#owlbear cup

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Magic Touch

Astarion and Gale get frisky again after weeks of only chaste kisses. The wizard conjures a mage hand for 'assistance'. The vampire spawn approves.

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, body worship, cum eating, frottage, hand job, (im)proper use of mage hand)

Notes:

The title's based on Gale's voice line "I have the magic touch".

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.

According to DnD lore, elves don't sleep, but rest in a meditative, trance-like state called reverie. You can see Astarion (and your Elven Tav) do exactly that in camp during a long rest when a sleep-around-the-campfire cutscene plays.

Also: Happy new year, everyone! May your 2024 be prosperous and filled with happiness, good health and good fortune. <3 Here's to a great start ;)

Gale had fallen asleep in his study again, halfway lying on the bed in the corner, surrounded by his students' essays. Astarion smiled at the scene. Carefully and light-footed, he stacked the papers and books, placed them on the desk, lifted Gale's legs up onto the bed, and covered him with a blanket. The wizard sighed in his sleep, but didn't wake. After one last glance, Astarion extinguished all the candles and made his way to the living room where the animals dwelled. Blearily, Scratch and Naïlo blinked at him.

"Hey, boys, would you like to join me on a walk?" Astarion whispered.

The dog yawned and placed his head back on his paws, but the owlbear chirped excitedly. The vampire spawn snickered.

"Well then... come on, my feathery friend."

"Good luck on your hunt, Mister Ancunin," purred Tara sleepily.

"Thanks, my sweet."

Naïlo was fully-grown now, barely fitting through the wide doorframes in Gale's tower house. They'd talked to him multiple times about freedom, but the owlbear refused to leave the place he called home. He had no desire to go out into the wilderness by himself and wished to stay with them. Of course, they allowed it and couldn't deny Naïlo anything. No matter how big, he would always be their little cub.

Astarion had started to go hunting in the woods with him. It was fun to run for hours without stopping and watching the owlbear kill their prey efficiently and quickly. Today was no different. The vampire spawn sprinted through the forest next to a hyped-up owlbear and there was no need for him to slow down. Suddenly, Naïlo came to an abrupt halt, staring to their right. Astarion sniffed the air. A bear. With a wide grin that showed his fangs, he nodded and made a hand gesture towards their prey. The owlbear pounced, slaying the bear with one big swipe of his sharp claws. Roaring, their prey collapsed and died. Astarion heard its heart stop. With a questioning chirp, Naïlo turned around to look at him.

"Well done, pup," the vampire spawn praised.

He slinked closer, kneeled, and drove his fangs into the still warm corpse. Astarion drew back when he felt drunk. As soon as he'd stepped away, Naïlo started to eat with gusto. The vampire spawn watched, pleasantly intoxicated, his vision slightly blurred. Lazily, he licked his mouth and chin clean until the owlbear's belly was full. Then, they slowly made their way back to Waterdeep, content and sated.

At home, Naïlo curled around Scratch and Tara and fell asleep immediately. Astarion, on the other hand, freshened up in the bathroom before checking on everyone. Tav and Shadowheart were sleeping soundly, back to back, and he didn't want to disturb them. He planned to quickly take a look at Gale before making his way downstairs to his basement room, but found the wizard awake with a cup of tea balanced on his knees.

"Thank you for covering me with the blanket," Gale smiled. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, darling. Everything alright?"

"Yes, just..." The wizard sighed, rubbing his strained eyes. "There's so much paperwork and some of the pupils have awful handwriting."

Astarion chuckled, finally fully entering the study, and sat down next to his lover.

"Would you like my help? I don't know much about the Applied Arts, but I'm rather talented at reading ancient languages. I'm sure I can figure out your pupils' messy writing."

Gale smiled at him softly.

"Thank you, dear. I might take you up on your offer tomorrow." He sipped on his teacup. "How was tonight's hunt?"

"Good. I had a bear," Astarion grinned, leaning against the wizard's shoulder. "I went into the woods with Naïlo."

"Aah, I see. Lovely."

"Bears always get me drunk. I don't know why. – I'm sure you could figure it out. You're a genius after all."

Astarion slumped closer, with a drunken giggle. Gale snorted an amused laugh.

"Look at you. You're an intoxicated mess."

"Mhm."

Astarion grinned at him before sitting up straight and smashing their lips together. Gale gasped in surprise.

"Mind the tea!"

"Sure," slurred the vampire spawn, took the teacup from the wizard and placed it on the floor next to a stack of specialist literature. "May I kiss you again?"

"Yes."

They fell into each other's arms, tongue kissing sloppily.

They'd settled into an easy dynamic regarding their relationship. They were rarely sexually intimate, mostly just kissing and snuggling. They were both content and happy with their arrangement and usually didn't need more. Usually. But not tonight.

Astarion slid his hands up the side of Gale's neck hungrily, running his fingers through the long, dark mane.

"I can see even more grey hair than when we first met," he noted. "It suits you. You're beautiful."

"So are you," panted the wizard.

"It's a good thing you're not at risk of spontaneously combusting anymore because of too much excitement. It would be a shame to lose a perfectly good Gale Dekarios, renowned wizard of Waterdeep, and professor at the Blackstaff Academy for Applied Magic Arts."

Gale's laugh was swallowed by Astarion's greedy mouth and the latter humped against the wizard's thigh.

"I need more," the vampire spawn moaned. "Please?"

"Yes."

Frenzied, Astarion doffed his clothes, exposing his pale skin and proudly standing erection. He bored his ruby-red eyes into the wizard, pleading.

"Come here," Gale offered, opening his arms.

Astarion plucked at Gale's shirt.

"Take your clothes off."

"No."

"But I want to –"

"Let me take care of you, Astarion. Come here. Lean your back against my chest."

The addressed complied, placing his head on Gale's shoulder and spreading his legs wide for him to see.

"Beautiful," the wizard whispered into his ear as he watched the plane of Astarion's body from behind him. The vampire spawn moaned lowly and pushed himself closer to the warmth of his lover. Gale kissed his cheek and recited a magic spell, conjuring a mage hand. It finally clicked in Astarion's still slightly intoxicated head.

"Oh," he breathed.

"Yeah." Astarion could literally hear Gale's smug grin in the way he responded. "Now, relax, dear, and let me work my magic."

The vampire spawn gasped when the mage hand wrapped its fingers around his member. There was resistance, almost like a real hand, and it was about the same temperature as his cold, undead body. Gale shushed him quietly and started running his hands over Astarion's chest. The latter moaned at the heat of them. Such a stark contrast to the mage hand and his own body. Gale let his hands wander further down, exploring his lovers abdomen, dipping his thumb into his navel, and brushing fingers over the naturally hairless pubic bone. Astarion's hips bucked up at the touch and he started to pant.

"So lovely for me," Gale praised, whispering right into Astarion's ear. The latter whined, shuddering as the wizard's hot breath ghosted over his neck. Gale kissed his ear, licking along the shell with his hot tongue, and Astarion moaned and started to drool. The conjured hand steadily stripped his cock with a comfortable grip while Gale's hands caressed his chest and abdomen lazily. Astarion shuddered as he felt the wizard's hot breath hit the shell of his ear again and his erection rub up and down his lower back. The vampire spawn tightened his grip on his lover's knees.

"Gale," he moaned, lolling his head against the other man's shoulder. "Gale... please..."

He was so close, but something was missing and he didn't know what. The wizard hummed, licking Astarion's pointy ear, and with a wail, the latter came undone. His seeds shot over the mage hand and his own gaunt belly. Astarion's legs shook, his hips gave little aborted thrusts, and his ruby-red eyes were still screwed shut. Gale tightened his grip on his lover's chest and abdomen, pressing him closer to himself, and rutted against his back until he climaxed. Astarion shivered when Gale's hot breath puffed against his neck and he felt the wizard's seeds wetting his tailbone as they seeped through the underpants. Groaning, the vampire spawn slumped against the hot body behind him.

"Gods...."

He moaned gutturally when Gale dipped his fingers into the sticky mess on his stomach and brought them up to lick it off. The wizard made a face.

"I wager I'll never acquire a taste for the male release. But it could be worse I guess..."

Astarion hummed and sucked Gale's fingers into his mouth. The wizard's breath hitched and the vampire spawn coiled his skilled tongue around the digits.

"You'll be the death of me," muttered Gale and when Astarion finally let go of his fingers, he shifted his lover sideways to kiss him better. Moaning, the vampire spawn tangled his hands in Gale's hair, kissing back as good as he could, still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. Gale scooped up some more semen and licked it off while staring right at Astarion who make an undignified noise as he watched. Carefully, the latter slid his hand into Gale's underwear, toying with his spent member. The wizard hissed in discomfort, still too sensitive to be touched. Astarion retracted his hand, now sticky with cum, and licked it clean. Gale stared at him, wide-eyed and in disbelief.

"By the Gods," he groaned before pulling the vampire spawn into another kiss.

Astarion sighed into it, utterly content and sated. They finally broke apart and lay down, closely entangled.

"That was amazing, darling," Astarion purred. "I couldn't even return the favour."

"Hmm," muttered Gale, already half-asleep.

The vampire spawn petted his hair and promised: "Next time, I'll be the one wielding around the mage hand."

"Mhm," Gale mumbled smiling.

Astarion watched over him as he fell into an exhausted sleep. The wizard truly needed to be fully rested to survive his cheeky students at the academy. The vampire spawn placed a gentle kiss on Gale's greying hair and slipped into reverie.

[hyydraworks]

Working on bg3 guys for the March shop update including some big ol tumblers.

[catfishofoldin99colours]

mmmmrrrrggghhhhhhh slow day

[nethereasypeasy]

Some fluffy head canons I have about the Baldurs Babes

mainly at camp :)

Gale stops tav to lace their boots, sarcastically tutting as he does it.

Karlach holds her hands round someones bowl and cups to warm them if they cool down too much. (Mama K microwave™)

Jaheira and Halsin share nightcaps and chat about the tadpole team. Mainly laughing at their comparative lack of experience - always ends on a 'they're good eggs tho' vibe.

Astarion and Shadowheart rate people's hair to eachother as an injoke, tav hears them mumbling numbers behind them whenever they speak to someone.

Lae'zel asks Gale to explain and pronounce things when no one is around because the 'annoying wizard' won't make fun, he's too eager to teach.

Jaheira has the best bedtime stories but they get Karlach hyped up and she asks a lot of questions till Astarion begs her to be quiet. Wyll takes mental notes for his own storytelling.

Karlach will force a game of 'I Spy' any time there is silence on the road.

Wyll is very good at little random gifts, he just remembers anything someone mentions to him. He's also low-key emotional if you return that kindness, 'you remembered?! 😭'

Halsin stops, kneels and whispers as he points and shows tav interesting plants or animals he spots when walking. 'look there's the mother and her babies' type shit. (He is camp dad(dy) ok)

Wyll teaches Lae'zel fencing. She's too keen though and tries to pin him down. She is not as graceful... But she has fun... chk!

Gale keeps a tiny portrait of Tara on him, you can't tell me modern au Gale's phone wouldn't be full of cat pics.

Astarion watches over the camp at night, he acts like he 'might as well/ I'm the only one lurking in the dark around HERE darlings' but sometimes he secretly gets a little teary looking at his first real friends all together.

Shadowheart writes moody poetry. She would tell Gale but she doesn't care for his taste... Or his possible critiques. If he ever did find her journal though he would be VERY enthused.

Astarion and tav will play with people's wardrobes when looting. Tav loves a funny hat and Astarion will do impressions of who he thinks would wear such god's awful attire.

Gale and Wyll play chess together after dinner some nights. They both say progressively cheesy lines when they take pieces, which is its own game itself at this point.

Halsin would quietly sing or hum to owlbear baby and scratch at night. Little lullabies and he'd probably tuck them in too. OR he'd be big daddy bear and snuggle up, especially when owlbear is scared and misses his mum.

The gang have played 'never have I ever' ONE time and ONE time only. It was a messy night.

... Jaheira was 100% last man standing.

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's at a party, lunch box in tow, and he's making a fucking killing.

He sets up shop in the crowded kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from spotting King Steve in the living room. Harrington's face is still fucked up from the fight with Hargrove, and he's tipping a cup almost vertically into his mouth. He's not too surprised when--the next time he spots the jock--he has a can of beer in each fist.

More customers flood up to him, and he can't help but be a little grateful for the distraction. Harrington is one unrequited crush he just can't kick.

Lunch box cleaned out, Eddie heads outside for a smoke. He's fishing his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket when he hears a snuffling sort of shuffle that sends his heart racing.

He edges forward, just enough to make out the heap of a person half-heartedly sitting up against the house. A person in fitted blue jeans, tight polo, and Member's Only jacket; swoop of chestnut hair catching in the flash of fire from Eddie's Zippo.

"Harrington?"

The guy startles, stability wavering, eyes blinking too much. "Munson?"

"You alright, man?" He asks, though he can already tell that Steve is most definitely not.

Steve shrugs. "Why do you care?" It's not mean, sounds genuinely curious.

Eddie gets it. He has no reason on earth to show concern about King Steve. In answer, he taps his boot against Steve's sneaker, giving him a small smile. "Not sure. But I'm here, so..."

"Just needed some air. Clear my head."

"How much have you had to drink?" Eddie asks.

"One or two,"

"Dozen?"

Steve laughs. "You're funny. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"I've heard," Eddie says, can't help but laugh a little too. "Wanna talk about what's going on?"

Eddie thinks that'll be a "no," but then: "Nancy dumped me."

"Yeah, big news."

"Ugh, people are talking about it?" Steve whines. It's really cute and Eddie hates himself for noticing. Hates himself more when Steve loses his balance, tips onto Eddie's shoulder, and Eddie doesn't tip him back.

Eddie can tell that Steve isn't fully with him anymore. He's a little afraid to leave the guy alone, so Eddie talks about the latest Hellfire campaign. Sober Steve Harrington probably has no idea what dnd is, but the drunk version is kind of a rapt audience.

He's just explaining about owlbears when Steve's voice, soft and sad, says "I just want someone to love me, you know?"

The admission renders Eddie speechless for a second, his chest fucking aching for the jock. He says "Oh, Stevie," knows he sounds too sad, is sure of it when Steve's nose wrinkles (it's cute; it's so fucking cute. Eddie hates himself for noticing).

Before he can backtrack, Steve slumps over, body going limp as he passes out. "Jesus H Christ," Eddie barks.

With a heavy sigh, and way too much fondness, Eddie stands. "Let's get you home, sweetheart."

He gathers Harrington up in his arms--dude is heavy--and carries him around to his van.

---

Steve wakes up, head throbbing and tongue fuzzy, with no idea how he got home and into bed. Can't really recall anything after he stumbled outside, aside from talking to Eddie Munson. But maybe that was a dream? Either way, he's home, not really any worse for wear. It's enough to let him forget all about it; what's one drunken party in a life full of them?

That Wednesday, he opens his locker after the final bell, and a Hershey bar falls out. He picks it up, flipping it over to see a note on the foil wrapping, "thought you might need something sweet to cheer you up." It's not signed, and Steve slips it into his backpack, knowing he's got a silly smile on his handsome face.

The little gifts continue to show up once or twice a week. Candy, plastic vending machine toys, sketches of the school grounds, caricatures of classmates and teachers. Sometimes they even come with a note in handwriting he doesn't recognize.

Along with the little treats, he starts seeing Eddie Munson kind of everywhere. And it's not like Steve hadn't seen him before--guy was hard to miss--but he was never around this often. Wasn't around this often and he and Steve had never shared a smile, a quick bob of the head, a quiet hello.

It isn't long before they're talking. Nothing much, nothing serious. Complaining about teachers, about classmates; sharing weekend plans. Only now Steve can't pretend to not notice the way Eddie dimples up when he smiles, the subtle muscles that bunch under the sleeves of his Hellfire Club shirt, the long litheness of his legs. Steve knows he's attracted to other guys, it's just that he didn't realize he'd be attracted to Eddie.

The gifts keep coming. Once, he opens his locker to find a plastic ring fashioned into a golden crown and a note that says, "made me think of you, Stevie." There's something about the "Stevie" that catches deep in his brain, but he can't make it connect to anything.

A few months later, Steve opens his locker and pulls out a drawing. This one--it's of him. He's gazing out into space in a way that managers to be dreamy and wistful. The Steve in the drawing is lovely, and it makes something clench deep in his gut, that someone sees him like this.

Steve tries to be more aware of the people in his surroundings, to figure out who his admirer is. He's not very good at it, even as more sketches of him--all depicting him as a gorgeous, ethereal thing he definitely isn't--show up in his locker. Especially when, so often these days, the person he sees the most is Eddie.

---

The presents in his locker continue into April, and would probably last until the end of the school year, but Steve's got a migraine starting. He keeps aspirin in his locker, gets a hall pass out of English to get some.

When he reaches his locker, though, someone is already there, with the door open. Someone in ripped black jeans, heavy black boots, a black leather jacket, and patch covered denim vest.

"Munson?" He asks. His heart beats so hard it reverberates in his ears, making it hard to hear.

Eddie jumps back, hands fluttering, face flushing bright red. "Ste--Harrington! I--uh--," he's backing up, his hands held out from his body, like he's pushing Steve away even though they aren't touching.

"Were you--?" Steve tries to ask, but the words won't quite come. There's familiar warmth low in his stomach, a twisting that has nothing to do with his impending migraine.

"I wasn't doing anything, I swear," Eddie says. He's breathing hard, eyes too bright, and Steve thinks he might be about to cry, but then the metalhead is turning away, starting to run.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve calls, chasing after him without much thought. "Please!"

Eddie doesn't stop until after they've crashed out one of the side exits, are alone outside.

"It was you? Leaving the--?"

Eddie nods, presses his hands to his eyes. "Sorry, I'm sorry, Harrington. I just--"

"Don't be sorry," Steve begs. "It's been--I liked it."

"Even now that you know they're coming from the freak?" Eddie spits. He still hides his face behind his hands.

"It's sort of been the best part of my year, if I'm being honest."

Only now does the metalhead remove his hands, blink back at Steve, dark eyes wide with shock. "Really?"

"Yeah. It made me feel-- important, I guess? Like, maybe someone saw me as something more than King Steve."

Eddie smiles now, looks down at the pavement. "I just didn't want you to think that you weren't--" he stops then, presses his mouth tight.

"Didn't want me to think what?"

"That you weren't loved, Stevie."

The statement hangs between them, Eddie's face pinking again, as the words wrap their way around Steve's heart. Loved. That he's loved. It clenches at every part of him, and he surrounds himself with the truth of it, what all those little presents were saying without words.

"Eddie, I--" he's overwhelmed by the gesture, the meaning, the reciprocal buzz in his chest, because Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson, loves him, and this fact is turning Steve's world on it's head in the best way.

"I'm sorry, Steve, really. Please don't hate me, or--or--"

"It means so much to me," Steve says, his voice a little broken. He reaches a hand out, slow, telegraphing the movement. "Can I?" He whispers.

Eddie nods, and Steve strokes the skin of his face with his thumb. "Thank you."

The metalhead nods, leaning into Steve's touch, they shift close, until their foreheads meet, until they share the same air. They stand that way for a while, long enough that they hear the bell ringing, and only then does Steve break their quiet. "Eds?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"You wanna hangout some time?"

Eddie laughs. "Yeah. I really, really do, sweetheart."

[moonselune]

Could I request a drabble where Halsin thinks about how he fell for female reader especially how she helps him even when she doesn't need to (even as a bear) & reminds him to take care of himself too? Even when she's dating him, he admires how she's still caring for him, and her companions including Owlbear, and Scratch too!

Halsin- lemme just- I just wanna smoosh my face into your face, please.

Halsin x f!reader

The camp was quiet, the night air filled with the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl. Halsin sat by the fire, his thoughts drifting as he watched the flames dance. He glanced around the campsite, his eyes settling on you as you moved with effortless grace, tending to the companions. The connection you shared had deepened over time, blossoming into something beautiful and profound.

Halsin's thoughts wandered back to the moment he realized he had fallen for you. It wasn't during a grand battle or a dramatic event, but rather in the quiet moments, the times when you showed your unwavering kindness and compassion. You had a way of caring for others that was both gentle and fierce, a rare combination that had captivated him from the start.

One memory stood out vividly in his mind. It was a day much like any other, with the sun high in the sky and the forest alive with the sounds of nature. Halsin had shifted into his bear form, enjoying the freedom and power it brought. He had been foraging for herbs when he noticed you watching him from a distance, a soft smile on your face.

"Do you need any help, Halsin?" you had called out, your voice filled with genuine concern.

He had grunted in response, shaking his massive head. In bear form, he was more than capable of handling himself. But you had approached anyway, your hands gentle as you patted his fur and checked for any injuries. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about your character. You cared for him, even when he didn't need it, simply because you wanted to.

Halsin's heart had swelled with affection in that moment. It was a feeling that had only grown stronger with time. You had a way of reminding him to take care of himself, even when he was too focused on the needs of others. Your concern was a constant, steadying presence in his life, a beacon of light in the often dark and tumultuous world they navigated.

He admired the way you extended your kindness to everyone in the camp. You were always there, tending to Astarion's wounds with a deft touch, listening to Shadowheart's concerns with an empathetic ear, and ensuring Gale had everything he needed for his arcane experiments. Your compassion extended even to the animals that had become part of their makeshift family. Scratch, the loyal dog, adored you, always wagging his tail excitedly when you were near. The owlbear cub, too, seemed to sense your gentle spirit, often nuzzling against you in search of comfort.

Halsin's gaze softened as he watched you now, kneeling beside Scratch and scratching behind his ears. The dog's tail thumped happily against the ground, and you laughed, a sound that warmed Halsin's heart. You glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled. It was a simple exchange, but it held a world of meaning.

He stood and walked over to you, his movements fluid and graceful despite his size. "You have a remarkable gift," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration.

You tilted your head, a curious look in your eyes. "What do you mean?"

"The way you care for others," he explained, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "You remind me to take care of myself, to slow down and appreciate the small moments. You have a heart as vast and nurturing as the forest itself."

You blushed at his words, a shy smile spreading across your lips. "I just do what feels right."

Halsin chuckled, his hand cupping your cheek. "And that is why I love you. Your kindness, your strength, your unwavering compassion. You make me a better person, and for that, I am endlessly grateful."

Your eyes shimmered with emotion as you leaned into his touch. "I love you too, Halsin. More than words can say."

In that quiet moment, surrounded by the peaceful sounds of the night and the warmth of the campfire, Halsin felt a profound sense of contentment. You were his anchor, his guiding light. And he knew that with you by his side, he could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Hope you liked this nonnie and thank you so much for your sweet message <3 xoxoxo

[natjennie]

"and im gonna go buy party cups" awwww I do lowkey kind of feel bad for fabian this season like. obviously the more highly magical of the group have been favored while figuring out these god mysteries but. fabian's social maneuvering has been important too and his growth as a friend and his success on the owlbears. I don't think he's getting enough credit! especially with the election being so pivotal for the ritual!!! give him some praise!!!

[ratgrinders]

Every Rat Grinders/Bad Kids Interaction

Alright, here’s a compilation of every single Rat Grinder/Bad Kid interaction so far this season, mostly made for my own reference. This only includes meetings the characters have directly, either via magical/technological means, talking, or seeing the character face-to-face. This doesn’t include times information about the Rat Grinders was revealed without the Rat Grinders themselves being present, such as times the Bad Kids only mentioned the Rat Grinders in passing. Under the cut, because its LONG.

Episode 3: Not All Who Wanda Are Lost

The Bad Kids meet Kipperlilly in the morning, signing up for class president, where she reveals she had passed rogue classes for the year and that her platform is based on fairness.

She points out Ruben across the courtyard where he is getting swarmed for autographs.

Fig goes to bard class disguised as her new emo girl persona “Wanda Childa”, pretending to have a crush on him. After she gets kicked out of class she comes back in later through the window, this time not disguised. Ruben sneers at her, then when Fig sees he has a call from Lola Embers he says “I have to answer that later.”

Episode 4: Under Pressure

Fabian gets a Nat 20 to search for Kipperlilly in the cafeteria and while he doesn’t see her, gets a “twinge of some kind of sense”.

Mary Ann tries out for the Owlbears, seeming nonplussed. She absolutely demolishes Gorgug with a tackle, made possible through some sort of enchantment magic. She makes the team and leaves unceremoniously, uninterested in hanging out with them further.

Episode 6: Party Politics

Oisin, Ivy, and Buddy are all seen at the party at Seacaster Manor (Kipperlilly is not seen, but the Bad Kids discuss the possibility that she was there, just invisible).

Buddy is off to the side of the party with a cup full of water, “positive but deeply judgmental”. The Bad Kids approach and talk about how Fabian’s father is in hell now, how Kristin was the chosen of Helio and defected, and how Buddy feels about the rest of his adventuring party.

Oisin and Ivy are playing beer pong at a table when Adaine walks up and talks to him, with Ivy occasionally interjecting. They discuss how they shared a glyphs class in Freshman year, how he got buff over the summer and that’s why no one recognizes him, how his family is rich and he could provide her with money if she needed it, and how his tattoos function as a conjuration aid. After Adaine leaves, Oisin misses every single shot, which Ivy makes fun of him for (later revealed to be a calculated ploy, as seen in episode 17).

Ivy calls out to Fabian razzing him about his ping-pong table, and when he says “fuck you” and she responds “is that a threat?”, he runs away.

Fig disguises herself as Lucy Frostblade and hides a distance away, catching the attention of Ivy (but not Oisin). Ivy seems surprised and makes a hand motion asking if they should meet, but when Ivy excuses herself and starts to come over Fig runs off and skateboards away.

Ivy comes up to Fabian’s room where the Bad Kids are investigating, and when Fabian lies about doing snuff asks if there’s any for her. She also asks about Fig’s fishnets and if she skateboards. When Mazey comes up and asks if they should play Twister, Ivy insults her and Mazey looks crestfallen. Fig offers to play Twister with Mazey which intimidates Ivy into silence, while Fabian stays with Ivy and blows off Mazey. While everyone else is downstairs playing Twister Kristin stays in the room with Fabian and Ivy third-wheeling, until Oisin comes up to the room and says that he and Ivy have to go.

Episode 7: Stress Tested

Kipperlilly has hired a bunch of food trucks for her campaign and is giving out food at lunch in the courtyard. She’s standing on a platform with Mary Ann next to her handing out flyers. The Bad Kids walk up and talk to her, with Kristin wearing a salsa hat that Kipperlilly is unimpressed by. Kipperlilly says that she wasn’t at the Bad Kids’ party because she was studying, and when Kristin asks why she was studying since the rogue teacher found her and she passed all her classes, Kipperlilly just stares at her in silence. When Kristin mentions her goddess died, Kipperlilly responds really loudly “how can you cast spells?” in an attempt to discredit her, and the other Bad Kids jump in to cast a bunch of spells on Kristin and counteract this.

Fabian clumsily reaches out to Ivy at school and Ivy is snarky and cold to him, saying “You missed your shot, Playboy” since she knew Fabian has been recently hanging out with Mazey. 

Episode 8: Fracas at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival

Ruben is performing at the Frostyfaire Folk Festival, with the other Rat Grinders conspicuously absent.

Ruben disguises himself as an old man in an attempt to get the Bad Kids to do drugs, but is caught. He then leaves to go do his set with his band, “My Clerical Gnomance”. As he is playing however, he is interrupted by Principal Grix showing up and casting disintegrate on him. Ruben continues to play while the Bad Kids fight Principal Grix, giving out bardic inspirations to the Bad Kids, and especially to Wanda Childa who he sees in the crowd. He’s written a song just for Wanda and dedicates it to her in the crowd.

Episode 9: Vulture Clash 

When the Bad Kids come out of the Vulture Dimension Ruben is being kept in a hold person spell by Principal Grix, poised to strum down on his guitar for an incredible piece of bard magic. When the Bad Kids break hold person Ruben strums and gives everyone a bardic inspiration. Fabian jumps up on stage and says “I’m actually a huge fan” before leaping off and destroying Grix.

Fig as Wanda Childa begins to leave in a minor illusion bus, and Ruben frantically runs after her. After this, he is nowhere to be seen at the festival.

The Bad Kids discover the body of Lucy Frostblade near Lake Shimmerstone, with a rune in her chest preventing her from being resurrected. Kristin uses her clerical magic to free her from being trapped in the cursed domain of this deity, and Lucy and Yolanda hold hands as they move on to the domain of Cassandra.

Episode 10: Cursed Out

All of the Rat Grinders are seen at the school assembly talking about the death of Yolanda and how all clerics will be moved to pass/fail. Most are unconcerned and/or bored.

Fig disguised as Wanda Childa catches Ruben on a bus, where she talks to him about a true crime podcast that’s discussing the death of Lucy Frostblade. Ruben really wants to see this podcast and Fig asks for Ruben’s email address so she can email him the podcast using a burner email. Ruben says he has to leave because he’s getting mobbed for autographs even though he and Wanda are the only people on the bus, and Fig dimension doors away. 

Kristin talks to Buddy in the hall about the recent pass/fail news for cleric class and about how chill Buddy is, that he leaves the wrath to Sol. Buddy is concerned about Kristin’s brother Bucky being led away from Helio like she was. He says his grandfather Bobby can come and teach the cleric class so they don’t move to pass/fail. Kristin leaves to go check on her brother and gets protective when Buddy says he can do that if she can’t. Buddy needles her about her dead god, and Kristin responds that she’s coming back for the second time, and Helio only came back once.

Episode 11: A Very Merry Moonar Yulenear

Fig enters Ruben’s dream disguised as Kipperlilly, shaping the environment to look like the crime scene of Lucy Frostblade, and says to him “you need to take the fall for this”. Adaine appears ethereally next to her as the Elven Oracle. After Fig says this, Ruben puts a hand to his mouth and from between his fingers what’s described as blood is squeezing out.

Episode 14: Dawn of Justice

In the cafeteria while Kipperlilly is doing a campaign presentation chants in support of Kristin break out. Kipperlilly walks by the Bad Kids’ table to confront them, and when Kristin needles her about devil’s honey Kipperlilly breaks composure and insults her, “It's really nice how charmed everyone is, by how little you fucking care.” A fight almost breaks out with Fig, Fabian, and Gorgug squaring up while Ivy and Oisin try to calm them down. Riz hisses and Mary Ann comments on it, Fig messages her that she could do better and Mary Ann doesn’t know what she means. She asks Gorgug if he has mango soda and Gorgug gets mad. Buddy tries to calm them down and that they should walk in the light of Helio and Kristin says “he’s almost right”. Kristin tries to give Mary Ann a stuffed squishmallow, but Mary Ann already has that one and that she’ll donate it. Adaine says she thought the wizard was cool, and gets a Message from Oisin just saying “sorry”, and the Rat Grinders leave.

Buddy is the student volunteer proctor for the Bad Kids’ Last Standard Exam, set to revive them if any of them die. The Rat Grinders protest saying he’s biased, but the proctor doesn’t budge saying that Buddy has sworn an oath that will strip him of his connection to Helio should he refuse to revive them.

Episode 15: The Last Stand

Kristin is teleported up on the ledge next to Buddy thanks to Adaine’s Scatter spell. Buddy turns to her and says “This is remarkable”. When Kristin eats the Eye of the Vulture King and is granted True Sight, Buddy asks “Everything all right?”, and behind him, aiming a crossbow at the proctor, is Kipperlilly. Kipperlilly sees that she’s been caught, smiles, and slits Buddy’s throat before being teleported away by Oisin. 

Episode 16: Untapped Rage

10 minutes after the Bad Kids leave the Last Stand, Buddy is approached by a 15 foot tall figure who violently revives Buddy back to life with a red gem in his chest, with Buddy saying he worships a nameless god of rage now. Then both Buddy and the figure vanish.

Episode 17: The Name 

Fig tries to enter Ruben’s dream but cannot interact with him directly, though she does see his house and feels that his dream is violent and enraged, but also scared. She also sees a version of Ruben, before his shift to an emo aesthetic, walking scared into the Far Haven Woods.

Fig, disguised as Wanda, goes to Ruben’s house and knocks on the door. She doesn’t get a response but a window opens, though it is unclear who is in the window. Fig as Wanda gets shot with a crossbow by Fabian and Kristin Two in the bushes and pretends to be dead, and after some time passes Gorgug with Enlarge cast on him retrieves her body.

Fig goes to Porter’s office and attempts to give him a fake version of the dead god’s name, with Riz, Adaine, and Gorgug hiding nearby. Through a combination of Riz’s blindsense and Adaine’s detect thoughts, it is revealed an invisible Kipperlilly had been hiding invisible on the lockers the whole time, the same way Riz was hiding.

At Fabian’s birthday/election party, just as his home and everyone in it are lifted into the sky thanks to a cloud rider engine, Oisin telepathically messages Adaine to say “You didn’t see the storm coming? Must not be a very good oracle”.

Episode 18: Rock the Boat

Oisin is heard in the distance chanting in another language, and soon after multiple dragons begin encircling Seacaster Manor, currently aloft in the clouds.

Oisin's dragon ancestor shows up, with Kipperlilly, Oisin, and Jace Stardiamond on her back. All are invisible, but are seen by Adaine and Gorgug thanks to their See Invisibility and True Seeing respectively. Both Oisin and Jace cast a spell, Gorgug makes two wisdom saving throws, and then Kipperlilly breaks a Rune of Recall teleporting all three of them away.

[justporo]

Tavern Talk

I really wanted to write a little something about the companions enjoying a moment of banter at breakfast - so have them complaining about Astarion and Tav not being able to keep their… nightly activities subtle… Spoiler warning!

Pairing: Astarion / GN!Tav

Warning: Talk of sex

(Gif from here!)

The whole party was sitting together eating breakfast in the tavern they stayed in - except, Tav and Astarion sat a few tables away and none of them were really eating. While the vampire and the wood elf were sitting at their small cozy table in the corner being all cute, the rest of the party sat at the big table in the middle and openly stared at the couple - a spoonfull or two even forgotten halfway to its destination.

„I swear to all Gods that will listen that if I have to endure them going at it one more night, I‘m going to kill myself right here, Absolute be damned“, Gale moaned pressing the balls of his hands into his eyesockets. He did indeed look even more tired than usually. Seemingly, the fact that he had one of the two rooms next to the happy couple was to blame.

„I agree, maybe Tav should‘ve taught this wretched vampire to not moan so loudly - even the bard‘s yapping would have been less annoying“, Lae‘zel agreed - she had the other room next to them. She stabbed the fruit on her platter as if she tried to murder it and chewed it angrily. Karlach snorted a little at the githyanki‘s murderous mood while she took a bite of bread.

„Well, if it‘s in his nature to be this vocal than it‘s better to let it out than forcing it down“, Halsin chimed in, a somewhat dreamy look in his eyes while eating another big spoonful of his porridge. He was the only one that wasn‘t really staring at the two other elves.

The druid‘s comment made all heads turn to him for a hot second. „Eww“, Shadowheart made quietly and scrunched up her nose while she kept twirling her sole cup of tea in front of her around.

„Tchk, druid, if you don‘t mind sleeping next to what sounds like a dying owlbear then I‘ll happily swap rooms with you and maybe you can ask to join next time they‘re at it“, Lae‘zel spit towards the towering elven druid.

„That‘s absolutely not what a dying owlbear would sound like“, Halsin answered very matter-of-fact, staring down at the table now with furrowed brows. His pointy ears had turned a telltale shade of light pink.

„You‘re all just jealous“, Karlach entered the conversation. She sat relaxedly on the bench leaning back and crossed her arms over her chest: „Jealous, because they are getting some and we all don‘t.“ „Tss, getting some is not the problem. But you don‘t have to rub it into everyone‘s faces how much amazing sex you‘re having“, Shadowheart responded, nose still scrunched up in disgust.

„So, what I‘m hearing is that you might have a big orgy with an endless amount of lovers in your room every night and none of us would ever know and you would absolutely never sass us about it in your sarcastic little tone you have sometimes“, the wizard replied dryly to Shadowheart‘s remark while raising an eyebrow at the half-elf and gesturing towards her with one hand. „Well, I wouldn‘t tell you, for starters, Gale. Just because you can never keep your mouth shut doesn‘t mean the rest of us can‘t - stop projecting yourself on everybody else.“ That earned Shadowheart snorts and chuckles all around the table - and the wizard did not have a witty reply anymore.

Silence spread through the group. Lae‘zel kept murdering her breakfast, Halsin munched on his food as did Wyll. Karlach kept forgetting to put her bread in her mouth to actually eat it while still throwing glances over to where Tav and Astarion were now holding hands and leaning their heads together like the lovebirds they were. Shadowheart and Gale kept holding on to their hot beverages. Shadowheart usually skipped out on eating for breakfast - and Gale seemed to still fight with being deprived of his beauty sleep.

„But what‘s changed? We all know they fucked before“, Karlach finally broke the silence. The comment earning mumbled approval and more groans around the table („Don‘t remind me, tiefling“, Lae‘zel spat). „They smooch all the damn time in front of everyone and at the most inappropriate times. I mean, it‘s not like they‘re trying to hide anything“, Karlach continued and shrugged. „Yes, by the Gods, I‘d hope they would hide it“, Gale whispered under his breath and stared at the ceiling in desperation.

„I‘d assume what‘s changed is that they‘re both now truly free to choose the one they love and act upon it - without ulterior motives or fear behind it.“ This was the first time Wyll offered any insight on the topic. He had rather politely held his tongue on the matter, not wanting to judge and indulge the gossiping.

„Hmm“, the druid agreed with him and nodded solemnly, „I would think breaking out of your slavery of two hundred years and experiencing real love and genuine connection after that can quite positively turn your world around for the better.“ „Don‘t romanticise that they can‘t be more subtle!“, Shadowheart immediatly exclaimed and crossed her arms over her chest.

„Well, for what it‘s worth I think they deserve to enjoy their love in peace for a bit but if you‘re all so bothered about it, I can go and talk to them about it later“, Wyll offered, completely being the diplomat about the whole thing.

„Chk, warlock, don‘t bother - I feel like these people don‘t want a solution, they‘d rather sit here every morning and gossip and bitch about it“, said Lae‘zel who had finished her food and was now just sitting between the others while brooding.

„I‘m all about handling this like adults“, Gale said and lifted his cup of tea halfway ,“but if they insist behaving like rabbits, we might as well-“

The group never found out what the wizard would have proposed, because he made a sudden jolt and splashed his tea all over himself. Gale squinted through the streams of liquid running down his face and turned around.

Astarion had snuck up on them and kneed Gale in the back, making him spill his drink. Murder twinkled in the vampire‘s red eyes. Karlach and Halsin had broke out into full, body-shaking laughter, even Wyll and Lae‘zel let out a chuckle while Shadowheart just shook her head in disappointment.

„If you keep talking about Tav and me in terms of critters, I will gut you like one, wizard. And that goes for all of you“, Astarion hissed after he had leaned down to Gale who was trying to soak up the spilled beverage with some napkins.

„Please do, if you two keep insisting on being godsdamned lovebirds. You‘d be doing me a favour“, Gale replied. Astarion hissed again - but now with a dirty smirk on his face: „Well, if that‘s the case you‘re also happy to come over and watch next time, bastard.“ „You should clear that with Tav first, Astarion“, Shadowheart added dryly. The round chuckled again and now seemingly relaxed. Astarion still looked ready to spill innards but the tension in his shoulders had loosened a little.

„Yo, Tav“, Karlach shouted over to the elf after she had calmed down a bit from all the laughter „keep your guarddog in check, would ya?“ Then she laughed again. Tav just flipped her off across the room and started laughing as well.

Halsin meanwhile had finished his meal and made to get up. He walked over to Astarion and patted the vampire on the back who winced at first but relaxed quickly again. „Maybe keep it down a little next time, so we can all keep being friends, eh?“, the druid offered in a friendly manner and smiled at the vampire.

Astarion made to protest: „I‘m not your…“ But then he stopped while his gaze wandered over this unlikely party of adventurers and back to Tav as well and realised the druid was right: they were, all of them, his friends.

[forgeofthenine]

How do the bachelors react to insects and spiders? I mean sure, they'd probably be able to take them outside or just squash them, but ever since Farkas Skyrim, dude with the strength of a God said he's disgusted by and scared of spiders, I keep thinking about these sort of things. Like yes, they can kill them, but I feel like Rolan at the very least would make the crying cat meme face the entire time in disgust.

The bachelors (+Rugan) reacting to creepy crawlies

Dammon

Dammon never notices when spiders are hanging around, possibly because he has more than a few in his forge

Despite keeping it nice and clean and outside forge is still a perfect place for spiders to hang out

Should you need someone to take a spider outside for you, Dammon is your man

He just cups it in his hands, no thoughts as to if it's venomous

The type to tease you by holding out the spider and watching you try to get away from him

There is one type of bug that Dammon isn't keen on at all, though

Praying mantises

He can't explain why, but they creep him out

Maybe it's the head eating after copulation stuff, maybe it's the way they seem to look into your soul

Dammon squeals every time one touches him

Zevlor

This brave paladin is equally relaxed around insects for the most part

Bugs or beetles aren't enough to scare him, and he's always willing to help you

Zevlor is a true gentleman and is always available to remove any creepy crawlies that are bothering you

He likes using a cup and paper to trap them before moving them outside

He's also happy to tell the kids interesting things about some of the odd insects the refugees come across

The one bug he absolutely will not touch is a centipede

And a millipede, too

Nothing needs that many legs, in Zevlors mind

You can visibly see how he pales at the mere sight of the little pests

Sorry, you'll need to deal with them yourself

Rolan

Rolan hates bugs

Hates them with a passion

There is no way this man is carefully carrying a bug outside for you because his first reaction is to squish it

He makes a face every time he sees a spider and it's all scrunched up and funny

If you laugh at him Rolan will tell you to 'deal with the damned thing yourself'

He still relies on Cal or Lia to help remove spiders from Ramaziths Tower

The one bug he not only stands, but also quite likes, is the dragonfly

Rolan thinks they're both fascinating and quite beautiful, particularly those with jewel colours

He probably gets himself a dragonfly brooch at some point

Rugan

This man talks big game

He can take on anything, he's manly as hell

But, he disappears whenever you point out a spider

Big manly man Rugan HATES spiders

He doesn't particularly like other bugs but he can live with them

Spiders are the absolute worst, in his opinion

He's willing to fight an owlbear, weaponless, in a dark cave but removing a spider is just a step too far for him

If you end up doing it yourself he's quite blasé about it all, feigning disinterest in the whole situation

However, if both of you hate spiders then you're screwed, I'm sorry

Rugan just can't get past those eight, spindly legs and half a dozen eyes

[milkratz]

The ache in his chest was something he had gotten quite used to. What would be a dull throb in the mornings grew into a ravenous, burning monster as its hunger grew; Gale was often left out of breath, the feeling of something so terribly hungry crushing his heart and lungs, his mind panicking as he fought against the once unfamiliar sensation.

When the others glanced back at him, he'd give an embarrased little smile - It wasn't as though he was the most in shape amongst their friends. A year in a tower, plus a life of softness, led to quite a softer figure. But it wasn't as though he could say, "No, I'm not out of breath from casting a spell. It is the bomb in my chest that's trying to eat me."

Gale could see in Tav's eyes the little look of disappointment whenever they handed over a magical artifact. It didn't compare to the disappointment of Gale when the hunger barely abated as he devoured the essence of Weave in whatever shitty little artifact he pressed to his chest.

It was one of the nights, where not even the allure of a good book, something Tav had grabbed in their exploits and handed to him with a small smile, could distract him from the pain. It was unfair - He had devoured quite the artifact earlier that morning, and yet the orb in his chest demanded more.

He sat by the fire, pretending to read the book in his hands. The goblet of wine by his feet laid untouched, the taste of it overwhelming bitter. When he had swallowed but a sip, Gale could feel the anger of the Orb; How dare you consume something so impure! Vile! The ache in his chest had grew, cutting off his lungs and squeezing his heart, and he fought to carefully set down the cup, as to not alert the others.

Shadowheart and Lae'zel sat opposite of him, a heated arguement or another feuled by the Shadowheart's truly baffling intake of wine and Lae'zel's general... self. Wyll, Karlach, and Tav sat with the owlbear cub, who Tav had claimed the honor of simply naming Cubby, and Scratch, who was in a very heated game of fetch with Halsin, who looked half-interested in catching the ball himself.

Astarion... Gale frowned. He hadn't actually seen Astarion since the party returned to camp, victorious in their dungeon delving once more. He was often sat around Tav or even Shadowheart, indulging in the wine that he had once, bitterly, told Gale tasted like nothing more than rot and vinegar. But tonight, beneath the cloudless sky, Astarion was nowhere to be seen.

Gale tried not to let it concern him; It wasn't as though Astarion was known for his openness, but perhaps it was because of that, that his lack of presence made Gale feel iffy. Astarion had moved, just a bit slow enough to draw Gale's masterful eye towards him. He was of course aware of the situation between Tav and the resident vampire, but something in the dull eyes of Astarion made him think that the elf hadn't been taking as advantage of it as he should.

Gale pursed his lips, setting down his book. No matter. He'd take care of the issue. With the group progressively closer to the Underdark, which might be the safer choice in comparison to the Mountain Pass but still not safe, it was important that everyone was in tip-top shape.

No one paid him any mind as Gale shakingly got to his feet; The mouthful of wine he had all but spat out had no effect on him, but the others didn't need to know that his sway was caused by the piercing agony in his chest. A glance at Astarion's dark tent let him know he wasn't there, but Gale was not dismayed. He knew the vampire often forayed into the forest, perhaps in search of food or just to get away from the general rowdiness of the camp.

And in the forest indeed did Gale find him. Hunched over on his knees, Astarion made a rasping sound, apparently not having noticed Gale's tramping about - A whole new reason for concern, since the pain was such a ball of focus in the back of Gale's mind that he couldn't bother to keep his foot steps light even if he wished to.

Between Astarion's hands laid a rat, who despite it's limp posture, made a weak squeaking sound. Astarion stared at it, and Gale oculd see just the hint of wetness on his lips, glinting in the moonlight. Not red; Clear, just a hint of drool as Astarion stared down at the meal on the ground.

Gale cleared his throat, unable to take the stalemate any longer. Astarion's head snapped towards him and with a jolt, Gale could see a glimmer in Astarion's eyes, a dampness that made him feel weak in the knees and his heart throb painfully in something other than the crushing of his chest.

"Playing with your food, Astarion? Thought you were better than that." Gale kept his voice light, trying not to spare a glance at the rat. He wasn't a fan of them; God knows Tara, the damn beauty, hunted enough of the rats in his tower that he got used to seeing the rodents in all sorts of dismal states, but the pain in both Astarion and the rat's eyes made him feel some sort of way.

There was a scoff. Astarion sat back on his hunches, his dirtied hands resting on his thighs. The moonlight set his white hair aglow, his normally sallow skin having a hint of life under the radiance. It casted a light on the scars on Astarion's neck, which strained as the vampire seemed at war with himself. The rat seemed to take it as a queue to flee, and with a speed otherwise betrayed by it's pitiful state, streaked off into the night.

Gale frowned. "Didn't mean to scare off your meal." At the lack of sound, or acknowledgement really, from the elf, he stepped closer into the light.

Astarion opened his eyes slowly, staring up at him. If his eyes had been dull throughout the day, they were all but lifeless now. His breathing was labored and Gale realized why; Astarion was starving.

"You haven't been eating," Gale accused. "Why? Is Tav's blood not good enough for you? Are the scoundrels we kill not to your liking?" Gale didn't know why he was so angry; Perhaps it was seeing someone who was normally so haughty and high and mighty, on his knees in such a state of hunger he'd drool over a rat.

Astarion winced as though Gale's words hurt him. "I... I simply haven't found the opportunity, that's all. All the beasts in the forest seem to have realized there's a monster on the loose; It's getting harder to hunt more filling meals. And..."

The next words were so quiet Gale almost couldn't make them out.

"I don't want to go back to eating rats."

Gale pretended not to hear it; Astarion had not been open with the other members as he had been with Tav. Gale knew the quick and dirty details, of course. A spawn of a cruel vampire master, a slave. Forced to endure horrid torture and abuse for centuries. But Gale was arguably the least favored of the vampire, and he doubted that the other male would appreciate Gale asking him all the details of his horrid past.

"Has Tav not offered you their neck recently?" Gale asked, stepping just a bit closer. Astarion's gaze turned hard as he glared.

"You needn't make it sound like I'm just using darling Tav! Perhaps if you cared to know, they've been getting awfully close to Wyll and Karlach. I," Astarion mumbled, "Didn't want to overstep more than I have." His gaze turned moody and somber, his eyes turning downwards towards his dirtied hands. He twisted his palms up and Gale could see the scratches and blood; Undoubtedly from where he had struggled to catch a rat of all things, another sign of his weakness.

Gale pursed his lips. He knew, of course, that everyone had camp had their issues and it was unfair of them to treat Astarion with the level of distrust they had. Gale would be first to admit that the sight of Astarion's fangs had sent shivers up his spine when they first found out. But Astarion had been nothing but respectful, if annoying; Never bared his fangs at anyone undeserving.

An idea formed in his head, something he would later blame on the nonexistent wine in his system.

He sighed and stepped closer til he in front of the pale elf. Astarion stared up at him, curiosity and confusion warring with the distrust and perhaps fear in his eyes.

"Feast on me. I doubt my blood will taste like anything exquisite, given the current state of my being but, if you're so hesitant on drinking from Tav and there's no other sources of food," Gale said simply. He held out a hand to Astarion, who's lip curled at the sight. The elf refused his grasp and stumbled to his feet dazedly, his red eyes narrowed at Gale in offense.

"I do not need your pity, dear old wizard. Save it for someone who doesn't know you're a fool," Astarion's words cut bitterly to Gale, who was equally offended by the lack of flair to Astarion's words as he was the harshness. He really must be hungry in that case.

Gale scoffed. "Pity? Pity is much different from sympathy, friend. I know hunger too. You've been slow and weak recently. You tripped over a trap even I saw today and almost killed yourself and the rest of us. You're the fool if you think your hunger only affects yourself."

The tangent was perhaps a bit uncalled for, but Gale felt feisty tonight. Astarion shuffled on his feet a bit, his gaze defeated. Gale felt something in him, other than the actual orb of pure magic eating at him, stir at the sight. Gale sighed.

"Believe me, I doubt you'll enjoy this anymore than I will. Just, don't kill me? Because then you'll probably kill everyone here and that's just a hassle." Gale plopped down on the ground, his lungs grateful for the break. He could feel Astarion's gaze on him, but his eyes remained close. He, admittedly tauntedly, strained his head forward to reveal the length of his neck.

There was no warning as he felt twin fangs sink into his neck; He hadn't even heard Astarion move. There was a sharp pain, not unlike when he got his ears pierced, that quickly dulled to an ache. He could feel the wetness of Astarion's mouth on his neck, the pulsing as he sucked at the blood. Overall, despite the ache, the sensation wasn't entirely unpleasant. Gale let him drink until he felt his head grow heavy, and he reached up to tap at Astarion sluggishly.

There was a pause and Gale felt a tad bit of worry when Astarion didn't immediately unlatch. Then, he felt the fangs retract from his neck as Astarion sluggishly lapped at the twin pricks on his neck, cleaning the blood.

There was silence as Gale struggled to keep his head straight and Astarion, for the first time in days, had a light to his eyes.

"You're right. Your bloody tastes dastardly."

Gale let out an unbelieving laugh, surprise and the dizziness of blood loss coming together, making it seem like the whole situation was a lot funnier than it was.

It wasn't as funny when he felt Astarion grab the collar of his sleep shirt and yank him towards him. Gale didn't move as Astarion placed one, small, gentle kiss to the corner of his lip.

"I think I could grow to like it, though."

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Why do you make me feel this way? - Chapter 4: Gift

Astarion knew why everyone had fallen head over heels for Tav. She was sweet and caring, and he'd been a fool to believe that she'd fall for his shameless attempts of seduction.

Gale made goo-goo eyes at her and stumbled over his grandiose words whenever he talked to her.

Halsin looked at her like a cleric at a statue of their deity and told her the sweetest things in the most genuine way.

Karlach was just her joyful self and wrapped Tav into a hug anytime she could since her mechanical heart was stabilised.

Lae'zel showed her affection by making less biting comments and by stopping to look down on Tav.

Shadowheart teased Tav flirtatiously and told her repeatedly how much she values her support and trust.

Wyll acted like an old-fashioned gentleman and thought that shielding Tav from danger was the right way to win her heart.

And Astarion? Astarion had held a dagger against her throat when they'd first met, fed from her every night to be even strong enough to fight at her side, and still struggled with nightmares about Cazador.

Astarion was broken and nobody wanted broken things. Tav would never choose to be his lover, everyone else was much better suited, and Astarion knew it.

Wistfully, the vampire spawn observed how the human bard praised Gale's stew, cooed at Halsin's carved wooden duck, gave Karlach a quick but heartfelt smacking kiss on the cheek, complimented Lae'zel's weapon-sharpening technique, encouraged Shadowheart regarding Shar's trials, commented on Wyll's footwork as he went through his daily training routine, and petted Scratch and the owlbear cup. Astarion's heart ached. Now, Tav walked over to him. The vampire spawn put on a cheerful smile and lilted: "Hello, what can I do for you?"

"Actually, I think I can do something for you for once," Tav replied, looking sincere. "While wandering through the ruins of Shar's temple, I found a couple of interesting books."

"Mh, yes, darling. We all know you love collecting souvenirs."

"You got me there," she chuckled, "but this is for you."

Tav thrusted a dusty tome into his hands.

"The book's about dealing with trauma and pain. I've read the first couple of chapters to see if it could be helpful to you and I think it could be. There are detailed instructions on how to work through unpleasant memories and how to 'digest' them instead of shoving them into the far back of your mind to try to forget them. You should read it and try out the techniques."

Astarion blinked at her dumbly.

"You want me to read a self-help book to 'get over' the torture that I endured for two hundred years?"

"Uhm, if you put it that way, it sounds tactless," Tav muttered and averted her gaze.

Astarion felt like a jerk, thus, he spoke his next words more softly: "I understand that you're trying to help, so, thank you. I can use a new, stimulating bedtime reading."

His undead heart skipped a beat when Tav beamed at him.

"Good. That's good."

Her hand lingered on his forearm for a bit longer than necessary before she turned around with flushed cheek. Astarion watched the bard go, holding her gift close to his chest. He desperately wished for the book to work like magic.

"Hm, your presence makes her blush like a peach that turns pink in the sunlight," mused Halsin.

Astarion jumped when the druid suddenly stood behind him and could barely hold back a startled squeak. The wood elf chuckled amused.

"No need to be alarmed, Astarion. It wasn't my intention to sneak up on you."

"But you did," replied the addressed huffily.

Halsin chuckled again, a rich, warm rumble from deep in his broad chest. Astarion imagined how cosy Tav would look spread out on that hairy torso. Next to the druid, she almost seemed dainty. The polar opposite of how she looked next to Astarion. The latter found the thought of being picked up by her alluring though – and rather hot.

Halsin cleared his throat und Astarion realised his mind had drifted away while his eyes were still staring at the druid's chest. Why was the wood elf so much taller, broader, and bigger than him? Astarion pursed his lips, slightly peeved.

"I do feel flattered by your attention, but it's a bit unnerving that you're so quiet," Halsin told him. His tone was warm, his eyes soft, and his smile genuine.

"Apologies, I was in thoughts," Astarion replied, truthfully. "Now, excuse me, druid, I have a book to read."

When he made his way past Halsin, the latter murmured: "Tav likes you."

"Obviously. Everyone likes me," the vampire spawn spoke with a wink.

The other man sighed.

"That's not what I meant. She... She has a big heart and you take up a lot of space in it. Cherish such a gift, Astarion."

The vampire spawn gaped after Halsin who walked deeper into the temple ruins to collect flammable objects to fuel their campfire.

[hyydraworks]

All the BG3 content coming in tomorrow's Etsy update. Was not sure I'd get them done in time, but basically ecstatic with how they all came out. There's only one of each mug design, except for Owl Bear/Scratch of which I have two, one will be on sale due to it's shape.

[littlemourningstarr]

Worship

Shadowheart takes advantage of she and Karlach's solitude to finally worship her darling tiefling in the ways Karlach always seems to worship her.

Kinktober 2024, Day 1: "Eating out / pussy worship"

Read below or on AO3!

Pairing: Shadowheart x Karlach

Tags: Kinktober 2024, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, Shadowheart is very much in love

Shadowheart fought down a shiver at the sheer heat of Karlach’s hands, sliding along her sides. They were both sitting on Karlach’s bed above the Elfsong, for once enjoying the solitude of an empty room- aside of Scratch and the Owlbear, who were curled up in Shadowheart’s bed off on the other side of the room.

Privacy had been so hard to obtain, now that they were within the city walls. It almost made Shadowheart miss sleeping on the ground in her tent. At least then she had been able to wall away the rest of the world if she and Karlach wanted to indulge in each other.

One of Karlach’s hands moved from her side to cup her breast, thumb rubbing over one nipple. The bud hardened as Shadowheart gave a little moan into Karlach’s kiss, around the tiefling’s tongue.

Karlach gave a pleased little chuckle, squeezing Shadowheart’s breast as the half elf pushed herself into the palm of her hand. It would be so easy to lose herself in Karlach’s warm touch- the heat was enough to make her mind fuzzy, to have her stretch out on her back eagerly and let her lover lavish attention on every inch of her body. Karlach took the time to learn her every curve, how she reacted to each inch of skin being kissed. No one had ever done that before- short term amusements didn’t allow for the time it took to learn what a lover liked.

But Shadowheart falling into Karlach’s worship was always how their nights played out, and Shadowheart was determined for once to change the course of their night. Karlach deserved to have that attention given to her.

Instead of laying back when Karlach gently pushed her, Shadowheart reached up and grasped her firm biceps, rolling them over until Karlach was splayed on her back, the cleric laying atop her. The tiefling laughed, hands roaming down Shadowheart’s body, grasping at her bare ass. “What are you up to?” She asked, as Shadowheart dipped to kiss at her throat. She could see her engine glowing blue through Karlach’s skin beneath her.

“You always find a way to spend the entire night worshiping me,” she offered, sliding down Karlach’s body slightly, trailing kisses over scarred skin between her breasts. “I think it's time I did the same for you.”

She moved down Karlach’s stomach, felt muscle flexing beneath her lips. As she passed her navel Karlach’s hips canted slightly, giving Shadowheart the opportunity to reach between them, grasp at the firm muscle and push them open.

There was a glorious blue glow to Karlach’s cunt, that matched her infernal heart. It made Shadowheart think of some moonlight blessed gem- and gods, was she supposed to thank Selûne for the gift that was Karlach too?

“Shadowheart, you don't have to-” Karlach’s words broke off as Shadowheart exhaled along her cunt, breath cool compared to her forever warm skin.

“Hush,” she whispered, fingers tracing designs into Karlach’s thighs. “I want to.”

And gods did she. Not just because Karlach had showered her in lavish attention over their nights together- but because she swore there had never been a woman like Karlach. No one had ever made her blood feel so hot under her skin that she swore it was boiling.

No one had ever made her heart race so quickly it made her dizzy.

She nuzzled one of Karlach’s thighs, before she placed a gentle kiss to her cunt. The tiefling sighed, and Shadowheart lapped at her pussy slowly, savoring the warm, heady flavor of her skin, her arousal. She squeezed her own thighs together as she skimmed her hands higher up Karlach’s thighs, used her thumbs to part her lips and get a perfect look at her.

“Shadow-” Karlach started, her name falling away to the silence of the room as Shadowheart rolled her tongue over her clit. The tiefling bucked at the contact, and Shadowheart closed her lips over the bud, suckling gently.

Karlach tipped her head back, moaning with pure abandon. Her hands roamed along the bed, searching for purchase, as Shadowheart pulled back enough to simply flick her tongue over her clit, again and again and again. The taste of her alone was enough to make Shadowheart ache, from her chest to her cunt, her pussy weeping with sheer desire.

She swore she could feel it on her thighs.

She held her tongue beneath Karlach’s heavy clit, teasing, as one of the tiefling’s hands found her hair, twirling some of the spun silver blonde locks around her fingers. The rest was fanned along Shadowheart’s back, her shoulders, like moonlight. Karlach didn’t tug, didn’t try to guide her- she simply rubbed at the silken strands as if she needed to find a way to worship some part of Shadowheart.

It made the woman’s chest go tight, the sheer affection this glorious warstorm of a woman had for her. Gods, Shadowheart would have lit the world afire if Karlach so much as asked.

She deserved that much.

She closed her mouth back around her clit, tongue working over it in heavy, steady movements- the kind that had Karlach’s breath catching, her hips beginning to twitch, wanting to push harder to Shadowheart’s mouth.

When she came, it was with the sort of relieved groan that rattled her very bones. She still didn’t tug at Shadowheart’s hair, simply held onto it, as the cleric eased her through the orgasm, until the woman below her was liquid like, molten iron and nothing more.

She dipped her tongue down past her lips, pushed it into her- got a sudden breathy gasp from Karlach, as she took a proper taste of her bliss. Her cunt clenched up, aching to have Karlach’s fingers buried in her, but still she ignored it- tongue fucked her darling tiefling until Karlach was lifting a leg, digging a heel into the center of Shadowheart’s back.

“Darling,” she managed, as Shadowheart finally lifted her head, her lips and chin glistening. Her only response was to suck at her clit again, a hand finally leaving a thigh to ease two fingers into Karlach’s hellishly warm cunt. The tiefling arched, the bed creaking below her, the groan that left her earth shattering.

Gods, would the tavern below hear them? Would all the patrons deep in their cups hear the way Shadowheart planned to pull Karlach apart, until the moon had crested high and their solitude was finally taken from them?

She almost hoped so. Let the world know this woman was hers, and by Selûne’s grace, she would ensure Karlach was treasured like she had never been, until they were both nothing but bone dust buried in the dirt.

[alpydk]

Disgusting, tainted, used.

The challenge of combining smut, angst and romance failed. Not just failed but drove itself so deeply into angst territory that it's more hurt. There is comfort after the pain. So much pain.

Word Count - 3330 words - CW - NON CON / GOD!GALE / PANIC ATTACKS / PTSD - You have been warned!

Ao3 Link

Vulnerable. That’s the single feeling that enters your mind when you think of that last night with him. When static energy prickled at your bare skin, when your mind, body, and soul were invaded by an act of bonding that he called love. It has been six months since that night at the party along the riverbanks, the night of laughing and smiling and…

You struggle to think back to it; you don’t want to think back to it and yet you know to move forward you must face it all. Six months you have struggled to leave your home since it happened, the fear keeping you housebound. But you’re not going mad, you’re not panicking. You’d just rather stay indoors, you tell yourself. Your heart thumping strongly, the lump in your throat as you step foot outside; they’re all physical issues caused by the environment. None of it is in your head, you’ve told yourself, because you’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate. Nothing scares you, especially not him.

You find comfort under the heavy woollen blanket as you pull it around your shoulders, as your legs are pulled into your chest and you gaze at the fireplace, hoping for your mind to empty itself, hoping it won’t drift back to…

The campsite. The fire burned so brightly that night, logs piled high, the flames dancing in tandem with Wyll and Karlach. Wine had wetted your lips; good food had been shared. Even Astarion had revelled in the pleasantries, his finest suit’s embroidery twinkling under the hanging lights. Minsc had brought Boo, ever cute and cuddly, and together they’d spent several hours bickering with Jaheira in the only way old friends could. You’d sat for some time as Lae’zel explained the recent adventures she was a part of, of dragon riding and the freedoms that came with flight. How you wished you could join her. Sitting with Shadowheart, you’d caught up on her home life, of how she was making fresh memories with the woodland creatures, the owlbear and Scratch among her new ‘herd’. Living alone suited her. She was independent, stronger than she had ever been under the goddess Shar. You were happy for her. Withers had toasted the entire party, the saviours from the Absolute. Glasses were held high, faces reddened with intoxication; the alcohol or positive mood, you weren’t sure.

The night had continued without incident, is what you tried to tell yourself as the fire burnt in front of you, as tinder turned to ash, as dream became nightmare. There was nobody else at the party that night, especially not him.

You clench your eyes shut, trying to prevent it all from coming back; the familiar need to move your hands, invading your body unwillingly. You count back from ten, run your fingers through your hair, once, twice. Your mouth feels dry, but you struggle to swallow the water from the cup nearby. Find five things that are red. The pendant… four… The boots… three… The book… two… The embers… The embers…

He stood there in front of you, the banks of the river reflecting the shimmer of his pale blue skin. He seemed bigger than before, as if his ego itself had become physical. His once purple robes that smelt of sandalwood had been replaced with a loose blue cloth that barely covered his body. For someone who once wouldn’t undress in front of his tressym, he seemed rather scantily clad. And yet it was not his garb that drew your sight, or the orb that glowed more viciously than ever; it was his eyes that stared at you so coldly. Gone was the warmth you knew and loved, the humanity he had promised you as you floated through astral seas. Gone was Gale Dekarios. Now there was only him…

You clutch at the arm of the chair, willing the thoughts away. The fire has thankfully died out and now only darkness and silence lie heavily in the room with you. You know there will be no sanctuary in sleep, your drunken attempts in the past only bringing you back to that one night.

He touched your arm; the goosebumps rising as the current of his power ran beneath your skin. He felt cold.

You watch the shadows on the wall, moonlight casting your darkened silhouette commanding over you. It’s not him, it’s just a shadow, it’s not him. You repeat it, almost as a mantra, and not for the first time in the last six months.

He towered over you. Before had involved slight tiptoes to reach his lips; now were firm hands grasping at your hips, pulling you closer. He’d never been this strong before and you ignored the creeping feeling running up the back of your neck that something was terribly wrong.

Standing in the bathroom, you hear the running water of the tap drowning out the sound of laughter from outside your window. You wish it was louder; you wish you didn’t hear him in your mind.

He laughed as you tried to tug yourself away. His words were the same as they ever were. He said he loved you and he was willing to let you join him. He’d eventually grant you power as well, but only once you were ready. You’d declined and again he’d wanted to show you what he could offer, but no longer as conjured stars and warm hands. Now it would be what you had turned down so many moons before, the bonding as gods do. Your struggle had been met with a cruel snigger, a condescension at how weak mortals were in comparison to what he could give you. Whether you agreed or not, he would show you godhood.

Your home feels like a prison, but you know outside his eyes will be on you. After that night he had not visited and yet you had felt his gaze, his clutches still holding your wrists and throat bound. Now the feeling had spread, the realisation coming that a god could see you no matter where you hid.

You’d felt your mind tear from your body as he gripped your skin with force, his whisperings in your ear closer to a hiss than the soft breathy gasps that used to drive you wild. The darkened locks of his hair turned to starlight in front of you, your own body an illusion of pinprick lights in the night sky. Hands drifted over your body… so many hands.

You wish you weren’t alone at this moment as you feel your stomach turn, the shame and disgust washing over you. You’d bathed so much since that night, scrubbed your hands until they cracked and bled under the heat of the water, but it was never enough because it wasn’t your just body he had taken but also your mind. Although your skin had healed, and the scars faded to a lighter shade, inside the storm still raged. The winds blew up the foundations of your soul, leaving you with nothing to cling on to but the fickle coping mechanisms you told yourself would save you. Cold water on your face, ground yourself. This too shall pass.

There was no ground; there was only the weightless suspension, his body weaving around yours, crackling like the lightning that had bled from his fingertips so many times before. You retreated into yourself; it was futile to fight a god, especially on his own terms. Incorporeal limbs pressed against, into your own body. Controlling whispers brushed past your ears. Loveless kisses grazed your neck and if you’d been in your own skin, you knew you would have shed the tears with the emotions you so desperately hid from him.

Those salted tears now cover your cheeks as you struggle to breathe on the bathroom floor, the panic overtaking you; the memory reaching its peak as it had so many times before. Six months and it had never got easier, each time continuing in the same way, leaving you weak and exhausted. Your friends had visited you since that day, but you’d told none of what had happened. Only that Gale was gone, and you were coping the best you could.

Lifeless eyes had watched you as your body had given instinctively, a grim pleasure curled on ambitious lips, his hands continuing their macabre dance across your flesh. He’d been everywhere, over you, inside you. Penetrated to depths you’d kept hidden from everyone. This was his love…

You don’t hear the door open, or the footsteps that cross the wooden floor towards the little corner you’ve huddled yourself into. The deep voice that assures you everything is okay goes unheard, and the hand that wipes away your tears is unnoticed. You feel the arms, though, that cradle you protectively, a firm blanket that presses your tensed muscles down to calm. He smells of oak and earth. You are brought from the terrors that plague you to reality, new confines now holding you down. You struggle against him, the panic no longer an unchosen option to freeze but to fight back, and you swing your arm around only for it to be gripped tightly and held around you. The arms still bind but not as the god’s had done so all those months ago; these arms are to protect you, to console you as the sobs burst from your chest and the buried depths of your pain burst through the fragile dams.

Waking on the shores alone, your body covered in a thick blanket, the morning sun burning your eyes, you tried to piece together what had happened. You leant up against a large rock, your head pounding, and you spotted the sturdy figure a few meters away watching you. Halsin had not appeared for the evening party, but now he sat looking after you, always reliable in the background. He approached, but you waved him away, not needing his help. You didn’t need anyone’s help, especially not from the one you had turned down over the promise of a relationship with someone now lost. You’d made your bed, and now you had lain in its ethereal sheets.

As your shuddering body relaxes, so does the surrounding embrace. With his hazel eyes filled with care, you dare not raise your head, fully aware of the guilt that will consume you. You do not want Halsin’s concern or his love. You deserve neither after the choice you made.

Walking the shores gave you time to recollect all that had happened, the itch under your skin building, the need to be free of the stained clothes that clung too tightly to your skin. The bile built up in your throat and part of you swore it was just the wine. But you knew deep down that it wasn’t… You smelt the soil and reeds of the riverbank as you lowered your head to cough up the disgusting concoction. There wasn’t enough to bring up to remove the feeling that lingered in your body. You were…are disgusting, tainted, used.

He talks to you, his voice as calming as it always was. It always surprises you how a man of his stature could be so gentle, but with each word he speaks, you feel guilt. Why did you turn him down? Why hadn’t you seen him as the better option? He wants to know what has happened, why nobody has heard from you for so long, why you lie on your bathroom floor like a mistreated animal. And then it hits him, and he raises a hand tentatively. He wants to hold you, to make it all better again, to save you from the same torment he suffered through in his youth. But right now, touch is not what you want, and he knows this.

For some time you sit, afraid to speak the words as if saying them would make them all true, that this wasn’t some sickening nightmare that your mind conjured up during waking hours. Still, he stays with you, a cool glass of water poured, everything on your terms to give you the little control you lost so long ago.

---

He’d found you in the soft mud of the riverbank, your shirt pulled open, your hair damp and covering your face. He’d avoided the party for fear of seeing you. Though he’d been open to your relationship with Gale, he’d still taken the rejection hard, his heart stirring for you too easily. Though time had passed, the hurt had not diminished, and he had always secretly hoped that you would have chosen him. He understood why you’d done what you did, though; how you’d been loyal to Gale to the end. He respected your choice, and yet he’d stayed away.

As he saw you, guilt ate away at him. Had it been drunken escapades that had resulted in the condition you’d ended up in? He could smell Gale’s scent on you and stories from Sylvanus of a change in the balance of power emerged in his mind, causing him to suspect what had happened. That you’d met with the new god of ambition and made another painful choice. He didn’t think it could be anything other than an attempt to drown your sorrows. He brushed the hair from your face and lay you on your side, a warm blanket protecting you from the cold elements of the autumn morning.

Upon seeing the way you hold yourself, the deep sobs that extend far beyond grief, and the fear in your eyes when he is around, he instantly understands. He knows it wasn’t just loss that you experienced that night. He suspects something more was done to you, and he hates himself for not being there to protect you. You say nothing, but he knows by the way you move what has happened, the barrier you put up with your arms and legs, the way you never look him in the eyes for fear he sees how broken you are underneath. He pours water as a gesture of kindness. He would never hurt you.

---

Weeks pass and each day Halsin visits to check up on you. You’ve still not said anything about how he found you that night or the morning those months ago, but he watches you and waits until you are ready. He brings you flowers from the forest, a little colour for the dimly lit room you call your home, always in oranges and pinks and never the blues and purples you’d once loved. You try to express gratitude to him in the manner you think he desires. Trying to establish control, you use your body, and each time, he refuses you. Kind rejections are met with an uncertain anger and a hidden gratitude. He is there as a friend, supportive and helpful, trying his best to care for you, just as he has so many others.

The flowers become stories of his community, of those hurt during the attacks. You listen to the kindness in his voice, frozen shards of your heart slowly melting as lost memories resurface. He tells a joke about how his bear form caused problems and you hear your laughter. It catches you off guard as the sound reaches your ears. It’s been so long since you sat without worry, but a doubt creeps in that your actions may have been seen. Again, you retreat into yourself. A cruel part of you wishes Gale had died at the Netherbrain, that you hadn’t convinced him to live and guilt washes over you, along with a fear that maybe the driven god could read your thoughts.

You’d walked home along after that night, the memories slowly coming back, and you’d stumbled through the door before washing your body. Had it been minutes or hours you’d try to get the dirt off your skin, you didn’t know, all you knew was that you were filthy. For the next few days, you stayed in bed, your mind trying to process all that had happened. Something told you that you should seek help, but who would believe your story? The only one who could have related was now gone. Not only that, but he had become what he’d tried to escape. The Lady of Magic had created the broken Gale Dekarios, and he’d completed the cycle, becoming the God of Ambition. You wondered where your path would lead you now. Would you too go on to hurt another innocent soul?

Halsin places his hand on yours, and you feel your heart rate slow again. He watches you as you sigh and speak, as your eyes moisten, and your story emerges for the first time. You choke through the emotions, and he never interrupts, never tells you to be calm, never offers advice or his own stories. He simply listens and lets you unleash everything that you’ve locked away tightly for so long. You face the nightmare head on; every excruciating detail is laid out bare in front of you just as your body had been done so for godly demands. Each word he hears, each feeling you try to process, he understands. He sits by as your fear blends with anger and guilt and disgust, as your voice rises from a whisper to a shout, as you pace the room or sit still as a statue. He is there as he had been so long ago, always reliable in the background and for the first time since that night where astral hands had controlled your flesh, you let someone hold you close. Moistened tears dampen his armour, but he says nothing; there is only the soft stroking of your hair and the deep thumping of his heartbeat in your ears.

---

Almost a year has passed since you told your story. Your healing has not been as instantaneous as you had hoped it to be, but it has happened slowly and steadily. Joining Halsin’s community has been the biggest change; the city is no longer a safe space for you. The calm tranquillity of the forest has been your lifeline, the growth of trees and flowers proving to you that strength can be found in the smallest of things. You have seen the strongest of gales flatten the mightiest of oaks only for the smaller saplings to rise in its place and you rise now, little by little, your roots spreading into the earth. Maybe not now, but one day, you too will be the towering oak protecting the weak. 

The riverbank sits not far from your location. You can smell the earthy tones on the breeze, hear the trickling of the water against the stones that wash up on the shore. One more step forward; you know you can do this. As your boots leave footprints in the dirt, the memories return to you, but you hope your own footprints of thought will also be washed away with the river’s gentle flow. You know you can do this, though; you repeat to yourself internally, just another step forward. As you near the banks, your heart rate pounds with intensity and for a second you consider turning back, but you cannot hide any longer. Caught in a cycle of its own, the river travels on ever forward, with the reflection of the sunlight glistening on its surface. The river becomes the sea becomes the rain. The storms bring death to create new life. Hurt begets more hurt. You know you will not continue the cycle you were forced on to. As the water laps at your boots, you break your chains and look to the clear blue skies with newfound strength.

You will not fear the God of Ambition any longer, will not let him control you or use you. His strive for power means he will waste little time on someone like you. You are no longer his prisoner or plaything. You are alive and you are free.

[smolgloves]

A Lesson in Nature

Summary: Freya gets in touch with nature with the help of a beefy druid

Tw: mentions of animal abuse and a vore mention I guess?

“I said stay back!” Freya fired a pebble towards the large owlbear cub, causing it to jump back. Yet he still kept his hungry gaze on her, along with Scratch who wagged his tail. Freya cursed herself for deciding to stay away from the camp while that party was going on, the idea of being around all those drunken tieflings and druids while they celebrate victory over the goblin camp made her uneasy, so she opted to sitting just outside of camp despite Tav's reluctance. It seemed more peaceful than being stuffed in someone's tent but Freya didn't think about the wandering beasts that took interest in her. Gods, she took on redcaps, but can't seem to thwart off two stray animals?

Thick fingers quickly wrapped around the borrower, pulling her away from the beasts. The trip may have been disorienting, but Freya was grateful to be manhandled for once. Wanting to properly thank her savior, Freya sat up from the rugged hands that cupped her to meet their gaze. Words immediately fell short when she met the eyes of that older elf they saved from the goblins. She knew very little about him, other than his name was Halsin and he was supposed to be the druid that could have healed everyone of the illithid parasite, but that plan fell through. From what she heard, he had a lead and would be traveling with them. Which is why they were briefly introduced earlier, however Freya fucked up the first impressions by blurting out: “I've never seen an elf so large before!” He seemed to take it well, but after that, Freya avoided him.

“Pardon me for grabbing you without your permission first, but it seemed you needed a hand.” He spoke in a soft tone.

“I… uh, yes.” She stammered out. “Th-thank you.”

“You're Freya, right?”

She gave him a nod.

His lips curled in a soft smile. “I'm surprised to see you further away from the camp, from what I heard, you would have enjoyed this kind of evening.”

Freya raised an eyebrow, someone was tipping off the newest member of her drinking habits and she wasn't fond of that. She'll have to get to the bottom of that later. “I'd rather keep my distance from the gaggle of drunk giants stumbling about tonight.”

That got a chuckle out of Halsin. “I can't say I blame you, some have gotten rather rowdy during this night of celebration.” He glanced over to the owlbear cub to give him a pat on the head. “I'd say your company thought the same.”

“Well I'd prefer it if they wandered back!” She folded her arms across her chest, her eyes peered over the edge of his hand and glared at the beasts. “I warned Tav about the cub.”

The druid only smiled as he scratched the cub's ears, soft chirps rumbled out its beak. For a moment, Freya could say the beast looked cute, but she knew the dangers these animals posed to borrowers. She was not going to let her guard down while these two lurked around camp. “You have every right to be wary of such creatures, they can be quite fierce, especially to borrowers.”

“Glad we're in agreement.”

“But perhaps I could help you connect with nature despite your trepidation.” His eyebrow raised in anticipation.

Pursing her lips, Freya glanced from Halsin to the animals. They were rather docile now that he was nearby. “If you weren't a druid, I'd say no without a second thought.”

His hearty chuckle rumbled through the borrower. “Then I am glad the Oak Father has blessed me enough to help you.”

Adjusting his hold on her, Halsin lowered his hand closer to the ground. The curious eyes of the beasts met Freya's and she felt her skin crawl. Scratch took a step closer, sniffing the edge of Halsin's hand, deep inhales sending small gusts of wind to blow around her blonde locks. Despite how tense she was, Scratch pressed forward, letting his wet nose press into the side of her face, instantly reminding her of how they first met.

“Nope!” Freya squealed out, flailing back in haste attempts to escape; Halsin quickly pulled her away before she could accidentally kick Scratch. “I'm not doing this anymore!”

“I feel I should have prepared you better for how dogs typically try to get to know someone.” His free hand reached out where Scratch took a few hefty sniffs before giving a slobbery lick that made Freya shutter. “Dogs typically sniff as a way of greeting.”

“Can't you tell him to greet some other way?”

His smile softened at the borrower's frustration. “Perhaps, but that would be going against his very nature. I can tell how much he wants to get to know you, maybe you could initiate a greeting and he'll follow your lead?”

Freya took a moment to stare at Scratch, his tail swayed as he waited for her lead. She had seen many dogs in her life, yet few stood as patiently as he did for a borrower. She hesitantly reached forward as far as her arms could reach. It seemed that Scratch understood the gesture as he inched closer, a little more cautiously this time. His nose brushed up against her palm, leaving Freya frozen as he took short yet quick sniffs of her. A smile crept up on her lips, perhaps if she weren't a borrower, Freya would have been a dog lover. Those sweet eyes just begged for pets from the tiny woman and Freya couldn't say no. She leaned a little closer and scratched the top of his nose, feeling the scruffy white fur.

“See?” Halsin's voice beamed with joy from overhead. “Not so terrifying now.”

“I think I get why so many large ones keep them as pets.” Pride swelled up in Freya, how many borrowers could say they learned animal handling from a druid? Her eyes drifted towards the owlbear cub. While bigger than Scratch, he looked more timid. “Let me try with him now!”

Halsin shared in Freya's eagerness, and leveled her to the owlbear. His eyes widened at the sight of her. With a smile, Freya leaned in to pet his beak, but when she got close, the cub thrusted forward to peck her. Like with Scratch, Freya scrambled back as Halsin pulled her away; only this time, she did accidentally kick the owlbear's beak. He let out a shriek and turned away, scampering off into the night.

“Oh no, I didn't mean to do that.”

“It's alright.” Halsin said in a soothing voice. “Being captured by goblins has left the cub more cautious of others. It will take time for him to come around.”

“I suppose you two have more in common than I.” Freya pointed out.

“True.” Halsin lifted Freya up to eye level with her. “Perhaps another day, he will come around to you as well.”

His proud smile was reminiscent of how Freya's father looked at her when he was teaching her how to be a proper borrower. It had been so long since she had that look shot at her, she almost forgot the swelling joy she got from it. “I'd be happy to try again… so long as you're around.” She let out a chuckle. “I don't want to get eaten by the cub, or any other stray Tav picks up.”

Halsin's breathy laugh cut through the air, filling Freya with an ease she didn't think she could have around this mountain of a man. “I would be more than happy to aid you on your animal handling skills in the near future.”