#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

[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!

[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?”

[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."

~

[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)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ 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.

[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

[eurydia]

a self-indulgent drawing of Raphael disheveled and covered in blood

I was inspired to write a short fic to go with it, you can read it below or in AO3: [One Last Visit]

Tav finds Raphael bleeding and near-death in her room in Elfsong Tavern—or so she thinks.

One Last Visit (944 words) by Eurydia

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Blood and Injury, Drinking, Alcohol, Older Man/Younger Woman, Ficlet, Minor Spoilers, Raphael is overly protective of Tav, Hope is such a tease (and so is he)

This is also my gift for the support on "The Lover's Gambit". Thank you so much ❤️!

Tag explanations: - Minor spoilers for Wyll's background - Implied/Referenced Torture - Does not actually happen in the fic, but Raphael briefly describes doing it to someone else

      Tav went to her room in Elfsong Tavern. The rest of her party was still downstairs, drinking and celebrating for the night.

      She opened the door and found Raphael slumped against her bed, his white frilled collar stained with blood.

      “Raphael? What in the Hells happened?” she knelt beside him.

      He glanced at her weakly, managing a smirk. Tav wanted to think it was selfishness that made her start tending to his wounds: if she helped him, he would owe her a favor. But that wasn’t entirely true. She had developed a soft spot for the devil.

      “Do you know what happens when a devil is struck down on this charming plane of existence?” he began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.       “Stop talking and hold still,” Tav muttered. Presently, she had no patience for his theatrics. She grabbed a napkin off a table and began to wipe his smarmy face with it.       He chuckled. For once, he listened and stayed still, silently watching her dab at his curled lip.

      It wasn’t long before Tav realized there wasn’t a single cut or bruise on him. Either he was concealing them—or feigning his injuries. She gave him the benefit of the doubt for now and looked him over. Bloodstains covered his normally immaculate outfit, some mere splatters while others steadily bloomed in size. He smelled strongly of the Hells, of ash, sulfur and infernal metal.

      Raphael was enjoying this. He figured he could indulge himself a little more and drag the show on.

      “I’ll get Shadowheart—“       He grabbed her wrist gently. Worry strained her fair features.       “As much as I enjoy watching you fuss over me, I’m afraid we don’t have much time,” Raphael said, solemnly. “Soon I’ll be sent back to the hells, to the very point where I last stood before I was…beaten. Potentially for good, this time. But since I’ve grown quite fond of you, I decided to pay you one last visit. For old time’s sake.”       Tav stared at his fingers still curled around her wrist. She slowly took his hand in hers.       “A question you may ask, but only one. True to my word, I shall answer, not run.”       Her gaze fell to a stain somewhere on his chest.       “What is a devil like you truly afraid of?” she decided.

      Raphael laughed. A laugh that came from deep within, unabashed and loud.

      “Oh, you mortals are so gullible! It’s adorable. Do you really think I could be beaten so easily? No need to fetch your favorite cleric,” he snapped. All the bloodstains on his clothes vanished. “It wasn’t my blood, little pup.”       Tav sighed. She shoved him away and walked to her wine cabinet.       “You’re insufferable,” she groaned, opening a Berduskan and taking a long, irritated swig.        “Don’t act so surprised. We are well-acquainted by now.”       He stood then brushed nonexistent dust off his clean clothes.       “Do I dare ask whose blood that was?”       “Let’s just say that vile, drunken creature downstairs won’t be bothering you any longer.”

      Tav set her drink down.

      “What did you do?”       “If you must know: I dismembered him,” he grinned. “Limb by limb, fingernail by fingernail. You should’ve heard his screaming, it was utterly delightful.”       Her back was to him, but he caught her shoulders bowing. He grinned.       “Are you worried about me?”       “Merely protecting my assets,” he replied. “Now, enjoy your night. If you’ll—“       “Wait. You didn’t answer me.”

      Raphael approached her. He extended a hand, brow raised in question. Eventually, she gave her his hand. He conjured up a handkerchief and began to wipe the bloodstains off her fingers.

      “I did not,” said Raphael, his eyes sharpening to a point on her palm. “My heart aches for your horned and heroic friend, Wyll Ravengard. If he’s not in the shadow of his fellow devils, he’s in the shadow of his father. I see why Mizora took pity on the poor pup. After all these years, he still hasn’t given up hope of pleasing him. Hope—such a tease.”

      Raphael said it all in his usual tone, full of melodrama and feigned pathos. At the end, however, Tav caught his gaze softening. Their eyes met, and he quickly finished his task before turning away.

      “You don’t get along with your father?” Tav asked, genuinely surprised. She found it strangely human that even a fiend like him was not immune to such predicaments.       “Unless you consider plotting each other’s downfall as a father-son bonding activity, then no. We do not. Thankfully, I have as much interest in making amends as I do in the affairs of mortalkind.”

      He would never admit it, but he hadn’t told a single soul about how he felt about his father, not even his incubus. Usually, he would’ve taken his leave by now. But the way she stared at him, with tenderness and affection, compelled him to linger a moment longer. He let her draw nearer, until he was close enough to see the scarring in her eye from the tadpole.

      Tav kissed him on the cheek.

      “Thank you, Raphael. I owe you a drink."       “A drink? I think you owe me far more than that." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing on her lips. She felt herself rising to meet him, her eyelids fluttering shut, her heartbeat overtaking the murmurs of the Illithid—       He snapped.       “Goodnight, sweetling.”

      She watched him disappear in a vibrant flame. On the spot where he had stood, lay a neatly folded handkerchief. She picked it up and sniffed it, the scent of the Hells—of him—flooding her senses like the most intoxicating perfume.

      Tav put it in her pocket and smiled.

[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

[asidian]

Another Path: Chapter 30

by: Asidian

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Astarion/Wyll

Warnings: trust issues, past abuse, past noncon, torture, AU, attempted seduction, gore, violence

Excerpt:

He's exhausted, truth be told. It's sunk its claws in deep, way down to the heart of him. Every step is a struggle; without Wyll's arm around his waist, he suspects he wouldn't be able to walk at all.

And when his foot comes down again – bare amidst the jagged metal twisted apart in the crash – he hisses in a breath and jerks away again, the sharp corners cutting into the soles of his feet.

Wyll's eyes dart down toward the ground, and he winces at what he sees. "Hells," he says. "I didn't even think about your feet." He bites at his lip, and then steps in a touch nearer. "I'll carry you the rest of the way. We aren't far now."

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday on a Tuesday

Astarion weathers his lower lip between his teeth as he gazes across the fire. Karlach is sitting close to Wyll, regaling him with her side of a famous clash with the Blade of Frontiers as he, for everyone else’s benefit, corrects with the actual events.

This little… whatever of Astarion and Karlach’s isn’t so weak that it flickers at the fact she’s talking to Wyll with an arm around him, that’s just Karlach. No, his attention is far more rapt on the story she’s telling or, rather, the way she tells the story.

He sees her bare her teeth and flex her arms, her tail thrashes about and it’s the first time that Astarion considers that that too can be a weapon as deadly as her axe.

Karlach’s opinion of her time in the hells ranges from moment to moment. There’s certain consistencies he’s picked up: anything about Zariel makes her flash her teeth and her ports sputter with flame, even now that her engine’s been tuned up; taking on demons and devils tends to get her also ramped up, but for different reasons and there’s a mania he recognizes to his core and associates with a maw dripping of blood and a metallic tinge on his tongue; any talk of liberating tieflings makes her glow like an ember (and if he’s honest, his initial feelings of annoyance at her whole ‘savior’ nonsense has fizzled slightly and he maybe finds it endearing). It’s not without reason, all of it. Astarion knows she had a nightmare of a time in the hells, scraping by as she was treated as Zariel’s plaything and enforcer. All things considered, it’s a feeling that Astarion knows intimately. But whereas Astarion flourishes in his cruelty (or, well, he supposes it’s less these days), Karlach shies away from it. He’s only caught it in glimpses—her rage in battle, her fury towards Gortash, and that righteous sort of fire when it comes to the fates and struggles of her friends.

Their friends.

Astarion didn’t think there was a person alive who could hate Cazador more than he does, but, occasionally, Karlach makes him second guess that. It’s nice, admittedly, someone getting heated for his behalf. Even a few weeks ago, it’d pissed him off, a reminder that she and everyone else was too little, too late—where the hells were they when he actually needed someone? Why was it only now that literally anyone cared about him, about what he’d been through?

…but maybe he’s learning it’s not that simple. And even if it’s late, it’s not all bad.

Or something like that.

He watches Karlach throw her head back with a guffaw and he feels his dead heart twitch pathetically.

But while her warmth and her smile is effecting him rather positively these days, it’s not her joy she’s focusing on.

A couple flaggons of beer down and he sees something he recognizes—they’re talking about an attack on some demon camp in the hells and he sees it. There’s a brightness in her eyes, a shine to her teeth, and for a moment, he understands—she really was the fury of the Avernus.

He’s seen her so tame in the time he’s known her, other than the occasional bouts of anger she gives herself to in the heat of battle, but that’s a whole other matter entirely.

She’s never been like that with him, only ever kind and sweet and giving and…

Astarion drags his tongue across his lips as he watches Karlach bare her teeth at Wyll in a smile that’s a touch too bloodthirsty for her usual banter. While breathing isn’t a necessity, Astarion still feels his breath hitch slightly.

While he’s been rather formidable foe for near every person he’s cornered, it’s not a new concept that he can’t win every fight. And he knows, objectively, he might lose a fight against a number of his cohorts, but looking at her…

Karlach, Fury of Avernus, Advocatus Diaboli, could slaughter him and that concept makes his skin prickle, his throat feel dry, and something ache in his pants.

[verbenaa]

to eden | chapter five

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: Rin paints an easy smile onto her face as she turns away from Astarion and to where her dinner and hopefully a lovely bottle of red waits for her. She will find her way to Astarion tonight, she knows better than to pretend otherwise even if she’ll never admit it. The least she can afford herself is a little bit of alcohol to soothe her embarrassment at her willingness to be at his mercy.

Astarion calls out to her as she walks away, voice a low purr. “I’ll be waiting, dearest.”

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/F! Tav

𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: E

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 9.0k (i am so sorry)

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: beheading (off-screen but there is a vague description of this), fingering (f!receiving), orgasm denial/delay, breast worship, dirty talk, piv, (light) hair pulling, aftercare, soft dom Astarion baybeeeee

𝒶/𝓃: hi hi hi I'm back with the next chapter. sorry it took a little longer than usual but OH WELL it's here now. also it's worth noting the last half of this is pretty explicit smut 😮 so please be mindful of the warnings listed above ✨ thank you so much for reading, liking, reblogging etc; I appreciate every single one of you and you make my day 🥹

ao3 here

masterlist

The fires of the Grymforge lick at her skin as glowing embers dance through the air, carried on a too warm breeze that provides no relief to the sweat beading on her skin like drops of dew. Rin is almost certain that she’s so close to the Hells down here that she can smell brimstone amongst the metallic tinge of iron invading her senses as she sets her eyes straight ahead.

Nere’s head is surprisingly heavy where it dangles from her hand; his long, white hair gripped tight in between gloved fingers as his mouth hangs open, lips slack with death. Blood drips down onto the warmed stone beneath her boots with a steady sound, the drip drip drip a macabre beat she’s certain she could turn into song if she had some parchment and a quill handy to jot down the resounding notes of it. 

Eyes up, eyes up, eyes up.

Rin looks resolutely forward, nausea curling deep in her stomach as the long knife she had used to behead him still in her right hand, handle painted deep red with the Drow’s blood.

Don’t look down.

“Does anyone have a bag? A cloth?” The smile that graces her face doesn’t reach her eyes, her pleasant tone discordant with the scene of carnage; all manner of Duergar, Ironhand, and well, Nere’s now-headless corpse spread around them. “I’d rather not drip my way back to the Myconids, if possible. Who knows what that would attract.”

Nere’s voice still echoes in her mind as if the tadpole doesn’t want her to forget the cold rage in his words and the power he thought he had commanded as he attempted to force her to cut down the Duergar. 

Too bad for Nere she had already made her deal with them, however distasteful she finds their work practices (or lack thereof) to be.

Rin recognizes distantly that they all seem to be looking at her a little strangely—Karlach and Wyll trading a glance between them and even Astarion wearing an expression of something close to concern.

She should have let one of them do the dirty work. Astarion, Karlach, even Wyll would all have been better suited for this particular task—they were all far more versed in dealing with monsters like this.

It was one thing to bury her blade in the belly of an enemy; a cold, impersonal death that she could easily rationalize away. 

But the act of her knife cutting through muscle, cartilage, bone—it was anything but impersonal. 

And yet, she did it. And she would do it again, too; the realization of that growing heroism rising to life in her somehow more terrifying than the thought of her blade cutting through the gristle of a hundred more necks.

But even she, with her half-empty heart, knew without a doubt that the world was better off without the so-called ‘true souls’ like Nere inhabiting it.

Rin isn’t sure exactly who it is that comes forward to take the head from her, shoving it away into some sort of covering and hiding it from sight. Her fingers flex, free of the weight, as she resists the urge to wipe at the sweat that sits high on her forehead and runs down her temples, the thought of more of Nere’s blood on her worsening the nausea building in her stomach.

At least Elder Brithvar got his money and the Gnomes got their freedom. 

And Rin got Nere’s head—or rather, Sovereign Spaw would be getting Nere’s head once she delivers it back through the belly of the Underdark.

Wins all around, it would seem.

She ignores the temptation to tear off her blood-caked gloves and toss them into the molten river flowing beside her, instead settling instead on giving a firm nod to the Gnomes behind her as they collect their kin around them, speaking in soft tones of their plans. Rin has a sneaking suspicion that this won’t be the last time they encounter the Ironhands, if the whispers and hard looks passed around to one another are any indication. 

With a last, sweeping look around, she begins her steps across the rough-hewn stone towards the giant arching staircase, hoping to never have to set foot in the overbearing heat of the forge again.

The way back through the Underdark to the Myconid colony feels infinitely longer than it had before, even with the weight of Nere’s head no longer in her hands, now safely held instead by Karlach who was seemingly unbothered by the blood staining the cloth a deep, dark crimson.

They had taken the same rickety boat back across to the shore, its rotting planks creaking as it weaved its way through impossibly dark and depthless waters; the occasional bioluminescent fin breaking through the waves or the trail of something terrifyingly long slithering through the water next to them disturbing the surface of the water as they sailed, Rin’s skin crawling at thoughts of whatever things swam beneath them.

The entire party seems grateful when they step onto the stinking docks of the old village, the sand sticking to their boots as they climb step by step up the far from stable wooden walkways leading up the edge of the cliff face. Rin had never thought she would appreciate the chill of this nightmarish world, but after the rolling heat at the heart of the forge she now welcomes the coolness of that phantom breeze on her skin as she steps carefully over the half-broken boards below her feet.

“While I must admit you do make quite the vision covered in blood, darling,” Astarion comes up behind her on silent feet, appearing without her notice in that way of his he seems to take great enjoyment in as Rin starts at his presence, his movements ever graceful as one of his gloved hands comes to rest lightly on her elbow. “Why don’t you take a moment to drink this?”

Rin glances down at his free hand, taking notice of the small glass vial containing a familiar red liquid held in his open palm. Astarion wasn’t wrong, she had somehow managed to forget about healing herself in midst of it all—the small cuts on her face still stinging from the beads of sweat that had dripped down her temples and onto her cheeks, no doubt the trail of them cutting through the grime she can feel covering every inch of her exposed skin.

“I would have thought you wouldn’t be terribly picky as long as any blood was present.” She glances to Astarion as their feet fall into step next to one another as they finally crest the final steps, almost painfully aware of the hand barely touching her elbow.

“The sight is rather thrilling, I’ll grant you.” He raises his brows suggestively as Rin glances down at the bottle in his outstretched palm once more. “However, I would rather you be covered in only your blood, preferably as I partake of it.”

She reaches out and plucks the bottle from his hand, curling her fingers around the glass before Astarion can change his mind and hide it away once more in his pack. With the cork between two gloved fingers she pulls it free before pressing it to her lips, drinking down the red liquid in a quick gulp, a cooling sensation already spreading through her. “I’ll make sure that I manage to only get covered in my own blood next time we melee, then. To better suit you.”

“I shall look forward to the sight.”

They fall into a companionable silence as they walk beside one another, Rin’s eyes searching along the dark landscape as they tread towards the colony, phosphorescent mushrooms and blindingly blue crystals lining their path as their trek lingers on endlessly.

Had it been days? Weeks? Rin had lost track in the deep darkness of this world below, the sun so far above them not even the tiniest beam has a chance of making it down. There were so many colors down here, ones she had only ever dreamed of seeing. It was such an eerie, effervescent beauty, so easily masquerading as a dream when it was nothing but a nightmare with the creatures that wander this place.

She steps delicately over the bright pink pad of a mushroom, the sponginess soft against boots still caked with drying blood as they finally pass into the threshold of the colony, Myconids going about their business with graceful sways of motion.

The Underdark was nothing if not illuminating, quite literally, Rin thinks as she walks past the glowing mushrooms lining the way to where Spaw waits for them, its hazy light mixing with the warm glow of a nearby lantern, glowing little moths drawn in by its luminescence.

As Rin climbs the final mushroom up to the platform where Sovereign Spaw reigns, she feels nothing but excitement to be finally done with the Underdark and its cold, deadly beauty.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin brushes out the final tangle from her damp hair as she sits cross-legged on her bedroll, sighing in satisfaction at finally being free of the feeling of the blood that had crusted on her skin.

The smell of what is presumably a stew—likely filled with a  number of things Rin doesn’t want to think about—wafts along the air, her stomach rumbling in protest. She sets her brush back down upon her makeshift table next to a growing stack of folded papers, all filled with beautiful scrolling script despite the often brief and sardonic messages they contained.

She had sometimes taken to imagining what Astarion must look like when he would read her little messages, allowing her mind to wander in the few and far in between moments of precious alone time she had the privilege of. 

He still never addresses her in his letters, always quick to the point with his words. But he still sends them, and that fact fills something inside her she has no plans to put a name to at the point of overflow with every response received. 

Rin grabs her lyre resting against the side of the tent, the worn wood comforting in her hands as she flicking her fingers over the strings, plucking each one softly, the notes barely resonating into reality. The strings were still in tune much to her delight, though the flowers carved into the soft wood have seen better days, several now sporting gauges along the petals in thanks to their recent travels.

Instrument in hand she stands, stepping out into camp intent on heading straight to where dinner was so kindly being served. Rin inclines her head to Karlach where she sits by the fire, the tiefling raising the tankard of Dwarven Ale in her hand in response.  

She’s barely taken three steps towards where Gale ladles something liquid (soup? stew? broth of a questionable meat?) into chipped bowls to be served with stale slices of sourdough when she notices his presence. 

“Ah, there’s my little treat with her cheeks all flushed,” He croons at Rin, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as she stops walking, releasing a sigh as she sends her dinner a last look of longing. “I’ve been wondering where you were.”

She sends him a look out of the corner of her eye before turning to face him as she props an hand up on her hip. “Is that the best you’ve got for me today? Just ‘your little treat with flushed cheeks’? Come now, Astarion. I know you have better lines than that.”

“Oh, well, I was going to next ask if you would be joining me in my bed later tonight, but if it’s another you want I will gladly oblige.” A finger comes up to pose next to his lip as he thinks, mind digging through his presumably endless and tiring amount of pick-up lines. “All these accolades from the Tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.”

Rin lets out a laugh at what was an utterly ridiculous sentence, the line doing nothing to assuage her to his bed. But she would certainly play along with this little game of his. 

“Oh, Astarion. Such honeyed words, and yet they do not tempt me to taste.”

His eyes skate down from her face to the place between her legs, smile turning infinitely more sensual as they return to meet her own. “They’re not nearly half as sweet as when I last tasted you.”

“You’ll have to be more specific about which taste in particular you find the sweetest, darling.” She gives Astarion her best impression of him, lowering her pitch and elongating the word ‘darling’ as her smile widens at his overdramatic eye roll in response, breaking the look of seduction painted over his features.

“I can give you a more in-depth answer later, if you’d like.” He’s quick to bring the mask back up, replacing his annoyance with another alluring smile that has her brow rising.

Astarion doesn’t give her a chance to reply, already another one of those cursed lines leaving his lips, spouting something about her perfect body and the Gods that has her lip curling in distaste. It was some even worse than the last one he threw her way, a sigh breaking free as she shoots him a look of disbelief.

“I’m fairly certain the Gods had zero hand in making me, otherwise they did a poor job on a few things. Did these really work on Cazador’s targets? I refuse to believe it.”

Rin had never considered herself someone with terribly high standards, but perhaps she needed to reassess her opinion of herself if that many people were so obviously swayed by words that belonged in the likes of the cheap romance novellas sold in some of the less than reputable book sellers back in Baldur’s Gate.

“Well, they worked on you last time, didn’t they?”

Rin levels a finger at him as her eyes narrow.

“Firstly, I did not sleep with you just because you called me pretty.” She doesn’t need to mention that she did it because she had been having inappropriate dreams about him. Or that she still does. “I slept with you because I was…curious. Secondly—”

“You know what they say about curiosity, darling.” Astarion interrupts her, a dangerous smile spreading across his lips as the look in his eyes turns sly.

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not the one who is like a cat then, isn’t it?” 

“You seem to preen well enough under my hand when I pet you.” She somehow managed to play right into Astarion’s hands, his smile widening as he speaks.

“I did no such thing.” If she had a little less composure, she would be stamping her foot, settling instead for averting her eyes as she hmphs in his direction.

“Alright, alright,” Astarion waves her off with a roll of his eyes at her little display. “Just one more. How about if I said these little words…”

His face turns almost serious, lashes lowering and mouth turning soft as he prepares whatever he has next for her. 

 “I love you.”

Something in her chest stutters strangely, her eyes narrowing as Astarion stands in front of her, earning the role of the charlatan she knows him to be with this little performance, a perfect liar complete with a pretty package.

Rin doesn’t remember the last time someone told her they loved her, words she hadn’t dreamed of hearing from another’s lips since she was a naive girl, young and earnest and full of hope. She’s sure it had to have happened before but her memory draws an unfortunate blank as she tries to resurrect something—any inkling of a feeling—but nothing comes to mind. 

However much the girl she had once been wanted to hear those three words, she doubts that Astarion will be the one to ever utter them to her, to speak them as kisses fall across the planes of her face, placed with the love and reverence and wonder.

Rin raises a brow as she dismisses the thought to the back of her mind to rest with her other, less than favorable vulnerabilities. “I thought you were a better liar than that. I do hope you’re enjoying yourself though, you certainly look like you’re having fun.”

“Decidedly. I like to think you and I have lots of fun together. It’s quite easy, with you. Especially compared to the rest of this lot we’ve seemed to throw ourselves in with.” Astarion gestures with a nod to their companions behind him, Rin peeking over his shoulder to glance at them where they go about their evening—or what constitutes as an evening when there is no sun or moon to mark the passage of time.

The words are surprisingly genuine and Rin feels the slightest hint of heat rise to her cheeks at the sentiment behind them. It was true that she may prefer Astarion’s companionship above the others—and not just because of their slightly more intimate relationship—but to know that it was perhaps returned was a dizzying thought.

Perhaps they were friends, after all.

“All of this to say that I was hoping, darling, that you would join me tonight for a little, shall we say—respite. Experience one another’s full portfolio of talents, if you will.”

Her cheeks heat at the mention of another night spent in his arms and at the mercy of his hands and lips and his—

“I might make my way to you. I guess we’ll just have to see where I end up tonight.” It’s a blatant lie, unbelievable to likely anyone within hearing range. Astarion certainly doesn’t look convinced by the words, a victorious smile already curling on those lovely lips of his.

Rin paints an easy smile onto her face as she turns away from Astarion and to where her dinner and hopefully a lovely bottle of red waits for her. She will find her way to Astarion tonight, she knows better than to pretend otherwise even if she’ll never admit it. The least she can afford herself is a little bit of alcohol to soothe her embarrassment at her willingness to be at his mercy.

Astarion calls out to her as she walks away, voice a low purr. “I’ll be waiting, dearest.”

She doesn’t look back to see where he stalks off to as she raises a hand to wave him off.

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

The barest hint of excitement settles in Rin’s stomach as she pulls the tent flap to the side, peeking her head inside the darkened interior only to find Astarion in the exact opposite state of dress she expected, buckling on a chest plate of armor instead of taking it off.

He looks up at her arrival, eyes gleaming with mischief as he eyes Rin up and down in her thin blouse. “Ah, I had so hoped you would come by. Grab your sword, darling. We’re going out on a little adventure.”

She stands back upright, glancing from side to side to check that Astarion was, in fact, talking only to her and not to one of their other companions who had somehow managed to sneak up behind her.

“An adventure,” Rin tastes the words on her tongue as her eyes narrow in Astarion’s direction, that mischievous look of his highly suspicious. “You know, I do feel as though I’ve had enough of those recently.”

“Nonsense,” Astarion scoffs at her response, waving his hand in a trademark dismissive gesture as he finishes the final buckle of his armor, adjusting it once before securing a short sword to his back. “We are adventurers, are we not? What kind of bard says no to a potential tale for a ballad?”

Rin hazards a look around her and releases a breath with the realization that none of their companions seemed to be listening, or at least none obviously listening. 

She hisses through her teeth as she keeps her voice low, careful not to be overheard. “Astarion. I am not going out there, into the wilds of the Underdark to have sex.”

It wasn’t that their companions didn’t know about their last little adventure together, it was quite the opposite—a fact Rin became painfully aware of as she had walked through camp the next morning—bite mark painfully obvious and messy hair a dead giveaway—and pretended to pay no mind to the furrow of Gale’s brow or the look of disapproval on Wyll’s face. 

Karlach had the decency, at the very least, to give Rin a saucy wink as she made her way back to her tent, in which she only replied with a suggestive wiggle of her brow. 

“You had no qualms about having sex in the wilderness, what’s the difference now? A few more scary monsters, perhaps?” The smile Astarion wears as he teases her is nothing short of infuriating, her fingers itching to find something to throw at him. “Where’s your sense of adventure? It would be terrible loss for all the poor little souls who need your help were you to suddenly lose it.”

“My sense of adventure is fine, thank you.” Rin glares at him as she settles for crossing her arms in front of her like a petulant child instead of pelting him with something. “And yes, well, last time there was pretty flowers and soft grass, not…deadly mushrooms everywhere you look and strange creatures that rise up out of the godsforsaken ground without warning.”

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid, sweet thing.” Astarion is far too amused with this line of questioning, evident by the tease in his words and the cunning smile he wears.

She wasn’t afraid so much as simply pragmatic about the potential risk of enjoying herself in what was very clearly a living hellscape. “I am nothing of the sort. I am simply cautious about being ambushed with my clothes off.”

He arches a brow, clearly unconvinced by her argument. “That could happen in camp too, you know.”

He was right, damn him. Rin sighs heavily and despite her lackluster protest, she can’t deny the terrifying feeling that swirls in her chest at the opportunity to get to be with Astarion—alone.

“Fine, but at the first sign of anything strange we head back.”

“You have my word, darling.” Astarion holds his hand up in mock salute and while his ‘promise’ does nothing to assuage her, the smile that breaks through on her face belays that fact. “I have missed you. And now you’re all mine. And I’m all yours, until morning at least. Let’s see where the night takes us.”

✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧

Rin trudges through the Underdark once more, the light leather of her armor rubbing against the thin shirt she wears. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

Astarion looks somehow at complete ease, unbothered by the dark landscape surrounding them as he walks next to her.

“You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to have sex down here.”

“I can’t say I ever thought I would be in the Underdark, much less even considering having sex down here.” Rin sighs as she rolls her shoulders, her sword a comfort from its place on her back. “We need to be careful. One wrong move in the throes of passion and we’ll accidentally set off one of those explosive mushrooms. How would we ever be able to explain it to Withers? I don’t think I’d be able to look him in the eyes again.”

“Oh, I think Withers has seen his fair share over the years. I doubt there’s much we could do to shock that old mummy.”

He was probably right. 

But still.

“Let’s just hope we don’t come across anything hungry looking for a snack, at the very least.” Rin sighs as they fall into silence once more, Astarion leading the way confidently as he navigates them to a place that apparently only he knows, her eyes unsuccessfully marking their location as they pass spore after spore after spore.

Finally a dark shape looms ahead of them, appearing seemingly out of nowhere in the mists until they’re practically in front of it. Several more steps forward and Rin suddenly recognizes their location, incredulousness striking through her as she continues to follow Astarion until she reaches a familiar set of darkened stone steps.

“The Arcane Tower. Really, Astarion?” Rin stops in her tracks to look at him as the building stands imposingly before them, all dark walls and strange metal pipes curling at the edges, the same peculiar mist ever present around the structure.

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you have preferred a moldy mattress back at the Selunite Outpost or a dark, damp cave instead?” Astarion huffs as he turns to look at Rin, clearly put out by her complaints evidenced by the annoyance written across his face. “At least I chose somewhere with lighting.”

He gestures to the arcane lanterns dotting the uneven stone of the facade, the eerie blue light emanating from them adding nothing that Rin would ever consider ambiance to Astarion’s location of choice.   

“I’ll admit the other options listed were much worse. But I still don’t see what was so offensive about a tent.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, darling. And this is the best this little corner of the Underdark has to offer unless you want to trek our way over to Menzoberranzan and put ourselves at the mercy of the Drow. Although…maybe that’s not a terrible idea, honestly.”

“They’d have us tied up and in chains before we could even set foot inside.” Astarion’s eyes light up, another retort already forming on his lips likely about said chains. Rin is quick to cut him off with a look. “Lead the way, then.” 

They walk up the front steps but not before Rin gives a final glance at the turrets still standing, eyes assessing that they were, in fact, deactivated—she had already taken one hit from its powerful beam some time earlier and was not eager for another.

It doesn’t take them long to make their way inside the tower and move down to the basement level, Astarion leading the way. Rin knows that while they did technically befriend the automatons (or however much one can befriend magically programmed beings) living several floors up, she can’t help but marvel at the lack of fear in his steps as he moves quietly across the floor, at ease in the dim light of the workshop around them. 

He opens the door leading out to the back, holding it open as Rin passes under his arm to step into the small garden behind the tower. The space is just as they left it, though the small Sussur at the water’s edge lacks its bloom, long since donated to the likes of Omeluum back with the Myconids. 

Rin gives the water bordering the garden a withering glare, desperately hoping nothing decides to drag itself onto the shoreline whilst they are in the middle of certain activities. She looks up to the top of the tower briefly before her gaze darts back to where Astarion had moved past her, now laying a blanket down on a soft patch of grass growing up in between the uneven pavers.

The uncanny glow of the Sussur tree emanates from behind Astarion as he removes his sheathed sword, setting it down on the ground near his feet. Numerous other little knives follow as the luminous glow reflects off both his pale skin and the blades he empties, not waiting for Rin to follow his lead as he makes himself comfortable, leaning back on his elbows.

“This is quite the place you’ve chosen, I hope you know.”

“I’ve had liaisons in far less savory places with far worse company,” Astarion shifts his gaze to Rin’s where she still stands several steps away. “I’m quite content with this, actually.”

“I guess by those standards I, too, have had my share of dubious encounters,” Rin walks over to where he reclines and lays her sword to rest by the pile of Astarion’s own, sitting down beside him with legs crossed as a glowing blue leaf floats slowly to the ground in front of them. “But certainly never this dangerous before, though. Usually just, you know, the odd alleyway or storage closet.”

“I think you like the danger.” His voice is back to the velvety cadence that haunts her when she tries to sleep, whispering the things the wants him to do to her in her most private imaginings. Astarion sits up and turns to face her, the look in his eyes luring her in.

“I may be coming around to it.” Rin wishes it were a lie as her eyes flick to his, the unknown feeling that has been slowly blooming in her chest giving a pulse as they grow nearer.

In a garden filled with arguably deadly things, he was by far the most dangerous thing here and she's powerless against that face of his as he pulls her own closer with a finger under her chin. The Sussur casts an uncanny glow down upon him, lining him in a luminous blue.

“I thought so.” Something like victory flashes across his claret eyes as he lowers his lips to Rin’s, the hand underneath her chin sweeping down to curl around the back of her neck as he pulls her closer.

She melts into the kiss, the world falling away around her as her focus narrows to the feeling of his lips against hers with a speed that should feel worrisome. And yet, Rin feels nothing but satisfaction spread through her as the beat in her chest quickens, the grip against her neck soft despite the urgency with which his mouth moves.

Astarion’s hands are quick find their way down her body, skating over her armor as he finds each and every buckle with ease, deftly unbuckling her armor bit by bit before letting it fall onto the blanket below them and sweeping it to the side with a brush of his arm, his lips never leaving hers.

The lack of weight is freeing, Rin sighing as she deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against the coolness of Astarion’s lips in askance. He opens for her and her tongue darts in to taste him, brushing against his own.

Astarion’s hands caress down, remembering the curve of her waist and hips as they explore. He finds the hem of her shirt and slowly pulls it up her form, only breaking their kiss briefly, his lips retreating from Rin’s as he drags the thin spun cotton over her head before tossing it away with a flick of his wrist. They meet again not a moment later, Astarion capturing hers in a hard press as his hands find her waist once more, dragging her closer.

Rin follows the lead of the hands that pull as her waist, sliding over towards where Astarion fits her onto his lap. Her legs part all too readily on either side of his hips as she faces him, fingers sliding down the leather scales of his chest plate.

“I don’t think you need this on anymore.”  Her fingers fumble at the buckles of his armor with none of the nimble grace of Astarion’s as she fights against leather and metal, his delight in her frustration obvious by the amused smile playing on his lips as she releases a noise of frustration when her fingers slip once more.

Astarion finally takes pity on her, his own hands coming up to join her own as he undoes the last of the buckles holding his armor on before quickly shucking it off to join the pile where hers sit in a jumble beside them. 

“My, you’re eager tonight aren’t you?” Fingers dance up and down Rin’s spine, her chest pressing into the cloth of Astarion’s shirt as she rests her arms around his shoulders. 

She ignores Astarion’s question, instead drawing her lips across his jaw as she presses kisses to his cool skin as her hands trail down his back before sliding her fingers underneath the soft material to run them along his lower back, careful to avoid the deep scars he had seemed so rightfully discontented about when she had seen them the last time.

Astarion seems to sink into the warmth of her hands on his skin, pulling her hips closer to his own as her lips work at the place where his pulse should thrum, the beat of it long silenced as her mouth runs over his throat. Rin can’t help the small gasp that slips out as hips connect, her covered center connecting with his as a pulse of heat works its way through her body.

“You know, I think I’d rather fancy you beneath me.” Astarion’s hand cups the back of her head, fingers sliding through the soft strands before he turns them, rolling them both. Rin finds herself lying on her back not a moment later, the hand behind her head slowly lowering her down onto the blanket as Astarion hovers over her between her spread legs. 

“And I’d rather fancy you take this off.” Her fingers grip his shirt, lighting pulling at the fabric as she smirks up at him, untucking it slightly from his pants. 

Astarion returns her look as he briefly sits up, pulling his shirt over his head in one swift movement before leaning back down, hands caressing her hips as he presses his bare chest against her own. “Is that the only thing you’d fancy?” 

“There are a few more things that come to mind, now that I think of it.” The tips of her breasts press into his chest as Astarion lowers his head to kiss her, one of the hands on her hip sneaking around to the front of her pants to run just underneath her waistline.

Rin releases a breath onto his lips as that hand inches lower, fingertips running over the front of her underwear teasingly. Her hips jump into his hand as he moves slowly lower and lower, tension curling deep inside her with every brush towards where she wants him most. 

“I think I know exactly what it is you’re thinking of.” He draws a teasing pattern over her the thin cotton gusset of her underwear, touch light as he runs them over the length of her, the growing dampness only spurring him on as he smirks at the evidence of her arousal.

Her hands fly down to grip at her pants, eager to free herself from them as she pushes them down her hips, underwear following as she quickly kicks them off of her legs with as much grace as she can manage pinned underneath Astarion as he watches on, amused.

“Ah, always in such a hurry,” A devious look takes over Astarion’s features that has her mouth opening in question, but as he runs his fingers through her newly exposed folds he chases any thought from her mind. “Why rush when you could savor?”

He collects her wetness as he moves to circle her clit, a cry breaking free of her lips at the touch as a flush rises across her cheeks and her legs widen further for him. Astarion lowers his mouth to her neck, licking up the line of her throat as he slides his fingers inside of her waiting cunt, her hips bucking as he sinks them deep.

“Ah…” Her eyes fall shut as his fingers begin to move, his lips laying a kiss on the ever present scar on her neck, the two twin points that she knows mark her as his first, at least in one sense of the word. 

Another kiss lands on her collar bone as his fingers work her, easily building her pleasure up with an ease that she hates.

“You see, darling, I think you need to learn a little patience.” Astarion presses a kiss to the valley between her breasts, her back arching into him as he curls his fingers against that one spot, threatening to bring her over the edge. And as she is just about to fall into the building euphoria Astarion stops, his fingers stilling inside her as her orgasm fades, vanishing into nothing as she whines at the loss.

Rin’s eyes fly open, staring at him with disbelief as she tries to find the words for such a betrayal before settling on two distinct ones, spoken with indignity. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I most certainly did,” Astarion leans in close, lips hovering near her ear as his fingers sit unmoving, still seated inside her. “But don’t worry, we have all night for me to teach you.”

He was enjoying this, the bastard.

His lips move to press a kiss to Rin’s own, soothing the discontent etched in the curve or her brow and the ire in her gaze before running them down the column of her neck and towards her breasts, tongue flicking out to tease at a nipple as she writhes beneath him at the stimulation.

Astarion’s fingers begin to move once more, pressing in and out of her as he sucks and licks at her breast, drawing a moan from her lips as she watches where Astarion’s connect with her nipple, painting her skin with his mouth as he leaves a trail of wetness that glows blue in the strange, effervescent light of the garden.

Her hands come up unbidden, running through his soft curls as her back arches into his waiting mouth. Astarion hums into her skin as her fingers card through those silver locks and all it takes is a glance down her body for her to see the evidence of his pleasure, the outline of his hardening cock pressing against the pants he still wears.

With luck, he would let her help him out of them—preferably sooner rather than later.

His fingers feel euphoric as they move in tandem with his mouth, ratcheting her pleasure higher and higher as he plays her body as well as any bard their lyre, fingers flicking at the strings of her pleasure with ease. 

Rin can’t help but think but that he was so unfairly good at this as her hips begin to ride his hand, chasing the high he had so cruelly denied her before in hopes of reaching her peak again as her back arches.

“Astarion,” she speaks his name on a breath, lashes fluttering closed as she holds his head to her breast as a familiar white hot heat begins to spread through her body, the coil of pleasure in her stomach tightening as it readies to break.

“Not so fast, my dear.” He releases her nipple from between his plush lips with an audible sound as his fingers once more slow, stranding Rin on the precipice of her orgasm as she whimperswhen they leave her entrance to instead rub at her folds, spreading her slickness once more.

The feeling is good but far from what she craves, certainly not nearly enough to push her back over the edge as the pleasure cools once more, still molten but not the descent into oblivion she so desires. 

“Astarion, please.” The fingers that she has buried in his hair clench at the loss of the pleasure, her center aching with an unfulfillment that only he can remedy.

“I do quite like the sound of you begging so prettily for me.” Astarion rests his head on her breast as his eyes settle on her face and the desperation held there, fingers running up through the center of her, finding her clit at the apex.

Slick fingers twirl around the pearl in a slow circle, pressure light as a sigh of relief leaves Rin’s parted lips. Astarion’s eyes cut through hers as he speaks, a haze of lust clouding the dark crimson of them, lashes low. “Tell me what exactly it is that you want.”

“You know perfectly well.” Rin snaps despite the heady feeling settling along her limbs, but she knows all too well now that he won’t hesitate to rip it away when it pleases him. She knows she must look like a mess; wet and flushed and borderline desperate to find the release that he has deprived her of.

“Mm, you’re right. I do know what you want.” His fingers fill her again, thumb rubbing at her clit as she whines. “But I like hearing it come from your lips. You write me such lovely letters filled with pretty words. I want to hear them now.”

“No. I already begged you once and you denied me.” She says with as much pride as she can all laid out underneath him, naked and vulnerable and wanting with his fingers deep inside her.

“I so love the way you look when you’re getting angry.” He pulls his fingers from her, only to join them with a third and Rin’s breath catches, the stretch of them delicious as a low moan falls from her throat.

Her head bows back onto the blanket at the fullness, the slight burn not at all unwelcome as Astarion pumps his fingers slowly, letting her adjust to the sensation. She can hear the sound of her wetness as he moves, the pleasure beginning to border on too much as sensitivity soars along with the intensity of her desire aching to course its way through her body.

His head leaves her breast, lips moving over her skin once more as Astarion kisses a line down her stomach, fingers pressing in and out of her in time with the breathy moans from her lips as he leaves a trail of wetness along the front of her.

Rin widens her legs as he lowers himself in between her thighs, hips jumping as he presses kisses below her belly button and lower still as the hand not dedicated to her body anchors itself on her hip. 

She feels his tongue touch her first at the place where his fingers fill her before licking a languid line up her folds to her clit, flicking around it.

“I must say, darling, you’ve been very good,” Astarion laps at her center, the pleasure of both his tongue and fingers euphoric as Rin’s fingers grip the blanket hard, tears beginning to mist her lashes at the overwhelming sensation of it all. “And good girls deserve a reward.” 

“Please.” Astarion gives a long sigh against her wetness but blessedly doesn’t stop either his hands or his mouth, tip of his tongue ringing around her clit with precision. 

“I suppose that will have to do. Won’t you come for me, darling?” He wraps his lips around her clit and sucks at the moment his fingers curl just right and she falls apart, heat rushing over her body as she cries out into the night.

Astarion works her through it, letting her hips buck as she rides the wave of her orgasm, lips and tongue working at her clit while his fingers continue their practiced motions as she writhes.

His lips retreat as she comes down, pillowing his head on her thigh as he watches her heaving chest, breathy little sighs leaving rosy lips. She raises a still shaking hand from beside her, unclenching her fingers from the blanket to run through his hair once more.

Rin’s head lolls to the side in contentment, his curls soft against her hands as she revels in the feeling of weightlessness settling along her limbs. “I still think I’m perfectly patient, you know.” 

“I just gave you the best orgasm of your life and you still manage to find ways to talk back to me?” Astarion scoff is punctuated with a roll of his eyes, “Maybe you are beyond my teachings.”

“Bold of you to assume that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. That ego of yours has gotten out of hand.” She can’t really deny Astarion’s words as he was unfortunately not wrong—it was easily the best orgasm of her life, but he didn’t need to know that. She’d never hear the end of it were she to let that little piece of information slip.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve earned the right to have such an ego.” He catches her evasion as his mouth widens into a smirk against her thigh. Astarion glides up her body, mouth hovering over her skin as he goes until he reaches Rin’s lips, pressing a hard kiss onto the soft pink of her own.

Rin runs her hands down his exposed chest, feeling every indention of the lithe muscles until she reaches the waistband of the pants he still wears. Hips roll into her hand as her fingers trail further down to run over the outline of his cock where it presses against the fabric, his length hardening more with every brush of her fingers.

“Show me what else that ego is capable of, then.” Astarion frees himself of his pants in an easy motion, far more graceful than she had been as he sits up to drag them down his legs and off, his cock hard as Rin glances to where it bobs between his legs.  

“On your knees, you minx.” Astarion’s hands brace themselves on her waist as Rin rolls herself over, this one a command she’s all too willing to do without complaint. Rin rises onto hands and knees, perfectly placed in front of him as if on display.

She can’t help the blush that stains her cheeks she looks back to see Astarion’s gaze wander over the expanse of her bare skin before settling on her exposed core raised into the air. No part of her is hidden away from him like this.

“Do you want to know what I would have done,” Astarion leans forward, pressing a kiss to her lower back as his hands caress her hips and he takes his place behind her. “Back in that little room at the Zhentarim hideout?”

“Yes.” Rin whispers into the air around them, yearning twisting her stomach as she feels her body heat at the words. His lips trail down over her soft flesh towards her waiting center, her arousal gleaming on her center in the light of the Sussur and she barely withholds a moan. 

“There were so many ways I could have done it. It’s hard to choose, they’re all so delicious.”

Astarion lips reach her cunt, swiping his tongue through her folds lazily as her hips jump at the contact. Without warning he licks into her entrance, capturing her essence on his tongue before darting back out, savoring the flavor of her as she cries out. 

He straightens, the taste of her still on his lips as he positions himself at her entrance, a hand stroking Rin’s hip as the head of his cock begins to press inside. “But the one I like the best is where I bent you over that little table and fucked you so hard you could barely walk out of there.”

Astarion watches as his cock sinks into her slowly, his hands gripping her hips tight as he sucks in a breath. Rin can feel every inch of him, everything seemingly so much more sensitive like this. With one last push of his hips Astarion bottoms out, his hips against her backside as they both moan at the contact.

“Do you think you could have been quiet while I fucked you? I’m not so sure you have it in you.” With a slow roll of his hips Astarion tests the feeling of her, his cock pulling out only to push back in with a sinful slowness until he’s once again filled her warmth, a sigh falling from his lips. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of. Besides, I thought you liked ‘the sound of your name cried from my lips’.” Rin moves her hips against his still form as she parrots his earlier words back to him, working herself up his cock before pressing back to take him fully before doing it again. 

The hands on her hips tighten, gripping harder as he stills Rin’s hips. “Oh, believe me, I do. And I intend to hear it tonight.”

Astarion pulls out of her once more before thrusting back in faster—harder—as he takes control, Rin’s head snapping up at the intensity of it, a wanton moan slipping past her lips as he sets pace.

She lasts several hard thrusts on her hands below lowering herself to her elbows, the intensity drawing cries from her lips as he brushes against the deepest parts of her cunt, Astarion’s hands still on her hips as he drags her up and down his cock.

Only a few more after that she’s on her stomach, cheek pressed into the blanket underneath her as she moans his name just as he had wanted. He rubs against her front wall like this, hitting her sweet spot with every thrust in.

“Gods, yes, just like that,” Rin pants as his cock hits deep, eyes rolling back before her lashes shutter. She’s dizzy with pleasure, with him, as he fucks her the way he does in her dreams.

One of Astarion’s hands finds it’s way from her hip to her head, gathering her hair in his pale hand, strands of gold flowing through his fingers as he leans over her back, hips rolling endlessly into her own as his teeth nip at a pointed ear.

The hand in her hair tightens, pulling at the strands with a light tug. Rin moans at the slight sting on her scalp as she raises her head, more heat pooling as she straddles the line between pain and pleasure underneath him.

He cradles her head as he holds her by flowing waves of darkened wheat as his hips rock into hers. “Do you like this, darling?”

Rin’s past any point of caring for how she must look to him, how desperate and aching and wanting she must seem as she nods her head, lips falling open as breathy little moans escape. Astarion’s chest presses hard against the curve of her spine, the coolness of his skin a balm against the heat of her own as his hips roll into hers, that hand in her hair still cradling as his face lowers down next to hers. 

“You feel so very good.” Astarion’s lips find her neck as he presses a kiss to her throat, the blood thrumming through her veins singing as he ghosts over her pulse.

“Drink,” Rin angles her neck to his mouth as her hips keep in time with his own, meeting his every thrust. “If you want to.”

“Always so generous.” Astarion moans into her neck before his fangs break through her fragile skin, the icy flash of pain only adding to the heat diffusing throughout the rest of her as he drinks.

His hips give a particularly hard thrust as he sucks at her neck, a ragged cry falling from her lips as his cock hits the deepest parts of her once more and rivulets of pomegranate-dark blood run down her overheated skin.

“You taste…” Astarion speaks in between sucking at the wound, hips unstopping. “Beyond comprehension. Every part of you.”

The hand not buried in her hair sneaks its way underneath her hips, fingers finding her clit as his mouth works at her neck and his hips continue their perfect rhythm, and Rin finds herself suddenly close to the edge once more and her climax within reach. 

“Astarion…”

“Come on my cock.” Rin doesn’t know if its a demand, an order, or a want, but she will gladly oblige him as his hand strums at her clit from under her raised hips, her cunt tightening around his cock in a vice as she comes once more, writhing underneath him as he has her pinned.

All it takes is for Rin to constrict around him for him to come, Astarion burying his face into her neck as she spills himself inside of her, her blood coating his cheek as he moans his release into her wet, sticky skin.

Their hips slow as they come down, Astarion’s weight pressing into her as he pants into her neck, the hand in her hair finally loosening. Rin lowers her own to the blanket, heartbeat rabbit quick as she smiles dreamily, the blood loss addling her brain as she rests with a hazy sense of wonder.

The hand pinned underneath her hips escapes as Astarion licks the remaining blood still stuck to her neck, leaving a last kiss for rolling off her to land on his back with a contented, sated sigh. 

Astarion glances over to where she still lays on her front, eyes cataloguing the sight of her—cheeks flushed, lips bitten, drops of ruby red blood splattered over both warmed skin and mussed curls. “You look like an absolute mess, darling. Who would ever do such a thing to you?”

“Hm. I wonder who.” Rin forces her eyes open and manages a laugh at the blood coating his chin and neck.

Her eyes close once more as Astarion rummages through the small pack he had brought, the soft rustle of fabric and the clinking of something glass resonating through the quiet garden. 

Rin starts when she feels the wet, chilly cloth run between her legs, gently wiping away they spend that slowly spills from her, her eyes flashing open to see Astarion folding the cloth to run it now against the bite mark on her neck, dabbing at the drying blood on her skin.

“See, no scary monsters managed to attack us and ruin the moment.” Rin ignores the obvious tut in his voice and smiles anyway as Astarion turns the cloth onto himself, wiping away the blood coating his chin.

Rin can’t help but think that something about this time feels so much different than their first—lighter somehow, despite the darkness that surrounds them. She sits up with a smile, stretching her arms above her head as she reaches for her shirt.

“Don’t speak too soon Astarion, we’re still naked. There’s still plenty of time for an ambush.”