#why am I imagining this in Karlach's voice

[pheonixgrave]

Softer Now (18+)

Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that

Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II

“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.

“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.

“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”

“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.

The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”

“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”

“That doesn’t make you angry?”

“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”

“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair. 

“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”

She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”

“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?

Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating. 

“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”

“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.” 

“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.

Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”

Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”

He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”

Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”

Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”

The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”

“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.

“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”

A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”

Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”

“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”

Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it. 

“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away. 

She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”

Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”

Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?” 

The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?” 

She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form. 

“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal. 

She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”

Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”

He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”

“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again. 

For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her. 

She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.

For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy.  She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.

He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”

She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.” 

He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read. 

As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck. 

“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him. 

He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”

“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense. 

“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception. 

She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him. 

He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”

She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves. 

Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her. 

It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him. 

“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit. 

She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly. 

Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.

Almost.

Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.

With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation. 

“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.

“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap. 

He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”

Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”

She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined. 

“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”

She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”

He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips.  She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”

Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.” 

“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.

She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse. 

“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought. 

“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.

Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet. 

She was his. And he was equally hers. 

Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other. 

“Did you see who was in the bushes?” 

He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”

“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.

“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”

[moonselune]

hiya!! New asker :3 sorry if theres any wording/language mistakes !! (^_^;)

could i request something of the ladies (any of them, all of them, idm, just 3+ ppl), where, they have a fem s/o (tav? Idk, im not sure what to call reader .. english isnt my first language T_T) which was presumed to be human, since they dislike power-based violence/use of magic (for traumatic reasons or whatnot), but, was later on revealed to be a shapeshifter (the thing that turns into animals.. gahh!! Forgive me 〃_ _ i dunno what theyre called either !!!) when they saved the ladies from an attack by transforming into an animal and scaring the perp away with an uncharacteristically hostile like .. maw, at the perps leg?? Or sumthing? I'd imagine the pure look of terror as they see just .. a panther, clawing at some poor bastard like, 'holy shit am i snow white ?? did mother nature heed my call??' Nope! Just a dumbass.

An aftermath to their discovery would be appreciated ( ´∀`) please and thanks >0<

absolutely no worries ! this is such a cute idea !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The fight started so quickly that you barely had time to think. You were setting up camp with Karlach when a figure emerged from the darkness, sword in hand, lunging straight at her. Karlach jumped to her feet, ready for the fight, but something sharp and panicked sparked within you. You knew Karlach could handle herself, but the instinct to protect her—no matter what it took—overwhelmed your usual caution.

Without even realizing it, you let the magic course through you, body shrinking, limbs compressing, until you found yourself standing on tiny paws. You darted forward, a small, fluffy bundle of fury, right at the attacker’s legs. You clawed and bit at the leather of his boots, making the best use of your tiny form to throw him off-balance. He stumbled, trying to kick you away, but you clung on fiercely, digging your claws in deep, squeaking out tiny sounds of defiance.

Karlach barely noticed at first. She landed a solid punch to his face, but out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of you—the small, scrappy squirrel clinging to the attacker’s leg, and she let out a surprised laugh. “Well, hello there, little buddy! Didn’t think I’d have a squirrel as backup!”

Just then, Karlach landed her final hit, and the attacker crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain. She turned to you, grinning widely, crouching down with her hands on her knees.

“You little hero!” she cooed, her voice warm. “Look at you, all fierce and… fluffy.”

Realizing that the danger had passed, you backed away from the now-unconscious man and let the magic reverse itself. As the air shimmered around you, you reappeared in your human form, slightly disheveled but with a determined set to your expression.

Karlach’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open as she stared at you in astonishment.

“Wait… that was you?” she stammered, looking between you and the spot where the little squirrel had been only seconds before.

You scratched the back of your neck, feeling a little sheepish. “Uh… surprise?” you mumbled, giving her an awkward smile. “I… I didn’t want you getting hurt, so I did the only thing I could think of.”

Karlach blinked, then laughed—a deep, belly laugh that filled the air around you. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“You little rascal,” she said, still chuckling. “My own little squirrel warrior. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that? I would’ve been showing you off ages ago!”

“I didn’t think it would be that useful,” you admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I mean, I can only shift into small animals, nothing intimidating like a bear or a wolf.”

She shook her head, beaming down at you. “Useful? Are you kidding? You were perfect.” She squeezed you a little tighter, resting her chin on top of your head. “Don’t sell yourself short. That was brave, you know? Going all squirrel-savage on a guy for me.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of her praise settle over you. “Guess I’m just full of surprises.”

She tilted your chin up, eyes sparkling with admiration. “You sure are.” Then she leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her thumb tracing your cheek. “So, any other critters you can turn into? Or do I have the one and only squirrel hero?”

“Maybe someday,” you replied, grinning. “For now, it’s just the squirrel.”

She chuckled, resting her hand against your shoulder. “Well, I think my little squirrel warrior is perfect just the way they are.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Minthara stood strong and unfazed as a towering attacker emerged from the shadows, weapon raised and venomous intent clear in his eyes. You watched from a few paces back, frozen in fear for her—Minthara was capable, powerful, but seeing her in even the slightest amount of danger tightened something sharp in your chest. He slashed at her, and she deflected, but the thought of anything happening to her spurred you into action.

Without thinking, you dropped your staff, heart pounding as you called on your long-buried druidic abilities. In an instant, the world changed as your body shrank, your senses heightening as you shifted into the small, sleek form of a cat. The ground felt different under your paws as you darted forward, hissing with all the fury you could muster.

You latched onto the attacker’s leg, sinking your claws in deep, scratching and biting in a desperate attempt to divert his attention. He yelped in surprise, trying to shake you off, clearly thrown off by the sudden feline attack. You dug your claws deeper, adrenaline fueling your tiny form as you held on with everything you had.

Minthara looked down, her brow furrowed, clearly perplexed by the unexpected interruption. With a swift, well-placed strike, she finally sent the attacker sprawling to the ground, unconscious. She straightened, her gaze falling on you—the small, determined creature still clawing at the man's leg even as he lay motionless.

“Shoo, creature,” she said firmly, as if to dismiss some curious animal drawn to the battle. “I can handle—” Her voice trailed off, realization dawning as she watched the air around you shimmer. You felt the magic pull at you, and a moment later, your body was back to its familiar form, crouched on the ground in front of her.

The astonishment in her eyes made you almost want to shrink back down again. You had always kept this part of yourself hidden, especially since your shapeshifting leaned less toward the ferocious beasts that could protect or terrify and more toward harmless little creatures—those that could help you stay out of harm’s way, not dive headfirst into it. Minthara blinked, taking in the sight of you, and for a rare moment, she was speechless.

“You…” she began slowly, her tone laced with curiosity and something softer. “You are a druid?” She regarded you with a glint of surprise that quickly hardened into a sharper, calculating interest. “And you… you became a cat to protect me?”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, an odd mixture of pride and embarrassment. “I… I couldn’t just stand by and watch you fight alone,” you replied, trying to meet her gaze despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. “I know it wasn’t much, but… it’s all I could do.”

For a long moment, Minthara was silent, her piercing gaze sweeping over you as though reassessing everything she knew about you. Then, a faint, almost amused smirk touched her lips.

“I would have managed,” she said with a hint of smugness, but her eyes betrayed a glimmer of appreciation, maybe even affection. “But to think… my lover is a feline at heart.” Her hand reached out, fingers grazing the back of your neck in a soft, unexpected caress. “A pacifist druid. I never would have guessed.”

Your cheeks heated further, and you stammered slightly, “I, um… I only transform when I have to. I prefer staying out of fights.” Her fingers lingered, gently tracing a line across your shoulder.

“There are ways I understand that, ways I admire it.” Minthara’s gaze softened as she looked at you, her tone dipping to a softer, almost reverent register. “But I’ll admit, seeing you leap in—even in such a… small form—to defend me… it was endearing.” Her voice dropped, a teasing edge creeping in. “Next time, though, perhaps something with fangs? A wolf, perhaps?”

You laughed nervously, “Cats have fangs!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but they’re so small. I could barely see your claws through his screams.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the relief and joy that bloomed in your chest. Despite the banter, she didn’t seem to see your ability as weakness; if anything, she seemed more amused and intrigued.

“Thank you,” she said softly, surprising you with the sudden earnestness in her tone. Her hand slipped down to clasp yours, fingers intertwining in a rare gesture of tenderness. “Even if it was unnecessary, it was… appreciated.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

It all happened in an instant. You were packing up supplies while Lae'zel scouted ahead, moving with that determined grace she always had, when a cloaked figure burst from the shadows, sword raised and aimed at her. Lae'zel was quick to dodge, moving as naturally into the fight as breathing, but the danger filled you with dread. You were a pacifist, sure, but the thought of Lae'zel getting hurt… there was no question. Without a second thought, you let your magic swell within you, focusing all your energy into shifting forms.

When the air around you settled, you found yourself with long ears, twitching nose, and small, fluffy paws. A rabbit. Perhaps not the fearsome creature to counter a blade-wielding threat, but it didn’t matter. You launched yourself forward, bounding toward the attacker’s leg, biting and scratching as best you could.

Lae'zel had been parrying the figure’s strikes, but she caught sight of you mid-leap and froze, her eyes narrowing as she took in the sight. The figure staggered back, yelling as he kicked at his leg to dislodge the 'fearsome rabbit' gnawing at his ankle.

With one smooth strike, Lae'zel spun, knocking the man out cold with the flat of her blade. She let him crumple to the ground, then stood over him with a frown, looking utterly perplexed. Slowly, she crouched down to where you sat, fur fluffed in a mix of adrenaline and nerves. Lae'zel looked at you as though you were a puzzle that had just taken her by surprise.

“Little one… who sent you?” she muttered, inspecting you with a baffled tilt of her head, as if waiting for you to offer some explanation. Her frown deepened, and she glanced around, clearly wondering if some powerful creature of nature had blessed her with a strange, protective animal companion.

With a deep breath, you focused again, and the magic reversed, shifting you back into your own form. Lae'zel’s eyes widened, and her mouth parted in shock.

“You…” Her brow furrowed, and her golden eyes scanned you from head to toe, searching. “You were the rabbit?”

You took a step back, rubbing the back of your neck, feeling uncharacteristically sheepish under her intense gaze. “Uh… yes. It’s a druid thing. I… can only shift into small animals, nothing too ferocious. I… don’t really like fighting.”

She folded her arms over her chest, her lips pressing into a stern line as she studied you, processing this revelation. Then, after a moment, she chuckled—a low, amused sound.

“Of course,” she said, her eyes glinting with unexpected warmth. “I find myself a lover, and they are fierce in heart if not in form.” She stepped closer, her hand rising to cup your cheek, her fingers warm and rough against your skin. “You would risk yourself for me, even if only as a small, inconsequential creature. It is… oddly endearing.”

You laughed, still a bit embarrassed but touched by her words. “Well, I know it’s not much, but I wanted to help, somehow. I just… couldn’t stand by and watch you get hurt.”

She nodded, the proud gleam in her eyes softening slightly. “For all your soft heart, you still have courage, even if it is hidden within a timid form. And here I thought only a mighty beast would protect me,” she teased, her mouth curving into a small smile.

Her hand lingered on your cheek, and you felt a rush of relief and affection. “Thank you for not, um, laughing too much at me.”

She scoffed, though there was a fondness in her gaze that softened her words. “Laugh at you? I find no humor in bravery, no matter how small or soft it may appear. You fight with heart, even in the guise of a rabbit.”

She brushed her thumb over your cheek, then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Next time, though, I prefer you let me handle the danger. Your place is by my side, not nipping at an enemy’s ankles.”

“I’ll try,” you murmured, letting yourself lean into her touch.

She nodded, her expression resolute. “Good.” Then she paused, looking at you with that intense, unwavering gaze. “But if you must turn into something small, a rabbit is not the worst. Fierce, in your own peculiar way.”

The words were sweet in her own blunt way, and she pulled you close, her hand at the back of your neck. In that moment, you could feel all of her affection, fierce and undiluted, a proud acceptance for every part of you—even your timid rabbit heart.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The ambush was sudden. You’d been picking through supplies while Shadowheart kept watch when a figure sprang out from the shadows, their blade glinting in the low light as they lunged at her. Shadowheart blocked them deftly, her shield raised in an instant, but the sheer danger of the attack froze you for a split second. You’d managed to keep your druidic abilities a secret from everyone thus far, but seeing her in danger threw your instinct for secrecy out the window. There was no time to think.

You felt the familiar warmth of magic wash over you as you shrank, fur sprouting along your body, limbs shortening and fingers turning into small paws. Within moments, you found yourself scurrying toward the attacker as a soft, fluffy guinea pig, bounding over rocks and dirt with more determination than speed.

Reaching the attacker’s ankle, you dug your tiny claws into his leather boot, biting and scratching with all the ferocity a guinea pig could muster, which, admittedly, wasn’t much. But it was enough to throw the man off balance for a second, and he jerked his leg, trying to shake off the unexpected rodent clinging to him.

Shadowheart glanced down, brow furrowing. “And where did you come from?” she muttered under her breath, catching sight of your little, fur-covered form. For a moment, she looked at you with the tiniest hint of amusement in her eyes, as if she’d just stumbled upon an unlikely new ally in the form of an overly enthusiastic guinea pig.

With one swift move, she deflected the attacker’s blade and knocked him out cold, her stance unyielding as she finished the fight in seconds. She watched him slump to the ground, nudging him with her boot to ensure he was fully down. When she turned back, she looked down at you, still curled defensively by her feet, and gave a small chuckle.

“What are you doing here, little one?” she asked softly, reaching a hand out as if to pet your tiny head. But before she could, you let out a small, apologetic squeak and concentrated, feeling the shape of your body shift back. Fur faded into skin, paws turned back to hands, and your form grew until you stood in front of her once more.

The surprise on her face was priceless. Shadowheart blinked, her mouth parting slightly as she pieced together what had just happened.

“You… You’re a druid?” Her voice held both curiosity and a hint of disbelief, her gaze shifting from you to the defeated attacker, then back to you again.

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling uncharacteristically shy under her intense scrutiny. “Yeah… I’m a druid. I’ve just, uh, kept it quiet because… well, I’m not exactly the most… threatening sort. I can only turn into small animals—harmless ones, really. And, I mean… I’d rather avoid violence altogether if I can.”

Her expression softened, a look of endearment settling on her face as she took in this new side of you. A slight smirk pulled at her lips.

“So, instead of letting me handle it, you chose to launch yourself—” she gestured with a wry wave of her hand, “—at him, as a guinea pig?”

You smiled sheepishly, trying to shrug it off. “I… I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing while you were in danger. I know it’s ridiculous, but I thought maybe it would help. Somehow.”

Shadowheart’s smirk softened into something gentler as she reached out, taking your hand in hers. She studied your face, her thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“It wasn’t ridiculous. It was… incredibly brave. And kind.” She paused, tilting her head with that slightly bemused smile. “Even if it’s not the most traditional method of defense.”

A warmth filled your chest at her words, her acceptance of this strange, vulnerable side of you, and you let yourself relax under her touch. “Thank you. I know it’s not… much. But I wanted to protect you, however I could.”

She lifted a hand to your cheek, her dark eyes softened in a rare show of tenderness. “You already do. More than you know. It doesn’t matter what form you take, or what methods you use—you stood by me, risked yourself to keep me safe. There’s no grander bravery than that.”

You leaned into her touch, feeling the tension melt from your shoulders. Shadowheart gave your cheek a final gentle stroke, then moved her hand to rest against your shoulder, pulling you into a quiet, grounding embrace.

“Though next time,” she murmured against your ear with a smirk, “perhaps leave the fighting to me. Your place is right here—by my side, yes, but safe.”

“I’ll… try to remember that,” you replied, your cheeks warming as you chuckled softly. “But, uh… no promises.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira moved gracefully, fending off an ambusher with seasoned ease, her movements fluid as water. But the sheer ferocity of her attacker—the way he managed to nearly land a blow on her—made your heart seize. Without a second thought, instinct took over, and you called on your druidic power, feeling yourself shrink, bones reshaping, limbs twisting and elongating as you transformed into something small but determined.

A ferret. Not exactly a predator, but quick, nimble, and with a good set of teeth.

You darted toward the attacker, making a quick jump onto his leg. Your tiny claws sank into his trousers as you latched onto him, gnashing at his ankle with all the strength you could muster. Startled, the man yelled, trying to shake you off, but you held fast, each nip and scratch biting into his skin enough to pull his focus away from Jaheira.

In those precious seconds, Jaheira swept her staff low, knocking his feet out from under him, and as he toppled, she caught him with a forceful, well-placed blow to the chest, sending him sprawling. He fell, dazed and defeated, as Jaheira took a steadying breath, straightening up.

As you released his leg and scurried toward her, Jaheira glanced down, a bemused but soft expression gracing her face.

“Well, now. Where did you come from, little one?” She crouched down, extending her hand, a gentle curiosity in her eyes as if meeting an unexpected ally.

For a moment, you simply stared up at her, feeling a strange thrill of pride for having helped in your own small way. But as she reached down to pet you, you took a breath, concentrating on the familiar shape of your true form, willing the fur to fade and your limbs to shift back.

In a heartbeat, you were standing before her again, back to your normal self, a little breathless from the shift but proud all the same.

Jaheira took a sharp breath, her eyes widening in surprise. “You…” She straightened up, looking you over with the smallest, faintest smirk tugging at her lips. “A druid too, are you?”

You nodded, cheeks warming as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yes. Though… I never told anyone because, well, I can only shift into… smaller animals,” you admitted, feeling a touch sheepish. “Ferrets, mice… I’m not exactly intimidating.”

Jaheira’s lips curved into a gentle smile, her eyes softening as she studied you with a newfound respect.

“Not intimidating, perhaps, but brave.” She lifted a hand to your shoulder, her touch grounding, strong. “You put yourself in harm’s way to help me. You have no idea how rare a thing that is, even among friends.”

Relief washed over you, her acceptance warming you as much as her praise. “I just… couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I know I’m not much help in a fight, but I wanted to do something.”

She let out a soft chuckle, her thumb brushing your shoulder reassuringly. “You did more than enough. You saw danger, and instead of running, you faced it. That, my love, is more than many would dare.”

Her words brought a smile to your face, the fear and tension fading. Jaheira reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear with a fondness that made your heart flutter.

“Though next time,” she murmured with a wry grin, “perhaps give me a bit of warning before launching yourself into a fight. I would hate to squash my brave little ferret underfoot.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of her touch. “I’ll do my best,” you promised, reaching for her hand.

She squeezed your hand, her eyes meeting yours with a look of quiet admiration. “Whatever shape you take, you will always be welcome at my side.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I felt like I haven't done the girls in agessssssss and i absolutely loved writing this, I hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

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

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 5

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

~~~

Author’s Note: This is becoming longer than expected, but I’m grateful for everyone staying on for the ride.

(Btw. When I’m writing, I’m imagining this with my own Tav, but I’ve been trying to keep it GN.)

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… now you do.

You’ve finally made a decision on how to handle it, but it turns out it might not be that easy to actually do as planned.

And then you go and make it even worse.

~~~

“Tav, wake up.” A hand on your shoulder tries to gently rouse you awake. “Tav, come on. It’s time to go.”

“Nooo, just let me sleep.” You were having such a nice dream. The details are a bit fuzzy, but you remember a body on top of you. Lips, hands, teeth. Warmth.

“You go on ahead, I will make sure our fearsome leader gets back to camp in one piece.”

Astarion. That fucker. He’s the reason why you are like this. Still half-asleep, still half-drunk. “No, not you.”

Someone — Karlach? — mumbles something.

“Go.” Astarion again. “I’ve got this.”

Perhaps if you ignore him, he’ll go away.

“Tav, darling, get up.”

The nerve. “Don’t call me that.”

“Stop acting like a baby and I will consider it.”

That has you finally opening your eyes and sitting up. “I can get back on my own.” In a bit, anyway.

“Perhaps.” Astarion steps up to you and holds out a hand. You can’t see his smug smile in the darkness, but you have no trouble imagining it. “Not sure we should risk it though.”

Just as you take his hand, it dawns on you that you finally have him alone. It’s just you and him, with nothing to interrupt your conversation.

Except you’re far from sober and in a bloody awful mood, to boot.

Feeling his fingers grasping yours, the arousal sparked by the dream stirs awake again. For a few heartbeats, you do nothing but stare at this beautiful man, this wonderful, enraging man.

Everything that has been bubbling inside you comes to a head, overwhelming you until the only thing you can do is tug him closer.

“Kiss me?” You know you’re doing it again, distracting yourself, but you’re feeling too much and the only thing that can make your mind go blissfully blank is him.

“Tav, darling.”

“Please.”

“I never could say no to you…”

There’s a strange note of exasperation in his voice, but you have no time to reflect on it when Astarion gets down on his knees and cups your face oh-so-gently. The kiss is unexpectedly fierce, matching the turmoil inside you.

“Astarion, I…” You dive back in before you say something foolish.

Sex with Astarion has never been boring, but there’s a new level of recklessness to it as you both tear at your clothes and give yourself to each other. You will probably have a bruise or two tomorrow — as will he — but it’s exactly what you need; it’s as if he knows what you crave even though you can’t voice it out loud. A part of you mourns that this doesn’t mean as much to him as it does to you — that you don’t mean as much to him as he does to you. Even as you scream his name in pleasure, sadness lingers in the outskirts of your mind, tainting the satisfaction and exhilaration.

The moon and the stars watch over you as Astarion drags you into his arms, both panting from exhaustion after your mutual climax. Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you revel in the feeling of intimacy, lying like this.

Inhaling, you take comfort in the scents you’ll forever associate with him: bergamot, rosemary, brandy. Blood. It’s faint, but it’s there, beneath his perfume.

You go still. Blood. He didn’t bite you. Even if he doesn’t always drink from you, he always bites you during sex.

But not this time. Why? Whatever the reason, it makes you feel rejected. Not good enough.

Perhaps he only slept with you out of pity.

“I must say I am pleasantly surprised, Tav,” Astarion purrs. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to invite Gale to your tent.”

“Perhaps I was.” It’s a lie, one you will have to make sure doesn’t reach Gale’s ears. You should take it back, but you’re hurting too much to be sensible. “Still could.”

“Him?”

“He’s a nice man.” Too nice for you. “And if he could bag a god, he’s probably good in bed too.”

Astarion sits up to stare at you. “You must be joking.”

“Why?” You feel cold, naked, and not just physically. Reaching for your clothes, you turn your back to him and try to put them on. Easier said than done. “We haven’t made any promises to each other.”

Astarion rises too and places his hands on his hips, unbothered by his state of undress. “I know, but–”

“I’ve seen you, with the others. I know. And it’s fine.” Even in the darkness, it’s difficult to face him, but you force yourself to do so. To stand your ground while you do this. “At least it was fine.”

“You are not making any sense, Tav.”

You’re too worked up to notice the note of desperation in his voice. “I saw you tonight, with the others, and I realised I’ve had enough.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, but you can’t stop yourself now. “We should end this.”

“What? Why?”

You ignore his obvious confusion. “I know you only propositioned me to make sure you’d be under my protection.”

“I–” Astarion sounds taken aback. “Yes, that’s true, I guess, but listen, Tav–”

“Don’t worry, for as long as you stay with us, I’ll never let anyone harm you.”

“So that’s it?”

He sounds hurt, but it’s most likely just his wounded pride. “I’m sure you can find comfort in the arms of Halsin or Shadowheart.” Or both.

“As you will with Rath and Gale, you mean?”

The bitterness has you frowning. He has no right because as you said, neither of you made any promises. “Maybe, maybe not. That’s none of your business, is it?”

You wish you could see his face more clearly, but it’s probably for the best that the night hides his expression. The silence feels heavy as you wait for several pounding heartbeats for his reply. A wildly optimistic part of you hopes that he will object, that he will tell you how wrong you are.

When he finally speaks, it’s nothing more than a whisper. “I guess not.” Without another word, he grabs his scattered clothes, tucks them under his arm and walks away, leaving you behind in the smothering darkness.

~~~

[pagesfromthevoid]

Sparks Fly | r. | IX

Rolan x Sorceress!Tav

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Canon violence, murder (is it murder is its Lorroakan tho?)

Author's Note: Enjoy Rolan realizing that Tav and her friends are not as organized as he imagined.

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The sun is still down when Tav wakes up. She’s laying on her side, facing the rest of the room. Her companions are tucked into their beds around her, sleeping soundly for the first time in ages. She’s warm –unusually warm, but it’s not uncomfortable. There’s a weight against her chest –an arm, more like, and she fidgets a bit before turning over.

Rolan is fast asleep, one arm tucked under his head and the other wound around her like a vice. They’re both half naked from the night before, but she doesn’t mind as she traces her fingers along the ridges of his chest once again. He stirs a bit, but not enough to wake, and Tav can’t help but marvel at how peaceful he seems to be in his sleep. Tav suspects that Rolan has never actually felt a day of peace in his life –not that she knows much about him (a fact that she intends to remedy as soon as she can). But between the horrors of Elturel and Avernus and now his journey to Baldur’s Gate…well, it’s easy to assume life has not been kind to the wizard.

She slips out of his hold –though his tail is wrapped tightly around her ankle and she has to coax it to free her –and picks up her tunic, slipping it over her head. He turns over in the bed, facing the wall and away from her, and she stands up quietly and stretches. Her joints crack and her muscles protest being awoken so early. But she ignores them and steps out of the room, onto the balcony that accompanies their suite.

What she does not expect to find is Astarion, sitting on the ledge, with a glass of wine in his hand. She forgot that elves –and vampires, perhaps? –don’t sleep like others do and she lets out a surprised yelp when she spots him.

“Hells, Astarion,” she breathes, leaning against the balcony as she catches her breath. “I didn’t think anyone was out here.”

“Surprise,” he says simply, holding up his cup. He doesn’t look at her as he scans the city skyline. “Did you sleep well?”

“I…did, actually,” she admits, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “I take it you haven’t found yourself in bed yet?”

“Oh, you know me,” he waves off her concern, sipping his wine again. “And how was your evening with your devil, Anastasiya?”

“If you’re asking me to kiss and tell, you won’t get it,” she teases, looking back out over the city as well.

“Please, I don’t need you to tell me anything –if you had done anything scandalous, I’d be able to smell it in your blood.”

“That explains why you’re always hovering over Isobel and Aylin,” she concludes, reaching out for his wine. Astarion hands it to her without question. 

“If you must know, I ‘hover’ over the cleric and her lover because Aylin says the strangest things and it’s incredibly entertaining.” 

Tav laughs, nearly choking on the wine, before setting the glass on the ledge. “That’s so fair, honestly.”

“Speaking of Dame Aylin and her entertaining ways,” he continues, reaching out to snag his wine back. “Are we going to kill the wizard or not?”

“We are,” Tav responds without hesitation, looking at Astarion from the corner of her eye. Her voice is stiff, and she knows that she’s coming across as Tav in Charge, as Karlach would say. But if she’s making any executive decisions on behalf of her party –then this would be it. “If not because Aylin is a person and does not deserve to be caged again –then for Rolan, who does not deserve to be abused for no other reason than a narcissist’s ego mania.”

“I do enjoy when you give into your Drow nature,” Astarion grins, flashing his fangs in a gleefully predatory way.

“You do know I am not from a Lolth-Sworn Drow family, right?” She asks, brow raised as she reaches out for the wine again. “My family are Seldarine Drow –far less violent than, say, Minthara’s family would be.”

Astarion shrugs, passing the glass back to her as he returns his gaze to the city. “Then perhaps Minthara is simply rubbing off on you.”

“Or Lae’Zel.”

“Or Shovel.”

“Or you.”

Astarion barks out a laugh, nodding in agreement as Tav smirks at him. They sit for a while longer, watching as the sun peaks over the horizon. There’s soft sounds of people getting up coming from inside, and Tav is about to excuse herself to crawl back into Rolan’s arms so he does not wake alone (and because she simply wants to lay with him once more, really). But then Astarion murmurs something about missing the sun when all this is over, and Tav watches him with a sad smile, reaching out to take his hand. She promises to find a way to ensure he’s able to join them in the sunlight, and she hopes Astarion knows she’s very serious.

*****

Rolan only wakes because there’s shouting, then doors slamming, then the distinct scent of sulfur. He rouses from the bed, taking note that he’s still in Tav’s bed –but she’s not with him. Instead of panic or fear, however, he settles that she’s an early riser and is probably the culprit of the yelling. He sits up and reaches for his shirt, which is folded neatly at the foot of the bed for him. A piece of parchment lays beside it.

I’ll be back soon.

He slips his shirt over his head, then stares at the paper for a moment, memorizing how truly terrible Tav’s penmanship is. He wonders if it’s simply because she was in a rush, or if she truly writes like someone who was never taught how. 

“Good morning, Rolan,” Wyll greets happily from the sitting area, setting up a meal. 

Rolan notes that there are far less people in the room than there should be. Shadowheart is gone, as well as Gale and Lae’Zel. 

“Where is everyone?” He asks, making his way over to where the warlock sits. 

Karlach is sauntering over with Jaheira and Minthara, who are looking between each other like they have a secret. 

Rolan has a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“Where is Anastasiya?” He asks, more firm this time. But he fears he knows the answer already.

“Mate, she’ll be back soon –promise. Tav just wanted to –,” 

But Rolan is cutting Karlach off, turning on his heel to look between the tiefling, Drow and Harper. “Tell me she didn’t go to Ramazith’s Tower.”

“I think you know she did, wizard,” Jaheira points out, and Rolan is half running to gather his robes.

“It will do you well to not interfere, devil,” Minthara interjects, though she is seemingly disinterested in the whole ordeal. “Anastasiya is suited for combat and revenge. Take her desire to kill the wizard for you as a compliment.”

And he does take it as a compliment –very truly, he does. But he does not want to be saved by her again. He wants to put a stop to Lorroakan himself. Or with her, at the very least. How could she take off without him? 

Wyll is trying to calm him down, rationalizing that Tav just doesn’t want to put Rolan in danger. But he doesn’t care about being in danger. He cares about being coddled as if he cannot fight his own battles. However, Karlach is pushing him towards the door.

“They just left, you can catch’em if you run!” She’s urging, tossing his quarterstaff to him as he’s trying to fasten his robes and move at the same time. 

By the time he makes it out of the Elfsong and through the throng of people entering Sundries, Tav and her companions are stepping through the portals at the top of the stairs. He yells after her –both in anger and fear that she’s about to get herself killed –but she doesn’t hear. He groans and misty steps to the portal himself, practically tripping in behind her as Lorroakan rises from his gaudy throne of books.

Rolan freezes as the woman from Last Light –who he believed was Selune herself, with her wings and armor and terrifying beauty –lands gracefully before his master. Tav approaches with the woman, eyes on Lorroakan as if she doesn’t know Rolan is just feet behind her.

“What have we here?” She asks, voice low and menacing. “A magician in a tower, hiding away from the frightening world. What are you so scared of, magus?” Lorroakan glances at Rolan, his eyes twitching, as the woman continues speaking. “Not the Nightsong, surely –why, she’s nothing but a relic to be purchased and pursued.”

His stomach drops as she speaks, and Rolan realizes now that this woman –she is not Selune, but she is what his master has been seeking for weeks now. 

“My gods,” he croaks out, and he feels like he’s going to throw up as he considers how complicit he has been in the search for a person this whole time. “The Nightsong is a person?”

Tav looks behind her now, turning to face him –eyes wide. “Rolan, you shouldn’t –,”

“At last,” Lorroakan begins, smiling that false, unnerving smile he gives anyone that he’s trying to lure in. “There you are, my dear –,”

“You will address me with due deference,” the woman snaps at him, “I am Dame Aylin. And you are a whelp without honor, without pride, with nothing but a tower full of trinkets.”

“My apologies, Dame Aylin,” his master continues, though there’s not an ounce of remorse in his tone. “I meant no disrespect. I asked our friend here to make an introduction –so that I may get to meet the famed daughter of Selune. Perhaps, then, our friend can do what they came here to do?”

“I thought wizards were meant to be smart,” Tav says, stepping forward. Her hand is resting on the hilt of her sword. “I came here to stop you, asshole. I warned you what would happen.”

“My steel-hearted friend speaks true,” Dame Aylin adds in, clenching her fists at her sides. “Give me one good reason, magus, why I should not strike you down where you stand.”

“You must understand, Dame Aylin,” Lorroakan insists, stepping towards the sigils that Rolan had spent many hours drawing himself. “I have found a way to harness your immortality. To share it with the world.”

“You wish to cage me once more,” Dame Aylin snarls, wings unfurling in rage.

“Boy, at the ready,” Lorroakan orders him, pointing now at the circle. “Once I take control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes!”

“No,” Rolan practically growls, stepping in front of Dame Aylin. Perhaps the daughter of Selune could protect herself fine, but he was complicit in this plan and he would be damned if he let her come to harm because of that. “I would never have assisted you if I knew you planned such…horrors.” He can feel Tav and her companions eyes on his back, but Rolan refuses to look back. “You liked to get the Nightsong –to get Dame Aylin here. Made us all believe she was nothing but a relic.

“But I have seen what true leadership can accomplish,” he glances back at Tav, whose brows are furrowed but there’s something akin to pride in her eyes. “It was never under your tutelage, however.”

“Watch your tongue, you child!” Lorroakan snarls, pointing at him. “I could make it such that no wizard in the realm will touch you.”

“If they’re all like you, then I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.”

Dame Aylin cackles, throwing her hands out to her sides. “Ho! Face us, charlatan. We who detest you so.”

Tav is grabbing Rolan’s hand and yanking him behind her, pulling her sword out with the other hand. Lorroakan summons his Myrmidons, and soon they’re taken to battle. Rolan hasn’t seen Tav and her companions fight before –not in person. He’s heard stories and imagined how they fought many times before; had nightmares over Tav losing her battles. But seeing them fight now…It was…

Well, the best way to describe it was chaotic.

Rolan is thrown off entirely by how out of sync they all are with one another. That is not to say that they are not highly effective in what they are doing, but they are not working together like he imagined they would. Instead, Tav is summoning elementals to harass the Myrmidons while Gale is trying to entangle Lorroakan in vines. Shadowheart is healing everyone within reach and Lae’Zel is slashing her way through anything that comes near. Dame Aylin is simply doing her own, very alarming, attacks and Rolan is wondering what on earth he’s supposed to do first.

But Tav backs into him, casting magic missiles at Krank, taking the armor out without issue. “You gotta do something or you gotta run,” she orders, pushing him out of the way as Lorroakan’s elemental retort fires back towards Gale. 

“He gets his power from the Myrmidons,” Rolan warns, then he turns to face Tav, calling out, “Mactē virtutē!” 

She gasps, looking around her for a moment. Rolan determines that she’s fine now without him, and makes his way around the perimeter, casting his mage armor on everyone else around him. Slowly but surely, they’re taking down each of the Myrmidons, taking away the power that Lorroakan desperately relies on to be as strong as he pretends to be.

By the time only one of the Myrmidons is left, Shadowheart has depleted her ability to heal everyone at once, and is trying to make her way to everyone one by one. Gale is struggling and Tav is relying on her sword over her magic, nearly collapsing when Lorroakan’s elemental retort strikes her in the chest. Even with the mage armor protecting her, Rolan can tell it knocks the wind out of her and he yells out in a panic, rushing to shield her from another blow.

“Detono!” He yells out, throwing his hands out in front of him. 

Time is slowed down now; Dame Aylin and Lae’Zel are taking the final blows on the Myrmidon, and Shadowheart is trying to heal Gale, who has collapsed himself. Lorroakan is caught off guard, and the spell suddenly throws him over the ledge of the platform, where he lands with a crack. Tav is on her knees, holding her chest, staring up at Rolan with wide eyes. And Rolan is staring at the ledge where Lorroakan has disappeared, heart pounding in his chest. 

“Holy shit,” Tav rasps, and everything is speeding back up around him again. 

She’s falling over to her side, rolling onto her back as she coughs. Rolan is dropping to his knees beside her, looking her over for any worse damage than the broken ribs he’s sure she has. Shadowheart and Lae’Zel are helping Gale up, uncorking a stronger potion than usual and handing it over to him. Dame Aylin has flown to the floor where Lorroakan’s body is and when she returns, she is grinning triumphantly.

“The urchin is dead,” she announces, and she’s clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You have done well, young wizard. It was a magnificent end to a lowly bastard’s life.”

“He’s dead,” Rolan repeats as Tav is pushing herself back up into a sitting position. Rolan can feel her eyes on him but he’s staring at the ledge again. He almost doesn’t believe it; afraid that it’s a trick or a test or something insane because that’s what Lorroakan was –insane. 

“I thought…I thought all of this –everything he did to me –was some sort of test,” he whispers, looking down at Tav now, who is uncorking a potion and downing it. She lowers the bottle from her lips, though, and gives him her full attention. “It had to be –I thought it was the price I had to pay to be a true wizard. But I realize now…he was just…a sick, sick man.

“I realize now,” he continues, looking up at her companions as they gather around them. “If I want to be a great wizard, I’ll need to do it myself.”

“You have the means here,” Tav points out, finishing off her potion and fishing out another, holding it out to him. “After all, Ramazith’s Tower has a new master.”

Rolan’s brows furrow as he takes the potion from her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she grins, reaching up to touch his cheek. “All hail Rolan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower.”

[quizzievivicalavellan]

Rescue

In which a brush with danger leads to Aster being gravely injured and true feelings coming to light. Takes place after Gale's attempt at flirting in Act II. Pretending that there aren’t multiple super-easy ways to revive dead party members because it really kills the tension lol.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53341882/chapters/146060362

***********************************************

Internally, Gale was kicking himself. The effect a brush with danger has on one’s desire for other forms of stimulation? Seriously? What had he been thinking?

Well, he knew what he had been thinking.

Ever since Elminster’s visit to their campsite, Gale’s mind was seemingly capable of focusing on only two subjects. One, the great and terrible burden Mystra had so dispassionately thrust upon him. The other, her. While his feelings toward her had been strong before, in the wake of his impending mortality, they had become all-consuming. Her every action, every part of her, endeared her to him further. The practiced flick of her wrist as she called down lightning. The dimple in her left cheek when she smiled. The way she quietly whistled birdsongs during their long walks. As he had said earlier whilst thoroughly embarrassing himself, he found her quite irresistible.

Unfortunately, now more than ever, he doubted that she shared similar feelings. All the way back at the Grove, when he had offered to teach her a bit of magic, he had seen her imagine kissing him through their connection in the Weave, and it had sparked some hope that she might be interested in him. In their travels since, their conversations had been easy and sometimes casually flirtatious, but if she did have deeper feelings, she had not acted on them. And now, ever since they had entered the Shadow-Cursed Lands, she had grown increasingly distant. He saw that lovely smile of hers less and less. In this dismal place, so close to the looming threat of Moonrise Towers, her burdens must have felt heavier than ever, and it pained him that he could no longer lighten them with a joke or a reassuring word. One of the few things he had been able to offer her, and now even that was not enough.

And that dreadfully worded confession certainly had not helped. She had smiled, likely out of pity or embarrassment, but it had not reached her eyes. As kind as she was, she likely just didn’t have the heart to let him down gently.

Gale looked ahead and realized he had fallen behind while wallowing in self-pity. Halsin’s torch at the front of the group had shrunk to a small glowing dot in the endless shadow. Halsin and Aster were at the head of the party, looking for signs of where they might find the other half of Thaniel. Gale was supposed to be in the middle with Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but they had moved well ahead of him by now. Karlach and Wyll had stayed behind to strategize with Jaheira as Karlach got used to the adjustment Dammon had made for her mechanical heart. Which, at the rear of the party, left…

“So, Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?” Astarion asked as he appeared from the shadows.

Ah, speak of the devil. Or the vampire, in this case. Gale started in spite of himself at the rogue’s sudden appearance.

“Not very well, I take it, given that abysmal display. You know, I could give you some pointers; I am very good at that sort of thing,” Astarion bragged with a self-satisfied smile.

Gale groaned. “So you heard that, I take it.”

Astarion laughed. “Every word, unfortunately for you.”

“Just wonderful,” Gale replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. As if it weren’t enough to embarrass himself in front of her, it seemed everyone had witnessed his humiliatingly poor attempt at flirtation. Begrudgingly, Gale admitted to himself that he was envious of the way Astarion was so effortlessly smooth and confident, but he was wary of any offer of help from the duplicitous rogue.

“And why exactly would you help me?” Gale asked, raising a dubious eyebrow.

“At first, it was amusing to watch you two make longing puppy-dog eyes at each other, but at this point it’s just sad,” Astarion replied, absently twirling a knife in his hand. “Without someone to intervene, I fear your mutually oblivious pining would go on forever.”

“Mutual…?”

“Oh, Gale. I know from… experience when an individual is attracted to someone, and it is quite obvious that she likes you. Now, as to why, I have absolutely no idea –”

Just as Gale was rolling his eyes in response, Astarion was interrupted by a shout from ahead. The two of them broke into a run. Gale called upon the Weave, preparing for a fight, but his human eyes had trouble picking out their attackers in the dark.

When they caught up to the others, the fight was already in full swing. A horde of shadows and their cursed Harper victims had ambushed them. Lae’zel was cutting through enemies with ease, Shadowheart struck down shadows with her radiant cleric magic, and Halsin in bear form clawed viciously at the attackers, but more and more kept spilling out of the darkness.

Aster had been calling on her druid magic over nature, but these cursed lands weakened her power, and she was quickly surrounded. Just as he lost sight of her, an owlbear erupted from amidst the circle of shadows and Harpers. He had never seen her take the shape of an owlbear before, and the sight of the massive creature rending attackers with beak and claws was striking to behold.

Just as she had started turning the tide of the battle, however, the shadows redoubled their attack against her, and it proved too much. She began losing hold of her form, a new wild shape not yet mastered, now writhing in agony as a gruesome, twisted amalgamation of owlbear and gnome.

“Aster!” Gale cried out in a pained voice and rushed toward her, incinerating every enemy in his path. By the time he reached her she had lost hold of the shape entirely and was lying unconscious on the ground, covered in blood and bruises.

The others were rushing over to help, but Gale warned them to stay back with an outstretched hand. He drew upon the Weave, summoning immense power and channeling it out into a massive fiery explosion. The shadows and Harpers disintegrated, and the swath of cursed forest in front of them had been reduced to ash.

With the threat eliminated, he knelt down beside her, getting a closer look at her injuries. It did not look good. She was badly hurt, with multiple gashes bleeding heavily, and her breathing was shallow. Please be alright, he thought, I’m sorry I did not get her faster, I should have- I- I’m sorry…

“Shadowheart, can you…?” Gale managed to say around the lump in his throat.

Shadowheart nodded, and her hands began to glow with her divine cleric abilities. She passed her hands over Aster’s body. The bleeding slowed and her breath steadied, but she did not awaken.  

“I have healed the worst of her injuries, but she needs rest. We should get back to Last Light Inn as quickly as possible,” Shadowheart said when her work was finished.

Halsin had started to reach out his thick, strong arms to lift her up, but Gale beat him to it. Gently, he slid one arm under her knees and the other beneath her back and raised her off the ground. Even being a gnome, she was lighter than he expected, taking little effort even for his far thinner arms to lift her. She looked so small and fragile there collapsed in his arms. Guilt washed over him again for falling behind, for not protecting her from those creatures. He promised himself then that if she made it through this, please, please make it through this, he would keep her safe. He would protect her, whatever the cost. 

“Follow me, I know the fastest path back to the inn,” Halsin said, once again lifting his torch high into the air. Before starting off, he placed one of his large hands on Gale’s shoulder and gave him an empathetic smile.

“Shadowheart is a skilled healer,” he said in a soft, reassuring tone, “She will be fine.”

Gale could only pray that he was right.

*********

Everything hurt. Aster’s eyelids felt as heavy as bricks as she struggled to open them, and the bright candlelight that peeked through felt like it was stabbing into her skull. She tried to sit up but groaned at the sharp pain the movement sent through her ribs.

She felt the gentle press of a hand against her shoulder, encouraging her to stay still. She managed to open her eyes the rest of the way and turned her head toward the hand. Gale was there sitting next to her.

“Aster, thank goodness you’re awake,” he said, the relief in his voice almost palpable, but with a twinge of worry still present. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve –” Aster winced, trying to sit up again, “been better.”

She felt the soft push on her shoulder again. “Rest there, don’t try to move. I brought some things for you – potions to help with the pain, a blanket if you’re cold, or a cool cloth if you’re feverish, an extra pillow –” he rambled.

“The potion would be nice,” Aster interrupted.

“Of course. Here.” She felt the rim of a glass vial against her lips and swallowed the sweet, viscous potion.

“Mmm,” Aster moaned pleasantly, the effects of the potion already taking hold. A soothing warmth spread through her, taking the edge off the pain and clearing her thoughts. “Thank you. That feels much better.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Gale asked.

Aster noted the sticky feeling the potion had left in her mouth. “Some water would be nice, if you have some.”

“Water, of course! Why did I not think to – I’ll go fetch some. Rest there, I will return shortly,” he said, already halfway out the door before he finished speaking.

“You don’t –” have to, Aster had started to say, but he was already gone. A few moments later, two others entered the room.

 “Hey soldier!” Karlach greeted, “Good to see you awake.”

“How are you feeling?” Wyll asked as the two of them sat down beside the bed. “When the others brought you to the inn, you were in bad shape. I’m sorry we weren’t there.”

Aster waved away the unnecessary apology. “I feel better than when I first woke.” She sat up to both test and prove her point. It still sent a stab of pain through her side, but it was much more tolerable now. “What happened? How long was I asleep? I remember an ambush… and then I woke up here.”

“Yes, you were ambushed by shadows,” Wyll answered, “Halsin said you changed into an owlbear, but could not hold the shape, and those hideous creatures got the better of you. Gale incinerated them and the party rushed you back to the inn. You’ve been unconscious for hours.”

“Poor Gale,” Karlach added, “He’s been absolutely beside himself. He’s only left this room to go get things for when you woke up. You know he carried you the whole way back here? It’s sweet, how he cares about you.”

Aster smiled shyly and felt warmth in her cheeks, touched to learn of Gale’s rescue and by his attentiveness in looking after her.

Wyll cleared his throat, “Perhaps this is not the time or the place, but I have to ask, I get the feeling that you care for him too. Am I correct?”

Aster nodded and looked away, embarrassed that her feelings were so obvious.

“Have you told him that?” Wyll pried further.

“Not exactly…”

“Why not?” Karlach asked. “Gale may be a genius about some things, but I have a feeling he wouldn’t recognize flirting if it smacked him in the face. I wouldn’t wait for him to make the first move.”

“It’s… complicated,” Aster replied, loathe to explain her reservations, fears, and insecurities. However, looking at how eager Karlach and Wyll looked for her to continue, she supposed she would not get away with that answer. Perhaps it would do her some good to talk about all the worries that had been plaguing her.

“Well, for starters, there’s his tumultuous relationship and fallout with Mystra. It has not been long since things turned sour, and it devastated him. I worry that he is just looking for someone to… fill the void she left. And how am I meant to compare to a goddess?”

“That fucker that asked him to kill himself for her? I’d say you’ve got her beat by a mile,” Karlach replied indignantly.

Wyll gave Karlach a look before sharing his own advice. “Love is not something to be compared; each is its own unique and beautiful thing. And it is clear to me that he loves you, truly, not as a replacement, but as yourself.”

Aster smiled at her friends’ reassurances, but a deeper fear still weighed on her. “Mystra’s task for him worries me as well. I’m afraid I will not be able to convince him not to go through with it. And I’m afraid that if we – if we become something more to one another…” Her throat felt tight, making it harder to speak, and tears stung her eyes. “then it will… it will hurt even worse to lose him.”

“Oh, Aster, come here,” Karlach said with open arms, and Aster accepted the offered hug gratefully. “I know losing someone hurts. But take some advice from someone who’s living on borrowed time herself. Do you know the thing I want most for the time I have left?”

Aster shook her head.

“To not have any regrets. The best we can do is live fully, to embrace whatever opportunities life gives us.”

Wyll nodded. “As the saying goes, ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never loved at all.’ Regret eats at the soul like nothing else does.”

And they were right. If she opened up to him, let herself love and be loved in return, then she would always have the memories of the time they had together, even if the worst happened. Otherwise, she would still be left to suffer the pain and loss, along with the grief for what could have been.

Aster wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you. You are the best friends anyone could ask for.” She hugged them both again.

“Aww, so are you!” Karlach replied, hugging her a little too tight in return.

“Always happy to be there for a friend,” Wyll said as he returned her embrace.

At that moment, Gale arrived at the door, jug of water in hand. “Sorry I took so long,” Gale said as he handed the jug over to Aster, who took a long, refreshing swig.

“Well, glad to see you’re feeling better. Karlach and I will go tell the others you’re awake,” Wyll said, getting up from one of the chairs beside the bed.

“Yeah, we’ll go do that,” Karlach added, following Wyll out the door. “No need to hurry though, just take our time…” She winked at Aster as she left.

Gale sat back down next to the bed. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yes, thank you. Those potions work wonders.”

“Good, good. Glad to hear it.”

They sat there in awkward silence for a moment before Aster worked up the nerve to tell him how she really felt and apologize for how distant she had been lately, spurred on by her conversation with Wyll and Karlach.

 “There’s… something I want to tell you,” Aster said, taking one of Gale’s hands in her own.

“I want to tell you something too, I…” the pause was so long that Aster spoke again, only then they were both talking at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” they both blurted out in unison.

“For what?” they asked, once again at the same time.

Aster chuckled, which caused the pain in her side to flare up again, and the chuckle turned into a wince.

“I’m sorry,” Gale said again, clearly referring to the laughter-induced pain this time.

“You said that already,” Aster replied with a more careful chuckle. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I was distracted earlier, when we were looking for Thaniel. I fell behind the group, wasn’t paying attention… I should have been in position; maybe then you would not have been hurt like this. I’m sorry, I should have done more to keep you safe.” Gale said, clasping both hands around hers.

“There is nothing to apologize for. Things happen, especially in such perilous situations as we find ourselves in. I hear you were the one who saved me, after all,” Aster said with a coy smile. 

“Still, I am sorry – and relieved that you’re alright. Now, whatever reason do you have to apologize? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I have, though.” Aster took a deep breath, preparing herself to finally open up. “I know I have been… distant and ill-tempered as of late. I’ve been upset and angry about so many things, but that is no excuse to treat you that way, especially when you’ve been having such a difficult time of your own. I’m deeply sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize; it can’t be easy to bear the burdens that have been placed on you: defeating Ketheric, lifting the shadow curse, stopping the Absolute. But know that you can always unburden yourself with me, if you need someone to talk to.”

“You’re too kind,” Aster replied, “Yes, those do weigh on me, and it is difficult to witness the destruction the shadow curse has wrought on nature here. But there is another thing that worries me even more. Mystra… It angers me that she thinks she has any right to ask that of you, and that she could make you feel like she’s right.” Aster felt her ire toward the goddess roiling inside like fire, and her arms shook in anger. “You’re smart, and brave, and talented, and kind, and you deserve so much better than being her sacrifice.”

Gale looked surprised at her response. “I… wasn’t aware it bothered you so much.”

“Of course it does! I care about you, and I – I don’t…” Aster felt the tears pricking at her eyes again. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered, brushing a hand across his cheek. She wanted to peer into his thoughts, see if he was still genuinely considering going through with it, convince him how much she needed him, but she knew that was an invasion of his privacy. She could only show him how much she cared about him and hope that that would be enough.

“I don’t want to lose you, either,” Gale whispered back, leaning closer to her. “I was so worried about you.”

“Then let’s look after each other, and find another way to defeat the Absolute. We can make it through this together, alright?”

“Alright.”

A nervous, anticipatory silence stretched between them, and Aster realized their lips were mere inches apart.

Gale cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. “Well, it’s getting late. I suppose I should let you rest, yes?”

Gale started to stand up, but Aster tugged him back down by his sleeve.

“Wait, I… I haven’t thanked you properly yet for rescuing me.”

“You don’t need to –” Gale started to reply, but Aster cut him off with a kiss. He was clearly surprised at first, but quickly he was kissing her back, their mouths dancing passionately with long-building desire and anticipation of this very moment.

His lips were soft, and he tasted like a fine red wine, rich with a touch of sweetness. There was an arousing electricity to the kiss, as if sparks were literally flying between them, and considering Gale’s magic, that was probably true. It was everything she had imagined and more.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Aster was delighted to see the big, goofy grin on his face, the flush in his cheeks, and his hair tousled out of place by her fingers. He looked happier than he had in a while, and for her part Aster was so elated she felt like she could fly.

“Well,” Gale said in a low, seductive whisper as he leaned in to kiss her again, “remind me to rescue you more often.”

[jellyfitzjelly]

That cloak drabble you wrote..... Incredible 🥺 but I can't stop thinking about Tav going back to camp the next morning, hair disheveled, strands of hay stuck to her, and she's carrying the cloak she strangely woke up with.

Her companions voice their concerns for her absence the previous night then upon closer inspection (and a quick whiff)... it all makes sense 😂

"Ah, did a bit of rolling in the hay I see. Don't know why you'd pick /him/ of all the grove inhabitants but, we all have a type, I suppose." (- cinnasalmon)

LMAOOOO ok i truly love this 😂 [READ ON AO3]

You wake up feeling groggy, with hay sticking in uncomfortable places. You realize there's a cloak wrapped around you. The scent is familiar, but you can't replace it. It is an expensive but worn cloak, heavy and comfortable. It was clearly made for a soldier or a paladin, judging by the Helm patterns at the hem. You like it, but you're confused as to how it got on you.

You rub your eyes and decide to go back to camp. Your companions flock you like a murder of crows on a mice the second you set foot in the camp.

"By Mynstra! Where were you?!" Gale exclaimed.

"And here we were ready to have a funeral for you," Astarion quips with amusement.

"I'm sorry to have worried you. I just wanted to take a nap and...uh, I think it ended up being a night of sleep."

Shadowheart snorts while Lae'zel disapproves, of course.

"Nice cloak, soldier!" Karlach tells you, clasping you on the shoulder...before she sniffs you.

"What are you–"

The tiefling burts out in laughter, to everyone's confusion.

"Guess you had a good night of sleep, uh?" she winks.

You frown, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Tav! The cloak smells right like him!"

"Who? You know whose cloak it is?"

Karlach sighs dramatically, but it's obvious she's enjoying herself.

"Who else but the hot Hellrider?"

"Zevlor?!" you exclaim, shocked.

Wait... This is Zevlor's cloak? Then, that means that he wrapped you in it... You redden as you imagine the scene, as your mind fixates on the touch of his hot hands on you.

"Didn't know you were into older guys!" Karlach teases you.

"I'm not!" you protest impulsively, but no one believes it.

"So, how was it?" Astarion asks. "I've never had a tiefling, you must tell me everything!"

"We didn't do anything, you perverts!"

You march off to your tent, embarrassed, as your companions laugh. It's only when you sit down that you realize that you'll have to give back the cloak. You flush again at the idea of facing Zevlor. He's kind and...well, handsome. There is no denying that. He's a good man, and you feel enraged at the injustice he and his people have faced because of the actions of a selfish man.

Truth be told, you admire him.

Your heart race as you remember his might when you helped him face the goblins at the gate. You bite your lip and shake your head. You need to get on with your day, the morning is becoming noon. You wash yourself and change clothes before you grab the cloak you left in your tent. You remember Karlach's words earlier and you get curious. You bring the cloak to your nose and breathe in. It smells of faint spices, musk, a hint of sweat and of warmth. You didn't know warmth had a smell, but apparently it does, because there is no other way to describe it.

Yeah, it does remind you of Zevlor.

You flush as you realize what you're doing. You go back to the grove with the cloak neatly folded in your arms, heart racing. You tell yourself you're just giving it back and thanking him, no need to be nervous. You enter the cave and find Zevlor poring over his map. You look around but Tilses is nowhere to be found. It might be for the best.

"Ah, Tav!" he smiles as he lifts his gaze from the map. "Hope you slept well."

You can't help but blush. You shift, nervous with bufferfly in your stomach.

"I did, thanks to you. Thank you for the cloak, I'm sorry I am only giving it back now."

The tiefling approaches you with a fond smile, taking the cloak from you with gentle hands.

"Thank you," he tells you warmly.

"Don't mention it," you stammers.

"You should keep it," Zevlor pensively. "It may be more useful to you than to me."

"Oh no!" you vehemently protest. "I won't accept it! You need it, sir!"

"Just Zevlor, Tav," he chides you with obvious fondness. "I am no Commander. Not anymore."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart breaking at the hint of pain in Zevlor's voice.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he reassures you gently. "This isn't your fault."

You shiver as you catch a whiff of the spices of his cologne. Time seems to slow as you look at him. Your gaze drops to his lips and your breath catches in your throat...

"I'm sorry, I couldn't get any meat– Oh! Am I interrupting?" you hear Tilses behind you.

You step back, embrassed by your thoughts and flushing. Before Zevlor can say anything, you stammer:

"Ah, since it's lunch time I'll leave you to it then!"

You turn on your heels and all but run away. You catch Tilses' confused gaze as you speed. The spend the rest of the day cursing yourself. That night, you dream of spices and warmth wrapping around you.

[meowsgirldrawing]

Princess vs Prince (Astarion x Gn-Tav/Reader) WIP

I got 6 pages of this so far HA-

Prompt: The ragtag gang of tadpole holders saves a princess (daughter of a grand duke) from a miserable fate by a monster, then decides to help escort her back to her town. Astarion didn’t mind any of this, but after weeks since his and Tav’s exchange of real affections and confessions, he’s not too keen on allowing her fluttering eyelashes and obvious thing for hero’s to go on any longer.

(Aka-Astarion doesn’t like to share and wants to be the only “royalty” Tav adores)

(Aka-he’s jealous)

Why am I calling Astarion a prince? Because he acts like it besides the gore and vampy stuffz. Plus it makes a fun title.

Note: Tav is a tiefling in this, because I love tieflings so much, but I'm trying to keep it mostly open so people can imagine their Tav's easier. More or less a little self-indulgent on my part.

“Let’s save the little princess, they said!” 

“It’ll be harmless, they said!”

Astarion bristles, leaned up on the tough wood pole that holds up his tent. The pure white pup beside him pays no attention, his gnawing noisy and breaking the air occasionally with happy whimpers. “I mean really??” He manages to keep his words low-ish, but his hand movement, flaring up in mock dismissal, is rather the opposite. “Who does that little minx think she is?-”

“GO WYLL, GO!” Karlach’s booming voice interrupts him. Loud enough that Scratch finally peers up, tail wagging. Oh so you’ll ignore me but as soon as the big fire lady says one word-

Not that Scratch really needs to listen anymore, Astarion trails off, finally resuming on the scene before him. The scene he was so diligently watching for a few reasons only before his disgust came filtering in.

Gale steps up, settling in beside Karlach,  “Do we really need to do this?”

“Have a little fun, Gale,” Tav huffs lightly, playfully, as they snatch up another log and set it up in the stump, axe glinting in the sunlight from their hand.

“Of course we do! Since Tav thought it was oh so wise to comment-“

“It was just a joke, Wyll-“ They try.

“On my “princely-ness” I must show them exactly how prince-like I can be!” His shirtless chest puffs up in confidence, or faux bravo as Tav rolls their eyes and sighs. And that is through a friendly log-chopping competition apparently.

“Tsk’va-“ Lae’zel settles up next to Gale’s side, her eyes focused on the pile beside the two morons. “As long as we get firewood, I don’t care how it’s done.”

Tav nods, grateful “Thank you, sweet Lae’zel. See Gale, it’s harmless my guy!”

Lae’zel does her dismissal words, rolling her eyes. The friendliness form of ‘no problem’ a Githyanki, at least their favorite one, can offer apparently. 

What? No, the competition is certainly not Astarion’s source of disgust. The sight of a bare chested, years of fighting showing in rippling muscles, Wyll going against their broad-shouldered, built in both structured and height Tav, whose upper half is covered by a mere tank top. That is absolutely not it. If anything, he could sit there all day watching both go at it like morons over a simple joke. 

And no, it’s not how he can clearly see the others taking in the sight as well. Gale watches in more amused confusion compared to most, but if you looked harder, his eyes are certainly not straying from either’s form. 

Karlach’s tail wags lightly, while her eyes glim with her hearty laugh. Perhaps if she wasn’t already burning up from her engine, she’d probably be visibly burning up in another way. Still, her focus is on Wyll, amused and thoroughly intrigued.

Lae’zel’s possibly the only one who isn’t doing much leering, but she isn’t so innocent. She goes from watching their forms swing down the axes on Tav’s call to being unable to take her eyes off Tav’s arm stretching out for another log. She huffs but does nothing more besides crossing her arms.

He can’t blame them, not at all, his Tav alone is a sight to behold. Not to mention their overall friendly and sweet persona that takes no real effort, a gentle giant is what he’s heard multiple times by Shadowheart. Added with Wyll, an admittedly gentleman despite his profession at slaying off monster heads, his demeanor also alone can melt the strongest of hearts. 

Pair them together, and you got a nice show to sit back and enjoy. Especially with the banter thrown left and right.

“Ready to give up, Tav? Even by your tail I can tell you’re struggling.” He grins, eyes crickling in mirth.

Tav scoffs, their tail adjusting the log before swinging back to behind them.

“Try me, warrior boy. I’m just getting started!”

“Well-” At the next call, both heave up their axes and slit the wood in two. 4 more added to their respective collections. “So am I, my friend!”

Astarion’s lip quirks, but then turns into a full frown as soon as he hears it again.

A high pitched giggle.

A little ways behind the two competitors, there sits a young woman in a fair and fluttery day gown, dark long locks curled over her shoulder, manicured and well cared for hands trail near her full and red lips as she giggles out her response, “You’re doing just amazing, both of you!”

But her eyes stay on Tav. His Tav.

His lip curls, eyes piercing from the other side of the camp.

There she is, the little princess he and his group just so happen to come across when dealing the final blows on a goblin camp. Annalisa, or rather, Lady Annalisa-Daughter and heir of Duke Salton. Who just so happens to be from the town they planned to head to next before her untimely landing into their group.

[majorasnightmare]

8, 17, 38?

why is writing dialogue for this guy so FUN

thanks for the enabling 🎉💜

8. Companion/romance death reactions

(if Minthara goes down) "KHAL'ABBIL!! Death cannot take you!"

(if Karlach goes down) "Karlach, NO! Hold on, I will find my way to you!!"

(if Astarion goes down) "Wait for me, Astarion, I will find you an ocean of blood to restore you!"

(if Astarion goes down, has not revealed he's a spawn) "Someone got to Astarion! Hunt them down!"

(if Gale goes down) "SHIT, Gale! Someone get Shadowheart, I'll stabilize the Orb!" [note: if shadowheart is no longer a party member, will call for a cleric in same tone of alarm; stabilizing the orb is appended onto line after gale reveals it]

(if Lae'zel goes down) "The pride of the githyanki goes with you. You MUST rise again!"

(if Shadowheart goes down) "Lady of Loss stay your hand, you will NOT take her from me yet!"

(if Shadowheart goes down, has not revealed sharran yet) "Shadowheart!! Stay with us, cleric! I will carve you a bridge back to the land of the living!!"

(if Wyll goes down) "NO, WYLL!! Linger by me yet awhile longer, until you walk by my side again!!" [note: entreating wylls soul to fight the pull of Avernus so that Dirge can see him revived]

(if Halsin goes down) "Halsin!! I care not if the Oak Father calls you home, you must fight by my side another day yet!!"

(if Jaheira goes down) "Jaheira, stay with me!! Who else will walk Baldur's Gate through her next crisis?"

(if Minsc goes down) "Someone killed Minsc? How?!"

(if Tav goes down) "Walk not down that darkened path, until I am there to escort you! Stay with me!"

(if romanced origin(any) goes down) "No hound of death will steal you away, even if I must travel valleys of corpses and an ocean of gore. Hear my voice and wait for my embrace, beloved!!"

17. Looking in a mirror

"Armageddon's prophet. Looking like he needs a cleanup, too."

"I didn't miss a second stab wound... right?"

"🎶Mmm-🎶 Oh. Wait. Can Caiphon see this? Hrm."

38. If a player character asks them to consider consuming tadpoles or using the Astral tadpoles, how would your Tav/Durge respond?

>"How do you feel about using the tadpoles power?"

"Mm. Can't really say I see the risk in it. I mean, yes, theres ceremorphosis, obviously, but whatever is preventing it now will most likely stop it then too."

"Besides, I feel some manner of... experience, with the gifts it offers. Mayhaps in a former life I called such strengths my own? Regardless, if you're in need of a guinea pig to, ah, "test the waters", if you will, I'm happy to volunteer."

"I'm sure I've eaten worse things, anyways."

>"The Emperor has offered us a great power, in the form of the Astral Tadpole. How do you feel about it?

"Mm. And how magnaminous of it to do so. Sorry, I'm being uncharitable. I suppose I'm just feeling a bit... raw, after it's ruse."

"To the matter at hand. Regardless of its motives for offering it, the Astral Tadpole near hums with psionic strength. Even with it ensconced in your belongings, I can feel it. Such delectable power it offers... The question, of course, is of cost."

"We've already been tadpoled, from where I stand the only real cost to be paid will come calling at the end of this sordid affair. I can't imagine the tadpole, thus strengthed, would hesitate to finish a job half started without the Emperor or the Absolute to stay its hand. But if you trust in the strength of your will, I don't see anything we have reason to fear."

->[player has not used tadpole already]

"Besides, my brain is already a mangled mess. If you wish to play cautious, I'll gladly give it a test run in your stead. I certainly have less to lose than the rest of you."

->[player has already used the astral tadpole]

"Besides, my brain is already a mangled mess. And look at what it's done for you. What kind of warlock would I be to leave power like that on the table, hm? How about this. Pass it to me, and if you start sprouting tentacles before I do, I'll only take a nibble before I put you down properly."

>>"That isn't funny." [-2 Dirge Approval]

"Tch. Go ask a clown for a better joke then. Oh, but you will still share won't you? I'll say sorry, if I must, and if you like I can even try to mean it."

[baldurs-gape]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Oh crikey. Five?! I'm usually shy to yell about one, let alone five. How about a compromise? I'll say I'm proud of Shores as a finished fic and Adopt, Don't Shop! as a WIP and then write something a little silly to make up for the fact I am but a socially awkward worm on a string.

All's Fair In War, Not Love

Breaking up had been rough. Initially Gale hadn't been able to afford to move out and the divorce was taking so long to finalise, all assets and funds were tied up in that. Mystra was the breadwinner in their relationship so he had picked up the housework, making sure there was a good meal on the table each evening, the house was neat, tidy and presentable. All while still working where he could. It used to be that he'd be at the university, lecturing and pushing the limits of research but Mystra had trashed those dreams, wrecked his career. Without money, he couldn't move out. Without moving he couldn't get a job in his field again. So he was stuck, working in a gaming cafe. It was how he met his new friends.

Quite how Gale got adopted into the odd bunch who came to play boardgames once a week was beyond him. Somehow though they went from 'oh it's that lot' to 'I am so glad they're here' which was unusual in and of itself. Even more so when they started inviting him out for other forays in their world. Karlach was definitely the most enthusiastic and welcoming of the lot, thrilled at the smallest of things. She had all but squeezed the life out of Gale when he finally accepted an invite for drinks one evening. However, it wasn't actually Karlach who had convinced Gale to go along. It was Astarion who gave Gale one look and smirked.

"Dress to impress and your drinks will be on me for the night, I can't imagine it happening though."

Never one to not rise to a challenge, Gale did his best. Mostly because his wages were just about enough to cover rent of the shitty little flat he'd found but he didn't have a night out factored into his budget. True to his word, Astarion footed the bill for his drinks for the whole night and Gale couldn't remember getting home.

Perhaps he should have been more careful around his new friends. The next time they saw him, they were much more subdued, almost respectful but in the way one is quiet around the bereaved.

"Darling, you live in a shithole," Astarion informed him none too gently.

Words were frozen in Gale's throat, tray with drinks trembling in his hands. Shame coursed through him. He hadn't thought the others would judge which made it sting all the more.

"Gale." Minthara's voice drew him back to the table. "We simply wish to understand better. A man of your education is wasted in an establishment like this."

Clearing his throat, Wyll added, "What we're trying to say is, are you okay?"

"We looked you up," Lae'zel butted in. "You had a career, a future, then you didn't. Why?"

"It's all there in the articles. What more do you want me to say?"

It was Astarion who leaned forward with a cold, calculating smile.

"You forget, I'm a lawyer, Shadowheart a journalist, Wyll has a career in politics. And that's just scratching the surface. Do you really want Lae'zel to go all PI on you? Or Halsin to put his therapy hat on? Maybe Karlach could sit on you while she does all the paperwork for her gym."

"It's an ugly divorce."

Minthara regarded him with renewed interest.

"You say that in present tense. Are the courts looking to rule in her favour for assets?"

The ugly truth came tumbling out. How Gale couldn't bear to live with Mystra when she was already bringing home a string of new men before the divorce was finalised, before they had fully separated. How everything was still an intertwined mess and he was too worried to take anything in fear of being accused to trying to steal. Lips pursed, Minthara listened before nodding.

"It is a story I have heard before, at the women's shelter. We will sort this out. Meet us on the next Sunday."

Whatever it was that took over Gale in that moment, he was both grateful and mortified as he agreed to it. Come Sunday, he was greeted by the eclectic mix of Halsin, Karlach, Minthara and Astarion. They took two cars to his old house and Gale almost lost his nerve. Especially when it wasn't even Mystra who opened the door but some random man.

"Who is it, Lor?" Mystra's voice drifted through.

"I think they're, hm, either Mormons or JWs?"

"Lor, was it?" Astarion pulled his sunglasses off and tucked them into a pocket, pulling out a business card. "We're here on behalf of my client, Mr. Dekarios. There has been some miscommunication about the divorce proceedings which we're here to set right. My valued colleague is here to talk to Mystra about it while the others will help Mr. Dekarios retrieve his belongings."

Lor's eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder towards the living room door. Nervously, he ran a hand over his long hair, twisting the ends a little.

"Look, I knew nothing about this. You can go in if you let me leave."

"You have yourself a deal, Mr-" Astarion looked far too smug and stepped in, making way.

"Lorroakan. But you don't need to remember that, do you?"

"Not at all, Mr. Lorikeet."

Only once the man disappeared did Karlach let out a snort and punched Astarion in the shoulder playfully. However, before either could say anything, Mystra appeared.

"Lorroakan?" Eyes narrowing, she glared at Gale. "What are you doing here? I took your keys."

"I assume you're Mystra." Minthara strode to meet her, looking imposing despite being a whole head shorter. "I'm here to help clarify the law's standing on divorce proceedings with you. Meanwhile, Mr. Dekarios will retrieve what is rightfully his in this household with my associates."

"Fine. Take whatever's yours. The courts will only rule you return it all anyway."

"Allow me to disillusion you," Minthara rasped with bloodthirsty glee.

As they disappeared into the room, it left Gale with the other three. He had no idea where to start. Thankfully, Halsin clasped a warm hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get you through this, it's not our first rodeo."

"Halsin and Karlach can to the heavy lifting. It wouldn't do for me to pull a muscle or break a nail hefting things around," Astarion announced breezily and pulled out a carefull folded bag from his pocket. "I'll meet you at the cars."

Just like that, he was off. It was easier to forget about him when faced with the insurmountable task of moving essentialy his whole life with the help of friends. Clothes were bundled into bags, books piled and carefully balanced as they were carried downstairs. It all went surprisingly quickly. All too soon, Gale was back in Karlach's truck which was stuffed with his belongings, similar to Halsin's car in front of them. Last to get in was Astarion with his mysterious bag that was bulging. He held onto it until they were back at Gale's house.

"She said take whatever's yours," he announced and grandly passed the bag to Gale.

Pulling out items from it, confusion sat heavier and heavier on Gale's chest. First was a roll of toiletpaper. Then another. And another. In fact, he would have guessed it was all the toiletpaper in the house. Under those was a pile of lightbulbs. All carefully wrapped in mismatched socks to keep them from breaking. At the bottom of the bag was quite the collection of batteries.

"Why?" Gale was at a loss for more words.

"You said you'd been in charge of housekeeping so technically those are all yours. But I wasn't sure about the socks, half of them were yours but I didn't know which half. One of each pair seemed like a sensible compromise."

Behind Gale, Karlach began snickering. It evolved into a full on snorting laugh.

"What?"

"Just imagine her this evening. It goes dark. The lights don't work. Can't turn the TV on because the remote is dead. And when she goes to the loo, there's no toiletpaper." Another giggle left Karlach. "She'll curse and grumble but think it's over. Until tomorrow morning when she tries to find a pair of socks to wear."

Slowly, a grin formed on Gale's lips. It was quite the image to consider. He turned to Astarion. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"Darling, I'm wonderful from all sides, thank you."

Annoyingly, he was right.

[its-jaytothemee]

A Burden Shared - Part I: The Fight (1/2)

Pairings: Astarion x Tav, Halsin x Tav, Astarion x Tav x Halsin

Word count: 2,645; Tav and Astarion POVs

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Read on AO3

Next

Summary: A group sparring session turns sour, and Astarion becomes very protective of Tav. Halsin goes to comfort Tav afterwards and ends up confessing some feelings he's had for a while now.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Feelings Confessions, Spoilers for Act 3, Sparring, Protective Astarion, Soft Halsin, Tav needs a fucking hug.

Author's Note: The tadfools get a filler episode. No explicit material yet, but will be present in a later chapter. Part 1 is finished, hopefully part 2 can be uploaded sometime in the next week or so. Will switch between a few character POVs, for now I only have Tav and Astarion. Enjoy! :)

The city was in far worse shape than Tav could have imagined. They arrived in Rivington to find the town overflowing with refugees, learned of Gortash’s impending coronation, and learned that Duke Belynne Stelmane had been murdered. They also found out that Orin was a shapeshifter, capable of taking on the appearance of anyone she wished. Doppelgangers had infiltrated Jaheira’s squad of Harpers, and to add salt to their wounds, Raphael was lurking around Wyrm’s Crossing trying to tempt them into a deal for the Orphic Hammer. They had arrived at the city gates a day and a half ago, and still had no suitable way to get into the lower city.

At the Emperor’s insistence, they all headed to camp early even though it was barely midday. Given the state of the city, they realized that they needed time to re-evaluate their plan of attack. Tav was still unsure of how much trust they could place in the Emperor, but she could feel it mirroring her own anxiety around their surroundings. They trudged back through the muddy roads of Rivington, making their way to their camp on the outskirts of town. An ethereal voice glided into their thoughts.

“I need time to reconsider our approach. Stelmane’s death does not…bode well. Take the time to rest, it is hard to tell when you will be afforded another opportunity to do so.” The Emperor’s voice disappeared from their minds as quickly as it came.

“So, what now? We just go lounge around at camp? Drink wine and not kill anything?” Astarion asked with his typical melodramatic flair.

“We could go back to the circus!” Karlach yelled, running up and throwing an arm around Tav’s shoulders.

“I am not taking any chances of running into more murderous clowns, Karlach.” Astarion shot back, jumping to the other side of Tav and looping his arm through hers.

“I never even got to get my face painted.” Karlach pouted.

“Chk.” Lae’zel was trailing behind the three of them, a sour look on her face “We waste time ‘resting’ when we have no wounds that need healing and our minds are still sharp. We should press on into the city.” She had been particularly critical of Tav lately, their time in the Astral Prism didn’t help with that.

“Easy Lae’zel,” Jaheira chimed in, “if we try to force our way into the city right now, we could attract the wrong kind of attention. I recommend caution.”

“Let’s just head back to camp. We should catch the others up on what we’ve found, and I don’t think we’ll be getting into the lower city right now with Gortash’s coronation so close.” Tav decided.

She was still unsure why they all looked to her for these types of decisions. Ever since they crashed on that beach, she was assumed to be the default leader. Tav had been doing her best to keep this unlikely group of companions together. It helped that they were all really quite fond of one another now. Only a few real fights had broken out amongst their ranks, most of them stemming from varying states of exhaustion and were fixed by a good night’s sleep. With each new ally they recruited, her imaginary authority grew. Even with the addition of Halsin and Jaheira, two wise leaders experienced years beyond Tav, they still looked to her for guidance. To make things worse, it wasn’t even just her camp of companions that was looking up to her. So many of those they had met on their journey here talked about how she was the hero who would save Baldur’s Gate, the hero who would save them all.

But now they had finally reached their destination. Home. Tav was trying to maintain her composure, but she was starting to panic. This was a big city, and they had ticking time bombs in their heads threatening them more and more each day. If they didn’t find out how to take out Orin and Gortash, she doubted the small artefact she carried would still be enough to protect them when an elder brain was unleashed onto the city.

Her brow furrowed as she concentrated, trying to piece together any plan that could get them closer to getting these tadpoles out of their heads. She had some old friends in the City Watch, maybe they could tell her if anything strange had been happening. But there was always a chance that they were loyal to the Absolute as well. She had a contact in the Thieves Guild but would prefer to use them as a last resort only.

“Tav? Tav?”

Astarion’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.

“Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?” She shook her head slightly, trying to bring herself back to the present.

“Just making sure you were still there, darling. You seem…distracted lately.” He smiled softly at her.

“Ah, just the fatigue of a hero. I guess.” She joked, trying to keep the mood light. If they needed her to be a leader, she didn’t want to burden anyone with her worries.

“Now you see why I prefer skulking in the shadows over basking in the spotlight.” He still had his arm looped around hers.

“Well, it’s not like you had much of a choice between shadows and light before, my love.” She teased, leaning into him.

Astarion was about to make a quip in response when they were spotted by Gale at the edge of their new camp.

“You’re all back rather early, that’s not usually a good sign.” Gale’s chipper voice called to them.

“We ran into some unexpected complications.” Tav replied. “We may need a new plan for getting into the city. Wyrm’s Crossing is crawling with Flaming Fist loyal to Gortash. Not to mention all of the murders and the fact that the cult of Bhaal has apparently recruited every shapeshifter in the godsdamned realms.” Her frustration was creeping into her tone. When she looked around, everyone was looking at her again. She let out a small sigh.

“Let’s get everyone gathered, see what we can come up with.”

As everyone gathered in the middle of the camp, Tav debriefed the rest of the group on what they saw in Rivington and Wyrm’s Crossing. Jaheira detailed the encounter at the Harper safehouse, also telling everyone about her search for Minsc of Rashemar. They discussed the multiple murders that included Duke Stelmane. The topic of Raphael was a short one, as pretty much everyone agreed that they should have no dealings with the devil. Finally, Orin was the point of discussion. Bhaal’s bloodthirsty chosen had already proven to be a complication. She could change shape in the blink of an eye, which meant she could be anywhere. Tav tried to listen as everyone talked around her and over each other. She rubbed her heavy eyes, trying to convince the headache she felt coming on to stay away.

“So then, what’s our next step?” Wyll’s voice piped up as everyone finally started to quiet down.

When Tav looked up, she realized all eyes were on her again. She looked around the camp at the tired faces, all waiting for her to tell them what to do. And she had absolutely no idea what that was.

“We uh,” She started, trying to search through the fog clouding her brain, “we need to find a way into the lower city first and foremost. Maybe we can con our way into Gortash’s coronation.”

“What good will it do us to attend a ceremony that is so obviously a farce?” Lae’zel’s commanding voice countered. “We don’t have time to play the political games of your realm. We must press forward into the city as soon as possible.” Her yellow eyes were fixed on Tav.

“The Emperor needs time to figure out how we can get the other two Netherstones. If we just – ” Tav was cut off by Lae’zel.

“I will not wait around to be given orders by a ghaik.” Her tone told Tav that this was not a topic she was willing to discuss.

“What would you have us do Lae’zel? Fight our way through the entire city?” She could hear the exhaustion seeping into her voice. “You saw one of those Steel Watchers, the city is supposedly crawling with them. We’d be lucky if we made it to the Elfsong Tavern."

“Tav is right.” Jaheira spoke up next. “We need to find our way into the city…quietly.” She looked at Lae’zel.

“Chk” Is the only sound they heard in response.

“Why don’t we all just take a rest today?” Tav suggested. “Gods know it’s been long enough since we’ve had more than an hour to relax.”

There were some mumbled sounds of approval, and everyone sort of shuffled off towards different areas of camp. With her small crowd dispersing, Tav finally felt like she could breathe.

“You should take your own advice.” A deep voice called from behind her.

Tav looked over her shoulder to see Halsin leaning against a barrel. She smiled weakly and walked over to him.

“That’s funny, I could have sworn I told you the same thing all those nights ago after the goblin camp.” She teased. He smiled at that, causing her heart rate to pick up a bit.

“Ah, yes. I’m afraid my mind was still rather clouded back then.” He looked back out over the camp. “You’re exhausted, Tav. I see the fatigue in your eyes, I hear the strain in your voice.” His voice was much softer now.

“I don’t have much of a choice, Halsin. Everyone here is looking to me for answers. Answers that I just don’t have.” She was once again aware of the headache trying to force its way into her eyes.

“Here, I have something for you.” He held out a small potion vial. “This will help keep those headaches away.”

She took the vial and immediately downed the whole thing. It had a very strong herbal flavor, the initial bitter notes faded into a sweet aftertaste. She could already feel the small ache starting to fade causing her to let out a sigh of relief.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him.

“Anytime.” He said with a nod of his head. Before he turned to leave, he gave her one last lingering look, causing her to blush slightly.

Tav watched him walk away, the soft breeze was blowing his hair around his ears. She admired the shape of his arms, suddenly finding herself wondering what it would feel like to be caught between them. Her eyes continued to wander further down his body, taking in the shape of his hips and thighs. Another thought took over her mind as she imagined digging her hands into his thighs, slowly making their way back to his backside, how it would feel to be pressed against his–

She felt her face redden at the thought and snapped herself out of her fantasy. A huge wave of guilt crashed into her as her eyes landed on Astarion. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling a little…pent up since their time around Moonrise. For the most part, it didn’t bother her much, just in moments like this when she was feeling particularly overwhelmed. Regardless, it was worth the frustration if it made him feel comfortable. She had noticed such a change in him over the last tenday or so. He seemed so much more relaxed than when she first met him, actually taking the time to rest at night rather than prowling around the camp. His nightmares seemed to be fewer and further in between. Her desires were nothing compared to watching him peacefully enter a trance while laying in her arms each night.

He caught her staring and flashed his devious little grin at her, not helping her contain herself. All she was able to manage in return was a tired smile. She walked over to him and slowly slid her arms around his waist, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Hello, darling. What was that for?” He hugged her to his side.

“Do I need a reason?” She responded, trying to hide the shame still swirling around inside of her.

She stood there holding him for a few moments, listening to his soft breathing.

“Are you…alright?” He asked her, concern apparent in his voice.

“Of course.” She lied. “Seeing the city in this state is just…overwhelming.” She looked up at him and tried to flash a reassuring smile.

He eyed her in return, obviously suspicious.

“I’m fine, love. Really.” She was trying to convince herself as she said the words.

“I…I want to be here for you, my dear. Like you have been for me.” His voice softened.

“I know…” She whispered back. “And you have been.” She was telling the truth. Just having Astarion around her did make her feel better. She just couldn’t bring herself to admit to him that she was struggling. And she definitely didn’t want him to know about her…other frustrations. He was just starting to open up and trust her, she couldn’t bear the thought of him pushing himself too far on her behalf.

“Hey! Lovebirds!” Karlach yelled at them. “Those weapons looks like they could use a good sharpening.” She was holding her own weapon over her head to show them.

Tav let go of Astarion’s waist and picked up her sword.

“Come on, let’s at least take a chance to fix up some of our gear.” She helped Astarion gather up some other weapons and brought them over by the rest of their group.

***

Astarion had come to enjoy the smell of the oils they used to condition their armor. The sound of scraping whetstones filled the air around them, an oddly comforting sound now. Everyone in camp was sitting in a circle of sorts, tending to their weapons and other equipment. Tav was sitting next to him, cleaning dried blood and Gods know what else off of her large sword. Astarion knew something had Tav feeling down, but she wouldn’t way what it was. He didn’t want to push her, he knew that she would talk to him when she was ready. But he wanted to at least try to cheer her up a little bit. Give her a small confidence boost, maybe.

“Tell me, darling,” Astarion started, taking on a flirty tone, “are you really proficient with any type of weapon?”

“Ewww. Keep it in your pants, Fangs.” Karlach called from the other side of the circle.

Tav laughed in response. “Maybe not any weapon. I definitely favor my greatswords and greataxes, but I suppose I can make do with just about anything. My instructor was adamant that a true fighter shouldn’t rely on only one skill. You never know when you’ll be disarmed in a fight.” She shot a teasing look back at him.

“Ugh, it was one time. Honestly Tav, you act as if no one has ever made you drop a weapon.” He had his hand on his chest, feigning offense. 

“Hard to disarm me when they’re knocked to the ground.” She smirked.

“Feeling cocky today, are we?” He raised an eyebrow at her, and she gave him a playful grin. “Maybe the others would be interested in a little sparring session then?” She was still smiling back at him, but before she could respond, Karlach leaped from her seat.

“Fuck yeah!” She yelled. The others joined in, already starting to argue about who would go first.

“Let’s see if you can hold on to your weapons against us, darling.” He looked back to Tav and winked. He knew it was unlikely anyone in this camp could actually beat her in a one on one fight. Surely an afternoon of showing off her combat prowess would lift her spirits a little bit.

[kittenintheden]

Not Your Sweetheart Ch 34 - Lavender

Not Your Sweetheart Chapter 34 - Lavender

The one where I absolutely delight in reminding everyone that Astarion has a dead average 10 charisma and an 18 CHA Tav gives him a run for his goddamn money in all the best and most angsty ways.

AKA "gets away with it bc hottie w/a body" meets "wins every social interaction and is also troubled and hot."

AKA the seducer gets seduced and he's mad about it, until he isn't.

But also it's a whole campaign? You know. Do not enter unless you're expecting true-to-life D&D -- everyone hot as hell but stupid as fuck. Get your top-shelf found family and hotties battling for flirt dominance tropes here. 

---

We start off with some spicy and end on some sweet and everything in between is incredibly awkward and funny. Read on AO3.

Commissioned piece of the dorks by the fantastically talented @hamrikaa (see the full thing in Ch 10).

---

“Are you cold?” comes a voice from beside him.

He whips his head around to find the tiefling girl peering up at him. When she doesn’t look away, he glances around to see who she was talking to. “What?” he says.

Arabella points at his arm. “I rub my arms like that when I’m cold. Are you cold?”

“No,” Astarion says, forcing his arms to his side. He clears his throat and looks out over the camp until she wanders off.

She does not wander off.

“Sorry,” she says, though she doesn’t sound it. “I just thought maybe some of you were getting sick.”

“Why would you think that?” he sneers down at her, folding his arms in front of him so he doesn’t fidget.

The girl arches an eyebrow at him. “At least half of you were moaning and groaning partway through the night. I thought it was whatever you all ate. I think Karlach may have been hallucinating. She kept talking to someone who wasn’t there. If you’re not sick, then what?”

Astarion stares. The gears in his head turn, click into place, and he takes a sizable step back.

“No,” he says, putting more space between them. “I am not the one for that talk, no. I’m going to go away now. Do not follow me. Ever again.”

Arabella frowns a little at his retreating back before two of the women walk by, each carrying rations and water toward the fire. The tiefling sighs and says after them, “That’s not what you had last night, is it?”

Shadowheart stops and looks around, confused. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Don’t want to end up with a bellyache. You all were louder than Mirkon’s snoring until late.”

The half-elf goes immediately pink up to the tips of her ears. “We, erm,” she says. Swallows. “No one was sick. The food is fine.”

“Then what in the hells?” Arabella huffs. “No one tells me anything.”

Shadowheart’s mouth works as she tries to formulate a response.

Before she can get there, Lae’zel says, “I imagine you overheard us having various forms of intercourse, child.”

Very slowly, Shadowheart turns to look at her with wide eyes.

[vera-king-hrfl]

I'm not really sure how to introduce this one. It's a continuation of the Zevlor story that's quickly becoming a novel. But I'm posting it for you guys because it's kind of a snippet. It's after we find our man in the illithid colony, and he finds out what happened while he was enthralled. A brief warning. There is some angst, emotional pain, a little self-harm, and major feelings here. No smut in this one. It's also a pretty long scene. I did cry while writing it. I'm not sorry.

Tav is based on my current, who is a noble high elf silver dragon disciple. Highfalutin, I know, but that's what was in my head.

You approach Gale with a bit of trepidation. You're not sure if he'll agree, or even if your idea will work, but you have to try. Zevlor needs his people on his side. Or, at least, for them to understand what actually happened in those dark lands, when he was taken by the Absolute. But you couldn't be the one to do it.

As you move to stand near the wizard, sitting cross-legged on a mat and reading some dusty book you'd found in the house of healing, he looks up and smiles. "Greetings, Tav." Seeing the expression on your face, he rises with a look of concern. "My, you seem agitated. How can I help?"

You bite your lip and take a breath, then speak, your voice tight and apologetic. "I need a favor. If it's not... if you can manage it." 

He nods, taking your hand and pressing it. He can be so sweet sometimes. "If it is in my power, I shall do my utmost. What do you need?" 

You nod and squeeze his hand, grateful for his friendly devotion. "How are you with... mental domination?" 

His eyes widen a little, but he smiles. "I can cast the spell. Depending on the intended victim, I suppose I could maintain it almost indefinitely, as long as there are no other distractions. The power and duration really depend upon my concentration and the target's resistance. But so can you. Why? Who are we dominating today?"

You worry your lower lip with your teeth again and shake your head before continuing. "It cannot be me. They all know... look, Gale. We both know how powerful the elder brain is... with an unprepared mind, it would be almost impossible to resist its influence. Is that right?"

He nods slowly. "Yes, of course, but... oh, I see." He catches on quickly, you reflect, as he works out for himself what you want. "Let me see if I can guess your thought process. I assume this is in reference to your Hellrider and how his people have been treating him since... all that. You want to show them that what happened was not his fault, and you think a little demonstration of that kind of power would be a good way to do that. You can not perform this feat yourself because of your known association with him, so you want me to make a tiefling stand on one foot or something to demonstrate how easy it is to lose oneself in the face of strong magic." He ruminates for a moment, looking thoughtful, then shrugs and smiles. "I don't see that it could hurt to try. Courtesy dictates that I must warn the person I am to control, but even then, I should be able to hold them to my will for some time. May I involve another of our group?"

You nod. "If you think it will help. I can't really keep secrets from any of you anyway. Who are you planning to bring?"

He squeezes your hand and nods decisively before releasing you. "I had a thought to take Karlach with me. She's a tiefling, and she well knows how it is to be compelled to do things she doesn't want. I will go immediately. I saw a group of refugees in the inn recently. I imagine they haven't gone anywhere. I shall do my best to make them understand. Who is the intended target?" 

You watch Gale as he nearly bounces on his toes, seeming eager, as always, to demonstrate his skill. "Whoever is the strongest. But... well, don't hurt anyone or humiliate them too much. Just... never mind, you know what to do. It is in your capable hands."

Gale grins and bows. "My lady, I live to serve. Rest a while. You've been burning the candle at both ends lately, and you're a bit overwrought. Stay near. I'll come find you when I'm finished."

You watch him as he heads off to find Karlach and the other tieflings. You are overwrought, nervous, your concern over Zevlor and the refugees, the remaining Chosen, and the Elder Brain mingling and draining your mental faculties. You wander back to your own tent, sitting on a cushion just outside the flap and trying to meditate for a little while to clear your head. 

After what seems like ages, but is probably closer to half an hour, you sense Gale and Karlach returning, open your eyes, and struggle to your feet, trying to read their expressions. As they draw near, you can see that they are both smiling. Gale with an expression of satisfaction and Karlach a cheeky grin, bouncing a little as she approaches. She looks around when she arrives, before speaking at half her normal volume. "It worked! You're a genius, Tav. Cal volunteered. He hopped on one foot and everything! Gale was even going to make him slap Lia, but I stopped him, so he grabbed Dammon with the spell too and made them dance together! There was nothing they could do about it." She slaps Gale on the back, and the wizard wheezes, but looks pleased nonetheless. 

"Yes indeed," he continues with a smug expression. "Rolan has the strongest mind, but I do not think he would have taken my meddling with it lightly. So I thought maybe, if I dominated two of them at once, when they were prepared for it... and I made it quite clear that my powers do not nearly match those of the brain. I think it's had the desired effect. I believe Tilses went to look for him. She has been on his side the whole time anyway, and the others seem prepared both to apologize and forgive."

You blow out a breath and sag with relief. It was a long shot, and could have gone quite badly, especially with Rolan being so protective of his siblings... But hearing that your plan had worked was a welcome bright spot in an otherwise trying day. You pull them both into a hug, Gale grunting with wounded dignity and with the pressure of the grinning tiefling’s muscles crushing you both, thank them profusely, and then head off to look for Zevlor. Maybe this news would help with the deep depression he'd been struggling with since you rescued him.

The soft call of the scale you'd planted on him leads you toward Rethwin Town. As you approach the mason's guild, you see that Cerys, as well as Tilses, are standing near the doors, heads together in a fervent whispered discussion. You are opening your mouth to greet them when you're startled by a crash from inside, and the crunch and rattle of splintered wood. Cerys notices you first, and waits for you to arrive with a concerned expression. They're both looking at you nervously as another burst of noise echoes from beyond the half open doors, causing them both to flinch as you hurry over. 

Noting your concern, Tilses raises her hands, palms facing you. "He's not in any trouble. At least, not from fiends or undead. His only enemy is... well, himself." 

Your eyes widen. "Zevlor is making those noises?"

She nods, voice low, "yeah, the Commander is in a state at the moment. We came looking for him and heard the crashes... we thought he was being attacked. But... He's alone in there. At first he was shouting about being weak and unworthy, but then... well, he just started tearing the place apart."

You turn to go into the building, but Cerys catches your arm. "You might not want to go in there, Tav. He's unhinged. I've never seen him in this mood before. He might be... dangerous." 

You smile reassuringly and pat her hand. "He won't hurt me." Though, with the sounds coming from beyond the doors, you're not quite so sure as you pretend. "Go back to the inn. Please. If... if anything goes wrong... I can defend myself, but I don't want you in the crossfire. Just in case."

They exchange a long look, but then nod. "Very well," Tilses says quietly. "If anyone can help him, it's you. We know him, but he may be embarrassed... I know he thinks very highly of you." She grips your arm, a plea in her eyes, and then she and the other woman move off, looking over their shoulders once or twice. You wait until they are out of sight, and then take a deep breath and turn toward the doors. 

It is dim and dusty in the building, golden motes drifting through the newly revealed sunbeams that are filtering through holes in the battered roof. There is a flurry of movement in the back room, and you pass through the second set of doors just as Zevlor seizes a thick, rotten log from a cradle by the ruined fireplace and rips it in half with his bare hands. He casts the pieces aside and paces the width of the room, his hands shoved into his hair. There is blood on his face and hands, spattered on his dully gleaming armor, and a wreck of shattered crates and tools is scattered about. Your heart aches for him, but you hold your tongue for a moment as you sidle through the door and stand next to it, leaning your back against the wall. 

He doesn't notice you at first, so great is his distress, and in the relative quiet, you can hear him whimpering to himself, his voice hovering on the raw edge of sanity. "I tried. I'm so sorry. I wasn't strong enough. They're dead. They hate me. They're right to hate me. It's all my fault. If I had only been stronger..." He grabs another crate and sends it hurtling into the stone wall, where it explodes in a shower of splinters and small nails. You turn your head, but don't move, feeling a few shards pepper the side of your face. He turns back to pace in the other direction, stumbling and nearly falling over as he finally catches sight of you. He freezes and his eyes go wide, orange rings in deep black, shining in the gloom. His mouth wags for a moment, but then firms as he turns his face away. 

His words are a low, pained growl when he finally speaks. "You shouldn't be here." His hands flex, and you see that some of his claws are broken, his fingertips bloody. "I couldn't bear it if I... I  killed them. Leave, before I..."

You stand away from the wall, approaching him slowly, staying well out of his reach, but preparing a shield just in case. "We both know that's not true," you say quietly, your own hands wringing at your robes. "You weren't in control of..." 

He cuts you off with a roar, swinging his fist until it meets a supporting beam with a loud crack of splintered wood. The edifice sways, and dust and bits of ancient birds nests filter down from above. He's not a big man, but in this extremis he's terrifyingly strong, and you hope he doesn't manage to bring the whole roof down on your heads. "But I am responsible! I led them, it was me that... I..." He winces, looking at his hand in confusion, and you see the flash of white bone peeking through his scraped, ruby skin. Dark blood drips onto the floor from his torn flesh, drops scattering among the dust and ashes. "I wasn't good enough for them. I'm not strong enough, couldn't resist her. They're dead because of me. You don't want to associate... I've failed everyone. You deserve someone who..."

He stands there trembling for a moment before looking up and quickly striding toward you, raising his wounded hand to shove you back against the wall, your head hitting the stone so hard you see brief stars drift across your vision. He's on you in an instant, mouth crushing yours, bloody fingers pulling at your clothes. You feel all of his rage and shame and desperation as he kisses you frantically, his teeth cutting into your lips. You let him tear at you, neither returning his violent kiss nor trying to push him away. You're slightly dazed when he suddenly gasps and rips himself away from you. He pants, eyes blazing... "Gods I... I'm... you see? Im no good to anyone. I could have..." He reaches out as if to touch the drop of blood oozing from your bruised lips, a horrified expression on his face, but the lowers his eyes and drops to his knees before you. He covers his face with his hands and keens. "You don't want to be near me. Nobody wants to be near me. I see their faces when... you should leave me. I could never... never be good enough for... I'm not the man you..." he stops, shaking silently in the dust, ragged breaths filtering through his hands. 

You stand still for a moment, stunned, but then slowly let yourself sink to the floor, sliding your back down the wall until you’re sitting before him. You keep your tone gentle, "I am perfectly capable of judging for myself what kind of man you are. Here." You reach out and, ever so gently, ease his hands from his face, being careful not to put pressure on the broken one. He resists at first, but then relents. You inspect his bloody hand, lamenting to yourself that you cannot heal him, but you let coolness flow from your fingers, hoping to soothe him and ease the pain into numbness. "Hold still," you say as you release his fingers and reach beneath the hem of your robe to tear a strip from your linen under tunic. He flinches at the ripping sound, but keeps his hand stretched out before him, breathing harshly. You carefully wrap the linen around his hand, sinking a deeper cold into his inflamed flesh as you delicately press on the exposed little bone, easing it back into place and pinching the skin together before wrapping his palm firmly and tucking the end of the makeshift bandage under itself. You cradle the wounded appendage and reach out with your other hand, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes are wide, sparkling with unshed tears, his mouth working in shock, lip trembling. You lean forward a little to hold his eyes, keeping your voice soft, soothing, "you do not have to carry the world on your shoulders, my love. Let me take some of the weight. Come here."

A silent tear tracks down his ravaged cheek, but he allows you to draw him toward you, laying his bandaged hand on your lap and shifting him so he's sitting before you before pressing his face into your shoulder, lifting your chin to avoid his horns. He curls his tail around himself and hesitantly wraps his good arm around your back, and you hold the armored tiefling close as his lean frame hitches and trembes with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.

The fading beams have crawled a long way up the wall before a low voice nudges you out of your doze. "My. Aren't you two a mess." Zevlor is cradled in your arms, having fallen into a deep sleep after crying himself out. Shadowheart crouches next to you, her expression unusually soft, and looks you over. You know you must look shocking, with your lips bruised and cut, and little streaks of dried blood on your face, your eyes puffy from weeping with heartache over Zevlor's pain. She reaches out and brushes a lock of hair out of your eyes, dropping her voice to a quiet whisper. "We saw the other two return, but it took a while to get it out of them. We waited as long as we dared, and then I came because, well, I'm the most subtle." She smiles. "Good thing too. You look like you both could use a little attention." You nod and shift slightly, letting her see Zevlor's hand, wrapped in the bloody bandage on your lap. He tenses a little, tightening his grip on you and murmuring into your robe, but doesn't wake, such is his exhaustion. Shadowheart reaches out, very lightly touching her fingers to his, and whispers the spell. His breath hitches and he shudders as the tingling power filters through him, but then sighs, seeming to feel the relief even in his sleep. She heals you next, the sensation making your skin prickle with gooseflesh, but you feel the small cuts close and the bruises fade.

"Thank you," you mouth silently, and she nods, leaning back on her heels. 

"We will leave you alone as long as you wish. We just wanted to know you were safe." Her expression becomes thoughtful. "You love him." Her own nod follows yours, and she reaches out to brush one knuckle down your cheek before standing. "I'm happy for you. Truly. I will tell the others you are both alright. Take as long as you need. You deserve to be happy." Her smile is almost sweet as she turns away and silently exits the room. 

The last light is fading when Zevlor stirs against you. Slowly he turns, easing himself around in your grasp until his eyes, just a flicker of fire in the darkness now, gaze up at you. His voice is a husky whisper, "did you mean it? What you said, before. You called me... or, maybe I was dreaming." He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, a soft, happy sound. "If so, it was a wonderful dream."

You look down at him with a soft smile and bend your head to place a light kiss on his full lips. "I did. And you are. Ai armiel telere maenen hir, Zevlor, and I can only hope you feel the same." He sits up, keeping his arm about you and chuckling softly, looking at you with undisguised adoration. 

"I don't know what that means, but I think I can guess. I can see it now, in your eyes." He cups your cheek with a gentle hand. "Are you certain this is what you want? Me? Because, I know... my heart is yours for as long as I draw breath. I love you. So very much." You nod yes, and he slowly leans toward you, taking a deep trembling breath before pressing his lips softly to yours. 

Zevlor kisses you chastely for a little while, his lips and hands full of tenderness, before placing a kiss on your forehead, and then resting his own against yours. "Very well, my lady. Together, then." His words are a feather brush against your lips. "But you need me at my best if we are to prevail in this... I will seek the Oathbreaker Knight."

[moonselune]

Heya, would it be possible for you to write about the bg3 ladies comforting/helping their Paladin Tav after their Oath was broken on something seemingly mundane. Like "cutting a deal" with Gortash to "work with him" to deal with Orin, as a way to avoid conflict after his promotion ceremony. The breaking of Tav's Oath weighing heavy and Tav doesn't want to retake their Oath until what caused it to break was rectified. Like getting Gortash that cheeky shit

This was such a good request honestly I am so impressed with everyones imagination (I literally sound like a school teacher lmaoooo)

Karlach:

You sit by the campfire, staring into the flames as the weight of your broken Oath presses heavily on your shoulders. The decision to cut a deal with Gortash gnaws at you, a compromise that went against everything you stood for as a paladin. You had done it to protect your camp, to avoid a conflict that could have cost lives, but the cost to your soul felt almost unbearable.

Karlach approaches, her fiery- and notably fuming, presence a stark contrast to your somber mood. She sits down next to you, her usual boisterous energy tempered by concern.

"I don't get it," she starts, her voice tinged with frustration. "We could have taken Gortash down right there. Why did you make that deal?"

You wince at her words, the guilt and shame bubbling to the surface. "I did it to protect everyone," you say quietly. "To protect you. We were unprepared and we would have been obliterated by the steel watch... but it broke my Oath."

Karlach sighs, running a hand through her short, spiky hair, seemingly ignoring your last comment. "Look, I get wanting to keep everyone safe, but sometimes you have to fight for what's right. You should have let me kill him when I had the chance."

Your temper flares, the stress of the situation pushing you over the edge. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I wanted to break my Oath?" you snap, your voice breaking. "I did what I thought was best, and now I'm paying the price."

Karlach's eyes widen at your outburst, and she realizes just how deeply this is affecting you. Her expression softens, and she places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it worse... I just hate seeing you like this."

You take a deep breath, trying to regain your composure. "I can't retake my Oath until I make things right. Until Gortash is dealt with."

Karlach nods, determination hardening her features and she wraps an arm around her shoulder. "Then we'll get him. Together. I promise you, we'll make things right."

Her words bring a flicker of hope to your heart, and you nod, leaning your head against her shoulder, "Thank you, Karlach."

She smiles, her fiery spirit rekindling and she presses a kiss to the temple of your forehead. "Anytime. Now let's get some rest. We've got a bastard to hunt."

Minthara:

The night air is cool and still as you sit alone, the weight of your broken Oath heavy on your soul. The Oathbreaker's words rattling through you. The deal with Gortash had been a bitter compromise, one that went against every principle you held dear as a paladin of the Oath of the Ancients. You had done it to protect your loved ones, to avoid a deadly conflict with Gortash and his steel watch, but the cost to your spirit felt immense.

Minthara finds you, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and amusement. She stands beside you, her presence commanding and confident.

"So, this is why you should have taken the Oath of Vengeance," she teases, a smirk playing on her lips. "No room for compromises, no room for weakness."

You don't respond, your eyes fixed on the ground. Minthara's smirk fades as she senses your distress. She crouches down beside you, her tone shifting to one of genuine concern. "You are truly troubled by this, aren't you?"

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. "I broke my Oath. I betrayed my principles to protect everyone, but it still feels wrong. Devastating, even."

Minthara's eyes narrow, her expression thoughtful. "You did what you thought was necessary. Sometimes the path of righteousness is not clear-cut, my love. But I see that this weighs heavily on you."

"I can't retake my Oath until I make things right," you say, the determination in your voice masking the pain. "Until Gortash is dealt with."

Minthara places a firm hand on your shoulder, her grip reassuring. "Then we shall make it right. I swear to you, we will bring Gortash to justice."

You look up at her, surprise and gratitude mingling in your eyes. "You'd help me with this?"

Minthara nods, a fierce glint in her eyes. "You are my ally, my lover. I will stand by you, no matter the cost. Together, we will see this through."

Her words fill you with renewed strength, and you nod, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Thank you, Minthara."

She leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead in a rare display of tenderness. "Rest now. We have much to do, and you will need your strength."

Lae'zel:

The campfire crackled softly in the still night, but its warmth did little to chase away the cold weight of guilt and shame pressing down on you. The decision to cut a deal with Gortash haunted you, a compromise that had shattered your Paladin Oath. You had done it to protect your group, to protect your loved ones, but the cost to your spirit felt immeasurable.

Lae'zel approached with her usual determined stride, her sharp eyes narrowing as she assessed your state. She seated herself beside you, her presence both comforting and commanding.

“You seem lost,” she began, her voice unwavering. “What troubles you?”

You sighed heavily, unable to meet her gaze. “I broke my Oath, Lae'zel. I made a deal with Gortash to avoid conflict, to keep everyone safe. But in doing so, I betrayed my principles.”

Lae'zel studied you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she placed a firm hand on your shoulder. “Your actions were guided by necessity and loyalty. There is no shame in that.”

“But it feels wrong,” you said, voice trembling. “I can’t retake my Oath until I’ve made things right, until Gortash is dealt with.”

Lae'zel’s eyes flashed with determination. “Then we shall hunt him down and restore your honor. My blade is yours, and I will strike with the force of a thousand Githyanki warriors.”

Despite your heavy heart, you couldn’t help but chuckle at her fierce proclamation. “A thousand Githyanki warriors, huh?”

She nodded solemnly, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips and she nudged you. “Indeed. We will make Gortash regret his actions. Together, we will see this through.”

Her fierce loyalty and unwavering support filled you with renewed resolve. You nodded, a small smile forming. “Thank you, Lae'zel.”

She inclined her head, her expression softening slightly. “We fight for each other. Now, rest and gather your strength. The battle ahead will be fierce.”

Shadowheart:

You sat in your tent, head in hands, the weight of your broken Oath pressing down on you. The decision to cut a deal with Gortash had been agonizing, but necessary to protect your companions. Still, the betrayal of your principles gnawed at you, leaving you feeling lost and adrift.

Shadowheart entered the tent without warning, her presence like a jolt of lightning in the oppressive gloom. She took one look at you and sighed, her expression a mixture of exasperation and concern.

“Get up,” she commanded, her voice firm. “Sitting here wallowing in self-pity won’t solve anything.”

You looked up, startled by her abruptness. “Shadowheart, I…”

“No excuses,” she interrupted, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet. “You made a difficult choice to protect us all. That doesn’t make you weak or dishonorable. It makes you human.”

“I broke my Oath,” you protested, your voice breaking. “I can’t retake it until I’ve made things right.”

“Then make things right, but moping around isn’t going to help anyone. Least of all yourself.” She said sharply, she then unsympathetically dragged you out of the tent and into the cool night air, her grip strong and unyielding.

"Shadowheart just-"

“-Look at me,” she demanded, her eyes locking onto yours. Her hands cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at her. “You are a Paladin. A protector. Start acting like one.”

You blinked, taken aback by her intensity. But there was a fire in her eyes, a fierce determination that mirrored your own. It reignited something within you, a spark of the resolve you had thought lost.

“I will make it right,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’ll deal with Gortash and restore my Oath.”

Shadowheart nodded, removing her hands, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. “Good. And I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

You felt a surge of gratitude and affection for her. “Thank you, Shadowheart. For not letting me give up.”

Her expression softening slightly, and she kissed your forehead. “We’re in this together. Now, let’s get some rest. We have work to do.”

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Who's the little mouse?

Short fic based on this post. The opportunity to drag this bastard through the redemption arc kicking and screaming is too delicious to pass up.

"Now who's the mouse again?"

You felt a well-deserved grin worm its way onto your face as you stared down at the devil at your feet.

Raphael didn't say a word, only looked at you with the most spiteful glare he could muster. It didn't look very threatening, what with the broken horn, bleeding lip, and swollen eye.

"Bravo," Raphael spat out, some blood staining his doublet, "what are you waiting for then, hm?" He gave you a grimace of a smile. He tried to sound confident but you heard the waver in his voice. Raphael knows what happens to demons in hell. You know it too.

You almost felt sorry for him. The devil had his charm even with his ass kicked like that. It was ridiculous, this man had a mansion powered by tortured souls, and yet... killing him felt wrong. Not undeserved you just had a feeling that it should not end like that.

Just then, Gale cleared his throat,

"Come now, let's finish what we've started. This orb isn't getting any more stable and we still have to decide what to do with the crown."

Right, Crown of Karsus. A mighty mcguffin all these big fish in this pond called Baldur's Gate hunt for. You still don't quite understand how it works but you got the idea from Gale's lectures.

And just like that, an idea formed in your head. An idea so devious, so cruel it will make Raphael wish he was dead. Your smile must've slipped into a dangerous category because you noticed the devil visibly flinch whilst looking at you.

"Gale, c'mere." You beckoned the wizard with your finger, a voice deceptively sweet.

The wizard gawked at you, "Uh, sure."

Amidst hushed whispers exchanged with the rest of your party a words like "Holy shit..." and "Are you nuts?!?" were thrown around but in the end, Gale took the crown and walked towards Raphael.

"Are you sure about this?" he called after you.

"Yep!" you sing-songed, "What's the worst that could happen?"

"You're actually scaring me, soldier."

"Just hurry up! I'm dying to see what happens, a-ha!"

Raphael wasn't sure what transpired between you and your comrades but he was smart enough to know he was not gonna like it. In the last, desperate attempt he tried to scare off the wizard who was chanting some gibberish and wielding an object he worked so hard to get his hands on.

"No! Stay back! Do you know who I am?!? You will regret-aaaaarrggghhh!!!!"

A white-hot searing pain went through his entire body as if his very cells were rearranged, and then...nothing.

This emptiness wasn't what he imagined. Surely black tendrils would rise from the ground, dragging him to some archdemon to feast on. Instead, it was like he was dreaming, almost as if he could wake up at any time.

Hold on...

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" A booming voice shook him up from his slumber.

Raphael jerked up. With sunlight blinding him, the whole world spinning and his imminent death postponed, the devil was more confused than ever.

"Wha-what's going on? Where am I?" The devil fumbled, his glib tongue abandoning him.

"We're on our way to Baldur's Gate," another voice chimed in, too familiar and amused for his likings.

He turned his head and zeroed in on the man lounging on the crates behind him. Raphael knows this man, the fool who sold his soul to Mizora.

"Glad you're awake. We thought you were never gonna open your eyes again. Can't believe fucker's plan actually worked!"

He knew this voice too, Zariel's soldier, Karlach. Stupid enough to think she's free of her. Her words made Raphael pause.

"What is this plan you speak of?" He glared her way.

Karlach shrugged, completely unbothered that there was an archdevil in front of her, and jerked her head forward.

"Why don't you ask the boss?"

Thanks to these words, Raphael finally understood where he was - in a rickety wagon stuffed with junk and people he hated the most. Is this his form of hell??

Despite himself, Raphael stumbled to the front of the wagon, legs wobbly like a freshly born fawn. He felt so weak, what did these vermin do to him?!

He almost fell onto the driver's porch where he found you. His favorite mouse and the person who held all the answers.

You looked at him with an easy grin. That unnerved him the most. You always treated him to cold glares and disgusted snarks. Actually, everybody in the cart looked as if they knew a joke he did not. Raphael had enough of this charade.

"You'll tell me everything right now! Or I swear you'll burn with the hottest flames of hell!" He hissed into your ear.

You only gave him an amused side-eye, and kept your eyes on the road as you spurred the horses on, "Oh, yeah?"

He ignored the simmering in his belly at the challenge in your eyes. "Oh, yes..." He grasped your chin and turned you to look at him. "Now tell me-"

"Careful now, you keep leaning from the bench and you'll fall down and break your neck."

He chuckled darkly "Oh little mouse," he leaned close enough he could feel your breath on his lips, "someone like me can't be harmed with tha-aah!"

The world tilted on its axis and just like you said he was falling, arse first into the dirt. For a moment, Raphael just lay there, staring at the azure blue sky as he tried to comprehend all of these new sensations.

This shouldn't hurt, he should've killed all these sinners the moment he awoke, but when he tried to tap into the infinite pool of his demonic magic...it was empty.

What's happening?!?

You were the only decent enough to stop the wagon and rush to help him, the rest just laughed like fools.

To add insult to injury, the githyanki woman just looked down at him from her spot in the carriage and scoffed.

"Pathetic."

[tealfling]

Little Headcanon Scenes

I imagine happen in my Amaranth playthrough that I don't have stories to go with.

- Amaranth flits around camp, ever the busybody, checking on the other companions and helping them with their chores. Asking if they need anything. Ever since she allowed him to drink from her, Astarion has been acutely aware of presence. Always a ping on the compass in his mind. But she'll do things that'll catch him off guard. Like sneak up behind him (hard to do) while he's reading. She'll grab him by the chin and tilt it up to her as she leans in to study his face. At first he's startled by the touch, but will relax when he sees it's her. He'll try to collect himself and not melt into the devastating warmth of her hands. Like always, he'll reflexively throw a seductive line at her, while asking what he can do for her, but she'll stroke her thumbs from the dark circles under his eyes down his cheeks. It's so gentle, caring. Astarion won't know how to react. Suddenly there's nothing to focus on but the sprinkle of white freckles across her purple cheeks, like a starry night, or the way her long silver hair has fallen around his face like a protective curtain. or the way her crystal clear eyes read him intently, almost concerned. He can almost feel himself blush from her heat. Her voice is be soft when she says "Just checking." Astarion's brows will crease confused. "On what?" It's a defensive snap, and harsher than he means. "On you. You look like you haven't fed well in a while, would you like a little midnight snack?" Amaranth's voice is low enough so only he hears, but her tone is playful and her cute little nose crinkles. Astarion couldn't help the small smile when he said, "How very altruistic of you. But if you're offering Darling, how could I say no?" He meant it to sound much more suave, but her smile grew. "Alright, I'll see you later then." For the briefest second, he thought she might say something else. Maybe it was the glance she gave his lips like she might press hers to his, but she just popped up, sauntering away, and Astarion wished she had.

- The first couple of days of their journey would have been hard for Amaranth to deal with only having one pair of pants. The pair she had on while abducted. Eventually she'd try to fashion her own out of some looted pair she finds. It's hard to get the right fit with a tail to consider. Why not get some at the Grove, from the tiefling refugees? Because, they're refugees!! Hasn't enough been taken from them?! And now you want her to take their pants? Absolutely not. Obviously she can make do with what she can find. She's a pretty good quilter after all, but not really good at tailoring. She's already removed all those bullshit sleeves from her shirts, how hard can it be? Those skills aren't as transferable as she thought, however. What, like, you've never had a meltdown over a seam ripper before? Astarion will swoop in to fix it bc how is he supposed to act when he finds she's crying with half her vast ass hanging out of some pillaged pants? Dry those tears and put away that pouty lip, it's.... making him feel bad. He'll take care of it for her, he's used to fixing his own clothes. It's the least he could do with everything she's given him. He'll also be stealing something better for her to wear as soon as he can. It'll be a nice little gift, something to repay her with.

- As soon as Karlach is touchable, Amaranth showers her bestie with all the hugs she can handle. Literally, hanging off her bigger friend half the time. [At least until she overheats, Amaranth still hates being sweaty, as much as she loves her friend.] Piggy back rides are a frequent occurrence. Occasionally, with Karlach on the receiving side, Amaranth is surprisingly strong, but Karlach actually prefers her little purple backpack, it’s a comfort thing. Being finally held by another. It’s around this time that the others in the party were starting to suspect something might be going on between Amaranth and Astarion. Lately they've been visibly inseparable, constantly whispering secrets and inside jokes. It's also been noted that when one seemingly disappears the other is also coincidently missing. So it’s kind of strange that Amaranth's suddenly very touchy with Karlach, even more so than Amaranth's normal chumminess with them. Astarion is never far behind the two tieflings, still seemingly at the purple one's beck and call, but the others can’t get a read on what’s going on there. Gale and Wyll are constantly exchanging glances. Who’s going to say something first? Wyll cracks first, not one to forgo the opportunity to poke at the vampire. He looks at Amaranth wrapped behind Karlach, then elbows the pale elf, “So, Astarion, you and Amaranth seem pretty close. How come we never see you carrying her on your back?” The other man never gets the chance to reply. Somehow Karlach beats him to a punchline, “Because she can ride me longer obviously.” Amaranth grabs the red tiefling from behind by the horns and shakes her head. “Karlach!” She exclaims with a nervous laugh while Karlach cackles. The elf clicks his tongue and crosses his arms, turning his head, clearly pouting. "Oh I assure you, I'm the best ride any of you could ever get," he bites. Amaranth tugs back on Karlach's horns so they can look at each other from the side, "Well, none of my rides have made me 'see stars' or taken me 'to the FeyWild and back,' so I guess we all have room for improvement." Karlach groans shamefully as the three men look at them. Gale and Wyll exchange confused glances, and Wyll mutters about being sorry he said anything.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thanks for the tag @busy-baker 😁

Excerpt from chapter 16 of “Heart of the Weave” on AO3:

After about an hour of Gale and I enjoying each other’s company, we hear baby Jenevelle wake up from her nap. Rather than being fussy, she seems happy and full of life. Gale gets her a warm bottle ready while I get her dressed and ready to hang out with Karlach. I hand her to Gale so he can feed her while I finish getting ready for our outing tonight. I put on my maroon dress with gold braces on my arms, feeling dapper and delicate, actually rather happy with how I look tonight. My dark hair is pinned up, and I decide to actually have my bangs pushed out of my face for once.

I’m finally done getting ready and walk into the baby’s room, noticing Gale burping her and snuggling her against his chest. He is speaking to her in such a soft voice.

“Your mother is something special to me,” he murmurs. “Oh, how I’m glad I chose her. How I fell for her. How she swayed me away from trying to please Mystra. One day, when you’re much older, I’m sure you’ll find that person. When you do, never let them go. You’ll know.” He kisses her forehead as she stares up at him with sincere eyes. “I am so glad we have you. I am so happy to be your father.” I smile as I watch them both, and notice him stand up with her in his arms. He turns around, noticing me standing by the door. He blushes, then stares at his feet for a moment.

“Hi,” I say, still smiling at him.

“Oh, you heard me. Well, I meant what I said, by the way.” I laugh lightly, approaching him with a soft kiss on his lips. “You look beautiful.”

“Why thank you. Your words… They make me so happy. Thank you.” A sudden loud knock at the front door startles the shit out of me, which means Karlach has arrived. Leave it to me to be easily spooked, even when I knew it was going to happen. We walk to the living area to open the door and not only is Karlach there, but so is Shadowheart and Astarion. This could make for a rather interesting evening.

“I know what you’re thinking. ‘Where’s Wyll?’ He went to visit with his father, so it’s just us three. Yeah!” Karlach says, trying to contain her voice volume. I roll my eyes and smile. “I hope that’s alright. Sorry for the unexpected visitors.”

“I’m not opposed at all, I’m just curious why all three of you are here. Like I said, I don’t mind,” Gale says. “Just don’t destroy the tower and keep the baby safe at all costs. Which I imagine you’ll do.”

“Well, Astarion and I… We’re going to adopt and could use the practice,” Shadowheart chimes in. What? They’re together? I think another important question would be: Since when did Astarion want children?

“Emmy, you look just as surprised as I do. I didn’t even know these fuckers were together until a couple hours ago when I went to snatch them from their house.” I can’t help but chuckle at Karlach’s words, but I’m also glad I’m not the only one in shock at this news. We knew Shadowheart was planning on adopting, but had no idea her and Astarion were even together. They’re good at keeping situations private, I’ll give them that.

“That’s so exciting! Wow! Congrats, you two. I’d have more input but alas I’m at a loss for words. In a good way,” I mention.

“Completely understandable,” Shadowheart says with her soft voice.