#baldur's gate 3 fic

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 6: Something Fishy

Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 4,831

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.��

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @reignydeys @cakenpiewhyohmy @beardedladyqueen

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[write-and-wander]

That Night

Astarion x Female Tav/Reader Description: A slowed-down, in-depth retelling of the aftermath of the Cazador fight; looking deeper into the thoughts and feelings of Astarion and his lover. Warnings: Violence and trauma mentions

She loved him.

That was all she knew. That was all she could think of, in this moment.

He had finally conquered his demons- no, his own hell. It was over, now, and the story could continue however he wanted it to. And instead of jumping head-first into any direction, he looked to her for guidance. Because despite the past that drove him to this point, the only future he cared about was one she would be a part of.

So he looks to her, bloodied Cazador at his feet, fate-sealing dagger in hand, heart laid out in a state of vulnerability completely unknown, and asks her what to do.

She looks back at him, her own hands bloodied from the exhausting battle they had just endured, and knows that she loves him. She loves him. Just as he is. She wouldn’t wish him any other way.

She can see the fear, yes. The drive for power, and revenge, but even more than that; the ecstasy of being able to take the one thing Cazador wants after he had taken so, so much from Astarion- the perfect act of justice.

And she asks him only to take it from Cazador- she asks him not to take it for himself. She asks him to keep his freedom, rather than submit himself to the shackles of madness that unprecedented power would demand.

And his open, bleeding heart is suddenly soft.

Though he may not get to take and keep, he is more than happy to take and watch evil lose.

So he does.

With shaking body and ragged breath, he drives the dagger into Cazador’s chest as a mortician’s hammer drives nails into a coffin; sealing death. The death of Cazador, the purest form of evil he has ever known. The death of who he could have been, in all the corrupt power he could have basked in. The death of life as he once knew it, defined only by the black and white chess game between power and powerless. He stabs straight through Cazador’s heart, and again, and again, and again; a desperate frenzy that will never quite feel like enough, until he is forced to stop.

His body fails him in its divine relief. Decades of pain, fear, and torture are at last released with his final act. He will never know Cazador’s pain again. His will never have to run from the monster that chases him again. He will never be a toy or a lure again. He is free, and he won, and he is still, somehow, despite everything, in tact. Inexplicable tension is finally let go completely. He collapses to his knees, wails ripping through his chest and echoing against the stone cold walls that surround him.

She watches as her very heart weeps in a grief she could never even begin to comprehend. The heart that beats in her chest seems to twist in its own turmoil, and a sympathetic hand- or perhaps the hand of a friend desperate to grip something else in an attempt to maintain their own balance- finds her shoulder. Her own tears stream down her face, as do the tears of the friends who helped them make it here.

Astarion’s “siblings-” not by blood, but certainly by bond- rush over to him, their faces contorted in concern combined with utter disbelief.

Her mouth opens for a moment; she wants to ask them to stop, to give her heart space to breathe, to please, gods, don’t touch him, but the words stick in her throat. She’s too choked up to speak, but gratitude sinks in as she realizes that this is their moment of blessed freedom, too. They shared in their pain together- they deserve to share in their relief together, too.

He steels himself as they approach, and she sees Astarion the Upper City Magistrate show himself as the suddenly gentler elf seamlessly steps into a place of leadership. The others look to him in a sudden cry for a compass- they are free, but they are left without direction; and he so easily gifts it to them. He gives them direction, and offers what little encouragement he can to the now-freed slaves. Thousands of spawn are suddenly given a second chance, now that the pale elf had changed their fates- a thankless act that outweighs his sins tenfold.

It isn’t until they leave to fulfill their last charge that he returns to his lover. He hesitantly takes her hands in his, and she grasps them with the same gentleness in confidence. He had done it. It was over.

There’s an instinct in her to hug him; to enfold herself around him in an act of love, and yet, she knows her beloved vampire better than that. He will come and effortlessly wrap himself in all that she is when he is ready. Instead, she gently presses kisses onto his bloodied hands.

He looks to the companions that now stand beside her- his friends, who have so selflessly fought for this moment despite his outward reluctance to fight for them.

Though he wouldn’t be able to say it out loud until years later, he loves them. That is what he feels in this moment, in its purest form. Though it is seamlessly woven into waves of gratitude and grief, he feels love. For all of them. For her.

Later that night, after the sun goes down and most of the others had retired to their tents, Astarion does, indeed, find himself in his lover’s tent. Later still, after a long and tear-filled conversation periodically interrupted with near-silent fits of weeping, Astarion buries himself into his lover’s arms. He cries until trance overtakes him.

And all through that night, she holds him.

And the sun rises. And a new day comes. And they will find out all it holds, together.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #spawn!astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #reader insert #x reader #x tav #write-and-wander #write and wander

[dancingbirdie]

hi I love your writing and I wanted to ask if you could write soft Lae'zel with tav. Since it would be interesting and Lae'zel even when she is soft isn’t what we tend to think of as soft. Again I love your writing and I hope your day is going well sorry for rambling!

Anon, this was so much fun to write - I hope you enjoy it as well! I LOVE Lae'zel. She's my in-game warrior wife. Hopefully I captured her persona well enough. xoxoxo

Source of My Bruises/Source of My Joy

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings/Tags: Descriptions of injury/blood/violence, angst, FLUFF, Lae'zel x f!Tav, Act 2 spoilers, Minor Act 3 spoilers.

She remained hunched over Tav’s hands, like a supplicant before an altar. The sight brought tears to Tav’s eyes. She had never seen Lae’zel so affected. 

A whiplike sting across her sternum and collarbone. Warm liquid flooding down her chest. Unforgiving coarseness of jagged stone under her. A guttural cry of outrage. It was all Tav could remember before losing consciousness. 

Slowly, she opened sleep-crusted eyes to take in her current surroundings. 

She was lying in Lae’zel’s tent. The Githyanki was seated next to her, polishing a greatsword with singular, intense focus. Her momentary distraction afforded Tav the opportunity to study the warrior, appreciate her fearsomeness. Her austere beauty. 

Not that Tav had ever been inclined toward bouts of lovesick ogling, but there were precious few moments when she could truly appreciate the Githyanki uninterrupted. Lae’zel was a force of nature to behold. Like a supernova made flesh. 

Tav knew she intimidated and exasperated the others in their party, but not her. Tav had been captivated by Lae’zel from the instant she dropped in front of her on the Nautiloid ship, poised to cut her down like chaff separated from wheat. It had been like coming face to face with a natural disaster. Glorious. Fearsome. Staggering. 

Gazing at her now, Tav took in the deep furrow of Lae’zel’s brows. The harsh lines of a grimace etched around her mouth. The slight flaring of her nostrils. Her pursed lips. The rhythmic motion of her arms as she cleaned the blade. Her body was almost vibrating with pent-up energy.  

Without further delaying the inevitable, Tav made a weak attempt to clear her throat and announce her consciousness. But the movement sent a surge of pain spearing through her chest, causing her to cough harder. Bringing a hand to her chest reflexively, Tav noticed for the first time the thick weave of bandages covering her upper torso. The herbal, earthy smell of some medicinal salve wafted to her nose. What in the seven hells had happened?

Of course, Tav had sustained her fair share of wounds on their journey thus far, but she had never been so badly injured as to warrant this level of care. Whatever had happened to her, it must have brought her a hair’s width from death.

“Chk. Cease your squirming. The bandages will slip,” Lae’zel commanded, having dropped her weapon and clambered to Tav’s side to readjust the wound dressing.  

“What-” attempted Tav, before pausing to try to swallow the cotton feeling in her mouth.

Sensing her discomfort, Lae’zel reached for a carafe of water beside Tav’s head. Gently, more gently than Tav would have thought possible for the Githyanki, Lae’zel cupped the back of Tav’s head and helped her take small sips from the pitcher. 

“Thank you,” Tav murmured, resting back on the pillow once more. But despite the softness of Lae’zel’s touch moments before, the warrior now glared at Tav with barely restrained ire. 

“Istik! You were foolish to stumble into that Cloaker’s lair alone. You would have succumbed to your wounds had I not reached you in time,” she spat. But there was an undercurrent of some new emotion in her voice. 

Tav’s eyes widened in surprise at Lae’zel’s words. Slowly, as if she were dredging the memories from some deep pit in her mind, the encounter moments before Tav slipped into unconsciousness resurfaced. 

She, Lae’zel, and the rest of the party members had been exploring the ruins of the Temple of Shar. There had been an alcove in one of the temple antechambers. It resembled other passages they had seen leading to the Underdark, or at least that’s what Tav had thought. She’d scaled the crumbling wall to get a better look, explore the area further. It wasn’t until she was standing in the area proper that she realized the alcove was much larger than it had appeared, its ceiling far higher than what her eyes could see. The Cloaker had struck from above her, its barbed tail lacerating the flesh of her chest and shoulder. She had heard someone cry out from behind her, but the wound had been too great for her to remain conscious. 

The anguished cry had come from Lae’zel, Tav realized now with certainty. The truth of it struck her speechless. She had never heard the Githyanki utter any sound like that before. 

Tav swallowed thickly, keeping her eyes steady on Lae’zel. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” she whispered honestly. 

Lae’zel had been opening her mouth, preparing to rebuff Tav’s counterpoint, but snapped it shut in surprise as she realized the words Tav had spoken were not stoking an argument, as they usually tended to do, but rather quelling it. 

In the blink of an eye, the inferno that had been Lae’zel’s barely-contained rage and distress simmered. Her hands trembled slightly as they took Tav’s in a firm grip. 

Tav watched as she leaned over, lowering her forehead to rest against the backs of Tav’s hands. She felt Lae’zel shudder, saw her back heave with stilted, uneven breaths. She was holding onto Tav like she was a lifeline.

“Zhak vo'n'ash duj. Source of my bruises,” Lae’zel whispered after a while, her voice heavy with emotion. “I was certain I would lose you to that cursed creature.”

“I can only assume you tore it limb from limb. I hate I missed such a scene,” Tav said in an attempt at levity.

“I eviscerated its body and burned the remains. It deserved nothing less,” Lae’zel swore in a muffled voice. She remained hunched over Tav’s hands, like a supplicant before an altar. The sight brought tears to Tav’s eyes. She had never seen Lae’zel so affected. 

“You will never lose me,” Tav said in a soft whisper. “I am yours, Lae’zel. I will forever be yours, even in death.”

Lae’zel lifted her head to meet Tav’s gaze. 

“We are bound,” she intoned.

“We are bound,” Tav responded, lifting a hand to cup the Githyanki’s cheek. She marveled at the way Lae’zel seemed to melt into her touch, her eyes fluttering closed, her breaths evening out. 

“Come here,” Tav said, after a few quiet moments had passed. “Lie down with me. We both need rest.”

Lae’zel’s eyes flickered open at the suggestion, a torn expression on her face. The need to protect versus the need for comfort warred plainly across her features. But Tav would have none of her valiant posturing tonight. She knew that both of them needed the embrace of one other, after everything that had happened. Tav gripped her cheek more firmly. 

“The others will keep watch, Lae’zel. Stay with me now. Please,” Tav urged.

Lae’zel stared at her in silence for a beat longer before finally giving in. Stretching out her long legs, the warrior relaxed into Tav’s side, careful not to disturb the bandages wrapped across her torso. 

Tav took Lae’zel’s hand in hers once more and gave it a firm squeeze. 

“I am yours,” she assured Lae’zel again, just for good measure, as her eyelids grew heavy with the need for rest. 

Sleep was quickly coming upon her. She thought she heard Lae’zel’s quiet reply in Githyanki before she slipped away, but Tav did not understand the words. 

“Zhak vo’n’fynh duj.” 

The phrase carried her into a dreamless, peaceful slumber.

#dancingbirdiewrites #bg3 fanfiction #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel fanfic #bg3 lae'zel #lae'zel #lae'zel romance #baldur's gate 3 fic

[just-some-random-blogger]

Feel Like Dying

There's nothing quite like airing out the pains and horrors of living in front of a lively fire next to someone who's not quite alive.

Astarion x Reader | 1k+ | cw: gender neutral!reader, suicidal ideation?, angst, soft!astarion, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I got sick and was in so much pain :D i figured writing something will help. But I couldn't finish it when I was sick, but now I did (((: YAY

Tagging: @sloanexx @amiraisgoingthruit

Pain was coursing through my being. It was a stream with an irregular flow, one moment it was calm, and another it was raging. It was fleeting then roaring. It was a pain that could not be quelled by medicine or magic, it was the sort only time could heal.

"Don't you think you should do something about that?"

I turn over my shoulder, craning my neck as the silver haired man sat down on the log beside me. I feel a bead of sweat form on my temple, "do what about it?"

"Oh, I don't know," he sighs, placing his hands on his lap, "have Shadowheart use a healing spell on you."

The fire before us crackles.

I shake my head, watching cinders fly around the orange flames. The color reminds me of the snack I took with me. I turn to my side and grab the two oranges, handing one to Astarion.

He pulls his hand away from his lap, avoiding the citrus with disgust, "oh, no, darling. None for me."

I pull the one orange away, placing it on my lap. I lean my elbows on my thighs and turn to the fruit in my hand.

I press my thumbs into the orange skin, but find myself too weak to pierce it. My arms begin to shake. I feel pain rush up my limbs. I release the pressure and sigh.

Astarion catches this. His expression softens, "a healing potion, perhaps."

"It's not the type of pain that can be healed," I tell him, "it's a different kind."

He makes a sound then speaks softly, "I am rather acquainted to pain."

I turn to him, lips tugging down, "unfortunate."

"Yes. It very much is unfortunate," he takes the orange from me, "to those I've inflicted it upon."

We both knew that's not what he meant when he said that, but neither of us point it out.

I watch as Astarion peels the orange. The smell of it tingles my nose.

He hands me a segment of the fruit. I stare at it for a moment then stare at him. His red eyes were somehow softened by the campfire, as were the curves of his cheeks and jaw.

"Well, go on," he raises the bit of orange, "I didn't peel this for nothing."

I take the orange from him and eat it. The juice explodes in my mouth. I chew a bit then thank him.

He peels me another part and hands it over.

I take it, ready to say thank you again, but then a hot bolt of pain shoots through me.

Astarion senses this and stiffens in his spot.

I hunch forward, trying to contain my reaction to the pain, but a whine manages to leave my lips.

"Scream," he says, "wail, shout, cry over the pain. Who cares if it's the middle of the night. Be hurt if it hurts."

I slowly straighten up and sigh, "my head will throb if I scream."

"Oh..." he thinks for a moment, "then maybe don't do that."

I huff through my nose, "sometimes I wish I was numb. I wish this hurt didn't faze me. I wish I just... was not."

Astarion turns to the orange in his hand. He splits it with his thumbs. He then takes my hand and places it there.

His touch lingers. It remains long enough that I turn down and watch his fingers rub my skin. I clutch the orange and look up at him.

He pulls away. His lips part to speak, but I beat him to it.

"But then I remember pain makes gentle touches all the more tender," I press my lips into a soft smile.

I look at the orange in my hand, two segments still connected into one. I split them in half.

The action draws out a memory, a time that feels distant to the present. I recall sharing orange segments, apple slices, grapes, watermelon, and peaches. There were no words spoken in the memory, there was no other sound save for the ambience, but there was an apparent ease, an air of comfort between us.

The person in my memory had no face, just a blur of a smile as they reached out to hand me fruit. Still, the memory brought me peace, the memory takes away from the pain I was feeling.

Astarion recognizes this.

I raise the orange slice by his face. I stuff the other in my mouth and lick the juice on my lips.

Astarion turns to the citrus, then slowly lifts his eyes up to mine. He takes the orange into his mouth.

A mix of sweet, sour, and bitter swarm his tongue as he chews. He is surprised he enjoys it as much as he does.

Another ripple of pain courses through me. Astarion scoots over and wordlessly offers his shoulder. I lean on him and ride out the pain in silence.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion fluff #astarion fanfiction #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fic

[astarionancuninswife]

people watching (tav x astarion)

jsfadlkjklf yes!! I love this!!

word count: 430

warnings: N/A, just fluff

"I'll keep you safe" prompts | askbox

ao3 | guidelines for requests | masterlist

Karlach had convinced you that the party needed a day of rest, you in particular. You remember her words from the night before, scolding you for always being on 'go mode.' ("I get it, we're on a time crunch here, but we can't be our best if our leader is in bad shape! You always give each of us breaks, it's your turn. Let's take tomorrow off.")

So, that's how you found yourself sitting at the opening of your tent, fidgeting with your fingers because you just don't know how to sit and relax. Eventually you pick up a book, then almost immediately disregard it when you hear a pleased sigh somewhere nearby. You turn your head to the sound and admire how the pale elf stands with his eyes closed and face to the sun. You've picked up on his affinity for sunbathing, almost resembling a lizard on a warm rock when the sun comes out, and it always makes your lips curl up in a small smile when you catch him in the act.

You don't know how long you've been watching him when he turns his head to you with a brow raised, "Yes?"

"Hmm?" your trance is broken, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassed you got caught staring, "I, it's just..." you stutter a bit, looking everywhere but at Astarion, before your eyes land on him once more and you decide on honesty, "I like seeing you this way. So... at ease. Make me wonder how anyone could ever purposely put you under stress and live with themselves afterwards."

The vampire clearly wasn't expecting that, evident by how his annoyed expression softens at each word coming from your mouth. His eyebrows relax while his lips part in disbelief of the kindness you just said to him. It takes him a few seconds to recalibrate and respond, giving you a very simple, but sincere, "Thank you."

Your own embarrassment stricken face falls into a gentle smile, "Anytime, Astarion," you close your eyes and lift your face to the warmth falling from the sky, "Oh, this is nice, I see why you like it so much," you cover the lower half of your face as you let out a small giggle before leaning back on your arms and letting the sun bath you in her rays.

It's then Astarion's turn to watch you bask in the sun before smiling and mirror your position, "It is, isn't it, darling?" He lets out another content sigh, enjoying his usual sunbathing more with your company, "It's very nice."

#astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin fic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fluff #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate fic #baldur's gate 3 fic #bg3 fic #ask prompt #mine

[lettersfromaphrodite]

| make me feel like I am breathing (feel like I am human) |

― pairing : Astarion x fem! reader ― content warnings : fluff ― word count : 761 ― notes : I haven't written anything in SO LONG I've forgotten how it's done // prompt stolen from my main blog // long ass title? blame them

Astarion gently kissed the bite mark on your breast with a soft sigh, tracing the two little punctures with his fingertip, before resting his head on your chest, quietly listening to the sound of your heartbeat and your soft breathing.

It was one of his favourite things to do once you fell asleep: your naked bodies pressed together, him breathing in your scent and somehow trying to heal himself from centuries of accumulated trauma just with your soothing presence.

Astarion eventually closed his eyes, using his fingertips to ghost delicate patterns on your arms, tracing the battle scars you got while travelling together – scars which by now he knew by heart, just like the rest of you.

He tried to distract himself from the memories, from the pain that still managed to slither back into his mind and creep into his thoughts, thinking about the fact that living in the Underdark, perhaps, wasn’t so bad as long as he had you by his side. Of course, some days were more difficult than others, but together, the both of you eventually managed to create a functional community, even considering those vampire fanatics that eventually decided to join you.

Because of course, at first, Astarion was completely against the idea of keeping humans in the Underdark just so that the others vampire spawns could feed from them, but he had to realise that the option was far better than seven thousand vampires risking their lives in order to feed on monsters or myconoids’ blood. Moreover, humans could safely walk under the sun, therefore their presence was indeed useful for all of you.

Something that you had learnt from the many months you spent sleeping in a not so safe camp under the stars was to be a light sleeper, so eventually, when you started to brush your fingertips through Astarion’s hair, he realised you were awake, but still pretending you were fast asleep, just like you did every night.

«You do realise I can hear that you’re awake, right?» Astarion hummed, hugging you a little closer to him, bathing himself in your natural warmth; you simply hummed, not bothering to voice your answer, thing which you knew made him roll his eyes with a soft smile.

«No no, please go on, let’s pretend I’m still sleeping, keep loving me a little more.» you mumbled with a smile on your lips, your voice still latched with sleep as you sighed, stirring your limbs a little bit but not enough to make Astarion move too much above you as well.

«That’s rather a brave thing to say, love, especially because I spend most of my days worshipping you.» he answered, pretending to be annoyed at you.

«Oh, come on!» you giggled, holding him close while rolling the two of you so that now Astarion laid on his back, his arms instinctively finding their way around your hips, «don’t I do the same?» you questioned, kissing Astarion on his cheek an indefinite amount of times, making sure your kisses were purposely loud and noisy.

Astarion furrowed his eyebrows, once again pretending to be annoyed at the gesture, but he eventually chuckled under his breath, mumbling quiet words of affection you couldn’t pinpoint.

«Did you have a nightmare?» you wondered now, as you were partially laying above him, your chin in the palm of your hand as you traced his features with your index finger. Astarion shook his head with a soft sigh, simply answering with a «The usual.» which make your gaze soften.

Eventually, you and Astarion returned in your previous position, with his head on your chest and your fingertips brushing his hair with gentle movements; you would kiss his forehead every now and then, as you quietly hummed a lullaby you’ve heard in your childhood. Sometimes, Astarion would hug you a little tighter, almost too tight, but with time you learnt to understand that it was his way to fight a particular bad memory, and therefore you would hold him a little tighter in return.

Some other times, Astarion would open up about it, and tell you about the memories that plagued his mind, following your theory of “if you talk about it, you’ll eventually stop remembering about it”, but the both of you knew that healing him would take time.

But it was fine, because now Astarion was free, he was safe, he was loved, and he was with you.

And Astarion knew that you would be there for him just as much as he was going to be there for you.

all works © lettersfromaphrodite

Do not modify, repost, translate or plagiarize my stories. I only publish my works on tumblr & AO3.

↳ BACK TO NAVIGATION 💫 ↳ BACK TO MASTERLIST 🔮

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion fic #fanfic #fanfics #fantasy au #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fic

[nivasichakano]

✶ BG3 Fic Roundup ✶

Here's a rundown of my current BG3 stories on AO3:

Hustle: My current, ongoing Bloodweave fic set in a modern magic AU, where Gale and Astarion are rival YouTubers and (unbeknownst to Astarion) also internet besties on the subreddit r/galehaters.

Read if you like: bloodweave :), internet troll Astarion, cringegale, professor Gale, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, humor, eventual smut, eventual fluff

What Friends Are For: A completed Bloodweave fic that sees a post-game Gale going through a difficult divorce and an Astarion who's reluctantly agreed to keep an eye on him.

Read if you like: bloodweave :) , ADHDAstarion, sweet Gale but also a bit naughty Gale, humor, light smut, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff

Hiraeth: A completed isekai long fic about Kish, a BG3 player who gets sucked into the events of the game. As she meets all the characters she knows so well, she finds herself in the middle of a complicated triangle involving a wizard and a vampire — and learns that this might not be the first time she's been in Baldur's Gate.

Read if you like: soft Astarion, traditional fantasy, romance, angst, fluff, humor, bittersweet endings

Bring Me To Heal: A completed medium-length fic that follows Fiain, a widow of the Battle of Baldur's Gate, and the irritating vampire who keeps seducing his clients in her tavern.

Read if you like: little shit Astarion, humor, hurt/comfort, angst, a bit of whump and trauma, fluff, tooth-rottingly happy endings

#bloodweave #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale x astarion #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #gale baldurs gate 3 #gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fic #bg3 #astarion x gale #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 gale #ao3 link #fanfic

[leomonae]

PSA for Baldur's Gate 3 fic writers: the Ao3 character tag "Charname" is not just another way of saying the BG3 main character. That is specifically Gorion's Ward, the Bhaalspawn protagonist of BG1 and 2, called that because it's how they were referenced in the dialogue etc files that we read and modders used. <CHARNAME>. As a code thing, so the game knew to replace it with the character name the player had chosen for them.

From there, it just wound up being what everyone called them in general when discussing the game, because the best other in-game appellation would've been something like... the Child of Bhaal probably, which is just wildly unspecific.

Please try not use the tag for anyone else so as to cut down on the confusion! "Charname" is to BG1 and BG2 what "Tav" is to BG3 for tagging purposes.

#baldur's gate 3 #hyperfixation ahoy #baldur's gate 2 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fic #ao3 tags #gorion's ward #charname

[light-purp-insect]

A Hesitant Rest (Zevlor BG3 x GN unspecified Tav)

Notes/warnings: SFW, fluff, domestic feelings, mentions of other companions, Astarion being himself at the end, not beta read, sleeping together (literally), slight depictions of anxiety, slight nudity (undressing in the company of another person), very light spoilers, possibly fast paced? (Read author's notes below for context), very little dialogue

This was just an excuse to write something in two days to finally put another fic on my blog, as well as hopefully an introduction for fans of Baldur's Gate 3 to send asks.

The fire of the camp was on its last embers, the bright hot orange ashes going into the sky but no crackle left. It made the little clearing have such little lighting, the only main source being an occasional lantern or candle left out near a tent before their inhabitant went to bed. That or Karlach’s internal workings giving a glow through the thin fabric of her tent, but that was always to be expected. Speaking of, I don’t even remember why I’m still up. It's not like anyone will attack us, I’ve noticed very few creatures are even interested in us. But then again, I couldn’t be certain. For all I knew, there could be a bear that wasn’t Halsin or perhaps a crazed Drow or–

You notice the dull red tip of a pointed tail of your tiefling friend, Zevlor, twitch back and forth. His eyes scanned the camp and the outskirts of the trees until falling onto you. You could see the initial shock of realizing you were awake melt into delight. The bowl of food next to him had gone cold a while ago, but so did yours. He motions for you to come closer with a hand, and you oblige without much convincing.

Eventually you find yourself on the ground next to him in silence. Your hand in his, more for his comfort than trying to be cuddly, his tail begins to become more alive. In particular his tail went from nervously flicking in the dirt to being pressed against your side and the tip swishing to pat your thigh.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“I'm afraid not, dear.”

His voice sounded a little defeated. He had gotten older and the stress of the loss of several Hellriders still was fresh in his mind. In his mind he still felt terrible, no matter how many times you tried to convince him it wasn't his fault for having his mind essentially possessed. To be honest he wanted to sleep next to you, you knew how to handle him the best.

“I have a few extra pillows, would you-..?” He doesn't finish his sentence, hoping you would be able to take his hint. To reiterate his question, he points to his tent with a clawed finger and tilts his head slightly. Once again you oblige to his silent offers. With a slightly pained groan, he gets up from the ground and guides you away towards his tent.

Much like he had said, on the rather rudimentary mattress was a few extra pillows and an old woven blanket for the both of you. From the inside, he turns and closes the fabric flap to the tent and begins to shuck the light armor from his body. The old leather falls unceremoniously to a little corner as he stretches his back with another groan. His tail slowly swishing around behind him as he continues to undress, giving you some privacy as you do as well.

Within a short time, he has stripped down to his old and worn boxers, the hoary fabric ripped slightly along the waistband and one of the side seams had been hastily restitched quite a while ago. His once lean body had gotten softer in some areas from age, of course still having to be well maintained from his previous years of travels. He had a few pink scars littering his figure, but nothing that looked particularly gnarly or uncomfortable to live with.

Eventually he turned back to you, giving a small smile that made his nasolabial lines more visible. He had bathed next to you a few times, so you weren't anything especially new to see in little clothing. He hunkers down on the poorly made mattress and waits patiently for you to follow. “It's been a little while since I was last able to sleep next to someone.” He muttered before looking away.

When he felt the bed sink under your weight, he looked back up. His gaze softened every second you were close. He needed this, something to comfort him tonight. The two of you languidly lay your heads on the pillows, and Zevlor momentarily readjusts himself so he wasn't laying on his horns.

As the two of you lay under the covers, eyes closed and silent, you feel the dull edge of a clawed hand. Did Zevlor want to hold you? It wouldn't be anything particularly out-of-the-ordinary, after all you had been through with this adventure. From under the blanket you guide his hand against your side. He gives a thankful huff in response.

And then, something you hadn't even thought he would do had happened. You had a feeling he wanted some contact, but now he had his arms wrapped around you and cradling your head to his chest. He smelt like the leather of his armor and had the faintest hint of smoke, probably from staying by the fire for so long. The tiefling languidly entertwined the both of your legs together, finally finding the warmth he so desperately craved. And you let him, he deserved something soft for once.

“Thank you, darling.” He purred– not in a lustful or lecherous way, but an actual feline-adjacent pur. You could feel by the blanket that his tail was sleepily wagging, clearly delighted you would let him have this. A pair of lips press to the crown of your head and stay there. You finally speak once again, wanting him to hear your voice before he drifted off to bed. “You're welcome, Zevlor.”

-- -- -- --

As the pale elf came back to the camp from his feeding, he instinctively decided to check the tents of his other companions. Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Zev– oh. Well, at least he wouldn't need to check your tent tonight. He grined at the awfully sweet sight of the both of you asleep in the other's arms. He had a feeling he would tease one of you later, but he would allow you to rest before so.

#Av writes for once #zevlor bg3 #Zevlor Baldur's Gate 3 #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader #zevlor x you #zevlor #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fic

[reverieblondie]

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

NSFW 18+!

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Rolan ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Seeking Advice - Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should ask advice from your friends?

Late Night Dip - Cal and Lia are worried about their brother, he's just so stressed and needs a break! Good thing you have an idea that could help...

Nobel Blood - High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

Sub!Rolan HCs

Arabellan Dry

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Haarlep ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

Domming Haarlep

.̩₊̣.̩✧*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆ Headcanons ⋆*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧.₊̣̇.‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩✧·.̩₊̣.̩

BG3 boys with shy s/o

Raphael & Zevlor with shy s/o

BG3 boys with Calm and Collected (Kuudere) s/o

BG3 Running into Tavs crazy EX

BG3 boys with touch starved s/o

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #bg3 headcannons #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #bg3 haarlep #bg3 gale #bg3 wyll #bg3 raphael #rolan fanfic #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fic #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 rolan #baldur's gate 3 x reader

[hale-of-stiles-heart]

comfort and chamomile

my first finished bg3 fic! Astarion x f!Tav, just something a lil fluffy with some comfort! really hope you enjoy it! also on ao3! tagging the amazing @spokir hope you enjoy getting to finally have some Tav fic!

It’s been hours since they’ve made camp for the night but Tav’s been annoyingly absent, disappearing into her tent the moment she finished pitching it, never to re-emerge that day. Astarion can’t help the way he finds himself frowning as he lounges outside of his own tent, taking advantage of the afternoon sunshine to read. His eyes occasionally flicker over to Tav’s tent, as though willing her to emerge and come sit by his side as she usually does during evenings at camp. 

Alas, apparently the tadpole wriggling around the recesses of his mind doesn’t grant him the ability to summon his lover through sheer force of will. Shame, that.

The rest of their party is clustered around the fire blazing in the center of camp as Gale works on preparing dinner, looking more witch than wizard as he stirs a large pot of simmering soup. The savory scent of sauteed venison and wild carrot and potato seasoned with rosemary and thyme wafts throughout camp, appetizing enough it’s a wonder Tav hasn’t slipped out of her tent to gather with the others in anticipation of their meal. Astarion’s frown deepens.

It had been yet another long day, hours of hiking overhill through the wilderness as they edged ever closer to Baldur’s Gate, up at the very crack of dawn just to immediately hit the road, barely taking time for a quick breakfast. Fortunately, they hadn’t run into any trouble along the way, no fiends offering deals or bloodthirsty worgs ambushing them, but it was a draining day nonetheless. Now, with Tav holed up in her tent, Astarion can’t help but be rather annoyed by her uncharacteristic absence, so accustomed to Tav being by his side as they laze around camp. 

Even if they weren’t actively conversing, focused on their own diversions and self-appointed chores, they always seemed to gravitate towards each other, Astarion reading while she sewed ripped tunics and trousers or had her nose buried in her sketchbook. Other times, they talked about whatever came to mind, Astarion regaling her with tidbits of tawdry city gossip or continuing to teach her how to embroider. 

There were often evenings spent sipping wine while reading together or playing with each other’s hair, Tav playing with his meticulously maintained curls while he attempted to tame her riotous mass of curls into a thick braid so she could sleep without her hair becoming a bird’s nest overnight. It was all very domestic. Sickeningly so, truly.

Never did Astarion think he would enjoy something so banal, let alone actually miss it when he was suddenly without it for an evening, but now with Tav nowhere to be found, he finds himself aching with the absence of it. He can’t stand it, the niggling dissatisfaction left by Tav’s truancy, the irrational worry that he had somehow done something wrong, something that would keep her away. Feeling inexplicably neglected and more than a bit petty, wrestling with the maelstrom of confused emotion roiling inside him, Astarion abruptly stands from his nest of cushions, snapping his book shut and carelessly tossing it aside.

It’s a rather short walk to Tav’s tent, the two of them typically setting up their tents across from or directly beside one another. It simply makes sense considering how often he slips into her tent for a little midnight snack, as well as some other nocturnal extracurricular activities.

Walking only a stone’s throw away, Astarion strides over to the entrance of Tav’s tent, poking his head inside, a snarky comment already on the tip of his tongue. But the words wither and die before he can so much as open his mouth as soon as he catches sight of Tav.

He had expected to find her absorbed in something mundane like darning a pair of Wyll’s socks or filling the pages of her thick sketchbook, reorganizing her pack or sharpening one of her many, many knives. Something innocuous that had managed to distract her enough to keep her from following her usual routine.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he finds her lying in the middle of her small tent on her bedroll, dressed down in her modest camp clothes. She’s lying on her side, curled up in a tight ball, practically hugging her knees to her chest. Her arms are loosely crossed on her pillow, her face buried in the crook of her elbow. Her hands are curled so tightly in the threadbare fabric of her pillowcase that her knuckles are bone white. Very softly, he can hear her let out a small sniff, followed by a faint, but pained, groan.

Immediately, all of Astarion’s annoyance vanishes as he looks at her, clearly uncomfortable and in terrible pain. It must be one of her migraines. This one must be especially bad. It’s perfectly obvious now that he’s belatedly recognizing the obvious signs; the way she’s sequestered herself in her tent, entry flaps closed to block out the intense afternoon sunlight, keeping her distance from the lively conversation around the fire.

Astarion’s chest aches as he looks down at Tav curled up in so much pain, wishing he could do something to help, that he could just take it all away, magically make it all better. He considers lying down beside her and pulling her into his arm, wants to stroke her messy hair and rub circles onto her back, anything he can think of to try to soothe her the way she does when he wakes in the middle of the night because of night terrors full of Cazador’s face and the echoing voices of his previous victims.

But he hesitates, not sure if Tav would welcome the touch or company in her current state, not wanting to exacerbate her pain or amplify her discomfort. Frown returning in full force, Astarion reluctantly retreats, carefully closing the tent flap to shut out the sunlight.

He lingers just outside Tav’s tent for a moment, gears turning in his mind as he tries to formulate a plan of attack. It doesn’t exactly come naturally, caring about another person, anticipating their needs, especially outside of the bedroom.

He’s not exactly a dutiful, generous friend like Karlach or Wyll, isn’t a healer like Shadowheart or Halsin, isn’t even dogged or determined enough to even attempt to be either like Lae’zel. But he does have plenty of experience with pain. He knows Tav does, as well, tight-lipped though she is about the exact details. The mere thought lights a proverbial fire beneath his feet and not a heartbeat later he’s hurrying back over to his own tent to rifle through his things, random bits and bobs he’s collected on their journey, either for their potential resale value or simply because he’d been able to get away with nicking them.

He combs through his bags until he finds the small copper tea kettle he’d swiped from the last village they’d passed through, humming in triumph when he does. Tea kettle and mismatched teacup in hand, he ventures back over to the fire and their gathered companions. He ignores Gale’s squawk of indignation as he helps himself to one of the large burlap sacks the wizard keeps their food supplies in. Rolling his eyes, Astarion snaps, “Oh, relax! I’m just looking for some tea. And some honey. Maybe a lemon. Do we have any ginger?”

“Is soldier okay?” Karlach asks, face pinched with genuine concern for her friend, nearly pouting. On either side of her, Halsin and Wyll mirror her expression, frowning in worry, Tav’s absence as glaringly obvious to the rest of camp as it was to Astarion.

“Just fine, darling. Nasty migraine,” Astarion dismisses, thumbing through the large tin of various tea bags Gale keeps on hand — one of the only benefits of keeping the wizard around in Astarion’s less-than-humble opinion — hoping they have some of the herbal blend Tav prefers when her head aches. “Thought I’d bring her some tea. Set aside some dinner for her.”

So absorbed in his single-minded search, Astarion misses the look Shadowheart and Karlach exchange, pursing their lips and smiling at each other almost conspiratorially. Clearing her throat, Shadowheart offers, “I have some more of those ginger chews if you’d like to bring her some.”

“And I’ve some honey for her tea,” Halsin adds with one of his unfalteringly friendly smiles, already reaching for his nearby bag.

“Oh!” Astarion blinks owlishly as he looks up from where he’s kneeling, Shadowheart and Halsin already passing him their contributions. He glances down at the offerings, not quite sure what to say, a bit stunned by their earnest eagerness to help relieve Tav’s pain, their willingness to help him with no questions asked or insults hurled. He swallowed thickly. “Well. I’m certain she’ll thank you both profusely, sweetheart that she is.”

He’s spared from trying to formulate a straightforward thank you of his own, the authenticity making him squirm, when Gale starts ladling out bowls of hearty stew, dutifully handing them out. Carefully balancing his bowl on his knee, Wyll passes Astarion their enchanted thermos for Tav’s portion of dinner, ensuring it’ll stay hot until she’s feeling well enough to eat, her migraines often accompanied by terrible nausea. With the cooking pot set aside to be washed later, Astarion sets up the kettle over the fire, setting aside the teacup with a bag of tea at the ready.

While the water boils, Astarion busies himself with bustling around the camp while their companions eagerly tuck into their supper. He slips the small bag of ginger chews into his pocket and retrieves his discarded book, occupying himself by fiddling with the cracked spine of the book and the wooden lid of the jar of honey, willing the water to heat quicker. The tadpole doesn’t offer him any help in that regard, either. Once the water’s finally boiled, Astarion rushes over to pour it into the prepared teacup, drizzling a generous dollop of honey into it before tossing the jar back to Halsin, the druid’s heightened reflexes on display as he effortlessly snags it out of the air without missing a beat. With everything prepared, Astarion gathers it all up: thermos tucked under his arm, his book in one hand, steaming cup of tea in the other. Turning on his heel with a grateful nod to their companions, he starts back towards Tav’s tent, pausing for a moment as another thought occurs to him, clicking his dog and calling over his shoulder, “Dog!”

Scratch tips his head to the side where he sits by Halsin, looking up at the druid with baleful eyes while begging for scraps. After a split second of hesitation, Scratch stands and jogs over to follow Astarion, the owlbear cub toddling after him in turn, the two of them a nigh inseparable pair.

Quietly as possible, Astarion pulls aside one of the entry flaps of Tav’s tent, wincing when Tav whines again from her bedroll, the pain clearly not abating on its own. Scratch immediately pads into the tent, making a beeline to Tav’s side. He plops down beside her with a soft sympathetic whine, his cold nose pressed against her elbow. The owlbear cub waddles after him with a low trilling churr, curling up on Tav’s other side, pressing its back to hers as it curls into a tight fluffy ball.

Astarion slips into the tent as well, closing the flap behind him. He remains by the entrance of the tent, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he just watches Tav. She sluggishly relaxes a bit, stretching out her legs with a sigh and shifting closer to Scratch. She uncrosses her arms with another sigh, throwing an arm around Scratch’s shoulders, fingers lazily brushing through the thick fur at his nape. Scratch responds in kind, sniffing at her face before dragging his tongue over her cheek in an affectionate doggy kiss. Astarion wrinkles his nose but Tav breathes a soft laugh, her voice a bit rough as she asks, “Hey, Scratch, what’re you doing in here?”

Smile returning, Astarion clears his throat as he steps father into the tent, stepping around the owlbear cub. There’s a spare cushion by the cub’s head, a tufted circular pillow in a creamy shade of white, one of the many Astarion’s collected during their journey. Astarion helps himself to it, carefully setting the tea and thermos down, reaching into his pocket to fish out the bag of ginger chews before lowering himself onto the cushion to sit.

Tav hums as she awkwardly rolls over, having to gracelessly wriggle around now that she’s sandwiched between her four-legged darlings. Once she’s gotten comfortable in her new position, burying a hand in the cub’s downy neck feathers, she opens her eyes with a wince and raises her head to squint up at Astarion.

She looks exhausted when Astarion finally sees her face, her smile weak and shaky, exhaustion evident in her eyes and the furrow of her forehead, fly-away curls falling in her face. But her voice is sweet as ever, if not a bit reedy, as she breathes, “Astarion… Hi…”

“Hello, darling,” Astarion greets with his usual near purr of a drawl, keeping his voice low in deference to her pounding head. He can’t resist reaching out to brush a wayward curl off the curve of her cheek, his fingers lingering on her skin to bask in the simple delight of just touching her. His chest aches at the way she leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she hums. He smiles at her fondly, adoringly, sure his infatuation is writ across his face.

“Brought you a little something,” he tells her, voice low. “Aside from your adoring furry fans.”

He moves the cup of tea closer until it’s within arm’s reach but not close enough to the owlbear cub to arouse its insatiable curiosity. Tav makes a soft sound of acknowledgment, eyes flitting closed for a long moment as she inhales the herbal bouquet of the tea. “Mmm, chamomile?”

“With wildflower honey,” Astarion confirms, preening to himself at how well he’s remembered her preferences when her smile deepens. He motions at the thermos and bag of candied ginger. “And there’s some stew for whenever you’re ready for supper. And Shadowheart gave me some of those ginger chews you like so much.”

“Oh, thank you,” Tav says softly, lowering her head back down to press her cheek against the thick plumage of the cub’s shoulder, smiling up at Astarion so sweetly it makes his chest ache, an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach.

His tongue feels thick and awkward in his mouth, all of his practiced lines evaporating into thin air in the face of her guileless sincerity. He has to lick his suddenly dry lips before he can manage what he hopes is an effortlessly charming, “Of course, darling! Anything for my favorite little treat.”

Tav lets out a low sigh, her soft smile persisting. As much as he hungers for her presence, the simple pleasure of her quiet company, enough to send him into such a tizzy earlier, he doesn’t want to disturb her. She’s earned her rest a hundred times over, deserves some time to herself to recuperate and relax. Stroking his knuckles over her cheek, he offers, “I’ll leave you be now, love. I trust you’ll be safe and comfortable with your loyal bodyguards in attendance but if you need anything, just call for me, I won’t be far.”

He begins to rise from his seat but Tav lets out a displeased noise, clumsily reaching out towards him, her fingertips only just grazing the cool skin of his wrist. He immediately freezes, eyes meeting hers, worried something’s terribly wrong. Her voice is a bit hesitant as she entreats, “Wait. Don’t go.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, my love?” He asks, watching the way her brows furrow, always so very reluctant to ask for anything for herself she deemed selfish or too indulgent, no matter how important it was to her. Never had Astarion ever imagined himself playing nursemaid, especially not willingly, but for Tav… Hells, for Tav, brewing her tea and spoon-feeding her soup was the least of what he would do. For Tav, he would wait on hand and foot, attend to all her needs and all of her seldom expressed needs. And all with only minor complaining.

“Just… Could you just stay?” She asks quietly, absently stroking her hand down the owlbear cub’s back where downy feathers give way to thick brown fur. Her cheeks pinken rather adorably as she adds, “ Maybe you could read to me? Or just talk? I… You know I like your voice. I, uh, I might end up falling asleep but… I’d like you to stay. If you want.”

If Astarion’s heart wasn’t the cold dead thing it was, he was sure it would be bursting at her words. Such a simple request, spoken with all the gravity of a solemn confession, a plea for absolution. It’s humbling. Something he’s determined to never take for granted.

“Well, when you put it like that! It’d be rather cruel of me to leave now, wouldn’t it?” He drawls, flashing his fangs as he sends her a haughty, flirtatious smile. He’s already cracking open his book as he shifts on his cushion, getting more comfortable. He notices the way her smile falters for a moment, quick to reassure her, “And yes, before you ask, I want to stay, I’m not just playing pity the sick girl.”

His chest fills with warmth even sweeter than sunshine as she smiles up at him as though he had just lassoed the moon and all the stars down from the sky just to present them to her. He’s rather tempted to do just that if it made her keep smiling at him like that.

Feeling as though he’s been set alight by her affection, he reaches down to gently card his fingers through her long curls as he begins to read, trying his damnedest not to feel like a complete lovesick fool as he reads nothing but love poem after love poem until the sun has long since set and Tav’s migraine is no more than a rather unpleasant memory.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 fic #bg3 fic #tavstarion #fic #my fic #amber writes

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 5: The First Butterflies

Summary: Halsin and Tav are given the chance to know each other a little bit better.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 5,647

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

Emerald Grove goes through its first week as smoothly as a cog with the winds in its sails. Halsin welcomes a variety of animals in his consultation room for reasons as diverse as the species he has seen. From a routine checkup to heavier surgeries, every animal receives care and devotion in his practice, either from him or Karlach, who never skips on the chance to give the pets a good cuddle before they leave. A few of them need to remain under observation overnight, especially for older patients whose state requires closer monitoring. Before going home at the end of each shift, the tiefling makes sure to spend some quality time with the animals, giving them enough cuddles and kisses to last a lifetime, not hesitating to stay for an extra unpaid hour. Luckily, Halsin has found himself so grateful to have such a dedicated assistant that he does not hesitate to pay her for what they affectionately name ‘cuddle time’.

If anything, Karlach has only improved in her work. Fewer mistakes have been made when logging in patient information or appointments, and Halsin trusts her enough to make new patient files for those who desire to make him their pets’ designated veterinarian. She is a fast learner, constantly working on welcoming anxious owners in the best way possible, offering treats to the pets and sweets to the humans, always slipping one or two extra to the tiny ones.

Astarion’s work is just as qualitative. Halsin cleared the guest room in his own home so the vampire could sew in peace with a proper workspace and in a way that the noise will not disturb or frighten the animals. As promised, he enjoys quite a lot of freedom when choosing fabrics and patterns, and his first shirts were already given away to freshly operated pets in recovery. As far as they are aware, no problems with the shirts have been reported and, in fact, many owners and their children seemed to have felt more in control of the situation by being offered a choice in silly and cute patterns for the recovery shirts.

On Friday morning, everybody is busy with their own task at Emerald Grove. The faint whirring of the sewing machine can be heard through the ceiling, but not so much that it becomes a bother or that it startles you. Every so often, the floorboards crack when Astarion moves around the room to fetch new fabric, patterns or his equipment. Downstairs, playing Led Zeppelin through the speakers, Karlach hums along to the tunes while managing incoming emails or putting away the delivered kibble Halsin ordered on Wednesday.

In his office, Halsin reads the files of his afternoon patients once their previous veterinarians have transferred them over to him. While reading the medical history of a rat struggling with chronic severe itching to see what treatments have already been attempted, he hears his work phone ping. Startled by the sound, he chugs the cold tea he has forgotten, so focused he has been on the record. He grabs the telephone and unlocks it, seeing that a text message has come in.

‘Good morning Doctor Silverbough, would it be possible to make a medical report for Beaky’s injury? The lawyer from the APO advised me to get one to add more weight to the lawsuit against Mr Bongle. I hope that’s not too much trouble! Thank you in advance.’

Halsin smiles from ear to ear as he realises that it is from Tav. Without thinking, he puts the phone down and opens a new document on his computer to type in the medical report. He adds all the information he can cram into it, even seemingly minor details to be safe, and joins the X-rays taken of Beaky’s paw before and after surgery to the file. Once all is done, he takes his phone again to answer her.

‘Good morning Miss Ashguard, this is no problem at all, I am glad that you are asking and I am just as happy to provide for Beaky’s well-being. To which email address should I send it? Doctor Silverbough.’

Swiping his thumb down, he consults missed notifications and skips some of them. But right as he is about to open an important email, the phone vibrates. Tav answered already.

‘Would it be possible to print out two copies? I don’t have a printer and it seems that the lawyer is a bit old-fashioned. I will be in Heawick today, I can just pick them up.’

Feeling an odd tingle in his fingertips, Halsin smiles at the screen. On the computer, he sets out to print three copies of the file to be safe, then types in an answer.

‘They will be waiting for you in my office, then. Come by at any time. I can also put them aside for another day if you do not find the time to come, should that happen. Doctor Silverbough.’

Then, he hears the little doorbell and puts his phone in his pocket. Time for his duty.

Later on, when all morning consultations are done and the printed medical reports are sorted on his desk, Halsin peeks outside the window. For once, it is quite sunny and warm outside, even for an early spring day. He decides to take his lunch break outside. As he puts his jacket over his scrubs, he lets Karlach know that she can close the practice for half an hour, and that she and Astarion can use the spare key should they wish to fetch something to eat in town. Then, carrying his old cotton sandwich bag, he goes out.

The small park has never looked prettier than on this fine day. As he sits on a sunlit bench, fondly watching the ducks quacking around in the pond, he enjoys his lunch on his own. His phones are silenced for this half hour, his only music is the singing of the birds over his head, although the occasional car disrupts the otherwise harmonious setting. Even when he is done eating, he rests his elbows on the backrest and tilts his head back, welcoming the warmth kissing his traits.

The rustle of plastic bags pulls him out of his reverie. He cracks an eye open and sees Melly, the baker’s mother, dressed in her infamous duck cardigan and carrying her groceries. Out of politeness, Halsin stands up and smiles at the elderly lady.

‘Good afternoon, Melly,’ he greets her warmly. ‘Isn’t it nice to see the sun again after so much rain?’

‘Halsin! What a surprise!’ the woman beams. ‘Oh, quite pleasant, indeed! How has your week been, dear? Everything alright at the practice?’

He invites her to sit down on the bench next to him, gracefully taking the bags from her and holding her hand so she can lower herself onto the small seat. What an unpractical design. They set the bags between them and begin to chat merrily. He tells her about employing Astarion for pet shirts, and Melly is nothing but intrigued to hear about it. He omits the vampire’s legal issues, of course, not wishing to breach confidentiality in the way that the lawyer seems to have done to help his cases. 

‘Now this sounds like quite the week, dear!’ she says while rummaging through one of the bags. She takes out a box of chocolate biscuits and opens it, before pointing it at him. ‘Would you like to share?’

‘Oh, no, thank you Melly. I am trying to watch out. The renovations and the opening completely threw off my eating habits. I want to get back to healthy eating.’

‘Oh, dearie, the occasional snack has never hurt anybody. You should treat yourself from time to time. Still no?’

Halsin chuckles and hesitates for a second before reaching into the box to catch a biscuit. As she does so too, she clinks her cookie against his, as though she is toasting. They laugh and savour the treat in silence, watching the ducks and their bring new twigs towards the little floating nesting box that the town hall had built for them.

‘There should be ducklings about soon, I believe,’ he says enthusiastically.

‘You really do love ducks, Halsin, don’t you?’

There is no hint of judgment in Melly’s voice. Merely affection, as always. Ever since he moved to Heawick, she has given him unconditional support, despite her having no particular reason to do so. At first, it was curiosity that brought her out of the bakery to inquire about the works done to what was once a woodworker’s shop. After a lovely chat during which he invited her in for tea and she brought some pastries, she seemed to have taken a liking to him and never hesitated to watch him work from the bakery and bring him food if she noticed that he had not taken a break in a long time.

Despite his advanced age, Melly is the coddling grandmother he never had. Whenever he sees her, while feeling the urge to be courteous and mannered, he cannot help but feel some childlike joy ignite within him. If anything, she is one of the reasons why he has felt like home from the moment he set foot in Heawick.

‘Mh?’

Feeling the old lady nudge him playfully, he realises that he was lost in thought. He jolts and chuckles.

‘Oh, sorry. Yes, I love ducks. And bears. They are my absolute favourites.’

‘That is good to know. And that explains the little duck on your reception counter.’

Halsin laughs again and sees that Melly is trying to stand up. He rises to his feet and helps her up, then picks up her groceries from the bench.

‘Let me carry them for you,’ he offers.

‘Oh, no, no, son, don’t you bother. You have to go back to work! Besides, I’m stronger than you think for my age.’

She takes the bags from him and pretends to be lifting weights just to make him smile.

‘Well, it seems that you are happy with your week, Halsin, it warms my heart to see it,’ she chimes with a pinch of his cheek. I’ve already heard from Arfer that he was most satisfied with your methods and Clawdia was quite jolly afterwards herself!’

‘That is all that matters to me.’

‘In this case, you should head back. I will see bring you and your two colleagues some treats on Monday. Ta-ta!’

‘Bye, Melly!’

While he waves at her, he takes a step away and feels that his foot is crushing another under its weight and his shoulder knocks into someone’s chest. As the other person yelps and nearly loses balance, he quickly catches them. Embarrassment dusts his cheeks with rosy hues, which only deepen when his gaze meets a pair of beautiful turquoise eyes. His breath catches in his throat instantly. His heart races. If not already holding her by the arms, his palms would grow clammy.

‘Miss Ashguard!’ he blurts out breathlessly. ‘Oh, I apologise, I did not look where I was going. Did I hurt you?’

Tav’s face illuminates in a heartbeat as she recognises him.

‘Oh, hi, Doctor Silverbough! I wasn’t looking either, I’m sorry. But no, no, you didn’t hurt me. Are you alright?’

‘Oh, yes, yes.’

They stare into each other’s eyes for a split second, before clearing their throats and letting go of one another. Halsin scratches the back of his neck.

‘How is Beaky?’

‘He’s doing great! Recovering like a champ, I must say. I’m really glad that you took care of him. You did great.’

‘Thank you. And it was a pleasure.’

Tav tucks a lock of her fiery hair behind her pointy ear and points towards the path she is coming from.

‘Were you heading back to the practice?’

‘Indeed.’

‘May I walk with you?’

‘Of course! I have the files ready on my desk, you can already take them with you.’

‘Brilliant!’

As they walk out of the park side by side, Tav admires the town with her hands buried in her pockets.

‘Beaky’s already going outdoors again, by the way,’ she says, ‘I hope that it’s alright for his recovery. He just couldn’t stay put anymore if I left him indoors.’

‘Was it this bad?’ he inquires with an amused laugh, seizing the opportunity to take in her beauty, although he refuses to admit it, even to himself.

‘Oh, horrible! He kept horsing around, breaking stuff because he just didn’t feel comfortable inside. He almost knocked down my dad’s ashes. Now that would’ve been hell to clean from the rug.’

Halsin snaps his head around in concern. He observes her expression, which remains oddly calm after mentioning her father in such a nonchalant way.

‘I am sorry for your loss.’

‘Mh? Oh. That’s okay. I’m used to his absence by now, I suppose. Besides, he’d rather have me laugh about it than cry whenever I talk about him.’ ‘Were you two close?’

‘When I was younger we were,’ she says, burying her hands in her pockets. ‘But towards the end, we were constantly bickering about my career. He just didn’t approve of it. Not even a revelation in his last hours or anything. He hated it until the end.’

They reach the practice and enter. Karlach’s eyes illuminate with a blend of excitement and mischief as she recognises Tav and notices the fleeting glance she gives Halsin. The two women wave at each other and Halsin shows her to his office. On the desk is a stack of three coloured files of the same size. He picks them up and hands them over to her.

‘Beaky’s medical report. I made you three copies to be safe.’

‘Thank you so much,’ she chimes, taking them and briefly skimming the report. ‘That should be of great help.’

Halsin offers him a warm grin. Oddly, he is not eager for her to leave just yet. They may not have talked for long, but he feels the same tingles in his fingertips as he did when she texted him earlier this morning. What in the hells are they?

As she smiles bashfully at him and turns towards the door, his heart races and his mind nearly short-circuits. He wants to speak with her just a bit longer. Has he been a good host? Probably not. Why would he want to ask her to stay? Foolish. Stupid.

‘Would you like to stay for a cup of tea?’ he blurts out before he can stop himself, causing her to halt and peer over her shoulder at him. He suddenly wishes that he could disappear on the spot. Melt into a puddle. Deflate like a balloon and fly out the window. Catch fire. Anything. Why does he feel so giddy when she is around? He does not know her, neither she does him.

When she blinks while considering his offer, he wants to tell her that he is joking but he knows that he is not. He clears his throat and decides to play it smoothly.

‘I also have coffee and water, if that is more to your taste.’

Tav shrugs and grins. Such a beautiful sight.

‘Tea sounds heavenly.’

‘Right. Um. Have a seat,’ he says, pulling out his desk chair, the most comfortable he has ever sat on. ‘What kind? I can make you mint tea with honey.’

‘Like when I felt dizzy?’ she recollects, tilting her head in the most adorable way. ‘I would love that. It was delicious.’

Halsin nods and disappears into the kitchen to put the kettle on. Just like the first time he met Tav, he takes a moment to take deep breaths to calm his maddening heart. He cannot believe that he is losing his composure like a teenager experiencing puppy love. He is supposed to be professional and serious. This practice has been on his mind for nearly twenty years and he has finally fulfilled his dream. Is he going to throw it all away from the start by developing a crush on a pet’s owner? The first one to have ever walked in his practice, on top of that?

He cannot let this happen. Whatever this is, he must rationalise the situation. First of all, he knows next to nothing about her. Second, she is obviously younger than him, she would be better off with people her age. Third, he is being immature and he should perhaps take Karlach’s advice and sign up on one of these dating apps or sign up to a whittling or wildlife photography club in his free time. He would be meeting other people there. Other women. More appropriate relationship could occur there.

There. His heart is finally quiet. But the boiling kettle is not, yet he nearly misses its signal that the water is ready. He hastily prepares two cups of tea and brings them over to his office.

He finds Tav reading the report while gently swinging from side to side on his desk chair. When she hears his footsteps, she looks up and closes the files, putting them away for safety, should she accidentally spill her cup.

‘Thank you!’

Halsin smiles and sits in front of her on the stool that originally stood in his guestroom but swapped for the chair so Astarion can work comfortably. The clinking of her spoon against her cup as she stirs the honey while holding the branch of mint soothes him. His office often feels much too lonely, and finally having someone visit him there that is not Karlach or Astarion feels rather special to him.

‘So,’ he starts, trying to break the awkward silence, ‘you mentioned earlier that your father disapproved of your career. What awful path is it that you chose for him to be so against it?’

Tav chuckles and takes a first sip of the tea, grimacing as she burns her tongue.

‘I compose radio and commercial jingles.’

‘That is quite interesting, actually! Anything I might have heard?’

‘Probably not, unless you listen to the radio. The commercials aren’t broadcast widely, they’re mostly local.’

‘Do you like what you do, then?’

She shrugs and dares to take another sip, which finally comes easier to her. Just like him, she wraps her hands around the cup to savour its heat and takes a second to smell the mouth-watering blend of minty freshness and the heartwarming sweetness of the honey.

‘I do, but I wish I could aim higher. Ah, at least my schedule gives me enough free time to discover the region. Sometimes I can go for months without commissions, so I do need to find temporary jobs to survive. At least my dad taught me how to be a good moneysaver.’

‘That is important. I hope you will manage to sign bigger contracts, eventually.’

‘So do I,’ she grins. ‘Anyway. May I ask you when you settled down in Heawick? I can tell you’re not from here from your accent. It’s not too obvious, but there’s a hint of one. Are you from… the east?’

Halsin laughs softly and the tingles resume. Godsdammit. How dare she pay attention to the way he speaks?

‘I am! I arrived about six months ago. I bought the house upstairs and I am renting the office space for the practice. I find it somewhat silly that they came separately, but it is working so far. But I am hoping to buy it by next year, provided that all works well.’

‘Ah, yes, I remember the two being separate.’

‘How did you know?’

Tav drinks half of her cup, sighing contentedly as the drink flows down her throat.

‘I actually made an offer for the house. I made it to the final list, but it seems that your case was stronger than mine.’

He widens his eyes in surprise. The unreasonable voice in his brain whispers to him that it is fate bringing them together, but its resisting rival reminds him of the list he made in his mind earlier. He does not know her. She is younger. Dating apps.

Hiding his reaction as best he can, he takes a sip and 

‘I apologise, had I known…’

‘Oh, no, not at all! I’m glad you got it. Everyone’s so happy that the practice opened, you know? That was the talk in Combury for the whole week!’

Blushing at the idea that the idea he has been cultivating for years brought such joy to the community he has been meaning to serve and help. He cannot deny that the sole knowledge of it is bringing him to the highest highs. Within the first week, he has already achieved what he assumed would take months to establish. Yet trust is easily given within and across these towns, it seems. It is much different from where he comes from.

There, despite towns being as small and close to one another, few people reached such levels of altruism and compassion as he has experienced in Heawick. Where he grew up, too many members within the same circles turned on one another over the pettiest quibbles. That was precisely why his parents preferred to take him and retire into a tightly-knit community, closer to nature.

His love for animals and the environment stems from this peculiar upbringing. Reverting to a simpler way of life, Halsin was raised surrounded by the same familiar faces who took turns in caring for him whenever something came in the way. Whenever his mother or father became ill, there was always somebody jumping in to help with chores or with feeding him. If anybody encountered a problem in their life, the community strove to tend to them as best they could until the person finally jumped over the obstacle.

Meditation in the forest was commonplace as well, and he quickly learnt to care for the animals that inhabited it. Despite being homeschooled and isolated from the rest of civilisation, he often snuck out to study in libraries and research things that he had never heard about when among his folks.

Indeed, not everything about it was as idyllic as it may sound. If a member decided to leave and pursue other interests or another lifestyle, they were shunned and became the object of much gossip. If the person had children, then they could no longer come in contact with the children of the community, no matter how well they got along. Many ties were severed abruptly in his youth as more parents realised how this concept that, while coming from good intentions, had turned rotten and corrupt.

As soon as he was old enough to gain independence, Halsin fought to leave the community. While ‘civilisation’ in itself never particularly attracted him, he believed that there would be something in-between this seemingly carefree group and the bustling, polluted city. And he found it in little towns such as Heawick. Ever since he left his family, never to speak to them again, he stuck to smaller populations, which always brought him comfort from their numbers alone.

Adapting was decidedly difficult at first, but once he found a way to fend for himself with the support of charities and organisations meant to help people like him, living in the semi-civilised world began to feel natural. He received a proper education to fill in the gaps in his general and specialised knowledge, and he was eventually able to study to become a veterinarian. And it was during his studies already that the idea of opening his own practice to connect people and serve them sprouted.

Now, it has blossomed. And what a blossom it is!

Halsin finishes his tea and leans against the table beside him, gazing at Tav.

‘Why Combury, then? Since you wanted to settle in Heawick, why did you not look for other houses?’

‘The house on Birch Lane wasn’t on sale yet, so there weren’t any other options in Heawick itself. And… I don’t know, I really wanted to live by a forest, so Combury was the other logical choice. Now I’m renting my house, which is on the forest’s edge like yours, and I own a patch of field behind it because of Beaky.’

‘Does your landlord agree about Beaky living on the property?’

‘I didn’t tell him. That’s why I try to keep Beaky on the field as much as possible. He’s happier there anyway.’

He tilts his head in disapproval.

‘You should tell him. It is a bad idea to keep it from him. I would not want you to be in trouble because of your kindness towards Beaky. Perhaps you can compromise on certain things. Just… Do not leave them in the dark.’

‘I know, I will. I just don’t know what to tell him,’ she admits, drinking the rest of her cup. She then glances at her wristwatch and stands up. ‘I’m afraid I must go, I’ve got an appointment shortly.’

While Halsin stands up and gathers the cups, she grabs the copies of the medical report and slips them inside her bag. He escorts her back to the reception, even forgetting to take the empty teacups at all, so eager is he to spend every second with her. When they find themselves near Karlach’s desk, unknowingly piquing her curiosity again, Tav rummages through her bag.

‘How much do I owe you for the report and the copies?’

The question takes him aback. Perhaps he is supposed to charge her even a small fee for making him work on Beaky’s case again, but honestly, he does not have the heart to it. After all, if this lawsuit can help with granting her compensation for the strife caused by Mr Bongle while showing that the court cares about wild animals as much as it does pets, then he can only be glad to have participated.

‘Nothing at all,’ he says warmly. ‘It was my pleasure.’

‘Doctor Silverbough, you’ve worked on this file and used precious ink and paper so I could have everything. Please, tell me how much I owe you. It’s only fair.’

Halsin gently places his hands around hers as she pulls her wallet out of the back. Unbeknownst to him, Tav is a blushing mess when he does it. It only lasts a split second, yet it is enough to turn her assurance into bashfulness and to nearly create an explosion as Karlach suppresses the urge to scream ‘I told you so’. 

‘I insist. Beaky’s well-being and his safety are worth much more to me than money. I assure you.’

Tav sighs, but a smirk curves her rosy lips. She takes out a note equivalent to a hundred gold coins and slips it into the tip jar on Karlach’s desk. Both the veterinarian and his assistant stare with wide eyes as she does so, not having anticipated her gesture, let alone the amount that she put in.

Before he can react at all, Tav takes his hand and gives it a firm shake, adding to his sheepishness.

‘Thank you again for your help, Doctor Silverbough.’

Halsin sighs as though he has been holding his breath for a thousand years. Still shaken up by her donation, his handshake is not as firm as he means it to be, and he wonders whether she would take it as an insult. Probably not. The people in his region would, though.

‘Thank you for… Well. The donation. Thank you.’

Tav chuckles and shakes his hand again, and this time, he does not disappoint.

‘Have a good week-end, Doctor Silverbough.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard.’

‘Goodbye, Miss Cliffgate!’

Karlach, quite speechless from the scene she has just witnessed, waves at her with a smile. She cannot help but boil inside as she suppresses the flaming hot urge to gossip about Halsin’s crush on Tav with Astarion.

Once Tav has left, Halsin is still facing the door, quite dumbfounded. He then hears a hardly dissimulated squeal as Karlach stomps her feet on the floor and drums her fingers on her desk.

‘Doc, do I get to tell you “I told you so” or not yet?’

He peers over his shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

‘Sorry?’

‘You have the ninth-layer-of-the-hells-hots for Miss Ashguard! Look at you, Doc! What was that about? Her touching your hand? Shaking it twice?!’

‘You are reading too much into things, Karlach.’

Halsin attempted to distract himself from the allegation by taking a distracted look at his agenda and checking the time. The tiefling elbows him playfully and pokes her own nose.

‘I’ve got a flair for romance, doc. Who do you think played matchmaker with Astarion? He’s married now!’

‘Miss Ashguard is the owner of an animal who happened to be treated and operated here. Our relations are purely professional. I have a code of honour.’

‘But you’re dying to breach it. I can sense it.’

Growing frustrated by the situation more than by Karlach, he rolls his eyes and prepares the consultation room for the rat with recurring skin rashes. The rest of the days goes by as smoothly as the rest of the week, and there comes the time for the team to close up shop for the week-end. Astarion joins them, carrying his sewing machine and a bundle of pet shirts of all sizes he gives to Halsin. Once he has taken a brief look and approved of them, he brings them over to the small storage room and sorts them into several boxes according to species and size.

While the vampire fetches the rest of his personal equipment and brings them downstairs, Karlach squeals as she gazes out the glass door. Halsin frowns and comes by her side to observe what is going on. Coming out of an indigo car is a man about ten years younger than him with brown and grey hair combed back yet maintaining a carefully tousled appearance. His purple shirt is unbuttoned at the top, revealing some of his chest hair and a peculiar symbol tattooed into his skin. In his hand wearing a simple golden band, he carries a thick bouquet of red roses.

Astarion, hating when he is left out of gossip, comes to look with them and lets out a groan.

‘Ugh, he should know by now that I hate flowers. What a silly gift!’

Halsin rolls his eyes with a smile and unlocks the door as the man approaches. He holds out his hand to him.

‘Hello, you must be Mr Dekarios-Ancúnin!’

Gale chuckles and shakes his hand firmly, acknowledging Karlach with a bright grin and a wink.

‘Just Dekarios, actually. I’m afraid that only one of us was allowed to change his name, and Astarion insisted,’ he responds with his usual charming demeanour. ‘You must be Doctor Silverbough.’

‘Halsin is fine. Please, come on in.’

‘Then Gale is fine too! Thank you.’

Upon seeing Astarion, who is forcing a smile despite hating the fact that he is being given flowers, Gale beams with pride and affection unlike anything Halsin has ever witnessed before.

‘Hello, my love!’ he chimes, going towards his husband to kiss him. ‘This is for you, for completing your first week without being fired!’

He laughs merrily, before slipping his hand into the vampire’s.

‘Jokes aside, I’m so extraordinarily proud of you, Astarion. Really. So I thought that maybe we could celebrate it tonight?’

‘Mh. Thanks,’ Astarion replies curtly at first. Thankfully, his grimace does not last as he notices the sincerity in his husband’s gaze. He returns the kiss and nuzzles the other man’s nose. ‘Fine.’

‘Great! I already have something planned.’

‘Ugh, this better be a hot bath with candles and wine.’

Gale simply winks, yet this is enough for Astarion to smile giddily. The teacher picks up the sewing equipment to help his husband carry it to the car. Everybody goes their own way, the couple to their car, Karlach to her motorcycle, and Halsin upstairs to his home.

After this busy day, Halsin takes a warm shower and only puts some underwear on before dragging his feet, clad in bear-shaped slippers, towards the couch. He lies down on it and covers himself with his favourite plaid, before switching the television on. He zaps from channel to channel until he finds a documentary on the ocean’s wildlife. He makes himself comfortable and takes a moment to finally relax after work, doing something he truly loves.

That is, until his work phone pings.

He sighs and picks it up from the coffee table to check the notification. His face instantly illuminates as he sees Tav’s name on the screen.

‘Thank you again for the reports! You’re truly an angel! I forgot to ask you something earlier, I was wondering if you’d accept to be Beaky’s designated vet? Like people have their own GP?’

Without the need to think, his thumbs type his answer.

‘It was my pleasure, Miss Ashguard. I usually do not do this, but Beaky was an exemplary patient, so why not? I will create the patient file over the week-end, so you have nothing to worry about. Enjoy your evening. Doctor Silverbough.’

He runs a hand across his face and places the phone beside him on the blanket to divert his attention back to the documentary, which is now showing footage of a shoal of fish swimming in a set pattern. Nothing short of mesmerising.

When the ringtone plays again, he instantly check his screen with an impressive reflex.

‘Thank you! Apparently, that’s the only thing I’m able to say to you, haha! Enjoy your week-end, doctor, see you next week!’

Next week? Huh. Beaky’s appointment is not before two weeks. Ah, for now, it does not matter. He will see her then. If he gets to see her in the week to come, he will be just as glad.

The prospect alone releases butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @cakenpiewhyohmy @reignydeys

#Little Town Tails #Halsin #Halsin Silverbough #BG3 Halsin #Halsin x Tav #Halsin x Fem!Tav #Halsin x OC #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Tav #Fem!Tav #Modern AU #BG3 fanfiction #BG3 fanfic #BG3 fic #Baldur's Gate 3 fanfiction #Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic #Baldur's Gate 3 fic #BG3 romance #Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fic #BG3 modern AU

[blackjackkent]

Suggestion for your fic prompt request :)

Jaheira and Karlach - "stories around the campfire" - Karlach is full of questions about the old days, and Jaheira tells her a story she may not have expected.

TYSM for this prompt! This one made me smile a lot. (I really love writing both Jaheira and Karlach, so writing both of them bonding is, as Karlach would say, aces. :D ) I really hope you enjoy it!

-----

Comrades and Lost Children

Pairing: Jaheira & Karlach Characters: Jaheira, Karlach Rating: G Warnings: None Word Count: 2.3k Setting: Several hours after the death of Ketheric Thorm Summary: Jaheira and Karlach share memories during a late night after the fall of Moonrise Towers. other bg3 one-shots | send me fic requests!

-----

A shadow among shadows, the black panther pads through the twisted forest outside Moonrise.

The curse is already beginning to fade with Ketheric’s death. The land is hardly yet safe, but the silent creature can step without pain in the milder patches of darkness. And it seems joyous in that freedom; a low purr rumbles in its throat as it darts repeatedly from the path to climb a gnarled tree trunk or roll in a struggling patch of grass, scenting out the places where nature’s strength is starting to recover within the broken landscape.

It’s a short journey north to Last Light, but the panther’s meandering route takes it past the moonlight-bathed building. Instead, it makes for the small camp where Hector and his companions have been lodging since their arrival in the shadowlands. Unsurprisingly, given it is nearly two in the morning, the camp is still and silent; only a lone tiefling figure sits up keeping guard by the slowly dying fire.

So softly does the huge cat move that Karlach does not at first notice its approach. It is almost within the circle of firelight before she registers it - but when she does, she moves fast, leaping to her feet with a startled cry and bringing her sword to bear on the beast. “Holy shit--”

For a moment the two of them stare at each other, unmoving. Then the panther's body begins to shift, magical energy flowing off it like a surge of dark water. Jaheira's lithe form uncurls within the burst of power into a standing position from the hunch in which the wildshape left her. “Is there a problem, Karlach?” she says, looking calmly into the point of the sword drawn on her.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Karlach says. She slumps with relief and lets the weapon drop to her side; a nervous smile bursts onto her face at once as she recognizes the other woman. “You scared the piss out of me.” 

Read More on AO3

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fic #jaheira #jaheira bg3 #karlach #karlach bg3 #karlach cliffgate #i enjoyed writing this so much; thank you for the prompt! <3 #i think i've decided these two are my favorite characters to write by far c: #(maybe tied with lae'zel) #also if i had a nickel for every time this week i posted something about jaheira getting wine-tipsy and opening up to someone #i'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice XD #no hector liveblog tonight bc i have gw2 raids in a little while but i offer this instead :D

[xpao-bearx]

Alrighty, my fellow Astarion fangbangers!! I've got a 🔥SPAHCY🔥 oneshot idea~

This is an idea that's been a parasite in my teeny brain for a while now and at first, I didn't wanna share it cuz I wanted it to be a surprise for when I actually write and post it. But to those who follow me, y'all know I just LOVE to ramble so I couldn't keep it a secret anymore 😂

And sooo here it is: A smutty oneshot of Spawn Astarion x Fem!Reader x Ascended Astarion!

Now you might be thinking... How the HELLS would a threesome with Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion ever work??? O_o

Well, lemme ramble some more! 😆

AHEM

Throughout your adventure, Astarion ascended and made his lover (you, dear reader ❤️) into his dark consort. After saving Baldur's Gate, you go to live with Astarion in his palace and start anew with your life of immortality.

At first, everything was going well. Astarion relished in the power he's craved so much and you stood by his side as his most prized treasure. And yet... There was a suffocating emptiness in your heart.

You were happy. Or...you should be. You were going to spend a wonderful eternity with your lover and you only gave Astarion what he's always wanted...right?

But as time passes, Astarion changes more and more. You still loved him, you will never stop loving him, but you couldn't deny that his dominance and possessive nature over you...unsettled you a bit.

Anyhoe, long story short, while you are just wandering around the palace one night and rethinking all your life choices that led you to this very moment, some ✨️magic✨️ happens and Astarion appeared.

Only...this was Astarion from the past. Before he ascended.

This story is still a work in progress so forgive me that this is all a mess, but basically this other Astarion is spawn Astarion! Spawn Astarion comes from another dimension where he never ascended. In that dimension, Baldur's Gate has also been saved but at the cost of spawn Astarion's lover's life--your life.

Astarion couldn't handle the tragic loss of his one true love so he became obsessed in finding something--anything--to be with you again, even at the cost of his soul. I'm still working out the details, but Astarion ended up finding something which made him transport to where you are now!

You are obviously baffled by spawn Astarion and can't quite believe it, but he's just so fucking happy to see you--to be with you--again. And maybe...just maybe...

You wanted to be with him, too.

But of course... There's ascended Astarion.

Beautiful, foolish treasure... Did you really think you could ever forsake your master?

Expect quiiite a bit of angst with this oneshot but, OF COURSE, some real nasty smut too! 😉 I plan to hopefully write and post this story after I finish the game and have experienced both spawn and ascended routes!

Also, I REALLY hope this doesn't cause any discourse! I, personally, prefer spawn Astarion but I also ADORE ascended Astarion (✨️nothing✨️ will stop me from simping for this vamp dork)! I know everyone has their own thoughts and opinions for both and which one is "better", but for me I just live and let live! Let everyone be happy with their own preferences, please 🥰

And I hope no one steals this idea of mine! Please correct me if I'm wrong, but I haven't seen anyone else have an Astarion fic like this so I would assume I would be the first to have this specific idea. If you were inspired by the premise and wanna write something similar, PLEASE credit me for the inspo but also tell me if you post it cuz I would absolutely read the SHIT out of it!! \(^o^)/ But yeah, just please don't copy the WHOLE thing cuz, like I said, I do plan on eventually writing this fic myself!

And hey, if ya wanna be tagged for when I post this fic, please don't hesitate to tell me! 💕

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfiction #BG3 Fanfiction #Baldur's Gate 3 Fanfic #BG3 Fanfic #Baldur's Gate 3 Fic #BG3 Fic #Astarion #Astarion x Reader #Reader x Astarion

[pastel-cat]

Flesh and Blood: Chapter 8

Title: Flesh and Blood - Chapter 8 Pairing: Astarion/Aya Series: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: E Summary: A surge of anger bubbled up in Astarion and he moved away from Aya, untangling her legs from his body. “If you don’t want this, you can say so,” he spat out.

*****

Astarion pushes Aya away and comes to a realization.

----------

Aya’s lips were soft, the moment tender and sweet.

Don’t do it.

Astarion tilted his head to deepen the kiss and closed his eyes.

This is wrong.

Aya’s fingers gripped the hair at the back of Astarion’s head as she made a small sound of surprise.

Push her away.

Astarion gave into the urge, seized Aya’s waist, and pushed her onto the grass.

Read More: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52148623/chapters/137890570

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 fic

[astarionancuninswife]

symphony (bard!tav x astarion)

My first official fic for BG3 and this was a fun one to start with!! The song that came on shuffle was Cody Fry's I Hear A Symphony - Live From Ocean Way Nashville. The first thing I thought of was a bard playing it, so that's what I went for. Kinda short, but a little drabble never hurt anyone.

Like I said, this is my first BG3 fic and therefore my first Astarion fic. I've privately written him recently, but this is my first public release of my interpretation of him, so I'm sure there's some discrepancies in his characterization. That being said, I'm always open to hearing constructive criticism, just be gentle with me.

Please enjoy!

word count: 840

warnings: N/A unless sweet sweet fluff is something you're wishing to avoid... or if you don't like real life songs being used in fantasy settings lol

ao3 | guidelines for requests | masterlist

It was just like any other night at the camp, a strange mix of people forced into companionship by unlikely circumstances minding their own business. Shadowheart sitting in thought at her tent, Wyll making conversation with Karlach about their adventures of the day, and so on. Tav is sure the others are doing interesting things as well to wind down for the night, but she isn't too concerned about them. Instead, she sits by the fire, pretending to simply be staring off into space as she strums her lyre idly, but in truth, she's watching a certain vampire across the way. He's reading a book like he often does. She's not sure of what the contents are, she's not interested in it anyway. 

She stops her hand for a moment and starts thinking of the song she had composed a few nights before and just hadn't been brave enough to share until now. It was rare for the bard to be nervous; her pieces usually were just silly little ditties made up on the spot about something funny that happened while out with a small party of her companions. Those didn't warrant a fear of criticism. 

This, however, was different, it's fully written and memorized. It's special, it's a song with a specific muse. And she's not quite sure how this muse will react when he hears this pseudo-confession.

After some thought, she softly begins to sing with her eyes closed, "I used to hear a simple song, that was until you came along," she takes a breath to steady her shaky voice, "Now in its place is something new, I hear it when I look at you," she finally opens her eyes with the last word, immediately meeting Astarion's through the flames of the fire. She can't quite read his face, but when can she ever? He's pretty good at keeping his thoughts tucked away from any detection when he wants unless she uses the tadpole connection to enter his mind. She would never though; she understands the need for privacy and consent with everyone, but especially with him.

So, instead, she begins strumming her lyre and continues her song:

With simple songs, I wanted more, Perfection is so quick to bore, You are more beautiful by far, Our flaws are who we really are,

It was then she saw recognition on his face, a smile threatening to grace his lips. He was holding back, but she was fine with that. The corner of her lips become upturned as well, she's more than happy to smile for the both of them at the moment. She stands up, finding her usual confidence again at his acknowledgment. And all at once, in her mind and in this moment, it is just her and him alone in the camp. No one else exists to her.

I used to hear a simple song, That was until you came along. You took my broken melody, And now I hear a symphony.

She does a few vocalizations to fill the gap between the last stanza and the outro, all the while never taking her eyes off the pale elf who has given up on keeping his lips from forming a smile on his face. 

And now I hear a symphony.

She strums a few more notes before ending the song, standing there by the fire with a stupid lovesick grin. She watches as he walks over to her while clapping a few times, "What a beautiful melody," he compliments, "I wonder who could have inspired such a poem."

Tav laughs at his theatrics, rolling her eyes as her cheeks heat up, "A mystery," if he was going to tease her, she'd play the game as well.

"Well, whoever they are, they must certainly be quite special to you."

"He is," she says, her voice filled with nothing but honesty, "I hope I'm even a fraction as special to him…" she trails off, looking at him softly before becoming self-conscious of her implications and looking away.

Astarion is quiet; it takes him a moment to realize how vulnerable she's being in the moment, how honest and open. A soft smile takes form on his lips again before leaning to kiss her forehead, "More than just a fraction, darling, much more," he says gently, just loud enough for her to hear.

After a few seconds of blissfully staring at each other in silence, clapping can be heard from another spot in the camp, followed by Shadowheart quietly scolding Karlach for ruining the bard and rogue's sweet moment. Which is then followed by the others all figuring out who won the bet of how long it would take for one of the two to confess having actual feelings for one another and who would be the one to make the first real move. (Lae'zel won both, plus a bonus prediction of how Tav would confess, though it wasn't much of a surprise considering she carried an instrument around like it's a necessity in life she can't live without.)

#astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin fic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion fluff #baldur's gate 3 astarion #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate fic #baldur's gate 3 fic #bg3 fic #songfic #mine #I still don't know how to properly tag fic posts lol