#shadowheart and reader

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Us against the world

❤️ Pairing(s): Gale x Tav/ Reader; Tav & Shadowheart, Tav & Astarion

🧡 Rating/ Warnings: Teen up (implications of consensual sexual activities between adults in an established relationship and implied masturbation)

💛 Words: 5.388

💚 Summary: What goes on in Tav’s mind at the shore of the morphic brine pool before they pass the point of no return and get on board of the rowing boat? They reflect their relationship with their companions, the people they love the most in this world, the people with whom they will stand shoulder to shoulder for the last chapter, their last battle on their journey. They reflect on their love and devotion to them and gather the strength to make that one final step into the boat.

✨ Some musings I wrote before I played the finale and stood at that exact point and was beyond terrified. These are ethically and authentically sourced feelings I spent a day to write down while they were still fresh. Based on my game experiences and relationships to the characters but kept generic enough to be read by anyone.

POV: First Person, Unnamed Tav (no pronouns); color green is associated with them and it is implied that they are a druid

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Us against the world

“Well, I guess this is it”, I say and turn to my companions who stand next to me on the small landing stage of the shore of the morphic pool with tight, serious faces. But their eyes must be mirroring mine, deep with unspeakable emotions in them.

What should one feel when directly faced with an enemy like an elder brain with the power of a god?

This, this is absolute!

The fight of our lives, the last fight, the fight that is our reward for surviving until now. The fight that always waited for us at the end.

But maybe we could turn the tides, avert a fate worse than death for the world and for us.

Using the Netherstones to dominate the brain and finish this before it can become even worse.

None of us is hiding the dread that fills our souls considering the gravity of such a prospect.

And why should we hide our turmoils here at the end of all things in the company of the only ones who understand, why should we hide how our souls fared when we have the company of those we trust with our lives and deaths?

Why should we hide what we feel before the people who are insane enough to even consider slaying such a foe with us when we already came so far together and slew other foes deemed impossible to conquer?

I am afraid, terrified, and so are my travel companions, the people I love the most in this world and with whom I already survived the oddest of odds.

But there is more, I see it in their eyes, there is the determination of someone with everything to loose and yet willing to finally get it on with.

To end this. Once and for all.

And I see the love I have for them in their eyes for me.

We are not afraid to fight for our souls and those of the world, we have done that before, on a smaller scale, but still, we have done this before – no, we are afraid to loose each other. That we have to say goodbye today, that there will be no tomorrow, not for us, not for the world.

“When we get into this boat this will be it, no turning back”, I say, soul heavy with everything as I look at each of my companion’s faces.

I want to look at them for as long as I can, before this game will end, one way or another.

There is Astarion, his eyes are soft for a moment as he looks back at me and the shadow of a warm smile dances over his face. The smile he graces me with since we killed Cazador together, since he calls me friend and means it.

“There is nothing for us to do in the city anymore but to save it, apparently”, he says and looks at me expectantly and takes a step towards the boat.

“Ready when you are, my friend!”

I try to smile back at him but my face feels stiff and tight.

But he understands and he bows his head lightly, so lightly you could overlook it, but it is there.

It says everything he does not say out loud and neither do I. But we both know.

It says ‘we came all this way together, we fought and ate and slept and lived at each other’s side, what fools would we be to not trust each other unconditionally?’ It says ‘We are one hell of a team, do not mess with us! If anyone can take on an impossible fight and win it, it’s us! We have fought gods before and won, godsdamit!’

And ultimately it says ‘I am grateful for you in my life and it is my honour, my privilege and my duty to fight and to hopefully not die at your side. And should I end up dying can I trust you wholeheartedly that you will bring me back like you have done before on this dreary journey. And you can trust me with your whole heart to do the same for you if your overly eager and little insane lover is not faster than me!’

And it is a mutual feeling.

I was very wary of him at first, his smile too perfect, too sharp and nature repulsed from him. I felt in the way that the wind in the trees whispered of danger around him, I saw it when small animals fled from him through the undergrowth wherever he walked.

But he was determined to find a cure for our condition and he was willing to do whatever was necessary and to help however he could.

So I kept him in my company. I needed him as he needed me.

He was all alone in the world and he needed friends, or at least friendly company he did not had to seduce or compel to like him. He needed companions, people who helped him carry his load on the road.

He began to drop his facade when he revealed his true nature to me, which explained why I had always felt like prey and had sensed death all around him, and opened up to me even more about his past and the abuse he suffered by Cazador’s hands in the times to follow.

Also, Astarion is the best lock picker I ever met and a true trap whisperer, no mechanism, no matter how clever, could escape his skilled fingers.

I decided back then that I would never touch a trap disarm kit again, not if I had Astarion on my side.

But a part of me had never believed that we could become true friends, that we would fully trust each other…

This changed some day in the shadow cursed lands when he asked me if I would be at his side, when we would make it eventually to Baldur’s Gate, to help him kill Cazador and I had agreed without a second thought and as I had seen his face of sincere gratefulness and relief I stood there corrected.

Without me or him realising, through every battle, each healing spell and help, each joke and patched up wound at the fire in the evenings and every hour on the road we spent together were we growing closer. So close that we ended up trusting each other with our lives, without doubt and without condition.

I knew he had my back like I would look after him!

Our alliance that had grown out of necessity and availability the day when the nautiloid had crashed had bloomed into a deep bond of reliability and trust.

Of course I trusted him, of course I cared for him, how could I not?

Surviving a mindflayer tadpole infection, slaying a whole camp of Goblins, travelling through the Underdark, surviving and breaking the shadow curse and fighting gods and devils does that to you.

So if this was it, the end of our tedious journey, the last day on this very last road and whatever awaited us there at it’s end, did I not want to face it with anyone but Astarion and his exploding acid arrows by my side.

“We have the Netherstones, let’s bring the Absolute to it’s knees!”, says Shadowheart, her voice is strong and determined, always the fighter and it slightly echoes around us in the cave.

“I am with you!”, she promises and I turn from Astarion to look at her for a moment, for as long as I can.

Taking her in, the faint scar on her cheek, her silver hair illuminated by the glow of her Moonlight glaive with the parted, stylishly disheveled bangs, her dark, smokey eyes that bring out the green in them that now look at me with heaviness behind her determination of the gravity of what we will have to do, a vulnerability she allows me to see.

She was the first person I found after the nautiloid’s crash that did not want to kill me.

And I was hers, I was ‘the first friendly face’ she saw.

And together we found Astarion (who did try to kill me), fought some brain devourers together and she was with me when I saved Gale from the malfunctioning portal.

She was with me at every step of the way, we fought Goblins together, rescued Halsin, we traversed through the Underdark and explored the Grymforge together. We fought cultists and True Souls and we survived the shadow cursed lands together.

And ultimately she did Shar’s trials deep in the heart of the Gauntlet that led her, us, into the depths of the Shadowfell only to surrender her life’s dream there and what she thought to be her life’s calling to free Dame Aylin from her chains instead and to become something, someone, new.

She became Shadowheart who lets light grow out of darkness. Shadowheart, the blessed shadow of the moon.

Shadowheart, the first friendly face when all of this began, Shadowheart who became so much more than a partner for the roads to me, Shadowheart my companion and friend. My Shadowheart!

We look at each other for a moment in silent understanding, we will do this together! Like we have done everything together so far.

She at my side and I am at hers.

She takes a step closer to the boat and looks at me, patiently waiting for my sign to continue.

“It is time, my love”, whispers Gale and steps closer to me, I close my eyes for a moment, who knows if I will ever hear him call me his love again.

I don’t want to look at him, I don’t want to see the encouragement in his eyes that can seduce me to do anything, not if that encouragement means today that it would lead us to a place where we will have to say goodbye, maybe for forever.

His head moves next to me, he gently rests his forehead against my temple and I feel his breath on my cheek.

It is comforting and warm and I melt into the closeness of his body but I wish I would feel his gentle hands on my hips and lower back more than just the shadow of his touch through the layers of leather and metal of my armor.

I reach for his hand on my hip and I sigh, I can not even feel this because we are both wearing gloves.

But our fingers lace immediately together, holding tight and never wanting to separate again.

“Let us go on, my love, today is not worse than any other day for the grand finale of our endeavour”, he murmurs against my face but I am still only focusing on his skin on my mine, on his mouth so close, how I can sometimes feel his beard against my cheek when he moves.

It is all I ever wanted, since I pulled him out of the portal. Him close and all around me.

His breath mixing with mine, bodies intertwined, unable to say where I end and he begins.

One forever.

His forever.

“Waiting another day will not change anything for us. Besides going insane from uncertainty of what will come. We are as ready as we can be, or as unprepared, however you want to see it, but with the Netherstones in our possession we stand a chance. However small it may be. But even a small probability of success can grant hope — so let us face this nightmare today and let there be hope that a new dawn awaits us at the other side tomorrow…”

I breathe in, trying to clear my head but the Undercity’s air is thick and unpleasantly hot from the stinking sewers, the temple of Bhaal with all of it’s decay and death and the morphic brine pool infused with magic on which’s shore we stand.

But there is also Gale and his scent and I focus on him, concentrate on the scent in his hair and beard that smells like orange blossoms and spiced plum that comes from an oil he uses for it. And there is what I like to call the ever-lingering scent of knowledge that surrounds him always, even when I am the one wearing his comfortable purple velvet tunic with the silver ornaments that always smells like a library.

He is still surrounded by the sweet and yet tangy scent of wisdom and his nearly infinite arcane mastery through knowledge.

But his scent of knowledge is even more than all of that, it is dusty ink, written and printed by hands long gone but their words, their thoughts, their insights live on, it is the smell of his books, some old, some new, some have been wet before and have dried again over a small tenday. It is the fresh ink on his fingers, purple and black and blue and now only green. For me.

“Not that I need any help to think of you, not that I need anything to remind me of you, when everything reminds me of you, but writing in green ink brings me joy, the joy that you fill my life with!”, he had told me one day when I had noticed that he had stocked up on green ink from a shop when we had just arrived in Rivington.

“I don’t think I will ever write in any other colour ever again…”, he had finished matter of factly and at the same time had his face been adorned with the most sincere smile and the brightest eyes that had shone with his love for me.

His love that I wanted to swim, dive and bask in for the rest of my life.

The look on his face, the love for me could have been be overwhelming but it was not. Because it was Gale. My Gale!

Because I looked at him in the same way.

Because I knew that he was unable to lie, I felt his truth and his truth was that he loved me as I loved him.

There was no uncertainty, just our devotion.

So I had smiled, had grinned in unmeasurable happiness and had kissed him. Pushing him backwards onto one of the straw bales in the barn that we slept on and his surprise had only lasted for the span of a heartbeat.

After his surprise had faded he pulled me even closer towards him by the hips and our kiss slowly became more heated than I had originally planned it to be. But I was not complaining, on the contrary, not when I could not hold back a moan as his eloquent tongue, so clever and practised, slipped past mine, not when he was so close to me and wonderful and warm and how he bucked his hips against mine.

Not when my hips moved on their own accord as well to meet his, not when his tongue and mouth slid down my neck to gently suck and lap, not when his beard burned so deliciously in contrast to his, smooth, wet tongue on my skin.

This is were I was happiest, surrounded by his scent, by Gale, by his warmth and love and he knew that. He knows what he does when he comes so close to me now as we stand here at what could most likely be the beginning of the end of the world.

So I keep my eyes closed, just for a second longer to pretend that it was only Gale who surrounded me, that we were home, or well, at the camp that was the closest we had to a home currently, and that we were travelling and exploring like we had for so long now that I could barely remember my life before this. My life before Gale.

But truth is that our time is running out, no matter if I keep my eyes closed to pretend that it would not.

And I was loosing precious moments that I could be looking at him.

So I open my eyes again and turn towards him, his lips and beard brush over my cheek as I do so, and I take a step back, enough to take him in fully but not so much that I would loose his embrace around me.

He looks at me, his eyes shine warm and bright and I know he smiles just for me. I know he tries to make things easier for me.

I look at him and I see the day I met him, the day I pulled him out of the portal, how he had called me friend, had shook my hand and I had not wanted to let go of his hand.

How he had smiled and had offered to join my quest.

‘A parasite shared is a parasite halved’ he had joked, his eyes had sparkled and I had only one thought: ‘I will never want to be without you again!’

Back then I thought it was only his optimism, his cheerfulness and hopefulness, that he was so different to Astarion and Shadowheart, who were both still their reserved, closed up, snarky selves, that drew me towards him, like a moth towards the light. That I needed one face, that was willing to smile sincerely at me and that was not dripping with charm that did not reach the eyes like Astarion’s did.

But it had always been more.

I looked at him and was overcome with a hunger, a desire that I had never felt before, I longed to be close to him from the beginning on.

I reached out for him whenever I could, tried to be near him, especially at camp in the evenings, seeing if he would accept my company when he cooked or sorted through his spells.

And he did. And my heart had sung.

While he would not let me help cooking, which was understandable, cooking is a one person only job, he would gladly let me sit by him on a log, chatting away the night, while he chopped up ingredients and put together our meal.

One time he did let me help, he allowed me to create water into the pot, because he claimed that he did not want to make all the way to the well, ‘’my knees, you know”, he had claimed, but the way he had looked at me when he said that made my insides turn and twist with a pleasantly hot flutter.

A flutter I was and am well accustomed with, he just needed to look at me with his burning eyes and I would be a mess.

A mess I tried to hide behind a laugh, a polite smile, a joke, a conversation with Shadowheart about eye makeup or the divine source of her magic like mine came from nature.

A mess gave in to when I was alone at night and feeling so guilty to be using him for my pleasure, my lust, but I was unable to help myself. Not when I looked at him and was overcome with a burning, scorching desire. A carnal desire I had never felt before for anyone!

So I imagined him all over me, lips, tongue and fingers, and silently bucked against my bed roll and it’s pillows until I found the relief I was looking for.

While Gale seemed to be perfectly content in these days to let me do the idle chatter about our day, our finds, our companions and some occurrences and anecdotes from my life was he barely talking about himself.

I occasionally asked and while his answers were interesting for me to learn, he enjoyed good wine (of such we barely found anything of, especially in the beginning of our journey, (it changed when we finally came to Baldur’s Gate), much to his, Astarion’s and also Shadowheart’s disdain), had Tara, even though he did not tell me her name back then nor that she was no ordinary cat but a tressym, and liked to try his hand at poetry.

About which my only thought was that I would like to be the reason for his poetry or alternatively I thought that he could read me poetry, or a law book for that matter, he could read me truly anything with that voice and I would be a swooning puddle.

I was down bad for him from the very beginning on but I did not realise it back then, back then I only basked in his company and the look in his eyes he gave me.

I was pulled to him, wherever we went, I looked out for him in battle, urged Shadowheart to help him or did it myself if I could.

I was searching for the best armours for him, gifted him anything I found and that could protect him. I did it for the others, too, but Gale had quickly become my priority.

The others were more experienced outside in the field, they had survived worse so far, with Shadowheart protecting the artefact and apparently having gone a long way with it already and Astarion with his charm and tendencies to bite and his sneaky nature was he gone from danger before you knew it.

But Gale was different.

His robe was expensive as his taste in wine and food, he was well-read and educated and oh could I watch him practise his magic for hours.

How he flicked just his fingers and the world changed, how he murmured incantations to remember them and how he bellowed them with all his might in battles.

But he was not invincible despite all of his magic and his vigour, he was vulnerable and I would not have that.

I needed everyone to be strong and nearly invincible if we wanted to survive this whole ordeal, if we wanted to find a cure.

So I looked out for him however I could.

This is what I told myself back then, to care for those who somehow ended up under my protection, because they saw a leader in me, someone who could guide them, unite them as a team.

And for that was my duty to look after each and everyone of them, to make sure they would stay sane and healthy, as much as possible, given the circumstances and how each of us had their extra load of the past to carry.

This is what I told myself, what I wanted to believe. But truth was that I loved him from the beginning, that I cared for him more than I ever had for anyone in my life.

So when he pulled me aside in the grove to tell me about his condition with the orb, how he needed magical artefacts in order to survive I did not hesitated for one moment to help him however I could.

Anything he would ask of me I would give him. And more.

I wanted him to like me, to see me, to feel what I felt for him. To desire me like I desired him.

I parted with the magic items I found willingly and quickly, whenever anyone of us found something was my first thought of Gale, not how we could use it but if it would help him.

Help him ease his pain, his arcane hunger. I did not even think of the danger he posed, I just wanted him close to me and safe from the pain and hunger.

And when he told me his full story, how he had been abused and groomed by Mystra for his powers, when he had pressed my hand to his heart and had opened himself up to show me the darkness of the orb, the darkness within and all of the pain and had offered to leave, my heart broke even more for him. And loved him even more than before, even if I thought this was not possible.

I would never let him go, I would never give him the feeling that he needed to take care of himself and what he felt on his own or that he was unwanted for his condition, even unloved.

I wanted him to understand that he was loved and cared for, that he mattered, that I wanted him around me and that I would not damn him for the choices he had made that ultimately led me to find him.

The evening that followed to his confession did he ask me why I let him stay.

I had wanted to say: “Do you remember what I thought about, when you showed me how to conjure the weave, how I wanted to kiss you and hold you and love you? Do you remember how I sought you out at the party after we cleared the way for the Tieflings? How I wanted to be close to you and spend the night by your side? That is why. I love you, Gale, I love you so much and if I would let you go I would explode just like you. I would break apart without you! How could I ever let someone go who holds my heart and my soul and my happiness in their hands?”

But I had swallowed the confession that burned on my heart and had told him the next best thing instead.

“I would miss you”, I said, “I would miss your company around here too much and I care for you, you are not a burden for me. Instead, you are a joy to be around, my joy”, I dared to add and when I had looked up at him was he leaning close, closer than friends should and it would have needed nearly nothing to lean even closer to kiss him. He told me later that he had wanted to kiss me then and there, ‘orb be damned’ he had even thought for a moment but had used what little of will-power he had left to pull away, to wish me a good night and to hide in his tent until morning.

“It was the longest night in my life”, he continued telling me one day.

“I was contemplating my options, wondering whether I could risk going to you, if maybe the orb was stable enough. But then it was you I was thinking about, the orb could never be stable enough for you and what you did to me. Or what I wanted to do to you”, he had turned forward and had gently kissed my earlobe and my jaw, slowly sucking on the skin there until I could not hold in my moans any longer, I had felt him smile against my neck then.

“Just like that — and more…”, his voice had been low and sultry and I had been, once again, a goner.

“Show me now, make it up for the longest night of our lives…”, I had managed to breathe out between his kisses and licks and sucks.

“Oh, gladly, my love, gladly!”, and his fingers had found their ways to the ties of my tunic, where they had awaited my permission to proceed. A permission I had given eagerly and impatiently.

And as the fingers of his one hand had tied my tunic open was his other hand on the nape of my neck, weaving his fingers into my hair as I like to do with him, too.

All while his mouth had never left my skin, he was everywhere, sucking into my neck, kissing the corners of my mouth, my jaw and eventually down my neck towards my chest.

He had pushed my now opened tunic down from my shoulders and his fingers had danced over my collar bones and slowly down my sternum and I had shivered, even though his fingers had been warm and comforting.

Now were his hands laying on my hips as comforting as ever as I took him in. Everything that he was, everything that led us to this moment.

His eyes, so bright, so full of love, the soft purple lines that the orb had left on his skin under his left eye were as much part of the face that I loved so much as his meticulously kept beard.

And the curve of his lips and the shape of his straight nose and the few little shorter hairs that fell out of his windswept hair onto his forehead. And the few little strands of grey on the sides of his head, scattered like trails of silver, rivers of moonlight, painted with a fine brush over a landscape.

Oh his face, his beautiful, gorgeous face, his kind, patient heart and his brilliant, clever mind.

Gale. Gale who was all of that and so much more.

Gale, whose faith in me could move mountains and light up the darkest valleys of my heart, Gale who was the only who could urge me on like this, who would always give me the strength for my next step. However hard it may be, however far I would have to jump.

“Sometimes the only way out is through, isn’t it?”, I say with a big sigh and reluctantly let go of his hand in mine.

Gale gives me a reassuring, encouraging smile, there it was, that unfaltering faith he had in me as I climb into the small rowing boat.

“If these boots have seen everything so far, let them see an elder brain”, I murmur under my breath and watch how my friends, the ones I love, the ones I want on my side for everything that would come now, settle down next to me.

I look at them, at each of them and remember how far we have come.

Astarion, the pale elf with those deep crimson eyes that now look towards where our fate awaits us in the dark, whose eyes flicker to me for just a moment and I am once again reminded and reassured by the promise we gave each other — I’ll keep you safe when you’ll watch my back and I’ll watch yours!

Shadowheart, daughter of darkness, now basked in the light of the moon from the glaive gifted to her from the moon maiden herself sits close by me and reaches wordlessly for the second oar, prepared to join me.

She does not need words to tell me that we will do everything together, rowing, fighting, winning.

I take the oar at my feet and get ready to get the boat moving.

But before the oar can touch the water I look at Gale and our eyes get tangled for a moment. ‘I love you’ I mouth towards him and he smiles, eyes as bright and as warm, no even warmer now, as on the day we met and he mouths it back to me, I love you, too!

That is all I need in confirmation, our story is not over yet, I decide, there are still so many chapters to write for us…

And if I let that brilliant man, this prodigy of a wizard, work his magnificent magic we actually may have a fighting chance to face and to win what waits for us when we reach the other side of the shore and to get to live these future chapters of our story after our victory together!

After all, my beloved is The Wizard of Waterdeep so this must count for something!

And as Shadowheart and I start rowing and our boat glides smoothly and nearly silently through the dark green-ish waters am I seeing our camp back in the wilderness close to the Emerald Grove and the nautiloid’s crash region for a moment. But it is not as it was, when we were there. It is a party, there is plenty of the most extraordinary foods that we certainly did not had and there is everyone there, everyone is alive and well. There is love and peace and celebration!

We are fine!

And I pretend for a second that this is what waits for me of the other side of this day, that this is the dawn that Gale had pictured. That this is what I fight for. That this is what I had fought for from the beginning on.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I am glad you are a part of the story now and I hope you enjoyed your time here! ❤️

Let me tell you one last story: I was not lying when I said I was playing the whole game for the party, for my happy ending with Gale. Marrying that beautiful wizard and living happily in Waterdeep for the rest of our lives.

Well, what can I say, I messed up or my game is a little buggy (or most likely a combination of both) but I had not been able to talk Gale out of becoming a god. Imagine my shock and my terror when he left me at the docks after our final fight without so much of a word of love or affection to get that stupid crown. Oh, how I screamed! He left me behind after everything we‘ve been through, after he even told me that „great ambition should not come at the cost of what you already hold dear. I see that now!“. My heart still weeps!

So I ended up saving the world and everyone is happy and excited and I was cursing the universe!I was in no way in the mood to celebrate and couldn’t even enjoy the epic cut scenes. Oh what a hero‘s story, what a true greek tragedy! Which twists this OS in hindsight into an even bigger tragedy because this is the fate that waits for Tav, there is no new dawn for them on Gale‘s side, which is so much worse than the final fight with the brain. Which went surprisingly well and easy for me. And the vision of the epilogue party they saw in the distance, that I always worked towards, is just as twisted. Because there awaits them, me, no laughter, just tears. No celebration. I admit it, I cried throughout the whole party and I was am devastated since. I already started a new play through, trying to speed run everything that is necessary for my happy ending after all.

[slaughter-kin]

back on my bg3 nonsense

[fandom-go-round]

Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  

Karlach:

            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

[thewizardhole]

[unluckiestmember]

Baldur's Gate 3 X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Astarion Ancunin, Shadowheart, Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, Lae'zel, Wyll Ravengard, Karlach and Halsin

Tags: friends to lovers, acquittances to lovers, in denial, overprotective, fluff, indirect kisses, Gale being Gale, fake love (until it's not), established relationship and innocence.

Warning: SFW. Light suggestive themes.

A/N: Yes, your eyes do not deceive you. No, I'm still in a chokehold-

Astarion Ancunin

“Well aren’t you just the cutest thing ever? I could just eat you right up, darling~.”

When he first met you, Astarion knew you were an easy target. A nice meal he could exploit, especially if you’re a virgin, and a great pawn for the road ahead. He would deliver sweet nothings to you in hopes of sleeping in your bed and drinking from the pure blood that coursed through your veins. But as time continued, as you showed how sweet you were, the pale elf found himself genuinely falling for you.

He wanted to protect you from the world around both of you and bite anyone who tried to hurt you. He’d even hesitate on feeding from you out of fear he’d hurt you or expose himself to your pained gasps. You were his precious jewel he couldn’t afford to be taken from him or tainted in any way. With everyone else, he’s still a flirtatious and snarky vampire spawn. But around you, he will always be a sweet man who wants to make sure you’re okay. His princess/prince… That being said, don’t expect him to stop flirting with you. He adores when you get flustered.

Shadowheart

“Stand behind me! I don’t want you to get hurt! Just do as I say, okay?!”

At first Shadowheart thought you weren’t real. That there was no way in the nine hells that there was someone as pure as you. She genuinely thought your personality was a charade. So she watched you carefully, waiting for you to show your true colors in the form of berating someone or betraying one of the campers. But you never did. You always stayed true to yourself.

When she realized that you were probably the most modest person in your motley crew, the Shar Worshipper became attracted to you. She spent more time with you and suddenly felt like she needed to take care of you along your adventure together. Similar to Astarion, Shadowheart tries to be ever so gentle with you, never using pain in bed and out of bed unless you approve of her actions when she asks for permission. It’s evident to everyone she cares deeply for you and wouldn’t mind spending her life with you.

Gale Dekarios

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen the embodiment of happiness. Who knew I would find that in you?”

You had Gale’s heart as soon as you said hi to him. It didn’t take long for this man to turn into putty around you nor to become friends with you. And he fell in love when you always gave him magical objects without hesitation. Asking him if he’s alright and stroking his head after he eats his weave? He was swooned. The closer you two became, the more the wizard would share his life with you like an open book and offer any kind of lesson in magic to you.

It didn’t take long for him to admit he had romantic feelings for you, leading to you to become a couple. At camp, he is a gentleman, always asking if you need anything in between kisses to your cheek and becoming bashful with you when you bless his ears with your giggles. Outside of camp, he’s focused on you, making sure no one lays a finger or spell on that cute head of yours. You bring the best out of Gale and make him the happiest man in all of the realms.

Lae’zel

“G’lyck. If you’re hurt, then go to the ghustil… Hurry up or I’ll drag you to her myself.”

You were a liability to Lae’zel. Always getting hurt? Never killing your enemies? Checking up on everyone over yourself? She wanted nothing more than to throw you to the wolves so you wouldn’t ruin the group’s odds of survival. She hated you with a flaming passion. She hated how you always asked if she was okay. How you always treated her wounds after a battle and dare to kiss her injuries better. How you cowered behind her during combat.. And especially how you made her heart flutter when you slept across from her by the campfire, watching your cute face in a state of peace…

If it was up to her, she’d kick you out of the camp for what you’ve done to her. She swears it. But for now? She guesses she’ll keep you around for a little longer. Besides, she knows without her you’d die out there. You need her and she needs you.

Wyll Ravengard

“Don’t fret now, I won’t let them lay a finger on you, not when the Blade of Frontiers is right by your side.”

Wyll always wanted to have a romance like fairy tales. Save a fair princess or prince from their troubles like a knight in shining armor while slaying dragons. To meet someone who was the sweetest thing alive and experience real happiness with them by his side. So when he met you, you can bet he felt like he won the jackpot! He found your bashful nature and careless personality to be a breath of fresh air, especially when he was punished by Mizora.

At first you were a great friend, but when you took care of him, polished his horns and always checked if he was alright after fights, true love sprung between you two. It didn’t take long for him to confess his feelings to you and take your hand as your boyfriend. From that day forward, he’s been your savior on and off the battlefield when he wasn’t your sweet lover that showered you in compliments and kisses. You are positive that with Wyll you are bound to have a happily ever after.

Karlach

“Aww, you’re so adorable I just wanna squish your cheeks and hug you forever!... I can?! Well, come here, you!”

It was love at first sight between you and Karlach. After you splashed her with water and made sure she was okay, the barbarian’s heart was in your hands. She was so used to meeting backstabbers, manipulators and liars that she wasn’t sure there were any good people left. But you proved her wrong and she was so happy you did. Because of you, she made it her sole mission to get infernal iron so she could touch you.

When she couldn’t, she would share indirect kisses with you using rocks and even gift you her teddy bear Clive when you couldn’t hold her. And when she finally was able to touch you, she held you as if her life depended on it. There isn’t a moment where you two are not touching in and out of camp. You make her feel alive again in more ways than one and to her you are her soulmate. She loves you so much and will do anything to make sure you know that.

Halsin

“If you were a part of nature’s divine design, then you are a pure ray of sunshine given by the Oak Father.”

Halsin immediately gave you his trust and respect when you saved him without a reason to. It didn’t help that he also found you to be adorable with how nervous you got around him and how you stuttered a bit. With how you were, the druid quickly grew an interest in you, wanting to be beside you and feel your skin against his. He loved how you were so considerate when he wild shaped, petting his head and playing with him effortlessly.

In the wilderness, you were something like his mate, always protected by foes and checked for injuries. If there were any, he would bandage them as quickly as he could and carry you the rest of the way back to camp. When everything was settled, he’d immediately cuddle you as himself or as a bear. You were perfect in every way to him and for that, he would be your sole protector no matter what.

If you got any requests for Baldur's Gate 3, send them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

[bhaalsbabe]

BG3 characters and their approach to eating you out on your period

MDNI, 18+ content below!

They would eat you out like you're their last meal, and the fact that you're bleeding makes them even crazier about it. They love the taste of your blood, and when it's mixed with the sweet juices of your excitement, they go absolutely feral. They will bite your surrounding areas too - you're not going to be bleeding only from your cunt, but your thighs and belly too. Every time they break your skin with their teeth, they suck at the wound, drawing more blood and making their mark on you more visible. And then they go back to devouring your pussy, playing with your clit to make you release more of that delicious nectar. They could go down at you all night... And once they're done, with your blood and cum smeared all over their chin, they'll smirk, and, while making eye contact with you, they'll clean the mess you've made on their face with their hands that they'll lick clean.

Astarion, Lae'zel, Durge, Orin, Halsin, Nere

They're hesitant at first, not finding it disgusting per say, just unsure if they'll find it as enjoyable as you. Still, after the first few tentative licks, they start to relax. They do not thrive on the coppery taste of blood but rather on your reactions to their tongue and sucking - all the noises and involuntary movements you make. They eat you out diligently, making sure you're fully satisfied. Their hands keep exploring your body too, they want you to feel loved. By the time they're done, which depends on how much you're enjoying yourself, they're a panting mess too, ready to do more with you, if you're willing.

Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Zevlor, Isobel, Dammon

They'll gladly do it, just because they enjoy having control over you and when they eat you out, bleeding or not, that's exactly what they're getting. They don't mind sipping your blood, they'll even tease you about the taste, offering you a kiss so you can try it yourself. They'll make you feel embarrassed for how big of a mess you'll turn into, and they'll make you beg for all of your orgasms. They'll show you no mercy and if you weren't so far gone, you'd notice they're really enjoying themselves too. They wouldn't mind turning this into a monthly thing.

Shadowheart, Gortash, Raphael, Volo, Haarlep, Aylin, Minthara

[twi-liight]

Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 

 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 

Yes. They all nod their heads. 

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 

Excellent. 

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 

“Karlach!” 

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 

“Gale?!” 

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

[roughlytwentytwofrogs]

There is an issue in this community with misstagged fics on AO3, specifically in the FxF tags. I don't know if it's going to reach the actual people or not but I'm still going to put this here:

A lot of MxM and FxM are tagging FxF ships in the main relationship category despite the ship itself only being written in the background.

Which is a problem because when you go into your ship tag to find fics of your ship, a ridiculous amount of them are off topic. And while yes you can lower that amount significantly by filtering and tag exclusion, AO3 has a built in feature that is made to avoid this.

I am going to use the Shadowzel tag for that because it's the most popular FxF ship on there and it's also one of the most misstagged rn. As of right now, there is 607 fics in the Shadowzel tag without filter. If you restrict the search to only include FxF, you are down to 397 fics. That is more than a third gone!

And it gets rid of some shadowzel content as well, so it's either you filter that out or you have to scroll through a tag where 1 out of 3 fics are about Astarion, Gale, Halsin, etc instead of the ship you looked up.

If your fic, let's take for example a Tav x Astarion, has either consistent mention of Shadowheart x Lae'zel, the most popular wlw ship, or has them in the background as support characters, or even just mentions them as a funny little wink and you want to make sure your readers know they are in here, you do not use the relationship tag! You go down to the additional tags and add "Minor Lae'zel/Shadowheart (Baldur's Gate)".

Unless the pairing you are tagging is the main focus or have a significant role and spotlight on them, you should not use the relationship tag! It clogs the feed for no reason, AO3 is not a website where you have to advertise your posts to the most tags possible.

Adding a visual for clarity:

[multiverse-menagerie]

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

[madwomansapologist]

──────〃✰ kinktober 2024 ୨ৎ

welcome to my first kinktober! bellow you'll find prompts i've come up with + one that was commented on a post i made about this very same subject.

if you want to be tagged, tell me! i update this post everytime i finish one of the prompts with some details.

୨ৎ WEEK 1: LET'S PLAY PRETEND ୨ৎ

OCT 1ST strip poker with sir crocodile

title: poker face synopsis: luckily, mr. zero didn't knew you were a mugiwara. luckily, mr. zero fell for your bluffs. unfortunately, you never imagined it would be that hard to not fall for crocodile's charm. [3.1K] cw: mugiwara!fem!reader, strip poker, strip tease, public sex, cock crush, nipple stimulation, size difference, fingering (f!receiving), riding, biting, scratching, finger sucking, p in v, creampie, possessive behavior, mob boss meets a baddie, pussy so good he wonders about marriage.

OCT 3TH somnophilia with kento nanami

title: sweet dreams synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [1.5K] cw: established relationship, service top!reader, somnophilia, body worship, nipple stimulation, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), choking (gn!receiving), hair pulling, overstimulation.

OCT 5TH incest with karlach

title: a small favor synopsis: a movie night turned into you being a good girl for your older sister. if only she had warned you of what it truly meant. [1.1K] cw: t!karlach, plus size!reader, incest, lil sis/big sis, dub con, gaslighting, obssessive behavior, apologetic, spit, dry humping, pussyjob, premature ejaculation.

୨ৎ WEEK 2: MONSTERS AND LESBIANS DESERVE LOVE TOO ୨ৎ

OCT 6TH monster fucking with multiple monsters

title: haunted bang synopsis: when you decided to explored a haunted mansion, all you wanted was to gain more knowledge for your grimoire. you never expected it to be habited, even less for all the residents to agree that sharing is caring. [2.4K] cw: wizard!reader, teratophilia, monster fucking, gangbang, voyeurism, size difference, manhandling, mind connection, scent kink, oral (females!receiving), pet play, pussy drunk, overstimulation, you know that post about "would you fuck your clone?", f in v, monsters included are a eldritch creature, a werewolf, a vampire and a shapeshifter.

OCT 8TH shower sex with namivivi

title: let it sink in synopsis: the fight was over, the war was done, but the tension was still there. watching the princess falling victim of her own mind, the navigator has to intervene. [1K] cw: established relationship, insecurity, a bit of hurt and a lot of comfort, this isn't sex it's love okay i'm sensitive about them, shower sex, masturbation.

OCT 10TH scent kink with farcille

title: animal attraction synopsis: back from the dead, falin could feel something changing inside of her. but with marcille's scent blinding her mind, she ignored the dragon and focused on the warmth coming from her friend. [0.8K] cw: the night pre-chimera, scent kink (in a dragon’s mate way), nipple stimulation, a tiny small bit of somnophilia, erotic dreams, public sex.

OCT 12TH masturbation with nico robin

title: a helping hand synopsis: there is an aspect of sailing in the grand line you failed to consider: there is no one to fuck. of course, that's only true if you ignore your crew as candidates. [0.5K] cw: sorry for the delay! reader has a little crush on luffy, masturbation, accidental orgasm denial, accidental/non-accidental voyeurism.

୨ৎ WEEK 3: REWARD SYSTEM ୨ৎ

OCT 13TH praise kink with kagaya x reader x amane

title: pretty, pretty, pretty synopsis: back from a mission, is time to remember your lovers you will always be there to take care of their every needs and desires. [1.1K] cw: sorry for the delay! established relationship, kagaya x reader x amane, dom!fem!reader, praise kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f! and m! receiving), body worship, oral (m!receiving).

OCT 15TH bondage with dark justiciar shadowheart

title: sing your prayers synopsis: to worship lady shar, one must be perfect. shadowheart will guide you, make you the best you can ever be. don't matter the cost, her teachings shall find a way into your very soul. [1K] cw: fem!reader, bard!tav, domme!shadowheart, power imbalance, memory loss, bondage, humilliation kink, temperature play, gaslighting, dacryphilia, religious imagery, Shar vs Selune.

OCT 17TH corruption kink with shan yu

title: training session synopsis: you're tired of being treated like a glass about to be shattered. if he will have you whole, than it's only fair you receive the same. [1.3K] cw: established relationship, corruption kink, finger sucking, masturbation (m!receiving), oral (m!receiving), cum eating.

୨ৎ WEEK 4: ANIME SEASON ୨ৎ

OCT 24TH sex pollen with kyojuro rengoku

title: milk me synopsis: usually demons' poisons just kill whoever was affected by them. this time, it served for something else. something way better. [2.1K] cw: established relationship, eye patch!kyojuro, crystal hashira!reader, sex pollen, public sex, pussy drunk, forced orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), p in v, dacryphilia, spit, nipple stimulation, accidental voyeurism (we'll say: sorry miss shinobu).

୨ৎ WEEK 5: LOVE, LOVE, LOVE ୨ৎ

OCT 27TH exhibitionism kink with ryomen sukuna

title: mine synopsis: watching the man you love deny himself of his needs, you take matters into your own hands. or lips, to be more precise. [0.5K] cw: established relationship, toxic couple (only towards others), exhibitionism, public sex, cockwarming.

taglist: @ffinosie @lovelyy-moonlight @alzaira @s2-angells @eyes-ofhell @inlovewithmariah @chiiyohiimee @shaquilles-0atmeal @bloodyziggy @salemey @kcch-ns @notanalienindisguiseblink @py-schi @miyanosm @idonthaveanameforthisacc

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[slaughter-kin]

guys i’m so close to 1000 followers!!

[moonselune]

Hello! Could you write all the origin companions reaction to a tav who sacrificed themselves to save them? Whether or not tav gets revivified is up to you. Thank you! I hope you enjoyed your break!

yes yes yes, so this is going to be quite similar to the silly sacrifice one but I tried to focus more on the revivfy section kind of

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The battle had reached its peak, the air thick with the scent of blood and the clashing of steel. You and Karlach fought side by side, her infernal rage blazing like a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But then, in a split second, you saw the demon's sword arching towards her, aiming for a fatal blow. Without a second thought, you threw yourself in its path, the blade biting deep into your flesh.

The world seemed to slow as you fell to the ground, your vision darkening. Karlach’s roar of anguish cut through the din of battle. She fought with a renewed ferocity, dispatching the demon with a series of powerful blows, her eyes never leaving your fallen form.

“No, no, no!” she cried, dropping to her knees beside you, her hands shaking as she held your lifeless body. Tears streamed down her face, her fiery aura flickering as despair threatened to consume her. “You can't leave me like this! You can't!”

Desperation gave her strength as she pulled out a revivify scroll from her pack. Her hands were unsteady, but her resolve was ironclad. She chanted the incantation, pouring all her will into bringing you back. For a moment, nothing happened, and her heart nearly shattered.

Then, your chest heaved with a ragged breath, and your eyes fluttered open. Karlach's tears flowed even harder, but now they were tears of relief and joy. She cradled your face in her hands, her touch gentle despite her overwhelming strength.

“You scared me so much,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead against yours. “I thought I’d lost you for good. Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

You managed a weak smile, lifting a hand to brush away her tears. “I’m sorry, Karlach. I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

She held you close, her body shaking with the force of her emotions. “I love you so much,” she whispered fiercely. “And I need you with me. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The night was filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of swords and the screams of the dying. You and Minthara moved as one, a deadly dance of blades and magic. But then, you saw it—the assassin, poised to strike Minthara from the shadows. Instinct took over, and you flung yourself in front of her, the blade intended for her plunging into your chest instead.

Minthara's eyes widened in shock and rage as you collapsed to the ground. She dispatched the assassin with ruthless efficiency, her movements swift and lethal. But as she knelt beside you, her expression shifted to one of desperate fear.

“No, you fool,” she hissed, her hands trembling as she reached for you, only to find your lifeless body. “Why did you do that?”

Minthara’s eyes flashed with anger and sorrow. She pulled out a revivify scroll, her voice steady but urgent as she recited the spell. The magic flowed from her fingertips, enveloping your body in a soft glow.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then, your chest rose with a shuddering breath, and your eyes opened. Minthara’s relief was palpable, but she quickly masked it with her usual stern expression.

“You think death can take you from me so easily?” she asked, her voice laced with mockery to hide the desperation she felt. “You’re mine, and only I decide when you go.”

"Wouldn't dream of it" You smiled weakly, the warmth of life returning to your limbs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Minthara's stern facade cracked slightly, and she leaned down to press a fierce kiss to your lips. “Good,” she murmured against your mouth, her voice softening for a brief moment. “Because I need you by my side. Always.”

She pulled back, her eyes burning with a fierce possessiveness. “Do not ever think you can leave me so easily. Death itself will bend to my will if it means keeping you with me.”

You chuckled softly, wincing at the pain but finding comfort in her words. “I know my love,”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The battlefield was a chaotic swirl of violence, the clang of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You and Lae'zel fought side by side, a formidable team. But in a split second, you saw an enemy warrior, poised to strike her from behind. Without hesitation, you lunged forward, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was excruciating, but you gritted your teeth, determined to protect her. As the world around you faded to black, the last thing you saw was Lae'zel's horrified expression.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with Lae'zel's fierce gaze, her hands pressed against your chest where the wound had been. The magic of the revivify scroll was still fading from her fingertips. Relief flickered in her eyes before it was quickly replaced with anger.

"Fool!" she snapped, pulling you up to a sitting position. "You call that battle technique? Throwing yourself in front of a blade like a reckless child?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain still lingering in your body. "Nice to see you too, Lae'zel."

Her glare intensified, but you could see the worry in her eyes. "Do not mock me. Your survival is not a joke. You are to be better, to fight smarter. I will not lose you to your own stupidity."

"Yes, ma'am," you said, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'll try to remember that next time."

She sighed, her expression softening ever so slightly. "See that you do. I need you alive and by my side, not dead on the ground." She reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead with surprising tenderness. "Promise me you will fight smarter."

You took her hand in yours, squeezing it gently. "I promise, Lae'zel."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle raged around you, guts and gore everywhere, but your focus was solely on Shadowheart. She was cornered, surrounded by enemies, and in that moment, you knew what you had to do. You threw yourself in front of her, taking a vicious blow that would have ended her life. The pain was immense, but you didn't regret it for a second. As your vision blurred and darkness closed in, you heard her scream your name.

When you awoke, the first thing you felt were her tears on your face. Shadowheart was leaning over you, her hands glowing with the last remnants of a revivify spell. Her eyes were red, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at you with a mix of relief and frustration.

"You idiot," she choked out, her voice trembling. "Why did you do that? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?"

You tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "Because I love you, Shadowheart. I couldn't let you die."

She sobbed, her tears falling onto your face. "You reckless fool. You can't just… just die like that. I can't lose you." She tried to scold you, but her voice broke, and she buried her face in your chest, her body shaking with sobs.

You reached up, gently stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Shadowheart. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She lifted her head, her tear-filled eyes meeting yours. "Don't you ever do that again," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You hear me? I can't… I can't go through that again."

"I promise. I'll be more careful." You nodded, pulling her close and holding her tightly. She clung to you, her sobs gradually subsiding as she calmed down.

"I'm just so glad you're alive," she whispered, her voice still trembling. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"I'm here," you said softly, kissing the top of her head. "And I'm not going anywhere."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The clashing of swords and the shouts of warriors filling the air. You and Jaheira fought side by side, her presence a comforting and motivating force. But then, you saw it—a blade aimed straight at her back. Without thinking, you threw yourself in its path, taking the blow meant for her. The pain was sharp and overwhelming, and you fell to the ground, the world fading to black.

When you opened your eyes, Jaheira was kneeling over you, her hands glowing with the light of a revivify spell. Her expression was calm, though you could see the concern in her eyes. She finished the spell, and the pain began to ebb away as life returned to your body.

"There you are," she said, her tone brisk but affectionate. She pulled you to your feet with surprising strength, and before you could fully process what was happening, she leaned in and pressed a firm, warm kiss to your lips.

"You'll need to be quicker next time, you would have easily been able to deflect that blade," she said, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "But thank you."

You managed a weak smile, still a bit dazed and in awe of how calm she was. "Anything for you, Jaheira."

"Good," she replied, giving you a pat on the back. "Now, back to the fight. We have work to do."

With that, she turned and rejoined the fray, leaving you with a sense of awe and gratitude. She had seen death and resurrection enough times to take it in stride, but her kiss had been full of warmth and reassurance, a silent promise that she would always be there to pull you back from the brink.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The air crackled with magical energy as the battle raged on. You saw Gale, his focus entirely on casting a powerful spell, unaware of the enemy creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you darted forward, taking the lethal blow meant for him. The pain was excruciating, and darkness quickly consumed your vision.

When you awoke, you felt the tingling aftermath of a powerful spell. Gale stood over you, his hands still glowing with the energy of the revivify spell he had just cast. His face was a mix of relief and exasperation.

"Really? It was that easy" he said to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "This was disturbingly easy by comparison, you could just ressurect any odd fool.."

Gale continued to ramble to himself until you blinked back to conciousness and managed a weak chuckle, your body still aching. "See? And the things I have to do for you, purple string and all that."

His expression softened as he realized you were awake he was about to retort when he realised why you were bother there in the first place.

"You shouldn't have done that," he scolded, though his tone was gentle. "Sacrificing yourself like that was reckless."

"I had to," you replied, your voice hoarse. "If you died, the Netherese orb would have gone off and killed us all. Someone had to protect you."

Gale sighed, his frustration melting into acceptance. "You have a fair point," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He helped you to your feet, his grip steady and reassuring. "Just… try not to die again, alright?"

"I'll do my best," you said, smiling up at him. Gale's eyes softened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace.

"Good. Because I don't want to go through that again." He held you close for a moment before stepping back, his hand lingering on your shoulder. He knew you had reason on your side, and it killed him but for now he would keep some revivfy scrolls to himself, just for you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The battlefield was a chaotic blur, the clash of steel and the cries of the wounded filling the air. You saw Astarion, his back turned as he fought off an enemy, completely unaware of the assassin creeping up behind him. Without hesitation, you launched yourself in front of him, taking the lethal blow. The pain was searing, and darkness quickly overtook you.

When you came to, the first thing you saw was Astarion's face, his expression a mix of shock and relief. He had just finished casting a revivify spell, the magic still shimmering around his fingers.

"You idiot!" he exclaimed, his voice a mixture of anger and worry. "What were you thinking, throwing yourself in front of a blade like that?"

"I had to protect you," you managed to say, your voice weak. You groaned, the pain from the wound still lingering.

Astarion's eyes softened for a moment, but then his usual dramatic flair took over. He placed a hand on his chest, striking a theatrical pose.

"I suppose I should thank you for your valiant sacrifice," he said, his tone dripping with mock grandeur. "After all, you did save my life, and now you owe yours to me. Consider me your god, darling."

You couldn't help but chuckle, despite the pain. "Oh, great. Now I'll never hear the end of it."

Astarion leaned down, pressing a surprisingly tender kiss to your forehead. "Don't think this means you can make a habit of dying on me," he murmured, his voice softer now. "I quite like having you around."

"I'll do my best," you replied, smiling up at him. "But maybe next time, try to keep an eye on your surroundings? You supposed omniscient god."

He smirked, helping you to your feet. "Deal. Now, let's finish this fight so I can properly express my gratitude later."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The battle was fierce, and in the midst of the chaos, you saw Wyll, his focus entirely on fending off multiple attackers. Suddenly, an enemy appeared from the shadows, aiming a deadly blow at him. Without thinking, you threw yourself in front of him, taking the hit. The pain was overwhelming, and darkness quickly enveloped you.

When you woke, you felt a familiar warmth and the tingling of healing magic. Wyll's face hovered above you, his expression a mixture of relief and overwhelming joy. He had just cast a revivify spell, bringing you back from the brink of death.

"Thank the gods," Wyll whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I thought I'd lost you."

You smiled weakly, your body still aching. "Couldn't let that happen," you replied softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thanks to you," he said, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But don't you ever scare me like that again."

Before you could respond, Wyll pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he would never let go. He peppered your face with kisses, his relief and love evident in every touch. "I'm so glad you're alive," he murmured between kisses. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling his warmth and the steady beat of his heart.

"I had to protect you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't bear to lose you either."

Wyll pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression serious. "We're in this together, remember? Next time, we'll protect each other."

"I promise," you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. "But you better be ready for a lot of hugging if you ever scare me like that again."

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "I'll take that over losing you any day," he said, giving you one more firm kiss before helping you to your feet.

With Wyll's arm around you, providing support and comfort, you both turned to face the rest of the battle, ready to continue fighting side by side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The battlefield was a frenzy of chaos and bloodshed. Amidst the turmoil, you saw Halsin, his powerful form surrounded by enemies, but his focus on the frontline left him vulnerable. An enemy archer, hidden in the shadows, took aim at him. Without a second thought, you dashed forward, throwing yourself in front of him just as the arrow was released. The searing pain hit you, and darkness quickly swallowed your vision.

When you came to, you were lying on the ground, Halsin's face hovering over yours, his expression one of frantic concern. His hands were glowing with healing magic, and you felt the warmth and energy seeping into your body, bringing you back from the brink of death.

"Don't you dare leave me," Halsin murmured, his voice a mixture of command and desperation. His eyes were intense, filled with worry and relief as he saw you stir.

"Halsin…" you managed to whisper, your voice weak. "You're okay?"

He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Thanks to you," he replied, his tone softening. But then his expression shifted to one of fierce protectiveness. "But that was incredibly reckless. I can't lose you."

Before you could protest or even fully process what was happening, Halsin scooped you up into his strong arms, lifting you effortlessly from the ground. The battle still raged around you, but his focus was solely on getting you to safety.

"Halsin, put me down," you said, trying to sound firm despite your weakened state. "I can still fight."

"No," he replied, his voice unyielding. "You've done more than enough. Your place now is to recover."

You tried to wriggle free, but his grip was ironclad, and his pace didn't falter as he carried you away from the chaos. "Halsin, listen to me. We need every hand we can get out there. I can't just—"

"Enough," he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I cannot bear to see you hurt again. Let me protect you this time."

The sheer determination in his voice, coupled with the tenderness in his eyes, made your protest die in your throat. You sighed, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart.

"Fine," you conceded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "But once this is over, we need to talk about your definition of 'teamwork.'"

A small, relieved smile tugged at his lips. "Fine," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "But for now, just rest. Leave me to taking the hits for now."

As he carried you to a secure spot, away from the battle, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and gratitude. You were a fighter, but having someone like Halsin care so deeply for you, willing to protect you at all costs, was a comfort you hadn't expected. And as he set you down gently and continued to shield you with his presence, you realized that sometimes, letting someone else take the lead wasn't always a sign of weakness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it !

[prettyboykatsuki]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

[avocado-writing]

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

partner piece to this!

Astarion

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gale

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

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

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

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

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

Wyll

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

“wyll! big guy on your left!”

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

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

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

Karlach

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

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

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

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

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

Lae’zel

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

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

you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.

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

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

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

Shadowheart

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

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

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

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

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

Halsin

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

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

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

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

Minthara

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

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

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

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

[triptanite]

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

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

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

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

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Headcanons below

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The Companions (Alphabetical)

ASTARION

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

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

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

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

GALE

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

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

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

HALSIN

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

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

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

KARLACH

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

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

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

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

LAEZEL

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

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

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

MINTHARA

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

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

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

SHADOWHEART

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

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

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

WYLL

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

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

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

Bonus!

NPCs (Alphabetical)

GORTASH

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

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

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

RAPHAEL

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

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

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

ROLAN

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

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

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

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

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

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

take care! :3