#tavrem

[yangcherie]

bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #gale x reader #halsin x reader #tavrem #as they say #this was fun to write #this was very lame actually #sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it

[madwomansapologist]

blossoming alone over you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: it's 31st december. i'm drunk. song "pink on the night" by mitsky for wyll. song "working for the knife" by mitsky for astarion. song "abbey" by mitsky for shadowheart. companions (wyll, astarion, shadowheart) x druid!tav. background cast (karlach, kagha, halsin, lae'zel, gale, cazador). tav is used as a nickname. wyll stuttering. astarion seeing draws of himself because he fucking deserves it. shadowheart falling for a druid that can turn into a wolf.

Trust betrayed, secrets spread, lies disguised as facts. That's how life works. It gives you hope, then crushes it front of your eyes. It let's you reach your goal, just to rip it out from your bare fingers.

The cruelty of life is the ultimate sign that gods do exist. There must be a higher being watching its puppets pathetic attempts of conquering an unreachable happiness. There are other proofs, but that's the easiest to perceive.

And they were used to it. From the renowed Blade of Frontiers to the pale elf hiding in the shadows: they all knew what to expect from life. Dishonest agreements, stolen hearts, the cold embrace of loss. Life is painful, so they shielded themselves from any harm.

But not you.

At first they assumed you were naive. The things Shadowheart thought to herself when you reached for a hand stuck in a portal; or how easily Astarion deceived you when he thought you were a mind flayer; even Wyll judged you from time to time.

You let your guard down easily. Instead of protecting yourself, you were helping others. Instead of using your teeths and claws to get what you wanted, you preserved nature.

But naive you were not. You may have trusted them too easily, but you weren't blind. You knew when a question was a order, when a joke was a threat, when a smile was just sharp teeth showing.

You discovered what Astarion really was and demanded he wouldn't maim anyone that didn't deserved it. You convinced Wyll that the evil he so wanted to tear apart was a victim. Saw right throught Kagha's distorted teachings, don't matter how alluring they sounded.

To turn a foe into a friend was your instinct, but you were not hesitant to solve problems with violence if it was needed. And sometimes you even got pleasure from it.

Wyll will never forget your face after finding out about Kagua's deal with the shadow druids. You didn't even allowed the party to rest. All your party received from you was an order to clean the ivy from their weapons.

"Shouldn't we focus on freeing Halsin? He must understand Kagha better than us," Wyll pointed. "You're a druid, but that doesn't mean the groove sees you as one of them. But they will hear Halsin."

"She can hear me," you slammed your staff on the ground, giving strength to your certainty. It pulsed with energy, and its glow matched the beat of your heart. "Or she can die. I can grant her mercy, but I won't give her time."

Wyll felt his body getting warmer, Shadowheart's impressed whistle reached his ear. "O-Of course," he cleared his throat. "After you."

"We'll purge some rats," you smirked at him. It didn't feel threatening. "Can I count with your blade?"

"Always," Wyll answered you, staring at your back. He could stare at your back all day. And he meant it.

Seeing that you weren't naive, Astarion came to a conclusion about you. Meanwhile the Blade of Frontiers stopped seeing your benevolent acts as a signs of impulsivity, the pale elf saw them as a mask. Something meant to cover what others should be paying attention to instead.

After all, who would suspect that something is rotten when the scent is sweet?

You're beautiful. Astarion admit it. Your laugh reverberates through the forests, your tiredness calls for aid, your eyes attract and soothe. Beautiful faces can make up for dirty minds, soft words can hide the lack of a heart, pretty acts are easier to see than destructive intentions.

You're just like him. Astarion sees it, clear as the sea. Your delicate smiles and his gaze full of lust are just as fake. Your sweet words and his dirty innuendos are both rehearsed. In need of this party, it's not hard to understand why you two would act to ensure they don't ever leave.

When Shadowheart cures you first, Astarion's invisible reflection occupies your eyes. When Lae'zel attacks monsters aiming at you, he's your shadow. When Gale puts more food on your plate, Astarion can see his smile on your face.

He wouldn't be surprised to find out that you both look the same.

One may say that your corrupt intentions are nothing compared to the good you've already done, but Astarion is not so idealistic. Sin stains your good deeds, he can see it. You depict yourself as someone better than them, better than him, but that's just your depraved plan to survive.

And he can't blame you. It's working perfectly.

Astarion may despise you for being as dirty as himself, but he respects that part of you. He trusts your plans, your combat skill, your magic. You're good on what you do. Screaming instructions to help during fights, discovering hidden passages, trading for better weapons.

You're not a good person, but there's a reason for why you survived this far. You're competent. That Astarion can respect. That's why he's constantly trying to get on your good side. You are smart and strong. Maybe strong enough to rip Cazador apart.

And if you haven't realize that Astarion is putting on an act to win your heart, than the shame is on you for not realizing that you both are the exactly same thing.

But you had to show him how wrong he was.

At midnight you approached his tent with your sketchbook. Astarion thought you wanted a distraction, using your drawings just as an excuse to talk a bit. Gods know he was dying of boredom before you appeared.

"I didn't knew you were so talented, darling," he praised you.

Illuminated by candles, Astarion let his guards down. Instead of just saying the right thing at the time, Astarion was really impressed at your skills.

It must be nice. To be able to create things with your bare hands. Sometimes he cry at the start of a good book. He don't know why, but it must be because he too would like to be making things. Astarion thinks that creating is the ultimate sign that you're alive, instead of just surviving.

Maybe one day he can become a poet.

"I can't help but notice that you have a muse," it was clear someone had attracted your gaze. Maybe a dear friend you miss, or perhaps another competitor for your attention. "Should I worry about being replaced?"

Astarion expect you to flush, but all you did was to get... softer? You seemed to shrivel up.

Your mouth dried up. He doesn't even recognize himself. Astarion don't even remember how he looked like.

"That's you, Astarion," you told him. "And that's a gift. You helped a lot these past months and... All I'm trying to say is that I'm grateful."

It was the first time you saw Astarion in silence. Paper by paper, he admired your drawings. Do they look bad? You've spent a lot of time training to be able to create something worthy of his beauty, but you admit they're not perfect.

Or maybe it isn't the quality. It's the fact that you spend so long drawing him. How many hours did you spend on those sketchs? How many hours did you spend glaring at him from your tent? Does he feel ofended? Invaded?

"That's how you see me?" Astarion whispered.

You barely heard his words.

"Yes, Astarion," you licked your lips. "I know some can be..."

His hand on your thigh stopped the rant you were about to go on. His bloody eyes were sharp. Just like the day you first met him, his dagger against your throat. Astarion looked pleased, but not happy.

As if he discovered being right about something he rather not be.

What you gave him... this is a treasure. So many drawings, so many angles, so many poses. How many centuries has it been since he last saw himself? How many since Astarion forgot his own face? Sometimes he touches his face, trying to picture it, but his imagination isn't good.

You gave him something priceless.

And when something is priceless that people discover how sunk in debt they really are.

"And now you want me to pay you back," his husky voice made shivers went down your spine. His nails scratched lightly your skin, drawing shapes on your thigh. "Don't you?"

You jumped from your spot, getting away from him. You were flushed, but not in a good way. "From where I came from," you breathed in. You sounded offended. "Something that puts you in debt isn't a gift."

As you turned over to go to sleep, you felt that if you didn't say what you really thought you would end up exploding. You know you don't have the right to speak about his life, but that didn't stopped you.

"Cazador made you believe that you have to sell yourself to be worth of anything, but he's wrong. He was wrong since the very start. We'll lacerate that monster for what he did to you. And that I promise you: it won't be fair. Cazador don't deserve fair."

You felt your nails digging the skin of your palms. "That was a gift. Get used to it."

Maybe Astarion was wrong about you. And maybe he was wrong about himself.

Merciful, but not weak. Gentle, but not naive. Pleasing, but not manipulable. You were a walking question mark. Whenever they thought they understood what you were, you proved them wrong. Not impulsive. Not manipulative. Not stupid.

Until they came up with a word that described you too perfectly. A word that didn't need any buts or explanations. One that everyone cognize, but that isn't used often. That don't deserve to be used often.

You're kind.

It's in your nature to be considerate. You help others because you can. No. Wrong. And that's something that Shadowheart still don't really understand: you help others because you can, so therefore you should.

She has only one goal in mind. Shadowheart needs to make to Baldur's Gate with the mysterious artifact in safety, and if she does everything right... maybe her Lady will grant her what she truly want.

But you make Shadowheart forget about all that.

She must be discreet, she did that her whole life, and still Shadowheart finds herself talking about her goddess to you. Her mission depends on her going straight towards Baldur's Gate yet there she's, following you as you try to solve everyone's problems.

Shadowheart didn't even noticed. She didn't made a rational choice to open herself to you. She just did it. Almost as if you were fundamental part of her forgotten past and her heart couldn't do nothing but to trust you.

You impervious into her prayers. Invaded her dreams. Burned your mark inside her mind. Your name feels like honey on her tongue. Like a sweet treat that she can never get enough of.

You tempted her, luring her with your determination and grace, and Shadowheart proved herself sinful once again.

If only you had judged Shadowheart for her loyalty to Lady Shar. Asking her what her favorite flower is. Listening to her opinions. Even when she was nothing but distant and cold, you were sweet. Toothaching sweet.

Shadowheart was hungry. She'd been hungry for her whole life. Starving for something easy. Something raw. Something more than a beautiful concepts. Something real. And how could a starving person ignore a banquet?

She can't. Shadowheart couldn't. But she should've. Damn, she should've.

You're testing her faith. Constantly. Every smile, every vulnerable look, every act of protection. It's like you're trying to compete with Lady Shar for the control over her mind. Sometimes it feels like you're winning.

She was admiring the sky without stars when the wolf came. All it took was a sight to paralyze her. Shadowheart had a mace, but the weapon was useless in her trembling hands.

The giant beast, wool pale from the moonlight, foamy drool dripping from its fangs. In a golden glow that being of darkness transformed into something.

Into you.

"It's just me," you whispered to her, eyes wide with worry and blame. "I didn't... You're safe. You're fine."

She forced herself to unclench her jaw. "Don't tell any of them," Shadowheart hissed as soon as she knew she could speak without stuttering. "Let this fear I have stay as a secret."

"As you wish," was what you said. No questions, no jokes, no provocations.

You went back to rummage through lost boxes and barrels in the ruined village. You had goblin's blood staining your face, but it didn't seen to bother you. "I wish I had a bag of holdings," you murmured to yourself.

Shadowheart was grateful. Either you decided to change the subject to cease her embarrassment or you just were this easily distracted, it still meant something. Her flushed cheeks went unnoticed.

She leafed through some damp books, trying to find something useful. "Embrace loss," she murmured to you. Now your attention was back on her. "We'll never let you have one."

You gasped. "Moon, why is that?"

Shadowheart ignored how breath turned into a difficult task when you used that new nickname.

"Face it, Tav," she called you by the nickname Gale created to you. "You are a compulsive hoarder. I've seen you keep a rotten apple in your pocket."

"I thought it could be useful!"

Shadowheart smiled. She did not even realized she was smiling. "I bet you did."

You have a soft spots for battles you can't possible win, protecting people in need and turning foes into friends. And apparently you are their soft spot.

Part 2!

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #kind!druid!tav #tavrem #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravengard x reader #wyll ravengard x tav #oc: liliana wilde

[overcrowded-camp]

i love having all my companions with me. they talk so much. i love them. the whole world feels so alive now. also the fights are way easier.

#i loooooove hearing them chatting while i loot stufd #it’s so cute #i love them all so so sooooo much LMAO #tavrem

[madwomansapologist]

gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions

Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: As the end of the year approaches, the group united by worms decides over starting a tradition: exchanging gifts!

warnings: i don't think there is any...? this can be seen as tavrem or just platonic. ASTARION FLIRTS. i use tav as a nickname for reader, so... i made the sortition on a site so this is really random. i swear. like y'all wont't believe me, but it's random. also, i love those weirdos. just thought i should said that. happy rest of 2023 for all of us!

After losing a bet, Gale was responsible for starting what soon will be a tradition among the almost honorable group.

Gale stood up from his place near the fire, an unopened package floating beside his body, making a little flourish. "When I found out who companion I would gift, an immense honor took over my chest. My virtuosic―"

"Chk," Lae'zel crossed her arms. The look on her face was clear: she was daring Gale to dare her. "Humanoid, use fewer words."

Gale breathe in, so close to losing it. One things is to be disrespected, an that he can bear, but to be interrupted? He prepared jokes, and it would even rhyme. Decided not to be the one that would ruin the night, he ignored her.

"To sum up," he smiled at Lae'zel. "What a honor to put a face to the name, Blade of Frontiers."

Wyll hugged Gale, patting his shoulder affectionately. "The honor is all mine to meet such a renowned wizarding prodig."

Gale handed over the package, and then sat back down by the fire. The wine goblet returned to the wizard's hand.

Wyll's smile gradually died. From the packaging, he took out a book. "General Theory of Contracts and Unilateral Acts?" He glared at Gale. "What should this mean?"

"I'm just helping my friend," Gale took a sip. "So in the future you won't sign any appealing contract."

Facing the book that soon will be burned, Wyll regret getting into debt with Tav just so he could buy the perfect gift.

Wyll picked up the bag left on the log, and ignored Shadowheart's giggles.

"In this year full of surprises, good ones and horrible ones, but meeting this person..." Wyll breathed. "Gale, you worthless cunt. Astarion, I hope you like this."

Astarion took the gift with his fingertips, excited to have guessed who had drawn him. He told Karlach that Wyll was acting strange lately. He didn't thanked Wyll, that is something he'll only do if his gift is good.

When he touched what was inside the bag, he knew that the fabric was of quality. And upon seeing the details of the black ensemble, Astarion's smile became real.

"Oh, darling," he purred. "You spoil me."

With a smug smile and a hesitation to provoke his companions, Astarion continued.

"To show that I am capable of doing the right thing from time to time," Astarion licked his fangs. "I spent arduous weeks collecting what I would need for tonight's best gift."

Everyone booed him.

Rolling his eyes, Astarion took the chest from his tent. "I smell the scent of jealousy coming from all of you," said Astarion. He stopped talking, just to play with everyone's feelings. "That one is to my sweet leader."

You cheered as you stood up. If there's one thing no one can say about Astarion, it's that he doesn't have good taste. After all, there is a reason for why he chose to bite you.

"Thank you, darling," you mirrored the way he talks to you. "That won't make me mad, will it?"

"Oh, Tav, you know me" your nickname flowed from his lips like honey. "I only play with your feelings when we have privacy."

When he handed you the trunk, you even stumbled under its weight. You placed it on one of the fallen trees. Opening it, a smile appeared on your face.

Potions. Lots of potions. Of all kinds. Speed, invisibility, healing. Poisons, coatings. From the most basic to the rarest.

Looking at Astarion, you pouted. "Thank you," you whispered.

Excited, you runned to your tent to take the hidden gift. Something on you told you the problems you got yourself into just to able to get that would be worth it.

"Oh gods," Gale murmured. Sarcams dripped from his tongue. "What is that? Can anyone tell?"

"On my defense," you pointed at him. No words made to your brain, so you breathed in. "How else would I pack an trident?"

"Not like that," said Shadowheart.

You chose not to discuss with them only because you knew that just wrapping it with red silk and a pink knot was a bad idea, but it still hurted to know that it was the best you could do. How can wrapping things be so difficult? Why no one told you that it would be so difficult?

"The person I gonna gift deserve the whole world, and one day I will sure that they get's it," you started. Surprised that Lae'zel didn't stopped you already, you continued. "I really wasn't expecting to like that person, but she won my heart so easily."

"Heart," Lae'zel murmured. "Is it Karlach?"

Karlach jumped from her place. "IS IT ME?!"

You showed your tongue to Lae'zel, then turned to Karlach. "Yes, it is!"

In a matter of seconds you were too far from the ground. Only when your breathing had already become a problem did Karlach carefully place you on the ground again.

Karlach tore open the wrapping, the trident glinting in her hands. She was already thanking you so happily. The only reason why she didn't hugged you again was because she didn't want to hurt you.

"This pretty girl in your hands is Nyrulna," you started. "Because of an spell, it'll return to your hand when thrown. Plus, no one can force you to drop it. It also creates an explosion. But the best part is that I found a way to make it red!"

Wyll sighed, and threw his book on the fire.

"Hey!" Gale yelled.

After a little dance to celebrate, Karlach tried to control her beaming smile. She didn't knew most of her companions felt their hearts getting warmer, but if she did it would have just worried her.

Karlach held onto the box she protected with her life to ensure no one would tamper with the gift. "This person deserves a fucking break and I―"

"Shadowheart," you yelled. "Is it Shadowheart?"

"You're fucking right!" Karlach pointed at the cleric. "Is it you, my girl! You're the one that deserve a break!"

"Well," Shadowheart forced a little smile. "Thank you. I guess."

Karlach handed over the small package, and without delay she pulled Shadowheart into a hug. The brunette had no option but to accept it. Carefully, Shadowheart opened the package and found a book with leather cover.

She threw the package on the floor to open it. "What is it about?" Shadowheart asked, flipping through the book.

"It's a collection of erotic stories," said Karlach.

Halsin took a sip from his goblet. Finally someone with taste.

Shadowheart ignored whatever wit comment Astarion made and took a deep breath. "Of course it is."

Shadowheart wasn't recovered from her gift, but the tiredness that overtook her members was also caused by the irony of what was about to happen.

"Lady of Sorrow guides us," Shadowheart whispered to herself. Instead of trying to make people guess who she's about to gift, Shadowheart just threw the box onto Lae'zel's lap. "There is no reason for me to delay this torture even more."

"Chk. Oh. This seems like it's you fate to deal with me." Lae'zel opened the box with one of her daggers. "Let's see if I will thank you, follower of Shar."

Inside the box, Lae'zel found several instruments for improving weapons. How she hated liking the gift. Lae'zel would like to do like Wyll and burn everything just to embarrass Shadowheart, but she couldn't damage such well-made instruments.

"Well done, cleric," Lae'zel hissed.

Lae'zel knew that her gift was the best, but there was a possibility that she did not thought about: maybe she had got the gift she would like to receive. Either way, it would be worth it.

"I share the cleric's interest for no unecessary fuss," Lae'zel was quickly to say. "Bear, I hope you enjoy this."

She handed over the box and walked away before Halsin could think about hugging her. Halsin undid the knot that kept the box closed, and everyone gasped at the sight of his gift.

You looked at Lae'zel. "How did you... Did you keep it all this time? How did you preserve it?"

In the glass above Halsin's hands was Minthara's head.

"You truly are..." Halsin sighed. He didn't knew what to say. "Civilized."

Before Halsin could recover, Gale approached the druid.

Unable to say anything, Halsin handed him the package. Gale didn't care, he just wanted to know what he had won. His smile didn't last a lot.

"Boots, Halsin?" He yelled. "Very mature of you. Very mature."

Wyll laughed at last.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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#madwomansapologist #tavrem #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #lae'zel #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x tav #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #bg3 wyll #karlach #karlach x tav #karlack x reader #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav

[madwomansapologist]

my love mine all mine

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: a sequel to that (you don't need to read if you don't want to). song "my love mine all mine" by mitsky for gale. song "class of 2013" by mitsky for karlach. companions (gale, karlach) x druid!tav. background cast (mystra, halsin, lae'zel, shadowheart, selune, astarion, wyll). this game really is about faith and bodily autonomy. hurt/comfort. falling in love.

There is something endless about suffering. Once you felt hunger, nothing can complete that empty spot inside your soul. No amount of hope can ever make you forget about how painful it was to be helplessness. The sun is warm, but not enough to melt winter away from memory.

No brave adult can forget what felt to be a trembling child facing harshness all alone. It would be so much easier to forget how cruel the world was, but all you do is wonder to yourself: why didn't no one helped me? Why didn't no one saved me?

Even the word survivor feels wrong. It implies that something cruel happened in the wild, far away from home. A survivor has a tale to share with pride, scars to proof how strong you became. But sometimes suffering is just suffering, and the wild is your home.

It doesn't end. The suffering doesn't end, even after it does. It haunts you, laughs as you fumble, stains the good moments with sin.

But not with you.

For every time life was painful, you are caring. For everytime it burned and ached, you are gentle. There is something soft about you. No edges to get cut, no harm to be done. You care without shame, and your delicacy is welcome.

It's been long since someone cared for Gale Dekarios. Not for Gale of Waterdeep, the prodigy able to compose the Weave as he so desired, Mystra's lover and worshiper. But for Gale Dekarios, a man and nothing more than that, it's been so long.

Gale's value is his capability to bend the Weave. No one helped him for a reason other that. No one cared, or loved him for something that wasn't his talent or competence.

He was alone, except by Tara, and he got used to it. It's easy to get used to bad things when you think that you deserves them. It's no surprise that he so easily got used to being a dead man walking.

It was fine. Fine that his goddess wouldn't save him, that she would cast him away. Gale took it on himself, he knows that. Sometimes people don't get salvation. Sometimes they don't get a second chance. Sometimes things just end.

But you helped him. You held his hand and pulled him out of stone, unaware that you were actually pulling Gale towards you. You didn't asked for a payment or answers. You just held him.

And Gale held you back.

The world trembled. Poisoned mace. His defenses were already low when the goblin attacked. He knew his party won, but he can't remember how. His conscience was barely a whisper, as uneasy and skittish.

His feet were moving, he could feel it, but Gale wasn't controling them. Darkness devoured him, and the world was reduced to a cold freeze against his face.

"Karlach, you got the first watch," a distorted voice startled him. He wasn't alone. It took Gale a second to understand who was talking. "Halsin, Lae'zel broke her wrist. Shadowheart, follow me."

Gale is half asleep, half dead, but he could recognize that voice anyway. Always demanding, aware of what to do, being right. You. Sweet, caring, loving you.

"Alright, soldier!" Karlach dropped her dripping wet backpack near the fire. Something bumped on his shoulders, and a cry left Gale's lips. "And you get better, mage. I'm counting on you for that!"

Her hand. It was her hand that almost made him collapse. But Gale didn't. That was when he noticed his eyes were closed, and someone was holding him.

Your hands gripping his waist as you tried to walk, your warmth reaching him. He could see a drop of sweat making its way on your neck. Blood staining you silver armor. You smell like... you. He can't describe it in any other way.

"You'll be fine," you whispered. As if you knew his head was about to explode. "We'll take care of you. Close your eyes."

You asked. Gale obeyed.

When he woke up, a black sea stained his vision. He breathed in and out, and understood it was the night sky. Gale stared at the moon, shining down on him, and for a second he though it was staring back.

Gale tried to pray. Would Selune embrace him? If he kneeled and promised his loyalty, would she protect his soul? Gale tried to pray, but no words made to his mind.

When he opened his eyes, you were there. Kneeled beside his bed, so close he could hear you breathing, but looking away. Bright eyes, reflecting the moon, looking down at something. Furrowed brows, lips tense, your shoulder stiff as you moved.

Gale heard the water before he saw the cloth you dipped into it. You agile hands folded it carefully, and placed it on his belly. It was hot. Almost too hot, but you were quick. You pressed it against his skin, and went back to dip it. The white cloth was now stained red.

Oh. You were cleaning him. His eyes noticed the bucket filled with redish fabrics. Gale wondered if cleaning him felt like rubbing wine stains into rugs. If by trying to make it right, you only made it worse. He wouldn't care if you made him worse, not as long as you keep on touching him.

When he reached for your cheeks, Gale didn't even thought about it. He just wanted to touch you, to make sure that you were real.

It startled you, a little gasp escaping your throat. You looked at Gale, analyzing every inch of his face.

For a time, Gale could only look at his hand against your skin. His thumb stroking your cheek, so soft beneath his touch.

"Why are..." that voice wasn't his. It wasn't anything like his. For how long did he slept? "Why are you here?"

You looked at the hand you placed on his waist, and realized how it must be to wake up with someone else touching you. "I was just cleani..."

"That's not what I asked," the mage stopped you. You went back to look at him, and Gale felt your gaze softening his entire being. "Why are you here?"

"I worry about you," you admited. "Specially when you forget what shields are made for."

"Why are you like this?" Gale found himself trying to make whatever was on his mind understandable. That doesn't happen very often. For him to be unsure about his words. "Why do you keep on taking care of me? You don't owe me anything."

"Because you are... you," you went back to cleaning his skin. Gale didn't move his hand, and you didn't seen to mind. "Close your eyes, go back to sleep. You won't even notice I'm here."

With his hand on your cheek, eyes staring at the moon, Gale hoped Selune was staring back.

He don't know what will happen to him after his death. Mystra didn't forgave him, so Gale isn't counting on her protection when his soul is to be judged. But one thing Gale knows: the moon was here before him, and will remain after.

So he prayed. Silently, he begged Selune to protect you. He begged for her to shine on you, the only one who ever made him feel worth something. One day he must die, sooner than later apparently, so he hopes she'll protect you when he's gone.

"Impossible," Gale stroked your jaw. "Utterly impossible."

Every single one of your companions love how sincerely you care for them, but they all see how it can be a problem too. How many times have they told you to not be so welcoming? It makes you you, but it's also the reason why you bleed so often.

How many times have you tried to help someone just to discover they didn't deserve it? How many times will it happens until you finally understand your lesson?

Fainting after a encounter with a ruthless dwarf, Shadowheart thinks it's the best moment to ask you to tone it down, only to be reminded about how you still befriended Astarion even after his introduction. If Wyll explains there is no way you can win this fight, that it isn't even yours, you point at Halsin and he can do nothing but to shut up. And whenever Astarion is a pain in the ass, you explain that mercy and kindness are what brought Karlach to the party.

They are scared for you. No one knows how much pain your heart can take before if finally stops healing. You're kind, and they want you to stay that way, but not if it diminishes your soul. There must be a limit for your hope, and they aren't interest on finding it.

Worried about you hurting yourself, they didn't noticed how that hurted Karlach too.

Few can say they escaped from hell, and even fewer would be stupid enough to not enjoy a second chance. Karlach knows she sounds too distracted at the worst times, too excited when there's nothing to celebrate, but how couldn't she? She won't waste her chance.

If only she could be touched. If she could hug her friends, be near those she loves without hurting them, hold without bruising. If only she could touch you without boiling your precious skin.

Don't matter how affectionate you are, there are thing you just can't do. You showed her only your best sides, so welcoming and caring. After a fight, you rush to check on her. Late at night, you tell stories about your life. When it's peaceful, you show her different ways to tie a know. But you can't touch her.

Karlach thinks you look warm. Not cold. Nothing like distance or indifference. And not hot. Nothing like the infernal machinery inside her chest. You seem peaceful. Calm, in a way that she might never fully comprehend.

You hold Lae'zel's hands to stop her from offending someone. And don't flinch when Astarion pulls you by your waist. It's been some weeks since started to teach Shadowheart how to swim. And Wyll tried to help you with your dance moves. Halsin's hand seem to be glued to your shoulder.

She envies them. Karlach envies everyone that you touch. She just feels so lonely, and she'd already spent too much time pretending not to be. Avernus is behind her, and the person she was there won't ever see daylight again. Karlach is free, and she'll be always true to herself.

Poking the flaming wood with a sticky, trying to make it spread to the others, she was to focused to noticed when you sat beside her by the log. Her mind was somewhere far, far away.

After a few moments, Karlach saw you. She kept herself quiet, just enjoying your presence. As if her silence would make you not want to leave. As if her silence would be enough so she could lay her head at your lap, feel your fingertips undoing the knots on her hair, without burning you in and out.

As she stared at the soon-to-be bonfire, you glared at the sky. You searched on your pockets, looking for a coin, but all you found was a forgotten jasper. It'll do the trick. "Jasper for your thoughts, Mama K?"

Karlach looked at you. "What, soldier?"

"You're quiet today," you said. "Too quiet. Let me help you. If you want to talk, I want to hear. If you want to kick some butts, my boots are ready. So, jasper for your thoughts?"

She opened her hands, and you dropped the crystal on it. Karlach played with it for a second, amused by your words. "I'm tired," she said. "Of not touching. Or being touched. I know I'm not alone but... sometimes I can't help but to feel like that. Even Mama K has her moments."

She has so much love to give. Just like you. If only she could give it as freely as you do. Karlach respects you for it. For trying to be better, don't matter how much it hurts you. Scars are signs of bravery, just as pieces of broken hearts.

You think it's worth the cost, and so does Karlach.

"One day," you breathed in. Looking at the fire, you saw why Karlach was so interest on it. Don't matter how much you learn, it still looks magic. "I will braid your hair. Massage your shoulders. Wash your back. Teach you archery, my chest against you back and my hand holding yours. Take the eyelash that fell on your cheeks. Straighten your necklace. I will let lips do what hands do."

You turned to her, with a beaming smile on your face and wet eyes. "But for now, can you wait? Can you dream for a few months more, until we find a solution? Because I swear, Karlach, I will find one. Don't matter if I'll need to walk throught the Nine Hells. I will find a cure for you."

"Damn, soldier," Karlach hissed. Maybe it was the light, but her eyes were redish. You did the noble thing and pretend to not have seen the tears. "You really are the sweetest hero around."

"So don't think you're alone anymore!" You suppressed the urge to punch her arm. Scratch brought you a red ball, and you caressed him. "I'm here. We all are."

And that's one thing they all will be forced to understand: they are not alone. Not anymore.

Part 3!

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

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#madwomansapologist #kind!druid!tav #tavrem #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 x reader #bg3 tav #gale #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale bg3 #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #karlach #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale of waterdeep x tav #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #oc: liliana wilde

[madwomansapologist]

i love everybody because i love you

Meet Kind!Druid!Tav | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: It doesn't matter what their first impressions of you were, they certainly did not expect you to be so important in their lifes. And as the days passes, each one of your companions need to understand a simple fact: they love you. They all love you.

warnings: a sequel to that (you don't need to read if you don't want to). song "strawberry blond". companions (lae'zel, halsin) x druid!tav. background cast (alfira, mirkon, scratch, owlbear, shadowheart, astarion, wyll, mizora, karlach, minthara). lae'zel love language is pressing a dagger against your throat. i accidentaly made her somewhat a stalker?? there is a high chance minthara doesn't sound like her because i killed her like two onversations in. if you discover which animated character is my biggest inspiration for this tav i will give you a reward.

In a harsh world, people are supossed to shield themselfs from even the possibility of danger. Is the only rational response to the ambiguity of chaos. What those who crave to survive must learn, what those who deserve to survive must do.

You get stronger, so you won't feel pain. Because to feel pain is to remind your soul that one day your body will perish. To get stronger is to forget about the eventual end. Is to get protected from death itself, even if as just a concept.

When not even death can catch you, you're free. When you have nothing to love, nothing to care about, you are free. That's real strength. To be invulnerable. To have nothing to lose, no one close enough to ever hurt you.

Lae'zel lost the count on how many times you bleed. How many times you fell. Burned, drowned, exhausted in pain. Arrows crossed your chest, swords cut your legs, calloused hands stopped you from breathing.

You're somewhat good at hiding it. How much things can hurt you. When someone disrespect one of your companions, when people blame you for their fates, when you did everything you could and it wasn't enough. It hurts you in a different, worst way. She can see it on your face.

Maybe you could've earned a good end, if the world worked in a different way. A peaceful life, one fit for those who don't aspire greatness. But Lae'zel knew it was only a matter of time until the tadpole took control. She felt it on herself. Saw it on you.

No one would save her, no one would save any of you, but perhaps Lae'zel could. It was an merciful act. To end you first. You failed as a leader, but you tried. Then she'll go to the others, knowing she's brave enough to kill herself after.

She thought you had surrendered yourself to her. That you had come to the same conclusion. A wise druid, after all. Then Lae'zel felt. The cold thread against the base of her neck. A dagger she didn't saw coming.

"Step back," you ordered, voice unaffected. Lae'zel never heard you like that before. She had a dagger against your throat, but you spoke as if you rule the entire world.

"Chk, you think that tiny blade of yours will stop me from free..."

"What I think doesn't matter, but what I know does." Your eyes burned her skin. "You're stronger, I'm faster. I propose you a bet. If you kill me, go on with your plan. If I kill you, that's it. I won't kill them. I won't kill myself. Even if I can, even if I must. You would've died for nothing, forever ignorant if it was the right thing to do."

Lae'zel saw you barefoot at the Emerald Grove, applauding Alfira as she sang. Crossing the river by jumping from stone to stone, talking to Mirkon as if he wasn't a kid but a dear friend. How many times did Lae'zel found a bed shaped of you on the grass right next to where Scratch and Owlbear slept?

A sacreed deer, whose even blood is ever so sweet, howled like an wolf.

Would you turn into a mindflayer out of... stubbornness? Would you let the rest of your beloved party turn into something utterly disgusting, putting in danger all those people you swore to protect, just to prove a point?

Maybe you would. Maybe you wouldn't.

No one died that night.

You intrigued Lae'zel. Before you were her supposedly defenseless prey, and now you are the object of her curiosity. Lae'zel didn't understand you. And she craved to.

So she kept a close eye on you.

You bleed. All the fucking time. You bleed, and you wept. But everytime someone crushed you down, you rose up. For every tear that fall from your eyes, you made sure to smile. You survive, and you keep on doing it.

Strength and weakness merged in the warrior's mind. She knew what strength is, she can smell weakness from afar. Lae'zel was taught everything she was supossed to know.

But you were never the one to fit in old impervious notions.

Lae'zel saw you end a hyena's suffering without flinching, and you trying to hold on the wind when you were about to fall. She heard you helping a bird decorate its nest, and the breaking of a skull of someone brave enough to maim Shadowheart when she was near you.

You yelled at Astarion as he tried to stop you from helping gnomes. Helped Wyll with herbs for his pain after Mizora's trick. Helped Gale with dinner, putting a smile to the usually frowed wizard's face. Gave Karlach her first hug in years.

She saw your every movement. Lae'zel heard you laughing, saw you dancing, watched as you helped your new friends. Sometimes it felt as if you made white lines so she could follow you. So Lae'zel could see you being good, nice, decent. Being you in a way that showed her that no, you would've never let your companions turn into mindflayers. You were bluffing, and she fell for it.

At some point, it started to ache. Anytime you laugh at some tiefling's story, something inside Lae'zel burned. At night, she could picture your smile on her eyelids. When you call her name during battle, yelling instructions that somewhat always end in victory. When you look at her.

She can still see that fire. That same flame that stopped her from killing you right then and there. But diluted, controlled. And still, just as able of burning her entire soul. You have a fire contained within your gaze, and Lae'zel doesn't mind getting burned.

Maybe you're not that weak. And maybe she's not that strong.

She's not watching you anymore. Observing your every move so she can understand your mind. Not a prey, not a walking question mark. Lae'zel is purelly admiring.

For some, you came as a tempest. Slowly, without announce your intentions, your way of being embraced them.

A few flinched, scared of what that meant about them. That by admitting you're good despite it all means they could be good too. Some welcomed it, scared of what that meant about the world. If you're good despite everything that happened, then others could be too. Others chose not to.

But you stroke Halsin as a thunderstorm, just as quickly and fiercly. In such a dark time, you were a lighthouse. A shining light that blind at first, but embraces and comforts.

The grove was in danger, his life could end at any given moment, a goblin camp separated him from the world he worked so hard to protect. But your party helped him, and it gave Halsin the right amount of hope.

You asked him to stay behind, and he did so. Halsin wouldn't be able to control himself, and you didn't need all that attention. He was hopeful, not an idiot. But when Halsin heard screams from the room beside... Knowing that Minthara was there, Halsin couldn't help himself.

A wizard focused on the goblins. As he held them in place, a cleric made sure to end them. But at the other side of the room, the only other druid he saw in weeks had a dagger deep on her chest.

Minthara had you on your knees, her nails digging on the skin of your chin. A burning tiefling didn't knew a way to react that wouldn't end within that same blade slicing your throat. She waited for an order, an instruction of any kind, and Minthara realized that you were leading the rebels.

"Is that your leader?" Minthara looked at the tiefling. Her eyes were numb, bored even, but her grin was sharp. She forced to blade deeper. "A weak druid, barely able of helding a sword? Are you that desperate?"

You should've cried. You should've beg for mercy. You should've do anything, instead of laughing. Minthara glared at you, sure that you were reduced to a crazy, desperate animal. But when you bit her hand, blood staining your chin, you were more of a beast.

Minthara stumbled, and you pulled the blade she left on your shoulder. Blood ran down your side, but that didn't stopped you from rising up. Halsin don't think anything would've.

"Maybe you're right," you hissed. With her dagger on your left hand, you took your sword from the ground. "I'm not a fighter. I wasn't educate to control the Weave. I can't heal a thing. When I can't do something, I find someone that can. Without their help, I would be dead by now."

Halsin came here to act. To help, protect, kill. But all he could do, just like everyone else in that room, was to watch you. To look at your beaming smile, to see the blood on your teath, not even trying not to get blind by it.

"Why would anyone follow someone that professes to be so weak?" She looked at the wizard, a dead goblin at his feet, her brain thinking of all the ways she could defeat your party. "What can you do that give you the right to rule them?"

Your smile seemed to grow wider. "I can beat the shit out of you."

And beat the shit out of Minthara you did.

With a first impression like that, ain't no mistery why Halsin couldn't do anything but to stay with your party. But to go on with you, deafeting the Shadowcurse and exploring Baldur's Gate. But to see you shine, feel your warmth, and let it pull a string on his heart.

At the end, it didn't matter how it started. It didn't matter how much they fought the thought back. If they lied to themselfs, made you a villain on their minds, welcomed you with open arms.

You have their hearts. Simply as it can be. You have their hearts.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR'S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #lae'zel #lae'zel bg3 #lae'zel x tav #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel of k'liir #halsin #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 #halsin x tav #halsin baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 x you #kind!druid!tav #oc: liliana wilde #tavrem

[madwomansapologist]

i have so many ideas for this polycule is not even funny

#like i just finished a three pieces story for how the companions fell in love #but i already know what will happen after act 3 #tavrem #oc: liliana wilde #kind!druid!tav #bg3 #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3

[madwomansapologist]

any tavrem and one piece ideas? kinda going through a write block, in need of help

#one piece #nami #tavrem #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[madwomansapologist]

- the weirdos!

★ gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions (sfw, fluff, comedy, found family new year's especial).

★ blossoming alone over you (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ my love mine all mine (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ i love everybody because i love you (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

★ bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationship).

★ bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationshop).

- shadowheart!

★ gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions (sfw, fluff, comedy, found family new year's especial).

★ blossoming alone over you (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ making every second count (sfw, sugestive, established relationship, valentine's day especial, kind!druid!tav).

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

★ shades of black and white (sfw, falling in love, meet cute?, true love, kind!druid!tav).

★ bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationship).

★ bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationshop).

- gale dekarios!

★ gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions (sfw, fluff, comedy, found family new year's especial).

★ my love mine all mine (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

★ bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationship).

★ gale's kinks/turn ons (nsfw, smut).

★ bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationshop).

- lae'zel!

★ gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions (sfw, fluff, comedy, found family new year's especial).

★ i love everybody because i love you (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

★ bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationship).

★ raising xan with lae'zel (sfw, fluff, motherhood, established relationship).

★ bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationshop).

- karlach!

★ gift exchange with baldur's gate 3 companions (sfw, fluff, comedy, found family new year's especial).

★ my love mine all mine (sfw, fluff, tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

★ bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationship).

★ so different, yet so similar (sfw, fluff, falling in love).

★ bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer tav (sfw, fluff, falling in love, established relationshop).

- zevlor!

★ forever in this twilight (sfw, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ so different, yet so similar (sfw, fluff, falling in love).

- rolan!

★ forever in this twilight (sfw, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, falling in love, kind!druid!tav).

★ so different, yet so similar (sfw, fluff, falling in love).

- orin the red!

★ doubt comes in (sfw, blood, violence, angst, hurt no comfort, happy ending, orin being orin).

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate #astarion #asterion x reader #bg3 #bg3 x reader #tav #bg3 tav #tavrem #lae'zel #lae'zel x reader #halsin #halsin x reader #shadowheart #shadowheart x reader #wyll ravengard #wyll x reader #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x reader #karlach #karlack x reader #kind!druid!tav #oc: liliana wilde

[twi-liight]

FUCK. Tavrem = Tav + Harem. Tell your friends. Tell your family. Spread the word 🫣

#should i put it in my pinned so people know what’s up #people gotta know the language so we can successfully turn this into a cult yknow #tavrem posting #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #shut up twi

[twi-liight]

Hi, love your story "petty jealousy". Was looking for gen fics because I was looking for withers fics. Can I ask what Tavrem means? Or F/N?

Hi, thank you 💕 Tavrem is just Tav + Harem, hence Tavrem. F/N stands for “first name”; you’d basically insert your first name or your character’s first name whenever you see the F/N in xreader fanfiction.

Also, Withers fics? Incredible. I don’t know if anyone in the fandom writes for Withers, but I hope you find what you’re looking for.

#should probably put a memo explaining wtf tavrem is but #whenever someone asks i feel like a knife cat #asks #shut up twi #tavrem posting

[twi-liight]

i’m glad everyone agrees that the tavrem is real 🤠 necessary, even.

#and theres more where that came from babey #im going to give the gays everything they want #shut up twi #tavrem posting

[twi-liight]

Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 

 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 

Yes. They all nod their heads. 

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 

Excellent. 

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 

“Karlach!” 

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 

“Gale?!” 

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gale x reader #gale x you #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x you #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x you #karlach x reader #karlach x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #poor nilmorn. just wanted to sell his lil instruments. dies because he smiles too prettily

[twi-liight]

Sooo. You just posted Petty Jealousy 20 mins ago and I just wanted to say that I loveeee itttt. Can we please have more? Like Astarion and the other companions subtly do somethings to the person they’re jealous of to turn them away from Tav.

Tav’s companions are just sooo cutee when they’re jealous. Wyll and perhaps, Halsin being the only sensible ones.

Thank you!

Red With Envy ❣

The YA love heptagon of the century: Tavrem. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Lae'zel/Tav, Companions/Tav. It's Gale/Astarion if you squint. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you! ❥ PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Astarion would never beseech himself to touch a member of the working class, but things change. People change. And here he is draping an arm around Gale’s shoulders to boldly declare his presence upon the rickety, wooden table. 

“Oh.” Blink blink. Gale gawks with round eyes, then not-so-discreetly glances away from Astarion’s heavy gaze to the only present company at the table: salted bread with thick slices of white cheese, anchovies, and sop for the bread. This sorry excuse of a presentation must be breakfast, which begs the question- Is Gale’s blood so blue that he cannot skip a meal or is he trying to make a favorable impression? 

Astarion would much prefer the former. It means he does not need to scrub his hands raw from the filth of peasants after this interaction.

“Uh, good morning, Astarion.” 

“Mm?” He flashes his fangs to grin. “A good morning indeed, my friend. How lovely the dawn breaks over the horizon, but with no one to share the scenery with! I pitied you, and out of the kindness of my heart, opted to join you.” 

Alright, enough touching. Astarion draws his arm back to poise a curled hand beneath his chin, glancing over Gale’s face in a vain attempt to study him. “Well-combed hair. Your posture,” he raises his hand to gesture at the wizard, “is much cleaner than yesterday. You’re practically glowing with morning dew, and…”

Here, he leans forward, just enough so that his nose lingers on the curve of Gale’s neck, just so his hot breath hits his skin as he murmurs, “You smell like Tav.” 

This greedy bastard slept in their tent last night because he caught some sickness from meandering about gaseous spores, and Tav cannot ignore the needy. Would that Gale be some beggar on the road and not an accomplished wizard with a higher emotional maturity than he.  

Astarion would be more comforted if he was a one night stand, a quick romp for the leader of their party to take the edge off. But anything beyond that is sabotage for his best-laid plans. 

Astarion’s smirk curls as deep, roiling darkness tug at his mind. He leans back slowly, never breaking eye contact. “They let you sleep in their tent. What a darling.” While they slept by the fire, ash and dirt swirling in their hair, Gale was embraced in Tav’s blankets and scarves. The lingering scent of something floral sticks on his skin, and Astarion recognizes it as the oleander Shadowheart presented Tav a fortnight ago. 

Gale smells something else: rusty and metallic, like the smell of a storm brewing. Has Astarion’s eyes deepened in color, like wine? His tongue feels heavy in his mouth all of a sudden. “Yes,” he agrees, thinking of Tav for some semblance of comfort. “I was sick, and they offered their tent for the night. More blankets, they said. Easier to be warm in - look, Astarion, do you have a problem with my friendship with Tav?” 

The laugh that pushes its way forcibly out of his sneering lips is sharp and mocking. Something burns in his chest, and it feels like seething anger. “My, that’s a strong word. I would say acquaintance is more befitting of your,” Astarion gestures to Gale once more, fighting back a scowl, “station. You’ve known Tav for barely a few months - they’re not quick to brand just anyone as a friend.” 

“Is that right?” Gale’s brown eyes spark with challenge. What a doll. Finally got his spine. “I ought to wonder how you befriended them, then. Anyone with half a mind knows your shenanigans are acts of desperation; you want them to like you so you can manipulate them. I know your type, Astarion.” 

“And you… You, what, you are not? You’re using Tav just as much as I am, darling. Otherwise, what are you here for? Companionship? Ha!” Astarion does not know why, but his entire being is alight. As if the sun’s rays are scorching him. He can barely contain his temper, barking out between sharp teeth, “Get a grip.” 

Gale is hardly fazed. “You’re delusional. Whatever threat you think I present to you?” He lifts his chin, eyes alight with power and rage. “Confront it. Dig your grave. Lie in it. While you’re busy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the opportune moment to dance them around your little games, guess where I will be?” 

Silent, seething anger. It burns. Astarion’s eyes are blown wide with rage as he gazes into Gale’s eyes, digging his nails into his palm as his fingers wrap around the hilt of his dagger. 

“There to catch them when they realize everything you’ve done is just an act.” Gale leans forward this time, a warning blazing in his brown eyes. “Think whatever you wish of me, Astarion, but never in your life think I would never fight for those I cherish.” 

Cherish. Astarion almost sinks his teeth in his throat to shut him up. “Good,” he purrs, fighting every urge not to massacre Gale where he sits with his dingy little breakfast. “I would be sorely disappointed if you succumbed too easily to me.” 

This would be so much easier if Astarion didn’t care about losing Gale, either. If he must concede, Astarion can admit to himself and the Devil alone that Gale is beyond useful in battle. Herald of the Weave, Mystra’s little boytoy? He would be endeared to watch Gale’s story end. Whether it be in smithereens or in the bosom of his former goddess, it will be fun to watch. 

Something in the back of his mind gnaws at his anxiety that Gale will be the one to turn Tav against him. This pretty little fool never wanted him in the party, wary of him, which is the smart thing to do. Tav was not. Tav was too easy to trust him. To easy to ply around his fingers until he had them even offer up their blood. 

He resents Gale for making space in their heart. It could have been his. 

“The dawn rises as I do: strong, and watching over two bread boys exchanging heated words like knives.” Lae’zel’s voice, sleek and smooth, startles them. Gale visibly jolts away from his proximity to Astarion’s face, brown eyes widening as Lae’zel approaches the table. She takes one gander at the spread, grabs a fistful of anchovies, and shoves it down her mouth without care. 

“You,” Gale stammers. “That was for–” 

“Silence. Githyanki must feed well to prepare for the new day. I will not hear your incoherent mumbling, wizard.” Lae’zel at least has the decency to chew with her mouth closed. She gulps the food, grips her fingers around Gale’s mug of watered down wine, and downs it with a tilt of her head. 

Astarion pouts. “We were having a moment, dearest Lae’zel. Now, I love to tease Gale as much as you, but it is my turn to press on Gale’s pretty little nerves until he explodes. He does not need to be,” he flares a hand out to Lae’zel, who is still downing the disgusting concoction with impressive concentration, “hounded.”

Gale looks confused. Astarion thinks that is not a state he often experiences. “Thank you?” 

And now he’s grateful? Astarion regrets his string of words in the last five seconds. They should go back to fighting.

Lae’zel slams the mug down on the table, perishing the rest of Astarion’s train of thought. She wipes the drink from her lips with her arm, thinks for a second, then nods, resilience plain in her expression. “I must warn you: distractions outside of our goal will be our end. I will not fail to cut either of you down if you produce disappointing results. However.”

There’s a ‘however’? Gale and Astarion exchange a glance, the animosity between them gone, replaced with more confusion. “I think you may be misunderstanding,” Gale begins. “Astarion and I-” 

“You two are lovers,” Lae’zel says with the confidence of a thousand burning suns. Astarion has never wished for that to be more true. He wants to be eviscerated where he sits right now because he cannot pick up his jaw from the ground. 

Gale looks like he just swallowed a rat. Like he is seconds away from throwing up. He needs a moment, experiencing vicious whiplash from wanting to kill Astarion to now, wanting to kill Lae’zel. “You— huh.”

“I support this companionship,” nods the githyanki sagely. 

“You are a bloody fool.” 

“No. I am efficient. Two of my enemies have been wiped off the playing field, which means there is less competition.” Hands on her hips, Lae’zel looks at the campgrounds proudly. “Make love to each other loudly.” She jerks her head over her shoulder, a sneer twisting her sharp features as she looks at them. “Try to drown out my name from Tav’s lips tonight, for I will be taking their hand and heart.” 

No fucking way. An oversight on his part. How could he have been so blind? Of course Tav is desired, not just by him or Gale, but by everyone else in the damn camp! This is much more troublesome than he realized. Fine, then. He should prioritize the rational thinkers like Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart and– oh, Karlach. Not darling Karlach. She would never turn Tav against him, would he? 

Fine. Halsin and Lae’zel can go first. 

“Momentary truce?” Gale offers. 

“You read my mind, handsome. Lae’zel, darling! Come back over here - we just want to talk.” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gale x reader #gale x you #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x you #shadowheart #halsin #wyll #karlach #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #badlur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you

[twi-liight]

ALRIGHT. FINE. ENVER GORTASH HAS ME BY THE BALLS. FINE FINE FINE FINE FINE. What should I say? Sorry? I'M SORRY. HE'S THE FOUNDING FATHER OF THE TAVREM, I WILL SHOW HIM THE RESPECT HE DOES NOT DESERVE.

#i have nothing to say for myself #bg3 #shut up twi

[twi-liight]

Bro, your Astarion characterization is so…….. 🦟🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗🦟🦗

Tavrem supremacy‼️‼️‼️‼️

Thank you so much 💕💝 !!! Astarion’s incredibly fun to write. I am very honoured I am doing this hot mess of a vampire some justice 🥹🙏

also yes Tavrem supremacy ✌️spread the word. Tell your friends.

#the mosquitoes lmao #asks #shut up twi