#wylls is metal as hell

[saveskum]

BG3 combat visuals pt 3.

[rainbow-femme]

Of all the companion pairings, I hadn’t expected Wyll/Karlach being my favorite but I just love the dynamic

Because obviously you’ve got the whole thing of him wanting to kill her because he thought she was evil and then realized she was also a victim and was willing to be turned into a demon because he wasn’t willing to sacrifice an innocent person for himself, and her then being willing to stand up to the devils who want her dead on his behalf

But I also feel like as far as a relationship dynamic they would be a Prince Charming/damsel thing except they both think they’re the Prince Charming and the other is the damsel

Wyll lamenting how his endlessly kind wife who only wants to live a simple life where she is treated equally kindly was tricked, sold, had her heart replaced with an infernal engine that keeps her trapped in basically hell, and was forced to be the first line of attack for the devil who did this to her. Meanwhile behind him Karlach is looking at a locked metal gate and just decides to open it by bending the bars with her bare hands, melting the iron as she does because she has flames inside of her body

Karlach talking about her poor husband Wyll who gave up a comfortable life as the son of a duke to be entered into a devil’s pact and made into a homeless hero who would always protect people but never really get to exist as his own person outside of his pact and his folk hero perception. Meanwhile Wyll is eldritch blasting a demon in the face behind her with an entirely casual and unbothered look on his face

They fix Karlach to the point where she can leave Avernus and Wyll goes to his family and friends to prepare them for meeting her, telling them that she can be very sensitive and has gone through some rough times and grew up on the streets so she’s going to be more rough around the edges than they’re used to and it would probably upset her to come back home only to be made fun of, so please be kind. And in walks his 7 foot tall wife who is as wide as the door with her big giant muscles, battle ax strapped to her back, slapping Duke Ravengard on the shoulder and asking “How the hell are ya?”

Karlach goes to her old Baldur’s Gate friends and says she wants them to meet her husband but he’s the son of nobility and spent a long time living in that more polished world so he talks very formal and polite and isn’t really used to how they talk and interact so please don’t make fun of him if you think he speaks funny. And in walks the Blade of the Frontiers with a suspicious amount of not quite dried blood on his pants

They both think they’re the “They said no pickles” part of the relationship but actually if they asked for no pickles and were given pickles they would make eye contact with the person who did it while using their biggest two handed weapon to scrape the pickles off onto the floor

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Heavy Metal Lover

Karlach x F! Tav

18+ physical combat (consensual), so much teasing, public sex (kind of), manhandling, roughness, restraint, dom karlach/sub tav, strength kink, hand kink, size difference, fingering (f!), grinding, light choking, overstimulation, porn w/o plot

With her touch newly returned, Karlach is hungry for contact. Seeking out Tav for a little hand to hand combat that quickly turns heated...

Masterlist

-

Tav resisted rolling her eyes at Astarion's wide grin. That face meant only one thing, he was about to be insufferable about something.

"What?" She sighed, resigned to the incoming teasing.

"You haven't noticed, have you?" He purred, an indulgent edge of pre-emptive preening in his voice.

"Obviously not, if you're being this unbearable." She sniped flatly, turning back to hanging laundry on tip toes.

He slid his foot under the arch of her heel, biting at her teasingly when she turned to give him a glare. Baring her own absent fangs.

"Look real close now..." He pointed across camp to Karlach. She was trying to talk Wyll into sparring with her, him trying to wave her away good naturedly.

Tav roved her eyes over the tall muscular body, pushing the slow creep of lust aside to focus on any changes.

She was starting to get frustrated, suddenly sure that Astarion was just fucking with her again, trying to get her to ogle their companion.

That's when she caught it. Two newly rounded talons on her right hand, pointer and middle finger.

Tav sucked in an involuntarily breath, lips falling open. All higher thinking pulled from her mind.

"Eager, isn't she?" Astarion crooned, jolting Tav back. His voice far too knowing for her taste as he hovered behind her.

"It's only been one night since she's gotten touch back, I admire her ambition."

Knowing his hands were clasped behind his back in that leaning way he always does.

Karlach's eyes caught Tav's, waving excitedly. Like they hadn't been together all day, rocking on the balls of her feet happily.

Tav groaned, heart jelly.

"Oh," Astarion lilted out a laugh. "She's got it bad for you."

"Wait, really?" Tav turned to him, clothespin in hand. Her snarky play falling back for a moment in genuine confusion.

Astarion tilted his head at her, his demeanor falling back in kind. "Seriously? Gods, Tav, you really are unobservant."

"Hey, it's not that I don't pay attention. I'm just blind to when it's aimed at me." She huffed, crossing arms.

"Oh, I know. I'm still amazed that you were blindsided to Gale's pining."

He relented when Tav threw her arms up in frustration.

"Ah, ah, okay. You're just blind to your own suitors, we'll agree. So trust me as an objective pair of eyes. That tower of muscle wants you. Badly."

"Oh, and here she comes now!" Astarion giggled, trapezing away on delighted feet. "Good luck with your new knowledge, darling!"

"Someone wants to go hungry tonight!" She threatened after him. Him giving her a little twirl.

"Uh-oh, you two are always at each other's throats." Karlach laughed, watching him go with fond eyes. "Literally."

"Oh, we were just playing." Tav assured, returning to hanging sheets.

"What's up, Karlach?" She asked, back on tip toes. Smoothing hands over the pleats, stretching up to pin the fabric down.

Karlach grabbed the clothespin from her hands easily, pinning it above her natural reach.

"Oh! Thank you!" Tav squeaked. Trying not to give the height difference between them any thought at all.

"Well, no one will spar with me." Karlach pouted. Her eyes starting to swim with tears that she brushed away with angry fingers. Huffing out a steadying breath, smiling down at Tav.

"But I think you might be under my weight class, might be an unfair fight to ask you."

Tav's heart thrilled.

"I mean... I am stronger than I look."

This was true. She was eyeline with mostly chests, but she could pull some weight. Hells she's carried unconscious Gale over her shoulders several times now in the heat of battle.

Huh. Okay, his crush on her makes sense.

"I would love to spar with you, Karlach." She smiled, handing her up another sheet to hang.

"Really?!" Karlach bunched the fabric in her hands in excitement.

"Oh, whoops." She shook out the fabric, giving it one hard flick of her wrist. The fabric snapping in the air.

Tav let out a little involuntarily moan, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Gods below, what was that...

"You okay, soldier? Felling up to it?"

"Yeah, just.. uh, a little woozy." She tapped the side of her neck where the given pinpricks lay.

"You know, now that I'm touchable again, I wouldn't mind giving you a break some nights. Mama K's got a lot of blood to give."

Tav saw a silver head pop up in her peripheral.

"Ah, I'm alright." Tav flapped her hands in an affable way. "Though something tells me our favorite leech might start circling now."

"He's a hungry boy, we gotta keep him big and strong!" Karlach laughed.

"Okay, big and strong, I'll see you tonight." Tav teased.

Karlach's tail curled up, arching at the base. Her cheekbones heating.

"Okay... Well. Bye..." She sighed, turning and walking in a forced casualty that even Tav could clock.

Astarion's mouth had fallen open, hand hovering over his jaw. When he caught Tav's gaze, he pointed to where a tail would be on his body. Raising his eyebrows in salacious glee.

Tav didn't know much about tiefling tail etiquette but could glean enough from his pantomiming. Her own cheeks warming as she stomped at him to quit it, only fueling the bouncing suppressed laughter in his shoulders.

-

Initially, several of their companions had agreed to sit ringside. But as the day wore endlessly on with sun bearing down, most of them either decided to retire early or wade into the cool river with a few bottles of wine.

"Don't take too long..." Astarion sing-songed over his shoulder, a wine bottle hanging loose from his fingertips.

"Oh! Wait!" Tav called, standing and meeting him in the middle. Unbuckling the strap on the dagger at his hip, taking the bottle from his fingers and uncorking it with her teeth.

"Ugh, don't do that. You'll ruin your teeth." He chided, angling his hip for her to pull the dagger free.

"Shush." She cut into the back of her hand, dripping it into the rim of the thick glass. Swirling slowly.

He took his dagger back with a spin of fingers, seating it back with an unconscious flourish.

"Say when." She flexed her hand, encouraging more flow.

"Is never an option?"

"No, unless you want to get punched again."

"Gods, you do have a mean hook." He rubbed his jaw in memory.

"Alright fine. That's plenty." Leaning forward, he licked the stem of blood until it slowed to a stop.

"You know that only closes your wounds, right? Or I'd put you to use as a cleric on the battlefield."

He sighed dreamily. "Oh, it would be delicious. But very uncharitable motivation, I assure you."

"Well, best be off." He eyed the approaching tiefling with a mischievous twinkle. "Thank you, my darling."

She kissed his cheek. "No problem, have fun."

He waved over his shoulder as he departed, Karlach coming to Tav's side.

"Aw, you two are so cute together."

"Oh, we're not together." Tav laughed, the thought strange. "He reminds me of so many of my siblings."

"So many?" Karlach laughed. "Wait, how many do you have?"

"Entirely too many." Tav huffed, unconsciously settling into that authoritative posture she used with them.

"Aw, man. I want too many!" Karlach clicked her tongue. "Ah, well. Can't win 'em all."

"Speaking of, prepared to lose?" Tav teased, rolling her shoulders back.

"Oh, ho," Karlach laughed, settling back into a crouch. "Bring it on, babe."

Tav widened her stance, rolling her arm back in a curved elbow. Loosening her neck.

"Ready?" Tav hummed, balanced on the heels of her feet.

"Very." Karlach urged, fingers flexing.

"Then come get me." Tav smiled.

Karlach lunged forward, trying to sweep her leg.

Tav picked up her feet, ducking around her. Dodging another hand reaching for her wrist.

She laughed as she planted a foot to stand on Karlach's crouched hip. Using her shoulder as a hold to step up, swinging around her back to put her in a headlock. Hand pushing into her throat.

"Choking, huh?" She chided.

Karlach kneeled down abruptly, slamming her back into the ground.

Tav released, the air taken out of her. Still trying to lock her legs around Karlach's thighs.

"Oh, come on," Karlach laughed, prying her legs open with her hands. Her shoulder muscles rippling with exertion.

Tav's mouth fell open at the sight and sensation. Even with the full strength of her thighs, Karlach split her like cleaved wood.

Karlach turned and pinned her thighs open between her own, sitting on her pelvis.

"Hah!... Hey, why'd you stop?"

Tav's eyes darted down to the position they were pushed into.

Karlach paused, looking down as well.

"Oh..."

Neither moved, both huffing with exertion.

A stand still, the air charged with tension. Thighs straddled criss cross, their centers pressed together.

Tav tried not to moan, just the heat coming from her core pulling slick from her.

All it would take is one of them moving their hips.

Karlach looked down at her with blown out eyes, a desperate hunger, near anger, pulling her face slack. One hand gripping into Tav's propped thigh, starting to rock her hips.

"Gods, this heat!" Gale exclaimed, emerging from his tent. Fanning himself with a thin tome, heading towards the water.

Karlach flipped Tav up by the hips, pulling her up into a more appropriate position kneeling next to her. Tav squeaked, being manhandled so easily sending another wave of arousal to her lust dumb mind.

Gale turned towards them, unaware. "Oh! Are you guys coming too? I wouldn't mind the company on the walk."

"Absolutely!" Karlach called, giving Tav a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

"Oh! Uh, yeah! I'd love to hear about that." She pointed to the tome he was holding.

Rising to feet, led by Karlach's hand. Another shock of arousal as she stared at the mesmerizing sight, curled around hers with its diabolically implicit fingernails.

Gods above and below help her.

Gale chattered excitedly ahead as they walked, and Tav was really trying to listen. Truly, she was. But Karlach was walking just behind her, a hand flat against her lower back. The spread of fingers absurd, so wide it made her knees weak. Thumb rubbing mind numbing arcs into the sensitive skin.

Through the haze of her lust she managed a few well timed sounds of affirmation, trying to focus on silly things like words.

Oh, what fresh hells had she unleashed. Feeling Karlach's wide smile behind her. Enjoying tormenting her so innocently. Wanting to swat her away and lean in as hard as possible at the same time.

After an eternity, they reached the water. The gentle swell and lapping mockingly peaceful, moon ribboned and dark. Their companions gathered, floating conversation and passing wine.

Gale sat on the dock, rolling his sleep pants up to the calf. Dipping legs in with a deep sigh.

"Not getting in, Gale?" Karlach remarked in gentle disappointment. Fingers slipping inside of Tav's waistband behind her.

Tav breathed out a fast breath through nose, stomping her foot just slightly. Sliding the movement into shifting her weight casually.

"Ah, too much skin for present company." He smiled, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Eyes darting to Tav, then quickly away.

"But don't let me discourage you. Go on, enjoy the water in all it's glory."

"Well, what do you think, Tav?" Karlach asked in a deceptively neutral voice.

As she was about to respond, Karlach pulled her fingers taut into her waistband, snapping it against her lower back. Covering the sound with a cough.

A rush of wetness pooling in her underclothes, she hissed out a quiet threat. Karlach's fingers grazing her skin, a quivering of contained laughter in the chest she stepped back into.

"I think that's a great idea. If you'll pardon us Gale?"

She didn't wait to get his response, pulling Karlach in her wake. Her low laugh slipping out as she was led, Tav in a fast stomp, Karlach in an easy wide stride. Long legs not having to rush at all to keep up.

Tav was about to turn to lay into her when a wide hand caught around the front of her throat. Another pushing flat against her lower belly. Both burning hot.

Her breath caught, leaning head back as those fingers splayed up her neck. Sharp talons pressing into the underside of her jaw.

"I wasn't done back there." Her voice all gravel. Pressing the words into the side of her head, heat pressing into her back. The expanse of muscle a heavy presence behind her.

Tav whimpered, twisting to look behind them to gauge how close they were to the group.

"Nothing important back there, baby." She laughed, pulling Tav's chin forward with a force belieing her easy words.

"Gods, Tav," She sighed, voice all heat again. Fingers sliding down the front of her waistband, long fingers traveling a short distance quickly. "I've been so hungry to fuck you."

Tav moaned a little whine at the vulgarity, knees buckling in earnest. Karlach's own knee pushed into hers, forcing her down into an open kneel. Her large body enveloping behind, thighs encircling around hers.

Her fingers strained against the fabric for a few seconds before she huffed out a frustrated breath. Hands gripping up onto Tav's hips, pulling her up onto her belly, wrenching her leggings down onto her knees, then seating her back onto knees with barely an effort.

"There, that's better." She said decidedly. Tav delirious with lust from being handled like a five pound weight.

Karlach's fingers found her center again with a happy hum. Rounded fingertips pushing inside her with no further pretense. Tav bucking at the sudden introduction.

Karlach's other hand came back up to spread along her throat, pressing down just hard enough to make her moan. Long fingers thrusting slow thigh shaking pleasure into her. Her hips rocking into the hilt of her palm.

"Fuck, you're so tight around my fingers." Karlach hissed, rising on one knee to grind into her lower back.

Tav arched her ass into her in time, her hand and hips pulsing a rhythm into her. Gasping out staggered breaths.

"Take your top off for me." Karlach murmured, unwilling to give up her hold. Fingers tightening a wide cage into her neck.

Tav pulled her blouse open with fast fingers, pooling onto her elbows. Unclapsing the front of her bra, breasts falling free. Her hard nipples pebbling even more rigid. The combination of the sweltering night air and the fire at her back making her feel untethered.

Karlach's grinding sped up at the sight, sucking in a breath through teeth. Fingers picking up the pace a few moments later, taking a second to catch up to her hips.

Fingers now slamming into her, Tav's legs gave out, head falling back. Squeaking out fast indignant whines.

"Shhh..." Karlach urged, hand coming up from her throat to muffle over her mouth. Pulling her head back into her. "We're far, but not that far."

Tav's nails dug into her thighs, Karlach groaning quietly against her back. Tav's eyes rising into her skull, lids fluttering. Her cunt clenching in irregular pulses as her orgasm circled, drawing ever closer.

She murmured against Karlach's hand and she released slightly, fingers still plunging into her in lewd squelching.

"What was that?" She whispered, voice as sweet as her hands were rough.

"Choke me again, please."

Karlach's cunt ground into her so hard it pushed her forward. Her hand snapping back down around her throat, pulling her back flush in a sharp grip.

"Fuck yes." Karlach breathed, feeling the tremor coming from her core, pelvis bucking uncontrolled. "Give it to me, baby. Cum all over me."

Tav whimpered, cunt chasing her fingers with abandon. Her moans silenced in her throat. Head falling back, orgasm about to crest.

Karlach looked down into her eyes, pulling her jaw open further with her thumb. Licking up the inside of her lower lip with a groan.

That wrenched the orgasm from her far faster than she was ready for, her cry cut off abruptly into a hiss by Karlach's tightening fingers. Loosening as she enveloped her mouth in a muffling kiss. Tav gripped the back of her head and the curve of her horn desperately as it ripped through her. Cunt tightening down in visible pulls of her fingers, cum pushing out onto her palm with every thrust.

Karlach moaned against her mouth, the heat of her lips reigniting the hunger in her belly. Her body overstimulated all the same she whimpered against her, fast fingers still plunging.

"Just one more for me, baby. You're so pretty when you cum." Karlach urged, thumb rubbing hard circles into her cum slick clit.

Tav whined, buckling forward.

"Back." Karlach growled, fisting her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her flush once again.

"Yes, saer." Tav moaned.

"Fuck, call me that again." Karlach groaned, hips bucking hard into her back. Hand winding in a taut circle, pulling her hair back to her knuckles.

Tav moaned, a ragdoll to her demanding, in both body and words. Crying out as her second orgasm hit.

"Cum on my back- please, saer!"

Karlach shuddered against her, biting down hard into her shoulder to muffle herself. Her sharp teeth sending a shock of pain through her already unbearably high pleasure. Tav's nails curving with bruising intensity into her thigh, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. The second wave of slick pushing into the first, dripping down Karlachs wrist. A spreading wet against her lower back as Karlach's hips slowed into choppy pulses.

"Fuck..." She slid her fingers free, veiled in a thick layer of pulling arousal. Spreading it between her two fingers indulgently, making Tav blush despite the absolutely lewd behavior she just displayed.

"Karlach..." She whined, uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay." She chuckled. Popping the fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean with a thorough tongue. As if that was any better.

When her mouth opened again, Tav caught sight of something that made her cunt ache again.

"Karlach, why do you have a tongue piercing?" She whined, finding the whole situation extremely unfair.

"Huh? Oh, I hadn't realized you hadn't seen it! Though maybe you're usually not at an angle where you can, you tiny thing."

Karlach stuck it out flat, the small rounded stud displayed in the middle of her long pointed tongue.

Tav moaned, cupping her face and licking a line up the middle. The little smooth bump sending a renewed shock through her exhausted pelvis.

Karlach groaned, eyes fluttering up then returning to hers dark again.

"Careful soldier," She warned. "You're going to burn us both up."

~

[dorianpavus]

Panel from Hell Info Roundup

We got a release teaser trailer!

CHARACTER CREATION/CUSTOMIZATION

Character creation got a revamp! More efforts were made to explain things to someone who hasn’t played D&D before, or one who hasn’t played other Larian games. Classes now also have unique animations when you select them.

Choice options now have a corresponding icon, so you can see what you’re selecting.

There are more available faces to choose from.

Dragonborn and half-orcs are playable at launch.

Warlocks are now able to call on their patron for insight and advice.

New sliders have been added for Maturity (adding wrinkles), Freckle Quantity (and intensity), and Vitiligo Pigmentation.

Horn Customization! Now you can change their color and tip color.

There are scar options.

More hair and beard options! As well as more options for hair colors (including greying) to have tri-colored hair.

Strong/buff body types added!

Piercing options have been added.

Heterochromia option has been added.

Dragonborn can customize their face, crest, chins, and jaws. Skin color options include metallic, almost duo-chrome shades. For white dragonborns, there are also pearlescent effects. Dragonborn Draconic Bloodline sorcerers will get a unique scale pattern that changes color based on your ancestry.

There is also a selection for genitals, which they did not elaborate on, but was selected as ‘default.’

You will meet a character that will allow you to reset your class and respec your abilities.

The team went back from Act 1-3 to make the game more reactive to your choices. If you’re playing something odd or unique, the game should react to it.

THE DARK URGE

They are the new Origin Character, and they are avatar-only; they can only be played by you, not recruited.

You can fully customize their race and class.

They do not know who they are; they are waking up, and the only thing they know is “the bile of their liver, the gushing of their blood, and their ruined body telling them: you’re going to kill and kill again.” They are meant to be a dark counterpoint to the story.

Has unique scenes and storylines unlike anything else we’ve seen thus far.

They have dark impulses and thoughts that tempt them; you can play as embracing it or trying to resist.

At 4:36:55, we have some gameplay of them from early on in Act 1.

KARLACH

She is an Origin Character, and you can recruit her or play as her.

Born and raised in Baldur’s Gate, was sold to slavery in the Hells, and managed to break free. She has an infernal engine for a heart.

She’s a barbarian who has a special rage animation/effect.

Curses a lot.

At 5:20:00, there’s a bit of extended gameplay and one of her romance scenes.

OTHER/MISC COMPANIONS

Many of the companions are good-aligned, including Karlach, Halsin, Minsc, and Jaheira. For evil companions, there is Minthara, who you can recruit in Act 2 depending on your choices.

Wyll has gotten a complete overhaul. Much of his dialogue has been rewritten, and he “can go in two directions” much earlier in the story. He wants to kill Karlach at the beginning of the game, and how that unfolds is up to you. 

If you kill your companions, you can hire Hirelings. There are twelve (one for each of the classes), and you can customize and respec them.

Companions will join your camp and be able to come with you along your journey; you don’t have to choose between them, but can swap them out as you see fit. If anyone leaves or isn’t able to be recruited, it will be by your own choices or the narrative.

When you’re playing as an Origin Character, you’re not a mystery to yourself. You’ll get unique scenes and information that you may not otherwise get with them as your companion. For instance, when you go to sleep, you might have nightmares about your past.

A scene relevant to Astarion’s backstory was shown at 4:25:57.

ROMANCE

They tried to show “two people genuinely struggling through a hard time and supporting one another. And you’re not going to be the same person in Act 1 as you are in Act 3. Neither is your partner. Your relationship is going to have to grow along with the game’s story.” 

At 4:46:10, they have a video where they discuss this and show scenes from the romances. 

How you treat your companions will be reflected in how they treat you. Whether they want to be in a relationship with you, whether they leave your party, or even try to kill you -- all depends on your choices. 

“Sometimes it’s actually better to have an argument, and challenge your partner about their way of thinking.”

Some characters will happily share romantic partners with polyamory; some of them won’t.

Characters may have very different romantic endings based on what happens during the game and how you treat them or what you did with them. There’s not just one scene that’s the same for all playthroughs.

You can still romance people on “evil” playthroughs, so long as you play your cards right.

Mature content warning! There is a romance scene between Astarion and Halsin that the audience helped select at 5:32:49. Wowza. Worth getting banned from TikTok? 

COMBAT

Multiplayer is up to four people, with split screen. 

There are 3 difficulty modes: explorer (or easy), default, and tactician (hard). Tactician mode gives enemies base buffs, but also hand-crafted difficulty increases to encounters. 

The “brutal AI” from tactician mode is supposed to feel like a DM that is pushing you to your limits, which manifests in ways like attacking your squishier characters, or trying to break casters’ concentration.

At 5:44:28, there’s a video showcase on the Monk class. Two minutes later, at 5:46:13, there’s some combat gameplay showing off monks and the different difficulty modes.

STORY AND CINEMATICS

At 6:00:40, there’s a video showcasing cinematics, with various clips from the game featured (lots of enemies/creatures shown). 

They estimate that running through the main story will take about 80 hours, but it can go multiple times that length if you actually take your time and explore. 

174 hours of cinematics doesn’t mean you’ll see all of them; it’s more that there’s so many permutations and reflections of the choices that you made, that you might not even see them all even if you play this game over and over again.

MISC

When you go to camp, you are now able to wear “camp clothes” rather than your armor, which can be toggled on and off. You can find various clothes in the world, and apply dyes to them. You can wear them outside of camp if you want to as well. 

Cloaks are added.

The devs prefer not to think of this being a story told to you, but rather a story they are telling with you. Though there are many themes, trust is a big one: who you can trust, why you can trust them, and why the world should trust you as well.

There’s an unboxing of the Collector’s Edition at 6:14:26.

There is a very heavy spoiler chunk of gameplay from Act 2, starting at 6:20:42, which closes out the stream!

[thiriann]

Days of hedonistic debauchery- Ch. 1

You can also find me on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1.9k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: Named Tav , Near Death Experiences, Riding, Vaginal Sex, Protective Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Established Relationship

Prompt:

"fuck, we survived"-sex

Note:

A collection of short stories depicting Thiriann and Astarion as they engage in the most hedonistic, tender, loving and consensual debauchery of their lives. A part of the 12 Days of Kinkmas 2024 BG3 Smut challenge created by ShandoraTheExplorer .

Summary:

With a single, effortless motion, he swept her into his lap. Thiriann responded with equal fervor, bracing one hand against the metal wall by his head and tangling the other in his hair. She kissed him everywhere she could reach – his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Butterfly kisses that quickly escalated into a desperate hunger as he captured her mouth again, his tongue plunging inside. He tasted more blood there, and the horror of it, combined with his desire, drove him to pull her closer. He felt her heart pounding against his chest, a wild rhythm that he imagined his own would have if it still beat.

Just as he moved to claim her neck, a cough broke the spell. Wyll, looking distinctly uncomfortable, cleared his throat.

Astarion scrambled up the ladder, his boots clattering against the metal as the vile screeches of the sea monsters echoed behind him. He'd made it. Somehow, he'd made it. The warm light of the submarine felt like a sanctuary, and he drew in a ragged breath of relief. The vessel was packed – rows and rows of prisoners, gnomes, humans, his companions. All except one. Panic surged through him as he frantically scanned the faces, but Thiriann was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” he demanded, turning to Wyll, his voice tight with worry.

“She hasn't returned yet. We thought she was with you.”

“We can’t stay any longer!” the captain interjected, his voice rising in alarm. “The prison’s about to blow, and we along with it!”

"We can't just leave her here!" Astarion hissed. "I’m going back. Do not go anywhere!"

He leaped down the hatch, ignoring the ladder. The impact jarred through him, his knee taking the brunt of the landing. A sharp sting shot up his leg, but he pushed through it. Water already swirled around his knees, the prison flooding rapidly. His eyes darted around, searching for any sign of her. Then, he saw it – a flash of bright blue light followed by Thiriann's angry swearing. He raced towards the source, finding her surrounded by a wall of ice, several dead Sahuagin hunters bobbing nearby.

“Darling, we need to go, now!” he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her towards him.

“Astarion, wait! My leg is caught in a net!”

“Damn it!” He unsheathed his dagger and knelt beside her, cutting the ropes swift as an arrow. An explosion rocked the prison from above, muffled by the roar of the sirens.

"Hells!" he swore as the water around him splashed. He glanced back to see another sea monster crumpling under the impact of Thiriann's ice magic. Removing the last of the net he stood up grabbing her by the arm again.

“Can you walk?” he urged.

She took a tentative step, wincing. “I don’t think so. Wait.” She began to cast a spell. “Hold onto me.”

He pressed her close, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. A blinding flash of light erupted, and the world seemed to tear apart, revealing a swirling vortex of pure energy. Thiriann pushed them both through, and Astarion braced himself for the impact. But there was none. When he opened his eyes, they were back in the submarine, and Thiriann was shouting orders at the captain to step on it.The vessel lurched forward, throwing both of them against the back wall. They tumbled to the floor, their limbs still entangled. Finally, they looked at each other. Both were sweating, panting, Astarion's hair a complete mess, and Thiriann's top was covered in a slime she refused to identify.

She let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. “I can't believe…” she began, but her words were cut off by a pair of strong hands cupping her face, pulling her into a searing kiss.

She tasted of salt and blood, not all of it hers.It only fueled the fire within him. His lips moved against hers fiercely, devouring her surprised gasps. His heart was still caught in his throat, adrenaline surging through him. The fear, the elation, the sheer madness of it all – it was intoxicating. The urge to possess her was overwhelming. With a single, effortless motion, he swept her into his lap. Thiriann responded with equal fervor, bracing one hand against the metal wall by his head and tangling the other in his hair. She kissed him everywhere she could reach – his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. Butterfly kisses that quickly escalated into a desperate hunger as he captured her mouth again, his tongue plunging inside. He tasted more blood there, and the horror of it, combined with his desire, drove him to pull her closer. He felt her heart pounding against his chest, a wild rhythm that he imagined his own would have if it still beat.

Just as he moved to claim her neck, a cough broke the spell. Wyll, looking distinctly uncomfortable, cleared his throat. The thick fog of desire dissipated, sobering them both a fraction and leaving a sharp sense of self-awareness. They turned to look at him, and Astarion growled in annoyance. The low rumble sent a shiver down Thiriann's spine, flooding her with heat. She yearned to kiss him again, to press herself shamelessly against the undeniable hardness beneath her until they were both breathless. But one look at the people around them, all pointedly looking away, discouraged her from any such notions.

"Sorry, Wyll," she mumbled, reluctantly sliding off Astarion’s lap and sitting beside him.

A part of her felt like they were youths chastised by their professor and couldn't help but smile at the image.

Astarion let her go, though the loss of her warmth left a gaping void within him. A restless energy still thrummed beneath his skin, drawing him back to her like a powerful magnet. The rest of the submarine ride was mercifully short, and with the last prisoner gone, he pulled her back into his lap, needing to feel her close again.

“Astarion, what-”she began, but her words were once again lost beneath his hungry kiss.

He held her close, his arms a tight embrace.

"I want to feel you," he murmured against her mouth. "All of you."

Heat bloomed in her belly at his words, and she responded immediately, just as hungry for him, tongue licking into his mouth and meeting his in a heated dance.

She broke away to glance at the now firmly closed latch. Astarion took the opportunity, his lips tracing the delicate curve of her neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin there. A shiver ran through her, and she arched slightly into him.

"We'll have to be quick," she moaned, her voice a breathy surrender.

"That is regrettably guaranteed, my dear," he chuckled, the sound low and predatory, knowing it wouldn’t take long for either of them. His hands moved over her, urgent and searching, driven by a whirlwind of desire. Astarion kissed her with a hunger Thiriann had rarely seen. It was as if her taste, her scent, were his only lifeline, and he was desperate to consume every breath she took. She let him, yielding the intensity of his touch, her fingers tangling in his hair. His hands slid up her thighs, cupping her full ass in his palms, kneading the soft flesh. He pushed her skirt higher, revealing the smooth, silky skin beneath.

Astarion’s mind went blank as Thiriann rolled her hips against his member through his slacks. Her heat radiated through him, inviting and tempting and he couldn’t stop his hips from bucking against the pressure, a needy groan escaping his throat. She did it again and again bringing more of the delicious friction that verged on painful as his pants tightened around him even further.

Impatiently he pushed her underwear aside, fingers teasing her entrance, dipping just slightly inside. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, her breath quickening. At the same time, she unlaced his pants and freed him, his erection springing free. She lifted herself above him, teasingly gliding his cock along her wetness making him groan, his patience wearing thin with each agonizing second. He'd intended to at least try to be gentle but she had other plans. With one swift movement she sank down, taking him fully.

“Hells!” he hissed, biting his lip hard to stifle the groan that threatened to tear from him. A raw, guttural sob escaped his chest, a sound of pure, unbridled pleasure.

Thiriann pulled him closer, into another all-consuming kiss, a welcome distraction as her muscles slowly relaxed around him. Her thighs tightened around his hips, wordlessly urging him to move, and so he did, with vigor. Putting one hand behind for leverage he began thrusting up into her, his movements a forceful, rhythmic pounding.

She bounced on his lap, establishing a fast, steady rhythm. Astarion gripped her tightly with the hand still on her ass, his fingers digging into her skin as he lost himself in the sensation. The metal floor scraped against Thiriann’s knees, but she didn't care, not when he was staring up at her in wonder, cheeks flushed with whatever blood he'd managed to , and mouth parted, a sheen of her saliva glistening along his lower lip.

The vessel swayed violently with their movements, water crashing against its hull. It was undoubtedly obvious what they were doing, but he couldn’t care less. At that moment, there was nothing but them.

The world had narrowed down to the taste of her mouth, the feel of her body against his and the raw, primal pleasure that consumed him. He thrust harder, angling his hips with a desperate need to find that spot within her, to carry them both to the precipice. Thiriann’s back arched, a low moan rumbling from her throat as he found it, his movements becoming precise and driven. Tremors ran through her, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tightened impossibly around him, nearing her own bliss. Astarion gripped her waist, urging her to meet his thrusts as they chased their peak.

It was embarrassingly quick. Astarion’s hips faltered, his orgasm taking them both by surprise. A strangled, pleasure-filled cry escaped him, awakening something primal inside her. She rode him into oblivion, her heat trying to draw every last sensation from him as his body quaked and shuddered beneath her. Waves of pleasure crashed over him in relentless succession, each one more intense than the last. He cried out again, his voice hoarse, his fingers digging into her back as if trying to anchor himself to her amidst the storm. She felt the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her belly, a spring wound to its breaking point.

With a final, deep thrust, she felt the world tilt, her own climax erupting in a cascade of pure sensation. Every nerve ending in her body sang as a torrent of ecstasy pulsed through her, leaving her breathless and clinging to him. Finally, the fog cleared, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He slumped against her, his skin clammy and slick with sweat and seawater. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of her skin, still warm and flushed. A moment of quiet passed, broken only by their ragged breaths and the gentle rocking of the submarine. He lifted his head, meeting her gaze. Her eyes were soft, a gentle smile playing on her lips. She brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, her fingers lingering on his cheek.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his voice rough.

Thiriann nodded, her smile widening. “More than alright,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Me too,” he admitted, a rare sincerity in his voice. He felt a profound sense of contentment, a quiet joy that settled deep within him.

She stood up eventually, and he noticed a stray droplet of blood drip down her knee. His eyes softened as he leaned to her, tracing it with his tongue before kissing over the scrape. The tenderness of the gesture made her chest squeeze, emotion swelling within. She helped him stand up on his shaky legs. His muscles trembled, the ache in his bones threatening to pull him back down. She laced their arms together, both leaning on each other for support. "Come on." She said kissing his cheek "Let's get back to camp."

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! 😊

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[istoleyoursk1n]

WAIT WAIT HERES ONE! All companions drunk off their asses in a karaoke session while Tav is the only sober one😭

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

Tav being sober while all the other companions are drunk off their asses in a karaoke session

(I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS HELP HAHAHA)

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: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

Says he's only there for the drinks and to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves.

Ends up being part of the people who are being absolute fools of themselves.

He’s the type to say “oh I can’t siNg” only to grab the mic out of your hands and start balling out the lyrics of Bad Romance like it's nobody’s business.

He’s tame at first, enjoying himself as he watches the shitshow unfold but four drinks in and he’s already hoarding the microphone.

I like to think he somehow becomes better at singing the drunker he gets.

Accidentally hits high notes and he makes it everyone's problem.

Probably slapped someone by accident when they were trying to get the microphone back from his drunken ass.

He becomes far more expressive and loud the more he drinks which only makes it all the more fun to be honest.

Tried to have a sing-off with Wyll. Somehow ends up with Astarion threatening to bite him.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

Very confused.

He came here for bonding time with friends only to be surrounded by feral drunks.

He’s definitely not the one singing but Astarion kept giving him wine and he kept drinking and now he’s halfway into either drunk crying or drunk ranting.

He’s the type to start talking about his ex again once drunk.

Had a very informative conversation with the wall.

Fell asleep for about five seconds only to be woken up by the sound of loud screaming into the microphone wonderful singing.

He likes suggesting songs for the group to sing but he's not even including himself in said singing. The least he does is clap his hands.

Remember when I said he’d either drunk cry or drunk rant? Guess what, he’s doing both now and either Halsin or you are trying their damn best to support him.

Try to ask him what he's crying about and he wouldn't even know what the fuck he’s crying about. Proceeds to give you a long instructive speech about the importance of how one pronounces certain spells. (He accidentally activated said spell too).

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

He drank exactly one bottle of alcohol and called it quits. He’s practically as sober as you right now.

The most tame of the group by far but he hardly has any complaints about the chaos, he's having so much fun!

If Astarion isn't hoarding the microphone, he’s the one singing and he’s really good at it. This man can sing and he figured now would be the best time to finally show it.

He’s being as humble as he can but you can tell he’s putting in more effort than he should for a drunken karaoke party.

This man is literally singing each song as if he’s performing his own concert. Ten songs in and somehow his voice box still hasn't given out.

Started having a sing-off with Astarion and he could hardly take it seriously. He wasn’t even drunk but he kept laughing and when he laughs Astarion laughs and they both ended up becoming a mess.

He and Astarion were probably the ones bickering over who’d get to hold the microphone.

However, he always ends up giving the microphone to both because of his gentlemanly ways and this man can't say no to Astarion even if his life fucking depended on it.

HE SANG AN ENTIRE MUSICAL SOUNDTRACK.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

SCREAMING INTO THE MICROPHONE.

Don’t ever give her the damn microphone or pick any goddamn song less you want your ears to bleed.

She loves metal/rock songs way too much and she will death metal scream every single word as if she was being dragged back down to the pits of hell.

She’s drunk off her ass as well and it gets worse because she keeps finishing people’s left over drinks.

She’s so unbelievably hyper when she's drunk and in a festive mood that during the whole karaoke session, she broke the damn table.

She laughed so hard right after that for a moment she forgot to fucking breath.

She constantly has to stand up and move about or dance to the music because she just has so much energy in her right now. It's damn well impressive how she somehow never tires.

The thing is, her laugh is contagious so when she starts laughing someone else probably starts laughing as well and it all becomes an even bigger disaster.

Broke the doorknob on her way to head out and grab more drinks.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

Didn't want to be there.

Everyone was so loud and obnoxious that it was honestly a tad bit annoying for her. She could have been doing something far more productive and instead-

Never mind that, now she's having a drinking contest with Shadowheart in the midst of all the screaming and singing.

Where did the shot glasses go?! Oh, its with her.

Suddenly, taking multiple shots of alcohol will help improve her tolerance to an array of different substances that may pose a threat to her bodily autonomy. That’s an excuse, she just doesn't want to seem unproductive.

Not the one singing at all but she keeps finishing the bottles before anyone else can even get a taste of them.

Surprisingly, she has a really high alcohol tolerance. She’d probably be 10 shots in and still appear as sober as you.

Though, please take the liquor away from her as soon as possible. When she actually gets drunk two things happen. She either becomes more aggressive than she ever was before or even worse, she becomes nicer.

Amidst it all, you may see a snicker or two come out of her, one that she’d be trying so hard to hide. Truth be told, she would have grown to love her chaotic bunch of weirdo friends and she wouldn't have regretted a thing.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

Actually one of the people singing! When Astarion and Wyll aren't battling it out over the microphone of course.

Depending on her current mood, she's either going all out on Mitski songs or rocking it out with Karlach.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Washing Machine Heart.

Before she could sing another song, she was ever so quickly pulled into a drinking match with Lae’zel in which the winner was undetermined; because Karlach broke the damn table with the shot glasses on it.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Bring Me To Life, part 2.

When she gets really drunk she either becomes louder or eerily quiet.

She’ll just quietly sit in the corner and watch and sometimes it's just the creepiest thing ever.

But in the cases where she does get loud, she’s off laughing her ass off over the chaos unfolding right before her eyes. She would have been talking shit along with Astarion if it weren't for the fact that he was quite literally having a wrestling match with Wyll over the microphone.

Probably fell asleep after a while and somehow never woke up until the next day.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

Very confused 2.0.

He tries to refrain from drinking as much as possible because he knows just how embarrassing he becomes so he kind of just smiles and sits there during the first half.

Besides he really doesn't want to burden you with having to be the only sober person in the party.

The least he’d be doing is very subtly dancing to the beat. Do you know how dads would do those little awkward dances during parties? Exactly that.

Either you, Shadowheart, or Astarion coaxed him into finally drinking and things began to go downhill from there.

The thing is, when he drinks, he can drink a lot, it's just that he prefers not to. However, the real reason he can drink a lot is that he forgets to set a limit for himself especially when his mind is so scattered.

Became oddly clingy towards you in ways that you’d never expect. Suddenly he’s blurting out random things he feels about you and the others in the most wholesome way imaginable.

If it isn't you, he’s confessing his “”undying love”” to the first person he sees.

Stared at a plant for five minutes.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

[miraculan-draws]

Have we talked about how Ravengard is the coolest fucking last name ever. Have we talked about how metal it is. Wyll with a Y RAVENGARD. emo as hell. I love it. I'm gonna draw him in my fall out boy shirt.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Fingers Sifting Black Earth 1 - That Awkward Moment When

Happy Yuletide, motherfuckers! Next story's up.

On AO3.

It is important for me to be down on my knees, my fingers sifting the black earth, making those things grow which will grow. —Ann Struthers, Planting the Sand Cherry

So you’re in hell. The air scorches the back of your throat and your pits are beyond dank. Your new (relatively) tunic clings to your back beneath your new (also relatively) drow armor, and your tit region is a full blown swamp.

Even Astarion, famously undead, shines with sweat.

“Everyone present and accounted for?” Gale says. Poor man is more soaked-through than you. Turns out wizard robes, without cooling enchantments which he’s short of at the moment, ain’t all that good for running around a magical forge embedded in a mother fucking lava lake.

“Let’s just get out of here,” Shadowheart says. She at least got a sweet, new set of armor outta that forge.

Lae’zel sways, and then glares when you notice. You don’t say nothing.

Only Karlach stays chipper. She’s waiting over with Wyll next to the big ass lever. On Gale’s nod, they manage to kick and shove the creaky bitch down. The metal platform y’all stand on groans. Jolts. You expect, for a pants-shitting moment, for the fucker to crack in half and drop y’all onto that lake. You read somewhere that people don’t actually sink into lave, like that volcano movie. Cause it’s melted rock with the same density. It’s a lot more like dropping a square of cold butter onto a hot-ass, stainless steel pan. Lots of sizzling and skittering around as the water in the body boils off. Course, you’re dead before you hit, since the superheated air sears shut the lungs—

Everybody’s staring at you. Wyll grimaces.

Oops. You’re all up in the brainworm group chat with that one.

“Sorry,” you say.

“That’s pretty accurate, actually,” Karlach says.

To which Wyll turns his horrified look to her. She just shrugs.

The platform shudders. Wheezes. Screams a little. And then starts to rise. All in one piece.

You sigh and slump. Let your head fall back to try to keep breathing the oven-hot air. You grew up in Oklahoma-sticky, been caught out in one-hundred-thirteen degrees with ninety percent humidity and northerners are always surprised when you tell that that yes, you can actually sweat on the backs of your hands.

Ain’t none of that compares to this hellscape. Literally.

Eventually, the first drafts of cooler air brush your cheeks. You’re beyond things like modesty right now, so you loosen the sides of your armor—thank you Gale for the perfect-fit enchantment—enough you can flap your tunic and try to relieve some of the tiddy sweat.

Catch Astarion watching you with one eyebrow quirked.

You try not to think about that just now.

It’s been a helluva few days. Fresh off escaping a drow hunting party, y’all ran into a group of duergar slavers working a bunch of gnomes half to death to free some Absolute cultist piece of shit. They’re all dead, now. Between them gnomes, the cave buffalo, and all y’all, you’re pretty sure every slaver got ganked.

Astarion…

He really does not fucking care about other people. Not even people in a position a lot like his own. You met others like that. You were others like that for a while. But when he made that “joke” (cause it ain’t never actually a joke) about “motivating the staff” (and by that he meant “torturing defenseless people”) you cold-shouldered him. Hard.

He’s been slinking around your peripherals ever since.

You wipe the sweat from your face as best you can. Which mostly means smearing it around.

It ain’t right to let him carry on like that and treat it like it’s fine. It ain’t. And you’re pretty sure he knows that—you try hard not to think of him as a dog tiptoeing around after getting yelled at. Especially since this dog seems way more used to kicks than words. But you ain’t sure what you should do about it. If you should. Because…you care about the stupid shit. And then you think you shouldn’t because the man has screaming red flags. But…but so did you. When Sasha first tried to talk to you, you went full, flaming Testimony on her.

But she didn’t give up. She saw something in you. The part you would later find in the root cellar, covered in sticky pear juice, staring down at a piece of shattered glass. All the talk you ever heard—the books, the podcasts, anything you could listen to before it got too much and your chest got too tight to breathe and you was right back there again—says that bringing people outta shit like that is work. It takes time. Patience.

If it can be done. If the person ain’t too far gone.

If your sorry ass can possibly navigate the fucking minefield you’re starting to realize that man is.

Fuck.

At least y’all found explosives. Lots of them. Including a giant fucking barrel of something called “rune powder” that y’all sorta stole that made all them other gnomes real fucking nervous about. You’re gonna find whatever controls the cult and the fucking brainworms, and you’re gonna paint “fuck you” on the side of that barrel before you have Karlach—or Lae’zel, actually—chuck it right at their face. There’s an easy answer for one of your problems (ninety-nine problems and that man is one).

The rest of the group is run fucking ragged right now. Between all the murder and the coups y’all have initiated, between the fight with that murderfuck Absolutist and the giant fuck off robot at the forge, y’all can probably sleep for a collective week.

Astarion is still watching you.

Shadowheart raises an eyebrow for you to catch. Turns out stepping off a boat with your neck fucking purpled from hickeys tends to tip off everybody that you was fooling around with that goblin of a vampire man. Elf. Shithead.

You look away.

You just don’t know. He kissed you and you liked it. You liked the whole fingerbanging, too. Like, a lot. Then he ain’t letting you talk to him about it, then suggested you two do it again, then goes off to be a fuckhead racist and then y’all almost got squashed by the iron giant.

And now he’s sidling up to you just as you’re starting to savor the suggestion of cooler air on your skin.

“Hello, darling,” he says.

Okay, fine, he’s stupid handsome. You actually see it now, despite the granny hair (fine, it adds to his “bisexually hot” vibes). Now he’s all sweaty, and that’s gross, but the gross part of your brain fucking perks up anyway.

“Hi, Astarion,” you say.

The elevator rattles and clanks around you. Y’all are lifting up through a shaft cut so smooth, you’d think it had to be made with either water, or modern Earth drilling equipment.

Probably fucking magic. Fucking Middle Narnia.

The magma glow has receded, and now the only light comes from Karlach’s thrumming hellfire heart engine and the tiny flames dancing through her hair and on the tips of her nails. And from Shadowheart’s glowing face-smashing mace that Astarion stole, which then obliterated a whole ass Githyanki creche.

It’s enough to give the illusion of privacy.

“You know, I can’t help but feel we’ve grown somewhat…distant, the last few days,” Astarion says.

“We been kinda busy,” you say.

He hums. Shifts beside you. Then he leans in, his breath cool as it tickles the hairs on your neck. “We never did find an answer to my question, either.”

You know damn well what he’s talking about. Sidling up next to you in that dead temple. Leaning in as he’s doing now, his scent washing over you, voice low and silky in your ear when he asked “your tent or mine.”

“Huh,” you say. Like a smart person.

You got no idea what you’re doing. No idea what you should be doing. You are stumbling around in an unfamiliar, pitch-black room, half drunk, tits swinging, banging into every goddamn piece of furniture in there.

“So,” Astarion says. Leans so close he could kiss your cheek if he moved another inch.

Seems he wants that answer.

What are y’all? What is this? A one-time fling after surviving some bullshit? Stress relief? A new hobby?

You ain’t never done this before. Certainly not with someone like him. Don’t know the rules. You…you’re scared. If you ask him, if you question this or press him for any of the thoughts in your head, he’ll spook.

And deep down (maybe not so deep), you’re a greedy little shit yourself. A whole childhood denied things like cellphones and internet, like steady meals and safety and any kind of privacy and not getting publicly switched in your underwear. And then coming out of that and the group homes, the food stamps, the public health insurance and barely scraping by until so, so recently.

When you got kidnapped by a squidward alien and dropped without so much as a stitch of clothing (but with a fucking dildo, jesus) into another dimension.

You want something nice. Just for once. Just without having to think about the shoulds or should-nots. The morals and the risk and being able to fucking afford it.

This is a terrible fucking idea. Maybe you really are a weak piece of shit. Because you turn to look at him. In the dim glow of y’all’s companions, his eyes reflect a predator’s shine: two copper pennies glowing in the gloom.

You gotta figure all this shit out. Sort the mess in your head. Maybe after y’all find this cult shit and throw a bomb at it and the brainworms is gone.

Astarion is a bitch and an asshole. He makes you laugh. He stabbed a man like eight times for you, and goddamnit, kissing him feels like it paints your skin in electricity.

God ain’t real and neither is sin. And if sin ain’t real, then there’s no reason to feel shame or guilt about engaging in consensual tomfoolery.

Right?

You clear your throat. “We can, uh. Mine. I guess.”

Jesus.

His fangs is shockingly white when he grins. He brushes the tip of his nose against your cheek. “Excellent. I can’t wait.”

“Aww,” Karlach coos.

Right as Shadowheart says, “Do try to remember we can all hear you.”

You jerk away so fast you almost trip right off the edge of the magic fucking elevator. Which they all saw, and which makes you consider hurling yourself off on purpose just so you don’t have to deal with any of this.

Until a faint sound bounces down the shaft at y’all.

Shadowheart lifts her face. Squints. “Is that a dog?”

[not-playable-character]

Since the game said Raphael smells like roses and cherries ( and Sulphur, but im assuming that's just hell scent), I came up with some ideas on what the party could smell like cuz im weird.

Shadowheart: orchids and lime (lime is canon too)

Lae’zel: metal and almonds (which is apparently what space smells like)

Wyll: wood smoke and pine/fir

Halsin: honeysuckle and tobacco

Gale: parchment and tea (according to Tim Downie (gale himself), its sandalwood and woodsmoke)

Astarion: red wine and wintergreen (some soft mint) and an undertone of blood (Apparently its canon bergamot, brandy, and rosemary, thanks for letting me know (: )

Karlach: smores and honey (just warmth and chocolate)

Jaheira: Magnolia and rain

Minsc: oud and musk

Minthara: earth and coffee

Mizora: jasmine and sandalwood

[bloodlust-1]

༻ 3 Nights ༺ part 8

Gortash x fem Tav —mini series Explicit 18+

Summary: Gortash invites Tav to stay 3 days at his palace for the sake of an alliance. Reluctantly, she compromises for peace and it becomes an experience they won’t forget.

Part one -> here <-

Tav reached out for a drink from the waiter, smiling to faces familiar and unfamiliar as she limped barely in a dress.

Tav’s never been stabbed so deeply, and it was a feeling she never felt before. A sharp burning, yet then a warmth all over the body. It was strange, and she was lucky to have some of the best healers around. She could’ve died in battle. But here Tav was instead, in a beautiful red dress, limping at a party dedicated to the hero’s of Baldur’s Gate.

She took big sips and allowed the burn of the alcohol sit in her stomach. It eased the pain away from the otherwise throbbing stab wound on her side.

After defeating the netherbrain, Tav’s group returned back to the palace, victorious and hailed as heroes by the people. The once dark and menacing palace was now filled with light and joy as the citizens celebrated their newfound freedom. Gortash ordered a grand ball to be prepared, inviting all the leaders of neighboring kingdoms to join in the celebration.

Tav wrinkled her eyes, trying to keep an eased expression on her face. She downed her drink before cleaning her composure at the sight of a familiar face.

It was Gortash, surprisingly groomed in a classy black embroidered jacket. He looked incredibly handsome.

“I didn’t expect you to be here. I’m glad you could make it.” His broad shoulders seemed to hover over Tav’s body, and despite his intimidating aura Gortash softened his gaze at her.

His eyes narrowed in a relief expression, “Your side...Does it hurt?”

“Like hell.” Tav scuffed with a chuckle, “I’m a special guest, I couldn’t miss this.”

~ 3 Weeks Before The Ball

The emperor Twisted his dagger deep into Tav on the battlefield. The sheer anger dug so deep from betrayal and Tav fell back onto the floor. Of course, this was because they had free’d Orpheus.

Shadowheart quickly called upon their trusted ally Isobel for healing. And Isobel wasted no time in tending to Tav's wounds.

Isobel's healing magic flowed through Tav's body, easing her pain and giving her the strength to push through. It was a grueling process, but Tav gritted her teeth and held on, determined to survive the betrayal and emerge victorious.

Everyone pulled out every skill they knew to defeat the Netherbrain. It was one hell of a fight and at the end of it all, they found themselves at the city's docks; staring out onto the ocean. The dragons flew across the sky and Tav felt the overwhelming happiness blur her eyes.

However the pain slowly started to seep back into her bones. Tav let out a painful cry, feeling the sharp sting of her wound. The metallic taste of blood filled Tav's mouth as she collapsed onto her knees, her once pristine armor was now drenched in crimson. She gritted her teeth, trying to fight through the pain, but it was too much. Her body was wilting, and she could feel her strength slipping away.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she heard Wyll's voice calling out to her. She turned her head to see him rushing towards her, his expression filled with worry and fear. He grabbed her trembling body, trying to offer some form of support.

Tav's eyes drifted upwards, fixated on the bright blue sky. It seemed so peaceful and serene, a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that surrounded her.

But even as she lay there, weak and injured, more faces filled her vision. There was Halsin, Shadowheart, Karlach, and then Enver. They all appeared before her, their voices blending together in a blur. Tav tried to keep track, but her body was failing her. And as the darkness began to creep in at the edges of her vision, she knew she couldn't hold on any longer.

It was like Tav was falling into a black abyss, every little word or noise echoed all around her and memories flashed before her eyes.

Tav gasped.

Her body sweated and drenched her clothes as she laid in a bed, around her was littered with medical supplies and potions.

“Tav! Thanks, gods you’re okay.” Shadowheart poked her head into the bedroom. Shadowheart ran over and placed a cool rag over Tav’s forehead. “It got real bad for a second there…That damn Emporer,” she admitted as sadness washed over Shadowheart's eyes.

“I -“ Tav winced loudly cutting her words off as she tried to sit up, “Don’t even remember getting here.”

Tav rubbed her eyes and blinked aimlessly, "Where's everyone..?"

"Well... Karlach and Wyll left together to Avernus, Halsin returned home as did Gale, Lae'zel left with Orpheus, and Astarion is probably hiding in the darkest corner right now."

The crown was returned to Mystra. Gortash quickly realized that his actions would only lead to chaos and death and that his best course of action was to step back and allow Mystra to resume her rightful place to destroy the evil magic.

It was instinctive, to choose survival, and strategic to keep power.

"Oh.." There was a sadness that stung in Tav's chest. It was over. Everyone she called 'friend' was returning to their lives or starting a new one.

“Tav!” A voice startled her eyes opened and it was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, you…” Tav half smiled through the sharp pain, "Not the prettiest view, I know." She joked shallowly.

Gortash rushed into the room, his heart pounding in fear as he saw Tav lying in the bed, pale with messy hair. He did not waste time planting a passionate kiss on her lips.

"I don't care about that," he said, taking a seat on the bed's edge. "You were drenched in blood, and your skin went pale, I thought maybe it would be the last time I saw you." His voice became low.

Gortash gently took Tav's hand, relieved to feel a weak squeeze in return. "I would much rather see you like this, than like that," His broad frame hovered over Tav's body. "I am just grateful that you are still alive."

He didn't care that Shadowheart was there, with a surprised look on her face from his sudden softness.

"Well - this adventure has shown me lots of surprises. This is certainly one of them." Shadowheart crossed her arms with a knowing smile. She nodded quietly at Tav before leaving them to their privacy.

"I'm happy you came." Tav gently rested her free hand on his injured one, "Thank you."

His expression turned to confusion and disbelief as he processed the words Tav had just spoken. "You're thanking me?" he asked, his lips frowning and his head shaking. "But why? I would have died without you. It was your trust in me, despite your objectively foolish choice, that saved my life."

Tav's naivety and trust led her to place her faith in Gortash, despite all logical reasoning. And yet, it was also this same trait that had allowed Tav to take a leap of faith and ultimately save his life.

Gortash sighed, "And I am forever grateful for - your stupidity." It was a statement filled with sincerity and appreciation; even if he sucked at it with words.

Tav rolled her eyes playfully, "You're horrible with gratitude, but you're welcome, Enver."

Gortash's eyes softened as his name left Tav's lips. He brought her hands to his face and kissed the bruised skin.

"I suppose you still want me to become part of your court...Im not sure if -"

"No. I cannot engage in any business discussions when you are like this." He lowered her hands and gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze. Gortash looked into Tav's eyes, relieved that she was even alive, he knew that nothing else mattered at that moment. Gortash was grateful for her safety and well-being, and he could not bring himself to discuss anything else until she was in a better state.

~Back to the present

"Indeed, you are special." Gortash held out his arm inviting her and Tav hooked her arms around his. She limped a little less as he held some weight off her feet.

Some guests turned their heads in interest, silently wondering about the nature of their relationship. As they made their way through the room, Tav noticed the various reactions. Some wore surprised expressions, others showed jealousy, while some seemed completely baffled.

Tav felt her face flush with a hint of embarrassment, and she wondered what was going through their minds. Tav couldn't blame them for being curious, but it still made her feel uncomfortable.

It was a strange feeling. Tav was sent to kill Gortash and release the city from his binds and treachery. She betrayed herself, and maybe some of her companions but she couldn't explain the way Gortash went soft for her. Only her. Maybe with better influence, he could really thrive, despite his horrible demeanor.

But Gortash remained unfazed, confidently leading her through the room. His nonchalant attitude added to the mystery surrounding their relationship. And he could feel Tav's hold become tighter.

Gortash looked down at her and nudged his head, "Uncomfortable, my dear? Let us get some privacy."

Tav's eyebrows curved up in a softened expression. Thank Gods.

Gortash guided Tav away from the loud and chaotic room, filled with loud music and prying eyes. As they distanced themselves from the overwhelming atmosphere, he lifted her gently into his arms. Tav couldn't keep up with his fast steps. He pitied her.

Gortash carried Tav onto the balcony and was greeted by a stunning view of the garden. The lush greenery and colorful flowers filled the air with a sweet, floral scent.

Tav carefully sank her footing until her feet were firmly planted on the balcony floor. She then leaned over the railing, taking in the beauty of the garden. Gortash soon joined her, propping his elbows on the balcony and admiring the scenery beside her. They stood in silence, mesmerized.

"There is so much in this world I can offer to it." He stared off onto the night sky, "I've been cheated of my life many times, and every time I have prevailed." His head slowly turned to Tav's side, "That must mean something?"

"Of course. You were meant to be here. You are an inventor at heart but I wished you would be more...ethical in your work."

Gortash scuffed as a smirk played on his lips, "Life is unfair, isn't it."

Tav's expression shifted as she scrunched her lips to the side and furrowed her brows in a pout, "Life is what you make of it."

"Not everyone is an optimistic hero that goes and swooping down to save anyone." He paused, his voice firm and unwavering, "I didn't have you. I didn't have a choice. But I refused to be a mere pawn in the hands of a devil. I made a conscious decision to rise above my circumstances and become something more. I made me."

He continued, "A forgotten child. A slave. A follower. A tyrant."

Tav tilted her head with a pang of sadness. Without hesitation, she extended her hand toward him, "While this may be your reality, remember that you still have the power to decide your future," she said gently. "You can choose a different path."

"It's more complicated than that, Tav."

"Then -" She leaned her head on his shoulder, "Let us figure it out together."

"Like I said: Optimistic hero." He closed his eyes and smiled sarcastically, "I don't know if I should hate or admire it."

"You don't have to understand." Tav nudged her head against his arm, "Some things are not meant to understand, but you would be lucky too one day, I hope."

"You know, people say I have magical foresight" Tav teased him.

"No one says that- "

"How would you know, you're practically a princess locked away in her tower."

Gortash laughed at Tav's sassiness, finding her wit and boldness amusing.

The moment went silent around them as they enjoyed each other's company. The ballroom's music crept into the air, and Gortash then stepped away from the balcony and held out his hand, "A dance, little hero?"

"O-Ohh noo, Enever, I'm not much of a dancer." Tav playfully waved her hands back and forth while shaking her head and wearing a wide grin.

He shrugged, "Neither am I."

Tempting. Tav softened her smile as her heart jumped out of her chest. She hesitantly took Gortash's hand in hers and he pulled her body closer.

His hand fell at Tav's waist. Without thinking, he began to sway from side to side, moving in a small waltz-like motion. Gortash wanted to take things slow, not wanting to hurt her stab wound in any way.

Plus, It helped him mask his horrible dancing.

Tav's foot accidentally stepped on his toes, and she was mortified with embarrassment.

Gortash chuckled to himself. It wasn't serious, Tav was just as lacking as he was. Despite being messy, sloppy, and dysfunctional, their dance became smoother eventually, with their feet perfectly in sync.

Tav rested her head on Gortash's shoulder, her hand on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as they danced.

As the song came to an end, Tav lifted her head and looked into Gortash's eyes. She smiled and gently placed her hand on his face, running her thumb over his cheek.

Gortash exhaled and leaned into her touch. "You look beautiful tonight, Tav," he said, his deep voice filled with admiration.

Tav blushed and looked down, her red dress swaying with their movements. "Thank you," she said softly, feeling her heart flutter at his words.

"It's my favorite color on you," Gortash continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "You always look stunning, but there's something about you in red that's so alluring."

Gortash leaned down and captured Tav's lips in a gentle kiss. It was a soft, sweet kiss that sent shivers down her spine.

His hands moved to her shoulders, holding her firmly as he deepened the kiss. Tav's heart raced and she felt his lips move against hers, their bodies still swaying to the music.

His tongue crept into Tav's mouth and intertwined with hers. Gortash savored the taste of her lips, which he had been longing for ever since they last had sex.

When they pulled away, Tav's eyes met Gortash's, and she could see the lust in his eyes. He held her face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks.

"So what will it be now, between us?" His voice fell low, and Tav could've sworn she felt the nervousness exude from him. His gaze became increasingly cold, almost like he was preparing himself for the worst.

"Whatever you want it to be," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Their breaths mingled in the air.

"I want you."

Tav gently placed her hand over his, intertwining their fingers as she spoke, "Then you'll have me."

"But let's take this slow - I want to get to know you more outside these damn walls." Tav stifled a small laugh and met Gortash's eyes, waiting to see how he would react.

Gortash gently nodded his head, a small smile forming on his lips and his eyes welcoming. He agreed and reached out and traced Tav's lips with his thumb, his touch gentle and tender.

"I will do my best to make you happy and protect you at all costs."

They continued to dance on the balcony, lost in each other's embrace and the magic of the moment. The music faded into the background as they kissed and held each other, not knowing what this 'love' was. But they were damn well going to find out together.

As the stars twinkled above them, Gortash leaned in and kissed Tav softly, sealing their newfound alliance and love for each other. And in that moment, they knew that they were meant to rule together, side by side.

~The End

T - T Aw, this was my first every mini-series, and ah<3 It's time to move on.. This was fun to imagine in my room late at night just typing like a madman.. Definitely not my last series! I'm currently writing another Gortash x durge Tav called Blood Bond and requests :'))))

But I hope everyone enjoyed and for those who stuck around, Much appreciated :*<3

[invinciblerodent]

a short and very incomplete list of some items that make me, a bisexual, unable to pay attention to whatever the fuck the characters are saying

The Potent Robe (and all the other robes in this style) on Gale. they make his shoulders go V. especially from a shorter PC's angle, where he looks tall and broad in addition to being just. so warm and infinitely kind, I mean come on now. Honorable mention to the jewel sitting right on top of his sternum and the intricate linework leading to it that just draws the eye to itself, so you kinda have to look at his titties.

The silly stupid useless hats that should not look good on anyone, but make Astarion's li'l ears go < >, and it's unreasonably good, especially when he like. looks up from under the brim and under his lashes like that???? no. this man? this man is wearing a be-tassel'd bucket on his head. how is he still charming. this should not work and he has no right to be charming like this.

The otherwise pretty ugly helmets that do nothing special beyond like adding +1 to STR saves and don't work on anyone really, except they Fuck Severely on Wyll, and Wyll only. this one? with his horns? it makes him look like some sort of gladiator, a wrathful Roman god of war and conquest, and what the fuck. i know just how polite and respectful he is, and the cognitive dissonance alone makes this weirdly hot.

This camp outfit. With these piercings. And this snarl. On Karlach, because seriously what the hell. No, really. What is this. She, and I cannot stress this enough, looks like every single woman I've ever fallen briefly in desperate, heart-consuming, life-altering love with at any rock/metal show, only red and on fire, which is. also hot. Look at the way the lines of that top frame the glow of the engine, and the metal accents match her vents and hair disk thingies, I mean come on. This look is that of a woman who could (and should) whisk me away on her motorcycle.

Ketheric's armor on Lae'zel. The shape language. The way the ridges of the teeth and the gold bit in the middle kind of mirror the edges of her ears. And the way the dark neckline meets and bleeds into the lines on her neck, and mirrors the lines on her face. The tarnished gold accents that match her complexion with the green complementing it so nicely. The power. The beauty. What a great look. A+. i'm doing whatever she says I should, which is a problem because she's literally asking me to make a deal with a devil.

honestly just disrespectful, the lot of them

[not-a-space-alien]

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Chapter 5

Story Masterpost In this chapter:

👉 AO3👈

Chapter 5 only has warnings for Astarion-centered angst.

If you would like updates, please request to be on the taglist and I will tag you when I post a new chapter!

***

Their previous discussion about Cazador being easier to face than Mephistopheles weighed heavily on them.  Karlach and Wyll had been battling all sorts of devils, but Mephistopheles himself?

Really?

Surely there must be something else they could do, right?

Gale decided to stick around for a while, thank the gods–Karlach didn’t know what she would do if he left.  He was the only one who knew about magic stuff.  Wyll certainly knew more than Karlach, but only practical stuff.  Gale was the one who knew about soul coins and whatnot.

So Gale resigned himself to fiddling with magical trinkets and waiting around with Wyll and Karlach in Avernus for a while.  It wasn’t his preferred accommodations, but he’d been on the road before and was enjoying the excitement of being in the action again.

Karlach, meanwhile, found one of the boiling lakes that littered the Hells and got some hot water, dumping it into a bath for herself.  She stuck her head in the water and let out her muffled scream into bubbles, then set about actually rinsing herself off.  She was covered in soot and ash.

She might have burned herself out if Wyll hadn’t stopped her.  She was getting better at listening to him recently, because he was getting better at telling what she needed.

Wyll poked his head around the rock, saw Karlach was indecent, and covered his eyes.  “Gale is going to try something, so come join us when you're ready.  We’re hoping it might provide some avenues of action.”

Karlach sighed, going limp in the tub.  “All right.”

She singed her towel only a little bit drying off, but the thing was full of holes and practically a rag already to begin with.  Most of the water evaporated off her anyway.  She carelessly dressed herself and headed back to the nook where the boys were.

Gale was kneeling on the ground with a lot of magical-looking rubbish scattered around.  “Ah, there you are.  I think I've rigged up a device that will let us have a two-way conversation with hi.”m

“Oh, really?”  Karlach perked up immediately, tail swishing.  “We’ll get to do more than hear his disembodied thoughts?”

“If my calculations are correct, yes, it should allow us to communicate with a disembodied soul the likes of which are in soul coins.  It’s basically a conduit that allows us both access to a modified version of the spell Sending.  Fascinating stuff, if you–I can tell by the way you're looking at me you want me to get on with it.  Yes, right.”

Karlach produced Astarion’s soul coin and handed it to Gale very carefully.  Gale went back to his setup and started rigging things up, wires tortured into elaborate shapes and clamps made of metal and runes carved into stones.  He clipped Astarion into the contraption, securing the coin with four clips that looked like the maw of some beasts.  “Now as soon as I activate it, he should be able to hear us.”

“Gale, I could kiss your little wizard head.”  Karlach knelt next to him.  “Gods, I've missed you.”

Wyll knelt on the other side.  “Your expertise is reassuring, I'll admit.”

Gale beamed.  “It's just so fascinating to–right, sorry, sorry.  Ahem ahem.”  He stood, crossed his hands over the device, and said the mystic words for the spell.

His hair flew back with a slight wind, and the coin started to glow faint red.  Astarion's voice faded in, pitifully calling out: “Karlach?  Wyll?  Shadowheart?”

“Astarion!” Karlach shouted.  She leaned over the device, as though she wanted to pick up the coin but knew better.  “Astarion, we're here!”

There was a very long pause, so long that Karlach started to think she'd messed up the device somehow.

Then, Astarion's voice came back.  “Gods, you actually answered that time?  Am I losing it?  What's happening?”

“No!” Karlach said.  “No, no, you're not!  We're really here, Astarion, I promise.  We're going to help you!”

“You're really here?”

“Yes!  Me and Wyll and Gale.”

Another pause.  Then Astarion's voice came back, boiling with rage.  “Fuck you!  You said you would help me!  I save the goddamn world and who saves me?  Nobody!  Not even my supposed bloody fucking friends who-”

“I'm sorry, Astarion, I really am-”

“I don't bloody fucking care how sorry you are!  I'd count myself lucky if I never saw your stupid, ugly face again-”

Gale pulled the wires off the coin, silencing it.

“No!” Karlach said.  “No, no, put it back!”

“Gale can do that,” Wyll said cautiously, “after you take a second to calm yourself.”

Karlach put a hand to her face and suddenly realized she'd been crying, and her engine giving off waves of heat.  “Right.”  She steadied her breathing.  “Right, sorry.”  She wiped her face.  “I'm calm.  I'll be calm.  Go ahead.”

Gale reconnected the wires.  Astarion's voice was now completely different, sobbing desperately.  “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.  Don't leave me alone, please, not alone in the dark-”

“It's okay,” Karlach rushed to say.  “It's okay, we're here.”

“Then help me!”

“We're going to, don't worry.”

“Let me out of here!  Now!”

“Okay, do you know how-”

Astarion’s coin let out an increasingly panicked warble.  “Let me out let me out let me out, I can't stand another second in here!”

“Astarion, can you hear us?” Wyll said.  “Breathe.  Calm down.  You're safe.”

Surely the coin couldn't breathe, but the sound of Astarion hyperventilating came next.  “Then let me out!”

“Do you know how?” Karlach asked.  “Gods, I want to, Fangs, I just don't know how.”

“What do you mean, how?  Just unlock the– open the– whatever it is I'm trapped in!”

“Gods,” Wyll said.  “He doesn’t know.”

“Allow me to illuminate,” Gale said.

Wyll butted in.  “Let me do it, if you please.”

“Wyll?” Astarion said with mounting dread.  “What's going on?  Where are we?”

“We're in the Hells.  I'm so, so sorry my friend.  You're trapped in a soul coin.”

“A what?”

“We tried to help you.  We looked for you.  We did.  We had no idea you were here, or we would have come sooner.”

Astarion let out a choked sob.  “Am I a valuable denomination, at least?”

Wyll smiled, tears pooling in his eyes.  “Yes, you're worth the most out of any coin on the plane.”

***

Gale said the conversation with Astarion had given him some ideas that didn’t involve trying to have a pleasant chat with Mephistopheles, so he promised he’d start some research and be back soon.  Wyll closed the portal behind him, then said they should get some sleep.

Karlach agreed, except she couldn't fall asleep.  How could she, when Astarion was so desperate to not be left alone?  Luckily Gale had agreed to leave him here, after much debate among the group. 

She kept the coin connected to the device by her pillow, curled up around it.  “I'm sorry, Fangs,” she said softly.  “I would have helped you if I hadn't been in the process of imploding at that exact moment.  Honest.”

The Coinstarion let out a sigh.  “It just feels like some cosmic entity hates me and wants to see me suffer.  I'm selfish and evil, I get punished. Then I go through a brilliant arc of personal growth and decide to walk the right path, play hero, and save the world, and the only thing it earned me is more punishment.”

Karlach’s tail twitched.  “Damn if I don't know what that feels like.”

“Yes, I suppose… imploding, you say?”

“Yeah.  I suppose you might not have seen it, running from the sun and all.”

“I did hear it.”

“Yeah?”

“Sounded awful.”

“Felt awful, too.”

“Well, I am glad you didn't die.  After all, then there'd be no one to rescue me.”

Karlach chuckled.

“It–it does make it less unbearable in here.  Talking to you.”

“I'm glad.”  Karlach rolled over, staring up at the craggy rock above her.  “I’m sorry, Fangs.  I know I’ve said it a million times, but I really am.  I hope you know I feel so horrible about this whole situation.  I would never let something like this happen to you on purpose.  I’m going to do my damndest to help you.  So you just hang in there until I can make that happen, yeah?”

“All right,” Astarion said.  “It’s not like I have much choice.  I’m not going anywhere.”

Karlach’s ears pricked up.  “Hold on.”  The sound of clattering metal approaching.  “Wyll, wake up!  We’ve got company!”  She stood and grabbed her axe, then paused to look back at the coin on the ground hesitantly.

“What?  What’s wrong?” Astarion said.  “Are we under attack?”

“Yeah, and I bet I know what they’re after.  The precious loot we just nabbed.”  Karlach grabbed the bag of soul coins and slung it over her shoulder, nice and safe next to her, then reached down to undo the clips keeping Astarion’s coin in the device.  “I have a fight to get to.”

“Wait, wait, you’re not going to use me to power your engine are you?”

Karlach winced as she accidentally disconnected the coin from Gale’s elaborate setup before she had the time to answer, but it was too late to try and figure out how to put it back in: heavy footsteps sounded outside the camp.

Karlach tucked Astarion’s coin into the bag and tightened it on her waist.  Beside her, Wyll scrambled to get upright and ready with his rapier.  “Cambions, with a horde of mephits by the sound of it.”

Karlach hated fighting mephits.  They were skinny little things that were more annoying than anything; they could barely hurt you, and there were always a billion of them when all she wanted was a good old fashioned beatdown on some baddie, not to swat away flies.  “You start on the mephits!  I’ll handle the cambions.”

She scrambled up the rock to see two of Zariel’s favorite cambions.  Sure, she could take two cambions at once.  No big deal.

No big deal she kept telling herself, as they wailed on her and beat her down.  She’d dealt with far worse.

“Return the coins!” one of them hissed.  “You ignorant imbecile!”

“No!”  Karlach twisted to avoid a swipe that would have hit the coin pouch.  “Fuck off!”

Her engine roared into overdrive to power the furious swings of her axe.  She could really use a soul coin right now, to give her a boost, to knock these two the fuck back.  She snarled at them, enraged.

This was the point at which she would have used a soul coin in the past.  She would have just popped one to fire herself up without a second thought.  To mow down the baddies.  She’d done it dozens of times.

She was having second thoughts now, though.  And third and fourth thoughts.

There were seven of them.  She could use one, right?

No, the risk of accidentally grabbing Astarion’s coin and burning it up was too great, no matter how closely she read the numbers.

But why would it be okay if it wasn't him?

Because Astarion was hers.  Her friend.

But any of the other spawn could have been, too. If they'd been randomly grabbed onto that Nautiloid instead.  If Astarion has been unluckier.

But they weren't.  They weren't Astarion.  With his pointy face.  Fangs.  They weren't him.  And he was hers.

That was the only difference.  He could have very easily been not hers, and she would have burnt him up without a second thought, without ever hearing him crying out for help.

She’d been making excuses about the soul coins, them already being dead and gone, might as well put them to good use, and it was crumbling in her hands.

She cried out in pain as one of the cambions raked her with its claws.  She was getting sloppy, arguing with herself over it.  She needed to beat them.  She reached into the coin pouch, brushed her fingers against a coin, thought better of it and took her hand back out again.

A second hit from the same cambion tore the bag, scattering the coins and sending them rolling all over the floor of Avernus.

“No!” Karlach yelled.  She cut down the cambion, then sent it flying with a savage kick.  She rocketed over to the second one, which had started gathering the fallen coins.  “Get your hands OFF HIM!”

She kicked the cambion square in the face, knocking the coins out of its hands and sending them tinkling back onto the floor.  A few more swings of her axe decapitated it, then she stormed back over and stomped through the skull of the second one.

She got down on her knees and started snatching the coins back into her hands.  “Astarion?  I’m coming, baby, stay by Mama K, I got you.”  Four, one, six… She plucked up another one and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was number three.  “Oh, thank the Gods.”

Wyll hobbled over the ridge, looking singed and bloodied.  “How did you fare?”

“Fine,” Karlach said, breaths shaky, still preoccupied.  She spotted another coin and picked it up, her hands considerably less frantic now.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care about Astarion’s siblings.  She did, she wouldn’t leave them there.

Just…Just that number three was her Astarion, and she’d promised to help him.  “I think I broke Gale’s doohickey.  Think another field trip might be in order?”

[lilyslemonadestand]

if i could protect him. ( part one. )

↯ . . astarion x durge!

summary. reader has these dark urges to kill someone in her sleep. it happened when she killed the tiefling bard, and now it's wanting her to kill astarion.

warnings. violence, mentions of gore, blood, brief talk about sex.

word count. 2,700+

notes. erm first part of three! repost because my comment about naked halsin blew up and this got burried. i'm still learning how tumblr works. anyways. please leave critiques and comments hehe. reblogs appreciated. <3

CHAPTER ONE.

After killing that poor Tiefling Bard at the Druid party, you hadn’t slept. She was such a bright, young girl, dedicating her life and bravery to your cause. And you killed, no, massacred her without even being aware. You still felt her blood stain your skin and the feeling of rubbing your hands raw. Nothing hurt as much as the hot scorching pain in your head did. And then the wave of pure satisfaction you felt afterwards. You were, disgustingly, proud of your handiwork, and your body ached for the time that you kill again. The scent of metal filled your waking thoughts, and the image of her beautiful corpse left you awake at night. You were a danger to everyone, and you didn’t know what would happen if you left yourself alone. 

Astarion usually was awake at this time, being a night owl like you. You hadn’t dared to tell him about what happened, or these urges that you couldn’t control. At best, he’d leave your group and never see you again. At worst, you’d kill him, or he’d be afraid of you and ram his dagger into your gut. Even the idea of your own corpse was intoxicating to you. Tonight, Astarion fell asleep rather quickly. You knew he was exhausted all day, from the way he wasn’t whining while fighting, and how he didn’t even say anything after arriving at camp. You didn’t blame him; today was draining. 

You were the first to fall asleep, embarrassingly enough, the gentle hum of conversation enough to lull you to sleep. Between Karlach’s laugh and Wyll telling a story to the group, it made you feel safe. You even fell asleep with a smile on your lips, something very different from your usual serious gaze. 

Maybe that was a mistake, feeling safe for once. Because as soon as you fell asleep, the scenery around you changed. You were back at that night. You knew you were. It felt like you weren’t in control of your feet, as you dragged yourself to the sleeping Alfira. There was a knife in your hand - How in the Hell’s did that get there? - and the insatiable hunger in your stomach. You tried to rip your thoughts away from killing her, knowing these thoughts weren’t okay. But you carried through with the act, dragging the knife from her heart to her stomach. She didn’t even wake up, or scream. The first stab inspired many more, stabbing her a total of ten times before you finally got a grip of your own thoughts. A panic rang through you when you stopped. 

“I’m sorry,” You cried, your hands shaking and eventually dropping the knife to the ground with a clang. Your hands were bright red, and you knew her blood was all over your face, blinding your sight. “I’m so sorry.” The feeling of nausea washed over you, trying not to throw up all over the corpse. Then, thank god, the scene faded to black once more.

You fluttered your eyes open, the familiar headache still ringing in your head. It felt like your tadpole could sense your anxiety. Your hand graciously reached to wipe away the tears forming in the corner of your eyes that you didn’t know were there. It was so tiring having these thoughts, but today felt different. Stronger. You looked quickly around the camp, your hand grabbing at your chest as your breath quickened. It was just a dream, you thought. Darkness had fallen around your camp and if it wasn’t for the dying of the embers of the fire, you wouldn’t be able to see anything. You looked around at your sleeping friends. Gale was snoring quite loudly, and as much as you wanted to suffocate him with a pillow, it was helping you ground yourself. This wasn’t a dream. You’re safe now. 

You looked at Astarion for longer than everyone else, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept. He looked so peaceful when he slept, white curls cascading over the right side of his face. Maybe he looked serene because he wasn’t making any snarky comments. Or maybe it was the way he slept with his legs curled into his chest. He looked oddly cramped even though he had as much space in the world right now. Centuries of sleeping in an all too small coffin would do that to a person. Astarion had fallen asleep facing you, something he’d never done, like he made sure you were safely asleep before allowing himself to. Apparently, you must have been tossing and turning in your nightmare, because his blanket was placed over your form. 

There was a crunch of a branch being stepped on behind you, and your head quickly swiveled to look at it. That god awful demon of a butler was following you. When he’d first appeared, you’d tried so hard to rack your brain and remember him, but you’d forgotten, along with all of your other memories. Anytime you saw him, someone died. 

“Hello Mistress. Said I’d be back!” His voice was more like a screech, and you had an urge to kick him across your camp. Wouldn’t be too hard. You smiled as you thought about this. Possibly the first normal urge you’d had all night.

That smile fell quickly into a sharp glare. “I’m quite sure I told you to go to hell and never come back.” You whispered, making sure not to wake Astarion.

“Well! I’ve noticed you’ve taken a liking to that pretty vampire!” Your whole body shifted into confusion.

“What?” You exclaimed, looking at Astarion with mock disgust. “The elf that talks too much? Nope. No. Absolutely not.” But your body was shifting in front of him protectively, your eyes like sharp daggers at the Butler. “Are you stalking me?”

He didn’t answer your question, squirming around more than your tadpole did. “If you don’t like him, then you’ll have no issue killing him!” The Butler giggled, a shrill thing that made your head throb. 

You looked shocked, trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t thought about anything like that before. The first time you’d met Astarion, you’d thought about it. The crimson blood stained his pretty pale skin. The look of his beautiful corpse. The way his eyes would match the color of his own blood on your knife. You snapped your thoughts out of these urges, and looked back at the sleeping elf. It wouldn’t hurt him, right? It’d just be like Alfira. He was so pretty, it was a shame that he had to die with his eyes closed. Maybe you could wake him, watch as his eyes widen when he sees your knife, right before dragging it across his neck. That’d be what he deserves for taking your blood, hm?

The thoughts disappeared just as quickly as they came, your hands tugging at your hair to keep you sane. The Butler giggled again and you wanted to kill him. Unfortunately, you knew he’d be helpful in remembering your past.

“Someone will be dead by tonight — no matter your choice. You can kill him now, or you will later. Eventually, you won’t be able to resist.” Butler's voice echoed. “I can see it in your eyes. Killing that Tiefling felt good, didn’t it?”

You didn’t answer him. “And what if I don’t? Are you going to?” 

“Of course not, Ma’am! I wouldn’t take that pleasure from you.” His words made your nose scrunch in disgust. Pleasure certainly wasn’t the right word. Torture, maybe. Your hands reached for the hilt of your knife. “I can see that he’s more than a pretty face to you. Did you know that he’s terrified of you? That’s a hindrance. Just kill him now.”

Terrified of you? No, no, that couldn’t be true. No way. Your face paled as you thought about that. Butler was right. Astarion looked at you differently than all of the other companion’s. Maybe it was fear. Maybe that’s why he refused to fall asleep before you. To make sure you don’t hurt anyone in your sleep. The thought made your stomach sick. Before you could take a slash at the creature, he was gone with a blink of an eye. What the hell? If you were his master in some fucked up past life that you couldn’t remember, doesn’t that mean he’d listen to you? Once you found out who sent that twisted little shit, you’d be letting him know not so kindly that Butler was disobedient. You winced at the pain again, but this time it felt like it was behind your eyes. 

Maybe you did like Astarion more than you cared to admit, but you played it off often as some sort of trauma bond. You two had just barely delved into your romantic feelings, after drunkenly hooking up after the Tiefling party. That was the day before you killed Alfira.

Astarion wanted his feelings to stay manipulative, to perhaps use you for sex so you’d feel inclined to be loyal to him. Once he started noticing small things, like how you pick at your nails when you’re anxious, or how you’d always without fail ask him if he was alright after sex, he got a little… scared. These feelings were foreign to him and he was scared that once he got close to you, you’d leave. Just like how everyone else had.

You also had been feeling a bit used, covering your body more during intimacy and being more distant caused a rift between you two. One where neither of you were able to speak about your feelings, but you just couldn’t. If he got too close, you’d end up killing him.

The thoughts of being manipulated by Astarion made your head surge again, your brow’s narrowed at his sleeping form. Your hand desperately wanted to reach out and strangle the elf. With your head tilted to the side, you gently ran your nails across the scarred bite marks on his neck. If you killed him, he would be grateful for you. In death, he’d be free. He wouldn’t have to be a vampire spawn anymore. He wouldn’t have to worry about Cazador anymore.

“Astarion.” You whispered, and it took every goddamn muscle in your body to not pick up the knife next to your side and gut him. The control you had was fleeting. You felt so weak, crawling your way closer to him, knees barely being able to move. “Astarion, I swear to god, wake up.” Your hands were grabbing onto his shoulders, nearly shaking the life out of the poor vampire. 

His eyes opened slowly, blinking away the rest of his interrupted sleep. Astarion shot you a nasty glare. “You better have a damned good reason for—” His voice fell off at the end, looking at your panicked state. You looked crazy; your fingernails slightly digging into his shoulders, your whole body shaking, and your panicked, fear-stricken eyes. Then he saw the dagger. “Well, you’re clearly not looking for a late night cuddle.” Astarion mumbled, quickly shifting onto his forearms. Any other time his words would’ve been amusing. Not tonight.

You were unable to say anything as you tried to calm the panic that was making it hard to breathe. Astarion looked at you carefully. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me, darling.” 

“I— You’re not safe. I need to keep you safe,” Your voice was frantic, and you looked terrified. Astarion had dealt with this many times before, with himself. The desperation of needing something to come back with him so Cazador wouldn’t get angry and the flood of guilt he felt when he saw the panic in their eyes. He knew quite quickly about what this was. His hands reached for your shoulders, his grip strong. “Talk to me.” Astarion whispered once more, ruby eyes full of such patience and care that you wanted to spill your guts, admit everything. All that you remembered at least.

“I want to kill. I feel such a strong need to kill. I was going to kill—” You tried to spit out the final pieces of this puzzle, but you were disgusted and ashamed of yourself. “I was going to kill you.” 

“Me?” Astarion exhaled quickly like what you said was some funny joke. That annoyed you. “I can’t begin to imagine what I’ve done to make you want to kill me.” His hand moved to your knee, which was involuntarily pulling towards your chest. You both stayed silent for a moment and you watched as his nose scrunched, like he was figuring something out about you. When it clicked, his eyes widened. 

“You killed that tiefling, didn’t you?” He asked quickly. The ring of blood from where it had happened still stained the dirt in your camp. Wyll scrubbed at it for nearly an hour as well as cleaning the specks of blood off of Karlach’s tent, but it seemed to stain your hands in the same way that it stained your waking thoughts. Something was off about Astarion’s expression. He was smiling. Shouldn’t he be terrified of you? Baring his fangs, hand on his dagger, ready to rip your throat out? You’re giving him a dirty look without even realizing it.

He scrunches his nose at you. “Oh, don’t give me that look. I already knew that. We all do.” Astarion pauses, tapping a pale finger twice against his chin. “Besides Wyll and Karlach. Blissfully unaware.” He finally shifts to sit fully up, his knees bent and his arms resting over them. You notice a smidge of purple underneath his eyes, and part of you feels bad for waking him. Being tired is better than being dead though. 

You groaned. That meant that Lae’zel, Shadowheart and Gale knew you were a deranged freak murderer. And either they didn’t care or they were terrified of you just like everyone else. 

“I have— had— those thoughts too. Of killing. And maybe I acted on a few.” Astarion’s voice cuts you out of your thoughts, thinking about how Shadowheart would easily kill you in your sleep. He’s still sporting a lovely smile, and it makes your shoulders relax. 

“Goblins don’t count.” You murmur.

Astarion laughs this time, a pretty thing that makes you feel better. He moves closer to you. “They were definitely more than goblin’s, darling.” He swallows hard, and it looks like it’s hard for him to open up to you. Like these were things nobody had heard before, kept quiet about for centuries. His crimson eyes are softer than you’d ever seen. He opens his mouth to say something else, but he's interrupted by you wincing. 

You know you're about to hit the ground before you do. You feel his hands brush against your side’s, trying to keep you upright. A flash of light fogs your vision— red light— and then everything goes quiet. You feel peckish, before you pass out, your head hitting the group sharply. Everything fades to black, and you’re alone once more, an outsider in your own body.

[simp-ly-writes]

The City

─────── · · THE SERIES: PART TWO

PAIRING: Enver Gortash x fem!Reader, Wyll Ravengard x fem!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Across the seas you are studying to finally cement yourself as a high lady and 'worthy' of being beside the Duke's son in the publics eye. Yet as time slips through your fingers, and you have had no word from your lover- a face from the past decides to make their presence known once more after going through hell.

─ · · WARNINGS: contract marriage, child abuse, bullying, anxiety attacks flashbacks, overall angst with fluff

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,000

─ · · A/N: I have to start making chapters shorter- my computer begs me.

─────── · ·

“Anger, resentment and jealousy doesn't change the heart of others-- it only changes yours.”

 Shannon Alder

─────── · ·

When Gortash resurfaced, contract burned to the ground and an echoing voice shattered his mind with great ill intentions. He listened to the life the voices promised, that he realised he wished upon himself and strived to mould it into reality. Taking back to the Lower City and its sewers, his heart felt heavy with memories that the voices dampened with his mission they provided. 

He infiltrated the underground network, mingling with Guild, Zhentarim, and Thugs alike. He carefully observed their trade networks and studied their trade secrets as he temporarily acted under their needs before running back off with the information to the now abandoned factories on the shoreline. 

Hands running with memory, he used the metal scraps and various stolen powders to craft numerous weapons of destruction. He looked at himself in the gleaming metals, felt the various nicks and bruises across his hands from the work before turning the market on its head. Exporting his work to make numbers, he took hold of the unsuspecting and thrusted them to make his ultimate designs. 

Mere weeks into his developments, various characters of his past both from hell and sewer came back with contracts in hand and meetings to be scheduled as he charmed and dined their offerings to build himself up more. Soon enough, Enver Gortash was making lucrative business as a black market arms dealer, sending a thousand ships full of weapons and bombs to neighbouring wars without a blink towards the headlines and the various zeros that followed. 

Using this newfound income, Enver looked to legitimize his business, exploring other avenues and sectors. Combing his way back into the light, his eyes winced at the harsh sunlight casting judgement across his pale skin before shaking hands with misters and misses to dukes and duchesses alike. But with surface level interests came newfound dangers brought into light as many looked to take down the approaching tidal wave of Envers overtaking of the manufacturing scene, especially those connected to the Knights of the Shield as many attempts at his life were made over glasses of wine, the occasional bathhouse, or underground dispute. 

He looked for a bodyguard and found himself back in searching the hells like the devil himself did to him. Casting up a contract to a young tiefling named Karlach, she protected the supposed businessman with her life and fiery passion. Often casting jokes to try and catch a sliver of a smile she thought to be imagining, or the slight twitch to his eye. The facade Enver put up was perfected as his signature gilded across multiple pages and shook hands with the upper echelon of society. 

It was during one of these events that the whispering wind had caught his breath and taken his life back to an old one he thought to have forgotten long ago. He watched as a striking young woman in an equally lavish gown practically skipped down the cobbled streets, a dashing young man chasing after her, a sword swinging by his waist with every step he took. 

Your face caught him standing there in the street as you simply overlooked him and took around a corner. The young man seemingly out of breath gripping his knees as he called out your name that had Enver feeling weak himself. Gripping his hands into fists, Karlach raised a brow- this was the most emotion she had ever seen her boss possess as she quickly looked over the square for a possible association. 

“Is everything alright boss?” Karlach asked tentatively, hands beginning to reach around her back to draw a weapon as Enver began to walk forward with large strides without another word. His heart was racing, his eyes begging to cast upon your form again as he wondered if you would remember a boy like him. 

His mind then flooded as a foreign weight fell upon his right shoulder, he remembered your head falling against it during the early morning hours after you patched his hand. Next, a memory of you pulling him into the very factory he worked out of now. Sneaking around the various guards and filling your bag full for the next day where you spent all day trying to make his drawings a reality and then you were at school. Him seeing you for the first time, reading with you on the bench behind the church and holding you as the children screamed. 

When he looks down the alleyway you went down, he finds it empty- as if you were only a figment of his imagination, a ghost of an older life. He looks down to the ground, confused as he asks the voices in his mind if he had truly lost it only to receive no response. Karlach waits for him, guarding the small space as she silently understands what her boss had seemingly lost but was increasingly distracted by his sudden display of emotion. In the end, she had not readied herself for the onslaught of it as a heavy heart soon turned to anger and ultimately her destruction. 

Feeling the after waves of his own enslavement, for catching a glimpse at what could have been you and him. He was taken back to the hells from a portal supported by Helsik and struck a deal with Zariel. The Crown of Karsus for a pivotal role in the new world alongside a new product offered now that he had been working diligently on for many years now, an infernal engine- the test subject? Karlach. 

Lost in the need for his pain to be felt, he used it on the only person he was able to call a friend in the past decade they had been working alongside one another as the voices demanded it, only to mute and combine in the sound of one, Use those weak to build yourself stronger. 

Who speaks? Enver asks himself as the roaring fires and the woman's screams are left behind as he emerges from the portal once more. 

You are to be my Chosen, the voice disregards the question at first, only leaving a lingering presence in the back of his mind as he beds a red-headed lady to gain himself more notoriety in the higher circles. Weapons at their throats, hidden by words as he looked towards politics as he pulled out to finish and hastily takes himself out of the bed as the woman gasped for air, her eyes still closed in bliss before snapping to the sound of the door slamming closed. 

Enver walked outside the estate, still adjusting his long coat against his body before entering the dying streets. Walking back towards the factories, the voice revealed themselves to be Bane, the God of Tyranny and Lord of Darkness as the sun fell upon the shores. On his path he looks back to see the hill where he first met you, the marks the woman left across his back still aching as he feels bile run up his throat as he crashes into the side of a building for support. 

“Lady Jannath,” he whispers to himself, testing the name for he didn’t care to remember earlier but knowing he is not alone he asks the voice ever present. Will she see me- love me enough to hate me- to lothe me? My actions and desires?

She left you, remember chosen? You were rotting in hell as she was begging for the Duke's boy. Do not forget that you are bettering this world by rebuilding it. We have no need for the girl-

You speak in such absolutes… 

As you will learn to force them. 

─────── · ·

Enver Gortash would become a common name discussed in every home from within the gate- his popularity overshadowing any dirt to be found in the scraps he did not already erase. Bane led Gortash to acquire more power and influence within the political inner circles surrounding Baldur's Gate as he became referenced to be the future military advisor after his connections in the weapons industry. Driven by his growing ambition with the Crown of Karsus in hand, the knowledge of this artifact set in the hands of another slipped within the underground and underdark as Myrkul and Bhaal also wished to play house with the city. 

Cornered one day in his own factory, a blade thrusted in between his ribs by the Chosen of Bhaal and the barking dog of Ketheric Thorm, the Chosen of Myrkul, in his face. He was left with little room but to ensure a favorable alliance with his compliance. Showing the wicked two the power the Crown could offer within ancient Netherese texts they searched to enslave an Elder Brain to support their deities alongside their own personal desires. Splitting the crown within three Netherstones, unleashed sins were planned to swarm the coast. 

Sins plagued the man as desire soon overtook. Gortash had people keeping tabs on every moment of your life. He read upon your family's new estate, the friends you networked with, the first apprenticeship you gained under Ravengard to your training with the flaming fists before discussions of you being sent away to learn under foreign education. Rage would be too small of a word to withhold the pure fury that raged through Envers veins. 

The little boy within him crying out to see his only friend betrothed to another. A sick jealousy plagued his mind as he kept photos of your graduation, set your favorite flowers by his bedside and had even stolen your couple's portrait of you and Wyll from the Dukes estate. The son's face was ripped apart, leaving you alone on the canvas to shine beautifully with the fresh oil paints. Gortash would find himself sitting in front of you many nights as he told you his wicked plans- as if trying to gauge a reaction from your unmoving character. 

He would silently await your answer before looking at the various sculptures surrounding the room that silently judged the lord to be. And in a moment of great weakness, watching from one of the balconies of Wyrms Rock fortress as he temporarily visited as a guest. He watched your ship sail away. You running away, just as he was finally getting everything he ever wanted. In this moment of bitterness, of weakness and hurt pride; he decided to show his strength and took tadpoles to the instigators of it all. 

─────── · ·

The cobbler house was quiet on a weekend night. Oil lamps threatened to flicker out as Enver moved effortlessly under their light. Bane praised his forward thinking, of gaining the purest image from highly supportive parents- parents that would never speak down to him, beat him, torment him so horribly. These people would no longer sell him out, cast you aside. 

His mother was frozen in a silent scream as Enver gripped the woman by her long brown hair with a fist. He tilted his wrist, applying more tension to her scalp as he presented the wiggling tadpole in front of his mother. Not a smile, tilt of the eyes or breath exited Gortash as he watched the worm wiggly its way in behind her eye. She trashed and groaned, nails digging into her son's wrists as red blood dripped to the floor to show his humanity. 

His father laid there still, his insides casted upon the floor as he chanted your name in a silent prayer before Gortash calmly strided his way across the rickety old floors that creaked and groaned under his weight. He dropped his mother to the floor with no further regard, her head slamming against the warm rugs as she laid their limp. Eyes wide, breaths shallow, mind searching for answers to only curse the devil of her own son. 

His father made no protests, his fate sealed as the tadpole slithered up his neck. Gortash leaned against the countertop. His long black coat swayed slightly in the cold night air making its way through the lofty space as he watched the insertion take place, watching as both of his parents kissed his boots as he slammed the store door behind him before taking into view your boarded up storefront. 

A few books were still visible in between the planks as Envers' heart clenched in his chest. He craved the pain of feeling you- even the loss of you. It was in this pain Gortash first found his path, his deity, and yet he still prayed thankful to having met you. He wished to have you hear everything you made him realise, to have you see the perfect city of people he commanded, and he would command you to stay rather than leave. 

─────── · ·

Salty sea air wafted into your senses as you strolled across the white sand coast line. Your head was full of recalling teachings and notes you studied the night before in your dormitory. Looking up at the sun, you still had time before you were to meet with your peers at the Library. You were counting down the days to your final written exam.

Chuckling at yourself, or to the picture of self you keep in your mind. You wonder what home will look like in your return. If the same restaurants you love and remember are still in business. If your few school friends have returned from their studies as well. Some had gone off to Bards College while others chose to study among the druids or with the Society of Brilliance in the Underdark. A shiver runs across your spine at the thought of traversing such lands after you learned of the great diseases that had coated the lands. The text brings a tear to your eyes as you rubbed them in equal tiredness. 

Yet nevertheless, you would miss your fellow students, your mentors and coaches. You were one paper away from being a qualified court member and would hold enough dignity to take Wyll’s side- Wyll. Your heart echoed with a few painful aches, you wondered what he would look like now. It had been years since you had seen him as you looked down to your bare left hand, the emptiness of it holding weight as you rubbed at your ring finger, tension only growing with festering fear of what if? 

You wonderdered if the young man you had left was already holding court meetings, dancing with other young beautiful women and orchestrating deals for the city. You pondered if he still enjoyed taking walks around the garden, sneaking off into the lower city for a semblance of normality- or had the new reality already overcome that? Your mind was a storm of wild thoughts and fantasies as you bumped into your fellow students in the halls and stumbled into the library with a shy smile once realizing you were late. 

The tables were filled, nearly every seat taken as one of your classmates moved their bag for you to take its place. Books were strewn across the table, empty tea cups littered the jackets of books as you found space to open your notes and started to review while doing your best to shake your thoughts of the beach. 

─────── · ·

Darkness soon painted the skies, the room filled with candlelight as you wrote your final sentence and signed off your name. “Are you ready for the closing ball this weekend, (name)?” one of your peers asked as they helped you to pack up your belongings. Taking a pause, your books floating over your bag, you raised an eyebrow in question towards them- a silent ask for them to continue. 

“There are spokespeople coming from neighbouring continents to hire us after graduation, surely one of your professors has spoken to you about this?” they continue, eyes growing wide as you shake your head, “No, I have not but I already have work for me back at home.”

“Oh, do not tell me it is with that ‘betrothed’” your peer makes quotations around that final word as they make a big display of looking at your hand. A sad yet knowing look casting over their features. “You must know that without the ring or paper, they are merely words and just that.”

“But I do believe it to be true,” you hold strong, eyes unwavering in their own even as your voice tilts, the lack of Wylls replies to your letters over the past three years eat away at your belief as time progresses. 

“I just don’t want you to lose your future, that is all. But please, do speak to at least a couple of employers… you never know what can happen,” they grab your hand with these parting words. You can only offer a small nod before watching them leave the library as you continue to pack up your belongings. Maybe I shall talk to a couple, no harm in conversation… you think to yourself before walking back to your silent dormitory. Doing your best not to wake the other students by the creaky floors or heavy oak doors as sleep soon overcomes you. 

─────── · ·

Flowers wine themselves up every bannister and set upon every table as you make your way into the ballroom. Your paper sits safely in one of your crates already making its way back to the mainlands. Suits and Satin has your back feeling cold and missing Wylls warm touch that led you around events like this. A pleasant smile coats your face in a mask as you take a champagne flute and turn to raise it towards your headmaster. Cheers erupted throughout the room as you swallow down the liquid before settling the empty glass back upon the try. 

Music breaks the words as you stand at the refreshments table, picking away at the snacks and delicacies that sit in the shapes of animals and famous sculptures. Taking a laugh for yourself, you steal the middle finger off one of the food displays and place it on your plate as you look to find an empty table.

You watch as your classmates talk with their dance partners. A thousand ages and backgrounds fill the room as the spilling of fresh ink catches your intrigue. Your friend appeared to be correct as you watched them leave with a well dressed man towards one of the offices, a paper sealed in their hand as they cast a wide smile before exiting. Exhaling a breath, you pick at your food and observe the floral decorations at your table with false intrigue. 

Soon, overwhelming sadness finds your reflection in the various glasses sat atop the table. Wyll had not shown up, you had an understanding that he would not but the hope for a surprise was soon overshadowed by its lack of presence. A sudden hand has you startled as it presents itself in your face. A handsome young man stands before you, his smile a bit crooked by the chip in his left large tooth, yet by the well trimmed golden hair he presents and the tailored clothes across his back- he comes from a good background. 

“A dance for the lonely?” he asks, fingers stretching winder as you place your hand in his own and are hoisted up into the life of the party. Various gowns sound like waves crashing against the polished floors. The music comes crashing over every laugh and conversation as you allow your years of practice in the Ravengard ballroom to lead you through the dance. 

“Penny for your thought, my lady?” the man asks with a curious tint to his gaze but before you can reply, your partner is being switched as you spin into the arms of another. “The colour suits you,” they simply state. The lack of polish in their voice catches you off guard- the same tones that you worked hard to make your voice forget. 

You notice the long black coat they wear near the bottom signs of obvious wear and tear are sound as stitches are coming undone. Their top is hastily buttoned, their shoes dull, and their hair- your breath catches in your throat as you feel them grip your waist tighter. Your cheeks flare up with warmth upon recognition as you rack your brain for a name- Enver Gortash. 

They smile, looking down to your lips as you whisper their name. “So you do remember me,” he comments, seemingly to himself as he pulls you away to a large twirl before slamming you back into the privacy of his arms. “Of course I would remember my childhood friend,” you say back. Your head starts to feel heavy from all the memories that flood in as you press your forehead to his shoulder. 

You hear the small gasp Enver takes in, feeling the familiar weight of you on his shoulder and he has never felt such comfort. Taking one of his hands from your waist, you feel how his hand hesitates before gently stroking up and down your back. His touch has your shoulders dropping and you would not stop the smile that spreads your cheeks. A laugh of disbelief is shared between the both of you. The music eventually fades as you open your eyes once more, you go to bow, picking up your skirt but he takes your hand and drags you out of the ballroom and into the study wing. 

The hall remains empty besides the few staff that run trays to and fro. Your eyes cast upon his broad shoulders and the hair he still has not styled since his youth. His smile is genuine when he turns around and casts you a wink before holding a door for you to enter. You hesitate to turn around until the sound of a click before taking the sight of him in full. 

“You look so…” words fail to come to mind, your hands still shaking as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You struggle to feel everything in this moment as he tilts his head and raises a brow, asking you to continue with a wave of his hand. “...so old.” Your hands grasp your mouth, shock holding you still as you yell internally. His laughter fills the small room as he takes large strides over to you, pulling your hands from your face to hold between his own. 

“How you wound me,” he responds, a playful tint to his brown eyes, “and here I thought to find a beautiful and reputable young woman.” You scoff at his words, pulling your hands gently away with a shake of your head. “Alright and like we didn’t steal from half the population of Baldur’s Gate.”

“But look where it has placed you, exactly with my words…” his sentence trails off as he twirls a strand of your hair before looking outwards at the window behind you. You look at the side of his face, taking notice of the tens of scars that litter his jaw and cheeks. Your fingers brush against the raised skin, you feel him twitch away before pulling himself back to your touch, allowing you to observe. 

“Where have you been old friend?” you ask quietly, a part of you scared to know an equal part of you burning with curiosity. “Where haven't I been,” he responds coldly before remembering his company and releasing a large sigh. He leans against a desk nearest to him as you watch his movements, holding onto every word he speaks- his voice deep and captivating to your senses beyond belief. 

“When you left, my parents soon realized their mistakes. We were struggling and there was only so much a boy could carry those nights and every night the weight increased as I looked for a way out. But when I received one, it was never one I could have begun to imagine. To face such hardships, torments, and then utmost cruelty… it took hold of me in the hells-fire and I burned so much of myself in those years.”

“Enver-” you start to speak, hands looking to comfort as he settles them back at your sides. He refuses to meet your eyes as he turns to observe his shoes. Your heart aches at the sight of that young boy sitting behind you, picking away at the edges of his, or well your books. 

“I was put under contract and under lashes. I bled and bruised, I worked for my life and with the lives of others. I put souls onto paper, took notes with their blood and found a way out years later. I thought of you, on the tiled floors. I often pictured your presence, heard your voice, I searched for you in the Lower City upon return- I had never thought you would move so far or remembered you to.”

Tears stream silently down your face, guilt rises with the treats you feasted on earlier. You beat yourself for not thinking to take him with you- for not thinking over one action versus the years you spent together. “Why did you cast me away then? If I had known-”

“No.” His voice is cold, his eyes snapping to you as you feel like that small girl within the trinkets and wires once more. His mother’s voice ringing in your bones as your eyes plead for answers for a forgiveness for what you do not understand but your own humanity. Enver continues, “You got the better family, the better spoils, you deserve the better life. I could not take that from you- even at times a part of me wished I did. Wished that I did not have to suffer alone but then I would be forgetting the old you. The malnourished, the angry and spiteful. I never wanted to forget her as it seems you never have forgotten me.”

“I thought of you too, you were all that consumed my thoughts at every dinner I attended- at every sparring session I went through. Surely if you are here tonight… has there been some semblance of good?”

He stands to full height, picking up your chin as his thumb brushes away your tears. “Good things do not come to men like me, we must chase them against the better judgement of others or else we will never see them. I am what I need to be, I worked for this, worked to see you once again. And here I hope, before I tell you more that you see me the way I do you?”

You drop your head into his hand, your own raising to play with the various gold designs intertwined with his collar. “Of course, you are my dearest friend of all- for all time.” And then hurt flashes in the man's eyes, he drops your head once more, his hand flexing before closing- his legs carrying him towards the exit. Your eyes grow wide, watching as the man departs without another word. Your head spinning for answers, for an explanation to his answers and just as you turn back down the hall. Enver Gortash had vanished and a staff member was placing yet another glass of champagne in your hand as you headed back into the ballroom. 

─────── · ·

THE CITY: THE SERIES: PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE ... you are here

[wellthebardsdead]

*Emerald grove devil au, a blacksmiths loose screw*

———

Falûne: *locked in a room in Wyrms rock fortress after Gortash took him hostage to make sure the group behaved themselves and killed orin, a heavy collar around his neck enchanted to act as a mobile hold monster spell keeping him imprisoned and unable to teleport or leave at all* selûne I know you don’t like me but Mielikki and Silvanus can’t reach me here and- *blinks as the collar suddenly breaks and falls off him* huh? *looks over as the steelwatch machine guarding his door just crumples to the ground* what the?

*meanwhile*

Dammon: *whistling away as he tosses an unconscious Wulbren into an open steelwatch machines torso with an equally unconscious Gortash inside* there we go- *picks up his welding rod and breaths fire on it igniting it before pulling his mask over his face and welding the cavity closed as he talks to himself* see how you like dying in one of the machines you betrayed Karlach for you miserable pile of crap, this’ll teach you to kidnap my fiancé he’d better be unharmed or ill go back to hell just to kill you a second time- nasty little racist prick picking on Barcus like that you don’t deserve to have a friend like him-

Gortash: *blinks awake slowly seeing sparks flying and then darkness as he’s welded in* what the- *jumps as the machine suddenly lurches upright, gears grabbing at his clothes and skin and only then just registering the agony his wrist is in* h-huh?! *grabs at it to find his hand severed and missing along with the stone* sh-shit! Shit- *starts banging on the metal to try and get out, waking up wulbren in the process*

*A few minutes and a walk to the peer later*

Dammon: *whistling as he stops the machine just in front of the water, smiling up at it proudly and admiring his work* hm, I’ve improved.

*muffled bangs and screaming*

Dammon: shame no one will see it though. *kicks the steelwatch automaton making it fall forward into the water, drowning them both. An uncomfortably content smile on his face as he watches the bubbles slowly fade*

Wyll: *runs over with his father and the rescued hostages as Barcus and the gondians gather with the iron hands* we got them!

Barcus: and Mr Silverbough should be getting your lû right about now-

Falûne: DAMMON!! *jumps out of Halsins arms and runs to him*

Dammon: *smile disappearing and being replaced with a face of relief as he holds back tears embracing him* My love!!

Halsin: *smiling at them* our son picked a good egg. How did you fare my heart?

Aura: *in her grey wolf form, trots over to him and spits out gortash’s severed hand*

Halsin: great work as usual~