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sassylegshayne · 2 years ago

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simp notes

this is a bonus chapter for 'support your local caffeine dealer'

okay that being said AHHHHH!!!!! I've had this written for so long and ik chapter three of mmi is taking a bit so I wanted to post this now!! I love it, it's a peak into their relationship past the fic w lots of introspection from shayne, it's adorable! 2.8 words! enjoy xx mwah 💓

series masterlist

Shayne woke up much earlier than he planned to, so he found himself sat in silence at your shared dining table, staring at his mug of coffee. He unintentionally mirrored your actions in the exact moment that brought him to this point today.

The start of your relationship was a bit rocky, filled with pining and misunderstandings, but Shayne wouldn't change a thing about it.

Four and a half years, one shared apartment, and two cats later, everything felt right. Not perfect yet, but close. Your lives meshed together perfectly in every little way he never imagined it would.

You had similar food tastes, but neither of you liked the other person's favorite snacks or cereals, so no arguments about stealing. You like opposing chores, making it easily to share the weight. You showered at night, him in the morning. You liked the same books, so you shared your libraries now.

You'd been promoted recently, the position allowing a bit more flexibility with your schedule; so you and Shayne often woke up together in the morning and arrived around the same time at night.

The welcome addition of you to his friend group even meant that making plans was extremely easy. Shayne was also immensely thankful to have you with him at pretty much ever group outting.

He felt like you two knew every small thing about each other, so the secret he was keeping weighed heavy. For three months and twelve days he has been keeping the biggest secret from you, and everyone else.

The small velvet box sat in the bottom drawer of your dresser, stuffed between a pair of jeans that were actually too short for Shayne and a pair of Halloween themed sweatpants that matched a pair of your own. He could find it blindfolded at this point with how often he took it from it's spot, almost four times a day, contemplating when it would be the right time. It didn't feel right until earlier in the morning.

Just at 7:39AM, Shayne shot out of his sleep, his heart fluttering as he glanced over his shoulder, finding you softly snoring. His alarm hadn't gone off yet, the two of you didn't need to be up until around ten.

You had the day off and Shayne only had one shoot on his schedule, one you were going to be apart of.

You had been in a couple of shoots in the few years since your relationship had been known to the internet. Some fans had recognized you from the crew and casts personal accounts, especially Kimmy and Damien's.

You were very well received in your first appearance at Shayne's graduation, your speech bringing him and most of your friends to tears. After that you had been brought into an 'Eat It Or Yeet It" video, getting your first chance to witness your boyfriend's grave mouth first hand. After all of the love for you came in, you appeared on a Board AF' episode and began making memes for 'Who Meme'd It?'

You kept your privacy and boundaries still, your social medias were all still set to private, making it clear that you'd appear on occasions, but wouldn't join.

Shayne was fully supportive when you told him this after he mentioned the idea of you coming in for a video. You loved your job, having moved up into management of the shop, the promotion coming as a huge surprise to you, but not to Shayne.

Today you and Shayne were do on set at 2PM, shooting another TNTL episode, as per request of the other's lined up in the shoot. Damien and Courtney were quick to shoot Kimmy the idea, which wasn't hard to greenlight when the producer was your best friend. The easy part was over, convincing you was much more difficult. It tooka lot of coaxing from your friends, but Shayne remained neutral. It almost pissed you off that each time you asked him for advice on whether or not you should do it, he'd say it's up to you. Shayne couldn't help it, he still finds himself not wanting to push you too far, he still wants to protect you from anything he can. Most fans loved you, but what if it stops? He was still in shock of how much everyone seemed to like you. His heart couldn't help but flutter with pride and joy each time he read a comment that spoke highly of you.

It couldn't compare to the love Shayne has for you. He writes every small, tender thought he has about you down in his phone. He isn't sure when they started now, but it was definitely before you had started dating.

He started off using it to get things off of his chest, to write down the words of admiration that he wished he could tell you. Overtime it'd had begun to be every thought he'd had about you.

"I told the stars about you"

"you're the only one want to wake up next to"

"I wonder what goes through your mind when someone says my name"

Damien and Spencer have heard almost all of them, extremely supportive of him, always quick to call it sweet. That's then followed with different ways to call Shayne a simp. It turned into a joke between them, dubbing them Shayne's Simp Notes.

Gears were turning as Shayne shuffled from your bed quietly, grabbing his phone from the night stand before wandering into the living area, brewing coffee.

He took a deep breath, unlocking his phone as he finished replaying his morning in his head before noting the time. 8:17AM is when the perfect idea strikes, apparently.

Shayne was quick to open the notes app and begin writing out everything. He's loosely planned sketches for the show before but this was much bigger, he wrote out every detail to make sure it'd go right.

After about an hour of nonstop writing with Shayne's eyes glued to his screen, his coffee long gone cold, your yawn echos down the hall.

A smile stretches across his face as he finishes his last line, closing out of the app before setting his phone on the tabletop. You enter the room rubbing your eyes as yOu mile softly at Shayne. His ASU shirt covered your top half, an old pair of gym shorts covered your bottom.

Without a word, you made your way over to Shayne's lap, straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your back gently.

The two of you tend to lay in bed together and cuddle if you're up before your alarms, enjoying the peace of being together before beginning your respective days. On the off days where that doesn't happen, you tend to make up for that lost time whenever you can, like right now.

"Ditch me on my day off, I see how it is." You chuckled as you sat up, rubbing your fingers lightly through Shayne's hair as he groaned playfully.

"I'm sorry, you're just dating an absolute genius, and I had a breakthrough, baby." Shayne laughed softly as you rolled your eyes; he moved to cup your cheeks pressing his lips to yours softly.

The two of you sat there for a bit longer, chatting until your alarms rang in your distant bedroom. You sullenly removed yourself from Shayne's lap, snagging his mug of coffee before disappearing down the same halway you'd wandered out of earlier.

"Ew, Shayne this is so old! How long have you been up?!" You shouted as your turned off the ringing, prompting a laugh from Shayne.

He makes sure to bring you a fresh mug, prepared just how you like as you're busy getting ready later. Your heart swelled at the small action.

It wasn't anything out of the ordinary from Shayne, he loved using small, subtle ways to show his affection. You always had fresh flowers from the very beginning of your relationship, sometimes you'd have more than one bouquet at a time. He's been a big fan of ordering things to you while he's away, off on shoots or even while hest at work.

He once ordered groceries to your apartment and video called you to cook together when he was on a trip to visit his parents.

You adored him so much. This relationship had far exceeded what you thought it could be, and you couldn't be happier. You're heart swells at just the thought of your boyfriend and everything he means to you.

The two of you arrived on set a bit early, giving you time to mingle with everyone. You were quick to dart from Shayne, heading toward Kimmy and Courtney across the room.

Shayne stood off to the side, staring at his phone screen once more. He felt like he was gonna scream, throw up, and cry all at once. He just needed to get through this. It's just an episode with his friends, he's gonna tell jokes and do his characters, his girlfriends gonna be there, it's gonna be amazing.

The box sat heavy on his thigh in the front pocket of his jeans, the outline barely concealed by the flannel he had buttoned over his white tee in an attempt to hide it.

Shayne eyed Kimmy, chewing his lip as she finally departed from her conversation with you. He was quick to grab her, requesting something weird of her. He needed you to go last, this wasn't something he wanted to have as the opening bit.

He kept the reasoning to himself, and Kimmy didn't seem too concerned about it so she happily agreed.

Once the others had arrived, Noah only setting the shoot back half an hour, they began rolling. You did great, getting Damien out quickly with an inside joke the three of you had shared after a trip to Universal one night.

Shayne was so nervous he found himself laughing his way through his joke, which eventually got Damien after it had become evident that Shayne wouldn't be able to stop his laughter.

His nerves had settled a bit, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, small kissed placed on your forehead between your bits, hidden by the divider.

You grinned as the end of the video neared, you being called to the yellow stool last. You filled your mouth with water and gave a thumbs up as you heard rustling from behind the divider.

"Okay, this isn't my turn but just wanna do this real quick" Shayne called out, peering around the corner as you shrugged.

After a few seconds, a toy crow flew over the clothing rack as Shayne belted out a purposefully bad impression of Train. You spewed instantly as cackling sounded from your boyfriend.

"I hate you!" You called out as you refilled your mouth, shaking your head.

"No, you don't." He called back, laughing.

The others' bits flew by as Shayne stood behind the divider, his wig and phone clutched tightly in his hands as he took deep breaths.

Shayne told you to close your eyes as he pulled on the curly, bob wig from a character of his.

You had a hate/love relationship of Shayne's simp character, Sir Phillip Simpne, so he felt it was right for this occasion. He had his phone hidden behind an open book as he moved to stand beside you on the stool. He cleared his throat, offering you a smile as your opened your eyes.

You groaned, keeping your mouth shut as you shook your head, determined to hold it over Shayne that he couldn't make you laugh with this bit.

"I haven't a poem for you today, m'lady," Shayne begun, trying his best not to laugh as you stared at him blankly. "I offer you something better. I bring love notes that I have written about the fair maiden before me today."

Shayne's palms felt sweaty as he looked down at his phone, deciding to drop the accent as he read to you, the giggles from others were silent to him.

"l'm gonna start from the beginning, kind of," He smiled, nodding as he looked up at you, removing the wig. "I wrote 'I never planned to like you this much and never planned to think about you this often' right before we started dating."

Shayne couldn't look at you as he felt tears prickle at his eyes, his throat running dry as he knew he'd run out of time.

Nobody in the room was counting anymore. Once Shayne had gotten more serious, the air in the room shifted and everyone grew quiet.

You sat in the chair, head tilted in confusion when Shayne had dropped the character, the game leaving your mind all together as you tried to process what was happening.

"Uh, 'I wonder if we ever think about each other at the same time.'" He kept his eyes on his phone, a bit scared to meet your eyes. You stared at him in perplexion.

"Okay, on my birthday I wrote 'of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you', then the next day wrote 'there's been a place for you in my heart since we first met.'" Shayne sniffled, looking to you with teary eyes, chuckling a bit.

You took in his appearance with your brows furrowed, his cheeks were bright red, his blue eyes glistening.

"So, yeah, those are some of my Simp Notes." Shayne spoke softly as he caught sight of you laughing, some water dribbling from your lips.

You stood from the stool, taking a few steps away as you swallowed, wiping your mouth. You were still clueless as to what exactly was happening, but the name had caught you off guard and made you laugh.

Shayne felt like time slowed down, everything was going too perfectly as he removed the box from his pocket, your back still to him as you laughed.

He found himself grateful for your unwillingness to laugh at him, you allowed him to tell you some of the things he hadn't been able to before.

The energy had come back to the room, everyone laughing as soon as you broke, the assumptions previously made now leaving everyone's mind until Shayne drops to one knee.

A few gasps are heard as you turn back toward Shayne. small shriek leaves you as your eyes widden quickly at the sight.

You two had talked about marriage before, and you both wanted to get married, but you didn't expect this. Nothing could've given this away for you.

"I wanna spend the rest of my life making you laugh." Shayne chuckled as you laughed a rolled your eyes as the purposely bad joke.

"Y/N, will you marry me?" Shayne's voice barely audible, the crew further back hadn't even heard him ask.

"Yes, Shayne!" You squeal, your boyf- no.

Your fiance is quick to grab you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you up. The two of you are a mess of tears, smiles, sniffles, kisses, and whispers as the room is filled with cheers.

You and Shayne are quickly enveloped with loads of your friends, the shock and excitement evident throughout the room.

After a few minutes, Kimmy hugs you and Shayne tightly, congratulating the two of you continuously, quickly gasping as she looks up.

"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone!" Kimmy sniffles, smacking Shayne's chest lightly as he laughed. You looked to him with wide eyes, quickly looking to Damien in confusion as he shook his head.

"Yeah, I've had the ring for... uh, some time now" Shayne laughed, blushing brightly as you at him in awe. "I wanted to surprise you, and| wanted to have a bunch of people we care about with us to celebrate, it just felt right."

Shayne couldn't hide his embarrassment as you wrapped him into another hug, the two of you embracing each other for a few moments, happy tears falling from and for the couple.

"Oh my god, we're still doing a video, holy shit." She laughs, wiping her own tears as she quickly moved out of frame, the rest of the crew following suit. The cast quickly surrounded you once more, each with bright smiles and tear stained cheeks.

You sit back on the stool, grinning as Shayne stands beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders.

"Pst." Damien called loudly from Shayne's other side. "You should give her the ring, Shayne." He whisper-yelled, causing a fit of giggles to ripple through everyone, both you and Shayne blushing deeply.

He fumbles a bit as he opens it again, pulling the delicate, ornate ring from the box before sliding it on to your finger.

You pressed your hand on to your lap, grinning as you stared at the accessory that fit you perfectly in every way.

"I could not imagine being a comedian and having to go on after this guy." Spencer called from out of frame, causing Shayne to cackle.

You guys were quick to wrap up your outro, Shayne still wrapped around you the whole time, placing a kiss to your forehead as they called for a wrap on the shoot.

This was the perfect he was looking for.

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alpydk · 4 months ago

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Red on You (Part 6) - "Death of Peace and Mind"

Gale x Rugan - ZhentWeave Shenanigans

Longer chapter today (4k words, it escaped me) - Chaos carries on - Some angst and some loving. - Thanks to @judasiskariot for the song recommendation for this chapter.

Ao3 Link

Don’t suppose you’ve got any more of those spells up that sleeve of yours?”

Leonidas stood on top of the Flagon Dragon, Darnys next to him, who looked unimpressed at the half rescue that was taking place. The fly spell had run out just short of the academy and, despite the fireball spell having taken out a chunk of the shambling creatures below, more had filled in from the Dock and lower Castle Wards.

Gale could barely hear the question over the sounds of the droning below them, the undead again hitting the walls and main gate that struggled against the constant forward waves. He looked down over the streets, knowing another fireball wouldn’t be enough and the fly spell could only be cast if they were close enough.

“Head down through the building, use the hatch in the basement. Hatch to sewers will get you to the academy.”

Hearing the sending spell in his head, Leonidas nodded in understanding, grabbing Darnys and motioning her towards the edge of the building.

She initially struggled, confused at what he was doing. “Wait, isn’t he going to help us?”

“He is helping us. There’s apparently a way under the building to the academy.”

“Of course. Couldn’t just be easy. Guess this is the point where you should just follow me, then.” She took charge, looking down the corner of the walls and tossing her legs over the edge. The drain lay beneath her feet and though her eyes tried to focus on the dizzying sight of the horde beneath them, she reminded herself of the orders she had been given. Follow orders and you’ll live to follow more.

“You know where we have to go?”

Nodding, she threw herself over the edge, her arms and legs holding onto the pipe as she shuffled down it towards an upper window of the tavern. This was no different to any other heist, she thought to herself. Yes, it was in broad daylight, but the guards were as mindless as they ever were, albeit rotting, and the goal was still the same: to break in and claim an expensive item for their own.

---

Watching as the pair retreated in through the tavern window, Gale now found himself alone on the roof of the academy. The day had been passing slowly before them all, and he felt as the weight of his body seemed to overtake him. When had he last truly slept a full night? It certainly hadn’t been last night as he’d drank kaeth and then conversed with paladins, and nights before had been interrupted by Rugan and drunken shenanigans.

Thoughts had largely been about the present danger, but with the moment of reprieve now came back the worries of Gale’s relationship. The plan had been to end things the moment he got back to his tower, but that had been before the risk of death had faced him. Was Rugan even safe? Was he shut up in their tower, surrounded by magical wards with an unlimited supply of scrolls and other artefacts at his disposal, or had he decided to be the self-destructive idiot that Gale knew and loved? He kept in mind that his last sending spell had been received without issue and that was enough to calm him momentarily. A note was made to send another message in a few hours to check in and then go from there. For now, making sure the others survived was the priority.

He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath at what was the come. He’d await Leonidas’ return, gather with the paladins and Lissa and then come up with a strategy to get them all out of there alive. Leaving the roof, he went in search of a quiet corner, one where he could collect his thoughts without the interruption of the moaning in the streets or the odour of decay. In a short while, they would all get out of there alive and find a way to deal with the problem, once and for all.

---

Gale, Seems I’m here with the noose around my neck again. Sort of serves me right really for pissing about like I have been. Wasn’t your fault though, never was. Look, I’ll keep this sweet, you know me. Never been much for conversation.

Rugan put down the quill and sighed. He’d been over every eventuality of the situation he’d found himself caught in, trapped in a wizard’s residence less than a kilometre from the academy. He’d somehow climbed up the guttering and got through a window into an attic, finding that the row of houses had all been connected by various wooden beams suspended over the upper rooms. Using some nimble footwork had got him to the household closest to the school’s tower, but on descending through the stairwell, he’d caught the attention of what was left of the residents and ended up barricaded in a small study. Books lined the walls, parchment and quills had been left abandoned, a bottle of Chultan Fireswill was now completely empty, his nerves having been calmed. He eyed up a crossbow on the wall, wondering if the adorned arrows next to it could even be fired. After hours being there, he could still hear the undead outside the door, no longer banging to get in but shuffling lifelessly upon the rugs, waiting for him patiently, he felt.

He wanted to say words of love, of goodbye, wanted to be poetic in the same manner Gale was with him, but the writing kept failing him. Rugan wasn’t articulate or educated. He’d just picked up what he’d needed as he’d gone ahead in life. He was charming in his own rough way, and that had been enough to woo the odd lass. Everything else he’d just paid for in one way or another. But with Gale, it was all different. Feelings were involved, a heart full to bursting was involved, and most of all, love was heavily involved. He picked up the quill again, dipping it into the inkwell.

There should be an earring with this, white gold with a sapphire stone. It’s to replace your goddess’ tag old one that you don’t use anymore. Don’t worry, didn’t nick it. Bought it. Astarion’ll vouch for me. If he’s made it, that is.

It’s why we were out so much. Were making money, so I could get it for you. Figured I could ask you

He lifted the quill again, frustrated at how difficult this was. Why couldn’t he just say it? He knew he would’ve had to eventually. Marry me, marry me, you idiot. Come on! Just fucking write it.

Scratching at the parchment, he continued, the desperate thoughts kept to himself.

Just know I love you. Don’t go locking yourself away in your tower whilst I’m gone, yeah? Meet some nice lass…or lad, your choice. Just get over yourself and me.

Going to miss your cooking...

---

Blankets and covers were not what Andora expected as she awoke in a small bedroom, her blood-soaked robes removed and replaced with a grey button-down shirt, her blonde hair set into a loose braid over her shoulder. All the curtains had been closed and candles had been lit around her, casting the room in an orange glow. She sat up slowly, the feeling of wool under her fingertips welcome after the cold tiles and grime she’d been sitting in for hours earlier.

“Finally, she graces us with her presence.”

The voice was that of the pale elf from the sewers, perched on the edge of a desk to the right of her, a silver goblet in his hand and his scarlet eyes pinned on her.

She gasped, fear overtaking her, and she backed herself away from him, the sheets gathering in front of her as she tried to scramble from the bed.

“Now, love. Calm down.”

Flashes of the scriptorium shot in front of her vision, her high priest’s pustuled flesh, his hands bloodstained, reaching out for her. Her breathing quickened, and she pushed back, falling from the side of the bed and clamouring to the floor. As she lifted her head, she found the elf stood above her, his footsteps too quick and silent to be that of something natural.

“Get back!” She held her palm up, ready to cast a spell, any spell that came to mind, if it meant her escape. “I’ll do it! I’m not scared of you.”

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed in front of her, sipping his drink, a deep red tinge left on his lower lip, which he licked away slowly with his pointed tongue. “Obviously.”

Andora realised how exposed she was, huddling on the wooden floorboards at his feet, her legs bare and the shirt barely covering her hips. “Where are my robes?” she asked cautiously, one hand still put forth, prepared for an attack, the other tugging at the hem of the grey cotton trying to cover herself.

“Well, despite the fine material, they’re currently in cinders in the fireplace. You may not have much knowledge about blood, but I do, and whatever was upon them was not something we wanted with us.”

She lowered her arm in tentative acceptance of his answer, bringing her hand to cover her legs to give herself some decency, her dark eyes still focused on his movements.

He averted his gaze away from her. “There are trousers in the wardrobe, I’m sure.” Vaguely gesturing across the room, he stepped away from her, giving her a moment of privacy to collect herself up.

She was alive. She could feel no sense of fever or pain in her body and in this room for a moment, it felt as if the calamities that had befallen her had vanished.

“Name’s Astarion,” he spoke calmly, patiently waiting for her to change into something more comfortable.

“Andora,” she replied, getting up and searching for something to cover her lower half, still trying to piece together everything that had occurred. “You were in the sewers with me, weren’t you?”

He gave a dry chuckle, straightening the ruffles of his shirt at his pale wrists. “I was. You fainted on me, quite rude an introduction I have to say.”

“And where are we now?”

“From what I can tell, it’s a tavern near the marketplace. I carried you for quite some time and eventually came across a hatch into a basement. We’ve been holed up here since.”

She approached him, leather trousers hanging loosely from her frame beneath the shirt. Something about him made her curious, his calm demeanour, the way he spoke as if he were a rich red flowing into the goblet he held. “Why didn’t you just abandon me there or stay underground?”

Astarion shrugged at her question. The honest answer was that he’d felt some deep stirring emotion, not felt since he’d last seen Tav at the campsite party so long ago. He felt as if he needed to protect her. “I needed to wash all the remains of those creatures off me. Leaving your pretty face just seemed like a waste.” “Well, I appreciate it. I thank Ilmater for your intervention.” Andora bowed her head to him. She could see how he was no longer stained with blood, causing him to appear more dashing than he had previously. She felt the blush in her cheeks as his gaze seemed to pierce right through her and so she turned away, walking towards a window and pulling the curtains slightly apart. The sunlight streamed in, casting a beam up through the room behind her, her imposing shadow thrown up the wall.

“By the hells! What are you doing?!”

The impatient shout was met with the dive of Astarion to the floor, trying to escape the light that hit his features. She spun with the noise, releasing the curtain from her grasp, letting darkness fall over the room again with nothing but the candles to help her see.

“Astarion?” She peered around, not noticing where he had vanished to.

Dusting himself off, he returned to his feet, an irritated look on his face at what she had done. “They are closed for a reason. Keep them that way.”

She was confused at what the purpose of it was. They were a few floors up from the ground where they couldn’t be seen unless they stood by the windows, bringing attention to themselves, and yet he wanted them all shut. It was then that she remembered how he had looked underground, the pointed fangs, the comment of how he had been bitten. Her mind raced through the teachings of the clergy, of curses and creatures of the night, of undead and lycanthropes, of blood rituals and vampirism.

“You’re a...” The words would not come to her, as if saying them would sign her death sentence.

“A vampire. Yes, darling. And one that right now is incredibly tired and hungry, so I suggest you do not turn this into anything too dramatic.” The revelation had been quicker than expected, much quicker than it had been travelling with Tav through daylight hours. He glanced over the arch of Andora’s neck, seeing the way her jugular pulsed with the quickened beat of her heart. He couldn’t deny his hunger, not right now after hours of running and hiding in gloomy alleyways and grungy sewers.

“Are you going to hurt me?” It was a fair question, her experience with vampires severely limited. She’d heard of them during her childhood on the streets, of friends and family selling their bodies to feed spawn, but she’d never come across one herself. He had now pulled her from the sewers, saved her from the disease that had coated her clothing, even braided her hair. Were the stories from the temple wrong about these monsters?

He stepped closer to her, noticing how her body language had changed, more confident, as if this were a hallowed ground she knew how to tread. Fear in her eyes had become something else, something he’d seen in Tav on one distant night under the Sword Coast stars. “Not right now. No.”

“When did you last feed?”

Her question took him back. Was she trying to calculate how much time she had before he turned on her out of desperation, or was she trying to work out when he would be at his weakest so she could stake him and escape? “A day ago. I dared not take a chance on the rats beneath the city.” He answered, not being entirely honest. It had in fact been longer with the travel to Waterdeep and everything with Rugan, and the idea of shit-stained rats was becoming very tempting to him.

She nodded, leaving the safety of the window, and approached him, pushing her braid aside so he could see her neck fully. “Then you need to drink soon, right?” Sacrifice was what she was made for, something she knew how to do without thinking, something she could finally control after all the chaos that had happened. There was also something she couldn’t explain: how she was drawn to him. Attraction? She wasn’t sure, but she wanted to care for him. A fear lay behind his eyes that she knew all too well: prey in the eyes of wolves.

“What are you-” Astarion unexpectedly backed away, her directness something he hadn’t considered.

“Ilmater requires of us that we should be willing to help all, give all we can to help those in need, even if that involves a sacrifice of ourselves. If you need sustenance, then drink of me.”

He batted an arm away from her, not accepting her words. He knew the gods all too well, having tried his luck with all of them in his two hundred years of servitude to Cazador. Anyone who devoted themselves to them was clearly deranged. “My gods, you’re insane. Out of all the ones to find...”

“Astarion. I believe he led you to me so that we could help each other. You have helped me. Let me help you.”

The words felt like a dagger blade to his cold, dead heart, words of comfort and kindness before she had even grown to know him. His mind clashed with the ideas of sating his hunger or leaving her entirely in the room they’d found themselves. He wasn’t that desperate, and yet there she stood, eyes innocent, skin pure and unblemished, offering herself to him without hesitation. “This isn’t what you want.”

She smiled, her hand raising delicately to touch his icy cheek, a connection both of them didn’t want to fight. “But it’s what you want, what you need. Ilmater protects me, so do not worry.”

He could feel the warmth of her hand as it touched him, hear the beat of her heart merged with quiet breaths. Hunger drowned out all his logic. Want and need drove him forward as he bit sharply into her neck, her blood thick and sweet upon his tongue. She tasted like sunlight would. Honeysuckle, vanilla, summer days spent lying under drifting clouds. Each drop of her cherry nectar to his senses.

“Astarion...” she whispered, her body pressed flush to his, Ilmater’s teachings repeating in her mind. Until I can bear a fraction of your burden, Sufferer, I shall.

The beating of her heart slowed and Astarion returned to his senses, pulling his lips from the arch of her neck but keeping a firm grasp of her in his arms. Her deep brown eyes reflected in the red of his own, and he saw a warmth he had only known once before. The quiet thud between their chests reminded him she was still alive, more alive than anyone he had met before. She was more than sustenance; she was an evening with loved ones, postcoital bliss on a picnic blanket in spring, life itself filled with all its wine and dancing. He brushed his lips upon hers, her taste having him crave more. She did not flinch, did not breathe out the words of her lord. Instead, she pulled herself to him, giving herself in full.

---

Going to miss your cooking...

Rugan felt as if he were trapped in the Gnoll cave again, death coming to claim him as it had tried to so often. He’d written the letter, but waiting the hours for his death was proving overwhelming. The walls felt as if they were closing in on him; the darkness spreading into his veins. There was no escape, and the apprehension was becoming too much to ignore. If Gale were here... Deep down, Rugan knew he had messed everything up. If he had just been honest with his intentions, then it could have all been done differently. He was no changed a man now than he was a year ago when he claimed himself as an ex- Zhent, and it ate away at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to show differently.

Can’t take the Zhent out of the man... Maybe Astarion was right. Maybe that is why Rugan was repeating the same mistakes, going in circles like a dog chasing its tail. It was in his blood to screw up, after all. Isn’t that what his father had done, followed the coin at the bottom of the bottle, just as Rugan was choosing? He didn’t want to die that way, didn’t want to die trapped in bottle nor cave. He rubbed at his stomach; the scar of Alchemist’s Fire underneath irritated by the leather he wore. He didn’t want to die trapped in the study of some posh prick either, and it was this thought that removed the fear that had been plaguing him.

Zhentarim completed jobs. They not only got into places, but they got out of them too. And he had been a master at getting out of so many situations. He wouldn’t be the softened-up boyfriend living the life of luxury as he had been for the last year. Now was the moment to pull himself together. He checked over the room, the ornamental crossbow hung on the wall, thankfully not as ornamental as he’d initially thought, and he made his choice. Pocketing the letter and taking a deep breath, he unlocked the study door.

---

Lissa stepped towards the paladin Lucius, her white hair glimmering under the dancing lights above her. The paintings of the academy’s previous professors lined the walls, and she felt the gaze of each one on the back of her pale blue neck as she walked forward.

“Excuse me. Are you alright there?” She was quiet, cautious, the body of his ally lying near him with the now dried blood staining the carpet beneath them both.

Lucius hadn’t been aware of his environment for some time as he’d sat on the floor of the halls watching the lifeless body. In his mind he’d been on the battlefield, his men falling around him, screams and violence in a world he could not escape. There were no soldiers to command, no enemy to bring justice to, no battle to win. There was only defeat. “Leave us...”

Her hand drifted to the silver dagger at her side on hearing his voice. He was cold, resigned, not the mighty commander that had broken through the main door. “Can’t do that. Not in the situation we’re in now.” She reached forward, placing a hand on the armour of his shoulder. “Your men need you.”

“My men are dead!” He spun on her, sword drawn at the ready, illusion and reality merging as his head pounded with fever. He stumbled forward as she stepped away from him, watching as she backed up over the muddy field of corpses, the paintings now faces of the gods, watching how he’d led his troops to death.

“No, your men are at the door. Darius has been organising scrolls, Leonidas is on the roof with Gale. Remember?” Lissa continued to step backwards, observing him, drawing him to the main hall where she hoped to get protection from his subordinate.

Mud and death entwined with scarlet rugs and oak, past and present combined, tearing his mind in two. “They…they died in the halls...”

She shook her head. “No. They’re alive. They’re here.”

He saw the face of Darius emerge over her shoulder, alive and well.

“See, all fine.”

Lucius calmed before her lilac eyes, and she drew her hand away from her dagger, falling back behind the soldier that awaited her. She watched as the two paladins approached each other slowly, a relaxed smile creeping up on her lips, as Darius gently pulled the face of his weakened commander towards him. She exhaled, her shoulders lowering. “Thank the gods. I thought we were going to have a-”

Lucius’ head snapped forward; a deep bite placed in the neck of Darius, tearing at the supple flesh available. Blood spurted from the wound as he ripped himself back with a growl, skin and muscle caught in his teeth, his mouth already filled with the fetid taste of pus and rust.

“Fuck. Inveniam viam.” Lissa cast the spell calmly before she could be grabbed, a quick misty step taking her to a room near the main door of the academy.

Lucius’ head twisted at a disjointed angle in search of her, a broken snarl released from his now dead lips and with it came a joined moan as Darius twitched and spasmed on the floor, corruption flooding his system. Lissa frowned unenthused with the situation and entered the room behind her, the undead more an inconvenience than a threat.

Locking the door with a spell, she relaxed and glanced over the study’s contents, taking in the tomes and comfortable furniture that awaited her. She ran a hand through her long white hair and sat down in the large leather red chair, crossing her legs and making herself comfortable.

She spoke, her voice soft and almost a whimper. “Gale, paladins have turned. Trapped by the main gate. Help me, please. You’re my only hope.” She sent off the sending spell before opening the drawer of the nearby desk, pulling out a bottle of Dancing Maiden and smirking to herself. Guess I just wait then…

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 rugan #zhentweave #i love this fic #its my baby #and i dont care what anyone says #neh neh ner neh neh #Spotify

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