#oc: emerald gale

[rose-of-oz]

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗙𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗛 𝗣𝗟𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘𝗦

The time has finally come for me to share my Ever After High plot bunnies with you guys!! I really did mean to post this shortly after I talked about my Monster High babies, but some things happened and I never got around to it. However, I’m here now!! Feel free to also check out my Ever After High fancast if you want to better picture these plot bunnies with their friends and ships!

(Also gonna tag my beloveds @ginevrastilinski-ocs and @manyfandomocs since they’re the ones who inspired me to share these, and also my beloved @auxiliarydetective!!)

Tempest Witch, daughter of the Sea Witch, poly Dexter/Raven ship, China Anne McClain FC. Hidden away in the sea and homeschooled for most of her life because her mother wanted to protect her from having to sign the Storybook of Legends and suffering the same fate she did, but starts attending Ever After High after the Storybook is officially abolished. Kind of in awe of Raven and has a bit of a hero worship crush on her at first since she’s the one who changed everything, but eventually that turns into real feelings as they get to know each other better and those feelings extend to Dexter as well. A total sweetheart who absolutely doesn’t want to be evil and believes in goodness and helping people, but also intensely awkward and a bit naïve after being hidden away from the world for so long. Can transform into an octopus hybrid form whenever she gets into water, and also has hydrokinesis and is actually one of the strongest magic-using students at school since she was with her mother for so long and didn’t have a lot to do but practice. Obviously a Rebel, since she absolutely doesn’t want to become evil and hurt people, and her roommate is Lilly Bo-Peep.

Helena Müller Jr., daughter of “Thousandfurs,” Duchess ship, Paris Berelc FC. Named after her mother’s real name, but call her Junior and she’ll stomp on your toes in heels. One of the most fashionable students at Ever After High, and has definitely collaborated with Poppy on designs before. Happy to be a princess and looks forward to ruling her kingdom some day, but also wants to be able to design and sell her creations and is way too much of a social butterfly to be content being in disguise and unknown for years, so she certainly isn’t upset when Milton finally gets rid of the Storybook of Legends. A bright, cheeeful, and energetic person, always the life of the party, but also tends to be a bit insecure that people only like her because of her looks (a leftover from what happened to her mother). Develops a crush on Duchess despite the vast differences in their personalities, and though Duchess initially resents her like she resents all students with happy endings she eventually comes around and they get together. Some kind of a mix between a Royal and a Rebel (she likes her happy ending but doesn’t want to go through everything leading up to it and anyway believes that people should get to choose their destinies), and her roommate is Clara Lear.

Faerena Upland, daughter of Glinda the Good Witch, poly OC ship, Maisie Peters FC. Basically for the longest time this girl is Apple’s pre-Legacy Day beliefs combined with Glinda’s personality before she became friends with Elphaba - Faerena is a master at becoming exactly what the person she’s talking to wants to see and hear so she can keep boosting her social status, but she’s also pretty self-absorbed and doesn’t care about much but becoming Oz’s beloved Good Witch someday. Doesn’t care for the Rebels at all, can’t understand why they won’t just suck it up and stop making things hard for the people who do want their happy endings, and is constantly rude to all of the Rebels and Ness in particular, since he is supposed to be her future “enemy”. Eventually does realize the error of her ways and strives to become better and make amends, though, especially after she falls in love with Ness and Em - she doesn’t quite ever lose the vanity or the instinct to put on an act, though. Like her mother, has the ability to do magic but isn’t super good at it, which frustrates her to no end. Initially a hardcore Royal but transitions into becoming a Rebel, and her roommate is Emerald “Em” Gale (and they were roommates!).

Ness Thropp, son of Elphaba Thropp a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the West, poly OC ship (Faerena and Em’s boyfriend), Finn Wolfhard FC. Named after his late aunt Nessarose, which he isn’t exactly sure how to feel about. Most people at Ever After High tend to forget that he’s actually a student there, because he’s incredibly quiet and tries his best not to make his presence known. A good bit more skilled in magic than his mom since he has more opportunities to actually practice and learn about it, but mostly just practices so he can keep it in control because he’d much rather be drawing or painting than doing any magic. A dedicated artist who’s terrified of becoming Oz’s misunderstood pariah and is honestly kind of afraid of Faerena before he comes to realize just how constantly she puts on an act. The days Raven refused to sign the Storybook of Legends and when it was officially destroyed were the two best days of his life because it meant he didn’t have to be afraid anymore, but he also does have pretty bad social anxiety and has to learn to accept support from the people who care about him to overcome his worries and insecurities. He and Em start dating at first (he’s been hopelessly pining after her for literal years and she finally asks him out shortly after the Royals and Rebels start to make peace), and even though it takes him a bit longer than Em to forgive Faerena and start dating her - even though he’s also had a crush on her for a while despite everything - he fully supports Em entering into a relationship with her first and is the sweetest most attentive boyfriend to both his girlfriends when they all get together. Definitely a Rebel considering how much he’s always feared his destiny, and his roommate is Tucker.

Emerald “Em” Gale, daughter of Dorothy Gale, poly OC ship (Faerena and Ness’s girlfriend), Halle Bailey FC. Has always been excited for her destiny, since she can’t wait to visit Oz, but has also always thought Ness was sweet and doesn’t really want to go up against him, so she’s happy when the Storybook of Legends gets abolished because it means she won’t have to. Also doesn’t like Faerena much at first, since as her roommate she really sees how self-absorbed and image-obsessed she is, but eventually she sees how much the other girl puts on a constant mask and doesn’t really know who she is without her destiny and offers to help her make amends (essentially taking up the role of Faerena’s Elphaba rather than Ness doing it), and eventually winds up falling in love with her and dating her while also still dating Ness. Very happy when Ness and Faerena fall in love because she loves love and now the two people she loves love each other too! Definitely a lot like her mother, curious and adventurous and a bit quick-tempered, but also a sweetheart who would do anything for the people she cares about. Probably would describe herself as a Roybel (likes the idea of her destiny despite the fact that she completely flouts it, and does believe that people should be allowed to choose what they want to do), and her roommate is Faerena Upland (again, and they were roommates!).

Kieran Dancer, child of the eleventh Dancing Princess, Hopper ship, Keiynan Lonsdale FC. Justine’s cousin, but in her year at Ever After High since their mom didn’t have them until later in life. An absolutely terrible dancer despite the fact that their parents and aunts have had them and all their cousins in lessons since they were able to walk, so they’ve always been dreading their destiny and they’re intensely relieved when Milton finally gets rid of the Storybook of Legends. A very talented actor, though, and they get involved with Ever After High’s theatre department once Raven doesn’t sign and the Rebels are more free to pursue their actual passions. Kind of a class clown, super quick-witted and funny, but also has a big heart and knows how to be serious when it’s needed. Besties with Dexter since they both thought for a while that Dexter might be the prince in Kieran and Justine’s story, even though Kieran knew he was in love with Raven and was totally cool with it since they basically just see Dexter as a brother. Has had a crush on Hopper for years but never tried to make a move before Raven doesn’t sign the Storybook, but doesn’t hesitate to ask him out once the Royals and Rebels make peace. A Rebel who does also support those who like their destiny and want to go through with it, and their roommate (unfortunately) is Gus Crumb.

Molly Marian, daughter of Maid Marian, Darling ship, Ella Purnell FC. Has always hated the idea of her destiny, both because she hates that she doesn’t get to do anything important and because she thinks Sparrow is annoying and doesn’t want to get married to him at all (never mind the fact that she doesn’t even like guys). One of the biggest troublemakers at Ever After High because of this, because she is determined to make Milton’s life as miserable as possible before she has to sign the Storybook. The very first one, besides Maddie of course, to be on Raven’s side after Legacy Day, and is eternally grateful to the other girl for what she sees as saving her from the life she didn’t want. An absolute spitfire, fierce and defiant and never afraid to call out bullshit when she sees it, but also has a big heart and loves deeply. Has been pining for Darling from afar since they were kids, but doesn’t make a move until after the Wonderland adventure when she learns the other girl’s White Knight secret - they’re an absolute power couple when they do get together, though. Kind of becomes besties with Raven and Maddie after Legacy Day. Basically the original Rebel, and her roommate is Kitty Cheshire (which can be stressful sometimes, but most of the time she likes it).

Now, I don’t actually intend to properly introduce these guys or do much with them, but if you still want to ask any questions about them, feel free!! Hope you guys enjoy these babies!! <3

[ask-indigoskies]

New chapter update soon?

[viihxen]

From this day forward, I have a special hate for goblins ✨

[son1c]

What happens to all your sonic prime ocs at the end?

i feel like i've answered this before... but when i looked, i couldn't find the ask i was thinking of... so maybe i just made that up. oh, well.

prism dies. you knew this already. android prism does not die. though, nine really wants to kill him for awhile there. but he finds he can't--or, more accurately, won't--do it. :)

bullet is freed from his full-time-no-benefits-basically-just-imprisonment "job" working for the chaos council. the flickies are ok. he succeeded in protecting them. now he gets to enjoy their company and his life without the threat of imminent destruction weighing over him 24/7.

halcyon joins the megaflora hive. by choice. they come to understand each other, and their endless cycle of violence comes to an end. no one needs to die. the plants, scavengers, and refugee citizens of the space colony ARK can all live together in harmony, because the megaflora and halcyon are greater than their original purposes, and they can forge their own paths. together. it's quite beautiful imo...

windthrow has to say goodbye to his father figure, ""eggman,"" but he has the scavengers and halcyon now. he'll be alright.

bermuda gives up his grudge against the surface dwellers... for the most part. he's no longer actively trying to kill them at every moment, at least. so, what's left for him? he isolates himself for a while after the events of the show, sad in spite of himself that the first person who managed to gain his trust since the ARK incident--prime sonic--is gone, but there's always unfinished business in the sonic universe, and the final hazard looms for the world of No Place, necessitating the teamwork of him and his... bitter?... enemy, gale.

gale suffers for awhileee due to losing the chaos emeralds. after being fused with them for his whole life, their sudden absence makes him feel weak and disoriented. to make matters worse, bermuda's siren song--which he had previously been immune to thanks to the emeralds' protection--suddenly compels him. but bermuda is just as shocked as gale when he appears before him one stormy night, and quickly deems it an unfair advantage. though, it was certainly tempting to drag him under... bermuda just lets gale go, much to gale's confusion. what can i say? maybe there's some of lancelot's honor in bermuda after all.

regardless, gale continues adventuring like he always has.

[pursuitseternal]

“Loathing:” Chapter 2 to the ETL Astarion X Tav fic “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x F!Tav (OC) | E | 6k of angst / longing

Summary: He is darker, different, and for Cordehlia he is a constant reminder of what was. As their journey continues, truths come to light in the dark, and blood will be shed. Willingly and unwillingly.

Stargazing scene, Bite Scene, finding the Gur hunter

CW: blood, biting, jealousy and angst, manipulation and memories, slow burn feelings (that Astarion is bad with), bloodlust and regular lust, OC gets defensive of her newly found again love/hate interest

Previous Chapter | Read on AO3 | Master List

💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞🗡️💞

Restless. The night was restless. Well, not wholly. She did meditate deeply, enough to regain her strength, to rest her mind. But, as always, it was the dreams, plaguing her mind. For Cordehlia, it was probably more rife with ghosts than usual.

Every night is restless when you hear the echoes of battle and nurse the wounds of your heart.

All night, all she could feel was the cold, all she could see was crimson eyes and toothsome smiles. Her ears were filled with his voice, muffled, muted. He had whispered in her mind all night, words she remembered him offering her ages long ago… sweet, words like nectar, lapping at her wounded heart, promising himself to her, hers forever, until they found one another again in their next life… words that purred of her beauty, poetry that likened her hair as brighter than the flames, her eyes more captivating than the stars, her sex sweeter than honey from the comb…

That was when her eyes had flashed opened at last, waking to the grey light of dawn and a dying fire in the camp. Waking to find herself the first one stirring.

Nearly.

Except for him… where he perched outside his tent, looking over the pages of a book. His bright eyes ringed in shadows, as he stared at her, watching her eyes open, her body stretching and shifting.

His lip twitched slightly, a knowing smile as their eyes locked. Did he know how restless he made her… did he know how real her dreams were…

That’s when he stood. So graceful, so balanced. A true fighter, a true rogue. And, by the hells, so beautiful in the dawn. It was what he was made for, she always thought, to shine like the stars that still break the morning light. But that hardness still stiffened his face, his eyes still exacting and harsh. For a moment, Cordehlia thought he would approach, thought he would saunter over and wish her a good morning… but he stalked away to the treeline, the noises of the other companions catching her ear as they also woke in the dawn.

They each began to rise, the Wizard grabbing some of the goods collected, making a rough breakfast for everyone. He grunted as he lifted the pot to hang over the fire Karlach had stoked back up.

The backache of sleeping on the ground was nothing unfamiliar to Cordehlia, but still… unpleasant. She huffed as she stood, and while her body moved towards the rest of the group, her eyes kept scanning for Astarion.

Always in her thoughts, even when she wanted him out.

She sighed, folding her arms and nodding as Gale spoke about the Emerald Grove, a good next place to seek out cures and allies perhaps.

As the meager porridge was ladled into the various, mismatched bowls that made up the camp’s dishes, she couldn’t help but notice that he had not returned. Even for food.

“Looking for your old friend?” Gale asked, his voice quiet and soft as he sat next to her by the fire.

“He’s no friend,” she commented, blowing the steam from her food before trying it.

“He needs to be one now,” he replied, doing the same over his breakfast. “I suspect there is more to him than he wishes anyone to know, maybe even especially you, given your… history.”

She swallowed loudly, trying to lose herself in the pain of the hot food down her gullet than the ache in her heart that came from such matters. “History is often rife with pain and loss, Wizard,” she hissed. “I should know, I’ve lived centuries watching it… committing it.” She felt his eyes focus on the side of her face, but she would not give an inch as she spoke. “The long memory of the elves is their greatest joy and their deepest sorrow, Gale.”

“Mortals may not know hundreds of years at a time, but I do know of joy and sorrow too, my friend,” he whispered. “And if we have any hope of finding a cure, a way forward, we need him.”

A heavy sigh came from her little frame. “I know,” she muttered.

“And maybe, just maybe, you will find your way back to one another. Don’t you elves feel yourselves bound by blood?”

“Pfft, hardly,” she scoffed, turning an amused if skeptical glance at the mortal. “At least not with him.” She looked away quickly, hoping it was fast enough not to show the pricking tear in her eye. “That connection forged when we trothed beneath the stars was severed centuries ago.” Another sigh, so heavy her shoulders drooped. “Washed away by grief and spite like the rain waters.”

“Hmm,” Gale gave a considerate pause. Thinking. The man was always thinking. “It is a phrase humans have, that blood is thicker than water, not sure you’ve heard that one.”

Cordehlia arched one brow. “At my age, I’ve heard it all.” A wry smile teased at her lips at last. “But I appreciate the timely, apropos application, dear Wizard.”

“Happy to be of service, my lady,” he bowed his head.

But the She-elf instantly bristled.

“O-oh…” Gale sputtered. “I meant no disrespect, I…”

“Just… Cordehlia,” she muttered back. “No titles, no accolades. You can just use my name.” Her voice was flat, her muscles clenched, even as she smiled.

“It’s a beautiful name,” Gale nodded, eyes wide and soft. Relieved.

“Yes…” a voice chimed in from behind them both, where they sat side by side. “I thought so too, once it came creeping back to my memory.”

Astarion.

He perched behind, grinning that knowing, half-twisted smile as they both spun their heads. “At least… I’ll always be your first, darling,” he purred.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, just a twitch. Enough of a tell to goad him on, she realized.

“The first to know your true name, that is…” he added, sweeping down to sit beside the She-elf in that fluid and elegant motion of his.

“Knowing one’s name is not the same as knowledge of the person,” Cordehlia snapped, her hackles raised as Astarion reached across her lap to help himself to the bowl of piping hot porridge she had set down the second he appeared.

“Smells atrocious, Gale…” he raised the spoon, sticking out his tongue to give the tan gloop a lick, one far too sensual for its own good. “Tastes horrible,” he added before setting it back down. “Couldn't you have magicked something better?”

Gale just stared back, wry and disbelieving at his arrogance. “You’re welcome to try your luck at cooking for the camp next time, Astarion.”

“And possibly singe these perfect hands? Get food under my nails?” He gagged as he finished his whining. “I’d rather eat something raw…”

Something about the way he replied made Cordehlia stare at him just a little harder. His lip turned at the corner of his mouth. As if he thought himself terribly witty. The same glint shined in his eyes, a sparkle of mischief and self-indulgent humor. Just like it always had when he was up to something.

“Well,” Gale stood, clearly done with the Elf’s presence. “Since I’ve had my fill, I think I’ll get my things ready for our journey. Emerald Grove isn’t going to explore itself for a cure, you know.”

She could feel his look still on her as the wizard stood, trying to read her inscrutable expression. With a sigh, he relented trying to puzzle out his companion and left.

“Good riddance,” Astarion hummed, sliding his lithe body just a hint closer to where she still sat. “Let’s hope he’s better at magic than his cooking, my dear.”

“Would it kill you to try to be kind, Astarion?” She snapped, turning her head to face him at last.

“I am being kind,” he crooned, leaning just a bit closer, “you tasted that gruel, I could have said so many more dreadful things, you know.”

She snorted, her own dark humor tickled as he elbowed her in the arm. And even as he smiled back with those strange, red eyes squinting at her, it was the same shine, the same glint and the same creases that had always warmed her heart.

Dammit.

Then, his hand came to rest atop of hers. Where she had it splayed into the dirt beside her.

Just like he always used to.

For a second she closed her eyes, the shine of those happy days giving the chill in her heart a warmth of happiness. Of connectedness.

But it was a lie.

At least something was a lie, she realized as she ripped her hand out from the heavy, cold weight of his touch.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He hummed, “I thought you were all for getting to know one another again.”

Her voice was direct, steady and calm. “Then you can start by telling me the truth of what happened, when you’re ready of course. Until then,” she stood, brushing the pine needles from her breeches. “Until then, you’ll excuse me if I bide my time trusting you with more than watching my back in battle.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, politely, but through gritted teeth.

“And I hope, personally, our next adventure leads us to looting a pair of gloves for you, if you’re going to insist on touching me. Hells below, Astarion, the chill of ice seems to always be on your hands.”

“A wise idea,” he smirked slightly. Darkly. “Such insight for a seasoned fighter such as yourself.”

Cordehlia shook her head, leaving him at her feet. Feeling his gaze on her as she moved quickly away.

That gaze stayed on her all day. She could feel it. Observing. Assessing. Scanning her strengths and weaknesses. Gleaning details of how she fought, how she persuaded aid from any strangers they met, how she could leap and tumble and sneak with an ease remarkable even for her kind.

He followed in her wake all day, covering her back in battle just as she had asked.

And she knew it was his intention. The little ways he caught her eye during their fights, nodding as he removed obstacles behind them… ahead of them… dealing the heaviest, most damaging blows of any of their party.

If he was one of her men, she would have promoted him. Would have gone weak in the knees at his prowess. Gifted him with all her favors at his brutality, his vigor.

But he was not hers to command.

He was not hers… at all.

Her mind swirled with such memories and dreams, fighting to keep the most lustfilled ones as far from her mind as possible.

Which was only harder and harder to do as they all prepared the camp at nightfall again. Especially when she stumbled on him near his tent, lounging back on a bedroll, gazing with such wonder at the burst of stars that speckled the sky.

Cordehlia tiptoed closer, drawn by his relaxation. Remembering so many nights of doing the same, together.

“Coming to join me?” he purred, just a glance of his eyes to where she stood before they trained back into the heavens.

“I…” she began, but the way he scooted himself to make room on the leather and blankets, it was just… too much to resist.

Gods help me, she prayed. Nestling down alongside him, not so close they touched. But still too close for her to ignore that scent that clung around him now. Sharp and aromatic. Citrus and herbs.

Swallowing, she dismissed how it made her mouth water.

“Glad to see you come to your senses, darling,” he spoke just loud enough for her to hear without straining.

“You looked comfortable,” she offered as a reply. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You do more than just disturb me,” he sneered. “I have never felt more… unsettled. Confused. I have never felt freer, unchained from my enslavement, and yet…” he rolled on his side, narrowing his gaze at where she laid beside him. Her silver eyes like stars themselves as she stared into the lights above. Those heavenly mirrors her brightness. “What I… suffered… it made it impossible to remember things… about me from before. I have endured horrors. Torture. Centuries of darkest anguish. It was simply easier to find peace in feeling numb than clinging to… anything from before.”

He meant her. Easier than remembering her.

He scoffed softly, watching as she just kept her eyes above. But he could feel her breath burning in her lungs as she held it. Frightened to hear what more he might say. Frightened to scare him away.

“I would hate for us to part ways so soon, you know. Once we find the next… solution… to our parasite friends, will this all be over? Is this it?”

She breathed at last. “It doesn’t have to be, I suppose,” her voice was shaking. Gentle.

“Good,” he smirked before reaching to brush a single strand of her fiery red hair off her cheek. “Because you are quite the ally, quite the commander. You’ve survived so much, just like me, traversing Avernus, surviving the crash, surviving everything that has followed.”

His fingers brushed her cheek one more time, making her turn to finally meet his suggestive stare. And then he smiled, that half smirk that just pulled his face a little sharper, that made his eyes glow and glint with the passion inside him. “You are quite impressive too, you know…” he murmured as they locked eyes.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her belly rising and falling beneath her resting hands just a bit quicker. “You’re assuming I think you’re impressive as well, Astarion…”

“I have no need to assume, darling. I know,” he preened, that arrogance coloring his words, making them drip with pride. With seduction. “I know I’m impressive. And I know you already think it, darling. No one smiles that much in battle when your eyes lock into mine. No one’s heart beats so quickly at the slightest touch of my fingers over their skin if they don’t think I’m at least a tinge… impressive.”

And just to prove his point, he reached for her neck, ghosting his fingertips over it, her pulse pounding in her veins so hard, it must deafen her.

Her brow raised slightly, eyes sharp as she scanned his face. “You’re staring,” she murmured.

“Of course I am,” he eased into a smile. “Why wouldn’t I?” He stood to his feet gracefully and quickly. “But after gazing at such beauty, I think I’ll get some air, clear my head so as not to forget completely about the horrible parasite that swims in my mind.” He waved his long, elegant fingers at her where she still laid at his feet. “I’ll see you later I’m sure…”

“I’m sure,” she called after him, still staring into the sky, refusing to watch him tread into the forest. But she couldn’t help but add a little something more. Something sharper than those soft words he tried to whisper into her ear. “You look horrible, Astarion, don’t miss dinner later. You look like you need a good meal and a good rest.”

He stopped in his tracks, glancing over his broad and sloping shoulder. “Maybe I do…” he seemed to bristle as she refused to look at him. “Thank you for being so observant, my friend,” he chimed, if a bit sarcastically.

“Here to help,” she turned at last.

“Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep, darling,” he flashed her the fullness of his smirk, his canted brows and shining eyes.

She shrugged, a muted smile in return. “Thank you,” she added just before he began to turn. “For telling me a bit more of… what happened. I can see the pain when you speak of it, but I do not want you to think me.. ungrateful for the truth.”

He nodded his head, just once, before turning on his heel and heading for the trees.

Dinner came and went. Conversation turned unavoidably towards the fact that the mercurial rogue of the group still hadn’t returned.

Shadowheart laughed. “Well, didn’t he say he would rather eat something raw than suffer Gale’s cooking once more?” She sniffed a laugh through her little nose. “I wouldn’t put it past him with just how… vicious… he seems…”

Karlach gave her burst of a belly laugh in reply. “Sounds like someone has taken a fancy to the pale pretty boy!”

Gale’s eyes widened, his head snapping to check on Cordehlia. Her face was gaunt, even as she gave a laugh and made her full, pink lips smile. “You know,” he cleared his throat, “our leader, Cordehlia has a history with the Elf, isn’t that right?”

“Ancient history,” she added, a musical tone in her voice. One that seemed unnatural and forced. “But that is most of how time is measured for the Elves…”

“Oh,” Shadowheart stopped her mirth for a moment, “I am sorry. I didn’t know…”

“It is no matter,” the She-elf shook her head, the picture of reassurance.

Someone settled down in the circle of light. Tossing his silver hair, Astarion looked so very pleased with himself, sitting himself right between the cleric and Cordehlia, throwing them each a glance that bled conceit and oozed flirtation. “Don’t you worry,” he leaned back on his hand, lounging as if all eyes weren’t staring at him… amused, or jealous, or irritated, “I am a man of tremendous appetites. There’s enough of me to go around…”

The wizard gave an uncomfortable cough, as if he cleared his throat. “Umm, well, I’m turning in for the night,” Gale stood, dumping out the rest of his stew into the fire before leaving. But not without a concerned glance at the She-elf… not before he watched her face stiffen with all due stoicism, her eyelids fluttering rapidly as if she wasn’t thinking about reaching for her weapon to inflict some equal pain.

He sniffed, angrily… dismissively… before he left.

“I’m turning in too,” the She-elf followed the same procedure, remnants of her meal on the fire before she retreated to her bedroll nearby.

She tried not to look behind her.. tried to ignore the way he looked at her. The way that cleric seemed to give him a flirtatious if taunting smile. Dismissing the knots in her stomach and the enraged rapping of her pulse.

Second time today he made her heart feel like it would burst. And not for the same cause.

He was aggravating. Unbearable. So soft and yet provoking. Making her angry and aroused all at once. Perhaps that was the same as before between them. But that darkness, that delight he seemed to get from making her suffer, that twisted joy from forcing her feelings to ebb and flow at his will… it made every hair on her head tingle with suspicion, with dread. A reminder he was not as he always was.

She grit her teeth, trying to keep her mouth soft and her eyes open, even as all she wanted to do was scream and shove them both face first in the dirt. That lascivious rake of an elf and that powerful, if vapid, cleric.

But her body relented, drawn by the comfort of her bedroll. Maybe a little extra rest would help calm this bile that rose in her throat, she thought. Tucked int, she tried to chase away the memories of the past, turning over all the hints and clues to cures that came up over these last days.

At last, once all she could hear was the hiss and pop of the fire, her mind drifted away, thinking of the stars… of how they shined like his eyes once did… deep violet like the night, those gold and silver flecks in them like the lights themselves….

It made her hand search for a little something she had stowed away under her sheets.

As her fingers wrapped around her weapon, she breathed easier. Rest finally taking her under. Letting her soar. Until… something broke into her peace, a shadow that blocked the starlight.

And that’s when she woke.

His mouth hung above her, bearing down on her with fangs glinting in the fire. The second she stirred, he froze. Caught.

“Shit,” he hissed, he kept his arms framed over her head, his body still dangerously close. “Well, I was sure you’d figure out the truth sooner or later…” he purred, rubbing the tip of his tongue over his fang points.

That’s when he noticed something prodding into his ribs. The point of a stake in her hand, she smiled brightly up at him. “Sooner was the safer bet, old friend. Vampire. You never were skilled at being subtle… or planning ahead.”

“Or keeping your hands off pointy sticks,” he chuckled, grabbing her hand where she fisted the stake. “You’re more insightful than I gave you credit for, and I already admire you a lot, darling…”

“Oh please, it doesn’t take centuries of a life and years of battle to piece out your mysterious disappearance or why your eyes are crimson…why you’re colder than death or why you have yet to sit and eat a full meal with the rest of us.”

“Beautiful and brilliant,” he purred, still unrelenting as he caged her body. “It’s not what you think, however. I’m not a monster. I only feed on animals, boars and the like… but with all this fighting you've made me do, I’m just too slow… too weak. I haven’t been able to catch a decent meal for days because of how much you’ve pushed me.”

He was pouting. Eyes wide and wet, the perfect image of pleading innocence.

“Since it’s your demanding nature that has made me so hungry, I thought it only fair to come to you for a… solution. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer… fight better…”

“So you decide to lay the blame at my feet? To creep into my bed, deciding that I will just say yes to you because of our history?” Her eyes are wide and shining. Bright with rage. “You promise to make the effort to get to know one another as we are… you make absolute certain I find your every attack, every parry in battle utterly perfect… you touch me… flirting… then trying unsuccessfully to turn me green with envy by casting your attentions on the cleric…”

She snapped the last word, making him flash those fangs at her again.

“Well…” he breathed, “can you blame me? You are being rather stubborn… as you always have been, darling Cordehlia…”

Her hand struggled against his grip on her weapon, fighting as he pried it from her fingers, tossing it into the fire with a hiss of flame. Her breathing grew rough and ragged, that empty hand closing into a balled up fist. She pummeled it against his chest. “You say you’re not a monster,” she hissed, “you’re not giving me a lot of grounds otherwise.”

“Some females like monsters,” he lowered himself on her a little more. “Some crave the danger, the thrill of the hunt, the excitement of being devoured…” he softened his mouth. “Not that I have tasted anything other than vermin.”

“Save your breath,” she hissed. “I hate everything that you’ve become, Astarion.”

He gave a chilling smirk. All honey and sweetness in his voice, even as his eyes seemed to catch the fire to glow a brilliant red. “So be it, but I’m not going hungry tonight. I will be quenching my thirst one way or another.” He purred, lowering his mouth beside her straining neck, licking the curve of her pointed ear. “And don’t you want it to be from you, after everything we've been through?”

He felt so heavy, even with all his danger and threat… even if he could rip her throat out and drink her dry. Part of her heart was beating in her chest that he wouldn’t, couldn’t do that. But her mind raced. The reality of his words, his sweet lies shrouding that history between them. Loathing did burn bright inside her. But her body still melted into his. “Why do you keep referring to what was ours? Our past, our history… our love… You can’t even recall it…”

His hand wound behind her neck, those long fingers tangling into those fiery strands of her head. “I’m beginning to… I’d like to remember everything, but I won’t if I’m so hungry, I can’t think… I’ll never remember you if I die in a fight because you didn’t let me feed.” His eyes softened, his icy touch making shivers run up her spine. “I may not recall everything, but you, darling, you can. And I think it would break that poor starlight-kissed soul of yours if it was a certain cleric that I drank from tonight in your place… darling.”

Her chest heaved. Her own teeth gritted and bared as she struggled to decide. “Fine,” she sneered. “Fuck you, Astarion.”

“Now that was more in line with my thinking,” he rasped, placing a kiss on the ivory skin of her neck. “I’ll stash that suggestion away for later consideration, darling, but first things first.”

It was colder than ice. Sharper. Deadlier. The piercing of her flesh made her shiver but not in fear.

In ecstasy.

His lips sucked on her wounds, gentle and loud, deafening as he took swallow after swallow from her body. She could almost see it, feeling it as her blood filled him. Feeding him. Strengthening him. Making him full and hard and virile.

“That’s enough,” she snapped, hiding the moan in her voice as a grunt. Faking the pain to hide her pleasure.

The commanding tone made him slide right off, the vampire shuffled to his feet. His fingers dabbed the corner of his mouth, keeping most of that trickle of her blood for her to savor its sight as it cut down the pale skin of his chin. “My mind is clear. I feel strong, I feel… happy…”

“I feel bitten and bloodletted,” she hissed, getting to her feet too, chest rising and falling as she panted.

“You’re fine, darling,” he purred, contented like a cat bathing in sunshine. “Now, as delectable as you were, I’ll need something more substantial than your blood.” He trod towards the treeline, pausing to speak softly over his shoulder. “This is a gift, dearest Cordehlia. This, I won’t forget…. for all I have forgotten.”

He crept into the woods, somehow more silently, feral and strong. The predator out to hunt.

And as Cordehlia settled back down in her bed, she knew sleep would not come the rest of the night.

Not with how her thighs shook and her neck stung. But at least she could rest.

And try not to remember the way his kiss caressed her neck, even if it was while drinking from her veins.

As dawn began to seep its light over the trees, she heard him return. A deep sigh in his sated throat as Astarion returned to his tent.

Cordehlia fought through the woozy haze to stand. His eyes found her easily in the dim light as she slowly approached him. “Good morning,” he smiled politely, as if he hadn’t just hours ago snuck into her bed and sliced her with his fangs. “How do you feel?”

“What do you think?” She sneered softly. “Lightheaded from the literal pain in the neck you’ve given me.”

“Tch,” he grinned and sucked his teeth, conceited and rife with his pride. “It’ll pass. Just be glad I’m but a weak little spawn and not a true vampire. A bite from one of them might kill you… if you’re lucky.”

Her brows furrowed. “Spawn you might be, but not weak.” She corrected him, even before she realized the kind affect her words would have on him.

“Well…” he coughed, hiding how he was taken aback. “I appreciate the sentiment, even if in reality all I have of a vampire’s experience is their unquenchable hunger, and precious few of their powers.”

“Then why haven’t you done me the favor, then, of bursting into flames when the sunlight hits your flawless skin?” She taunted, a laugh in her voice, even as she needled him.

Her humor did not go unnoticed by the vampire. “Oh, I should be cinders in this light, you’re right. These… parasites… someone, or something, has changed the rules. I shouldn’t be surprised if I can wade through rivers and sneak into houses uninvited.” His eyes flashed with that glint of seduction. “And as for my other… quirks… we can figure those out in time.” He bared his pointed fangs in the rising sun as he drew a bit closer to her. “A little… trial and error… I’m sure I could use some more of your help with…”

Her mouth flattened into a line, unamused outwardly, even if her eyes had just a hint of laughter as she looked up into his smirking face. “Perhaps, if you remain on your best behavior. That means, dear vampire, you feed on what you can hunt…”

His face drooped. “But…” he grimaced, more pain on his face than she had expected.

“But what?” she pushed. Just a tinge aggressively.

“Well, it’s just… my master did the same,” his reply eked out through clenched teeth. “I’ve spent two centuries barely fed, living on the vermin, the rats and mice and bugs he would allow me to eat. And now that I’m free, now that I’m basking in the sun, surrounded by friends and those who wish to help me…”

He turned those wide, soft, crimson eyes down on her. They brimmed with pain. And while she knew what he wanted, that he was using it to manipulate her, get her to agree to something more between them… She paused, searching into his face. He was lean, strong but small. But for once, his face looked full, those shadows beneath his eyes vanished, that gaunt, sickly edge to his cheeks and jaw rounded out.

The effects of her blood, she knew.

“Alright,” she relented, narrowing her eyes, commanding even in compromise. “Animals you hunt, and, if it truly makes a difference to your strength, your health…”

His head cocked slightly. Waiting.

“…you may feed on me. But only in secret, and only if you ask, and I accept you.”

“Of course,” he smiled. Truly smiled. “I’ll be gentle with you in the future, my darling,” he purred again. That rakish smirk twisting his handsome features. “I’m just glad you’re being so very sensible and thoughtful about these revelations. I feared stakes and torches and pitchforks, to be sure.”

As if on cue, the rest of the party, obviously woken by the conversation, approached.

“A vampire? Of course we are traveling with a vampire,” Gale chimed in, “Word of warning, I taste disgusting.”

“I’ll make you catch on fire, pretty boy,” Karlach added with a laugh. “Not joking.”

“I—” Shadowheart started with a chilling smile.

“None of you need worry,” Cordehlia interrupted before anything more came from the cleric’s mouth. “Astarion knows his rules, and if he wishes to keep himself in the good graces of the group, he will abide by them.”

“Oh my honor,” he placed a hand on his dead heart and bowed. “Now, who wants to see how many enemies I can decimate today? Since, after all, I can fight with all my weapons, teeth included…”

______________________

High sun found them creeping in the Grove, mists swirling as they searched for some wise woman… someone who might know how to remove these parasites before they took hold.

But something stank, and Cordehlia wrinkled her nose as they spotted a stranger in their path. Tall and scarred.

“Greetings, and pardon the smell,” he waved kindly. “Powdered iron vine,”

The metallic, sour stink was so strong, she could taste it on her tongue.

“It’s an old hunter’s trick...” he grinned and patted his leather vest. “Monsters usually give me a wide berth of comfort even as I pursue them.”

Astarion crept forward, sidling right behind Cordehlia, every muscle in his lean and lithe frame clenched and throbbed. “You're a monster hunter? I thought all Gur were vagrant cutthroats.”

He rippled with tension, Cordehlia could feel it, sense it swirling under his skin. Muscles bundled with tension, Astarion’s long and lithe fingers slowly creeping for the hilt of his blades at his back.

“What are you searching for, friend?” she smiled softly, flashing her bright elven eyes at the Gur, tucking her fiery hair behind her pointed ears.

She could feel Astarion lean in behind her ear. “Yes, work that elven charm… make him trust you.”

“Nothing so fearsome. Just a vampire spawn,” the stagger waved his hand. Dismissive. Underestimating.

The tips of her ears grew hot. That veil of red began to draw over her eyes. “When you’ve been in these realms as long as I have, you learn not to underestimate anything created out of malice and subjected to horrors.” She paused a moment, reaching behind her quickly, pressing her palm against Astarion’s rigid arm. “I’m sure a spawn could rip out your throat if he wanted to…”

“And he does want to, mind you,” he whispered into the back of her head.

“True,” the Gur nodded appreciatively, “spawn are only weak when compared to their masters.” He looked only at Cordehlia, who certainly looked the part of a helpful, curious hero. Batting her eyes and nodding her head encouragingly.

“I have not heard of many vampire spawn in the woods,” she giggled. Giggled. “And besides, you would be hard pressed to find one in the daylight. Near impossible,” she rounded to look at her band, her bell-like, merry laughter peeling among them all. Even as she gave a look to her rogue. Warning.

“To true again, lady of the fair folk,” the hunter added his own laugh. “But this one, Astarion, he is special. I’m to find him and bring him back to my people. I’m hoping the hag of these lands can help me flush him out…”

“He must be special if you are hoping to cut a deal of blood price just to find him,” she added. That laughter in her voice turned. It chilled the spine. “But if he is but a spawn as you say, why go to such effort? After all, are not monsters only creatures we perhaps do not understand, some are not born to the dark.” Her shoulders went rigid. Her voice beginning to turn sharper. Harsher. “Some are made into the monsters they become, and not of their own choosing.”

“I assure you,” the hunter began to match her tone. “A monster is far simpler than that. Unthinking, unfeeling, driven by the dark and fed by evil.”

Astarion held his breath, watching as her hand flexed and twitched behind her back.

“If that were true, it would sound like quite the threat,” now her teeth were gritted.

Astarion could hear her blood in her veins. Pounding. Beating. Raging for action. She turned towards him. “Hmm,” he met those piercing silver eyes, they swirled with lights, her skin flushed and hot as she stared. As if he could read her thoughts. “Maybe we should do something about this threat?”

The corner of her lip quirked slightly. Only for a moment. “My thoughts exactly. So glad you are so sensible, Astarion.”

“That’s…?” The Gur looked into the sky, the bright sun still filtering through the forest enough to turn a vampire to ash. “It can’t be. It’s…”

“Impossible?” Cordehlia gave another chilling giggle. “Maybe you judge your so-called monsters too harshly…”

“As the so-called monster, may I?” the vampire asked so prettily.

“No,” she replied, pulling her own blade from her hip. “Together?”

“Oh I think I see what I liked about you before…” a feral, wild smirk darkened his face. That smirk deepened at the glint that he caught in her eyes. That look of bloodlust, of twinkling aggression. A kindred spirit, he thought for the slightest second before his favorite part. Launching at the enemy, blades shining. Hearts racing. Most satisfying thing he thinks they could do side by side.

Most satisfying thing, for now.

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (9) - A G/t BG3 fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

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Summary: Astarion brings Ria along with him to the heart of the Goblin Camp without the rest of the group knowing. However, before they can even get inside, things take a very unfortunate turn. In other words, this is the beginning of Ria's VERY bad day.

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: MOUTHPLAY WARNING!!! If you are uncomfortable with mouthplay or vore-ish themes, then DO NOT read this chapter! No actual vore occurs but mouthplay is VERY prominent. Don't worry, Ria will be completely fine, I promise. Swearing/course language, mentions of blood drinking, vampire stuff.

Word count: 2.4k

The smell of burning meat and alcohol hit Astarion’s nostrils well before he had even stepped foot into the Goblin Camp. While he preferred more refined company, he did relish in the chaos that goblins often brought with them – and it was clearly abundant in the stronghold of the camp as he followed behind Gale, Wyll, and Karlach. Lae’zel and Shadowheart had reluctantly been nominated to look after the camp while the others were away, much to both the half elf’s and gith’s dismay. He wondered if they would kill each other while he and the others were gone.

His stomach grumbled as dozens of goblins flitted around a roasting spit, cooking what smelled like dwarf meat, as they downed pints of alcohol. Seeing this many exposed necks and pulses made the never-ending ache in his stomach worsen. Soon enough he would be able to feed – thanks to Ria persuading the group, he could drink all the goblins dry if he wished once they were done with the leaders.

Ah, yes, the little snack in my pocket…

He was so swept up in the moment that he almost forgot about the tiny passenger that he was carrying. She hadn’t stirred since they had left camp and he wondered if she had in fact fallen asleep. Her small heartbeat had slowed down considerably as well.

His hand hovered over his breast pocket where Ria was concealed inside, and he gave the pocket a little tap to alert her that they had arrived. Almost immediately the borrower inside began to stir, her tiny heartbeat increasing as he felt her squirm against his chest.

Scanning the area, he noticed that everyone else had gathered towards the centre of the camp. Karlach, Gale, and Wyll were standing near a small stage where Volo, a poor bard that he and the others had met in the Emerald Grove some time ago, was performing some terrible rendition of Dror Ragzlin. They seemed completely enthralled by Volo’s presentation as they didn’t even bat an eyelid towards Astarion’s direction.

“Oi! You smell funny, mister.”

Astarion blinked and swiftly turned his gaze downwards to see a female goblin standing directly in front of him.

“How polite of you to say,” Astarion sneered, sharpening his gaze at the little goblin. “And you smell utterly dreadful. Is that all you wanted to say to me or can I be on my way?”

The goblin chose to ignore his statement and instead took a deep inhale of air through her nose. Her eyes grew as big as saucers as she inhaled and she stared at him intently.

Shit. She can smell Ria.

“There’s something in your pocket, isn’t there?” The goblin said, folding her arms across her chest. “I can’t quite make it out, but it’s different to whatever poxy perfume you have on, and the smell of blood in yer mouth.”

“That’s not for you to know,” Astarion hissed, flashing his fangs at the goblin. “Why don’t you mind your own business. Unless you want my fangs to meet that green neck of yours, you best move along.”

The female goblin nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing Astarion’s perfectly white fangs flash in the sunlight and she immediately backed away from him.

“S-shit, sorry!” she exclaimed, panic evident in her voice. “I didn’t think a blooming blood-sucker could walk in the sun…you must be some freak or somethin’.” The goblin quickly scampered off, not daring to look behind her as she vanished into the hazy crowd.

The sudden outburst seemed to garner some attention as a few goblins had stopped what they were doing and eyed him up curiously. There was no doubt that they could also partially smell Ria’s scent to some extent, too. It seemed that his own scent wasn’t quite enough to mask the borrowers unfortunately. If any of the goblins stopped to really smell him, then he would be in trouble.

He had to get out of there. And fast.

Astarion wasted no time in melding into the shadows, something that came very naturally to him as a vampire spawn, and quickly vanished from sight. Ria was still safe inside his pocket for now, but he knew if the goblins were made aware of a borrower in their midst, it could end very badly for her. Perhaps it would be a good idea if they could mask her scent somehow. He snuck behind a large stone pillar, now out of sight from the masses of goblins and his own companions.

“Astarion?” Ria’s small voice chimed from inside his pocket.

He opened the lip of the pocket and glanced downwards at the tiny passenger he was carrying. He would never say it aloud, but as her little face stared up at him, he couldn’t help but to admit she did look rather cute. She was so tiny, so vulnerable, so fragile – it would be so easy for her to become injured if he wasn’t careful.

Not that he cared if she got hurt. She was just a borrower after all, nothing more.

So…why was he feeling a sudden urge of protectiveness when he looked at her?

He shook his head, dismissing the thought from his brain.  

“Are you just going to stare at me or will you tell me what’s going on?” Ria asked, bringing Astarion back to the present.

He blinked and flashed her a grin. “Well, I was just thinking that it might be a good idea to disguise your scent, darling.”

Ria’s eyes widened in realisation. “Oh…right. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that…” Her voice trailed off as her brain tried to think of a solution. “Maybe I should’ve thought about that before we left.”

“Perhaps that would’ve been a good idea,” Astarion commented. “It’s just fortunate that the goblin from earlier didn’t press me further. I thought my scent would be enough to mask yours, but it seems that you just smell so…” He paused as a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

Appetising. That’s what he was going to say, but he held his tongue. He knew that teasing her like this when she was only just starting to trust him a little was a bad move, especially after she had asked him not to call her things like that from now on. Still, he couldn’t deny that she did smell delicious. Even with the masses of goblins around him – who significantly had plentiful more blood – her blood sung to him the loudest out of everyone there.  

“So…what?” Ria said, her tiny brow furrowed as she craned her neck up at him.

“Never mind,” Astarion chuckled lightly, attempting to shake the growing thoughts of hunger out of his brain. “Well, you know what I mean, anyway. I’m sure you heard the conversation with the goblin. We really do need to hide your scent somehow.”

“You do have a point.” Ria pursued her lips in thought. “I need to have a better look at what’s going on outside.”

He watched the borrower as she wriggled around until her tiny head just barely managed to peak out from the lip of the pocket. He imagined she must’ve been standing on tip toes just to reach that high.

Ria’s gaze searched the Goblin Camp, concentration hardened her facial features as she tried to think of what to do. After a few moments, her eyes finally settled on a large tub where some goblins were collecting alcohol from.

“That’s it!” Ria exclaimed, pointing towards the tub full of booze on the other side of the camp.

Astarion glanced down at the borrower and then his gaze flicked to the giant tub of booze she was pointing at. Multiple goblins were walking up to the tub to take a swig of alcohol in large mugs, some of them downing their drinks as if it were only water.

“Hm, the pungent alcohol would most certainly cover up your scent,” Astarion said. “But getting you in the alcohol, however, seems like a risky move. Are you sure about this?”

“You’re a rogue! Use some of that dexterity of yours!” She flashed him a small smirk. “Just dip me in the booze quickly and then I’ll be out in a second. I’m sure a vampire spawn can handle that.”   

Astarion arched an eyebrow, wondering just where the sudden burst of confidence that she had was coming from. Not long ago she had been deathly afraid of letting him hold her, now she was placing even more of her trust in him to pull off a stunt that could backfire badly if he didn’t do it carefully. Still, he wasn’t going to let a borrower downplay him like that.

“If you insist,” he replied. “And I suggest we do it quickly. We really don’t want to attract any more attention to ourselves.”

Ria gave him a small nod in reply before she vanished into the inside of his pocket again to conceal herself. With their new goal in the forefront of his mind, he clung to the shadows of the camp to pass by unseen until he reached the large tub. Very swiftly he reached into his shirt pocket and plucked Ria in between his index finger and thumb and leaned towards the large tub of booze.

“Do it!” Ria whispered fiercely.

Before Astarion could do anything, a strong force collided into the back of his legs, causing Ria to fall out of his fingers as he was knocked forwards. All he could do was watch as the little borrower fell out of his grasp, followed by a small plop as she disappeared into the liquid.  

Shit!

Seething with anger, he whipped his neck around to see who the culprit was and his gaze fell on a goblin who looked like they were on the verge of passing out.

“Oh man, I could go for another-HIC!” The goblin spluttered, the smell of beer radiating from his mouth as he wobbled around to gain his footing before passing out on the floor.

Astarion rolled his eyes and hastily returned his attention back to Ria, who was now, quite literally, swimming in the tub of alcohol.

“Hey, you’re holding up the line!” A raspy voice hissed to his left, and he noticed yet another goblin standing close to him. “Hurry up and grab a drink, we all want some!”

Growing somewhat stressed now, Astarion snatched up a nearby cup before returning his attention back to the tub. Ria had fortunately resurfaced, looking rather dishevelled and shaken up, but otherwise she was alright. He wasted no time and scooped her into his cup, keeping it close to his chest as he attempted to sneak away from the masses of goblins that were starting to cluster around them.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” The same goblin with the raspy voice from earlier tugged on his armour, stopping him in his tracks.

Astarion immediately grimaced.

This can’t be good.

“Don’t mind me,” Astarion replied through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to turn invisible. “I’m just passing through.”

“Not without having a drink you’re not!” The goblin persisted, clearly somewhat drunk, and clung on stubbornly to his light armour. “You look as pale as a bloody ghost. I’m not letting you go until you’ve drunk every drop from your cup!”

The commotion had now brought even more attention to him, as Astarion quickly realised that multiple sets of eyes were glued to his frame and watching his every move. No matter how he looked at it, there was no getting out of this.

He tentatively gazed down into his cup, and saw Ria’s little face staring up at him with pleading eyes. She could obviously hear everything that was going on, and judging by the petrified look that was painted across her face, she knew exactly what he was going to do.

“Go on!” The goblin pulled on his armour once more, and Astarion had to restrain himself from biting the creature’s head off with how hard they pulled at the fine fabric. “You could do with some colour in your cheeks.”

He pulled his lip into a thin line as his gaze flicked back down to where Ria was sitting in his cup. All the colour had drained from her face as she stared at him with watery eyes, she looked as if she had been crying. Knots twisted in his stomach as he felt a wave of dread wash over him as he tried to rack his brain to think of an alternative. If he pretended to drink, there would be the chance of Ria falling out of the cup and to her death, which he wasn’t going to risk.

The only other option was to drink.

He gave her a wink before mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry,’ silently to her, and her eyes widened in response as he brought the cup towards his lips. The beer hit his tongue and he immediately had to force himself not to spit out the liquid as he took a forceful gulp. He had never been one for beer, wine, on the other hand, or better yet, blood, was more to his liking, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice in the matter. His attention on the beverage was soon replaced as he felt something soft and warm press up against his lips.

Ria.

Her tiny hands were pushing against his lips, her body squirming as gravity pushed her rather forcefully towards his mouth. He was very careful not to swallow her, and rather gingerly he used the tip of his tongue to push her tiny body away from the inside of his mouth so that she wouldn’t fall in.

He pulled the cup away from his lips and glanced downwards at the goblin. The goblin was still stubbornly standing beside him with narrowed eyes, very clearly not impressed with his half empty cup.

“I said drink all of it you elf pansy!” The goblin exclaimed. “That was merely a sip! Come on, you aren’t leaving until all of that is completely gone, and I’m going to look at your cup afterwards, so make sure you guzzle it all down!”

Oh dear.

If the goblin was going to investigate his cup afterwards, he had to ensure that it was completely empty.

Ria wasn’t going to like this.

Very slowly the cup was brought to his mouth once more, and this time he took a hungrier gulp than before. He could smell the overwhelming fear from Ria as she was once again pressed against his mouth, her tiny hands scrambling across his lips, and this time, he didn’t stop her from falling inside. With a final gulp, the borrower disappeared into his mouth and he sealed his jaws shut.

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hi, I'm Alice!

I'm a published author with a BA in English looking for a way to express my creativity and develop my craft while on my trad-publishing journey.

I'm so happy you're here.

I love all things dark academia, horror, fantasy, and romance, and blend them with abandon in my work.

If you're interested in reading my self-published work, you can find the Raith Brothers Trilogy on Bookshop or the 'zon.

Or, check out my Linktree 🫶

Rules-

1. No characters under 18

2. Credit my work always without exception

3. Do not use an OC without written permission from myself

now, the good stuff...

Fandoms I write for:

Harry Potter (fuck the terf who shall not be named!)

GOT/House of Dragons

LOTR/Hobbit

Baldur’s Gate 3

Stranger Things

Twilight

Vox Machina

Draco Malfoy

Favorite Characters:

Marauders/Wolfstar

Regulus Black/The Emeralds

Fred & George Weasley

Jaime Lannister

Aemond Targaryen

Sandor Clegane (the Hound)

Damon Targaryen

Aragorn

Bard the Bowman

Thranduil

Eddie Munson

Gale Dekarios

Astarion

Halsin

Steve Harrington

Charlie Swan

Jim Hopper

I will also be sharing snippets from my novels, as well as fics about OC’s, poetry, and teaser blurbs from current WIP’s.

Carlisle Cullen

Paul Lahote

Emmett Cullen

Jasper Cullen

Vax'ildan

Percy De Rolo

Much love,

Thank you for being here, and I hope you find something in my work that resonates!

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[mumms-the-word]

In Fathoms Below - Ch. 2

Ch. 2 - The Launch

Characters: Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Gortash + other OCs; pairing is Gale x fem!Tav Plot: The island city of Nautera disappeared over 4500 years ago, if it ever existed at all. Now not a single, legitimate record of Nautera exists, save for one. The Nauterran Account. Long thought lost, it has recently been retrieved from the depths of Candlekeep’s archives and placed into the capable hands of one Gale Dekarios. With the Nauterran Account in hand and an eclectic team of Baldurians and other allies mounting an official expedition, Gale journeys to find the ruins of Nautera…but hopes to find so much more. A/N: Gale is meeting the team and the submersible is about to launch! For those curious about where a certain pale vampire is, don't worry. He's around here somewhere. Also, have some mood music!

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Lord Enver Gortash. It wasn’t a name that Gale immediately recognized, but the man carried himself with an air of confidence and self-importance that was impossible to deny. Whoever he was to the city of Baldur’s Gate, it was someone of significance.

Gortash straightened from his subtle bow to offer Gale another charismatic smile. “I’m in charge of this little expedition, at the behest of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard himself. It has been a lifelong dream of mine—and his—to locate the fabled Nautera. When we heard that there was an ancient record of the islands and that there might be a man capable of reading and deciphering it—well, it was practically a dream come true. We wasted no time in organizing this expedition to seek out the fabled city. Rest assured, I’ve gathered only the finest to ensure our success. Including you, naturally. You’ve come highly recommended.”

Gale struggled to keep up. Recommended by who, Elminster? And how did this man know about the Account when not even Gale had been certain it still existed until only a few short days ago? And Ravengard—that was a Baldurian name, if he recalled. One of four Grand Dukes that ruled the city. If this was a Baldurian expedition, why had Elminster arranged for him to join? Then again, perhaps he ought not to look a gift submersible in the mouth...

He set those concerns aside for now. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Gortash.” 

“Likewise.” Gortash snapped his fingers at the drow woman. “Minthara. Gather the others will you? We can have a little debrief before we launch.”

Gale didn’t miss the withering look Minthara shot at the back of Gortash’s head, but she turned and left even so. In the meantime, Gortash gestured toward the githyanki, who was watching them both with a sour expression, her arms still crossed over her chest.

“This is—”

“I am capable of introducing myself, istik,” she said, cutting her eyes briefly at Gortash before settling her gaze back on Gale. She straightened and lifted her chin. “I am Lae’zel of K’liir. No doubt I will be this expedition’s strongest fighter, should the need arise.”

“Lae’zel is here to offer her people’s expertise on Nautera,” Gortash said, appearing unruffled by her interruption. “The libraries of K’liir contained quite a few tir’su slates with accounts of the islands. I’m sure the two of you will have much to discuss as we draw closer to the city.”

“Truly?” Gale couldn’t help but be intrigued. “I confess, I’ve always wanted to learn tir’su. No doubt time in your company will prove valuable to us both.”

“Save your words, istik,” she said, settling back against the table and folding her arms again. “I offer only that which is necessary, be it in words or with blades. I do not chatter.” 

“Ah…duly noted.” 

Gortash chuckled. “Don’t mind her. She’s like that with everyone. Ah, here we have our healers. This is Halsin Silverbough of the Emerald Grove and Shadowheart, a cleric who has offered her services to the cause.”

“You must be the translator we’ve been waiting for,” Halsin said, nodding to him. “Well met.”

“Funny,” Shadowheart said, looking Gale up and down. “I thought you’d be more…”

“More…what?” Gale tilted his head. “Dashing? Roguish? Elegantly dressed?”

She pursed her lips. “More of a peacock, I suppose. Your reputation precedes you.” Her gaze settled briefly on his silver Mystran earring before returning to his face.

“Ah. I dare not ask which reputation you’re referring to, if that’s the case,” he said, laughing somewhat awkwardly. He could just imagine what the others had heard about him by now, especially if Elminster had arranged for him to join up.

But just as she noticed his earring, he couldn’t help but notice the symbol on the circlet she wore over her hair—a round black disk like a new moon. Any follower of Mystra would recognize that symbol. It was the mark of Shar, one of Mystra’s longest and most relentless divine enemies. The two goddesses absolutely hated each other.

Curious that there would be a Sharran cleric on board. But if she was here as a healer, perhaps she intended to do no harm. Or so he hoped. He offered her his most charming smile and a little bow.

“Rest assured, I’m more than happy to offer my services to the expedition. The discovery of Nautera is not something a man simply passes up.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gortash said, flashing him a quick grin. “Ah, and I know you’ve met Karlach.”

“Hello again, Gale,” Karlach said, giving him a little wave. He waved back.

“And this is young Wyll Ravengard, son of Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard.”

“At your service.” The young man bowed gracefully before rising and offering Gale a smile. Gale noticed that one of his eyes had been replaced with a smooth, stone eye and that there were several scars on his face and neck.

For a young son of a grand duke, Wyll didn’t look the part. This man had clearly seen trials the like most could only find in their nightmares. Still, it was curious that he was here. From what little Gale recalled of Baldurian nobility, Ulder Ravengard only had one son, and this expedition was sure to be dangerous at times.

Wyll's presence must be a hint of Ravengard’s confidence in the success of the expedition...or else there was some other, darker reason no one dared to name. Gale hoped it meant the former.

“And finally,” Gortash said, as the drow woman returned to the table, “allow me to introduce our general, Minthara of House Baenre. She has brought with her a retinue of drow scouts and soldiers that will no doubt be invaluable as we explore any Underdark passages along the way.”

“I also serve as the second-in-command for this expedition,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “And I suffer no disobedience of any kind. If you will not listen to Lord Gortash, you will listen to me. Is that clear?”

“As crystal,” Gale said, trying to look sincere. He glanced around the group, trying to match faces with names and names with occupations. Gortash, the lord and leader. Minthara, the general. Karlach, the bodyguard. Wyll, the young noble. Halsin, the druid healer. Shadowheart, the cleric. And Lae’zel, the githyanki soldier and tir’su expert.

An ecclectic group if he ever saw one. He couldn’t fathom why half of them cared about finding the ruins of an ancient city. At worst they would find nothing, save perhaps stone blocks and broken pottery, and at best they’d locate ancient writings, perhaps a rare fragment of the legendary mythallar. Gale knew what he wanted out of the trip—answers about Nautera and its relationship with Netheril as well as the pride in knowing he had proven generations of Candlekeep scholars wrong—but he dared not wonder why the rest were interested.

Perhaps it was better that he did not know…for now.

“Now,” Gortash said, clasping his hands together. “There are plenty more important people to meet but you can make those introductions along the way. We had best be off. Gale, you will be sharing a bunk with Halsin and Wyll while aboard the submersible. I trust they can show you the way?” At Wyll and Halsin’s nods, he continued, “Splendid. Everyone, we will meet at the helm in exactly one hour. If you’re not inside the submersible, you’ll be left behind. And, Gale…” 

Gale paused just as he was turning away to follow Wyll and Halsin down toward the submersible. He faced Gortash again, finding himself caught beneath the Baldurian lord’s dark, unreadable gaze. Gortash’s smile, however, was as charming and practiced as ever.

“Bring your little book. We’ll have need of it.”

-----

The interior of the submersible was nearly all metal. Metal sheets, metal pipes, metal grates, metal bolts. If it wasn’t metal, it was thick glass that peered out into the blue depths beyond. While not entirely unwelcoming, it was certainly different from the creature comforts Gale was used to in his Waterdhavian wizard’s tower.

The bunks, at least, looked passably comfortable, though Gale was a bit disappointed that there was no chance of a private room. Still, Wyll and Halsin seemed sensible, even friendly company.

“How does a young noble and a druid come to join an expedition like this?” he asked them as he dropped his pack onto the only available bed in the room. It was little more than a narrow padded mattress with a thin pillow and a blanket folded at one end, but it was his now.

Wyll, leaning against a ladder-like set of rungs that led to a bunk over Gale’s, gave a light shrug. “It’s a legendary city at the bottom of the sea, like a fairy story of old. What's not to enjoy? I wanted to see it for myself and my father was only too happy to negotiate a place for me...so here I am.”

Gale noticed a shift in Wyll’s voice at his last sentence, but couldn’t quite discern the meaning or emotion. Wyll’s pleasant expression and soft smile were polite, but impenetrable. If there was more to his tale than he was letting on, there was no way for Gale to know it.

“I take it you’re interested in the legends and the history of Nautera, then?” Gale asked.

“Only what I don’t already know. I’ve heard the stories, of course.” Wyll began to gesture with his hands, as if painting the scene. “A fabled city on a distant island, home to a thousand wonders of every kind. Flying ships, walking stone creatures, marvels and magic and more. Only for it to disappear over the span of a single day. One day it’s there, another island in the vast sea, and the next—” he snapped his fingers, “—gone. Not even a rock jutting up from the water to suggest it was ever there.” 

He smiled and dropped his hands, shrugging. “They say the person who finds Nautera will be granted one wish, whatever their heart desires. But I’m not so sure that’s true.”

“Perhaps not, but there are always elements of truth even in the midst of a fairy story or a legend,” Gale said. “Perhaps wishes were granted there, back when it was above water.” 

He turned to Halsin, who was seated on the bunk opposite, his wooden staff resting on his knees. “What of you? I’m surprised to see a druid of the forests showing an interest in an underwater city.”

Halsin smiled faintly. “It is odd, and this…submersible is unnatural to me. But I was told there was a need for a healer, and I have been many strange places in my modest life. To see the ruins of a civilization that predates my own people…such marvels are not to be ignored, I think. I am here to be of service and to satisfy my own curiosity.”

“Then our interests align. Though I hope we will not need to rely on your services too much, Master Halsin.”

“Just Halsin, please,” the old druid said, chuckling. “And I agree. Though if the need arises, I can be useful in other ways.”

Before he could explain further, there was a sharp knock just outside the bunk room. A young man in uniform leaned in through the open doorway. “Saers, you’re wanted at the helm. We’re to launch in a few minutes.”

“We’ll be right there,” Wyll responded, and the young man disappeared. Wyll took a deep breath and turned to smile at Gale and Halsin. “We’d best be off. I hear the best place to witness a submersible launch is at the front.”

He and Halsin ducked out of the room, the tall elf literally hunching to make it through the rounded, low doorframe. Gale made sure to retrieve the Nauterran Account and tuck it carefully into his satchel, alongside his spellbook and a few other supplies, before following them out of the bunk room. 

The helm featured an impressive array of controls, dials, levers, and gauges, all manned by various pilots, including one surly-looking blonde dwarf at the very front. Overhead, bolted sheets of metal made up part of the sloping, dome-like ceiling before transitioning to curving panels of thick, reinforced glass between metal bars, giving them a clear view of everything immediately ahead and above them, and a fair view of the sides too. At the center of the room, a large, curving, mahogany desk and a surprisingly plush chair took up much of the space, looking elegant yet out of place, as if they had been teleported in from someone’s office back in the city. Someone had laid out several maps and navigation tools on the surface. The chair was unoccupied at the moment, but Gortash stood just to the side of it, hands clasped behind his back, watching the pilots work. 

A few paces away, Karlach shifted restlessly on her feet, tapping her fingers against her thigh and turning her head this way and that, as if trying to catch all the action going around her. Minthara, Lae’zel, and Shadowheart stood nearby, with Lae’zel and Shadowheart eyeing each other darkly and Minthara ignoring both of them to stare over the head of a gnome pilot messing with specific controls.

Gortash glanced over his shoulder and noticed the three of them entering. “Ah, good. You’re here, just in time to watch the magic happen. So to speak,” he added, sending a grin Gale’s way. 

Before Gale could respond, Gortash turned away and directed his next words to the blonde dwarf at the front of the room, where a big metal ship’s wheel was waiting. “Redhammer, begin the launch and take us out to the open sea.”

“Aye, saer.” The dwarf pulled one of the levers and took the wheel. “Commencing launch.”

All around the room, various pilots began to flip switches, pull levers, and turn wheels, calling out responses or numbers that Gale could make no sense of and watching various screens and gauges as they worked. He felt the floor beneath him shudder as distant engines roared to life, the dull rumble and vibrations reaching them even there in the helm. The excitement in the room was palpable. Gale’s heart began to pound and his blood began to race through his veins, all in anticipation of the launch. 

All at once the entire submersible gave a downward lurch, as if being dropped or let go, and a flurry of bubbles billowed up against the glass. Gale moved to a free space near one of the windows, out of the way of the pilots, watching as more curtains of bubbles bounced and twirled upward as the seacraft began to lower gently away from the docks. He felt his ears pop as they sank lower and lower and began to turn away toward the deeper blue of the ocean depths.

No turning back now.

“Watch those power gauges, boys,” Redhammer said, directing his fellow pilots. “Steady now. Increase engines one and three and bring them to thirty percent.”

The rumble from the engines louder grew until it was a sonorous thrum in the background, the vibrations beneath Gale’s boots now a constant drone. Outside the submersible, the massive metal fins on either side came to life, frightening and scattering several fish that had ventured too close. He felt the seacraft tilt and adjust before it fell into a steady, subtle rocking pattern, like that of an undulating whale, as it began to move forward. It wasn’t unlike the rocking of a ship on the sea, though perhaps more regulated. 

As they moved away from the docks and out toward the open expanse of the ocean depths, they cut through fronds of thick, towering kelp, sending fish and other creatures fleeing through the waving undersea plants. It was surreal to watch the underwater world pass by them through the windows of the submersible, almost as if he were seeing merely illusion rather than reality.

“Whoa…” He turned to see that Karlach had joined him at a nearby window, staring out of it in wide-eyed wonder. Her glowing eyes were even more alight as she took in the waving plants, the fish, and the bubbles as they moved through the water. “We’re really doing this…”

Her wonder bolstered his own and he offered her a somewhat crooked smile. “Nervous?”

She glanced sidelong at him and laughed. “Too late for that now, soldier. Besides, Gortash doesn’t pay me to be nervous.”

Redhammer’s voice called out again. “All engines to forty-five percent. Take us down ten degrees down-angle and hold us steady.”

Working in tandem, the pilots pivoted the seacraft and maneuvered it downward, increasing the speed until they were moving along at a noticeable clip. The kelp forest quickly gave way to rocky reefs with sparse coral and from there to gray, silty sand that disappeared into darkness the farther they descended. The sunlight overhead grew fainter and fainter until at last they were enveloped by inky blue and cobalt, the waters ahead illuminated only by the brilliant enchanted lights that shone outward from the front of the submersible. 

Beyond the reach of the seacraft’s lights, the depths below beckoned, looking like a vast, empty void of velvet black. Gale held tighter to his satchel, his eyes on the dark waters ahead. He was loathe to pray to any goddess other than Mystra—and even she hadn’t been listening to his prayers lately—but he was tempted to offer a meek prayer to Umberlee, the chaotic goddess of the seas. They were in her territory, after all...

And at the mercy of her infamously temperamental whims. The darkness of the depths was a tangible reminder of their tentative place in her domain, because, as any Waterdhavian knew, the Bitch Queen was more than capable of summoning a creature from the depths to sink a ship.

A massive submersible diving into her depths would only be that much more annoying to her, and that much more susceptible to destruction. Gale could only hope her attention was diverted elsewhere.

[this-bard-cannot-sing]

The Worthy

Chapter 1 - The Roaming

Masterlist here

Summary:

The Drow woman continued down the narrow street. Amidst all of the noise, a soft, clear voice from above caught her attention. "Oi, black haired beauty! You lookin' for some comfort?" She turned her red gaze up towards the source and saw a very busty dwarf in a very tight dress leaning out of a window. The Drow woman was surprised--the dwarf was addressing her! The dwarf was trying to pose in a way that accentuated her heaving bosom when she noticed the black haired beauty was a Drow.  "Ooh, my my. Look at this, Sorn. She a relative of yours?"

A tall, onyx skinned Drow appeared behind the dwarf and he leaned slightly out the window to peer down at her. He wore a revealing vest which showed every sculpted muscle on his torso. His dark gaze traveled up and down the Drow woman's frame, making her blush. He took in the patched leathers and frayed cuffs. "Hmm, afraid not dear Ariadne. A Drow from my household wouldn't be caught dead in an outfit like that."

Warnings: racism, graphic violence, slow burn, angst, anxiety/panic attacks, AFAB main character

Pairings: Gale x OC

Author Note: This fan fiction follows the exploits of my OC character, Wren, a Drow barbarian raised by fey and caught up in a nautiloid invasion. This story takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3. I took some liberties with Gale in this chapter, seeing as it's not very clear where he was when abducted by the mind flayers. He never mentions Waterdeep under attack, so I made the assumption that he was in Baldur's Gate when it happened. Seeing as Tara is there as well, this made the most sense.

The gentle, summer breeze whispered through the Drow woman's hair as she slumbered high in the branches of an ancient elm. The sun had barely rose on Faerun. Birds began to sing their greetings to the new day. Still, the Drow slept soundly.

 A small bird with brilliant blue feathers was brave enough to land on her shoulder. Oh, thought the blue bird, what lovely, soft hair. This will be perfect for my mate's nest. The bird began pulling at her black locks.  After a particularly rough tug, the Drow's hand snapped forward and caught the offending bird in her calloused hand, all without opening her eyes. The little bird panicked and pecked at the Drow's hand. He tried wriggling out of her firm grasp, but to no avail.

The Drow slowly opened her eyes and turned her red gaze on the offending bird. The bird began chirping in alarm, calling on any of his feathered friends to aid him. That's when the Drow cooed at him.

"Hush now, little one," whispered the Drow, "I'm not going to hurt you." She nimbly raised herself to a seated position to get a better look at her captive. "Is this what you want?" Her merle-blue fingers raked through her black hair. The bird stopped chirping and gazed at the soft strands. He trilled. The Drow woman took that as a yes.

"If I place you on this branch, I can cut some hair for you, ok?" said the Drow. The bird trilled again. She gingerly placed him on the branch above her. The bird took a deep breath of relief and shook his ruffled feathers. He watched her intently has she removed her dagger from her boot and took a collection of strands from the nape of her neck and sliced through it. She held the strands in the air for the bird and said, "There you go."

The blue bird hopped up and down on the branch in excitement. He quickly swooped and landed on the Drow's knuckles and pulled the hair from her fingers. In a final trill of thanks, the blue bird flew away into the emerald shadows of the forest.

The Drow woman gave a chuckle and replaced her dagger into her boot. She stroked the much shorter strand of hair hanging from her neck as she stared off across the forest canopy to the towers and spires of Baldur's Gate. She had never seen a city so large. She had a faint memory of Menzoborazzan from her childhood, but that was long ago. Even at this distance and height in the trees, she could see the glint of thousands upon thousands of windows. Not even her home of Greencliffs could boast that many windows.

Well, nothing is going to happen up here, she thought. She stretched her arms above her, trying to wring the sleep from her muscles. She nimbly stood and grabbed her pack that hung from another branch. She tossed it onto the ground below. The Drow then turned her attention back towards the tree and found her handholds and foot holds that helped her scale the ancient elm the previous night. As nimble as a cliff tiger, she climbed down the tree and landed with a soft thud next to her pack. She brushed the bark and twigs from her leather jerkin and breeches.

The Drow reached into her pack, searching for the day's breakfast. However, all she pulled out was the corner of a piece of cheese. "Shit," she cursed. She had lost her bow and arrows when crossing a flooded river a month ago. Since then, she had to rely on foraging plants and selling what she could to purchase dried meat and cheeses. She could find no one to make her a new bow, fletchers being rare outside of ranger camps and larger towns. With a sigh of resignation, she decided she would have to sell the fine furs Oran had given her and some of her camp supplies to buy a new bow and arrows.

She slipped the small piece of cheese into her mouth and slung her pack over her shoulder. With one last glance at her camp, she began walking down  the road to the Gate.

________

"Fresh fish! Get your fresh fish, here!"

"Carm's Garms! We have everything for--your--arms…"

"Melons, apples, and carrots!"

Noise. Noise and people everywhere. Oran didn't warn me about this, thought the Drow.

As soon as she stepped foot into Wyrm's Crossing, she was bombarded by shouting, barking, music, and laughing. She was overwhelmed by the delicious scents of roasting meat, and the nauseating aroma of horse dung and fish guts. She was jostled around. At one point, she felt a small hand enter one of her pockets. She quickly unsheathed her dagger and lashed out with her off hand and grabbed the thief's wrist. She spun around, dagger in the air to find a small Tiefling child. "I'm sorry, m-m-mistress. I didn't know you was a Drow." Her heart sunk and she let the child go. The child's eyes filled with relief and he ran off down an alley way.

The Drow continued down the narrow street. Amidst all of the noise, a soft, clear voice from above caught her attention. "Oi, black haired beauty! You lookin' for some comfort?" She turned her red gaze up towards the source and saw a very busty dwarf in a very tight dress leaning out of a window. The Drow was surprised--the dwarf was addressing her! The dwarf was trying to pose in a way that accentuated her heaving bosom when she noticed the black haired beauty was a Drow.  "Ooh, my, my. Look at this, Sorn. She a relative of yours?"

A tall, onyx skinned Drow appeared behind the dwarf and he leaned slightly out the window to peer down at her. He wore a revealing vest which showed every sculpted muscle on his torso. His dark gaze traveled up and down the Drow's frame, making her blush. He took in the patched leathers and frayed cuffs. "Hmm, afraid not dear Ariadne. A Drow from my household wouldn't be caught dead in an outfit like that."

The dwarf guffawed and smacked Sorn playfully on his abdomen, while Sorn looked down with disdain at her. The Drow felt heat rush to her cheeks and she quickly ducked her head and continued on towards the bridge to Wyrm's Rock. She got in line behind the many other travelers and citizens waiting to enter the city for the day. At this point, she felt the pressure behind her eye lids begin to grow. No, not now! She thought. She started the breathing exercises Oran taught her to do.

In. The Drow took a step closer as a family of dwarves were waved through by the guards.

Out. A young Tiefling was asking to sell his carvings in the Lower City. The guards refused and told him to turn around.

In. Next, a nobleman in the finest clothing she had ever seen was waved through without a second glance by the guards.

Out. It was her turn. She stood before the four guards, each with a fist wreathed in flame stitched onto their chests.

"Bloody hell, Haron! Look what we've got here!" shouted the guard directly in front of her. One of the guards to her right, a tall woman with a nasty scar stretched across her face stepped closer to gaze at her.

"A Drow? What is your business here, Drow?" asked the guard named Haron.

The Drow opened her mouth to speak, but she could feel the familiar, constricting grip of panic on her vocal chords. The breathing exercise had not worked.

"Are you dumb, Drow? What. Is. Your. Business?" said the guard in front of her.

The Drow opened her mouth again, yet no words came out. She felt hot tears start to fall from her eyes and her breath quickened. Small sobs were the only sound to escape her throat.

"Gods, she's wasting our time. Just arrest her. Lord Gortash might want to interrogate her," said Haron.

Just as the first guard stepped forward to restrain the Drow, a loud crackle and bright lights erupted into the air behind her. All the guards on the bridge looked up in alarm.

"Walton, Syrros, with me!" yelled Haron and the guard in front of her and another down the line followed Haron to investigate the bursting colors erupting from a stall. The Drow was frozen, still sobbing and unable to speak. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. She turned to see a figure in a hooded, richly decorated purple cloak. The hood shrouded much of his face. All she could see was a neatly groomed, brown beard with flecks of silver peeking through.

"Come, I can get you into the city," he whispered. The Drow had no reason to trust this mysterious stranger. However, his calm voice and gentle touch seemed to be the balm she needed to get her legs back. She started to follow the stranger. His hand was still gently gripping her shoulder. He guided her into Wyrm's Rock. The Drow looked up as the imposing prison swallowed her and the stranger whole. She saw faces peeking out from murder holes.

"Eyes forward, my lady," whispered the stranger. She turned her tear stained gaze back to the opposite end of the bridge they needed to cross. She saw fewer guards on this span of the bridge, but many more people. The city ahead seemed to stretch on forever. It made her knees weak. She stumbled a bit. The stranger quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and steadied her. She got her legs back under her and continued on  towards the second bridge.

 The hollow thud of her boots and the stranger's echoed with each step as they crossed. They walked past the guards. She was given a second glance by one of the guards, but he said nothing and let them pass. She felt her boots step on the stone of the first street into Baldur's Gate. Relief started to wriggle its way into her bones. The stranger removed his arm from around her waist and marched off towards a building with a red door. Above the door was a wooden sign with a red fish painted on it.

"You look like you could use a drink. Would you join me?" asked the stranger as he held the red door open for her.

The Drow felt the constricting force on her throat start to ebb, but she still had no voice. Oran warned her about thieves and bandits trying to take advantage of her. But, this stranger seemed to be helping her. And he was offering her a drink. She heard her stomach rumble. It was clearly not satisfied with the small piece of cheese she had for breakfast. She hoped the stranger hadn't heard that.

She nodded and stepped past the stranger, getting a whiff of his cologne and perhaps--the smell of parchment? It was quite pleasant.

The pub was very small. Only 5 tables and a small bar occupied the dining room. They were the only patrons there during this time of day. The Drow picked a table situated next to large, open doors that led out onto a small terrace and looked down upon the buildings below. Potted flowers decorated the railing. The small presence of nature seemed to help calm her even more. She could feel the pressure behind her eyes going away.

The stranger approached the bar. He removed the hood of his cloak and the Drow saw his face for the first time. He was a handsome man. He had soft, flowing brown hair that was streaked with silver to match the beard she had previously seen. He had even softer brown eyes framed by laugh lines. "Barkeep, please give me a cup of strong coffee, and my guest will have…uh…" he looked awkwardly at the Drow, realizing he hadn't asked what she would like. "What would you like, my lady?"

The Drow started to feel that familiar panic start to ease its way back into her throat and behind her eyes. She didn't know what she wanted. She never went to this pub before. Tears started to well in her eyes again.

The stranger noticed this. "How about I order something for you? Would that be agreeable?" he asked.

The Drow smiled at him and nodded vigorously, relieved. The stranger smiled back at her and turned his attention back to the barkeep. "Coffee for two, and perhaps a platter of your sausage and fruit." The barkeep nodded and went through a swinging door to the kitchen to prepare the food. The stranger took the seat opposite the Drow. He gingerly draped his fine cloak on the back of the chair. "I apologize for not introducing myself on the bridge. Time was of the essence and my distraction could only last for so long."

The Drow's eyes widened in understanding. He caused the colorful fireworks.

"Don't worry," said the stranger, mistaking her wide-eyed gaze for concern. "It was a simple color spray spell. Very flashy, but completely harmless."

The Drow gave a small smile. The stranger returned it. "I am Gale of Waterdeep. I'm a professor at Blackstaff Academy."

The Drow gave a look of confusion. "Oh," said Gale of Waterdeep, "you--haven't heard of Blackstaff?"

She shook her head. She expected a look of disappointment. Instead, Gale's brown eyes lit up in excitement. "Blackstaff is a very prestigious school of wizardry. I have been teaching there since I graduated. However, I haven't taught in…quite a while," he said. She saw the excitement ebb a little after his last statement. She was curious as to why he wasn't teaching anymore but, she thought it might be rude to ask.

She suddenly asked, "Why did you help me?" Gale jumped a little at hearing her voice for the first time. The warm smile returned to his face.

"I'm glad to hear your voice return to you. In truth, I saw how those Flaming Fists were treating you. I refuse to judge a book by its cover, as it were."

Warmth spread through the Drow's chest. "I am called Wren--of Greencliffs."

Gale smiled wider and bowed his head in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you, my lady. Tell me, what brings you to Baldur's Gate all the way from Greencliffs?"

Wren wanted to tell him everything, but talking was still difficult. So she just said, "Travelling."

"Ah! How exciting! I am a traveler as well. I am here on personal business. You see, I need to make an important purchase at Sorcerer's Sundries…" Gale paused when he saw a look of confusion on Wren's face. "Oh, that is a very popular shop here in the city. The best place for wizards and all manner of magic users to purchase magical items, potion ingredients and what not. I was hoping to peruse their collection of magical items to take back to my home in Waterdeep, but I'm afraid navigating the city as a lone wizard is a recipe for disaster. I already had three pickpockets try to knick my coin and have their fingers broken thanks to the wards I placed on my coin purse. I also had some pretty rough fellows try to mug me in an alley two days ago and I barely escaped intact. I may be a skilled wizard, but when it comes to navigating a city of ruffians and bandits, I'm quite vulnerable."

Wren noticed his robes looked a little frayed in spots as if he had fallen recently. "Show you a trick?" she asked. Gale's eyebrows arched inquisitively. Wren held her calloused, blue right hand out to the wizard. He took the hint and placed his right hand into her palm. His hand was much softer than hers, dedicated to a life of scholarly pursuits. She noticed smudges of ink along the finger tips and under his nails. Wren looked across the table at Gale and noticed he was staring at her intently, hanging on her every word. That's when she swiftly pulled her dagger and sheath from her boot and put the hilt in his hand. "Use a knife," she smiled.

"Ha!" laughed Gale. "That would do the job, wouldn't it? Well, I will have to purchase one."

"Keep it," said Wren. She removed her hand from under Gale's and gently curled his fingers around the hilt. "Thank you," she muttered.

Gale's eyes lit up. "I shall treasure it, always. Thank you, Wren." He placed the sheathed dagger in the folds of his robe.

She opened her mouth to ask if he would like company on his trek to this wizard shop when she heard something that made her stop cold: screams.

Gale turned his head in the direction of the front door. "Gods, what is--"

At that moment an explosion shattered the front wall of the pub and knocked Gale and Wren out of their chairs through the terrace doors towards the jagged stone street two stories below. Wren felt her head hit the railing of the terrace, then all was darkness.

[keldae]

Tagged by the incomparable @dingoat -- thank you! <3

3 ships

Right now, to nobody's surprise, Gale/Devi is eating my soul. On paper, they shouldn't work -- he's an educated, wealthy, powerful mage (who makes very poor life choices), and she's a much-younger-than-him thief who grew up as an urchin on the streets of Baldur's Gate, whose only "acceptable" skill is playing a violin (apparently pickpocketing and stabbing people aren't considered widely acceptable or desirable skills?). But in all the ways that really count, they are compatible -- they're protective of each other and their friends, and Devi's street-smarts balance out Gale's book/arcane knowledge, and her feisty-ness is another counter to his more balanced way of dealing with things (read: he's 90% of her impulse control). I suppose opposites DO attract! ;)

Theron/Xaja has lived in my brain ever since Shadow of Revan dropped, in canon-verse and in at least two AU's. Theron definitely brought out a side of Xaja that isn't necessarily a proper Jedi side to show, but it's definitely her -- she's also feisty, and protective, and she's got a snarky streak to her that sings to Theron's soul. And she loves Theron's devotion to the cause, and his intelligence, and his wit.

(also, looking at Xaja and Devi... apparently I've got a TYPE when it comes to my main characters in RPGs. You should take a look at my canon Warden from DAO sometime, Lynaen... who ALSO is a redheaded dual-wielding rogue with a healthy dose of snark. At least she was raised a Cousland and didn't spend time learning how to pickpocket on the streets like the other two? #roguelifeFTW)

And I gotta talk about Reanden/Mairen too. They started on a bit of a whim when @andveryginger and I decided to throw them together for a couple of one-off kiss prompts, annnnnd now they run a good chunk of our respective brains (Reanden likes to hang out in Ginger's head a lot). Mai (Ginger's) loves Reanden's intelligence, and his dedication to his kids and the Republic, and the compassionate, caring streak he has under his sociopathic facade. And he's got a type for snarky redheaded Corellian Jedi ladies -- the fact that Mai loves his kids like they're her own, and doesn't think less of him for his rare moments of vulnerability, means the galaxy to him.

First Ship

Oh man -- my very first OTP was Faramir/Eowyn from LOTR, ever since I first read the books at the ripe old age of 12 years old, and it's STILL one of my favourite ships. I think, even 20 years ago, I was seeing myself in Eowyn (as a female character, as one who wanted to fight and seek out renown, as one who, as I would discover later on in my own life, had a bucketload of mental health problems to the tune of depression), and wanted my own Faramir (gentle, noble, compassionate, intelligent). So a bit of projection there? ;) The first ship I wrote... well, I'd started a girl-falls-into-Middle-earth fic in high school, and the endgame goal was my OC with Legolas, but looking back on it now, I think my OC may have had more chemistry with Boromir. Either way, that fic has been abandoned for like 15 years -- I ain't bringing it back out to resurrect it. ;)

Last Song

According to Spotify, "Master Of Illusion" by Battle Beast! If/when I come up with a Gale playlist, that song's going on it.

Currently Reading

"Tress of the Emerald Sea" by Brandon Sanderson. I'm not too far into it, but so far I'm enjoying it! (Also, I LOVE Sanderson's writing style, and the little bits of snark he peppers in there. Current favourite line: "... he had a jaw so straight that it made other men question if they were.")

Last Film

In theatres -- "Argylle", which I enjoyed! I wouldn't class it as a "favourite" movie, but it was fun! At home (read: at Chez Boyfriend), it was "RED" -- that's one of my favourites. Bruce Willis and Karl Urban snarking at each other... =D (Karl is also my faceclaim for Reanden, and that movie was a big inspiration!)

Currently Craving

Nothing at the moment! I have my coffee and I have a big-ass Costco-sized muffin that I'm working on before I go for my tattoo appointment. (Also, Part 1 of my tax return came in last week... I could get ALL the groceries, thank God! Part 2 is dropping on Thursday, for all the backpay after the CRA applied the ADHD disability credit to my previous years... I legit cried when I saw that number. I can afford to get my car fixed, AND get this new tattoo, AND a haircut, AND maybe, I don't know, throw something into a retirement fund!)

Tagging, if you wish: @greyias @storyknitter @nayci @elveny @abysskeeper @auroraesmeraldarose

[ask-indigoskies]

Lovebug and Emerald Gale: When you were foals, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Love bug: “I wanted to be an author when I was young”

Gale: “I really really wanted to be a librarian! Being surrounded by books all day sounded like the best job ever?!”

[dndfantasygirl]

Unbroken Chains (Chapter 1: The Ring of Daybreak's Embrace)

Rating: Mature Word count: 1.2k Pairing: Spawn Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo, self-deprecation

Summary: After defeating the Netherbrain, Astarion, Delphie, and Arabella set out on a trek to find the Ring of Daybreak's Embrace, a magical item that will allow the vampire spawn to walk in the sun once again. However, Delphie's past catches up with her as two hags from the Hourglass Coven track her down, endangering the lives of those she cares for the most.

*Link to AO3 Post

*Link to Previous Chapter

It's been almost two weeks since they defeated the Netherbrain. Since they were freed from the parasite. Since he was bound to the shadows once again.

But Delphie made him a promise. She would help him find a way to walk in the sun again. If there's no cure, at least there's that.

Gale, although still in his pursuit of the Crown of Karsus, offered to help them out. He found the artifact and its location. Before they left, he gave them a scroll of sending just in case they had any questions along the way.

It was a kind gesture from the wizard, Astarion will give him that much.

They traverse the expansive lands of Elturgard under the veil of night, their path leading them toward the enchanting depths of the Misty Forest. Just him, Delphie...and the little imp. While he had yearned for some intimate moments alone with his beloved, Arabella's presence disrupts his plans, courtesy of a promise she made to the eager novice.

Amidst the journey, the topic of magic resurfaces in Astarion's mind, spurred by the golden scales interwoven with the scars on his back. Delphie broached the subject upon their return to Last Light, attributing his revival to a peculiar exchange of powers. Alden's act of bringing him back bestowed upon him the same mystical abilities that Delphie possesses.

Yet, magic feels foreign to the vampire spawn, a realm where he struggles to find his footing. His proficiency lies in the art of blades and archery, the tangible weapons of his trade. While he remains willing to assist Delphie when needed, the notion of wielding magic as his primary means of combat feels alien to him, a territory he's uncertain he can navigate with confidence.

A flicker of frustration dances across Astarion's features as he contemplates the presence of Arabella on their journey. He can't shake the notion that if it weren't for the little imp's company, Delphie would devote all her attention to him and his potential for mastering sorcery. Yet, for the past ten days, Arabella has monopolized the wood elf's attention, leaving the vampire spawn to simmer in the shadows as always.

Despite the reassuring grip of Delphie's hand in his, Astarion's gaze drifts towards Arabella, his expression clouded with resentment. There she stands, a picture of innocence and wonder, her eyes wide with curiosity at the world unfolding before her. Yet, to Astarion, her naivety is a source of irritation.

He can't help but scoff inwardly at Arabella's awe-filled demeanor, dismissing her fascination with the landscape around them as trivial.

"Are you nervous?"

The wood elf's voice pierces through the veil of Astarion's thoughts, drawing his attention back to the present moment. Her melodic tones serve as a welcome distraction, prompting him to cast aside his brooding demeanor.

He meets her gaze, finding solace in the warmth that emanates from her emerald eyes. "Not necessarily," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "But I won't lie and say I won't be disappointed if we can't find it."

Astarion's mind drifts to Gale's words, echoing in his memory with vivid clarity.

'The Ring of Daybreak's Embrace is said to be hidden within the depths of a forgotten crypt, buried beneath the roots of an ancient oak tree deep in the heart of a mist-shrouded forest. Legends speak of a hidden chamber guarded by spectral sentinels, where the ring rests atop an ancient pedestal, awaiting a worthy hand to claim its power.'

A worthy hand? Is his hand worthy enough?

Despite his undeniable progress towards redemption, a lingering sense of guilt continues to plague the vampires spawn. Memories of his past misdeeds weigh heavily on his conscience, casting a dark shadow over his newfound sense of purpose. He grapples with the knowledge that, regardless of the circumstances that led him down a path of darkness, he cannot fully absolve himself of the sins he committed.

In the past, Astarion found solace in his ability to detach himself from the consequences of his actions, numbing his emotions in order to survive. But with Cazador's demise and Delphie's unwavering presence, he can no longer shield himself from the overwhelming tide of emotions that threaten to consume him.

With the wood elf by his side, Astarion finds himself experiencing a depth of emotion he never thought possible. The warmth of her love serves as a beacon of light in the darkness, illuminating the path towards redemption. Yet, it also forces him to confront the full extent of his past transgressions, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, the vampire spawn fails to notice the passage of time until Delphie's gentle touch breaks through the fog of his introspection. "Dretri, what's on your mind?" Her concern is palpable, reflected in the furrow of her brow and the tender caress of her hand against his cheek.

Sensing the need for privacy, Arabella gracefully withdraws, busying herself with the vibrant tapestry of flora that surrounds them.

The rustle of footsteps fade into the distance, leaving the elves ensconced in a cocoon of solitude. Drawing a deep breath to steady his nerves, Astarion tentatively broaches the topic that has been gnawing at his mind.

"Gale mentioned that the ring awaits a worthy hand to claim its power, didn't he?" His voice trembles slightly.

Delphie nods, her curiosity mingling with concern as she reaches out to intertwine her fingers with his own, offering a tether to reality amidst the whirlwind of doubts that threaten to engulf him.

"What if..." Astarion's voice trails off, his words faltering as he grapples with the unsettling notion that has taken root in his mind. "What if I'm not worthy enough?"

A heavy silence hangs between them. The vampire spawn's hand instinctively rises to scratch at his head, a nervous tic betraying the turmoil that churns within him.

In response to his vulnerability, Delphie offers a reassuring squeeze. "You saved an entire city from being turned into mind flayers," she reminds him.

"I'll admit, darling, my reasons weren't exactly as altruistic as yours," Astarion confesses.

"You could've run, but you didn't," the wood elf observes, her voice soft and reassuring. "You stayed and you fought. I think that's pretty worthy, my love."

Her words resonate within Astarion's heart. As she rises on the tips of her toes to press a tender kiss to his lips, he finds himself momentarily lost in the warmth of her embrace.

Despite the fleeting comfort her words provide, Astarion's mind remains clouded by uncertainty. The echoes of his past misdeeds continue to haunt him, casting doubt upon the notion of his own worthiness. Yet, in the quiet intimacy of this moment, he allows himself to bask in the love and acceptance that Delphie offers so freely, if only for a fleeting moment.

"The sun's starting to rise."

As Arabella's voice breaks through the tranquility of the moment, the elves turn their attention towards the horizon, where the first tendrils of dawn begin to paint the sky with hues of rose and gold. The imminent arrival of daylight signals the end of their nocturnal journey, prompting Astarion to draw Delphie closer to him in a tender embrace.

Feeling the warmth of his cold touch, the wood elf leans into him, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she revels in the comfort of his arms. Astarion presses a gentle kiss to her temple. "Time for bed, my sweet."

[mahvaladara]

Neer - BG3 Character Dev Questions

@cassieuncaged Baldur's Gate 3 Character Development Questions

For Neer (Neer is an OC from the Lore of Iasanera story). Applying the answers to the world of BG3

1: Where in the Faerûn is your Tav from?

He'd be a Reithwin survivor (as the Shaddowlands are simmilar to the Cursed Valley). A former noble and city ranger. He'd be a Selunite (though in the world he's from he's a worshiper of Nix, who's Iasanera's equivalent of Shar, having in count the goddess's behaviours and personalities, Selune is more like Nix than Nix like Shar).

2: What is your character's alignment?

Neutral good. Though he's usually quite lawful, he's not against bending the rules to fit his agenda and his morality.

3: Race and subclass?

Elf, high elf. Fey ancestry.

Druid - Circle of Stars multiclassing with Gloom Stalker.

4: If your Tav was a companion, where would they be found?

Last Light Inn or somewhere in the Shadowlands, scouting the abandoned battlefied on in one of the Reithwin building roofs with a moon lantern trying to map the corruption.

5: Dark Urge or no?

No. Noble background.

6: What companion are you platonically close with?

Gale. They both share a love for knowledge and an ambition for self improvement. They share a lot of knowledge with one another and Neer was actually the first to suggest to Gale that perhaps, he's just an educated sorcerer, the same way Neer is a wealthy druid.

Wyll. They have a simmilar background and origin. They do bond over baldurian history and feats of heroism. They have never met before, the Shadow Curse fell before Wyll and Duke Ravengard's time.

Shadowheart. They share some religious understanding and Neer understands her devotion and her religious crisys. Deep inside, he wonders if she's truly a Sharran. He respects her religion. But before she turns to Selune, he pokes fun at her.

He's indiferent to Lae'Zel. He doesn't get in her way, she doesn't get in his.

He loves drinking and laughing with Karlach and sees her as a friend.

Jaheira is his sister of arms, his mentor and both adores her sense of humor and has a large degree of admiration and respect for her.

But of all, he's more platonically close to Gale and Jaheira.

7: Romantically close with?

Halsin and/or Shadowheart/Astarion.

8: Who are they suspicious of?

Lae'Zel, Astarion, and Minthara. The Emperor.

9: Is your Tav from Baldur's Gate? Why are they travelling there?

No. He had been to Baldur's Gate, before the Shadow curse befell Reithwin. He was a member of a noble house and would often deal in diplomacy and politics, so he was often to Baldur's Gate dealing with a myriad of political businesses. Currently he was heading to Baldur's Gate in hopes of finding a solution for the Shadowcurse plaguing his home. Jaheira had sent him towards the Emerald Grove.

10: Are they proficient in playing any instruments?

Piano and violin, as it is expected for a noble bred elf such as himself.

11: Weapon of choice?

Bow and arrow and Glayve.

12: What is their orientation?

Bissexual.

13: What are their thoughts on killing? Is it a necessary evil or do they enjoy it?

Necessary evil. They don't particularly enjoy killing, but they are an ambush ranger and are not against shooting someone down to achieve his agenda.

14: What hobbies does your Tav have?

Neer is into reading, playing music and gardening. And, though he'd never admit it or be caught doing it, Neer enjoys embroidery.

15: What NPC's do they like? Which one's do they dislike?

He likes Halsin, Zevlor, Duke Ravengard, Kith'rak Voss and Withers. Has a soft spot for Mol, and the tiefling kids. Adores Arabella but is also senses something brewing but has chosen to trust Withers. Enjoys Alfira's company. He also adores dame Aelyn. Has a healthy degree of respect for Nine-Fingers, Raphael and Auntie Ethel. He despises the Emperor, Mizora, Gortash and fuckiiing Oriiin.

16: Do they have a favorite creature in the Faerûn?

Dire Wolves, dragons and tressyn. Adding owlbears to the bunch.

17: Do they enjoy life as an adventurer?

He does now. He'd never consider it when he was a noble man playing the politics game. But now he cannot see himself return to the posh, dull and pompous life of high-elven nobility.

18: What would your Tav be doing if they weren't kidnapped on the Nautiloid?

Probably trying to save Halsin from the Goblin camp anyway, as Jaheira would have pointed him towards the Emerald Grove and the Emerald Grove towards Halsin.

19: How do you think they'll meet they're end?

They had expected to be killed by the Shadow Curse or the abominations that dwell within it.

20: Would they destroy the elder brain or control it?

Destroy.

21: What is your Tav's favorite spell?

Telekinesis. Just yeet a bitch of a roof.

22: What languages is your character fluent in?

Common, elvish, druidic and celestial.

23: What do they do after the absolute crisis?

He returns to Reithwin with Halsin to run the commune.

24: Does your character believe in the afterlife?

Yes. He very much does. This was how the Emperor was so easy to manipulate him with the image of his late wife.

25: What arcana major best represents your Tav?

The Chariot Upright on his qualities, the Emperor Reversed on his flaws.

26: What animal best represents your Tav?

The Wolf - loyalty, strong family ties, good communication, education, understanding, and intelligence.

27: What was their life like before the events of BG3?

Neer, before the Shadow Curse was a noble man of a noble elven house, married and with a child. He was a very wealthy man with a high social standing and some political power in Reithwin. He worshiped Selune, and after the worship of the Moon Maiden was abolished he conformed (but worshipped Selune in secret) to maintain his social status and wealth and comfort of his family. After the Shadow Curse he became a lone-wolf ranger, working with the Harpers to find a solution to the curse. He started learning druidic magic under the guidance of Jaheira and the harpers.

28: Is your character the de facto leader of the party? Or do they consider someone else to be the leader?

He's the de facto leader. Neer was a noble and former politician. If he wasn't born with leadership skills, his parents made sure he learnt and acquired them from an early age. When Jaheira joins the party he suggests she takes the lead but she trusts his judgement. He's killed Ketheric and proved more than his worth.

29: Does your Tav want to utilize the tadpole powers or not?

Absolutely not. And now that he figured out who the Dream Visitor was? Absolutely not.

30: What's your favorite thing about your Tav?

Other than his overall looks? This guy is very confident and secure of himself and walks around with the smuggest of smiles ever. He has a "takes no shit" atitude. So yes, he told Lae'Zel her upside down bat nose was not any better than his dangling piece of flesh. He sometimes comes off as conceited, but he doesn't do it on purpose, just an overall result of his being of noble and wealthy background and having had the privilege to study and invest on his own personal growth.

[thegirlfromstationsquare]

1,2,16,25

For the OC ask game

Noelani because i haven't talked about her in a while

I like to imagine she and sonic tie the knot with their friends and family and a few other guests. It be a big party on the beach. Before that tho it's just with sonic and lani reciting their vows in private. They don't even exchange rings because they know they don't need physical objects to show how much they love each other. She didn't even want a ceremony but decided to do one anyways to not come off as a killjoy.

They'd adopt a couple of kids and name them Gale (as in gale force), Sirrocco (a type of Mediterranean wind) and Kahlani ("sea and sky" in Hawaiian)

Lani goes to school in the Movie verse in fact one of her arcs is learning to overcome her shyness to connect with other students. It's more vague in the games where she sometimes goes to school but otherwise teaches herself.

The reason I chose Noelani was to fit the stage she's based on (Emerald Coast), while also fairly common enough to showing that she's a normal girl. Also Noelani means "mists of heaven" tying into her hydrokinetic abilities and kind, sort of wispy personality. Her planned name Cameron wasn't interesting enough for Sonic aesthetic.

[southsidewrites]

The Capitol's Jewel

Born in the shadow of the Capitol, Emerald Bellona's life has never been her own. She was only six years old when her mother, beloved District One victor Amethyst Alexander, overdosed on morphling. "An accident," they called it, an inexplicable tragedy. But even then, Emerald knew the truth--her mother just couldn't take it anymore, couldn't bear the weight of being one of the Capitol's darlings.

Ten years later, the arena calls. It's a moment she's always known was coming. As the child of a victor that dared to take her own life, it was never a question of if Emerald would go into the Games, only a matter of when. And after a lifetime of training, Emerald thought she'd be ready.

But no one is ever truly ready for the Hunger Games, especially when the arena is only be beginning. As the final canons sound, she's faced with a chilling truth--the games never really end.

Emerald's life may never have belonged to her, but if she wants to escape her mother's fate, she's going to have to fight like hell to get it back. Luckily, hope can be found in the unlikeliest of places, like a steely-eyed boy from District Twelve

A Gale x OC Hunger Games Fic Coming to AO3 November 1st

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (5) - A BG3 G/t fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Summary: Ria begins her training with Lae'zel and quickly learns that gith combat is by no means an easy feat, but she won't give up that easily. Especially when she wants to prove to a certain vampire spawn that she won't tolerate his antics.

Pairing: Astarion x borrower!oc (Tav) (slow-burn, Astarion is a complete ass but eventually comes round in future chapters)

Warnings: V*re mention, gore, mouthplay, fearplay, blood, swearing/course language, blood drinking, Astarion is a real asshole to little people/borrowers and doesn’t see them as people so be prepared for him being awful. Word count: 3.4k

I thought I might add that "pa'vrylk" means 'stop' and "sa'varsh" means 'teacher' in gith, as Lae'zel uses these words in this chapter. Enjoy! And please feel free to leave a comment and reblog if you liked it. :) The next few days passed in a blink of an eye. Ria still couldn’t believe that she had agreed to travel with a group of giants, but ultimately it was her best chance of survival until she found a proper home…if she found one, that is. Not only that, but she was determined to not let Astarion get to her. She had revelled in watching Astarion’s shocked expression when she had agreed to join the party and a part of her wanted to prove that she wasn’t just some measly snack to him. Learning how to fight with Lae’zel was going to help her achieve that. The githyanki had kept true to her word and had promised to teach her how to fight, although having a githyanki teach a borrower certainly came with some challenges due to the size differences. For one, Ria had no weapon to call her own as all the weapons in the camp were catered for people of a much taller stature than herself. It wasn’t until Karlach suggested Dammon, a tiefling blacksmith from Emerald Grove, could make a borrower-sized dagger for her to use did it change things. Ria wasn’t sure if a giant could even forge such a tiny weapon to begin with, but Dammon proved that he had immense skill and an eye for detail when he made her a tiny dagger that was identical to its giant counterpart in every way. To say that she was impressed was an understatement – she had showered Dammon in gratitude and the tiefling shrugged it off as if it was no big deal. Now, with her newly acquired dagger, she could properly start her training with Lae’zel.

In the heat of the afternoon, Ria wiped the collective beads of sweat that were beginning to form on her forehead as she readied her blade at a loose potato on the dusty ground. Finding practice dummies when she was so small had proven to be rather interesting – Gale had agreed that she could use a potato from their rations to practice providing it was still edible after her training session with Lae’zel. She had been training for just over an hour now with the gith and her body was quickly becoming bruised and sore. Gripping firmly on the handle of the blade, she charged forward and thrust the dagger into the vegetable with everything that she had. The blade pierced through the skin of the potato like a knife through butter and she grinned with triumph.

Lae’zel, who was standing not far from where Ria was, had her arms folded over her chest as she stared down at the tiny borrower on the dusty ground.

“Not bad for a little istik,” Lae’zel commented, a small smile tugged ever so slightly on her lips. “Your form needs improving, but it isn’t a bad start.”

Ria couldn’t help but to smile at the githyanki woman towering above her. Normally, any giant looming over her ominously would strike fear in her chest, but over the past few days she had grown somewhat used to Lae’zel’s blunt and rather harsh demeanour. The fact that the githyanki was praising her for her attempt certainly meant a lot as she didn’t dish out compliments lightly.  

“Again.” Lae’zel waved her hand to the side, her yellow gaze firmly on Ria.

Nodding, Ria began to pull on the handle of her tiny dagger, but the weapon barely budged. Frowning, she pulled harder, but the blade refused to release itself from the root vegetable.

“J-Just give me one moment.” Ria exhaled deeply, her body quickly becoming drenched in sweat as she struggled to remove the dagger.

“Pa'vrylk! Slow down, little istik. You will hurt yourself.” Lae’zel crouched down so that she was a bit more eye-level with the borrower, or at least as close as she could be.

“I-I can’t remove it.” Heat burned across her face as she grunted in frustration. This wasn’t exactly how she had imagined her first training lesson to carry out. She frantically glanced around the camp, hoping that Astarion wasn’t secretly watching her fail miserably. Sure enough, much to her dismay, the vampire spawn was standing off to the side watching her with great interest. A shit-eating grin spread across his sharp features as if he was a cat who had stolen the cream.

Fuck off, massive prick!

Ria’s entire body tensed up as she glared a burning look at Astarion. If he wasn’t careful, she was going to test her dagger out on him next.

“Take a break for a moment,” Lae’zel instructed, her voice rumbling from above. “Collect yourself and then try again.”

Puffing rather angrily in defeat, Ria wiped the sweat that was glistening on her forehead and steadied her breathing, pushing Astarion out of her thoughts. She glanced over at Lae’zel, who was still crouching in front of her, the gith’s piercing gaze unwavering.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t very good,” she breathed, nervous that Lae’zel was going to be angry with her. She still wasn’t sure why the githyanki had agreed to train her given her small stature. Borrowers weren’t exactly known well for their fighting skills.

“No need to worry, little istik, you are still learning,” Lae’zel replied. “You have the fire of a true githyanki warrior in your heart. A good sa’varsh does not give up on their students so easily. You have much to learn.”

Ria ran her tongue over her chapped lips as she pondered Lae’zel’s words. She still wanted to know just exactly why Lae’zel had offered to train her in the first place, considering her sharp personality that radiated from her, it seemed very strange that Lae’zel would even consider the idea to begin with.

“Why did you really offer to train me?” she asked, craning her neck slightly to look the githyanki in the eyes.

A small grin crept along Lae’zel’s lips as she gazed down at the little borrower standing before her.

“Your defiance towards Astarion impressed me greatly,” Lae’zel answered, her voice genuine. “The fact that you, a small and puny borrower, stood up to someone so much larger than yourself is truly admirable. Not many things catch my eye like that, but your actions did. You have the spark of a true warrior in your heart, and I want to help you realise that.”

Ria was at a loss for words. Never would she ever expect a giant – least of all a githyanki – to say something like that to her. Clearly Lae’zel saw something in her that she wasn’t aware of herself. Either way, she was grateful to the gith for offering to train her. Fighting wasn’t exactly in a borrower’s nature – keeping to the shadows and staying out of sight was what she was used to, and all she had been expected to do her whole life. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head lightly, and cracked a smile at Lae’zel.

“Thank you. That’s…that’s probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She cleared her throat. “Well, apart from being called puny.”

Lae’zel returned her smile, although the gith’s was a lot pointier than Ria’s. “The fact that you are small makes your actions even more admirable, istik.”

The gith suddenly stood to her full height once more, now casting a long shadow over Ria’s tiny frame.

“Watch closely. I will show you what years of gith training can do.”

Lae’zel drew her own longsword, the rays of the afternoon sun glinting off the gleaming metal as she unsheathed the weapon. A training dummy stood not far away from where Lae’zel was standing, and the gith inhaled a deep breath, gripping tightly onto the leather handle. In what could’ve only been a matter of seconds, Lae’zel rushed towards the training dummy, completely eating up the ground beneath her feet. Small earthquakes rattled the ground as Lae’zel charged forwards and Ria had to steady herself to not lose her balance from the tremors. As if it were nothing, Lae’zel swung the sword effortlessly at the training dummy, slicing its head clean off. The training dummy’s head rolled onto the ground until it stopped right in front of where Ria was standing.

Ria’s eyes bugged wide and she gulped nervously at witnessing Lae’zel’s immense power. She wasn’t sure what Lae’zel was expecting her to do, but there was no way she could ever hope to do anything like that.

“I had spilled my cousin’s blood at a much younger age than you, little istik.” Lae’zel sheathed her sword, her yellow gaze piercingly sharp as she stared down at the borrower. “Keep on practicing. I will ensure that you will draw your first blood.”

“I-I appreciate the confidence you have in me,” Ria stammered, blinking the dust out of her eyes. “But, uh, I don’t see how I’ll ever hope to slice someone’s head clean off when I’m this size.”

Lae’zel nodded. “I don’t expect you to copy me. Use your stature to your advantage and hit your enemies where it hurts.” Large footsteps rattled the earth as Lae’zel approached Ria. The gith leaned down and picked up the training dummy’s head in her clawed hands.

“Imagine you are in the face of an enemy,” Lae’zel said, her eyes cold and calculating. “Your tiny dagger could easily blind someone if you thrust it into their eyes.” The sound of ripping fabric punctured through the air as Lae’zel jabbed her sword into the training dummy’s head, pieces of stuffed hay scattering onto the dusty ground below as the contents of the dummy’s head was emptied.

“O-oh.” Ria stared at the pieces of hay that now littered the ground around her and then she glanced at the tiny dagger that was still stuck in the potato. Perhaps Lae’zel was right – if she was ever in a scenario where she was in the face of a giant, jabbing a dagger into their eyeballs would certainly be effective. Although, when would she ever be in that kind of scenario? It seemed highly unlikely.

But then again, I never imagined I’d be travelling with a bunch of parasite infected giants, so…

Steeling herself, Ria inhaled a deep breath before gripping the handle of her dagger once more. She began to pull, her breathing quickened as she struggled to loosen the blade. In the back of her mind, she was aware that Astarion was still watching her, and that only fuelled her even more to release the dagger.

No way am I letting him watch me fail!

With an almighty tug, the blade finally came free from its potato prison. Ria held up her dagger in triumph, a wide smile painted across her face as she gazed up at Lae’zel.

“Hm. That will do for now, little istik.” Lae’zel nodded firmly. “We’ll train again tomorrow.”

Ria swiped the sweat off her brow as Lae’zel stalked away to the centre of the camp. Everyone was now gathered around the campfire with Gale once again showing off his culinary skills. A long sigh escaped past her lips as the past hour of training with the gith suddenly caught up to her. Her entire body ached and she was certain there would be many new bruises blossoming on her pale skin very soon.

Gods…what will tomorrow’s training be like?

She grimaced at the mere thought of more relentless gith training. Why had she agreed to Lae’zel’s offer again?

At least I might be able to defend myself better once this is over. And shove a blade in Astarion’s sorry ass.

Large tremors soon rattled her out of her thoughts and she snapped her neck upwards in panic to see what was causing the small earthquakes. Or, rather, who was causing them. Her stomach dropped as she watched Astarion waltz towards her with a punch-worthy grin smeared across his angelic face.

Wait- angelic? What in the hells am I thinking?

Giant leather boots stomped ever closer to her trembling, tiny frame, shaking her out of her clouded thoughts. Instinctively her grip on her dagger tightened as her gaze followed Astarion with caution. The dust settled around Astarion’s large boots, now only mere inches from where Ria stood. Her mouth suddenly grew very dry as Astarion’s red eyes leered down at her like she was a mere scrap of food.

“What in the hells is your problem?” Ria snapped, despite her growing fear, she managed to hold her ground. “Don’t you have anything else better to do?”

“Not really,” Astarion mused, glancing at his perfect nails in the dwindling light of the afternoon. “Is it so wrong that I just want to simply engage in conversation with you?”

The tension in Ria’s body eased just ever so slightly. “Why…why would you want to do that?”

Astarion raised one eyebrow at her. “Well, I should say, I want to apologise for how I treated you from a few nights ago. You know, attempting to eat you and all.”

Ria narrowed her eyes and studied his facial expression intensely. There was the slightest detection of dishonesty on his face – he clearly didn’t mean this half-assed apology at all.

“And what brought on this sudden apology?” Ria questioned him, squeezing the handle of her dagger.

“Seeing as we’re going to be travelling together, I thought I should clear the air,” Astarion smirked. “It’s for the best, anyways. No hard feelings?”

The temptation to stab Astarion’s boot with her new dagger was becoming harder to resist.

“Apology not accepted,” she said through gritted teeth. “You’ll have to try a lot harder than that, pretty boy. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to find more pleasant company.”

Without so much as glancing at him, Ria walked around his feet towards the campfire where everyone else was gathering as the sky began to grow dark. She didn’t need to see his face to tell what his expression was – she could feel his blood-boiling smirk burn into her back as she stormed away from him.

“Oh, the borrower’s got bite! I like that.” Astarion’s voice rumbled from above.

Ria rolled her eyes and wondered what she had done to deserve any of this. ***

“No meat, please.”

Gale paused, a ladle in hand, and Ria quickly watched the wizard’s expression change from confusion to realisation as he scooped a small portion of vegetable stew for the borrower. Karlach, Shadowheart, and Wyll were sitting at the opposite end of the camp enjoying their dinner of roasted elk and stewed vegetables. Wyll seemed to be telling tales of his monster hunter days, Karlach listening to him the most eagerly. Lae’zel had already eaten her fill and had resumed her blade sharpening for the evening.

“Apologies. Vegetable stew for the borrower.”

With the utmost care, Gale poured a tiny amount of vegetable stew into the small thimble that Wyll had found when Ria had first arrived. The thimble had proven to be incredibly useful for Ria’s day-to-day life with the group of giants.

“Thank you.” Ria gripped the thimble firmly in both hands, sitting on her usual spot on the log around the flickering campfire. She was relieved that Gale had begun cooking the meat and the vegetables separate from one another after Wyll’s request at incorporating more vegetables into the evening dinners, which happened to be just to her liking.

“I’ve noticed you don’t eat any meat, Ria,” Gale commented, carving some roasted elk for himself. “Are you vegetarian by any chance?”

Ria took a tentative sip of vegetable stew, the liquid hot on her tongue and she breathed to cool it down. “Yes, always have been, always will be.”

Gale nodded respectfully. “Well, that is certainly an interesting revelation. And quite an admirable commitment. What pushed you towards a vegetarian diet?”

As she opened her mouth to answer Gale’s question, she immediately paused when she saw a pair of glowing red orbs staring intently at her in the dark of the night. Astarion was sitting not that far away from where she and Gale were sitting near the fire. He seemed to be watching and quite obviously listening in on their conversation.

“Ria?”

Shaking her head slightly, she returned her attention back to Gale.

“S-sorry, um, well, you see…” She cleared her throat. “I’ve had a lot of things try to eat me throughout my life, so eating other creatures like that just doesn’t sit right with me. Especially when I’ve been the one on the receiving end a lot of the time, the worst thing you can ever experience is someone wanting to eat you when you don’t want to die.”

She flashed a scathing look at Astarion as if to say ‘yes, I mean YOU’. The vampire raised one eyebrow at her, his lips curling into a mischievous grin which nearly made her want to toss her dagger at his face.

“That…certainly makes a lot of sense,” Gale said quietly, glancing at the steaming pile of roasted elk on his plate. “I couldn’t possibly imagine what that must be like.” His warm gaze flicked to her small form as his expression softened. “Are you alright with me eating meat around you? I’m not particularly fond of vegetables myself, but if it makes you feel more comfortable, I would be happy to oblige.”

Ria shook her head lightly. “No, no, it’s quite alright. I don’t expect you to change your eating preferences around me. I appreciate the thought, though.” Watching giants eat other sentient creatures did in fact make her hair stand on end, but she didn’t want to demand anything of her new companions, especially Gale who had been the kindest to her out of everyone there.

“I also have a question to ask you,” Gale said, changing the subject.

“Go ahead.”

“Why exactly did you join our group?” Gale asked. “I mean, it couldn’t have been an easy decision, after all, seeing as we’re all giants in your eyes. I’m not sure if I could do it myself if I were in your shoes.”  

Ria had a feeling someone was bound to ask this sooner or later. She finished chewing her mouthful of diced carrot before clearing her throat. “Well, despite how frightening large people are, it made sense for me to travel with some added protection while I find somewhere more permanent to live.”

Gale raised one eyebrow. “Even though said giants could turn into mind flayers at any given moment?”

Ria stiffened. She had completely forgotten about the illithid parasites plaguing everyone’s brains.

“Uh, well, that is a good point,” she replied somewhat shakily. “But if you were going to transform, wouldn’t one of you have transformed by now?”

Gale nodded, chewing some roasted meat thoughtfully. “That is a good point. I haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly why we haven’t completed ceremorphosis yet. All of us should be tentacle faced mind flayers by now.”

“Exactly,” Ria said. “Bearing in mind, if any of you start to sprout tentacles, I’m out of here.”

Gale suppressed a chuckle as he swallowed a mouthful of food. “That’s fair enough.”

Ria smiled warmly at the wizard and glanced quickly over at Astarion. The vampire was still watching her as if he expected there to be more to her answer. There was, in fact, more to her reasoning for travelling with the party of tadpole infected giants. And she wanted the vampire spawn to hear it from her own mouth.

“There’s more to my reasoning,” Ria continued.

“Oh?” Gale said, slightly surprised that she had more to say on the subject.

“I refuse to be seen as a mere piece of food,” she said, her gaze fixed on Astarion. “And I’m not going to let some vampire ponce look down at me like that.”

Ria’s comments stirred a reaction out of Astarion and the vampire’s red eyes glowered in her direction, eyeing her up thoughtfully.

Yes, that’s right, you can kindly go fuck yourself.

Gale quickly noticed the rising tension in the air and chuckled nervously. “Oh, well, I can certainly see why Astarion isn’t in your good books. Nor do I ever expect you to warm up to him, after what he did.” The wizard cleared his throat loudly. “Perhaps a certain vampire spawn should make it up to our borrower companion by doing something nice for her.”

An exasperated ‘hrmphf’ resonated loudly from where Astarion sat and Ria had to force herself not to chuckle at his discontent. Astarion’s footsteps sent small vibrations through the earth as he vanished into the cover of the night, seemingly done with listening in on Gale and Ria’s conversation.

“I do apologise about him,” Gale quickly said, a disappointed look visible on his face upon seeing Astarion’s reaction. “He’s not exactly the kind-hearted type.”

“I’ve gathered,” Ria said, not even bothering to hide the smug look on her face. “No need to apologise, though. I plan on making him regret ever thinking about eating me.”