#with some light Gale bullying

[tadpole-apocalypse]

Lost in the Weave - Page 1

Uncensored on Patreon 🤭

[thechaoticdruid]

[Delicious]

Astarion x Named!Tav

Plot: After setting up camp in the Underdark the weirdos start to reminisce of past lovers, which also brings a curious question to light. How come Winnie had no lovers before Astarion?

Content/Warnings: MDNI SMUT

F!MC, MC uses she/her pronouns, insecurities, chubby mc, flashbacks, unrequited love, bullying, Little Winnie being feral, Winnie is just feral in general, violence, blood, gore, some piv smut at the end, fingering, conflicted Astarion, angst, comfort.

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“Arrg! You asshat!” Winnie shouted hanging onto the back of the minotaur as it bucked and jerked around, trying to shake the druid off. The brunette-haired woman grabbed hold of the horns as she held on for dear life. “I could use a little help here!” She said with annoyance, her scimitars had been discarded onto the ground, leaving her weaponless and it was honestly too risky to try to cast a spell while being slung around.

Astarion aimed his bow at the beast, arrowhead trying to align with the minotaur’s head. The arrow came fast, but unfortunately the bull man jerked out of the way. Winnie let out a yelp as the arrow grazed the armor of her shoulder.

“Astarion!” The druid growled out.

“Apologies darling, it's hard to aim when the stupid cow keeps moving!” Astarion replied with a hint of annoyance.

“AHHHH!” Karlach suddenly screamed, flames surrounding her as she went into a rage. The fiery tiefling charged forward with her great ax, taking a swing at one of the minotaur’s legs and hacking it right off. Winnie let out a shout as the beast fell forward, dragging her along with it! Winnie fell right onto Astarion, sending him tumbling over as Karlach proceeded to repeatedly hack and slash at the monster, each swing separately another limp from the beast's body with a sickening crunch sound. The tiefling let out another loud scream as she just kept hacking and slashing into the beast, turning its body into a bloody pile of viscera. 

“Oh for gods' sake, it's dead Karlach. Now you're just getting the blood everywhere!” Astarion complained, getting up as he held the dazed druid up along with him. Karlach eventually cooled off, panting heavily as she stepped away from the battered corpse, boots drenched in blood.

“I could have drank that.” Astarion murmured under his breath. Winnie rubbed her head a bit as she gathered her bearings.

“Mystra’s blood! What happened here?!” Gale exclaimed as he appeared out from behind a large stalagmite.

“Oh, you know just getting some fresh Underdark air.” Winnie said sarcastically.

“Gale, where in the hells have you been?!” Astarion demanded as he crossed his arms, glaring at the wizard in annoyance. 

“I was helping the others find a water source to camp by. Unfortunately, we still haven't found anything yet.” Gale stated. 

“Ah, so being of no help as usual.” Astarion huffed a bit.

“Ignore Fangs, Gale. He's just cranky we weren't able to get him lunch.” Karlach piped up, finally calming down from her rage. 

“Hmm, wait a minute.” Winnie said before scurrying over to what was left of the the minotaur corpse. 

“Eh..What are you doing?” Gale asked with grimaced of disgust as Winnie took out a jar from her pack and grabbed hold of one of the severed minotaur limbs. 

“Getting some blood for Star.” Winnie said before squeezing out what blood she could from the minotaur leg. 

“Ah, you're such a sweetheart, Winnie.” Astarion gave her a flirtatious wink, causing the druid to blush as she gathered blood into a jar. 

“Awe, that is sweet, soldier. A little gross, but sweet.” Karlach smiled. 

“Ah yes, collecting blood from a mutilated corpse. A very romantic gesture.” Gale exclaimed.

“I…I'm just trying to help.” Winnie murmured, before filling up the jar completely with blood, her hands covered in red.  “Besides, it's crucial that we help each other since we are in this together.” 

Winnie walked over and handed Astarion the jar.

“Well, since you are in a helping mood. We still need to find a better spot to set up camp.” The wizard said as Winnie wiped her hands off with a handkerchief. 

“Hmm…I could wildshape into something with wings and scout out ahead. Surely, I should be able to get a better look around in the air than on the ground.”  Winnie hummed.

“Excellent idea!” Gale chimed.

Winnie soon transformed into an owl and flew upwards and across the cave, staying low enough to avoid the stalactites. Her eyes scanned the area surrounding them before taking note of what looked like a large abandoned shack on a cliff. There also happened to be a stream running past it which dropped off into a small waterfall. It seemed suspiciously convenient, but was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. Winnie flew a bit closer, scanning the area for any signs of danger and found nothing in sight aside from what looked like humanoid bones, next to a hook horror carcass. 

Well, that explains the abandoned camp, but how did that beast die? 

Winnie wondered to herself. Whatever the case, this area had shelter, water and possibly supplies. It was the perfect spot to set up camp for the night. The druid quickly turned back to quickly reunite with her companions who had all been following her halfway there. She circled around them hooting a couple of times before leading them towards the abandoned campsite. Once everyone had arrived Winnie landed on the ground, returning to her human shape. 

“I checked around the area. There doesn't seem to be anything dangerous aside from some human remains and a dead hook horror.” 

“Oh, and that's supposed to mean this place is safe?” Astarion huffed in a skeptical tone.

“Well, whatever killed them isn't around anymore. And I can't smell anything around here that could possibly be a predator of any kind.” Winnie said before sniffing the air. 

“I was unaware humans had such a keen sense of smell.” Lae’zel exclaimed.

“Normally we don't.” Gale added with a raised eyebrow at Winnie.

“I suppose I've spent so much time in wolf form it's rubbed off on my human side.” Winnie explained.

“So you're practically a puppy?” Astarion said in a teasing tone. 

“Wolf.” Winnie corrected, “the point is. The area is clear. For now anyway.” The druid sighed. 

“I'll survey the area again just to be sure. The rest of you should make camp.” Lae'zel said. 

“Sounds good to me.” Winnie said before looking around in the abandoned shack. She went through the entrance which had a curtain as a makeshift door. Inside she set down her things as she took in the surroundings. There was a fire pit in the middle of everything, surrounded by chairs made from long logs. Winnie started a fire before making herself comfortable.

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The party later gathered around the fire in the abandoned shack after everyone had finished setting up camp. Winnie sat quietly as Astarion took a seat next to her, his red eyes looked her up and down. The group one way or another ended up sharing some stories. And somehow of all things the stories turned into tales of old lovers.

“Ah, I remember it was like yesterday when 15-year-old Wyll snuck off into the Blushing Mermaid and had his first kiss.”

“You didn't have your first kiss until you were fifteen?” Astarion piped up, “how pathet-” he suddenly stopped mid-sentence as he realized he was still sitting next to Winnie who was giving him a look. “Never mind that! My first lover was tremendously handsome! Like a dashing prince from a fairytale!” Astarion exaggerated. Winnie just rolled her eyes at the elf’s tall tale.  She didn't know who his first love was, but she knew damn well he didn't either.

“I'm sure he was Astarion.” Shadowheart said in a teasing tone. “What about you Winnie? Who was your first love? Before Astarion I mean.”  Winnie paused a bit. Before Astarion there wasn't really anyone. Maybe an unrequited passing fancy here and there, but nothing mutual. 

“No one.” Winnie said shyly, hands nervously fiddling with her pants. 

“You must have at least fancied someone before?”

“I suppose...When I first came to Baldur's Gate, there was Vesperr.” Winnie said, beginning to reminisce about her time in Baldur's Gate. “He had to be the most beautiful man I had ever met.” Winnie blushed a little, her mind thinking back to her first real crush. Vesperr was a high elf druid with long beautiful blonde hair and stunning blue eyes. 

Astarion scoffed at Winnie’s fond tone.

“Most beautiful back then perhaps.” He muttered under his breath. 

“He helped me with some of my druid training, taught me what he knew. He was very wise and smart.” Winnie smiled.

“So why didn't you hook up with him?” Karlach asked.

“Well…. I was a teenager for one….and he's only interested in men.” Winnie chuckled nervously, “so you can see how that wouldn't have worked.” 

“Ah, well I for one am rather glad. More of you for me. ~” Astarion flirted, running his hand over Winnie’s thigh and making her shutter.

“Funny, I would have thought you'd have more suitors. You seem like quite the romantic.” Shadowheart hummed.

“I suppose I'm just not very desirable.” Winnie shrugged with a sad look. Mind going back to her younger years. 

~~~~~

Winnie’s time spent in the Lost Grove was peaceful, but not always pleasant. She often found herself the target of many of her peers' torment. She could remember running through the grass alongside her friend Demi, both of them in wolf form. The Grove's beautiful lush landscapes stretched as far as the eye could see. Winnie galloped further on ahead, claws kicking up dirt as she sprinted towards the village’s huts. The two were rushing to their training after goofing off and playing around in the forest all morning. Winnie was the first to arrive, returning to her human form with a smirk. “I win!” The ten year old cheered as Demi arrived a few minutes afterwards, changing back to her gnomish form. 

“Of course you win, your legs are longer than mine!” Demi huffed, catching her breath.

“Not in wolf form they're not! We're practically the same size in wild-shape.” Winnie chuckled playfully as she looked down at her friend before hearing a laugh behind them.

“Ha! That's funny, because I'm pretty sure even in wolf form you're the fattest one here!” One of the other children, a male human, mocked.  Two elven girls who'd been standing with him as they waited for their teacher, laughed loudly, not even trying to hold back.

“Haha..No one asked you Rowan.” Winnie growled, crossing her arms. Demi suddenly stood in front of her friend, glancing back at Winnie as if to say, ‘stay calm, he's not worth it.’ 

“That was mean, Rowan. You should apologize!” Demi scolded the human boy. 

“Why should I!? We all know the truth! Just look at her! I don't think I've seen anyone as fat and ugly as her in the entire grove!” Rowan exclaimed.

“No one cares about your opinion Rowan. It's not like anyone wants to be your girlfriend so shut up!” Winnie snapped at him. Rowan chuckled with a mischievous shit eating grin on his face.

“It's not an opinion, it's a fact. You're so ugly that I doubt anyone will ever want to be with you without throwing up!” 

Demi looked over and noticed the enraged expression on the human girl’s face. “Winnie don't!” She warned. 

Winnie gritted her teeth and let out a wolf-like snarl before lunging at the rude boy, socking him right in the nose before pouncing on him and repeatedly punching him in the face. As Winnie nearly beat the snot nosed brat to death one of the elder druids rushed over. 

“What's going on here!?” She demanded. The druid was an older half-elven woman. 

“Winnie’s trying to kill me!” Rowan sobbed. The half-elf druid dragged Winnie off the boy. She glared at the woman like a feral animal, teeth bared.

“Get off of him you wicked unruly child!” The old half-elf hissed and suddenly smacked Winnie across the face.  The sound of a slap got the attention of the Grove's Archdruid who'd just arrived to help with the apprentices’ lesson for today.  The old human woman's eyes immediately landed on Winnie who had a red mark across her face. 

“What in the hells do you think you're doing to my granddaughter, Myra!?” The Archdruid demanded.

“That girl of yours is a rabid beast, Winnifred! She just attacked my nephew!” Druid Myra stood in front of Rowan protectively. 

“I thought I was going to die!” Rowan added. 

Winnie’s Grandmother turned back to look at Winnie who was panting from the scuffle. 

“Is this true, Winnie?” The Archdruid asked calmly.

“I-I…” Winnie muttered, feeling rather ashamed for her outburst. Demi quickly scurried over to the Archdruid and tugged on her robe. Winnie’s Grandmother leaned down and  allowed the gnomish girl to whisper in her ear. 

“Demi here says that boy of yours provoked my granddaughter. Perhaps you outta teach him some manners so he doesn't get his arse kicked.” 

“You're letting her get away with this!? After she assaulted my nephew!? Unbelievable!” Myra hissed before tugging Rowan along.

“That girl's nothing but a weed amongst the flowers. Ugly and vile…” The old druid hissed. 

“Yeah, yeah blow it out yer arse, ya old bitch.” The Archdruid rolled her eyes as she stood in front of Winnie and Demi.

~~~~

Years later Winnie was prowling the streets of Baldur's Gate alongside her tressym companion Madeline. Winnie had a sack full of food in one arm and she and the winged cat sprinted across the cobblestones. 

“Hurry Winnie! He's coming!” Maddie called hopping up and hovering over the ground. Winnie glanced back seeing the merchant running after them.

“Come back here you thieving whore!” He shouted. The merchant had been a large human male with a thick beard. Winnie had seen him arrive on a boat a few days prior and just couldn't help herself when tempted to poke around his ship.  Unfortunately, the young woman was definitely no rogue, so the merchant was able to spot her sneaking off the boat with a sack full of goodies. A wheel of cheese, some fine cuts of meat and wine! The contents were just too tempting to pass up! Not to mention there was enough in there to feed her and the rest of her crew. Arva would be proud of her for sure! She just had to make it to the sewers. 

Unfortunately just as Winnie dashed for the man-hole that would be her ticket back to the undercity she bumped into a tall handsome half elf man, with jet black hair and green eyes.

“What's going on? Is someone hurt?” The man asked. 

“I-I…I um.. I'm in trouble…” Winnie blurred, both confused by the collision and flustered by whom she collided with. His features were soft and nearly flawless. 

“There you are, you ugly bitch!” The merchant suddenly caught up to Winnie. Maddie quickly dropped to the ground in front of the human girl and hissed, protectively. 

The half elf man quickly stepped between Winnie and the merchant. “Afternoon sir, does there happen to be a problem?” He asked.

“That wench stole from me!” The merchant hissed. 

“I need to feed my family!” Winnie exclaimed, stepping back behind the half-elf. 

“Sir, can you not find it in your heart to give to the needy?” 

“Needy!? She looks like she eats twice that much in a day!” The merchant shouted. Winnie glared at him, sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry.

“Here, how about I take care of the expenses? Say 50 gold pieces for your trouble.” The half elf offered, taking out a coin purse.  The human man grumbled under his breath.

“I suppose…But I better not catch that bitch around my ship again or I'm getting the fist!” The merchant snatched up the money before stomping off. Winnie let out a sigh of relief as the half-elf turned towards her. 

“Thank you, sir.” She responded, her pink eyes lingering over his handsome face. 

“You might want to be a little more careful next time, miss. That merchant’s not likely to forget having to chase you across town.” The handsome man smiled at her warmly.

“Y-Yes! Of course! I-I'm very grateful you came to help.” Winnie sputtered, face turning pink as her heart pounded in her chest. “I-I uh…..Here…Take this!” Winnie said, taking a bottle of wine out for him. “It's the least I could d-”

“Feris! The hells have you been!?” Suddenly a woman’s voice shouted, loudly. Winnie looked to the side to see a very unhappy looking elven woman. 

“Sorry my love. I was just speaking to this kind young woman!” Feris replied, his face growing nervous. 

“Again!? This is the third time you've ran off with some harlot, Feris!! You cheating wretch!” The elf hissed. 

“N-No my dear! It's not like that! I-I would never jeopardize our love for someone so repulsive!” Feris sputtered out frantically. Winnie’s eyes widened and her heart sank. It seemed the handsome stranger who'd come to her rescue was just like all the other shallow prick’s she's met. 

“Well I suppose my repulsive ass will be taking the wine back then.” Winnie said flatly, snatching the wine back before stomping off, her tressym quickly following. Winnie proceeded to climb back into the sewers, leaving the unfaithful man alone to be berated by his wife. 

The teen girl and her winged cat carefully wandered through the rank sewers before making their way into the undercity. Eventually they stopped in front of what appeared to be a seemingly normal brick wall. Winnie placed a hand over the bricks, taping them firmly to a specific rhythm before suddenly pressing down on one far to the right. The wall began to sink down, opening to a large cavern. Winnie walked inside with Maddie following. The bricks quickly closed behind them as they entered. 

“Guys, I'm back!” Winnie called, walking into a large room with a bright shining ball of light floating above it, Illuminating the cavern. Under the light was a lush garden, with a small tree at the center. A tall effeminate looking high elf male was tending to the garden, long luscious blonde locks draped over his shoulder as his beautiful blue eyes glanced up at the girl. 

“Winnie! Sweetie, welcome home! I hope Fi’s errand didn't give you too much trouble?” He asked, voice soft and sweet sounding. 

“Ah..No Vesperr. I didn't have any trouble at all. I got the meat and wine she wanted.” Winnie looked off shyly as the high elf druid approached her. A gentle hand ruffled her hair, affectionately.

“Well, that's good. I was worried she was sending you off into danger. I don't see why that bard can't just eat the food from my garden instead of…dead animal flesh.” Vesperr grimaced. 

“It's not an issue really. I'm happy to help everyone.” Winnie forced a smile. 

“And that's why you're the best, sweetheart!” Vesperr said, pinching Winnie’s cheeks. 

“Ah..Thanks um…Is Bekk back yet?” Winnie asked, cheeks turning a bit red, from the elf’s affection.

“Oh, my darling won't be back until later. He and the boss are taking care of some private matters. Troubles with one of the guilds I suppose.” Vesperr said, flipping his long blonde locks. 

“Well…I want to talk to him when he gets back. He promised to help me practice some sword fighting.” Winnie stated as she began to walk away, eyes glancing back at the elf with a sad longing.

“I'll make sure he finds you when he arrives home, sweetie!” 

~~~~

“None of my peers ever took interest in me growing up. Honestly a lot of them found me repulsive and had no problem telling me to my face. Eventually I just gave up on the prospect of romance entirely.” Winnie leaned back, taking out a bottle of wine from her pack and chugging it. 

“Ah what do those assholes know! You're fucking gorgeous Winnie! I'd date you in a heartbeat!” Karlach huffed, steam coming off her body.

“Thank you Karlach.. I'm flattered but…. I just…erm…” Winnie wasn't sure how to put it. 

“Winnie isn't interested in the fairer sex, Karlach. I doubt she'd like being burned alive either.” Astarion chimed in, leaning closer to Winnie.

“Oh, don't worry Fangs. I'm not about to try to steal Winnie from you.” The tiefling winked at him, noticing his arm slinking around Winnie’s waist.

“As if you could steal anything from me.” The elf rolled his eyes. Karlach just smirked at Astarion's blatant jealousy.  

“She is right though. Only an idiot would find you less than enticing.” Astarion purred in Winnie's ear. His hand moved some of her messy brown locks out of her face. Winnie blushed a bit, a small smile forming on her lips. 

“Such a pretty smile.” Astarion leaned closer to the druid female almost climbing on her. His face was full of lust and seduction, but for a moment Winnie could catch a glimpse of what looked like sadness. Astarion quickly resumed his alluring persona, not wanting Winnie to catch on to his intentions.

“Well, I believe it's time I retired for the evening.” Gale said standing up and exiting the shack. 

“Me too. We'll need our strength for tomorrow.” Wyll said as Lae'zel silently followed him.

“Yes, rest would be good. Come along Karlach.” Shadowheart said getting up. 

“Awe, but I was comfortable here.” Karlach whined.

“Come on, I'm sure Clive will be missing you.” The half elf said. 

“Oh alright.” Karlach hopped up and followed after them, leaving Winnie and Astarion alone. 

The pale elf smirked and climbed on Winnie’s lap kissing her neck as soon as the others left. 

“You don't have to do this, you know.��� Winnie said, shivering as she felt the vampire’s lips moving down her neck. “You don't have to touch me just because you feel bad for me.” Astarion stopped and grabbed her chin, making her look at him.

“This isn't about pity, my dear. It's about lust. I want you. All of you.” He pushed her down on her back, causing her to squeak as he hovered over her. “I honestly feel insulted that someone would even think of calling your lovely body repulsive.” Astarion said, cupping Winnie’s breasts gently, causing the human woman to gasp. “So soft and sweet. It's on my mind ceaselessly these days.” Astarion leaned down and licked Winnie’s neck. 

“Astarion…” The brunette breathed out, feeling her vampiric companion grinding himself against her.

“Yes, my sweet?” Astarion breathed against her neck. 

“Kiss me?” She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes. Astarion simply smiled and pressed his lips to hers. He couldn't fathom why, but he felt the need to comfort her, to let her know how beautiful he thought she was. It was a strange urge; one he wasn't quite sure he liked. Perhaps he could use this to keep her wrapped around his finger at the very least. Winnie’s arms made their way around his neck, hands playing with his soft ivory curls. 

“Ahh!” She moaned, feeling his cold hand slip into her pants and begin to stroke her wet folds. A single finger sliding inside her and making her whimper. Astarion took the opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth, silencing her with his kiss as he continued to play with her womanhood.

That was it, he was just ensuring her loyalty. He needed her to fall for him after all. To make sure she'd never betray him. The elven vampire pulled down her pants, along with his own. He broke the kiss, looking down at her with soft eyes. He could hear his master's voice whispering in the back of his mind. 

She'll hate you for this.

Astarion ignored it, forcing a smile as he looked down at his lover, his hand cupped her face as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Look at me, darling. I want to see all the beautiful faces you make while I take you.” And with that he slowly began to push in. Winnie gasped, biting her lip as he stretched her walls. Definitely not as painful as the first time, but there was a slight sting as he pushed all the way in. Winnie gripped his shoulders, taking a moment to adjust before she pushed her hips up against him, edging him on. Astarion needed little encouragement before he began to thrust into her, beginning slowly and gently. The druid pulled him in for another kiss, licking his bottom lip as he rolled his hips with a soft groan. She peppered his mouth with sweet loving kisses as her hands returned to his hair. Their tongues wrapped around one another as the pale elf began to pump himself harder into her, making her moan into his mouth. Winnie threw her head back and cried out as she felt him hit her sweet spot. 

“Oh gods…” Winnie gently tugged his hair, resulting in Astarion thrusting into her once again, hitting the same spot as he bottomed out. 

“Ahhh…Ahhh..” Winnie tilted her head, exposing her neck to him, and giving him an invitation to bite. Astarion almost immediately bit down into her neck, fangs piercing her flesh as her sweet, delicious blood filled his mouth. “Fuck!” Winnie cursed, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. Astarion moaned against her neck, hips bucking against her harder and faster with each thrust.

Others might have been completely repulsed by the wolfish druid, seeing her as not worthy of even a lustful glance. But to the vampiric rogue she was absolutely delicious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phew! Finally got this out. Sorry for the hold up on fanfics, burn out is rough. Thought it would be good to delve into Winnie's backstory a bit. Hope you enjoyed this one!

~Druid

Taglist: @vixstarria , @paganwitchisis , @kerwin290710 , @anukulee

[ceremorph0sis]

We've Made It, My Dear

Pairing: Gale x Drow!Dark Urge (Named)

WC: 1.9k words

Tags+Warnings: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Post-Canon, Happily Ever After, Hurt+Comfort, Nightmares, Mentions Of Gore, References To Death, Dark Urge Storyline Spoilers, Epilogue Spoilers

Author's Note: First time in a WHILEEEEE I've actually written something, and I'm pretty proud of it! Even while on the Dragon Age: The Veilguard hype train, I'm still enamored with BG3 and the Forgotten Realms haha. Didn't edit this brute, but I did look at it and nod approvingly before finally posting. Please let me know if I missed any tags or warnings. Enjoy!

It wasn’t the weight of the tressym on his chest nor the gentle breeze whispering through the open window that awoke Gale. It was the absence of a warm, familiar body by his side.

The milky moonlight spilling into the bedroom framed his belongings -their belongings- a cool silver hue, sharply contrasting the blots of darkness Gale’s eyes hadn’t yet attuned to. A deep sleeper, Gale wasn’t prone to waking in the night, but when he did, it always amused him to see how Nobody passed her time while waiting for him to stir. Some nights, she would read by his side, her pitch-black gaze flitting across every word with more ease than it would in daylight. Other times, she’d patter about the room as stealthily as a drow could manage, inspecting the manner of trinkets and artefacts he had collected over the years. Tonight, she was nowhere to be seen.

Gale carefully shifted Tara off his front and pushed back his blanket, affording himself a quiet congratulations for managing not to wake his fussy companion. Carefully setting his feet on the cold hardwood floor, he navigated the cluttered pathway from his bed to the door, each footfall as silent as the last. He reached for his housecoat, which typically hung from the doorknob, only to find it missing.

He frowned slightly as he turned the knob and made his quiet exit. Down the hallway and to the right, the glow of a gratuitous amount of candles emanated from downstairs. A somewhat concerning sight, knowing that Nobody was as at home in the darkness as she was in light.

The journey to the first floor was a mite more hurried than his escape from the bedroom had been. As he descended the last few steps of stairs, Gale examined the living room. Fully lit. Not a soul to be seen.

“Straj… Sorry, love. Get back to bed. I won’t be far behind you.”

Gale whipped his head towards the kitchen entrance. His startled heart calmed slightly when he saw that it was only Nobody, her grayish-white hair still mussed from sleep, as his must have been. She leaned against the doorway with a guilty smile and his own housecoat wrapped snugly around her frame, yet her eyes told a different story than what her casual demeanor sought to imply.

Nonetheless, Gale sighed in fond annoyance, crossing his arms. “Well, bully for my students, I suppose. They’ll ask me tomorrow, ‘Professor Dekarios, did you get even a wink of sleep last night? You look positively dreadful!’ And I’ll have no choice but to tell them the truth.”

“Oh?” Nobody purred, amused. “What would that truth be, sweetmeat?”

Wandering carelessly to the sofa before the hearth, Gale sat himself down, leaning back on its arm and lifting his legs onto the cushions, spreading them just enough for a lithe drow to slither between and rest her head on his waiting chest.

“That Mrs. Professor Dekarios cruelly abandoned her husband in the cold,” Gale answered simply, eliciting a snort from Nobody. “Don’t you try and tell me that Tara would gladly be my blanket on your behalf. We both know that she’s only a cuddling type at the most inconvenient of times.”

Just as expected, Nobody quickly caught onto her opportunity. She sauntered over with eagerness and slid into her rightful place, a territory she often playfully bickered with Tara over. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she basked in his warmth, the harried expression she worked to hide beginning to melt.

With one hand, Gale lavished her back with slow, languid strokes, the curves and dips of her body flowing familiarly beneath his touch. His other cradled her head with the tender care of a man who had seen her at her worst; who had seen her slick with the blood of innocents, watched as she writhed and thrashed against the bindings he himself tied to keep her from slaughtering him where he stood and cried wordlessly at her corpse after her last stand against her unholy father, the God of Murder. He held her as if after everything she did in the past, in another life, she still deserved comfort. Care. Love.

To Gale Dekarios, formerly known as Gale of Waterdeep among his peers, she truly did. The Dark Urge and Chosen of Bhaal, in his humble opinion, had died at the hands of Orin the Red years ago, back before their adventure had even brought them together. The woman he had met who lay in his arms was his wife, Nobody Dekarios, who had yet to come up with a proper name for herself, always promising him with a cheeky grin that she’d ‘get to it eventually.’

And he’d be damned to the Nine Hells before he let any matter trouble his incorrigibly mischievous, indescribably wonderful wife, no matter how inconsequential.

Or how early in the morning. Or late in the night. Gale hadn’t a single clue what time it was, and frankly, he was hesitant to find out.

“My love,” he said delicately.

“Mhm?”

“Is something bothering you?”

Nobody’s eyes flicked open, her steady breathing hitching. The slight furrow in her brows from earlier returned to her face. The smile on her lips became that much more strained and her eyes refused to meet his, as far as he could tell.

“I’d rather not keep you from your beauty sleep, sweetmeat,” she chuckled uncomfortably.

“Hm… I see. If it’s something we can’t solve with a fireball, you can tell me,” he chided her, gentle yet clear. Nobody rarely took her own issues seriously. Gale learned early on that she often needed a little time to come to terms with what she faced before talking her emotions out.

The corners of Nobody’s eyes crinkled as she exhaled a little laugh at his joke. “Gods, now that I’m awake, it seems rather stupid.”

“My love, the stupidity of your troubles matters not to me.” Gale gave her hair a gentle tug, prompting her to look at him. “I’m here. You’re here. If it’s something we can solve right here and now, we’ll do it together.”

Nobody went silent for a while. She absentmindedly rested her cheek back to his chest, her brow knitting together in a different manner, thinking on how to word her problems out. All the while, Gale held her close, still stroking her back and toying with her hair as patient as could be. Her breathing grew even and her eyes closed, and Gale had almost thought that she had fallen asleep when she finally spoke.

“I- ugh. I had a nightmare.”

Gale’s hand paused its leisurely stroll down the planes of her back. Nobody seldom fell into true slumber, instead opting to go into reverie. As a drow, however, the sleep of ordinary folk was not unknown to her. It seemed that one of her off nights wasn’t as restful as she needed.

“It was… uncanny,” she continued quietly, looking to him once again. “Remember the first party Withers threw for us? We were there. Everyone was the same as they were at the time, happy and smiling and drinking. Except you.”

Gale tilted his head with curiosity. “Is this where the dream goes south?”

“I was- you were- it was sad,” though she laughed through her words, she was distant, trying to talk without thinking about what she was saying. “We did it- we finished off the Absolute, the Chosen, everything. But the crown… you wanted the crown. You wanted to challenge Mystra, so you did. You failed.”

“Your mirror image told me everything in your place: how you got the Crown of Karsus, how you fought Mystra for her domain and how she obliterated you. You gave me a letter I couldn’t bring myself to read. I tried to kiss you, and… nothing. I guess I forgot that it wasn’t you- just a projection. It told me before it disappeared, ‘I can see why I loved you.’ And then it was gone. You were gone.”

Nobody’s voice cracked on the last of her words. Despite his best efforts, Gale recalled the day that Nobody died. His heart shattered on the floor of that wretched temple when Nobody fell to the ground. He felt as if he was drowning, overwhelmed by everything in that moment. The smell of blood permeating his senses. The blank stares of the surrounding cultists, witness to the fall of two leaders in one day. The thoughts in his head, asking over and over why? Why now? Why, when we’ve finally come this far? Why so soon after I’ve only just found her?

“No Waterdeep, no Mrs. Professor Dekarios, no homemade hundur sauce,” Nobody laughed humorlessly. “And look at me, on the verge of tears because of a bad dream. You’re a patient one, sweets.”

“I love you.”

The words came out of Gale’s mouth without a single thought, as they tended to. Loving her was as easy as breathing and to say it was as natural as any spell. Still, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

With a soothing smile on his lips, he pulled Nobody into a kiss, taking in every facet of her being. From the way her long hair tickled his cheeks to the natural scent of her, all petrichor and night-blooming flowers, and even the small noise of surprise she made at his affection, she was breathtaking. Resilient, but most importantly, she was here. Home, in his arms.

They’d made it. The worst of their days were over. Perhaps not forever, but they could breathe easy and live and love each other while they waited for life to take them on their next adventure, whether it be the next Dekarios family reunion or another cult to battle against for the fate of the world.

Gale Dekarios was nothing if not profusely verbose. Even if his kiss had told her all she needed to hear and feel, he refused to let a single doubt plague Nobody’s mind. When she pulled away, he cupped her cheek, reveling in the sweet smile she spared just for him.

“Whatever the Gale in your dreams said and did, give him a good clip ‘round the ear for me next time you see him,” he said firmly, making her giggle. “If he starts sulking on about ambition and godhood again, let him sulk. If he believes that the mere chance of godhood is worth more than the most wonderful woman in this plane and beyond, then I consider that excellent news- more of that aforementioned woman for me to enjoy, I’d say. If I give you even a fraction of a fraction of the happiness you give me every day, then I can confidently say that we don’t need to worry about either what happened before or what could’ve been. Safe to say, the less you think about that prat, the better.”

“You’re not getting jealous of Dream-Gale, are you, sweets?” Nobody teased.

“Jealous? Hah! Hardly,” Gale sniffed. “Disappointed? Definitely. Furious at him for making you distraught? Absolutely, if you’ll pardon my pun. But I refuse to be jealous of a man who’s already fallen after flying too close to the sun. Who needs the sun, when I’m already able to hold the world in my arms?”

Nobody buried her face in his chest, hiding her expression. His love was always too modest for her own good.

“You… ugh. I love you too, but stop that.”

Gale grinned, kissing the crown of her head.

He didn’t plan to.

~Fin <3~

[wee-chlo]

I like the idea of Durge breaking free of the Bhaal taint and deciding to be resolutely Normal after that.

They get married to Gale and go to Waterdeep with him and meet his family ("first reunion I've ever been to with nary a serial killer in sight, darling" "very funny. Though honestly I haven't seen most of these people in awhile so anything is possible") And they just settle into being a house-spouse.

They take up baking and crochet and join a book club and go to the library all the time to check out books about Waterdavian history, because they know a lot about Baldur's Gate but not very much about Waterdeep. They learn a little bit of magic, enough for mage hand and dancing lights and find familiar, and sometimes Gale will get a visit from a little tabby cat between classes that bullies him into getting a snack or taking a break for lunch.

The two have date nights where they take walks through Castle Ward and they just talk. About their day or week, about something they learned or something a student did or a Very Strong Opinion about some established fact.

They have Scratch, and get an orange cat that Gale was sure would break the stigma of orange cats being stupid but he... didn't.

("You're a cat!" He says to the stupid thing as it sits on the top of the cupboard and screams. "Jump! It's what you do!"

"I think he needs help-"

"He absolutely does not!")

Gale relishes the opportunities he gets to fuss and pamper. To give little gifts that make Durge beam and blush. And Durge relishes the fact that they can be gentle. They can be kind. They can run a bath for their husband without picturing him drowning, or make a meal without worrying about what their knife hand will do.

They are peaceful, and normal, and happy.

[vitanithepure]

You need to stop treating fictional charcters like real people. Because at the end of the day Gale is not real and no harm comes to him, no matter who says what about him.

I am very well aware of this fact, thank you. I might be crazy, but not that looney.

With this out of the way:

You do realize though, that fictional characters don't exist in a vacuum, right? They are not based on a real person but have real person characteristics. Why do you think people cling this much to fictional characters? Mostly because they see something of themselves in them, because they share some of those experiences with them.

It's funny in a tragic way Gale suffers from what most real people do in real life - he makes goofy things, he smiles, cracks jokes and thus people don't care to look any deeper to see a person that is willing to let himself go and just die at the first opportunity given.

And ulimately, each person that felt close to his character because of this angle was just told "yeah, him sacraficing himself is the best option for him to give back to the world". Fuck that.

Also all the "weird" real life people who talk to much, know too much, cannot find a way to act in a conventional way sometimes? Yeah, screw their experiences as well, they "annoy the fuck out of everyone, haha".

Even a meaningles mechanic of giving him magic trash you find all over the place was turned into a joke. I got bullied to the point of deleting my post criticizing just that all those months ago, so I'm unwilling to discuss this again. I dealt with it by blocking all the obnoxious boot jokes.

You don't see the same disdain thrown at other fictional characters in this game. Nobody makes light of Astarion's or Karlach's trauma, nobody disputes if Shadowheart is suffering.

And you sure as hell don't see the developers that MADE the characters throw one of them constantly under the bus like Gale. It's mind boggling that some of them genuinely seem to hate their own creation this much. It's like they have no idea what that character even stands for.

I didn't expect to hear that from the owner and a fucking lead writer in a company, they should know better than to act as any random person on the internet lke this.

[bekaroth-reads]

Astarion x Reader/Tav x Gale pt 2

[So, just a heads up, this is kinda long and not proofread. Nothing too bad here, but there is some swearing and like one risky joke, so if that's not your thing, now you know :)]

There were plenty of things that you all needed to get done today…

And it was becoming more and more evident that little to none of it was going to happen.

Things were going well at first, but then you all found that brooch. It seemed to catch Astarion’s eye, and at the exact same time Gale’s senses for magic…well, sensed it.

The millisecond that they noticed the other eyeing the piece of jewelry, they shot forward to seize it. Astarion, being more dexterous managed to get to it before Gale did.

“Now, you wait just a moment! I saw that first!” Gale stomped his foot like a child.

“Well, I grabbed it first!” Astarion sneered and held it up like a bully taunting someone in a classroom squabble.

Gale sputtered around his words a few times, trying to get something out. But, he failed because of how angry he was. Eventually, he turned to you.

“Tav! Tell him how much I need that! You know how important magical items are to me at the moment!” He demanded pleadingly.

“Tav!” Astarion mockingly whined as he gave a dramatic pout. “Tell him he doesn’t always get what he wants.”

You huffed out in frustration. It seemed that the two of them had forgotten that the three of you were supposed to be finding a way out of the part of the dungeon you were in; an old wall had crumbled and separated you from the rest of the group as well as the way that you entered from, something that the other two seemed to have not notice from their bickering.

“How about the two of you talk to each other instead of trying to use me as a messenger.” You said as you went back to looking around the chamber for another way out, an action that at the moment consisted of you patting down the walls to try to find a hidden switch or something of the like.

“I’d rather not.” Astarion turned his nose up at the idea, both literally and metaphorically, before walking over to you.

“I must have a better look at my darling, little thing in a better light.” He purred as he grabbed your shoulders and moved you over by one of the lanterns that lit up the center of the chamber. “Stunning. Now that I’ve gotten that treat, look at this beauty I found.” He held up the little, gold framed jewel for you to admire.

“I found it. You stole it.” Gale corrected as he walked over, causing Astarion to clasp his hand around the brooch protectively.

“I need that magic. You both know why.” Gale pointed out, trying to calm himself and work through things rationally. “There’s plenty of nice pieces on the table. I’m sure that there’s something better than that little pendant.”

Astarion scoffed and squinted his eyes. “It’s been gods know how long since I have gotten something nice for myself! I found this, and I am going to keep it. Besides, some of us need magical items too. Who knows what sort of enchantment this might aid me with down the road.”

Gale, still trying to play to Astarion’s logic, reasoned, “See, that’s the catch. We don’t know what sort of enchantment is on that. Might even be a curse. Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! You are not going to pull that trick on me!” Astarion growled.

“Tr- trick?! What trick?!” Gale was blown away that response, more so at the accusation.

Astarion’s nose crinkled as he instinctively bared his fangs in a threat. “Telling me that I should hand this over because there might be a big, scary curse on it is practically the same thing as a parent telling their child they can’t eat a treat because it’s too hot!” Something changed in Astarion’s attitude after that outbursts, and he acted on the new idea by wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, and snarking, “And, we all know what a penchant you have for taking what obviously is mine.”

Gale visibly bristled looking back and forth between Astarion and you. Seeing that things were about to boil over, which would keep you from finding a way out of here for even longer, you tried to smooth things over.

“This is ridiculous!” You scold as you removed yourself from Astarion’s hold and walked back to the wall that you were searching before. While you were resuming the search, you called back, “Things would be a lot easier if you both learned how to share. It’s just a stupid brooch!”

“Pendant.” Astarion insisted pointedly punctuating the P. “Brooch is sooo… costume jewelry.”

“It’s a pretty thing with a pin on the back. Pretty sure that makes it a brooch.” You dismissed the correction with a shrug as you continue your task.

“Hate to admit it, but he’s right.” Gale chimed in. “There’s more pendant than brooch to it.”

Astarion gave an indignant noise, stood from the column he was leaning on, and crossed his arms. “Don’t you dare correct them!” He snapped at the wizard.

Gale’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “I was agreeing with you!” He shouted, then growled before smoothing his hands through his hair to try to calm himself down.

“Oh, I know.” Astarion now had clear amusement in his voice, before it switched back to stern, “But, you still don’t get to talk down to them that way.”

You actually laughed at that. “See? You two can agree on something when you put your minds to it.”

“Don’t you start in on it too.” Gale huffed at getting teased from both people he was stuck with for the foreseeable future.

“Now don’t sell us short. I’m sure that even though it might not be desirable, we could certainly work well with each other when push comes to shove.”Surprisingly, Astarion defended Gale, even if not directly.

“Please!” You rolled your eyes, “If there’s one thing the two of you love more than singing your own praises, is trying to pretend that you aren’t totally enthralled with a certain other member of our little party.”

“You?” They both flirted in sync, and side eyed the other for doing so.

“Each other.” You corrected, and were met with a cacophony of groans, retching, and denials.

The room went silent after that. You figured that you had finally been able to tune out the other two’s squabbling. So, with this new found quiet you went about your search. It was so nice to have a few minutes of peace that you almost didn’t notice how long it had been since you had heard something from either of them; suspiciously long. Just as you were about to turn around and see what was going on, a familiar set of scarlet eyes caught your peripheral attention.

“Astarion.” You groaned and went to move away, but bumped into something behind you.

“Come, now. We just got over here. Don’t leave us.” Gale chuckled as you turned around to face him.

The elf surprised you by rolling you all so that Gale was pushed against the wall, pinned in by his arms on either side, leaving you smooshed in the middle of them.

“Well, you see, darling, while you were over here having a tender moment and caressing the wall, we decided to teach you a lesson in manners,” Astarion giggled mischievously from where he rested his head on your shoulder.

“Yes, indeed.” Gale hummed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before continuing, “Proving once and for all that the thing that, may I remind you, you thought was impossible, can, in fact be achieved by-“

“Oh gods!” Astarion exclaimed exhaustively as he reached up and turned your face toward Gale, before moving his hand to the back of your head to push it forward, “Just kiss him already!”

Neither of you needed Astarion’s coaxing really. It did finally give you both the chance to act on some pent up feelings, though Gale did seem a bit shy about it still. Not, reluctant, more so giddy and not sure how to handle that. He gained his confidence soon enough, and pushed into the kiss so enthusiastically that you were sure you would fall over if Astarion wasn’t behind you, humming contently, seemingly enjoying the show.

Eventually, you were separated. “For heaven’s sakes, man! Let the poor thing breathe.” Astarion chuckled as he savored your labored breathing and the feel of your quickening pulse. “After all, a lonely sort like you needs to take things slowly.” He ran a finger down Gale’s cheek, “I bet you’re liable to blow any minute now.”

“Astarion!” You scolded his crassness.

“I was talking about his chest, darling.” You all knew that he wasn’t.

Gale snorted a single, annoyed laugh. “Well, I can say one thing about you. It seems like you took Tav’s words to heart and learned how to share.” He was clearly smug that he had gotten the first kiss out of the two.

“Hardly,” the vampire replied, “I just needed a way to shut you up.”

You scoffed at their antics and went to wriggle out of their hold, but were quickly stopped.

“Now, now, Tav.” Astarion tutted as you were spun around to face him, “Fair is fair.”

“He’s right once more.” Gale laughed as he weaved his fingers between yours and moved you other hand to rest on Astarion’s torso. “Not really sharing if only one of us gets a turn.”

Fanged grin clearly visible even in this slightly darkened corner of the chamber, Astarion looked like he was on the hunt. “Let me show you how it’s really done.”

You weren’t sure if he was saying that to you or Gale, but there wasn’t any time to truly wonder as you were once again being kissed by traveling companion that had been harboring the want to do so for awhile. It was interesting the differences between the two kisses. Gale’s was emotional and switching from soft to needy, like sparks of a firework shooting across your nerves. Astarion’s was steady, practiced, but relentless, like the steady heat of a campfire oddly enough given his cool body temperature. Both, however, were equally earnest.

After Astarion pulled away, with a playful little scrape of his fangs of course, there was a moment of you all standing there enjoying the intimacy of it all. You leaning onto Gale, Astarion leaning onto you, and the two of them holding you by holding each other. Astarion did start to get a bit squirmy with the though of being this vulnerable, so you decided to lighten things up.

“You boys know…” you hummed as you leaned further back on Gale and wrapped your arms around Astarion’s neck to pull him towards you. They seemed to be eager to hear what a you were thinking until you actually said it. “…it’s not sharing if we don’t all get a turn.” You snickered as you slid out from between them quickly, making them tumble into each other.

Still wanting to keep up their detesting façade despite everything that just happened, they both crossed their arms and faced away from each other. “Oh, come on. You both now how you actually feel.” You goaded.

Giving a dramatic sigh, Astarion shrugged. “Well, I supposed that if I really had to-“

“Oh, to hells with it!” Gale interrupted, then grabbed both sides of Astarion’s face, crashing their lips together so suddenly it made the elf yelp; not that he really seemed to mind it once he realized what was happening.

Or, so you thought.

Once Gale had let go, Astarion gave him a look that made both his and your blood run cold.

“How dare you-“ he hissed and took a step toward Gale, the latter stepping back in response.

There were a few deep, seemingly furious breaths from Astarion before he snapped, “I was supposed to kiss you first!” He lunged for the magician and repaid him the gesture he was given, but this time on his terms.

As if he was now totally placated by dazing Gale, he turned back to you, happy as a lark and chirped, “Now, let’s see. One from me to you. One from Gale to you. But, two between Gale and myself. Now, if my maths are correct, we have a few numbers to even up.” Astarion left Gale to reconnect to the real world as he walked over to where you had moved to.

“Are you really going to keep track of the exact numbers?” You moaned annoyed as you leaned onto the stone table in the middle of the chamber.

"Apologies, my dear, but once a magistrate, always a magistrate. Number crunching clings to me like a pox." He teased.

"Not to mention your need to constantly judge people." Gale added as he came to join the two of you.

Astarion was about to quip something back, but a loud crash put all of you on guard. You all went back off guard when you saw it was the others who had found a way to clear the rubble from the door.

They helped you through the little path they had cleared and were asking if there was anything of note in there.

"So what I'm hearing is other than a few trinkets, that whole room was a waste of time." Shadowheart sighed in frustration.

"Well, not a totally loss." Astarion started as he rummaged through his pockets, "I found..."

He paused when he couldn't find what he was looking for, then glowered at Gale. "You bastard! When did your take it?"

"I don't have it! And, don't you blame me for your clumsiness! You probably dropped it while we were climbing through the rubble!" Gale snapped back, leading to the two of them bickering once again.

"What are they looking for?" Shadowheart asked.

"Oh, this." You pulled the accessory from you pocket.

"Cool looking brooch." Karlach noted as you held it up.

"Pendant!" Gale and Astarion insisted as they rushed over to take it back from you.

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 5: Doubt

Summary: Tav tries to be a hero. Astarion is himself.

Chapter Warnings: PG-13. Tav has a panic attack but it happens from afar and is only vaguely described. Descriptions of gore and violence. Full tag list on AO3.

Tag List: DM me or reply to a chapter if you would like to be tagged in any updates!

1 . 2. 3. 4.

There was shouting up ahead. How fun. Perhaps there would be a fight, Astarion hoped. 

“Give us back Mayrina! We know you have our sister!”

Two loud angry men have cornered the doddering old granny from the Grove against an ancient tree. One braces a pitchfork threateningly at the unarmed old lady, the other clumsily brandishes a meat cleaver. It’s obvious to Astarion that these men are farmers, not seasoned highwaymen. Then the old woman spots Tav and the pleading begins.

“Petal! Please help me, I have no idea where their sister is,” she warbles feebly. It’s not enough to move Astarion, but Tav instantly jumps to the rescue. 

“Leave Auntie Ethel alone, she’d never hurt anyone!” Tav declares. Ethel, that was her name. 

“She’s with the hag!” One of the men yells. He lunges for Tav and Astarion springs into action, plunging his dagger into the man’s side. Beautiful blood spurts across Astarion’s leather doublet and the man crumples before him with a cry. It was going to be a good day. 

“Thank you so much sweetness,” Auntie Ethel coos once the two men lay dead before her. “They were looking for their sister, Mayrina, the poor girl who’s-“ she pauses for a moment, then her face splits into a crooked grin. “-The poor girl who’s staying with me.” Tav’s heartbeat picks up, hammering in her chest. Behind her, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion all exchange a dark look. 

“Do stop by my house. I’d love to thank you proper.” Auntie Ethel’s feline grin splits even wider as she vanishes in a puff of foul green smoke. Tav whirls around, immediately locking eyes with Astarion. 

“Holy shit. Auntie Ethel really is a hag, isn’t she?” Tav’s eyes are wide, her voice frantic. Astarion shrugs.

“I don’t spend a lot of time around old ladies. I take it this isn’t normal?” Astarion says. Shadowheart rolls her eyes. 

“No, it’s not normal to disappear in a puff of smoke after tricking a group of adventurers into killing your enemies!” Gale shoots back. 

“We just killed innocent men.” The color drains from Tav’s face as her body begins to tremble. “I need to sit down,” she says. Gods below. They were two strangers who attacked them. There are worse crimes. Astarion sighs and crosses his arms as Tav leans against a tree, trying to collect herself. This was a far cry from the girl who had fearlessly insisted they investigate a desiccated tomb, who had threatened Mizora until she left their camp in a blaze of flame, who had helped Lae’Zel bully a tiefling just yesterday. After a moment Gale follows her and begins speaking to her in a low, comforting tone. Shadowheart and Astarion exchange another look.

“Here I thought Tav was proving to be capable,” Shadowheart says to him in Elvish.

“As was I. She better pull herself together soon or I’m going back to camp,” he returns.

“Really? You’d abandon your meal so quickly?” Shadowheart gives him yet another withering side-eye.

“Of course not. I still need her,” he replies under his breath. The soft golden light of a Calm Emotions spell envelops them and they turn towards Tav, whose heartbeat is slowly returning to its resting rate. She straightens up and makes her way back towards them, Gale in tow.

“I’m sorry about that, everyone. I made a bad call,” she admits. Her face is still flushed with shame.

“The old woman is clearly a hag of some kind. Hag deals are notoriously deceptive and unfair, but even so, it could be worth listening to what Ethel has to say about our parasites,” Gale interjects. 

“We’ve come all this way. Might as well,” Shadowheart agrees, speaking in Common again. 

“She sounds powerful, too,” Astarion adds, also in Common.

“And Mayrina is with her,” Tav says. Astarion shoots her an annoyed look. “I’m not saying we have to help her, I’m just saying we should check it out,” she explains. 

“She’s ‘staying with Ethel’ because she almost certainly made a deal with her,” Astarion counters. “Mayrina is exactly where she wants to be.”

“Maybe. But let’s see for ourselves,” Tav urges. Astarion frowns, but it isn’t worth the fight. She will see that he’s right when they get to Ethel’s house. 

~

They pick their way through the sunny marsh in silence. Tav leads the way, followed by Shadowheart, then Gale, and finally Astarion, who brings up the rear. Tav’s kindness had served him well so far, but as Astarion trudges through the sticky, sucking mud he decides that Tav’s kindness is getting out of hand. He doesn’t like how willingly she extends her kindness to others. It makes her weak, easy to use. So far that had worked to his advantage, but would they be running after every lost soul they met on their travels? At least the hag could help them. What could this Mayrina do? Unless she knows how to control ilithid parasites or she has experience killing powerful vampire lords, Astarion doesn’t care what happens to her. 

Maybe he was wasting his time with Tav. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing after all. Maybe her sweet, soft heart would only get her killed. Or worse, get him killed. He cozies up to Gale, who has hiked his robe up around his knees to avoid the muddy bog. 

“I’m enjoying our long walks together, aren’t you, Gale?” Astarion says warmly, lowering his voice to a sultry hum. Gale looks over at him, confusion written plainly across his face.

“I am. In silence,” Gale says firmly. Astarion rolls his eyes. Wizards. Tav looks back at them and Astarion sees a clear flash of hurt flicker across her face. His stomach plummets and he feels a sharp stab of hatred for himself, but this is what he has to do. If Tav is too weak to handle this excursion, if she’s too busy fussing over strangers to advance his interests, then he will find someone who will. It doesn’t matter how nice she’s been to him. Or how well they get on. His literal skin is on the line. Unbidden, his mind conjures an image of what Cazador will do to him once he has him again and he grips the handles of his daggers until it hurts. Never again. 

Despite the bright, warm sunlight the wetland is eerie. There’s a marked stillness about everything that makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand. Astarion realizes that it’s completely silent: there isn’t a single note of birdsong, not a hint of animal life. A soft breeze ruffles his curls and he smells it: fresh blood.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart points to something up ahead just beyond a wave of marsh grass. Tav crests the small hill and stops dead.

Blood drenches the remains of what must have been a quaint little camp. The bedrolls are ruined, the linens stained beyond repair. The fire has long since guttered out, half-cooked sausages smoldering on the coals. Uneaten food and abandoned packs sit ripe for the taking amidst slick pools of coagulating blood. Curiously, there isn’t a single carcass to be seen. Tav picks her way gingerly through the mess, picking out a blood spattered lute from the wreckage.

“Care to play us a song?” Shadowheart jokes. Tav gives the instrument an idle strum and winces. “Not like this, it’s out of tune,” she quips. She slips the bloody lute into her pack and turns away, rifling through the soiled supplies. They silently join her despite the grisly scene. Times are hard and supplies are thin.

“What do you think did this?” Tav asks lightly. She’s trying to sound calm, but Astarion can hear the subtle strain in her voice. She’s scared.

“I don’t know,” Gale answers as he pockets some cheese. “But we shouldn’t stick around to find out.” They all murmur in agreement and quickly move on, picking a new path through the swamp. Whatever it was, it wasted all that lovely blood. 

For a while there is only the sticky slosh of their sodden footsteps through the muck. Astarion is sure his boots are ruined by now. Tav better buy him new ones. Then, the soft baa baaing of sheep reaches them. Sheep? In a swamp? The echoes bounce across the water in bright, distorted peals. Tav pivots them towards the sound.

The sheep are strange little creatures that toddle oddly over the grass. They almost seem sick. As Tav approaches them she bleats a loud, tremulous cry. One sheep baas back, a clumsy retort. Tav’s face stiffens and then reality as they know it melts before their very eyes. 

Rot assaults their nostrils as the grass beneath them withers and dies, sinking into thick, black muck. Warped, petrified trees spring from the ground to pierce the endless sky, which leeches to a stony gray. Fog begins to roll in, settling into an ominous haze that obscures what little they can still see. And the dumb faces of the sheep crack and splinter apart, revealing the hateful eyes of ravenous redcaps.

No one moves. The fey glares at Tav, fangs bared. Its companions size them up them but make no motion to attack. Tav takes a deep breath. 

“BAA!” She yells, her cry echoing impotently throughout the bog. 

The redcap’s face contorts. “Baa,” it growls back with barely concealed animosity. Tav strides confidently past the creatures and they all follow close behind her, Astarion giggling all the way. 

Once they are out of sight Tav’s self-assured composure collapses and she whirls to face them. “You saw that too, right?” She whispers, gesturing to the mire. 

“Oh yes, her spell is well and truly broken now,” Gale says. “A fancy bit of illusion magic that falls apart at the slightest inspection.”

“Almost like she wants it to,” Astarion says. 

“It’s an intimidation tactic. Lure in the fools but scare away those smart enough to see through her,” Shadowheart observes. 

“So which are we?” Gale asks.

“We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Tav says. Her brow is set, her jaw is firm. But her eyes dart about the swamp as if looking for an escape. “Unless you want to confront those redcaps again.”

“Then by all means, lead the way, Oh Fearless Leader.” Astarion gives her a mock bow and gestures forward with a flourish. Tav curtsies back, bending deeply at the knees and twirling imaginary skirts. But she swiftly brushes past him, her sweet heart rabbiting in her chest.

~

“Please Ethel, I just can’t eat anymore!”

Mayrina’s begging is getting on his nerves. Usually he likes it when someone other than him is forced to beg, but Mayrina’s whining is neither pretty nor amusing. It’s just pathetic. What else did she expect? She made her bed and now she has to lie in it. 

Tav seems to disagree. “You’re hurting her,” she says. “Do you treat all your guests like this?”

“She’s eating for two,” Ethel says contemptuously, her grandmotherly mask slipping. “But you should watch your tone, sweetie. That worm isn’t going to remove itself.” The threat is there, sharp and pointed. Mayrina snuffles loudly, drying her eyes on a handkerchief. Her hand rests protectively on her pregnant stomach. Tav eyes her, not completely cowed. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tav asks Mayrina gently.

“Busybodies are not welcome here. I’ll talk about your wriggler, but that’s it. Last warning,” Ethel interrupts. Something in the atmosphere drops and Astarion can feel the vibrating hum of wild magic in his fangs.

“She is a pregnant lady in distress. We can’t just stand by and pretend she’s not here!” Gale insists, his quiet fury palpable.

“You’re making it worse for her,” Astarion hisses. Auntie Ethel will punish Mayrina for their insolence. He knows the signs. “Let’s not make trouble for strangers. We have our own problems.”  Tav hesitates, considering his words. 

“Can you really remove it?” Tav asks Ethel.

“Quicker than you can say ‘yes Auntie.’ What do you say?”

“That depends on the price.”

“And that depends on the job. But I like you, petal. For you?” Auntie Ethel pauses, pretending to think. “I’ll take one of your pretty little peepers.” 

Tav recoils in horror. “You want one of my EYES?”

“Don’t be precious. You have two, don’t’cha?”

“Absolutely not! The deal is off,” Tav says. Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Please Auntie, can I just-“ Auntie Ethel gives an irritated wave of her hand and Mayrina vanishes in a flash of green. 

“That brat has had enough pampering for one day,” Ethel says scornfully. “Well then. Best be on your way now if there’s nothing I can do for you. But you know where to find me if you change your mind.” The old woman smiles her mean, fey smile as she shows them the door.

“That was a complete waste of time.” Astarion whines as they descend the stairs to Ethel’s house. “Can we go now?”

“Mayrina is still in there,” Tav says. “We can’t just leave her to the mercy of a hag.”

“I agree,” Gale says. “If that’s how she treats Mayrina in front of guests, then Auntie Ethel must be something truly special in private.”

“This place gives me the creeps. Whatever we do, let’s just wrap up our business here quickly,” Shadowheart says primly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Unless one of you wants to trade an eye for a dubious cure.” No one seems particularly keen.

“Darling,” Astarion begins, “I know you want to play hero like in one of your lovely little songs, but this is none of our business. The girl’s already made her deal.” Tav chews her lip.

“I know, but she’s made a bad one. Auntie Ethel is clearly hurting her. I can’t just walk away without trying to do something about it.”

“And what do you intend to do exactly? Kill a hag?” Astarion scoffs. On second thought, that might be pretty fun.

“I don’t know! Maybe, if it comes to that.” Tav swallows. “Maybe we can make another bargain for her or something. But if we leave now then we leave Mayrina to her horrible fate, a fate which we accidentally sealed.” She pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues. “We killed her brothers. We murdered innocents who were just trying to protect their sister. They may have been the only family she has. If we don’t intervene now, then no one will. We owe it to them and we owe it to her to help.” Astarion scowls.

No one had helped him. No one had intervened for him. His family, his friends, his colleagues, and his lovers had all left him to rot. No one had stopped Cazador from doing whatever he had pleased with him. Why did Mayrina, a foolish little stranger, deserve mercy and not Astarion? 

“I agree with Tav. We can’t simply turn aside,” Gale says. 

“As our leader commands then,” Astarion sneers as they all trudge back up the rickety stairs to Ethel’s home.

~

Astarion had been in worse places than Auntie Ethel’s Tea House, but not many. Auntie Ethel was a woman who delighted in tormenting people, who offered them hope, then twisted her help into a grotesque punishment for her own sick amusement. Astarion knew her type well. 

The depths beyond Ethel’s fireplace were both a prison and a torture chamber, where Auntie Ethel kept her brutalized victims suspended in magical bonds. Tav reviewed each cell with her characteristic thoroughness, poking around where she definitely should not. Gale’s eyes roamed Ethel’s chamber of horrors with a grim, clinical eye that belied a deep fascination with her magic. Shadowheart remained quiet, silently cataloguing Ethel’s creations with disgust. However, there were moments where Astarion thought she almost seemed impressed. 

But Astarion was right: there was nothing they could do for the hag’s victims. Tav tried to approach the only conscious victim, an elf, who was huddled in a corner whispering to himself. Tav bent down next to him, speaking sweetly in a soft tone. “Mindflayer!!” He shrieked, curling in on himself in an inconsolable ball. Astarion wanted to feel smug but he only felt a hollow emptiness as they left his elven kin quaking in the mud.

They followed the grotto, pushing past Ethel’s magic door and into a fetid, overgrown tunnel that spiraled into stinking depths. Clouds of poisonous fumes lingered in the cavern, choking them as they carefully picked their way forward. Eventually the tunnel opened up into a subterranean cave that shimmered with the light of bioluminescent stalagmites. Thick, twisted roots wound their way throughout the cave. Above them, a rotten cage hung suspended over a black abyss. Inside, Mayrina hiccuped and sobbed.

“You come into my home, interfere with my business, and now have the gall to barge into my private playhouse?” Auntie Ethel shrieks, materializing seamlessly out of the shadows. The sweet grandmother dissolves and a haggard, spindly witch lurches out of the darkness in her place. Her mouth gapes and yawns, her numerous teeth shining like terrible needles. “I’ll rip your spine out your arsehole!” She screams. Tav shoots Astarion a look and he nocks an arrow in his bow. “I’ll spice your blood to make my stew!” He pulls back the drawstring. “I’ll-" He lets the arrow fly and it strikes true, skewering Ethel where she stands. 

“You little shits!” She snarls, bilious blood gushing from her wound. The hag unravels and splits into dust. How easy, Astarion thinks.

“You want the girl so bad, take her!” A disembodied voice screeches as Mayrina's cage explodes in flame. Four new hags rematerialize from the darkness, each one of perfect copy of Auntie Ethel's hideous form.

“We have to act fast!” Shadowheart cries. Gale conjures a deluge of water, quenching the flames as a rush of black smoke fills the cave. They all cough and hack, momentarily blinded. Ethel strikes, clawing Gale across his abdomen. A sour, noxious scent fills Astarion’s nostrils as the wizard bleeds. Gale gives an agonizing cry, but rebounds quickly with a hard rap of his staff to the hag’s skull. The illusion unravels and splits, dematerializing back into the smoke. 

Meanwhile Astarion crouches down, easily blending into the smog. “Got some rat still stuck in your teeth, slave,” the witch whispers in his ear, her breath warm and rancid on his face. Ethel’s taunt hits him through his heart and he whirls around furiously, jabbing his dagger into any flesh he can. The mirage simply vanishes with an ugly chuckle. 

“There she is!” Shadowheart points across the chasm, unleashing a bolt of radiant magic into the air. This time Shadowheart strikes true and Ethel is sent reeling across the mossy floor. 

“Pretty clever, but not clever enough,” Ethel snarls. She gestures with her claw and suddenly Mayrina is cowering before them, transported from her wet cage. Her face warps and splits into multiple copies, an awful kaleidoscope of flesh. Each Mayrina cries and begs them not her hurt her. 

“I’m the real Mayrina!” One sobs. 

“Don’t listen to her, I am!” Another one chokes out.

“Mouthier than an arse and twice as full of shite,” Tav bellows. Ethel’s mask slides away as she recoils from Tav’s mockery. The real Mayrina collapses to the ground in a fit of hacking sobs. Astarion lunges towards the hag, putting his full weight behind his dagger as he plunges it into her stomach. 

“You’re one thirsty night away from betraying everyone!” She screams, ripping Astarion off of her. Astarion stumbles back and falls to the ground, his daggers clattering out of reach. Her words fill him with a torrent of awful emotions: rage, shame, despair, recognition. If he unpacks it all now he may die. 

Gale blasts the witch with Magic Missile and she severs herself again into three more copies, the real Ethel dissipating into invisibility. Suddenly Astarion’s limbs wrench themselves outwards of their own accord, locking him into place. He tries to fight it, but he’s trapped within the grip of a Hold Person spell, expertly cast by one of the hag’s shadows. He watches in frozen horror as another shoves Gale, who teeters on the brink of the pit. Shadowheart hurls flame at yet another, missing the hag by centimeters. A hag lunges at Tav, rending her open with its wicked claws. The enticing smell of Tav’s spilt blood fills his senses and he thrashes desperately in his magical bonds. He’s pathetic, helpless to do anything as they’re all slaughtered. 

Gale rallies himself and casts another round of Magic Missile, aiming his projectiles towards each individual apparition. The phantoms all shatter on impact, releasing Astarion from his magical bonds. He falls to his feet, snatching up his knives. 

Clutching her bleeding side, Tav pivots sharply and casts Faerie Fire, throwing the spell as widely as she can. The pink light of the ring illuminates Ethel’s hideous face, her invisibility spell broken. Shadowheart raises her hands for the coup de grace, necrotic energy sizzling in her fists. 

“Wait, lovelies,” Ethel gasps. “Killing me is a waste of time. I’ll find a way to return. Always have, always will.” She licks her thin lips. “But it’s unpleasant. So let’s be civil about this. After all, I have something you want.”

“Hah!” Tav barks a laugh. “This should be good.”

“Just wait until you hear my offer,” Auntie Ethel purrs. “Let me leave with the girl and her babe and I will give you power!” Her claws begin to shine with the sickly green glow of her magic. Now Ethel has Astarion’s full attention. “You want to be smarter?” She looks at Gale. “Wiser?” She turns pointedly to Shadowheart. “More dexterous?” She gestures to Astarion. “More charismatic? Done! It your choice, sweetness.” Well, well, well, what a delicious turn of events. 

“If you want your worthless little life, you’ll give me everything,” Tav orders, her voice like sharpened steel. “I want the girl and the power.” She advances on the hag, placing the blade of her rapier against Ethel’s bobbing throat. The air crackles with psychic energy, wreathing Tav in a vicious violet halo. 

“You greedy little shite,” Ethel sneers, sizing her up. There’s a moment of terrible stillness. 

“Fine.” 

Ethel reaches up to her oily scalp. There’s a wretched tearing sound and the hag hurls a chunk of something wet and hairy at Tav’s feet. It glistens in the muck. 

“But what about our deal? What about my husband?” Mayrina pleads. Her bloodshot eyes are ringed with smeared kohl.

“Deals off you dumb cow! And you have this one,” Auntie Ethel jerks a thumb at Tav, “to thank for it.” Mayrina rounds on Tav, rage flashing in her eyes. “But not to worry,” Ethel continues, “I’ll find another one just as plump and ripe. People always need lotions and potions,” she smiles wickedly.

“Good luck, auntie.” Tav jeers.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” She gestures to the sickening clump of skin, “It’s only the deal that counts,” Ethel replies. “Bye, bye, petal. I’ll not soon forget this,” she threatens ominously. Ethel disappears for good in a flash of foul green light. 

Tav bends down and plucks the slimy piece of hag scalp from the cave floor. Astarion considers her, regarding her with dark appraisal. She’s soft, but she has an appreciation for power and an eye for opportunity. Potential. He remembers how fascinated she had been with the Necromancy of Thay. Maybe she just needs some of his guidance. Some shaping. Together, they could take so much more than magical trinkets. Perhaps this hadn’t been a waste after all. 

“You miserable bitch!” Mayrina howls, rounding on them all. “You’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!”

“We saved you from a hag!” Tav yells back, incredulous. “She was mistreating you, we all saw it! Aren’t you happy to be free again?”

“I don’t want to be free! I want my husband back, alive and well!” Mayrina wails. 

“Ethel was never going to help you. I’m sorry Mayrina, but it’s the truth,” Tav replies adamantly.

“Yes she was! Soon my child would have been born and this nightmare would have been over!”

“I’m sorry, your child? You were going to give your baby to the hag?”

“Don’t you dare judge me!” Mayrina hisses. “I have nothing. My baby would have been raised in rags. This is the nicest dress I own.” She gestures to her filthy emerald shift. “Ethel would have given my child a good life. Taught them magic, even! More than I could have done.” Mayrina leans against a gnarled root, sagging in defeat and despair. She places a hand on her abdomen, rubbing soothing circles on her swollen stomach. She seems so young. 

“No she wouldn’t have, Mayrina. Hags never truly give you what they promise.”

“I didn’t bloody ask you!” Mayrina shouts, incensed once more. “Now I’ll never see my husband again. And I’ll have to drag his coffin and our baby back to our empty house through the mud all by myself! I hope you’re fucking happy!” Mayrina storms away, disappearing with her unborn child into the overgrown tunnel and up into the world. 

“Did we do the right thing, or did we just ruin that woman’s already miserable life?” Tav asks. She’s caked in dirt and blood. She doesn’t seem proud or heroic, she just seems tired. 

“Well, what’s done is done,” Astarion offers. “There’s no point dwelling on things you can’t change now.” 

Tav sighs. Astarion knows that she feels responsible for this mess, but in his experience it’s better to simply not reflect on things. If you don’t reflect, you don’t have to feel.

“Grief can be a bitter wound. It’s too fresh now, but once Mayrina has time and space to think she’ll see the great service you did for her,” Gale says soothingly. “With our help, of course.” Gale doesn’t wink, but Astarion can feel it in his smug voice. Tav smiles weakly back at Gale and Astarion almost pushes him into the chasm himself.

“It’s true. Most don’t see loss as a gift at first. But in time, those that accept my Lady’s blessings will find comfort in her embrace,” Shadowheart recites.

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” Tav sighs. Shadowheart says her lines dutifully but Astarion can see, perhaps clearer than the others, that her eyes are far away. 

“Besides,” Astarion chimes back in. “Just look at the delicious little snack you have now.” Lice skitters across the scalp, disappearing into the dirty hair. 

“Yummy,” Tav says flatly. 

“Unless of course, you’d rather give it to me?” Astarion pouts playfully. He’s joking, but he would also snatch the horrible scalp up in a heartbeat. 

Tav bumps him with her hip. “No way, it’s mine! Go find your own,” she laughs. He supposes it was worth a shot. 

~

Even the putrid air from the foul swamp seems fresh after Ethel’s lair. Everyone is exhausted and covered in refuse. All of them need at least two baths. They begin the long walk back to camp when a particularly disgusting wave of air hits them. Everyone recoils, but Astarion recognizes the awful smell: ironvine. A monster hunter is nearby. His lip curls. A Gur.

~

Chapter 6: Found

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

Head Full of Ghosts | Chapter 4: Bumps in the Night

Pairing: Astarion x Dark Urge

Summary: Takes place during the events of Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge, as well as the friendships and relationships she has with her companions. Plus, everyone gives shit to Gale about his cooking. Tags: Slow Burn, Angst, Pining, Humor, Violence, Friends to Lovers, Developing Friendships, Developing Romance, Spoilers for the Dark Urge and BG3 in general, Dark Urge as Original Female Character Rating: Mature (Will eventually be Explicit, just not there yet.) Current Chapter Count: 4/? Read on AO3 Current Word Count: 16,755

Author's Note: AND WE'RE BACK! I'm so sorry for not updating this fic in a hot minute. I ran into some gnarly writer's block going into the holidays and the new year, but I'm back on track. I even wrote two one shots featuring these two which can be found on my account. Please enjoy them, and this chapter, with my apologies. Thanks for sticking with me and these crazy idiots.

Astarion sat at the small round dressing table situated just outside his tent, fingers drumming idly against the worn wood as he leaned back in his chair. In his other hand, he held an open book outstretched in front of him, red eyes skimming across the pages.

Evening had settled in over the camp, bringing with it a chill in the air as the far-off rumble of thunder rolled in the distance. Candlelight flitted from a lantern he had set on the table, providing just enough light for him to feign interest in the words of his book. It was a collection of memoirs that had something to do with the dull and painfully tiresome life of an adventurer who had hunted a variety of beasts up and down the Sword Coast.

Or was it devils? Criminals, maybe?

Hells, he didn’t know. It was all terribly trite and uninteresting. The stories, if one could even call them that, were worth less than the paper they’d been printed on. At least they could burn the pages as firestarter for Gale’s cookpot.

Though…that was probably an equally ineffective use of the book. Gale was still a woefully dreadful cook, in Astarion’s opinion. Which was the only one that mattered, really.

The camp was abnormally quiet this evening, a stiff tension settling over them like a low-hanging fog that wouldn’t lift. The usual clamor and din of frivolous chatter and busymaking had been replaced by an eerie silence that was only broken by the pop and crackle of the central campfire.

Astarion could still hear Wyll’s accusatory bellowing reverberating in his mind. The vampire had burst into camp, alone except for an unconscious Eli who hung limp in his arms. He’d been calling for Shadowheart when Wyll came striding up, all pomp and lofty.

“What did you do!?” the warlock-turned-devil had demanded, reaching out as if to wrest Eli from Astarion’s arms.

Astarion had jerked her away from Wyll’s outstretched hands, snarling.

“I didn’t do anything! Get out of my way! Where is Shadowheart!”

He had tried to bully past Wyll, but the warlock grabbed his arm, working to hold him back.

“Where are Gale and Lae’zel? What in the hells happened!?” he’d berated.

Astarion wheeled on him with a vicious and manic grimace.

“Touch me again and I’ll become the monster you so desperately want me to be,” he’d spat with a low growl.

“What is going on – Nightsinger’s embrace!”  

Drawn by the commotion, Shadowheart had approached and then stopped dead, eyes wide as they landed on Eli’s unconscious form. She directed Astarion towards Eli’s tent, waving off Wyll who had still been asking questions that weren’t helpful to the situation at hand.

“Lay her down on her bedroll. What happened to her?” Shadowheart asked as she and Astarion had approached the tent.

He explained about the encounter with the hunter and how Eli had charged the man just as he’d been taking aim at Astarion, resulting in a poisoned crossbow bolt to her shoulder. Despite the wound, Eli had surged forward, launching an Eldritch Blast ahead of her which took the man off his feet before he could reload for another shot.

Astarion had followed, cursing Eli for her foolhardy rush to play hero. The bolt had been meant for him, and if she got herself badly injured or worse during this debacle, he was going to be the one to have to explain everything to the rest of the freakshow menagerie back at camp. He was already on loose footing with the lot of them, the revelation of his vampirism having gone over about as poorly as he’d expected. Between the jabs, the glares and the threats, the only thing that had calmed everyone was Eli’s insistence that he was trustworthy.

Both Astarion and Eli didn’t mention the small detail of how he’d crept up on her while she lay in her bedroll, fully intending to set upon her while she slept. She had an odd definition of trustworthy…

The last thing he needed was for her to get herself wounded on his account. Which meant that was exactly what would happen, because when he got right down to it everything in his life amounted to nothing more than a shit stain in the annals of history. Nothing ever swung his way, so why not add to it getting the one person who seemed remotely okay with his existence killed?

Astarion’s jaw clenched as he stared at the open book in front of him, candlelight causing shadows to dance and flicker upon the page. He’d taken leave of Eli’s tent after laying her on the bedroll for Shadowheart to examine. The cleric had indicated she’d be able to heal the wound to Eli’s shoulder after they dosed her with an antidote.

Hesitantly relieved, Astarion had walked to his own tent, noting that both Gale and Lae’zel had returned and were currently engrossed in a conversation with Wyll as he questioned them for details about their trip to find Ethel. Ignoring the trio, Astarion had grabbed the first book he could find and set about making himself look busy in hopes they’d all just leave him alone after the events of the evening. He was agitated by the restlessness stirring in his gut, and every so often his eyes would flick to the closed flap of Eli’s tent which was situated across the camp from his own. The panic from earlier had settled into a vexed sort of impatience that sat heavy in his chest. His mind wandered to the other night, when he’d come upon Eli in the ruin and they’d sat together, talking. It had been…nice, just to sit and talk without all the tension and pressure of having to lure someone back to the mansion.

His nights in the city were always pressed by the driving need to bring some poor fool back for Cazador, less he be punished in any number of agonizing ways for his failure. The last time he’d returned to the mansion without a mark, Cazador had forced Astarion to peel the skin from the soles of his own feet and walk endlessly through the filth-infested kennels for three days. He’d trudged the same path, over and over, stepping on rocks and bone splinters and all manner of refuse and sewage. When he was finally released from Cazador’s thrall, he’d sank to his knees and howled out in wretched anguish, able to at last release the screams of pain that had been burning in his lungs for the past days as he wept silent tears and walked. Walked. Walked…

That had been only a week or so before the mind flayers captured him…

Astarion breathed in slow, not needing the air that filled his lungs but calmed by the action, all the same. He shoved the vile memories of Cazador and his enslavement down into a deep pit within himself and tried to think of other, less miserable things. The Barrel-Aged Callidyrran Eli had given him the other night, now tucked away in his tent unopened. It had been a strange thing, to be given something and told there was no expectation upon him to return the favor or provide any sort of reparation. He still wasn’t sure he trusted the gesture, but Eli had not brought the matter up since.

He wondered if she knew he couldn’t exactly drink the wine…or, well, not without adding a bit of blood, anyway. Otherwise it would just taste foul. Another side-effect of his condition. He vaguely recalled having enjoyed the drink once, and like all of his vague recollections he clung to that knowledge with a vice grip, desperate to not lose anymore of himself.

What the hell did Eli get out of all this, anyway? Giving him gifts, vouching for him to the group, letting him feed on her, literally throwing herself in front of a crossbow bolt for him. It frustrated him that he couldn’t parse her intentions.

Astarion’s eyes darted back to her tent, noting that the flap remained closed. He set his jaw, grinding his teeth in thought.

“She’ll be fine, fangs, don’t worry. Shadowheart’s got it under control.”

Astarion’s head jerked in the direction of Karlach, who was standing a few feet from his tent, arms crossed as she peered at him with a small smirk.

“And, hey, if she does end up kicking it, we’ve got weird cryptic skeleton guy who says he can bring people back from the dead, easy-peasy.” Karlach gestured over her shoulder towards Withers with a thumb. “Not sure if I’d bet my own life on the creepy bone man, but it’s an option.”

Astarion frowned at the tiefling who simply grinned back at him. His eyes dropped back to his book.

“I wasn’t worried,” he said flatly.

“Ooooooh, okay. I get it.”

Astarion quirked an eyebrow curiously at Karlach’s reply, looking up just in time to see her wink.

“Wasn’t aware not being able to read was one of those vampiric side-effects, but not to fret. I’ll teach you,” she said, barely able to suppress a laugh beneath her words as she continued to smile with a knowing look that made Astarion shift in his chair.

“What in the hells are you going on about?” he barked, both a bit indignant and confused.

Karlach uncrossed her arms, placing one on her hip and indicating his book with the other.

“You haven’t turned a single page since you sat down,” she explained. “So, you’re either the most eloquently illiterate person I’ve ever met, or your attention is elsewhere.” She jerked a thumb towards Eli’s tent and Astarion scowled at her.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he snapped the book closed and dropped it unceremoniously on the table. Taking that as an invitation to join the vampire, Karlach sauntered over and grabbed the other bistro-style chair at his table. She flipped it backwards, straddled it, and sat, crossing her arms atop the chair back and leaning forward.

Astarion watched her curiously, but said nothing as she situated herself at the table. He and Karlach had exchanged pleasantries and idle chatter since she’d joined their little traveling circus, but he didn’t really know much about her. Well, other than the whole engine-for-a-heart-so-she-could-break-people’s-spines-in-the-hells business. She seemed friendly enough, but Astarion knew all too well how easy it was to put up a sociable front.  

“I’m just tired of all the accusations and suspicion,” he grumbled, pointedly not looking across the camp towards where Wyll was sewing up a patch in his leather armor. “It’s not like I’m Gale, treating our collection of expensive artifacts like his own personal candy store.”

Karlach chuckled and Astarion leaned back in his chair, expression softening just a touch as he stared at the flickering candle of the lantern.

“I haven’t done anything, I just exist. And that’s always enough to disappoint people,” he said, voice low and sharp.

Karlach hummed, considering his words for a moment before she spoke.

“Well, I for one am glad you’re with us, and I know that one is, too.” Karlach nodded her head towards Eli’s tent. “You did good today, soldier.”

Astarion eyed the tent thoughtfully, feeling a bit less dour than he had earlier. He straightened up attentively in his chair when he noticed the entry flap being pushed aside. Shadowheart emerged and, seeing both Astarion and Karlach focused in her direction, began walking towards the pair.

“She’s resting and should be recovered come morning,” she said, waving off Karlach politely as the tiefling rose and offered Shadowheart the chair she’d been using.

Astarion felt a tension he hadn’t even been aware of, ease from him as his posture relaxed.

“Told yah,” Karlach said, giving him another one of her unsettlingly knowing smirks.

“Well,” he said, shifting slightly under both of their gazes. “I’m glad.”

A look passed between Karlach and Shadowheart that Astarion couldn’t quite read. He frowned up at them, but they remained impassive.

“Come on, Shadowheart. With Eli tucked in for the night, we have free rein on the wine!” Karlach spun on her heels and started off towards the camp’s stash of supplies with Shadowheart strolling behind her.

Astarion watched them go, quietly mulling over an idea that had slowly begun to form in his head. He remained where he sat for a long while, uncertainty darkening the lines of his face, before he shook his head with a small grimace and stood.

Turning, he entered his tent, eyes casting about in the gloom for something…

_________________________________

Eli was starving.

She could think about little else as her stomach roiled, slowing churning its own acids around and around. She was past the point of uncomfortable hunger, her gut spasming angrily with a ravenous nausea.

How long had it been since she last ate? Days? A week? She wasn’t sure…

A sickly convulsion gripped her abdomen and Eli sank to her bare knees, heaving bile onto the cold and dingy stone floor. Sweat dripped from her forehead and neck as her body revolted against the lack of food. She vomited until there was nothing left, coughing and hacking as the last dry heaves calmed.

She leaned back and suddenly felt lightheaded, swaying where she knelt then toppling backwards. She felt the back of her head collide with a solid wall, the sharp pain a momentary distraction from the ache in her stomach.

Eli stayed slumped against the wall, too tired to do much else. She could smell the sour stink of her own stomach bile mixed with a dank and stale scent of rot and decay. Blinking against a darkness so deep that even her darkvision struggled to cut through, Eli tried to remember where the hell she was.

Her head was swimming, dulled by dehydration and vicious hunger. She was so confused…

Footsteps echoed from somewhere distant and a flighty panic stirred in her chest. She was afraid. Desperately afraid.      

The footfalls grew louder, then slowed. She heard the abrupt ‘thunk’ of a lock and the angry screech of twisting metal as a cruel bright light tore into the darkness, pouring in through a doorway just in front of her. Eli held her hands up to shield her eyes and with a shock noticed how small they were. They were grubby, scratched and scarred. Nails chewed down and skin cracked and dry, but they were delicate, too.

The hands of a child.

A harsh voice snapped at her from the doorway and Eli tried to see who was there, but the figure was blurred; drowning in the intense light which surrounded them.

“Pitiful. I thought you little spider-blooded mongrels thrived in the dark.”

The voice was familiar. Haunting. It caused a wild sort of terror to hammer at her ribcage.

“Maybe now you’ll be more compliant.”

Fear, hot and vicious tore through her as she felt a hand grip her hair and yank her forward. Her shoulder cracked as it hit the floor, pain burning up her neck and down her arm. She tried to scream as she was dragged out of the dark room and into that blistering light, but her throat was raw and dry…

No.

No. No! NO!

Eli jolted awake, scrambling to get her bearings as her lungs burned with the soundless screams of her nightmare. Her breathing was ragged, catching in her throat as she sat up and blinked wearily, trying to chase the fog from her brain. A dull pain flared in her shoulder and she groaned, mind clearing with recollection as the day before returned to her.

Her headaches, the hunter, Astarion, the crossbow…

Eli peered down at herself, twisting slightly to try and get a decent angle in order to view the closed wound. Her armor had been removed, leaving Eli in her undershirt and a pair of camp pants. She pulled at the shirt collar, trying to see underneath and inspect her shoulder as best she could. An angry scar had bloomed where the wound had been, and she mentally made a note to thank Shadowheart for what she assumed had been the cleric’s work.

Rubbing at her eyes, the ghost of a dull headache still thrumming away at the back of her skull, Eli pulled back the ragged blanket that had been laid over her…then paused. She held the cloth up and away from herself, inspecting it curiously. She didn’t remember owning a blanket…and the scent… Sharp and citrusy, with notes of evergreen and a touch of smokiness. And beneath that…the stale scent of death, slightly rotted and stagnant. She knew that odor. It was one of the reasons she’d pegged Astarion as a vampire upon their first meeting, aside from all of the other obvious hints. He could try and mask it with rosemary and the tang of bergamot, but Eli would know the perfume of death and decay anywhere. The familiarity of it was unsettling, because try as she might, she couldn’t pinpoint why the smell of necrosis was such a balm to her.

Eli rubbed the worn fabric between her fingers, eyeing it closely. She could see careful stitchwork in various places along the edges where meticulous effort had been taken to patch fraying hemming. The texture of the blanket was timeworn and there was a distinct air of mustiness to it. It was old – very old – but comfortable. Eli felt a pang of affection as she folded the blanket and set it aside, cautious to put it somewhere where she wouldn’t accidentally step on it. She stared at it for a moment, thoughts sizzling in her head like small sparks that might set alight a larger blaze if she wasn’t careful. She frowned at herself and turned away, standing with a tired grunt and slamming those nagging and sentimental emotions inside a mental box that she meant to burry deep down within herself.

She seemed only capable of bad ideas these days. Best not to humor anymore.

Stepping out of her tent, Eli took a quick survey of camp. Everything was still, the night dark and deep. Their campfire had burned down to embers that glowed faintly in the gloom and Eli guessed the hour must be early in the darkness of morning. She walked towards the riverbank, stretching out her shoulder and rolling it back tenderly. It would be sore for a few days, she mused, but that was a far cry better than what could have happened had they not had a cleric with them.

Crouching, she cupped water between her hands and splashed her face, still trying to sort through all the thoughts whirring in her mind.

“A saucerer? Really?”

Eli flinched, surprised by the cool, easy voice. She turned her head, grinning up at Astarion who stood a few paces behind her, arms crossed as he leaned against a tree that was growing out from the bank.

“I can’t help it if your sense of humor isn’t as refined as my own,” she said, sitting back onto the sandy shoreline.

A bark of laughter escaped Astarion’s throat and Eli caught herself staring at the delicate hallow between his collarbones.

“Thank the gods for that. Puns are the lowest form of humor, darling.”

A depraved rush sped up her heart and she felt a flush bleed down her neck as the unbidden image of hands pressing down on his throat entered her mind. Astarion’s eyes narrowed at her, shining in the silvery moonlight. He smirked, no doubt noticing her piqued heartrate and the blush below her jaw.

“Happy to see me, my dear?” he purred, uncrossing his arms and stepping out onto the bank.

Eli banished the foul thought from her head as Astarion sat beside her, a brow quirked slyly.

“Happy to see anyone, considering.” She shrugged, ignoring the suggestion beneath his words. He didn’t need to know that her mind wasn’t envisioning the sorts of things he thought it was.

The Urge thrummed distantly in her brain but remained mostly unroused.

“Did you leave a blanket in my tent,” Eli asked, changing the subject before Astarion could make any more quips.

She caught the briefest flash of surprise flit across his expression, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a composed air of hautyness. Eli wondered if Astarion hadn’t meant for her to know he’d been the one to leave it.

“Well, yes,” he said, suddenly rather interested in attending to a smudge of dirt on his trousers, brushing at it. “I noticed that shabby excuse for a bedroll in your tent when I brought you back and figured between the blood loss and poison, the last thing we all needed was for the only rational person in camp – besides me, of course – to catch cold and die.”

Eli brought the back of her hand to her forehead, frowning with confusion as she held it there. Astarion gave her a sidelong look, expression guarded.

“What are you doing?” he asked with slight unease.

“Checking to see if I’m running a fever. I don’t think all the poison’s out of my system yet,” Eli said, giggling as Astarion’s frown deepened.

“You know, I am capable of being a thoughtful and decent person,” he chided with no small amount of irritation cutting through his words. “From time to time,” he added after a brief pause.

Eli just smiled back at him, amused by his fluster and bravado.

“I’m teasing,” she said, unable to keep a note of fondness out of her voice. “It was thoughtful. Thank you.”

Astarion returned his attention to the smudge, brushing away at the remaining dirt.

“Don’t go making a fuss about it. I owed you, anyway. For the wine,” he reminded her.

“You didn’t owe me anything,” Eli corrected him warmly.

She was finding it more and more difficult to tune out that bothersome feeling of affection growing behind her ribcage. But, she’d deal with it later. The company was nice in the small, calm hours of the morning. Especially when she considered the nightmares that were likely waiting for her back in the shadows of her tent.

Yeah. She’d definitely, absolutely turn those feelings off. Later.

[tavyliasin]

Fandom Essay - Body Positivity and Validation

Good timezone darlings~ Lia is back at it again with some examination of BG3 Fandom and some more of the wonderful things we can find within it. This time we are talking about representation of different physical features. If you feel this might be a little much for you, either in regards to your relationship to your body or any potential dysphoria, please feel free to skip it. Second disclaimer that I will be mentioning trans and nonbinary people here from the perspective of a Cis person - this is absolutely not my right to speak for or over anyone so I thoroughly welcome the voices of those with lived experiences to join in the comments with their input, but I also did not want to leave the topic out of the discussion and you may just see why as we get into it~ So on with today's long title:

How FanWorks Can Be Important To Self Acceptance And Body Positivity - The Next "Callout Essay" from TavyliaSin (Who is calling herself out with these too) ((there are reasons it feels targeted I know where to aim)) (((but honestly it's fine it's all positive I promise)))

Today we will be discussing: body types, disability representation (only a little though, this one may need a full post of its own), body size, gender (and gender euphoria), scars and "imperfections", visible ageing. This will be through the lens of both the canon inclusion and everything we see in mods, edits, and fan creations of all kinds. As usual I will use sub headers and encourage anyone to skip what makes them uncomfortable, as well as to join the discussion~ so let's begin, shall we?

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What Does Body Positivity Mean?

Let's start off with the simple one. Body positivity doesn't mean promoting any one body type as the ideal or as better than any others, it is about being positive about the mortal flesh vessels we inhabit and all of their features. A lot of people can find this difficult, to love oneself or even just accept oneself, especially in a highly critical society. But that is where representation and even fan creations can step in - by being vocal and loud about appreciating features that people may feel negative about in themselves, we can help build up confidence and self worth, as well as reminding all of us that we do not have to look a certain way to be desirable and desired~

How Does This Relate To Baldur's Gate 3?

On the surface, we do have a lot of characters with more conventionally accepted body types in the main cast and romance characters, though it is worth noting that the base models were updated to be less "Hollywood muscles" on a couple of characters, which made more sense to the character stats and backstories (unless Gale was working out every day in his tower, he's not that much like a bodybuilder physique).

But aside from this, when you look closer, there's also an awful lot to appreciate in the standard character designs. A lot of these are things which fans pick up on and adore, despite how they may be features that people are actively bullied for or that are seen as undesirable by beauty standards. Those "beauty standards" can get in the trash too, but I'll use it here to point out the things we are shining a positive light on in the face of those societal values~ Karlach - Our tall queen, strong and muscular and not particularly feminine with her tattoos, piercings, and hairstyle. But she is adored for all of those things, even her broken horn is an important feature, alongside the glowing heart and fire that have some in the game view her as monstrous until they look closer and know her. Astarion - His laugh lines. Gods don't we love those? The wrinkles in his face are experience, and of course he has those signs of exhaustion in his eyes that make him so much more relatable to many of us. Lae'zel - This might feel like cheating as she's not human, and is less human-like than most of the other characters, but in a way that is also an important one. She's still desirable and treated as such in the romances, as well as very much adored by the fans. Gale - The little signs of ageing and stress mark Gale's face, and even the hints of greying in his hair are picked up on and chewed on by those who love him most. Wyll - More on him later but honestly is he not the poster boy for physical acceptance? Not only do we have his initial appearance with the stone eye but with one choice his entire body is completely changed and part of his story is arguably learning to live with this and how his new look is likely going to be seen as everything he ever feared. Halsin - Are we cheating with BIG TALL MUSCLE MOUNTAIN because many people find this attractive to start with? Maybe, but again he has clear signs of ageing, as well as very obvious facial scarring. His look might easily be described as fearsome, and yet his personality couldn't be further from it. Raphael - Hello there lovers of older men, who look at each one of those wrinkles and his brow lines and start sweating a bit more. I'm with you, he's gorgeous because of those signs of aging, not despite them. Abdirak - Our real poster boy for scars and visible wounds. Features which have long been given only to villainous characters in fiction (particularly that aimed at younger audiences) and yes he is one of the most violent characters, but he is also immediately deeply sympathetic to the player. So we are no longer equating scars/visual difference with pure evil. In general we have a lot of features that are not overly smoothed out or homogenised to fit certain standards. We have different nose shapes, visible pores, scars, acne marks, wrinkles, greying hair, moles, freckles, body hair, and a lot of variety across face shapes and features. It makes the characters feel more real, more relatable, and seeing features closer to our own can be comforting and validating in a lot of ways. Of course there are more examples, and far more we could say about each one of these and all the things that make them unique that we love about them, but we would be here all day and there are other topics to cover!

What About The Player Characters?

So we do have a range of fantasy races, many of which arguably don't represent real humans at all, and we do also lack variation in body types in the standard game. But we also have player characters with shorter statures with the dwarves, halflings and gnomes. Beyond just being part of the lore and story, there is some representation here for similar body types in real life. I can't say a lot on this as I neither have personal experience nor do I personally know anyone who could speak on how they feel about these races in comparison to lived experiences, but it would be equally unfair to leave the point out of the conversation - please do add something in the comments if you have the knowledge and emotional bandwidth to spare, I would love to hear about your experiences and opinions! Aside from this we have a wide range of skin tones (though my own is too close to plain paper to be able to tell you if this is anywhere near adequate so please feel free to weigh in with lived experience here) as well as scars and other features in the character creation. There's also vitiligo pigmentation, which is not only representing the condition but also normalising it to those who aren't familiar and making some rather beautiful options for our characters in my opinion. Even in the hair styles there are a couple of options featuring thinner hair or baldness patterns. There are less options for textured hairstyles and the facial features are equally limited, but there are some truly gorgeous mods out there which I'll mention later.

Player Characters And Gender

Another caveat to please weigh in with your lived experiences, but this one is one that I've seen friends enjoy and it was really wonderful to see that delight. Being able to select pronouns, genitals, body type, and voice all independently of each other is something which is so vastly meaningful to a lot of players. To some it might just be "oh cool I get to choose what my character looks like naked", but to a nonbinary friend of mine... Well, they were sending me happy, joyful, and what can only be described as "delightfully shouty" messages when they were in character creation. To paraphrase, and to tone it down just a little, it went something like this:

"Wait you mean I can have a character look and exist the way I want to be? I can actually have myself represented on screen, and nobody will misgender me, and nobody will decline a romance based on any of this?!"

Maybe it seems silly but I got tearful to see them just absolutely losing it over having these options. They've been stuck with binary options in most fantasy RPGs for so long... Of course there's still things that could be improved, there always will be, but that joy? Priceless. It meant something in that moment and I hope it will continue to mean something to a lot more people in many moments to come. Of course there are still flaws - the faces and bodies are still gender matched, and it isn't possible for people to refine the size and shape of player character chests. In some ways really what we have is the bare minimum, a start that needs to go further, but seeing as there have been precious few games in the genre to even reach this low bar it is good to recognise it, to say "this brought people joy and is worth the effort to make it happen", and to say "please go further because there is genuine interest."

What About Mods?

This is where we can see a lot more of that positivity flourishing. There are countless options, from having more hairstyles and hair types, to face shapes and features, all the way to body types and adding in top surgery scars. Giving the game the ability to be modded, and potentially even encouraging and supporting it, means we can see so much more of that body positivity and representation. Having a hero who shares your features, seeing romances play out where the characters are valued in every way just as they are. Being able to mod softer and wider body types to the Origin characters too, taking the form away from the bodybuilder/model physique and far closer to more average - and undeniably still devastatingly attractive - body types. Seeing the trans-Origin character headcanons portrayed too, that's just so utterly divine~ (There is a lot to be said about parallels to LGBTQIA+ experiences in the Origin storylines, too, so feel free to comment on those at the end if you would like to) To all of you out there making mods, and sharing the characters you've created using other peoples' mods - thank you! I adore seeing all of these, as well as people's happiness in sharing and using them too~

I don't even use mods, honestly darlings I'm not the best with tech at times and as I'm spending vastly more hours writing than playing it's likely not as worth it for me - especially when people share the modded content for us all to enjoy in videos and screenshots. But I love how many there are, that they exist, and all the ways they give people joy and euphoria to see their own body types and/or body types they find to be desirable~

But Wasn't This Post About Fandom and Fan Creations?

It was - and is! Because after all of the content you can get in the base game and in the modded version, what comes after is where the fans go with it from there.

That's truly where we get the most body positivity and joy. Headcanons leave the head and pour onto the page. We see characters reimagined a hundred times, each with their own twist, their own enthusiasm both from the creator and from fans just eating up every piece that comes out. There's so much variety there seems to be almost anything you could wish for with almost any character, and I can guarantee you that if there's something you'd like to see and aren't seeing out there, there will be an artist willing to work on the idea (most likely on commission basis, we do prefer to ensure our artists can eat after all, but there may be some willing to just adopt ideas to draw as their own too). This even extends to cosplay, with gender-swapped characters, as well as the one thing I will always be vocal about in cosplay - everyone should be allowed to wear the character costumes they love regardless of body types or how well their body/face matches the original character. Though this does come with the caveat that skin should never be darkened to match a character's look (if that character has a natural type skin tone, obviously green etc is not an issue) - just be your own version of the character if you adore them enough to put the costume together.

And your work?...

Thank you for asking Lia, let me answer that one for you. Of course, take it away, Lia! Ahem silliness aside, there is something you might or might not have noticed in my writing. I don't do a lot of body-type description. You can imagine whatever you like as you read - Gale with a soft tummy to snuggle? Yes please! Or you can imagine him with sculped abs, or a more slender frame - whatever brings you the most joy to read. This is especially true for anything I do with gender neutral character fics (usually "character x Reader"/2nd person pieces) - I try to stay away from any specific gendered features and focus on actions and sensations which can be common to any body.

How Does This All Add Up To Body Positivity?

Simple, love - by sharing and making all of these works we are saying "these features are beautiful, we love them, we want to see more of them as we fall head over heels time and time again". It might not seem like a lot, but the mind is both powerful and very easily open to suggestion. If a person keeps seeing negative things about a feature they have (eg, as a mild example body hair on women/feminine people) they will internalise that and wish to change themselves (eg, waxing/shaving/etc). In the case of a bit of body hair that might not seem drastic, but it still changes how someone feels about themselves. At the end of the day, the more we love ourselves the easier it is to look after ourselves and be happy in the mortal flesh vessels we pilot around this terribly strange universe~ For my part, I have seen my body shape which I had struggled with shown time and time again as "wow look at this character who looks this way, they are amazing! I love this feature, and that feature, and the way the artist made sure to include this particular thing-" Every time I see that, every time I see parts of myself I struggle with being applauded and appreciated, I feel a little brighter. A little more comfortable. A little more like I am allowed to dress it up nicely and spend time and care to feel good about it. I also feel less shame for old scars, for every part of myself that has made me look at the mirror with unkind eyes. Confidence is not a single brick, it's many that need to be built carefully with the right cement. If it is chipped away at too many times, even by little self-deprecating "jokes", it will erode. It will crack. It will wear away piece by piece instead of building up. And before anyone decides to try equating weight and health, darling this is not the place. If you truly care about someone's wellbeing, leave their health to the private discussions they have with their doctors, and remember that looking after oneself is far easier from a place of loving oneself. If you care about a thing, you want to look after it. If you see a thing as already broken, you're less likely to be cautious in how you handle it.

Where does this essay end?

Well, I believe that would be here. With the endless gratitude for every creator out there bringing us mods, images, fiction, art, cosplay, content of all of these wonderful characters in every incredible variation that we can think of. I encourage those of you who are feeling lower in confidence about yourselves to really look at the fan responses to these creations - the excitement and desire for every body type, every feature, everything that we might see of ourselves and dislike there are so many people out there seeing those exact same features we have and feeling nothing but attraction, desire, love, adoration, and praise~ We are often our own worst critics, but not one of those characters would ever reject us, neither are we rejecting any of our favourites when we see them on the screen. I certainly hope to see more games bringing us this variety, and going further too. There is power in fiction and fan-works, and it is helpful to recognise it too.

Apologies if this one felt too long, rambling, or like I lost my point - it was done over 3 days and I'm rather tired~ I have other essays coming in the next few weeks too, and I really would love to hear your opinions on any of them~

As a final note - please do add your own views and experiences on the topic! I can only offer my own as a disabled white cisgender asexual/bisexual/panromantic woman with too much time on her hands~ I neither wish to ignore experiences outside of my own nor speak over them. All I can offer is what I see, what I hear, and of course my endless love to all of you~ That, my very dear darlings, is never in doubt. I love you just the way you are, because of who you are, and will see the beauty in everything that makes up the sum of your wonderful selves~

[scribblingplace]

Propositions - Bg3 Fic

“You know darling,” Astarion says brightly, fiddling With his fingers as he plasters a smile on and keeps his tone light.

“I've been thinking about you-”

He has after all, and about his other new travelling companions, and about his situation, and about how the worm is probably coming out shortly, and about how he's absolutely fucked if it does and he's left to his own devices, he needs someone on his side.

He could do worse.

The Party makes a deal with a hag, Astarion muses on his travelling companions, and his options, and makes some decisions, and I practice writing a Bg3 character who isn't my OC.

“No!”  It's really quite a surprise to see Dirk snap like that.  But then, the druid is under an awful lot of stress, they all are.  But she’s bearing it terribly.  Not a moment goes by where she doesn’t look like she wants to run or cry or snap.

Perhaps there’s no real surprise after all.  It's just a pity she's picking now to do it, when it would be so easy to just take the prize and leave Mayrina to her stupid fate.

“You're giving me the girl, you're giving me the boon, or I'm doing things to your corpse you can't come back from.  You know I know how Agnes!”

It would have been a more impressive little speech if she'd gotten the hags name right.  But there's a ripple of Dirk's magic, that clogging of the air he's getting so used too.  And for a moment, Ethel does look scared.

Rather a feat, in his opinion.  So far Dirk hasn't been able to intimidate so much as a squirrel.  And here she is yelling at a Green Hag and bullying her into submission. 

But then there's a certain tenacity to the little beast, and it is respectable.  He certainly wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of those claws.

“Girl.  Boon.  Now. I’m on a schedule!”  Dirk moves forward with every intent to gut the woman, a brief flash of magic in her eye, And her nails are dripping ichor again.

Apparently Ethel doesn't want to be on the wrong end of Dirk's claws either.

She puts her hands up in a supplicating gesture as she steps back.  “Fine.  Here.  Don’t get your knickers in a twist”  

“Take care petal.  Have fun with your tentacles.”  And then Ethel is gone in a puff of magic.

And then she pulls out a wad of hair and tosses it on the ground.   “I’ll not soon forget this sweetness, you have my word.” 

Astarion swears he sees Dirk flinch at the threat, even as she’s shouting back one of her own.  Something about turning Ethel into fertilizer, probably within her skill set.

Ethel doesn’t seem to be paying a great deal of attention either.  Because Mariana (is that her name, Astarion can not be bothered to care,) is whining now, and Ethel and her are bickering about her lousy deal, it’s mostly Ethel telling her to shut up.  Which Astarion is all for. 

Not that he speaks up.   Best not to attract the attention of malevolent fae after all.  Wyll and Gale also seem content to let this play out in the background, so maybe they’re smarter than he’s been giving them credit for.

Properly gone too, or she’d still be wreathed in faerie fire, silhouetted as she tried to flee..

“She was going to eat your baby.”  

“You bastard! You ruined it! You ruined everything!” 

Gods, they’re being shouted at by Mary anne now.  Dirk is just blinking at her owlishly.  

Astarion snorts, something about Dirk’s delivery of that damning bit of news.  He’s not sure she’s ever made a joke in her life.  But sometimes she’s very, very funny.  At least to him, because Wyll is shooting him a look for that, and Gale is clearing his throat to say something.  

“What? No, she said she’d raise it teach it magi-”

“Yeah, as a hag, that’s what hags do with babies.  They eat them, then they vomit up a new intellectually distinct baby.”  

“She lacks a bit of finesse but, essentially, yes.”  Gale chimes in, clearly feeling a bit worse for delivering that crushing blow now.  

“But she-”

“Look, whatever she was offering has a catch, and it would probably be ironic and bad and awful anyways now thank us for saving your stupid life and leave.”  Mayrina just blinks and then turns to slink off.

She does not thank them.  But then, did anyone actually expect her too.  

There’s a beat of awkward silence between the four of them before Wyll speaks up. 

“Did you have to be so harsh, she didn’t deserve-”

“Yeah she did, she’s a shit parent, and someone should tell her what she nearly did!” 

“What are we supposed to do with, that?” 

Perhaps he ought to do something.  As much fun as it would be to see them come to blows, they do have other things to get done today.  He clears his throat and points at the wad of stringy hair and scalp dangling from it.  There's a bit of mushroom too. 

“I believe the done thing with this sort of Eerie token is-” Gale is cut off by Dirk shoving it in her mouth.

“You eat It, same as the worms.” Dirk says, chewing.  

Gale gives a little nod of agreement, Wyll looks disgusted.  

“Come on, we may as well loot the place while we're here. Might have something for Gale.” Dirk is already moving off deeper into the hags lair.  

She gives a little thieves cant gesture for Astarion to follow.  

“We'll look for traps, you two do upstairs.”  

Astarion falls into step behind Dirk, a thoughtful look on his face.

It's astonishing how easily she seems to take the role of leader.  He’s not sure anyone else seems to have noticed.  She certainly doesn’t seem aware she’s the one who’s plans they follow.  Too busy bulldozing ahead in a blind panic. 

He suspects there's a lot Dirk hasn't noticed about herself. Like how useful she actually is in a fight, or how pathetically invested she gets the minute someone gives her a sincere thank you.  A scrap of affection.  

And apparently she can be a bit terrifying. 

He could certainly do worse.  

If it wasn't for all the fungus and general grime she's covered in she might even be attractive, or at least endearing.

But, as it is, she's a little impressive, and useful, and she seems to, if not actually like him. (And honestly does the little sewer rat like anyone?  He suspects not.)  Well, she agrees with him, mostly, seems startlingly indifferent to the whole vampire thing, now that it's out in the open.

He could do worse.

“You know darling,” Astarion says brightly, fiddling With his fingers as he plasters a smile on and keeps his tone light.

“I've been thinking about you-”

He has after all, and about his other new travelling companions, and about his situation, and about how the worm is probably coming out shortly, and about how he's absolutely fucked if it does and he's left to his own devices, he needs someone on his side.

He could do worse.

He could also be trying to seduce Wyll who is at the very least attractive, but Gods know they'd end up coming to blows the minute Astarion tries to actually feed himself or makes some snide comment the Blade of Frontiers doesn’t appreciate.  No, he’s out.  

So Dirk it is.

“About?”  She interrupts his Internal debate, jogs him out of that momentary hesitation.

“Oh. Us, our time together all the things we've shared, and I don't just mean your blood,” he says casually.

The speed with which Dirk whirls to face him is astonishing.  As is the look of confusion. 

Though honestly hardly a surprise, he doubts any one has ever tried to flirt with her before.

“I'm growing to like the whole package really.  And you clearly like me too so...”  

He trails off, Dirk Just stares.

“What?” 

From her tone he can tell he has misjudged this horribly, it’s still confusion mostly.  And annoyance, maybe disgust.

He should abort, run away, were this a bar in Baldur's gate he'd simply give up and move on to the next mark, but there no other sloppy desperate horny drunks around, and there are no other really viable options because everyone else in this blasted party is in a cult, or on fire or a professional monster hunter!

“Oh come now, don't be coy, your body’s already given you away, I could feel your little shakes of excitement as I was getting lost in your veins, you enjoyed it didn't you?”

“That was anxiety, I shake when I'm nervous, and you were chewing me!”

Right, this could not be going worse, Astarion takes a step back, still speaking, trying to fill the air before she can.

“Well-” Just a moment's hesitation as he recovers- “allow me to make it up to you,” he tries, “I know a secluded place not too far from the grove, we could take an evening to ourselves, indulge in one another.”

She's staring at him like he's grown a second head.  Has he been too subtle?

“No.”  Dirk says flatly.  “That sounds bad.”  

And then she turns around again to inspect the bottles, leaving Astarion baffled and fuming.  

That should have worked.  She should be flattered! Elated!  And instead she’s just-  Gods.  It’s not as if she knows he thinks she’s disgusting?  Does she?  He’s opening his mouth to say something else but he’s cut off when a clay bottle is shoved directly in his face.

“This sounds like it's full of bees right?  A bee adjacent hex thing?”  Dirk wiggles it, it does sound like it's full of bees.

He considers her as she scurries about, inspecting things like a squirrel.  He’s probably dodged an arrow there.  Back to the drawing board.

“Here.  You can throw it at someone.”  She’s holding it out, practically shoving it at him.  “It’ll probably hurt.”

He takes it, considers it for a moment, then pockets the thing, she’s already turned back to the shelf of earthenware bottles.  Sniffing at them as if she can divine something from scent alone.

[serious-tabaxi]

Ok, so, This is all set within the fictionally metropolis of Midnight Park, a city of 10 million on the shores of the Maryland coast. Midnight Park is a very divided place, with the tech moguls of the Silicon Heights looking over the squalor of Hooverville, the lush gardens, parks, and graveyards of Greenbelt being leeched of life from the smog of the Production Quarter, and the ever-watchful eye of their heroes of the Luminary Society just can't pierce through the shadowed allies and tunnels their rival villains lurk in.

First up on the hit list is Squall, Dr Simon Gale, the oldest of the villains who looks a bit like an cantaloupe balancing on top of a bowling ball, or some hybrid of that guy from those Boom Beach ads that was a meme a few years back with classic Eggman or Doc Ock. They were bullied for their looks during their childhood (especially by one Benedict Bright who you'll see later) and would grow into a meteorologist and climatologist, top of their class. Unfortunately, they were cursed to became one of the first to realize the potential dangers of climate change back in like the 90's and nobody took their observations seriously, reminding them of their childhood torments. In a fit of rage, the used experimental equipment for inducing artificial rainfall to turn a light drizzle into a pounding storm, flooding Midnight Park and dawning the modern age of heroes and villains. Unfortunately, they're ego would only grow and they'd slowly begin to see themself as the arbiter of natures wraith and be blinded to the cruelty of their actions.

Next up is Tox, Dr Garrett Adams. Dr Adams wasn't anyone special, just some humble chemist working for Venture Chemicals Co in the Production Quarter. That all changed during Squall's storm though. The floodwaters caused the chemical vats to burst and spill, dissolving several workers alive whilst Garrett was stranded in the rafters above where they're body slowly absorbed the fumes. Their skin and fat began to melt off their muscle and bones as it turned to wax from chemical exposure, soaking in chemical fumes and radiation as Adams used what first aid supplies he had to stave off death. By the time the floodwaters receded, Him and the chemicals had become one, a congealed mass of atomic tallow and luminous green organs within in endless agony that warped his mind into nothing but an abyss of hate. hate. hate. hate.

Then is Everyman, Tomas Jackson. Jackson was some unremarkable middle-aged conservative man who believed in standing for what you think is right and a growing resentment for the government. That was, until, some random no-name crook broke into his house and stole a family heirloom, his grandmother's old necklace, at which point he attempted to follow shotgun in hand to get it back. When he couldn't and the police also failed to find it, he was filled with rage and vowed to take makers into his own hands. Doning a home-forged steel helmet, gloves, trenchcoat, and voice changer, they set off into the night with a shotgun, a dream, and a very black-and-white sense of morality. These days, many of his fellow hands-on right wingers have donned similar costumes and joined him in his secret lair, the Halls of Justice, to find, torture, and execute whoever they deem guilty.

Mister Bones, Benedict Bright, was a bully growing up, especially to a young Simon Gale. His parents own a large carnival boardwalk by the name of the Bright Time Mile in Founder's Bay. His father died when Benedict was in his twenties and gave him control over the park. This was not a good idea as Mr Bright thought that the fear on the faces of others was just the funniest thing ever and slowly but surely made the park more thrilling, more threatening, more terrifying so he could laugh at the helpless scared children. He got a degree in sociology so that he could be even better at scaring people until they lost their minds and had his engineers work on developing advanced animatronics capable of free motion and though. Eventually, the Bright Time Mile's fear factor was toned down significantly to attract new guests and Mr Benedict started to dress in a more fitting costume, red and black with skeletal bodypaint. However, soon after this refurbishment, reports started to come out. Of of man in a black and white pinstripe suit, skull-faced gasmask, wide brimmed hat, oversized blood-stained mallet, and a simple wand loaded with a radioactive isotope that would melt the flesh right off your bones, and this man would chase you down without relent or remorse laughing at your screams until you could scream no more or grew too brave, at which point they'd get bored and leave.

Amp, Ruby Neumann, was the daughter of a German immigrant and was a lover of all things adrenaline-pumping, especially hardbass music. When they reached adulthood, they attempted to start a band, Bloodboil, but it never got off the ground. After that, she became a audio engineer and pioneered some interesting techniques. During a job under Benedict Bright to try to create audio disks that hum at just the right frequency to cause hallucinations, the hero Technopath broke in and gave chase, causing the equipment to short out and drive several other workers deaf. She escaped but lost the research for the disks but came to realize something; being chased... is actually pretty fun. She crafted a custom sound-suit covered with speakers that sounded at a frequency that could shatter stone and a sonic blaster that would rupture flesh and became a mercenary for the various gangs of Midnight Park, serving under them for the ultimate thrill.

And last for the villains is Krake, Richard Steinman. you already know about them. A cosmetics surgeon and geneticist who helped transgender and non-binary people transition until they had an otherkin awakening themself and was hit by a gnawing, insatiable longing to be an octopus (or, rather, the BODY of an octopus, they already were one in mind) even though they knew that they could reach reach it until Squall's storm created Tox and Midas, neither of which can really be considered human anymore and gave poor Steinman hope that they can achive their heart's desire with enough equipment, chemicals, and test subjects and so set up a secret lab in the Midnight Park underground where they performed inhumane experiments attempting to crack the code of transformation, eventually managing to figure it out and partly turn themself into an octopus, the happiest day of their life, but now aware of the toil they've reaped on the innocent citizens of Midnight park, all the friends they've lost and traded for power-hungry gangsters who wanted power for cheap, and these days they cry themselves to sleep every night,

However, now, it's hero time.

First is co-founder of the Luminary Society, Silver Sentinel. Henry Steele was a car mechanic in Founder's Bay until getting a new job as an engineer for Benedict Bright at the Bright Time Mile designing animatronics. He did this for some time before slowly realizing that what Bright wants aren't just animatronic mascot characters, but androids, semi-aware fake people, and that just didn't sit right with them and so they left, turning back to their old work for a while before bumping into an Everyman recruiter who conviced them to serve under the forces of "Justice", taking a box of mechanical limbs from their old job and created a primitive suit of power armor to boost his strength. After about a month though, he realized that Everyman was just a butcher, killing any who he arbitrarily deemed "Guilty" and moving one actually without doing anything to make Midnight Park a better place and so, left them. He wondered guilty and aimless for some time before meeting Coldheart and founding the Luminary Society to atone for their past sins, establishing a strict code of honor to make up for it.

Of course, Next up is Coldheart. Emeline Eaton was a skier, the best in all Midnight Park in fact. She would ski down the slopes of Appalachia every winter preparing for the day she could enter into the Winter Olympics, her personal dream and everyone believed in her. One winter when she was setting off, a strange man in a hazmat suit approached her, not a single snowflake on their body preaching how fit she was. She listened, confused, until the figure proclaimed how much he DESPISED health as they took off their hood, revealing the vile molten features of Tox right before Emeline punch him right in the face in response, only for Tox to merely laugh as the chemical cocktail begain to make her flesh melt too arm-first. She fell on the ground and rolled down the slope, slamming right into a frozen lake. She awoke later that month after the thaw with bluish frostbite skin and discovered that no level of cold effect her anymore but if she were to ever rise above the freezing point, she'd begin to melt like Tox. She lived for a week sleeping in mall freezers and walking around with a sack of dry ice tied to her back before meeting Silver Sentinel, who rigged up a crude insulation suit to keep her cool and together they formed the Luminary Society.

Midas, Dr Gianni Agneas, was a quantum physicist specializing in using particle smashers and accelerators to transmutate old or synthesize new elements. He was working on an experimental device he named the Philosopher's Engine that could transmute any one substance into any other when Squall's storm hit, lightning striking the side of the lab and causing the machine to go haywire spouting particles and radiation until it exploded, knocking Gianni out in the process. When they awoke, Everything left in the ruins had been transmuted, including themself, they had been turned to a scintillating rainbow of elements such as lead, bismuth, and sulfur and whatever they touched would itself be transmuted into something different. After a few years as a medical oddity, they had learned to control their powers, being able to choose what they turned what into, joining the Luminary Society and turning enough trash into gold to allow them to buy an abandoned observation tower to turn into their headquarters, the Luminary Spire.

Technopath, Nathan Sutton, isn't from Midnight Park, he's not even from the east coast. Born in the state of California as the son of the tech billionaire Dell Sutton of Telekinetics Inc, Nathan never faced much hardship growing up and so spent most of their time reading comic books and watching movies. They were big fans of stories about cowboy and pirate vigilantes and secret spies infiltrating the lairs of megalomaniacal masterminds. After hearing of the Luminary Society following the purchase of the Luminary Spire and their growing awareness of their father's love of money over them, he underwent an experimental surgery to have Telekinetics Inc technology installed into his body, becoming a cyborg with built-in radios and electromagnets granting them powers like remote usage of electronics, telekinesis, and more before moving to Midnight Park and applying for the Society several times before getting approved as their youngest member. Silver Sentinel is something of an idol of theirs and they seem potential in the young cyborg and have taken them in as a pupil.

Nightshade, real name Sophia Burke, always preferred plants to people. Plants wouldn't bully you for being weird, plants would always listen to what you have to say, plants would never be "too busy" to pay attention to their child. As she grew, she got a degree in botany and toxicology whilst studying abroad. When she came back however, She discovered that her parents had been murdered. No matter how strained there relationship, she still valued their lives and so went out to try to find the killer, Using her knowledge to blend into the plantlife and apply subtle poisons to their enemies to render them inoperable. Eventually she found the culprit; Everyman, Her parents were corrupt it turns out and had been engaging with drug smuggling for the black market and he couldn't let that stand. Shaken to her core by that discovery but still wanting to put a stop to Everyman's crimes and not believe that they're strong enough, she joined the Luminary Society to train, though her willingness to kill give her a strained relationship with the rest of them.

And that's it. That's them, my boys!

i imagine at least Menoa would, in response to Everyman's semi-fascist outlook, make himself into a hero called "Nuance" that would show up to every attempted murder, and debate the murderer in the middle of them attempting to do the murder.

meanwhile Akari would be the one who actually prevents the crimes.

sorry i'm thinking in terms of me ocs.

[pokeharvest]

My reference sheet for my lovely bg3 tav Splarnya <3 I've become so insanely attached to her since I started my playthrough!! This was my first time working on a "proper" reference sheet and I'm glad I pushed myself to finish it :3

Find her on artfight here!

More info about her under the cut <3

Last updated: 6/18/24

Splarnya is a Seldarine Drow sorcerer with wild magic! Mostly reserved and polite, but once she gets to know you better she'll loosen up around you. Has learned how to keep her cool and think before she speaks. Her expressions are more on the subtle side; they're soft but still manage to speak volumes.

Raised with her parents on the surface, she experienced a fair share of bullying and discrimination due to being mistaken as a Lolth-sworn drow. She travelled with her parents from place to place until their untimely death; afterwards, she went solo until the events of bg3. After the events of the story, she is happily married to Gale and lives with him in Waterdeep :')

Appearance/Basic Info:

She/Her

Seldarine Drow

Wild Magic Sorcerer

Toned fit

Lanky/lithe

Freckles on face

Scar running diagonally across face

Tattoo on left side of face

Pink eyes

White hair with some light tan streaks

Likes to wear flowy clothes (big sleeves/pants/skirts)

Personality:

Neutral good

Prefers to persuade rather than intimidate, but is not opposed to the latter when the time calls

A bit ashamed about her wild magic, and often gets embarrassed by the trouble it causes

Eventually learns to embrace the unpredictability and go with the flow more in life :)

[thechaoticdruid]

[Firsts] (1/2)

Pairing: Astarion x Named F!Tav

Plot: Astarion's been acting way too flirty lately. Seriously it was starting to weird Winnie out. She knew the man flirted with pretty much everyone in the group, but lately since she'd given him a taste of her blood it seemed much more targeted at her and very aggressive. Could he actually be attracted to her? Pfft! No way!

Content/Warnings: Sexual themes, sexual humor, light smut, no actual sex yet, making out, dry humping, groping, violence, blood, death, Winnie has very low self esteem, Astarion being a perv, Virgin MC, Astarion bullies Gale, Gale has one sided crush on MC, oblivious MC, Astarion being Astarion, body issues.

Second part: [2/2]

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Things had kinda been weird for Winnie ever since she'd discovered one of her companions was a vampire. Astarion had always been rather flirtatious with the members of their merry band of weirdos, but now it was different. Ever since he'd gotten a taste of her blood his flirtations seem much more targeted towards her. 

Winnie would most often brush them aside. It didn't mean anything after all. Either Astarion was just a naturally flirty person or he wanted to butter her up so she'd be more likely to let him have more of her blood. The female druid was certain these flirtations weren't anything serious. 

Men like Astarion did not pursue women like Winnie. The human female wasn't exactly sure anyone would ever pursue her, but it definitely wouldn't be someone as breathtakingly beautiful as the pale elf. 

Winnie glanced around the blighted village before pushing through the door of an old abandoned house as she began to remember something one of the elder druids in her circle said when she was a child. “She's nothing but a weed amongst the flowers.” The old bitch had said.  Winnie rolled her eyes with a sigh as the others scouted the area.

“This looks like a suitable place to make camp.” Gale stated, looking around.

“It'll serve.” Lae'zel added and dropped her pack on the ground near an old fireplace. 

“It'll be nice to at least have a roof over our heads for once.” Shadowheart chimed in as she walked over and glanced over an arrangement of books that littered one of the walls. 

“Pft, if you can even call it that! This hovel is practically crumbling!” Astarion exclaimed.

“If you'd prefer to sleep elsewhere, be my guest.” Winnie replied before setting her own things down.

Wyll looked over the fireplace and checked around the house for any fire wood, but unfortunately there didn't appear to be any in sight. 

“We might want to go find some wood to build a fire before nightfall.” He suggested.

“I can do that.” Winnie stood up, “I'll see if there's anything else we can scavenge nearby.” 

“I'll go with you. It would only be the gentlemanly thing to do, accompanying a lady.” Gale piped up.

“Yeah sure, come if you want.” Winnie shrugged before turning and leaving the ruined house.

Gale followed after her before the two were also accompanied by Astarion.

“I’m coming too.” He said, sauntering up behind Winnie. 

“I'm surprised Astarion. I didn't think manual labor was your forte, nor yours either Gale.” The druid female hummed.

“Well I'm not about to let you go and do all the work alone!” The wizard added.

“And I never said I was going to help, watch Gale fail miserably to impress you perhaps, but I am certainly not going to risk damaging these nails for firewood.” Astarion sassed looking over his pointed vampire spawn claws with a pout.

Winnie rolled her eyes, ”good gods, might as well have let me go alone.” The druid female muttered, walking off ahead of the two men. Her eyes scanned the blighted village. The place was crawling with goblins and even though they let the party pass through on the count of them being ‘True Souls’ Winnie wasn't very convinced that they would be friendly enough to offer her group supplies. 

Her and the boys continued to search about, Astarion seeming all too pleased to give Gale a hard time today. Eventually after passing a large gate and strolling towards the edge of the ruined village the three adventures came across a shed.

Winnie stepped towards it, immediately coming to a halt as she began to hear low grunts and moans coming from the other side of the door.

“Oh dear….” Gale exclaimed, a look of horror adorning his bearded face.

“Do I even want to know…?” Winnie turned pale with disgust.

“I do! Sounds absolutely disgusting heh heh heh..”Astarion chuckled with a mischievous glint in his crimson red eyes. 

“You want to take a peek be my guest, but don't expect me to rush in after you.” Winnie rolled her eyes looking back at Astarion. 

“And here I thought you'd be interested in joining the fun, darling.” Astarion gave Winnie a wink before swinging the door open, a giddy shit eating grin spreading across the pale elf's face. 

“Oh gods….” Winnie gasped as she and Gale looked forward seeing a bugbear and a lady ogre in the ahem doggy style position. The two humans' faces were filled with horror and disgust while Astarion still had that same stupid grin on his face.

“WHAT THE HELLS ARE YOU DOING!?” The bugbear screamed as he pulled away from his lover. 

“Uh…. I'm very sorry! W-We were just leaving!” Winnie said nervously, face turning red in embarrassment.

“You two make a lovely couple by the way!” Gale said, trying to deflect any tension, but the two lovers did not seem to appreciate the compliment.

“Kinky.” Astarion clicked his tongue with a smirk. 

“MOMENT RUINED! I SMASH YOU!” The ogre suddenly pulled out a huge club and slammed it down right in Winnie's direction. Luckily the druid was able to leap back just in the nick of time. 

The bugbear began to charge in her direction only to receive an arrow to his shoulder, swiftly shot by Astarion who’d quickly climbed atop some nearby crates.  Winnie quickly unsheathed her scimitars from her back, rushing the bugbear and slashing him across the chest.  The she-ogre growled and took another swing at Winnie, prompting Gale to cast magic missile hitting both the ogre and bugbear. 

The bugbear let out a loud scream of pain before dropping down onto the ground.

“NO GRUKKOH!!!” The ogre shouted, tears welling up in her eyes before she glared at Gale with pure hate and rage. “YOU WILL DIE!!!!” 

Quickly before she can move to smite Gale with her club Astarion is quick to notch an arrow and fire it, hitting the ogre right in the left eye. Gale hits her with a bolt of lightning before Winnie makes a dash to run behind her. She then turns and uses her druidic magic to summon a vine from her hand and lasso the ogre’s leg, yanking on it hard. The beastly female tumbled back letting out a cry as she fell to the ground. 

Winnie then took the opportunity to leap up on top of her and slam her scimitars right down into the ogre’s chest, piercing her heart. Blood splattered upon the druid as she pulled her blades out of the she-beast’s chest, getting on her face and shoulders. She panted and hopped down off the large corpse. Astarion's ears turned a bit pink as he glanced over at the blood drenched female.  Honestly he had to admit…..That was kind of hot…

“A pity we had to put an end to the two lovers.” Gale spoke up.

“Better them than me.” Winnie said wiping a bit of blood off her face.

“Darling, hold on a moment. Allow me to help.” Astarion said, quickly rushing over to where the human female stood. Her strange fushia colored eyes looked back at him with curiosity. The vampire ran his thumb over her cheek, collecting a bit of blood before all too eagerly sucking it off his digit. His thumb pulled out of his mouth with a wet pop. “That was a very….enticing display you know?~” He purred seductively in her ear just quiet enough for Gale not to hear. 

“Uh…Thanks…” Winnie looked off to the side checks turning bright red. 

“Ahem! Well shouldn't we return to work? The sun’s nearly gone and we have yet to find some firewood!” Gale piped up, trying to change the subject before stepping in between the rogue and druid.

“Actually darling, I think our dear druid should probably take a rest. She did most of the fighting after all.” Astarion put his hand on Gale’s shoulder.  “And offering to get the firewood for her would definitely be the gentlemanly thing to do.” 

“You're not going to offer to help me are you?” Gale rose an eyebrow.

“Oh gods no! My dear wizard, you can't expect me to leave this sweet little thing all by herself?” Astarion said before moving piece of Winnie’s messy brown locks out of her face.

“I'm perfectly fine guys….I can actually just go get the wood by myself….” Winnie said feeling Astarion's hungry eyes leering at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Why was he being so aggressive with his flirting today?

Winnie wasn't exactly too worn out, but at the same time she really didn't feel like feeding this overgrown mosquito tonight. Partially because she had been getting devoured by actual mosquitoes left and right since they’d wondering the wilderness. 

“I'm not sure if it's wise to leave a lamb alone with a wolf.” Gale gave Astarion a suspicious glare. 

“Hey! If anyone’s a wolf it's me!” Winnie pouted and crossed her arms. She was rather offended Gale didn't seem to acknowledge her most used wildshape.

“A wolf and a panther then.” Gale said.

“How dare you! I would never lay a finger on our darling leader!” Astarion crossed his arms.

“Okay, I think we've wasted enough time already.” Winnie said before wild-shaping into a black bear and wandering off to collect the wood herself.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~• 

Later that evening after Winnie had brought back the firewood she shifted back into her human form and hid herself away from the others, making herself comfortable in what was left of the ruined house’s bedroom.  She glanced up at the mirror beside her, studying her face. Dark circles colored underneath her eyes, left by sleepless nights. Messy brown locks that never behaved no matter what she did.  A scarred lip from her first real battle. And her body oh how she despised it. It was far too plump for her tastes.

"Nothing but a weed amongst the flowers."

“Why would anyone ever fall in love with you? You're disgusting!”

“Just as fat as a deep rothé and twice as ugly!”

“She's definitely gonna die alone.”

Winnie’s brows knitted together before she stood up and slammed the mirror into the wall, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. She breathed in and out, taking a moment to process what she had just done. The young druid honestly had no idea what had come over her. Why were these tormentful thoughts all coming back now?

Surely there were better things to be thinking about!? The disgusting parasite in her brain for one! She needed to get it together, or risk turning into something much more grotesque.

Winnie needed to get some air. She left the house through the back entrance and stepped off into the nearby forest, breathing in and out slowly. She closed her eyes and just took a moment to listen to all the soothing sounds of nature. Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, an owl hooting above the trees and footsteps…

Wait, footsteps!?

Winnie quickly turned around, her hand reaching into her pack for a blade when she noticed a familiar pair of red eyes looking back at her.

“I was hoping I'd finally be able to get you alone.~” 

“Astarion? Look, I'm really not in the mood to give you blood tonight. Maybe tomorrow?” Winnie sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh, I'm not here for that darling. I'm here for you.” Astarion approached, eyes looking her up and down as his perfect pretty lips formed a painfully fake looking smile.

“You need my help with something?” Winnie tilted her head in confusion.

“In a manner of speaking. I've grown rather attached to you if I'm honest.” Astarion placed a hand on his hip.

“Ah, well that's sweet of you to say. I'm really glad to have made some friends on this journey.” Winnie said with a smile. 

“Oh my sweet. I'm not talking about friendship. I'm talking about desire.~” Astarion leaned a bit closer. His breath hit Winnie’s face as he slightly towered over the short female.

“I…. Don't follow….” Winnie said awkwardly. Astarion blinked and then proceeded to pinch the bride of his nose.

“Oh for gods sake. SEX. Darling, I'm talking about sex.” Astarion said with annoyance, crossing his arms. Winnie’s face turned bright red as he finally spelled it out.  It finally explained why he seemed so aggressive with his flirting lately. But at the same time Winnie just couldn't believe Astarion was actually making a pass at her. Her of all people!

“You're joking, right?” Winnie chuckled nervously.

“Why would I be?” Astarion gave her a confused look.

“Wouldn't you rather spend a night with one of the others? Lae'zel or Shadowheart? Or maybe even Wyll?” Winnie asked.

“Ha! Please. As if I'd waste my time with one of them! I have standards, dear.” Astarion said sassily.

“I'm just…You have seen me right?” Winnie said, looking away shyly. Astarion couldn't help but frown for a moment. Winnie seemed very....well insecure. It was clear she didn't seem to believe he could in any way find her attractive. He was however quick to resume his flirty persona.

“Indeed, I have and I find you to be rather delectable looking.~” 

“Yeah, yeah stop messing with me, okay. It's not funny.” Winnie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. Astarion internally panicked. Fuck. He couldn't let her leave. It would completely ruin his plans! 

“I'm not! I crave you!” Astarion quickly grabbed hold of her and pinned her to a tree. Winnie let out a grunt before looking up and blushing darkly.

“I want to feel you squirm under me.~” He said huskily. Winnie was at a complete loss for words. What the hells was she even supposed to fucking say to that!? Her heart was pounding so fast and she honestly felt like if he said one more word she'd faint right there. “And I know you want me too.~ I've seen how you look at me. How your heart races when I'm near. And don't think I haven't noticed the little lustful glances you give my backside you naughty thing!~”

“I-I-I…OKAY YOU'VE MADE YOUR POINT!” Winnie said, and pushed against him, making him back up.  She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take before she suddenly melted into a puddle. Winnie was not used to this kind of attention at all. “Sorry I just…I'm not used to this…” Winnie said, a bit embarrassed, “feel like I'm going to explode…Heheh…”

“Cute.” Astarion smirked at Winnie’s nervousness.

“I've never been with anyone if I'm honest….Hells I’ve never even been kissed.” Winnie looked down, honestly feeling rather ashamed.

Oh gods, why did you say that!? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! 

Astarion then gently took her hand, “I would be happy to teach you.” He said before planting a soft kiss on her hand. Winnie took a deep breath, nervousness filled her belly. She looked into his eyes and nodded, “okay.” 

Astarion cupped her cheek, his crimson red eyes staring into her pink ones as he rubbed a cold thumb over her cheek.  Winnie closed her eyes and puckered her lips, slowly anticipating for him to make the next move.  She felt his breath hit her face before his soft lips met her own. At first it was sweet and innocent, nothing but a chaste little peck. But then he pushed her back up against the tree and pressed his body against hers. Winnie gasped feeling Astarion grind himself against her, allowing him to snake his tongue into her mouth deeping their kiss. His free hand reached down to cup one of her ass cheeks, giving it a firm squeeze through her pants. 

“Mmmm!” Winnie moaned into his mouth, her arms slowly finding their way around his neck as she squirmed. She could feel a hard growing bulge prod her core as he pushed his hips against her own. His tongue swirled around her own, exploring and dominating her mouth, but eventually she was forced to pull back for air.  A string of saliva connected their mouths as they pulled back. Winnie panted, staring back at the vampire who was seductively licking his lips. One of his hands was still groping her ass. 

“A-Ah!~” The brunette haired druid let out a whimper as the elf pressed his clothed cock into her. 

“You make such adorable sounds, darling.” He purred before planting another kiss on her lips. Winnie quickly returned it before Astarion began to move down her jaw, trailing kisses lower. 

His tongue lapped over her neck before he quickly began to suck on the delicate skin eagerly.

He kept one hand on her ass while the other reached up to undo her the buttons of her shirt.

Winnie bit her lip as she felt the cool air hit her breasts, her nipples hardening quick.  

Astarion smirked, his eyes hungrily eyeing her well endowed assets. Who knew she could fit something so big under her shirt? If he'd known they were this large he'd have bedded her sooner. Astarion licked his lips before leaning in to plant a kiss on top of one of her breasts. Unfortunately before his mouth could make contact with her skin he ended up being rudely interrupted. 

“There you two are-” Gale's voice trailed off, his face turned bright red.

“Is everything okay….Oh….” Wyll’s eyes widened as he peaked out from behind Gale.

“What is it? Did something happen!? Oh well that's interesting…” Shadowheart said, appearing behind Wyll. 

“Chk! As expected. It was only a matter of time.” Lae'zel seemed completely unfazed as she stood beside Shadowheart.

“Ooh Winnie! Get it!” Karlach cheered, jumping out from behind the others, tail wagging with excitement.

“Do you fucking mind!?” Astarion hissed and pulled back, glaring at the others as Winnie quickly turned away and buttoned up her shirt.  This was so fucking embarrassing! Her pink eyes quickly scanned the area for a hole to crawl inside.

“And here I was worried you were planning on eating our dear friend. Although I suppose I'm technically not wrong….” Gale hummed.

To be continued………

Note From TheChaoticDruid: Just gonna say, the last part was inspired by an infamous Dragon Age Inquisition scene. XD And I was going to try to fit both parts into one, but it just got so long that I decided to cut it in half.

[messiahzzz]

There's nothing light hearted about it. You're all hell bent on driving marginalized people out of fandom unless they bow to you all's supremacy and dominance. I for one have deleted my blog and will not again be engaging in the BG3 fandom because of how you treat anyone who don't submit to fem!Tav/Gale dominance, I hope you're all proud of yourself.

i had to read this a few times and i genuinely still don’t understand why you would send this to me of all people???

i have always been a strong advocate for more fan content that portrays gale in mlm/queer relationships. there is literally nothing on my blog that would indicate the opposite. in fact, i have repeatedly addressed gale’s bisexuality in the past [x] [x], as well as called out the biphobia & heteronormativity within the fandom. this particular topic is an issue i feel very strongly about since it affects the experience & inclusion of many queer people within the fandom. all of the romance related content i post strictly refer to tav with gender neutral pronouns. the only exception is when i happen to talk about my own ocs, but even then they are usually directly referred to by name.

i have no interest in urging people to “submit to the fem!tav/gale dominance” as you put it or to push some sort of agenda. if anything, i’d say it’s quite the opposite. people can do with their ocs whatever they wish, it’s none of my business and frankly, neither do i care. have fun to your hearts content.

“You're all hell bent on driving marginalized people out of fandom / I hope you're all proud of yourself.”

……….who is this collective intent on sowing misery that you speak of? i am honestly perturbed by the mental gymnastics you have to do to come to the conclusion that calling out continuous plagiarism backed by explicit proof & references is actually just an act of veiled queer/transphobia. a good chunk of the fanbase are queer themselves and/or pair gale with a male oc! creating this narrative that fandom chose to single out this one specific person with the goal to “bully them off the platform”, for several people to (independently!) go through the trouble of faking receipts and evidence, solely on the basis of this person’s gender identity/their preference for mlm content is hinting at a persecution complex to say the least. quite frankly it just seems like a ploy to deflect from the issue at hand. this isn’t about “alienating & bullying” people to the point they decided to leave the fandom, in this particular case it is about escaping responsibility & refusing accountability.

deciding to distance yourself from the fandom for your own mental health is a decision you’re neither forced to announce nor one you will receive judgement for. it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their experience. if spending time in this space doesn’t bring you joy for whatever reason, it’s more than okay to take a break or leave entirely to move onto more pleasant things. in the same sense, you should never feel pressured to engage or interact with anyone. you are free to block at the slightest offense and do whatever feels right for you.

[wasteland-squog-baby]

Ok, so, This is all set within the fictionally metropolis of Midnight Park, a city of 10 million on the shores of the Maryland coast. Midnight Park is a very divided place, with the tech moguls of the Silicon Heights looking over the squalor of Hooverville, the lush gardens, parks, and graveyards of Greenbelt being leeched of life from the smog of the Production Quarter, and the ever-watchful eye of their heroes of the Luminary Society just can't pierce through the shadowed allies and tunnels their rival villains lurk in.

First up on the hit list is Squall, Dr Simon Gale, the oldest of the villains who looks a bit like an cantaloupe balancing on top of a bowling ball, or some hybrid of that guy from those Boom Beach ads that was a meme a few years back with classic Eggman or Doc Ock. They were bullied for their looks during their childhood (especially by one Benedict Bright who you'll see later) and would grow into a meteorologist and climatologist, top of their class. Unfortunately, they were cursed to became one of the first to realize the potential dangers of climate change back in like the 90's and nobody took their observations seriously, reminding them of their childhood torments. In a fit of rage, the used experimental equipment for inducing artificial rainfall to turn a light drizzle into a pounding storm, flooding Midnight Park and dawning the modern age of heroes and villains. Unfortunately, they're ego would only grow and they'd slowly begin to see themself as the arbiter of natures wraith and be blinded to the cruelty of their actions.

Next up is Tox, Dr Garrett Adams. Dr Adams wasn't anyone special, just some humble chemist working for Venture Chemicals Co in the Production Quarter. That all changed during Squall's storm though. The floodwaters caused the chemical vats to burst and spill, dissolving several workers alive whilst Garrett was stranded in the rafters above where they're body slowly absorbed the fumes. Their skin and fat began to melt off their muscle and bones as it turned to wax from chemical exposure, soaking in chemical fumes and radiation as Adams used what first aid supplies he had to stave off death. By the time the floodwaters receded, Him and the chemicals had become one, a congealed mass of atomic tallow and luminous green organs within in endless agony that warped his mind into nothing but an abyss of hate. hate. hate. hate.

Then is Everyman, Tomas Jackson. Jackson was some unremarkable middle-aged conservative man who believed in standing for what you think is right and a growing resentment for the government. That was, until, some random no-name crook broke into his house and stole a family heirloom, his grandmother's old necklace, at which point he attempted to follow shotgun in hand to get it back. When he couldn't and the police also failed to find it, he was filled with rage and vowed to take makers into his own hands. Doning a home-forged steel helmet, gloves, trenchcoat, and voice changer, they set off into the night with a shotgun, a dream, and a very black-and-white sense of morality. These days, many of his fellow hands-on right wingers have donned similar costumes and joined him in his secret lair, the Halls of Justice, to find, torture, and execute whoever they deem guilty.

Mister Bones, Benedict Bright, was a bully growing up, especially to a young Simon Gale. His parents own a large carnival boardwalk by the name of the Bright Time Mile in Founder's Bay. His father died when Benedict was in his twenties and gave him control over the park. This was not a good idea as Mr Bright thought that the fear on the faces of others was just the funniest thing ever and slowly but surely made the park more thrilling, more threatening, more terrifying so he could laugh at the helpless scared children. He got a degree in sociology so that he could be even better at scaring people until they lost their minds and had his engineers work on developing advanced animatronics capable of free motion and though. Eventually, the Bright Time Mile's fear factor was toned down significantly to attract new guests and Mr Benedict started to dress in a more fitting costume, red and black with skeletal bodypaint. However, soon after this refurbishment, reports started to come out. Of of man in a black and white pinstripe suit, skull-faced gasmask, wide brimmed hat, oversized blood-stained mallet, and a simple wand loaded with a radioactive isotope that would melt the flesh right off your bones, and this man would chase you down without relent or remorse laughing at your screams until you could scream no more or grew too brave, at which point they'd get bored and leave.

Amp, Ruby Neumann, was the daughter of a German immigrant and was a lover of all things adrenaline-pumping, especially hardbass music. When they reached adulthood, they attempted to start a band, Bloodboil, but it never got off the ground. After that, she became a audio engineer and pioneered some interesting techniques. During a job under Benedict Bright to try to create audio disks that hum at just the right frequency to cause hallucinations, the hero Technopath broke in and gave chase, causing the equipment to short out and drive several other workers deaf. She escaped but lost the research for the disks but came to realize something; being chased... is actually pretty fun. She crafted a custom sound-suit covered with speakers that sounded at a frequency that could shatter stone and a sonic blaster that would rupture flesh and became a mercenary for the various gangs of Midnight Park, serving under them for the ultimate thrill.

And last for the villains is Krake, Richard Steinman. you already know about them. A cosmetics surgeon and geneticist who helped transgender and non-binary people transition until they had an otherkin awakening themself and was hit by a gnawing, insatiable longing to be an octopus (or, rather, the BODY of an octopus, they already were one in mind) even though they knew that they could reach reach it until Squall's storm created Tox and Midas, neither of which can really be considered human anymore and gave poor Steinman hope that they can achive their heart's desire with enough equipment, chemicals, and test subjects and so set up a secret lab in the Midnight Park underground where they performed inhumane experiments attempting to crack the code of transformation, eventually managing to figure it out and partly turn themself into an octopus, the happiest day of their life, but now aware of the toil they've reaped on the innocent citizens of Midnight park, all the friends they've lost and traded for power-hungry gangsters who wanted power for cheap, and these days they cry themselves to sleep every night,

However, now, it's hero time.

First is co-founder of the Luminary Society, Silver Sentinel. Henry Steele was a car mechanic in Founder's Bay until getting a new job as an engineer for Benedict Bright at the Bright Time Mile designing animatronics. He did this for some time before slowly realizing that what Bright wants aren't just animatronic mascot characters, but androids, semi-aware fake people, and that just didn't sit right with them and so they left, turning back to their old work for a while before bumping into an Everyman recruiter who conviced them to serve under the forces of "Justice", taking a box of mechanical limbs from their old job and created a primitive suit of power armor to boost his strength. After about a month though, he realized that Everyman was just a butcher, killing any who he arbitrarily deemed "Guilty" and moving one actually without doing anything to make Midnight Park a better place and so, left them. He wondered guilty and aimless for some time before meeting Coldheart and founding the Luminary Society to atone for their past sins, establishing a strict code of honor to make up for it.

Of course, Next up is Coldheart. Emeline Eaton was a skier, the best in all Midnight Park in fact. She would ski down the slopes of Appalachia every winter preparing for the day she could enter into the Winter Olympics, her personal dream and everyone believed in her. One winter when she was setting off, a strange man in a hazmat suit approached her, not a single snowflake on their body preaching how fit she was. She listened, confused, until the figure proclaimed how much he DESPISED health as they took off their hood, revealing the vile molten features of Tox right before Emeline punch him right in the face in response, only for Tox to merely laugh as the chemical cocktail begain to make her flesh melt too arm-first. She fell on the ground and rolled down the slope, slamming right into a frozen lake. She awoke later that month after the thaw with bluish frostbite skin and discovered that no level of cold effect her anymore but if she were to ever rise above the freezing point, she'd begin to melt like Tox. She lived for a week sleeping in mall freezers and walking around with a sack of dry ice tied to her back before meeting Silver Sentinel, who rigged up a crude insulation suit to keep her cool and together they formed the Luminary Society.

Midas, Dr Gianni Agneas, was a quantum physicist specializing in using particle smashers and accelerators to transmutate old or synthesize new elements. He was working on an experimental device he named the Philosopher's Engine that could transmute any one substance into any other when Squall's storm hit, lightning striking the side of the lab and causing the machine to go haywire spouting particles and radiation until it exploded, knocking Gianni out in the process. When they awoke, Everything left in the ruins had been transmuted, including themself, they had been turned to a scintillating rainbow of elements such as lead, bismuth, and sulfur and whatever they touched would itself be transmuted into something different. After a few years as a medical oddity, they had learned to control their powers, being able to choose what they turned what into, joining the Luminary Society and turning enough trash into gold to allow them to buy an abandoned observation tower to turn into their headquarters, the Luminary Spire.

Technopath, Nathan Sutton, isn't from Midnight Park, he's not even from the east coast. Born in the state of California as the son of the tech billionaire Dell Sutton of Telekinetics Inc, Nathan never faced much hardship growing up and so spent most of their time reading comic books and watching movies. They were big fans of stories about cowboy and pirate vigilantes and secret spies infiltrating the lairs of megalomaniacal masterminds. After hearing of the Luminary Society following the purchase of the Luminary Spire and their growing awareness of their father's love of money over them, he underwent an experimental surgery to have Telekinetics Inc technology installed into his body, becoming a cyborg with built-in radios and electromagnets granting them powers like remote usage of electronics, telekinesis, and more before moving to Midnight Park and applying for the Society several times before getting approved as their youngest member. Silver Sentinel is something of an idol of theirs and they seem potential in the young cyborg and have taken them in as a pupil.

Nightshade, real name Sophia Burke, always preferred plants to people. Plants wouldn't bully you for being weird, plants would always listen to what you have to say, plants would never be "too busy" to pay attention to their child. As she grew, she got a degree in botany and toxicology whilst studying abroad. When she came back however, She discovered that her parents had been murdered. No matter how strained there relationship, she still valued their lives and so went out to try to find the killer, Using her knowledge to blend into the plantlife and apply subtle poisons to their enemies to render them inoperable. Eventually she found the culprit; Everyman, Her parents were corrupt it turns out and had been engaging with drug smuggling for the black market and he couldn't let that stand. Shaken to her core by that discovery but still wanting to put a stop to Everyman's crimes and not believe that they're strong enough, she joined the Luminary Society to train, though her willingness to kill give her a strained relationship with the rest of them.

And that's it. That's them, my boys!

The boys. They be back in town?

[pooonnyboooyyy]

My Starlight Express HUMAN! Au: World plus citizens. Part one

General: Racecity, USA takes the place of the train yard and it’s centered around the 50s-60s. Racecity is the home of the Racing National Championship with it’s reigning champion being from Racecity.

-Richard “Rusty” McCoy

Rusty is 23 and is from a very religious and old fashion family. He lives with his father, Poppa McCoy (A former campion.) His mother, Belle McCoy and his brothers Fredrick McCoy(Flat-top) and Dustin McCoy (Hopper.) He dreams of winning the Championship with his father’s old racing car but is often bullied by the others. He has a major crush on Pearl

-Pearl DuPont

She is 22 and new to town and is from a rich and prominent family. She is friends with Dinah, Di, Buffy and Ashley and is often seen at the disco downtown. She is sought after by a certain new-comer in the race to be his partner, despite her promise to Rusty to be his partner.

-Derek “Greaseball” Russell

He is 26 and is the reigning champion of the National Racing Championship. He is pretty arrogant and self-centered and is the fiancé of Dinah (not to be confused with Di who is his sister’s girlfriend.) For all of his faults he is supportive of his sister’s sexuality. He is the main bully of Rusty. He is extremely proud of his diesel car engine that he says is faster than lighting. Is often seen around his fiancé and his gang. Has been undefeated for 10 years

-Gale “Greasy” Russell

She is 15 and is the little sister of Greaseball and is the girlfriend to Di. She is just under the age of qualification for the Championship but plans on playing in it next year. Her legal guardian is Greaseball and lives with him. She, like her brother is arrogant and self-centered. Works at the auto shop for some extra spending money (totally not because there’s a cute waitress at the dinner next door.)

-Dinah Campbell

She is 24 and is the fiancé to Greaseball. She works at the dinner and is a manager, she is the legal guardian of her distant cousin, Di. She is very loyal to Derek and has been his partner since she was 14 and he 16 (the partner qualifying age is 14.) Will often be seen at the disco. And will hang out with her fiancé and his gang (plus Gale)

-Dinah “Di” Humphrey

Di is 14 and is the girlfriend to Gale. She is nicknamed Di so that she doesn’t get mixed up with her Legal guardian and distance cousin who is also named Dinah. She works at the dinner where she is the newest waitress, but will often sneak out to see a certain champion’s little sister at the repair shop.

-Callum Benjamin “CB” Breaker

He is 24 and works for the McCoy’s at their scrap yard. And is a literal diagnosed psychopath who has unalived in the past sooo not the most qualified person for making sure breaks work properly. He has a type of obsession with Dinah (he’s been trying to sabotage Derek’s car so he can get with her.)

- Electra Futureman

22 and a newcomer to the Championship. He has more of a 80s aesthetic and look to him. His car is electric and is lighter than air making it more faster. Wants Pearl for his partner and travels with his own entourage (the components). Extremely full of himself and is a soar loser. Hostile towards Derek and Rusty.

What do y’all think? I decided to add both Bochum GB and Dinah and Wembley GB and Dinah because I really couldn’t decide. And I used a random name generator for both GB’s human names and used the first letter of the rest of the train’s names for the rest of it. More is to come!

Next part will be the rest of the freight trains and the coaches.