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gaysindistress · 8 months ago

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A Fool’s Devotion

disclaimer: shoutout to @malsorie for letting me use her stunning art. The center picture as well as the bottom one are her master pieces. All others were found on Pinterest or Google.

pairings: Minthara x f!reader (could be read as gn since I didn’t use pronouns for reader)

Summary: Only a fool would remain faithful to a coward god.

Warnings: bg3 cannon violence

Word count: 2.7k

Bg3 masterlist

A Fool’s Devotion teaser

Drifting through the stale winds of the Underdark on mushroom spores, I have finally found her.

Sitting in a cold and silent room with her chin resting on her closed fist as she watches the city from the window, I have finally found her.

Singing the songs of both her victims and allies, a reckoning begins in the hallows of slit throats and caverns of forgotten hope but I finally found her.

A paladin who’s lost their oath, willfully broken under the pretenses of another’s twisted lies, she sits with the blood of her mother caked into the creases of her hands. A daughter, once sworn to her house and to her goddess, she no longer is but in her place is a creature of darkness.

A wickedly evil thing lives in the mess that Orin made of her mind.

Darkness from the depths of Mykrul’s personal hell has crept into her heart and warped whatever demented love that Drow society left behind.

A soldier for her people, her house, and her goddess has been lost to the wild of Faerun and now only remains a soldier for herself in the haunting study of House Baenre.

Floating through the open window, I watch her stare at a distant fixated point in the city. Alone she has let her guard fall and with it, the look of desired anguish is pulled taunt on her face. The thought of not remembering her time with the Absolute must eat away at her every moment she is awake and those from her childhood must find her at night given the way her brows are pinched together. Within the red of her eyes, dry tears gather but don’t fall down on her lavender cheeks. Her lips are pulled into a tight line and her jaw is set in a similar fashion.

The veil that hides me from her view falls as my boots make contact with the floor. Like the smoke that dances above a dying campfire, I flicker into existence and come to stand beside the window facing her. Her melancholy comes off of her in waves that lap at my feet but from my spot, I’m a safe distance from her sea of emotions.

“You’re here,” her voice cracks for a moment as she speaks to me but continues to stare past me, “I was beginning to wonder when you would make your appearance.”

“There are rules, Minthara.” She interrupts me by waving me off with the hand her chin had been resting on.

“Rules that even you have to follow,” I continue, “and I tried to warn you about what would happen if you broke them. I told you what the consequences would be if you continued down this path of murder and chased a power you would never hold. I sent you all kinds of signs, omens of what your future would hold should you continue to ignore me.”

I feel those exhausted red eyes cut to me, slicing through the leather of my armor and hoping to find a weak spot beneath. When no vein is ripe for her blade, she chooses a different route to maim me.

“A power I would never hold? You are a fool if you think that I haven’t been successful in my efforts to gain whatever it is that I seek.”

A sigh of defeat escapes my lips. I’d hoped that time would ease her determined mind but from what little she’s said, I can tell that it has only made it more rigid.

“Do the consequences of your actions not matter to you? Have you no sense of self preservation?”

Her hand falls to grip the edge of her chair. White strands of hair are disturbed from her movement but flutter back around her shoulders in moments as angry water laps at my feet. I fear that if I look down I would find a stormy wave ready to overtake me so that I may feel her anguish fully.

“Without it, I would have been dead by my mother’s own hand long ago. Self preservation is what has led me to where I am now. It’s been the only thing that has motivated me when all should be lost, when even YOU deserted me.”

The hole where my heart must have once sat clenches at her words; she believes that I deserted her. When all others have left her and deemed her too maniacal for their liking, she doesn’t care because there has always been one person who remained. When everything was stripped from her and she became a plaything for the Absolute and Orin, it didn’t matter what she suffered because her heart still knew there was one person who cared for her. As Tav decided to save her from that prison and make her a part of their camp, she didn’t seek out the companion of the others because she yearned for one person alone. While standing over Orin’s eviscerated corpse, she felt relief at the reality that this monster was gone but grief that she couldn’t share this feeling with one person in particular. When the Nether brain fell and she returned to her city, she searched for this person in every alleyway and noble house alike. Laying awake at night as she tried to ease the tension that unknown horrors had inflicted on her, she prayed to me and asked me to come back to her.

Can you hear my prayers? She cried one night. Can you hear me? Or are you ignoring me, ust-nor?

My answer feels thick on my tongue but there’s nothing else I can tell her, “I didn’t intend to desert you. I had no choice. I’d been called upon and you know that I cannot leave sooner than necessary.”

She lets out a sinister, mocking chuckle as she adjusts in her chair. She’s taken on a more relaxed pose, slouching with her hands folded on her lap although it’s merely a mask. “You reprimand me for making the wrong choices when you have done the same.”

My whole body bristles at her tone, “Minthara.”

She glowers at me with a menacing stare for a moment before sweeping over my appearance. “I suppose that you’re not here for old time’s sake if you’re wearing your armor. You’ve been called here, haven’t you?”

The armor in question is a complex web of leather and spider silk woven by Lolth herself. The chest plate boasts of Her favoritism from small pieces of Her candles that decorate the neckline and to the intricate spider designs carved into the blessed leather. Trousers and boots crafted in the same fashion fit closely to my legs, both blessed by the Spider Queen to grant me advantages in my line of work. However my gloves are the true testament of Lolth’s favor; a rather unassuming set of black leather gloves that grant me the ability to paralyze any creature that I desire. A soft touch to one’s arm in passing is all it would take for the paralytic to take effect in seconds and remain in effect until I release them. They’ve been the envy of many people but Minthara, in particular, has attempted to persuade me into giving them to her numerous times.

I glance down the gloves and flex my fingers to see the lights around us disappear into their black shade.

I allow my voice to fall into a deeper and authoritative one as I ask, “What is the name that people whisper when they speak of me?”

Her eyes narrow at the change before she answers, “Dobluth.”

The outcast.

I nod my head as I move away from the window at last. My boots make small, almost eerily silent sounds as I approach her and fully look at her. Ragged is not a kind word nor is it one she would ever allow someone to call her but it’s too simple of a word to describe the state that she is in. Now that I’m closer, I can see the true extent of her exhaustion and how it has wreaked havoc on her. No longer is she the vibrant and ever imposing Drow successor but in her place is the rotting corpse of a woman who’s witnessed and inflicted far too much evil. Fatigue has dulled her senses to the point that she barely reacts when I remove my cloak and place it on the small table beside her. Crouching before her, I study her face closely when I ghost my hands up her legs and brush them against her fold ones. I take note of the way her eyes almost flutter closed and she lets out a long sigh when I take them into mine.

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

The simple command seems damn near impossible for me as she takes seconds too long to do so. She looks everywhere but my eyes at first and when I squeeze her hands, she finally meets my gaze.

“I’m the first Dobluth, Minthara. I was neither born nor created; I simply have existed since the dawn of time and will continue to exist when all else has perished. I will live in the hearts and minds of all living creatures and will putrefy with them as they take their last breaths. I will feed on the consequences of wrong doings and ease the pain of those who cry out for deaf gods as I do so. I am the devourer of all sin; I absolve souls of their weight and as a consequence, was named the first outcast, the First Dobluth. I am known by everyone yet no one knows who I am.” I keep eye contact with her as I press my lips to the top of her hands and murmur my sacred devotion to her, “No one knows me for who I am but you, Minthara. You may very well be the only person to have said my name in centuries, to know my face, to hear my voice, to have my interest. You’re the solo person who has known who and what I am but yet still chosen to be mine. My heart may no longer beat but it has found sanctuary within yours. My blood may be solidified within my veins but it flows within yours. My body may feel frigid but against yours, it feels alive once more. I may be fundamentally incapable of being anything other than a devourer but I’m sated with you and finally found fulfillment knowing that I am enough for you.”

I cup her face while keeping her hands firmly clasped in the other. Perhaps against her mind’s will, her heart allows her to lean into my hand and savor the feeling of a gentle touch. A lone tear smears against her skin as my thumb catches it and sweeps it across her cheekbone.

“I heard your prayers and I did everything I could to come back to you because without you, my existence would be a blur of fear and loneliness. There’s no reason other than to cause ourselves pain to dwell on what we wish we could change about the past but I need you to know that I never would’ve left had I known what that Bhaalspawn would do. I would’ve fought harder to stay had I known what horrors you would face by her hand. I would’ve slaughtered every cultist and their Chosen myself had I known what I do now.” Her angry waves crashed into me the moment we touched and began to form a hurricane of her emotions and mine within me as I spoke. As more determined tears fall, the hurricane crumbles into a beast of a different nature. Sorrow replaces that anger and tells her that I am here now and that is all that matters.

“You failed to answer my question; were you called here?” she murmurs.

It catches me off guard when it shouldn’t.

“I was called by you, ust-nor.”

Disgust twists her face at the pet name, causing her nose to wrinkle and brows to furrow. She pulls her face from my grasp, meanwhile against the leather of gloves, I feel the minuscule twitch of her fingers as she keeps herself from shoving me away entirely. Although I vowed to never bring her harm, she knows all too well what lethal consequences could come from irrational actions right now. A single misunderstood movement from her could result in endless paralysis with no way out.

A moment passes as Minthara presumably considers her next move. She leans down, close enough that her breath washes over my face.

“I will tell you what I told the first Oathbreaker bastard who offered me a chance at redemption; I will never be governed by another again. I will not vow my life to a thankless coward. I will not force myself to live by an oath that does not serve me nor prioritize my wellbeing. I’ve spent too long serving those who don’t care if it is me or some other mindless soldier who returns victorious. I’ve given everything I have and been forced to give even more for a cause that is not my own. I refuse to praise a god for simply allowing me to worship them.”

I wish disappointment had been the emotion that greeted me as she spoke. I wish I could say that I didn’t expect her to react this way or to say the words that she did. I wish I didn’t know her as well as I do so that this unfortunate reunion wouldn’t bring me as much misery as it does.

Sighing, I pull my hands back and rock back onto my knees. With my hands resting on my knees, I stare at her. It’s an act of submission, my stance but for her, I would strip my armor and present my weapons with a bare heart if she asked.

“If you do not wish to retake your oath, our Goddess has been generous enough to offer…”

“Fuck your goddess.”

The silence is astounding.

She gets to her feet and is at the window in one fluid motion it seems. Candle lights dance down the expanse of her back, across the pale strands of her hair and over her void like black dress. In her chair remained the forgotten over layer of her dress; a structured piece that was crafted to strike fear into the hearts of her enemies and allies alike. Pointed shoulders and gold edges give her a towering illusion that matches her confidence. The dress she still wears reminds me of what she lovingly called her at-ease clothes. It almost feels like a call back to a time simpler and much happier than now.

Almost.

“The so-called Spider Queen has no place in House Baenre.” Her voice is steady now, devoid of any previous emotion as she takes a pin from the window’s ledge and twists her hair back into place, “Soon she will find that she has no place in Menzoberranzan at all. Her effigies will be destroyed, her books burned, and her memory scrubbed from history. I had hoped that you would see reason one day and join me as I fight to reclaim the city but there is no place for a bleeding heart in war.”

Once more she has become Minthara, Matron of House Baenre.

Somewhere lost beneath the countless sins of others I have absolved lies a naive soul that yearns to take my place by her side as she becomes the Slayer of Lolth but it is that very same goddess that binds me to the floor now. Her envy and anger crackles with a ferocity I’ve seen only a few times through my body and into the marrow of my bones. Her power seethes and tightens around me when I try to push back, to stand, to move at all. It was one thing to allow me to come and speak to Minthara but Lolth is not the generous type.

“You are dismissed, Y/N.”

I catch a brief look of longing before Lolth retakes me, wrapping me in her spidery webs and dragging me back to her clutches.

“Goodbye alurlssrin.”

#minthara baldurs gate 3 #minthara imagine #minthara baenre x tav #minthara baenre x reader #minthara x reader #minthara bg3 #bg3 minthara #minthara baenre #minthara #minthara x tav #nightwarden minthara #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic

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sir-lakealot · 4 months ago

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Muppets Casting Baldur's Gate 3

SORRY FOR THE REALY LONG POST I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS

So I saw @yourleastfavepersonerson 's Kermit as Gale and it made me go into a hardcore dive into who I think would be who in a casting of Muppets as Baldur's Gate 3 characters. And yes I will be posting my reasoning because I have been thinking intensely about this for weeks now.

Now let me say that I think we should go with the general idea that the villains in this BG3 should be primarily humans because it fits the narrative, there will however be a few exceptions that I will lay out below.

MAIN CREW

Narrator- Gonzo

Gonzo fulfilling his dutiful roll as narrator once again for Baldur's Gate 3. I think he would do a fantastic job and a more comedic touch to the lines.

DURGE- Miss Piggy

Who is the muppet that is most likely to go on a murder rampage out of the muppets? Well obviously Miss Piggy and she would be the sassiest about this. She has the chops to beat the shit out of anyone that make her made which makes her the perfect fit. And it makes perfect sense with a romancing Gale as Kermit.

Gale- Kermit

Kermit being fed up with everything fits perfectly with Gale's demeanor with the player characters. I specifically need Kermit for the "stop licking the damn thing" line with the spider because no one can pull it off like Kermit. Also seeing Kermit eat a shoe magical item as the art did is hilarious. Obviously he will be trying to curb the murderous tendencies of his romantic interest DURGE/ Miss Piggy.

Astarion- Pepe

Pepe would use sexual prowess to try and take over a situation so this is why I think he would be Astarion. I also think Pepe could do Astarion's more comedic bits very well. They are just sarcastic asses that don't want anyone to see past the sarcasm.

Wyll- Rolf (only after Myzora comes when he breaks his contract)

Well would start as a human. There would be so many mentions of how attractive he is (because he is and if you don't like Will go away). But after he decides to spare Karlach he would most definetely be turned into a muppet. But when he looks in the mirror he would only see himself as himself but with a muppet nose and horns, to everyone else he is just Rolf. He started this show and he will continue it just like Rolf.

Karlach- Rizzo the Rat

Not going to lie Karlach gives New Yorker vibes to me slightly. I think her jokes and humor are in line with Rizzo. I would also love to see Rizzo to go into rage as a barbarian. He definitely has it in him as we saw in Muppets in Space.

Lae'zel - Animal

Lae and Animal have that instinct to just go wild. I was thinking Animal as Karlach originally but I think that Karlach can have a calmer side to her. So can Lae but I think if the BG3 crew was in a band that she would be the drummer which is why I say Animal is her.

TAV- Scooter

Yes I know we already have a DURGE but let's be for real Scooter is always trying to keep the show together just like TAV. He desperately needs everyone to maybe do a bit of therapy and a little less impulsiveness.

Halsin- Fozzy Bear

Easy. Bear = Halsin. Also Halsin likes ducks and so does Fizzy Bear. Halsin gives will tell dad joke vibes too so that totally fits for Fozzy Bear.

Shadowheart- herself

Our first human throughout the narrative! I think Shadowheart as god's favorite princess would be a human. She would make jokes that she's not like everyone else and that's why she's the fav. Also her having a the darker side a Sharran makes me think she would suit well as a human.

Minthara- herself

As I mentioned I think villains in general would be human adjacent so I think it would make sense that Minthara is not a muppet. I could also see her drop kicking muppets very easily and being happy about it.

Jaheria- herself

I was almost thinking Janice for Jaheria but because she is the mom of the group I think it would be funny for her to be taller than all the muppets and trying to carol them. She's also doesn't have that silly comedic edge.

Minsc- Sweetums

Minsc would be sweets because they are both big dumb and a little sweet. I think Sweetums would be a ranger if he was in dnd so. I do think Boo would be just a hamster though still just to make it easier and funny to see huge Sweetums holding a small giant space hamster.

Villians

Ketheric- Uncle Deadly

One of the few muppet villians I just really think Ketheric and Uncle Deadly have the same creepy vibes. And I had to have two of the Big 3 as muppets just for comedy sake.

Orin- Crazy Henry

If anyone besides Miss Piggy is murder crazy it's Crazy Henry but instead of Orin stabbing she's just blowing up literally everything. They have the same deranged vibe.

Gortash- himself

Like many Muppets medias I think it makes sense for the Big 3 to have one human, and Gortash seems to have it together the most out of the 3 of them. I would also love to see the reception of Miss Piggy/DURGE seeing their ex lover.

Emperor- Constantine

I like playing the Emperor when he is the Dream Guardian as trying to look like someone the player character's would trust. And this time he chose Kermit. And of course it's revealed it's Constantine when you find out he's a mind flayer.

Raphael- himself

Fits the vibe if the devils are just trying to fuck up the Muppets lives.

Myzora- herself

See above same sentiment lol.

Goblins- What nots

There are so many Goblins and I think the What Nots are bendable enough to fit as Goblins. Seeing them under Minthara would also be peak.

ASSORTED- (I will add more eventually this was harder)

Naaber - Bean Bunny

Who is the most hated muppet (at least by other muppets)? Bean Bunny and Naaber is also hated so I think it fits.

Omeleon- Dr. Bunsen Honeydew

I head canon Omeleon and Blurg as being in a queer platonic relationship and that fits Bunsen and Beaker so well.

Blurg- Beaker

Once again Omeleon and Blurg are husbands and so are Bunsen and Beaker.

That's all I have for now! Thank you for reading if you got all the way through! Let me know what you think of my casting and if you have any other different ideas. I do want to figure out where Statler and Waldorf but I haven't placed them just yet.

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zwolfgames · 9 months ago

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Idk, but I think bg3 reader would try to leave the group, if they know about their yandere personalities, lol. Please, your bg3 works are so good. I expect the new one

(So, not a continuation of the last drabble. This is hypothetical for now. Also it deleted my answer the first time :( so this is try two, it may seem a bit rushed. And I got a bit off track, woops.)

Warnings: mentions of yandere stuff I suppose.

Y/N in this au (aka teen tav) really isn't stupid, sure they grew up in a village with just their mother and pulled random spells out of their ass like a true sorcerer, but they're not stupid.

The party started with variable reactions to a minor in the group. Act 1 doesn't showcase a lot of Yan tendencies due to everything still going kind of fine and everyone getting to know each other.

The yandere part really starts in act 2 when they enter the Shadow cursed lands. Unlike the normal region of act 1 are the Shadowlands riddled with danger.

The party quickly gets their wake-up call after things like Kar'niss (who gets his little momemt) and the other bosses and dangers. Katherine Thorm, being a threat, also doesn't help ease the party's feelings.

The group would go from silly to way more protective in act 2. But Y/N can't do anything about that yet. The shadows would eat them alive, or someone else could get them. Better left with unease rather than dead, right?

I've purposefully mentioned Y/N's mother in the drabbles to show the main goal of the reader, which is to return to their mother. This goal is being held back by a party of people who no longer seem intent to part ways with you once this is over.

Sure, Y/N wanted their cool adventure with heroes like Wyll Ravenguard, but staying with them permanently? Haha... no.

So after the wake-up call of act 2, Y/N would take their chances at escape in Baldur Gate. The thing is, though, Y/N isn't from Baldurs Gate. They don't know the alleys like the back of their hand in the same manner that Astarion does. They didn't grow up playing in the secret passageways like Karlach...

This is a dangerous game you're playing. The more you wiggle, the tighter their hold. It's just how it goes with people who have faced enough to lose it.

They handle you in different ways, of course.

Wyll, Gale, and Halsin strike me as the type to have wanted to protect this poor kid from the start, so their resolve just strengthens to unnecessary levels. You wouldn't mind just being carried to bed by a bear man, would you? He knows some good elvish lullabies.

Lae'zel is her own separate category, she's a githyanki, they have very diffrent ways then most folk on faerun. I'm basing her motherly ability on the prologue where she raises the gith egg. She may not be affectionate, but she does not want you out of sight. Expect training.

Karlach and Astarion surprisingly go together here. They don't seem like the parental type. More of an aunt/uncle. Would try and stay your friend. Guiltripping from Karlach that she may or not be aware of herself, and straight up manipulation from Astarion. They both had a bad past. You can stay, right? As a little gift from the gods?

Shadowheart didn't like you from the start, not a fan of kids. Her yandere strikes a lot later. First, she had only been worried about your health as a cleric. After her arc at the end of the shadow cursed lands (freeing Dame Aylin etc) she gets a bit of that parental feeling nonsense too. Though I'd say she shows it the least. You'd be tricked easily into thinking she's the only normal one in the party.

Minthara, I'm unsure if I can find a good way to let her join, but she'd be similar to Lae'zel, just crueler and definitely bot secretive about her want for your stay. If you ask her directly, she'd just plain out and say that if she catches you, you're getting bound.

Jaheira, natural mom, she's got kids, protected the kids. Don't expect her to be sweet, but you're definitely not going out of sight.

Minsc joins in Act 3, so really, he doesn't have the time to get to know you, he's funny, you're funny. Friends. Not that the rest appreciates the time you spent with him. They're scared you're gonna make up a talking animal next.

All in all, Y/N would try and escape. It just isn't very likely to succeed. If you get far... well, there are other beings out there still after you, you know?

Just forget your mom. Aren't they better family now? Your mom didn't teach you spells, did she? Or swordplay? Maybe how to make balms?

Cmon, they're the best option. Stay.

Just an answer lol, hope i didn't make anyone too OOC with just this. Xd.

#yandere x reader #xreader #platonic yandere #bg3 #gn reader #platonic bg3 #yandere #gender neutral reader #platonic yandere baldurs gate 3 #yandere baldurs gate 3

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lady-ephemeral · 4 months ago

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Still not over the Karlach and Minthara dialogue where it’s revealed Minthara killed a previous lover and cradled her while she died. Its so tragic that she had to choose between her lover and following orders, and how her lover likely would’ve done the same had the roles been reversed

And you know what other organization that places following orders and completing contracts above all else and fosters a dog-eat-dog culture that it reminds me of?

The Antivan Crows

And yes, yes I know about Zevran but he defied this, he chooses the warden over the crows. He recognizes that it’s a corrupt and harmful organization. But you know who wouldn’t?

Caterina Dellamorte

I really do wonder if she ever had to kill someone she loved. I know while Crows don’t abandon contracts they can choose them, meaning this situation could be avoidable

But

What if that target had been a powerful person she was involved with? And now she had to choose between her lover and the crows, and she has to come to terms with the fact that the crows would always win out.

Would she stay with them as they died? Would she do it quickly? Or would she leave right after so she wouldn’t have to see the betrayal in their eyes?

She’s such an interesting character, and the fact she survived to be 70 and outlived all of her children (and most of her grandchildren) makes me wonder what she had to do in order to live this long. I don’t know if her killing a lover would happen, but I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility.

And I wonder if this leaked into Illario and Lucanis’ perceptions of love and relationships. God knows those two aren’t normal when it comes to relationships, platonic or romantic

#catarina dellamorte #caterina dellamorte #is it er or ar?#whatever i’m tagging both #illario dellamorte #lucanis dellamorte #dragon age the veilguard #This is me mashing my two current hyperfixations together #bg3 #dragon age lucanis #dragon age illario #I’m playing a game of ‘yes and’ and ‘what if’ with myself

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aurora-darling · 11 months ago

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Just a dream

Zevlor x F!Reader/Tav

i had nothing better to do than to gush about Zevlor and how hard it would be for him to confess his love to anyone

this is also after you kick ass at the goblin camp and keep minthara from being a bully

Slight nsfw warning: Suggestive themes, angst, heartache, trauma.

“I told you not to go!” Zevlor screams at you, spitting and baring his fangs. “ You promised me!” He exclaims again, slamming his fist into the stone desk. You walk forward. “ Zev-” He slams it again and points at you at you. “Don’t.” He says and you can see his bloody knuckles. He sighs and leans over the desk, defeated. His hair hung loosely over his face, his usual neatly tied pony was a mess. “But Halsin is back and the Goblins are gone.” You say, stepping forward. You did it, they were safe. He was safe.

You put yourself at risk. You hear him think, his heart is broken.

“I did it to save everyone. Halsin helped with the camp. Yes, there were close calls but Gale and Astar-” You stop yourself before saying Astarions name. It was too late. Zevlor heard you say it. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows. “That monster was around you this whole time?!” He yells, and you wince. You are afraid to move, his jaw is clenched and he looks at you from under his brows. “Were you going to tell me?” He asks.

Answer me. Do. Not. Lie! He screams in his head.

You look at the ground and bite your lips. He walks around the other side of the desk to stand in front of you. Zevlor sighs and picks your chin up to look at him. His tail wraps around your back to pull you close.

Look at me, baby.

There was that scent again. Musk and leather. Oh, how you swooned over his scent. His touch was always warm. Some nights were humid and heat was the last thing you wanted touching you, yet you crave his. However tonight, there was a chill in his chambers. You needed his body heat. He loved holding you. You are always refreshing to hold. Just like the way he feels when he eats sunberry.

How do you do that? Is it magic? How do you make me tingle all over? Are you healing me? You hear his heart and he’s forgotten to be angry and is now cradling you, swinging you softly. You nuzzle into him slowly, rubbing your face into his shirt, smelling the sweat at his collarbone. He laughs, pressing his lips on the top of your head. You whisper you missed him in your native tongue. A silent blessing for him.

If you got hurt, if I lost you…He sighs, breathing your scent. He rocks you slowly.

You licked your lower lip, leaving your saliva coating it. “Beahat.” You say, looking up at him. He can’t help but stare. Your rosy pink lips look so sweet. The way your teeth bite your lip slowly. The way your soft tongue runs across it. Gods, did you have to smile at him like that? Before he can stop himself he instantly sees Astarion over you in his mind. Sucking your lifeblood. You. His hands, mouth, teeth. His fucking hands. He wanted to flay him alive.

Zevlor pulls away to place his hand on his hip, the other rubbing his neck. He stands there silently, his tail flicking the ground hard before wrapping around his leg. “Your turn.” He stops and turns to look at you for your explanation. His loving expression is gone, he’s angry.

“ I needed you to stay here.” You say, your bottom lip quivering. You needed everyone you could get that would help. You would have sold your immortal soul if it meant saving your man. “ Minthara-” You start to say, looking at him. “ We needed to split up the camp and send Minthara on a death sentence. Here.” You say. His head hangs low and he doesn’t respond to you. His thoughts and feelings are lost to you. “I knew you could fight her off until we arrived. You’re so strong and I can always rely on you. I don’t have to worry about you doing the right thing-” You lower your gaze to the stone floor “I’m sorry, Zevlor. I just needed Astarion’s hel-” Zevlor’s lips cut you off and pressed harshly onto yours.

Don’t say his name in my presence ever again. He thinks, groaning into your mouth.

Zevlors eyes roll back as he tastes your pretty mouth. He shifts his head from side to side, keeping your kiss as much as he can. He breathes you in, your knees weaken and he pulls you up to him. You push him away to breathe and he lunges to kiss and devour your neck. He can see the white scars from where Astarion feasted on your nape. He stops and stays frozen, breathing deeply. “Zev?” You ask, frozen and unsure if you should move. Before you can say anything else he swoops you up in his arms. He holds you tightly, slowly carrying you to his bedroll, stopping a few steps to kiss you. He says nothing and lays you down on his bed.

You try to read his thoughts but hear nothing. You feel drunk feeling the furs under you, how much they smelt like him. You squirm when he kisses your ear, his tongue taking in your lobe. His fangs raked over it. You squirm again, and this time, his tail wraps around your waist to keep you still. He leans over you, watching you in excitement. He’s never had a lover act like this. No one had ever responded this way. You can see his chest rise and fall, his large tunic exposing his infernal chest. You smile at how sweet he is. He may be a paladin, a tough commander, and a Hellrider. But to you, he’s Zevlor, the man you love. He looks over you, taking you in under the candlelight. He can’t believe you’re in his bed under him. Your gold curls were loose around you like a halo. He looked at your blue eyes, and he couldn't help but smile. They were so blue even in this low light. He then looks to your pink lips and, at last, his favorite; the brown freckles on your shoulders. “ Zevlor.” You say your hands above your head. He can see your nipples harden through your dress. He clears his throat and adverts his gaze, looking at the floor.

Gods… you’ll ruin me, young lady.

He lowers his head, you can see his horns. There were more scars than you realized, some parts were broken or chipped. You thought they were beautiful. He is beautiful. You reach your hand up and touch them. You hear Zevlors tail whip in excitement. He groans and you can’t take your hand off his horn. Your fingers hold on tighter and tighter, stroking slowly.

“ I have to tell you.” He says, his breath heavy. “ Before this goes any further.” He breathes deeply and looks around for his gold pouch. “ I don’t- I don’t have any-anything to give you.” He admits, gulping hard. “ I can promise you nothing. I am old and-” He laughs, fumbling over his words. “ What I am trying to say is- “ He looks up at you, his golden-flammed eyes covered in tears. “ I can’t bring myself to tell you to be with another but I know I am not enough.“ He says as tears fall down his cheeks. You squeeze his hand and lean forward to kiss him. He shakes his head but doesn’t push you away. “ No, Aria. Listen, please.” He says kissing you back softly. “ Anyone but him. Why him?” He pleads with you as you taste him. “There’s no one but you.” You say, taking a bite out of his lip but he doesn’t listen. He stops kissing you and you lay back looking into his eyes. Zevlor cannot be convinced otherwise. Of course there are others, there has to be. What idiot would not want to be with you? He saw the effect you had on others. The way people almost broke their neck looking at you. The way they laughed when you ran past them and to him. He could practically hear what they were thinking.

She’s interested in him?

No, seriously?

Right? I know, He’s a joke of a paladin.

He’s a commander of a pathetic party.

She’s a hero, our savoiur, a Goddess. She’s too pretty for him.

Gross, he has scars all over. His ears are too long. His chin too.

What is with his hair?

He gets tired so easy, look at him fight. See, he just lost to Zorru. How pathetic. Who looses like that?

I bet he can’t get it up for her. I could have her begging for more if I fuck her.

How he wanted to have the confidence to stand next to you, his arm around you. Your Hellrider. Your courageous commander. Courage. It was why he was proud to be a Hellion. His cavalry represented the courage to ride into Hell itself to protect the innocent and defend the weak. He took his oath seriously. It was who he was, his life, his purpose.

You brush his hair off his face and push it behind his red pointed ears. He shivers and looks down at your body. He isn’t looking at you with lust but heartache. You tilt your head to the side and bring both of your hands to the sides of his face. You lean up to kiss him, to bring his attention out of his head and back to you.

You’ll be the death of me. His heart pleads. You hold his face in your hands, his horns casting shadows over your hair. The perfect scene of an Angel and her Devil, he thought.

“ Hey there.” You say, your eyes catching his. “Did you know?” You whisper, your thumb caressing his cheek. “That your eyes are my favorite color?” He whimpers, biting his bottom lip. He has no words. He can’t remember when, if ever, someone spoke to him like this. ��Where do you go when I can’t reach you?” You ask, still rubbing your thumbs across his face. Zevlor sighs, closing his eyes and moving his lips to kiss the inside of your palm. “I-” He grips the fur under you. He is scared to admit the truth. He couldn’t face you looking at him with pity, with disgust. The way others look at him, as if being born a tiefling is below being a full-blooded Devil. Half man, half Devil. A reminder to all races that no matter how good you tried to be, there was no changing your blood. If he was still a Hellrider commander in Elturel he would at least have that.

He could see it in his dreams. He would ride proud in his white and scarlet armor, from being away for weeks. Citizens in Elturel are happy for their soldiers to return. There is a parade and music. He crosses the moat and heads toward you. His soldiers are envious of a man decades older, able to pull a Fairy like you. There you are, you had climbed on top of a statue for a better look. He smiles at his little thrill-seeker. He dismounts his horse and notices you are in your periwinkle gown, your gold hair worn in a loose braid. You wore a lilac and baby's breath crown on your head. He would stop and stand still. This is his favorite part. He watches as you climb down in a rush, your face is flushed. You say his name and run towards him. The way the gown hugs your cleavage has him gripping the hilt of his sword. How it fell off your shoulders, exposing them to the sun. His favorite part of you will always be your shoulders. Gods, he loves them. The light brown freckles that glittered in the sunlight. He knew, that you knew, he adores your shoulders. He loved that you cared what he liked. He had been gone from you for far too long. You push your way through the crowd, your small height among tieflings is adorable. You’re so polite. His heart fills when he sees you gasp and apologize for bumping anyone. You can move a little faster now and he mouths the words 'slow down.' He smiles, knowing you won't.

Don’t run, baby girl.

He told you he would return. How were you able to make your gown look so iridescent? You grab fistfuls of your gown, kick your heels off, and run to him. Gods know he loves seeing you barefoot. He smiles and chuckles at you.

My world.

“Beahat.” You say, reaching him, slightly out of breath. He smiles down at you and picks you up, swirling you around. He loved hearing you speak in your native tongue. “ Zevlor, Beahat, I’m getting dizzy!” You say but giggle, holding onto him tight. He stops and leans his forehead on yours. “ I love you, Zevlor.”

Your hero had returned.

#zevlor #zevlor x reader #zevlor bg3 #brainrot #zevlor love #zevlor smut #this man has me in a chokehold

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honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 1 year ago

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Can i ask for the Bg3 main companions (and maybe halsin and minthara as well??) comforting a really depressed reader? like they're not eating or sleeping well? could use some comfort. thank u 💕💕

BG3 Characters Comforting A Severely Depressed Reader

Please consider buying me a coffee, or tipping me via my Kofi, if you like my work! ♡♡♡

A/N: Here ya go! Have some extremely self-indulgent writing here. I’ve been having a really hard time health-wise lately and it’s been making my depression worse, so I feel ya. Depression sucks y’all.

TW: Depression, Thoughts of Suicide, Mentions of Self-Harm

Astarion:

Listen up honey, baby boy could've written the book on depression, okay?

He’s extremely understanding, especially if your depression manifests as anger or irritability. The gods know how angry he can get thinking about how he was abused and subjected to Cazador’s torture for so long.

Astarion knows depression is more than a feeling of sadness- it’s a raging storm of emotions and behaviors that comes from a brain working in overdrive to survive.

He’ll do little things for you, like leaving you a bouquet of freshly picked flowers or a vial of a new perfume for you to try; just a lot of simple things to remind you how he cares about you, even if you don’t always feel like caring for yourself.

He will help you bathe and/or dress on days those tasks feel overwhelming. He especially loves it when you agree to dress in something a little more fancy. He enjoys getting to shower you with extra compliments as well as seeing the cute half-smiles you give when one of said compliments finally reaches you.

If you’re self-harming, he will take it upon himself to steal any and all pointy things from your tent. Nope, you don’t need them, so hand them over, please. He gets why you feel an urge to do such things, but he asks you to please not to. He suggests letting him feed on you if you absolutely must scratch that itch, so to speak. That way, he can sort of supervise it, and ensure you’re properly cared for after. Plus, it doesn’t hurt that it’s a benefit for him. He thanks you profusely, hoping that one day you’ll stop seeing the act as a punishment and instead see it as an intimate gift, because to him, that’s what you are: a gift.

You are the most important person in his life. Your blood, your joy, your life, your everything is worth more than anyone in the world has to offer. Astarion doesn’t want you to think for a second that it’s something you should throw away, or feel the world would be better off without.

He knows it’s hard. Gods, does he know. And if you had asked him months ago if life were worth living, he might have said ‘no’. But now, he’s met you. And since he’s met you, he’s started seeing the wonder in things again. The beauty.

You are Astarion’s sunshine, his reason to keep going. Please, he asks, let him be your reason. Let him carry your weight when you are unable. Darling, he would steal the moon for you if you let him… don't you ever doubt that.

✧

Gale:

Gale has also experienced depression. After being discarded by Mystra, and then cursed with the orb, he thought life wasn’t worth living anymore. He locked himself away in his tower in Water Deep, refusing to speak to anyone but his tressym, Tara.

He’s understanding when you confess how you feel but ultimately hurt as if your pain were also his own. He cares for you so much. And he thinks it’s such a shame someone so wonderful and bright feels as awful as you do. It’s unfair. And he wishes so much to change it, even though he knows he alone cannot.

He will do his best to look after you though. He’ll encourage you to reach into The Weave with him, to feel the force of magic flow through your veins. It invigorates him and grounds him at the same time. He hopes it does similarly for you.

Gale knows depression makes it feel like caring for yourself is a losing battle, one you simply cannot win, so why bother trying? Which is why he takes it upon himself to do the more basic ‘battles’ for you. He’ll cook and clean, and make sure you’re getting plenty of fluids and rest. It’s not up for debate. He’ll even sic Tara on you if he has to. You will do what’s necessary to heal. He can’t stand seeing you in pain. He just wants you to feel better, and as soon as possible.

If you’re self-harming, he’s saddened and confused. He doesn’t quite understand that it’s not reflective of a deficit on his part. He wonders why his love isn’t enough for you to understand how precious you are. You’ll have to explain to him, how even though you know he loves you, your brain doesn’t let the feeling of being loved in. You explain how you hurt so much on the inside… sometimes it’s just easier to hurt on the outside too.

Once he understands though, he does his best to not take your feelings or self-harming personally. He wants you to be stable on your terms, not only stable with him at your side. Gale knows firsthand that overreliance on a partner often leads to heartbreak further down the road. He’ll just have to become confident enough in your relationship to give you the space you need.

He’ll use healing magic to cover and fix any self-harm cuts or scars. As well as spells to help you sleep at night if you suffer from insomnia. Just say the word, and he’ll find the spell that eases your particular discomforts. Or ask for a simple night of cuddles under the stars. He’s more than happy to provide that too.

Gale loves you, quite possibly more than words could ever hope to convey. Your happiness, in some ways, is an additional extension of his own. He will do everything in his power to make you smile. Just seeing you happy is more than enough for him.

✧

Wyll:

Wyll is a tragic hero in every sense of the word. He knows the lows of depression well.

He sacrificed his freedom to save Baldur’s Gate, and in return, he was disowned by his father, and forced into exile, all while having to serve a demon. He’s spent years mentally beating himself up for that sacrifice, and mentally chiding himself for ever having agreed to Mizora’s deal in the first place. On more than one occasion, he’s found himself wishing he could go back in time and choose differently. It’s an awful feeling to get stuck in, and he wants more than anything, for you to be free of such imprisoning feelings.

He’ll constantly remind you of all of your accomplishments: even the littlest ones- like if you’ve made your bed roll, or if you ate that day, or if you went for a walk, or made a successful conversation with a stranger.

He keeps track of your milestones but also keeps an eye out for any warning signs. He knows you are your own person and that he cannot stop you from doing something, not forever anyway. But he asks that you come to him instead of doing things that put yourself at risk. Please. The two of you can talk it out, or maybe he can show you a few moves with a sword to get that frustration and manic energy out. Whatever you wish, even if it’s just spending quiet time together, he’ll do it, if it means you don’t end up harming yourself.

He’s extra protective of you, especially whenever devils like Mizora or Raphael show up. He knows such creatures prey on vulnerability, and he’ll be damned before they ever take advantage of you. If any devil so much as even brings up the whispers of horrible things you think about yourself, he will dispatch them, immediately. He won’t hesitate for a second. How dare such vile creatures speak to you, an incredible and kind person, in such a way? He won’t stand for it.

He also tries to cheer you up and remind you how much you’re loved using the occasional grand romantic gesture. What can he say? He’s an old-fashioned romantic at heart. A candlelight dinner, a nice night by the fire in a private room at an inn… or even an evening of dancing under the stars; no gesture is too grand or too extravagant for the love of his life.

You are beyond special to him. You are his future. In a way, he sees you as a gift from the Gods, proof that in the end, good deeds do pay out. Can’t you see? You’re his cherished partner. Wyll would do it all over again, exactly the same, even his deal with Mizora, so long as he ends up with you at his side.

You brought a sense of family, pride, security, and love back into Wyll’s life. Let him do what he can to bring that back into yours.

✧

Karlach:

Karlach may be a golden retriever in tiefling form, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what it means to be sad. She was betrayed by Gortash, her mentor, and sold to Zariel who quite literally ripped Karlach’s heart out of her chest. There was a time when she didn’t think her heart would ever beat again, now that her physical one was taken. But she did what she had to, and she found a purpose amidst her betrayal using the skills she had to bide her time until she could escape.

For Karlach, she’s no longer in a depressive state. She’s overjoyed at the amount of freedom she’s gained- at the feel of fresh air and actual sunshine on her face. She’s so in love with life. She forgot what it was to live joyfully, and now that she’s remembered, she doesn’t ever want it to stop.

She knows you don’t feel up for it, she gets it. But she won’t stop dragging you to events and new places. She knows it takes time for someone to go through an episode, or episodes, of feeling like shit. She’ll gladly wait them out with you. But she won’t let you take those episodes lying down. She’s going to do what she can to put some joy into your life, whether you want it or not.

Karlach will constantly remind you of how lucky she is to have you. She tells you rather bluntly that she adores you, no characteristic or quirk is safe from her myriad of compliments and gushing. She also makes a point to talk you up to the others, especially after you’ve been self-deprecating lately. She makes it clear just how incredible you are. Everyone should know, especially you.

She will physically restrain you before she lets you self-harm. Although she has to be careful not to burn you accidentally herself, she much prefers holding you through a bout as opposed to asking you to stop and simply hoping for the best. She cares so much for you, she couldn’t chance it. The thought of you hurting yourself when she’s right next door is too much, she couldn't bear it. She’d feel awful like she failed you in some way.

She reminds you how much you do for everyone else, even when you don’t realize it. How you play with Scratch and the Owlbear Cub. How you help Gale find magical objects. Or how you always point out any flowers or plant life within Baldur’s Gate to Halsin to remind him of home. Karlach knows you think of everyone- you’re always putting them first. She wants you to know it’s okay if you have to pull back to put yourself first, to take care of your mental and physical health. It’s not selfish, it’s not rude. You’re doing what you need to do in order to survive. Who amongst you can’t say the same?

She ropes everyone in when it comes to looking after you. They all better be nice or they can answer to her and her big smoldering muscles. And speaking of big flaming muscles…

She knows she can’t beat the depression for you, but Karlach’ll be damned if you think you gotta go it alone. Even when you don’t feel up for it, Karlach will be right there, fighting by your side.

✧

La’zel:

La’zel is not familiar with the idea of depression. Githyanki come from a society where any weakness, physical or mental, is frowned upon. It is considered a personal failure to let yourself fall victim to your emotions. As a result, La’zel is often unaware of how she feels about things.

La’zel may not be the affectionate partner, but she knows enough about herself to understand she likes you and admires you greatly. This makes your illness all the more confusing to her. She doesn’t understand how someone like you, someone she views as strong and capable could be all that sad on the inside. Perhaps you are mistaken? La’zel reminds you of how impressive she finds you, assuming that will be enough to snap you out of it. (It isn’t, of course.)

You’ll have to sit her down and explain what depression is; how it doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with how capable someone is. It’s something that happens when the brain doesn’t work quite right, you can’t get the perspective everyone else has. La’zel asks if this is related to the parasite. In which case, it’s just another reason to defeat the Absolute. Once you make it clear, it has nothing to do with the parasite, she seems to accept the idea with less hostility.

La’zel recognizes this ‘depression’ as an opponent of yours. And of course, as your partner, she insists on working to defeat it with you. She’ll ask you to join her in her workouts, insisting that you spar with her only to secretly go easy on you, and let you win. She wants that boost to your ego to remind you just how proficient you are. To her, a victory is one of the highest compliments, and she wants you to feel complimented.

You are her partner, her zhak vo'n'fynh duj, her source of joy. She thinks the world of you. Even though she is not familiar with your culture or customs, she makes more of an effort to understand them, in hopes they will reveal secret knowledge about this ‘depression’ to her. She wants to know everything there is to know about this enemy. The more knowledge she has, the better she feels equipped to aid you in the fight.

If you’re self-harming, she may not notice right away. However, her suspicions arise when you are ashamed of what she assumed were battle scars. La’zel will not hesitate to pin you down if she catches you hurting yourself and holding you close until the urges have passed. She won’t take away any of your weaponry- she knows how important it is. But she will keep a close watch, and invite you away from your tent and your tools when she senses the urge to self-harm within you is great.

Githyanki do not beg. They are a strong, proud species. So it’s of the utmost shock when La’zel gets on her knees before you, taking one of your hands in between hers. She confesses how much she cares for you. And begs you, to please, please, continue to fight the good fight for her. You are her anchor to this world, to a life beyond orders and discipline, you’ve opened up her world to joy and acceptance. Please don’t leave her alone in it. She may be a proficient fighter, but her heart just couldn’t bear that.

✧

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart may not remember much of her past before Shar, but she does know one thing for certain, and that’s how she feels for you. In the past, she’s found herself overcome by feelings of sadness and anger, so she’s no stranger to having to live with such unpleasant emotions. She’s also no stranger to living with chronic pain, her hand always existing as a constant reminder of what Shar took from her. And despite happy reminders and the sun always shining the next day, Shadowheart knows there is nothing that can change that. Until Shar grows bored, living with pain is something she will be forced to endure.

Having to live with that pain has made Shadowheart incredibly understanding when it comes to the ups and downs of your mood swings caused by depression. She knows the feeling of ‘it's not fair!’ all too well, and will never chastise you or shush you for bringing it up. It isn’t fair how some people go through like okay and other people have suffering planted inside them. It’s life, but it’s not fair, and you don’t have to pretend it is.

Shadowheart will always offer to help you with changing out of your clothes/armor into more suitable night attire. She has a routine every night that helps her decompress, and she’d love to share it with you.

On the days you feel nothing matters, like you can’t even get out of bed, don’t worry, she’ll be right there, outside of your tent, asking if there’s anything she can fetch you if there’s anything you need. And if you have no use for any physical items or healing spells, she’s more than happy to just sit with you, silently reading a book as you lay on your bedroll. It’s comforting, and reassuring, that you don’t have to say or do anything to be able to enjoy each other’s presence. It takes some pressure off of having a relationship.

If she ever finds you’ve been self-harming, Shadowheart will feel angry. Then hurt. Then disappointed. Then hurt again. She wishes you wouldn’t but at the same time, she understands why you would do something like that. A part of her might feel angry that here she is, forced to live with the pain she didn’t ask for, while you go around giving yourself pain necessarily, but given time, she’ll learn to compartmentalize that train of thought. Your self-harming isn’t about her, she knows that.

She will of course, always heal your wounds, unless you persistently ask her not to. In which case, she might relent, but she still insists on checking them to see how they’re healing naturally and at the first sign of infection or spreading, she will use her healing spells as a cleric to deal with them- no ifs ands or butts.

Shadowheart just wants to be able to make up for lost time with you. She wants a life with you beyond the horrors and the trials of the Absolute, beyond the misery of Shar. She wants the two of you happily living in a modest home, maybe somewhere with animals nearby. She wants you and her parents to get along. She wants your friends to visit often. But most of all, she wants you to be at peace, to be content with the life in front of you. It may take some time, but she swears one day, the two of you will get there. You may never be overly happy, but you will have found tenderness in each other.

✧

Halsin:

Halsin is such a sweetheart, but despite his calm demeanor, he has more than his fair share of demons lurking just beneath the surface. Halsin’s lived a long life. He knows what it feels like to get stuck in a rut, and he knows the hopelessness that often comes with fighting an uphill battle. The Shadow Curse was once just a whispered threat before it grew concrete enough to take up much of Halsin’s life. Forced to always take care of others, and forced to put the greater good before himself, Halsin is no stranger to the slow silent depressive undercurrent that often wades into the stream of your life. Unfortunately, as an archdruid and leader of Emerald Grove, Halsin has had to endure such melancholy alone. As such, he wishes you never feel you have to shoulder your burdens alone.

There is a chance, thanks to the degree of his focus and admiration, that you won’t need to tell him of your feelings, that he will sense them before you do. Halsin won’t pry incessantly, but he does make it known that feeling low is nothing to be ashamed of and that he is always willing to lend an ear.

On the days you can not take care of yourself, Halsin won’t complain in the slightest. He’ll simply aid you in doing whatever needs to be done. He’ll carry you to the river to bathe just as he carries you to the table to eat. He’s so gentle with you, his large hands treat you as if you were made of glass as if he’s almost afraid to touch you.

And don’t worry about any emotional outbursts you might have, be it crying or yelling, or a quick succession of both, Halsin does his best not to take it personally. There is very little you could do or say, aside from causing great harm to another living thing, that he would not understand and forgive.

If you self-harm, he doesn’t react with anger. He does his best to look neutral although he is heartbroken on the inside. He sees you as his salvation, and to see his salvation do such a thing pains him so.

If you’re having trouble sleeping, or get frequent aches, he’ll use healing spells or old-fashioned massages to alleviate some of your pain. He’s quite fond of anything that lets him touch you as he cares for you, be it massages, bathing, braiding your hair, or simply holding you close as you sleep atop his broad chest.

If it’s too much, Halsin will understand your desire for space, and grant you it, he won’t force it on you. But for Halsin, that touch is a reminder you’re still here, that he hasn’t lost you yet, just as he has lost everyone he has ever loved previously.

He always encourages you in your self-care, be it eating or sleeping. He will offer gentle reminders throughout the day, and bring you food should he notice you haven't eaten in a while. If he could physically take on your burdens for you, he would. If it meant your happiness, Halsin would gladly suffer.

You showed him what it meant to live again. You rescued him from his depressive enemy- from the loneliness of the Shadow Curse. He sees it as his duty to do all he can to rescue you from yours.

Halsin knows he cannot ‘save you’ from your feelings. But that doesn’t mean he’ll ever stop trying. He cares so deeply for you. Trust that even though his heart may wander, he will always find his way back to you. No one else, not even your depression is enough to keep him away.

✧

Minthara:

Minthara lives in a state of suspended fear, hidden deep down inside. The Underdark is a cutthroat place, full of betrayal and uprising. There is no such thing as ‘love’ or ‘friendship’- only strength and temporary alliances. But then again, that was before she was infected with the parasite, that was before she met you.

Now that’s grown close to you, now that she realizes the strengths of sharing vulnerability with the one you love, she refuses to live without it. You are her first true love. She will not settle for less. And she refuses to go through the rest of her life without you, readily at her side.

She may not be the kindest when it comes to questioning why you haven't been as eager as usual. But once you explain your situation, Minthara comes to regard your condition with respectful contemplation. She tries to put herself in your shoes, so to speak, before making any future remarks. It is not easy for her, but she does her best. You will have to remind her often and explain each symptom of your depression separately.

Minthara discovers through your openness, that she has had such symptoms as well. The only difference between her and you is that she was taught to swallow such feelings, to never let them surface. It makes her all the more tender in the way she interacts with you. And she asks for your continued tenderness in return.

The two of you can express your darkest thoughts, and ruminations much more freely because of that. You know Minthara will not hold those thoughts against you, just as you will not hold hers against her.

If she finds you’ve been self-harming, she asks to watch the next time. It might strike you as an odd request, but it helps twofold: 1) It reminds you you’re not alone at such a time of deep pain, and 2) It makes you feel self-conscious, bringing you out of that self-harm spiral. It’s much harder to keep your blinders on when the person you love most is sitting right next to you. It empowers you to push such urges away, and instead spend time in the presence of the one you love, knowing she doesn’t think any less of you, and that you don’t have to hide any component of your suffering.

Minthara may be cold to others, and she is not one to languish in her depressed feelings, but she will tolerate sitting with you in yours. If having instances of momentary vulnerability will help you heal and make you stronger in the long run, Minthara is more than willing to ride those instances out with you.

✧

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misscryptidart · 3 months ago

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Re-Organised my BG3 screenshots and wanted to dump the funnier ones here (Below Cut) because I am the kinda of OC parent who will take a billion pictures of their beloved children and force a stranger to sit in polite silence in line at the grocery store as I info-dump on why they are so special.

Ashiok - Resist DURGE - Death Cleric of Kelemvor (She/Her)

"Just because someone's dead doesn't mean we can't annoy them"

Up until Act 3, she assumed that her "Godly Parent" was Kelemvor and he was just being kinda weird with the whole murder-vibes

"This is my wife Shadowheart, her girlfriends Dame Aylin and Isobel, our boyfriend Halsin, my boyfriend The Emperor, my ex-Gortash-"

Fortuna - TAV - Urchin - Bronze Dragon Sorcerer (She/Her)

The Little Mermaid if Ariel could breath lightning

She's had a MASSIVE crush on the Blade of Frontiers for years. Number 1 fangirl. "TIMOTHEE CHAMALET CALL ME BY YOUR NAME" ass.

1 of 2 campaigns where she spared Minthara (Ashiok did as well) because she's a feminist and supports Women's Rights and Women's Wrongs

Leviathan - Resist DURGE - Lore Bard (He/Him)

My special guy, my funny little Bhaal-Spawn turned Faerun's biggest sweetheart.

His ass is not built right. White Dragon-Born but breathes Poison, dark / grimey aesthetic but will cry if you ask him to squash a bug, is very good at killing (first in this campaign to get a penta-kill) but fucking HATES doing it.

One of the few DURGES / TAVS I've played where he eagerly and honestly wanted to start a family. He picked his and Gale's kids names out by the time they got to the Emerald Grove.

Viktor Soleiné - TAV - Folk Hero - Vengence Paladin of Helm (He/Him)

Religious Traumaaaaaaaaaaa

Baldur's Gate version of Batman. Shows up, stops the BBEG, scowls, then leaves without another word. It's a 50 / 50 shot if he's gonna kill the baddies or start making out with them.

"Astarion, baby, love of my life. You have GOT to stop telling me about your plans for Ascension, my boss God will make me arrest you."

Void - Resist DURGE - Fae Warlock of Oberon (They /Them)

Objectively my funniest / more "evil" DURGE; built them with the mindset of "Someone who is super okay with literally every crime EXCEPT murder".

Pre - Tadpole they were a pretty normal looking Blue Dragonborn but after Orin's attack, Oberon wandered into the Mindflayer colony to find out what was happening to his pixies, took one look at this creature, said "Finder's Keepers", and the result was a florescent dinosaur.

The only DURGE to turn half-Illithid, and that's only because the consequences of such an action was outweighed by how in character it was for them to "Eat the Tadpole"

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #durge #tav #bg3 screenshots #durge x shadowheart #durge x gale #durge x astarion #tav x wyll #tav x astarion

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naughtybg3confessions · 1 year ago

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I've rediscovering myself lately and I'm going through my dom era. I've been making good headway (heh head) with the whole domming shebang, but here's the issue: Minthara. Minthara is making me subbier. I can't stop thinking about her making me kneel for her. I genuinely could never argue against her. Yes ma'am! As you say ma'am! Oh I should shut up? Eating your pussy for 2 hours straight? As you wish, ma'am! Gods that woman does some serious shit to my brain.

#dirty confessions #minthara #screenshot donor: @liocreates #ladies night #queue'd

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blackjackkent · 5 months ago

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So... I'm running on the assumption that Rakha was able to witness that whole interaction between Gale and Mystra via Tadpole TV, because Gale immediately bursts into a discussion about it once he's back.

"The Karsite Weave... I had no idea. Do you realize what this means?"

Rakha isn't sure she does, in truth. She followed some of what Mystra said, but not all of it, and Gale's increasing agitation muddied the clarity of the tadpole connection. She got the gist for the most part, though - the orb Gale carries is not part of the magic that Rakha is familiar with, not part of the fabric of the Weave she communes with.

Gale's eyes are wide, energized, frantic with anxiety.

"The orb is no stray piece of ordinary magic," he goes on urgently. "It is something entirely different - the nascent form of a new divine power."

He draws a breath, and then his expression hardens with deliberate focus.

"Of course I couldn't control it. I was mortal. But once I reforge the crown... the power of a god will be mine to command. The orb will answer to me."

Rakha juts out her jaw thoughtfully. There are new developments here. The fact that Gale's orb and the power he seeks to wield has no connection to the existing magic that she knows is more unsettling than she might have expected.

(A/N: Interesting. I had to sit and think about this for a little while and look at the different dialogue options. Rakha is definitely way more unsettled by this discussing it now than she was when they discussed it in Sorcerous Sundries' basement, and I'm trying to identify exactly why.

I think there are a couple of reasons.

1) She was considering the idea of toppling Mystra as a question of taking more control of the existing Weave, the one she values, the one she just decided two posts ago is the centerpiece of her identity now that her Dark Urge is gone. Gale is now, instead, describing making use of a completely different magical framework, one Rakha has no connection to and which, apparently, EATS the Weave by nature.

2) Back at Sorcerous Sundries, Rakha felt that Gale framed the discussion in terms of bringing mortals (as a whole) and gods (as a whole) onto more of an equivalent level. However, he is now talking very specifically about elevating himself, with a sudden glint in his eye that reminds her uncomfortably of Orin's hunger to become Bhaal's chosen, or Minthara's eagerness to acquire power at any cost.

I can't decide how I feel about the fact that Rakha has started to do a lot of hard left turns out of her previous beliefs (ref. her turning on the Emperor recently); I don't want her to seem like she's acting massively out of character or has no convictions, but also she has had a MASSIVE shakeup of her world and there are a lot of perspective-altering revelations that come out in this act.

Anyway TLDR - she's not as on board with this idea as she thought she was.)

"You had *no* idea about the orb's true nature?" she asks carefully after a short pause, watching his expression carefully.

Gale shrugs. "I knew it was powerful, of course, but I could hardly analyze something trapped within my own body." He spreads his hands with the air of a professor giving a lecture. "Let me assure you - the Karsite Weave has no more inherent evil to it than a - a child in the womb, or an axe half-forged on the blacksmith's anvil. It is a tool, ready to be shaped by its wielder. By me. And you know me to be someone of reasonably sound moral judgement, don't you?"

Rakha thinks that over. She and Gale are not terribly close, but he has taught her a great deal, about the Weave and its power and about her own abilities. Certainly she has always trusted his opinions about magic in the past. And yet... and yet...

Mystra's revelation has, for better or worse, shaken her. The orb in his chest, the powers he seeks to wield, wish to consume hers, whether Gale himself does or not. "Your 'good intentions' nearly detonated the Karsite Weave when you found it,"(*) she points out bluntly.

"But they didn't," Gale insists vehemently. "I always thought it was a miracle that I survived - but I'm starting to wonder if there was more to it. What if it chose me?"

(A/N: Oh dear, Gale. D: )

Rakha blinks. "You think this is your destiny?" she asks, bemused.

"How can I not?" Gale says, nodding vigorously. "Think about it - the Crown of Karsus, the Netherstones, the Karsite Weave, no more than a tadpole's breadth from being reunited."

His eyes flare with sudden manic intensity. "This is my chance to get back everything that was taken from me. Everything Mystra denied me. And once I have it, I can forge a better world. Be a better god."

His gaze locks with Rakha's - pleading, demanding. "I want you to help me."

Rakha says nothing for a long moment. Her neck is prickling, the Weave dancing along her skin as if it feels the threat to its essence. This feels as if it has all, very abruptly, slipped out of her control, and she does not like the look on Gale's face, or the words he has chosen. It all puts her unsettlingly in mind of Bhaal's face in a puddle of blood, reaching out and demanding that she accept his gift and become greater.

But in the past, when she has not known what to do... it is her friends' judgment that she has turned to, Gale's included.

"This is your decision to make, Gale," she mutters hoarsely. "Not mine."

Gale brightens, his shoulders relaxing, though his fingers continue to twitch nervously against his robe. "Well then," he says hastily, "what more is there to discuss? All we need to do is stay focused on the task at hand - defeating that elder brain. After that, you can leave the rest to me."

-----

(*) In-game line: 'Are you forgetting how you came into possession of the Karsite Weave? Your 'good intentions' could have detonated it.' Bit more roundabout than Rakha would be.

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #lol okay this is even messier than i originally anticipated XD #i've never tried encouraging gale towards the crown before and he gets REAL intense about it huh

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mithraeris · 2 years ago

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Minthara on her recruitment to the cult of The Absolute

CW: brainwashing, violence, murder, trauma Minthara (reflecting on her first encounter with the cult of the Absolute): A true soul came to my city preaching a message of togetherness, accompanied by two novices. Menzoberranzen is not fertile ground for such messages. I killed them, and hanged their bodies in my garden. Player (option 1): Decorative corpses. An interesting design choice. Minthara: I would have picked prettier corpses if my intentions had been aesthetic. This was a warning against heresy. I was not content with the warning though. I intended to wage war on their insolent god, and the rest of its followers. Even as the flesh sagged and sloughed away from their eyeless skulls, their audacity infuriated me. I had to know where they came from. And whoever sent them was counting on my curiosity overcoming my caution.

Player(option 2): They were fools to encroach on Lolth's territory. Minthara: I thought so too. This world is full of fools, after all. But in this instance, I was mistaken. Our visitors were not fools - they were bait. Player (option 3): Yet they recruited you all the same:

Minthara : Recruited ("recruited" with a shake of the head. She knows her "recruitment" was actually brain-washing). You could call it that. I intended to wage war on their god and the rest of its presumptive followers.

Player: You should have captured and interrogated them. Minthara: In a manner of speaking, I did. The dead cough up their secrets just as well as the living. All it took was a simple act of necromancy, and the corpses told me where I needed to strike - Moonrise Towers. Player: You mustn't have struck very hard - the tower is still standing.

Minthara (mild regret, and some anger. doesn't like admitting her failures): Despite Ketheric's best efforts, so are we. And we shall outlast the immortal general, and his tower. But he had the upper hand when we first met. I was arrogant enough to believe I had the better of him. As it turned out, to my shame, I was defeated without even drawing my weapon.

I came to Moonrise with a retinue of warriors and assassins - the best House Baenre had to offer. I expected a battle, but found a fully-laden feast table, and a welcome befitting a house matron. Ketheric expected us - expected me - and I fell for his flattery.

Ketheric proposed an alliance between Moonrise and Menzoberranzan. I admit, I was captivated by him.

He invited me to the head of his table, as his guest of honour. I was wary, of course. If I had been in his position, the food would have been poisoned. It was not the food I should have been wary of. It was the pale woman at the foot of the table - Orin the Red.

(regret and anxiety - she fears Orin the Red more than anyone else in the world)

We had barely begun to eat when she spoke for the first time. I only caught one word - my name. Then, quick as lightning, she climbed onto the table, a dagger in each hand, and skipped toward me, slicing the throats out of my men as she passed them. Few things frighten me. Orin is one of them. Ketheric held me still. His hand on my shoulder, the grip tight enough to crack the bone. When Orin stood before me, she touched the dagger to my eye, drawing out a tear of blood. I want this one, she said. Ketheric nodded his permission, and I was taken below. You've seen the horrors of the colony. Orin kept me there for days. She forced me to watch as my men were processed; some for food, others as thralls. And then she placed the tadpole in my eye herself. Player: You were too trusting. Minthara (Regret and sadness - she's being cruel to herself here, suggesting past trauma was deserved): I was. I deserved what happened to me, for my passivity, for my weakness. For my pride. .

#minthara #drow #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 spoilers #bg3 script #orin the red

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mortal-ethos · 1 month ago

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I finally finished the Minthara smut I was working on for like 2 weeks cause I'm hyperromantic and on the ace spectrum and sometimes I just DONT KNOW WHAT TO WRITE THAT OK

I'll be posting it to my AO3 later but it's nearly 4k words, it's soft Minthy, it's got some plot, it's a little hurt/comfort on the barest of bones, it's transmasc!Durge (or Tav but I imagined one of my Durges when I wrote it), it's pathetic and whimpering submissive man reverent of his wife, it's filling in for part of the romance after it starts on a good playthrough, idk if you want it it's below the cut

“Tonight there will be no voices, no orders, no gods… I belong only to you.” She says with a slightly mischievous smile, and he takes a step closer to her.

”Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly, his eyes searching in hers desperately.

She had consumed his thoughts once they had allied themselves together, and even prior to her escape from Moonrise Towers he would get distracted remembering the drow’s pointed glare and scathing tongue. He had shown her inexplicable mercy. He remembers standing above her, unconscious and subdued, as he raised his hand to make Lae’zel pause on the final blow. They had decimated the camp at the desecrated temple, leaving no goblin alive for her to command. Perhaps it was an odd stroke of sympathy, or perhaps he was simply too honorable of a wretch; rendered limp and weak at the sight of her, helpless - defenseless to an attack.

The githyanki scoffed at his mercy, and cursed him for being so clumsy during their travels afterwards, while Shadowheart laughed at his habit of tripping over tree roots and stones, and nearly walking into vertical structures while lost in his thoughts of her. Had she left the temple? What did she think upon waking, seeing everyone else, from underling to True Soul, laying bloodied and lifeless upon the stone? His attempts to hide his intrigue towards her was pathetic, and Astarion’s teasing was absolutely incessant.

“And here I thought the tadpole was the biggest threat to losing our minds. Apparently it's just been a beautiful, scary, drow woman this whole time. How… comforting.” The vampire said after a particularly embarrassing moment where he did actually fall to the ground, treating himself to a face full of timmask spores and a night of utter humiliation at camp.

Seeing her tormented and tortured by Absolute cultists nearly sent him over the edge. They weren’t satisfied. Her cries for mercy still rang through his head, and before he knew it he had followed her into the dungeons of the towers. To see her on her knees disgusted him. This woman was strong, proud, capable, and held a fierceness he hadn’t seen in many others. At least, not that he could remember. They slaughtered the bastards, and as blood covered his hands, dripping down his staff onto the stone beneath him, she saw him again. He had freed her from the mental suffering she was under, her disbelief further muddying her cloudy mind. This man that woefully bested her, massacred her entire army and fellow leaders, a stain on her record of enemies felled, was her savior. And of all the things, she had lived. He let her live, again.

She couldn’t say why, but despite her better judgement, she trusted him. She had no choice. He stood before her, clad in a glimmering scarlet cloak and worn, dark armor. His cool, white hair was stained red from being soaked in blood time and time again, and the sight of it being for her in that moment made her heart palpitate. She had tried to keep her distance since then, observing him, along with his other companions, and evaluating his words and actions. She waited for the dagger at her back, poison in her food, watched for whispers of conspiracy against her. Her efforts were fruitless. He was too determined, too clever, too passionate, too honest, too loyal.

He began taking bites of her food after noticing her hesitancy to eat with them. He would bring her a dish, look into her eyes before looking back down to the meal. He took small bites of every separate piece of food, confidently but quietly; slowly so she could see him chew and swallow. The first time he did this she questioned him sternly, though he stayed silent. He merely finished his sampling, set the dish beside her, and gave a small smile. “Let me know if it’s not to your liking,” he said, before leaving her to eat in peace. She watched him as he walked away, calmly and in no hurry, before turning her attention to the food in front of her. She picked up the bowl, hesitantly. She took in the familiar scent before studying the meal: roasted deep rothé with a side of mushrooms, smothered in a spiced, creamy sauce she can’t identify. She poked through the food in search of anything hidden beneath it but found nothing. She finally took a bite, tiny and cautiously. The taste of home overwhelmed her. The food wasn’t expertly prepared, but it was done with care; that much was clear. She couldn’t keep a smile from creeping onto her cheeks, and it was the first meal she had finished in a long time. He continued to taste her food, comfortably and easily, and not once did he hesitate - he never gave her a reason not to trust him, and how thoroughly she did look for one.

”I am yours. Come to me.” She says sensually, as she pulls him into her. Her lips meet his softly, but hungrily. Her hand cups his face, and she smiles into the kiss as she feels his hand resting on the small of her back, keeping them close. She savors the connection for a moment before pulling away, still holding his cheek. She meets his gaze, eyes full of adoration and gentleness as she exhales a quiet laugh and grins. His eyes, one the color of the blood, the other reminding her of the Glowcap mushrooms of the Underdark, sparkle with mirth. She finds herself smiling so much around him, it scares her. To trust someone like this is no easy task, but she never could have prepared herself for him; for someone to see and understand her with such innate ease.

“I could lose myself in you.” She admits, having never been the woman to speak a comforting lie - but a comforting truth? She was especially keen to learn to say those much more now. He is silent for a moment, and his eyes darken. It stirs deep within her core, and she finds herself craving more than just a taste of him. Without a moment of hesitation, he lifts her into his arms and her legs wrap around his waist. His one arm wraps around her waist firmly as the other supports her bum, padding into the soft flesh through her thin leather trousers. She expects him to carry her into her tent, but furrows her brow when he instead starts to walk her up the hill. “And where do you think you're taking me?”

He gives her a smirk as his arms hold her even tighter, preventing her from shifting and seeing the surprise or subduing him beforehand; which she could do easily. “Trust me.” Is all he says and she relents, relaxing into his embrace. He carries her further up the hill to a dilapidated shack, some parts of the wall have fallen and the floorboards creak as he steps. He sets her down on what feels like a bed beneath her and she takes in the scene. A warm fire burns brightly in the hearth along the back wall most center of the room, illuminating the bed before it. Straw and pelts cover the frame, piled moderately for a modicum of comfort. Blankets are laid across the foot of the bed, with small pillows littered against the headboard. She eyes him playfully, questioning, running her hands along the soft furs. “I've stolen some nights away to sleep here. Thought it might be easier to share than your hammock.” He says softly as he leans forward onto the bed, his arms on either side of her.

He places his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching, lips only a breath away. Their mouths open, craving and pleading. Their eyes shut as she closes the short distance, bringing her arm around his neck to lower the both of them down. They hold the kiss, desperately savoring the moment before they need to pull away for air. He looks into her eyes, dark and needy. Her hands play with the collar of his tunic, lightly tugging at the hanging threads.

Off. Her mind enters his, still warm and welcoming from their previous confessions. It's not a command, not an order; it's a plea. He complies wordlessly, sitting up to slip his top over his head. He places it off to the side of the bed and her eyes scan over his lean figure. His pearlescent periwinkle skin is decorated with small scars, very much like her own, and her fingertips trace along his abdomen causing his muscles to contract and shiver under her touch. Pretty thing. Her mind caresses his own; his face and the tips of his slightly pointed ears turn a deeper shade of purple. His eyes pierce hers, as he holds her presence in his head. He slowly lowers himself to meet her face once more, letting his lips barely graze over hers before beginning to trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She groans in frustration, but is quickly silenced as he travels upwards to her ear. The warm, gentle swipe of his tongue along the ridge of it, from lobe to tip, nearly causes her to let out a moan. He chuckles lowly in her ear, knowing his actions had the desired effect. She curses him in her thoughts and he begins to bite delicately along her ears, succeeding in drawing a moan from her lips.

“I can still hear your thoughts, you know.” He rasps quietly, and she scoffs.

“If I did not want you to hear them, you wouldn't.” She retorts spitefully, but a gentle bite on her neck immediately softens any more exasperated remarks he might have received. He begins placing long, doting kisses down to her sternum, in between the panes of leather across either side of her torso.

May I? His voice echoes in her mind, and she quivers as she nods in response. He begins to undo the cords holding the front of her top together, and continues to brush his fingertips teasingly along the sides of her arms. He delicately slips his fingers under the fabric on her shoulders, carefully pulling them off to the sides to free her chest. He pauses for a few moments, and she looks at him in slight concern.

“Is something wrong?” She asks, and his eyes stay focused on her, although seeming to trace every part of her a dozen times over. He slightly shakes his head, his eyes never leaving her, and he finally meets her gaze.

“I’d somehow forgotten how beautiful you are.” He speaks in a whisper, but in the quiet of the night she hears him perfectly clear. The fireplace crackles and she hears her heart beat in her ears. Her eyes widen, as she feels the tips of her ears burn hot. He slips her top off of her arms and sits back on his legs, pulling her up with him to move her shirt out from under her. He does so, but keeps his arms wrapped around her. One softly supports around her waist, as the other’s hand snakes through her hair, holding her in a warm embrace. Feeling their chests against each other leads to the desperate claiming of the others’ mouths. Fervent and hungry, the taste of the other makes them drunk, as tongues dance and savore in time. Merely kissing him was enough to send her into a daze, and she hated to admit it. They pull away, breathing heavily, and he meets her eyes again. “Tonight, you belong only to me.” He repeats her words from earlier to her, and she gives a small smirk before he continues. “And I, to you.” He stares into her eyes as he lowers them both down once more. He begins to kiss her feverishly, taking her breath away at every opportunity. He starts to travel down her chest, needily lapping at every inch of her skin, and his lips graze against her left nipple, while his thumb delicately circles around her other one. He takes the bud into his mouth, his tongue flicking gently as her nipples harden. His warm mouth engulfs it, flooding her senses for a moment. He offers the other the same treatment before continuing down her stomach to focus on her hip bones. He tugs at her waistband to bare the soft ridges, prime for worship. His fingers dance along them as she shivers, feeling her need pool between her legs.

He swiftly removes her leather trousers and her small clothes along with them. She lays bare before him, as he breathes out a nearly imperceptible growl. The night air, though cool, wasn't what made her body tremble. His eyes wash over her, dark, lidded, reverent. They take in every dip and curve, every mark and freckle. He watches as her chest raises and lowers with every breath, and follows up to meet her gaze. His eyes are piercing, wordlessly begging for permission to continue.

Their minds connect again. Hunger and desire take over his sense of control as heat rushes over them both. Lightning strikes through them as he lunges forward, capturing her lips in his. His kisses are ravenous, and she matches every one. She holds his face, her hands snaking through his hair as her tongue skirts along his bottom lip. He accepts it and tastes her, moaning into her mouth. His hands reach down to her thighs and push them up, her feet no longer against the bed. He forces the kiss to end against both of their desires, as he quickly sinks down between her thighs. He grasps the flesh firmly, his fingers bound to leave imprints as he wraps his arms around her legs. He plants kisses along the inside of her legs, his tongue darting out to trail towards her wet center.

As his face rests for a moment against her hip, with his eyes closed, his nose brushes against the top of her pelvis. He trails it down, between her leg and the most sensitive part of her body. He inhales, the scent of her intoxicating him, and kisses the side of her vulva. His eyes open to look directly into hers. His brows droop and his irises look nearly black. She fights to keep her own composure at the man before her, pathetically nuzzling into her groin. She hears his voice in her head.

Please, please, may I?

She barely has time to answer between his continued pleading.

Please, I wish to please you. I want you - to taste you.

She watches as his shoulders heave with every continued plea. Little whines and whispers breaking through his barely parted lips, his hips swaying as he rubs against the bed in aching desire. He continues to kiss along her lower stomach, above her womb. His hands shift to her hip bones, massaging and caressing as he struggles to control himself.

Please mistress, allow me this. She feels his hunger settle in her core as she breaks. She takes his head in her hands and pushes his face in between her lower lips, as his mouth opens to receive. She gasps as his tongue swipes against her, flat and open, as he laps up her dripping slick. She feels him moan into her, deep and guttural, as he slowly traces along her folds, making sure to not miss a single spot. He brushes his nose against her clit a few times as he does so, sending shocks through her spine with each swipe. He finally brings his wet muscle up to meet it, gently flicking its underside. He circles around it, infuriatingly slow, and she bucks her hips into his mouth with her hands clenched in his hair.

He moans again, desperate but gleefully, as he eagerly meets her demand. He licks upwards once before taking her clit between his lips and continuing to swipe his tongue quickly against the very front of it. Her hands grip his hair harder as moans begin to escape her throat, breathy and sweet as syrup. She rolls her hips into his face, and he pulls her even closer against his mouth as his hands keep the back of her thighs pressed up against his shoulders. Her wetness starts to drip down his chin, and he takes only a moment away from his duty to lap up the mess. His tongue tastes inside her entrance, and she clenches, wishing he was inside of her but too desperate to tell him to stop. She needed the release he had been building within her, and needed it quickly. He takes one of her hands from head, entwining their fingers together above her stomach and the touch electrified her.

He returns to her clit, but moves his free hand to gently stroke against her outer lips. Her thoughts echoed in his head, and he was eager to please. His fingers toy with them as he plays with the slick continuing to accumulate before teasing her hole. It aches and twitches in response, greedy for any attention. He needs to only slip a single fingertip in before she practically consumes him. One finger easily turns to three, as he stretches her and firmly brushes his fingers against the top of her walls. He presses gently, and her moans turn darker as he quickens his movements. The pressure inside of her builds as she feels his warm, soft tongue continue its onslaught. His fingers curl inside of her and after a few more laps of his tongue, she comes undone. Her body spasming as she thrusts into his mouth, raspy moans filling the air around them. He looks up to her with eyes full of adoration, drunk off of her. He helps her ride out her orgasm on his mouth, as he gently removes his fingers from inside of her. He hungrily licks them clean before giving the same treatment to the place between her legs. He licks everywhere clean: down her bum, between her folds, and gently inside of her. He brings himself up to face her as she regains her breath, still holding her hand as he moves his arm above her head. She roughly grasps his cheeks in one of her hands, her eyes focusing on his lips before working to taste herself on his chin. She kisses him deeply, as he generously shares his tongue with her, still coated in her taste.

He pulls back to look into her eyes, a pleased and proud smile creeping onto his lips. He takes her other hand into his and kisses each of her knuckles, not breaking eye contact. He turns her hand to kiss her palm, his eyes sparkling with adoration before closing in contentment as he holds it against his cheek. His eyelashes flutter as he opens them again, slightly. Her breath hitches.

My lady. His voice is gentle between her ears, warm and melodic. She smirks as she wraps her leg around his, and promptly flips them both over. She now has his hand pinned above him, and he lets out a low chuckle. She straddles one of his legs, her residual wetness leaving a spot on his trousers. He pays no mind and moves his free arm to embrace her, pulling her close by the waist till their bodies have no space left between them. Their noses and foreheads touch and he hums, content with her weight laid upon him.

“Rest now. We must make for Baldur’s Gate at first light.” He whispers and she responds with a soft scowl.

“Rest? I crave you. How weak do you take me, that I can not indulge upon you tonight?” Her words bite deeper than he expected and his heart paused for a moment; his breath caught in between his ribs.

“I would never think you weak, nor have I ever.” He says shakily, and she raises an eyebrow. She sits up, moving her hands down to rest upon his chest. Her eyes pierce his own, and he nearly loses the ability to speak. His mouth opens and closes for a moment, before he responds awkwardly. His gaze shifts slightly from hers, to her ears, down to the tattoo on her neck. She notices. “In truth, I'm the one that's weak.”

Her nails dig into his skin slightly as the sentence slips from his lips. He doesn't make a sound. As if she'd waste time on a man, of all things, if he were a weakling. He can't meet her eyes, ashamed at knowing the offense he gave regardless of his attempt to mediate the situation.

��There's something I must tell you.” He starts, and sits himself up to be face to face. Propped on his hands, he continues. “I am not quite a man in the way you might… have anticipated.” His typical confidence disappears, and she eases her grip on his flesh. The area now brightened from the previous torment, as her fingertips glide slowly along where her nails had left indents. He gently takes one of her hands, her fingers spread out slightly, and brings it lower to just underneath his chest muscle. They trace along creeks of skin, softer than what she was touching previously, slightly raised in some parts as she feels along the entirety of the scar. She looks down now to see them, nearly imperceptible if one wasn’t made aware and she felt heat rise to her cheeks - her blood hot.

“How did I not notice before.” The rhetorical slips from her throat huskily, anger hanging onto every word that lingers in the air for a few seconds before he clears his throat to respond. He can’t look her way.

“I should have said sooner, I’m sorry. I was worried that-,” he says softly before she interrupts him.

“An apology? For what? It matters not whatever you were. You belong to me - exactly as you are now. I only resent that I wasn't perceptive enough to save you the trouble.” She says curtly. She doesn't quite realize the weight her words hold in his chest, as she rather unceremoniously continues to pout over her failure to observe him to her standards. His heart thrums and he gives her a smile, his eyes wet and soft. He brings a hand to her chin, his index finger resting lightly beneath it as his thumb presses against the center of her bottom lip gently; just enough to bring it down slightly. His breath sticks in his throat and he swallows hard, before licking his own lips.

“For tonight, I only want to hold you. If you’d grant me the privilege.” He whispers, and her furrowed brow relaxes - her ruby eyes soften.

“Then take me. Embrace me till I forget how it feels to not be in your arms.”

He brings her to him, a gentle kiss, but enrapturing. At the first brush of their lips against each other, he lowers himself and she follows. This kiss is different than last time, though. It is not desperate, not feverish and devouring; it is slow and savoring, sweet like honey. His arms wrap around her, not suffocating, not too tight; like wings unfurled tenderly enveloping her. His love beamed through his actions more so than his words, shining brightly in the dark of the night.

#minthara x durge #minthara #ao3 fanfic #smut

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