#you know what now that i think about it? i can see Shadowheart in most of these too
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invinciblerodent · 11 months ago
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going slightly feral today for characters who don't think of themselves as being "~into~" touch and physical intimacy suddenly discovering that they actually are, in like an embarrassingly huge way
"oh fine, I'll indulge you, but I'll have you know that I'm not exactly cuddly, darling. 🙄" (proceeds to wrap themselves around their partner in their sleep like a boa constrictor) (yes this becomes a regular occurrence)
"no dear, I don't like hugs" (does, in fact, melt into each embrace with a soft sigh and eyes sliding shut, all gooey inside like a person-shaped fudge brownie)
"how juvenile. I'm not ticklish, I'm not a child. 😒" (starts convulsing with stifled laughter if their partner as much as wiggles their fingers in their general direction) (no they are very cool I promise)
"don't touch me 😒" (secretly pouts when their explicit wish is respected. no wait come back i didn't mean don't as in don't, i meant it as try harder. yes i know that's counterintuitive. no you should read my mind exactly. how is that even hard--)
"*makes a longing 🥺 face every time their partner is doing something just out of their reach, wanting to touch them but not wanting to come off as ~needy~*" (scoffs and turns away when asked if they want a hug) ((that means "yes please"))
"ugh, fine, but if you ruin my hair--" (all but tears up at having their scalp gently scratched. finds that they do not give a solitary shit about their hair now, actually.) (yes, they will now regularly plop their head in their partner's lap as a silent request for scritches. they're not cuddly, though.)
will not hold hands. will, however, knock shoulders while walking. (it means try again. it means please never stop trying.)
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Mating Season
Halsin x Female Reader | sexual frustration | sexual tension | growly bear halsin | totally adoring halsin | horny bear mating instincts | semi-shifted sex | fluff | smut | nsfw
How Halsin’s romance might have played out if we could have had his kisses, adoration, and been totally railed senseless by Oak Daddy from the end of Act I. An ode to Halsin’s hairy chest, big arms, and the vein that I know stands out so thickly on his *muffled horny noises*
After a long and tiring day of fighting off goblins as you search for the Githyanki Crèche, you groan in relief as you sink into the cool waters of the river. Everyone else is back at camp and you’re able to enjoy the currents swirling around your naked body. 
You float in the water, thinking about how much your party has grown in the past few weeks. First Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion, then Lae’zel, Wyll, and Karlach, and finally Halsin, the wildshape druid you rescued from the goblins. He’s a focused member of the group, a valuable healer, and an unstoppable force in battle. You occasionally feel things turning against you in a fight, and then Halsin is there, supporting the group and laying down swathes of flame, lightning and ice. His bear shape never fails to strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. 
Around the fire at night, he talks openly about his quest to free the Shadow-Cursed lands, his admiration for the party, and his praise for your leadership. His gentle words about you have your body prickling with awareness of his. 
That warm smile of his. His large and clever hands. His deep, gentle voice. Everything about this man makes you tingle all the way down to your toes. Whenever you think his gaze is lingering on your mouth, he murmurs goodnight to you and leaves your side. You watch him go, wishing that instead he would reach out and touch you.
An angry, snarling sound fills the air and you sit up in the water. Not far from you, an enormous bear, grunting and breathing hard, walks heavily down the riverbank. It’s huge, and its muscular body blocking out the setting sun, and from the noises it's making and its attitude, it’s a hair's-breadth from lashing out at anything that moves. 
You freeze, not daring even to breathe, hoping with everything you have that the animal will turn around and head back the other way. Instead, it launches itself into the water with an almighty splash. 
As it disappears beneath the surface, you notice a faint scar over the bear’s right eye, as if it’s been clawed. You recognize that scar. 
Wait, is this--
Golden light flashes. The water seethes. A man stands up where there was a bear just moments ago, water cascading from his body. Halsin, and he must have stripped before he changed into wildshape for now he’s completely naked, standing hip-deep in the water. 
He’s partly turned away from you but you can tell his manner is no less worked up than it was in bear form. He swipes his hands angrily through his dripping hair and breathes hard, the muscles of his shoulders and arms clenched in frustration. 
Halsin is one of the gentlest-natured men you’ve ever met, most of the time. Like nature, he too can be wild, his eyes flashing and his voice breaking like thunder over you when he’s frustrated or disappointed, such as when he was remonstrating Kagha for the Rite of Thorns. How magnificent he was that day. 
But what is he restless for now? He stands in the water, looking around at the forest, gripped with frustration, and when he turns a little more your way you can see that the root of his cock is thickened in a tell-tale manner. 
Ah. 
That kind of frustration. 
You quietly make your way to the edge of the river where a willow tree is trailing in the water, moving as carefully and as quietly as you can. This feels like a private moment you’re intruding on. Even though you don’t mean to spy, it feels like you are. The fronds of the willow provide a little cover for you, and hopefully Halsin will cool off and leave the way he came. 
The dice do not roll your way this evening as he approaches you, seeking deeper water. A moment later, your gazes lock, and his eyes widen in surprise.
‘What are you doing there?’
‘I wasn’t spying on you,’ you tell him quickly. ‘I thought you needed some peace, so I was waiting here quietly.’
His eyes run over you, your back pressed against the river bank and cowering amid the willow leaves. 
Halsin heaves a regretful sigh. ‘I frightened you, didn’t I? I am sorry. It’s all right, I am myself again.’ 
He smiles and holds out his hand. It’s a tight smile, like he’s forcing it for you, but you’re no longer worried a bear is about to disembowel you.  
You place your cool fingers into his large, hot ones and let him draw you slowly out of your hiding place. The water is deep enough here that your nakedness is covered, and so is his.
You relax as you gaze up at him, enjoying the sensation of Halsin holding your hand. Quietly enjoying the sight of his bare chest and handsome face. You hope he might walk you into the shallows so you can be naked together, but he remains in deep water, sunk in thought.
‘The river is yours. I’ll leave you to enjoy it,’ you murmur, and glance to where you left your clothes. 
Halsin’s fingers are still tightly twined through yours beneath the water. He seems to be in a world of his own as he gazes at your mouth, your throat, the droplets of water sliding through your wet hair and down your shoulders. A world that includes you. A world where you’re touching one another. 
‘Halsin?’ you ask tentatively. Hopefully. If he wants to move closer and kiss you, that’s more than okay with you. After a long and dusty day, there’s nothing you’d like more than exploring his body in the cool water. That hairy chest of his. His hard muscles. You long to run your tongue over him. Flex your fingers on his biceps. Trace the red tattoo on his cheek.
Halsin comes back into himself with a deep inhale, and he lets go of your hand. ‘Then I’ll see you back at camp.’ He moves away from you through the currents. 
As you push the water from your body and dress in your clothes, you search for Halsin in the river, but he’s disappeared around a bend. 
***
Later around the campfire, you’re hyper aware of Halsin as you talk with Gale about his home in Baldur’s Gate. Halsin is silent, the campfire flickering over his handsome face. You try not to pay him any more attention than you do the others, but your interest in him has spilled over into blazing attraction.
Your gazes lock and Halsin’s brows are drawn tightly together. 
Is he glaring at you? 
A moment later he gets to his feet and, unnoticed by the others, slips away into the darkness. Something’s eating at that man and you wish you knew what.
A short time later, you take a bottle down to the river to refill it with water before turning and heading for your bed. As you round the corner of the ruin where you’ve made your camp, you run straight into Halsin. 
His eyes widen and they flare with heat and surprise, and then he quickly looks away and moves past you.
‘Have I done something to make you angry with me?’ you call after him. 
Halsin stops dead. He stares straight ahead for a moment, and then slowly turns to you, shaking his head. ‘Far from it. I am worked up and frustrated, but not with anger.’
Maybe his frustrations are because of you, and that’s a thought you don’t know what to do with when he keeps avoiding you. 
Not knowing what else to say, you tell him, ‘We will free the Shadow-Cursed lands soon. I know we will.’
He breathes out heavily, his expression troubled. ‘I’m not thinking of the Shadow-Curse right now, even though I should be. It is more important than anything I...’ He trails off, but his gaze lingers on your mouth. ‘...want.’
Halsin steps closer, and you feel the heat blazing off his chest. His warmth and bulk are so welcoming and you crave to reach out and touch him. The backs of his fingers caress your hair. The lightest of touches. Then he takes a handful of your hair and dips his head, bringing the strands to his nose. 
‘You smell wonderful.’ He heaves a deep sigh, and whispers, ‘Can I hold you for a moment?’
That sounds lovely to you, and you nod. 
Halsin wraps an arm around your waist, scoops you against him, and buries his face in your neck. ‘By Silvanus, your scent is sweet,’ he groans. ‘I caught it when we first met, in that foul goblin nest. How it pleased me. Getting to know you these past few weeks has been even sweeter.’
Your hands are plastered against his chest and so is your body. He’s saying everything you hoped to hear. More than you hoped to hear. He has such a beautiful way with words. You turn your head so he can kiss you, but he still refrains. 
Taking a ragged breath, he releases you and steps back. ‘I’m sorry. It’s always difficult this time of year.’
You miss his warmth so much that you shiver. ‘What time of year?’
He gazes at you for a long time. ‘You may laugh, but I’ll tell you. It’s bear mating season.’
You don’t laugh, but your eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
‘I know--I’m no bear,’ Halsin says with a laugh of his own, ‘but I spend so much time in wildshape that bear instincts tug on my heart and...other parts of me. I return to my own form and unfortunately the needs do not dissipate. In fact, they worsen, because it is not a bear I want. When she comes close to me smelling like spring and honey and warm sunshine I can’t help but crave her.’ A smile glimmers on his lips.
Enough being vague. You want to hear him say it. You step closer and put a hand against his chest. ‘A general someone, or anyone in particular?’
He groans softly and captures your face in his hands. He drinks you in and swipes his thumb across your lips. The gesture is soft, and full of the promise of his kiss.
‘You are someone I admire and I think I could grow to care deeply about,’ he murmurs. ‘I care about you so much already. Any little scratch you receive I want to push Shadowheart out of the way and tend to you myself.’
Your heart soars.
‘But this isn’t how or when I wanted to begin anything with you. I have to walk away.’
Disappointment plummets through you. 
He’s still holding your face and his expression is conflicted. It seems he wants to put an end to this for now but can’t bring himself to do it. 
‘I can walk away, if that helps?’
His eyes fill with gratitude and longing. ‘Please. That would be a mercy. Know that when the time comes, I will come to you with more than lust in my heart.’
You nod, trailing your fingers down his chest as you step back, but you fail to see what’s wrong with him desiring you. ‘Whatever you need. Of course.’
‘I hope I haven’t offended you.’
You smile gently at him. ‘Your desire is so far from offensive. Please know that I don’t demand more of your attention than you’re willing to give. The Shadow Cursed lands are your priority and I’m...’ How to put this delicately? I’m here for you and you can rail me senseless in between your duties whenever you want to let off steam. That’s what you want to say, but you’re too shy to say it. ‘...Here. Your friend. Always.’
Halsin seems to catch your meaning anyway as his jaw flexes and he nods slowly. 
You promised him you would walk away, and you do, and though you give him ample time to allow him to pull you back, the next sound you hear is a clash and a growl, and a flare of golden light. When you glance over your shoulder, a bear is thundering into the woods on all fours. 
***
A few days later, you’re returning to camp feeling like you’ve been put through a meat grinder, and your companions haven’t fared much better. Gale is unusually silent and covered in blood. Shadowheart is exhausted and dragging her feet. You’re trying not to limp because she and Halsin have already cast so much healing magic. Something’s wrong with your leg, but you’ll see to it yourself when you’re alone. 
The others bid you tired farewells as they head for their tents, but someone catches your arm and holds you back.
‘Oak Father, you’re bleeding. Why didn’t you say anything?’ 
Halsin is staring at your legs, and you stare with him. Blood is pooling around your foot. Oh, that’s not good. 
‘I can tend to it myself after I’ve had some rest--’
Your words are cut off as the massive druid picks you up in his arms and carries you into a crumbling barn. Automatically, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean against the solid bulk of his chest. Halsin lays you down on a pallet and helps you remove your armour, revealing a ragged gash on the top of your thigh. Your clothes have to be cut away until your legs are bare.
Halsin looks exhausted and has dark circles under his eyes. It seems he’s been taking little rest as he roams the forests nightly as a bear. When he reaches for you to lay healing hands on your wound, you place a hand on his wrist.
‘You don’t have to do this right now. I’ll bandage myself up and someone can heal me after they’ve rested.’
Halsin raises challenging eyebrows at you. ‘You believe I don’t have the strength to heal you myself? That I’ll walk away from the most important person in my life and leave her bleeding?’
You moisten your lips, trying not to show how much his words have affected you. The most important person in his life? Suddenly you don’t feel injured at all, and he hasn’t even healed you yet.
‘I have more than enough magic left for this. Now, lay back and let me do my work, and then you can get back to yours.’
You settle back on the pallet and gaze at the cobwebby rafters. Halsin’s hands hover over your thigh, and a warm, delicious feeling spreads through your leg, and then up between your thighs. Your head falls back in relief and pleasure. 
Even Halsin makes a surprised noise. ‘That felt...’ He rubs your now-healed high, massaging the last of the tension and pain from your muscles. ‘That felt different. How’s your thigh now?’ 
You can’t help but moan and arch your back a little at his touch. ‘Good.’ Your voice comes out in a breathy whisper.
‘Just good?’ He strokes his palm over where there was a cut just moments ago. 
‘Halsin, please, you make me feel heavenly,’ you whimper. The words pass your lips without thinking. You reach up to take hold of his shoulders so you can pull him down to kiss you, but pull back before you can touch him. 
This isn’t what he wants. Your hands clench on the pallet, feeling your core ache with need. As soon as he leaves, you can get yourself off thinking about him. 
‘Would you like me to go?’ he asks softly. 
‘I never want you to go.’
His hand rests lightly on your leg. 
You open your eyes and gaze up at him, and he’s sitting so close to you. ‘But if you stay, you’re going to see me touching myself.’ Then you smile at him, remembering your last conversation. ‘I would love for you to see that. As a friend.’
You want him to see you. You want him to participate.
He smiles and leans down to you, and runs the blade of his nose up your cheek. ‘I can’t think of anything more wonderful after a long, hard day, my dear friend.’
Halsin lays down beside you and props his head against his fist. With gentle fingers, he helps you to drag your underwear down your legs and cast them aside. As your teeth sink into your lower lip, you gently touch yourself, your eyes on his handsome face. Halsin strokes your thighs, your stomach, finds the fastenings on your clothes and loosens them. As he pulls back your bodice, revealing your breasts, he lowers his head to take one of your nipples in his mouth. 
You cry out and flex up into him. Heat is gathering within you. You suck on your lower lip and release it. ‘Please--your fingers--I need--’ you manage between pants. You can barely get the words out, but he understands. Halsin drags two fingers through your sex, making them slippery, and then sinks them inside you. 
Another loud cry from you. Gods, he feels perfect.
Halsin groans and kisses your throat, murmuring, ‘You’re so tight around me. Have you been as frustrated as I am?’ He pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, slowly at first, and then faster.
Yes you have, the godsdamned stubborn bear of man. He should have pulled you into his arms that day in the river and let you suck all the frustration from his body out through his cock. 
‘So frustrated,’ you whimper. ‘Please, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’ 
He brushes his lips over yours. ‘I won’t stop. You’re always so beautiful, but like this, all of nature pales in comparison.’
You reach down and lay your hand over his wrist, adoring the tension and flex of his muscles in his arm as he moves inside you. Your fingers keep moving on your clit as you moan and cry out his name, and when you come you dig your nails into his flesh, and press your feet into the ground so he can fuck you even harder with his fingers.
When you fall back exhausted, Halsin sits up and spreads your thighs open, trailing his fingers over your sex and drinking in the sight of you as you catch your breath. ‘Your body is wondrous.’ He leans over and kisses you, his tongue caressing yours. ‘Will you rest well tonight?’ 
You nod, feeling drunk from his kiss and your climax. 
He smiles. ‘Then I’ll rest well too, knowing that you’re sleeping soundly. Thank you for sharing this beautiful moment with me.’
As he sits up, you notice that he’s hard inside his tight pants. Excessively hard. Huge in fact. He shouldn’t be leaving, he should be pulling off his clothes and pounding the living daylights out of you until he also gets the release he needs. 
But he’s gone before you can call him back to you. That’s not why he just blew your mind, was it? He healed you, and now he wants you to get some rest. Druid’s orders, apparently. 
You smile and roll over, and fall into a doze. 
***
The next morning, before anyone has arisen, Halsin finds you coming back from the river. You smile at him, thinking he looks so handsome in the morning light, and you expect him to keep moving past you. Instead, he stops and smiles at you, as if basking in the sight of you is all he wants right now. 
‘May I have a kiss?’ you ask hopefully. Perhaps he’s decided not to want anything for himself right now, but he still wants to make you happy. 
Without needing to be asked twice, Halsin grasps you around the waist with his large hands and walks you back against the wall, kissing you enthusiastically. ‘I can still smell you on my fingers this morning. I could smell you all night. You are a delight.’
Your lips part for his so he can kiss you even deeper. With your arms around his neck, you revel in the sensation of his mouth on yours. 
‘I find you irresistible.’ Another kiss. ‘But we have much to do today.’ Another kiss. 
‘We do,’ you say, smiling as he kisses you again. 
He gazes down at you for a moment, a slight frown between his brows. ‘If you need more, know that I won’t be offended if you take another lover. Nature intends for us to roam and be free.’
You have considered that, if not someone at camp, then a handsome stranger at a tavern, but you’d only be thinking about Halsin the whole time. ‘And if I don’t want to?’
‘You must do as pleases you,’ he replies, and kisses you again.
You guess that he didn’t tell you this for idle reasons, but to let you know about his own preferences. You reach up and stroke your fingers through his russet hair. ‘I have always wanted my own person, but to roam with them. Share everything with them. I would miss you too much if I was to roam without you.’
He smiles down at you. ‘Us, with others? I would like that, in time. You’re more than enough for me, but I wouldn’t wish for you to be denied anything. Seeing you with another lover, and participating as well...it sounds wonderful.’ Then he steps away from you. ‘But we are getting ahead of ourselves. My thoughts turn to other things for now. But they will turn back to you.’
With a final warm squeeze of your hand, he leaves you, but your heart is lighter than it’s been in a long time. 
***
Two nights later, you’re awoken by snarling and roaring in the distance, and you sit bolt upright. It sounds like two large animals are fighting in the woods. 
Only Astarion is awake. ‘What a ridiculous racket,’ he mutters with a scowl, before licking his thumb and turning the page of the book he’s reading. 
You look over at Halsin’s pallet, knowing it’s going to be empty before you lay eyes on it, but your stomach drops just the same when you see that it is. You scramble to your feet and set off at a run into the darkness. 
You follow the roaring and snarling and it doesn’t take long to find two bears fighting with teeth bared and swipes of their claws. You recognise Halsin from the scars over his eye.
What can you do to help him? A spell? A cantrip?  
Before you can decide, Halsin swipes the other bear so hard across the snout that it reels back, and then turns and runs away into the woods. 
Halsin paces up and down for a moment, and then golden light ripples, nearly blinding you, and when you open your eyes again, he’s striding toward you. His chest is heaving and blood is pouring from scratches and bites across his shoulders and throat. Nothing life threatening, but he’d be in pain if he wasn’t so angry.
‘That bear was looking for a mate, and I wasn’t having it prowling around her when I haven’t even tasted her myself.’
Halsin when he’s feeling himself wouldn’t say something so uncharacteristically possessive. It must be the mating season instincts overriding his natural feelings. ‘That bear wouldn’t have been interested in me.’ Also, you could have tasted me by now if you’d wanted to.
He doesn’t seem to have heard you as he glares into the darkness. Suddenly, he rounds on you. ‘It’s dangerous out here. You shouldn’t have come. Go back to bed.’
You fold your arms and stay where you are. The big alpha bear can throw his weight around, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to jump to obey his commands. ‘Shouldn’t have come? Would you have ignored me if I was being attacked in the woods?’
Halsin takes a deep breath and some of the anger melts from his face. He pushes his hands through his hair and shakes his head. ‘Of course not, I would never abandon you like that. Thank you for coming out here to help me. I promise I’m not ungrateful. I’m all out of sorts because...’ He gestures vaguely at himself and the woods around you both. 
You smile at him. ‘I know. It’s mating season.’
You help him pick dirt and gravel out of his cuts before he casts healing magic on himself, but you’re not ready to leave him and go to bed. The river is close by and you take his hand and lead him to the water. 
‘Let’s wash the blood and dirt off you.’
At the riverbank, hesitantly you reach for his clothes. He says nothing but he’s watching you with such intensity, and so you find the fastenings and help him out of them. With gentle fingers, he does the same for you. The night air is warm and still. Crickets are chirping and the river makes gentle rushing noises. The two of you are standing so close that you’re breathing each other’s breaths. His massive chest lifts and falls. Your nipples tighten with awareness of him. You don’t want to stare but you can’t help but look at this beautiful man as you undress him. 
Halsin helps you out of your underwear, and his cock bumps against your thigh. He’s so hard that he’s standing to attention, his foreskin drawn back, a drop of pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters, and you want to run your tongue along the thick vein that stands out on his shaft.
‘Sorry. Ignore me,’ he mutters. 
You don’t want to ignore the most beautiful cock you’ve ever seen, but you keep your hands to yourself and look up at him. ‘I want to feel flattered. Should I feel flattered?’
‘You know I think you’re wonderful,’ he breathes, caressing your face. 
Oh, by all the gods, then fuck me, please. 
‘Would you want me even if it wasn’t mating season?’
‘Of course I would, though I’d probably be better at keeping that to myself. You wouldn’t awaken to hear me fighting other bears in the woods, or see me staring at you with longing across the campfire. I’d still feel the same way, but I wouldn’t be so obvious about it. Probably.’
‘Do you mind that mating season makes you feel and act this way?’
He smiles and shakes his head. ‘It is who I am, and another connection I have to nature.’
‘Halsin. For a wildshape druid who believes in going with what’s natural, you’re very stubborn about resisting what your body is telling you it wants.’
A smile curves his lips. ‘You may be right. I’ve told myself that focusing on the Shadow Curse is the right and only thing to do, but...’
Halsin ducks his head and slants his mouth over yours. The kiss is so fierce and sudden, and pleasure takes a swan dive through your body. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you to him.
‘This isn’t how I imagined things between us,’ he murmurs. ‘I intended to come to you after the curse is lifted and declare my feelings for you, and tell you that my unburdened heart is yours.’ 
‘Please still do that,’ you breathe, planting soft kisses again and again on his mouth. ‘I would love that. But don’t walk away from me now.’ 
‘You want me, even though my mind is often on things other than you?’
What a romantic Halsin is, wanting to give you his whole heart at once, or nothing at all. ‘Of course I do,’ you tell him, your fingers stroking his bare back. You don’t need that declaration yet. You just need him. 
Halsin lifts you in his arms and carries you into the water, gazing into your eyes. The water flows around your bodies as he kisses you and places you on your feet.
He nods at something over your shoulder. ‘I have to taste you. Turn around and put your hands on that rock.’
You do as he asks, standing thighs-deep in the water and bent over with your hands braced against the river bank. Halsin kneels down in the water and cups your ass. 
‘So beautiful...’ You feel his tongue run up your sex, and you moan and close your eyes. He’s slow and languorous about it. Not trying to make you come, just tasting you thoroughly and enjoying the sensation of you against his tongue. 
Halsin stands up and when you glance over your shoulder you see him gazing at your sex as he strokes you with his fingers and fists his cock slowly up and down. 
‘Can I have you, sweet one?’ he asks huskily. 
‘Please, gods, yes .’ You’ll go crazy if he holds back a moment longer.
You feel him step closer, and the blunt head of his cock slides against your slippery entrance. He feels alarmingly thick and you take a deep breath and try to relax. 
With a muttered oath, he sinks into you. As much of him as he can, anyway. Gods, he’s a lot . You walk your feet apart, trying to accommodate more of him. 
‘Too much?’ he asks, hesitating. 
You shake your head desperately. ‘Not too much. More, please.’
He fucks you slowly, working himself deeper by delicious increments, while your cries fill the night air along with his ragged breathing. His blunt nails scratch your flesh. He roughly squeezes handfuls of your ass. 
You reach down between your legs and touch yourself, and you grow wetter and wetter, allowing him to fuck you in long, smooth strokes. Every single one makes your insides light up. Your orgasm is barrelling down on you surprisingly fast. 
‘Please, fuck me hard, I’m going to come,’ you beg him. 
Halsin groans and takes your hips in a secure grip and slams into you, over and over, hard, brutal and heavenly thrusts. You push against the rock to hold you steady as a wild, untamable sensation crashes over you, and you cry out loud enough for the whole forest to hear you. 
Your head is hanging low and you’re panting as you feel Halsin draw out of you.
‘But you haven’t come,’ you protest, straightening up and turning around. It’s what you want, to see and feel this beautiful man let go. 
He takes your hand and helps you out of the river. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’
He lays back on the grass and pulls you astride him so your thighs are straddling him. ‘I want to see you like this as well.’
Hungry for more, you grasp his cock and sink down his length. Halsin groans and his head tips back, and he squeezes both your breasts in his large hands. His throat is so beautiful, and so is his chest. You draw patterns in his chest hair as you move up and down his length. 
Weeks of frustration and wanting him haven’t been fulfilled by one climax, and soon you feel another one gathering within you. He watches you with a smile as you desperately moan and pant his name. As your cries reach a crescendo, Halsin plants his feet securely against the ground and pushes sharply up into you, over and over, making you shatter around him even harder than before.
You collapse forward on his chest, weakened and helpless, his cock still lodged deep inside you. 
‘That was wonderful,’ you moan, your cheek plastered against his chest. ‘Give me a moment and we can change positions. I’m not stopping until you come.’
He rubs circles on your back. ‘I think I might shift into wildshape if we keep going. I can feel the need getting stronger and stronger.’ 
‘I don’t mind. Your bear form is pretty sexy.’
He laughs softly, a surprised sound. ‘Really? I’m pleased you think so.’
Even sexier is the way he looks while he’s changing, his body even bulkier and hair sprouting everywhere. ‘Can you change part ways?’
His hand stops moving on your back as he considers this. ‘I can. I think it might be easier for me to maintain that, rather than one or the other.’
Halsin rolls you both over until you’re on your back in the grass and pinned beneath him. With a heavy hand on your inner thigh, he pushes your knees up to your chest and thrusts deeper, and then again. 
‘By Silvanus, you feel wonderful,’ he pants.
A ripple goes through his body. His eyes turn fiercely golden. The hair thickens across his chest and spreads over his shoulders and down his arms. His top lip pulls back from his teeth, revealing thick incisors. His cock swells to what feels like twice its size inside you. You gaze at him in wonder. He looks incredible like this. 
As he continues to pump his cock into you, you press your hands against his muscular, hairy stomach, struggling to accommodate all of him. 
‘I’m hurting you,’ he realises, his voice more growl than words. ‘I can change back.’
‘No, don’t stop. Just slow down for a moment. It’s a good problem to have.’ You reach down to the place where you’re joined and wrap your fingers around his slippery thickness. Gods, that’s wonderful. So is his bulk looming over you and the rich, animal scent of his body. He thrusts carefully, watching you closely, his golden gaze roaming over you. 
‘So beautiful, sweet one,’ he rumbles. ‘Are you sure you like me like this?’
‘Yes, oh gods, yes.’
With every thrust, it’s getting easier for him to slide his whole length deep inside you, and pleasure stabs through you every time he bottoms out. 
You reach up and cup his furred cheek. ‘I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re even sexier like this. How does it feel for you?’
He groans and seems to take courage from your words. ‘Like I’m finally free. No longer fighting what I crave.’ The speed of his thrusts pick up, and he devours you hungrily. ‘You’re so good to me.’  
His breathing becomes a throaty snarl. His claws dig lovingly into your thigh. His hips move in a relentless rhythm, long thrusts, and then shorter, urgent ones, and you can tell he’s nearing his peak. You hold onto his shoulders for dear life as his body stiffens and his climax breaks through him, and he throws his head back.
With a groan, he sinks down onto his elbow and buries his face in your throat. As you hold him tight, you feel him shift back to his human form, his skin smooth and damp with perspiration. 
Halsin lifts his head and kisses you. ‘I’ve never done anything like that before. Was it all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
You hasten to assure him that he didn’t and it was everything you wanted.
He smiles. ‘How wonderful you are.’
You stroke his sweaty hair back. Neither have I. You’re so beautiful always, and especially seeing you like that, through wildshape eyes.’
He rolls onto his side in the grass and wraps both his arms around you, keeping you tight against his chest. ‘I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. The world feels so much better now I have you in my arms.’
‘How long does mating season last?’ you ask. You hope it’s a long time, and he needs you often. 
He laughs, a deep sound reverberating through his chest. ‘It’s every moment I lay eyes on you, sweet one.’
‘I hope that I haven’t distracted you from your duties.’
He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m more motivated than ever.’
You lay like that together in the grass until Halsin feels your cooling body shiver. 
He helps you to your feet and draws you into his arms for one last, tender kiss. Cradling your face in his hands, he murmurs, ‘You are the person I admire most in the world. I feel honoured by every moment I spend by your side.’ He kisses you again. ‘Know that I can’t wait until I’m able to tell you that my whole heart is yours.’
Thank you so much for reading. Please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Or tell me how the Halsin brainrot is affecting you while playing BG3. I have just about no braincells left by now. Only Daddy Bear remains. 
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avocado-writing · 9 months ago
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For the bg3 requests how about the companions realizing they love tav in the middle of a battle(love your work!!!)
partner piece to this!
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Astarion
realises when he sees you cut down someone in battle to save him.
you don’t think twice about beheading the cultist, or shooting them full of a magic missile, or stabbing them in the guts from the shadows - whatever you do is equally wonderful.
his eyes go wide as he watches you make the killing blow. warm blood spatters on his face and, when you shout to ask if he’s alright, his heart does a funny little dance in his chest.
he’s alright. he’s the most alright that he’s ever been, actually
kisses you suddenly, the taste of the kill dancing between your lips, and stares at you very sincerely.
“I love you.” then back to the battle before you can press it any further.
Gale
if you’re a spell caster, he falls for you because of your capability using magic. you have a knack for it he finds delightful.
the twirl of your hands, soft speaking as you recite verbal components, all of it - it’s all perfect.
he stares at you, distracted for a moment, and then gets a club in the side of the head and is catapulted back to battle.
if you’re not a mage then it’s when you do something he taught you, silencing an enemy wizard by cutting them off when you realise a somatic component. you shoot him a thumbs up and he feels his whole face go bright red.
you listen to him. you care about him. and he loves you.
Wyll
you’re fighting back-to-back, fending off enemies as they charge towards you, yelling out directions for the other one to be watching.
“wyll! big guy on your left!”
he turns and stabs, running through an orc, and hears you laugh from the exhilaration of battle.
he realises then how much he loves you, how he’d never have any other life than this heart-pounding, blood-pumping excitement with you; and he’d do anything to keep you safe.
there’s no time for him to confess right now… but he does reach behind himself to give your free hand a little squeeze with his. just so you know. just so he can come back to it and confess later.
Karlach
raging, so it’s less her thinking through it and more a series of realisations which come to her all at once.
you: fighting. you: protecting. you: protecting her. you: capable. you: loveable.
oh, it all slips into place. she can’t do anything about it right now because her axe is buried in the face of an ogre, but after the battle when she’s calmed down she seeks you out.
is a bit awkward about it, finds reasons to be near you, but you manage to work out what it is she is desperate to say.
give her a kiss, and she squeals with excitement. she thinks you’re just perfect!
Lae’zel
ahh, lae’zel. would she fall for you at any other time?
has always watched your form in battle but there’s something about today, this fight. she can’t keep her eyes off of you.
you are flawless. perfect. dispatching enemies with ease.
she realises she feels not just fondness for you, but love. something she did not believe that she’d ever experience.
she is a little distracted and gets hit, but that just makes her focus back on the battle. you check in with her afterwards and she brushes you off, stomping away to go and mull her feelings over.
is… scared to confess to you. may do it one day. not today.
Shadowheart
runs over to heal you during a battle, your wounds are great, but you shake her off:
”you’re in far worse condition than me! heal yourself first!”
she realises how hurt she is for the first time. she sort of learned to deal with the pain as she was raised sharran, but… you’re the one who’s taken notice of her. nobody has ever done that.
suddenly she is overwhelmed with feelings for you. she’d been soft for you before, but now she is overwhelmed with emotion.
she does heal herself, and then you - luxuriating in the feel of your skin under her hands.
Halsin
he’s already fond of you, but the thing that really gets him is during one particular battle.
you’re fighting and he can see you’re doing your best to protect something behind you from your assailants. during a moment when an enemy is down he sees what’s behind you: a baby boar, terrified.
not the most pleasant creature, covered in mud and squealing, but you still are attempting to shield it from the battle, and when the fight is over he sees you use magic to talk to it and calm it down, check it over for wounds.
he realises how smitten he is with you in that moment. how much you care. you are perfect, and he wants to spend his life with you.
Minthara
probably falls for you during an act of violence, a particularly bloody kill.
you show no mercy to your opponent, opening them from throat to navel, eyes bright as you see them bleed out.
you are an angel of death, vicious and proud. you smile at your kill and minthara finds herself smiling too.
charming. you are charming, and that’s all there is too it. she smiles through the rest of the battle at the thought of you.
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feyascorner · 1 year ago
Text
before my nails dig
summary. in which one of Astarion's especially vivid nightmares results in him waking up to Tav at the mercy of his own hands...and the shame that comes with it.
warnings. angst, fluff, comfort
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. someone pls get this man therapy that's all i ask,,, also this takes place sometime during act 3 before you confront cazador!! first post too so pls forgive typos
Had breathing always been this hard?
It's not like he had to breathe anyway. The undead have more perks than one would think, and having no need for air was one that became particularly useful in unexpected ways. Yet as he stands in Cazador's dungeon again--a place he longs to rid from the darkest corners of his mind--all he can do is stumble over his own breath, crimson eyes darting around frantically in search of an exit.
And suddenly, his siblings are at the mercy of the ascension, floating helplessly in the chains of a red aura--Cazador's aura. Despite the chaos, Astarion's eyes narrow in on the one pedestal with no occupant, and he realizes it's his own designated place.
It's getting harder to breathe now.
A breath creeps up behind his shoulder, sending pure dread throughout his entire body as he hears Cazador's voice far too close than he ever wanted it to be.
"Wake up, child. This is all you've ever been meant for."
Astarion whips around and lunges at the man, his hands wrapping viciously around the throat he's fantasized about ripping apart for the past two hundred years. His nails dig into the flesh of the vampire lord's neck, leaving indents in the shape of crescent moons, just enough to cause panic but not enough to draw blood. But Cazador only cackles, his eyes staring right into Astarion's as he hollers over and over again.
"Wake up."
"Wake up!"
"--Astarion!"
The spawn's eyes snap open, recognition finally flooding his expression as he finds himself staring down at you. The very face he sees in the softest of dreams, the lips he longs to kiss at every waking moment, and the eyes that gaze at him with the love and adoration he's been missing for most of his wretched eternal life. Though he'd never admit it, you saved him. From the moment he'd threatened your life at the nautiloid crash to the moment he held you close to his chest in the confines of his tent, he would be by your side until you tired of him and threw him away.
All he wanted--all he could wish for--was only a fraction of it in return. And you'd given him that, and so much more.
But now, you're scared. Terrified, even. Of him.
With horror, he realizes his fingers are digging into your throat. Your precious, tender throat that you offer him not for something in return, but simply because you care for him.
All at once as he tears his hands away, he wants to cut them off and bury himself in his own grave again. He doesn't meet your eyes, afraid of what disgust might be held in them, but he knows you're too kind for that. Too kind to see the kind of monster he is.
You're gasping for your breath, and his stomach knots in a way that would have sent him hurling if it weren't for the fact that he's too occupied drinking in what he's done. To you.
"I'm okay, I'm okay, Astarion," you choke out, perching on both your elbows as you struggle to recover. Even now, all you seem to care about is him. He almost hates you for it--hates you for not stabbing a stake through his heart the moment his hands met your neck. "Astarion-"
"Your throat," he croaks, despising the slight crack of his voice as he reaches for your cheek, but stops before he even gets close. He doesn't trust himself to open his mouth again.
"It's okay, really, I can just get Shadowheart to heal me," you shake your head, and he finds himself in disbelief as you crawl toward him, tossing the sheets to the side. He shifts the slightest away and you understand, immediately sitting back down. You look like you want to say something, but you close your mouth and watch him patiently, as if waiting for him to make the first move.
After a suffocating silence, he turns his back to you. "I'll be sleeping elsewhere tonight."
He intends of never sharing a room with you again, in fear of what he could possibly do to you as a result of his selfish desires to keep you close, and you seem to pick up on the tone of his words. You always do. "Astarion, please."
"I do apologize, sincerely. I'll form a better apology tomorrow, but for now, I'll fetch Shadowheart or that damned wizard and-"
He fights the urge to shiver when he feels your hand on his. How you manage to have such an impact on him with a simple touch he does not know, and does not care because all he wants is more. To pull you close, to beg you to keep him, to use him, to punch him, strangle him for all he cared, in hopes you'll even consider ever speaking to him again. Instead, he turns to look at you.
Gods, you're beautiful.
Even with those terrible bruises he'd go to hell and earth to take back, your beauty in unmatched with anything he's ever seen. Even with the bed hair and the anxiousness pursing your lips, he can't bring himself to look away again.
"Please stay. I'm not mad, nor afraid."
The words sound like honey on your tongue.
"Please," You say again, slowly this time. "Stay."
His chest feels tight, threatening to tear itself apart as his voice comes out in a crooked whisper. "I could have killed you."
"You didn't."
"If you died too, I don't know--what would I even do with myself? What would I-" He hates it when he sounds like this. Vulnerable, or as Cazador liked to call it: pathetic. But he can't help the words tumbling out his blasted mouth with the way you're gazing at him with nothing but worry. Somehow, with you, it feels strange.
Refreshing, almost.
Your hand squeezes around his as if to remind him you're still here. He meets your eyes again and it's all it takes to break what little will he has left, as he lets you pull him close in a crushing hug--one that's all too welcomed.
And as the two of you lie awake in each other's embrace, he thanks all the gods he doesn't worship for putting you on his path.
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eyebagshawty · 1 year ago
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Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.
Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav
A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!
Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin
Part 2
Lae’zel
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• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.
• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”
• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.
• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”
You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.
“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.
“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.
“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.
“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”
With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.
Karlach
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•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.
• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.
• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow
• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”
• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET
She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.
“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.
“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.
“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.
“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.
“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”
Shadowheart
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•She immediately says no
•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence
•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.
• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.
•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in
After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”
She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”
You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.
“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”
She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.
Wyll
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•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks
• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you
• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN
By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.
You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”
You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.
Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.
“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.
Gale
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• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen
• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea
• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”
• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan
• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent
When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.
He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.
“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.
“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I’m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.
They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.
Astarion
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• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him
• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things
• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care
• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has
• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled
When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.
Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.
“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.
“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.
“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.
“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.
“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”
You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”
Halsin
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• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you
• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys
• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”
• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things
You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.
On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.
“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.
“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.
“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.
You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”
He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.
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moonselune · 6 months ago
Note
Idea! Romanced Companions reacting to a shapeshifter attempting to seduce tav. Only when they transform to what tav is most attracted to, It's literally just an exact copy of whoever tav romanced
Something possessive jumped out of me when I was writing this so might be slightly different to what was expected hehe
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
Karlach was engrossed in a lively conversation with Wyll, her laughter ringing through the campfire-lit clearing. Their discussion about battle tactics and recent victories was abruptly interrupted when Karlach noticed a stranger approaching you. Instinctively, her hand moved to the hilt of her axe, her keen eyes narrowing with suspicion as the figure drew closer.
To her astonishment, the stranger transformed right before her eyes, taking on Karlach's own form. Anger flared within her as she watched the audacious shapeshifter assume her likeness in an attempt to seduce you. With a growl of displeasure, Karlach stepped between you and the imposter, towering over them with her imposing presence.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" she barked, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. She pointed a finger at the shapeshifter, her stance unyielding.
The shapeshifter stammered, clearly caught off guard by Karlach's fierce reaction. "I-I was just…"
"You were just making a big mistake," Karlach interjected, her tone low and dangerous. "There's only one Karlach, and you're looking at her, in all her glory. Get lost before I make you regret it."
With that, the shapeshifter wisely chose to retreat, disappearing into the shadows of the camp. Karlach turned to you, her expression softening as she approached, her arm wrapping protectively around your shoulders.
"You alright, babe?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. "Don't let these idiot cultists get to you."
You nodded, feeling a rush of gratitude for Karlach's fierce loyalty. "I'm fine," you assured her, leaning into her comforting embrace.
She brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "Good," she murmured, her fiery eyes meeting yours. "You're mine, and no one's going to mess with that."
Despite the intensity of the moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Let's get back to Wyll," she suggested, her voice returning to its usual strength. "He's probably lost without my expert advice."
As you walked back together, her arm still securely around you, you couldn't help but marvel at Karlach's protective nature and the depth of her affection. It was moments like these that reminded you just how fortunate you were to have her by your side, fiercely guarding your heart against any who dared to challenge her claim.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
Shadowheart knelt by the campfire, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tended to her wounds from the day's battle. The air around her was tense with the aftermath of combat, yet she remained focused on her task. Her keen senses alerted her to movement, and she looked up sharply to see a figure approaching – a figure that soon transformed into an exact replica of herself.
Her eyes widened momentarily in surprise, then narrowed with suspicion and barely restrained fury. Shadowheart stood up swiftly, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her dagger, her grip tightening with resolve.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Shadowheart's form, approached you with a disarming smile. "I know what you truly desire," they whispered, their voice honeyed with deceit as they closed the distance between you.
Shadowheart's voice cut through the air like a blade of ice. "You think you can deceive me?" Her tone brooked no argument as she stepped decisively between you and the impostor, her posture defensive and protective.
The shapeshifter faltered, caught off guard by Shadowheart's unwavering composure. "I-I can be what they want," they stammered, attempting to maintain their facade.
"You are nothing but a cheap imitation," Shadowheart hissed, her dagger gleaming in the firelight as she held it steady, a silent threat. "Begone, before I decide to end you."
Realizing the danger, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Shadowheart's unwavering determination. Once the threat had dissipated into the darkness of the camp, Shadowheart turned to you, her stance relaxing slightly though her guard remained.
"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. She reached out tentatively, as if uncertain of your reaction, yet her touch conveyed reassurance. "I won't let anyone come between us."
You nodded, grateful for Shadowheart's swift protection and unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you replied, feeling a rush of relief at her comforting presence.
She nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good," she murmured, her gaze meeting yours with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. "You're safe now."
As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows around you, you couldn't help but admire Shadowheart's strength and resolve. Her fierce protectiveness, combined with her vulnerability in moments like these, made you realize just how deeply she cared. In her own quiet way, she had shown you once again that you were not alone in this journey – that she would always stand by your side, ready to defend you against any threat, real or illusionary.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
Astarion reclined near the crackling campfire, idly sharpening a dagger with precise strokes when his keen senses alerted him to an approaching figure. His sharp eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched the stranger draw nearer, then gasped in disbelief as the figure transformed seamlessly into an exact replica of himself, down to the smug curve of his smirk.
The shapeshifter approached you with a confident stride, mirroring Astarion's sultry charm with unsettling accuracy. "Isn’t this what you desire?" they purred, their voice a distorted echo of Astarion's own, as they trailed a finger provocatively down your arm.
Astarion's amusement quickly turned to indignation. He sprang to his feet, dagger flashing in his hand as he closed the distance in an instant. "Flattery will get you nowhere, darling," he drawled, his tone laced with a dangerous sweetness that belied his lethal intent.
The shapeshifter blinked, clearly caught off guard by Astarion's swift reaction. "But I thought—"
"You thought wrong," Astarion interjected smoothly, pressing the dagger's tip against the shapeshifter's throat with a precise and threatening grace. "Leave now, before I make you regret ever coming here."
Realizing the gravity of the situation, the shapeshifter hastily retreated, their illusion shattered by Astarion's unwavering determination. Once the threat had evaporated into the shadows of the camp, Astarion turned to you, his expression softening as he approached with a hint of concern in his eyes.
"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked softly, his usual teasing edge softened by genuine worry. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."
You chuckled softly, reassured by his protective instincts and touched by his genuine concern. "I'm fine," you assured him, reaching out to squeeze his hand in gratitude for his swift defense.
Astarion smirked, the tension easing from his shoulders as he returned the squeeze. "Good," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes returning. "After all, no one can match up to the original, can they?"
He leaned in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "Though I must admit, seeing someone try to mimic my irresistible charm is quite flattering."
You rolled your eyes fondly, unable to resist teasing him back. "Oh please, you love it when someone tries to be as devilishly handsome as you."
Astarion chuckled, the tension of the moment dissipating into playful banter between the two of you. With his arm now draped casually around your shoulders, you felt a rush of warmth and reassurance. Despite the danger that had briefly intruded upon your camp, you knew you were safe in Astarion's capable – and occasionally teasing – hands.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Gale:
Gale sat cross-legged on a weathered log, deep in thought as he pored over the ancient tome spread out before him. The soft glow of arcane symbols illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced across the campsite. His scholarly reverie was abruptly shattered by the approach of an unfamiliar figure. His sharp intellect registered the anomaly before his eyes widened in disbelief as the figure transformed into an exact replica of himself, down to the intricate patterns of magical tattoos that adorned his skin.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Gale's form, exuded confidence as they strode towards you with a disarming smile. "I can be everything you need," they declared, their voice carrying the cadence of Gale's own scholarly certainty, reaching out as if to draw you closer.
Gale rose to his feet in one fluid motion, arcane energy crackling around his fingertips. His expression hardened with resolve as he stepped decisively between you and the impostor, his stance authoritative and protective. "This ends now," he stated firmly, his voice carrying the weight of command.
The shapeshifter blinked, momentarily taken aback by Gale's sudden assertiveness. "But I thought—"
"You thought wrong," Gale interrupted, his tone unwavering. "There is only one Gale, and you are not him."
With a flick of his wrist, Gale conjured a swirling vortex of arcane power that surged towards the shapeshifter, compelling them to retreat hastily, their illusion shattered. Once the threat had dissipated into the night, Gale turned to you, his features softening with genuine concern.
"Are you alright, my love?" he asked tenderly, his scholarly demeanor momentarily replaced by a gentler expression. "I can't have anyone thinking they can replace me."
You nodded, touched by Gale's protective instincts and grateful for his swift defense. "I'm fine," you assured him, stepping closer and reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm.
Gale's gaze softened further, his lips curling into a small, relieved smile as he covered your hand with his own. "Good," he murmured, his voice a quiet reassurance. "After all, there's no duplicating true scholarly prowess."
He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced back towards where the shapeshifter had fled. "Though I must admit, seeing someone attempt to replicate my intricate tattoos is rather amusing."
You couldn't help but smile back, grateful for Gale's steadfast presence and the depth of his affection. As you stood together amidst the lingering traces of magical energy, you knew that no matter the challenges that lay ahead, Gale would always be there – both scholar and protector, steadfast in his love for you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
Wyll sat cross-legged near the edge of the camp, his skilled hands methodically polishing the blade of his rapier. The glint of the campfire danced off the silvered steel, casting a flickering light over his focused expression. His senses on high alert, he noticed a figure approaching—a stranger whose form shifted before his eyes into an exact replica of himself, scar over the eye and all.
His grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of his rapier as he stood up, muscles tensing beneath his leather armor. His brows furrowed with suspicion as he took in the audacity of the shapeshifter's deception. "What kind of trickery is this?" Wyll demanded, his voice cutting through the quiet of the night like a blade of ice.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Wyll's form, smiled with an unsettling familiarity, attempting to mimic Wyll's charismatic charm. "I thought you might appreciate a familiar face," they said smoothly, extending a hand towards you in a gesture of false intimacy.
Wyll stepped forward, his posture protective and resolute as he positioned himself firmly between you and the doppelganger. "There is only one Blade of Frontiers," he declared sternly, his gaze unwavering. "And it’s certainly not you."
With a swift, practiced motion, Wyll unsheathed his rapier, the blade catching the firelight as he leveled it at the impostor with unwavering precision. "Leave now," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument, "or face the consequences."
Realizing their ruse was exposed, the shapeshifter hastily retreated into the darkness, their illusion shattered by Wyll's steadfast resolve. Once the threat had dissipated, Wyll turned to you, his demeanor softening as he sheathed his rapier and approached with gentle concern.
"Are you alright, love?" he asked tenderly, his usual confidence softened by genuine worry. He reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch warm and reassuring.
You nodded gratefully, comforted by Wyll's protective presence and touched by his unwavering loyalty. "I'm fine," you reassured him, offering a small smile to ease his concern.
Wyll returned the smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a mixture of relief and affection. "Good," he murmured softly, his hand lingering on yours as he squeezed it gently. "You know I'll always have your back."
As you stood together in the quiet of the camp, the crackling of the fire providing a backdrop to your shared moment, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for Wyll's courage and dedication. His swift defense against the shapeshifter had not only protected you physically but reaffirmed the depth of his love and commitment. In his arms, you knew you were safe and cherished—a feeling that strengthened the bond between you, forged amidst the trials of your journey together.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
Lae'zel's keen eyes scanned the perimeter of the camp with hawk-like intensity, her warrior's instincts finely attuned to any potential threat. When she spotted the approaching figure, her gaze narrowed with suspicion, and her grip tightened instinctively on the hilt of her sword. Her initial curiosity turned swiftly to ire as the figure transformed before her eyes into an exact replica of herself, mirroring her fierce demeanor and steely resolve.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Lae'zel's form, approached you with bold confidence, their voice echoing Lae'zel's commanding tone. "You know you can't resist me," they purred, their eyes fixed on you with unsettling intensity.
Lae'zel surged forward in an instant, her blade drawn and poised for battle. "You dare to mock me with this charade?" she spat, her voice laced with barely contained fury.
The impostor recoiled, caught off guard by Lae'zel's swift and ferocious response. They attempted to retreat, but Lae'zel pursued relentlessly, slashing at them with calculated precision. "There is only one Lae'zel," she declared fiercely, her strikes relentless and unforgiving. "And you are not worthy to even speak my name."
With a final swipe, the shapeshifter narrowly escaped, fleeing into the darkness with their illusion shattered by Lae'zel's unyielding determination. Once the threat had dissipated, Lae'zel turned to you, her expression softening marginally as she sheathed her sword and approached with a rare display of vulnerability.
"You are mine," she stated firmly, her voice holding a mixture of possessiveness and protectiveness. "Do not forget that."
You nodded, touched by the depth of Lae'zel's loyalty and the fierceness of her defense. Her unwavering commitment to your safety and her intense dedication resonated deeply, forging a bond between you that transcended words. As you stood together amidst the quiet of the camp, the tension of the encounter giving way to a sense of solidarity, you knew that with Lae'zel by your side, no challenge could threaten your connection or your shared journey ahead.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
Minthara's keen eyes swept the campsite with a vigilance honed by years of command, her gaze piercing through the shadows to spot the approaching figure long before they neared you. As the shapeshifter transformed into an exact replica of Minthara herself, duplicating her sharp features and the cold disdain in her eyes, Minthara's lip curled in unmistakable contempt.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Minthara's form, approached you with a calculated mimicry of her icy charm. "You know you desire me," they whispered seductively, their voice carrying the chilling allure that Minthara wielded like a weapon.
Minthara stepped forward with swift, purposeful strides, her presence imposing and her expression stone-cold. "You are a poor imitation," she hissed, her hand drifting to the hilt of her weapon. "And I do not tolerate pretenders."
The shapeshifter's facade wavered under the intensity of Minthara's glare, their confidence giving way to uncertainty. "I-I can be whatever they want," they stammered, attempting to salvage the illusion.
"You will never be me," Minthara snarled, her blade drawn now and pressed against the shapeshifter's throat with lethal intent. "Leave," she commanded, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "and pray I do not hunt you down."
With a final, chilling warning, the shapeshifter fled, their deception exposed and their retreat hastened by the threat of Minthara's wrath. As the tension of the encounter ebbed away, Minthara turned to you, her demeanor softening imperceptibly but significantly.
"You belong to me," she stated quietly, her voice a rare blend of possessiveness and vulnerability. "And no one else."
You nodded, feeling the weight of Minthara's protectiveness and the depth of her commitment. Her fierce defense of your bond left an indelible mark, solidifying the strength of your connection amidst the trials of your journey together. As you stood together in the aftermath, the firelight casting flickering shadows over the camp, you knew that Minthara's unwavering devotion would always be your steadfast anchor in the tumult of your shared adventures.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
Halsin knelt by a wounded animal, his hands tender and skilled as he tended to its injuries with the gentle touch of one intimately familiar with the ways of nature. His brow furrowed slightly as he sensed a disturbance, his keen senses detecting the subtle shift in the camp's atmosphere. Rising slowly, his movements deliberate yet fluid, he observed with a mixture of concern and determination as the figure in the distance transformed seamlessly into a perfect replica of himself.
The shapeshifter, now wearing Halsin's form, approached you with a disarming smile that attempted to mimic Halsin's warmth and wisdom. "I know what you like," they murmured softly, stepping closer with unsettling familiarity.
Halsin's voice resonated with quiet authority, his tone carrying the weight of years spent attuned to the natural rhythms of the world. "This deception will not stand," he declared firmly, his eyes unwavering as he moved closer to intercept the impostor.
Caught off guard by the real Halsin's presence, the shapeshifter faltered, their illusion cracking under the intensity of Halsin's gaze. As the druid's form shifted seamlessly into that of a bear, a low, menacing growl rumbled through the clearing, sending the impostor recoiling in fear.
The shapeshifter abandoned their facade in a panicked retreat, fleeing from the camp with the echo of Halsin's protective wrath still ringing in their ears. Returning to his elf form, Halsin approached you with a calm reassurance, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder.
"You are safe with me," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering unease of the encounter. "Do not let such trickery disturb you."
You nodded, grateful for Halsin's stalwart presence and the steadfast comfort he offered in the face of uncertainty. His unwavering commitment to your well-being and his innate understanding of the natural world were pillars of strength that grounded you amidst the shifting tides of adventure and intrigue that defined your journey together. As you stood together in the tranquil aftermath, the bond between you strengthened by each shared trial, you knew that with Halsin at your side, there was nothing you could not face with courage and resilience.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Hope y'all like it - Seluney xx
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thehistoriccemetery · 10 months ago
Text
BG3: Reader is Kidnapped/Tortured
This one started as a Shadowheart oneshot, but I decided to expand it to include Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara as well.
Let me know your favorites! I’m looking to expand more of my stuff into one shots, so it’s good information to have!
Content Warning for torture (obviously)
Shadowheart
When the days adventuring party returns without you, her blood immediately runs cold. They didn’t just come back without and leave you out there right?
When they inform her that you’ve been taken by the cloister, her face goes pale.
It takes Karlach and Wyll on either side of her to get her eased down onto a bedroll and breathing regularly. You were gone.
And to make matters worse, Viconia DeVir had you in her grip. Even with her amnesia, she could recall just how cruel the woman was.
The party had made great strides in passively finding clues about the location of the House of Grief, but they were still yet to find it.
Finding it had now jumped from a passive priority to the single most important thing they could be doing.
Shadowheart spent most of that night weeping in frustration at her inability to remember. She had grown up there for gods sake. The past 40 years at least had been spent in that damned house.
In the end, it was actually Astarion who finally discovered the sanctuary’s location. It was decided that he and Shadowheart would be the two best suited to sneak in and retrieve you.
When they found you, you were lying on the house’s marble floor, chained up to rigs that came out of the ground. The chain around your neck only barely allowed you to sit up to look at your rescuers.
“Shadowheart? Shadowheart is that you?” You whispered into the dark room. You could only see two silhouettes, but the quaffed elven hair of Asterion and the pointy crown of Shadowheart gave it away.
You instinctively tried to rush towards her, only to be stopped by the strain of your restraints. It didn’t much matter though, because Shadowheart was at your side in a matter of seconds.
She stroke your cheek, paying special attention to cut that stretched across your face. She was quick to move around to other parts of your body, stopping to carefully examine each of your wounds. Your restraints left you unable to reach out to her in anyway.
“Shadowheart, please, you have to get out of here, now,” you nearly cry. “They’re looking for you.” Astarion joins the two of you on the ground, getting to work at picking the several locks that held you in place.
It takes her a moment to register what you were saying. Her first thought is an obvious refusal, she’s not going anywhere without you.
But then the implications of your words dawn on her. They took you because they couldn’t find her. All of this torture you’ve endured, you’ve done it to protect her.
“Please Shadowheart,” you beg. “I swear I didn’t tell them anything. You’ll be safe at camp, just please go.”
Her head spins with newly uncovered memories of the torture she inflicted before the Nautaloid. She remembers how the Sharrans go about getting information from people.
“Astarion, how are coming along on those locks?” she ignores your pleas in favor of getting you free. Your upper body is now free, but he seems to be having trouble with your ankles.
“Patience, darling,” he quips, nearly earning him a slap across the face from Shadowheart.
Within the minute the shackles drop from your ankles, leaving you free to stand up on shaking legs. Shadowheart gives you a quick healing spell before asking “do you think you can make it back?”
You nod, following her and Astarion back the way they came in.
You had never been more excited to see camp than you were in that moment. You laid down face first on the plush Elfsong mattress. You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, and being tortured really took it out of you.
Shadowheart sat on the bed next to you. The fact that you laid down on your stomach did not bode well for the condition of your back.
She tugged gently at the hem of your shirt. “Arms up, love,” she cooed. You whined and crossed your arms over your chest. You didn’t want to show her what they had done.
“If you truly will not show me, I will get Jaheira to look after you,” she reasoned. “But, please, let me take care of you.” The second part was more a plea than anything.
Reluctantly, you lifted your arms and allowed her to pull the shirt over your head.
She did her best to remain stoic. She had seen endless wounds like this. She had inflicted endless wounds like this. But against her will, a sob choked its way up her throat.
The same back she had spent so many nights tracing and trailing with kisses was now so raw and bloodied, she wondered for a moment if you had any skin left.
She used every last bit of energy healing the wounds. By the time she was done she had exhausted herself too much to even make it back to her own bed.
She spent the night curled up around your legs, resting her head on your lower back. Viconia was going pay for what she’d done, she’d make sure of it.
Lae’zel
Lae’zel isn’t the usually the tactical planning type, but when you’re captured by Vlaakith’s army, she realizes this isn’t a kick-down-the-front-door type of mission.
This does not, however, make her any more patient during the planning process. The githyanki could have you floating halfway through astral plane by now.
Luckily, the gith as a whole aren’t known for their subtleties, so you’re not hard to track down.
Protection is thankfully slim enough that the party can pretty much strong arm their way to you.
When Lae’zel finds you are bound by some magical device that was, as loathe as she was to admit it, beyond her level of expertise.
You were at least conscious, which was truly remarkable given your condition. All your clothes were torn and bloodied, but the most concerning and blatant wound came for the side of your head.
Almost the entire left side of your face was completely covered in dried blood, all leading back to the gash on the side of your head that was once your left ear.
Lae’zel cursed, pointlessly kicking the arcane barrier.
You could see her shouting at Gale. Presumably she was impatiently rambling about freeing you, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying through the barrier.
All you saw was a long dagger that she pulled from her belt before storming off in the direction of your now dead captors.
Lae’zel was still gone when the party finally figured out how lower the barrier around you.
You stumbled out onto your knees and immediately found yourself surrounded by the party’s healers.
Lae’zel came stomping back moments later, carrying a small wooden bucket she didn’t have before. Likely she just found it somewhere around the gith camp.
She dropped the bucket at your feet without a word, leaving you to examine the contents for yourself.
You looked down into the bucket to find a dozen or so fleshy green ears.
You look back up at her, not sure whether to be honored or disgusted.
The smug look on her face let you know that this was certainly a gift she was proud of, so honored it is.
“Thank you. It’s nice to have plenty of choices when it comes to choosing my replacement.”
Karlach
Karlach really does try to be tactical most of the time, but you’ve been taken by none other than Lord Gortash himself.
And the idea that you are gone and she is here, at camp, while the others make a plan of how to rescue you? She can hardly contain herself.
She paces around camp, leaving a thick line of charred wood beneath her as she walks the same path over and over again.
Chewing her nails isn’t usually a nervous habit of hers but at this point she’s liable to chew her fingers off.
She logically knows it would do no good to come out guns blazing when you’re probably locked up behind the entirety of the steel watch, but worry and adrenaline nearly get ahead of her.
It is Shadowheart and Halsin who finally pull her from her thoughts. They have a plan, and much to Karlach’s relief it involves her. She was terrified they might agree upon a stealthier approach and ask her to stay behind.
She would have done it, if it were truly what was best for you. She might have burned up the entirety of the Elfsong Tavern by the time you finally got back though.
Luckily, since Karlach was mistaken by the steel watch as a defective watcher, she was actually best equipped to break in.
The plan, in whole, ran pretty smoothly. At least until the moment Karlach actually set eyes on you, bruised up and unconscious in the middle of a cell.
All bets were off after that. There was one thing that mattered and it was having you, safe with her again.
The minute it took Astarion to pick the lock was the longest of her entire life. She was nearly burning hot enough to melt through the bars herself.
The moment the door popped open, she was beside you, on her knees pulling you into her chest.
Shadowheart whisper-shouted behind her, reminding her to watch your neck and be gentle with your head. She carefully situated her large hand to cradle your head.
She rocked back and forth, trying to soothe her own panicked heart. “Hey bub, it’s me. I came to rescue you. I… please wake up. I’m here now. You’re safe.”
When you didn’t ever stir, Karlach looked up at Halsin and Shadowheart, eyes brimming with tears and worry. “They aren’t waking up. Why aren’t they waking up?”
Halsin joined Karlach on the ground, leaning to put his head on your chest. “Their heart continues to beat and their lungs draw breath, but they are weak. We must get them to camp.”
There was an incredibly brief argument about who was best fit to carry you, given that your skin was already starting to redden from Karlach’s heat, but her bottom lip quivered at even the mention of you leaving her arms.
When they managed to get you back to the Elfsong, Karlach was reluctantly convinced to lay you down on your bed.
She winced when she saw the small burns starting to form on the side of your body she had held to her own. Your left cheek was already starting to blister. Maybe she should’ve let Halsin carry you after all.
The healers came by to try and figure what had happened to you. You had no visible injuries, aside from the minor burns, yet you were still unable to be stirred.
It was actually Minthara who suggested they may have inflicted mental torture rather than physical, similar to what was inflicted on her at Moonrise.
The idea made Karlach burst into uncontrolled sobs. “You think they may have been erased?!”
Minthara looked sympathetically down at Karlach, but didn’t have an answer for her.
The party collectively decided that the only thing they could do is wait and let you rest.
Afraid to burn you with the fire that courses through her veins, Karlach restrained herself from crawling into bed with you. Instead she knelt next to the bed, resting her head on the mattress and reaching up to stroke your body.
She couldn’t sleep at all that night, only stroke your burned cheek and cry softly into your mattress.
She started to talk to you, talking about all the things she’s like to do with you when all of this was over.
“Maybe we’ll get a little place in Lower City, next to the water so we can watch the sunsets with all the boats ‘n stuff floating out in the distance. Oh! And we can go on little picnics in Bloomridge Park, and feed our leftovers to all the stray cats and dogs. Oh who am I kidding we’re taking all of them home with us. We’re gonna have a whole farmhouse if you can’t stop me.”
When you finally do wake up, Karlach wraps her arms around in a hug so tight you nearly suffocate. She eventually settles to sit in your lap while you gently stroke her hair.
Gortash better start counting because his days are dangerously numbered.
Minthara
The moment Minthara finds out you’ve been taken by Orin, her heart nearly stops beating.
One moment it was you, the love of her life, standing before her. Then, through the breaking of necks and cracking of bones, she finds herself face to face with one of her few fears. Orin the Red.
How could she fall for this again? Her head spins with the thought of all the things Orin may be doing to you. She knows you could hold your own, but Orin had a way of breaking the unbreakable.
Sometimes, with how loyally she followed you, it was easy to forget that Minthara was used to being the one in charge. A lot had changed since you met her as the Nightwarden.
But it all comes back quickly as she barks out orders to the now leaderless party. They were marching on the Temple of Bhaal, now. Minthara was prepared to take on the god of murder himself if it meant saving you.
As tempting as it was to charge straight into the temple, it left you all with little hope of survival. She decided the party’s presence near the temple would be enough to lure Orin out, leaving her an open opportunity to slip in.
Orin’s tactless blood thirst made the plan go over all too well. She couldn’t resist the smell of fresh unspilled blood at her doorstep.
By the time Minthara got to you, you were weak but still painfully conscious. You were hanging over an alter like a sacrifice by meat hooks that cleaved into your skin.
You had been tortured in true Bhaalist fashion. While your body displayed clear evidence of the slicing and cleaving, your mind was even more clouded by the things you had been forced to do and endure. It made you even more sympathetic to Minthara’s past.
Minthara climbed onto the unholy alter and began to remove you from the cruel hooks. She ignored your weak protestations, refusing to even look you in the eyes.
She resisted any urge to comfort you, pushing all the softness from her mind until the mission was complete and you were safe. She did not speak, fearing she may distract herself for the task at hand.
She only allowed for a brief moment when she picked you up and felt your throw your arms around her neck. You curled into her stomach with a choked sob and cried “I’m so sorry.”
“I know you better than to think you are foolish. Orin is cunning, persistent, and full of deceit. I do not fault you for what has happened.”
Escaping the temple was easier than getting in. She wordlessly worked her way back to the Elfsong with the ease of someone who wasn’t carrying a bloodied body.
She did what she could to heal you herself, given that none of the others had returned yet. A mildly concerning tidbit that seemed not to faze Minthara in the slightest.
It wasn’t until she was positive you would be okay that she allowed herself to soften, running her hands through your blood crusted hair and gently cleaning you with a dampened rag.
She paid little mind to the rest of the party, who returned looking a little worse for wear. She was disappointed but not surprised to hear that they had failed to kill Orin.
She recruited Jaheira to assist in your healing. She trusted her more than Shadowheart. She never let go of your hand, even when you squeezed so hard you thought you may have broken her fingers as Jaheira patched wounds with a variety of burning liquids.
She laid next to you on the bed, resting her head gently against your stomach and allowing you to stroke her head. She wasn’t bothered by the filth and blood that covers nearly every inch of you.
“We will make her pay for what she’s done to you. What she’s done to us. We will match every scar she’s inflicted tenfold until not even Bhaal with recognizes his own blood,” she swears, placing a gentle kiss on your stomach.
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starsofteal · 9 months ago
Text
Daylight
Halsin x Tav // Halsin x Reader
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Summary: Tav misinterprets Halsin’s declarations, thinking he must not want her as much as she wants him. Can Halsin convince her of his love? A/N: Well, my first Halsin fic is here! Based off this dialogue from the game, featuring a classic miscommunication trope. When I first came across this dialogue, I found myself rather disappointed by Halsin’s declaration, and I realized I was focusing on all the wrong parts of it. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we have a scenario in which Tav has done the same. This fic is so self-indulgent it should be a crime. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort (emphasis on the comfort—I promise all’s well that ends well). Pretty spoiler free, except for the opening dialogue if you’re romancing Halsin and you want all that to be a surprise. 
“Relationship?” A deep chuckle rumbles in Halsin’s chest. A sinking feeling settles into your gut. You weren’t sure what to expect when you broached the topic of a potential relationship, but a laugh? A direct blow from an enemy sword would have hurt less. 
“Such terms belong to civilization—a little unfamiliar to my lips.” His words continued, but that soft smile, those kind eyes, the strong, steadfast shape of Halsin, it all begins to shift, distorting just slightly as traitorous tears prick at your eyes. A quick bite of your inner cheek reminds you to hold steady, to not let the tears fall—by every star in that gods damned sky, you are not going to let him see you cry. 
“…you and I should each seek happiness wherever it lies…”
He’s still going on? You think to yourself. How long can one rejection take? You bite your cheek even harder, a coppery tang bursting on your tastebuds. 
Halsin’s words echo in your mind, despite the fact that his monologue seems to continue, piercing your heart again and again, the pain stealing the breath from your lungs. You will yourself to take in another breath.
“Let others know the happiness of being with you.” Halsin smiles down on you, not an ounce of malice in those soft green eyes. The staunch difference between his kindhearted gaze and the red-hot pain radiating in your chest was nearly laughable. In fact, at that very moment, you were unsure if your next steps would include crying, laughing, or launching an all out assault on the mountain of a man before you—an action that would surely not work out in your favor given the comical size difference between you two. 
In the end, it was all you could do to offer a small, meager, “I see.” It’s a notable effort to keep the emotion from your voice, but you’re proud of the attempt all the same.
A frown breaks out across Halsin’s face, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Have I said something wrong, my heart?” 
Those two words are a slap to your face. You don’t trust yourself to speak, not again, so without a word you turn and make your way to your tent as fast as your feet can take you. 
The fabric barely has time to fall in place behind you before the warm tears finally break free. 
_________
Two days had passed since the incident. While you wanted nothing more than to mope about on your bedroll and avoid Halsin altogether, your situation doesn’t exactly allow for such luxuries. 
Which is how you find yourself in the woods with Shadowheart, foraging for ingredients to top off your party’s supply of potions and tonics. Though you left early in the morning, the sun glares bright overhead now. Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, you crouch low beneath a bush and scan the area for the bright violet blooms Shadowheart had you scouting for. 
“I just don’t understand why you had to drag me out for this,” you fuss at your friend as thorns from the underbrush prick your side. Your clothing offers little protection against natures most irritating defenses. 
“Surely there’s…someone more suited to this than I.” Your following scowl can’t be entirely blamed by the literal thorn in your side, not as thoughts of Halsin flash through your mind once more. 
Shadowheart hums absentmindedly. “Yes, this is true. Halsin is more in tune with the forest,” she mutters, collecting something from the earth too small for your eyes to make out. A soft clink tells you the specimen makes it into the glass bottle. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about that,” Shadowheart continues, popping the cork back on the bottle and tucking it away. 
“About what?” You hiss as another thorn embeds itself in your palm. You toss a scowl her way before distracting yourself from the conversation as you fiddle with removing the thorn. You’re not sure which hurts worse, the abrupt change in conversation topic or the wound in your hand. Impervious to your dirty looks, Shadowheart makes her way over to you. 
“Well, you two were nearly inseparable. Absolutely enamored with each other—anyone could see it.” She takes your hand into her own to assess the damage.
“And now, well, if I’m being completely honest dear, you’re rather dour, you seldom leave your tent, or you’re looking for any excuse to get away from the party—sorry this’ll only hurt a second.” You wince as she pulls the thorn free and presses hard on the wound to stanch any bleeding. “And, well, Halsin’s been…unusually forlorn. Like a poor dog that’s been kicked in the stomach.” 
With a scoff you withdraw your hand, taking care to apply pressure to it just as Shadowheart had done. 
“I couldn’t care less what Halsin’s been doing.” The lie is ash on your tongue. 
Shadowheart looks at you then, really looks at you. You try your best not to fidget under her assessing gaze. 
“What happened?” 
“I—“ 
“And don’t bother lying to me,” she’s quick to interrupt. “Save it for someone else. I know something has been bothering you.” 
Resignation floods you. Leave it to Shadowheart to see right through your bravado and into your heart. 
“I was a fool for thinking he could ever be happy with me.” The words are soft as they fall from your lips, but they burn your heart all the same. A firm weight falls on your shoulder as Shadowheart offers an encouraging hand. 
“Tell me everything.”
_______
Halsin’s voice calls out your name from just outside Shadowheart’s tent. His low timbre still brings a tightness to your chest, but you will yourself to breathe normally. You’d been doing your best to avoid him since getting back to camp with Shadowheart, but you suppose now is as good a time as any to rip that particular bandage off. 
“Yes, Halsin?” You ask matter of factly, not even looking up from the array of ingredients you’re currently sorting through. You pointedly ignore his gaze as he steps into the tent, taking up a majority of the albeit limited empty space. 
Halsin clears his throat, clearly uncertain how to proceed. You two had always shared such an easygoing openness between you,  but the last two days had left him scrambling for purchase. 
“I was hoping we could talk,” Halsin smiles down at you, undeterred by your clear avoidance. 
“Mm, we are talking.” You collect up one of the empty potion bottles, wiping at a smudge spot with the edge of your tunic. 
Halsin forces a chuckle, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we are, but, erm, perhaps we could go for a walk? Enjoy some of nature’s company for the evening?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Your tone is sharper than you’d intended, but the guilt passes over you in a second as you replay his words in your mind, his scoff when you so much as mentioned a potential relationship. 
Halsin sighs. He had hoped that his 300 odd years of experience would give him a leg up in navigating this prickly conversation, but—as is usual when you’re involved—his heart and his tongue seem to be tripping over one another. 
 “My heart,“
That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps up to his, laced with venom. 
“You do not get to call me that. Not anymore.” 
Halsin feels his own chest start to cave in as the hurt flashes across your face—you master it a moment later, but the damage is done. 
“I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset you,” he starts, but you interject again. 
“It’s fine. I’m not upset,” you force some neutrality back in your voice. “You weren’t interested in things continuing between us, and that’s fine. Nothing to apologize for.” You gesture to the flap of the tent. “You can take your leave now.” 
Halsin does the opposite, braving another step closer. 
“Of course I need to apologize. It appears my words have caused some confusion. Worse yet, I fear they’ve caused you pain.” 
At that, you still, finger pausing over the bottles set up in front of you. 
“You must know that I would never intend to hurt you.” Halsin’s tone was bordering on pleading. “Even now, it physically pains me to know that I’ve hurt you so.” He draws a hand to his chest, moving as if to soothe an ache that’s nestled beneath the surface there. 
You glance up to see the hurt now reflecting in his eyes. It’s enough to bring forth a sigh from your lips, your shoulders caving in as resignation takes over your body. Even now, you can’t find it within yourself to hate him, no matter how much easier it would make this. 
“You’re not responsible for my feelings, Halsin,” you sigh. “They are my own.” 
“No, but I do take responsibility for my words,” he counters. 
“You don’t want a relationship with me and you said as much. There’s nothing left to be said.” Despite your best attempts, your voice breaks on the last word. You close your eyes, clinging to the blunt words, mentally rebuilding your armor to power through the rest of this conversation. 
“There is so much left to say, my heart.” Halsin’s gentle words caress your face like the sun’s rays on a warm summer day. “I have so much left to say.” 
You keep your eyes closed, focus on taking another breath, keeping your heart steady. “Then speak.” 
“I love you.” 
Your eyes spring open, and Halsin is before you, close enough to touch. A large, tentative hand reaches up to cradle your face. You don’t pull away, and that’s enough to bring relief to Halsin’s heart. 
“I don’t understand,” you whisper, afraid your mere voice would crack the perilously thin ice you suddenly find yourself on. “You said—“ 
“That I would not keep you to myself,” Halsin is quick to finish the thought. 
“That we should seek out other people,” you correct, a touch of anger shading the words as you step out of Halsin’s grip. 
At that, Halsin’s eyes widen. “No.” His voice holds more sharpness than the druid had ever shown with you before. “I said no such thing.” 
“Well, maybe not exactly, but the sentiment was there,” you grumble, the frustration seeping through at your hazy memory. 
“That ‘sentiment’ is misguided.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but you do it anyway. 
“Well, forgive me if I don’t have it memorized word for word—I was a little busy having my heart broken,” you snap. 
Halsin pauses for a heartbeat and you watch the pain shine in his pale green eyes at your words.
“And I will never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused you these last few days. But listen to my words now. I beg of you.” 
Another heartbeat passes. He takes your silence as permission to continue.
“I don’t abide by these conventional rules set in place by society. My home is in nature, and I follow the path the Oak Father has set before me. These ideals of what relationships should or shouldn’t be, you’ll have to forgive me if they're all but foreign to me.” 
Another wave of disappointment washes over you and you close your eyes in a futile attempt to deter the familiar pinpricks of tears. A warm, familiar hand caresses your face before tilting your chin up to bring your gaze to his. 
“But trust me when I tell you that I have never met someone like you. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does for you. What I feel for you pales in comparison to those who came before you.” 
There is no doubting the sincerity that lies in those soft verdant eyes. 
"It feels as though I have been asleep in a centuries long dark night, and now I am finally seeing daylight,” Halsin’s deep voice soothes, each word repairing the aches and tears of your heart.  
“There is no one else for me, my heart. Call it what you wish; you are all I want. Nothing would make me happier than to have you by my side for the rest of my days, if that is what you desire as well.
My love for you runs deep and true. Never doubt it, my heart.”
And then his lips are on yours, and every thought eddies out of your head, but one: Halsin loves you. 
Pure joy and relief floods your body and you don’t even bother trying to stop the tears of joy that follow. Halsin pulls back from the kiss just enough to swipe the tears from your cheek.
“I love you, too, Halsin,” you whisper in the space between you as Halsin presses his forehead to yours. 
“Forgive me, my heart. For the pain I have caused you.” 
You smile up at that handsome face you’ve grown to hold so dearly. Your slender hand  reaches up to caress his cheek, tracing the swirls of his tattoo. “Only if you’ll forgive my foolishness for doubting you.” You feel the shame rise up, bringing a heat to your cheeks.
“My heart, there is nothing to forgive,” Halsin murmurs before pressing another kiss to your forehead.
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wysteria-bloom · 12 days ago
Text
↪"you're lucky I...adore you."
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Bg3 companions if they've been affected by succubus magic
Bg3 x bard!reader
Warnings : nothing that I can think of.
Genre : fluff, just pure fluff
A/n : still haven't finished this damn game and it's nearly been a year. You don't want to know how many hours I've spent on it I'm genuinely so disappointed in myself 🥲
▢ lae'zel
Gone was her usual stern demeanour, this woman was huffing and puffing to try and hold herself back. Her mouth pulled into a grimace as the words tumbled out of her mouth against her will.
"Tav.... your battle prowess is... most pleasing to witness..." Her eyes were hazy as she leaned down slightly to your level, brows pulled tightly together despite the contrasting words coming from her mouth," Were you a githyanki, I might even consider... taking you as a mate."
You just sort of blink at her, string pulled taught against your finger as you were trying to fix your violin. A slow smile made its way to your lips," ... you're certainly direct." You cooed out, brows raised suggestively as you look her up and down," I'm flattered, really, but perhaps you should save the mating proposals for when you're not under the influence of succubus magic, hm?"
The githyanki huffs, embarrassed but still utterly bewitched, her nostrils flare," usually... a gith would take offense at such a vehement rejection..." Her forehead presses against yours as she frowns deeply," You're lucky I... adore you." She gritted out with much difficulty.
"It was a spell. Nothing more. Forget it happened unless you want to see your innards splattered across the dirt you stand on."
You smirk, pressing your forehead back in response," Lucky, indeed~"
-
"My pretty lips are sealed, milady."
▢ shadowheart
She leans casually against a nearby tree, watching you with that adoring green gaze of hers that she tried to hide underneath her awkwardly mysterious aura.
She listens to the soft tunes you play with your lovely fingers, humming slightly and almost drunkenly," You know.... your music isn't the only thing enchanting about you."
These strangely uncharacteristic words made you pause in your playing, raising a brow up at her in surprise.
She, herself, didn't know what she was saying but she just couldn't stop herself as her lips twitched into a smirk," perhaps we should compose a duet of our own?"
The blatant flirting amused you to no end and a hand shot to your mouth to suppress a laugh," a duet?" You repeated," As memorable of a performance that would be, I think it best for you to sleep off whatever magical nonsense that succubus casted on you."
Shadowheart gave you an incredulous look and tried to play it off, shrugging with a pout," Oh no, this is... all me." She tried, but the words trembled," totally natural."
"... Let's never talk about this again."
"What a ball of charisma you are."
-
"I've already got a tune decided for our duet. No backing out now, little cleric~"
▢ gale
The wizard approaches his dearest bard with his usual theatric flair, but the lines falling from his smart mouth were far more dramatic than usual as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear," your beauty... it's like the stars themselves - unreachable, radiant, and yet somehow, you make even the Weave seem mundane in comparison."
Your hand removes itself from your instrument to pinch the bridge of your nose. Despite your exasperation, you couldn't hide your amusement," Gale... that succubus has broken you. You don't need to keep... weaving poetry to me."
"Ah, but for you, my dear, no spell is required for me to express my-"
You cover his mouth with your hand and you swear you see hearts in his eyes," mhmm, let's talk about something else, okay?"
"Ahem... I maintain that my delivery was impeccable, spell or no."
-
"Didn't make me swoon, however. Maybe you should give it another try."
▢ karlach
You pause in analysing what spells you had when a shadow fell upon you, making you look up slowly to see Karlach's wry grin shining down upon you like the rays of Lathander himself.
Her infernal engine was humming a lot louder than usual, her enthusiasm palpable," look at you, soldier! All studious n' shit." She cooed as she crouched down, but she still towered over you. Her head canted to the side, hair falling wildly along with her," You're hotter than the hellfire burnin' in my chest... and that's saying something."
You burst into laughter, shaking your head with a flush rising to your cheeks. Whether it was because of Karlach's heat or her words? You couldn't tell. You didn't care either.
"That might be the most intense compliment I've ever received... did the spell possessing you come up with a list of pickup lines to read off of? Or is this all just you?"
Karlach's eyes glinted with affection and amusement as she shrugged," all me, babe." She lied before catching herself, looking up at the sky to think,"... or.... uh, the spell." She tapped her chin in thought, brows furrowed," maybe both?"
"Don't hurt yourself, love."
"Tav, you have to admit, the hellfire thing was pretty fuckin' good!"
-
"True... I'd like to hear you say it without slurring your words, this time."
▢ wyll
His confident strides never faltered despite the magic clearly affecting him, his usual charming demeanour was cracked up to tenfold as he leaned forwards to you, a soft little smile spread to his lips.
"You know... your voice could tame a dragon, and your smile could slay a Devil." He took your hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand," let me be your Knight, forever at your side."
You giggle, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder and you had to ignore the flip of your heart when he instantly leaned into your touch," Wyll, that's sweet, but I think you're laying it on a little thick here, sweetheart." The pet name made his head buzz," I'm impressed, honestly... did the spell teach you how to swoon like a bard?"
His hand moved to your one resting on his shoulder and squeezed with purpose, brows furrowed with a lovesick grin curled to his lips," no spells required, my love."
You snort," sure, and my lute plays itself."
"I... apologise for whatever nonsense spewed from my mouth. I was merely playing the part, you understand-"
-
"Hmm... nonsense, was it? And I was so looking forwards to you being my Knight. A shame, really."
▢ astarion
A finger twirled your hair as you strummed your instrument absentmindedly, trying to come up with a catchy bar tune.
Astarion was staring hazily, his usual smirk had actually fallen as his crimson eyes glinted,"... did you know your blood smells sweeter than the finest wine?"
You give him a deadpan look, pausing in your strumming to look up at him which immediately prompted for his hand to move to your chin," Astarion... did the spell make you forget how incredibly creepy that sounds?" You grimace.
He blanched at you, a hand pressing to his heart rather dramatically but his eyes were still infatuated with your every crevice and cranny," creepy?? No, no it's a compliment, I'll have you know!" Then he frowned as he thought of his words and quickly added on a," in a vampiric sort of way..."
You snort and grabbed his wrist, rubbing your thumb up and down it gently," let's revisit this topic when you're not spellbound... or thinking about my blood."
"But it's such lovely blood, darling!" He whined only to be interrupted.
"Nope. We're done here."
"Well, I regret absolutely nothing."
-
"That's because the things you said weren't anything out of the ordinary you freak."
▢ halsin
The uncharacteristic sparkle in his eye is what made you pause as he approached with his usual gentle facial expression. He opened his mouth and you were enraptured with every word-
"I was missing you... and found a lily of the valley," he held out the flower cutely, the size of it compared to him made your heart clench. What a pure man he was," they truly remind me of you... delicate, radiant and captivating."
You reached out and gently took the flower from him, cradlingnit as your cheeks flush warmly," You adorable man." You then moved your hand and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, but before you could pull your hand away, he pressed it to his cheek," Halsin... this is lovely but I'd prefer if you did this whilst not being under the influence of a spell. It's turned you into a poet."
He hums, half-listening to you as he closed his eyes, trying to memorise the temperature and feeling of your hand," poet? Not quite... just a humble druid who's helplessly ensared by your otherworldly beauty."
You sigh and smile, shaking your head as you pinch his cheek, grin widening at the displeased groan that he emitted," helplessly ensared, hmm? Well, let's just hope this spell wears off before you start building me a shrine."
He seemed to lift his head at attention when you said that, moving your hand to his chest and pressing it against his beating heart. The serious look in his eyes sent a flutter through your entire body, his voice a low rumble as he leaned close to your face," would you prefer one of oak or stone?"
You grimace but your face was certainly burning," Oh no, it's definitely time for you to snap out of it."
-
"Tav... forgive me if my words earlier were... overzealous. It was the spell, of course, though they were not entirely untrue."
"Not entirely untrue, huh? I'll keep that in mind the next time you're waxing poetic about flowers and shrines."
▢ minthara
Minthara, usually composed and calculating, strides up to you with an intensity that borders on unsettling. However, her voice takes on an unusual softness that left you weak in the knees.
"I believe now is the chance for me to express this... you are a weapon forged by the gods themselves - sharp, striking and impossible to resist." Her deft fingers ran up and down your arms softly, soothingly, hypnotically," Were I to claim you..." Her eyelashes lowered," none would dare challenge us."
You could only blink with that shit eating grin you always took on when you irritate her," That's flattering, Minthara. But you should save this for when you're not enchanted."
Her voice lowered," I do not make declarations lightly, Tav. You belong at my side. Drenched in the blood of our enemies."
"Whoo... at your side, huh?" You liked the images she created," what, no throne or crown to sweeten the deal?"
God, the smirk that twitched to her lips was utterly mind boggling. You wished you could sew her mouth to permanently stay that way," Oh... there would be both. Gold and blood, in your honour."
You coughed out a reluctant," I'll pass for now, thanks."
-
"Whatever foolishness I said under the spell - forget it. I would not waste words on such sentimentality."
"Of course not, Minthara. The throne and crown offer was purely strategic, I'm sure."
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munsonbrackets · 1 year ago
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Astarion x undying male reader
Just imagine Astarion having to lure back someone who can’t die for Cazador. 
Like Cazador didn’t tell him anyone specific, just someone pretty, which you are. Undeniably.
So he lures you over from across the bar, gets to talking, does the chatting he usually does. And you are so nice to him, but he refuses to be locked in another coffin for 200 years for not doing what Cazador said, so he lures you to Cazador.
But just a small problem with you being lured to Cazador to be turned into a spawn. You are a random dude who just cannot die. Not in the “nothing can kill me, i'm unkillable and immortal!” kind of way. No. That would be too simple. You cannot die in the “bone snapping, skull shattering, viscera brought to life once more.” kind of way.
So when Cazador attempts to turn you, you just kinda wake up again. With all of your blood still in you and a REALLY pissed off true vampire looking at you. And Cazador tries, tries again, tries 100 more times and he just cannot turn you. 
And you really can’t be bothered to stay for another 100 trials, so you just leave, first chance you get. All of the spawn think you’re one of them, Cazador being too embarrassed to tell the truth. That he was too weak to turn you.
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You leave Baldur’s gate, no need to have a pissed off old vampire coming after you. Especially not when all of his plates are silver, the dude has got money.
And a while later, when you get kidnapped and forced onto the nautiloid. You were scared for the first time in a long time. You had never had an illithid parasite put into your skull. The nautiloid then came crashing down and you were half expecting to just vomit it up. The other half of you wondering whether or not your affliction with death would prevent you from becoming a mind flayer. You always heard that mindflayers very much lacked in the soul category, maybe that’s why you could never stay dead?
But you decide to go at it, you’ve been gone from Baldur’s gate for a few 100 years, maybe someone there could help. On the way you find many companions, Gale of waterdeep, Lae’zel the githyanki, Shadowheart and the rest of your astounding group.
But most importantly, Astarion. Astarion the vampire spawn. Which the group found out about fast enough, specifically when he tried to bite you. You just could not tell whether or not he knew you. Recognized you.
That is until you and him sit alone, watching the stars. 
“You remind me an awful lot about someone I used to know.” Astarion practically whispered it out, seemingly unable to make up his mind whether or not he was gonna let the words out.
“Do I now? What was he like?” You mutter back, your eyes still fixated on the stars. But you are still so aware of him next to you.
“He was… I can’t completely remember. I met him once, maybe twice.” Astarion pauses and a shuddered breath is forced out of his lungs, he’s tense. Possibly remorseful. “But he was beautiful. He would look at everyone like they were infinite. He did that to people. Made them feel invulnerable.”
You ignored Astarion’s indirect, very direct, compliment.
“What happened to him?”
The words left your lips faster than you could really think about them. You tried easing the tension by laying flat on your back, using your palms as pillows for your head. 
Astarion’s breath almost hitched at your words, but he took a second, seemingly in thought. He was probably considering whether or not he should tell you the truth. You realized you had put him into a curious position, and with the battles ahead, you were inevitably going to see Cazador once more. Cazador would definitely recognize you.
“You handed him over to Cazador, didn’t you?”
You forced the words out this time. Every single part of your very being, screaming at you to be quiet.
Astarion swallowed harshly.
“Yes. I did. I wish I could say I would do anything to bring him back from whatever wretched fate Cazador forced him into. But I can’t. It’s never that simple is it?”
An involuntary chuckle left your throat and you saw Astarion whip his head towards you, his anxiety rising a thousand fold. You quickly sat up, looked at him reassuringly, and then you gently folded his hand between yours.
“I’m certain he forgave you long ago. Especially knowing what you went through, I highly doubt he blames you.”
And in Astarion’s eyes you recognized the same man from all those years ago, the insecure vampire spawn with the twinkle of the entire universe locked in his eyes.
You hoped that you made him feel as invulnerable as the first time you met him.
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moltensmusings · 1 year ago
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A few things about Astarion that I need people to think about outside of him simply being flirty and attractive (since people keep reducing him to his sex scenes):
His route has a heavy focus on emotional intimacy and consent. You can sleep with him sure, but if in-between acts 2 and 3 you learn nothing about him and pressure him into having sex with you then you're not understanding his character and he'll only see you as someone who wants his body.
Ascended astarion is his bad/dark ending. I know people love it when he's powerful and ascended/durge is a relationship people love and I'm not here to say that's wrong or that you're a terrible person for doing it. But stop arguing that it's his happy ending, or that he's better for it when he literally loses himself and in a nonascended version he'll say he could feel himself changing in ways he didn't like. He becomes another cazador. He only truly expresses himself and feels release if he kills Cazador and doesn't ascend.
Unless you do the drow twin scene prior to beating Cazador you're not forcing him into anything. He gives approval for going through with it. Do I think he regrets it after because he realizes he was biting off too much too early? Yes. But it's literally him learning his boundaries and understanding what he is and isn't comfortable with. He's only just starting to be able to fully choose what he wants, sometimes you make mistakes. It's part of the process.
Astarion died young before he fully matured as an elf, but he wasn't a child. He was a magistrate in the city, he had a fully functioning brain. But just because he was an adult by human standards when he died doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. People dying in their 30s is still tragically young. And even more so for an elf.
(This one doesn't come up as often) he doesn't hate Gale, he is very much flirting with and attracted to Gale at in act 1 if you bring them around. In fact Shadowheart and Wyll are the only ones he has dislike for at any point and as the story goes he warms up to everyone. All the companions care for each other and it's one of the best found families in video games.
There are several companions I feel large portions of the fandom just misunderstand/don't fully read into and it's tiring because the devs made each one so layered and interesting. I just feel like since Astarion is essentially the face of the game now, he's the one who constantly gets boiled down to his most surface level qualities with little regard for his story as a whole.
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thewritetofreespeech · 15 days ago
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Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!
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“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”
“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”
“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”
Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”
“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”
“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”
During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.
Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”
“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.
“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.
“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”
“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.
“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”
Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”
Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”
“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”
“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.
Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”
Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”
Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”
Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.
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elliyoyo · 4 months ago
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The Time You Thought Too Loud (Gale Dekarios/Reader)
This is Part 1 of 5 times Gale got teased + 1 time he got his payback. If you're starting, this is right place :) I'll be posting the descriptions and prompts on My Masterlist so you know what to expect, but this will be posted one chapter at a time.
Desc: You catch Gale conjuring his goddess, and he gives you a quick legend in the arcane. You can't help but fantasize about him after he gives you the most wanton look known to man.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, afab reader, vague f!masturbation, and fantasizing (including p in v, f!receiving oral, and creampies).
Words: 1.5k
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After a long day's running around, all you wanted was some rest. You had used what seemed like tons of extra supplies because of your own mistakes, you didn't know if your left pinky finger would ever feel the same, and you were completely over today. Hell, you were over this week already, and it only just started!
Despite all of that, however, you couldn't help but focus on (and grow curious about) a low shimmering noise from across your group's makeshift camp. It could only be described as weave incarnate, and the most magic you could do was a measly fire bolt… How were you supposed to fake not being interested?
When you look in that direction, you see a faint blue light coming from Gale's area, which confirms your sixth sense for the weave and draws you in even more. You push yourself up from your bedroll and take a sip from a nearby bottle of water before heading over to check out the small commotion. A small projection floats above Gale's hand, a portrait of a beautiful, straight-haired woman whose look alone commanded attention and grace.
You stare for a moment more, taking silent steps up behind him to get a closer look, a finer examination of all the details on her delicate face… The earring she had in common with Gale.
"Oh my, you startled me!" Gale finally notices your presence, jumping in place as the projection vanishes. "I, uh… I was miles away," he mumbles, hands coming together behind his back. Even though you had seemingly interrupted him, there was no hint of irritation or anger, only embarrassment.
"Is everything alright?"
"Of course! I was just… practicing an incantation!" He flashes you an effortless, but emotionless grin, clearly trying to get you to go about your evening. That wouldn't work on you, though.
"Hmmm… Gale, I think there's more to it than that. The figure I saw; she means something to you, I'm sure of it. You can be honest; I'd like to say I had a pretty tame reaction to Astarion's vampirism and Shadowheart's Sharran worship." You can't help but physically respond to him as well with a raised eyebrow and a hand flying to your hip.
"She does. She… is Mystra. I cannot quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her--- to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." His eyes have glazed over, staring off in the distance towards nothing as if he was now conjuring her up, detail by detail, in his mind. Of course, Mystra was important to him, but no ordinary devotee would feel so desperately drawn to see their idol. "No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies; The weave. Mystra is all magic, and as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation."
"I didn't realize the depth of your devotion." There is a twinge of jealousy, even though there is no reason for it to be there. You have no relationship with this man besides both being survivors, just as there is no reason for you to feel anything towards this goddess.
"Magic is my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it. It's like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses…" He shows off for a moment, flashing lights and shapes between his hands and in front of your face. Impressive, but he's certainly holding back, not revealing too much of his hand yet.
"Would you like to experience it firsthand?"
"Yes, of course I would!" Personal magic lessons from the magic prodigy? Maybe you were wrong to think there was nothing here. He could have thunderwaved you across camp by now if he had been bothered by your intrusion.
"Then follow my lead." He poises his hands up, doing a quick (easily copied) movement that has you feeling ready and at ease.
"Excellent! Now, repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."
"Okay, uh… Ah-Thran Mystra… Ryl, Kantrach-Ao!"
"Very good, and I know it's exciting, but no need to shout," he laughs out, doing his best to hold his arms and hands steady. "Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can."
You let your thoughts and consciousness fade from being at camp, next to Gale, with a mindflayer worm in your gods damned head, to your childhood. Early. Before it had the chance to get bad. Picking dandelions with your friends from the spots of land surrounding your family's. Birds chirping, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting out your kitchen window. Not a drop of blood or a tear in sight. And suddenly, as if you'd been doing it your entire life, the state of calm you'd achieved pushed out a burst of Weave. Gale's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal before too long.
"You did it! you're channeling the Weave--- how does it feel?"
"It feels effortless… You're a wonderful teacher, Gale."
"I know." His nose crinkles when he laughs this time. It makes you feel something strange and new in your stomach, makes your throat seize and your guard immediately fall. The moment connects you two, it feels intimate in and of itself. The confidence of having just successfully performed magic, magic for gods' sake… and in front of the most awkwardly attractive wizard you could have been stuck with in this whole situation.
You can't help but think of kissing Gale. With passion, cradling his cheek and neck with a hand each. It's a knee jerk, uncontrollable want that invades your mind before you can hide it from Gale. And see it he does, he nearly chokes on his own breath while his cheeks gain a dusting of light pink and sheen.
"I… didn't think… Sorry, I wasn't expecting… that… But it is a pleasant image to be sure!" His eyes are wide open up until he chokes on his own hitched breath, the unexpectedness of such a romantic gesture tugging at his heartstrings. Making him want. He would have jumped at the chance, sure, but not now. Not with the burden it would put upon you. "…And there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were to obtain." He meets your eyes one last time before he turns around, retreating into his tent. "Good night, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."
And with that, you were left alone, to wander off to your own bedroll and ignore the snores and sleep talking of your other companions. You would do anything to be in that tent after the tension you just accidentally caused, but a daydream or fantasy or two wouldn't kill you, eh?
You could only sit still for a few moments once you had gotten beneath your cover again. Your hand felt like it was physically itching, needing to slip under the loose waistband of your resting pants. Plenty of mental groaning later, you had your fingers gently, slowing moving over yourself. You think of the fact that you left each other breathless— you left Gale breathless— and that he hadn't exactly been upset by you thinking of kissing him… He seemed flattered. He looked at you with bashfulness, after being so cautious and slow to reveal himself for the first while.
It turned you on to no end.
Countless images flashed through your brain, all of them uncontrollable and barely coherent, but enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Gale mischievously looking up at you from between your legs, your legs well above your head as he splayed your thighs open and fucked you slowly, meaningfully… He dipped a finger down and toyed with your clit, swollen and sensitive from however many rounds he had already egged you on to do. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his teeth digging into his lip as he tried to hide a miserable, high-pitched whimper of, "Feels so good, you feel so good, 'm gonna cum!"
And then, you came along with him, in your head. A soft moan slipped past your lips that you prayed nobody heard and sweat clung to your body and bedroll. You slipped a few fingers inside yourself while riding the orgasm out and relished in the slickness. You allowed yourself to sickly dreaming that you were full of Gale. The clarity quickly came in tow, causing you to shake your head and grimace at yourself. At the fact that the situation had made it so that basic human kindness and attention would be enough for you to finish to the thought of somebody.
You wipe your fingers off, let your mind wander around the feeling of his skin and hairs of his chest, as if it were under your cheek that night. You slipped off thinking about the kiss he'd leave on your forehead and soft murmurs you'd have in your ear.
Little did you know that a very flustered, erect Gale was now the one with a difficult night mere meters away.
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deadtired-highkeyenergetic · 8 months ago
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I Won't Lose You
I've been told by all my friends who have played bg3 that durge runs should not be the first run of the game but here I am, doing just that. In my defense, I want to go around as a fictional dragonborn trying to kill most things and save scumming on dialogue choices for approval ratings.
Summary: The dark urge takes over when Astarion gets injured in battle. In the aftermath, you flee, afraid of what the others think of you now but Astarion goes after you to bring you back to camp and reassure you that nothing has changed.
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When the arrow pierces through his shoulder, all you can see is red. Blood roars in your ears, a scream tears itself from your throat and you change. You become a different person, your legs move of their own accord, the dagger in your hand twirls and you stab downwards. Over and over again you stab, blood splattering all over you but you don’t care. You’re not thinking, everything is a blur except the one word that rings in your head.
Kill.
And so you kill, your dagger tearing into flesh and drawing blood with each sickening squelch. The metallic taste floods your tongue and you grin. You feel alive, powerful, invincible. No one can stop you, no one can take anything away from you ever again. Laughter bubbles within your chest, bursting forth as you stand there, head thrown back. Blood drips from your clothes onto the floor but you barely notice it. Euphoria thrums through your veins, you’ve killed the being who tried to take the only thing you have left from you. It feels wonderful.
You feel as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders and raise your arms towards the sky, laughing all the while.
“Try it! Try and take him away from me!” You yell. “I’ll kill you all!”
Adrenaline rushes through your veins as the goblins flee in terror from the figure covered in blood. Your legs begin to move, feet pushing off the floor as you hunt them down, a wild gleeful look in your eyes. Your dagger slices through their skin, ripping open arteries, tearing off limbs and you only laugh harder at their screams of pain.
You slam your dagger into the neck of the goblin leader, crouching on its back as the body falls to the floor with a loud thud.
“No one can take him away from me,” you growl. “Not even the gods.”
You look up to see your companions’ various reactions, but the only one you really care about is Astarion’s. As you take a step towards him, reaching out with a bloody hand, he takes a step back, ruby eyes wide with horror. For a moment, all he can see is Cazador, drenched in blood with a grin so wide it stretches his face, and then he blinks and you’re standing in front of him, a look of hurt in your eyes.
Before your name can fall from his lips, you’re gone, running into the nearby forest. Everyone turns to look at him, the same question in their minds: what did he do?
Back in camp, Astarion tries to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest as Shadowheart heals his injury. He can’t shake the look you gave him before running away, the fear that filled your gaze. He recognised the look, after all, it was the same as the one he wore as Cazador’s spawn – the look of despair.
“I’m going out for a walk,” he says and leaves the camp before anyone can say anything. In all honesty, he has no idea how to find you, all he knows is that he has to. He can’t leave you alone to fend for yourself, especially not in that condition of yours. Letting out a sigh, he makes his way back to the battle site. He can try starting from there, track the scent of your blood and hopefully find you before anything else does.
When he reaches the site, he notices a lone figure sitting by the bloodstained rubble, their knees hugged against their chest.
“Y/N,” he calls out. You look up, and then quickly look back down, curled even more into yourself. Astarion feels his undead heart ache at the sight of your current state. You’ve always been the life of the party – cheerful, upbeat, optimistic. He’s the one who is broody, sitting in the corner and staring at everyone else and yet here you are, sitting all alone in the cold night with no fire to keep you warm.
“May I inquire as to why you have stolen my role as the broody rogue?” He seats himself next to you whilst maintaining some distance. You keep silent, staring into the distance.
“Come now, darling. Let’s head back to camp, the others miss you dearly, not as much as they miss me of course but –”
“Leave.” Your voice wavers. When he doesn’t move, you repeat your words a little louder. “I said leave.”
“But why, darling? You’re clearly cold and hungry, the camp has both fire and food. Don’t tell me you plan on freezing to death while starving? It’s not a very comfortable way to go,” he tuts. “You should choose a better way of dying.”
“I deserve it,” you mutter. “After what I did.”
“After what you did? You killed the goblins and protected the weak, I don’t believe any of that is deserving of such a slow death.” Astarion attempts to lighten the mood but your face remains sullen.
“You know what I’m talking about. I saw it, the way you looked at me. You don’t want me anymore, you shouldn’t. I’m a monster.” Your voice cracks, tears sliding down your cheeks.
“That’s not the worst thing I’ve seen,” his voice drops to a whisper. “And my feelings for you haven’t changed in the slightest. I still want whatever it is that we have, this weird relationship of ours. Nothing will ever change my mind about it. Your appearance simply…reminded me of something I’d rather forget in that moment, but the situations couldn’t be more vastly different.”
Astarion reaches out with a hand, simply holding an upturned palm towards you. A simple gesture, but one filled with so much meaning between the two of you. You stare at it, a hand slowly reaching out before pulling back again when you see how bloodstained your hand is.
Seeing as you are still in no mood to talk, he continues. “Whenever Cazador was covered in blood, it tended to be my blood. Usually it was after he had finished torturing me for whatever sick reason he had and he would smile at me, asking if I would be his good pet. You were covered in goblin blood, vowing to kill anyone even the gods if they tried to harm me. You were protecting me, not harming me, and I am forever grateful for that.”
Astarion takes your bloodstained hand and presses it against his cheek, leaning into the warm feeling, “I need you, Y/N.”
You feel a fresh wave of tears prick at the corners of your eyes, biting your bottom lip to stop the cascade. He shifts closer to you and leans in, ready to pull away should you flinch but you remain still, looking him in the eye and so he wraps himself around you, holding you tightly.
The dam bursts open and you weep, clutching at his tunic. Ugly tears dampen his sleeve, ruining his perfect appearance but Astarion doesn’t care. He’d do anything for you, just like how you’d do anything for him. The vampire spawn rests a reassuring hand on the back of your head while the other rubs circles on your back as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Right now, only you matter, and if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be that shoulder.
“I can’t lose you,” you sob through the tears. “I’ve lost everything else already, I can’t lose you too. WIthout you, I…I don’t know what to do. You’re the only one who keeps me going.”
Astarion presses his lips to your head, closing his eyes as he takes in your sweet scent, “I can’t lose you either, Y/N, and I promise, we will remain by each other’s side forever.”
His words make you cry harder and you bury yourself into his chest, crying until you have nothing left to give and lie there panting, cries reduced to sniffles. Astarion kisses away the tears that remain on your cheek, lips lingering longer than necessary with each kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.
“All these years, I’ve always wondered if anyone would ever care about me to the point where they would do anything to protect me, and now I’ve found my answer in you,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t be happier knowing that you would choose me over everything else.”
“I love you too,” you whisper back. “Thank you, for accepting me after seeing what I really am.”
“Any time, dearest.” He continues to cradle you in his arms, gently swaying from side to side. As your eyelids begin to flutter shut, he decides that tonight, it can’t just be you who is vulnerable. You trust him enough to drop your guard to this extent around him, he wants to repay the favour.
“I had a nightmare about you, just the other night.” He gently pushes your hair out of your face, tracing your jawline. He’s been wanting to keep this a secret, afraid of scaring you but since you had challenged the gods themselves, perhaps a vampire wasn’t that scary in comparison.
“Did I look hot in it?”
Astarion blinks in surprise. Maybe he was rubbing off on you too much. Amusement colours his face as he gives your cheek a poke and pouts. “First you steal my role as the broody rogue in the party and now you try to take my place as the residential flirt?”
“It’s all your fault,” you huff good naturedly, folding your arms across your chest. “You’ve been a terrible influence on me.”
He smiles softly, giving you a peck on the lips, “I suppose I have. Although I must say, you have a long way to go before you can ever reach my level.”
“I can’t possibly put you out of a job, can I? Whatever will I do to keep my vampire lover around then?”
“You simply need to exist, darling. That is all.”
Your gaze softens and you press your lips against his, kissing him deeply.
“Do you want to talk about your nightmare?” You ask once you reluctantly break away from the kiss to breathe. He nods, swallowing hard.
“Cazador had you. He threatened to kill you unless I returned to him, threatened to turn you into one of his spawn just like me and make you suffer for an eternity while I watched. You swore and cursed at me, saying all this was my fault, that it was all because of me that you were now on the cusp of being turned into a vampire spawn, and I –” His fingers tremble. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“Star –”
“I hesitated! I thought about putting myself before you, and I –”
“I want you to do that.”
His eyes widen, “darling, you can’t possibly –”
“Star, you’ve spent far too long putting everyone before yourself. You need to start putting yourself before others from time to time, to stand up for yourself. I want you to live your own life, not someone else’s. And if Cazador ever comes for us, well I won’t let him separate us. We’ll have each other’s backs as we always do, and he won’t stand a chance.”
You say it with such certainty that Astarion almost believes you, but a nagging voice in the back of his head reminds him of how strong Cazador is. Yet, looking deep into your eyes and seeing your resolve, a small part of him dares to hope again. Maybe, he really could stand up against his master with you by his side. Maybe one day, he really could be free, but for now, he’s more than content to simply hold you in his arms, feeling your warm embrace and his undead heart soaring.
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katyusha454 · 8 months ago
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I think I've found the most tragic ship in BG3 and I need to rant about it
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I've seen a decent number of people discuss and write about Dark Justiciar Shadowheart, but they always focus on what she's like post-game when she's fully committed to Shar. Which is a fine thing to focus on! Especially when you're writing smut where she's a mean domme. Post-game DJ Shadowheart is a fascinating character. But I feel like people neglect to consider what she's like during the transition phase of Act 3, where she's become Shar's Chosen but hasn't yet Done The Thing that caps off her personal questline. And there is SO MUCH potential for angst and drama during that time frame.
IMO the most important aspect of this stage of her development is that she is not evil yet. She simply made a single bad decision and now she feels like she's in too deep to do anything but double down on it. She's spent her whole life trying to "fake it 'till you make it" and she's only just now starting to transition out of that and into sincere belief. All the misgivings and insecurities she's shared with you are still there, just buried deeper. That desire to love others and do good hasn't yet been completely stamped out. In my Dark Justiciar Origin run, I try to do good things whenever possible as long as I can find a way to rationalize it as benefiting Shar. (but I still ended up saying enough evil-sounding things to make Minthara incredibly horny for me)
So where does Karlach fit in?
Well, turns out when you play as Origin Shadowheart, Shar doesn't make you break up with your partner. In fact, Shar says absolutely nothing to you about your romantic situation. This is really weird if you're romancing anyone other than Karlach, but I think it makes perfect sense for Shar to tolerate a relationship with Karlach for the time being. It's the ideal opportunity for Shar to prove a point. Karlach is dying, and no matter what Shadowheart does, this relationship is going to end in painful loss. Shar wants Shadowheart to fall in love with Karlach only to have that love abruptly ripped away from her. It perfectly demonstrates everything Shar believes about love: that it's fleeting and will always hurt you in the long run. Better to just avoid it entirely so you don't get hurt.
And Shadowheart knows all this. She's studied Sharran scripture extensively, after all. She knows that Shar is trying to teach her a lesson, she knows that the longer the relationship lasts and the more emotionally intimate it gets, the more the end is going to hurt. So why doesn't she break it off? Partly it's because she loves Karlach and doesn't want to end things; she's probably in denial at least a little bit. But I think it's also partly because she's a bit of a masochist. She thinks she deserves to suffer because she knows, at least subconsciously, that she's still not a very good Sharran. She can see the loss coming and she hopes the experience will bring her closer to Shar.
You'd think Karlach would be unwilling to put up with DJ Shadowheart's fanatical bullshit, but personally I think Karlach would stick it out for a whole mess of reasons. Number one, she can still see the good in Shadowheart and she refuses to give up on her partner. She's clinging tightly to the hope that Shadowheart can still be redeemed, even though she probably understands that it's a long shot at best.
Number two, she blames herself. When you play as Tav/Durge or another Origin, Shadowheart will have a conversation with you before deciding what to do in the Shadowfell. But if you play as Shadowheart, none of your companions says a word to you. In the context of this ship, I choose to interpret that as Karlach being too trusting. She's seen the good in Shadowheart, after all. She's so certain Shadowheart will do the right thing that she doesn't think she needs to speak up. It's not until too late that she realizes what Shadowheart needed was for someone to say "hey, are you sure about this?" So now she feels she needs to make up for that failure somehow by continuing to try and nudge Shadowheart in the right direction even though it seems impossible.
And number three, Karlach's just plain lonely. As fucked-up as this relationship is, she's still getting companionship and intimacy, and she doesn't think she has time to cultivate a new relationship if she breaks up with Shadowheart. She wants someone to be with her and hold her hand at the end, even if that someone is a brainwashed cultist.
In sum, both of them know that their relationship is extremely unhealthy; that it's hurting them now and will hurt them more in the future. But they both refuse to end it for their own reasons. And good gods, the ANGST. ARE YOU FEELING IT NOW, MISTER KRABS?
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meanbossart · 22 days ago
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Ask compilation: DU drow, Orin, Astarion, lore things and little fun facts.
Trying to make a dent in this dang inbox. As always, thank you so much everyone for your patience and curiosity! Sorry that it is straight up no longer possible for me to reply to everyone, but I will keep doing my best within reason. Enjoy!
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Absolutely! I had a lot of requests for bottom Astarion on my patreon which is why I was kind of on a roll there for a minute.
Though, for the record - I am really not very invested in strict bedroom roles at all. Or clear and distinct dominant/submissive dynamics. So please don't overthink it whenever there's a switch, no pun intended.
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You wanna know how often they smash? Man, I don't know, I guess fairly often considering their lifestyle post-game (very active, often on the road).
Assuming that everyone agrees that sex doesn't have to involve penetration, I'd say once every other day or less, really depends on the circumstances though. DU drow's libido is much higher than Astarion's, but he's not an animal and can hold off fine. Astarion is likely to be pickier in regards to location and how-recently-have-we-bathed status as well.
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I keep meaning to draw him, but I have like... A million things I want to do 😂 so its rough!
BUT you will at least continue to see him in ANE! And I'm sure i'm bound to draw him again in the future.
[MORE UNDER THE CUT]
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If you mean in his bhaalist "AU", where he has the red robe and the extra scars, I imagine he would have gotten it through killing Isobel.
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I think as a changeling she probably has the ability to just... Transform her hair however she likes at will, right? And based on her attitude plus some lines we get from Sceleritas about her own former-butler, it sounds like she would be really opposed to being serviced in that way, to me at least.
I see her as pretty aggressively independent with the way she operates, which is another factor that sets her apart from DU drow, who really enjoyed lording over the other Bhaalists and making an errand boy out of Sceleritas, to the point where he practically depended on their help to function.
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Neither! I wasn't willing to let anyone take either of my eyes in my first playthrough, LOL.
I have since always given the Volo eye to SOMEONE, usually Gale, but I don't consider that canonical. I don't think anyone was desperate enough to let mister frumpy-hat over there ice-pick their eyes out.
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He did do them himself. It was a profoundly stupid display he got caught up in because of Gortash. Also, de-handment is kind of a theme in his life, at least inside his head.
I have a comic about it planned for the future ;)
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What do you mean, that's canonical to the game and everything! He loves the cuck chair!
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He is an angsty 29-year old in denial. Your interpretation is still perfectly accurate.
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Hates the guy. Hates when Shadowheart Astarion people joke about him being the Drizzt of his generation. Hates the guy like literally any countercultural weirdo hates Taylor Swift or the Weeknd. If he saw him at the line in the grocery store DU drow would find a way to roll his eyes loudly just so he could notice being an asshole.
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Stay tuned, I'm cooking 🧑‍🍳
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If you're asking about game strats, badly, LOL. Pretty sure I died twice to her in my first run and it was a rough way of being thrown into "serious" DnD combat.
With the exception of a couple of encounters that just so happened to turn out SURPRISINGLY cinematic, I'm just realizing that I actually don't think too often about how most of the fights went in real-time! I imagine Autie Ethel's in particular wasn't one that DU drow went into of his own accord, probably rather at a companion's insistence. That's as deep as I've thought about that personally.
Now... Back to game strats. I personally try to get a surprise round on her however I can by sneaking and shooting an arrow or AOE in her general location, since she always stands on roughly the same spot while invisible. I have my companions spread about the arena so we can take her clones down as fast as possible, and as soon as I identify who the real Ethel is I just have the strongest martial characters wail on her until she begs to be let go. Hers is one of the few fights that is actually pretty dang easy at this point for me - and I SUCK at this game.
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That would certainly take a while! But, Bhaalist DU drow does kind of have an end goal, actually.
That might also turn into a comic eventually, but it would a rough one.
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He pretty swiftly disposed of her, DU drow doesn't like being talked down to, which Minthara very promptly does. Him (and I, by extension) had very limited exposure to her and she was just kind of a speck of dust in his story in particular. Though I have since grown to adore her character in my proceeding runs where I do recruit her!
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I guess if he got an invitation and it wasn't particularly painful to arrive at the venue, sure! He would specially love to take Astarion to Gale's wedding ceremony and purposely upstage him at every at every opportunity, LOL.
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Yes. He got pretty freaky with the pain-priest. This is gonna sound like a lie but I made him get naked for it without even knowing there was a buff to be gained (I didn't get it, unfortunately, I don't remember whether I failed a check or if I had camp clothes toggled on, so it didn't count as being truly nude). I wasn't taking the game very seriously and just doing dumb roleplay things to see what would happen, LOL.
And I consider that canonical. I think DU drow saw the opportunity to show off his physique And had a strange inkling that this was a practice he was... Somehow familiar with.
Imagine my joy when Astarion and Shadowheart start having a back-and-forth about my absurd display. That's when i knew those were my people, to be honest.
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