

Tav smiles back at Gale and considers herself. “Or, maybe you’re just a good teacher.” As sure of herself as she was in magic, she was more sure of Gale’s ability to educate others. From his admirable desire to help others to his enthusiasm for knowledge … to the voice, face, and *hands* that made it impossible to zone out on him. He didn’t need to know that last part, though.

Gale chuckles at her praise, a light blush spreading across his face. “That too. How are you feeling now?” He asks, hoping his little magic lesson has been half as joyful for her as it has been for him. He felt relaxed, renewed, grounded, and more connected to her than he had ever felt. Although, that last part may be because he’s still standing so close to her, holding her hand as he needed to guide her through the more intricate parts of spell casting.

Tav allows herself to stare into Gale’s glimmering brown eyes, feeling a psychic connection between them where her thoughts could become his without the need to be verbalized.

After a lifetime of men being upset at her, accusing her of expecting them to read her mind, here is a man who can simply do so. Of *course* it’s Gale. Tav feels her eyes well up as she revels in the intense hope, adoration, and yearning she feels for him. Gazing into Gale’s eyes, their hands still intertwined, she imagines what it would be like to press onto her tiptoes and softly kiss him.

Gale’s eyes widen with shock as the thought dances into his mind. “I - I didn’t think -” he stutters, “I wasn’t … expecting that. Not that it’s unwelcome — it was a most pleasant thought,” Gale adds in hopes that Tav doesn’t take his surprise as disinterest, or even disgust. “It just took me by surprise,” he reiterates.

Tav takes a moment to compose herself before exhaling a shaky “okay.” Then, she whips her head around as she smells bergamot wafting in from the distance. Gale follows her gaze until they both see Astarion stumbling into the clearing … closely connected to Shadowheart.

“Well, looks like we’ve got company,” Gale tries (and fails) to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “We might want to get back to camp before we have to witness whatever is going to happen here.”

Tav slowly turns back to gale, smiling as she notices his stony stare at the oblivious couple. “As long as we’re not able to hear them from camp…”

“Oh gods, I don’t even want to think of that,” Gale grimaced. “Why don’t we head back, and if we hear anything, you could come sleep in my tent?” He quickly adds,” I have a silencing ward. I’d cast one on them before we leave, but I’m afraid my concentration won’t last once I fall asleep, and I know how fitful your rest is.”

Astonishment, anger, and amusement fight for dominance over Tav. She conveys a mix of them with her slack-jawed expression. “You had a *silencing ward* on your tent this whole time? And you didn’t *tell me*?” She kept her outrage playful, although she was disappointed that he hadn’t shared this with her earlier.

“I’m sorry,” gale said in earnest as he took her hand and started leading her back towards camp. They left a wide berth for Astarion and Shadowheart to continue ripping each other’s clothes off.

“I started working on a ranged ward for your tent after I earned of your insomnia, but I never quite got it to stick. I didn’t want you to think I was coming onto you by offering a place in my tent to get some good rest. I don’t expect anything, and I could even sleep outside of it if you’re more comfortable with that.” He felt a bit less forward with the offer now that he knew she thought of kissing him — at least in that moment. Still, he never wanted her to feel pressure.

She gazed up at Gale as they reached their camp. “Really?” she asked, unsure if someone could genuinely be so kind. Last time she had an offer like that …. well, they lied about expecting nothing.

Gale squeezed Tav’s hand in reassurance as he took in the concern in her voice. “Of course. I’m sure our adventure would benefit from a well-rested leader… do you want my tent alone, or …” he trailed off, his bashfulness returning.

“No!” tav exclaimed. “I’m not taking your tent from you! We can share it, if you’re okay with that?” She hurries along in an attempt to be thoughtful and nonchalant at the same time, “whatever you want. Sleeping on opposite sides, together … I’m fine with either. Well, by together I mean … you know what I mean,” she shook her head as she tried to explain herself.

Then she remembered their little joke and smirked, “no undue *excitement* is what I mean.”

Gale returned her smirk with a laugh, “Right, always looking out for me. It’s lady’s choice though, and i’m happy with either as well. But I will say, I know you run warm. I also know that I can use a frost enchantment to keep you cool so long as we’re touching.” This was his masterful attempt at sweetening the deal without pressuring her by saying how much he longed to hold her in his arms … and damn him if it wasn’t going to work.

“Gods, you’ve really been holding out on me, haven’t you?” Tav admonished. “I’ll just, get some of my stuff, and then I’ll join you. I’ll bring my blanket so I hopefully won’t steal yours, but I make no promises.”

He smiled as he met her serious gaze at the threat of stealing his blanket. “Two is always better. I’ll see you when you’re ready,” Gale said softly, watching her head back to her tent. He silently thanked her for wanting another blanket, giving him a moment alone to bask in the excitement of a night with her. And calm down this excitement before she returns so he doesn’t scare her off.

[its-jaytothemee]

A Burden Shared - Part 1: The Fight (2/2)

Pairings: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav, Astarion x Tav x Halsin

Word count: 4,241; Tav and Astarion POVs

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Read on AO3

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Summary: A group sparring session turns sour, and Astarion becomes very protective of Tav. Halsin goes to comfort Tav afterwards and ends up confessing some feelings he's had for a while now.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Feelings Confessions, Spoilers for Act 3, Sparring, Protective Astarion, Soft Halsin, Tav needs a fucking hug.

Author's Note: The tadfools get a filler episode. No explicit material yet, but will be present in a later chapter. Part 1 is finished, hopefully part 2 can be uploaded sometime in the next week or so. Will switch between a few character POVs, for now I only have Tav and Astarion. Enjoy! :)

Karlach and Tav cleared out a large area of the camp to give themselves plenty of space. Wyll and Astarion went to fetch the large stash of various weapons they had collected along their journey for them to choose from. Everyone else gathered around, admiring their makeshift arena.

“Alright gang, here’s the rules!” Karlach’s voice was full of excitement. “The challenger gets to decide which weapon Tav gets to use against them. No magic!” She looked at Gale, whose shoulders slumped slightly. “If anyone disarms her, they win!” Karlach was talking so fast, obviously anxious to get to the sparring.

“Wait, what exactly are we winning?” Shadowheart asked.

“I don’t know…you just…you win!” Karlach shouted back. Shadowheart just shrugged in response. “If Tav knocks you down before you’re able to disarm her, she wins.”

Tav took her place at one end of the sparring zone, she couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

“Okay then…who’s first?” She yelled out the challenge. Shadowheart started to move forward, but Karlach plowed past her, knocking over everyone and everything in her way.

“ME!” She yelled, radiating pure joy. “Don’t worry Soldier. I’ll be gentle.”

“And my weapon?” Tav asked, smiling back at her.

“Take the greatsword.” She replied, grabbing her own greataxe.

They took their positions standing opposite of one another. Tav steadied her breathing, never taking her eyes off of Karlach. She took a relaxed ready position, her greatsword held low at her side, waiting. Karlach’s lips twitched into a half smile as she let out a roaring scream. Now.

Karlach had a few moments when she entered her rage where she was most vulnerable. Usually, Tav would take those moments to protect her in a fight, but not today. The second the yell left her lips, Tav lunged at her. She reached her friend just before her rage started to take effect. Tav brought her sword up to catch her greataxe in just the right spot where it caught onto her blade. She twirled around the front of Karlach, ripping the axe from her hands before she could strengthen her grip. Disarmed, she would be much easier to topple. Tav kicked the weapon away, forcing Karlach to decide whether she would push forward attacking, or risk turning her back to grab her weapon. She chose to attack, of course. She took a step towards Tav, arm extending to try and wrestle her sword from her grasp. Tav let one of her wrists lag behind her as she moved away and Karlach took the bait. She turned so her back was facing Karlach, her arm wrapped around Tav, still holding her wrist. Still off balance from lunging at her, Tav was able to throw her weight forward and send Karlach tumbling to the ground in front of her. She moved to stand over her, hovering the tip of her greatsword above Karlach’s chest.

“Dead.” Tav said, smiling down at her. Their fellow companions clapped and let out a few cheers.

“Fucks’ sake, mate.” Karlach said, laughing. Tav offered her hand to help her up from the ground.

Wyll was already taking Karlach’s place as she was finally standing up.

“Let’s see how you handle a weapon that takes a little more finesse.” Wyll teased. He tossed a rapier towards Tav. She caught it by the hilt and gave Wyll a knowing smile. He knew she relied mostly on her strength to overpower opponents. She handed Karlach the greatsword as she sauntered back over to the others.

They stood only ten or so paces apart. Wyll gave a low bow, always the gentleman. Tav couldn’t help but laugh in response, returning the gesture. He began to move around her, his quick and graceful steps were much harder to anticipate than Karlach’s stomping. She opted to stay in one place, slowly turning her body to keep aligned with Wyll’s. He suddenly lunged at her. The swift fluid motion was perfectly timed with his steps. Tav moved her blade to block the attack, swatting it to the side. She made a couple of slashing movements that looked clumsy compared to his, trying to keep Wyll on his toes. She knew if she could wear him down, she would get an opening. He continued to dance around her, every now and then attempting a flourishing swipe at her. After a few minutes, she noticed a slight change in his breathing, and he slightly lost his balance trying to feign a step towards her. Gotcha. She took the opportunity to step to the side, just out of reach of his blade. Once clear of his sword’s arc, she ran to get behind him. Before he knew it, her foot was colliding with the back of his knees. He let out a small yell before dropping to his knees. She kicked his blade out of his hand and jumped in front of him. She smiled and pointed the sharp tip of the rapier at his throat, other hand on his shoulder.

“Dead.”

Wyll pursed his lips in response, but smiled as he took her hand to help him off the ground. More clapping and cheers from the sidelines brought another smile to her face. Astarion let out a loud whistle.

Gale was the next one to take the challenge, holding two quarterstaffs, he made his way to stand across from her.

“Gale, what are you doing? Tav could kill you with her bare hands, let alone with a weapon.” Karlach teased.

“Kill him Tav! Kill him! It would be so funny!” Astarion yelled, making himself laugh so hard he fell off of the barrel he was sitting on. Roaring laughter came from everyone else at the sight. There was no way to deny it now, Tav was having a very good time.

Gale gave her a slightly concerned look. She shook her head slightly, reassuring him that she would not in fact, kill him.

“Quarterstaff.” He said, tossing the extra staff her way. She caught it in one hand and twirled it above her head. She gripped the staff with both hands and held it out in front of her.

Gale took a small step back, getting into a low, defensive stance. He knew he wouldn’t be able to overpower her, she would have to draw him out or go to him. Gale was deadly quick with his spells but was no match for Tav in hand-to-hand combat. She held the staff in her right hand and sprinted forward. Gale held his position, preparing himself for her impact. When she was a few steps out, she jumped and lifted the staff over her head. She tried to aim at the end of his staff to throw him off balance. He moved at the last second and caught her strike right in the center of his own staff with a loud crack. Tav raised her eyebrows at him, she was rather impressed with that block. However, Gale seemed all too happy for the silent praise and lost his concentration for a moment. It was just enough time for her to spin around the other side of him and sweep his legs out from under him using her staff.

“Very dead.” She said with a laugh, her quarterstaff gently resting on his chest.

“Just drag me away. My knees will never let me get up from this.” Gale simply held his arms up waiting for someone to move him. Tav continued to laugh as Karlach came over to help pick him back up onto his feet.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Shadowheart moving in to claim the next round.

“Mace and Shield.” She said, already equipped with a spear and shield.

Clever, Tav thought to herself with a smile. Shadowheart was cunning, she knew that if both of Tav’s hands were tied up she would have a harder time grappling anything away from her. She walked over to the pile of weapons, grabbing a simple mace and shield.

“Wait, we can use shields?!” Gale yelled from his seat. Tav laughed in response.

“I’ll allow it.” She said, already trying to anticipate Shadowheart’s movements.

They circled each other, each tracking the other’s movements carefully. The shield added more weight that could easily fatigue her, so she would have to make this quick. Tav decided to make the first move. She needed to test the range Shadowheart had with that spear. As expected, Shadowheart lunged at her as soon as she reached the very edge of her range. Tav turned to the side to avoid being hit by the spear. As it rushed past her, Tav had the perfect opportunity to smack the shaft of the spear away with her shield. Shadowheart was able to maintain her grip on the weapon, but she was thrown off balance. Tav was able to take another step forward, putting her within range to strike with her mace. Using her momentum from her shield bash, Tav spun back around to strike Shadowheart’s shield. She hit the edge of the shield with a loud crunching sound. Shadowheart let out a grunt and her shield went flying off to the side. The sudden movement caused Shadowheart to twist away from Tav, giving her an opening. She hit the middle of the spear, causing Shadowheart to fumble and fall to the ground. Tav pinned her spear hand to the ground, mace still held high.

“Dead.” Tav said, still standing over her. Shadowheart gave an approving smile before wincing suddenly. Tav looked over to the arm that had been holding the shield to see her forearm horribly bruised, and slightly disfigured.

“Shit! Oh shit! Shit, shit! I’m so sorry, Shadowheart.” Her excitement disappeared as she stared at the injury, tears stinging her eyes. She jumped up, releasing her other arm. Carefully, she leaned Shadowheart back up off of the ground. Tav was breathing more heavily now and starting to feel some heaviness in her arms from the first few rounds of sparring.

“It’s alright, Tav, really. These things happen when we’re fighting, even during practice. Besides, I can take care of this easily.” She gave her a reassuring smile. Halsin was making his way towards them.

“Allow me.” He said, kneeling to their level. His familiar healing incantation prompted the warm soothing magic to fill the air around them. Tav watched as Shadowheart’s arm returned to its normal color and shape. Unexpectedly, she felt the healing surge over to her as well, taking away some of the soreness in her muscles. She looked at Halsin, who gave her a quick wink. It caused her heart to skip a beat.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” He said, helping Shadowheart up to her feet.

“Maybe we should stop…” Tav said, her guilt causing her chest to tighten.

“Of course not, darling!” Astarion jumped to his feet. “We haven’t all had a chance to best you yet, don’t tell me you’re scared.” He flashed a teasing smile at her.

“I…I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Tav folded her arms in front of her chest.

“Oh come on, Soldier. Shadowheart’s fine! We were just starting to have fun.” Karlach complained from her seat.

“I’ll go next, I know you won’t hurt me.” Astarion’s tone was teasing, but Tav could see something else in his expression too. It was important to him that they keep doing this.

“Okay then,” she said with a deep breath, “what weapon?” She smiled back at him.

“Weapons.” Astarion responded, his expression was pure mischief. “Pick any two you like, my sweet.”

She went over to the mess of weapons and picked up two shortswords. Astarion was holding both of his daggers, crouched and ready to strike.

Tav moved back to her starting spot. She held the two swords out in front of her, their light weight a relief from the previous round. She knew she would have to watch him closely. Astarion was fast. Tav knew him well, but he also knew her. She would either have to wait for him to tire himself out or lure him into a false sense of security. Astarion moved first, dashing towards her quickly. She sidestepped his attack, taking a swing at his arm using the flat side of her blade. He easily evaded her swipe. He continued running back and forth, making small slashes at her swords, trying to get them out of her grip. She feigned a move to her right, luring Astarion to her side. He looked confident, likely thinking that she had tripped. Tav waited for his signature twirling move he did with his daggers when he was sure he was going to hit something. That was when his grip was weakest. As soon as she saw the dagger flash, her foot came up to collide with his wrist, causing him to drop the small blade. He let out a small chuckle as he rubbed his hand and wrist.

“Oh darling, I didn’t want to have to do this to you.” He shook his head slightly, a playful smile on his lips.

“I’m sure I can take it, love.” She responded, keeping her voice as innocent as possible.

To her surprise, he placed his dagger back on his belt and started walking over towards her. He had a very serious, sultry look on his face. Tav felt herself smiling like a fool. She shook her head fondly, she knew exactly what he was doing.

Astarion stopped right in front of her, in a position where she could easily topple him over, but she decided to play along for a moment. He reached out and placed one hand on her hip, and the other on her cheek. She leaned into his touch a little, but also subtly moved her left leg to be in between his.

“Oh, look at you melting into my touch.” His voice was as sweet as honey. “I sometimes forget how devastatingly beautiful you can be when you’re fighting. The way your skin gleams, that…intense look in your eyes.”

“Boooo! Go back to fighting!” Karlach yelled from the sidelines, eliciting a laugh from the others.

Tav did not miss the fact that the hand by her hip had moved ever so slightly towards her sword’s hilt. But she felt Astarion relax slightly as he stroked her cheek. There it is, she thought to herself. She hooked her readily positioned leg around his and kicked it back hard. The look of surprise on his face was worth every second of his silly teasing. His legs flew out from under him, and he fell to the ground with a loud thump, seemingly knocking the wind out of him. Tav smiled and kneeled over him, pinning the hand still holding a dagger to the ground with her knee. She crossed the two shortswords over his neck. His smile widened – he was enjoying this.

“Nice try. Still dead.” Tav whispered. She gave him a quick kiss on his nose before standing back up. He took her outstretched hand, taking a small bow after he stood up. More cheers and laughter came from their companions.

“Well, my dear, we have to use all of our strengths after all.” He turned to go and sit next to the others.

She kept smiling as she watched him walk away, realizing that he may have suggested this entire spectacle to try and cheer her up. And it worked.

While she was staring after Astarion, Tav failed to notice that Lae’zel had made her way out of the small group to face her. She was a little surprised as the indifferent githyanki usually avoided their group activities. Tav smiled at her and gestured to the weapons off to the side.

“Which weapon, Lae’zel?” Tav asked.

“Pick what you would like, elf. It makes no difference to me.” Her tone was cool and steady.

“Very well.” Tav responded, her smile fading. She went back to her greatsword to match Lae’zel’s.

Lae’zel’s strength rivaled her own. She was cold and calculating in a fight and was not known for her mercy. The strange thing was that she didn’t seem to want any mercy either. Tav carefully took her place in front of Lae’zel, taking a moment to slow her breathing. They stood there staring each other down for a few moments, when Lae’zel finally lunged towards Tav.

Tav swung her blade up to catch Lae’zel’s first swing. The metal rang in the quiet air. They held their position, staring at each other through the crossed blades. Tav pushed Lae’zel away with a grunt. Lae’zel made a large, slashing swipe at Tav, causing her to jump back. Luckily, Lae’zel was caught a little off balance, giving Tav a chance to recover. She lunged at the githyanki, aiming a low blow with the flat side of her blade. Lae’zel was barely able to swing her sword back around to block her. Tav recovered quickly, bringing her blade back up to try and make a hit to loosen Lae’zel’s grip on her weapon. She lifted her hands at the last second to avoid the blow. They each aimed another powerful swing at the other, causing their blades to meet directly in front of them again. As they held their swords crossed at their faces, the muscles in their arms began to shake under the strain. Tav broke away suddenly in an attempt to force Lae’zel off balance again. She recovered quickly, but not before Tav was able to kick the side of Lae’zel’s thigh.

“Chk.” Lae’zel hissed toward Tav.

Tav immediately went in for another hit, this time aiming for her arm. Lae’zel parried her swing, bringing her own blade down on Tav. Tav was almost able to move out of the way, but the sword’s edge grazed her left arm, leaving a shallow gash. She winced in pain, almost losing grip on her sword, but her right hand maintained its hold. Tav did have to bend over slightly while trying to keep her balance and keep her weapon in her hand. Lae’zel was standing in front of her, sword held high, moving to strike. Tav kneeled at the last second, catching Lae’zel’s attack with her sword. The impact sending pain up her already injured arm. Her strength faltered slightly, and Lae’zel pressed her advantage. With Tav close to the ground, Lae’zel pushed all of her weight into her sword, causing Tav’s hand to slip slightly and slice across the edge of Lae’zel’s sword. The sight of blood running down Tav’s arm and their blades did not give Lae’zel any pause. She was starting to worry that Lae’zel wouldn’t let up even if she yielded or dropped her weapon. Tav took a couple of quick breaths and very quickly rolled out of the lunge she had trapped herself in. Lae’zel fell forward, almost hitting the ground, but used her sword to catch herself. Tav spun around with one leg, sweeping Lae’zel’s feet out from under her, causing her to land flat on her back.

Tav slowly stood up and walked over to her, holding her greatsword just over her throat in her uninjured hand.

“Dead.” Tav said. This time, there weren’t any laughs or cheers from her companions, just a few murmurs and awkward claps.

“Chk. Make it so then.” Lae’zel said up to her.

“That’s not how we do things here, Lae’zel.” Tav said, trying not to show how exhausted she was now. She dropped her sword to the side and offered Lae’zel her hand. She promptly refused and got up on her own. Tav gave a small nod and turned to walk away towards the rest of the camp. Suddenly, Astarion’s voice called out to her.

“Tav! Look out!”

His warning came just a moment too late as she felt a sharp pain across the back of her head, it brought tears to her eyes. Her vision swam momentarily, but she soon realized that Lae’zel had hit her with the pommel of her sword. She fell to one knee, trying to shake off the pain. It was barely a second later before Astarion and Karlach were standing over her. Karlach was pulling Lae’zel away from Tav as Astarion huddled over her protectively, daggers drawn. The others came running over right after. They managed to wrestle the large sword from Lae’zel’s hands.

“Kainyank!” Lae’zel growled at Tav. “We still carry ghaik parasites and yet you waste our day with this useless game!”

At this point, Tav had managed to stand back up. Astarion stepped forward so that he was slightly between her and Lae’zel.

“You stop to help every mewling istik we pass. We could have been here over a tenday ago if you would not insist on using us all to fulfill some hero’s purpose! You trust a ghaik with our lives, our futures!” Lae’zel let out a frustrated yell as she tore her arms away from Karlach and Wyll.

“You have no right to lead us. Your weakness will be the ruin of us all. I will have no part of it.” She moved towards Tav again, fists held up and ready to fight.

Unable to hold back her frustration any longer, Tav yelled and dove towards Lae’zel. She caught her right around the waist and tackled her to the ground. Lae’zel fought her, but Tav had the advantage. She was able to grapple Lae’zel into a chokehold of sorts.

“Stand down, Lae’zel!” She shouted.

Lae’zel struggled against her grip, scratching her long nails on Tav’s arms. She caught the small gash in her arm from earlier, causing Tav to cry out in pain. The cut on her hand was still bleeding and Tav felt Lae’zel starting to squirm free of her clutches, headbutting Tav in the process. She decided to let go, hoping she could roll out of the way before she took another hit to the head. But once she was free, Lae’zel simply rolled away from her.

She stood up and glared at Tav. With one final growl, she turned on her heels and stormed away from the group.

Astarion helped Tav to her feet as all eyes turned to her. Her head was pounding, she could feel blood running from her nose, and her vision was a little blurry. Although she couldn’t tell if her vision was struggling from the hits she took or the tears.

“I uh,” she stammered, still trying to fight off the dizzy feeling, “I think we should call it a day.”

Astarion gently wiped a trail of blood from her face with his sleeve.

“I think you need some healing, my dear.” He said gently.

“No I…” She could barely think straight. “I just want to go and clear my head. I’ll uh, I’ll be back soon.” She turned away before anyone could respond and started walking towards the trees at the edge of camp.

***

Astarion watched as Tav sulked off into the trees. She wouldn’t talk with anyone about it, but he knew she was starting to feel the weight of being their assigned leader. He couldn’t imagine that he helped with that, being one of the rowdy vagabonds she was trying to manage. He wanted to help her, really, he did, but he had no idea where to start. Everything was going so well today until the fight with Lae’zel. He didn’t think he had ever seen Tav laugh so much. A moment after she disappeared from his sight, he saw Halsin start to walk after her. For some reason, he felt a small spike of pain in his chest watching him follow her. He was relatively certain that Halsin wanted to be with Tav. It was obvious in the way he talked to her, how he hung on to her every word and watched her walk away for just a moment too long. He trusted Tav, but he still couldn’t help but feel a little upset at the two of them together alone. While he was hopelessly pining and fighting off waves of jealousy, Karlach had somehow managed to sneak up on him.

“Hey soldier…” She was trying to be quiet yet still managed to be the loudest person in the camp. “Maybe you should go and check on Tav. Since you two are…you know…”

Astarion shot her a look “What? Together?”

“Sure. I was gonna say ‘fucking’ but same thing really.” Karlach shrugged.

“Ugh must you be so vulgar?” Astarion said, rolling his eyes. “Besides we’re not…I mean we haven’t since…” He suddenly felt flustered. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t even know what to say anyway. I’m not exactly skilled in the art of comforting others.” He looked up again to see Halsin disappearing into the trees.

“Aw come on, Fangs. I’ve really been rooting for you two. Besides, from what I gather from Tav, you’re very skilled at the art of– ” He shot her another look that cut her off abruptly, and she tried to hide a smile. “Sometimes all you need to do is be there, even if you don’t know what to say.” Karlach nudged him slightly with her elbow.

“Halsin will be able to help her much more than I could.” He responded, surprised by how sad admitting that made him. He shook off the feeling, and instead turned to where Lae’zel was standing near her tent.

“Besides…” He started, his temper rising, “I think maybe Lae’zel and I need to have a friendly little chat.”

“Fuck yes.” Karlach whispered under her breath, following closely behind Astarion.

[pursuitseternal]

“Arising” to the climax of “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Cordehlia (Named Tav) | E | 3.6 K

Love to @marimosalad , my illustrator and co creator

Summary: Cazador’s dungeons, where his love is reduced to a hostage to ensure his willingness in the Rite of Profane Ascension. The Pale Elf and the Bone Picker are faced with an even more desperate choice in that glow of Infernal magic.

CW: violence, angst, Pale Elf Quest spoilers, heartache, impossible choices, Catharsis, and near death experiences.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 18: Arising…

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Dagger bit flesh, one last werewolf felled in the Ballroom. Blood everywhere, it covered them all, but Astarion grinned in wicked delight as he took in their progress. The Palace would be gutted, and she would be saved. Cazador would be dead, and with any luck, he might just ensure immortality and power and prestige for them both. Forever.

He looked into the faces of his friends, all just as bloodied and breathless as he was.

And what was more, they all grinned back, panting and bent over with exhaustion some, well, Gale unsurprisingly. But they all were with him.

It took a matter of moments for them to find the way to the dungeons, his stomach sinking, his undead heart somehow racing, almost tangible again in his chest as they lowered to the crypt.

Foul air hit their faces, rot and putrefaction and mold, a place he didn’t even know existed. And yet, somehow, the perfect place for Cazador to wallow and bait his trap. The sewer rat that he was.

Cells lined the walls once they reached the bottom, hundreds of glowing red eyes staring at him, clamors of parched voices, some that had haunted him for centuries.

“Are all these…?” Shadowheart’s question died on her lips as the answer became too clear.

“Targets… Victims…. More… spawn….” Astarion kept his eyes fixed ahead. “They should have been dead, drained and dismembered,” he hissed, betrayal upon betrayal festering in his stomach now. “He must need them, must be part of his plan….”

“There must be hundreds… thousands…” Halsin’s voice almost shook at the atrocity.

But atrocity had been a daily part of his life for all his years enslaved. Astarion could only push forward, unable to look or listen at the faces he still saw in his nightmares, those torturous visions that plagued him any time he wasn’t dreaming about…

“Cordehlia,” he froze outside a cell, empty and blood spattered. Crouching, he touched his fingers in the red pool of sticky blood and licked it. “Her scent is here,” he whispered, pressed and taught as every instinct to kill began to take hold. “She was here, but it’s not her blood,” he stood smirking. “Ghast and werewolf, at least she put them through the hells, by the look of it. Unarmed too.” He absentmindedly tapped the dagger at his hip.

“Of course she did,” Karalch gave a small, slight laugh, unusual for her. “That’s our girl.”

“But it doesn’t tell why so many other victims, why so many monsters,” Wyll’s voice sliced through as sharp as his blade.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance….”

The scent of brimstone and sulfur, the sting of Infernal magic in the air, that velvet baritone voice, only one Cambion would offer help one last time… just a small, black and molten form hovered at their eye level. Slowly, those dark sunken eyes, that hard-lined face materialized before them all. Half-formed from the neck up, that familiar face smirked at them.

Raphael.

“What the fuck do you want?” Astarion rounded, fangs bared and fists clenched. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too busy to thank you for gracing us with your presence, devil,” Astarion snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words as he gave a subtle bow of his head. “If you slow me down now, you’ll find yourself short not two… but three horns someday….”

He didn’t mean horns alone. That made Karlach snicker.

But Astarion couldn’t enjoy the mirth, not when he was so very close now. That hurried bite in his words, he met Raphael’s black stare with disgust. “I don’t know why you think we might need assistance, what with facing down my old master with his army of an untold, unknown number of spawn, oh and he has the love of my life somewhere here….” He sneered, feral and fangs flashing. I think we have it under control, Raphael, so you can burst into mist and let me keep… going.” Spit flying, he snarled by the end.

“The spawn are not an army, my toothsome friend, they are his offering to Mephistopheles, the seven-thousand souls required for Cazador’s Ascension, in addition to your siblings’ and yours of course.”

The information smacked him in the chest. And every one of his companions seemed to stop breathing. “Seven-thousand souls…” Gale barely whispered in horrified reverence. Astarion rolled his eyes, of course the Wizard couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“But there is more you should know, my friends. Cazador has sampled some, a mere sliver, of the power the Vampire Ascendant will possess once the Rite is completed. That’s how he faced the thin light of dawn, how his spawn could appear in your rooms, how he could subdue that menacing and beautiful future bride of yours, Astarion.”

“I’d prefer if you quit spying on us, strange devil,” Astarion’s nostrils flared. “But since you’ve seen so much, any last warnings or advice for once?”

The black, molten form of Raphael suddenly looked very serious. “Take care of his bite,” he warned with deadly tone. “One fang through the skin, and the necrotic magic of the Ascendant will take hold, death will be slow but inevitable, allowing for the Vampire Lord enough time to decide, to torture or to turn his victim…. But there will be no amount of magic that can prevent that fate.”

Every breath held tight, even Astarion. Dread formed over his slow-beating heart, arms aching to hold her one more time. Heavy silence fell, once again broken. “By Silvanus,” Halisin sighed.

“Just remember, it wasn’t Silvanus who warned you, Astarion, it was me…” Raphael’s rippling voice chuckled into nothing as the apparition faded as well.

“For fucks sake…” Karlach bemoaned their situation as she loaded arrows into her crossbow. “Nobody is getting bitten today, dammit.”

“No,” Astarion rolled his shoulders and flashed them a smile… the deadliest they had ever seen, more fangs than mirth, more darkness in his eyes than crimson as he glanced one more time where his love had been held. “But someone is going to be turned inside out for what they have done to me and my love.” He unsheathed his shortsword and her glittering dagger with a hiss of metal. “I can promise you that.”

Air stung with magic, stank with rot. He could feel the scars on his back stinging, glimpsing the way his six siblings hung suspended by magic, their own scars aglow with infernal power.

But that wasn’t what his eyes searched for. The second he spied her at the bottom of the stairs, her skin pale and fiery hair tangled, he couldn’t stop. Astarion flew headlong into the danger, the second her silver eyes locked into his, a smile of love and relief and bloodlust crossed her own face, he only hastened all the more.

Cazador held her firm, her body clutched against his chest, arms bound before her with simple rope. “The prodigal son returns,” his Master called, even as Astarion panted and rushed with blade and dagger drawn. “You're so predictable, boy, so easy to break and crack into pieces.”

A roar in his throat, her bright dagger raised over his head, he was ready to strike. Until Cazador waved that massive staff, a wall of hot magic, singeing and red, slammed into him. He was so close, barely an arm’s reach from her… from him. But glowing red sigils burned around his wrists, his breath catching as it scorched in his throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“Only if you don’t let me do it first,” Cordehlia hissed and thrashed, elbowing the vampire in his chest. To no effect.

“It’s going to be quite hard to do that, now that my will has wrapped itself around you again, boy.”

The circlets of red grew brighter, Astarion grunting as he bit his teeth firmly shut. He wouldn’t give Cazador the satisfaction of another scream or grunt in pain. “Fuck you,” he ground out against the agony rushing through his body. “You have me, let her go, you bastard.”

“I’ll let her go, once she witnesses you fulfilling your true destiny, thankless child.” Cazador cackled, waving that fearsome staff of his to intensify the hissing sounds of flesh burning, increasing the glow of those shackles on her love’s wrists. “You were made to be consumed.”

“Astarion!” Cordehlia cried, wrestling against the iron hold around her frame. “No, you were made to destroy, my love. You were made in the darkness under pressure like adamantine, just like me. You were made to avenge yourself against him….”

“Shut up, you whore,” Cazador gripped his hand around her mouth, but she bit through his pale, flaky skin, only to yell louder once that vampire squealed in pain.

“He killed your parents, he beat me from your memory, used you, defiled you, and yet we found each other again. You will fight, my love, fight and win, Astar—“

That cold, steely grip clutched around her throat, and Cordehlia sputtered for air beneath it.

Astairon’s body writhed, twisting and strengthening as he grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Every iota of his love for her boiled to the surface, every bit of his rage burst from inside him, his need to be free, to be with her exploded from within. Hissing, shattering, the binding magic broke from his wrists. The sigils of his infernal scars decimated in an instant, and Astarion stretched his arms and bared his fangs. The only thing brighter than his teeth was that dagger still held firmly in his fingers.

Freed.

“Impossible…” Cazador snarled, his fingers releasing from her throat enough for Cordehlia to gasp in some air. “Even now, you resist? Foolish, stupid boy and his foolish, stupid whore.” Long fingers gripped into her hair and pulled her head sharply to the side, her neck bones almost cracking at the force. “You should have known your place, child.”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to watch it all happen so slowly… the way her hands opened, her eyes locked on her dagger in his grip… the narrowing of her gaze, ordering him to toss it wordlessly….

It happened so quickly, so slowly at once. That bright dagger sailed through the air, unwavering from his dexterous grip until it landed square in her outstretched hand. A smile crossed his face as she held it firm and fast, turning it to sink it into the soft belly behind her. A satisfied slick noise filed the dungeon as it sank home.

But her face flashed from triumph to agony. From bloodlust to torment. Astarion’s eyes flew from her perfect lips, her shining eyes to the set of fangs that now buried in her neck.

Watching in horror as Cazador sank his deadly fangs in her flesh.

Instantly, he released that bite, dagger buried in his gut through his ostentatious jerkin. The vampire stumbled back, that nefarious staff of his falling to the ground. But as their companions descended on his old master with light spells and damaging blows, Astarion could only move slowly, as if trapped in quicksand, reaching to catch her.

Her body was shaking, necrotic streaks already darkening the shallow bite on her neck. Perfect pale skin stained dark, her beautiful face gathering beads of sweat as the poison already crept through her veins. Astarion could only cradle her, warm tears finally dripping down his cheek, lips unable to say much of anything but the music of her name over and over again as he held her against his chest.

Throat bobbing, she swallowed through the agony, “I got him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, my love,” a feeble smile and tear streaked voice replying as he stroked her hair. All he could hear was the slowing beat of her heart, the din of battle beyond them so distant, so… unimportant compared to finally holding her once more.

Maybe only one more time.

Halsin crowded over them, “Bring him here,” he ordered to the rest of their party. Scuffling and dragging, slung between Karlach and Wyll, Cazador hung limp, but still alive. Or undead. Halsin pawed at Astarion’s shoulder, something warm and assuring and irritating about it all at once. “It’s for you to decide.”

Astarion looked up, eyes burning with hate as he locked his gaze on his old master. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, not with the way her arms clung around his chest, the way her heart seemed to slow beneath his own ribs. “Do something, Cleric,” he snarled, gesturing with his head at how his love began to visibly shiver.

“Astarion…” Shadowheart tried to cajole, but he would not take that patronizing tone.

“Halsin, Gale,” he snapped their names. “What good is all that magic and faith if you can’t heal her.”

“The devil said it wasn’t curable, but I could try to slow the poison,” Halsin finally sighed. “But there is only one solution to this…”

“My death,” Cordehlia shuddered, teeth chattering as her flesh began to grow impossibly cold. “I can… feel it. Have dreaded this for so long…”

“Or your undeath….” He whispered, just to himself. Astarion glanced up, taking in the carnage and misery and atrocity around them. Blood-slicked stone, throbbing infernal magic still holding his siblings bound by their scars. That one missing space meant for his death, waiting to be filled to complete the Rite…. “Do what you can to buy us time, Druid,” he ordered, lifting her shaking body towards the Elf, to place in his arms, carefully like the tender babe she was to him. “I have matters to attend to.”

“Astarion,” Cordehlia moaned as she was moved. “What are you d-doing?”

“What I promised you,” he knelt as Halsin rested her against him on the ground, cradling her in his large, warm arms. “I’m going to save you, to protect you, to make you my Bride.”

“Seven… th-thousand…” she managed to say before a wrack of pain shot through her body and made her teeth snap tight.

Her love’s palm cradled her cheek, his breath cold on her lips as he kissed her so, so softly. “Seven-thousand souls is a small price to pay to save your one, beautiful one,” he murmured.

“A-starion…” she managed to hiss through her torment.

“Yes, my darling?” he replied, lips still brushing hers even as they, too, grew cold.

“Use… my dagger,” she swallowed.

Astarion smiled, a kiss on her forehead, cold and wet with her body’s agony. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

Standing, he crossed to that monster, his former tormentor, and threw Cazador’s tunic up over his head. Raising at last, he found Gale’s hand so close, that bloodied, bright dagger in his offering palm. “Use the tadpole,” the Wizard nodded. “See your own scars, and it should suffice to appease the Infernal contract.” He winced as he heard his own words. “Do it for Cordehlia.”

Never before had he disrobed faster, armor and shirt lying at his feet as he took that warm blade in his hand. Astarion could say nothing, had to ignore the way he could just see from the corner of his eyes at how the Druid tried every kind of magic to draw the poison out. Shaking his head, he kept that focus locked on the sight of his own back, seeing his scars through Gale’s eyes. But all the while, he kept his pointed ear trained on Cordhelia’s heart, how it sometimes raced and sometimes slowed. And it only spurred his own markings to be that much sharper and more precise in that monster’s flesh. A matter of moments, and he finally pronounced his work completed.

He picked up that horrific staff, ignoring the way it vibrated in his hand, overwhelmed by its rush of magic as it coursed up his arm and down his spine. Power like nothing he could have ever imagine flooded his body, instantly his tongue danced over the words of the Profane Rite, put on his lips by the magic in the air. He could have watched with twisted pleasure as Cazador’s nearly-broken body flew to be suspended in his own place. He could have savored the way magic raced up and down every nerve as the spell tripped off his tongue, as the staff seemed to move his body of its own.

No, all he could watch was Cordehlia’s silver eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open to watch him ascending. All he could savor was the way his heart filled with the promise of a power so overwhelming, he could finally do something worthy of her. Finally able to save her. Feeling it finally begin to beat for her again.

The world around him seemed to still, to sharpen and explode all at once. Dropping that staff to the ground, he rushed to her once more. Her hand trembled in his grasp, skin waxy and cold. Halsin’s big green eyes looked back at him, grief stricken and saying more than words could. He passed her feeble body into Astarion’s outstretched arms as he crouched on the dirty floor beside them. Her head lolled against his shoulder, silver eyes half shut, forced open to looking into his handsome face until the end.

“You’ll have to fight poison with poison,” the Druid smiled weakly, trying to reassure the Ascendant being before him that radiated magic, Astarion’s skin paler than death and eyes glowing like demonic flame.

Astarion nodded, he didn’t want to do this here. Not in a dungeon, not in his old home of such torment, and certainly not in front of all the others. But there was no choice now, and the price paid was too great to fail now. “Cordehlia,” he whispered in her ear, “thank you for trusting me, I just need you to trust me a little further.”

She managed a nod with her eyes still barely opened.

Blood filled his mouth, and fangs sank into the holes Cazador had made. His mouth sucked the tainted blood from her veins, almost souring his stomach as he drank until the taste of that monster’s magic was gone from her body.

Until there was only the taste of her on his tongue again.

And yet, even as she showed all the signs of being bloodless, her heart beat steadied with his magic now in her veins. It would be enough for now, enough to start her own rite, enough to keep her from true death for a while. He stood, feeling waves of power rippling from his muscles in new and strange ways. Suddenly far too aware of the way his heart thumped in his chest again—rapid and alarmed and living. Too ironic, too sad to be truly appreciated as her own pulse continued to slow. “We have to get her back to the Elfsong,” he pronounced, blood dripping down his chin, standing to carry her tenderly in his arms. “I will need to complete my work in privacy.”

Halsin cocked a brow. “Very well,” he nodded, leading them all back through the halls until they could reach the brush of daylight once more, followed by a simple teleportation back to their suite of rooms.

Not a second was wasted. Not now that he was so close. Ascended. Freed. More power at the tips of fingers than any of his kind had ever possessed. And yet his happiness laid unmoving against his chest, nearly lifeless against his now-beating heart.

Astarion kicked open the door to a set of rooms apart, setting her on the dark, postered bed. Quickly, he bit her wrist, sucking more and more of her sweet vintage straight from her veins.

His heart broke at all of what could have been, at all the various futures and paths that faded from view. She wasn’t even conscious to enjoy this union, to feel the way their essences combined into one, stronger and equal and powerful the more he drank her down. She couldn’t hear the little praises he poured over her, her ears deaf to every time he called her his love, his darling, his treasure, the mate of his heart and soul…

But he poured them over her barely-conscious face all the same, peppering her face with bloodied kisses even as it grew white as a sheet.

One last bite was all it would take. This love of his life, near dead and almost lost to him a second time, she would be his forever.

As his fangs sunk into her neck, marking afresh the scars that had formed there over their weeks reunited, he drank his fill. Breaking away at last once she neared the very dregs of her life, Astarion stopped. He was breathless, his stomach full to near bursting, even though it no longer throbbed with a spawn’s hunger.

Hand shaking, he brought his wrist to his teeth, tearing a slit in own flesh to place against her chalky lips. He could sense it entering her body, dripping down her throat to pool in her own belly. But he held his breath all the same.

Body rigid, he had never been more afraid than right now, not as his love’s life hung in the balance, not as she counted on his power to bring her back into the same realm as him, even if it was under the veil of undeath.

Her lips stirred first against his wound, just a little movement, just a slight suck. Crimson eyes flashed open were once silver ones shined at him, and Corehelia smiled as she sucked down his blood.

Astarion finally breathed, his chest easing at last.

His bride was arising.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I do know that Ascension can be divisive, however I hope this gives some firmer ground to stand on… spoonfuls of “Burn the world” for his love and “Touch her and you die” make it go down smoother, I hope. No more long lost love💞

Aeterna Amantes

3 more days until Chapter 19: Dark Kissing, when she awakens🩸💞🗡️

[kudzuoath]

Green-Eyed Regard

An unexpected visitor takes up with Temperance on the road to Baldur's Gate. She can't say she ever felt so worried about gaining the approval of a cat. Or more specifically, Gale's tressym, Tara.

–

There was a weight on her chest.

Temperance went from sleep to wakefulness between one breath and the next. Eyes still closed, she feigned dreaming and took in what she could. That pressure of course – very slight – the sound of Gale’s steady breathing, the crackle of the campfire beyond the tent they shared.

Nothing like the scent of blood disturbed the peace of the night. There were no shouts, barks, owlbear screeches.

Wary, she opened one eye.

The calico face of a cat swam out of the darkness above her. Luminous, judging eyes peered down at her from about two inches in front of her nose.

“Ah. There. I was wondering how long you were going to feign your disinterest in the one who has so graciously decided to perch upon you,” she said.

Temperance blinked. The cat was talking. She – no, she hadn’t taken a potion of animal speaking. They’d run out of those ages ago. And besides, she must have been asleep for hours before this point. The quality of light through the cracked tent flap was paler than it would have been if it were still the middle of the night.

Well.

She might as well embrace the strangeness.

“My apologies,” she croaked, voice rough with sleep.

The cat seemed to sit up straighter, lifting her face and making a little ‘mrrp’ of approval. The shift revealed more of her fluffy body – including a lovely set of feathered wings. Temperance only just managed to restrain herself.

Wings – a Tressym.

Gale’s tressym!

Or – well, either that or the man was simply bait for magical creatures.

“You must be Tara,” she said, unable to help her grin. “Gale’s friend?”

Tara lifted one paw – so like Gale’s own gestures she wondered who got it from who – and nodded. “Indeed I am! I suppose if you’re sharing a tent with Mr. Dekarios the two of you must be close? Hm?”

The Tressym leaned in close enough for her nose to touch the end of Temperance’s. Those luminous green eyes filled the world, and stared at her like they were uncertain if she were a mouse or a mephit.

While she didn’t mean to, she felt her smile go a little sappy. “You know he probably had an elaborate plan to introduce us.”

“That is not an answer to my question, young lady!” Tara batted at one of her horns and bared her needle sharp teeth.

Temperance turned her head, wincing exaggeratedly. Genuinely annoyed or not, Tara didn’t seem inclined to actually do her harm.

Beside her, she could see Gale still fast asleep. His hair was a disheveled mess, his beard was going in too many different directions to count, and his face was as relaxed as she’d ever seen it. This would be his best friend, wouldn’t it? She shifted carefully so as not to dislodge the tressym, and looked back up at her.

“I love him.” It was easy to say. He was so easy to love. Well – perhaps a bit exasperating at times – but no less the person her fractured heart went out to. “I hope that answers enough?”

Tara settled sphinx-like on Temperance’s sternum. She felt more than saw the way her tail switched back and forth. Her own tail had been known to do the same thing when she was thinking. Typically when she was thinking tactically.

“Yes,” Tara agreed – though not with Temperance. “Yes, I do believe you’ll do nicely. Mrs. Dekarios and I were both wondering when our young man might finally find someone to settle down with! We were beginning to think he never would.”

She blinked. “I – what?”

“I said –”

Temperance shook her head. “I heard you. No, I meant – well.” An awkward gesture skyward. “What about Mystra?”

Not for the first time she felt slightly lightheaded acknowledging the fact that Gale’s last relationship was with a goddess. It didn’t bother her – but it certainly made a woman want to stare off into space and contemplate what counted for normal these days.

“Pish,” said Tara. “As if one can truly settle down with a goddess. It’s not the same, you know. And dear Mrs. Dekarios can hardly expect grandchildren from that affair!”

Temperance choked. Then she went pink. And last she covered her face with one hand and shook with silent laughter. For some reason, all she could think of was Gale being Dame Aylin’s father. She was the only aasimar Temperance knew – and somehow she couldn’t imagine any other kind of personality to the child of a goddess.

A paw on her cheek, claws like little pinpricks. Not doing any damage, simply extended in a catlike reminder of their presence. “And what, pray tell, is so funny about that idea?”

“I don’t know if I can explain if you haven’t met Dame Aylin already.”

“The pale one?”

“I don’t think you know how much that doesn’t narrow things down.”

Tara sniffed. “With the wings.”

“Then yes, that’s her.”

“Well. She was being – if you’ll pardon my language – rather boisterous with that other young woman when I dropped by.”

“She’s been known to be that,” Temperance said dryly.

By now everyone in camp was well aware of how much Isobel and Aylin had missed each other. Shadowheart had finally lost all patience and cast silence on their tent two days back. Even Astarion – who only needed three hours of meditation a night – had been relieved.

Tara stepped lightly off of Temperance – allowing her to finally sit up – and padded over to Gale. Her face hovered over his as she eyed him with the most worried, critical expression Temperance had ever seen on a cat.

“Has he been alright? He’s been gone for some time, now...”

Temperance considered. He wasn’t set on dying for his goddess any longer. But something else was going on. When they’d finally surfaced in Moonrise Towers again, after fighting Myrkul’s avatar he’d breezed right past the moment that still filled her heart with ice water. Fixated instead on the black twists of metal perched upon the elder brain. On the crown.

And something about the fever bright quality of his eyes still bothered her.

Though of course, he had just been knocked silly and spent an entire day fighting. It wasn’t that odd to be a little… off kilter.

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?” The tressym asked. “You will inform me of it at once –”

“A lot has happened,” Temperance said. She moved to sit cross legged, giving up on any hope of sleeping. “I know you know about the orb.”

“Naturally.”

“Mystra sent Elmister…” what a bloody goddamn sentence that was. Who would have ever expected her to be able to speak of goddesses and heroes as casually as Wyll spoke of wine and dancing?

More than the strangeness though, there was the outrage. A flame lit itself in her heart that day after leaving the Grymforge. It had yet to diminish.

“He told Gale there was a way to earn her forgiveness. And her idea of forgiveness was blowing himself up on purpose.”

“She what?!” Tara yowled.

Temperance was glad the cat was no longer on her with how her claws shredded at the tarp below them. It was gratifying though, to see someone from Gale’s past be properly angry about it. Her anger didn’t quite apply to Elminster – but she couldn’t say she was very fond of the man given the role he’d taken on. Even if it wasn’t one he could necessarily say no to.

“Oh if I get my claws on her I’ll – I’ll –” Tara descended into hissing and spitting and made a combative swipe at the air, wings up, fur bristling.

“I’ll help,” Temperance said. Even though she knew her chances of biting a goddess were astronomically low. And more importantly – Gale wouldn’t want her to. She sighed and leaned into one of her hands. Much as she didn’t want to give Mystra any grace – she did want Tara to have all the information. “There's a cult. We were to track down its heart… and when we did, we discovered that heart was an enslaved elder brain.”

“I… I see,” Tara said, taken aback. “How on earth did he manage to get himself tangled up in all of this…”

“Well,” said Gale, startling them both. “When you’re abducted by a mind flayer ship and infected with one of their young, it's a tad difficult to avoid looking into the matter.”

“Mr. Dekarios!” Tara said, going up on her hind legs so she could put her forepaws on him. Like a very small concerned parent. Her wings flared out, batting Temperance slightly. “Why, you’ve had no idea how worried I’ve been! And Mind flayers! How long do you have? We must eject that foul passenger immediately.”

Gale smiled, eyes overbright and voice a little hoarse. “It's gratifying to hear you haven’t given up on me.”

Tara sat back primly. “I’ve known you since before you had that thing on your face, let alone what's in it. I’m hardly going to let you go now. You’ve been a worrisome but all together worthy companion to have!”

“Why you have such a problem with my beard I’ll never understand,” he said, laughing. There was a watery quality to it.

“I think he looks dashing,” Temperance said dryly. Without thinking, she reached out and smoothed his beard down. Something that made Gale look at her with such affection her face went hot.

The tressym sniffed. “Blinded by love, clearly.” And then she sighed. “I suppose I’ve dealt with worse flaws in a pet.”

“Oh you’ve your work out for you yet, Tara my dear. She’s just as curious as I am.”

“Hmm…” Once more, Temperance was being eyed by the tressym. “Judging by those arms of hers, she isn’t a wizard. I do believe I can handle it, Mr. Dekarios.”

Temperance surprised herself with a loud bark of laughter that she quickly covered with one hand. She’d been working on letting those out lately. Unfortunate that it had to happen at the crack of dawn.

“Now,” said Tara. “I expect you to introduce me?"

“Ah, of course.” Gale reached out and took Temperance’s hand. Absently running his thumb over her scarred knuckles and looking at her with an expression so soft she felt like she’d submerged herself in a hot bath. Oh they both had it bad, didn’t they? “Tara! This is my love, Temperance. Temperance, this is my dear friend, Tara.”

Tara inclined her head like a queen. “Yes. Yes I do believe I approve. Even if you also insist on having things on your face.”

“Alas, the tattoos are here to stay,” she said, unoffended. “It is lovely to meet you, Tara. Gale speaks of you often.”

The Tressym smiled in the way only felines could, tail switching back and forth again. “I cannot wait to let Mrs. Dekarios knows about the two of you!”

[vioartemis]

I'll die with you (part 4)

(Tara Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: After Chad's death, you decided you had to do something. With Mindy and your mom's help, you come up with a plan to trapped Ghostface. Little do you know that the price to pay will be high... Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 Warnings: blood, death of character (I swear this time it's for the plot, don't kill me it hurts me too), angst a/n: I drew a little plan so you can see the location (even for I needed it at one point so...) hope you can read my handwriting lol (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

"We're safe now, right?" Lexi asked, breaking the silence

You didn't know how much you slept that night, but certainly not enough to talk about that right after waking up.

No one answered her question, only sharing a knowing look.

"With him we're never safe. Trust me, I know"

"But Damian's in jail!"

"Chances are there is more than one killer"

"Okay then, we just have to hide until the other one gets caught" Lexi shrugged her shoulders

"It's useless, he always finds us"

"... Maybe we could use it against him" everyone turned to look at you "We lure him, and we lock him up"

"It's risky, very risky" your mom warned

"It is, but it could work. We just need a bait..."

"And how do we decide who will be the bait? I don't want to be the bait" Lexi complained

"If we figure out Ghostface's next victim... we have our bait" Tara intervened

You all stayed silent a moment, trying to think of the next victim.

"... Do you really think he wanted to kill me that night? I mean- okay he stabbed be and everything, but if he really wanted to kill me, he just had to slit my throat, right? So why didn't he did that, to be 100% sure I would die?"

More silence. You took it as a sign to continue.

"What if... what if he had something against me - like Amber and Richie with Sam - and wanted to hurt me before killing me?"

"Why do you make it all about yourself? Chad doesn't have anything to do with you"

"We're friends since forever, he's very dear to me"

"Okay but what if you're wrong and it has nothing to do with you? And you surviving the attack was just pure luck? 'A painful death' isn't a term you usually use when you don't want to kill someone"

"Maybe he wants to make us believe that to muddy the waters. I don't know okay, I'm trying to figure out why this is happening"

"Yeah well, I your theory's wrong we could all die"

"At least I'm trying, me. You're not helpful at all, just being rude like that."

Tara placed a hand on your thigh to calm you down and kissed you.

"It's okay baby, she's not worth it, I know you're doing your best" she whispered against your lips

"To be honest, whatever we do, we have a chance to die" Gale started "I have an idea for the where. The how, however..."

She tried to explain what the inside of the building looked like, but none of you really understood so she drew a quick sketch of it. It was way easier to understand that way.

"Now as I said before, how we can trap him is another story"

"I think I know"

It was the first time Mindy spoke since you woke up. She looked determined to do everything in her power to avenger her brother.

"Give me a paper, I'll show you"

Your mom obeyed and gave the girl paper and a pencil. She started to draw, and a few minutes after, showed you her plan:

"Let me explain in details" she said, seeing your confused faces "So the doted lines are the retractable glass windows / walls. According to Gale we have to buttons here, and one here. Those two activate this wall, and this one activates the two others. Did I lost anyone?"

You all shook your heads. For now, it was pretty clear.

"Okay, good. Now this is the first floor, right? I think you said at the ground floor there was other glass walls? Okay we'll see that later, but that's where Sam, Lexi and I are gonna stay"

"Wait, I want to be with Tara too" Sam protested

"We can't have too many people at the same floor. Don't worry, Y/n will be there to protect her." Mindy turned back to her plan "So, Y/n and Tara are the bait, they're going to try to lure him at the first floor, so Gale will be able to trap him with the glass walls and separate him from the girls. The other wall is the safe escape."

She gave more details after that. It was a good plan, much better than anything you could've think of.

"Any questions? No? Great"

"Anyone wants a coffee before we put our life in danger?" Lexi sighed

You all nodded. A coffee wouldn't hurt after all.

"Okay, I'm gonna get them, I'll be right back"

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Now that you were there, you weren't so sure it was a good idea after all. What if it went wrong? What if Tara was hurt? You glanced over to your girlfriend. She seemed as nervous as you were.

"That's a bad idea, maybe we should-"

You were interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. You took it, hands shaking.

Probably: Damian Walker.

You looked at Tara and nodded, the signal for her to text the others to get ready. You picked up hesitantly.

"Hello?"

"Y/n, Y/n... It's a shame I didn't get you last time, really. For you I mean. If I had killed you... you wouldn't have had to watch her die before your eyes."

"O-oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

He hung up, leaving you even more nervous. Suddenly, a tall figure appeared. As expected he was here. Watching you from the other end of the corridor.

You back up slightly, taking Tara's hand to tell her it was going to be okay. Ghostface didn't move, he was just watching you, analyzing the building.

"We're here! Come and get us if you can, asshole!" you provoked him to make him follow you

He tilted his head to the side before taking a knife out of a pocket in his costume. And then he threw it in your direction, cutting your arm. You hissed in pain, putting your other hand on the wound.

He took a step forward then another one, faster, and in less than a second he was rushing towards you.

You started running, Tara by your side. She opened the stairwell's door and started climbing up the stairs, making sure Ghostface was still following you.

You kicked opened the door to the second floor and ran to the glass wall behind which your mother was, ready to push the button.

"Where is he?" she asked, voice muffled by the wall

"What?"

Out of breath, you turned around to look behind you. He was not here. When did he stop following you?

"Shit shit shit..." you mumbled, panicked, blood running down your arm

All of a sudden, Tara screamed.

"Gale!"

You turned around at the same time as your mother and felt your heart drop immediately. He was here. On the wrong side of the wall.

Your first reflex was to rush to the button to open the glass window. You pressed it, but nothing happened. You tried again, panic rising. Still nothing.

On the other side, Gale tried to press the button as well. It was not working. Ghostface tilted his head to the side. You knew he was smiling under his mask.

Tara tried to press the button too, but it was useless. You ran to the stairwell's door. Going back down and to the other side of the floor was the only available option now.

You tried to push it, but it didn't move. Not even an inch. Someone blocked it from outside.

"No no no no no... come on please..."

You kicked the door, threw yourself at it, in vain. Tara was fighting with the button desperately as Gale was fighting Ghostface with almost as much despair.

You took your phone and called Sam, covering your screen with blood. You started talking as soon as she picked up, voice shaking.

"Sam he's with my mom! We're stuck on the other side! You have to help her or she's gonna- she's gonna-"

"Fuck." you could hear her run with the others "We're here in a second" loud noises, as if they were hitting something "Y/n t-the door is locked... we can't- we can't-"

"Try to open it!"

You ran back to the glass window and hit the button, but it still wasn't working. You couldn't do anything.

You couldn't do anything while your mom was fighting for her life on the other side of this stupid wall. From where you were, you could see the stairwell's door shaking. The others were trying hard to open it.

You watched in horror as Ghostface stabbed Gale in the leg, in the stomach, in the arm. She was fighting back as strongly as she could, but she was no match.

You were desperately trying to make the button work, even if you knew it wouldn't.

He threw her to the ground, but she kicked him off her and stood up with difficulty, going in your direction. She didn't see him behind her. She couldn't do anything when he grabbed her by the shoulders and sunk his knife in her chest.

She tried to fight his grip, but she weakened with every passing second.

You had abandoned the button and were now hitting the glass window in hope to break it, screaming her name, but only managed to stain it with your blood.

He looked at you in the eye, challenging you, before taking the knife out of your mom's chest and dragging it to her throat.

"No..." you backed away from the window, tears in your eyes "Please don't..."

He nodded slowly. Yes. I'm gonna do it. And you can't save her.

She knew. She knew she was going to die. You could see it in her eyes.

"I love you, I'm sorry" she mouthed to you

You watched, helpless, as he pressed the knife against the flesh of her throat, slicing it opened. Your heart shattered.

The scream that left your throat as you fell on your knees was heart wrenching.

[Previous part] || [Next part]

[spacemonkeysalsa]

"it's so weird that Astarion's racism isn't confronted in any meaningful way"

I genuinely can't tell what's bait and I don't think I am the problem, everyone else is. But I am not going to engage with people on twitter about this game any more, because it's usually just bait.

But it also could be someone who never played act three or only played act three one way, because Astarion's racism against the Gur is addressed as a bit if an arc within the story. Only as subtext and only if you don't ascend him, and keep Gandrel and Ulma alive. But it's something. There's also the interesting mechanical change of him going from disapproving of saving gnomes in act one, to approving of saving gnomes twice in act three.

And, yeah, that's subtle.

But it's a piece of the game.

It's subtle compared to what can happen with Lae'zel, or Shadowheart, if you make certain choices. But it's more than what you get for Wyll and Karlach.

I was actually really disappointed that Flo never showed up in act three, and that Karlach's attitude towards cambions (many of whom probably had about as much a choice in their involvement with Zariel as she did) just gets dropped. Same with Wyll and his animosity towards the goblins, like why didn't we meet a goblin hanging out in Baldur's Gate, who's a huge fan of the Blade of Frontiers? Why didn't we meet any fans of the Blade? Why wasn't stop the presses about Wyll, or why couldn't the story we publish be Blade of Frontiers fanfiction?

And Gale is human and from Waterdeep, which in FR means he's the equivalent of like a wealthy white one percenter.

Like I do think the game could have done more with fantasy racism. There were opportunities not taken. But Astarion's storyline at least addressed it and called it racism. Which I kinda think might be the reason that some people treat him as "the racist" in the group, because the writers used the word, so it's harder to miss.

[la-la-lalalala-la-lala-la-la]

I romanced Wyll in my Gale origin run, and while I like the pairing, I was pretty dissapointed with all the bugs. Here's a summary of that playthrough:

Wyll: "I'm going to be the grand duke, and you'll be my courtier."

Gale: "That sounds lovely."

(One day later)

Wyll: "You'll come to Avernus to fight devils and demons with me, right?"

Gale: "I thought... No matter. I will go anywhere, so long as I am with you."

(A few days later)

Wyll: "I'm so excited to marry you and become the grand duke. Won't it be great, Karlach?"

Gale: "Ah, so you are going to– Apologies, did you say Karlach?"

Wyll: "Now, I wonder what Mystra has to say to Gale..."

(Later, after six months adventuring in the hells)

Wyll: "Man, being the Grand Duke sure is hard work. Anyways, I'm gonna go drink a BUNCH of wine now. Love you Lae'zel!"

Gale: *Sigh*

It's because I used him as bait for Grym, isn't it? He has a little alcoholism and a LOT of brain damage.

[fic--writer]

Dark Rolan fix sounds so good. What/How do you think Dark Rolan would react if Lia & Gale brought Tav back (there are numerous ways to do so I DnD as we see with Isobel) to take down Dark Rolan?

Hi dear Anonymous. Thanks for the question, it opens up so many avenues of development for the story:

• Dark Rolan would have suffered a powerful emotional blow when he saw Tav. Despite all his cruelty and evil deeds, she could awaken his forgotten feelings. Perhaps he would have frozen in the first moment, gripped by memories and mixed feelings. Tav and Dark Rolan could have a tense dialogue that mixes love and hate. Tav accuses him of treason and murder, but at the same time expresses his pain of loss and his feelings. Dark Rolan, torn by contradictions, first tries to justify his actions, but then begins to have doubts. The dialogue becomes an emotional battle in which every word is like a blow, and he is forced to choose between his dark path and the possibility of redemption.

• Dark Rolan may also see Tav's return as a threat. If he is already deep in the dark, he may see her as an attempt to take his power or overthrow him. In this case, he may explode with rage and try to destroy her despite his feelings. This could also lead to a violent confrontation with the resistance.

• Dark Rolan, being cunning and manipulative, may have used Tav's return as an opportunity to consolidate his power. He could capture her and use her as a bargaining chip against his enemies, to control or blackmail them. He has conflicting feelings about holding her captive, torn between his love and his need to dominate. This creates tension as his enemies try to rescue Tav and he himself struggles with internal contradictions. This can lead to a devastating battle or an emotional breakdown.

• Dark Rolan might also have seen Tav's return as a new strategic opportunity. He could have tried to win her over by convincing her that his actions were justified or that he still loved her. He would then try to use her as an ally or symbol to increase his power and subdue his enemies.

• Tav's return could herald an epic final battle. Dark Rolan, realising that his path led to doom, could have chosen to fight a final battle pitting his forces of darkness against the forces of light, represented by members of the resistance led by Tav and Lia. This battle would have decided the fate not only of Rolan himself, but of the entire Sword Coast.

• Dark Rolan may try to use his feelings for Tav to his advantage, convincing her that his dark path is the only way to protect her and save the world. He talks about his plans and schemes, presenting them in such a light that Tav begins to question the rightness of his actions. This creates an emotional tension where Tav is forced to choose between love and staying true to her principles. She may even side with him for a time, setting the stage for future betrayal.

• Dark Rolan may become enraged at Lia and Gale attempt to use Tav against him. In a fit of rage, he vows revenge for their audacity and prepares a plan that will lead to their deaths. He uses Tav as bait to lure his enemies into a trap. This creates tension as Lia and Gale are forced to fight for their lives and Tav's as they try to overcome Rolan traps and devious plans.

• Tav's return is the last straw for Dark Rolan, and he is finally plunged into darkness. Seeing that his only love is now against him, he decides to abandon all human feelings and completely succumb to darkness. His transformation into absolute evil becomes the culmination of his downfall, and his vengeance and destruction becomes even more brutal and relentless. This will create a powerful tension as his enemies realise that they are now fighting not only their former friend, but a being who has lost all vestiges of humanity.

• Tav may have to sacrifice herself to save Dark Rolan. She dies again trying to awaken the remnants of humanity in him, and this event becomes a turning point for him. Realising the extent of his loss, he decides to use his powers to resurrect her. In the process of resurrection, however, he is forced to abandon his darkness. This creates a powerful emotional tension as he realises that the only way to bring her back is to give up everything he has gained on his dark path.

• Dark Rolan is able to face the fact that the Tav who has returned to him is actually an illusion or magical construct created by his enemies. Blinded by his senses, he fails to see the deception at once and spends his powers and resources protecting the illusory Tav. When the truth is revealed, he is faced with even more despair and anger, which can lead him to even more destructive actions.

Art by @krupa-grehnevya

[th-ramblr]

Me? Making up an RP server? Why... yes. [Join Link] (18+)

Baldur's Dweebs is a loose campaign-style Baldur's Gate 3 Roleplay Server that seeks to recreate the BG3 experience through written roleplay and with a little more nuance than the game itself allows, welcoming writers of Origins, Canons, Tavs, and OCs alike.

Still actively looking for people to claim Lae'zel, Karlach, Halsin, and Minthara if those characters pique anyone's interest!

Most other non-Origin canons are also up for grabs.

OOC / Server Rules: (more complete rules in the discord)

Be Excellent To Each Other

No discrimination of any kind towards both "privileged" (white, male, cis, straight, able-bodied, neurotypical, etc) and "unprivileged" (poc, female, trans, LGB, disabled, etc) groups. Respect must go both ways or you're not welcome here.

Admins and Mods are people too. Treat us how you'd like to be treated.

If you feel that another user is acting inappropriately, please bring it to the attention of one of our staff. If you are having problems with a staff member, bring it to the admin. Staff are not exempt from rules.

Admins / staff are community advocates and mediators, but not babysitters. We expect you to do your own due diligence about communication.

Keep All Topics To Appropriate Channels.

Avoid political talk.

Vague-posting, passive aggressive commentary, or harassment aimed at other current group members is a kickable offense.

Participating in "callout culture" is a kickable offense, except in the following circumstances and with hard, irrefutable evidence of the accused crimes:

-Malicious stalking & hardblock evasion -Sexual harassment -Grooming (regardless of ages) -OOC Pedophilia / Hebephilia / Ephebophilia -Death threats -Suicide baiting &/or "kill yourself" type behaviors -Targeted hate, harassment, and cyber-bullying -Generally anything that would legally fall under "criminal actions" in a court of law

Roleplay Rules:

The "Canon Claims" channel is for those who would like to be the server's "Main" version of any Baldur's Gate 3 canon character (Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale, etc). The channel works on a first-come first-serve basis.

Duplicates are allowed, but not considered "canon" to server-wide events and can only be played in "Non-Canon threads". (See further down)

All RP channels are required to use appropriate tags for threads. These tags include Public, Private, NSFW, Canon, and AU/Non-Canon.

In order to request a thread be marked "Canon", you must request the tag from admins. This is to avoid accidentally mismarking a thread or mismarking a thread in bad faith.

Private threads should list participants. Those not listed should ask the thread starter for an invitation first if they'd like to join the thread.

Canon Threads will be held to a higher standard of quality and realism than AU/Non-Canon threads, in order to maintain a cohesive narrative.

Questions and Answers:

Q: Are Duplicates allowed? A: Yes and no. For "Canon Threads", there is only 1 version of each canon muse allowed server-wide. However, there is no limit on duplicates in "AU/Non-Canon" threads.

Q: How many characters am I allowed to play? A: Currently, we want to limit Origin and Companion Canon muses to one per person. There is no limit on Tavs/OCs, characters from other franchises translated into BG3 (from anime series, live action shows, video games, etc), or non-Companion canon characters (such as Cazador, Raphael, Scratch, Thorm, Orin, Gortash, Orpheus, etc).

Q: Am I required to play a character infected with an Illithid/Mind Flayer parasite? A: No. In fact, we encourage that some not be.

Claims: (updated 2/15/2024)

Lae'zel - unclaimed

Shadowheart - claimed

Astarion - claimed

Gale - claimed

Wyll - claimed

Karlach - unclaimed

Dark Urge - claimed

Halsin - unclaimed

Minthara - unclaimed

Minsc - unclaimed

Jaheria - unclaimed

The Emperor - unclaimed

Raphael - claimed