#minthara x reader

[moonselune]

Bg3 companions and a reader who is ridiculously into them? like can't be around them without blushing, stuttering over words, etc.

Love your writing ♥️♥️♥️

ahhhhh thank you so much, this was a pleasure to write !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Breakfast in camp had become a small but daily ordeal. Sitting across from Karlach was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking. She always looked so effortlessly radiant—her wide smile lighting up her face, her hair messy from sleep, and that laugh that came from deep within her chest. You, meanwhile, were a nervous mess, barely able to lift a spoon without fumbling it in her presence.

This morning, you were attempting to slice an apple while also trying to sneak glances at her, as usual. But, distracted as you were, you barely noticed when she caught you looking. She grinned, that flash of teeth making your heart skip about five beats.

“Hey, you want some?” she asked, holding out a plate piled high with a variety of fresh fruits. You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Uh—y-yes! I mean, no! I mean—” You fumbled for the right words, your voice a bit too loud in your panic. Karlach looked at you, mildly confused but amused.

“Alright then, you let me know if you change your mind,” she said, winking, before going back to her breakfast. The little wink nearly killed you on the spot, and you dropped your apple, which rolled dramatically across the table and plopped off the other side.

Wyll, sitting beside you, tried to hide a snicker behind his hand. He’d been noticing your flustered behavior around Karlach for days and had clearly reached his breaking point. As Karlach turned away, Wyll leaned in close to you, smirking.

“Oh, this is painful to watch,” he muttered, barely containing his laughter. “When are you going to do something about it?”

You gave him a quick, desperate glare, feeling the blood drain from your face.

“Do something?” you whispered, panic lacing your voice. “Wyll, I can’t even string a proper sentence together around her without sounding like a fool!”

Wyll rolled his eyes, still grinning.

“Trust me, I can see that,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “But if you keep this up, it’s going to get unbearable for both of us. You’re absolutely lovesick, and she’s completely oblivious.”

“Lovesick?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice low but also scandalized by the word. “That’s… that’s not…”

Wyll arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look that read, Really?

You sighed, knowing he was right. Every time Karlach entered the room, you either found an excuse to leave or wound up a blushing, stumbling mess. Just this morning, she’d brushed a crumb off your shoulder, and you had nearly collapsed on the spot.

Wyll laughed, patting you on the back a little harder than you would have liked. “Look, if you don’t do something soon, I will. Maybe I’ll tell her for you—‘oh, by the way, did you know you’ve got someone so smitten with you, they can’t even eat breakfast right?’”

Your eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow with challenge.

“Fine,” you whispered, heart racing at the thought of actually doing something about it. “What do I… say?”

Wyll shrugged, his expression softening a bit. “Just talk to her. Be honest. If there’s one thing Karlach respects, it’s bravery. And if there’s one thing she loves, it’s someone who cares as much as she does.”

But as you mulled it over, you looked across the table and saw Karlach laughing at something Astarion was saying, her eyes bright with amusement, her entire face aglow with the life and warmth she carried effortlessly. You swallowed, trying to imagine how you’d ever muster up the courage to tell her anything.

The rest of breakfast went by with your heart hammering and Wyll occasionally sending you smirking looks. You felt like you were on fire, thoughts racing as you considered his words.

Finally, as camp was beginning to break up and everyone was scattering to their daily tasks, you decided to follow Wyll’s advice. Taking a deep breath, you gathered every bit of courage you could find and made your way over to Karlach, who was busy folding up her bedroll. She looked up, surprised, as you approached.

“Oh, hey! Need something?” she asked, her grin warm as always.

You cleared your throat, feeling the words get caught. “I… um…”

Karlach tilted her head, watching you patiently. “Everything okay?”

And there it was, the opening. The chance to say something. Be brave, you reminded yourself. You took a deep breath and tried again.

“I just… wanted to say…” you stumbled, unable to look her in the eye. “I really… enjoy spending time with you.”

The corners of her mouth turned up in a soft smile, her eyes studying your face, but still, she seemed blissfully unaware. “Well, good! Same here! You’re a lot of fun, you know. Brave in your own way, even if a bit shy,” she teased lightly, giving your arm a light squeeze.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe Wyll had a point—Karlach appreciated bravery, and here you were, looking like a fool again. But as her hand lingered just a moment longer on your arm, you felt a surge of determination. This was only the beginning.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You’d found Minthara’s sword on the outskirts of camp that morning, half-buried beneath some tangled roots. It was unmistakably hers—dark metal with a wicked curve, and elegant engravings tracing the hilt. You’d only seen her use it from afar, but even then, there was something mesmerizing about the way she wielded it, about the way her gaze sharpened whenever she held a blade. You were already a bundle of nerves at the thought of returning it to her, and that only got worse the closer you got to her tent.

She was sharpening a dagger when you approached, her expression focused, so much so that for a moment, you thought about turning back. But then she noticed you, her eyes snapping up to meet yours with a glint of curiosity.

“You’re looking rather… tense.” Her eyebrow arched slightly as she took you in.

Your heart thudded painfully, and you swallowed, forcing yourself to hold up the sword without dropping it. “Uh, I… found this for you. Your sword, I mean. It was… um, outside camp, and I thought you might want it back?”

Her gaze softened, a small smirk playing on her lips as she reached for the sword, her fingers brushing against yours. You nearly jumped at the contact, face burning, feeling like you might explode from embarrassment. You tried to say something else, but the words came out as a strangled squeak, and you practically forced yourself to look at the ground to avoid those piercing eyes of hers.

“Hmm,” she murmured, glancing over the sword, and then back at you. “Thank you. It's… refreshing to see someone with a sense of respect.” She held your gaze for a moment longer, and then, with an amused nod, she went back to her sharpening.

You quickly walked away, all but stumbling as you escaped, only to find yourself practically nose-to-nose with Shadowheart, who looked far too amused.

"Gods above," she snorted, crossing her arms. "I've never seen someone turn so red while returning a weapon."

You stammered, looking anywhere but at her. "I was just… trying to be polite!"

"Polite? If that's your version of polite, then I’d hate to see you actually try flirting," she teased, unable to hide her grin.

“Oh, please,” you huffed, looking away and trying to calm the blush still heating your face. “It's just… I don’t know. I like her, alright? Even if she’s… well, she could probably kill me without a second thought.”

Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. "Good to know you’re aware. And yet you still act like a lovesick fool around her, it's almost like you want her to kill you."

“I would die happy!” you blurted out, throwing your hands up. “Minthara could do anything she wants to me—absolutely anything at all—and I’d thank her. She could stomp me into the dirt, call me a fool, hex me, curse me, make my life a living hell, and I'd still probably thank her with my last breath!”

Shadowheart laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You’re hopeless."

But you were too caught up in your rant. "I’d let her do anything—anything at all! She could make me fetch her supplies every morning, have me clean her sword every night, stand guard for her at dawn and dusk, and I’d still think it was the best thing to ever happen to me!”

"Ahem."

You froze, mid-rant, and turned slowly to find Minthara standing directly behind you. She looked deeply amused, one eyebrow raised, her eyes glittering with dark humor. Her smirk was even more wicked than usual, and her gaze held you captive as she stepped closer.

“Good to know,” she said, her voice smooth and cool, her smirk only growing. “I may have to test that loyalty sometime.”

She winked at you, and then, just as easily as she’d come, she turned and sauntered away, leaving you standing there completely speechless, your face redder than ever.

Shadowheart burst out laughing, clutching her side as she watched you sway in shock. “You really have a gift for making a fool of yourself, you know that?”

You sank to your knees, stunned, still processing that Minthara had heard every single word. Shadowheart’s laughter rang in your ears, but you were simply too dazed to care. Perhaps that death would come quicker than expected - if your own heart didn't give out first.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

Every time Lae’zel looked your way, you felt like a live wire, a rush of heat filling your face. She seemed to command every space she entered, her presence sharp, unapologetic, and utterly captivating. But whenever you were around her, every sentence became a tangle of stammered nonsense, and all you could do was blush helplessly. Today was no different.

You were fumbling with your supplies near the fire when Lae’zel walked over, her gaze scrutinizing as always.

"You’ve been acting strange,” she declared, crossing her arms and eyeing you critically. “Weakness of any sort is unacceptable. Are you unwell?"

Her bluntness only made you more flustered, words tripping over each other as you tried to respond. "No, I… I mean, yes, but not in that way. I mean, I'm fine. Completely fine.”

Lae’zel’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced. “You are not fine. You stammer, you lose color and gain it again. See Halsin or Shadowheart—this weakness needs mending.”

Desperate to reassure her, you tried to explain further, but each attempt seemed to make it worse. “I’m not… it’s not that kind of weakness, I just—well, around you, I—uh…”

She fixed you with a glare, her frown deepening. "Enough. Your words make less sense with every second. Perhaps you’re more ill than you realize.”

Your cheeks burned as she turned sharply to fetch Halsin, all but barking his name across camp. He arrived quickly, taking in the scene with a look of amused understanding.

“She is in poor health,” she said, gesturing at you. “They are losing control over their words and show clear signs of a fever. You will attend to them.”

Halsin’s brows lifted slightly, and with a knowing look, he glanced from you to Lae’zel. He gave a slow, considering nod. “Yes, I believe I see the trouble. An ailment, certainly… though it appears to be more of the heart than of the body.”

Lae’zel scowled, gripping her weapon as if ready for battle. “Explain this ‘heart ailment.’ What creature has inflicted it upon them?”

Halsin chuckled softly. “They’ve been bitten by a lovebug, Lae’zel. That’s all.”

Lae'zel let out a string of sharp Gith curses, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "A lovebug. Where does it lurk, this creature? If it is preying upon our camp, I’ll hunt it down myself and crush it beneath my blade."

Her fierce determination, though absurd, only made your heart race more. Halsin stifled a laugh, giving you a sidelong look of utter amusement.

“I think you’ll find that hunting it will be… difficult,” he said, barely hiding his grin. “The lovebug often prefers stealth, hiding within feelings rather than form.”

“Feelings, a psychic offender,” she repeated, her brow creasing in thought. After a moment, she nodded decisively. “It is trickier prey, then. But I will find it nonetheless.”

And with that, she strode off, muttering to herself about unknown threats to the camp. As soon as she was out of earshot, Halsin let out a laugh, clapping you on the shoulder. “You know, I think you may have just made a miraculous recovery.”

You let out a groan, pressing a hand to your flushed face. “Do you think she’ll ever realize?”

“Not any time soon, I’d wager,” he chuckled. “But watching her hunt for a creature that doesn’t exist… that’s something we’ll all enjoy.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart’s approach had been so unassuming, yet it immediately set your heart racing. You’d been minding your own business by the campfire, trying not to glance her way too much, when she’d walked over, looking perfectly calm and utterly oblivious to the effect she had on you. She needed help with a spell—one that apparently you could explain better than anyone else at camp. You tried to play it cool, managing a quick, slightly-too-high “Sure!” and hoping your pulse wasn’t visibly hammering in your throat.

Standing beside her, you began explaining the spell, hands trembling ever so slightly as you demonstrated the incantation.

“So…uh…you’ll want to focus your energy here, at the core…” you muttered, gesturing to the focus stone. You held it out for her to see, only to have her fingers brush yours, sending a jolt through you that nearly made you drop the thing.

“Like this?” Shadowheart asked, her gaze flicking up to meet yours. Her dark eyes held that same thoughtful curiosity, and your voice caught in your throat. It was hard enough trying to form sentences with her this close, let alone explain a complex spell.

“Y-yes. Like that,” you managed, each word coming out slightly unsteady. “And, uh, then you just…channel it gently, but with intention.” She tilted her head, leaning closer, following along with perfect focus.

Meanwhile, just behind her, Karlach was all but dying, barely containing her laughter as she watched you fumble. Her amusement was clearly at your expense, and it took every ounce of willpower not to glare at her. Your attention drifted back to Shadowheart just as she turned her attention to the final gesture of the spell.

Her hand rested over yours for a second too long, her voice soft as she asked, “Does this look right?”

You nodded dumbly, your brain too overloaded to form a coherent reply, and somehow muttered, “It’s, uh…very…graceful.” Internally, you cringed. Graceful?

Shadowheart, apparently too engrossed in the spell to notice your red cheeks, gave a small, content nod. She released your hand, oblivious to the way you quickly hid your trembling fingers.

“Thank you,” she said with a rare smile, her voice calm and warm. “I think I understand it now.”

She turned to leave, casting one last glance over her shoulder, which made you feel simultaneously light-headed and weak in the knees. You stared after her, still processing, trying to shake off the ridiculous butterflies. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until she was already out of earshot.

The second she was gone, Karlach burst out laughing, dropping her head back in utter delight.

“Gods! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were spellbound yourself,” she teased, unable to wipe the grin off her face. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen. Hopeless,” she declared, shaking her head at you with a mischievous gleam.

Heat flooded your face all over again as you groaned, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I know, okay? It’s…utterly hopeless,” you admitted, voice thick with defeat. Before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed her mug of beer straight from her hand and downed it in a few quick gulps, hoping it would somehow wash away the mortification you felt. Setting the empty mug down, you sighed deeply. “She didn’t even notice anything.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re very, very wrong,” Karlach countered, her smile twisting into something sly and secretive. She crossed her arms, leaning in as if sharing a precious secret. “Because she was definitely checking you out while you were showing her that spell.”

You froze, turning slowly to look at her, heart skipping a beat.

“You’re joking,” you muttered, voice barely above a whisper. There was a spark of hope, ridiculous but undeniable, blooming somewhere deep in your chest.

Karlach grinned wider, shaking her head. “Oh, no. She was stealing glances at you the entire time,” she said, sounding far too pleased with herself. “She’d peek up at you just when you weren’t looking, trying to act all serious, but she couldn’t quite pull it off. You might be as oblivious, but I’ve got eyes.” She winked, patting your shoulder in encouragement.

Your mind raced, playing the whole interaction back. You remembered how Shadowheart’s gaze had lingered, her voice soft, her questions coming slower, almost careful… Could Karlach really be right? Was it possible that Shadowheart had actually been…interested?

“Maybe there’s hope after all…” you mumbled, feeling that glimmer of excitement grow.

Karlach clapped you on the back with a laugh, nearly knocking the air out of you. “There you go! Just keep stuttering and blushing—seems to be working like a charm.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Guess I’ll just have to keep embarrassing myself, then,” you said, grinning despite yourself.

Karlach’s laughter echoed across the camp, but her eyes held a genuine warmth as she said, “Well at least it’s a start. You’ll get there.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira's gaze was focused, unrelenting as she adjusted your grip on the scimitar. Her hands, warm and confident, guided yours over the hilt, showing you the correct angle, the precise strength you should use. Every time her hand brushed yours, you felt your heart stammer. You hoped she didn’t notice your flushed cheeks or the way your breath caught every time she leaned closer.

“Here,” she said, her voice calm but commanding. She moved to your side, adjusting the angle of your stance with the barest brush of her hand along your back. “It’s not about brute force,” she murmured, her voice so close it felt like a whisper. “It’s about control, understanding where the balance lies in every movement.”

You nodded, barely able to find your voice, managing only a stuttered, “Y-yes, of course.” But you were far more focused on her proximity than any of her advice.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Astarion lounging a few paces away, arms crossed and a devilish grin spreading across his face. He had noticed, of course—there was no hiding it from his all-too-keen gaze. Before you could silently beg him to go easy on you, he stepped closer, feigning a helpful tone.

“Stick your rear out more,” he suggested, his voice laced with amusement. “Helps with balance. And I’m sure Jaheira would agree.” He flashed you a wicked grin, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Your face flamed, and you shot him a withering look.

“Thanks, Astarion,” you muttered under your breath, attempting to ignore him. But his smirk only widened, and he continued to watch, pleased with himself.

Jaheira, still adjusting your stance, gave you a quick nod, oblivious to your flustered state and Astarion’s antics.

“There you go,” she said, stepping back just enough to observe your form. “Much better.” She gave a satisfied nod and went on to demonstrate a quick series of strikes, her movements fluid and sure, each slash a picture of precision and elegance.

You could barely pay attention, completely distracted by the grace with which she wielded her weapon, the easy strength in her every move. As she looked back at you, catching you gawking, you fumbled to regain focus.

“Uh—yes! Right, like that!” you stammered, hurriedly attempting to mimic her motions.

Jaheira gave a small, amused smile before nodding approvingly. “Keep practicing that sequence. It’ll help build your control.”

As she left the clearing, giving you one last nod of encouragement, you could hardly breathe. You waited until she was out of sight before collapsing against Astarion, running a hand through your hair with a groan.

“I’m hopeless,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She probably thinks I’m a complete mess.”

“Oh, she definitely does,” Astarion said, his grin impossibly smug as he gave you a playful shove. “But she won’t have to wonder about it for long.”

You shot him a look, eyebrow raised in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Astarion’s smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I may have left your journal in her tent. You know, the one with the little poems in the margins?” He waggled his eyebrows, feigning innocence.

Your eyes went wide, horror settling over you as you gaped at him.

“You didn’t,” you whispered, dread turning your stomach. The journal held every embarrassing thought, every scribbled confession, every starry-eyed rant about Jaheira that you hadn’t dared speak aloud.

“Oh, but I did.” Astarion’s voice was light, mocking even, but his eyes held a teasing warmth. “Look on the bright side. At least now she’ll know how much you ‘admire her scimitar technique.’ among other things..”

You shrieked in exasperation, though a traitorous part of you couldn’t help but feel the faintest spark of excitement at the idea. You shoved Astarion, who merely laughed, delighted with himself, as you stood there in helpless anticipation, wondering how you’d ever face Jaheira again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

Trying to stay composed around Gale was becoming increasingly impossible. You could barely string together a coherent sentence whenever he was nearby, your cheeks burning and your heart racing so loudly you were sure he could hear it. It had gotten to the point that, during one of his magic lessons, you’d accidentally projected a very vivid thought about kissing him far into the Weave—and while he hadn’t directly addressed it, you had felt your face go scarlet the moment it happened.

Yet, despite that blunder and all your clumsy attempts to communicate the depths of your affection, Gale remained completely oblivious. And this state of suspended longing, this fruitless crush, was starting to drive you mad.

After another awkward lesson with Gale where you stumbled over your words and blushed at the mere brush of his hand over yours, you found yourself venting to Minthara, though you knew her to be an unlikely confidante. Her eyes held little sympathy, her arms crossed as she gave you a hard, skeptical look.

“Just grab the wizard and use him for your pleasure,” she suggested bluntly, as if it were the obvious solution. Her gaze was sharp and impatient. “You’re a warrior, not a blubbering fool.”

You shook your head quickly, horrified. “No, no, it’s not like that! I don’t just want him in some shallow way.” You sighed, your heart feeling tight. “I want to… to adore him. To look after him. To treasure everything about him, every small thing, every story he tells and every spell he casts. I want to worship him like he deserves.” You leaned into your words, almost forgetting who you were talking to in the rapture of your lovesick confession. “I want to make him feel like he’s the most cherished person in the world.”

Minthara recoiled as if you’d offended her sensibilities with such sentimentality, looking visibly revolted by your romantic ramblings. Her lips curled in distaste.

“By the darkness, are you even listening to yourself?” She gave an exasperated huff, then, with a roll of her eyes, she called across the camp, her voice clear as a bell. “Wizard!” she yelled, her tone commanding and fierce. “They want to go on their knees for you—are you going to do something about it, or will I have to rip out their tongue to stop their endless lovesick whining?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach, and before you could process the horror, Gale turned, an expression of curiosity mixed with surprise crossing his face as he started to walk over. You immediately whacked Minthara on the arm, panic rising as you whispered, “What are you doing?!”

Minthara looked at you with a smug indifference, ignoring your frantic scolding as if she’d done you the greatest favor.

“A strange way to show your gratitude,” she remarked drily, “given how much assistance I just rendered.”

By then, Gale had reached you both, his brows lifted in confusion, a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“What’s all this about… someone going on their knees?” he asked, looking between you and Minthara, though his gaze lingered on you. His voice was gentle, though you could see the glimmer of curiosity—and something else—in his eyes.

You shot Minthara a glare, your face flaming, then took a steadying breath, turning to Gale.

“I—um,” you stammered, realizing there was no dignified way to explain this away. “I think… what Minthara was so eloquently trying to say is that I… might, uh, harbor feelings for you.” You paused, swallowing. “Quite a few of them, actually.”

Gale’s face softened, and a warm smile played at his lips, his hand reaching to touch yours with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Well,” he murmured, his voice dipping low, “it’s wonderful to know I’m not the only one who’s felt that spark.”

Minthara turned away, clearly satisfied, muttering something about lesser beings and their foolish emotions, but you hardly noticed her departure as your heart beat out of your touch, your greatest fantasies finally coming true.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

Dinner had been an ordeal. Astarion sat beside you, closer than usual, his presence a tangible, almost overwhelming warmth. Every time he reached for something or murmured a comment, you felt yourself freeze, stumbling over your responses, blushing so furiously you’d started to worry it was noticeable. You could barely bring yourself to eat, much less speak, and by the end of the meal, you were sure you’d only embarrassed yourself.

That might have been manageable if it ended there. But just hours later, as the party approached a fortress with heavy guards stationed at the gates, Astarion took the lead, slipping into his charming, roguish element. He approached the security with a smooth, confident swagger, flashing that insouciant smile of his, every word a practiced melody of flattery and wit. He left them captivated, helpless to deny him as he led the party in with ease, his charm so intoxicating it almost felt like magic.

And while the others chuckled at his skillful maneuvering, you felt an unexpected ache in your chest. Watching him sway them so effortlessly stirred a pang of jealousy you hadn’t expected. Did he even notice the way you pined for him? The way every stray touch or knowing look from him seemed to linger long after he’d moved on?

Caught in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Gale was watching you with a raised brow. He leaned over, studying your expression with mild amusement and maybe a bit of pity.

“You look,” he began in a soft murmur, “like someone just killed a displacer kitten right in front of you.”

Startled, you forced a tight smile, trying to wave him off. “It’s nothing, Gale.”

“Nothing?” He crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Please, you’ve been fawning over Astarion for ages now, your heart practically on display.”

There was a pause as you grappled with the admission, your face heating up, but at last, the dam broke, and you began to pour out your feelings in a quiet, hushed ramble.

“It’s just… my heart beats for him, Gale. Every time he speaks, I hang on his every word. I want nothing more than to just reach over, brush his hair back, and listen to him talk about all his little grievances—his so-called ‘inconveniences,’ his charms, all of it.”

Gale nodded, looking thoughtful for a moment. And then his lips curled into a wry smile as he leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, I suppose your dilemma is solved, then.”

Confused, you blinked, feeling a twist of dread. “What do you mean?”

“Oh,” he said, chuckling, “just that you happened to be projecting that over the tadpole connection. Quite eloquently, I might add. The entire party heard every word by my predictions.”

You froze, horror dawning as you processed what Gale had just said. Every word, you realized, echoing faintly through the magical thread you shared. You dared a glance at the others, only to see Karlach giving you an encouraging thumbs-up and Shadowheart hiding a smirk behind her hand.

Then, to your ultimate mortification, Astarion strolled past, pausing just long enough to catch your eye. A sly grin played on his lips as he gave you a long, lingering look, his gaze glinting with amusement.

“Not to worry, darling,” he murmured, a teasing warmth in his voice, “I have plenty of inconveniences—and a few conveniences—to tell you all about. Shall we start tonight?”

His words sent a rush of heat up your spine, leaving you speechless as he gave a little wave, disappearing down the hallway. Gale patted your shoulder with a grin.

“See?” he said cheerfully. “All handled.”

You were left rooted to the spot, barely able to breathe, knowing that somehow you’d been caught, exposed—and that Astarion was, indeed, fully aware of the fact that your heart belonged to him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

Wyll’s presence seemed to have a gravitational pull all its own. Every time he smiled at you, every chivalrous gesture—offering his hand to help you up a steep path, or casually brushing a stray lock of hair out of your face—felt like a dream. A warmth filled your chest, so intense you could hardly look him in the eye, your words dissolving into stammered half-thoughts that trailed into silence. Each interaction left you breathless, embarrassed, and wondering if maybe, just maybe, he noticed how flustered he made you.

Training, however, was another story. Lae’zel was as intense as ever, barely giving you time to catch your breath between strikes. She was quick, sharp, and relentless, and it would have been more manageable—if you could actually focus. But each time she demanded your attention, your eyes kept wandering back to Wyll, who was a few feet away, talking to Shadowheart as he polished his sword. The way he moved, the way he spoke, that disarmingly warm smile…

It was only a matter of time before Lae'zel had enough.

She stepped back, arms crossed, leveling you with a look that could freeze lava.

“You’re distracted. Useless,” she declared, throwing down her sword with an exasperated sigh. “You pine like a hatchling, and it disrupts our sparring.”

You flushed, scrambling to come up with an excuse, but Lae’zel was already stomping off toward Wyll. You moved to intercept her, knowing she was the absolute last person who should reveal any of this. “Wait—Lae’zel, don’t!”

Lae’zel ignored you, her voice booming as she closed in on a bewildered Wyll.

“You,” she pointed at him, “this one wants to share their body with you.”

Wyll blinked, his eyes widening as he looked between you and Lae’zel, clearly trying to make sense of what she’d just said.

“I—what?” He looked at you, a blush rising to his cheeks as he fumbled for words. “I mean, I didn’t—wasn’t aware—”

Mortified, you didn’t think, you just acted, flinging yourself at Lae’zel with a force you hadn’t known you possessed. You tackled her to the ground, landing with a clumsy thud, and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Not…what I meant!” you stammered, trying to laugh it off to Wyll, who was still looking down at the both of you in complete bafflement. “What she means is—uh, we’re just, um, sparring partners! She’s…dramatic.”

Lae’zel raised an eyebrow, and with her typical stoicism, she bit down—hard—on the hand you’d used to cover her mouth. You yelped, jerking your hand back, and Lae’zel smirked, a silent satisfaction in her gaze as she sat up, looking entirely unapologetic.

Wyll was still staring, one eyebrow raised, lips quirking slightly in what looked like a restrained grin.

“I’m… not entirely sure I understand what’s going on here,” he said, his eyes bright with amusement. “But whatever it is, I’m flattered.”

You scrambled to your feet, rubbing your bitten hand, and tried to put together a coherent explanation, but every time you met his gaze, words seemed to fail you.

“Well… right,” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your face as you threw a quick glare at Lae’zel, who simply shrugged, as if completely innocent of any wrongdoing.

Wyll’s expression softened as he watched you struggle to speak, and he smiled gently.

“It’s alright,” he said, stepping closer. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you and Lae'zel.”

That simple gesture—his kindness, the warmth in his voice—made you feel as if you’d forgotten how to breathe. You managed a nod, barely holding onto your composure, while he looked at you with that disarming sincerity that always left you reeling.

Lae’zel, watching the exchange with an air of smug victory, dusted herself off. “There. See? Problem solved. Now maybe you’ll stop sparring like a weakling.”

You shot her a glare, but Wyll chuckled softly, meeting your eyes with a spark of curiosity.

“If you ever want to train together,” he said, his voice low and warm, “you need only ask.”

And with that, he gave you a wink, leaving you in a breathless, heart-pounding daze as he walked back to his gear.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Every time you were around Halsin, it was like the ground slipped out from beneath you. His voice, that low, warm rumble, made your heart pound, and every casual touch seemed to ignite sparks across your skin. He was utterly unaware, of course; his gentle smiles and steady hands never betrayed a hint of understanding that he sent you reeling. You were sure that was the only reason you hadn’t completely given yourself away.

So when you returned to camp with an injury—a jagged cut on your arm from a goblin's arrow—you hoped it might go unnoticed. Shadowheart was busy, deep in her meditation as she restored her energy, and you thought you could handle the wound alone. But Jaheira spotted the blood trailing down your arm almost immediately. She arched a brow, her eyes flashing with a mix of annoyance and amusement as she approached.

“Let’s have a look,” she said, but as she examined your arm, she shook her head with a soft sigh. “This needs a proper healer. Come on.”

Before you could protest, she’d already begun steering you toward Halsin’s corner of camp. Your heart dropped to your stomach, and a familiar warmth crept up your face. “Jaheira, no, really, I’m fine. It’s not even that deep. You could probably just—”

“Are you afraid of a little attention from the First Druid?” she teased, smirking as you stammered. “If you’re so sure you can handle it alone, why is your face turning as red as a blood hawk?”

You barely managed a protest before she’d called out to Halsin, who looked up from his work, his eyes sharpening with concern the moment he saw the blood seeping through your sleeve.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a blend of calm authority and quiet worry. He rose to meet you, his eyes never leaving the wound as he reached out, guiding you to sit down on a low stool beside him. His hands were warm, gentle but firm, and you felt heat flush up your neck and into your cheeks as he examined the wound.

Jaheira, leaning against a tent post with her arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with an amused glint in her eyes, a smile curving her lips as you struggled to steady your breathing. But Halsin didn’t notice; his focus was fully on your arm, his brow furrowed with concentration as his fingers brushed softly along the edges of the wound, checking its depth.

“It isn’t too deep,” he murmured in his gentle, rumbling voice. “But we don’t want to risk infection. I’ll clean it and make a poultice to help it heal.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure, but the feeling of his hands—steady, reassuring, and just a little too close—sent your mind reeling. “Y-yes, of course. Whatever you think is best.”

Halsin gave you a soft smile, the kind that seemed to reach into your chest and make your heart skip.

“Are you feeling alright otherwise? You look a bit flushed.” His eyes studied your face, brow creased in genuine concern. “Are you feverish?”

You blinked, thrown off by the question, and felt your face grow impossibly hotter. “No! No, not at all. I’m… I’m perfectly fine. Really. Just, um… It’s just… the wound.”

Jaheira couldn’t contain her amusement any longer; she snorted softly and rolled her eyes, muttering, “It’s certainly not the wound that has you blushing.”

You shot her a quick, desperate glare, but she only smirked, clearly enjoying your struggle.

“A shame that our healer here clearly can’t see that particular ailment,” she added, just loud enough for you to hear.

Halsin looked between you and Jaheira, a slight confusion flickering in his eyes before he turned back to you with a gentle, almost affectionate smile. “Well, you should rest nonetheless. Even a small wound can bring on a fever if not treated with care.”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb tracing light circles just above your collarbone as if to soothe you. It was a simple, instinctive gesture, but it sent a wave of warmth through you, and you fought the urge to lean into his touch, to linger in the quiet strength he offered.

“Let me just…” His voice was soft, his attention focused on preparing the poultice as he worked with deft hands. But every so often, he’d glance up, catching your gaze with that calm, reassuring smile that made your heart race all over again.

Beside you, Jaheira leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He truly has no idea, does he?”

You felt a flicker of panic, but there was no use hiding it now. You muttered, barely audible, “Not the faintest clue.”

She chuckled, shaking her head with a mix of sympathy and sarcasm. “To be fair, you’re not making it particularly obvious.”

Before you could retort, Halsin returned with the poultice, carefully applying it to your wound with practiced gentleness. The sensation of his fingers brushing against your skin, his hands steady and warm, sent another wave of nervous energy through you. He worked in silence for a moment, his gaze focused, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

“There,” he said softly, finishing the bandage. “That should hold for now. And I’ll make more of the poultice tonight to ensure it heals properly.”

You managed a shaky nod, trying to form words but only managing a faint, “Th-thank you.”

Halsin’s smile deepened, and he placed a final, reassuring hand on your arm. “It’s my pleasure to help. But if you do start feeling feverish, promise you’ll come to me immediately.”

“Yes. Of course,” you stammered, hardly able to meet his gaze. Jaheira watched you, her smile widening as she shook her head in mock exasperation.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re sick with something,” she muttered, just loud enough for Halsin to hear.

Halsin’s brow furrowed in mild concern, and he tilted his head toward her, curious. “Sick with what, precisely?”

You shot Jaheira a desperate look, but she only shrugged, that teasing glint in her eye.

“Nothing a nice cold dip in the river can't fix.,” she said, her voice laced with amusement as she turned to walk away, leaving you to face Halsin’s warm, questioning gaze.

“If you’re certain you’re well…” he said, his thumb brushing lightly along your hand in a final gesture of reassurance before he let go. “But do take it easy tonight. I’ll check in on you later, just to be sure.”

As he stood and walked away, you sat there, still reeling, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. You wanted to stay in that moment forever. Perhaps during his check in later, you would actually do something about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was actually so cute to write aha, I hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

Check out my redbubble shop here !

[avocado-writing]

For the bg3 requests how about the companions realizing they love tav in the middle of a battle(love your work!!!)

partner piece to this!

Astarion

realises when he sees you cut down someone in battle to save him.

you don’t think twice about beheading the cultist, or shooting them full of a magic missile, or stabbing them in the guts from the shadows - whatever you do is equally wonderful.

his eyes go wide as he watches you make the killing blow. warm blood spatters on his face and, when you shout to ask if he’s alright, his heart does a funny little dance in his chest.

he’s alright. he’s the most alright that he’s ever been, actually

kisses you suddenly, the taste of the kill dancing between your lips, and stares at you very sincerely.

“I love you.” then back to the battle before you can press it any further.

Gale

if you’re a spell caster, he falls for you because of your capability using magic. you have a knack for it he finds delightful.

the twirl of your hands, soft speaking as you recite verbal components, all of it - it’s all perfect.

he stares at you, distracted for a moment, and then gets a club in the side of the head and is catapulted back to battle.

if you’re not a mage then it’s when you do something he taught you, silencing an enemy wizard by cutting them off when you realise a somatic component. you shoot him a thumbs up and he feels his whole face go bright red.

you listen to him. you care about him. and he loves you.

Wyll

you’re fighting back-to-back, fending off enemies as they charge towards you, yelling out directions for the other one to be watching.

“wyll! big guy on your left!”

he turns and stabs, running through an orc, and hears you laugh from the exhilaration of battle.

he realises then how much he loves you, how he’d never have any other life than this heart-pounding, blood-pumping excitement with you; and he’d do anything to keep you safe.

there’s no time for him to confess right now… but he does reach behind himself to give your free hand a little squeeze with his. just so you know. just so he can come back to it and confess later.

Karlach

raging, so it’s less her thinking through it and more a series of realisations which come to her all at once.

you: fighting. you: protecting. you: protecting her. you: capable. you: loveable.

oh, it all slips into place. she can’t do anything about it right now because her axe is buried in the face of an ogre, but after the battle when she’s calmed down she seeks you out.

is a bit awkward about it, finds reasons to be near you, but you manage to work out what it is she is desperate to say.

give her a kiss, and she squeals with excitement. she thinks you’re just perfect!

Lae’zel

ahh, lae’zel. would she fall for you at any other time?

has always watched your form in battle but there’s something about today, this fight. she can’t keep her eyes off of you.

you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.

she realises she feels not just fondness for you, but love. something she did not believe that she’d ever experience.

she is a little distracted and gets hit, but that just makes her focus back on the battle. you check in with her afterwards and she brushes you off, stomping away to go and mull her feelings over.

is… scared to confess to you. may do it one day. not today.

Shadowheart

runs over to heal you during a battle, your wounds are great, but you shake her off:

”you’re in far worse condition than me! heal yourself first!”

she realises how hurt she is for the first time. she sort of learned to deal with the pain as she was raised sharran, but… you’re the one who’s taken notice of her. nobody has ever done that.

suddenly she is overwhelmed with feelings for you. she’d been soft for you before, but now she is overwhelmed with emotion.

she does heal herself, and then you - luxuriating in the feel of your skin under her hands.

Halsin

he’s already fond of you, but the thing that really gets him is during one particular battle.

you’re fighting and he can see you’re doing your best to protect something behind you from your assailants. during a moment when an enemy is down he sees what’s behind you: a baby boar, terrified.

not the most pleasant creature, covered in mud and squealing, but you still are attempting to shield it from the battle, and when the fight is over he sees you use magic to talk to it and calm it down, check it over for wounds.

he realises how smitten he is with you in that moment. how much you care. you are perfect, and he wants to spend his life with you.

Minthara

probably falls for you during an act of violence, a particularly bloody kill.

you show no mercy to your opponent, opening them from throat to navel, eyes bright as you see them bleed out.

you are an angel of death, vicious and proud. you smile at your kill and minthara finds herself smiling too.

charming. you are charming, and that’s all there is too it. she smiles through the rest of the battle at the thought of you.

[triptanite]

Headcanons: night routines, cuddles, and sleeping positions with the companions

it's done! we did it! enjoy :3

Pairings: Reader X (Alphabetical) (Astarion - Gale - Halsin - Karlach - Laezel - Minthara - Shadowheart - Wyll) (Gortash - Raphael - Rolan)

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

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Headcanons below

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The Companions (Alphabetical)

ASTARION

Something that may surprise you is Astarion's preference for personal space when he sleeps. Given how enthusiastically he pursues you early on (and his reasons for doing so), you thought that he would be clinging to your side as soon as your tent flap closed.

Instead however, you find that Astarion appreciates a very active goodnight cuddle before separating to sleep. You're both lying down on your sides, facing each other. Your bodies curl into one another, legs overlapping. Astarion traces over the silhouette of your body as you talk about your day, the softest touch of his fingertips bringing goosebumps to your skin. He hovers over the area where neck meets shoulder, lightly scarred from his previous feedings.

You rest your hand comfortably at his side, taking advantage of his stillness to really study his features. The smile lines in his pale skin, the length of his pointed ears, the sliver of collarbone under his shirt. He's constantly on the move during the day, so you drink in the details while you can. He debriefs to you as well, moving his hand to interlace his fingers with yours. His body is cool, and you notice his tendency to press up closer to you on to sap your body heat.

Once it's time for sleep, you untangle from each other and sleep pretty normally. He's not much of a sleep-snuggler. Though, with your nightly conversations you're not left necessarily wanting for more (not that you mind either way). You sleep in your regular position, and he on his back in the typical elven meditative pose. It's comfortable, safe, familiar.

GALE

Your nightly routine with Gale revolves around a lot of tending to the day's wounds and mishaps, paired with a constant flurry of comfortable conversation. A tear in your trousers gets patched up while staffs are cleaned and reinforced. Adjustments for tomorrow's spells are made, trails are planned. Gale sifts through your alchemy pouches, answering your questions about herb origins with gusto. You move as a unit, like two gears in the same machine. As you move about, there are other conversations occuring, subtle ones, silent ones. Gale presses his forehead to yours to stop you from scowling as you mend; you hand him bits of twine and leather as he passes by, knowing that he's looking for them.

Even as you lie together, there is movement. You're tucked under Gale's chin as he lays on his back. If you're quite still, you can feel his pulse in his neck. Gale busies his ever-moving hands by drawing on your back. Alchameic symbols, runes he's seen, trails you've walked. He illustrates his thoughts and your adventures, your body his canvas.

When you start to fall asleep, you'll wriggle your body down so that your temple rests atop his chest. He traces the curve of your neck to your shoulder. Gale switches to words, messily writing incantations over your skin like a tattoo. If you pay attention, you catch him writing 'I love you' over and over, but you elect not to say anything as he does. Before you tuck your arm around his side, you trace love hearts over his stomach. Your head over his heart, you feel it beat a little faster, then slow as you both fall asleep.

HALSIN

Halsin enjoys being present. He drinks in the sight of you slowly, revels in the ability to simply take his time. After living such a long life lived already and the turmoil of the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he has an even greater appreciation for the smaller things in life. You've not lived quite as long as he, but you've already seen and done more than seemingly entire villages of people. Time and circumstance has worn you both down to a point. Resilience bounces you back, but a healthy regular dose of affection helps too.

At night, you both sit close to the fire. Halsin whittles, chipping away slivers of wood to carve out tiny pieces of art. He looks up, stretching his neck, and watches you as you map the stars above. You scrawl over maps and spare parchment, trying to write and doodle down your memories lest you forget them. When you look over to Halsin, your eyes meet, and you chuckle a little being caught off guard.

Taking you by the hand, Halsin leads you to your shared tent. You undress him, taking your time to smooth his hair back, to run your nails over his biceps. He returns the favour, cupping your curves with his large palms, spreading warmth all throughout your body. He lays on his side in the bedroll, one arm bent and tucked under his head. You use this as a pillow, enjoying his scent so close; wood and musk. Halsins free arm drapes over your midsection to pull you in closer. You push your knee through his legs and you slot together like puzzle pieces. You begin to talk about your latest mapping, your need for more parchment, and plans for tomorrow. Halsin kisses you on the forehead, entire being relaxed. You'll sleep squished together like this, encompassed by heat and comfort.

KARLACH

Cuddle supreme. You bet that once that engine is pacified enough to touch that Mama K is all over you like green on grass.

Prior to this, Karlach was sure (if not overly cautious) about maintaining a healthy distance between you. She was excessively worried about setting you ablaze during the night, and often opted to sleep just outside of her tent while you claimed her bedroll inside. Her claims of worry were partially genuine, but she also enjoyed how you left her tent. The smell you lingered on her sheets, and you often left little things behind like a water canteen or a book you'd been reading.

Once her engine was quelled though, the things she imagined could finally come to fruition. You often cuddle facing each other, changing positions like the moon over the sky. Most comfortably, Karlach settles her head under your chin, face pressed up against your neck and chest. Her arms wrap all the way around your middle, her legs crossing over yours. You curl both arms around her head, trying to leave enough room for her to breathe, and use your free hand to run through her hair. When you start gently scratching over her scalp, you get a snoring Karlach in an instant.

You find that you need to leave the tent flap partially open to vent out some of the warmth; even the most frigid nights are no match for Karlach's body heat. With how impossibly close you're smooshed together, there's little room for the cold to find you anyway.

LAEZEL

Given her dedication towards training and being the youngest in the group, it shouldn't be a surprise that Laezel is quite inexperienced when it comes to affection. Before she met you, and even during, quiet intimacy is somewhat foreign. When you first explained what cuddling was, Laezel thought it was some kind of defensive grapple.

When you both settle for the evening, you find yourselves prepping in comfortable silence for the days ahead. Laezel counts rations and sharpens blades. You condition leather and secure packs. Sometimes, she admires you silently as you focus on your tasks. She smiles to herself at your willingness to help, your competence, she feels security in your choosing her as a partner. Once it's time to settle into your bedrolls, you spend a few precious moments facing each other. She grips your hands in hers and studies your face. She stares with such intensity that it's like she's trying to commit every freckle and line to memory forever. There is some truth to this. When she closes her eyes in peaceful moments, she meditates on the things in her life that bring her joy; her accomplishments, her goals, and you, her partner.

Laezel most often sleeps on her back, leaving her more ready to react to ambushes in the night. She refuses to let go of one of your hands though, with you acting as a kind of anchor for her. Laezel's mind is constantly buzzing with what's to come next, reflecting on what's already happened. It's rare, and precious to her, to indulge in quiet moments of care.

MINTHARA

For practical reasons, Minthana rarely falls asleep with her limbs restricted - it's much harder to stab an intruder if one of your arms is cuddled under your lover. A light sleeper, Minthana doesn't mind sleeping on her side with you. She enjoys being the big spoon, and is certain to let you know that it's not solely because of the protective factor as she deems you just as capable as she (though internally, there's certainly a reflexive protective factor at play here).

Before you sleep, Minthana will curl around you, pressing the entire front of her body to your back. She commits your scent to memory, and recalls the days events aloud. You hold one of her hands in both of yours, mostly paying attention. She enjoys the way you massage her hands, rubbing your thumbs against her wrist, testing the sharpness of her nails against your skin.

When it's time to sleep, Minthana untangles from you, laying on her back or side. She likes to know that you're there though, so she crosses one of her legs over yours in some way. Her ankle rests over yours, or your thigh against her hip, or even just your heels touching each other. Enough closeness to feel your presence, enough space to breathe freely.

SHADOWHEART

You and Shadowheart vary your nighttime routines. Most times, you'll be engaging in mutual and self care, reflecting on the day, prayer, and washing. You offer to brush through Shadowheart's hair, carefully working through knots and bumps and smoothing it into something comfortable to sleep in. The feeling sends tingles down her spine, and she shivers like a cat purring, feeling sleepier and sleepier. She, in return, examines your hands. She cleans over them with a warm washcloth, applying healing balms and ointments to your cuts and bruises, filing your nails to shape.

You both spend time setting and resetting your shared bed space. Being adventurers, and with Shadowheart's past, you're used to moving around often. Your bedroll, your belongings, everything is set up ready to pack at a moment's notice. Though, if you take the time you notice small personal touches that make it feel like yours. A dense hairbrush adorned in silver, Shadowheart's. A thick, hand-woven blanket made in fibre native to your home, yours.

When you begin to collapse from exhaustion, more often than not Shadowheart will settle in behind you. You don't mind being the little spoon, indulging in Shadowheart's body heat and mindlessly playing with her fingers in yours. Shadowheart enjoys pressing her face to the back of your neck, sharing your body heat. She feels somewhat protective of you in the night. Quietly, she worries every now and again that something in the dark will take you away forever. You sense that fear sometimes, the way she drifts off in thought before squeezing you a little tighter. It's a feeling you're not unfamiliar with. She falls asleep to the sound of your voice as you tell her of your adventures past. She dreams of your adventures together in the future; this is something you have in common.

WYLL

Wyll enjoys holding you close basically any chance he gets, and bedtime is no exception. You both keep a reasonable distance while doing simultaneous night routines: Wyll polishes and stores your days' weapons, you pack and prep bags for the next day. As you flit past each other, there are subtle passing touches. A lingering glance at your exposed shoulder, the tips of your fingers grazing against his night clothes. Some are less so, you rake your fingers over his hair and horns, pressing your faces together. Or he'll stand behind you as you wipe down your face, body pressed impossibily close to yours. He teases you about the blush that crawls up your neck.

As you lay together, Wyll finds that sleeping on his back with some tactically stacked pillows works best for his horns. You rest your head at his collarbones, holding his hand. It calms you to feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and you never pass up an opportunity to ask him about his seemingly endless adventurous stories. Wyll watches you doodle on his palm, his other hand holds you at your waist, occasionally slipping his hand under your nightshirt to caress your skin.

Lying on your side, you fold your leg over his. You relish in how he squirms slightly depending on where your thigh ends up. Revenge. Most nights, you both fall asleep just like this in each other's embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows and a light blanket, you fall into warmth. Comfort in the night that takes you away from the horrors of the day.

Bonus!

NPCs (Alphabetical)

GORTASH

Routine is something both you and Gortash appreciate but rarely achieve with your busy schedules. If Gortash gets a moment at home, you're out in combat. If you come back at a reasonable hour, he's in meeting after meeting. The one thing you try in earnest to maintain though is a nightly routine when your times do align.

You both debrief and undress, spewing out the stress of the day with little regard for whether it makes sense or how many tangents you go off on. Gortash stands at your back as you sit in front of your vanity. He loosens your hair while you clean your wounds, chuckling about the injuries you'd inflicted in reply. You take Gortash's hand in yours and sit him down on the mattress. You run your fingers over his temples and he melts like snow. His muscles are tight as you massage over his neck, his shoulders, leaving light scratch marks over his skin.

In bed, you both lie on your sides, facing the window. The night sky casts the dimmest light into your room, the air outside is quiet and still. There is respite here. You curl around Gortash's back, spooning him as he clutches your hands tight in his. This is your routine, your normalcy. Here, neither of you are bloodstained, neither are performing. Comfort is a strange and rare indulgence in your plights to take over the world; but whether here in your chambers, in a bedroll camping in the forest, or in a jail cell, it's the one thing you can find in each other.

RAPHAEL

Raphael is fond of studying you, examining every inch, every curve of your being with all the patience in the Hells. He's currently asked you to pose for a portrait, draped loosely along a red velvet chaise while the light of the outside world shines just right over your body. It's difficult to catch your face, your eyes especially, in paint. Raphael finds your eye contact far too inviting to concentrate for another quiet hour, so he ceases.

Placing his brushes down, you sit up and crack your neck. You stretch the stiffness from your limbs and extend your hands out to encourage Raphael to join you. He kicks off his dress shoes, climbing atop you with his knee inbetween your legs. His spine curves as he lowers down, lips brushing over your ear as he embraces you.

With some effort, you wrap your arms around him, smothered by warmth and the faint scent of sulphur. You do get used to it after a while. An open window allows a gentle breeze in the room, slowly drying the paint. The light diffuses through sheer curtains, and it makes you sleepy. Time is confusing and unruly here, but you crave a lazy afternoon (at least, that's how it feels) nap. Stroking the back of Raphael's hair, you relax back and close your eyes. Despite his reservations, Raphael soon joins you. His face stays buried against your neck, every breath embued with your smell. You're surrounded by each other, neither of you especially keen to move away.

ROLAN

Finding a place to sleep in Ramazith's Tower wasn't the difficult part, choosing where to sleep was. For the first few weeks, you and Rolan explored a great depth, you'd never climbed so many stairs and walked so many invisible platforms in your life.

One night, you'd decided rather adventurously to sleep up high on a balcony. You'd made a nest of sorts with Rolan, harvesting pillows and blankets and a mattress. The weather was clear and mild as the sky slowly turned to black. Rolan had set up approximately four hundred fail safes to ensure neither of you would fall in your sleep.

You both huddle down into the swathes of fabric. You remark to Rolan how different this was to the camps you'd slept in when you met him, or the Emerald Grove where he and his siblings had stayed. You face each other, legs interlocking, and Rolan places both hands on either side of your face. He remarks that it's to keep you warm but the air has barely a chill. You shift slightly to point out constellations in the sky, and Rolan's hands move downward and settle at your sides. He plays with the hem of your nightshirt, eyes affixed to wherever you point and gesture. The spell of night overtakes you both, and you fall asleep with your foreheads pressed lightly together.

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waa we did it gamers my first multi character piece!! Originally this was supposed to be a short and sweet dotpoint-style headcanons post but apparently I can't help myself. Because of how many characters there were to write and because I'm me it took a little longer than expected but I'm really happy

I've been committing myself to doing even just a little tiny bit of writing/creative stuff every day (with some gaps obvs I'm only human) and I gotta say it really does help

so if you're reading this, go write something. Or draw, or edit, or whatever but just do a little bit of something today. its good for the soul

take care! :3

[thehistoriccemetery]

Companions React to Reader Sitting on Their Lap

It’s another pretty short one this week, as I’ve had terrible Minthara brainrot and I’ve been able to write nothing but filthy smut 😔

Anyway, this one is some family friendly head canons about the ladies with a bonus Dame Aylin and Isobel!

Shadowheart

Shadowheart doesn’t say anything at first, but you do notice her skin get slightly redder, and you watch a tiny smirk grow across her face.

She’s not typically one for public displays of affection, but something about lap sitting is different.

It’s like affection with plausible deniability. What else was I supposed to do? Sit on the floor?

After you’ve done it once, Shadowheart considers the barrier broken and takes every opportunity to sit on your lap.

Sometimes you think she must have a sixth sense that tells her when you sit down, because she simply appears on your lap.

If you cross your legs or do anything else to prevent her sitting in your lap, she gives you a little cough to let you know you should remedy that as soon as possible.

Depending on who’s around, she’ll sometimes lean back against you, pressing her whole body to yours.

She likes it when you wrap your arms around her and rest your head on her shoulder.

While she prefers to be the one sitting on your lap, she’s still more than happy to let you sit on hers.

Lae’zel

The first time you try sitting on her lap, she pushes you off. Why are you sitting on top of her? Weirdo. You roll your eyes and sit on the ground.

But then she decides that it’s weirder you’re sitting on the ground so she gives you her seat.

But then she doesn’t want to stand anymore. Tsk’va. Whatever. Guess she’s gonna have to sit on you.

Lae’zel only ever sits on your lap, never the other way around. She oddly never picks up on any of the possible implications of that.

If anyone calls Lae’zel a bottom she’s gonna throw hands.

She doesn’t lay up against you or anything. To her this move is strictly practical, or at least she acts like it is.

You let her have it. As far as you’re concerned, you have a lovely girlfriend on your lap so you’re not going to complain.

Karlach

The first time you nonchalantly sit down in Karlach’s lap, she’s so chill and unfazed.

At least, that’s the vibe she’s trying to give off. She can be cool about this. So cool.

It’s less than a minute before her body starts to betray her. Her legs bounce up and down excitedly under you. As soon as you turn to face her, her stoic expression cracks into one of pure delight.

After that, Karlach pulls so many tricks to ask you to sit in her lap without actually having to ask.

Oh no! There’s no more chairs! Wherever will you sit? Looks like it’ll just have to be in her lap again. Ignore those broken chairs hidden in the corner, this isn’t about them.

You catch on pretty fast. Only so many chairs can disappear before things start to get suspicious.

You sit yourself on Karlach’s lap, watching the goofy smile grow across her face. “You know you can just ask, right?”

Her skin flushes and she buries her face in your neck. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately, she’ll never sit on your lap because she’s too afraid to crush you. Even if you’re bigger than her. You’re too precious to risk it.

Minthara

Minthara is always taking up as much space as she desires in any given situation, so it’s not uncommon that she takes up the space of more than one person.

Luckily she’s always got a place for you to sit, whether that be in between her legs or on them.

She’s never bashful about pulling you into her lap, even when there people are around.

If anything, an audience actually encourages her. You are hers, and that is most clear to everyone when you’re perched on her thigh.

Other times she will be slightly more subtle, tapping her inner thigh in a silent invitation, queuing you to join her.

There are very few scenarios in which Minthara will sit on your lap though. At least, in public.

If you try to get her to sit, she’ll shoot you an “I know that you know this isn’t how this works” look, leaving you to let her take your seat and take your position on her lap.

Jaheira

It really depends on the day with Jaheira.

Most days she going to tell you to get an extra chair. There is no need for you to be sitting in her lap right now.

Sometimes, even if there is no extra chair she would have you sit at her feet in front of her before she let you into her lap.

But on those particularly long and hard days, when you come back looking exhausted and beat, she will allow for some extra tenderness.

She’ll gently guide your head to rest on her shoulder or against her chest and stroke your hair.

If you’re in a more comfortable space she will even slide her hand up under your shirt to rub your back.

More often than not, you fall asleep almost instantly, even if everyone around you is still making a ruckus.

She’s still not going to carry you to bed though. You can walk yourself there.

Dame Aylin x Isobel

Isobel is a princess and Dame Aylin is her throne. It’s more common than not the Isobel is on Aylin’s lap.

For Aylin, it’s like displaying a beautiful trophy. She needs everyone to look at her beautiful girlfriend right now.

The notion makes Isobel blush, but she’s just as proud to have Aylin as Aylin is to have her, so she’ll allow it.

Aylin doesn’t sit on Isobel’s lap, nor would she ever allow her to give up her seat, but Aylin will sit at her feet and gaze up at her with awe and wonder while Isobel smiles down at her and runs her hands through the aasimar’s hair.

And Selune forbid there’s no place for Isobel to sit. Aylin would sooner get down on one knee and let Isobel sit on her leg than leave a tired Isobel to stand.

Aylin’s shoulders are also an acceptable option. She can hoist Isobel up there with ease. She’ll never have to walk for any longer than she wishes.

Granted, it makes them like 10 feet tall, so there’s only a few places it’s applicable before Isobel has to be on alert for low hanging obstacles.

[hijackalx]

FEMALE BG3 CHARACTERS EATING OUT F!READER +18

characters included: karlach, shadowheart, lae’zel, minthara

MALE BG3 CHARACTERS

SHADOWHEART

okay i LOVE the idea of overeager inexperienced shadowheart like it’s SO hot……

she’s a little aggressive and all over the place but she DOES NOT CARE 😹😹

she also gives me selfish vibes, so if she’s eating you out she’s doing it solely for her OWN enjoyment LMAO

loves to tell you to hold still or to be quiet, that way when you slip up she can degrade you

“shut up, you sound like a whore” or “squirming already? how pathetic” she is MEAN

will also knead your tits the whole time. not softly either— it will make you gasp and that’s exactly why she does it 😹😹

prefers to have your hands bound above your head so you can’t touch her. she likes seeing how frustrated you get when you can’t pull on her hair/move closer when she teases

will spit on it. and she will hold eye contact with you while you watch as it drips from her mouth onto your pussy

gets SO wet from eating you out

she will reach between her legs every once in a while to touch herself because she gets so worked up

sometimes she’ll get too distracted in her own pleasure and just start whimpering/panting into your pussy

if she doesn’t already finish before you then she’ll IMMEDIATELY want you to return the favor

KARLACH

she aims to PLEASE

you WILL be having a life changing orgasm every time. no 3 second O’s over here baby 😹😹

she can tell when you’re close and adjusts her pace to make you hold off for just a littleee longer (a lot longer)

wishes she could live in between your legs. obsessed with the way you smell and taste so much

likes when you start telling her what to do— she is more than happy to do what you want because of how badly she wants to watch you come apart

grab her by the horns and move her where you want and she’ll moan

will dig her nails (claws?) into your thighs occasionally, not because she wants to hurt you but because she gets so into it

if she leaves marks she’ll make sure to kiss them better 💗

the more of a reaction you give her the more her tail thrashes around excitedly. it has a mind of its own honestly 😹😹

speaks almost exclusively in praise and reassurance. “you’re being so patient for me”, “don’t worry— mama’s gonna take good care of you”

LOVES having your thighs over her shoulders and against her head/ears. also likes that she can feel every involuntary twitch and tremor of your legs on her back

lowkey likes when she can still smell you on her top lip afterwards LMAO 😹😹

MINTHARA

you would think she’d be aggressive and mean but i think she’s lowkey pretty sensual? still very stern though. very much giving mommy dom vibes

EXPERIENCED. she knows what she’s doing and you can tell

will make you BEG !!!!!!

teases you with her tongue until you are whimpering and crying for her. needs to see you fully submit before she gives you what you want

you need to be aware of how lucky you are that she wants to do this. she doesn’t give head to just anyone

will always encourage you to be loud. if she notices that you’re suppressing your voice she’ll pull away— she needs to be able to hear you otherwise she feels like it’s not worth it 😹😹

can be really sweet in subtle ways. will kiss your pussy/inner thighs occasionally or absentmindedly run her thumb over your skin

also if you reach out to hold her hand she’ll give it to you without hesitation

her tone when she talks to you is almost condescending. she thinks it’s kind of pathetic how badly you need her. but she loves it

“your eagerness to give in to me is pitiful”, “you’re a greedy little thing”

sometimes she’ll hum/groan into your pussy with her low, raspy voice and it’s so 😩

will kiss you while/after you come so you taste yourself. with LOTS of tongue

LAE’ZEL

y’all are not going to want to hear this but i get pillow princess vibes from lae’zel LMFAO

i think she defaults to the receiving end so her eating you out is something you have to initiate. she WILL do it though

she has the most perfect, pouty lips for eating pussy. they’re so soft and plump 🥵

LOVES when u pull her hair. she tries to hold back her moans but if you do it enough she’ll eventually give up lol

a glutton for praise— she needs the reassurance that she’s doing a good job. she can’t stand the thought of not being perfect at something 😹😹

will want you to hold your thighs up towards your stomach so you’re as spread open as possible lol. that way she can tease your hole easier. also she just thinks it’s hot

loves the way your thighs look in that position. will run her hands over them a lot. usually pretty roughly

likes to use her fingers while she eats you out too. just overall really handsy

REALLY possessive over your body, but especially your pussy. she seriously worships it

doesn’t really talk a lot, mostly just groaning/growly type noises. will occasionally say something like “you’re mine” or “you belong to me”

gets sooo excited when she can tell you’re about to cum lmao she watches you SO intently with her big doe eyes. she has no idea how cute she looks (don’t tell her or she’ll get flustered 😹😹)

smugly waits for you to tell her how amazing it was afterwards

[sorcerous-caress]

Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

[wysteria-bloom]

↪"you're lucky I...adore you."

Bg3 companions if they've been affected by succubus magic

Bg3 x bard!reader

Warnings : nothing that I can think of.

Genre : fluff, just pure fluff

A/n : still haven't finished this damn game and it's nearly been a year. You don't want to know how many hours I've spent on it I'm genuinely so disappointed in myself 🥲

▢ lae'zel

Gone was her usual stern demeanour, this woman was huffing and puffing to try and hold herself back. Her mouth pulled into a grimace as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her will.

"Tav.... your battle prowess is... most pleasing to witness..." Her eyes were hazy as she leaned down slightly to your level, brows pulled tightly together despite the contrasting words coming from her mouth," Were you a githyanki, I might even consider... taking you as a mate."

You just sort of blink at her, string pulled taught against your finger as you were trying to fix your violin. A slow smile made its way to your lips," ... you're certainly direct." You cooed out, brows raised suggestively as you look her up and down," I'm flattered, really, but perhaps you should save the mating proposals for when you're not under the influence of succubus magic, hm?"

The githyanki huffs, embarrassed but still utterly bewitched, her nostrils flare," usually... a gith would take offense at such a vehement rejection..." Her forehead presses against yours as she frowns deeply," You're lucky I... adore you." She gritted out with much difficulty.

"It was a spell. Nothing more. Forget it happened unless you want to see your innards splattered across the dirt you stand on."

You smirk, pressing your forehead back in response," Lucky, indeed~"

-

"My pretty lips are sealed, milady."

▢ shadowheart

She leans casually against a nearby tree, watching you with that adoring green gaze of hers that she tried to hide underneath her awkwardly mysterious aura.

She listens to the soft tunes you play with your lovely fingers, humming slightly and almost drunkenly," You know.... your music isn't the only thing enchanting about you."

These strangely uncharacteristic words made you pause in your playing, raising a brow up at her in surprise.

She, herself, didn't know what she was saying but she just couldn't stop herself as her lips twitched into a smirk," perhaps we should compose a duet of our own?"

The blatant flirting amused you to no end and a hand shot to your mouth to suppress a laugh," a duet?" You repeated," As memorable of a performance that would be, I think it best for you to sleep off whatever magical nonsense that succubus casted on you."

Shadowheart gave you an incredulous look and tried to play it off, shrugging with a pout," Oh no, this is... all me." She tried, but the words trembled," totally natural."

"... Let's never talk about this again."

"What a ball of charisma you are."

-

"I've already got a tune decided for our duet. No backing out now, little cleric~"

▢ gale

The wizard approaches his dearest bard with his usual theatric flair, but the lines falling from his smart mouth were far more dramatic than usual as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear," your beauty... it's like the stars themselves - unreachable, radiant, and yet somehow, you make even the Weave seem mundane in comparison."

Your hand removes itself from your instrument to pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite your exasperation, you couldn't hide your amusement," Gale... that succubus has broken you. You don't need to keep... weaving poetry to me."

"Ah, but for you, my dear, no spell is required for me to express my-"

You cover his mouth with your hand and you swear you see hearts in his eyes," mhmm, let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Ahem... I maintain that my delivery was impeccable, spell or no."

-

"Didn't make me swoon, however. Maybe you should give it another try."

▢ karlach

You pause in analysing what spells you had when a shadow fell upon you, making you look up slowly to see Karlach's wry grin shining down upon you like the rays of Lathander himself.

Her infernal engine was humming a lot louder than usual, her enthusiasm palpable," look at you, soldier! All studious n' shit." She cooed as she crouched down, but she still towered over you. Her head canted to the side, hair falling wildly along with her," You're hotter than the hellfire burnin' in my chest... and that's saying something."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head with a flush rising to your cheeks. Whether it was because of Karlach's heat or her words? You couldn't tell. You didn't care either.

"That might be the most intense compliment I've ever received... did the spell possessing you come up with a list of pickup lines to read off of? Or is this all just you?"

Karlach's eyes glinted with affection and amusement as she shrugged," all me, babe." She lied before catching herself, looking up at the sky to think,"... or.... uh, the spell." She tapped her chin in thought, brows furrowed," maybe both?"

"Don't hurt yourself, love."

"Tav, you have to admit, the hellfire thing was pretty fuckin' good!"

-

"True... I'd like to hear you say it without slurring your words, this time."

▢ wyll

His confident strides never faltered despite the magic clearly affecting him, his usual charming demeanour was cracked up to tenfold as he leaned forwards to you, a soft little smile spread to his lips.

"You know... your voice could tame a dragon, and your smile could slay a Devil." He took your hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand," let me be your Knight, forever at your side."

You giggle, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and you had to ignore the flip of your heart when he instantly leaned into your touch," Wyll, that's sweet, but I think you're laying it on a little thick here, sweetheart." The pet name made his head buzz," I'm impressed, honestly... did the spell teach you how to swoon like a bard?"

His hand moved to your one resting on his shoulder and squeezed with purpose, brows furrowed with a lovesick grin curled to his lips," no spells required, my love."

You snort," sure, and my lute plays itself."

"I... apologise for whatever nonsense spewed from my mouth. I was merely playing the part, you understand-"

-

"Hmm... nonsense, was it? And I was so looking forwards to you being my Knight. A shame, really."

▢ astarion

A finger twirled your hair as you strummed your instrument absentmindedly, trying to come up with a catchy bar tune.

Astarion was staring hazily, his usual smirk had actually fallen as his crimson eyes glinted,"... did you know your blood smells sweeter than the finest wine?"

You give him a deadpan look, pausing in your strumming to look up at him which immediately prompted for his hand to move to your chin," Astarion... did the spell make you forget how incredibly creepy that sounds?" You grimace.

He blanched at you, a hand pressing to his heart rather dramatically but his eyes were still infatuated with your every crevice and cranny," creepy?? No, no it's a compliment, I'll have you know!" Then he frowned as he thought of his words and quickly added on a," in a vampiric sort of way..."

You snort and grabbed his wrist, rubbing your thumb up and down it gently," let's revisit this topic when you're not spellbound... or thinking about my blood."

"But it's such lovely blood, darling!" He whined only to be interrupted.

"Nope. We're done here."

"Well, I regret absolutely nothing."

-

"That's because the things you said weren't anything out of the ordinary you freak."

▢ halsin

The uncharacteristic sparkle in his eye is what made you pause as he approached with his usual gentle facial expression. He opened his mouth and you were enraptured with every word-

"I was missing you... and found a lily of the valley," he held out the flower cutely, the size of it compared to him made your heart clench. What a pure man he was," they truly remind me of you... delicate, radiant and captivating."

You reached out and gently took the flower from him, cradlingnit as your cheeks flush warmly," You adorable man." You then moved your hand and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, but before you could pull your hand away, he pressed it to his cheek," Halsin... this is lovely but I'd prefer if you did this whilst not being under the influence of a spell. It's turned you into a poet."

He hums, half-listening to you as he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the temperature and feeling of your hand," poet? Not quite... just a humble druid who's helplessly ensared by your otherworldly beauty."

You sigh and smile, shaking your head as you pinch his cheek, grin widening at the displeased groan that he emitted," helplessly ensared, hmm? Well, let's just hope this spell wears off before you start building me a shrine."

He seemed to lift his head at attention when you said that, moving your hand to his chest and pressing it against his beating heart. The serious look in his eyes sent a flutter through your entire body, his voice a low rumble as he leaned close to your face," would you prefer one of oak or stone?"

You grimace but your face was certainly burning," Oh no, it's definitely time for you to snap out of it."

-

"Tav... forgive me if my words earlier were... overzealous. It was the spell, of course, though they were not entirely untrue."

"Not entirely untrue, huh? I'll keep that in mind the next time you're waxing poetic about flowers and shrines."

▢ minthara

Minthara, usually composed and calculating, strides up to you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. However, her voice takes on an unusual softness that left you weak in the knees.

"I believe now is the chance for me to express this... you are a weapon forged by the gods themselves - sharp, striking and impossible to resist." Her deft fingers ran up and down your arms softly, soothingly, hypnotically," Were I to claim you..." Her eyelashes lowered," none would dare challenge us."

You could only blink with that shit eating grin you always took on when you irritate her," That's flattering, Minthara. But you should save this for when you're not enchanted."

Her voice lowered," I do not make declarations lightly, Tav. You belong at my side. Drenched in the blood of our enemies."

"Whoo... at your side, huh?" You liked the images she created," what, no throne or crown to sweeten the deal?"

God, the smirk that twitched to her lips was utterly mind boggling. You wished you could sew her mouth to permanently stay that way," Oh... there would be both. Gold and blood, in your honour."

You coughed out a reluctant," I'll pass for now, thanks."

-

"Whatever foolishness I said under the spell - forget it. I would not waste words on such sentimentality."

"Of course not, Minthara. The throne and crown offer was purely strategic, I'm sure."

[vibingandsimping]

More random intimate positions/scenarios! Pt.2

Morally grey/villain characters this time!

Forewarnings: Dark content… including things like ownership, stalking, gore + obsession. Some pure fluff though :)

(I apologize for this being considerably longer compared to the others. I have been playing some more plus researching the lore. I feel more confident in my understanding of the characters and my writing.)

Gortash had his fingers wrapped around your chin as he beckoned you to look at him. You’re sat in his lap with your hands rested atop his shoulders. His expression is content with how closely pressed you are to his body. He could savor your warmth and read you so intimately. His brown eyes meet yours with a certain warmth laced in all the unwavering dominance. His lips quirk into a smirk as he watches your poorly built facade begin to crumble. His spare hand runs along the small of your back slowly… beckoningly. He'd be the hero of Baldurs Gate soon. He'd have all the power he dreamt of as a boy. Don't you wish to share that with him? His chest purrs when you keen into his touch. Good. He knew you could be a pretty thing for him. Such a formidable foe and he’d have you right by his side.

Minthara had her arms wrapped around your frame protectively. No matter how large or small you were in comparison. She was determined to hold you and plant some sort of reassurance into you. The way she regarded you was not that of any other. No, you were special to her and the woman realized it may not be so clear. She may be a cruel and a standard "drow", but beyond that there was an affection for you within her heart. She plants a kiss against the back of your shoulder-blades and it draws a shudder. Her muscles tighten around you as she presses her face into your shoulder, hot breath washing the junction of your neck and the flesh of your shoulder. You resist a second shudder. Unbeknownst to you, she’d follow you even if it was fruitless. Nothing was shaking her now that she was wrapped around you.

Orin's blade travels down your chest. It was gentle yet sharp... she wasn't particularly aiming to harm you but the thin streak of blood was enticing. The wound was so shallow it barely bubbled- just enough to alert her she broke the skin. Everything about the way she gazed at you was unhinged. You knew if she had pupils they'd be dilated. She draws her face downwards and laps at the tender flesh while you draw a shaky inhale. The whispers of praise and wishes for more barely reached your ears beyond the thrum of your heart. The slimy feel of her tongue worming it’s way up to your collarbones hitch your breath and you watch carefully. Each movement breeds more anticipation- she was soaking in your torment. She was wicked, truly, she devoted herself to you. You’d never understand her… but did you have to?

Ketheric’s hand laced with yours as you walked to his side. He was laid on his throne with open thighs as he acknowledged your presence. The man was aged and once a father. Well, technically still but Isobel regarded him with disowning. He long burned that bridge from his desperation and despair. You entered his life and turned things around. Everyone in Moonrise had never seen him so soft since he lost his daughter and wife. You took a seat on one of his thighs as he drew your hand to his face. His lips planted a gentle kiss on the back of your hand and then along your wrist. His beard tickled and caused you laugh, struggling against his hold as he stubbornly refused to let you go. When he finally did his lips were quirked upwards and there was a twinkling in his eye. He never thought he’d take a lover again… so he was glad when you broke down his walls. He’d once curse you for being persistent but now he’d praise you for it.

Raphael tugs on the invisible leash that was wrapped around your neck. You jerk forward on the bed as you kneeled with palms balancing you on the lush fabric. His wings were on grand display as his typically slicked hair tussled ever so slightly. Expression dark and expectant as you slowly crawled toward him. His brows furrowed as he tutted impatiently, a leg swinging out to hook around your thigh and jerk it underneath you. You collapsed as he drew you towards him with little patience. You now sprawled across his lower abdomen and crotch as his chest rumbles in amusement. Your skin burned with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. The hold he had on you, literally and figuratively, elicited a deep part of your brain. One that wished so carnally to be claimed… to be owned. Raphael would see to that, he promised, with one hand stroking your hair. You were such a sweet thing… and if you weren’t so persistent he’d lock you up for himself.

Kar’niss thought of you as a blessing. Truly, a drider like him didn’t deserve such an angel. He was supposed to be punished for all eternity for his shortcomings. He failed once and will never see to being a normal drow again. That’s why it didn’t make sense for him to be rewarded- but who is he to look at a gift with ungratefulness? He always holds you so tenderly… his body shockingly cold. He’s restless today, you note, as his eight legs skitter and his hands curl at you. There’s a flittering look in his face. A hunger he tried to conceal. When you question, he answers truthfully, drider need to feed on blood to survive. Every four days or he’d succumb to weakness and eventually die an empty husk. You offer yourself and he checks you for any hesitancy before diving in. He pierces the flesh with his sharp nails before indulging in the crimson that flowed. Between suckles and licks, he praises you for your generosity. Endless ‘thank you’s’ flow as much as your blood. He’s sure he’d never fallen deeper in love… or was it infatuation?

Haarlep knew their affection for you was essentially forbidden. Raphael handed you as a toy to them. Nothing more and nothing less- they should regard you only for his entertainment. They somehow found themselves wanting to indulge in your mind rather than your flesh after some time. It was your softness that first stunned them and foiled their pure-desire. Raphael never touched themself with such… they could barely find the word. Gentleness? Regard? They’d lay with you after your shared bliss and inch their nails down the side of your hip as you detailed your life. With a hand propping their head; they seemed enchanted. Mesmerized by how simple yet complex of a creature you were to them. Haarlep was a succubus and spent their life serving that purpose. They almost felt jealous of the freedom you held in life. They couldn’t help but find themselves fantasizing a life where you two lived in better circumstances. It was all a fantasy, though, they knew it with a bittersweetness.

Durge had always watched you from afar. Stalking, following and admiring. You caught their gaze amongst the crowd as they deliberately chose their next victim. You would’ve been easy. You didn’t hold yourself with a particular air in the ranks of Baldur’s Gate. Another citizen lost to the crazed killings of a maniac. It wasn’t until you’d noticed you had a secret admirer did your hackles raise. You could feel a pair of eyes on you at the most inopportune times. Then, came the letters at your doorstep detailing how they defied their nature. You could’ve been another hung corpse but instead they wished to wrap their mind around your heart and their lips amongst your neck. A shiver ran through you… a mix of disgust and a strange intrigue? Surely it was the way the letters were so detailed and deranged. You would’ve ignored it all until the stalking emboldened. You saw their figure in the window at night and through the alleyways. It was only a matter of time before they struck and claimed you as theirs. You’d simply have to keep an eye over your shoulder and hold a dagger close. If you could even strike them, that was.

[demigoddessqueens]

Hi! S9 hopefully your request is open

Pleayd do bg3 witg the like main crew (astarion, gale, karlach, wyll, halsin, shadowheart) and gorthas and minthara

Someone threatibg/attempting to hurt or kill reader and their reaction

Please and thank you 🫶🫶

Heyy Bianca!! 💕

Masterlist 11

Astarion

Everything is happening in slow motion and so fast all at once, but the next thing the vampire remembers is your attacker motionless on the ground. He’s shaking with those ragged breaths and thousand yards stare but it immediately diminishes as soon as he sees you’re safe.

Gale

You see a bright orb of magic summoned against your attacker and then they are no more. Gale is breathless but trying to stay calm, for your and his sake, as he frantically looks you over before pulling you into a hug

Karlach

A raging war cry and axe sunken into your enemy fills you with an adrenaline rush of relief.

“Soldier!! Stay with me! It’s not time for us to know defeat!”

Wyll

He’s skilled with a sword and doesn’t hesitate to dispatch the one who dares attack you. Immediately runs to your side to see if you’re injured

Halsin

You’ve rarely seen a temper get the best of him but the Druid doesn’t hesitate for a second to maul and render those who wish his flower harm. Even in your shaken state, he gathers you protectively in his arms

Shadowheart

Like the avenging angel cleric warrior she is, you can only watch in amazement as your fearless lover defends you in battle, only offering a gentle smile at the first sign you’re safe

Gortash

He’s no longer the dignified individual he once thought himself, all the decorum and dignity stripped away into a fury of a man who has clawed and maimed every inch of the person who tried to get you

Minthara

She is fierce and bloody and protective of you, and this extends as well to exacting her vengeance against some plebe who charges at you

Tries to make light of the situation in a way, “you’re not getting rid of me that fast yet”

[smolweeblets]

𝐒/𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬:

Featuring headcanons for Karlach, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, and Minthara.

Karlach: 

You two lay in Karlachs tent, winding down for the day. She lay on her back while you were cuddled closely to her side, your head resting just on top of her shoulder.   Her eyes are shut in bliss. She absolutely could stay like this forever, she thinks. Youre so soft, so warm, so cute and so… 

… Sharp? 

She opens her eyes to see you with a portion of the exposed skin on her chest between your teeth. It didnt hurt at all, but it did cause her to curiously raise a brow.

You immediately latch off and apologise, explaining your little quirk. 

“Awh soldier, that is adorable! Youre like lil cat!”

*Cue suffocating her with a pillow*

You scowl and turn to tuck your head into her shoulder. 

“Awwe, its okay love, you can bite me all you want, its cute!” 

Lae’zel: 

It was one of the rare nights Lae’zel indulges you with cuddles and a surge of raw emotion from the sheer domesticity you felt took over you. Unfortunately, the easiest outlet proved to be your teeth clamping down gently onto the thick skin of Lae’zels bicep. 

She immediately moves away and assumes a defensive stance–rather, the best she could do while still laying on the floor. 

You profusely apologise and explain what you were doing.

“Chk. I almost thought that lousy vampire had turned you into one of his.” 

After thorough reassurance, she seemed to trust that you were in fact, not a vampire and didnt want to drain her dry. Not that you could, even if you tried.

“I suggest issuing a warning before making another attempt in the future. I would not want to endanger you. Peculiar habits aside.” 

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart played with your hair as you were splayed on top of her, the pressure on her body serving as a soothing reprieve from her own mind. 

She just shut her eyes and was about to nod off until she feels you shift. And then feels the sharp pain of your teeth on her shoulder.

She opens her eyes and is met with your own widened in shock. 

You look at her guiltily and stumble through an apology before starting to slide off of her in fear of her being mad at you.

She grabs you and scoffs. “Stay. A little nibble is hardly cause for me to want you to leave.” 

Minthara:

Minthara enjoyed having you like this. Your head resting on her lap as she read a book she stole from some poor merchant.

You look up and see her hands. The way they held the book from your angle seemed all too enticing…

Of course, you end up snapping at them only to immediately let go and apologise.

Minthara sneered. “Pathetic. If you must bite, there's no reason you should be holding back. You must always commit. Tender moment or otherwise.” 

She wears your bitemarks like badges of honor.

A/n: Im proud of the dialogue. I think I captured them well. This fits really well as a Durge reader but I just wrote this as a self insert for my weird bitey tendencies

[happysparklingshadows]

𝙱𝙶𝟹 𝙻𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚜 ✿ 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚁𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎

Lae’zel 

-Lae’zel wakes up as soon as dawn sets in the sky in the morning. She is usually the first person at camp to wake up and is careful not to wake you up when you lie beside her. 

-Lae’zel works out and warms her body up for the battles ahead. She is very intense about her morning workout to stretch her body and to have her mind focused, as you found out when you tried to have some quick morning sex 

-She likes to sharpen her swords and the others' weapons in the morning before you all go out to fight, but she waits until another person is out and about. She doesn’t want to wake everyone up with her grinding, but she doesn’t mind if someone else is awake. To her, this means everyone needs to wake up. 

-Lae’zel has a bad habit of not eating unless you come up to her with food. She is now used to being a baby in that way by you, and she loves to have her breakfast done by you. None of the food on this plane tastes right, but some of the food you spent on it is delicious. Her tell of not liking something would be her face softly twisting with displeasure, but when she eats your food, her face stays natural with an occasional eye close to savor the food.

-Lae’zel doesn’t like the water in faerún and doesn’t like bathing that much. She would clean her face and neck, parts that smelled, and continue her day with her war paint from two weeks ago. She will touch up her makeup in the morning with more coal on her eyes and comb out the tangles in her hair, then rebraids them,�� but she doesn’t worry much about her appearance.

-Lae’zel gets her energy straight for the day before she does anything else; she wants to be as focused and steady as possible. 

-Her eyes soften when you walk out of the tent later that morning, and she stops her fighting with the dummy to grab your wrist softly. She pulls you into a kiss quickly before letting you off for your morning. 

Karlach 

-Karlach loves to sleep in. And is usually the last one to wake up in camp. She buries her head in the crook of your neck in the morning to cuddle closer to your body, and she whines when she is urged out of the bedroll.

-She slowly gets out of bed and dresses for the day. She typically still sits on her bedroll when you come to her with her breakfast.

-She likes to eat breakfast with you in her lap; she smiled weakly as she holds her bowl and waits for you to sit. She doesn’t touch her meal until you are securely in her lap. Then, she happily munched down the food and had energy for the rest of the morning.

-She usually springs up from food and gets dressed. 

-Like Lae’zel, Karlach works out and stretches in the morning but more leisurely. She does less but enough for the day ahead, and she stretches typically throughout the day with her little energy-surged dances. 

-She combs her hair and cleans her face every morning. Karlach doesn’t care about her appearance, but she hates going out looking dirty and bloody. She wanted to be seen as more friendly than threatening, which was complicated for her significant form. 

-She smiles at you coyly as you walk around the camp to talk to your other companions, but her eyes pull you over to her. You smile at her when you approach her, your hands resting on her waist as you look up at her, “How are you doing?” You ask with a peck to her lips. She would sigh deeply as her eyes drank you in like the most beautiful piece of art, “Just fine, soldier.” 

Shadowheart 

-Shadowheart is very graceful when she wakes up. Her hair is unbraided, and her face is clean because she cleaned it the night before. She usually wakes up from the sun hitting her eyes as she cuddles into your back. She kisses your shoulder as she rises from the bedroll. The only thing she isn’t graceful about is that she hates being awake when you are asleep. She usually wakes you up as soon as she does. Either by kisses and her touch or her soft words to wake up.

-Shadowheart takes time in the morning to do her hair and likes to put on light makeup for the day. She sits infront of the mirror each morning and takes her time as she combs the long locks of hair, root to tip, and softly braids them down the middle of her crown. She puts on some eyeliner and lip stain before leaving the tent. She was generally worried about her appearance as much as her day-to-day allowed, and she wanted to have it to have a sense of identity. 

-Although she doesn’t mind getting her food, it has been a routine for you to get her breakfast as she does her hair, and Shadowheart always smiles at you through her mirror as she finishes placing her charms in her hair. 

-Shadowheart starts her day after getting dressed and ready. She prays on her knees. She closes her eyes in meditation and takes a good 45 minutes before she feels ready to prepare for the day. 

-She giggles at the kisses to the back of her neck as she meditates. She giggles to you, “Stop! Go away!” And you laugh as you leave her to continue her process. 

-Shadowheart was usually the first person to be out and about in the morning with you, and she likes to chat with everyone to get a sense of what kind of day it would be. 

-Shadowheart is a morning bird and thrives in the early morning, and she prides herself on getting things done proactively throughout the day. And potions or items crafted they are done by time it’s 10:30 with her. 

Minthara 

-Minthara hates mornings with every fiber of her being and doesn’t like how the sun hits her skin. She loathes the fact she has to face this unfamiliar feeling every day and knows its heat when all she wanted was to feel the cold dampness of the Underdark again. 

-So, in the morning, Minthara tends to be inside her tent and come out when needed. However, she wakes up every day at dawn because it is sensitive to her eyes in the morning unless she has a sleeping mask over her eyes. She doesn’t move from the bed until you start stirring in the morning, and she softly kisses your head before she rises for the god-forsaken day. 

-Minthara doesn’t spend too much time on her appearance in the morning because she doesn’t have to 💅✨. She doesn’t do much outside of cleaning her body and putting her white strands in a messy bun. She is just a natural girl. When the mood is right, she will take a full bath and soap before the others wake up. 

-Minthara likes to make her poisons for the day. At this time, she has a smile on her face as she thinks of her enemies falling due to her poison entering their bloodstream

-Minthara doesn’t react when you give her breakfast and continues creating her poisons. She eats when she is done and clean of it all. 

-Minthara comes up behind you as you get dressed in the morning with her lips behind your ear, “Get ready. We’re about to head out.” Her raspy voice caresses you as you lean back to her front. She stands strong and proud behind you; you say as you lean back to kiss her jaw, “Alright, Minthara. I am coming.”

-Minthara kisses your lips and firmly pats your ass, “Good.” She moves away from you with her hands together behind her back, stealing one more glance at your backside.

[moonselune]

origin companions + halsin with a durge reader who's scared of hurting them? :3

Aweeeeeeeee yeee I love me some hurt/comfort

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You found yourself lying next to Karlach one quiet night in camp, the usual contentment you felt in her presence haunted by a gnawing fear you could no longer ignore. Your hand rested on hers, calloused from years of battle yet infinitely gentle as she held you close. But even her warmth couldn’t quell the dark, twisting urges that had been growing inside you, lingering at the edges of your mind like shadows waiting to pounce.

As Karlach’s breathing slowed into a soft rhythm, you could feel the tension within yourself mounting, your fingers twitching in your lap as you struggled to keep the darkness at bay. The more time you spent with her, the more desperately you wanted to stay by her side, but the very core of you, the blood that coursed through your veins, pulsed with the hunger for violence—a birthright you couldn’t escape.

Finally, with a resigned sigh, you sat up, unable to bear the silence any longer. Karlach stirred, her eyes opening to find you gazing off into the distance, lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind, love?” she murmured, voice tender as she reached up to cup your cheek, her thumb grazing softly along your skin.

You closed your eyes, leaning into her touch, feeling her strength and warmth, wishing you could be whole enough to deserve it.

“Karlach,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the words build up in your throat, thick and heavy. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve tried to keep hidden.”

She sat up, her attention fully on you, brows knitted with concern.

“You can tell me anything,” she reassured you, her hand squeezing yours as if she could somehow tether you to her strength. “Whatever it is, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

But that’s exactly what terrified you. You opened your mouth, hesitating, afraid that once you voiced it, it would become real, a truth you couldn’t unburden from yourself. But the worry in her gaze and the trust she’d placed in you made it impossible to keep hiding.

“I’m scared, Karlach,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Scared that one day, all this darkness inside me… that I might lose control and—” The words faltered, and you swallowed, forcing them out. “That I might hurt you.”

Karlach’s expression softened, and she placed a steadying hand on your shoulder, grounding you in her calm.

“Darling,” she said, her voice a quiet balm against your fraying nerves. “We’ve faced hell and back together, quite literally. And I’ve seen what’s in here.” She placed a hand over your heart, her gaze fierce and unwavering. “And I know it’s a good heart. Better than most.”

Her words stirred something in you, but the fear remained.

“There’s a part of me that wants to give in,” you said, struggling to keep your voice even. “A part that whispers how easy it would be to let go, to let the bloodlust take over… You wouldn’t be safe from that, Karlach. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to stop it.”

Karlach’s hand moved from your shoulder to your cheek, guiding your gaze back to hers. Her eyes, so full of fire and compassion, searched yours, unwavering.

“Listen to me,” she said firmly, her tone gentle but unyielding. “You are stronger than whatever darkness is inside you. I’ve seen that strength in every fight, in every choice you’ve made. You’re not your blood, love. You’re you.”

Her words cut through the dread tightening in your chest, and you felt something break inside, like a wound you hadn’t realized was there finally being tended. But as her fingers traced reassuring patterns against your skin, you couldn’t help but voice the other fear that had been haunting you.

“I don’t want to put you in danger,” you admitted, voice thick. “The idea of being close to you, of letting myself love you completely—it terrifies me.”

Karlach smiled, a sad, beautiful thing that held no trace of fear. “If you push me away, I’ll still be in danger. Out there, fighting, facing whatever madness this world throws at us. But if I’m by your side, at least I know who I’m fighting for. Who I’m protecting. And who’s protecting me.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to respond, too afraid that any answer would break this fragile moment. But Karlach didn’t need words. She pulled you into her embrace, her warmth surrounding you, her fingers tracing soothing circles along your back as she held you close.

“Promise me something,” she murmured into your hair, her voice a steady anchor. “When the darkness feels too heavy, when the blood feels like it’s pulling you down—come to me. Let me help shoulder it. Don’t carry it alone.”

Her words settled over you like a shield, the terror slowly easing under the weight of her trust. You nodded, unable to speak, letting yourself melt into her hold, feeling the burden lighten just enough to breathe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The moonlight cast a pale glow over the camp, deepening the shadows of the trees around you as the night grew quiet and still. You sat by the fire, watching its embers flicker, your mind a tangle of thoughts and emotions too knotted to untangle alone. Tonight, you couldn’t shake the growing, gnawing worry that tightened its grip on your chest. The violent urges within—the dark whispers that surfaced when you were cornered, angry, or simply still too long—felt closer than ever, and the very thought of losing control with Minthara nearby made you shiver.

It was a rare vulnerability, one you hadn’t planned to let show, but Minthara was sharp. When she finally settled down beside you, her piercing gaze fixed on you, she noticed the tension in your shoulders, the distant look in your eyes.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked, brow furrowing with a hint of impatience. She wasn’t one for sugarcoating her concern.

You hesitated, not sure if you could put into words the fear that had been clawing its way up from somewhere dark within you. The silence stretched until you finally forced yourself to speak, voice barely above a whisper.

“I… worry, Minthara,” you began, and she raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by your tone alone.

“Worry?” she scoffed, leaning back with a half-smirk. “What are you, mortal?”

But you held her gaze, your own look unyielding, and she gradually registered the seriousness etched into your face.

“I’m worried I might hurt you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “These urges, this… darkness inside me—sometimes I feel it would be so easy to lose myself to it.”

Minthara stilled, the humor gone from her eyes. She narrowed her gaze, searching your face.

“You think you’re dangerous to me?” She sounded half-amused, half-intrigued, as though the thought were a new challenge rather than a cause for alarm. “I know you’re dangerous, but to me?” She shook her head dismissively, as though the idea were ridiculous.

“No, Minthara. I mean it,” you said, your voice firmer this time. “What if it’s stronger than me one day? What if it’s stronger than… than us?”

There was a pause as the weight of your confession settled between you. For a moment, Minthara’s hardened expression softened, only a flicker, before her fierce eyes met yours again.

“If it’s any consolation,” she said, voice lowered to a dangerous murmur, “I’d kill you long before you laid a hand on me in malice.”

You let out a shaky breath, and though her words were grim, you knew they were a promise—one she’d keep if it ever came to it. There was comfort in her unflinching resolve, in the certainty that Minthara would not hesitate to cut you down if you became a danger to her. But it was still hard to believe she’d understand the battle raging within you.

Minthara held your face firmly in her hands, forcing you to look her directly in the eye.

“I’ve faced darker things than you, and I chose you,” she said, her voice quiet yet fierce. “You aren’t the only one who knows the dark, and you’re certainly not the only one who knows how to control it.”

Her touch steadied you, a calming balm against the tempest you felt within. You took a deep, shuddering breath, grounding yourself in the solidity of her hands against your skin.

“You’ll have to trust that I know what I’m doing,” she said with an air of finality, almost daring you to argue. And you knew she meant it: she would see through whatever lay ahead, by your side or against you if need be. But you could feel the strength in her assurance, the way her words wove around you like armor, and the whisper of your own doubts grew a little quieter.

Still, Minthara didn’t pull away. She stayed close, her gaze intense as she searched your face.

“I don’t need you to hide what you are from me,” she murmured. “Only a coward would. And you…” She leaned forward, brushing her lips softly against your cheek, a rare tenderness in the gesture. “You’re no coward.”

Her confidence filled a quiet part of you, a place that only Minthara could reach. And for the first time that night, you found yourself almost able to believe that maybe her blood would not decorate your hands.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The night was quiet and still, save for the distant rustle of leaves and the crackling of the campfire. Its warm light flickered over Lae'zel's sharp features as she rested beside you, eyes half-closed, her usual intense demeanor softened by a rare, momentary relaxation. But your mind was restless, weighed down by shadows you could barely voice.

You watched her, feeling the gentle pull of affection—and something darker. That gnawing, dark urge was a reminder of your bloodline, a whisper at the back of your mind that seemed to grow louder with every passing day. Each time you felt the pull of the violent, savage instincts that Bhaal had woven into you, you fought to suppress them. But tonight, the struggle felt heavier, too close to the surface. You could feel a deep-seated fear forming in your chest: the fear that one day, you wouldn’t be able to contain it. And if that day came, would you be able to keep her safe?

Finally, you couldn’t bear it any longer. The words slipped out, breaking the silence between you, quieter than you’d intended. "Lae'zel… I need to tell you something."

She looked up, the piercing gaze of her amber eyes meeting yours. Even in this vulnerable moment, there was no judgment in her expression—only curiosity, perhaps the smallest hint of concern.

"Speak then," she replied, her voice firm but encouraging.

You hesitated, unsure where to start, then took a deep breath, staring into the campfire’s flickering flames as you began.

"Sometimes, I feel this… darkness inside me. A hunger for violence that runs deeper than mere anger. It’s been part of me since I was born, and most days, I can hold it back. But with you, Lae'zel…” You paused, words catching in your throat. “I worry I might lose control. And I couldn't bear it if I… if I hurt you."

For a moment, there was silence. She studied you, her expression unreadable, and you began to fear the worst—that she might recoil or mock your weakness. But then, she spoke, her voice surprisingly gentle, though edged with her usual sharpness.

"Do you think I am some delicate flower, trembling at the thought of a little bloodshed?" she said, almost scoffing. “Or do you think I have not already noticed the darkness in you?” She shook her head slightly, her gaze steady and unafraid.

“It’s not that,” you stammered, struggling to make her understand. “You may be a warrior, fierce and unbreakable. But this is different. This isn’t sparring or combat—it’s… primal, uncontrollable. If I ever lost myself fully, it wouldn’t matter who was in front of me. I’d be nothing but a tool for death.”

Lae'zel’s eyes narrowed, but she did not pull away. Instead, she leaned closer, placing a strong, calloused hand on your arm, grounding you.

“You listen to me,” she said, her voice low, unwavering. “You fear harming me because of this ‘darkness,’ yes? Yet you know this about yourself. You fight it even now, holding back when others would simply give in.” She paused, her hand tightening around your arm. “But you must understand something about me as well. I am no stranger to violence. I have walked among enemies all my life, and I have bested warriors twice my size. I am no frail creature, and I am not afraid of you.”

Her words sent a jolt through you, her confidence in you both humbling and terrifying. She didn’t understand fully—not yet.

“But what if one day… I’m not me anymore?” you asked, your voice breaking slightly. “What if all that’s left is Bhaal’s influence?”

She smirked at that, and a strange fire sparked in her gaze. “

Then you will know that I would face you without hesitation. I would be ready, blade in hand, to meet whatever you became and bring you to heel.” There was a fierce pride in her words, and though her response was blunt, it was laced with a loyalty that softened your fear, at least for now.

Lae'zel pulled you closer, her grip firm, and rested her forehead against yours, the gesture as intimate as any words she could have spoken.

“Do not insult me by assuming I am weak enough to be afraid of you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

With that, the tension you’d been carrying in your chest began to ease. Lae'zel would never see you as a threat; she would face you if she had to, but not with fear. Only resolve. Only love.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The moon hung low, casting silver light over the camp, as the others drifted into their tents or found their places by the fire for the night. You sat on a boulder near the edge of the clearing, staring into the surrounding darkness. The shadows felt more alive than they should, twisting and coiling, whispering at the edges of your thoughts. You clenched your fists, trying to still the trembling in your hands.

The violent urges had been growing stronger lately. A restlessness clawed at your soul, begging to be let out, and it terrified you. Your bloodline—Bhaal’s taint—felt like a curse you could no longer contain. You thought of Shadowheart, her quiet strength and sharp wit, the way her voice softened when she spoke to you alone. You loved her with a ferocity that frightened you, and it was that love that made everything worse. If you ever lost control, what would stop you from hurting her?

You didn’t hear her approach until she was standing beside you. Shadowheart had a way of moving silently, as if she were part of the shadows themselves. She sat next to you, her presence grounding but still leaving you on edge.

“You’ve been distant,” she said softly, her gaze studying your profile. “I know something’s troubling you. I can see it.”

You couldn’t meet her eyes, staring instead at the ground.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, but the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Shadowheart wasn’t fooled. She reached out, her hand brushing yours.

“You’re not fine,” she said, a quiet insistence in her voice. “I can feel it. Please… talk to me.”

Her gentle concern was enough to break the fragile wall you’d built around your emotions. You exhaled shakily, your voice trembling as you spoke.

“Shadowheart, I… I don’t know if I can do this. Every day, it gets harder to keep it all in check. The bloodlust, the urges—they’re stronger than ever. It’s like there’s something inside me, clawing to get out. And I’m terrified of what will happen if I can’t stop it.”

She watched you intently, her expression unreadable, and you pressed on, the words pouring out now.

“You’re everything to me, Shadowheart. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. And that’s what makes it worse. What if one day, I lose control? What if I hurt you? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened.”

The silence that followed felt unbearable. You risked a glance at her, expecting—dreading—judgment or fear in her eyes. But instead, there was understanding, and something even deeper. Shadowheart took your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers.

“You think I haven’t seen what you struggle with?” she asked quietly. “I’ve seen the way you fight it, the way you hold yourself back, even when everything in you screams to let go. That takes strength most people couldn’t dream of.”

You tried to pull your hand away, shaking your head. “Strength only lasts so long. One slip is all it takes.”

She held on tighter, refusing to let you retreat into yourself. “Then I’ll be there to stop you. I’ve been in darkness before—I know what it’s like to fight something that feels bigger than you. You’re not alone in this, and you don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, a mixture of hope and guilt threatening to overwhelm you. “But what if—what if you’re not enough? What if one day, I…”

Shadowheart placed a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Stop. Listen to me. If I were afraid of you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re not defined by the darkness in you, no matter what your bloodline says. You’re more than that. And if you lose your way, I’ll be there to pull you back. Always.”

The certainty in her voice was enough to break something inside you. Tears welled up, unbidden, and you quickly wiped them away, ashamed of your weakness. But Shadowheart cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“It’s okay to feel this way,” she said softly. “It’s okay to lean on someone else. You’ve been carrying this burden alone for too long.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe her. You leaned into her touch, letting her warmth chase away the cold that had taken root in your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Shadowheart pulled you into an embrace, her arms strong and steady around you.

“We’ll face this together,” she murmured against your hair. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore.”

And in that moment, with her holding you as if she’d never let go, the weight on your soul felt just a little bit lighter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The camp was still, cloaked in the soft, silvery light of the moon. Most of your companions were asleep, save for the faint sounds of someone shifting in their tent or the occasional crackle of the dying fire. You sat apart from the others, your hands trembling slightly as you stared into the flames, the warmth doing little to chase away the cold knot of fear in your chest.

You had been feeling it for weeks now—this creeping, gnawing sensation at the edges of your mind. It wasn’t just anger or frustration. It was something deeper, darker. The whispers of your lineage clawed at your resolve, a constant reminder of the bloodline you couldn’t escape. Being Bhaalspawn wasn’t just a title; it was a curse, a tether to violence and death. And it was becoming harder to ignore.

The thought of hurting someone—hurting her—gnawed at your mind like a sickness. Jaheira, with her calm strength and unwavering compassion, had become your anchor, your light in this shadowed existence. But what if the darkness inside you grew too strong? What if you slipped? What if, in a moment of weakness, she got caught in the storm of your own making?

The thought alone made you sick.

You didn’t realize how tightly you were gripping your hands until you heard a voice behind you. “You’ve been brooding for hours now. Even I can’t meditate with the weight of it pressing on the air.”

You turned to see Jaheira stepping toward you, her expression unreadable. In the dim light, her silver-streaked hair glimmered, and her green eyes seemed to pierce straight through you. She was dressed for rest, her usual armor replaced by simpler clothing, though she still carried the air of a warrior—always poised, always ready.

“Jaheira,” you said, your voice catching slightly. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. I—”

She waved a hand, cutting you off as she settled beside you on the ground. “Enough of that. What is it, truly? You’ve been distant. Distracted. I’ve faced enough troubled souls in my time to recognize one sitting before me now.”

You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. But this was Jaheira. If anyone deserved the truth, it was her.

“I’m scared,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Not for me. For you.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, but she said nothing, letting you continue.

“I feel it growing inside me,” you said, gesturing vaguely toward your chest. “The violence. The urges. The part of me that… that isn’t really me. I can control it most days, but lately…” You swallowed hard. “I’m terrified, Jaheira. What if one day I lose control? What if I hurt you? I couldn’t—”

Your voice broke, and you looked away, ashamed of the tears pricking at your eyes. Jaheira was silent for a long moment, and you braced yourself for her response. Would she push you away? See you as a threat? End you there and then?

Instead, she reached out and placed a hand on your knee, grounding you with her steady presence.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice firm but kind. “I have faced Bhaalspawn before. Many of them. Some sought redemption; others embraced the darkness willingly. I have seen what your kind is capable of—both the good and the evil.”

Your stomach twisted at her words, but she tightened her grip, forcing you to meet her gaze.

“And you,” she continued, her green eyes blazing with conviction, “are not one of those who revel in chaos and blood. I see you fighting it, every day. I see the way you hold back, even when it would be easier to let go. That alone sets you apart.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice raw. “What if I fail?”

Jaheira’s expression softened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a gentle murmur.

“Then I will be here to remind you of who you are. To pull you back, if I must. And if it ever comes to it, if you truly lose yourself…” She paused, her hand brushing against yours. “I will stop you before you can hurt anyone else.”

The weight of her words settled over you, both reassuring and sobering. You knew Jaheira was not one to make empty promises. If she said she would stop you, she meant it. And in some strange way, that knowledge gave you a sense of peace.

“You’re not afraid of me?” you asked quietly, searching her face for any sign of hesitation.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“Afraid of you? Hardly. I’ve faced demons, dragons, and gods themselves. Do you truly think I’d falter in the face of one stubborn Bhaalspawn?” Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “You give yourself too much credit.”

Despite yourself, you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest easing ever so slightly.

Jaheira’s smile softened, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead gently against yours.

“You are stronger than you realize, my love,” she murmured. “And you are not alone in this. I will stand by you, no matter what comes. Do you understand?”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the gratitude swelling in your chest. For the first time in weeks, the darkness within you seemed to quiet. It was still there, a part of you that would never fully go away. But with Jaheira by your side, it would at least lessen.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The night was quiet, the campfire burning low as the stars shimmered above like scattered shards of broken glass. Gale sat across from you, absorbed in his spellbook, his brow furrowed in concentration as the flickering light played over his features. You watched him silently, your heart heavy with the weight of thoughts you could no longer suppress.

The darkness inside you had been growing louder—whispers of violence and chaos scratching at the edges of your mind. Being Bhaalspawn wasn’t just a cruel twist of fate; it was a constant shadow, an insidious force threatening to consume you. And tonight, the fear of it all was too much to bear.

Your hand trembled as you reached for the cup of tea beside you, but you barely managed a sip before setting it down, the bitter taste doing nothing to calm your nerves.

Gale noticed. He always noticed.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentle as he closed his book and leaned forward, concern etched across his face. “You’ve been quiet all evening. More so than usual.”

You hesitated, staring into the fire as if it could provide the answers you didn’t have. Finally, you spoke, your voice low and strained. “I need to tell you something, Gale. It’s… important.”

He straightened, his attention fully on you now, his worry deepening.

“Go on,” he urged softly, his tone as warm and steady as the firelight between you. You swallowed hard, trying to steady the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

“I’ve been… struggling. The darkness inside me, the urges… it’s been getting worse.” You glanced up at him, your eyes pleading for understanding. “I’m terrified that one day, I won’t be able to control it.”

Gale’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“I’m scared, Gale,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “Scared of what I might do. Of who I might hurt.” Your gaze dropped to your hands, clenched tightly in your lap. “Of hurting you.”

For a moment, there was only silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you. You braced yourself for his reaction, for the possibility that he might recoil, that he might see you as a monster.

Instead, Gale reached across the space between you and took your hand in his, his touch warm and grounding.

“You’re scared because you care,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Because you love.”

You looked up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“That doesn’t change what I am,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “It doesn’t change the danger I bring.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Gale agreed, his gaze steady and unflinching. “But it also doesn’t define you. You are more than your lineage, more than the darkness you carry.” He leaned closer, his voice soft but firm. “I’ve seen your strength, your kindness, your determination to do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. That is who you are.”

His words were like a balm, easing the ache in your chest, but the fear still lingered, a shadow that refused to dissipate.

“What if I fail?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if one day, it’s not enough?”

Gale’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve.

“Then I will stand by you. I will fight for you, my love. And if it ever comes to it, if you ever lose yourself…” He paused, his voice faltering for just a moment before he continued, “Then I will do whatever it takes to bring you back.”

The weight of his promise settled over you, both comforting and sobering. Gale wasn’t naive. He understood the risks, the danger. But he still chose to stay, to believe in you.

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you looked away, ashamed of your vulnerability. But Gale reached out, gently cupping your face and turning you back to him.

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he said, his voice a soothing murmur. “Let me share the burden. Let me be your anchor, your light when the darkness feels too heavy.”

The sincerity in his words, the love in his eyes—it was more than you felt you deserved. But it was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Gale smiled, a soft, bittersweet expression. “You’ll never have to find out,” he said simply.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ���──

Astarion:

The night was eerily quiet, the campfire crackling softly as shadows danced across the surrounding trees. The rest of the party had already retired, their quiet snores or the occasional rustling of blankets filling the air. You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. Not tonight. Not with the turmoil twisting and clawing inside you like a living thing.

You sat by the fire, staring into its embers, your hands clenched so tightly around your knees that your knuckles had gone pale. The warmth of the flames couldn’t reach the chill in your chest, the fear that coiled there like a venomous snake.

You thought you were handling it. You thought you could keep it at bay—the dark, violent urges that came with being a child of Bhaal. But they were growing stronger, whispering in your mind, seeping into your dreams. And then there was Astarion.

Beautiful, sharp-tongued, and endlessly charming Astarion.

He was your light in this abyss, your anchor when the tides of your bloodline threatened to drown you. And that terrified you more than anything. What if one day you lost control? What if the darkness overtook you, and the person you hurt was him?

The thought was too much to bear.

“Brooding by the fire, are we?”

His voice, smooth as silk and tinged with amusement, broke the silence. You looked up to see Astarion approaching, his pale features illuminated by the firelight. He had that same easy grace, that effortless confidence, as he crouched down beside you.

But his eyes—those piercing red eyes—softened when they met yours. “Darling, you’ve been quieter than usual. And that’s saying something, given your quirk of blurting out how one day all will be ash and meat. What’s troubling you?”

You opened your mouth to deflect, to brush it off with some half-hearted excuse. But the weight of it all—the fear, the guilt, the constant battle within yourself—was too much. The dam broke.

“I’m scared, Astarion,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His playful smirk faded, replaced by a look of genuine concern. “Scared of what?”

You hesitated, your hands trembling as you fidgeted with the edge of your cloak. “Of me. Of what I am. Of what I might do.”

Astarion tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharpening. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your hand, grounding you. “You’ll have to be more specific, love. I’m not following.”

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I’m a Bhaalspawn, Astarion. Violence, bloodshed, and death are in my veins. Lately, it’s been harder to suppress. The urges… they’re getting louder.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he moved closer, his hand now fully enveloping yours.

“And I’m terrified that one day I won’t be able to stop it,” you continued, your voice cracking. “What if I lose control? What if I hurt you?”

Astarion was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he let out a soft chuckle.

“Astarion, this isn’t funny,” you said, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

“No, it’s not,” he said, his tone serious despite the slight curve of his lips. “But the idea of you hurting me? Darling, that’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard.”

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” he interrupted, his voice gentle but firm. “You’re battling demons—figurative ones, in this case—and you’re terrified of losing. But let me tell you something: I’ve spent centuries surrounded by true monsters, the kind who delighted in inflicting pain, who relished in their power over others. You? You are nothing like them.”

“But what if—”

He silenced you by cupping your face, his touch cool but steady. “Listen to me. You have more control than you think. The very fact that you’re worried about this, that you’re fighting so hard against it, proves that you’re stronger than whatever darkness is trying to claim you.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but his unwavering gaze held you steady.

“And as for me,” he continued, his tone softening, “I’m not some fragile thing that will break at the first sign of trouble. I’ve survived worse than you can imagine. If you ever lose control, if the worst happens, I’ll stop you. I’ll pull you back. But I don’t believe it will ever come to that.”

You searched his eyes, finding nothing but sincerity and a quiet, fierce determination.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“And you won’t,” he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Because you’re stronger than this. Stronger than Bhaal, stronger than the urges, stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

The knot in your chest loosened ever so slightly, his words and his presence easing the storm inside you.

“Now,” he said, his playful smirk returning, “let’s go to bed before you spiral into another fit of unnecessary guilt. You need rest, and frankly, so do I. Being this sentimental is exhausting, you know.”

Despite everything, a small laugh escaped you, the tension breaking like the first rays of dawn after a long night. And as he led you back to the tent, his hand never leaving yours, you felt a flicker of hope. Of love, and the urges lurched in response - it made you smile.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The moon hung high above the camp, its light spilling through the gaps in the trees and painting the world in shades of silver and shadow. Most of the group had retired for the night, the soft murmur of Gale's incantations and the crackling of the fire the only sounds breaking the stillness. You sat alone near the edge of camp, your hands trembling as they gripped your knees.

The pressure inside you had been building for weeks. Suppressing the violent urges that came with being Bhaalspawn was an exhausting battle, one fought every moment of every day. But tonight, it felt different. Heavier. Darker. The whispers at the edge of your mind were louder, tempting you with promises of release, of power, of blood.

And then there was Wyll.

Wyll, who had become your safe haven, your light in the dark. The thought of him—his warm smile, his gentle touch, his unwavering sense of justice—usually kept the worst of it at bay. But tonight, those same thoughts brought a new wave of fear crashing over you. What if you slipped? What if you hurt him? What if the monster in your blood lashed out at the one person who made you feel human?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Wyll approach until he spoke, his voice soft and filled with concern.

“Darling, what are you doing out here? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You looked up sharply, startled to see him standing before you, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. He was dressed casually, his usual armor replaced with a simple shirt and trousers, but he still carried that same regal air, like a knight from a storybook.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice hoarse. Wyll frowned, his dark eyes studying you intently.

“Something’s troubling you,” he said, kneeling beside you. “I can see it. Talk to me.”

You hesitated, your throat tightening as the words threatened to choke you. But this was Wyll. If anyone deserved the truth, it was him.

“I’m scared,” you finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Not of someone else. Of me.”

Wyll’s frown deepened, but he didn’t interrupt, waiting for you to continue.

“I feel it growing inside me,” you confessed, pressing a hand to your chest. “The violence. The bloodlust. The part of me that’s tied to Bhaal. Most days, I can keep it at bay, but lately… it’s been harder. I can’t stop thinking about what might happen if I lose control. What if—” Your voice broke, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “What if I hurt you?”

Wyll was silent for a moment, and the fear in your chest tightened. But then he reached out, gently taking your hand in his.

“You won’t hurt me,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I don’t even know that.”

“I do know that,” Wyll said, his grip on your hand tightening. “Because I know you. You’re not defined by the blood in your veins or the darkness you fight. You’re defined by your choices, by the person you’ve chosen to be. And that person would never hurt me.”

“But what if I can’t control it?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if one day it’s too much?”

Wyll’s expression softened, and he reached up to cup your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

“Then I’ll be here to pull you back,” he said. “I’ve fought devils and demons, faced horrors that would drive most people mad. Do you really think I’d falter in the face of this?”

His words brought a lump to your throat, and you struggled to hold back tears.

“I’m not as strong as you think I am,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wyll smiled, a warm, reassuring expression that seemed to chase away the shadows in your mind.

“You’re stronger than you know,” he said. “And you don’t have to face this alone. We’ll fight it together, just like we’ve faced everything else.”

For the first time that night, the weight on your chest began to ease. Wyll’s unwavering faith in you, his belief in your strength, was enough to quiet the whispers in your mind.

“You’re too good for me,” you said, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

Wyll chuckled, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Nonsense. If anything, I’m the lucky one. Now, come on,” he said, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s get some rest. The night may be dark, but the dawn always comes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The camp was calm that evening, the embers of the fire casting a warm glow on the surrounding trees. The quiet murmurs of your companions settling in for the night mixed with the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. You sat a distance away from them, perched on a rock at the edge of camp. The weight in your chest felt unbearable, like an anchor dragging you down, deeper into the murky abyss of your thoughts.

For weeks, you’d fought it—the growing darkness, the violent whispers of your lineage that clawed at the edges of your mind. As a Bhaalspawn, the pull toward destruction was an ever-present shadow, lurking just behind your every action, every thought. It was one thing to suppress those urges in battle, but here, in the stillness of camp, when you were surrounded by those you cared about most, the fear took on a sharper edge.

What if one day, the darkness won? What if you hurt someone? What if you hurt Halsin?

The thought alone made your stomach twist with dread. Halsin, with his boundless compassion and unshakable calm, was your anchor, the one thing that made you believe you could rise above the blood that coursed through your veins. He saw the good in you, even when you struggled to see it yourself. The thought of losing him—of being the reason he suffered—was too much to bear.

You heard his footsteps before you saw him, the gentle crunch of leaves beneath his boots a familiar sound that sent a flicker of warmth through your chest. You didn’t look up as he approached, but you felt his presence as he settled beside you on the rock, his broad frame a comforting silhouette against the night.

“You’ve been quiet,” Halsin said, his deep voice soft and laced with concern. “More so than usual. What troubles you, my heart?”

You swallowed hard, your hands twisting in your lap as you tried to find the words. For a moment, you considered brushing it off, telling him it was nothing. But this was Halsin. If anyone deserved the truth, it was him.

“I’m scared,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. Halsin turned to look at you, his golden eyes studying your face with gentle patience.

“Of what?” he asked, though there was no judgment in his tone—only understanding. You hesitated, your throat tightening.

“Of myself,” you said at last. “Of what I might do. Of what I might become.”

Halsin’s brows furrowed slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for you to continue.

“I can feel it,” you said, gesturing vaguely to your chest. “This… darkness inside me. It’s always there, whispering, urging me toward violence. I can control it, for now, but… what if one day I can’t? What if I lose control, and I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?”

Your voice broke on the last word, and you looked away, ashamed of the tears that pricked at your eyes.

Halsin was silent for a moment, and you braced yourself for his response, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios. But then, to your surprise, he reached out and took your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding.

“Listen to me,” Halsin said, his voice steady and calm. “I have walked this world for many years, and I have seen both the best and the worst it has to offer. I know what it means to carry a heavy burden, to feel as though you are fighting a battle within yourself every day. But you are not defined by the blood in your veins or the whispers in your mind.”

You looked up at him, your breath hitching as you met his gaze. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation—only unwavering belief.

“You have a choice,” Halsin continued. “Every day, you choose to rise above the darkness. To fight it, even when it feels impossible. That is what makes you strong. That is what makes you you.”

“But what if it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “What if I fail?”

Halsin smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Then I will be here to catch you. To remind you of who you are and the goodness you carry within you. And if the worst should ever come to pass…” He hesitated, his expression turning serious. “If you truly lose yourself, I will do what must be done to protect those you care about. But I do not believe it will come to that. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

His words washed over you, easing the tightness in your chest ever so slightly.

“You’re not afraid of me?” you asked, your voice small.

Halsin shook his head. “Afraid of you? No, my heart. I am in awe of you. You face a battle every day that most cannot imagine, and yet you continue to fight. That is not something to fear—it is something to admire.”

The weight in your chest began to lift, replaced by a flicker of hope. Halsin’s faith in you was unshakable, and for the first time in weeks, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could overcome this.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice thick with emotion.

Halsin leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You are not alone in this,” he murmured. “And you never will be. Whatever comes, we will face it together.”

As he pulled you into his arms, the warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering shadows in your mind. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel at peace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a bit of a long one for y'all, I struggled slightly with some repetition, but i hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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[avocado-writing]

Not the same anon as before, but what about a reverse Mummy/Daddy kink - the companions calling Tav Mummy/Daddy 👀👀

LMAO alright here you go. happy belated valentines ya crazy kids (same set up as last time, as if it’s being called out mid-sex) - minors DNI this is filthy

companion piece here

Astarion

Does it because he thinks you’ll like it. Makes sure to moan it wantonly as you’re fucking him, rolling your hips slow and sensual.

Looks up into your eyes as he says it, caressing each letter across his tongue, heavy-lidded and breathy. Every inch of him is sex.

You pause your hips, cock a brow.

“Do you mean that, Astarion?”

The way you’re staring at him makes him consider. Does he? He loves the way you’re making him feel, and now he considers it a warmth is creeping across his body…

Whispers it again, then moans when you start fucking him in earnest. He cums harder than he has for ages.

You cuddle him afterwards and he’s never felt safer in your arms. Perhaps he’s more fond of calling you that than he realised…

Gale

(wrote a whole fic about this here…)

Is mortified. Apologises profusely. Should have cleared it with you first.

Didn’t mean for it to sneak out, he just feels so safe with you… He couldn’t help it…

You catch his face between your hands and give him the most gentle kiss, beginning to move your hips and fuck him again. He cries out into your mouth in ecstasy.

Is so full of love as he cums, collapses into your embrace after and lets you pepper him with kisses.

You whisper that he’s a good boy, and he melts.

Wyll

Just as mortified as Gale, maybe even more so.

Tries to pull away, assuming you’ll want to stop —

So is surprised when you pull him back to you, start kissing him softly and sensually. Reassuring him he’s alright, you’re not angry.

Press your forehead to his and rock your hips back and forth until he begins to whine out in need, and you eke the word from his lips again.

You make love softly and slowly, showering him with praise, luxuriating in the sweet sounds of ecstasy he makes.

He does apologise again after, but you let him know you don’t mind. You quite enjoyed it, actually…

You tease him just a little, but always with a kiss afterwards.

Karlach

She gets so super duper swept up in the session that she doesn’t even realise she’s said it.

“Karlach, what did you just call me?” “Eh? What did i call you??”

When you tell her, she laughs. “Oops! Did I?”

You stroke her face, brush some of her hair out of her eyes. “Do you want to call me it again?”

She grins and, as you go back to fucking her, she shouts it out so loudly that the whole camp knows what you were up to last night…

… she can’t pretend she’s ashamed.

Shadowheart

“Aww, Shadowheart, what did you just say?”

She huffs and tries to deny it, but you bring it out of her again later when your mouth is between her legs. It’s a name she cries out as her fingers bury themselves into your hair.

You don’t stop, in fact you go harder, encouraging her to cry out even more.

It becomes a chant of your name and that word as you drive her to the edge, she moans it as she orgasms on your tongue.

You tease her good-naturedly for it, and she gets grumpy, but then you whisper “mummy/daddy doesn’t mind…” into her ear and it gets her going again…

Lae’zel

You aren’t sure that you heard her right.

“Uhh, Lae’zel, did you just call me…” “Tsk’va! Do not stop in the middle, keep moving your hips!”

So you keep going, even if you’re a bit bemused, because gods was it hot to her that word drip from her mouth mid-sex.

She, as always, leaves you sore and satisfied afterwards. You turn to her as she relaxes on the pillow.

“Did you mean to say what you said?” “I mean every word which passes my lips. There was no mistake. Did you enjoy hearing it?”

You consider this because… yeah. You did. She looks smug.

“Then it shall be repeated.”

Halsin

Genuinely never thought he’d be the one using it in bed, but you’re fucking him so good, he’s on fire for you…

It just sort of slips out. You pause and look down at him, grinning, delighted.

“The mighty archdruid Halsin calling me that, hm… let me show you what a good boy you are.”

He’s left just wide eyed and utterly boneless after. You hold him close and kiss him all over, stroking his hair and checking that he’s alright.

“I’ll admit, I did not think such a word would ever cross my lips… but I cannot pretend I did not enjoy it. Perhaps we can repeat the experience…” he confesses, feeling his cock grow hard again.

You grin, and oblige.

Minthara

“Minthara did you just call me—“ “no. Return your mouth to my body and do not speak of this again. Ever. To anyone. Or I shall gut you.”

Afterwards you let her know that it’s alright if she did call you that word. She still denies it, but when she thinks you’re not looking she seems… pleased.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kate @dhampling@wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdousnugget @somethingblu3 @hopeful-n-sad

[theladyismyshepard]

My Lady In Death

My interest has shifted towards Baldur's Gate 3 and call me obsessed, almost as much as I was for RE:V... This is my headcannons for the main ladies of the party... careful, it's a long post

How the Ladies Would React to Your (Tav's) Death

Shadowheart –

It’s funny… it’s so funny… There was a battlefield roaring its rage to the Heavens in the sky. A melodic thrum of agony and death and yet there was a single sound that rose above all else: the sound of your body crashing to the ground, a loud grunt forced out from between your lips.

The strong “Ignis!” caught itself in Shadowheart’s throat, subconsciously forfeiting her turn as she stared wide-eyed at your fallen form. Her lips were moving, yet no sound was escaping. No spell, no incantation, no anything– She was so frozen in disbelief, one could mistake her for being under a stunned or immobilizing spell. All she could do was watch your shaky movements as you attempted to hoist yourself to your feet, only to receive a final concussive blow that left trails of blood leaking from your nose, mouth, and eyes

“NO!” The scream was so raw that almost everyone in the party felt the shredding of their own throats

Karlach reached forward to intercept the cleric just as she showed the first signs of darting thoughtlessly across the battlefield towards your dead body, but when Shadowheart showed an ounce of determination, she proved unstoppable. She sidestepped Karlach’s hand, ignored the resulting string of curses from Lae’zel, and darted towards you. Not only did she have faith in her teammates (well, Karlach) to guard her back, she had faith that Shar would guide her forward.

Which raised a few questions: Why was Shadowheart fearing this loss in a way she never felt before? Why was she so desperate to counter the inevitable? Why couldn’t she let Shar take you away? Shadowheart swallowed thickly as she dropped to her knees beside you, pulling your head into her lap. Her trembling fingers reached into her travel pack and she didn’t stop fumbling around until she produced a Scroll of Revivify. She untied the knot keeping it together, and rested the parchment atop your chest.

Her voice shook the entire time she spoke through the words of the scroll. Her eyes were blurred so thickly with tears that the obscured spell was nearly illegible to her. Shadowheart’s left hand was tangling its fingers in your hair, an absent gesture of comfort more for herself rather than you at the moment. She was aware of the sudden company of defense that swarmed and encircled the two of you, but she couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, not when you were growing colder by the second and Shar’s grip of darkness was taking its hold on you.

There was a glow surrounding your body for a moment, and when it finally dimmed, the scroll burned itself to a crisp and faded away on a gust of wind. There was a pause that had Shadowheart’s heart stuttering against her ribcage and then you were taking in a large breath of air, and it looked so natural, as if you had never stopped. Shadowheart released a breath of her own and it nearly had her bowing over, her tears finally spilling down her cheeks.

You were here, you were alive, you were going to be okay… She indulged herself in stealing a single kiss atop your brow, her left hand gently scratching your scalp before she pulled back abruptly.

Shadowheart… turned her back on her lady. All color drained from her face, all relief she had been relishing in dried up, all fear she had dislodged back anew, but directed for herself now– As Shar’s servant, she must accept darkness, accept loss almost to the point of wishing for it. You were well within Shar’s merciful grasp

And Shadowheart stole you back… It’s only natural to struggle with your religious guilt after saving the one you care so much for. Give her time to process this.

Lae'zel –

Disbelief. That is the only emotion Lae’zel found herself able to process for an entire minute; Disbelief that your body was crumpled and shredded down in the dirt; Disbelief that this unorthodox hero that was supposedly “meant to save the world” had fallen so easily… Disbelief that she allowed your death to happen.

Next was the fury that almost visibly burned in licking flames. Death would not take you, not if she had anything to say about it. Not when she was standing right there and these fiendish goblins had the audacity to strip your life from your body before her very eyes. No… Lae’zel was fury, she was death, and she would avenge you before she would think to resurrect you.

That half-elf, she had powers of healing and while Lae’zel loathed Shadowheart on a good day, she knew the cleric to have enough wits to know to respond to their fallen hero with haste (lest she meet her own untimely end at the edge of her blade). The fight was a blur, and it was over before any of the other party members could land another hit.

Lae’zel was a flurry of strikes, one after the other, each enemy dropping with a thud before they could so much as raise a shield in defense. Her blade cut through their armor, and with each slice, she couldn’t help but to associate it with the final blow that cut you down. Each wet shluk as her sword went through reminded her of the very sound of your own flesh giving way to iron. She didn’t even feel the blood washing over her enough to get to relish in the victory– this was no victory.

“They’re all gone, soldier,” came Karlach’s small, but steady voice, though Lae’zel still felt rage, she couldn’t shake it…

It was a familiar feeling her people associated with, almost like lifelong friends, but this was driven by a loss that she had yet to experience, and she was damn near close to cursing the Comet himself for allowing such a person like yourself to come into her life and just… change her very being… or at least her standards. But she was cursing you.

Cursing you for coming into her life, showing her tolerance, showing her affection, showing her love… and then just as you had gotten her to fall, you fell at her feet in a pool of your own blood. Lae’zel’s grip around her silver sword tightened, her form trembling in a mix of rage, sorrow, and hatred. Hatred at those who killed you, hatred for you for how easily you went down, but mostly, hatred for herself for not throwing her own body on the blade before it could ever reach your perfect skin.

“Lae’zel… love,” 

The sword dropped as did her mouth. Right… You were intelligent enough to stock up on Scrolls of Revivify when the party was last in Baldur’s Gate. Lae’zel pulled herself together, grabbed her sword, and regained her signature scowl.

“I suggest we keep moving forward unless anyone is seriously injured… then we head for camp and rest… no matter, Tav, I need you in my sight at all times,” You couldn’t help the smile when she took your hand in her own, checked you over once for any lingering injuries, and pressed on before anyone could even answer her question.

Karlach –

Gravity was betraying Karlach on this particular day in so many ways. The way her stomach was dropping to her feet had her fighting back the urge to puke. The lightness of her soul wanting to leave behind the overheating engine that kept her in place. It was all so disorienting, but most of all was the gravity that dragged your body down into the abyss, completely disappearing from sight.

“NOOO!” she bellowed, fire engulfing her body, threatening all who were foolish enough to draw close.

“Karlach! It’s okay!” insisted Shadowheart urgently, “Their soul, look!”

Karlach always knew your soul would have a calming aura about it. The tiny, cool, blue ball of light was beckoning the fiery red that was Karlach’s being. There was still a stray archer somewhere out of sight, but that was of no concern to her. She needed to get to you, to protect you… She had to nourish your soul, feed it life from one of the scrolls that had to have been crafted from the very Gods themselves

You two still had so much left to explore together… The party had just encountered Dammon and had supplied enough infernal iron to ensure an upgrade to Karlach’s engine. Boy did you two celebrate that night after she received her first real hug in a decade. It was all fire and all passion, and that was everything that Karlach needed in life. You were everything she needed.

So forgive her if she refused to give you up so easily after finally, finally receiving the happiness she was denied for so long. She’s done her waiting… Ten years of it! In Avernus… You didn’t give up on her, not when a misguided Wyll had sent you on a path to kill her, and not when you found out she was a ticking time bomb waiting to blow. She would fight through all Nine Realms of the Hells to do the same for you.

Karlach reached the floating orb that was your soul, forced herself to relax enough to extinguish her own flames, and cradled it in her palms as if it was the grandest treasure in the world… to Karlach, it was the world. She had the world in the palm of her hands and she couldn’t help but burst into tears. You were too good to have had any hiccup in your heartbeat, to have been taken so early that Karlach had to bend the very will of fate to bring you back.

“Call me selfish, I don’t give a shit,” Karlach muttered to anyone who was listening. No one would dare to argue her in such a state as this

Gently repositioning your soul into one palm, Karlach reached into her pocket and withdrew a Scroll of Revivify. She swaddled the orb in the scroll, as if tucking it into a warm blanket on a cold night before bringing the entirety of it to her lips and whispering the incantation as if it were a prayer. Your body materialized before the party’s very eyes and you soon found yourself pulled into Karlach’s crushing embrace before she apologized and supplied a Potion of Supreme Healing.

“Try to stay on firm ground from now on, eh?”

Minthara –

Oh Gods, oh Hells, oh shit… May the Gods grant mercy on the soul that decides to cleave your soul from your body, leaving you a mangled mess of what Minthara had come to claim as hers. She was not finished with you and the rush of high you brought with, and she would part the Heavens or douse the Hells to rip you back into her life, and she was about to demonstrate such at this very moment.

Gortash was a formidable foe, he was Chosen for a reason… and that was because Minthara thought herself too good to be a God’s plaything. Second best must answer to her scorn and no longer will anyone question that the wrath of Minthara could shake even the Gods.

The entire scene shifted, and no more were Gortash’s semi-invisible minions, or his tangible, looming fist. He was on his knees, a quivering mess as he gazed into Minthara’s eyes and saw nothing but his own pitiful reflection.

At last, there was a change in her features as a cruel grin slowly twisted the edges of her lips. She would draw this out and savor every last scream he had to offer. It was one thing to threaten the safety of the entire world, but to outright target and end your life, with Minthara standing there no less… it was a direct insult and a loss that she couldn’t even really bring herself to feel.

Minthara is calculating, and while she refuses to ever witness your soul leave your body again, she also knew that she was resourceful if not intimidating. There were ways of bringing you back to life, and every option was at her fingertips, it was just a matter of who or what she wanted to exploit.

After driving a dagger straight through Grotash’s eye and into his skull, Minthara hardly even basked in the quivering of his pained body as he dropped and convulsed in a pool of his own blood. No, she was too busy turning towards Shadowheart and barking orders.

“You! Call upon your deity and demand them to revive your allies with half their health. I’m aware that you are granted this wish only once, and I have yet to have seen you use it.” It was done with only a minimal amount of glaring, and suddenly you were stiffly rising to your feet with a groan.

“You were careless with your life, and I am severely unappreciative of that… You would do best to not piss me off as such again, okay?”

You were nodding along without a word, but you couldn't help the flutter of your newly restarted heart when Minthara carefully put her arm around your shoulder as a means to both guide and protect you from what more is to come.

[thehistoriccemetery]

BG3: Reader is Kidnapped/Tortured

This one started as a Shadowheart oneshot, but I decided to expand it to include Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara as well.

Let me know your favorites! I’m looking to expand more of my stuff into one shots, so it’s good information to have!

Content Warning for torture (obviously)

Shadowheart

When the days adventuring party returns without you, her blood immediately runs cold. They didn’t just come back without and leave you out there right?

When they inform her that you’ve been taken by the cloister, her face goes pale.

It takes Karlach and Wyll on either side of her to get her eased down onto a bedroll and breathing regularly. You were gone.

And to make matters worse, Viconia DeVir had you in her grip. Even with her amnesia, she could recall just how cruel the woman was.

The party had made great strides in passively finding clues about the location of the House of Grief, but they were still yet to find it.

Finding it had now jumped from a passive priority to the single most important thing they could be doing.

Shadowheart spent most of that night weeping in frustration at her inability to remember. She had grown up there for gods sake. The past 40 years at least had been spent in that damned house.

In the end, it was actually Astarion who finally discovered the sanctuary’s location. It was decided that he and Shadowheart would be the two best suited to sneak in and retrieve you.

When they found you, you were lying on the house’s marble floor, chained up to rigs that came out of the ground. The chain around your neck only barely allowed you to sit up to look at your rescuers.

“Shadowheart? Shadowheart is that you?” You whispered into the dark room. You could only see two silhouettes, but the quaffed elven hair of Asterion and the pointy crown of Shadowheart gave it away.

You instinctively tried to rush towards her, only to be stopped by the strain of your restraints. It didn’t much matter though, because Shadowheart was at your side in a matter of seconds.

She stroke your cheek, paying special attention to cut that stretched across your face. She was quick to move around to other parts of your body, stopping to carefully examine each of your wounds. Your restraints left you unable to reach out to her in anyway.

“Shadowheart, please, you have to get out of here, now,” you nearly cry. “They’re looking for you.” Astarion joins the two of you on the ground, getting to work at picking the several locks that held you in place.

It takes her a moment to register what you were saying. Her first thought is an obvious refusal, she’s not going anywhere without you.

But then the implications of your words dawn on her. They took you because they couldn’t find her. All of this torture you’ve endured, you’ve done it to protect her.

“Please Shadowheart,” you beg. “I swear I didn’t tell them anything. You’ll be safe at camp, just please go.”

Her head spins with newly uncovered memories of the torture she inflicted before the Nautaloid. She remembers how the Sharrans go about getting information from people.

“Astarion, how are coming along on those locks?” she ignores your pleas in favor of getting you free. Your upper body is now free, but he seems to be having trouble with your ankles.

“Patience, darling,” he quips, nearly earning him a slap across the face from Shadowheart.

Within the minute the shackles drop from your ankles, leaving you free to stand up on shaking legs. Shadowheart gives you a quick healing spell before asking “do you think you can make it back?”

You nod, following her and Astarion back the way they came in.

You had never been more excited to see camp than you were in that moment. You laid down face first on the plush Elfsong mattress. You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and being tortured really took it out of you.

Shadowheart sat on the bed next to you. The fact that you laid down on your stomach did not bode well for the condition of your back.

She tugged gently at the hem of your shirt. “Arms up, love,” she cooed. You whined and crossed your arms over your chest. You didn’t want to show her what they had done.

“If you truly will not show me, I will get Jaheira to look after you,” she reasoned. “But, please, let me take care of you.” The second part was more a plea than anything.

Reluctantly, you lifted your arms and allowed her to pull the shirt over your head.

She did her best to remain stoic. She had seen endless wounds like this. She had inflicted endless wounds like this. But against her will, a sob choked its way up her throat.

The same back she had spent so many nights tracing and trailing with kisses was now so raw and bloodied, she wondered for a moment if you had any skin left.

She used every last bit of energy healing the wounds. By the time she was done she had exhausted herself too much to even make it back to her own bed.

She spent the night curled up around your legs, resting her head on your lower back. Viconia was going pay for what she’d done, she’d make sure of it.

Lae’zel

Lae’zel isn’t the usually the tactical planning type, but when you’re captured by Vlaakith’s army, she realizes this isn’t a kick-down-the-front-door type of mission.

This does not, however, make her any more patient during the planning process. The githyanki could have you floating halfway through astral plane by now.

Luckily, the gith as a whole aren’t known for their subtleties, so you’re not hard to track down.

Protection is thankfully slim enough that the party can pretty much strong arm their way to you.

When Lae’zel finds you are bound by some magical device that was, as loathe as she was to admit it, beyond her level of expertise.

You were at least conscious, which was truly remarkable given your condition. All your clothes were torn and bloodied, but the most concerning and blatant wound came for the side of your head.

Almost the entire left side of your face was completely covered in dried blood, all leading back to the gash on the side of your head that was once your left ear.

Lae’zel cursed, pointlessly kicking the arcane barrier.

You could see her shouting at Gale. Presumably she was impatiently rambling about freeing you, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying through the barrier.

All you saw was a long dagger that she pulled from her belt before storming off in the direction of your now dead captors.

Lae’zel was still gone when the party finally figured out how lower the barrier around you.

You stumbled out onto your knees and immediately found yourself surrounded by the party’s healers.

Lae’zel came stomping back moments later, carrying a small wooden bucket she didn’t have before. Likely she just found it somewhere around the gith camp.

She dropped the bucket at your feet without a word, leaving you to examine the contents for yourself.

You looked down into the bucket to find a dozen or so fleshy green ears.

You look back up at her, not sure whether to be honored or disgusted.

The smug look on her face let you know that this was certainly a gift she was proud of, so honored it is.

“Thank you. It’s nice to have plenty of choices when it comes to choosing my replacement.”

Karlach

Karlach really does try to be tactical most of the time, but you’ve been taken by none other than Lord Gortash himself.

And the idea that you are gone and she is here, at camp, while the others make a plan of how to rescue you? She can hardly contain herself.

She paces around camp, leaving a thick line of charred wood beneath her as she walks the same path over and over again.

Chewing her nails isn’t usually a nervous habit of hers but at this point she’s liable to chew her fingers off.

She logically knows it would do no good to come out guns blazing when you’re probably locked up behind the entirety of the steel watch, but worry and adrenaline nearly get ahead of her.

It is Shadowheart and Halsin who finally pull her from her thoughts. They have a plan, and much to Karlach’s relief it involves her. She was terrified they might agree upon a stealthier approach and ask her to stay behind.

She would have done it, if it were truly what was best for you. She might have burned up the entirety of the Elfsong Tavern by the time you finally got back though.

Luckily, since Karlach was mistaken by the steel watch as a defective watcher, she was actually best equipped to break in.

The plan, in whole, ran pretty smoothly. At least until the moment Karlach actually set eyes on you, bruised up and unconscious in the middle of a cell.

All bets were off after that. There was one thing that mattered and it was having you, safe with her again.

The minute it took Astarion to pick the lock was the longest of her entire life. She was nearly burning hot enough to melt through the bars herself.

The moment the door popped open, she was beside you, on her knees pulling you into her chest.

Shadowheart whisper-shouted behind her, reminding her to watch your neck and be gentle with your head. She carefully situated her large hand to cradle your head.

She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe her own panicked heart. “Hey bub, it’s me. I came to rescue you. I… please wake up. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

When you didn’t ever stir, Karlach looked up at Halsin and Shadowheart, eyes brimming with tears and worry. “They aren’t waking up. Why aren’t they waking up?”

Halsin joined Karlach on the ground, leaning to put his head on your chest. “Their heart continues to beat and their lungs draw breath, but they are weak. We must get them to camp.”

There was an incredibly brief argument about who was best fit to carry you, given that your skin was already starting to redden from Karlach’s heat, but her bottom lip quivered at even the mention of you leaving her arms.

When they managed to get you back to the Elfsong, Karlach was reluctantly convinced to lay you down on your bed.

She winced when she saw the small burns starting to form on the side of your body she had held to her own. Your left cheek was already starting to blister. Maybe she should’ve let Halsin carry you after all.

The healers came by to try and figure what had happened to you. You had no visible injuries, aside from the minor burns, yet you were still unable to be stirred.

It was actually Minthara who suggested they may have inflicted mental torture rather than physical, similar to what was inflicted on her at Moonrise.

The idea made Karlach burst into uncontrolled sobs. “You think they may have been erased?!”

Minthara looked sympathetically down at Karlach, but didn’t have an answer for her.

The party collectively decided that the only thing they could do is wait and let you rest.

Afraid to burn you with the fire that courses through her veins, Karlach restrained herself from crawling into bed with you. Instead she knelt next to the bed, resting her head on the mattress and reaching up to stroke your body.

She couldn’t sleep at all that night, only stroke your burned cheek and cry softly into your mattress.

She started to talk to you, talking about all the things she’s like to do with you when all of this was over.

“Maybe we’ll get a little place in Lower City, next to the water so we can watch the sunsets with all the boats ‘n stuff floating out in the distance. Oh! And we can go on little picnics in Bloomridge Park, and feed our leftovers to all the stray cats and dogs. Oh who am I kidding we’re taking all of them home with us. We’re gonna have a whole farmhouse if you can’t stop me.”

When you finally do wake up, Karlach wraps her arms around in a hug so tight you nearly suffocate. She eventually settles to sit in your lap while you gently stroke her hair.

Gortash better start counting because his days are dangerously numbered.

Minthara

The moment Minthara finds out you’ve been taken by Orin, her heart nearly stops beating.

One moment it was you, the love of her life, standing before her. Then, through the breaking of necks and cracking of bones, she finds herself face to face with one of her few fears. Orin the Red.

How could she fall for this again? Her head spins with the thought of all the things Orin may be doing to you. She knows you could hold your own, but Orin had a way of breaking the unbreakable.

Sometimes, with how loyally she followed you, it was easy to forget that Minthara was used to being the one in charge. A lot had changed since you met her as the Nightwarden.

But it all comes back quickly as she barks out orders to the now leaderless party. They were marching on the Temple of Bhaal, now. Minthara was prepared to take on the god of murder himself if it meant saving you.

As tempting as it was to charge straight into the temple, it left you all with little hope of survival. She decided the party’s presence near the temple would be enough to lure Orin out, leaving her an open opportunity to slip in.

Orin’s tactless blood thirst made the plan go over all too well. She couldn’t resist the smell of fresh unspilled blood at her doorstep.

By the time Minthara got to you, you were weak but still painfully conscious. You were hanging over an alter like a sacrifice by meat hooks that cleaved into your skin.

You had been tortured in true Bhaalist fashion. While your body displayed clear evidence of the slicing and cleaving, your mind was even more clouded by the things you had been forced to do and endure. It made you even more sympathetic to Minthara’s past.

Minthara climbed onto the unholy alter and began to remove you from the cruel hooks. She ignored your weak protestations, refusing to even look you in the eyes.

She resisted any urge to comfort you, pushing all the softness from her mind until the mission was complete and you were safe. She did not speak, fearing she may distract herself for the task at hand.

She only allowed for a brief moment when she picked you up and felt your throw your arms around her neck. You curled into her stomach with a choked sob and cried “I’m so sorry.”

“I know you better than to think you are foolish. Orin is cunning, persistent, and full of deceit. I do not fault you for what has happened.”

Escaping the temple was easier than getting in. She wordlessly worked her way back to the Elfsong with the ease of someone who wasn’t carrying a bloodied body.

She did what she could to heal you herself, given that none of the others had returned yet. A mildly concerning tidbit that seemed not to faze Minthara in the slightest.

It wasn’t until she was positive you would be okay that she allowed herself to soften, running her hands through your blood crusted hair and gently cleaning you with a dampened rag.

She paid little mind to the rest of the party, who returned looking a little worse for wear. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear that they had failed to kill Orin.

She recruited Jaheira to assist in your healing. She trusted her more than Shadowheart. She never let go of your hand, even when you squeezed so hard you thought you may have broken her fingers as Jaheira patched wounds with a variety of burning liquids.

She laid next to you on the bed, resting her head gently against your stomach and allowing you to stroke her head. She wasn’t bothered by the filth and blood that covers nearly every inch of you.

“We will make her pay for what she’s done to you. What she’s done to us. We will match every scar she’s inflicted tenfold until not even Bhaal with recognizes his own blood,” she swears, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.

[hijackalx]

BG3 NON-COMPANIONS/NON-ORIGIN COMPANIONS TURN ONS/KINKS +18

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

characters included: halsin, minthara, jaheira, gortash

*dark content warning for gortash*

HALSIN

SIZE DIFFERENCE

OBVIOUSLYYYY lmao. he loves how small u are in comparison to him. i mean everything about him is large— hands, arms, chest, thighs. also, i feel like he likes that he has to help u when u take control because ur smaller or weaker than him. like, when he has to subtly help u pin his wrists by moving them in the direction u want lol

THIGH RIDING

this also plays into the size difference thing. like his thigh is just so big/muscular, and he loves watching u grind on it (or he can bounce his knee to help u get off too). the type to grab u by ur hips and assist u when ur rhythm starts to stutter. he also loves the wet spot that forms in ur underwear if u keep them on 💗

DEEP THROATING/FACESITTING

OK HE LOVES BOTH like i said everything about him is large (😈) so he loves to see u try to swallow him whole. the way u gag and struggle to take him in is soooo hot to him. also all the drool that spills out of ur mouth 🤤🤤 as for facesitting u better sit ur ass tf DOWN !! HE CAN TAKE IT !! lovessss when u grind on his face/mouth, also loves to squeeze ur ass during it

THREESOME

THIS MAN IS GENEROUS !!! LOVES to share !! always wanting to invite people to have sex with y'all. he feels like it's so much more fun and also loves to watch u get fucked/have u watch him get fucked. will want to do spit roasting too.

SWINGING

sooo into exchanging partners with other couples. or just fucking other people in general. of course he won't do this if u don't want to though. but he gets really excited if u do 😹😹 probably gets off while sharing ur experiences with each other

MINTHARA

KNIFE PLAY

likes the way u shake and whimper as she brings her knife close to ur skin. will leave small cuts and want to carve her initials into ur skin. also slightly into bloodplay too ?? i feel like she'd be into smearing ur blood on her hands and making u clean them off with ur tongue OOF

BONDAGE

she would absolutely cast web and use it as bondage restraints LMAO. will have u in some crazyyy positions too. kind of in a shibari way but with webs. the webs are actually pretty gentle though and have some give so she's not like, totally sadistic with it 😌💗

DACRYPHILIA

SHE DOES LIKE TO SEE U CRY THOUGH LMAO like something about how weak/pathetic u look turns her on so bad— as long as SHE'S the one that made u cry. if it's because of somebody or something else it's lowkey a boner killer for her 😹😹😹 will say really horrible, mean things to try to bring u to tears and then get wet af. will not comfort u after either

GAGGING

likes to use a ball gag but will honestly use whatever she has at the moment. a rag or her fingers even. she likes that u can't speak and can only moan/whimper. also into the way u drool. will purposely ask u questions and then punish/degrade u for not being able to answer

BOOT WORSHIP

LOVESSS making u kiss her boots. will want to hold u down with her boot and make u praise her endlessly. or step on ur face. might even be into giving u a little kick in the diaphragm if u want 😹😹😹

JAHEIRA

MIRROR SEX

WILL WANT TO BE FUCKED IN FRONT OF A MIRROR!!!! with her face pressed against it while she's getting backshots or even with one propped up beside the bed so she can watch how good she looks while she rides u. lowkey will put on a show for herself and get off to it 😹😹

LINGERIE

loves lingerie of all kinds. the garter straps on her thighs are her favorite part tbh. probably prefers to wear black or red— like classically sexy colors. also probably likes it if u wear some too, and will want to keep it on for the full duration of the sex. LOVES lace

STRIPPING

^^ ALTHOUGH.... she also really likes to strip for u. like going nice and slow while u try to restrain urself lol. will probably give u a lap dance too and is pretty playful with it sometimes. particularly loves to see how u get progressively more horny the longer she takes, also into seeing u touch urself a little bit during it too

NIPPLE PLAY

sucking on/playing with her nipples is a MUST. HUGEEEE erogenous zone for her. can probably cum from nipple stimulation alone. likes when u make it hurt a little too, like pinching or twisting them

DEGRADATION

kind of into u calling her names.... like whore or slut. tell her she's a dirty whore while u pull her hair and fuck her from behind. will also talk down to u if ur not really doing the best job LMAO like u better fuck her right or ur gonna get it 😹😹 she'll straight up be like "is that the best u can do?" or "this is pathetic."

BONUS:

GORTASH

BREEDING

HE NEEDS HEIRRRSSSS !!! ALWAYS wants to cum inside. an actual babymaking MONSTER like he cums so much its crazy. loves to see u stuffed full of his cum, it really makes him feels accomplished after all of his hard work 💪🏻💯😹

DADDY DOM

he is so into being called daddy. depending on the context he’ll get rock hard but also likes if u call him that outside of sex too. u can basically get anything u want from him if u add a ‘please daddy’ at the end of it— like he just can’t bring himself to say no. he’ll do anything for u to keep calling him that lol

*** DUBCON ***

DEFINITELY into coercing u/figuring out ways to get what he wants. likes when u get overstimulated and start telling him it’s too much or trying to push him away (u do have a safeword). also the fact that he can overpower u if he wants gets him sooo hard

POWER PLAY

LOVESSS having u at his beck and call. the more pliant and submissive u are the better. won’t do this outside of the bedroom unless u want to or if u initiate it since he prefers the idea of only him being able to see u like that. he’s the only one you’ll roll over for, so to speak lol

COLLARING

makes a special collar for u with expensive imported materials and shit lmao. thinks u look absolutely gorgeous in it and will tell u that all the time. loves the way u gasp when he sharply tugs on its leash. will also tug on it while giving u backshots. likes how it chokes u a little bit too, and the bruises it leaves behind when he’s too rough with it

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS