#of course I stole shadowheart clothes

[mo-mo-ru-art]

She rolled 1

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Tav’s sex parade – Chapter 12: Mate me, mark me, make me yours (Halsin x Tav)

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, cunnilingus, biting, the feels)

Notes:

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics, Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.)

Chapter 8 is mentioned.

The snowflakes twirled through the cold air of the grey day, covering the world in its first fine layer of this year's snow like powdered sugar.

Tav was sitting in the living room, composing, while Gale wrote letters to scholars, Astarion rested in reverie, and Shadowheart was at Morena's place to help her heal some clients. Gale's mother appreciated an extra pair of hands at this time of the years when the townspeople ended up with runny noses and coughs. Scratch and Naïlo were sleeping in front of the fireplace, tightly entangled. The owlbear had grown a lot and barely fit through the doorframe anymore, but he still behaved like an over-excited puppy. It was adorable and gave them 'scary dog privilege' when going on a walk in the park with him.

Tav was in the middle of figuring out what rhymes with 'apple' when there was a knock on the front door. The bard wiped her ink-stained fingers on a cloth before getting up and opening the door.

"Oak Father preserve you, my heart. How are you?"

"Halsin!" Tav fell around his neck, beaming. "I missed you. I'm alright, and you? Come in, love."

With a chuckle, the druid entered Gale's tower house and shook off his coat and boots.

"Nature's preparing for her hibernation. The snow will cover her like a warm, protective blanket soon."

"You're always so poetic," Tav smiled. "We truly must write a poetry book together. Maybe this winter? Will you stay longer this time or did you plan to travel during the winter season?"

"I'm not sure yet," Halsin answered as he was ushered into the kitchen to sit down. "It depends on how much it'll snow – and how long I can stand the city."

"I see. You can decide spontaneously," the human bard told him. She put the kettle on the stove and piled cookies from a ceramic yar onto a plate. She put it down in front of the druid. "Here, eat some. Gale baked all of our favourites."

Halsin looked at the plate and pointed at the vanilla shortbread.

"Let me guess; Gale's favourite?"

Tav nodded grinning.

The druid chuckled, studying the assortment again. He took a crescent-shaped cookie and sniffed it.

"Cinnamon, hm... Shadowheart? She strikes me as someone who likes exotic flavours."

"You're right, kudos."

Smiling softly, Halsin grabbed a pale star-shaped pastry and took a bite.

"Lemon? That's your favourite? I wouldn't have thought that. You look more like someone who likes raisins."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tav asked, pursing her lips.

Halsin chuckled and leaned his head back to look at her.

"Your welcoming, open-minded, flamboyant nature reminds me of the people in the south - even though your skin's so pale it would burn down there. When I'm in wildshape, you smell like raisins. Somehow, I can picture you between the vineyards and the olive trees."

"And the citrus trees," Tav added. Then, she sighed. "You're awfully observant. It's almost a bit scary."

When the druid looked at her confused, she sighed again, explaining: "I am from the south and did grow up next to a vineyard."

Halsin's eyes widened in surprise and Tav chuckled. She kissed his temple and muttered: "I do like raisins, but lemons are my favourite. When I was a kid, I ate them like apples."

The druid shook himself at the thought, making his lover snicker. The latter stole a lemon cookie from the plate and shoved it in her mouth. Halsin pointed at the sticky clusters, asking: "And what are those?"

"Walnut-honey cookies. Gale thought you might like them since you love honey."

Halsin blinked at her dumbly.

"Gale baked cookies for me?"

"If course! You're family after all."

"Oh."

Touched, the druid gazed at the plate and welled up a bit. He gently took one of the misshapen cookies and took a bite. He closed his eyes and moaned as the taste of flowery honey and earthy walnut exploded in his mouth.

"Good?" asked Tav, rubbing his shoulder blades.

"Mmh, definitely my favourite," sighed Halsin. "I must thank Gale properly. They are divine."

"He should have become a cook or baker instead of a wizard," Tav agreed, stealing another lemon cookie.

Halsin did the same, happily munching on the sweet treats. The bard walked over to the stove and brew tea. She filled two cups, placed them on the table, and sat down next to the wood elf. They silently enjoyed the beverage and the pastries for a while.

"What do you think was Astarion's favourite cookie?" Halsin suddenly asked. "Maybe something with exotic, expensive spices?"

"Or cherries?" Tav wondered.

"No, peaches," the vampire spawn revealed as he strode into the kitchen. "Hello, druid. Nice to see you again."

"Oak Father preserve you, Astarion. How was your rest?"

"Good, but I'm peckish now. Can I take a nibble?"

"Sure."

Astarion stared at him in surprise.

"Really?"

"Mhm," Halsin answered with a shrug.

Licking his lips, the vampire spawn moved closer, stroke a finger along the druid's thick neck before biting down. Halsin gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. He still wasn't used to the feeling of being bitten – other than Tav and Gale. Shadowheart refused to let Astarion feed from her and he respected her boundaries. The vampire spawn drew back, licked the wound clean and then his mouth. He swayed slightly, drunk on the druid's blood, again.

"Thank you, darling," Astarion slurred and kissed him sloppily before staggering out of the kitchen to lay down in front of the fireplace.

"Your blood has an interesting effect on him. I wonder why," Tav mused.

"Me too. He only gets drunk when feeding on me," Halsin muttered. "He says I taste like a bear."

That made Tav giggle.

"And what a lovely bear you are," she teased and leaned over to connect their lips. "I'll run you a bath."

"Mmh, thank you, my heart."

They kissed again before the bard left the kitchen and the druid finished the plate by himself. Then, he got up to seek out Gale in his study. The wizard was hunched over his letters, conferring with Tara.

"Oak Father preserve you, Gale. How are you?"

"Oh, hello Halsin. It's a pleasure to have you back. How was the journey?"

"Good. We'll talk about the details over dinner."

"Of course. Excuse me, I have to finish these letters first before I can start cooking."

Gale turned his attention back to his work.

"It's good to see you again, Mr. Halsin," Tara said and purred as she accepted the druid's caresses.

"It's nice to be back. Thank you for the cookies, Gale. They're delicious," Halsin said, smiling.

"Oh? I'm glad you like them," the addressed replied with a sigh of relief. "I didn't know what you prefer, but when Tav said you like honey, I remembered this recipe."

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart," the druid told him. He didn't know how to show his gratitude or how to repay the favour, thus, he did the only thing that was able to express his feelings; he gave Gale a tender kiss. The wizard gasped in surprise, but placed a hand on Halsin's chest immediately. When they parted, they leaned their foreheads together.

"Thank you," whispered the druid. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Mh, I can only assume," mumbled Gale, still slightly overwhelmed by the sudden kiss.

"Halsin! The bath's ready!" yelled Tav from the bathroom.

Halsin smiled and kissed Gale again before he left the room.

"What a lovely way to show his gratitude," purred Tara, highly amused.

Gale hummed, dazed, and went back to work.

At the dinner table, Halsin told them about his journey. The former Shadow-Cursed Lands had recovered and the wildlife was returning, slowly but steadily. Soon, the area would be suitable for people again, but Halsin was torn.

"It had been my home before the Shadow Curse claimed the lands. I always dreamed of returning, but now, that I can, I'm unsure about it. It feels so different now. The energy's not the same, nature has changed, and it doesn't feel like my homelands anymore." The druid sighed melancholically. "But I'm sure the lands would serve the refugees well. They're not welcome in Baldur's Gate and are forced to live in misery. Maybe, if I'd guide them to Thaniel's Realm, they'll find new hope and a new home."

After said gloomy words, Halsin changed the topic and handed Gale a set of ceramic soup bowls that he'd bought in Mirabar. The wizard marvelled at the craftsmanship and gushed over the design; dark blue background with yellow stars, moons, and suns.

"You were in Mirabar again?" asked Tav.

Halsin nodded.

"I saw the beautiful ceramic ware last time, but didn't buy anything. Winter Solstice is near and your hospitality's always wonderful, thus, I thought I'll bring you a gift to show my appreciation."

"Thank you, Halsin, but you're not just a guest here, you're family," Gale told him, looking serious.

The druid was taken aback and averted his gaze.

"Am I? Hm... thank you. That's... an honour, truly," he mumbled, blushing slightly.

"Of course you are," Gale replied with a smile. Shadowheart, Astarion, and Tav nodded in agreement and the latter placed her hand on Halsin's.

The druid welled up a second time this day.

The conversation had lit a fire in his belly, something he'd never felt before, and it overwhelmed him. Halsin possessively placed a hand in Tav's neck as he kissed her hungrily. Even though he'd had dinner, he was starving. With a growl, he grabbed the bard's buttocks and hoisted her onto his hips. She immediately wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"What's on your mind, love? You're acting strangely," Tav panted.

Instead of answering, Halsin kissed her again. He didn't want to talk, couldn't put into words what he felt. He dropped his lover onto the bed, hastily removing her clothes before stripping himself. Tav stretched an arm towards him to caress his cheek.

"Halsin, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Quite the opposite actually," he answered.

Before she could keep pestering him in concern, the druid bent down and started to eat her out. Tav moaned, bucked her hips up, and sunk a hand into his hair. Halsin focused on drowning in her taste and smell. He didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to be. The bard mewled and came across his tongue, and Halsin moaned at the familiar taste. He didn't give her time to rest and entered her immediately. Tav whimpered but pulled him into a messy kiss. Halsin squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. It was too much, too intimate, too loving. Tav was warm and welcoming, trusting him completely. He smelled her skin, felt her breath on his cheek as she panted, her strong arms around him. Halsin drew back and looked at her. Dazed, she gazed up at him.

"Halsin, love, what's –"

The addressed pulled out, flipped her over, and pushed her head into the mattress.

"Stop talking. Please," he pleaded, desperately trying to gain control over his emotions and the scratching beast inside him.

Tav nodded silently and he grabbed her hips to pull her up onto her knees. Halsin entered her again with a groan and leaned over her. His thrusts were hard and fast, making the bard whimper and sob in ecstasy. The druid kissed her shoulder blade. The bear inside him spurred him on to mark his possession. To mate and mark what was his. Moaning, Halsin licked the bard's sweat off, grazing her rosy, freckled skin with his teeth. The beast roared and the druid growled irritated.

"Do it," Tav told him. "Bite me, Halsin. Mark me and make me yours."

The wood elf growled again, grabbed her broad shoulder to pull her closer, and listened to his natural instinct. He sunk his teeth into the nape of Tav's neck, biting down until he could taste blood. The bard gasped and groaned, but kept perfectly still. A shiver ran down the druid's spine, it felt like he was lit aflame, liquid fire running along the bones. A mating bite. Marking someone as his. His.

Mine, Halsin's brain screamed and he moaned as his climax hit him like a boulder. Colours exploded behind his closed eyelids and his ears were ringing. His legs gave out and he collapsed onto Tav who got squished into the bed under his weight. At the moment, Halsin neither noticed nor cared, his brain was still caught up in the fact that he'd marked his lover. It hadn't been a new feeling, he'd had the urge to bite for as long as he could remember, but he'd never acted on it. Halsin had never marked a lover before. It had been a big no-no, too animalistic, even for his taste. Something he'd been ashamed of and had always controlled – until now. Halsin finally unclenched his teeth and lazily tongued the bleeding wound and rolled off of Tav to let her breathe properly.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out huskily.

"Don't be," she replied, way too calmly for someone who'd just been mated and marked like an animal.

"Why aren't you freaked out by this?"

Tav just shrugged nonchalantly.

Halsin's non-bear brain started panicking.

"I- I bit you. Marked you. I left a mating bite on you!"

"I know," the bard replied, stretching languorously.

The druid stared at her in disbelief and repeated: "I left a mating bite on you."

Tav looked at him with a smile and stroke his cheek.

"I know," she said and kissed him sweetly. "I'm yours."

"You're mine," Halsin whispered, pulling her into another kiss.

The beast in him was sated, satisfied, and the druid felt as content as he hadn't in a long while. Tav was his, and now, the entire world could see it.

[stealthnoodle]

Baldur's Gate 3 is still letting me do things, and with my strategy of playing this game during all of my free time to distract from December, I have done things all the way to the end of it! And immediately am starting a new game, because of course I am.

Let's get this tragedy out of the way first and then go into spoilers:

Presented with the option to give Mother the MacGuffin, Miette naturally refused. Listen. She got Wyll out of his pact. She stopped a big ol' vampiric ascension and turned hundreds of vampire spawn loose in the Underdark. She killed a devil who had been harassing her all game and stole all his stuff. No one tells her she can't do something, especially not Mother.

(Also she didn't drag that fancy magic hammer out of Hell for nothing, and Lae'zel was her cherished fuck-buddy for like four whole days, so no. Mother cannot eat Orpheus.)

Which means I got the Patricia Lockwood heel-turn. Then Orpheus called Miette out for fucking a mindflayer (in front of all her friends, who had magically forgotten about that), which was rude, but she still turned into a mindflayer herself partially so he wouldn't have to but mostly so she could be the tall one.

SIZE MEDIUM, BITCHES. Now Miette is the one who opens the cupboards and the cans! Now Miette is the one who kicks YOUR body like the football! (During that final battle, it was actually Karlach who kicked mindflayers off the edge of the brainship, but close enough, shhh.)

I would like to stress that Miette consumed zero tadpoles prior to this, because Mother told her to and she doesn't obey Mother. "Embrace Your Potential" has languished in the quest log. We just went zero to eldritch horror in a snap. Like damn, I could have had these abilities all along??

The only downside, as far as Miette is concerned, is that she can't wear the jutilated jarapace anymore. :( A tragedy second only to the Karlach situation. (Well, not second to the entire Karlach situation, because her breakdown after killing Gortash made me fucking cry.)

Then I ran into the consequences of making everyone prance around camp in sexy underwear combined with my decision to yoink Halsin's armor without replacing it with anything:

He showed up like this AGAIN in the background of the ending during a very emotional Karlach moment, too:

idk if it's a bug or intentional that the ending skipped ahead without any more character interactions after Miette decided to relocate to Avernus with ex-bf Wyll and never-gf Karlach, but I want to believe everyone just wanted to wrap things up after this.

The reunion epilogue was very sweet and I had to spend three (3) points of inspiration not to freak out and eat Shadowheart's brain, which feels like a very Miette sendoff. Though not as much of a Miette sendoff as me stubbornly trying to change her clothes for five straight minutes because why can't she wear her sexy lingerie anymore.

The moral of the story is that mindflayers deserve fashion rights.

Speaking of fashion rights, I want to find out what this "Dark Urge" origin is, and I made the perfect woman for the job:

For her Guardian, I hit "Randomize" once and got this. The game knows what I'm doing and it is enabling me

[demyxdancer]

bg3 updates: get befriended, idiots

This is what my messy charlatan drow bard looks like. I was going for "condescending, but so very tired."

Every single sassy bard option will be chosen.

Oh hey, it's the guy who is currently filling my dash.

"*nervous laughter* Oh of course this will turn me into a monster, why would I expect otherwise?" is the perfect reaction to this whole situation. We're going to get along just fine.

ASTARION WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR PANTS

Why are you wearing crotchless chaps

We are not at that stage in our relationship yet

I also enjoy this guy so far.

Joking, easy-going outward facade that's very clearly hiding something terrible.

The tooltips say his underwear is enchanted for some reason.

The tooltips also say his clothes smell like a library. Between that and his cat-owning, this guy is laser-focused to appeal to a certain group playing this game. I get it.

Not pictured: Lae'zel's face when I told her to say "please," earning me approval points with Astarion and Shadowheart. Poor Lae'zel doesn't even know she's about to spend the whoel game getting dunked on by my band of merry incompetents.

I also stole a kiwi from some guy.

[fool-errant]

Rapport

Sorry Astarion isn't in this one much - I started in one direction and wandered off into the weeds. If somehow I keep spitting drabble he'll show up again. This is more of Halla the bard no one wanted to know. She is in the previous scrap I posted. Shes an old tabletop DnD character - and yes she is in fact an awful person. Just in a fun non murder-y way.

Being a bard of small talent - and a swindler of even more skill, Halla considered herself good with people. She had to be. The fact no one had lynched her yet was proof enough. Find a common topic to pull a conversation out, keep them interested. Build a rapport. Soon people were convinced she was a “like minded individual” and not think of her when things started going missing or falling apart.

Their small group of traumatized adventurers hadn’t been too different. Common experiences aside she needed more than a support group if they were going to survive without tentacles. Well at least - increase the odds of non tentacled lives.

The wizard, was useful, in a tactical way. Working with him was easy, like many magic scholars, was all too eager to talk about himself. A smile there, a nod or three when he mentioned the weave and he was receptive to her suggestions. She suspected that being abducted was the most social interaction he’d experienced in a long time.

Shadowheart was a bit odd - but nothing too interesting. Figure out what strange enclave she had been shaken out of, make a few theatrical shows of faith, any faith that wasn't diametrically opposed, and she’d probably be able to get close enough to examine that little trinket the cleric guarded so closely. The gith, she’d heard of her ilk. Nothing good. But nothing specific. Just - rumors. Alas her disposition and dislike for everyone made it hard to talk with her. But there was a pragmatism Halla respected even if their methods of solving problems conflicted. Gith it seemed had two solutions for everything - both ended in blood and screaming. Alas Lae’zel did have a point that they should be very concerned about the fact they were going to die. It was hard to argue with that fact. Of course Halla was concerned. She was very concerned. But there was time for panicking later. It wouldn’t do to lose what was left of one's head in the middle of this wilderness.

 But Halla couldn’t coax or persuade the worm out of her skull, so she was working with what she had. And what she had was what was left of her wits, a violin and a group of random abductees that seemed to be getting larger everyday. Now the elf was a bit of a puzzle. He was annoying. But the wrong shape of annoying. He was of some nobility or rank. At least that was what the clothes and accent was telling her. But an upper city swell willing to get his hands dirty and try to pick a fight with a complete stranger. He was too competent at it, she’d gotten out of his grasp without much trouble but he moved with the ease of someone used to conflict. He also picked locks better than she did. Which was mildly embarrassing on a professional level, but another flaw in the facade.

“We must travel in different circles.” She’d played, performed, danced, drank and stole in many circles but she was sure she’d never seen him around. He also hadn’t mentioned how wealthy he was or which important people he knew in the city. Which felt out of character for an Upper City fop of any stripe. They were always flaunting who they knew, or who they were related to. It was a currency they used and spent like she used her smile and charms.

He was clearly lying. Hiding something. Maybe they were in similar lines of work and he was new in the city. He was too articulate to be Guild. Wrong sort for a mercenary group. Somehow, vampire spawn had never crossed her mind in the list of possibilities. In hindsight she should have sorted it out before they found the dead boar. Though watching the pale elf dance around a pig corpse and the topic of how it got there did prove to her that no, he was not in fact in the same line of work she was. He was terrible at it. Having the ridiculous man try to feed on her in the dark had been a bit of a surprise. It was hardly the first time someone attacked her in her bed. Though the teeth were a first. To Astarion’s credit, he at least had the decency to look ashamed about the situation. She’d allowed him to feed, it had been much less orgasmic than she’d been led to believe. He went at it with the enthusiasm of a man starving. If he’s telling the truth he probably was. He did at least keep his word and stopped when she asked. Better than she’d expect from a man attacking a lady in her bedroll. It had been a stupid thing to do. Halla’s self preservation, usually her strongest trait, was screaming at her. Her blood belonged in her body. One couldn’t just give out pieces of oneself, even the parts that grow back. It was a bad habit to get into. But she was dying anyway, and she needed any advantage if they were going to survive. A vampire owing her a favor might be useful.