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#i have NO IDEA what shar looks like let me tell you
51ft · 7 months
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avocado-writing · 3 months
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Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆
ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...
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Astarion
really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.
can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?
you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.
if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.
holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.
as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.
Gale
curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.
wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.
makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.
you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."
fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.
when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.
Lae'zel
only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.
"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"
hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.
makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.
it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.
"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."
goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.
Shadowheart
obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.
immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.
it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.
"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."
her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.
"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."
she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.
Wyll
panics.
you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.
he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.
lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.
helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.
when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.
constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.
Karlach
another panicker.
scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.
begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.
you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.
carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.
Halsin
sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?
squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.
you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.
he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.
kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.
Dammon
my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.
waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?
when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.
he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.
he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.
Rolan
another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.
"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."
rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.
you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.
Zevlor
practical but still worried about you.
you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.
you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.
when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.
when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.
does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...
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I have an idea I would love to request but I wanted to check with you first! I couldn't help but think Astarion would be so infuriated & confused by me. Like when he held a knife at their throat, they're willing to give him a chance. Their reason is he has no real reason to trust them since he doesn't know them at all so they would show to him that they can be trusted. Then he's more confused when the first time he tries to drink blood from them, reader is shocked then immediately asks questions if it hurts, do they need to be healed, how should their position be so it's easier for him to drink, what would happen after that, etc. Even after he drank & they were feeling the effects, they asked if he still needed more. He answered them no confusedly before they were satisfied with his answer then passed out. He is both relieved and baffled at what just happened. What do you think of this? Please tell me if you're not interested! Thanks!
Local Vampire Spawn confused by care and offers of friendship, more at eleven.
~
Astarion, surprisingly, had gotten pretty lucky when it came to his newfound traveling companions. Two master swordsmen, a barbarian tiefling menace, and a Shar priestess were about the best one could ask for when it came to having protection. He could probably do without the do-gooder druid and walking time bomb of a wizard, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
And then there was you. The unofficial leader of the merry band of weirdos. Hyper competent, kind, and a powerful, and admittingly gorgeous, warrior. You would be perfection if you weren't so... frustrating.
Simply put, Astarion thought you were an idiot. A well-meaning, naive idiot, but a moron nonetheless.
What other explanation was there for your delusional trust in him? Your introduction had involved him pressing a damned blade to your throat, with every intent to kill you if you decided to struggle. Maybe even if you hadnt, if you had been alone. The correct response to a first meeting of that caliber would be to completely disregard him. Or kill him, for someone who had any conception of self-preservation.
But no, instead you gave him the offer to come with you, like that wasn't an absolutely insane thing to do. You had been so understanding, insisting that his penance for trickery and threats was justified. That you would be sure to earn his trust, like that was something worth obtaining.
At first, Astarion tried not to look too deeply into it. You were all going through hell, it made sense to travel in a pack, to find solidarity in others while trapped in a land full of endless horrors. It would explain why you kept the violate gith and the walking bomb around, despite their faults. There was also that foolish air of empathetic care about you at all times that helped explain things, one that extended far past Astarion himself. Though it did have limits. Astarion had borne witness to how unforgiving you could be when someone manipulated your trust. Though he completely agreed that the Hag known as Auntie Ethel fully deserved a slow, painful death, he hadn't been prepared for just how... literal you would take it.
So while you weren't completely without common sense, you still lacked a good deal of it. Like the fact that letting a vampire spawn drink your blood at night wasn't included in those same limits.
He hadn't even meant to open that particular door of feeding on you. It was just... so terribly hard to resist. You smelled divine, the scent of your blood always lingering beneath the surface of your skin. Cloying and decadent, the slightest whiff nearly enough to make his mouth water. He had been trying so damn hard to hide his true nature, feeding on whatever he could find in the dead of night. But none of it felt like enough. It should have been, he had more access to sustenance in the forest than he ever had under Cazedor's thumb. And wild boar were certainly better than sewer rats at the least.
But it wasn't enough to tame his growing desire for your taste. It had just happened. One moment he was simply on his own bedroll, staring up at the stars. And in the next the hunger was overtaking him. He was crawling over you before his mind could even catch up to his actions, his mouth already widening.
And then you woke-up, startled enough to knock Astarion out of his all-consuming thirst. You scrambled to your feet, staring at him with wide eyes as he struggled through an explanation. He had every expecation that this was it. This as the moment you would toss him to the side, realizing once and for all that he wasn't worth the danger.
But instead you just nodded along, the first question out of your mouth when he finished a simple, "Will it hurt?"
Astarion blinked at you, confused at you lack of reaction. He had admitted to being a literal monster for gods' sake. And that's what you were most curious about?
"Yes," Astarion said slowly, watching your face for every microexpression, "It will hurt, briefly. Then the pain fades into something a bit more... tolerable."
You nodded, asking another question, "Would I need healing after? Or would a bandage be enough? I would hate to wake Shawdowheart so late."
That was-he-were you actually considering this?
Astarion shook his head, hope and excitement starting to bubble to the surface, "No, a bandage should be fine. You might want her to top you off with something in the morning, but it won't be anything that can't wait."
"Okay," You said, nodding to yourself once before meeting his eyes with a determined gaze, "In that case, should I lay down? Or would standing be better?"
Astarion could scarcely believe your willingness. Part of him wanted to ask if you were sure that you wanted to do this, but his sheer lust for the taste of your blood shut that part down. Instead Astarion was reaching for your hand, gently tugging you down to lay back on your bedroll.
"This will be perfect," He murmured as he crawled back over you, his fangs protruding on their own accord, "Now stay still darling, we don't want to tear anything, do we?"
Astarion could just make out a lovely flush grace your cheeks at the pet name, barely visible by the campfire. It was a good look on you, that mixture of embarrassment and nerves, one that he wouldn't mind seeing again. But for now he had other appetites to attend to.
Astarion bit down, nearly moaning when the divine taste hit his tongue. Somehow it managed to taste even better than it smelled, warm ambrosia sliding down his throat, filling him with pure energy. It was an exhilarating experience, so much better than anything he'd ever tasted before. It was nearly too good, decadent enough for him to feel greedy.
He could feel you shaking under him, letting out the occasional whimper and whine. He was vaguely aware that this had been going on for too long, that he was taking too much. But it was so damn hard to resist.
It wasn't until you were gently pushing at him, whimpering, "I-I think that's enough."
There was the slightest touch of fear in your voice, the only thing that worked to pierce through his bloodthirsty haze. Astarion rolled off of you, licking his lips with a happy sigh. That was... better than he could ever have imagined.
He hopped up to his feet, sticking a hand out to help you do the same. You seemed woozy and unsteady as you stood, proving his suspicion that he had taken too much. It made the smallest lick of guilt creep up his spine. But it's not like you were ever going to let him do it again, he might as well indulge-
"Are you sure that was enough?" You asked, completely derailing his train of thought, "Will you be okay with just that? Or should we try again in a few hours?"
Were you actually insane?
"No my friend. I think I'll be fine," Astarion said carefully, "Another night perhaps. But, uh, are you okay?"
You shrugged, already sinking back down to your knees, snuggling back into your bedroll like nothing was out of the ordinary, "I'm sure I will be. Just a little tired now is all. Good night."
And then you were closing your eyes, out like a light while Astarion stood above you. Confused beyond belief. That was... how were you still alive? If this was the kind of thing you were willing to do for a near stranger, with nearly 0 reservations?
It was insane, idiotic, stupid. And now you just fell asleep right in front of the same man who cannibalized your blood? What the fuck was that? How was one supposed to respond to that? Astarion was grateful yes, beyond so. He went on to have a very successful hunt, even if his catches tasted worse than ever, they still left him feeling satisfied and capable. But he was plagued with thoughts of you the entire time. Thoughts that followed him through to the morning and the days to come.
You were so damn lucky that he was the spawn that was kidnapped. Half of his brethren would have already used your trust to bleed you dry before fleeing into the night. Gods knows what would have happened to you if it was Cazador who was taken in his place. That thought alone was enough to make shiver, clouding his brain with a massive discomfort at what someone like that would do with someone as... kind as you.
Astarion would never allow it. As stupid as you were, it didn't mean you deserved to be used. Well... by anyone besides himself of course. He was starting to think that he could use all of this blind trust to his advantage. Get you attached to him, force himself as a priority in your life that was worth protecting. But for that to happen you would have to stay alive. And that would mean someone would have to protect you from your infuriating self.
Astarion supposed that would just have to be his job. What it meant that the idea of doing such didn't fill him with resentment? He wasn't sure, and he sure as hells wasn't going to try and find out.
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whaledenwtf · 5 months
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Gale Dekarios X Sorcerer!Reader - Spin the Bottle
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The Gale girlies of tiktok got their clutches in me and I want him. I already had my hands full with wanting Astarion AND Halsin but now Gale too? I can't believe I've dedicated so much time to PIXELS. Anyways, here's some wizard sex. :)
AO3 LINK: Here Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: Here
Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Body Worship ( Female Receiving), Creampie, Oral (Female Receiving), Misuse of the Mage Hand Cantrip (oh yeah), Praise Kink, Spin the Bottle Trope, Angst too!!! Sorry
I try to keep Gale as close to his character as possible but the idea of even entertaining Mystra in the fic for more than half a moment fills me with anger. So I try to only bring her up during the angst.
WORD COUNT: 5325
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The last few days... weeks? Have been awful. Ever since you met all your companions in the wreckage of the nautiloid ship (and evidently, the wreckage of any normalcy) you've spent every day exploring the Sword Coast looking for answers and seeking guidance on how to rid yourselves of the tadpole. During the day, the heat is cooled by the breeze of the ocean, but nothing can quell the stress of the band of misfits you find yourself surrounded by.
"We should head to the cre'che. You may be too far gone, too weak, but I need the guidance of Queen Vlaakith." A chorus of groans echo Lae'zel's words.
"All offense, but I do not want a githyanki prodding in my skull." Shadowheart tells her annoyed. You roll your eyes, bracing yourself for the oncoming fight. You've been around them long enough to know that the daily Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight will have to be broken up by you, again. Lae'zel unsheathes her sword and points it towards Shadowheart.
"Just because you are a k'chakhi, doesn't mean (Y/N) can't understand reason." You look around and see everyone look annoyed. Well, almost everyone. Astarion always watches the fights with glee, bright smiles and wicked intentions.
"Excuse me? What did you just call me? I'll make sure Shar punishes you greatly." Shadowheart pulls out her mace. You can already tell this will get bloody. You walk in between them and put your arms out.
"Enough. For gods sake, both of you need to relax. You're both acting unreasonable." You cringe the moment you say those words.
"Unreasonable?!" They both respond, aiming their weapons at you. You roll your eyes, pulling out your staff.
"Point those weapons at me again and I'll make sure to cast a Hold Person so well you'll be stuck here until you transform." Everyone's mouths drop open at your words. You were a sorcerer, usually kind tempered, or you'd like to think so. This has been the tenth time you had to break up a fight between the two in the last three days. It was sickening, and you were at your wits' end. Astarion giggles with glee, clapping his hands at your words. You point your staff at him too.
"I'll cast it on you too-" He pouts at your words, no longer finding the threat fun when it's directed towards him. "Now all of you shut the hells up so we can go find more answers on what to do. No more fighting." Everyone nods silently. You exhale loudly and smile.
"Now let's go." Lae'zel scoffs, sheathing her weapon and bumping Shadowhearts shoulder as she walks past. You turn away and lead the group forward, going towards the Goblin Camp that is holding Arch Druid Halsin captive; the druids in the grove said he may have information on your tadpoles.
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"I'm afraid that I cannot heal you. These tadpoles are different, and have magic that even someone as experienced as I cannot remove them." Halsin tells you sadly. The group groans at the tall elf's words. After completely eradicating all the goblins and other beasts in the camp, Halsin is still unable to help.
"However, I was able to track that they are coming from the Shadow Cursed lands, and may be tied to the Moonrise Towers." This was news! Not as good as you were hoping, but its a lead! A start to an otherwise longer journey.
"I appreciate you trying Halsin. Thank you." You tell him quietly. He nods, his hand on your shoulder.
"I should be the one thanking you. You have freed me and explained what Kagha was planning to do to the Emerald Grove-" Astarion cuts off the Druid.
"Yes yes, we get it. We helped. Seems like we did it for no reason." Without turning your gaze away from Halsin, you wack him with your staff. After a loud thump and Astarion's "ow", you smile at the elf.
"No need to thank me, Halsin. Your information will guide us onward." He nods, frowning for a moment.
"Once I get back from ending the Rite of Thorns, I will meet you at your camp and join you on your journey. I hate to ask more of you, but I need assistance with eradicating the Shadow Curse."
"More help?!" Astarion exclaims. You turn around, ready to strike again, but Gale beats you to it. He does you a solid and wacks him upside his head with a large tome. Astarion flinches, complaining about his hair. You smile at Gale in thanks, who winks in response to you before you turn back to Halsin, blushing.
"I'm sure in ridding the curse we may find more information about the parasites." Halsin engulfs you in a hug, and you laugh patting his back.
"Thank you, little one. I will trek to the Grove now. You are more than welcome to join me." You turn to look at all your companions, some of which seem eager to go back to the Grove.
"I think we should, just incase a rampant goblin attacks you again." Halsin chuckles, before letting go of you.
"Then let us make haste."
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At the Grove, you watch as Halsin berates Kagha. Afterwards you see Zevlor run up to you.
"We must thank you (Y/N)! We gathered all our gold so we can give you something for your troubles." You watch as the man pulls out a small pouch, filled with everyone's gold. You felt pity, as the need to do good outweighed any reward, especially one so small. You knew taking their gold would leave them only with the clothes on their backs, and the supplies they had.
"Oh Zevlor, I cannot take this from you. Keep it for Baldur's Gate. We are just grateful we were able to help in time." He shakes his head.
"At least let us thank you. We can celebrate at your camp and share our wine and food with you." You ponder this.
"Something to destress may be necessary, lest we hear Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight again." Gale whispers in your ear. Your breath hitches. Ever since you pulled Gale of Waterdeep from the collapsing portal, you've been smitten. Despite his very human nature, his soft brown eyes, beautiful features and prose had caught your attention. He was gorgeous, and your heart yearned for him, mind, body and soul.
"If I have to hear the word cre'che one more time I might gauge my eyes out." You whisper back. He chuckles, the sound warm and it shoots straight to your core. You make your decision.
"I think a celebration with some wine, food and good company would be a great reprise from all the stress. We'll see you at sundown." The group cheers, excited for some wine and relaxation. This seems like the first decision everyone agreed with. You smile at them as Zevlor walks away, telling the tieflings about the celebration.
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You were already drunk off the vinegar-like wine, teetering on the edge of consciousness and depravity. You see all your companions scattered across the camp; some entertaining the company of the tieflings, others drinking on their lonesome. This won't do! Your drunk mind exclaims. Before you could act on it, Astarion walks up to you, smirking.
"Well, hello to you sweetheart." You blush at his forwardness. It seems everyday you spend together he gets more bold in his words and touches, but he isn't Gale.
"H-hello Astarion." You tell him, stuttering from your inebriated state. His cold hand meets your arm, and you startle, sobering up momentarily.
"Just a hello? I was hoping for a better form of greeting." You roll your eyes at his theatrics.
"And what would that form of greeting be, my beloved?" You ask him sarcastically. He grins, his fangs glistening in the lowlight of the campfire and lanterns scattered about.
"Perhaps a kiss? Maybe a night, with yours truly? I can make you feel things no man has ever made you feel before~" He grabs your waist and pulls you close.
"No things a man has made me feel before? That's cute, but won't work on me." You tell him, slapping the side of his face as though he were a child.
"Won't work? Darling, it's true! I will make you crave my touch~" He whispers to you. You laugh in his face, and he frowns at your response.
"You should go into comedy with such jokes!" He lets go of you and pouts.
"You're no fun." You smirk at his words.
"Oh I'm plenty of fun. You're just not my type." He is taken aback.
"I'm everyone's type, sweetheart. You're just lying to yourself- or your standards are quite low." You really can't entertain his theatrics any longer, your eyes already looking around for Gale.
"Alright Astarion. As lovely as this conversation was, I've got to go." You pull away from him, spotting the wizard near his tent, a glass of wine in one hand and tome in the other. You rush towards him, before your journey is cut off by Karlach.
"H-hey soldier!" You smile at the tiefling.
"Hi Karlach. Are you enjoying yourself?" She nods, her body swaying.
"Of course! Between my engine sort-of working for now, and the booze, I'm on cloud nine!" She tells you, spinning in place. You giggle at her theatrics, before stabilizing her when she gets too dizzy.
"I was thinking of playing spin the bottle! Now that I can't burn people it would be fun to play-" She gives you puppy dog eyes. You feel bad for Karlach, you really do. A victim to Zariel, and now to her infernal engine, you can tell she just wants to be hugged and loved. You hug her, grinning. She grips you back tightly, sighing into your arms.
"Let's gather the others! Can't wait for the inevitable Lae'zel and Shadowheart kiss." You both laugh. You let go of each other and rally the others. You manage to get Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion to join you near the campfire. Even Halsin decides to join, after you ask him sweetly. You're all sitting in a circle, with Halsin to your left and Astarion on your right. Gale is sitting directly infront of you, and you catch his gaze more than once. You decide that if anyone asks, the blush is not from the handsome wizard, but the booze. Yeah that'll work, you think to yourself.
"Can't wait to kiss you, sweetheart." Astarion tells you. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of a new bottle of wine.
"Get in line, fangs." Karlach tells him, smirking at you. You laugh at her words.
"Alright, alright. Let's get to kissing!" You smirk at everyone. After a minute of downing the bottle in your hand, you empty it and put it in the center of the circle.
"Now that little alchy finished drinking, who wants to spin first?" Astarion speaks up, smirking at your companions. With enthusiasm, Karlach shouts.
"ME ME ME!" You chuckle at her reaction, and give her the go-ahead. You watch her buzzing in her seat as she spins the bottle. It does one, two, three spins before landing on Wyll. They look at eachother, eyes wide.
"Oh shit-" Karlach whispers. The whole circle starts chanting, and after a minute of tense stillness they kiss. You all cheer, laughing and smiling. Then they don't let go, still kissing. The cheering gets louder,
"Oh gods, split it up." Astarion says, fake gagging. They split, gasping. Both of them are blushing, and you smirk.
"Had fun?" You tease them. They look away from each other, realizing the implications of their kiss.
"Alright, now Wyll's gotta spin!" You tell them, grinning. Wyll shuffles closer to the bottle, watching it spin until it lands on Halsin. You gasp, before cheering. Their kiss was quick, but you could tell Halsin was in control. He chuckles as they part, and Wyll sits back down. Halsin spins the bottle, and it spins for a solid ten seconds until it lands on Shadowheart.
"Now this will be interesting." Astarion whispers into your ear. You giggle into your hand, nodding. Your eyes split from Halsin and Shadowheart to see Gale watching you and Astarion's closeness with a frown. Before you could give him a look, you hear cheering. Your eyes glance back at Halsin, who pulls Shadowheart onto his lap and grips her tightly as they are kissing. Your eyes widen, lips parting.
"Oh." After a minute, they split, panting. Shadowheart stands from his lap, her legs left unstable from the powerful kiss. She fans herself for a second before spinning the bottle. It barely does a full turn before it lands on Lae'zel. You start laughing loudly.
"Absolutely not." She says loudly, already reaching for the bottle.
"Hey! No respins!" Karlach says, eyebrows furrowed. Shadowheart huffs. Lae'zel hasn't spoken up, just watching Shadowheart's plight with a grin.
"Fine. But watch yourself, githyanki. I will not hesitate to end you if there's any funny business." Lae'zel rolls her eyes, before pulling Shadowheart into a passionate kiss. Everyone's jaws drop as they kiss, all their verbal fights (and some physical, mind you) seemingly have turned into sexual tension. Lae'zel pulls Shadowheart into her, before pushing her under her. After hearing someone moan, you decide to cut it out.
"Okay, stop! Holy hells, if you're gonna do that do it in the privacy of your own damn tent." You tell them, grimacing at the sounds coming from them. Without a word, Lae'zel picks up Shadowheart and walks away from the circle. You guffaw, before turning back to the other companions, eyes wide.
"Um-" Astarion cuts you off, smirking.
"Alright! Since they left its my turn!" He claps, before spinning the bottle. It lands on you, and you groan.
"Come here, sweetheart." He whispers. As he closes his eyes, you give him a quick peck and turn away before he could wonder what happened.
"That was hardly a kiss!" He shouts, crossing his arms.
"Oh, boo hoo Astarion." You tell him, laughing. You spin the bottle. It does one, two, three, four turns, before it lands on the object of your attentions. Gale's eyes widen, and he freezes up.
"Pucker up wizard, it'll be done before you know it." Astarion sulks from beside you. You crawl towards him, blush deepening. When you get into his personal space, you sit down on your haunches and get comfortable. His hand goes to the side of your face, while the other goes to your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck and you meet in the middle.
This kiss was unlike any other you had in your life. The world around you disappeared, sounds muffled. All you could feel was Gale and his magical essence. You became tuned to one another, magic flowing freely between you both. His hands move around, the one on your hip going to the small of your back and pulling you closer, as the one that was holding your face goes to the back of your neck to hold you to him. Your lips open when his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Your tongues battle for dominance, and you moan into his mouth. That seems to snap him out of the trance, and he separates from you. You can see his deep blush, and he gets up and runs off. Your eyes follow him, and you furrow your brows.
"If he ran away because of your kissing skills, maybe I should be grateful you only gave me a peck." Astarion says. Your eyes snap back to his.
"My kissing isn't the problem. I'll go check on him." You get up, dusting the dirt off your legs and walking towards his tent. When you turn around, to glance at your companions, you see Karlach and Wyll cheering on Astarion and Halsin as they kiss. You roll your eyes and look forward, going into a jog so you could reach Gale's tent sooner.
When you get to his tent, you cough outside so he can hear you. You hear him mutter a "come in" so you enter slowly. When you enter his tent, your eyes widen. Its larger on the inside, and looks homely. There are towers of tomes and books, some old and some new, and your eyes are taking in the beauty of the bigger-on-the-inside tent that reflects Gale's personality. When your eyes stop wandering, you notice Gale sitting on the edge of his large bed, hands holding his head as he sits dejected.
"I wanted to check in on you." You tell him quietly, walking closer to him. He sighs, and looks up at you.
"I'm sorry-" You reach him in two short strides, and kneel so you are below him. His eyes follow your movements, and you see the sorrow and sadness lurking in his beautiful brown eyes.
"You never need to apologize to me Gale. Are you okay?" You ask him softly. He sighs again, frowning.
"I'm not." He says quietly. You know he's upset, by the succinctness of his words.
"You can always tell me what's wrong. You know I care about you-all of you." You save yourself at the last moment. Now's probably not the time to admit your feelings, especially when he doesn't seem receptive to your advances.
"I'm just-" He exhales loudly. "You're not the issue here, (Y/N). I am. Everything I have done, everything I do, was for her. Now I feel lost, between the bomb inside my chest and the tadpole in my head, I feel as though I have no control over anything." Your hands gently takes one of his, holding him softly.
"You are the most talented wizard I have ever met, Gale of Waterdeep. You have control over everything, more than most of us." He shakes his head, eyes getting misty.
"You're wrong, you know. I have lost favour with my goddess, and have lost control over my emotions it seems. I just ran away from you and you still check in on me. Gale's Folly, I once named my demise. But it seems everything I do adds to my torment, and it affects others." You go to deny him but he cuts you off. He turns to the side, looking in the distance.
"I have always known my purpose, since I was young. Hone my powers, control the weave. Serve my goddess. The universe that was once kind to me has turned against me, against my reverence for Mystra. I was cursed, am cursed. In the deepest darkest shadows of my folly, I met you. A sorcerer who I respect and admire greatly. Now I am destined to lose that too-" You grip his hand tightly.
"You have not lost me yet, Gale." You whisper gently to him. His face snaps back to yours, his eyes searching yours for the truth. All he sees is your honesty and admiration.
"I do not deserve you." He whispers, shedding a tear. You wipe the tear away, holding his face.
"It is I who does not deserve you, Gale. You've been hurt, badly. I would never expect anything from you more than what you are ready to tell me. You must know how important you are to us, to me." He looks down at his lap, pondering.
"I've always felt the need to do anything to serve Mystra. Even sacrifice the deepest parts of myself for her, if she had asked. Many times, she had. But you; you ask nothing more from me. You give without taking, and I don't understand how you think I am deserving of your kindness." He whispers.
"Gale. You are magnificent. I care about you, more than I care for the others. Ever since I pulled you out of that portal I knew that you'd be someone I'd care for. Since then, all I've done is fallen more for you. You don't need to reciprocate any feelings, but you have to know how much someone cares for you- I care for you. You are worth much more than Mystra has ever given you credit for." His eyes snap back to yours, widening at your words.
"I did not realize-" You cut him off gently, the hand on his face squeezing slightly.
"I was afraid to say anything. I understand your trepidation regarding your situation. If I was in your position I would have given up long ago. But please, please do not think for a moment you are not worthy of love. You are kind, good of heart and deserving of more than most of us in camp." He pulls you into a hug. Your arms find themselves around him, squeezing him tightly. Your head finds itself in the crevice of his neck, inhaling his scent of old books and hazelnut; a scent you could only describe as Gale.
"I'm sorry. I do care about you, deeply. I have not felt such a way since Mystra, but sitting here with you now, I have never felt such acceptance and understanding. I'm afraid of what darkness the future holds, but it does not seem as dim if you are there with me." He tells you into your ear. You sigh, nudging your nose deeper into his neck. You leave a soft kiss on the side of his neck before pulling away.
"I'll help you rid yourself of the Netherese Orb, and then the parasite. You are not alone." His hands grip the sides of your face.
"I can never feel alone when I'm with you." He pulls you into a kiss, and the adoration he feels for you translates in the movement of his lips. You kiss him softly, before pulling away.
"I do not want to take advantage of you when you are feeling so low." You gaze at him, admiring his looks. His eyes, long dried from the tears, shine in the light of his tent.
"I want to be here with you. No advantages are being taken. Please-" He pleads, begging for you. You bite your lip, and his eyes follow the action. He rushes forward, sliding off the side of the bed and kneels in front of you. He pulls you into a kiss, desperation and need coursing through his blood. You moan against his soft lips, all worries and fears dissipating into the night air. He pulls away from you, panting.
"Those sounds... You're entire being... No magic can compare to your beauty." He whispers, his breath fanning against your lips. You blush under his gaze and words, unable to reply.
"I want to show you my love the way gods do, please let me." He tells you against your lips, kissing you again. Your hands cradle his neck, thumbs trailing up and down the column. You pull away again, shaking your head.
"I don't need magic, or gods. Not when I have you right here infront of me." He pulls away, a deep blush on his face. You notice that it goes down his neck, reaching his chest; as well as the tips of his ears, which are also tinged crimson at your words.
"Are you sure? I can make you feel things, see things.... experience things beyond your wildest imaginations-" You cut him off, pouting.
"You already make me feel those things, Gale. Can't I have the man in front of me? I am no goddess, and you needn't seek my approval. You already have it." He nods, before taking your hands and pushing you forward so you're laying against the floor. His fingers link with yours and pull them above your head. You're panting, breasts heaving and grazing his own chest. His gaze trails from your features down to your neck, then further down to your chest.
"Gods. Seeing you in such a state makes me reconsider if I am truly cursed. You're ambrosial." His face goes to your neck, peppering kisses and licks up and down. You moan again, your arousal climbing higher. Your hips begin to grind the air, praying for solace, pleading for his touch. He bites down on you, blunt teeth tickling your skin. You gasp out, back arching so your bodies are fully touching.
"Please, please Gale." You whimper, eyes closed and lips parted.
"What do you need, my love?" He asks you huskily, still licking and kissing your neck.
"I need you." You wail out, eyes watering from his teasing.
"Not as much as I need you, my sweet." With a wave of his hand, both your clothes dissipate. His eyes wander, admiring your body. Your hands go to his chest, caressing the hair there. For a moment, your fingers hover over the tattoo, before touching it with such gentleness. He exhales at your touch, eyes closing while your hands wander. Your hands go to his shoulders where they caress the tense muscle there. He smiles before opening his eyes, adoration shining in them.
"You are a goddess." You squirm under his words, blushing deeply. His hands start to caress the sides of your torso, going up to your breasts. His thumbs start rubbing against your peaks, the rough texture of his fingers making you whimper. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, as you look at him pleadingly.
"Gale, don't tease me." His eyes glace up to your face, as he lowers himself closer to your chest.
"Don't worry my sweet sorcerer, I'll make sure this night is magical." His lips take in one of your nipples, as he begins to suck and bite. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. As he worships your nipple, his other hand begins to play roughly with the other one. His empty hand waves, and a mage hand appears and takes both your wrists in its mystical grasp, placing them above your head like Gale had done moments before. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.
You whimper under his actions, panting and arching into him. One of his hands trails down to the apex of your thighs, and begins to caress your core. You exhale loudly through your nose as you bite your lip, groaning. He comes off of your chest with a pop! and grins at you.
"My sweet, are you this wet for me? Can't wait to spread you open and taste you for myself-" His hands spread your legs as far as you can go, as he lowers down. You feel his breathe on your core. For a moment, nothing happens, but then he summons two more mage hands to hold your thighs open as he begins to taste you.
His tongue licks the side of your thighs, as he places open mouthed kisses on your hot skin. He does this for a minute, just worshipping your skin, and then he licks up your core. He moans into you as he tastes your slick, eyes closing.
"Ambrosial, just as I suspected-" He opens his eyes and looks at you as you watch him attentively. "I can't wait to taste you until I bring you to other planes of existence." He attacks your pussy with fervor, licking and prodding at you. His ambidextrous tongue works wonders on you, he spreads you open further with his fingers, as he brings his tongue into you. You gasp at the intrusion, hands struggling against the grip of the mage hand, wishing to push him further into you. As he continues to taste you, his concentration wavers and the mage hands dissipate. Your hands latch into his dark curly locks, tugging at him as you continuously plea don't stop. He chuckles into your skin, as he pulls away.
"I won't stop worshipping you until the end of the night, my beloved. I promised you magic, and you'll take it like a good girl." You whimper at his words, slick leaving you. He licks it up from the source, moaning into your skin. As he goes to take your clit into his mouth, two of his thick fingers caress at your entrance before going in to the hilt and curling upwards. You caterwaul at the attention, hands gripping his locks tighter. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers pistoning in and out of you. You feel your nirvana quickly approaching.
"G-Gale I'm close, so so close. Please-" You beg him, eyes closed. He hums against your clit as he curls his fingers curve upwards. You've hit your peak, back arching into the sky and thighs tightening against his head. You see explosions of colours behind your eyelids, and your body is weightless for many moments. As you come back from your high, you open your eyes to see Gale admiring your face; his fingers lazily pumping into you. You clench around his fingers as you pant, eyes still unfocused.
"O-oh-" You whisper, head hitting the floor as you close your eyes to try to get your bearings. Gale chuckles at you as he removes his fingers from you, tasting your spend on his skin. As your breathing gets back to normal, you open your eyes again to gaze at Gale.
"I want to please you-" He cuts you off, picking you up off the floor with relative ease and depositing you onto the bed.
"If you do that I know I will not be able to please you as long as I'd like." He tells you honestly as he licks his lips. You surge forward, capturing his mouth against yours. You can still taste yourself on his tongue, and it excites you further. Your legs lock around his waist and pull him into you, his cockhead bumping into your clit. You split from each other, admiring one another.
"Take what you want from me, Gale of Waterdeep." He moans at your words, and grasps his cock in his hand.
"You don't know how you affect me, (Y/N). Your words, your scent, your taste. I can't wait to take you and make you mine." As he speaks, he thrusts into you in one quick motion, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, the connection unlike any other you had ever experienced in your life.
"Please make me yours Gale. I'll be anything you want, do anything you want. Just make me yours." He begins to thrust into you, his pace rough and deep. He continues to hit that spot, and you feel your orgasm coming again.
"I'm s-so close." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his face. He turns and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix. You gasp against his lips, panting.
"That's right, sweetheart. Let go-" His words bring you to your crest, and you babble as your brain short circuits. As you reach your peak, he does as well, moaning out your name against the column of your neck. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, the clenching of your pussy too much for him. He collapses onto you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you. After a moment, you pull him into a gentle kiss, savouring the moment with him.
"You are perfect." He whispers to you as you part. Your hand caresses the side of his face.
"You are the perfect one. I hope I can spend the rest of this journey reminding you." You tell him softly. He closes his eyes, smiling at your words.
"How can I ever consider myself less than when I am in your embrace?" You blush, pulling him into a hug. After a moment, he gets up, getting a cloth to clean your mixed spend from between your thighs. Once he deems you clean, he lays back down next to you. You spend the rest of the night cuddling, hushed words of love and appreciation to one another.
The End.
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celiastjamesoscar · 8 months
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Cinnamon Girl
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Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: Getting a dog wasn’t the best idea, but Sam grew to love the fur ball when she found out you were the dog’s vet.
Warnings: light cussing, extremely fluffy, and I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed any!
AN: Came from this request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you love it!!!
If you guys want to join a Taglist, let me know!
My Masterlist
Word Count: 8.6K
It was supposed to be a quick trip to town; Sam needed some chili powder and beans to finish making her chili, and Tara wanted to tag along. Of course, Tara only wanted to go because she could probably convince Sam to get her something, and that definitely happened; it just wasn’t what Sam expected.
As the two sisters were leaving their local grocery store, there was a piece of paper stuck to the bulletin board, and as soon as Sam read it, she knew it was over for her.
“Oh my god, Sam, look!” Tara exclaimed as she walked to the board and pointed at the paper. On it was a blown-up picture of a mother dog and six puppies next to her, and underneath the photo read the words, ‘Puppies for free. Shar Pei and Malinois mix. Need all six gone, or they go to the pound. Text XXX-XXX-XXXX if you are interested.’
“Sam, we have to get one!” Tara said as she pulled out her phone and texted the number. “Absolutely not,” Sam retorted. She would not have a dog in her household that she would have to take care of inevitably.
“Why do you hate me?” Tara asked with a slight frown. She knew that if she played this card, Sam would have no option but to tell her yes. Sam stammered over her words but eventually said yes when she realized she couldn’t tell her little sister no. Tara let out a happy squeal as she texted the number, and as they left the shop and got into Sam’s car, she got a response. “They said we could stop by and look at the puppies right now if we wanted. And, of course, we want to,” Tara decided for her and her sister as she told the stranger that she was on her way. “Tara, we cannot just show up at a stranger’s house,” Sam retorted, and Tara scoffed at her words.
“We aren’t going to show up randomly; we’ve been invited. And besides, you’ve talked about getting a guard dog for a while,” Tara explained as she put in the stranger’s address and told Sam how to get there.
With a small huff, Sam listened to her sister’s directions, and the pair arrived at the stranger’s house within ten minutes. Any fear of this being a murderer’s house quickly disappeared as soon as Sam turned down a road near a golf course, and country club homes were lined up on both sides of the street. It was close to Christmas time, and every single house had Christmas lights hung up. And as the two looked at the lights, they both guessed that each house paid more for those lights and decorations than they made in a year combined. ‘It’s just October,’ Sam thought to herself as she gazed at the houses.
“Some of these houses are insane!” Tara exclaimed as her eyes followed a house with a giant statue of Jack Skellington dressed as Santa, and Sam hated to admit it; it was pretty fucking insane.
As the two drove by that house, the most beautiful and captivating woman Sam had ever seen stepped out of the house wearing scrubs, and she looked like she was in a hurry. A weird feeling shot through Sam’s chest as she drove past the beautiful woman getting in her car, and for the first time in her life, Sam wanted to ask for that lady’s number.
With a shake of her head, Sam continued her drive for another minute before she parked outside the designated house. It was one of the more expensive houses in the area, and when Tara texted the stranger about looking at the puppies, a sweet older woman came out of the front door and approached Sam’s car with a beaming smile and warm personality.
The woman introduced herself as Andrea and led the two sisters in her lavish home. “I know it sounds awful, but we must get rid of these little guys. My daughter, Y/N, lives just up the road from me, and the sweet thing is a vet. So I know she would kill me if I let one of these cute babies go to the wrong people. But you two look like lovely people,” Andrea explained as she led the sisters through her house and into the living room, where a small area had been boxed off as the mother and her pups slept together. “How old are they?” Sam asked as she looked at the puppies and felt her heart warm at the sight of the babies and their squished faces.
“Almost eight weeks; Y/N says that’s good for them to stay with their mother for that long,” Andrea replied as she opened the gate and allowed Sam and Tara to walk in. At the sound of footsteps approaching, a couple of the puppies began to stir, and one walked toward Tara and started to rub its face against the girl’s leg. “Hey, little guy,” Tara said as she squatted down and petted the puppy, “Am I allowed to pick it up?”
“Of course! Look at as many as you like; please wash your hands before you pick up the next one. Y/N’s rules,” Andrea said with a smile. Tara picked up the puppy and giggled when the dog licked her face.
The puppy was a brownish color with some shades of black and the softest ears Tara had ever felt. Along with his soft ears, he had the wrinkliest face of a Shar Pei and the stiff body of a Malinois. He had these brown beady eyes that Reminded Sam of Tara, and as she watched her sister play with the dog, she knew the two would be a handful. The dog might not be the best guard dog in the future, but at least he will keep Tara out of Sam’s hair.
After discussing it with Andrea, the two sisters adopted the dog and wrote down the advice of Y/N. “You know, I seriously think you and my daughter would get along perfectly, Sam,” Andrea stated as she walked toward Sam’s car. The mother was carrying a few bags of soft dog food and a more oversized bag for when he gets bigger, recommendations of Y/N, of course. “Oh, yeah? How come?” Sam questioned as she opened Tara’s door; her sister was carrying the puppy that had now fallen asleep in her arms and shut the door.
“I don’t know. Call it a mother’s intuition, but I know you two would get along,” Andrea replied with an all too-knowing smirk that Sam didn’t pick up on. If she played her cards right, she could finally set her daughter up with someone who wasn’t a psychotic woman who tried to murder people on occasion.
Not that your dating history was terrible; you just preferred women who might try and kill you in your sleep.
“What place does she work at? We’ll need to find him a good place,” Sam asked as she opened the back doors. “She works at Ocean Boulevard, just off of Cornelia Street,” Andrea replied as she placed the bags of dog food in the seat, and Sam closed the door.
“I’ll have to give it a try. Thank you,” Sam said with a smile as she said goodbye to Andrea, got in her car, and drove back home with a new addition to the family. As she drove away, Andrea pulled out her phone and called you, too excited to tell you about the new romantic partner she found for you. She might have been an over-the-top mom and was always trying to set you up with women, but she had a good feeling about this young lady.
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The sound of soft scratching and whimpering woke Sam up from her peaceful slumber. She groaned as she checked the time and cussed as she saw that it was a quarter past 1. “Warner, come on. We have to go to bed,” Sam heard Tara whisper outside the door, but it was too late; Sam was already getting out of bed.
“Hi,” Tara weakly said with an awkward smile as she held the puppy close to her chest. “What are you doing up?” Sam questioned as she looked between her sister and the dog.
“Warner wanted to come and visit you, and he wouldn’t stop crying until he got to see you,” Tara replied as she held the dog toward her sister. Sam winced when he yawned in her face, and the smell of puppy breath invaded her nostrils. “Well, he got to see me. Now tell him to go back to bed,” Sam commanded as she got back in bed, leaving Tara standing in her doorway.
“But he wants to sleep with you,” Tara spoke for the dog as she sat him on Sam’s bed. And sure enough, he walked toward Sam and made himself at home on the woman’s chest.
With a small huff, Sam allowed the dog to sleep on top of her while Tara climbed into her bed. “Not you, too,” Sam groaned, but Tara shushed her and quickly fell asleep.
As the minutes ticked by, thoughts of regret plagued her, but she was glad to see her sister this happy. And who knows, maybe she was about to meet the vet daughter Andrea was talking about.
Almost like a prayer, not even a week after Sam went to bed with the thought of you, she had to take Warner to the vet.
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When Sam came home from work, she only wanted to relax, drink some wine, and watch a movie or two. But all that came crashing down when she returned to a crying Tara sitting on the floor holding a more than excited Warner. “Oh my god, Sam! Thank god you’re finally home!” Tara exclaimed through tears as Warner wiggled out of her arms and came prancing toward Sam.
“What’s wrong, Tara?” Sam worriedly asked as she dropped her bag and went to Tara’s side. “Warner ate one of my Legos!” Tara shouted as she picked up the dog and placed a loving kiss on his head. Warner then tried to lick Tara and whined when she dodged it. The puppy seemed ignorant to the crying girl who feared for his life, and all he wanted to do was lick Sam and Tara.
“He seems fine,” Sam coldly replied, but when Tara gave her a death glare, Sam stood up and grabbed her back, “Alright, let’s take him to the vet then.”
The car ride to the vet was silent as Tara tried to calm down while Warner happily licked the more petite girl’s hands. It might sound stupid to most, but taking care of Warner meant that Tara could actually care for herself in her own eyes. She believed that if she kept the dog alive and gave him a long and happy life, she could also have that same life.
“I think he’s fine,” Sam stated but quickly regretted her words when Tara smacked her arm, and she swore she heard Warner do his dog version of a laugh. Sam could not wait until they got to the vet just to prove to her sister that the dog was perfectly fine.
And Sam also hoped that you would be there as well. Not that she was particularly interested in meeting Andrea’s daughter, but she wanted to see if you actually lived up to your mother’s kind words about you. And when Sam met you, she knew that Andrea was right, and then some, as the Latina could not pull her eyes away from you.
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It had been a prolonged day at the clinic today, nothing too crazy except for the occasional ‘help, my dog swallowed a mysterious item.’
“If I had a dollar for every time someone came in here because their dog swallowed something they weren’t supposed to, I would be rich!” Your coworker, Noah, exclaimed. You two have known each other for years, as you went to high school together, and both decided that you two wanted to go to veterinary school together as well. The two of you got along so well because you both never dated in the same pool of people.
“I feel your pain, but the night is still young, and I bet you that we will have another one,” you replied as you rolled over to his desk in your chair. “Are you seriously playing Solitaire right now?”
Noah scuffed at your question as he continued his game on the computer. “Yes, I am, thank you very much. And I am quite good at it; I shall have you know,” he sassed back before turning his attention away from his game and looking at you, “Your mother told me that she had found someone for you. Is it true?”
You sighed as you leaned back in your chair and threw your back. “Dude, you have no idea. She called me as soon as she met this woman. She went on this long-ass tangent about how I seriously need to give this woman a chance because ‘she had the softest brown eyes and held all the warmth I would need,’” you finished with a quote from your mother.
“She sounds like a real charmer,” Noah replied, “But seriously, how much should we trust your mother’s opinion? You remember the last girl she set you up?” At the mention of your last relationship, you shuttered. “Yeah, let’s not bring that up again. And besides, when did this turn into a ‘we’ thing?”
Noah scoffed at your words that cut him deep. “We have a bond, you and I. We shared a room on our trip to Italy because the group wanted to ‘contain the gayness’ so no one would contract it. That’s a bond that doesn��t break!” He exclaimed with a smile. “Being for real, though, You’re my best friend, and I want what’s best for you, even if that means having to butt heads with your mother from time to time.”
I know,” you said with a sigh, “I mean, at least she’s making an effort. Even if she sets me up with crazy ass women.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Noah joked as he returned to his solitaire game while you stood up. “You know, I kinda want to meet this woman. Just to prove to my mom that all the women she tries to get me with are absolutely insane,” you joked as you grabbed your telescope and put it around your neck while leaving the reception area.
Just when you started to walk into the back room to check on the animals that were staying overnight, the front door opened, and the bell rang. “Your turn to get it,” Noah stated while making no effort to check to see who was at the door.
You huffed at his words while walking toward the front door, and your breath hitched in your throat. Standing before was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, and she wore a tight, long-sleeve shirt that hugged her muscular arms perfectly. The shirt was also tight on her torso area so that you could see the faintest of an outline of her abs. And those eyes, you swore that they were the softest eyes you had ever seen, big and brown and enticing. All you wanted to do was get lost in them, but your mind was quickly pulled out of the gutter when a more petite woman stepped out from behind the alluring woman while holding a small puppy in her arms.
“My dog swallowed a Lego!” The girl exclaimed while walking closer to you, and you threw an evil glance at Noah when he chuckled at the girl’s statement. “Alright, let’s see what I can do for it. May I?” You politely asked with a smile while holding out your arms. The girl was hesitant initially, but after a slight nudge from the taller woman, she reluctantly handed you the puppy.
“Follow me,” you said while walking down the hallway and opening up a door to a room. You placed the dog on the metal table, and he automatically curled up into a ball and closed his eyes. “I’m going to need you to fill out these papers while I get the ultrasound set up and ready to go,” you stated while putting some paperwork on a clipboard with a pen and handing it to the more petite girl, as she seemed to be the one who cared about the animal the most.
While you got the ultrasound ready, you couldn’t help but feel eyes on you, and when you met them, you gave the taller woman the softest smile, and Sam felt her heart melt. When she first got here, Sam noticed your badge, and her heart did flips when she saw that it said ‘Y/N L/N,’ and Sam prayed that you were the daughter of Andrea.
“Here you go,” Tara said while handing you the clipboard, and you told her thank you as you took it from her. “‘Warner?’ That’s an odd name for a dog,” you stated as you looked over the sheets for the dog.
“Yeah, I named him after my favorite book character,” Tara replied embarrassedly as her eyes looked bashfully at the floor.
“Please tell me you did not name your dog after Aaron Warner,” you deadpanned as you stared at the girl.
A few beats of silence passed before she admitted, “Yes, I did.” You chuckled as you set the clipboard down and turned on the ultrasound machine. “I’m going to ignore what you just said,” you joked with a smile, and Sam had to fight back the feeling of jealousy that stirred in her chest.
“Okay, so I’m going to do an ultrasound on Warner’s stomach to see the location of the Lego, and then, depending on its location, I will be able to tell the best course of action. Is that alright with you?” You asked as you sat in your chair and rolled over the metal table.
“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” Tara replied as she walked over to the table and gently ran a hand down Warner, causing the dog to open his eyes and yawn.
A few minutes passed while you performed the ultrasound, and when you found the object in the puppy’s stomach, you pointed to it on the screen. “You can see the object right here. Now, he will be able to pass it just fine; giving him cooked asparagus will help him have bowel movements, and he should secrete it in a couple of days,” you explained as you turned off the machine and rubbed the dog’s head for good measure.
“Thank you so much,” Tara replied as she picked up the dog. “It’s no problem,” you replied while opening the door and motioning for the sisters to follow you to the front desk.
“Just come back in a week's time for a checkup, and I can do his routine checkup as well,” you stated while filling out a business card with your number and the clinic's address, and you handed it to Sam. When she took the card, her fingers brushed against yours, and you both felt a spark shoot through your fingertips and quickly spread throughout your bodies. Both of your heartbeats quickened and matched in rhythm, both of you too shocked to say anything for a few moments.
‘Umm… How much do I owe you?” Sam eventually asked after she put your card in her wallet. Realizing that you were still at work and needed to take money from this woman, you hated your job at that moment. “You don’t owe me anything,” you offered with a smile as you printed off the receipt for Sam.
A small laugh escaped Sam’s lips as she started to pull out her credit card, but you quickly placed your hand on the woman’s wrist, stopping her movements. “I’m serious; you don’t owe me anything. Consider this pro bono,” you said as you gave Sam’s wrist a gentle squeeze and a loving smile.
The feeling of your hand on her wrist gave Sam wartime she didn’t need, and she felt her heart rip apart when you pulled away after keeping your hand on her for a second too long. “I can’t let you do that,” Sam stated as she shook her head and handed you her card, and you accepted it only to hand it back with a smile. “Consider this a treat, and you can repay me by coming back next week for a check-up,” you reasoned.
A few moments of silence passed as you had a silent battle with Sam, but eventually, she surrendered and put her card away. “Are you sure?” Sam asked one last time; she hated having to be in people’s doubt, as it seemed that they held something over her head. But the thought of being in your doubt didn’t sound bad for some unknown reason.
“Oh yeah, I’m positive,” you responded as you followed the sisters toward the door and held it open for them. She didn’t know why, but Sam wanted to introduce herself to you. It might be because you just waived her undoubtedly costly vet bill or because she found herself attracted to you.
“Well, thank you. Seriously. I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” Sam said while sticking her hand toward you, “I’m Sam, by the way.”
‘You can repay me by letting me take you on a date,’ you helplessly thought but said, “It’s nice to meet you, Sam. I’m Y/N,” while shaking the woman’s hand.
Her rough hands felt heavenly against yours, and you could feel her strength as she tried her best to treat your hand with gentleness, something she wasn’t used to. You found yourself getting lost in her chocolate eyes, and you questioned how thieves bothered with petty art while her eyes existed; they seemed priceless to you.
An awkward throat cleared beside you, and you quickly dropped Sam’s hand while Tara looked between you and her sister. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Dr. Y/N, but me and my sister have to go,” Tara commented with an evil smirk; she could not wait to interrogate her sister about her tense exchange of names with you.
“I’ll see you next week, yeah?” You asked the girls, but in reality, you were only talking to Sam. “Of course,” Sam responded with a smile as her eyes quickly checked you from head to toe before leaving the clinic with her sister.
Once they had left the building, an arm was flung around your neck, and Noah pulled you against his body, “What did I just witness?”
“Nothing, just a friendly exchange,” you replied as you shoved Noah off you and sat at the reception desk. “Bullshit. You never offer free stuff because it will come out of your paycheck. And you and I both know that was over 500 dollars,” Noah retorted while standing over your shoulder.
“I know that.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Because I felt like it was a nice thing to do.”
“Nuh-uh. You just saw a pretty woman and instantly fell to your knees. You disgust me,” Noah joked with a disgusted face. “Oh, like you haven’t done worse. Remember that Tinder guy? You had made me drive you an hour to where he lived so we could stalk him at work!” You exclaimed as you recalled the memory.
“That wasn’t my fault! I needed to know if I was being catfished! And I was!” Noah defended, but after a few moments, he decided to let it go; he knew he would never win an argument with you.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you smugly said as you began writing down notes on Warner, and once you were done, you checked the time and stood up. “Alright, it's time for me to clock out. I’ll see you later, Noah,” you stated while grabbing your belongings and walking toward the front door.
“I’ll see you,” Noah called out with a wave of his hand while you disappeared outside.
The drive back to your apartment was a quick one and one filled with the thoughts of Sam. You knew it was stupid, but you couldn’t help but feel an undeniable attraction to the woman you had just met. Based on the details your mother had given you about the woman she told you about, you knew that this was the woman she mentioned. Those big, brown eyes and soft smile, you were head over heels for that woman. And unbeknownst to you, she is also head over heels for you as well.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What the fuck was that?” Tara questioned as soon as they got into Sam’s car. “Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam guiltily replied. She had hoped that her sister wouldn’t have picked up on her unmistakable fascination with you, but Tara knew Sam like the back of her scarred hand.
“Yes, you do. Why did you feel it was necessary to introduce yourself to her? You hate it when people know your name, especially strangers,” Tara challenged. She would get an answer from Sam, whether the woman wanted to admit it or not.
With a small sigh, Sam started the car and drove toward the apartment before answering, “I just felt like it was needed since she paid for the bill. Nothing else.”
“Mhmmmmm,” Tara replied as she studied her sister. She knew Sam was lying, but she wouldn’t press her for more information. Not now, at least.
Sam was grateful that Tara didn’t press on anymore, and she enjoyed the silence as she hoped she would be the one to bring Warner back to the vet. She found comfort in your soft and calloused hands, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to be held by someone. And if you had her without hurting her, you would be the first who ever did.
Sam knew it was crazy to feel this way toward someone she had just met not even an hour ago, but there was an undeniable spark that you both felt when your hands met. And she was pissed that she had to wait a week to see you again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That week was the slowest and most dreadful week of Sam’s life. Work sucked, and she had to work doubles almost daily, but she vowed to repay you for the vet bill. She thought about inviting you over for dinner to repay you, but she figured that you would want actual money instead of a nice, home-cooked meal where the secret ingredient was love and yearning.
Only when it was time to take Warner to the vet did she get out of bed with excitement, threw on a tank top that showed a little bit of her belly, and put on her trusty bomber jacket over it.
“Alright, Tara. I’m taking Warner to the vet,” Sam called out as she picked up the puppy and grabbed his leash. Warner started getting a little bit bigger now, but he was still small enough for Sam to hold him with one arm.
“What? I thought I was taking him?” Tara confusingly asked as she exited her room and frowned when she saw Sam heading toward the door. “And why are you so eager to take him?”
“I’m not; I just want to get this over with. And you can’t take him because you have your English paper due tonight,” Sam reasoned, even though she wanted to take Warner to see you again.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take him because you want to see the pretty vet lady again?” Tara questioned with a playful smirk and thought, ‘Got ya,’ when Sam quickly scoffed and automatically denied the accusation.
“Why would I want this little shit to the vet just to see someone? That’s absurd,” Sam denied as she grabbed her purse backpack, put it on her back, and opened the door. “But I’ll pick you up some food on my way back.”
Tara knew what that translated: don’t tell the twins, and I’ll give you some ‘hush food.’
“Sounds good! Be nice, Sam. And remember: don’t be silly, wrap your Willy,” Tara joked with a smirk while she walked back into her room and shut her door.
“I don’t need to wrap my Willy, do I, Warner?” Sam asked once she left the apartment and rubbed the dog’s chin. Warner responded with a small yelp while licking Sam’s fingers, agreeing with Sam in his way. “Come on, little guy. Let’s get you to the pretty vet lady,” Sam told Warner while walking toward her car.
She opened her door and sat him on the passenger seat, and naturally, he curled up into a ball and went to sleep. It amazed Sam how much the little shit slept; she was positive he slept at least 14 hours a day and was only awake to torment her. But Sam couldn’t say anything to Tara about it, as she believed Warner was the sweetest little guy out there. The two had that in common: both being little guys who were absolute devils when left by themselves. Sam had lost count of how many shoes he had destroyed, and she also lost count of how many fights Tara started with literal children on Roblox. It was safe to say that Sam was constantly busy between the two, and she only wanted to relax with you.
When Sam arrived at the clinic, she put Warner on his leash, held him just for a safe measure, and walked inside. “Hello, Warner is here for his check-up,” Sam said once she reached the reception desk. “Okay, Doctor Y/N is finishing up an orchiectomy, and then she’ll be right out. You two can have a seat right there while you wait,” the receptionist politely stated as she motioned to the waiting area.
Sam told the lady ‘thank you’ and sat in one of the chairs and Warner in her lap. She’d rather die than let the shit step foot on the ground for even a second, and she was grateful when he went to sleep. Several minutes passed while Sam tried to calm her mysterious nerves, and her phone vibrated, and she scoffed when she read the text message.
Tara: How’s it going with lover girl??
Sammy 👻: Waiting for her to get done chopping the nuts off a dog. Why?
Tara: Ummmm because you seemed way too eager to take Warner to the vet this morning
Sam’s phone vibrated with another message, but she didn’t get to read it when her head instantly shot up when she heard your soft, angelic voice. “Alright, make sure he keeps his cone on and doesn’t do anything too crazy,” you told an old woman who held her dog close to her chest. “Oh, I will, sweetie. Thank you so much,” the old woman replied with a voice that spoke with years of knowledge.
Sam watched as you held the door open for the woman before you turned to Sam, and when your eyes made contact, a giant smile grew on your face. “Where’s the sister?” You asked with a lovesick grin as you walked to Sam and stopped before the sitting woman. “She stayed home. Had a lot of homework to do,” Sam replied as she stood up and held Warner close to her chest. The dog started to wake up, and he whimpered with excitement when he saw you and began to squirm out of Sam’s hold to get to you.
“Hey, little guy,” you said softly as you reached out toward the dog, and Sam eagerly handed him over to you. You gave Warner scratches behind his eye, and he tried to lick your hand in ‘thank you.’ “You can follow me,” you told Sam as you began walking down a hallway and opened a door to an examining room.
Sam sat down in the corner of the room while you sat Warner on the examining table and rolled your chair over to the table. “How has he been since his last visit?” You asked as you put on gloves. “He’s been fine other than being a little shit most of the time,” Sam responded with a slight chuckle as her phone started to blow up with chain messages from Tara.
A small gasp left your lips as you pretended to be shocked, and you tried your best to ignore Sam’s phone. And your heart pinged with jealousy at the thought of someone calling Sam their girlfriend. You covered Warner’s ears and kissed his head, “Don’t listen to her. I bet you’re the sweetest thing ever.” The Latina scoffed at your words, but she enjoyed seeing how Warner loved you and the attention you gave him. She found comfort in that you could display such love for an animal and hoped that one day you could show her the same passion.
“Alright, little guy. Let’s start your exam,” you stated as you gave Warner’s head one final pat before grabbing your stethoscope and putting it in your ears. Sam’s phone continued to receive messages, and you couldn’t take it anymore, and you had to know.
“You got a boyfriend?” You asked while your eyes darted between Sam and her phone, which vibrated with text messages while you held the end of the stethoscope to Warner’s heart.
“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Sam joked with a smile as she tried to hide her nervousness and turned on ‘do not disturb’ on her phone. She had no idea why you would ask her that question unless it pertained to her phone, which was being assaulted with chain messages from Tara.
“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” You questioned with a flirtatious smile as your eyes scanned Sam’s muscular body, and your mind was instantly filled with the thoughts of you and her tangled in bedsheets. You moved the scope to Warner's lungs as you tried to return to reality.
“No,” Sam replied as she raised her eyebrow, trying to see what angle you were playing at.
“You never told me your last name,” you observed while listening to Warner’s breathing with your stethoscope.
“Why do you want to know my last name?” Sam asked with a nervous chuckle, hoping that you didn’t know her name from the Subreddits that accused her of the 2022 Woodsboro murders or that you didn’t read Gale Weathers’ latest book that called her a born killer and mentally unstable.
“Because I want to know what my future last name will be,” you confidently stated with a smirk as your mischievous eyes met Sam’s soft ones. You set down the stethoscope and then placed your hands on Warner’s stomach.
“Moving a bit quick, aren’t we?” The Latina pointed out after a few seconds. Tension filled the air with every second that passed, and even Warner seemed to pick up on it as his small head darted from you to Sam.
“Maybe, but U-Haul lesbians exist for a reason,” you reasoned as you palpitated Warner’s stomach, checking for abdominal pain or masses.
“I guess so. But seriously, why do you want to know?” Sam pressed on, “It’s Carpenter, by the way.”
You already knew her last name was Carpenter from the paperwork she filled out during the first visit; you just wanted to mess with her a little bit. And also find out if she had a boyfriend in the process.
“Because I would like to take you out to lunch sometime,” you said as your eyes refused to meet Sam’s. Any confidence that you had earlier disappeared when you asked the million-dollar question. “Only if you want to go, of course.”
“I would love to go to lunch with you,” Sam replied with a genuine smile, something she wasn’t used to doing. “Sweet! I’ll, um, I’ll give you my number once I finish up with him,” you embarrassingly said as your eyes met with Sam’s, and you smiled when you saw the excitement in hers.
Once you finished Warner's exam, you told Sam that everything was fine and that he should return next year for his next checkup. As you walked Sam out of the clinic, you pulled out a small notepad from your white lab coat and wrote down your number. “You don’t have to call me or anything, but I would like it if you did,” you told Sam with a smile as you ripped out the paper and handed it to her.
Sam gladly accepted the paper and put it in her jeans pocket, “I’ll text you when I get home, Y/N. It was nice to see you.”
“Yeah, likewise,” you responded as you held the front door open for Sam, and she left with Warner climbing over her shoulder and howling at you, telling you that he was going to miss you.
And true to her word, as soon as Sam stepped foot in her apartment, she set Warner down, and he automatically took off to Tara’s room while she texted you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The two of you talked every day, and you started to have lunch with each other every Friday. You two would talk about your week and your plans for the weekend while also talking about your personal lives. You told Sam everything about your childhood, and in turn, she started to open up more around you.
During your fourth lunch together, Sam opened up completely about her past. She was terrified that she would drive you away and ruin any chance at having a romantic relationship with you when she told you about her schizophrenia, past drug addiction, her biological father, and how she was in the most previous Ghostface attacks in Woodsboro.
“I knew about the attacks, Sam,” you told the woman once she finished speaking, and you gently reached your hand across the table and took one of hers in yours. You traced soft patterns on her hand with your thumb, “Thank you for trusting me enough to open up about them.”
Sam was dumbfounded at this news. She could not believe that you knew about the attacks but said nothing. “How come you didn’t say anything?” Sam deadpanned as her walls started to come up again, but she allowed you to still hold her hand and trace patterns on her skin.
“Because I figured it was something you would want to tell me on your own time or never talk about it,” you honestly replied, and Sam found comfort in your words as you continued, “I’m sorry if I upset you from keeping that from you. I didn’t know how you would react if you knew that I already knew about some things in your past.”
A dry chuckle escaped Sam’s lips, “I honestly probably would have ran if you would have told me.”
“Well, I’m glad I didn’t then,” you responded with a small laugh, and Sam gave your hand a gentle squeeze, grateful that you didn’t rush anything with her or try and force her to talk about her past.
Things between the two of you changed after that lunch; you two would FaceTime whenever you couldn’t see each other, and you would talk on the phone every night just before bed. The feelings you bore for Sam grew even deeper the more you spent time talking to the woman, and her feelings did the same.
Whenever the two of you didn’t have to work the next day, you would stay the night at the Carpenter apartment, and you were even invited to their game nights every Friday night. You quickly bonded with Mindy and Tara, and sometimes, when Sam was at work, they would invite you over for their horror movie night. You would engage in debates with her, and after enough conversations, you earned Mindy’s approval to date Sam, even though she would never tell you that.
Tara was a bit harder to win over, but when Warner would fight out of her grasp and make his way to you and how the little shit would lick your face as you laughed uncontrollably, she knew you were the one for her sister.
Sam was still the hardest to win over, ultimately. Yes, you were on her mind every second of every day, and she fantasized about what it would be like to wake up with you in her arms every morning and call you hers, but she was still scared of commitment. Sam wanted to love you; she needed to love you, but she was also terrified that you would hurt her in the end. And that is the reason Sam is in this current situation.
“Trust me, Sam. Women are crazy; just ask your sister. Finding the right woman is like finding a needle in a pile of needles: it’s impossibly stupid. But luckily, I have the woman of my dreams,” Mindy exclaimed with her hands, adding extra emphasis to her words while Tara nodded along. Mindy had forced Sam to sit down in the living room and lecture her on dating women, and she also had gathered the women of the group to talk to Sam and convince her to ask you out, whether Sam wanted to or not.
“Don’t try and flatter me after you called all women crazy,” Anika dryly stated. “Sorry, love. But anyway. Sam, you have found yourself a woman who is that needle in a needle stack, so you better not let her go!” Mindy shouted, and Sam shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She hated being the center of attention, especially during this current conversion. She had been with a few women before, but she had never dated one. And Sam also hated getting advice from one of the children she used to babysit.
“Alright, fine, I’ll ask her on a date,” Sam defeatedly said as she pulled out her phone and opened up her messages with you, “what the fuck are you doing?” Mindy questioned as she took Sam’s phone away from her.
“I was going to ask her on a date, just like you told me to,” Sam retorted as she reached for her phone, but Mindy held it away.
“Nope. You have to do it in person. Like a big girl.”
“That was not in the agreement. I have to ask our Y/N, and you never told me how.”
“Well, new rule: you have to do it in person!” Mindy exclaimed as Sam scoffed at the younger girl. “Mindy, we should let Sam do it however she wants. The point is that Sam will ask Y/N out, not how she will do it,” Tara reasoned. Mindy hated to admit it, but the little shit was right.
“Alright, fine,” Mindy huffed as she handed Sam her phone back, “But you better not fumble.”
“I’ll try not to,” Sam replied as she typed out her message to you, ‘Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?’ And she eagerly waited for a text message back as her nerves started to grow. Sam was on the verge of texting you and apologizing, but she saw that you had already responded.
Dog whisperer: Of course!! I was starting to wonder when you would finally ask me ;)
Sam 😮‍💨: Haha, very funny. Want to grab some dinner and come back to my place to watch a movie later today?
Dog whisperer: You don’t even have to ask! I’m free around 6
Sam 😮‍💨: Sounds good! I’ll pick you up then.
The smile on Sam’s face was comical as she texted back and forth with you while ignoring the insults being thrown at her by Mindy. She didn’t care; as long as she had you, she would deal with everything with a smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The date was excellent; you two went to a fancy restaurant, and you had to restrain yourself as Sam wore a tight, black dress that hugged her body perfectly and displayed her muscular arms. You two joked back and forth throughout the dinner, and when it was time to leave, you went to Sam’s apartment.
Sam gave you some more comfortable clothes to change into, and she did the same. You held the shirt to your nose and breathed in the comforting smell of Sam before you realized how weird that was and changed into the clothing. When you came out of the bathroom and joined Sam on the couch, the Latina lost her breath when she saw you in her clothing, and she couldn’t help but wish she could see you in her clothes all the time.
You guys watched shitty romcoms well into the night, and at some point, you fell asleep with your head in Sam’s lap. Not wanting to make you uncomfortable, Sam carefully stood up and placed a pillow underneath your head while she went to the loveseat couch and slept.
For numerous weeks, you and Sam would spend a couple of evenings a month doing that, and eventually, you worked up the courage to place a loving kiss on Sam’s check after you dropped her off at her apartment one evening.
By this time, it was well into December, and Sam was falling in love with you. You two didn’t put any labels on your relationship, but you both had feelings for each other even though neither of you said anything.
“Would you want to go ice skating with me later today?” You asked Sam as you were in her kitchen and helping her wash dishes. You had been invited over for dinner with the core four plus Anika, and while the rest of the group was in the living room watching a basketball game, you stayed in the kitchen to help Sam clean up.
“I would love to, but I have to warn you; I haven’t ice skated before,” Sam responded with a small laugh as she dried off a plate.
“That’s alright. That just means we will have more fun,” you stated with a smirk as you pulled out a dish from the sink and began rinsing it off. “Yeah, it will be so much fun when I fall on my face,” the raven-haired woman joked as she walked over to you and grabbed a plate with her left hand. A surge of boldness shot through Sam as she placed her right hand on your lower back and kept it there, silently waiting for you to push her hand off you. But when you turned to look at her with that soft smile only reserved for her and your eyes quickly glanced down at her lips, Sam moved her right hand even more, wrapped it around your hip, and pulled you close to her.
“I would love to go with you,” Sam whispered as she kissed your head. Long forgetting about the dishes, you dried your hands off and gently cupped Sam’s cheeks as your heart began to pick up its pace. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you slowly brought Sam’s face close to yours, and you could feel her breathing against your lips.
“May I kiss you?” You asked against Sam’s lips, and when you felt her nod, you slowly leaned, and you could feel the outline of her lips against yours when Mindy came stomping into the kitchen.
“Do not make out in front of my ice cream cake, you disgusting perverts!” Mindy exclaimed as you and Sam pulled apart at lightning speed. Sam awkwardly cleared her throat as she watched Mindy take a fork, shove it into the middle of the cake, pull out a ginormous slice, and put it on a plate before disappearing back into the living room, but not before sending you two a playful wink.
A few beats of silence passed before you cleared your throat, “So, about that ice skating?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On New Year’s Eve night, you took the group to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center. To say that the trip was a disaster would be an understatement. From Tara skating around like Tonya Harding and then purposely tripping small children that got in her way, to Mindy and Chad refusing to leave the guard rails while Anika tried to pry Mindy away from them.
“Come on, Sam. It’s not that bad,” you stated as you pushed off the rails and skated a few paces away from Sam before making your way back to the woman. “Shut the fuck up,” Sam whispered as her legs started to wobble. Ice skating was something she hated, and she hated you for convincing her to do it.
“Sam, I will hold you up the entire time, I promise,” you declared as you stood in front of her and placed your hands on her hips, “Just do one lap with me and we can call it quits.”
“I fucking hate you, you know that?” Sam whispered but she allowed you to guide her away from the rails. “I know you do,” you replied with a gentle smile as you skated backward while facing Sam. You had never skated backward before, but you would do anything for Sam, and your smile grew even larger when the woman placed her hands on your shoulder and pulled herself closer to you.
The first lap went like a breeze, and Sam was starting to get the hang out of it. She even felt confident enough to have you skate beside her and you two held hands as you went around another lap. You were getting ready to ask Sam to be your girlfriend when she hit a small bump on the ice and started to fall.
“I got you,” you stated as you gripped her forearms and pulled her back to her feet and steadied her. When Sam was finally stable on her feet, she felt her heart burst as she looked at your love struck eyes and hearty smile. “Thank you,” was all she managed to mutter before large shouting echoed throughout the area.
“Ten! Nine! Eight!”
You and Sam looked around and you saw that the ball was about to drop, and you pulled Sam closer to you. Sam smiled as she realized that she might have her first New Year’s kiss with someone she wanted forever and she refused to give that opportunity up.
“Am I allowed to kiss you?” Sam asked as she got closer to you. “You don’t have to ask,” you replied while Sam cupped your cheeks and you gripped her waist and pulled her body against yours.
“Three! Two! One!”
When the crowd reached one and the ball dropped, you sealed the New Year with a kiss from your Sammy. And that kiss contained the promise of years to come.
“Alright now. Break it up you two,” Tara joked as she skated over to you and you placed a quick kiss on Sam’s lips before pulling away. “Is everyone ready to go?” You asked with cheeks that were crimson red as Sam dropped her hands from them and you let go of her waist.
“Yeah, I think so,” Tara responded and you left the area with the group. You and Sam allowed the rest to walk a few paces in front of you, giving you two some privacy to talk. “So,” you said while lacing your fingers with Sam’s and pulling her into your side, “Would you like to officially be my girlfriend?”
Sam squeezed your hand three times and kissed your lips before responding, “I’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year’s Day.”
Sam tried to push you out and keep you at arm’s length, but you just found your way back in. There were so many things she wanted to say to you, like that you were the first person to hold her without me, but Sam waited until later that night to show you just how much you meant to her.
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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months
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COLLISION
Astarion x Y/N - Chapter 3 - 3.7K WC
Masterlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3 (you are here!)
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 NSFW 18+
Chapter 6 NSFW 18+
Chapter 7 NSFW 18+
_________________
“Are you sure? No shame in staying behind.” Shadowheart said as she adjusted the last strap on the dark justicar armor she lent you. She looked concerned and wary.
“I’m sure, like you said, we are just going to a cemetery to talk to Raphael then come back. Sounds easy enough.” You shrugged. No wonder everyone’s movement in the game was limited, armor is heavy as shit. 
Shadowheart paused, “How did you know it’s Raphael? I only said we had a devil to see…” she trailed off.
“Oh, umm…. With what you’ve told me this sounds like a Raphael thing… he has a certain flare for the dramatics that’s hard to miss.” You deflected trying so hard to sound casual. 
Shadowheart hummed but you could tell she was… suspicious. Before you could spiral into an anxious heap, Astarion walked swiftly between the two of you. Hitting your shoulder unnecessarily he said “Are we going to stand around all day coddling them or shall we go?” 
He always looked so pissed to be in your general vicinity and you noticed it more and more since the night you showed the group your phone. It had been a week since then, you worked with everyone to build your skills up. Everyone was pretty comfortable around you as of late, Karlach even going as far as to say she trusts you. So why was he the exception? You hadn’t done anything negative towards him? Was he upset about his reflection? Maybe you shouldn’t have sprung that on him? Whatever it was, it was making you both anxious and annoyed. 
Truth be told, you were still kinda new to playing Baldur's Gate III in your world. The last save you remember was finishing the last trial in The Gauntlet of Shar. You just hope your limited knowledge might be useful somehow. You have to be mindful however. Little slips like the one with Shadowheart, showcasing that you knew more than you let on, could cause unexpected consequences. You had a few similar slip ups throughout the week but were thankfully able to brush them off. And you still had no idea how to tell them about you, the real you. You decided to keep it hidden for now, and when somebody inevitably asks you’ll tell them all. 
——————————
You stepped through the portal with Astarion, Karlach, and Shadowheart. It left your body tingling for a moment. You looked around and vaguely recognized where you were. It’s definitely the Shadow Cursed Lands. The building in front of you looked abandoned but everything in the lands looked abandoned. You started walking forwards to the door of the building. You don’t remember anything bad here from your gameplay. The doors opened and you saw the first person outside of your little jolly group of misfits. She looked like a nurse and didn’t appear to be hostile. The others walked behind you as you slowly walked towards her. She was dipping a sponge into a basin of bloody water and cleaning the leg of a corpse. There were two of them actually. Both dead on separate beds, arms outstretched towards each other. 
“The doctor is quite busy today… you may wait in line to be seen.” The nurse said. 
“Why are you cleaning corpses, surely there must be something better to do.” Astarion said, typical sass in his voice but also confusion.
“Corpse? They’re merely sleeping…” she said softly, continuing to clean. 
“Mmmmm no, those are definitely dead.” He responded, tapping the lid of a nearby jar.
The nurse turned to look at Astarion. “Perhaps I should turn my services elsewhere?” She said dropping the sponge back into the bowl. She pulled out a bone saw and started walking towards him. His eyes widened.
“Sister, look…” you said, pointing towards the bodies. Her head instantly snapped away from Astarion. 
“Oh sister they’ve been so well tended to. They sleep like angels. They must be so grateful.” You said, eyeing Astarion as if trying to tell him to back up and shut up. 
She dropped the bone saw, grabbing your hands. They were cold and shaking. “Truly? These hands… the doctor must be notified of all patient improvements.” She said starting to walk towards the center of the house where a heavy closed door laid. 
“Wait!” You said quickly.
She looked at you, head cocked to the side.
“Your patients will wake soon. Who is lovelier to wake up to than their doting nurse? You stay, I’ll notify the doctor.” You smiled at her. 
She shook her head vigorously, “Right, they need me. The doctor is in surgery right now… wait for him there.” She pointed at the large door before grabbing the sponge from the bowl. “Take these will you?” She asked, dropping two rings in your hands. Shadowblade rings. They were Arabella’s parents. 
You pocketed them quickly and thanked the sister before silently backing up and walking away. 
“Is that your talent? Comforting deranged nurses?” Astarion jabbed. 
You elected to ignore him, not feeding into his negativity. 
You walked into the operating theater. The doctor had just removed a man’s eyes, the sisters cutting him randomly and harshly. Your eyes widened and you fought the urge to throw up. Seeing this in a game and in real life we’re vastly different and this was insanely more disturbing. 
Your foot hit some debris on the floor, notifying everyone of your existence.
“Are you here to aid in surgery? I asked for an attending hours ago…” said the doctor, flinging the man’s eyes off into a corner of the room. 
“Yes… of course doctor my apologies.” You detach yourself from your group. The man on the operating table whimpered and whined. His throat was all raw from the endless screaming you imagined. You walked closer to the man. The doctor handed you one of the nurses knives. 
You took it gently, the man continued to struggle against his confines. You looked at your companions, they looked at you with just as much anxiety as you felt. 
“Be ready” you mouthed to Karlach. She nodded, your companions slowly moving into different locations. 
You looked to the doctor who was holding a bone saw. You weren’t exactly in the *best* spot for a battle to start. Let alone your first battle. Let’s just hope somebody likes you enough to give Withers a little gold if the worst happens. 
You swiftly plunged the knife into the doctors throat, shoving the nurse next to you as you grabbed your sword. Lae’zel gave you The Cruel Sting for your first time outside of camp, bless her angry ass. You swung at the nurse on the opposite side of you, the sword ensnared her. The nurses spread out, your companions taking them on. The doctor turned his focus to you. “Petulant child…” he said before knocking you on your back, he held his bone saw under your chin. “Don’t fret, I’ll be sure to cure you of your…. Affliction.” He laughed while tapping his head.
You held your arm up just in time for the bone saw to clatter against your armor. Karlach shot her bow at him as soon as she saw you on the ground. The air stunk of drow poison and that seemed to be enough to turn the doctors attention. You scurried off the ground, driving your sword through him as he faced away from you. Karlach hit him with a reckless attack and the doctor dropped to the ground, finally dead. The hall was quiet except for everyone’s heavy breaths. 
You smiled at Karlach, impressed with yourself. The smile quickly faltered as you looked down and saw one of the nurses blades in between the metal plates of your armor. Karlach immediately turned and struck down the dying nurse. Shadowheart turned you quickly and pulled the knife out. You screamed, the sound bouncing off the walls of the theater. She spoke a healing spell over you, but her brow drew up in confusion.
“It’s not working.” She whispered.
“The fuck do you mean it’s not working? Fix it!” You yelled. You could feel the blood seeping through the different parts of your armor. Down your stomach, over your thighs…
“I’m trying!” She yelled back, rattling off another spell.
Karlach popped open a potion of healing, she grabbed your face and tilted your head back forcing the bottle to your lips. It tasted like wine; you could feel it envelop your body. As if it were coursing through you seeking out pain. You felt it stitch your wound together sloppily. You cried in pain as it felt like fire putting you back together. You lifted your armor, the wound was partially healed but that would have to do until you got back to camp. 
Karlach and Shadowheart asked if you were ok, sympathetic as they both know battle is new to you. Battle wounds are common but you never forget your first. 
“Your first battle scar! Congrats soldier.” Karlach said, trying to lighten the mood.
You blubbered out a chuckle, readjusting your armor. 
“I’m sorry we were here to see Raphael, yes?” Astarion said walking out to the graveyard without the rest of you. 
You sighed and began walking, doing your best not to grimace. 
———————-
Everyone listened intently to Raphael. He told Astarion everything you already knew. You had zoned out a bit, hand ghosting over your wound every few minutes. 
“And you…” Raphael said in a sultry tone, looking you up and down like a meal.
You closed your eyes desperately wanting to disappear. Of course the devil would know you weren’t of their world.
“Different aren’t you?” He said grabbing your hand, a swift prick to one of your fingers had you snatching your hand back. Raphael dipped the nail into his mouth, swirling your blood on his tongue. 
“Mmmm, very different. You’re not from here are you? Strange that you ended up with this lot. You’re far more valuable elsewhere. Have you told your new friends about you? What do they really know and what do you hide?” Raphael smiled as he looked at the others.
They all had their eyes on you. Leave it to the devil to make it sound like you were trying to infiltrate their party.
“Stop.” You whispered at him, the tone of your voice begging him.
“No matter. I’ll see you in time, pet.” Raphael gave you a final smile before snapping his fingers and disappearing into a puff of black smoke. 
“And you lot thought I was just being mean. If the devil says they can’t be trusted, what more is to be said?” Astarion asked aloud. 
You winced again as your wound stung against the armor. Karlach moved towards you. She grabbed your arm gently, looking at the new red spreading through the cloth under your armor. 
“We need to get back.” Her voice was devoid of emotion, flat and unwavering.
Everyone silently went through the portal back to camp.
————————
Gale patched up your wound so you could finally walk around comfortably. Happy to have the armor off of you, you walked to the campfire and began prepping dinner. Everyone else had gone to the stream to bathe or had retreated into their respective tents. You could tell that tonight may very well be the night you have to tell them all your secret. Why not soften the blow with some food? 
You made them Baldurian mash since it was all you could think of given your limited ingredients. You set up bowls and spoons and different bottles of liquor for everyone. Just in time, you saw them all trudging up the hill in their night clothes. Everyone looked at you with doubt and caution. 
Great. 
Everyone smelled the food and silently made their way to the bonfire before dishing themselves their food and drinks. Before anyone could get a bite down Astarion yelled. 
“Wait!” He jogged over to the fire.
“Are you sure we should be eating the food of someone who Raphael just told us was hiding things that seem to be of great importance?” He eyed the food and then you. 
You scoffed thinking he was joking, and yet nobody took a bite. 
You looked around, none of your companions meeting your eyes. 
“I may have secrets but I don’t mean any of you harm…. You all are the closest thing I have to friends… I’d never hurt any of you.” You said, voice small but strong. 
Astarion laughed, “Sounds like something somebody would say who is trying to kill us. Why else would you make all this?” 
That’s it, you’ve had enough of fangs and his attitude towards you. You stood and took a large bite of the mash before taking a swig out of every open alcohol bottle. 
“Proof enough for ya?” You asked, shoving past him. “I made all this because I wanted to be helpful. I want to be helpful because you all are my friends. I trust all of you even if you don’t trust me. So how about it fangs? Am I ok to stay or do you have anything else you wanna throw at me?” 
Astarion could see the anger in your face. “Let’s just hope your culinary skills are better than your battle skills.” He said walking past you, shoving your shoulder with his. 
Astarion expected the sniffle he heard from you.
“Astarion?” You asked. 
“What?” He tutted, turning to face you.
What he didn’t expect was the punch that landed square in his face.
“Shit!” You immediately recoiled your hand, already feeling the bruising on your knuckles. You shook your hand out before saying your final piece,
“I have secrets it’s true. And I am happy to tell them to you as soon as I figure out how. But I don’t want to hurt any of you…”
“Excuse me?” Astarion said as he held his bleeding nose.
“Zip it! You have been nothing but spiteful towards me since I got here. I don’t know what your damage is with me but we need each other like it or not. We all need each other. I will fight for you all just as you fight for me. Whatever side you’re on, is the side I’m on.” You finished. Everyone looked at you with wide eyes, occasionally glancing at Astarion and his busted face. 
Karlach stood and marched herself over to you. If this was the end for you at least it was Karlach taking you out, it’ll be a quick death. She held out her hand and you apprehensively took it. 
“Who amongst us doesn’t have a secret or two? I trust them and their intentions after seeing them outside the camp today. Y/N, you have my support and my trust.” Karlach said. 
You couldn’t help but tear up and engulf her in a hug. Thank god she had already had her tune up or it would have been a very short, scorching hug. She only faltered for a moment before hugging you back. 
“Enough with the doom and gloom Astarion. Please come eat, it smelled heavenly.” Karlach asked, walking back to her bowl and taking a bite. This seemingly put everyone at ease, everyone starting to eat and drink. Everyone sent you soft smiles or nods of approval as if to finally say “welcome, you’re here to stay.”
Astarion picked up his pride and went to hunt. He was so sure he could turn them against you enough to at least abandon you. Why did you have to be so damn sweet and honest with everyone? He knew he deserved that punch but it didn’t make him want you any less. 
You grabbed a bottle of Ithbank before heading to your tent for the night. 
————————
You awoke hours later. The camp was quiet except for a groan you heard. You sat up, it sounded like it was coming from the stream. Getting up you wore nothing but your large untied shirt and underwear. You crept over to the hillside. You saw Astarion with his shirt off splashing water onto his shoulder. The night was dark but you could see his hand was covered in blood. Punched or not, you wanted to help him. You slunk down the hill, thankful the riverbed rocks were smooth under your feet. 
“May I?” You said.
“Gods! Don’t do that!” He winced. “I don’t want your help.” 
“But you need it, you stubborn jackass.” You said, grabbing his hand and marching him back to your tent. You sat him on your bedroll before grabbing a cloth and pouring some water from your canteen on it. You gently pressed it to the slash on his shoulder. 
“Care to tell me what happened?” You asked.
“No.” He said bluntly.
“Looking to get punched again?” You said, quirking an eyebrow at him. He rolled his eyes as he tried to stifle the hiss he had to let out from the pain. 
“We could be friends ya know. If you weren’t out to get me for some unknown reason.” You said with a tinge of sadness to your voice. 
“And why would I want to be your friend?” He asked.
“I’m smart, funny, attractive….” You smiled as you listed. 
He let out a chuckle, “Might want to add vain to the list.” 
“Seriously though, why don’t you like me?” You asked, setting the cloth aside and going for some bandages you had in your camp pack. 
“I don’t trust you there’s a difference.” He said, looking at the ground.
“You’re a deeply mistrusting person and I respect that, but everyone deserves a chance. Have I done anything to make you mistrust me?” You finally looked into his crimson eyes. They were beautiful. Shiny like rubies and a deep crimson like blood. 
“You punched me in the face.” He said, meeting your gaze. 
“You deserved to be punched in the face.” You said, starting to wrap the gauze around his torso and shoulder. 
“Perhaps.” He conceded. 
You noticed a small cut to his cheekbone. Raising your hand, you ran your thumb under it. You grabbed the cloth you used to clean his wound and brought it to his cheek, dabbing softly at the dried blood. He caught your wrist in a soft grasp. You looked at each other, neither moving. The air around you felt thick. Thankful for the dim light from the bonfire, you were sure you were blushing unintentionally. Astarion softly pressed a delicate kiss to your wrist. 
“Thank you for helping me, it was very kind.” He sounded so sincere. You smiled and thumbed over his cheek one last time before pulling your hand back to yourself. 
The more you looked at him the more you noticed his sunken eyes, his slim cheeks, the aches that plagued him. 
Hungry
You jumped back a little not expecting to hear voices and feel a wriggle in your head. Astarion’s eyes flitted to yours, “You’re hungry aren’t you?” You asked in a whisper. 
“I didn’t drink as much as I would have hoped to… the bear apparently didn’t like fangs in it.” He said, gesturing to the bandaged gash. 
You pondered it for a moment. On one hand, he had been a massive cunt to you since you arrived and had punched him a few hours ago. On the other hand, he just let you patch him up and even thanked you for it. 
“If you want… you could feed off me? If it would help?” You asked, looking between his eyes and the ground, fingers picking at each other nervously. 
“You would do that for me?” He asked, genuinely confused.
“See? I’m not so bad after all.” You smiled as you pulled your laces at the top of your shirt loose revealing your neck, shoulder, and the top of your chest. 
He gulped and looked at your beautiful skin. He was hungry but he knew he’d have to repay you. He pulled you to him by your waist, planting you in his lap, straddling his hips. You knew what he was doing, what he was thinking.
“Astarion, stop. You don’t have to do anything. You don’t owe me… I’m doing this because I want to help you.” You said, shifting yourself to sit next to him instead of on him. 
He gave you a soft smile, “Apologies. I’m used to giving myself as payment. Old habits die hard I suppose.” 
You nodded, knowing his history and not wanting to trudge up bad memories. You leaned against the tree trunk next to your bed roll, exposing your neck to him. 
Astarion licked his lips subconsciously. His breath against your neck made you shiver. He kissed the junction between your neck and shoulder before sinking his teeth in. It felt like getting an IV needle shoved into your throat. The pain was quick, the feeling of blood being sucked out of you was what felt odd. Warm fluid being sucked out rapidly. He must have been hungry. 
After a minute you gently pushed against his chest. He snapped back to reality, pulling back and resting his head against your shoulder while licking up the little blood that spilled from the punctures. His breath was heavy and so were his eyes.
“That was amazing…” he whispered. 
You sat up a bit, pushing Astarion back. “Glad my blood is acceptable.” You joked, pulling your shirt back on properly and tightening the laces. 
It was beyond acceptable. It was… heavenly. It was beyond anything he had tasted or smelled before. It tasted sweet. Like the richest chocolate. It coated his tongue and he already wished for more. His gaze was glazed over, perfectly happy. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. 
You watched him. He was beautiful, truly. The feeling of arousal that shot through you while he drank made you feel awful. You knew his backstory and you knew he was in no position to do anything sexual. You focused on slowing your heartbeat down in hopes he wouldn’t hear it. 
He gently took your hand before kissing your wrist again, “Thank you. This was a gift, I won’t forget it.” He nodded before getting up and heading back to his tent. “Goodnight.” You heard him say faintly. 
You smiled as you laid down, happy that you two reached a truce. Maybe he needed a bit more care than the others, and you were happy to provide it. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a certain pale elf.
Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoy this new chapter. I hope to hear from you all in the comments or in my DM's. I really wanna try and write a few drabbles for y'all. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! :)
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warmsummersday · 3 months
Text
Succubus Spittle
~I had this idea where Tav sneaks some of the spider meat from the temple of Shar back to camp. When everyone goes to sleep in their tent she indulges a little too much, becoming I'll. Pain pulses through her body, but so does her desire to be touched. Her boyfriend Gale wouldn't be asleep yet, would he? Surly he wouldn't mind lending a helping hand, or tongue.~ (Consensual Sex, Overstimulation, PinV, FemaleTav, Creampie, Oh, and inappropriate use of the mage hand hehe).
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As the bonfire crackled illuminating the campground Tav waited patiently for her companions to head to their tents for the night. Gale sat next to Tav, telling another story from his time at Blackstaff Academy. Tav tried to remain interested, but only one thing plagued her mind. Tav had successfully snuck a hunk of spider meat away in her pack and she was desperate to take a bite. Tav was completely smitten by the experience of licking the spider meat. Gale was livid when he witnessed Tav do such a thing, it was the first time he had ever raised his voice at her. It's a little ironic Gale was so mad at Tav for licking the spider chuck when he had no issue when she drank from Auntie Ethel's well.
"Are you listening?" Gale spoke sitting up from his relaxed position to peek at Tav's face. "Hm?" Tav fixed back her attention to Gale. "Oh yes, sorry my love, apologies." Gale took Tav's right hand in his while glaring into his lover's eyes. "I know I ramble on most nights." Gale tightened his grip on Tav's hand giving a gentle squeeze. "I hope you don't grow annoyed with me." Gale looked longingly with an apprehensive expression. Tav took back her hand and cupped Gale's face peering into his loving brown eyes. "I will hear none of this," Tav spoke with conviction. "I adore your stories and your company." Tav moved closer to place a gentle kiss on Gale's forehead. "I'll join you in your tent later for a cuddle." Tav let go of Gale's face and let her hands fall into her lap. "How does that sound?"  Gale smiled in reassurance. "I'd like that very much."
Tav was finally all alone by the bonfire and reached through her pack to find her prize. She held out the hunk of spider meat in front of her and inhaled its pungent aroma. It reeked of death but something stirred deep with her loins. A pleasurable feeling indescribable from anything she has yet to experience. It came with intense pain, however, but it wasn't necessarily unwelcome. Tav did have Loviatar's blessing after all.
Tav bit into the hunk of spider meat and somehow managed to swallow without vomiting. Pain radiated through her stomach and throughout her body. Tav fell over and tried her best to cover the sound of her groans of agony. Then suddenly the warm velvety feeling of bliss pooled from her loins. Tav tried to create any friction by rubbing her legs together to no avail. She needed to be touched, and feel release but the pain in her belly prevented her from doing so alone. What really was the plan here? Tav thought to herself.
Tav looked up to see Gale's tent not too far away. Desperately she crawled to him on all fours, seeking his assistance. When she crawled through the flap of Gale's tent a soft, "help" was uttered from Tav. Gale was lying comfortably on his bedroll reading a book when he noticed his lover crawl into his tent clutching her stomach. His eyes widened and he dropped his book as he lunged up to aid her. "By the Gods what happened?" Gale spoke quickly as he pulled Tav farther into his tent and laid her on her back. Tav looked up at Gale in complete distress. "I need your help." She spoke breathlessly as her heart pounded inside her chest. Gale cast dancing lights inside his tent so he could see her better. He examined every inch of Tav's body for any signs of blood or injury. Gale moved closer to look at Tav's face. "You are sweating something terrible, my love." Gale's gaze fell to Tav's eyes. "Your pupils are fully dilated." Gale continued to examine Tav but could not find the source of the pain. "I will go get Shadowheart," Gale spoke as attempted to leave. "No!" Tav cried as she grabbed Gale's arm. "I don't need Shadowheart, I need you, desperately," Tav begged. "I don't understand what has happened Tav, please tell me what you need." Gale moved his hand caressing Tav's cheek. "Please don't be mad." Tav cried out in a soft whisper. "I ate some spider meat I hid away and if you don't fuck me, I'll die." 
Gale took back his hand. His expression turned to complete shock then with furrowed brows, disapproval. "You did what?" Gale's voice was vexed. "I told you to stop licking the damn thing, and you took a bite out of it?" Gale probed Tav for any response that showcased she was joking. Tav reached up to grab her lover's shoulders. "No!" Gale cast mage hand and locked Tav's wrists together pinning them down on his bedroll above her head. Tav squirmed and let out a soft moan from the ghostly hand's touch. Gale watched as she desperately wiggled and tugged at the restraint. "I'm sorry, please, I just need you to touch me." She softly pleaded. Gale exhaled his anger and tried to keep his growing arousal in control. "I told you to leave it alone because one it's gross, but two it was lased with succubus spittle." Gale raised a brow and feathered his beard. "That would be why you're incredibly horny right now,"  Gale smirked watching Tav's labored breathing. Tav groaned once more as her belly ached. "I would be more than delighted to help you, but I must be sure I have your consent," Gale spoke concerned. Tav opened her mind by using the tadpole and let Gale inside. She shared feelings of adoration and utter devotion. Tav also let it slip how she touched herself longingly some nights to thoughts of him before he ever confessed his love for her. Tav severed the connection and Gales lips embraced her own passionently. Tav's eyes opened to see Gale above her looking at her with pure infatuation. "No one has ever loved me so purely before." Gale kissed Tav once more before he pulled away. "This won't do." Gale positioned himself between Tav's legs and wrapped his arms around her into a tight embrace. Gale rolled to the left moving Tav with him until she sat on top of him. Suddenly Tav looked around to see them in the forest on a very exquestite bed. She looked at her wrists which were freed from the mage hand. Gale gazed at her with admiration. 
Tav smirked at Gale then lunged down to kiss her lover. At first, it was slow then Tav hungrily fought for more. Tav returned to her upright position straddling him to remove her blouse and bra. The air chilled her damped skin sending goosebumps throughout her body. Tav's head fell backward moaning at the feeling. Gale instinctually raised up from his position and embraced Tav nipping at the nape of her neck. Gale picked up Tav and swung her beneath him. Gale kissed her with excitement. Tav felt the hard bulge rub against her thigh. "I need you," Tav pleaded. Gale straightened himself up still kneeling between Tav's thighs.  He removed his shirt as he looked at Tav full of desire. Gale removed Tav's pants and panties and tossed them off the bed. Gale admired Tav's naked body under him, she was more beautiful than any Goddess. Just one night of passion could satiate him for a lifetime, but lucky for him he got another chance. He lowered himself down to kiss Tav as she wrapped her arms around him. Slowly he lowered himself past her shoulders as he trailed kisses down her neck, breasts, belly, and thigh. Gale looked up from between his lover's legs with eyes filled with lust. Tav looked down at him eagerly as she pouted, waiting for what felt like an eternity before he satiated her. Gale smirked before licking into her wet folds. Gales arms gripped around Tav's thighs holding her still as he devoured her like a man starved. He ran circles around Tav's sensitive clit as she whined at the sensation. Tav began to become overstimulated from all the sensations of the pain and pleasure from the succubus spittle. She desperately ran her fingers through Gale's soft brown hair slightly tugging at it. Without realizing it at first another mage hand hand restrained her once more by her wrists above her head. Tears began to form as Tav cried to be released. She wiggled the best she could but this only caused Gale to tighten his grip even more. "Oh Gods!" Tav screamed as she came closer to release. As Gale ravished her, a warm feeling began to pool into her. As Tav's eyes rolled in the back of her head she became undone. The best orgasm she had ever experienced came from no other than her handsome wizard and his practiced tongue. 
Gale arose and supported himself with his strong arms above Tav looking down at her lovingly. Tav breathed erratically looking into the eyes of her lover. "How was it?" Gale asked sincerely. Tav looked into Gale's soft brown eyes, she loved him dearly. Tav wanted more, much more. She needed to hurt to match the pleasure with the pain the spider meat had caused. Maybe there is a way for Tav to get what she wants, without Gale holding back. "It was fine," Tav spoke trying to hide a smirk. Gale's expression changed to confusion as he studied Tav's features. "Fine?"  He spoke plainly. Gale cocked his head slightly to the right in bewilderment, and then with a smug look, he let out a low chuckle. "Well, I guess I will have to try harder for you my love." His brown eyes darkened as he flipped Tav over on her belly. The mage hand repositioned to hold Tav's hand firmly behind her back. Tav whined and Gale firmly lifted her hips up thus pinning her face into the straw mattresses. "A lot of things are simply fine my love." Tav could feel the tip of Gale's penis line up to her entrance. "But what I'm about to do to you." Gale let out a low growl. "Will not be considered merely fine." Gale thrust his hips, pounding into Tav's soaking wet sex. Her cervix was hyper-sensitive and reacted to every thrust that hit it. Tav moaned loudly into the straw mattress as tears began to form once more. Gale tightens a grip on Tav's hips as he relentlessly continues, pace quickening even faster. Tav whines at the pleasure as she becomes overstimulated once more. Gale was quick to notice and guided his right leg out more to the side and leaned forward to go even deeper inside her. "Gods you feel so good." Gale moaned as he thrusts deeper and deeper. Tav is mock sobbing into the straw mattress completely overtaken by the pleasurable sensations. Gale leans down and runs his fingers through the back of Tav's head grabbing her hair. Without stopping his thrusts Gale pulls Tav's head up from the mattress by her hair. "Is this what you wanted?" Gale's voice was breathless and husky. "Yes." Tav managed to whimper out. "Where can I cum?" Gale spoke as his thrust became more erratic. "Inside, please, I want all of it." Tav pleaded with a soft cry. 
Gale let go of Tav's hair and gripped her hips firmly once more. With a few more hard thrusts he came deep inside her. Tav moaned as she felt Gale's seed fill her. After a few moments, Gale removed himself from her and tumbled beside her. The mage hand disappeared, and Tav regained movement of her arms. The first thing she did was move closer to Gale and lay her head on his chest. She listened to the rhythmical fast-paced beating of his heart. "Does it still hurt my love?" Gale asked softly as he swept away loose strands of hair covering Tav's face. "No." Tav chuckled. "I suppose I'll live." Gale laughed quietly. "Promise me you won't pull a trick like this again." Gale caressed Tav's face to move hers to meet his glance. "I love you, more than anything." Gale paused. "But if you lick a dead spider ever again, I'm taking you to a healer to get you evaluated." 
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oops-all-concrete · 3 months
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What would you think of how would each BG3 companions to Tav being secretly a god that has been tagging along with them all this time? Just curious
(SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS, MY BRAIN HELD MY MOTIVATION RANSOM MIDWAY THROUGH ME WRITING THIS)
Ooohhhhh this sounds funnyyyy
Context: I'm imagining Tav is a god and has God status, a place in the pantheon and everything, but-! So continuity makes sense and the whole journey is still necessary, I'd assume them a curious God of some miscellaneous small thing so their powers wouldnt be THAT useful anyhow (God of clouds, God of fur, God of bread) but yeah!
BG3 companions react to Tav secretly being a...God???
(MILD SPOILERS FOR ACT 1/2)
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Lae'zel -
She's suspicious at first, disbelieving of course. But as she watches Tav just summon (whatever they're the god of) from thin air, she frowns. "Chk. You may be of godly status, but if you're unwise enough to get kidnapped by a ghaik nautaloid, you are no mighty God." She finishes, nose upturned and almost- dissapointed??
Shadowheart -
Once shes been convinced, she frowns. "I don't think I've ever known of such a God...granted, Lady Shar only allowed for us to study her." She admits. She's quite hesitant, but she does ask. "Have you ever...met lady Shar/Seluné? Can you tell her I say hi? Is that appropriate?"
Wyll -
He's also hesitant to believe, but he's so curious once he believes you. "Wait, so, what's it like being a God? Does being a mortal feel weird? Are you immune to anything? What happens if you die? Does someone become the new God of what you're the God of? Are you even allowed to be here? What does the immortal plane smell like?" Just, a million and one questions and he wants ALL the stories.
Karlach -
"Woah! That's so cool, I wish I was a God...I'd be the God of potatoes. Is that already a thing?" Regardless if its true, she let's Tav have their fun. She also refers to every time she's saved by Tav as 'Divine Intervention' which isn't...wrong?
Gale -
"Ah, I got that impression, albeit with doubt." He says, sounding only a little smug. "Your disguise is well crafted, I'll give you that. Definitely something I aspire to learn from" he smiles fondly. Then there's a pause. "...I understand its not quite your field but you wouldn't be someone who could fix the whole...orb in me chest could you? Or would that also put you under Mystras ire?"
Astarion -
He seems immediately intrigued. "Really? I thought you were a little calm for all of this, but I never would have guessed- no offense. I'm sure you're very...powerful in your own way!" He says, somewhat forcing a smile. "So- does prayer work, or does the world have to be ending for everyone in order for you to pick up a summon?" He asks, curious, but seeming somewhat irritated too. He doesn't elaborate on why.
Halsin -
He seems doubtful at first but believes you quicker than you expected. "I hadn't imagined thr gods would send one of their own to come and save me from goblins or...help lift a shadow curse left by Shar of all people." He says, a faint smile on his face. "While I am in your debt, you should my life is already pledged to Silvannus. I hope what I'm already doing is enough"
Jaheira -
She looks Tav up and down, crosses her arms, and then- chuckles? "Sorry, I just- I feel like I finally have evidence I've been here too long. I haven't passed away to some dumb idea yet, so the Gods sent one of their own to get me." She laughs it off but then looks at Tab quite seriously. "...you're not here to get me are you?"
Minsc -
"I know!" He replies happily, not missing a beat. "Boo alerted me of your origins immediately. He's delighted to be joined by another of the pantheon, even if a lesser God" He smiles, mindlessly as ever.
119 notes · View notes
commander-rahrah · 5 months
Text
Talking to the Moon: Part IV
Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~4700 Warnings: swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort
archiveofourown: here
masterlist: here
part I: here part II: here  part III: here
Summary: Set at the end Act II in the Gauntlet of Shar. Shadowheart finally faces Reader/Tav's blessing from Selûne in the temple of her dark mistress.
Notes: We finally got to the angsty part between Reader and Shadowheart muahaha. I've had a couple of these lines stuck in my head FOREVER. Does anyone else play the game and immediately start thinking of the scenario and more detailed dialogue for their specific Tav?? No.. just me? ahaha...
Also — Shadowheart rejects Shar in this, as an FYI. If that isn’t your cup of tea or prefer other decisions, etc. that is your discretion for your own game, etc.! For the purpose of my fic and this specific Tav, that is the route I took and don’t want it to be a debate! 👍🏽 Cause I know that happens in fandom sometimes - and that’s not what this fangirl is about baby!
I also just really really love the idea of letting Astarion and Reader/Tav explore things sloooooooooowly. Like little tiny fingertip touches and touching shoulders. I think that Astarion being emotionally vulnerable with someone first and slowly building up to being physical intimate is just MUAH chef’s kiss.
ANYWAYS Ted talk over — Thank you so much for reading and interacting! It means so much to me ♡♡♡
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“Tell me another thing.”
It was Astarion’s new favorite game — asking for you to confide in him, to tell him about how you see him. The things that made you fall for him. 
Each one had made him feel more and more seen. More and more safe. Some had been surprising characteristics he would have never assigned to himself — but you had explained them so earnestly that he couldn’t help but believe you. You had said he was strong, that he had more strength than he realized. That he was funny (obviously). That he was open-minded. 
He was collecting the compliments and observations, letting them stroke the flame inside of him that he had long thought dead. 
“Hmmm…,” You were sat on the worn, dirty floor leaning against a crumpling wall. The group was taking a moment to rest after another harrowing trial in Shar’s Gauntlet. Squinting your eyes you pretended to study him, before speaking, “I like how materialistic you are.” 
“Oh." Something akin to shame flooded through him. "I don’t like this one, pick another.”
A chuckle escaped you, shaking your head. “That’s not how this works.” 
The vampire frowned at your laughter, “This one seems like some back handed compliment." He turned his nose up, trying to mask the small twinge of pain spreading in his chest, "Just tell me I’m pretty instead.” 
You finally recognized the hurt, the smile vanishing from your face. “Astarion, I swear it's not a backhanded compliment. It’s something I genuinely like.” You sounded earnest, you looked solemn. 
He met your wide eyes, nodding as he believed you. “Hmph. Why?” 
“Well, you know I come from a noble background… I grew up with certain luxuries and I miss them." You admitted, your nose scrunched. "It’s nice to have someone who also appreciates the finer things in life.” 
He realized that you thought it was trivial to admit such things, surrounded by death as you all embarked on a seemingly impossible mission. But you were being honest and vulnerable with him in the broken hallway of the dark temple. 
He kept his tone light, smirking at you. “I do have good taste.” 
“Excellent taste. You would love the keep I grew up in, the art and amenities…" You closed your eyes as if you imagined them right there. "I dream of them on cold nights on my bedroll.” 
“Hmmm, tell me about them tonight when we are holed up in our tent.”  
Our tent. A slip of his tongue, but it really had become that way. You rarely were in your own tent anymore, only enough to change and store your things before you were slinking into his.  
“I’ll take you there someday and you can see it yourself.” 
His eyebrows shot up his face, shock morphing his features. You thought that far ahead? Taking him to see your home? Meeting your family? 
You smiled at his reaction, before filling in for his stunned silence. “And… you’re very pretty.” 
A puff of air escaped through his nose, his lips quirking. “Oh I know.” He stretched his fingers, before sweeping his thumb across the back of your knuckles. “Thank you," He whispered. 
You smiled at his touch, your eyes darting to where his pale fingers met yours. 
The pair of you stayed in that quiet moment, until it was broken by the sound of a swear echoing down the length of the crumbling hallway. "Shit!"
Karlach and Shadowheart were sat across the hallway, the tiefling putting on a new bandage across the half elf's small palm — or was attempting to. The cleric had sliced her palm three times now, offering her blood in the name of her dark mistress before every trial. The party had winced every time she did it — but the woman never faltered. 
And she didn’t not heal it with her divine abilities, instead letting the wound remain, cutting into it deeper with each trial and then only wrapping it up. She said it was intentional, purposeful pain that her Goddess demanded. And that she alone would pay the price for it. 
Astarion had immediately marked the strain in your face as she said it. Knew that you wanted nothing more then to remind her that she was not alone, that she could be anything, anyone she wanted to be.
But the words had remained unspoken. Like you didn't have the right to say them to her anymore. 
The vampire was now watching you watch them — studying you once again, trying to decipher how you were feeling. Karlach continued her efforts, but her large fingers fumbled as she tried to tie the knot and the bandages fell off again. 
"Godsdammit! Sorry, Princess." She said sheepishly, snatching the bandages up quickly. 
"It's okay, Karlach." Shadowheart shook her head, looking down at her hand and squeezing it into a fist. She winced from the pain, a hiss coming from her mouth. 
"May I?" Your voice was soft, quiet as a mouse. But not so quiet that Shadowheart did not hear you. She flashed her eyes over to you, her face contorted with genuine surprise. The cleric said no words, instead nodding and offering her hand out. 
Astarion remained sitting, watching as you stood up and crossed the hallway to the two women. You knelt before her, bowing your head slightly as you grabbed the bandages and began to wind them tenderly around Shadowheart's hand. If it were another moment, another person, the vampire would be jealous. Wishing he had a wound himself so that you could offer your services and gentle touches. 
But this was monumental. Not only was it a rare sight — one blessed by Selûne taking care of one of Shar’s disciples. But it was an olive branch, a silent offering that meant much more then those bandages. An offering of peace and acceptance. 
He was sure he saw Shadowheart's eyes lining with silver as you worked, the bob of her throat as she swallowed thickly. With a slight cough, you made to stand back up. "All done." You said in a hushed voice. But before you could stand up, the cleric grabbed your elbow. 
"Thank you," She choked out. The gratitude was for more then just this moment, he imagined. 
You bowed your head again, "Of course." As you marched back across the hallway, Astarion stood up to meet you. He ducked his head to look at your face, a silent conversation passing between you as your eyes met. An art the two of you had begun to master already. 
Are you alright?
I will be. 
He blinked and nodded in understanding, before falling into step at your side. 
• • •
Every place they explored in the Shadowlands somehow topped the previous wretched place. If Astarion never had to step foot in a temple of Shar again, it would be too soon. 
The air surrounding them was freezing, and the hairs on his arms and back of his neck had been standing up for what felt like hours. It felt like eyes were always on him, trailing after your group and judging every step taken. 
Glancing behind him, he waited for you to step onto the disc with the rest of the party. You were hesitating on the edge, the smallest tremble in your hand as you stared down at the floor. "Darling?"
Your face shot up, like his voice snapped you back to reality. You looked rattled, completely shaken. 
Astarion extended his hand out to you, beckoning you forward. He grabbed your hand easily, pulling you into him with a questioning glance before letting go. The rest of your party was looking at you, worry forming in their features. 
You had all but stepped into him, your shoulder pressed into his. He actually didn't mind it one bit. 
“You look pale, are you feeling okay?” He kept his voice low, his mouth downturned. 
You gathered yourself for a moment, before flashing him a smirk. “I’m pale? Coming from the vampire himself?” 
“Ha," He rolled his red eyes. "Trust me, my sweet. I’ve memorized the flush of your features by now — something’s off.” 
Your eyes settled on Shadowheart for a moment, before looking down at your boots. “I think it’s being in here… Her gift is straining inside me.” 
Her gift, Selûne's blessing. You didn't dare say the Goddess' name in Shar's ruined temple. The rest of the party had heard the tale over the campfire about a week ago. While most of their faces had been filled with awe and astonishment when you had told them then, now their faces were only anxious. 
“Oh gods, you’re not going to...?" Wyll trailed off, his brows furrowed together. 
“Drop dead? I hope not.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. 
“Not funny.” Astarion hissed, flashing you a look. The sentiment was echoed by Gale, chastising you for saying such things. 
You quirked your mouth, before wrapping your arms around your torso. "I'll be fine." 
Suddenly, there was a loud click and the disc you all stood on began moving — descending deeper into the ruins. 
Astarion heard the heartbeats of the entire party begin to increase, the thrumming pounding in his ears. None were as loud as the rhythm of your heart. 
Then the scent of your fear filled his nostrils. 
He could think of no words, no quips or jokes. The dark ruins had been taxing, draining. And he did not know what to expect at the bottom of this temple. 
But he was afraid too. Afraid for you, for both of you. 
The disc settled below with another audible click, and as the rest of the party began to move off of it and deeper into the next area you stayed planted where you were. 
The vampire stayed with you, eyeing your complexion that was turning paler by the minute. Your breaths labored as you blinked, long and slowly. His red eyes followed your line of sight — to Shadowheart and Karlach. 
The half-elf and tiefling were standing before large ornate doors, shoulder to shoulder. Their hands were intertwined, fingers laced together as they continued to stare the door down. 
Your eyes were fixed on their hands, before you licked your lips and spoke quietly — only for him to hear. "Would you be okay with that?”
His brows furrowed together in confusion. “With what?” 
“A touch like that.” 
A bewildered look crossed his features. Here? Now? This is where you wished to discuss such things. Moments before stepping into the unknown darkness of the mistress of night. He stepped in front of you, his back to the rest of the party as he looked you in the face. 
“Holding hands? What next, you want to cuddle?” He teased with his sharp tongue.
The smallest twist in your features was your only tell. Anyone else would have missed it — a flash of sadness at his rejection. 
He suddenly realized it. Longing. You had been looking at the pair holding hands with longing, yearning to be touched like that right now. "You want that, don't you?"
You stiffened, as if you had said the wrong thing. You stumbled over your words, immediately backtracking, “Not if you don’t want to. I'm sorry, I just thought—“ 
His eyes softened at your reaction, “You’re upset.” 
“No, never." You shook your head, your voice unwavering. "It’s your choice, Starry.” 
“I’m not the only person in this—" In this, what? Finish the sentence, Astarion. He thought to himself. "Is it, something you would like to do?” 
“Maybe." You licked your lips, before nodding self-consciously. "Yes, but only if you were okay with it.” 
“I can try." He whispered sincerely, before looking back over his shoulder to the group. Shadowheart and Karlach remained at each other's side, their fingers still intertwined in a tight grasp. "I just— I don’t really understand it. The touch I’m used to is… sensual, erotic. Or incredibly violent. I thought touch was only supposed to lead to some explosive end, one way or another. What’s the point of it?” 
“It’s comforting, holding the person you care about. Feeling their presence with you, when you need it." You admitted, your eyes unguarded as you looked at him.  
He recalled how he felt when you had held him in your arms in the river. How he had let his fingers linger and hold onto you as you pulled away from that first hug. The overwhelming urge he had sometimes to just be near you. He could understand that feeling, he knew that feeling now. He just wasn't sure how to act on it. 
"I think I'd like that." He agreed, the corners of his mouth pulling up with a hopeful expression. "I will try." 
You smiled back at him, the pair of you momentarily forgetting where you stood. What was to happen next. What could happen next. 
As you made to finally step off of the disc, he called your name softly — halting your movement. "We will get to try."
It was a promise. A vow.
No dark mistress or Absolute or bastard vampire master would stop him from having you. 
You nodded, smiling back at him before moving to join the others. 
The group was cautious as they entered into the final chamber, the hundreds of candles in the room suddenly lighting with an eerie purple flame. The coloured flames flickered and cast dancing shadows on the stones around them, all leading to a pool of still water. A ginormous, untouched statue of the Mistress of Night stood in it — her arms outstretched, beckoning you forward. 
"This must be the last step. I need to pray. Only by Lady Shar's grace did we even make it this far." Shadowheart fell to her knees immediately, offering silent prayers to the intimidating figure ahead. Karlach stayed loyally at her side, but her brows were crinkled with worry. 
Everyone lingered behind, unsure of how to proceed. 
"I'm ready." The dark-haired cleric spoke, determination flashing in her features as she stood up. The spear she had fought and bled for in the trials strapped to her back. She held a boot over the unmoving water for a moment, hesitating for a moment before stepping into it. 
A voice spoke throughout the chamber, echoing and rattling the stones. The candles flickered with her voice, as if the magnificent voice caused the cold breeze that suddenly filled the room. "You are so close, my child. So close to fulfilling your destiny. And is that another trophy you bring for me? You honor me with your dedication.“ 
The party turned to stare at you. Shar was aware of who you are, of what lingered in you. Astarion swear he saw Shadowheart’s bottom lip tremble as her gaze fell on you again. 
But you put on your practiced expression of calm, nodding at your companions to continue. But as you stood on the precipice of the pool, Astarion noticed your fingers twitching at your side. 
It should have been be so easy for him to reach out and hold them, like you said you wanted. He had been daring himself to touch you more lately — a brush of his knuckle against yours, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. He was trying. He wanted to, so badly. 
But something was holding him back. A weight on his chest and lungs that made it feel him feel so tainted and undeserving for such things. 
He hesitated for too long, and your hand was moving away as you stepped into the sparkling water. So he took his own steps in. The water was ice cold, instantly sending goosebumps over his entire body. Then a frozen sensation that went deep into his half-dead body. It began clutching at him, at everything he was and ever could be. 
His red eyes widened, searching frantically for you beside him — his hand reaching out wildly for you before he was suddenly pulled under. 
• • •
The last thing you had seen was Shar’s menacing face —looming over you, spelling your end. A blanket of cold had surrounded you, tightening unbearably around your ankles and wrists before yanking you down into the darkness. 
You had never been afraid of the dark before. 
You could no longer say that. 
With a gasp, you wretched your eyes open to find yourself somewhere new. Standing on a craggy rock, floating in raging winds and surrounded by streaks of lightning. A living storm of black and purple swirling around you. 
"Lady Shar...," Shadowheart's voice was quiet — her tone a strange mixture of astonishment and fear. "I can feel her all around. This is her domain. This is the Shadowfell.”
“Bloody hells.” Gale muttered, the wizard's mouth a hardline. 
“We best keep moving.” Lae'zel ordered, eyeing the surroundings with a look of disgust on her face. 
You all murmured in agreement, before traveling down the precarious craggy rocks until you were at the very bottom. You hesitated at the site of a person— a pale, large woman dressed in only shredded rags.
The Nightsong. 
She stood in the centre of several complicated sigils, the symbols radiating a sickly green. Her head flicked up to your group, her eyes narrowing as she inspected every single party member. Before they settled on you, and softened. 
“I recognize you." Her voice was hoarse at first, like she hadn't spoken out loud in ages. "You aren’t a sibling… But I recognize you. Why are you so familiar to me?” She cocked her head at you, her eyes studying you. There was a flicker in them — hope.
Her hair shined silver like yours, but her eyes glowed even brighter. Much more than any mortal could. Your mouth fell open as you realized. She was not blessed by a divine being like you, she was immortal herself. 
“You are...“ 
“A child of the gods.” She finished for you, and even clad in nothing but rags she stood tall at the words.  
“Selûne’s?”
Your mind raced as you put together the pieces, the ritual on the stone similar to the secret room of Balthazar. Kethric’s undying nature. She was bound here in the Shadowfell — being syphoned like those fairies in the lanterns. And the dark justiciar’s — they used her, killed her like a bounty for their goddess. Over and over. As Shadowheart was meant to do now. 
But you. You were bound to nothing, and you were not born from the goddess — only a mortal woman, who feared for her child. A mortal mother who was thousands of miles away, not knowing where her child now stood, not knowing that they were waiting to see if a spear would be driven through their chest too.
"My mother spoke of you once. I don't think that even she knew we would meet." The daughter of Selûne eyes shone with quiet understanding. The flicker of hope in them still catching light somehow in the dark storm in the Shadowfell as she stared at you. 
Shadowheart stepped forward, toeing the edge of the ritual symbols carved onto the floor. Her face was stoic, determined. Yet she refused to look at you. 
"But you.” The woman’s eyes dragged to the cleric, her voice a vicious snarl. “YOU. You, who have come to seek the praise of your wicked goddess. You, who have come to drive a dagger through my heart." 
"Not a dagger — a spear. My Lady Shar's spear. Your fate is mine to seal." You noticed Shadowheart's hands were trembling fists at her side. 
"The fate that you seal is your own. To be a Dark Justiciar is to turn your heart from everything but loss. You will know no love, no joy — only servitude." Karlach stiffened next to Shadowheart, concern etching every feature of her red face. "Until, of course, your mistress inevitably discards you. And there is much she does not tell you — a terrible blood price that may extend beyond my own death. Beyond your companion's."
The cleric looked over her shoulder to you, her eyebrows furrowed. You said nothing, keeping your face steady. 
But it was the first she looked you in the eyes since you found yourself in the dark place. Truly met your gaze. And the rage and betrayal you had first seen in them that day she learned the truth about you had lost their heat. Instead you saw only pain and regret. 
Astarion made to move in front of you, to act as your shield as Shadowheart turned her attention on you. But you waved your hands at your side, silently asking him to stop. 
You knew the rest of your party waited with bated breath for you to intervene, to speak up for this woman, for yourself. 
But instead, you held Shadowheart’s gaze and waited. 
The Nightsong spoke again, drawing her attention away from you. "You may think you know what they are, but do you know what I am, little assassin? For I know you — a lost child, frightened by wolves in the dark." 
"What did you say?" 
"Much has been promised to you, hasn't it? But what has been taken from you?" She asked sadly, her eyes piercing through Shadowheart. "What do you know of your own heart — your own life? I sense more in you then you know." 
"I—" The spear was suddenly summoned into her hand, her light coloured eyes widening as she feels its weight. It was as if Shar would wait no longer, and would thrust the weapon into her hands and guide it through the Nightsong if need be. "I..." She raised it up, inspecting the intricate designs and deadly tip of the spear. The bottom of her eyes filled with silver as she studied it. 
And just as fast as it was summoned, it was gone. Soaring over the party's heads, away and into the swirling storm below them. 
You let loose the breath you didn't know you were holding.
It was echoed by a sigh of relief from the rest of the party. 
Shadowheart's mouth was agape, staring into her empty hands and then to you. A humorless laugh escaped her, like she was in a state of shock. "I can't believe I just did that. Lady Shar will disown me... what will happen to me?"  
"Not what will happen — what will you do? Your past is not yet lost. Your future is not yet fixed. Lay a hand on me in friendship, not-quite Sharran, and I will fight the battle that been waiting for me this last century." The large woman knelt before them, bowing her head. "Then — oh then, we will have much to discuss. All of us." She looked up to nod at you, still standing on the edge of the circle. 
The cleric stepped forward with more certainty then she had in most of the trials in Shar's Gauntlet. Her head held high before she grasped the child of the god on her shoulder. Suddenly the green of the binding ritual turned into a bright, silver light. The woman fell to all fours as the silver light traveled through her.  
"Our lady of Silver. Hear me! She Who Guides, the Moonmaiden Selûne — mother of the so-called Nightsong. THE NIGHTSONG IS NO MORE!" Then she began to levitate in the air, a shining light of white and silver wrapped around her before large wings spread from her back, and spectral armor and sword appearing upon her body and in her hands.
The group was amazed as they watched her fly up and up. Before she landed with a gentle thud.
A child of a god indeed. 
"I am resplendent. You have given me a great gift, little warrior." She nudged Shadowheart's chin with a gloved hand, before stepping back. "Come now — there is a battle to be fought." 
"My kin," She looked back to you, her eyes and brow set in a determined line. "Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" You asked, stepping forward until you were at Shadowheart's side. 
"To kill Ketheric Thorm." She flashed a wolfish grin that was filled with a controlled rage. Vengeance and justice was to be served by that glowing spectral sword in her hand. With a large woosh, she was soaring into the air and vanishing back to the mortal plane. 
• • •
It wasn't until you were out of the Shadowfell, away from Gauntlet and endless depictions of Shar that you all finally spoke. 
The cool air of the Shadowlands was welcoming for the first time since you had arrived. Astarion watched as you took large gulps of air, your hands resting on your hips as you centered yourself again. The colour was already returning to your cheeks, your heart slowing to a familiar rhythm. 
He made to reach out for you, but Shadowheart got there first. A look of surprise flashed across your face as she threw herself at you. "I don't— I don't know what to say." She muttered into your shoulder. 
You swallowed hard before holding her back fiercely, your mouth quivering. "You don't have to say anything. I forgive you."
Astarion blinked. You gave her your forgiveness so easily, much easier then he would have. But wasn't that one of the things he was so fond of? Your kind heart, your innate goodness. That even though he didn't feel he deserved your attention, or that Shadowheart deserved to be forgiven, you still granted it to them. Your kindness was not just for him, but for everyone in the group. The hubris wizard and seasoned fighter who didn't think they were enough. The warlock and barbarian ripped from their homes. The manipulated manipulators who were used and discarded.  
“You can't—You can't just forgive me." She pulled away from you, staring at you like you had gone mad. "What I did, what I almost did — I almost didn’t bring you back that day, oh gods—" Her hand moved over her mouth, her brows meeting in the middle. 
“But you did.”
“But if I didn’t—" Her voice broke.
You grabbed her by the shoulders, ducking your head to look at her. “But you did. And we will not speak of the past any longer. But we will get you answers for your own, okay?” 
"What she wanted me to do in there, what she's made me do..." A sob escaped Shadowheart, the sound breaking something in Astarion. Something that hit a little too close to home. His red eyes flickered to his boots as he tried to keep his own emotion at bay. 
Your next words were a whisper in her ear, too low for even his elven ears to hear. But you both nodded together, before Karlach was pulling the cleric into a hug of their own. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, whispering her own affections to her. 
Before the vampire could even try to will himself to do the same things for you, you were in front of him. He could see no hint of expectation on your face, only relief as you took him in. 
He ran the tip of his finger down your wrist, to the back of your hand, before trailing it in your palm. "That was all a little dramatic, wasn't it?"
A tired chuckle escaped you, "I'd thought you'd learned by now that we have a flair for it, don't we?"
"We certainly do." 
Suddenly, flashes of divine white power swept above you, before shooting fast across the sky — the light silhouetting a set of large wings. Without further thinking, Astarion threaded his pale fingers through yours, squeezing them slightly as he watched the light head closer and closer to the imposing tower in the distance. 
He gulped as you squeezed back. 
Your party watched the sky for a moment, silence filling the air before you all stared at each other. Your tired, aching bodies were begging for rest. But the world would not wait for you to rest. 
"To Moonrise?" Gale asked, a sad, tired smile on his face. 
"To Moonrise." You nodded, starting to march forward and lead the group forward. 
Astarion curled his pinky around yours as you meant to pull away, not quite ready to let you go again. 
Read part V here
66 notes · View notes
whatacaitastrophe · 2 months
Text
Everything Has Changed - Chapter 4
Previous Chapter
Chapter Song Inspiration: "After Midnight" - Dorothy
Chapter Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood drinking.
Spotify Playlist: Here
Author Notes: Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! If you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link. ya girl has bills to pay and a dog to feed, and every little bit helps <3
Chapter 4: Kerosene Eyes
“Szarlnaxi coven? I thought you’d all died out after the final confrontation with Isteval.” Astarion questioned in disbelief. He was well aware of the Szarlnaxi coven and their history, as Cazador had instructed Astarionan and his siblings to kill anyone associated with Voltan Szarlnaxi, an ousted count from Tethyr turned local crime lord, on sight. The Sharran worshippers began consuming the blood of Baldur’s Gate’s lowest citizens while still human, posing a threat to Cazador and his own coven, threatening to expose them. Astarion couldn’t confirm (Cazador never would have deigned to tell him), but he was fairly certain the reason the agents from Tethyr hunting Voltan Szarnaxi found him to begin with were aided by Cazador himself. 
When Szarnaxi perished, his followers prayed to Shar as they consumed his blood. As a reward for their devotion, the Lady of Darkness turned them into vampires. Astarion and his siblings had been the ones to force the new coven of vampires out of Baldur’s Gate and retreat to what became their new homebase at Dragonspear Castle. Astarion hadn't heard anything about the Szarnaxi coven again until eight years ago, 1485 DR, when Cazador uncharacteristically declared they were having a celebration, because the coven finally met their end thanks to Sir Isteval, a paladin from Cormyr, who took them on twice in the same year and won both times. Of course, Cazador’s idea of a “celebration” was a night free of torture and cats for supper instead of the usual, but that had been good enough for Astarion and his siblings.
It was the only reason Astarion agreed to camp outside the gates of Dragonspear Castle to begin with: believing the greatest threat from the castle on the High Moor had gone extinct. 
Once Astarion’s vision adjusted to the change in lighting, he got a good look at their visitor.  Astarion recognized the vampire in front of him as one of the ones Cazador had ordered Astarion and his siblings to be removed from Baldur’s Gate after their numbers started growing. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but it didn’t matter. 
“You thought that bastard from Cormyr managed to murder us all?” The other vampire sneered, releasing his hand from Fallon’s mouth to wrap an arm around her middle as his spell wore off. “Only the weak fell. The rest of us just knew where to hide until the dust settled.”
“So you’re a bunch of cowards, then. Duly noted.” Fallon quipped, and Astarion could have killed Fallon himself for goading a vampire with a blade to her neck, though he supposed it did remind him of their first meeting.
The vampire didn’t take kindly to her jab, either, and he expressed as much by pressing the blade against her throat just enough that Fallon whimpered in pain. Rage began to simmer in Astarion’s blood, and one look at Gale told him the other man felt the same way he did: this vampire was as good as dead the second Fallon was free from harm. Oh, how Astarion wished that he and Gale still shared a connection via their tadpoles– it made silently planning a coordinated attack so much easier. 
“You’ve yet to answer my question, spawn of Cazador. What are you doing here?” their visitor demanded. 
Astarion raised his free hand in a show of peace, but wasn’t foolish enough to let go of his dagger. “We’re just passing through,” Astarion replied, his voice much calmer than he felt. “Just three friends who stopped to make camp for the night on the road to Waterdeep from Baldur’s Gate.” 
“Quite a trip to make on foot, especially this time of year. Why not use a portal?”
“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Gale spoke up with an awkward wave. “Ordinary human here, portals upset the stomach. Now why don’t you release our friend and proper introductions can be made.” 
When talking about journeying to Waterdeep, Fallon and Astarion had considered a portal spell. The trouble was that mages that not only knew how, but were strong enough to conjure one reliably few and far between. Gale had been the only person with that kind of magical prowess they knew, and they certainly couldn’t ask him before  Mystra dropped him on their doorstep, completely stripped of his magical powers, and that was the end of that discussion. As far as excuses went, the one Gale gave the Szarlnaxi vampire was probably also true, albeit untested. 
Their intruder’s body language relaxed only slightly, indicating he believed Gale’s story, but Astarion wouldn’t be lowering his defenses until there was no longer a blade pressed to his lover’s neck. “What’s in Waterdeep?” the vampire asked. 
“I believe that answer also lies with me,” Gale continued. “I originally hail from Waterdeep and my– my mother passed away. My dear friends agreed to act as emotional support and accompany me as I travel there to sort through her affairs.” 
Astarion had to hand it to Gale, the pain in the other man’s voice sounded genuine. If Gale learned to play an instrument, he would probably be a hell of a bard. The vampire looked to Astarion in confirmation, and he nodded silently. “You’re pretty far from home, spawn, does daddy know you’re out and about?” The other vampire asked. 
“Gods, you ask a lot of questions,” Fallon sighed in annoyance. “Cazador is dead. We killed him ages ago. Are you satisfied?” 
Astarion had to work overtime to keep his features as neutral as possible. If they survived this night, he really would consider killing Fallon himself. He knew from traveling with her in the past that in the face of danger that Fallon tended to abide by the code of “strike before you can be struck, and ask questions later,” and often ran headfirst into a battle without really thinking anything through; but this was a new level of recklessness, even for her. Especially without Shadowheart on standby to patch them up. He’d once told Fallon that the greatest threat to a vampire was not the sun, or a wooden stake, but another vampire; and she’d just handed this particular one all the ammunition he needed. 
“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting?” The rival vampire crooned, as he stared at Astarion. “You should have made sure to warn your consort about our history before wandering into our territory. Cazador was the only thing keeping you all alive.” With his free hand, the vampire reached up and yanked on Fallon’s hair, causing her to gasp in pain. Astarion’s rage came to a boil the moment the stranger pressed his face to Fallon’s neck, right above the old puncture wounds on Fallon’s neck from where Astarion usually bit her. “She smells so sweet, I can see why you picked this one. I think I’ll have a taste before I kill you all.”
Before he could open his mouth to take a bite, the sound of an arrow soaring through the air broke through the clearing, and found its mark in the vampire’s shoulder blade. He cried out in pain, lowering his blade from Fallon’s neck and staggering backward. The holding spell wore off, and Fallon quickly whirled around with her blade, decapitating her captor in one clean swing. 
Immediately it became clear why the Szarlnaxi vampire was asking so many questions, and biding his time: he’d been the distraction. The second his head separated from his body, four other vampires appeared, previously hidden by an invisibility spell cast upon them by their now dead leader. Gale swore loudly, readying his sword as one of them launched at him, and Astarion could only pray his training with Fallon stuck. Astarion briefly looked around to see if their savior had shown themself, but before he could truly investigate he found himself dodging a fire bolt shot at him by the vampire closest to him. The flame singed his sleeve as it flew by, and Astarion ran at his attacker, dagger ready to strike. 
The blade found its target, stabbing the rival vampire right in the side, and Astarion drove the blade in deep before dragging it across his gut, splitting him open as he cried out in pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two vampires head for Fallon, one head on and the other coming at her from behind. “Fallon, behind you!” Astarion yelled, but their mystery savior seemed to already be on the case, for another arrow shot through the trees, this time piercing Fallon’s attacker in the back of the neck and going almost cleanly through, causing the vampire to collapse to his knees as he gargled and choked on his own blood. 
There was no time to breathe a sigh of relief, though, because Astarion’s opponent may have been injured, but he wasn’t out. He had just enough energy it seemed to cast a Thunderwave spell that sent Astarion hurtling backwards, gasping for air as he landed flat on his back, eyes closed as he winced in pain. A shadow appeared over his figure, blocking him from the firelight of the campfire, and as Astarion rolled over to try and stand, he saw their boots first. They were smaller than any man’s, or even Fallon’s, and for when he looked up in confusion he was met with the golden eyes of a gray skinned tiefling, beaming at him. 
“I suppose after this we’ll be even after all the times you saved my life, right?” She declared, extending him a hand, and Astarion’s expression changed from confusion, to elated surprise.
“Arabella?” 
“Nice to see you again, Astarion. Let’s finish these bastards off, so we can have a proper reunion, yeah?” 
The young tiefling tore off after the vampire who’d been assaulting Astarion, so Astarion picked up his dagger and ran to help Gale. He was doing fine keeping his own attacker at bay, and seemed to have avoided taking any major blows, but Gale also hadn’t managed to injure the vampire, either. “IGNIS!” Astarion shouted, aiming for the offending vampire, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when the bolt of fire hit its target. The vampire staggered, giving Gale a moment to swing his sword around and lacerate his arm. 
“Is that Arabella?” Gale asked Astarion in surprise. 
“Sure is.” Astarion answered proudly as he grabbed the back of the burning vampire’s neck with a wince, and drove his dagger into his shoulder before kicking him backwards onto the ground. The sounds of blades and spells slowly died as the last of the vampires fell to the ground, and Astarion looked around wildly for Fallon, praying she was still standing. 
The elf was intact, and on her knees on the ground with Arabella, tears streaming from both of their eyes as they embraced tightly. Astarion started to walk towards the two of them, but Gale grabbed his arm gently and shook his head. “Give them a moment.” he said softly. Astarion glared at Gale, but did as he was told, annoyed with himself that Gale still knew Fallon so well as to know to give her this moment with their friend. 
During her brief residency in their camp, Arabella and Fallon bonded in the way sisters do, and when the young tiefling left to strike out on her own and find her own way in the world, it broke Fallon’s heart. Astarion remembered the day Arabella left: just after they’d entered Rivington, the tiefling girl left in the night, leaving only a note behind, citing that a goodbye would have been too hard. They ran into her one other time, a few months later, but to Astarion’s knowledge, no one had heard from her since. 
“Gods, look at you! You’re all grown up!” Fallon exclaimed, pulling back from Arabella, placing her bloody hands on the girl’s shoulders. It had only been two and a half years since they last saw Arabella, but she was definitely no longer the child they’d seen before. Astarion had assumed she was eleven or twelve when they met her, and a full fledged teenager stood before them now. Her hair was darker, more ginger than it used to be, and she had a turquoise, wavy tattoo covering her left eye and spiraling down her neck (it reminded Astarion slightly of Halsin’s), and she had a couple of piercings now as well. “What the hells are you doing out here?” Fallon asked her. She turned around to look at Gale and Astarion. “Look! Arabella is here!” Fallon wiped tears from her eyes, but when she raised her arm to wave them over, she visibly winced. It was at that moment Astarion realized the blood on Fallon’s hands were not just from the vampires who attacked her, but also her own. He could smell it now that he drew closer to her, and his eyes immediately fell to the source: her shirt had been torn open and a long, bleeding gash leaked blood across her abdomen. 
“Shit.” He rushed over to Fallon and dropped to his knees beside her. “Where are the healing potions, darling, I’ll go grab one.” “Astarion, I’m fine.” Fallon argued. “You are not fine,” His nostrils flared. “We could have avoided this whole gods damned battle if you had just kept your mouth shut, and now you’re fucking bleeding out, don’t tell me you’re fine.” Fear filled his body as his temper rose, and he knew it was the only reason he lashed out at her. Though as far as Astarion was concerned, yelling at Fallon for starting a fight she couldn’t finish, and getting hurt in the process, felt like a pretty good reason to yell at her. 
“Astarion, calm down. Yelling at her isn’t going to fix it,” Arabella scolded him and he stared at the young tiefling in shock for talking back to him. In fact, the way Arabella had spoken to him reminded him of Fallon. “Just give me a moment. I know a fair bit of healing magic now. Fallon, lay back for me, yeah?”
Astarion instinctively reached for Fallon, helping her ease herself onto her back. He may have been angry with her, but the sooner she was healed, the less guilty Astarion would feel for yelling at her in the first place. Gale must have noticed Fallon was injured at the same moment Astarion did, and as he appeared on Fallon’s other side with a healing potion in hand. “This should help.”  
Fallon nodded in thanks, drinking the potion quickly and wincing as she tossed the bottle aside. “Gods, I’d forgotten how foul those things taste,” she looked over at Astarion and took his hand. “I’m sorry for starting a fight, my love.” 
“You scared me, Fallon,” Astarion sighed, squeezing her hand as the healing glow from Arabella’s magic hovered over Fallon’s skin. “You can’t just go mouthing off to everyone who annoys you like you used to. It’s just the three of us now, and if it weren’t for Arabella, we’d probably all be dead.” 
“Thank you, by the way, since I don’t think any of us have said it yet.” Gale chimed in, smiling softly at Arabella. “It truly is lovely to see you, and not just because you saved our hides. I’m inclined to echo Fallon’s question: what are you doing out here?” 
“Oh, I’ve been tracking the Szarlnaxis for a while now,” The tiefling explained as casually as though she’d told them what she had for breakfast. “I’d heard a rumor they were keen to come back to Baldur’s Gate, and I think we’ve all seen enough without vampires running amuck unchecked, so I decided to go after them.”
“On your own?” Astarion asked in surprise. 
“Well, yes. I’ve learned that I’m actually quite powerful– taking on enemies on my own isn’t exactly difficult these days.” She shrugged. 
Astarion remembered the day they ran into her in the City Sewers, alone and surrounded by multiple dead bodies of men three times her size. At the time, she’d only been on her own for a few months at best, so Astarion had no doubt that the tiefling was not embellishing the extent of her powers two years later. Gale let out a low whistle. “That’s quite a bit of power, then. Do be careful with it, Arabella.”
The tiefling nodded in understanding. “I am, I promise. Sometimes I prefer shooting things with a bow and arrow more than magic anyhow.” “And I am certainly grateful for that.” Fallon laughed, wincing at the pain the action caused her. The wound across her abdomen was smaller now, and it was no longer bleeding. Arabella’s magic faded and dusted off her hands. 
“That should set you right. Though you should probably just rest tomorrow. I’ll stay with you all until you move out of this territory, just in case. I’ve got my own tent and everything, so no need to double up somewhere on my account.” 
The next hour or so was uneventful– Arabella quietly set up her tent while Astarion and Gale helped Fallon back to her tent and put her to bed, and soon after, Arabella bid them both goodnight as well. Astarion and Gale sat in silence around the fire for a long time, staring into the flames and completely lost in their own thoughts. So much so that when Gale finally spoke, Astarion jumped. 
“I’ve been thinking– sorry–” He apologized when Astarion jumped. “But I’ve been thinking about this situation we find ourselves in…and though you and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, I think we can both agree that Fallon’s safety is both our priority.” 
Astarion simply nodded in agreement, allowing Gale to continue. “I know you feed on her, but not every day, and on the days she doesn’t sate you, you hunt animals in the forest. Like you used to,” Astarion looked at Gale with interest. Was this going where he thought it was going? “I know in the past I’ve been…closed off to the idea of you biting me, but that was also as much for your sake as it was mine. When The Netherese Weave was lodged in my chest, I can’t imagine my blood would have tasted very good anyway…but now that it’s out and I’m well– normal again, I’d like to be of some other use than just cooking and washing the dishes. You may have guessed I volunteer for those duties not only because I don’t mind it, but also because I find myself feeling like a bit of a burden on this journey.” 
“Gods, you can never say anything outright, can you? Spit it out, Gale.” Astarion sighed impatiently. 
Gale huffed. “I was getting to it. We got lucky that Arabella showed up when she did. It won’t happen twice. Therefore, I would like to offer the use of my veins to you. I know you’re stronger when you feed on humans instead of animals, and the stronger you are, the easier it will be for us both to protect Fallon.” 
Apparently this evening was just going to be full of surprises. Astarion stared at Gale. “Are– are you sure?” 
“I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t. You can’t feed on her all the time, and I want to help. Honestly it kind of feels like it’s the least I can do.” Gale confirmed. “When was the last time you ate? You can even feed on me now, if you like.”
Astarion’s stomach gurgled at the thought. “It has been a day or two,” He mused, considering Gale’s offer. “Well, alright. If you’re sure.” Astarion stood up and moved to sit next to Gale, but stopped when the other man shifted so he was laying on his back. “Gale…what are you doing?” Astarion asked, amusement creeping onto his face. 
“I–you have to bite my neck, don’t you? That’s where you always bit Fallon, even before the two of you were, erm, intimate. I figured it’d be easier on you if I lay down.” Gale explained nervously. 
“Oh, you’re too adorable, sit up.” Astarion chuckled. “I can bite your arm, darling. That way you can hide it with your sleeve, if this is to remain our little secret.” 
“Do– do you want it to be a secret?” Gale asked. 
“I mean, I don’t care, but Fallon will probably be offended that we think she can’t look after herself and that she needs protecting, so…you tell me.” Astarion gave him a pointed look, almost daring Gale to disagree with him. They both knew Fallon well enough to know Astarion was right. 
“Fair enough.” Gale conceded, rolling up his sleeve. “What do I do, just…tap your arm or something when I’m ready for you to stop?” 
“That’s what Fallon does.” 
“Well, alright. Get on with it then.” Gale sighed, offering Astarion his forearm. 
“I promise to be gentle.” Astarion teased, delicately taking Gale’s forearm in his hands. He gave Gale one last look, one final chance to change his mind, and when Gale remained silent, Astarion leaned forward and bit down near the crook of Gale’s elbow, the only sound in camp was Gale’s sharp gasp of pain when Astarion’s teeth broke his skin. 
A long time ago, Fallon and Astarion joked about what they thought the others in their camp would taste like. Fallon had declared that Lae’zel probably tasted like an exotic, imported liquor with a high alcohol content that packed a punch, and Shadowheart and Wyll probably tasted similar to the red wines they’d favored while traveling. Gale, though, Astarion had predicted that Gale would taste like a good brandy, perfectly aged with just the right amount of spice. It pleased him to confirm that his assumption was correct, and the tiniest noise of approval escaped the vampire’s mouth as he drank from Gale. Except, there was something else in Gale’s blood, too. Something Astarion hadn’t been expecting, and something he was certain Gale had no idea was there. 
A minute or so later, Gale tapped Astarion’s knee and the vampire immediately released Gale’s arm from his mouth. Astarion licked the wound as he pulled away (he couldn’t help himself), and wiped his mouth as he looked at Gale curiously. “Well, how was I?” Gale asked. “Admittedly, I have been wondering what I taste like since I overheard that conversation with you and Fallon ages ago–” “Gale– didn’t Mystra take all of your magic?” 
Gale stopped speaking for a moment and frowned. “She– she did. Though I don’t know why you would bring that up now, it seems rather cruel after what I’ve just done for you–”
“No, Gale, shut up. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I– I don’t think she did. There’s magic in your blood. I tasted it.”
Chapter List
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powdermelonkeg · 1 year
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Would be cool to hear your opinion on the topic of dream worlds. Is Termina a dream, and if so, who's dreaming it? Are Oshus and Windfish the same or is there a whole race of world-crafting whale deities? Can the "real" world of Hyrule and neighbouring countries be classified as a dream of the Golden Goddesses?
(I understand it's too broad of a topic, so feel free to pick whatever catches your interest the most).
Hyrule's alternate dimensions are my JAM. Fair warning, this is going to go on a tangent that goes way past what you asked for.
Let me first start by saying that I think Koholint is unique in being a dream—not because the other spheres of Hyrule are far removed from it in concept, but because of the core twist that makes it a dream.
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If this guy wakes up, poof! It's all gone.
What bars Termina and Hyrule from being the same is that there's no indication that you can do this. Majora does very much exist, as do the Giants of Termina, yet when they're fully conscious and active, reality doesn't collapse around them. Arguably, the moon does—there's a case to be made for this thing being a projection of Majora's consciousness (which I get into further down the line):
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But Termina itself, no.
Same with Hyrule. You can meet the Golden Goddesses, albeit in a much more mortal form:
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They're fully awake and, as far as we know, fully aware. In Oracle of Ages and Oracle of Seasons, they're even in danger; something that can't really happen to the Wind Fish, no matter how many Nightmares it attracts.
But what is Termina, if it's not a dream? It's certainly twisted enough to be one.
Personally, I think it's a mirror to Hyrule in the same way that Lorule is.
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All three of these worlds have look-alike people, as well as their own version of Link. They have extensive histories, deities, evils to be vanquished, and so on. The key to what makes them different, though, is their point of divergence.
Let me back up a little bit.
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These are all the pocket dimensions attached to Hyrule—specifically to Hyrule. The Twilight Realm is where the Twili were banished from Hyrule, the Dark Realm is where Demon Lord Malladus calls home, the Silent Realm is where Link does his trials to prove himself worthy of the Triforce, the Minish World is where the Picori of legend come from, Koholint is the aforementioned dream of the Wind Fish, who as far as we know, makes its home in Hyrulean waters, and the Sacred Realm is where the Triforce is stored.
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From what Hilda tells is in A Link Between Worlds, Lorule was exactly like Hyrule in every way, up until the events prior to A Link to the Past, where the sages elected to destroy the Triforce rather than seal it away.
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This is the official timeline, according to Nintendo. If the point of divergence—the split in the timeline that made Lorule what it is—falls at the war, then Lorule's timeline looks something like this:
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So, subsequently, their amount of connected realms should look similar to, but not identical to, Hyrule.
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I've gotten rid of the Dark Realm because, according to Nintendo, we have no idea when Malladus was sealed away. It could very well be a child timeline exclusive; Lorule might have its own child timeline (which is its own post), but the Lorule we KNOW OF either doesn't have the Dark Realm, or is so far removed from it that it doesn't know it exists.
The Twilight Realm and Silent Realm are inevitable guarantees for Lorule. The Twili were sealed away long before the split, and Lorule in theory had its own version of Skyward Sword that kicked everything off in the first place.
The Minish World is a little trickier to classify; we know it exists through the timeline leading up to Lorule, but we also have some semblance of direct confirmation through the rupees we find in the grass and pots—coincidentally, we also find those in Termina.
What makes it tricky, though, is that we don't know if it's a separate version of the Minish World. Does each parallel universe have its own parallel Picori? Do they share one? Should it look like this?
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Who knows! Nintendo please give us another Minish game I'm begging you
Koholint is another strange case. We don't know that Link was essential to its creation—meaning that we don't know if Ravio was essential to its creation. Koholint may exist out there, and it may very well still be up and running to this day, the Wind Fish still dreaming. Without knowing when or why the Wind Fish fell asleep, we can't know its fate.
Back to Termina. We don't know its point of divergence; it may be so far back as to the Giants having created the world instead of the Golden Goddesses, or Majora springing up instead of Demise. So the various different pocket worlds associated with it are thus far limited to two:
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We can't know if they had any dark interlopers to banish. We can't know if they had a Triforce to protect at all. Termina is a flat-out mystery as to its history and origins (though personally, I think its divergence comes in the world before Hyrule). However, I think the presence of pocket dimensions itself in Termina backs up the theory that it's a real place.
The Moon, on the other hand...
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You go in it, and it has its own sky. Its own sort-of-central location.
Everything here bends to Majora's whims. He plays games. He conjures children. He makes you the most powerful mask you could possibly get.
He directly controls where and when it falls. Your whole fight against him involves cheating at that game; if you mess up, you turn back time to get a do-over with new information and new items.
This, I think, is a dream world. Majora is a lucid dreamer, forcing his fantasies to work for him. There's a reason he's only ever a mask when he's not in the moon; he has to attach himself to other people and work through their own minds, their own thoughts, to do anything to anyone else.
He has no access to his full power outside of his dreams.
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Now, on the subject of the Oshus vs the Wind Fish, let's look at them side by side.
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While they've got similarities—both white, both huge, both bearing godlike powers, I don't think they're the same person. The Ocean King is a lot simpler, with a more prominent melon and a larger tail fin. Meanwhile, the Wind Fish is more slender and long, with a different kind of eye and a farther extending jawline. Barring the things that are either parts of their ensemble or aspects of their magic, we're still left with two very distinct whales.
My guess is that they're two of the same species, like the four light spirits in Twilight Princess.
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Similar in their origin and strength, but guarding different realms: wind and water.
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gautiersylvain · 3 months
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Something that Baldur's Gate 3 does really well is make the characters behave like people. Like real actual people who can be stubborn and sometimes lie, to themselves and to the player, and have conflicting motivations and feelings. This is illustrated particularly well through pivotal moments in companion quests when you have the option to persuade/otherwise influence them.
I was initially inspired by the somehow enduring opinion of some that "it's wrong to persuade Astarion not to complete the ascension ritual" and wanted to explore that idea a little more, especially in contrast to other companions throughout the course of the game.
A. Lae'zel and the Zaith'isk (Act 1)
Anyone who has been to the Githyanki creche and had Lae'zel use the zaith'isk knows that the persuasion checks (all of the checks involved, tbh) are EXTREMELY difficult. We know going in that purification is Lae'zel's highest priority. She does NOT want to get out of the zaith'isk no matter how much it hurts. The first persuasion roll you get to try to convince her to leave the zaith'isk has a whopping DC 30. Alternatively, you can try to roll a DC 30 wisdom roll to show her via the parasite the consequences of remaining in the zaith'isk. I've never succeeded on either myself.
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"Get out of there, Lae'zel. You won't survive this anguish"
"Call on your parasite. Show Lae'zel what she stands to lose."
If you fail either of these checks, Lae'zel begins to suffer adverse effects (permanent -2 to certain ability scores) that stack the longer she remains in the device. There are real, in game consequences due to your actions/failed rolls and Lae'zel's unquestioning loyalty to and inherent faith in Vlaakith.
After succeeding on DC 21 wisdom roll to discover that the zaith'isk in fact is not a means of curing the infected, but to kill them, you have the option to try to persuade Lae'zel again to leave the device but with a much lower DC of 21.
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"I've seen the truth, Lae'zel. This device doesn't cure - it kills."
So what does this tell us? How does this help us to better understand Lae'zel? We already know that, out of all of our companions, Lae'zel is one of the least likely to lie. She prefers to be direct and efficient. She is unyielding both in her loyalty to the githyanki and to Vlaakith. To try to convince her that the zaith'isk, what Lae'zel refers to as her "right" and "Vlaakith's purity," is actually intended to kill her is a difficult task. So if you're looking for someone who actually doesn't want to do something and you're trying to persuade them otherwise...this is it! That's why the difficulty class of the rolls is so high!
But she can be convinced. Lae'zel is not immune to reason. This can be the first step Lae'zel takes in her journey to defying Vlaakith.
B. Shadowheart and the Nightsong (Act 2)
Shadowheart's confrontation with Aylin in the Shadowfell in Act 2 is one of the highlights of the game for me. There is a DC 30 persuasion check at the beginning of the scene to convince Shadowheart to spare Aylin. Again, not a roll I've ever succeeded on myself. And personally, I find the dialogue option "trust Shadowheart - do not interfere" much more narratively satisfying. After this, the paths diverge slightly.
If you chose to side with the Absolute cultists and raid the grove in Act 1, you have 2 dialogue options to persuade Shadowheart not to kill Aylin with fairly low DCs (I believe they are both 14). Take this with a grain of salt - I haven't verified this myself in game.
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"She knows something about you. Spare her, see what she has to say."
If you chose to side with the grove and killed the Absolute cultists in Act 1, you have one persuasion option with a similar DC.
Then we get to my favorite part. To the best of my knowledge, no matter what "evil" or "good" choices you made previously, if you choose to let Shadowheart make her own decision here, she chooses to toss the spear into the shadowfell's depths. She spares Aylin and defies Shar.
This tell us A LOT. Up to this point, Shadowheart has spent much of her dialogue telling the player about her faith and dedication to Shar. She tells us that she wants nothing more than to become a Dark Justiciar. So why, when given the chance to make her own decision by someone she trusts, does she choose to defy Shar? To lose her chance to become a Dark Justiciar? Why would the player need to direct Shadowheart to do something she's told us is all she's ever wanted?
I would argue that, as we see when you allow Shadowheart to decide on her own, it's because she doesn't really want to kill Aylin. I believe that she believes she wanted nothing more than to become a Dark Justiciar, but did that dream originate with her? I find it more likely that it was due to her religious indoctrination, as well as a result of the trauma she endured at the hands of Viconia. The Mother Superior often punished Shadowheart for failing to live up to her expectations, the expectations of Shar. Becoming a Dark Justiciar would prove that she belonged. But as we learn later, she never really belonged. When given the choice, Shadowheart stays true to her own nature rather than trying to appease Shar.
C. Astarion and the Rite of Profane Ascension (Act 3)
A lot has been written about Astarion and his personal quest, understandably so. For this post, I'm going to focus specifically on the persuasion checks you can make after defeating Cazador in battle in Act 3.
The claim I've seen several times is that it's "wrong" to persuade Astarion not to ascend because you have to make a persuasion check to do so which is....an interesting take. Persuasion dialogue options aren't inherently bad or manipulative, they're simply a game mechanic. That being said, let's take a look at the actual dialogue options.
Going in to this scene, we know that Astarion doesn't really want to kill the other spawn - his "siblings" or the spawn who have been captive in the chapel. His main goal is to kill Cazador. But he is tempted by the power he would gain if he completed the ritual in Cazador's stead, which would require sacrificing around 7,000 spawn. We also know that Astarion isn't a "details person" meaning he doesn't tend to think things through. Yes, he would gain power, but what would he lose? What other consequences would result from his decision?
Above all else, during his time as a vampire spawn, Astarion was taught that power keeps you safe. Specifically the power to manipulate and hurt others. The ritual promises power. But in his haste, Astarion risks repeating the cycle that began many many centuries ago, going back well before whoever turned Vellioth (Cazador's master).
First, you're presented with a DC 18 persuasion check that convinces Astarion not to complete the ritual if you're successful.
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A high difficulty class, but compared to the DC 30 of Lae'zel's first zaith'isk checks? It's practically nothing. I personally prefer to take a different route, however.
In the same dialogue options, you can choose to make a DC 20 insight check to see why Astarion is still so adamant on performing the ritual - a more difficult check to be sure, but an illuminating one if you succeed. The narrator tells us that Astarion is afraid - he can't see past the power he might gain and "the freedom that power brings." He can't see the forest for the trees, or perhaps he can't see the potential consequences past his desire for (presumed) safety.
If you succeed on that insight check, you get the option to make a slightly easier persuasion check of DC 15. The DCs of skill checks and saving throws aren't arbitrary - the fact that convincing Astarion not to complete the ritual is easier than the checks discussed earlier gives us some insight into Astarion's mindset.
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"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."
This has never felt manipulative to me. To me, it comes across as the player pointing out to Astarion that power comes with a price, one that he might not be willing to pay, one that he might not be considering in the moment due to fear and desperation.
So what can we make of this? Given that spawn Astarion later thanks the player for, in his own words, saving him, he seems genuinely happy to not have gone through with the ritual. He also says that he almost lost everything, including himself. Astarion seems to realize, to some extent, that completing the ritual and killing all of those people would have changed him - costing him what really makes him him. His vulnerability, his silliness, his joy. By persuading Astarion not to ascend, you teach him that the power from the ritual (that "never having to fear anyone again") isn't worth the cost. That he is enough just the way he is.
Going into the fight with Cazador, Astarion is clearly of two minds. He desires the power offered by the ritual, but he also feels responsible for the fate of many of the people trapped in the crypt and doesn't truly wish them (further) harm. He is standing on a precipice, unsure of whether or not to stumble backwards into old habits and isolation or to leap into the terrifying unknown of freedom. Astarion has also spent 200 years unable to make choices for himself - and he is now presented with a huge choice that will affect thousands and change the course of his own life forever. Ultimately, it's up to the player, the influence your character has on him, that encourages him to either continue or break, as Astarion puts it, "the cycle of power and terror."
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giggly-squiggily · 1 year
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Still You Under The Surface (Moriarty The Patriot)
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I hadn't intended this to get sappy but here we are 👀
Heyo everyone! I finally finished the Lee!Albert fic I was making! Darling man- I love Albert so much! He and his brothers deserve all the love in the world, and so this fic has been created! I hope you like it!
Shoutout to the wonderful @thatbigbisexual29 for the idea that Albert's neck is ticklish- I hope it's okay I've included it in this fic- it was too cute to pass up! Check her out, she's fantastic!
Summary: Albert had crafted the perfect persona for the world, for the various nobles he entertained, and for the Lord Of Crimes. However, it had little to no effect on his brothers. When the cracks start appearing in his mask, William and Louis are there for him.
Albert James Moriarty was unreadable.
The eldest of the Moriarty brothers, you’d be damned to find him without his signature smile. Coy, with a touch of amusement in those green eyes as if he found everything around him enchanting. He was a picture of elegance, gracefully handling any situation thrown his way with poise and charm. Some believed he’d never faced a worry in his life with how at ease he seemed, while others believed he simply dripped with confidence, too secure in himself to let anything petty bother him.
It was an illusion he held like a shield, his thin layer of protection to prevent the cracks from shining through. And it worked.
However…
“You seemed stressed.” William spoke up one morning upon seeing his brother. Ruby red eyes peered up at him from his newspaper, the slightest furrow in his brow upon meeting Albert’s gaze. “Is everything alright?”
“Oh? No, I’m fine.” Albert smiled, taking a seat as he collected the tea Louis made. It was a touch too strong, but he drank it regardless. “Things for our plans are going smoothly. Nothing to be concerned about.”
“That’s good to hear, but I wasn’t asking about our plans.” Folding the paper, William turned his full attention to Albert. “I was asking about you.”
“Will-”
“Albert, I watched you practice that smile until it became natural.” The blonde’s tone snapped his lips shut, making him pause. “That’s the smile you wear when you’re playing the Lord of Crimes. When you have to charm some aristocrats into sharing details or entertain a room as part of your noble stature. It’s an effective tool, but not one designed to hide things from us.” Willam’s voice softened some, concern taking away the edge. “Please tell me, as you-what’s wrong?”
Albert was quiet, stunned by how effective William saw past his illusion. It was true, he had practiced it many times with everyone; slowly molding his new persona into a well fitting mask he sometimes struggled to remove. When he did, it scared him- this person floating beneath the surface of his new role. It was so easy to forget who he was when he wasn’t helping bring London’s current system to its knees; when it was just him and his brothers.
“Albert?” Louis' voice cut through the smog of thoughts, something in his voice he found alarming. When he looked up, he found both brothers staring at him in surprise. Only when he blinked did he realize he’d been crying. “Oh, Albert…”
“Oh dear… how’d that happen?” Albert laughed softly, wiping his face with a shaking hand. “Apologies, gents, didn’t mean to scare anyone.”
“Nevermind that.” Louis scoffed, closing the distance and kneeling before his older brother, trying to catch his eye. “You never cry. Did something happen? Who did it? I’ll find them-”
“Louis.” William’s soft voice stopped his rambling, the other man sitting on the arm of Albert’s seat, his hand squeezing his shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to now, but when you feel ready, we’re here to listen.”
“Really, I’m fine.” Albert choked out, struggling to clear his throat of the stubborn lump residing there. “You mustn't worry about me. I’ll be fine. Must be all the-the dust. Yes, that’s it. It’s dusty in here; my allergies are acting up.”
Louis and William shared a look, conversing with their eyes. Then Louis smiled, a touch sad as he gently patted Albert’s knees. “You know- Brother and I always did that too. We’d get overwhelmed with everything that happened and blame it on dust or grime from the slums, or We’d say we’d accidentally poked ourselves in the eye.”
“Terrible excuses, no? Of course, you never believed them for a second.” William nodded in agreement, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into Albert’s shoulder as he reflected on the memory. “You’d tell us it’s a big brother’s job to help his younger ones when they cry, no matter what the reason.”
“Cause it’s true-” Albert cut in.
“And it’s the job of the younger siblings to make sure they help their eldest brother when he’s in tears.” Louis leaned his arms against his knees, resting his chin in them as he gave Albert a small but encouraging smile. “Even if they have the gall to say the room’s dusty after I’ve cleaned it.”
The brunette let out a wet laugh, the sound making the other two grin. Shaking his head, Albert let out a breath before clearing his throat, finally starting to calm. “Apologies. I dislike crying- it makes me feel so…vulnerable.” He sighed, reaching out to gently run his fingers through Louis’ hair, his other hand coming out to pat William’s hand. “I guess it’s not so bad with you two, though.”
“You guess?” William tsked in mock offense, sharing another look with his brother before the hand on Albert’s shoulder began to slide, creeping across his upper back. “How rude. All these years later and you only guess it’s okay to be yourself around us?”
“You know what I me-eeh!” Albert straightened when the hand found his neck, curling against his nape. “Will, don’t you dare.”
“Dare what? We’re only sitting here.” Louis defended, the arms resting on Albert’s lap stretching so he could grasp each knee, something playful entering his expression. “Why so tense, brother?”
“You know whhiihihhiy! Will!” Albert yelped with a giggle when the hand at his neck wiggled, making him scrunch some. “Dohoohon’t!”
“My, you’re awfully fidgety today, Albert.” William teased, two fingers continuing to scratch at his brother’s neck while the rest of them pressed gently, sending little pulses of ticklishness across his nerve endings. “What’s the matter? Have to use the restroom?”
“Ants in your trousers?” Louis teased, his own hands squeezing Albert’s knees in a similar fashion, making him squirm. “Tickly ones?”
“Oh, I’ve heard of those. Devious little things.” William nodded solemnly, smirking when Albert blushed, a hand swatting at him. “No? What’s wrong then?”
“Wihihihihilliam! Lohohoohuis! SThaahahahp ihhiihit!” Albert broke into a fit of laughter, curling in on himself as William brought his second hand in, wiggling it gently against the back of his ribs. “Geahhahahaa! Thhiihihis isn’t fhahahhahair!”
“I disagree. I think this is quite fair.” Louis giggled, clearly enjoying himself. With his weight against Albert’s legs, he leaned up some to give his brother’s waist a squeeze, laughing when the brunette hooted. “You always tickled us when we were upset. It’s about time we return the favor. Right, brother?”
“Absolutely, Louis.” William nodded, one hand carrying on squeezing Albert’s neck while the other reached for his armpit, knowing how bad a spot that was for his brother growing up. “Come to think of it- I can’t recall the last time Albert properly laughed for us, can you?”
“Not at all. Such a travesty.” Louis tsked, yelping when Albert’s hand found his chin. “Ahhehhehe! Nohohohoo!”
“Yehehehhehehs!” Albert giggled back, his other hand latching onto William’s thigh and squeezing, nearly sending the other blonde flying off his seat. If they were gonna tickle him, he’d at least get a few back. “Thhiihihihs is whahahhat you gehe-AH!”
Well- so much for that idea.
“Ohoohoho? Is this still a bahhad spot?” William grinned when Albert arched away, arms shooting back to his chest when he wiggled both hands into his armpits from behind. Loud, beautiful laughter boomed from their brother’s lips; deep belly laughs that were so recognizable he tried to fight down on a daily basis. “There it is!”
“AH! Ahehahahhhahahahhaa! Whihiihihihihll, plehehehhahahhahahahse!” Albert cackled, sinking in his chair as he tried to fight off the hands. William simply changed positions, going from the front to carry on his playful assault. “Dhohoohohoohohn’t tihihihihihickle meehhehhee thehehehheheherhe!”
“Why not? It’s proving rather effective.” Willam laughed, yelping once more when Albert tried grabbing his waist. “Nohoohpe! No, absolutely nohoht! Louis hehehelp!”
“On it!” Bailing on Albert’s legs, he grabbed his brother’s wrists; pulling them up so William could properly tickle him. “There we are- finally smiling for real now.”
“GEHAHHAHHA, YOOOHOHOU TWOHOHOHOHO! STAHHAHHAHAP!” Albert squealed, all but falling out of his seat as his worst spot was attacked. It didn’t help Louis had begun running his thumbs against the outskirts of his palms, a tickle spot even he had little knowledge about prior to today. “I’M CHEhEHEHHERRED UP ENOOOHOOHOHUGH NOW PLEHHHAHAHHASE!”
“Hmm…do you think he really is, brother?” Louis asked, unable to fight down a giggle at the pig snorts breaking up Albert’s laughter.
“Seems that way to me, Louis. Very well.” William stopped, pulling his hands back as he watched Albert gasp for air. “Look at you- red faced and giggly. One’d think you had too much wine again, Al.”
“Yoohohou two…are gonna be the dehahhath of me.” Albert groaned, pulling himself back into his seat with Louis’ help. “Whahas that really necessary?”
“Yes.” The blondes said in unison.
Albert laughed, running a hand through his hair, his entire body tingling from the tickles. When he opened his eyes, he found the pair watching him fondly, sharing a small smile to themselves.
Without much warning, he grabbed them both, yanking them into the chair with him.
“Ah! Albert, this isn’t that big of a chair!” William yelped, letting out a small ‘oof’ when Louis unceremoniously crashed into him.
“We’re not children anymore- we all can’t fit in one seat like then!” Louis tried to argue, nodding apologetically to his brother after his elbow went into his gut.
“Oh please, you two are so dramatic.” Albert laughed, one arm around each of them as he hugged them close. Tight quarters aside, it was nice having them near. “Don’t worry- I don’t plan on getting vengeance. Yet.” He gave them both a light squeeze to their sides, earning a huff of giggles. “But truly…thank you.”
“For crushing you?” William asked, brows raised. “I suppose some enjoy that.”
“Hush.” Albert rolled his eyes, nudging him some. “You know what I mean. I’ve….been feeling off lately. It’s like you said; this whole ordeal we’ve found ourselves in…it can become overwhelming. Sometimes I’m scared that I’ll lose who I am. Not my status or anything like that but…me. Albert.” He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the back of the chair as he looked for the words. “I suppose that’s why I’m so grateful for you two. If I didn’t have you…who knows what I’d be. Or who’d I be.” That lump was coming back. Why was he so weepy today? “So yes…thank you.”
The pair were quiet as he spoke, still even when he finished. For a scary moment, Albert was concerned he spoke too much. Before he could try to remedy that, something reached up to flick him lightly between the brow.
“Such a sap.” William teased gently, even if his voice sounded a little thick. Albert crinkled his face at him, earning a laugh. “You’ll never have to worry about that with us, though. No matter what happens, or what the world has in store, you’ll still be Albert to us.”
“That’s right. Our eldest brother.” Louis nodded in agreement, reaching out and squeezing his hand. “You’ll always be you, under the surface. Nothing will change that.”
Albert didn’t trust his voice. Instead, he only hugged them to him, letting the feeling of much needed assurance wash over him like a gentle wave.
He was so truly grateful for them. His brothers.
Thanks for reading!
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maegalkarven · 6 months
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An interlude. What now?
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Happens between Empty Prayers and Dreams of Red.
Nemo tries to be serious and Think of the Future. It backfires.
Characters: Dark Urge (Nemo), Enver Gortash, Astarion, Karlach, Wyll, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel.
TW: mentions of cannibalism, questionable way to raise children (Nemo wtf), canon-typical Durge behavior.
Info about Nemo's assassins:
https://www.tumblr.com/maegalkarven/732101148639707136/so-i-actually-created-most-of-the-notable?source=share
"You do realize we all are doomed, right?" The question comes out of nowhere amidst of one of the calmest nights they have. It breaks the feeble illusion of peace right away.
"Now, you don't have to put it like that," Gale tries. "We still have some choices-"
"Blowing yourself up is not a choice," Wyll cuts out, uncharacteristically sour.
"But-"
"No, Gale," Shadowheart agrees. "No more stupid self-sacrifices for the gods who do not deserve that. Besides, you remember what Gortash said? What if you have done as Mystra wanted you to and detonated the orb in the illithid colony, it would turn every parasite-infested person into mindflayer?"
"I'm not sure how much we can trust a word of the former Chosen of Bane."
"Fair," the former Chosen of Shar agrees. "I wouldn't trust him either. But something tells me this time he was telling the truth."
"He also sits just across you, if your memory is that fragile," Gortash comments. "And thank you, not like I was thinking of impending doom and our deaths for every hour of every day now."
"Not like you kickstarted this whole event," Karlach comments.
"And what would you have me to do, let Orin kill Nemo?"
"Well, you could have not tried to conquer the world using the extremely dangerous magical artifact and, you know, the Elder Brain."
"You keep saying that, but I have yet to hear a single idea how to fix it and for us, you know, not die drastically and like fools."
"Everyone always dies like a fool," Astarion comments. "Death is dumb like that."
"If you'd only let me finish," Nemo raises his voice. "And stopped this 'woe are us, we are doomed' crying-"
"We are listening," Wyll tries. "Oh, well, at least I am trying to."
Nemo sends him a grateful look.
"Alright, let's start it anew, you literal bickering children-"
"Hey-"
"Gortash started it-"
"Oh, fuck off-"
"Quiet," and surprisingly, they all quiet down. This is who Nemo is forced to work with these days. Unbelievable.
"We are screwed. This is not me being overly dramatic, this is not me being pessimistic, this is the actual truth we're dealing with. The Elder brain has one stone and if it wasn't breaking out of the hold before - which he was, very much - it's clearly out of it now. Now, the questions why it hasn't turned everyone into mindflayers and why it's playing laying low for now is a mystery, but-“
"It's luring us back to it," Astarion comments. "What? Can't we offer our thoughts too? I didn't know it's One Man show you're having here."
"You have no idea how many people have been stabbed over interrupting him mid speech," Gortash comments. "Me included."
"Oh yeah, well, maybe try to not talk over me, asho-"
"I wasn't talking over you-"
"Just like you aren't doing it now?" Nemo glares at him. "You're lucky I need you alive."
"Thank you oh so kindly, the gracious one-"
"Tsk'va," Lae'zel interrupts the quarrel. "You two desire to tear into each other’s flesh so much it makes you stupid. Go get the urges out of the system and come back when you're capable of being rational."
This comment, made with intention of calming things down, has rather the opposite effect.
"You're the one to talk," Nemo hisses as his face reddens.
"I do not ‘desire to tear into his flesh’," Gortash argues.
Astarion laughs.
"Yes, and I am not a vampire spawn."
"Can we not fight?" Wyll, an unfortunate voice of reason amidst this chaos.
"Oh, I don't know," Gale smirks. "I rather find it amusing to watch."
"You know what?" Nemo snaps. "Go on, detonate this orb. I'm done with it."
"Now I'm not going to, purposely because you asked me so nicely."
"I fucking hate this family."
"Karlach, you already said that."
"It doesn't mean I hate it any less."
"I miss my children," Nemo suddenly chimes in. "They listened to me."
"Your who?"
"Oh, please," Gortash snorts. "I once saw one of your children stab her brother over something minor."
"It was their brother and it was nothing minor. He took their target, that's just rude."
"I'm sorry," Gale tries. "Can we backtrack now? What children are you talking about now?"
Nemo blinks at them.
"Oh," he exclaims. "My assassins, of course, the ones I personally brought into the fold."
"And the reason you address them as children is because..?"
"They were orphans Nemo picked up from the streets," Gortash mentions. "At least that's what I was told."
"Excuse me, what?" Karlach, indignation flaring with her fire. "You stole children?"
"First of all, it's kidnapped and not stole. Second of all, they came willingly," Nemo scoffs. "And really, do you think they had any other choice? Do you think any good life was waiting for them? I saved their lives."
"You've abducted children into the cult and made them killers," Wyll speaks. "Nemo, this is-"
"Wrong?" He interrupts. "How wrong can it truly be? They would die without me, or better yet, get killed. Do you think there's mercy for a girl who took a life of her stepfather? Whose mother blamed her for the murder even if said stepfather was in dire need of killing?" He pierces Wyll with a sharp stare.
"Do you think Flaming Fists would save a little tiefling boy with too much magic in his blood? Do you think they'd get to the mad crowd in time and protect the boy from it? Do you think they'd even care?  A tiefling child, an evil child, a hellspawn. No one would miss him, no one would cry for him. And," he smiles and this smile looks poisonous.
"Do you think your honorable father would spare a child whose survival was linked to the deal with the fiend? Do you think he, who exiled his own son, would look at destruction of the House Et'rris, at the only surviving its member, linked to a devil, and help them? Save them?" His voice drops to a low tone.
"How dare you judge me? You were not there to save these children, I was. What did I do but gave them a second chance? What did I do but gave them home? Where else would they go? Who else would feed starving orphans on the streets, Duke Ravengard?" He laughs an ugly, bitter laugh.
"The Council of Four? Don't be ridiculous, they never even looked down to see the low folk struggling. Those children, all those children would die if not for me. From the so-called justice, from an angry mob, from prison, from starvation. I found them, fed them, cared for them. I made them best of the best, the perfect murderers, the perfect shadows of the night. And who can hurt them now, when they're the worst things haunting Baldur's Gate? Who would dare to strike at them but their own? I made them strong."
The stunned, eerie silence falls over the camp.
Then Karlach raises her voice.
"What did you feed them with?"
"This is irrelevant."
"No, it's not."
"It was a good meat: not rotten, not touched by any diseases, I even cooked it-"
"I fed children the human flesh?!" Gale asks in horror.
"Of course you'd assume it was human," Nemo scoffs. "It was elven too, you know. Some dwarf meat, even halfling or tiefling there and there-"
"You did what?!"
"It was that or starving on the streets! And anyway, I was fed humanoid flesh my entire life and I turned out alright-"
Astarion scoots a little closer to Gortash.
"He did not turn out alright," the pale elf whispers, watching the argument rising to new, dangerous heights. "And you knew that, didn't you?"
"What Nemo eats flesh?" Gortash hums. "It wasn't a big secret."
"And what he feeds his...children the same?"
"It's a Cult of Murder," the man shrugs. "One expects some level of atrocities from it."
"That's not the answer."
"That's the one you'll get," Astarion watches Gortash watching Nemo, a small satisfies smile dancing on his lips. "I don't particularly care what he feeds his assassins, only what all of them seem to care very little for table manners."
"So I'm guessing you've met them?"
"Yes."
"...What are they like?"
"Why don't you ask their benefactor that and not the man who saw them once or twice?"
"Because their benefactor is currently in a screaming match with our companions," Astarion's shrugs. "Though he seems to be holding his ground just alright."
Gortash snorts.
"He used to lead fifty or so bloodthirsty murderers and made it look easy," another long, heavy look at Nemo. "He is good at handling people. Bhaal convinced Nemo the best thing a bhaalshapwn can be is a perfect blade, which is a shame, really. Nemo would do wonders in high court; he has enough charisma and intelligence to wrap the nobles around his fingers without them so much as noticing it.”
"It sounds like you admire him," Astarion comments, trying very hard not to feel slighted at that. Of course tyrant admires his nearest in dearest, it was to be expected. And anyway, doesn’t Nemo deserve to be admired?
But why does it sit so ill against his skin?
"Of course I admire him," the tyrant replies, not even looking away from the assassin. "He is brilliant. His part in our plans is not to be overlooked; everything came falling apart the moment Orin replaced him. Bhaal might have been content with a mad woman who could not control her urges, but our plan could not. She made a mess of things, ruined several of carefully constructed plans and hadn't even noticed. The amount of people I had to tadpole simply because Orin was acting unwise is-" he sighs. "Where Nemo would just waltz into the room, smile and bullshit his way through everything, Orin made things worse."
Astarion hums.
"I once saw Nemo convince an orthon to kill his minions, then his pet, then himself," he mentions. "So I can easily see him doing that."
"An orthon?" Gortash looks surprised. "Where in the Nine Hells did you find an orthon?"
"In a Gauntlet of Shar," Astarion shrugs. "He made an ill-fitted deal with Raphael and tried to get out of it. Nemo tricked him into false getaway."
Three's a long silence after that.
"Raphael," Gortash speaks slowly, as if tasting the words. "It's been a while since I've heard that name. How did you stumble into him?"
"More like he stumbled into us. He appeared from the thin air, laid heavy on those sweet talks of his and tried to talk Nemo into a deal. Probably still trying, all things considered. I am not sure what exactly he wants from Nemo, but he is insistent."
Gortash grows silent once more.
"I would advise against strikingly any deals with that particular devil," he comments after a pause. "Deals with him are even fouler than the deal with the devil would be expected to be. Raphael is clever; he is patient and knows how to play the game. Worst of all, he is at advantage of knowing Nemo while Nemo does not know him, and in the position where he is holding a grudge against the dear assassin of mine."
Astarion bites down the bitter taste of the way Gortash claims Nemo as his.
This can wait. His questions would not.
"Why would he hold a grudge against Nemo?"
Gortash actually laughs, a short lived and curt sound, but laugh none less.
"Because Nemo has done something Raphael failed to do. Raphael has been lusting after the Crown of Karsus for millennia, but was never able to relieve it from Mephistopheles' vault. Together Nemo and I successfully orchestrated and executed the plan what brought the crown into our hands."
So this is what Raphael wants.
"He is after the crown," Astarion comment. "And he thinks Nemo will be able to get it for him."
Gortash nods.
"And I can't express enough how this is absolutely a thing what cannot happen. Raphael is bad enough without a otherworldly power what is the Crown of Karsus in his claws."
"So," Astarion studies the man closely. "Better the crown in your hands then?"
Gortash smiles.
"Providing what we can get it off Elder Brain first and live," he comments. "But yes."
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sheikah-simp · 11 months
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Exile//Vilify, One Year Retrospective
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Well folks, as of May 31st, 2023, it has officially been one whole year since the last update for Exile//Vilify was released, and it simultaneously feels like way longer than that and not very long at all. But, in celebration, I wanted to take some time to look back on my thoughts and ideas and processes that led up to the creation of this story, and share some appreciation for all that’s happened since then.
First of all, this book is massive, and it was way more massive than I thought it would be when I set off to write it. It is almost as long as Tolkein’s “Two Towers” and other similar novels—not what I was expecting when I went in to write an origin story about a character completely lacking in personality with no backstory. But if there is one thing I do, and do well, it is commit to the bit. And here, the bit was doing justice to a character I saw having so much potential but was, quite literally, doomed by the narrative, and built to be a throwaway character for a spinoff game consumed by his own hubris and never developed or mentioned again. And I thought to myself, “Man, that sucks! What would it be like to be him?” And the answer is: it would suck a lot, actually. But also in that vein, I still wanted to portray how his life was still a life worth living, and his story, one that was worth telling. Even if it is one that doesn’t “matter” to Nintendo or the LOZ franchise as a whole, even if it’s one I had to entirely make up grasping for straws, it is one that mattered to us. And that’s kind of the thesis of the entire book.
Many of you know I’m a Pokemon writer (hence username) and I never really intended to write in other fandoms, but I dont know what I expected. Something about this character just fucking gripped me, and I couldnt let myself stop until his story was out of me. But the thing is, I wasn’t super interactive within the Pokemon fandom. I had actually just ended a huge general life hiatus for mental health and had made a resolution to get back to what I love. The result of that was the completion of The Devil and the Dead Sea and the start of my hardenshipping series. But I just kind of dropped that book on AO3 when it was complete and then didnt interact with anyone. I wrote it and then uploaded it all at once, which didnt give me a lot of time or opportunity to develop a community and discuss updates. I had a few people who reached out, but nothing close to the type of community I’ve felt now.
I have been so full of love and blown away by the support I’ve received from this small but mighty niche in the community. So first of all, I just want to say thank you. I'm so glad that I could bring this story to life and so blessed to think of how many people it's touched. So now I just want to take a moment and look back on the book and how it started, what things changed, and where it's going and what's happening in the future.
Exile//Vilify's conception
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Does it feel like a trial? Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine?
The band, The National, has inspired I think all of my fics to this point. After playing Age of Calamity, Astor had been swimming around so much in my head, especially since so much of his mysteries were unanswered. And one day blorbo was on my brain in just the correct way at just the correct time when I happened to be listening to a completely unrelated song from Portal 2, Exile Vilify. The book, of course, has nothing to do with Portal, but on that particular day, the lyrics really spoke to me of Astor and his potential struggles, and I became fascinated with the idea of him and his ideological square-off against the king: a man who was so set on defying prophecy and the man who, well, prophesied it.
So Exile//Vilify was born, to me, actually in the concept of a butting of heads between King Rhoam and Astor. I saw the song lyrics as a dialogue between the two of them, mutual antagonistic (but also troubled) feelings shared between them. So King Rhoam was actually going to have a much bigger role in my original vision for Exile//Vilify. In fact there was a toss up in my mind between whether or not he'd have an odd homoerotic rivalry thing for the king, or his crush on the queen, but--
But the simple fact of the matter is I found Rhoam super unlikeable and sadly couldn't find a good way to get into his head in a way that would be sustainable for a novel. So while the concept is what initially gripped me, Exile//Vilify ended up going in a different direction, although the inception of that concept is definitely still there. The closest I've gotten to writing my desired dynamic between Astor and the King was in "Prophecies to Waterfowl," a one-shot in my short stories compilation Stories from Exile. ("Prophecies to Waterfowl," aside from "Voe and You," is my favorite of my stories in that compilation).
Other things that were cut/changed in the writing process
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When I realized the fic was getting as massive as it was, I wanted to streamline its focus and decided to cut down on some plotlines. I could have just left it was it was, because fic writing is about being self-indulgent, but I want to challenge myself to be a better writer than that. (Not that there is anything wrong with just writing to be self-indulgent, but I use my fics as my place to practice and get better, so I need to.. actually practice).
One of the biggest things that was therefore cut was the relationship between Astor and Ganondorf, and the implications of Astor's past lives. How Astor became the one selected by Ganondorf. Because in the fic, it just ended up seeming random, which was intentional. Fate is merciless and random and does not pick and choose, while also picking and choosing.
There were going to be more Astor and Ganon dream scenes planned, and a plotline of Astor's "awakening" somewhere along the line where he unlocked visions of his past as a different kind of royal seer--the seer to Ganondorf. There are hints of this in the dreams, but nothing concrete.
Still, the idea of what "could be" still fascinates me, and I love the idea of exploring the idea of Astor as Ganondorf's reincarnated seer, and I have a one shot that I am currently working on that explores this very concept, and can be considered canon (or semi-canon) to Exile//Vilify. I hope to have that out... soon. Ish. Eventually. I have a lot cooking right now.
Other honorable mentions:
Astor was going to have more blatant romantic feelings for Rose.
Astor was going to have more blatant romantic (or complicated) feelings for Rhoam.
The contention between Ganondorf trying to push Astor into evil and Thelem agreeing to block Ganon from Astor in the meantime was also going to be explored more, but Ganondorf got his last laugh on that eventually.
Even more fucking Order of the Seers stuff (culture, rituals, etc)
Chapters of Astor stalking Link and Zelda leading up to the awakening of the Calamity
More Yiga scenes (my little teen Kohga gives me oxygen) and Astor building a cult following of people who worship Ganon
Astor having basically a weird prophetical drug addiction to the "high" of witnessing the Great Calamity in his visions (this is kind of implied in the book, but not expanded on)
All of these things, ultimately, were great ideas, and things I'd love to explore and maybe will some day if I'm ever inspired enough on any of them to write anything concrete. They were just things that slightly detracted from the story I wanted to tell. But that's why I keep Stories from Exile around.
So What's Next?
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As I mentioned, I have a few things Exile//Vilify related still in the works. The first is that Astor/Ganondorf one shot I was talking about. (Likely going to be called "Prophet to a Gerudo King.") I also have a secret surprise fic commission that is also Astor/Ganondorf related and involves an AU and the Stories from Exile universe ;) (that one will hopefully be out soon).
I have a lot of things on my Stories from Exile list that were not out yet, and I may revisit them if I'm feeling or have the time. I'd love to keep updating that one every now and again, now that Exile//Vilify is complete, just to keep the world alive.
I also am planning on doing a limited, hard-cover release of Exile//Vilify to celebrate its publication. I have a great team of people who have been slowly helping me copyedit this massive beast so I can get it printed from a self-publishing company. It will not be publicly listed for sale, as it is illegal for me to sell or make money off of it. This hardcover will only be available to obtain for those who contact me on tumblr during a specific time frame. That time frame is not now. When I have a more clear set date for that, I will circulate posts. You will have to cover the cost of shipping and maybe some of the printing depending on what the cost is on my end, but the book will be free. It will likely be 500+ pages. It will likely happen by the end of the year.
That said, as the book nears being printed, if you would like to lend a hand proofreading, there is still time!! Please just DM me. You will have the option to be credited in the hardcover if you'd like.
And finally, you'll still be able to find me here, and updating in my other writing. I still really love receiving asks about this book, so please never be a stranger to my inbox. Sometimes I have more energy and power to reply than others, but every ask always makes my day.
I have planned "Trouble Will Find Me," which is a Thelem and Azelphir prequel that will detail some of the stuff that I didn't have time to develop about the Order of the Seers, and Thelem's origin story. This one I might just release all in one chunk - uncertain right now. At that point though... isn't that kind of just original fiction.... set in the BOTW world???? Unsure.
I'll also be returning to my Pokemon series, The Dead Sea Trilogy, if you have any interest in that fandom or my other writing.
That's all I have for you! Thank you all so much for an amazing year (really more than that, since I've been posting about this big honkin' thing since December 2020...) and thank you so much for being such a great community. I can't wait to see where else this journey leads.
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abeinginsand · 8 months
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i put this in a post but i wanted to shar eit with you as well this is a fic idea i have that i have yet to write:
thwres a heatwave happening but theyre still going to school cuz shit's fucked and taylor and scary ger out od class early so they're waitinf for the others to link up with them right? so they're waiting and taylor is like scary i feel weird and scary is like you are weird and taylor is like no i meannn uhhhh and then scary gets concerned and asks taylor what's wrong and he's not answering and then he fucking. faints and she freaks out and she's like TAYLOR. TAYLOR. TAYLOR. TAYLOR WAKE UP and taylor is like huh whwaa and scary tells him he fainted ane the sit down afainst the wall and taylor is leaning against her and shes freqkint out and she texts the group chat with the teens and tells them guys taylor fainted come now bring water and of course link is there immediately and he gives taylor his own water bottle which is like. lukewarm at best in this weather and norm comes with a fresh cold bottle cuz he was not as panicked and trying to get tgere as fast as possible as link was you know and taylor is sitting there and everything is kind of fuzzy but he can hear link telling him to drink so he does and he can hear them throwing around the word nurse and heat exhaustion and he doesn't really know what's going on and then link picks him up and carries him and they take him to the nurse . smth i also thought would be fun is ther not being a nurse becquse of tge apocalypse bullshit so they go and raid the first aid equipment and fuckin try to cool taylor down with ice and cold water
i may have talked to you about this before but i like the idea of taylor being extra susceptible to overheating because he is 1/4 demon which causes him to run hot and 3/4 human which means that the demon heat levels aren't regulated well at all, thus making him more likely to overheat to the point of passing out
OOO yeah you did talk to me about the hc alittle bit before, I think its very creative!! love seeing the demon genes explored :D Definitely feel the overheating struggles for summer weather, got really dizzy yesterday too, very disorienting Dx this is so good though and ahh scary's little banter made me laugh (deadpan "yeah you're weird) asdfghj then the sheer panic when she realizes something's wrong oh no heartwrenching. I like how she let Taylor lean on her and contacted everyone :'0 Linc trying to get there as fast as possible is sweet and then Normal knowing to get the cold water too!! Reminds me of his fact about getting heat stroke before. Taylor being so out of it too..nice that the three are looking out for him. Aw carrying him the whole way too!! Oh man, good point, the nurse being gone because of the chaos makes a lot of sense. I'm loving the idea cookies :]
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