#lae'zel x fem tav

[teaaagan]

5 more minutes

Shadowheart: It’s time to wake up, Karlach

Karlach: 5 more minutes…

Shadowheart, smiling softly: 5 more minutes -snuggles up to Karlach-

_

Lae'Zel: It’s time to wake up.

Tav(Y/N): 5 more minutes…

Lae'Zel: -Sharpening knife- Maybe you misheard me

[fabric-shower-curtain]

By complete accident I somehow have the autopsy scar mod on top of the bhaalist tattoo mod, don’t ask me how they’re both on my durge I have no idea how it happened. But it got me thinking how would the origin characters (+halsin) react/barely react to a lover that is heavily scarred and tattooed? (Set in Act 1)

Read more for the full brainrot

Astarion: The first time Astarion saw your body for himself was when he walked past your tent late at night, through the flaps in the entrance he saw all those scars, he couldn’t tell what had you awake this late in the night, especially mostly naked with your back turned. The vampire simply continued on his way to hunt for the night. He dropped it there, until that is, the second night in the clearing you two spent together. He was lying down leaning his head against his arms as his red eyes stared at your naked body. His eyes flowed down every scar that littered your body, he barely seemed to look at the tattoos but that’s what he asked about first “So, can you translate that one?” - he points to the tattoo across your left arm, lifting up the limb you pull your skin to take a proper look at it. It’s been a while since you properly saw it, because just out of sight enough to make it annoying to stare at. When you tell him Astarion seems content with the information. His fingers drift across the tattoo. It’s a tender moment until the elf’s hand floats toward your neck. His ice cold fingers dancing across the lingering puncture wounds on your neck - “But these are by far my favorite mark on you,” You lean into Astarion’s touch releasing a chuckling sigh before calling him the weirdest flirt you have ever seen.

Gale: He really didn’t mean to go to the river at the same time he truly meant to go two hours early when he said he would, but that tome was particularly interesting - the effects of adrenaline on libido, certainly important for a man so restricted by his netherese orb. But now it was two hours past and he definitely had a musk going on. Taking an extra robe and rag Gale went to the nearby river, only you were there too. Illuminated in moonlight you were bare in front of him. Gale cleared his throat loudly, trying to let you know he was there. What he did not expect was for you to whip around and get out of the water to say hello. He tried his best to only look at your face, he did not succeed. Your skin was glowing with a vei of water cascading down in droplets. Gale’s eyes followed one droplet from your hair, down your neck, across your chest until a certain tattoo caught his eye, infernal script. Trying to keep his focus on the tattoo rather than the flesh its on he asked you if it meant what he thought it did. He was right in fact, and you told him the story behind why you got it, quite the nice tale. The wizard relaxed enough to notice another scar across your soldier “Is that from a magic missile?” He asked without thinking. Nodding in confirmation you turned to show your shoulder blade where the other two missiles struck. As you turned around the coldness of the night hit you like a thunder wave, a massive shiver shook your entire body spraying tiny water droplets around. “Gosh you must be freezing,” - Gale wrapped you in his towel-rag before stressfully ushering you back towards the camp. Once you got back to your tent you realized you left your towel and clothes on a nearby rock, you could return the peeping Tom favor.

Halsin: Halsin adores you long before he ever saw your birthday suit, sure he thought about it, quite a lot, but with his focus deep on the shadow-curse he doesn’t have time to do much other than think about out. But the first time he does see you was far from romantic or sensual. A hook horror had slashed your entire back open when you got to close, and Halsin watched it all happen. Before the beast even hit the ground he was rushing over to you, he didn’t think, he just ripped your armor right off of you to get to the wound. You might have been screaming but his ears were ringing too loud to tell one noise from another. Halsin couldn’t even see where scar ended and fresh cut began, your tattoos were doused in enough blood to make them impossible to see against your skin. The bear of an elf’s hand floated above the wound with the same glowing blue light the hook horror’s body was basking in, thank silvanus he was far enough from the sussur tree for his magic to work. Even with his healing a scar in the same place as the monster's claw marks stayed. Halsin’s druidic skills must be faltering, that’s what he determines at least. Until the next day, you’re healed fully up and about getting ready to leave camp for the day. Halsin calls out your name - “I’m sorry I could not heal you fully, I tried best I could but the scar persists” to his confusion you begin laughing. The scar he’s so upset about has been on you for so long now, and you tell him such. His healing left no scar, in fact he healed you so well an old scar was able to show.

Karlach: The first time she saw you naked you were bathing next to each other after a battle. Even with Dammon’s initial upgrade you can’t touch each other, but you swore to find ways to be intimate without touching, just like this. However you neglected to inform her about what lay under your clothes until now, scars covering you head to toe interlaced with tattoos of varying quality. “Hey Soldier! How come you didn’t tell me before stealing my aesthetic!” You didn’t even register this was the first time exposing yourself in such a way, a brief moment of panic before you burst into a smile. “Come here, let me see them” Karlach makes you twirl around, using the faintest touch of her fingers to pull your arms out and see the tattoos wrapping around them. Her eyes continued to trail down your body, after a gasp she jumped back up to your face - “That burn scar looks like mine!” She said before pulling down her trousers to show you the near identically placed scar on her thigh. But Karlach didn’t ask about the obviously fresher stab scars, she continued to smile at her new discovery but lets the two of you properly bathe for once.

Lae’zel: Even when pinning you against a wall the githyanki warrior wasn’t particularly gentle. It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into tonight, she had said pretty explicitly she seemed carnal pleasure. Somehow Lae’zel was even more assertive in such a scenario than during your adventures. You couldn’t even take your own armor off, she practically ripped it off of you. Your body is exposed to her in an instant, she doesn’t react, her hands go immediately to unlace your trousers and undergarments. The night is enjoyable even as exhausting as it was. Only much later does Lae’zel ever comment on them, and its in a conversation praising you two’s battle prowess “Each scar is a battle fought, a battle won.” You try not to tell her you have at least two scars from dropping the knife while cooking with Gale. She’s sweet in her own way.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart first saw you naked while healing a particularly cruel wound, goblin had snuck up on you and slashed your torso deep. You stabilized yourself quick enough with a healing potion but the wound persisted. After the battle you wandered your way over to Shadowhearts tent, asking for help. She laid you down atop her bedroll, sliding your shirt off as you let yourself relax into the makeshift bed. And then you caught it, Shadowheart’s eyes widened, shit. But she didn’t say anything; she pressed her warm hands towards your open wound as they lit alight with magic. Radiating from your gash the warm feeling washed over you, your eyes closed softly breathing out in relief. Shadowheart quelled her magic, looking over you for a fat moment. You can feel her eyes wandering over you, up and down your chest, down your stomach and across both your arms. The relief of healing has left you now but you’re still too scared to open your eyes. And then a soft hand traced along your largest scar, her fingers were so light it tickled. “I like your tattoos.” The half-elf’s voice was soft, her eyes focused back on your large scar, “How’d you get that one.” Whether or not you tell the story she’s content, happy to have this extra piece of you in her memory.

Wyll: Poor Wyll just wanted to ask about the plans for tomorrow, but not only did he smack his horns on the skeleton of your tent while entering but you’re also as naked as the day you were born. The man nearly shrieked like he saw a ghost, his entire chest swelled up with his shoulders shooting up and he looked like he just swallowed a frog. Without a word Wyll turned on his heel and left your tent, only after trying to cool his blushing face off did he even process all your markings. Upon the log he sat on he dragged his hand up and down his face trying to process what the hells just happened. And then you exited your tent, completely decent this time. You greeted Wyll and sat beside him wondering what he had barged in about in the first place. But the poor man can’t even look at you. He as calmly as he could gave you the sincerest apology you’ve ever heard. After your acceptance he finally turns to you “So what does that tattoo across your back mean?” You pause for a moment, then explain as best you can. And that conversation continues just like that, he’d ask how you got a certain scar or tattoo and you’d answer him. In return he showed you one particularly nasty scar on his arm from a monster he fought while traversing the sword coast. What may have started as the most embarrassing moment of your partnership ended with you closer than before.

[primal-savagery]

baldur's gate oc's: Elkas Kenduis, Roshan, Niabi Dyre, Velvela Dyre

They're killing me. They're all killing me. It's too sweet. My teeth are rotting out of my mouth. Elkas put your nipple away.

[lendeah]

Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

Summary:

Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.

Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.

Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻

"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.

Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.

"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.

The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".

Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."

"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"

Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"

So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.

Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"

He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."

I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"

He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.

He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.

"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.

"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.

"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.

I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"

Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."

You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."

You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"

Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.

"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."

At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."

"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.

"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.

A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.

His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"

"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.

Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"

"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.

You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."

"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.

"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.

"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.

Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.

"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper

He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."

"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."

His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"

You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."

Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.

"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.

"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.

"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."

He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.

"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."

As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."

Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.

"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."

Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.

A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.

"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."

He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.

Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.

"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.

You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.

"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.

You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.

"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.

"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.

You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."

He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.

Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."

You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.

"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."

His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."

You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.

"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.

"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.

"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.

"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.

Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,

"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"

[gingerbloof]

red (astarion x fem fighter!tav)

contents: light smut, fingering, tav getting injured, blood, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of other companions (Halsin, Shadowheart, Lae'zel, Gale), bathing/skinny dipping in a hot spring Astarion being an absolute sweetheart, use of safe word (hard stop), non-sexual intimacy

author's note: gahhh finally i got this request finished! this is a anon request from my smut prompt list (which you can find in my masterlist!) it's more fluff/hurt/comfort than smut, because i wanted to change it up a bit since its been rather smutty on my blog thus far, but regardless, i hope you all enjoy! (image taken from @dailyastarionpics) word count: 3,821

It was yet another excruciating day of traveling Faerun, and unfortunately with no leads on curing your ceremorphosis. You and your party drudged their feet sluggishly back into camp, wishing for nothing but the sweet release of sleep. Even though the sun was already starting to peak over the horizon and morning dew started to bead on each blade of grass your tired feet landed on.

Karlach, half asleep already, started the pointless fire as Shadowheart went around to heal everyone. Once she made your way to you, her eyes widened. She brushed silver bangs off her face so she could look at you clearly. Her face grew with worry as she spoke.

“Tav… How did that happen?” She asked, pointing to your ribs. Your face scrunched up in confusion as you looked down at yourself. You then see a horrific wound that wrapped from the front side of your ribcage that wrapped around to your back. You stare at it wearily,  blood dripping down your skin and mixing with the dirt under your feet.

You suddenly grew pale as you felt the adrenaline from your last battle start to wear off. You tried your best to keep your composure. Years as a fighter taught you that there was no use in submitting to any wounds you may have gotten from battle. Lae’zel admired that about you, which is why it surprised you when she looked over from her tent and raised her eyebrows in surprise and rush over to you.

“Tsk’va! Tav what the hells happened?!” She asked, a very rare worried tone in her voice.

You let out a sound between a chuckle and a scoff. “It’s just a… scratch,” The last word was soft and breathy, then you felt your body begin to sway, and your surroundings blur, until darkness clouded over you. The last thing you heard was your beloved fanged partner shout “Darling!” before you submitted to the pitch blackness of unconsciousness.

***

You woke up with a groan, pain shooting through your side. You open your eyes slowly, the world slowly coming back into focus. You were snug in your bedroll, shirtless, and caked in sweat. The injury you got must’ve infected you at some point and gave you a fever, which was now thankfully breaking.

You looked down at your injury and saw that it was quickly healing, probably thanks to the help of both Halsin and Shadowheart. Careful stitches held your broken flesh together, which you knew was thanks to Astarion, whom you barely noticed was right next to you reading a book. You started to sit up as he snapped his book shut and shifted so he was on his side facing you. 

“Easy, darling!” He said concerningly, laying you back down slowly. You looked up at him with sleepy eyes as you allowed him to lay you back down. “You’re still in a bit of bad shape, no sudden movement, alright?” He said soothingly, running his slender pale fingers through your hair and laying a kiss on your forehead.

You sighed softly with a bit of frustration, leaning into his kiss. “I’m fine, my love…” You said, your voice low and gruff. “‘Tis but a flesh wound, I promise.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “‘My love, I don’t believe a ‘flesh wound’ would cause you to collapse from blood loss and get… twelve stitches,” He said, glancing briefly at your injury and counting them quickly. “We also had to pull a rather big chunk of metal out of your side…” You sigh again and carefully cross your arms over your chest, pouting at him. “I’ve had a lot worse, you know,” You said in a snarky tone, pointing to the big gash in your face that you had gotten years ago.

He gasped and placed his hand over his chest in a sarcastic manner. “Oh, I’m so sorry! It seems I have forgotten that such a strong bodied fighter such as yourself doesn’t need any comfort,” He said cheekily, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk as your face flushed bright red.

“I-I didn’t say that!” You pouted even more, turning your head away from him. Regardless of your strong outer shell, he always brought out your very well hidden soft interior. He was the only one who could do it, and knowing that inflated his already massive ego.

He laughed heartily at your reaction, gently taking your chin in his cold hand and turning your head back around to face him. “You are utterly adorable,” He cooed, giving you a quick smooch on the lips. “Come, let’s get you cleaned up, darling. No offense, my love, but you smell like death.”

You frown and sniff yourself briefly, the smell of stale blood and sweat assaulting your nostrils. How embarrassing… You nodded, and he very carefully helped you up. He pulled off his own nightshirt for you to wear, and linked your arm with his so you didn’t stumble.

As you exit your tent, the assaulting rays of the afternoon sun almost blind you. You squint in the light and use your hand to shield your eyes as Shadowheart and Halsin quickly rush over to you both, relief washing over their faces.

“Tav! You’re awake, thank Selune!” Shadowheart beamed, cupping your face gently. You smile warmly at her and chuckle. As your best friend, other than Astarion of course, Shadowheart was always giving you sweet friendly touches. You adored having someone like her around.

Halsin was next to speak, his large frame thankfully shielding the sun from your still very tired eyes. “Thank the Oak Father… We were worried your injuries were far too grave for us to heal alone. Good to see we were wrong,” He smiled warmly at you. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged as you leaned against Astarion a bit more. “I’m okay, it just hurts a bit. We’re going to the river to clean up quickly,” You respond, reassuring them that you were fine. “Of course if she’s alright enough to do so,” Astarion chimed in, lifting your shirt enough for the healers to take a look at it.

Shadowheart hummed and reached her hand out, chanting a soft “Te curo” as a soft blue light wrapped around your injury. This eased the pain quite a bit, and from the looks of it, her simple healing word seemed to have closed the gash up just a bit more. A sigh of relief left your lips as you said a silent thank you to her.

 “I think she will be fine, but I do recommend going to the hot spring, the warmth of the water and the healing properties of nature should make her feel good as new,” Halsin said. Astarion smiled at both of them. “Thank you, we shall take our leave for now, then,”

As you both turn to head towards the spring, Halsin spoke out to you once again. “Would you two mind if I joined?” A small but sweet smirk on his face. Both you and Astarion chuckled. You had both indulged yourselves with Halsin before, so it was always on the table when the time seemed right. Astarion looked to you to silently ask if that was alright, and you shook your head. You just wanted him right now…

Astarion replied on your behalf. “Mmm, tempting, but not tonight, druid. I hope you can understand.” Halsin nodded, fully understanding. “Of course. Enjoy yourselves, both of you.”

After walking for a few meters you found the spring. Neither of you have seen it before, so you both took a moment to soak up the view. There was a beautiful waterfall in the distance that led to the river, and mountains could be seen just beyond it. Moss covered rocks were placed conveniently around the steaming body of water, perfect to sit on to dip your feet in, and the trees hung low enough to lightly diminish the harsh ways of the afternoon sun from your view.

You smiled and sighed softly at the view. It was breathtaking. Astarion, however, was entranced by a different view. You.

You felt his eyes upon you and looked over to him, your eyes immediately locking with his. You tried to play it cool, looking back at the spring before you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked softly. He stepped closer to you, gently placing his hand on your hip and carefully pulling you closer, minding your wound. “Not as beautiful as you, my love,” He purred softly, placing a kiss on your forehead. You flush deeply, and not just from the steam of the spring.

You both stay there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company. He sighed a contentful sigh as he pulled away from you briefly. “Come now, my love. Let’s get you all cleaned up,” He smiled. You nodded and started removing his shirt from yourself, but he quickly stopped you, taking your hands for a brief moment. “Let me, my dear,” He gently lifted the shirt off of you, careful not to let you lift your arms up too far. The shirt pulled off of you, revealing your bruised and injured body. Crusted up blood flaked over your skin, but regardless Astarion still looked at you like you were the most beautiful being in all the Relms.

Your small clothes came next. He slowly slipped them down around your ankles leaving you bare. Astarion soon followed suit, yanking down his pants and slowly stepping into the warm water. He reached his hand out to you and you took it, following him into the water.

You sigh in relief, the warmth of the water immediately relaxing your tired muscles. You stepped further into the pool, sinking down until the water was just above your breasts. Astarion went back over to the rock he left his trousers on and pulled out a bar of soap, which you hardly even noticed he grabbed. You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“Let me guess… Stolen?” You jabbed, crossing your arms lightly. Astarion half shrugged nonchalantly. “Only from Gale,” He responded with a chuckle. You roll your eyes and shake your head playfully. You weren’t surprised, he always took the opportunity to take anything important as he saw fit, especially if it was from Gale. He made his way back over to you, getting the bar of soap wet and lathering it in his hands. “Turn around, my love,” He said softly, taking your shoulders and spinning you in the water gently so your back was to him.

You comply and briefly dip yourself further into the water to wet the rest of your body. As you stood back up he placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck and started his work. He scrubbed away the grime and flaked blood off the backs of your shoulders. You hum happily, wrapping your arm around to gently wrap your fingers around his beautiful silver locks. He wrapped his arms carefully around you, pulling you further into him. He placed soft kisses along the shell of your ear as the lather made its way to your chest and torso.

He continued to clean you innocently and sweetly for a few more moments until he turned you around. The way the suds of the soap encompassed your breasts and the golden rays of the sun making your wet skin glow flipped a switch inside of him. You were the most ethereal thing he had ever gazed upon.

You were entranced with him too. The sunlight bounced off of his beautiful pale skin, and he almost appeared to shimmer in it. His ruby eyes glinted as he looked at you, nothing but love and devotion filling them. 

“You know…” He started softly, tracing the backs of his knuckles down your arm, gazing down your figure. “I can think of some other ways to relieve some tension, darling,” His voice was a hungry purr now, honeyed words floating sweetly into your ears like a soft lullaby. You nibbled your bottom lip as you watched his movements as his hand creeped down to the front of your thigh. Once again, you tried playing it cool, despite the ever growing heat in your core. “W-What do you mean?” You asked softly.

A low chuckle left his lips. “Don’t be coy, darling. You know exactly what I mean,” A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as his fingertips gently grazed across your folds, making your breath hitch in your throat. “What’s the matter, my sweet? Cat got your tongue?” He hooked his index finger to part your folds and catch against your clit, brushing against it gently.

You grabbed his hand in an attempt to push his fingers against your swollen bundle of nerves more to get some much needed friction. He stiffened his hand, not allowing you to move it. He clicked his tongue in disapproval and shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting in yet another devious smirk. 

“Patience, my sweet,” He purred next to your ear, his other arm snaking around and gripping your ass gently, pulling you further into him.

You stumbled a bit into him, clearly flustered by his bluntness. Uncharacteristic for someone of your class and background, but you didn’t care. Astarion brought a side out of you that you haven’t felt safe enough to channel in years, and you were very grateful for him for it.

He chuckled at your apparent shyness, placing soft kisses along your ear making you shiver. “S-Star…” You whimpered, making him groan. He loved that nickname, and you always knew the right times to use it. “Yes, darling? What is it?” He replied smugly, his feather light touches grazing your folds again, making you tense up.

“Please…” You mumble, making him groan in playful frustration. “My darling, we’ve gone over this multiple times… You must– say it with me now… use your words,” You shyly said those three cursed words along with him. As he said, you have gone over it multiple times, but you were much too stubborn to give in and actually tell him what you wanted. That was, until you were too desperate for him not to care anymore. Just like how you were right now.

“Astarion,” You said sternly, trying to keep up your strong facade. “I want you to touch me. Use your fingers. Please.” The last word you spoke was soft and breathy, your stubbornness bending like a hammer to hot steel. He grinned, his fangs glinting in the glow of the setting sun. Gods, he is beautiful…

“Of course, my love. Whatever you need,” He purred, his fingers finally placing soft pressure against your hard clit. You gasped softly as he used those two slender fingers to massage soft circles into it. You shivered, despite the hot steamy water that surrounded you both, and grasped onto his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

He gently ran his fingers through your hair as he continued to stroke the fire in your core. To the innocent bystander, it might’ve looked like you were just having a sweet romantic hug in the water, but down below the surface, he was giving you endless pleasure, quickly bringing you to the point of no return.

With you being inexperienced when you started being intimate with one another, it never took you long to reach an orgasm, especially if he was the one touching you. He chuckled as he felt your body tremble against his. Your blunt fingernails gently dug into his skin as you felt your orgasm creep closer and closer. Normally, he would make you ask to come because he relished in the sounds of you begging. However, given the circumstances, he decided to play nice with you today.

“That’s it, my pet… Let go,” He whispered, kissing along your shoulder gently. His pace quickened, earning him a soft airy gasp from you. Your breath wavered as his fingers continued their quickening pace against your clit, your legs starting to tremble. “A-Astarion…!” You choked out, grasping onto him for dear life. He hummed in approval as his pace quickened once again, making your eyes snap shut and let out a delicious, loud moan.

Your orgasm crashed into you like the waterfall behind you crashing into the river, your whole body twitching and spasming. You almost fell over from how hard you came, but thankfully Astarion’s stiff body kept you upright. He slowed his pace, riding you through your orgasm and whispering sweet praises into your ear. “There you go, my sweet… What a good girl you are,” He peppered kisses along your neck as he slowly withdrew his hand. 

You panted as you looked at him. Your face was beet red, and your brow was starting to bead sweat from the heat of the spring and your orgasm. He smiled sweetly down at you and caressed your cheek. “Would you like more?” He asked, as you felt his cock throb against you. You nodded eagerly, slipping your hand down beneath the water to stroke him gently. He took your wrist and shook his head.

“Please, my dear… Allow me,” He purred. He gently guided you over to a nearby rock to the shallower end of the pool. “Bend over here, darling,” He gently coaxed. You were quick with your actions, yet careful. You didn’t want to reopen your wound. You gently bent over the rock, arching your back slightly for him. He came behind you and stared at your swollen cunt, dripping with ecstasy and still twitching from your previous orgasm. He ran his hands across the swell of your ass and down the sides of your thighs, groaning softly. “Beautiful…”

He took his cock and gently pressed the tip against your hole. “Are you ready, my sweet? Are you ready to be stretched by my cock?” He asked, his tone sweet and innocent despite the filthy words. You nodded eagerly, arching your back a bit more in an attempt to push yourself onto him. “Y-Yes… Please, I need you…” You replied, your voice full of desperation.

The eagerness in your words was all the confirmation he needed. He slowly started to roll his hips into you, pressing each inch of his cock further and further into you. You moaned loudly as you stretched around him and clenched. He hissed in pleasure at your tightness as he thrust slowly in and out of you, closing his eyes. You growled softly at the feeling of you. “Gods, Tav… You feel so fucking good,” He said, pressing into you harder, earning a loud yelp from you.

Sometimes, especially in moments of insatiable desire such as this, Astarion could be a bit rough with you. It was almost like he went feral from your sounds and the feeling of you pulsating around him. Thus, you have agreed upon a word that either of you could use if things got out of hand. Neither of you had to use it yet, but if he kept up this harsh, rough pace, you would have to use it.

His speed increased, thus his roughness. The pleasure started turning into a soft, manageable pain as the tip of his cock pounded against your cervix. He must not have noticed your body tense, because he kept going, wrapping his hands around your waist, accidentally touching your stitched wound.

That is what made you say it.

 “R-Red!! Astarion, red!”

His eyes snapped open as he stopped, pulling out of you quickly and turning you around gently, his face broken with worry. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry… Did that hurt? Are you okay?” He asked, checking your wound briefly to see if he had accidentally reopened it. You panted softly, trembling a bit. You winced softly with pain. “I-It was just my injury… I think I’ll be okay,” You reassured him, feeling bad that you had ruined the moment. He shook his head. “No, darling… Let’s stop, I don’t want to cause any more harm to you. I-i don’t know what got into me, I-” 

You noticed he started rambling a bit and… Tearing up. You had yet to see him cry about anything, so this surprised you. Your face grew with worry as you caressed his cheek. “Hey… It’s okay, I’m okay,” You said gently. He leaned into your touch and shook his head again. “Gods I am so sorry…” He apologized again, his voice laced with guilt. You kissed him sweetly on the nose and smiled at him. “My heart, I’m okay. Thank you for stopping when I said it.” He chuckled at that. “Of course I stopped. I want nothing more than for you to be comfortable,” He said gently, placing a soft peck on your lips. You kissed him back and smiled warmly. You had never had anyone who cared about your safety and wellbeing as much as he did, nor him with you. You both felt so safe together, and absolutely nothing could ruin that.

He pulled away slightly and took the bar of soap again, coaxing you over with his finger. “Come, my love, let’s finish getting you washed up.”

After you both bathed, you stayed in the spring for a few hours, talking about everything and nothing and enjoying each other’s company. The moon had risen a while ago, bathing you both in its faint blue light. You stared up at the moon as you sunk down into the water to your shoulders. You barely noticed the wound anymore, and you felt relaxed and very well healed.

 Astarion had gotten out a few minutes ago to dry off. He stared at you and had a devilish idea. He smirked to himself as he slowly slipped back into the water, trying not to make too much noise. He snuck up behind you, totally oblivious. Just as he was about to splash you with water, you flipped around and got his face and hair soaking wet, making him groan in frustration. “Gahh, my hair! My beautiful hair!” He pouted, making you laugh hysterically. “Sneaking up on a fighter, really, my love?” You said through laughs. He scowled a bit, then started to laugh as well. “Foolish idea, I know…” He admitted, wading closer to you. “But you didn’t have to ruin my hair…” He whined. You grin evilly at him, lifting your hand to his head.

“No, no! Stay back, you!” He shouted as he tried to get away from you. You chased him around the pool for a bit, laughter and playful banter filling the night.

Halsin and Shadowheart were silently watching you both from the clearing just before the pool, smiling sweetly. “She seems to be doing a lot better now, doesn’t she, Halsin?” Shadowheart queried, making Halsin chuckle as he replied. “What can I say… Love certainly is the best medicine.”

[moonselune]

Hey! I see some players think that Astarion changes in his tone when Wyll declares himself a duke (our bat boy loves power so much hahah). So, can you write about what would happen if Astarion found out that his beloved fem Tav is a rich aristocrat? 🤭 Have a good day! xx

Ahahahaha I had so much fun writing this and I hope you have a wonderful day !

Astarion x F!reader | Nobility

You and your companions finally reached Rivington, the outskirts of Baldur's Gate, after a long and arduous journey. The bustling village streets were alive with activity, but something unusual caught your attention. There, waiting in the town square, was a gilded carriage adorned with the insignia of a prestigious noble house. The horses, meticulously groomed, stood proudly, and the liveried footmen were perfectly polished, ready to serve.

Astarion's eyes widened as he took in the sight, a mixture of confusion and amazement crossing his features. "Darling," he began, turning to you, his tone incredulous. "What on earth is this?"

You took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable reaction. "That," you said, gesturing to the opulent carriage, "is my family's carriage. I believe I have been summoned to Lord Gortash's coronation."

Astarion blinked, clearly flummoxed. "Your family's carriage? And who exactly is your family?"

"I'm an aristocrat, Astarion, a Lady to be more precise" you admitted, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and determination. "I didn't think it mattered."

"Didn’t think it mattered?" he echoes, incredulous. "You’re an aristocrat, and you didn’t think it mattered?"

Lae'zel and Karlach, standing nearby, exchange amused glances. Karlach's hearty laugh breaks the tension. "Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, fangs."

Astarion ignores her comment, his attention solely on you. "You do realize you’ve deprived me of the joy of knowing I was courting a lady of wealth and status?"

You chuckle, shaking your head. You walked towards the carriage, talking quietly to one of the footmen. Astarion relaxed, believing that at least now he would be able to enjoy some luxury on this forsaken journey. But then he sees you shake your head and begin to lightly argue with the footman. You then abruptly turn away from them and walk back to the group.

"I have told the carriage to go, we will continue on foot." You announced to the group and Lae'zel and Karlach nodded happily, eyes fixed on the vampire who seemed to pale more than they thought was possible.

"You… you’re refusing the carriage? Are you out of your mind?" Astarion’s jaw drops in disbelief. He turns to Lae'zel and Karlach, seeking their support. "Am I going crazy, or is this utterly absurd?"

Karlach shrugs, grinning. "Personally, I prefer roughing it. Keeps things interesting."

Lae'zel nods, "Luxury breeds softness. Hardship breeds strength."

Astarion still looks at you outraged, demanding an answer for your ridiculous behaviour, and you sigh, "I don't like showing off my wealth. It draws unnecessary attention and separates me from the people we're trying to help."

"You don't like showing off your wealth?" He gestured dramatically to the gilded carriage, that was still lingering in case you had changed your mind. Though Astarion now looked like he was about to lose his. "Do you know how many people would kill for the chance to ride in something like this?"

Before you could even respond, Astarion started towards the carriage with fervour. "Well, if you won't show it off, I will! Imagine the envy we'll inspire! The-"

You quickly grabbed his arm, yanking him back. "-Astarion, no."

He huffed, clearly frustrated, and crossed his arms, sitting down on a nearby rock, like an upset child, grumbling to himself. "I can't wait to tell Shadowheart about this. She'll have a field day."

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the situation, you crouched down to his level, holding his hands as he pouted. "Astarion, I understand you're upset, but this doesn't change anything between us. I'm still the same person you fell in love with."

Astarion sighed, his anger giving way to exasperation. "Fine, fine. But I reserve the right to be upset about this for a while."

You chuckled, cupping his face with your hands and pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Fair enough."

Karlach watched the exchange with amusement, however, Lae'zel looked upon it with impatience. "Are we done with the theatrics? We have more important matters to attend to."

"Yes we are," You smile and stand up, pulling a begrudging Astarion up with you, "lead the way!"

[blkgirl-writing]

So. Technically... the Revivify spell only works for one minute after death.

Begging for a piece where Gale sees Tav go down in combat, everyone is fighting for their lives, meanwhile he's across the battlefield, fighting his hardest to get closer and feeling the minute they have to revive Tav slipping away...

Gale x Fem!reader

"Cold to the touch"

I have never finished a request so fast I'll be honest. This is so heartbreaking but absolutely amazing.

Tags and TWs: angst, a bit funny, some detailed graphic violence and blood, Gale in denial lowkey.

-

Sometimes the fights you picked should have been fights evaded

"Gale, go!" you screeched, seconds before the killing blow you your chest, blood rapidly pooling around your feet, too much blood, you whispered as you looked down with blurring vision, clutching at your skin, trying to stop the bleeding, even for a second. The last bit of your strength used to look back up at gale, and smile. your body thudded to the ground, completely and utterly lifeless.

Gale blinked. The wind knocked out of him like he was hit with a battering ram. He fractically looked around, who was close? no one. Astarion was high on the rooftop, Wyll and Karlach surrounded with no way out, everyone on the brink of death themselves. Lae'zel the furthest and least likely to help. That just left-

"Shadowheart? Shadowheart, HEAL HER!"

"I'm fresh out of spells-" Shadowheart yelled, looking back at your limp body. "I think...She's past anything I can do right now, anyway."

Gale's gaze went down to his own hands, the revive in his pocket, how many things were around him, and how much strength he really did have. Your body was getting cold, soul leaving body, time was of the essence.

"damn it" he whispered, squeezing his eyes tightly closed, concentrating on making sure he wouldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. If the thoughts of your beautiful life absent from the rest of his miserable one crept up, he'd be paralyzed, he simply could not dwell on the bleak future. "ok"

Gale forced himself forward, nearly slipping immediately and cursing himself. Running. if he wasn't out of all the magic he could muster he could simply misty step. Instead he was forced to make his way little by little while watching the last of life slip from you as the reality set in. He couldn't get to you in time. He needed to save himself and the others if there was any hope of even bringing your corpse to have a proper burial. He had to topple goblins and just stare feet away from you as your magic slipped permanently away from this world. Helpless, and tearful.

-

He wanted to cover you up. Clothes ripped open from your wounds, he didn't want you to feel exposed. Though, he knew you weren't feeling anything at all. But he had nothing. Once again failing himself and you when he felt you most needed it.

"There....there has to be something we can do" he held your freezing and damp hand in his own warm ones. Enemies blood pooled with your own,. the fight was won, but it truly felt wrong to say those words. He had been brushing your hair out of your eyes while the others gathered around. They'd been the furthest, so Gale had gotten precious moments alone. Muttering sentances he didn't finish. About how he had failed you. About what could have been. Maybe an I love you had fallen from his lips, but it didn't matter anymore, not if he could never hear the words he so wanted to hear back from you, from your own sweet voice.

"I don't know, I....I'm so sorry, Gale." Shadowheart softly touched gales back for a moment of comfort and caring that was so rare for her. that's how he knew it was real. "I know you cared."

I know you cared. He didn't know why those words were his breaking point, but he suddenly felt water dripping down his face. Silent tears rushing down his race. "I truly did."

"We will find a way, Gale. Have hope." Wyll crouched beside Gale on the ground. "I don't think we can do this without her."

"I'll bring her back. Somehow." Gale nodded, finally tearing his gaze away from you. Everyone stood around your corpse. Everyone with the same, grim look. Though, Wyll just looked...sad, sadness for Gales pain, and for the senseless loss of another.

Gale had to get you back to get you comfortable in camp. You couldn't stay here. Not for animals to ravage.

"I'll get her to camp for you, Gale. Don't ware yourself out" Karlach effortlessly hoisted your body over her shoulder. Gale gathered the items that dropped from your pockets on the ground, covered in grime and blood. But he simply wiped it away. He didn't want you to have to clean it off later. He'd worry about the red stains on his fingers and blotches on his clothes later. He just had to worry about getting you back, and never losing you again.

-

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[wiltedreamofbaldursgate]

Steady Hands, Frame My Love

characters: Astarion x race/class neutral fem!Tav/reader word count: +3.2k Rating: M trigger warning: mild-ish sexual content. bad eyebrows. This hasn't been beta-read nor am I a native speaker. read on ao3 read more BG3 one shots

Entrusting you with his face isn’t easy for Astarion, which is exactly why you’re so nervous about the whole thing to begin with. You want to do your very best—make him look his very best so that Astarion can feel good about himself. You couldn’t bear anyone making a bad comment on his appearance when he trusts you to be his mirror.

“Come out, spawn. There is no use in hiding.”

You know there is trouble when you spot Lae'zel in front of Astarion’s tent. Her tiny nose is scrunched up in a way that would be cute if it didn’t mean she wants to skin someone alive. The perfectly sharpened blade twitching in her hand is just another hint that she’s out for blood. You almost can’t blame Astarion for hiding from the Githyanki warrior’s wrath—almost, because it’s within every reason to assume he’s brought her wrath upon himself. 

Taking a quick look around camp, you find that everybody is suspiciously busy minding their own business for once, skillfully ignoring the one-sided commotion in front of your lover’s tent. You can’t really blame them either; it’s been a very long day, and everybody wants to get some rest before dinner. You have half the mind to do the very same when Lae'zel’s intense gaze suddenly locks with yours—an honest rookie mistake.

There’s no use pretending you haven’t noticed her now, so you put your journal aside and approach the red tent with long strides and a smile that you can only hope will have a calming effect on her. Unsurprisingly, your hopes are shattered instantly. 

Lae'zel doesn’t wait for you to friendly inquire about what the fuck the matter is this time; before you can even open your mouth, she’s all the way in your face.

“The spawn does as he pleases!”

Lae'zel would need to get a great deal more specific when it comes to Astarion, but you refrain from telling her so, opting for a questioning look instead. 

The young warrior shakes her head, annoyed that her explanation isn’t sufficient enough for your small istik brain to comprehend.

“It is the spawn’s turn to fetch water from the stream. Thus is his duty,” Lae'zel explains slowly, accentuating every word with a well-placed hiss to get her point across. “A duty he fails to perform.” 

You think it is progress that she isn’t waving her sword at you, although she does glare at you as if you were the offending party, which—since your relationship with the pale elf has become common knowledge around camp—you somewhat are.

“Where I am from, we make sure to keep our mates in check, however pleasing they might be. You might want to do the same.” 

Maybe not so much progress, after all.

“Haven't I made myself quite clear on that before, Lae'zel?”

Holding her intense glare, you stare the warrior down. You have made yourself clear on occasion—you aren’t Astarion’s keeper. 

It takes a moment, but Lae'zel is the first to break eye contact, eventually taking a step back. Not lowering your gaze, you wait patiently for her to continue.

“The spawn would better honour his word, or else…” She spits, not at you, but at Astarion’s firmly closed tent flap. 

“I will remind him,” you assure her, not unkindly.

Lae'zel looks you up and down before she inclines her head ever so slightly.

“I trust you will,” she drawls, glaring at the tent one last time before she stalks away.

Left to take care of the issue at hand, you frown at the closed tent flap. As much as Astarion bitches about pulling his weight in camp, it’s unlike him to not do his chores one way or the other. And now that you think about it, he’s set up his tent uncharacteristically fast earlier, too, not even trying to rope anyone in to help him do his work. The realisation that you haven’t seen him since he vanished into said tent quite a while ago settles unpleasantly in your stomach. 

“Astarion?”

You step closer to the heavy fabric closing off the tent’s entrance, listening. There’s no answer, although you do hear some hurried movement from within the tent. It’s a good sign, you suppose.

“You good in there?”

The silence stretches for another moment before Astarion finally lets out an exaggerated sigh. Going by the sound of it, he, too, must be standing rather close to the entrance.

“Truth be told, darling, I have been better.”

“Are you hurt?” You ask, not bothering to hide the obvious worry lacing your voice. 

When could he have even gotten hurt? Haven’t you checked up on everyone after your earlier fight with some overly pesky, giant spiders? Or is he just messing with you—trying to avoid his laborious chore after all?

It takes yet another moment for Astarion to mumble something incomprehensible in reply. With raised eyebrows, you repeat your question, which earns you another sigh from him, this time more exasperated than theatrical. 

“I just so happened to get some acid in my face when we took care of those cursed spiders and—”

“And?” You press, alarmed.

“It’s nothing, darling, really; it’s just—well…”

“Astarion!”

The vampire curses, and you can hear him step even closer to the tent’s opening, closer to you. You’re almost sure that if you pressed your hand against the fabric shielding him from you, you would be able to touch him. 

“They're gone,” he says, his voice so low you have to strain your ears to hear him. 

Your frown deepens. “What is?” 

More mumbling reaches your ear, and Astarion has to repeat himself twice before you can eventually make any sense of his words. You stare at the tent flap in disbelief. You can't have heard right.

“Your eyebrows are gone?”

Astarion inhales sharply. “Must you scream it around for everyone to hear? Come in, come in!”

Not knowing what to expect, you enter the tent. 

Astarion has retreated to the shadows; his hand is firmly pressed against his forehead. You stare up at him, trying to assess the situation. He looks pained alright, although you have an inkling it’s more from wounded vanity than actual injury. As you step closer to him, you give him a reassuring smile.

“So, acid, huh? I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He is not convinced. At all. Wordlessly, he’s staring back at you, his jaw set. Your smile fades.

“Let me take a look?” You try again, feeling your already shaky optimism dwindle further.  

He thinks it over for a couple of heartbeats before he slowly drags his hand to his hairline, pushing up the stands of white hair that usually fall so gracefully in his face… 

Astarion must’ve drunk a healing potion because the presumably once-angry burns on his skin have already faded into pale red blotches sprinkled all over his forehead. By morning, nobody would even be able to tell the acid burns were ever there—were it not for Astarion’s eyebrows, or what’s left of them, that is.

You instantly force your face into a mask of neutrality. You have to approach this very delicately.

“It’s… salvageable. Really,” is all you can blurt out, though. 

Astarion’s crimson eyes grow comically round, accentuated by the lack of eyebrows; he doesn’t believe a word you say, which you can’t really hold against him. You’re talking shit. It’s bad, and you wonder how in the nine hells you haven’t noticed this before.

“You can redraw them here and…there,” you go on for lack of anything better to say—Gods, you really should shut up. “Fill them back in, you know…?” 

Astarion wets his lips while you're evading his piercing gaze.

“Why, what a grand idea,” he breathes, shakily. “I never would’ve thought of that myself. If only there wasn’t this one peculiar little thing. What was it again, my dear?”

You cringe. Of course. Of course… How could you forget?

“Ah, right…” You only notice the delicate hand mirror Astarion was holding when it flies across the tent, shattering somewhere on the bare ground farthest from you. “I can’t fucking see my face!” 

As if all strength has left his body, Astarion sinks to the ground, where he lets himself fall back into his pile of blankets, arms draped over his eyes. It’s all rather dramatic, but you guess you can’t have one without the other. 

Grimacing, because you’re sorry for him, you sink to your knees next to him, gently tugging at his sleeve. 

“Do you want me to do it? Redraw them, I mean.”

You can tell by the way Astarion sits up as if struck by lightning that he was only waiting for your offer. Suddenly very close, he considers you with narrowed eyes.

“I suppose you could,” he muses, tracing the shape of your left eyebrow with his index finger. “You usually look presentable enough.” 

You let the comment slide, but not without rolling your eyes at him. It’s just show, though, a way to suppress a smile. Astarion thinks he’s sly about it, but you catch him often enough looking at you as if you were the sun at dawn. 

Of course, you would never dare mention that to him.

“Give me a minute,” you say instead, already rising to your feet, were it not for the cold fingers curling around your wrist.

Astarion gives you a stern look as he's holding you in place, his nose nearly brushing against yours. “Not a word to anyone about this.” 

You give him a solemn look in return as you comb your fingers through his hair, gently guiding some stray locks back into place. “I’ll take your secret to the grave.”

Your hand is trembling just a little—enough for Astarion to notice. Enough for that damn smirk to find its way to his lips. You hold your breath. 

“Nervous, love?” 

Yes, and it’s stupid because you’ve done this often enough—daily, even. It’s just easier to apply cosmetics on yourself, sitting in front of a mirror and not kneeling in front of him, trying to evade his piercing gaze. 

“Why would I be?” You scowl, readjusting the hold on your charred willow stick that has yet to make contact with Astarion’s skin. “Aren’t my eyebrows, are they?”

You shift closer to him, brushing against his leg with your knee, which doesn’t help your case at all. You can’t help feeling a little shaky when he’s this close—and he knows it. 

“No need to tremble like a virgin, then, my sweet.” 

Giving him a sharp look, you draw back a little, although you don’t make it far. 

“Maybe you just need to come a little closer still,” he purrs as his hand takes hold of the back of your knee, pulling you onto his lap in one swift motion. “Might be less distracting for you…”

For someone close to having a meltdown less than fifteen minutes ago, he’s surely having lots of fun now. Biting your lower lip, you adjust your weight, straddling Astarion properly. Trying to ignore the hard body pressing against yours, you assess the natural growth of his eyebrows again, eventually setting the tip of the charred willow stick down on his skin, only to remove it again. This won’t work like this. 

“Honestly, can you please just close your eyes?” 

Astarion scoffs. “Should I blow out the candles, too, while I’m at it? Leave the nightdress on?” 

“Shut up, or you’ll end up looking like a clown.” 

That eventually does the trick. He gives you one last look that is somewhere between peeved and wary before he closes his eyes. 

Entrusting you with his face isn’t easy for Astarion, which is exactly why you’re so nervous about the whole thing, to begin with. You want to do your very best—make him look his very best so that Astarion can feel good about himself. You couldn’t bear anyone making a bad comment on his appearance when he trusts you to be his mirror. The thought alone makes you shudder.

Astarion’s hand wanders up from your knee to your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze; this time, his touch is more encouragement than teasing. 

After taking a deep breath, you lean back in. 

With steady hands, you begin to redraw the missing parts of his eyebrows. Taking your time, you make sure to follow the natural shape of them; to blend out the colour where the charcoal comes off as too stark a contrast to his white hair. 

While you’re working, Astarion doesn’t move one bit, eager—for once—to not fluster you. It’s not until you lean back to consider the fruits of your labour that he opens his eyes again. 

“And?”

“Well,” you muse, “you look presentable enough.” 

He scowls as you throw his own words back at him; you suppress a laugh before you take his face between your hands.

“If I could see the stars right now, I could not tell them apart from you,” you proclaim, mimicking his dramatics once again. It’s not as funny when you do it, so you’re quick to add, “You’re as beautiful as ever.”

You mean it, and Astarion knows it; trusts that you do. He leans forward to brush a kiss against your lips, hugging you to him, which is as much thanks as you expected to receive. 

“Will you do it again tomorrow? And the day after,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck, “please?”  

“Of course,” you assure him, deepening the embrace, “until they’ve grown back.”  

Astarion hums in agreement and you remain like this for a moment before you pull back to look into his eyes, which are once again framed by a pair of sharp eyebrows accentuating his perfect features. 

“I should’ve noticed earlier,” you say, at last. “I’m sorry. I’m not a very good mirror, it seems.” 

Astarion frowns at you, the intensity of his gaze taking you aback as it is wont to do. 

“Don’t be,” he urges, gently taking your dominant hand in his. He runs his fingers along the back of it, careful not to put too much pressure on your still-raw skin. His touch stings nonetheless, reminding you of your own acid burns that have yet to heal—those spiders really are a menace. “You should be more careful, too, you know? You’re the only working mirror I have.”

You’re lying flat on your back before you can even gasp in surprise. To your embarrassment, your legs have already wrapped around Astarion’s waist; all you can see is that damn smirk on his lips as he’s towering over you, his face barely a finger width away from yours. Your breath hitches as you take him in; nobody has any right to be this beautiful. 

“It would be a shame if I lost it, my precious little mirror,” he sighs before pressing his lips to yours. 

It’s a far cry from his earlier kiss—heated, needy. Knowing you don’t stand a chance against his tongue gliding over your lower lip, you open your mouth to him, slowly losing yourself in him. There’s really nothing easier than that.

Your hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him even closer as your fingers dig through his locks, eliciting a low moan from him. This is a lot more thanks for your service than you’ve expected, but you find yourself unable to complain. Your mouth is far too occupied for that anyway.

It’s almost obscene how easily Astarion can undo your stays and by the time his hand finds its way underneath your thin shirt, your mind is long clouded by lust. Leaving goosebumps in its wake, his hand glides over your belly up to your sternum before it firmly cups your breast. The lazy pace of his thumb drawing circles around your hardened nipple has you aching your back, trying to ease the wet heat gathering between your legs. 

Wet.

Somewhere very far in the back of your mind, you remember that you had a reason for coming to him earlier—way before you ended up on his lap, let alone underneath him. Let alone this damn wet. What was it again? 

You break loose from Astarion to take a quick breath. Not wasting any time away from you, his lips begin to trace along your jaw, your throat, your collarbone; his wicked grin is painfully obvious against your skin. By the time you realise Astarion is scheming something, he’s already pushing his knee under your ass, repositioning you so that you can feel his hardness pressing against your core. You hiss at the sudden contact. 

Ah, right—hiss! Lae'zel.

You throw your head back with a sigh as Astarion begins to grind his hips against you, making any thought of the Githyanki warrior evaporate quickly. Fuck Lae'zel and her sense of duty and honour. You can just sit out her wrath with Astarion right here, right now, however long it may take. It doesn’t really matter that you’re not sitting much, either.

But then again, maybe this is why your companions take offence at you the moment Astarion is stepping out of line, although you’re sure they would be biassed, too, if they knew how positively divine he feels—especially when he’s teasing the waistband of your trousers with his long fingers as he does now. Your hips move in answer to his touch, and yet…Fuck.

You groan. Not with pleasure but from your own sense of duty. The others trust you as much as Astarion does; that’s why they somehow thought it wise to make you their leader. Almost annoyed with yourself, you prop yourself up on one elbow, pressing your hand against Astarion’s chest, telling him to stop before you’re way past the point of no return. 

He raises an eyebrow at you. His hair is messy and his lips are red and swollen from your kisses and by the Gods you want him to fuck you. It takes you a very long moment to gather yourself.

“Now that we took care of your issue,” you pant, tracing the shape of his left eyebrow with your index finger, “you might wanna go fetch water if you don’t want Lae'zel to wipe them off right away.” 

Tilting his head, Astarion gives you a long look. His fingers keep digging into your thigh which has you grinding your teeth to suppress another sigh. He doesn’t buy your attempt at keeping order and peace, not when he can undoubtedly feel you trembling with need for him. You’re not even protesting when he leans back over you, one arm next to your head to support his weight. 

“So, what?” he breathes against your shoulder before planting a hot kiss against your skin. And another. And another, as he is slowly kissing his way down your body. “You said you would redo them over and over and over again, didn’t you, darling?” 

Holding your breath, you watch your shirt being pushed up the lower he’s moving down on you, gasping only when the crisp evening air caresses your exposed chest. 

Astarion’s trail of kisses comes to a halt right below your belly button. His crimson eyes are looking at you expectantly but you’re too preoccupied with his fingers slowly undoing your trousers to make any sense of his wordless question. You swallow. 

“You did say that, didn’t you?” He repeats, the amusement evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you nod rather enthusiastically. “No problem. Not at all.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Astarion grins, finally freeing you of your trousers to see how pathetically ready you already are for him.

Duty can wait a little longer, you decide as you give yourself over to the pale elf. You only promised Lae'zel to remind Astarion of his chores, not that you would make him do them, you reason. 

You’re not his keeper, after all. 

[reverieblondie]

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

NSFW 18+!

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Rolan ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Series:

Dark Prince Rolan AU Read Here!

Seeking Advice - Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should ask advice from your friends?

Late Night Dip - Cal and Lia are worried about their brother, he's just so stressed and needs a break! Good thing you have an idea that could help...

Nobel Blood - High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

Taste so sweet -After a passionate make out session you find you just can't stop thinking of Rolan, and how sweet he taste.

Sub!Rolan HCs

Arabellan Dry

Girl dad Rolan! HCs

Healing Kiss

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Haarlep ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Domming Haarlep

Haarlep and Raphael reacting to Tav in Wavemother Robes

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Raphael ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

At Your Mercy

Mouse: Raphael x Haarlep in Fem!Tav form

Sacrifice

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Gale ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Portal Mishaps

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Zevlor ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Sub!Zevlor HC

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Aradin ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Aradin and Pegging

Aradin with Teifling Paladin

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Headcanons ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

BG3 boys with shy s/o

Raphael & Zevlor with shy s/o

BG3 boys with Calm and Collected (Kuudere) s/o

BG3 Running into Tavs crazy EX

BG3 boys with touch starved s/o

Haarlep & Raphael with touch starved s/o

BG3 boys responding to "You two should date!"

BG3 boys with teifling s/o

Karlach and shadowheart with teifling s/o

BG3 boys with crybaby s/o

Finding the Tiefling Bachelors Smut

BG3 When things end too soon.... (premature ejaculation)

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Cal x Lae'zel ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

The Beginning: Meeting in the Grove

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Short Thoughts ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

bachelors and drunken hookups?

Rolan and Zev with sick reader

Raphael who's warlock is Tavs Ex

sub!Rolan allowing Tav to bend them over

Final Kiss

[myers-meadow]

Foolish Gratitude (Rolan x Tav)

Pairing: Rolan x Tav

Summary: After you saved Rolan from the shadow people, his mood worsens. It's up to you to make him feel better. AKA Rolan hatefucks you <3

Warnings: smut, 18 +, dub-con, penetration, (mild) spanking, degrading language, fem Tav (she/her and vulva used), submissive tav, no aftercare shown in the fic, no discussion of kinks or consent, Tav is into it though ^^.

Word count: 1767

This is my first ever foray into writing Rolan 💞✨, please be nice. Reblogs and comments are very appreciated (please feed my brainrot i beg). Proofread by the very kind @gauntermetaverse - thank you! Divider by saradika-graphics.

Rolan is taking his loss hard. After that drunk night, he turns mean - doubly so after you save him from the darkness the next day.

The Last Light Inn is pleasant tonight. There's some gossip, some small hopes and dreams shared at a table, and some tears. At least there is still warm soup, you think to yourself as you sit down at a small table with a bowl full. It warms you in just the way you need it to. The rest of your companions are around, resting, playing board games, reading. Lae'zel is armwrestling whomever dares. Gale is talking to Halsin about the nature of the shadow curse. A quiet evening. Your bowl is empty, and you stand to return it to the bar.

"There we have her; our beloved hero," It could've been Raphael if it wasn't for the cruel sarcasm dripping from his every word. Rolan. "Come to the inn to gloat? To rub it into my face how much better you are?"

He's not even that drunk, but his anger is something fierce. In the past, you were understanding, kind. The man has been going through a lot. But now... Even you are losing patience in the face of his barbed words.

"Rolan," You start, your tone soft, not wanting this to escalate. "I know you're-"

He cuts you off. "No, you don't know. But I have something better in mind."

He grabs you by the fabric over your shoulder - you're in your camp clothes, no armour to protect you here - and drags you past the bar. All the while, he's hissing things at you like a cat who had her pride hurt.

To avoid escalation, you follow him willingly. Then, the door of a small food supply closet shuts and the lock clicks shut. The key clatters against the ground as Rolan drops it over his shoulder.

"A hero who doesn't know her place, that won't do..." He muses as he stands over you. A cruel smile licks at the corners of his mouth. "How fortunate I've always been a good teacher."

His tone is startling. He doesn't even seem drunk. "Rolan, that’s-" 

He clamps a hand over your mouth. He's so close that you feel his breath on your cheek as he turns your head to the side. He breathes deep. "You think you can solve everything." The grip on your cheeks is hard enough to make you feel he's gonna leave a bruise.

Your muffled sounds go ignored. Rolan chuckles, and it sends a weird tingling sensation through your lower belly.

"You're gonna have to be quiet for this lesson," He says, and with a dizzying movement, he turns you to face the wall. A warm hand gropes at your ass, through the thin fabric of that cute skirt you found in a chest at Sharess' Caress. His nails dig in. How good it feels, startles you. None too gently, he bends you over - still keeping his hand over your mouth.

"You're nothing more than any other adventurer in this inn. Yet you think you're owed all this gratitude, all this praise..." His voice curls meanly at the end. "You need to learn. To really feel where you belong." 

In his groping, he moves your skirt up and tucks in the waistband so it stays. The first slap, hard, short, without warning, has you twist against his hold, and with a muffled shout to match.

Rolan tuts. "Now, hero, is that how you take a little spanking? I would've thought you could take more. This is a disappointment, really."

The second slap lands on your other asscheek, just as stinging as the first. The third deepens the sensation. You don't struggle out of his hold, instead, you lean into it. After the fourth, he soothes your sore bum with strokes of his hand. That's far from the end, though. A fifth, a sixth, the heat increases, the stinging takes longer to leave after each slap. Seventh, eight, and you lose count. His speed increases, and your shouts of pain turn to whimpers as he tires you out.

He seems barely out of breath as he speaks again. "And that is the hero against the Absolute. Pathetic. Look at you. Whimpering after just a few meager slaps." Another sharp one lands, your whiny moan of pain punctuating his words. You're not sure you're hearing it right through the ringing in your ear, but it almost sounds like he moaned.

His hand lets go of your face, instead he pushes two fingers in your mouth. "If you can barely take a spanking, I'm not sure how you'll take this, but you owe me more than some pain."

The nails dig into your tongue, but you wet his fingers a bit too eagerly. "You want to help others, right? To serve them. You'll call me 'master', understood?"

You nod, but it's not enough. He jerks your head to the side by the fingers now hooked in your cheek.

"Yes," you manage to get out.

"Yes, what?" he grits his teeth. Another slap on your ass that feels like it's on fire.

"Yes, master." After you said it, you sigh in something close to relief that comes from the depths of your chest.

"Good. Finally you're beginning to understand." He lets go of your face fully, leaving you to feel cold without his touch. He tugs at the straps of your underwear, and the sound of fabric shifting emphasises the tension in your body. There was no way Rolan could've known your submissive streak, he really just needs to get all this pent up frustration out - somehow his wordless confidence and the lack of care for whether you enjoy it or not turns you on more. It's a primal feeling, that only very few people can unlock from within you. Exhilarating.

Something nudges between your legs, and with a start, you realise it's his cock. Even though you'd hoped this is where it was headed, had pined for him night after night, experiencing the real thing was so much more raw and real than you ever envisioned. He presses inside with little care for your comfort. It surprises you how smooth it goes in, even with you already dripping wet, it's still quite the stretch. His groan of pleasure is the most sinful thing you've ever heard.

His lips are at your ear, his tone changed completely to before. "Aren't you just good and wet for me? Filthy little slut."

Finally, his cock hits home somewhere deep inside, and the drag as he moves out is even better. "Gods, I needed this."

You can tell how much he needed this by how he wraps his arms around you, pressing your back against his chest. His horn bumps into your cheek, as he bites your bare shoulder. As slow as he went before, he seems to lose all control and sets a messy pace, slipping out and forcing himself back in again and again. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are disgusting.

"Perhaps you have some redeeming qualities yet," he says, his playful tone returning as he relaxes. His grip around your torso is crushingly tight and you try to reach down to touch your clit, whining as he won't let you. "Na-ah, your first lesson isn't even done yet, you naughty girl."

Rolan fucks you roughly, his horn keeps bumping into you but neither of you mind. Every time he thrusts in, it draws attention to your sore ass, its small edge of pain only heightens the pleasure. His groans and moans are delicious. You angle your hips to make him hit deeper and he delivers, with a bruising pace. 

“Who knew the hero would be such a good little slut? Fuck, you feel amazing.”

“Rolan,” you moan, pressing your lips against his cheek. 

As much as you imagined fucking him as intense, your fantasies are nothing compared to the real thing. You moan something high-pitched as he hits just right, dragging his tip back and forth against the most sensitive parts of you. The feeling builds quickly, even without being able to touch yourself, and your breath is catching as the pleasure of being filled transcends all. 

His thrusts stutter, and although it takes great effort, he pulls out, and whirls you around. Surprised, but altogether too overwhelmed to resist him. He tugs you down to your knees. Your core throbs, yearning for him, but it’s your lips that now enjoy the taste of him. He’s salty, and you taste your own wetness on his length as he pushes himself into your mouth. When you gag, he grabs a fistful of hair, and prevents you from leaning away. No choice but to take all of him as he pumps himself in and out. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth as you try your best to please him. His groans are delightfully filthy, heavy with all his pent up emotion. Your own desire makes you light-headed. As soon as your hand darts down to your core, Rolan slaps them away. 

“What did I say? No touching.” He’s just as stern as a school teacher. Your core throbs around nothing. He groans as he makes you gag, “The others should see you now, on your knees, doing so well to please your superior.”

His grip on your hair tightens to something uncomfortable. “This just shows what can become of the high and mighty hero - ah, fuck - who amounts to nothing good without proper guidance.”

His thrusts grow sloppy, yet deep, so deep, fuck you need him inside of you so bad - he moans and pulls out. Ropes of cum land on your face, some on your tongue, or across your chest. You twitch as several flecks get in your lashes. Rolan looks so proud, smiling down on you like this, so pleased. A sense of satisfaction swells in your chest, even as you still tingle with ghosts of his touch, longing to be sated. 

Rolan bites his lip. “Such a good hero, really willing to go the extra mile for those in need…” He considers you for a moment, tracing a finger over your face. “I’m sure this is the best reward you’ve ever gotten, dear hero.” 

You’re not sure whether the curl of his lip is playful or contemptuous. After collecting enough cum on his finger, he presses it to your lips, for you to clean off for him. 

Despite, or because, of his mean expression, you say just what he wants you to say: “Thank you, master.”

[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 1

Ch. 1 - The Adventure Begins

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: The adventure begins! Gale is setting off to meet with the expedition team, but first...how did we even get here?

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A strong sea breeze ruffled Gale’s hair as he stood on the deck of a ship nearing a small spit of land just east of Waterdeep. The island itself was nothing special, he knew that, but the people located there…they might be able to change everything.

He took a deep breath through his nose, scenting the salty air and wondering if today would be his last day breathing in fresh air for a while. Where he was bound to go, there would be no sun nor sky for some time, no wind to lift the hair from his neck, and no guarantee that he would make it back. But this was a chance in a lifetime. If he didn’t take it, he’d never get another opportunity to sate his curiosity.

Or set things right with Mystra.

Grimacing, he rubbed a hand absently against his chest, where the year-old dark mark of the Netherese orb lay dormant, hidden beneath his robes. For an entire year, he had isolated himself in his tower, trying to research ways to counteract the orb’s insatiable hunger for Weave magic, and failing that, trying to distract himself by researching nonsense. He’d all but mastered the dead languages of Netheril, both Netherese and Loross, and from there had gone on a whim to try and learn what he could of other languages, if only to have access to more reading material. But no arcane text in any language held the knowledge he needed. 

The knowledge of how to cure, stabilize, or rid himself of his greatest mistake, now housed in his chest, functioning as little more than a ticking time bomb.

Instead, he’d found himself absorbed with studies of the magics of old, the magic that existed before Karsus’s Folly. Magic like mythallars, great big orbs of power that could make entire cities float in the sky or submerge them completely underwater, yet allow for humans to walk and breathe air as easily as if they were on the surface. No such power existed anymore, except in histories and myths. Such colossal magic had long since been replaced with lesser magics, adhering strictly to Mystra’s post-Folly rules for the Weave. Not a single mythallar was left in all of Toril after Karsus’s Folly had destroyed the Weave and shattered them all.

Yet in his reading and research, he found himself returning again and again to the idea of mythallars, and specifically to one city that had housed the oldest one. Not a Netherese city, no, but a city that vastly predated Netheril. A city that was rumored to have gifted Netheril with the powers of flight.

Nautera.

It was all legend, of course. An elven city located somewhere in the midst of the sea, halfway between Faerûn and the elven country of Evermeet, home to the very first mythallar in existence. An island that no longer existed, disappearing a few thousand years before Karsus’s Folly, leaving nothing but open sea from Faerûn to Evermeet. No trace of it had ever been found, so these days everyone simply assumed it was an old bedtime story at best.

Besides, according to every human scholar, it was all hogwash. The city, the first mythallar, all of it. It was preposterous to think that the elves had invented mythallars before Ioulaum, the great mage of Netheril, had. Everyone with sense knew that mythallars were Ioulaum’s invention, a testament to human ingenuity, not elven trickery.  

But “everyone” hadn’t been following the clues the way Gale had, tracing connections between myths and histories to find kernels of truth, hints to suggest that Nautera had been all too real, once upon a time. Not only that, but that Ioulaum had been there sometime before he had invented mythallars. It was all hidden in throwaway references, marginalia in old manuscripts that no one cared to read anymore, footnotes long forgotten. But Gale, with nothing but free time on his hands while living isolated in his tower, had followed each breadcrumb meticulously from one to the next, growing more and more confident in the existence of Nautera.

That is, until he hit a wall. All signs pointed to the same source, an old text that, if it even existed, was likely lost to time or kept so deep in Candlekeep’s archives that there was no way Gale, newly humbled and fallen from grace, would ever be allowed near it. The Nauterran Account, it was called. A record written by an apprentice of Ioulaum’s recounting their journey to Nautera and the wonders they found there. If it existed, it was the last piece of the puzzle, the final source that would confirm whether or not Nautera actually existed…and if there really had been a mythallar there, centuries before the cities of Netheril ever took to the sky.

By the time Gale had realized the importance of the Nauterran Account, there was no use in trying to find it. He didn’t know the first place to look, beyond Candlekeep, and with the orb in his chest growing continually more unstable, the libraries and archives of Candlekeep were the last place he wanted to put at risk. His days were drawing to a close. He should have been preparing for a journey deep into the Underdark, or north to a secluded, icy vale, where he could wait out the inevitable explosion of the orb far away from anyone who might get killed alongside him. 

Yet he remained, unwilling to plan that kind of final journey. His thoughts were consumed by Nautera. But without that book, he was at a loss. Nothing else appealed to him. No other research mattered. He spent days either reviewing his notes, landing on the same old conclusions, or sitting on his balcony, looking eastward over the sea, wondering. Wishing. Dreaming. Not even Tara could distract him when his thoughts were on Nautera.

It was on one such dreary day that Elminster Aumar appeared.

Gale hadn’t been prepared for anyone to visit, let alone Elminster of all people. After a brief dinner and idle chatter, Elminster finally admitted he came not for chatter, but to give a message—both a promise and a warning, a gift and a deadline. Mystra was willing to offer what she considered forgiveness…but only on her terms. 

His message was simple. Mystra had agreed to stabilize the orb in exchange for a promise: that Gale would find a use for the orb’s errant magic before her charm wore off. He had, in effect, about six months to find something suitable. But “a use” could mean anything, and Elminster had gravely clarified that Mystra’s charm meant that Gale himself held the trigger to his own demise.

In other words, Mystra was asking him to die at a more convenient time and place.

No matter which way Gale turned it over in his mind, “a use for the orb’s errant magic” merely meant a suitable place for him to explode. So much for Mystra’s forgiveness in life. Death seemed inevitable. He was all but certain there was no spell on Toril that could cure him of his condition or siphon off the orb’s power, no scenario in which he would be able to give up the power locked within him freely without dying. And if he failed to find a use for the orb after six months…well.

It probably didn’t matter. He’d be just as dead.

But a command from Mystra wasn’t all that Elminster had brought. Though he had come professing to deliver a message, he had left behind a physical gift. “Some light reading,” he had said, chuckling to himself and passing over the canvas-bound package. Gale had looked cautiously at the old wizard before carefully unwrapping the canvas.

There, in his hands, was the long-lost Nauterran Account.

When he looked up, Elminster was gone, having disappeared without offering any further explanation, leaving behind only a single letter in the chair where he had been sitting. Written in an unfamiliar hand, it was a formal invitation (or perhaps proposal was the better word) for Gale to join an undersea expedition as a resident expert in arcane languages. Though the invitation lacked details, promising them on arrival at a small island to the east, Gale could readily connect the dots.

Elminster had opened up a path for him to Nautera. 

Whether Nautera held Gale’s salvation or not remained to be seen. By all accounts, the city should be in ruins. But if even fragments of their magic survived, if there were tablets to read or accounts to save…perhaps Nautera would have answers for Gale. 

And if not, well…the ruins of Nautera wouldn’t be such a bad place to die. Especially if aiding the expedition to get there meant proving to all the world that Nautera existed and that everything they thought they knew about Netheril was wrong. At the very least, he could go down in history as the man who proved thousands of Candlekeep and Blackstaff scholars wrong about the fabled islands of Nautera. 

That, if nothing else, was consolation enough.

Gale had answered the invitation immediately and wasted no time in packing his things, telling Tara to take good care of Morena while he was away, and to not breathe a word of what he was doing until he returned.

Now, several hours into the brief journey from Waterdeep to this tiny island, with the sea breeze on his skin, Gale was torn between a longing for more of this—sailing off toward a horizon, hoping to see more of the world—and a resignation that his final destination would be the ruins of a city far below these deep blue waves. He sighed and turned to sit on a long crate.

Only to hear and feel something bump within the crate as he sat down.

He sprang up again, staring at the wooden box with a baffled expression. Other than the sailors manning the small sloop, no one else should have been on board. Neither man, nor creature.

Narrowing his eyes, he reached for the lid of the crate. “Tara, you little minx, if that’s you in there…”

But before he could open the box, a sharp whistle sounded off behind him from the upper deck. “Reef the sails! Bring us in nice and steady, mates!”

It was time to depart. Gale cast one last suspicious look at the long crate before turning away to face the rudimentary docks constructed on the island.

Island was a bit of a generous term for the place where the ship docked, considering Gale could see every inch of land simply by turning his head. The island housed only a single stone building and a small pier, but this was where the invitation had directed him, and sure enough, someone was waiting for him on the docks. 

A red-skinned tiefling woman stood there, arms folded, watching them approach. She was tall, easily taller than him, with dark hair and one horn broken off. She sported a variety of black tattoos, but perhaps the most notable thing about her was that she was on fire, and yet barely seemed to notice. She grinned at him as the ship drew slowly to a halt, the sailors hopping off to secure the ropes.

“I take it you’re our expert in gibberish?” she called up to him. “Man with the words and all that?”

“I suppose I am,” he responded, shouldering his pack and walking down the gangplank the sailors had set up. He offered his hand for her to shake. “Gale of Waterdeep, at your service.”

“Karlach Cliffgate,” she said, taking his hand for a very quick but strong handshake. She let go and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Come on, the boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting. He’s been itching to get going.” She turned to the sailors. “You know where to store that stuff. Bring it downstairs, nice and easy, yeah? The sooner it’s on the submersible, the sooner we can shove off.”

“You got it, mate,” was the sailor’s reply. 

Without waiting to see if Gale would follow, Karlach turned and led the way toward the stone structure. Gale glanced back at the ship, wondering what was inside the crates, but figuring he’d probably find out soon enough. They were all going to the same place, after all.

The building contained only a small, sparsely furnished room and a staircase that led down into an underground space. As he followed Karlach down below, descending into darkness and emerging in torchlit passageways that seemed to lead deeper and deeper underground, Karlach kept up a steady stream of conversation.

“So, s’this your first time in a submersible?” she asked. “Mine, too, if I’m being honest. I know the boss loves these things, and I’ve worked with him for years, but I’ve never gone down in one of them. Gotta admit, I’m a little nervous.”

“Nervous?”

“Well, sure. I’m using to tackling things head on, you see. It’s my job. Bodyguard and all that. Assistant to his lordship. Big gal who carries all the smokepowder barrels. Whatever my boss wants me to do, you know? But if I’m trapped inside a bit metal ship…” She shrugged. “Doesn’t do much good to punch the walls.”

Gale decided that he liked Karlach immediately, though he was surprised she would talk so openly about her role on the expedition. It was his understanding that the expedition was rather hush-hush. Then again, they must be two or three levels below the surface by now, and well away from the other sailors. 

“Fear not, Karlach,” he said. “If anything should go wrong in a submersible, I’ll find a way to give you something to hit that isn’t a metal wall. I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

She laughed. “Okay, I like you. I think you’re gonna fit right in with the rest of the team.”

“The rest of the team?”

“Yep. Come on, that’s where we’re headed. Once we’re all together, we’re shipping off.”

The underground passageway soon gave way to thick glass, steel bars, and metal floors, all sloping gently downward. They had emerged in some kind of underwater structure, built out of the side of the island. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the glass ceiling, blue-tinted and faint, while schools of silver fishes drifted silently by, unfazed by the fiery tiefling and the purple-clad mage walking nearby. 

Through the windows, Gale could see a larger glass-and-steel room up ahead, with a branching passageway that connected to a glass-enclosed dock. There, laid out along the side of the enclosed dock, was the biggest submersible he had ever seen. Shaped similarly to the body of a dolphin, complete with fins and a long, trailing tail, it was easily as long as his tower was tall and as wide as a modest estate in Waterdeep. By appearances alone, it looked large enough to house and feed an entire village of people. At one end, the “head” of the body, the structure tapered off into a blunt point. Thick glass made up most of top half of the head, allowing for visibility when navigating the submersible. Or so he assumed. He knew very little about constructs and mechanics.

“Impressive and terrifying, isn’t it?” Karlach asked, glancing over her shoulder at him. “We’ll be inside in a minute.”

“I can’t wait,” he mumbled to himself, though a familiar anxiety thrummed just beneath his skin. He reminded himself that he had a fresh new spellbook with plenty of helpful spells, for breathing underwater, darkvision, and more, and that he would be fine. But even so, the thought of being trapped thousands of meters below the sea with people he had never met before…

It wouldn’t have been his first choice of adventure.

He focused on the task at hand, following Karlach into the wider glass room that connected the passage from the island to the underwater docks. This room was alive with activity, with sailors and workers moving to and fro organizing supplies and getting them down into the submersible. A few, more colorful characters were lounging in various places around the room. Gale was surprised to see a githyanki woman, of all things, among those gathered, as well as a smartly-armored drow woman.

The githyanki lounged casually against a table at the center of the room, arms folded, watching the workers with narrowed eyes, while the drow leaned over a map on the same table, frowning down at it. To the left, a dark-haired half-elven woman stood with a much, much taller, broad-shouldered elf dressed in druid regalia. Both were examining the contents of a crate, which seemed to be full of potions and herbs, and speaking in low tones. Karlach broke off to go talk to a dark-skinned human off to the right, a handsome man who greeted her with a smile and a curious glance Gale’s way. 

The drow woman looked up as Gale drew nearer, eyeing him with sharp, analytical disdain. He could see her crimson gaze flicking quickly between his robes, his pack, his stance, and his face before she straightened and set a hand on her hip.

“Wizard,” she said. “You must be the one with the book.”  It wasn’t a question.

“Excuse me?” he asked, blinking in surprise. 

She ignored him. “Stay here. I will fetch his lordship. It is about time this operation was underway.”

Gale watched her move toward a figure standing at the far end of the room, a dark-haired man watching the proceedings out the window with his hands clasped behind his back. The man leaned his head to listen to whatever the drow woman said and then looked over his shoulder. A quick, charismatic smile stole over the man’s features as he spotted Gale and he quickly made his way over to the table, rounding it to draw nearer to Gale.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said genially, spreading wide his arms. “Just the man we’ve been waiting for. Gale of Waterdeep, I presume?”

“The very same,” Gale responded, trying not to sound as cautious as he felt.

The man continued to smile. His eyes were almost completely black from pupil to iris and his smile, though seemingly geniune, was likewise oily. Gale knew on instinct that this man was used to controlling a room, whether that be through charm or pressure. 

Better to stay on his good side, for now.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the man said. He placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head. “I am Lord Enver Gortash."

[calypso707]

Astarion x Fem!Tav bard : Fruit of The Poisonned Tree

Intro : Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

Tags : 3rd pov for this one because i'm more comfortable with it, few chapters comings, this story will be mainly romance I guess, risk of spoilers about Astarion, ascendant form coming..

I hope you’ll like this first chapter, enjoy ! ~

Chapter 1 -

She missed her home at Baldur's Gate deeply. Although the majority of the inhabitants were humans, she had always felt at home there, with the river Chiontar within easy reach. For a bard, she had risen quite successfully and was well liked by the populace and the local lords, often performing at balls and other festivities. What she missed was practising her music on the riverbank, singing to the Blushing Mermaid from morning till night without her vocal chords weakening. She missed the simplicity and comfort of her past life. Quite simple. And in just a few days, it was all gone.

She had been kidnapped by mindflayers, had an illithid larvae inserted behind her eye, survived the crash of their ship,had fought gnolls, goblins and other creatures and now she was sleeping under the stars surrounded by odd companions. A few details aside, that was all. Normal people would have spread this over several months. She was still trying to figure out how she had managed to survive this far.

She looked towards her companions who were surrounding the campfire a few metres away. She had isolated herself, as she like to do, to be alone with her thoughts. Her eyes passed over each of her companions, starting with Lae'zel, a gith she had met aboard the nautiloid. However grumpy her nature was, she had shown unfailing loyalty and was a great ally. She had also crossed paths with a cleric and disciple of Shar by the name of Shadowheart. Then she met Gayle, a magician, in the funniest possible way. Wyll, nicknamed the Blade of Frontiers, son of the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate who had made a strange pact with a devil, Karlach, a tiefling with a fiery temper and, finally, him.

Astarion.

Tav finally focused her gaze on him, comfortably seated on a wooden chair by the fire, his feet resting on a log. In his right hand he was holding a steel cup, and she could easily guess that the inside was some old brandy, the liquor he enjoyed the most. In his other hand, he was holding a book, he seemed to be absorbed by his reading. From time to time, Karlach teased him to include him in the conversation with the others. The bard tilted her head slightly and squinted her eyes to read the title engraved in gold on the cover of the book, "The Curse of The Vampyr". She held back a smile at the irony of the situation and wondered about the veracity of the tale. Did he see himself in what he was reading? She was curious to know exactly what the manuscript was about - was there anything new she did not already knew?

Her gaze followed the curve of the vampire's arm to focus on his face. His perfect face lit by the dancing light of the fire in front of him. She caught a glimpse at his fangs as he silently read parts of the book, her eyes detailing his perfectly shaped nose before finally coming to rest on his eyes. It was as red as the blood itself, and it pierced her soul every time he looked at her. She felt her heart skip a beat - she had never imagined herself becoming allied and close to such a creature. She had never seen anyone like him. He was dangerously charming and eloquent beyond compare. He was quick-witted, mischievous, teasing and delighted in the misfortune of others. He had a penchant for manipulation, lies, expensive alcohol, art and poetry. And she cursed herself for being drawn to him. Because she knew the influence he could have on her. He was the devil on her shoulder who drove her to commit terrible sins.

It took all her strength to stop staring at him like that, and she returned her attention to the violin at her feet, her fingers brushing the strings. Music was her magic, but it was so much more: it was also a sign of power. A power that could keep battles alive, make heroes eternal, but also shatter reputations and turn cities to pieces. She took a deep breath, as if to restore her own self-confidence, and picked up her musical instrument to return to the others. As she approached the campfire, she realised that everyone had already gone back to their occupations, except Astarion. The vampire looked up from his book to examine the young woman for a few seconds; she could not tell if it was the firelight that was having that effect, but a strange glint shone in his eyes. He stopped reading completely as he closed the book and locked his hands against his chest, still looking at her as she awkwardly sat down at the opposite of him.

"Interesting book? Did you learn anything new?" asked Tav, grabbing a half-full cup from the ground at her feet. Bringing the cup to her lips, she took a big gulp and immediately regretted it, repressing the urge to wince. From the strong aroma of the alcohol, she guessed that it was Chultan Fireswill.

"Surprisingly, no," he sighed. "I was expecting to learn something unusual, so I must admit I am a little disappointed," said Astarion, shrugging his shoulders.

She smiled at his answer, her eyes glued to the flames waving in front of her. The fire was blocking her view of Astarion and it was no bad thing, given how easily she lost her composure when she was alone with him and he liked to take advantage of that. She was glad there was this barrier between them.

"Now, darling, are you trying to run away from me?" asked Astarion. She was able to guess the mischievous smile on his lips. She barely had time to reply when she saw him rise from his chair, walk around the fire and come to her side. He held out his right hand, the other resting casually on his hip.

"All this brandy and small talk whetted my appetite. Shall we ?"

Tav lost herself in his crimson eyes for a few seconds before finally grabbing his hand to get up, leaving her violin on the bare ground. The vampire quietly led her to his tent, which she entered. It was not the first time she had entered it, but the smell wafting through the small space made her heart throb every time. Brandy, rosemary and bergamot. She looked over her shoulder at Astarion, who was closing the entrance to the tent with his agile fingers before returning to her. His fingertips grazed the crook of her neck, a shiver running through her body. He gently wrapped the long braid around his arm as he positioned himself behind her, applying gentle pressure to tilt her head back.

"I have waited for this moment with great patience," he said hoarsely.

Tav tried to calm her breathing, excitement and apprehension gradually taking over her body. She hated as much as she enjoyed the effect he had on her. Astarion tugged gently once more on the braid to tilt her head to the right, exposing her neck completely. He lowered his head, inhaling the scent she gave off before placing a chaste kiss on her sensitive skin. He slidded his other hand up her stomach before touching her breasts, grasping the lace of her corsage with his fingertips and pulling it with a calculated, disconcerting slowness to reveal the birth of her breasts. She half-opened her mouth, her breathing getting heavier and heavier.

"Stop playing that little game," she said. "Be very, very quiet, darling. You do not want to wake up the others" he answered, teasingly.

He then began to place another kiss behind her pointed ear, before placing another one against her neck. She felt something cold brush her skin, she guessed it was his fangs. This was followed by a stabbing pain that radiated throughout her neck. It was not the first time he had fed on her, but each time the ache surprised her. She leaned her back against his chest and placed her hand on Astarion's, which was resting on her breasts, intertwining her fingers with his. She listened to him feed, closing her eyes. Each of his sips, each of his breaths sounded like a melody to her ears. For her, this kind of moment was just as sensual and intimate, it brought them closer in a different way and that was what she enjoyed. Every day, she longed for his touch, his lips against her skin, his voice in her ears, his whole being.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

thank you so much for reading this first chapter, i hope you liked it! I've published the rest on Ao3 : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree. I'll mainly be posting my OS on Tumblr!

[primal-savagery]

Finished my big save a couple days ago now and broke my heart having someone else become a Mind Flayer besides Orpheus. I'm still ironing out Elkas and Roshan's backstories, but I do know that Roshan likely wasn't a good person before she met the rest of the party and decided that this would be a fitting ending for herself...Though I feel terrible for Halsin having to witness it.

Also going to have to stick with my original headcanon that Niabi runs off to the Hells with Karlach and Wyll, because SOMEHOW Vel ended up with more Karlach approval than she did. And as a result, Niabi got left behind.

THEN TAKE NIABI WITH YOU. SHE'S READY. SHE HAS THE NECKLACE THAT SETS HER CON TO 23. SHE'LL BE FINE. YOU LITERALLY PROPOSED TO HER MY MAN.

Obligatory Vel getting ready to beat some ass posting, but I was thrilled to finally get the updated epilogue bedroom chat between her and Astarion because somehow them holding hands gets me worse than anything else. I was also thrilled at the conclusion of the conversation she had with Minthara in the end. They never really got close; definitely an alliance of convenience more than anything. But part of me likes to believe that Vel sticking to her guns so hard throughout the whole ordeal, maintaining that she would never be tempted by power, and then following through with that in the end earned her a strange sort of respect in Minthara's eyes. Vel knows what she's about, and it isn't whatever Minthara's about.

Made sure that she also hugged Halsin. Figured he needed it.

Also WHY can't Elkas run off to the Astral with Lae'zel if Orpheus is alive? He geared up to fight Vlaakith! He was ready to go! This was his new calling! But...Perhaps dealing with Vlaakith's holdouts on the Sword Coast is a worthy cause too. And they are indeed raising Xan together which is the one outcome I was chomping at the bit for. Absolutely in love with how in love Elkas is with her. This man is hopeless.

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Hi! I like to request a drabble/fic for Laezel x pcos!Tav(female)? PCOS is Polycystic ovary syndrome, some women have it and has them have hormone imbalances. This causes beards to grow. Can we have Tav (who always had a covering over their face to hide their beard cause they’re ashamed) try to shave it off to look “presentable” for when Lae’zel comes to their bed? This is taking place the night when Lae’zel and Tav sleep together the first time.

omg :0 yes!! i didn't even know this was a thing!! i will deffo try my best to represent this as best as I can and do your ask justice!! also u didn't specify what class you wanted reader to be so for the purpose of the mask, she will be a human paladin! (god isn't important) she will also have more of thick scruufy!!

Eat at your doubts | Lae'zel x Fem!PCOS! Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: reader insecure of her looks (rememeber queens, kings and imperial highnesses, y'all are so beatiful and very much deserve ever ounce of love you reviece and more!!), reader cutting her facial hair.

You adjusted your helmet, uncomfortable with the way it was positioned. Trekking your way on the path, you couldn’t wait to head back to camp and take it off. You hear the chatter of your party mates as you all near your last stop, you need to buy a couple of things. Once in the grove, you turn to the group.

“Hey, I need to get a couple of things before we turn in. You guys can head back if you need to.” You say, your voice was somewhat muffled through the helmet. While unconventional at times, you found it easier to hide your face. Thankfully, in a group where everyone had their secrets, no one pressured you for yours. Everyone acknowledged you, before they dispersed, some heading back to camp, others finding something to do. You are about to turn when you hear someone call out to you.

“Istik.” You turn, to see that Lae’zel remains. You hesitate, unsure of what she wants. You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say that you didn’t harbor some feelings for the gith woman, you were fascinated with her. Her mere presence and intimidation were enough to pierce you through your heart.  You turn to face her, letting her know that she has your attention. She doesn’t say anything, looking you over before stating what she wants. “I have a confession. I was too hasty to judge you. I thought you witless, gutless, unimpressively bland.”

“...What about now?” You ask, trying to keep your voice loud enough for her to hear it.

“Now, well- you have earned my respect, and more still. You’ve proven your wits. You are efficient and dominant, in and out of battle. You’ve proven your courage. I swear, you would tear the horns of one dragon to plunge into another.” She says, her voice growing ever so slightly more feral with each inkling of her desire. You feel your face getting warmer at her praise. While odd, your knowledge of gith, while extremely limited, made you understand that being the best soldier there was is the highest of compliments. You tense a bit, however Lae’zel doesn’t seem to notice. If she did, she didn’t make any effort to mention it as she continued. “And you’re hardly bland. Your scent alone is enough to make my neck sweat and my hair stand on end.”

‘Oh!’ was all you could think. You knew for sure that you wanted the woman in front of you. You rack your brain for possible responses that don’t make you sound pathetic. 

“The feeling is mutual, Lae’zel.” You say, surprised you didn’t fumble your sentence. Wanting to return her praise, you continue, “You know how to set my heart racing. Seeing you covered in blood after a battle is when you look your best.”

“Good.” She says with a look that seems to show her satisfaction. You think she is done when she continues, “I want to taste you. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps later. But I want it all the same. Do you?”

“Uhh…” You freeze. You so desperately wanted to share yourself with her, however, there were certain…things hindering you. On the other hand, you knew that you would never get a second shot. Although hesitant, you agree. “Yes. I want to share my body with you Lae’zel.”

“Yes. Perhaps one night soon, I will come to your bunk and take what’s mine.” You flush a little more at her already laying her claim on you. You know deep in your heart that she doesn’t mean it in the romantic sense, but it flutters your heart all the same. “Until that night comes- I shall keep enjoying your scent.”

She leaves soon after, leaving you essentially a puddle. Your brain takes a while to catch up, and after snapping back to reality, you hurriedly turn to the inside of the grove. Rushing to the merchant, you make a list of what you need, adding more to the list. ‘I will need a dagger and mirror…’

▪────  ⚔  ────▪

A couple of nights had passed since your talk with Lae’zel. Since then, you grow anxious that she will come up to you with no warning and you will have no time to prepare. Much to your grace, and slight disappointment, there hasn’t been a night since when everything was silent. It was quite hectic, from the dream visitor to meeting Scratch and Wyll’s pact owner and the person who was hunting Karlach. However, it seemed today was going to be the first quiet night in a while. Lae’zel also seemed to notice this, as when the camp wasn’t looking, she pulled you in close and whispered in your ear. “Tonight is when I will claim what is mine. Be prepared for a long night.”

You nodded, and anxiously headed to your tent. Now you sat in your tent, with a handheld mirror and a dagger in front of you. Your helmet was still on. You bring your hands up to your helmet and leave them there for a moment, scared that anyone would walk in. However you knew that no one would, no one ever waltzed into your tent, however, you have this fear stilled into you that they could. Afraid of them seeing you under the mask. Even at night, when your tent walls were the only thing around you, you slept with something covering your face. You even made the extra effort of sneaking off to the nearby lake late at night every day, just to clean off any blood that remained from the battles. Lifting the helmet slowly, still fearful of someone wandering in. Once your helmet passed your nose, you took in the smell of the fresh air around you, the smell of the forest, dirt, lake, and everything overwhelmed you ever so slightly, you considered leaving it on and waiting for Lae’zel that way. You stopped that train of thought as soon as it entered your mind. Out of everyone at camp, you wanted her to be the one to see you. Taking the helmet off entirely, you take a deep breath of fresh air, the cool air of the night relieving you. 

Placing your helmet down next to you, you reach for the mirror with a slightly shaky hand. You can’t bear to stomach the anxiety of seeing your face, since for as long as you could remember, you had avoided your gaze. You knew that if you wanted to do what you needed you needed to see what you were dealing with. In your reflection, you saw yourself, your acne, and your beard still as prominent as it was before the illithid had picked you up. You bring your hand up to your face, touching the scruffy hair that was along your jaw. It seemed that there was way more than normal, which made sense it had been at least a couple of weeks since you last touched your razor. You look at the dagger you picked up at the merchant’s.

While it was still a dagger, it looked fine enough to use as a razor. You reach for it and find a way to find the best way to shave without it being awkward. After some time, you managed to get comfortable, and you started to shave. While it was uncomfortable to shave with no water, you had to do with what you had. Making decent progress, you failed to notice that footsteps approaching. 

“Istik, I have come to sate you and be sated.” Lae’zel opens your tent, startling you and causing you to nick yourself. You pull the dagger away from your face and bring a hand to where you cut yourself. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad, but it still hurt. Hastily grasping at the cloth you use to cover your face in the evening. You pressed the cloth to the lower section of your face, only leaving your eyes, and turned to Lae’zel, who was confused at the entrance of your tent. “What are you doing?”

You don’t say anything, instead opting to look at her. All your life, you have never had the correct answer to explain your situation. No doctor seemed to know what was causing you an abnormal amount of acne, irregular menstrual cycle, deeper than average voice, and the most evident feature, a beard. Physically, you were a woman; you had all the bits and pieces, but you also had the body hair of a man. You even strayed from relationships, throwing yourself deep into your oath, in fear of your partner being turned off by you. Lae’zel moves closer, before kneeling on the floor in front of you. Her hand reaches towards your hand that was holding the cloth. You panic and move back, causing her to growl and reach for your hand. Forcefully, she pulls your hand down, causing you to yelp in surprise and try to stop her. With the cloth no longer around the bottom half of your face visible, Lae’zel sees you in whole. You try to grab the cloth again, however, her grip is so strong that she helps your arm in place. She spends a while looking at you, and feeling ashamed you turn your head.

“You never said what you were doing.” Lae’zel’s stern voice makes you flinch a bit. Still looking away, you try to answer her. 

“I…I was shaving.”

“Why?” Her question caught you off guard. You look at her, now confused. 

“Huh?”

“What are you shaving for?”

“I just…” You trail off, confused as to how she doesn’t understand. “I wanted to look presentable for you.”

“Tas’ki. Did you not listen to me?” She says. You feel your face morph into further confusion. At your expression, she rolls her eyes and explains. “When I told you I wanted you, I meant your strength, your fierceness in battle. All you humans look alike to me. What does it matter to me if you look presentable?”

With the way she explained it, it made sense to you. Feeling foolish, you look down again. You hear her smack her teeth before she drags you out of your tent. 

“Wuh- Lae’zel- Where are we going?”

“To be sated. I came to you to lay my claim on you, and I will before the sun rises. I will lead, you follow.” As she dragged you away from camp, you can’t help but feel free. It had been years since you walked into the night without any of your masks. For you to walk out without worrying about someone judging you. Hand in hand with Lae’zel, you felt your heart flutter at the thought that she accepted you. She wanted you. Regardless of your whole predicament, even if you weren’t desirable to parts of the land, you were wanted by her. 

And truthfully? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I WANTED IT TO ☹️☹️☹️ I was partially researching it to PCOS to see how else it affected women and I wanted to incorperate that as well. Hope you enjoyed and really hope I did this ask justice!! it is also short so I apologize once more :(

[pagesfromthevoid]

this is me trying | g.d. | 1

Denial —During this stage, individuals may feel shock or numbness, and they might refuse to believe that the loss has occurred.

Gale Dekarios x fem!tav

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Angst, break ups. This story is NOT happy

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

Something bittersweet grips Tav's heart with icy fingers, its presence a comforting illusion amidst the wreckage of the city. The Netherbrain –the very thing that brought all of them together –has been slain. It’s remains scattered around them –literal pieces of it to mindflyers who fell when it died to bystanders who didn’t deserve the be victims –and the Crown of Karsus was sinking to the bottom of the river before them. As she stands on the worn dock of Baldur's Gate, the weight of exhaustion settling upon her shoulders like a leaden cloak, she clings to the fragile hope that maybe she’s only feeling this bitterness because for the first time in nearly a year, she doesn’t have a reason to get up in the morning.

As she turns to say something, Astarion suddenly hisses and the sound if skin burning echos around them. He apologizes frantically, voice cracking in panic as he takes off back into the shadows that await him once more. Tav wants to run after him, and she almost does, but Asterion's hasty retreat opens the door for the rest of her companions to speak up about their next steps.

Lae'Zel and Orpheus, both fierce and proud, offer their good-byes in the only way they know how. Short, void of emotion, and to the point. When Tav asks what they intend to do, Lae’Zel explains they will embark on a quest of their own –one to take back her people from Vlaakith. She’s certain that the Gith’s leave will cause a hole in heart too big to fill but Lae’Zel promises to stay until everyone else has left. The eyes she’s giving Shadowheart give her away, though, and Tav nudges her towards the cleric. Lae’Zel elbows her back a bit too hard. Shadowheart promises she will be around for a little while longer –she is going to return to the Selunite Outpost with Dame Aylin and Isobel, and learn more about her past. Shadowheart says she will be okay, and that she won’t be too far away for long. Her eyes are on Lae’Zel, though, and Tav also pushes her towards the Gith. They have more to talk about than they are willing to admit.

Karlach is the one that chose to evolve into an illithid, and while Tav is thankful that her friend is not going to die, Karlach must hide until it’s safe for her to show her new face. The tiefling –because Karlach will always be a tiefling to her –promises to visit when she gets “some damn good transfiguration shit” going, but the promise feels empty when they should be celebrating. Wyll remains by her side, because where else is Wyll going to go? He is the next duke, and he is the most consistent person she’s ever met. Devil or not, she knows Wyll won’t be going anywhere and that’s one less hole in her heart that she’s thankful for. Halsin promises to remain as well for a short while –he wants to return to the once-shadow cursed lands and rebuild, but he is going to help those who have lost families first. Orphans and those who lost more than they can rebuild, he will offer a place with him. She is welcome as well, but she has a home to return to.

She has Gale.

She has Gale, and he has promised her a home in Waterdeep with him after they rebuild Baldur’s Gate. He has promised her a home, and love, and himself. And that’s all Tav needs.

Except, the way he’s suddenly talking –she’s wondering if she’s everything he needs.

“The crown is ours for the taking,” he’s saying, motioning out to the water. Tav stares up at him with furrowed brows that are sticky with dried blood. “I could reforge it with the stones.”

“We promised it to Raphael,” she reminds him, voice hoarse from screaming most of the day away.

“We’ve just defeated a Netherbrain. We can take on a devil –more so if I become a god, my love.”

Tav is unsure what to say to that. “I thought you had put the notion of godhood behind you –I thought you and I were to return to Waterdeep?”

“We will,” he promises, but the words sound painfully empty and he’s not looking at her still. His eyes are on the water, where the crown hides below the surface. “We will once I reforge the crown and become the best version of me.”

“What about me?” She asks.

“You will remain here,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I must face Mystra myself –alone. The mortal world is no longer enough for me –this life is no longer enough for someone of my abilities. I know what I meant to do.”

He speaks of ascension, of transcending the mortal realm to claim the mantle of godhood, as if such a path were his birthright. All she hears is that the mortal world is not enough; this life was not enough –she is not enough. 

Tav is not enough for Gale.

His words echo in her ears, a chaotic display of selfishness that is suddenly drowning out every other sound around her. Her blood is rushing in her ears, her heart feels like it is losing the last piece that is holding on by a thread. She reaches out, her trembling fingers seeking solace in the warmth of his touch, but he is already slipping away, his gaze fixed upon a distant horizon that she cannot hope to follow.

“Gale,” she says, and there’s tears in her eyes as he turns back to her. He presses a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“All will be well,” he promises but again, the words are empty as he pulls away. 

That is his good-bye to her, and the wave to his companions for the last year is just as meaningless. And now she is standing on the docks of Baldur’s Gate, watching as Gale Dekarios walks away from them then disappears through a portal that he conjures away from the rest of them. 

No one knows what to say.

No one knows what to do.

No one knows how to react when Tav’s knees suddenly buckle under and she collapses to the ground, eyes staring blankly at where Gale once stood.

She does not register the words her friends are saying. She does not fully hear how angry they are, how disappointed in him they are, how concerned for her they are. Tav knows they’re talking; she knows they are staring at her; she knows they are helping her off the ground and holding her up. But none of it registers as her mind races in panic.

It’s Lae’Zel who finally gets her to listen. 

“The wizard has made his decision, as poor of a decision as it is.”

“He’s going to come back,” Tav simply replies, shaking her head. But she’s not sure she believes that herself. “You heard him –he promised he would come back.”

Shadowheart is the next to try to speak reason with her. The cleric wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her down the dock as Wyll’s arm wraps around her shoulders. “If he truly is trying to ascend –Tav, I do not think –,”

“He’ll come back,” she interrupts, her voice trembling. “He’s going to come back. He has to come back.”

*****

Two weeks later, she is sitting in the Elfsong Tavern, having been given a permanent room and laid claim to a back booth that is generally away from prying eyes.

She does not drink her feelings away, but she does not talk about them either.

It’s easier to think he’s going to come back.

It’s easier to assume that Gale will be successful and he will return to her soon and he will return the crown to Mystra. He knows better. He’s too smart to be so stupid, especially when he knows that the crown is connected to her soul.

He wouldn’t risk her soul being given to Raphael.

He wouldn’t do that to her. 

Astarion slides into the booth beside her, and suddenly Tav realizes it must be dark out. The vampire had disappeared for a week following their fight with the brain, having missed Gale and his unceremonious good-bye. Shadowheart must have filled him in on what happened though, because the last three days, the vampire has been at the tavern with her.

He spends most of the time he is with her talking shit about Gale, and she reprimands him every time. She reminds him that Gale has his reasons, that Gale is not a bad person. Perhaps he’s a little obsessive, or even a little reckless when it comes to his ambition. But he is not bad person.

Astarion seems to disagree.

As does Shadowheart.

Wyll won’t say one way or another if he thinks Gale is a bad person, but the look in his eyes when he looks at Tav suggests that Wyll may agree with her companions.

She understands why he left.

She even accepts why he left.

She just wishes he would have asked her to leave with him.

*****

After two months, it is hard to remain in denial that he is going to return, however.

[ineadhyn]

Fic master post

Cinnamon Sugar

Raphael x Haarlep, completed

When Raphael meets a punk in indecent clothing in the elevator of his office building he has no clue that this encounter will change his life. Haarlep who barely makes a living with Onlyfans gladly jumps on the opportunity to become this hot older man's sugar baby. The hierarchy should be clear and also that it's unthinkable to develop deeper feelings. They both know that - but playing by the rules was never Haarlep's strong suit.

Direct from Hell Logistics

Raphael x Haarlep, completed

Raphael managed to get himself killed by Tav and got sent to our world as a punishment where he is forced to work as a delivery man. His struggles with all things mortal (like toothbrushes) are amplified by Haarlep pretending to be his supervisor.

Its sequel: Direct to Heaven Logistics, ongoing

Copper hearts

Astarion x Tav (original character), completed

Retired bandit king Francys just wanted to spend a relaxed afternoon in Baldur's Gate with his daughter when the Mindflayers attacked. Alone and tadpoled he awakens on an unknown beach. Soon he meets a certain vampire spawn just as experienced in stealing and deceiving as himself.

Despite being unhappy about the other rogue's company, Astarion desperatly seeks protection. Francys however has long given up on caring for anyone but his daughter.

Astarion's backstory:

Dust and Ash - Astarion's time in the tomb and the night he got freed

Thou shalt know that thou art mine - Cazador develops a deep obsession with Astarion and shows it in the worst way possible. Non-con, dead dove, cazstarion.

Circus of the dead - Dark circus au, non-con, cazstarion, dead dove, mind the tags

One shots:

His consort, his god - Ascended Astarion x soon to be god Gale

An Archduke's Bliss - Raphael, Haarlep, named dragonborn Durge threesome

Reading hour - Tav x Archduchess

A special gift - Haarlep has a surprise for Raphael

A song of snow and embers - sapphic foursome, Alfira x Karlach x Lae'zel x Shadowheart

Her body. Her choice - Haarlep x lesbian Tav

At her mercy - Karlach x fem Durge

Nature's most beloved treasure - Halsin x trans masc Tav

Comedy/Crackfic

Mizort(r)ash SFW - Villains complaining about loot goblin Tav

Mizo(r)trash NSFW - same as above, but Mizora and Gortash fuck

The tyrant, the bat and the wardrobe - Gortash and Cazador share a shoe closet

A day in the House of Hope - daily shedules of Korilla, Raphael and Haarlep

Addition: #a day in the life of a bg3 villain should take you to all the shedules I posted on tumblr