#Platonic shadowheart

[parvulous-writings]

Miasma // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Halsin's rescue of Thaniel goes drastically wrong. Gender Neutral reader (they/them pronouns where they had to be used)

Warnings: Angst, character death, no resolution/comfort. Depictions of grief, anger. Violence. Wonky pacing, maybe? Unresolved ending, also - sorry for the hurt in advance!

Words: 3.7K

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

"The magic is delicate." Halsin had warned - the words now rang in your mind like a knell. "I will need your help if I am to survive- the portal will sap my strength." You had vowed to aid him - to defend the portal that Silvanus had helped him to create. And you had tried. You'd thrown almost every spell that you knew into the shrouded, cursed dark that surrounded your party and the portal, done near everything you could think of to keep the danger at bay. But, somehow, it wasn't enough. Something had gotten through your defenses, though you could barely recall what exactly it was. An arrow? A crow, touched and warped by shadow? The more you dwelled upon the thought, the more your chest began to tighten. What did it matter, what it was that ruptured the portal and caused it's premature collapse? No matter the form of the assailant, it did nothing to change the chain of events that had since then transpired. A gentle voice breaks you from your spiralling thoughts; "At least he is with Lady Shar, if nothing else..." You feel your face contort into a scowl at Shadowheart's words - Halsin was not a worshipper of Shar, why would he be happy that he is with the lady of sorrow? If anything, you thought, it would enrage him that the one who's shadows had laid claim to him, was the one he would be 'with'. But you say nothing to Shadowheart, you know for a fact that the only things that would pass your lips would be words of venomous spite. Not that you didn't like Shadowheart - you were actually quite fond of her, she usually would say things how they were, without sugar-coating them. But in this instance, using the name of Lady Shar to try and bring you some false comfort only made you feel worse.

The trek back to camp was coated in a stony silence. The rest of the party were waiting for you to say something, some words of wisdom or hope, but you said nothing. You did not wish to speak. All you wanted to do was ignore the grief that had settled into your heart. To shove it down, and ignore it. But you couldn't. You and Halsin had become close after you and your rag-tag team of friends had saved the Emerald Grove from the goblins. He had given you advice on how to get to Moonrise Towers, and had offered his aid on the journey. Of course, you had said yes - initially because you knew you'd need all the help that you could get, but as time wore on, and you spent night after night talking with him, you couldn't deny the fact that it was starting to feel like something more was blooming between the pair of you - and Halsin refused to deny it either. Though nothing between you and the druid had been made official to the others, he had told you time and time again; 'When I have righted what has been wronged, and the Shadow curse lifted... Then, we can focus on one another, my heart.' You had thought about those words often - they had spurred you on when you had first entered the shadow cursed lands, knowing that this, this was the place where you could finally end Halsin's century of distress, and fretting.

And yet it had all gone wrong in an instant.

The silence had followed your group into camp, and settled itself amongst you all as if it were a friend, and not some unwanted and unwelcome state. Even Astarion had stopped his quipping and teasing upon seeing your dour expression. He had never seen you in such a state - not even when he had accidentally woken you when he had gone to feed on you one night, almost three months ago at this point. That night you had been mildly disgusted initially, but you were definitely willing to let him feed from you if it was going to help his prowess in battle. You had been optimistic, in truth, despite the dangers. That was something about you that was always apparent, and always had been. Though some of your travelling companions had thought you... Not all there, at first, you had managed to prove quite a few times that you were persistent enough to almost always pull through.

You had made a direct line for your tent, ignoring the attempts of Karlach to approach you, and hopefully comfort you a little bit. The fabric flaps drew together behind you as you retired to your one place of isolation. The tiefling was confused, and a mite hurt, at the fact that you had just completely blanked her. You had never done that before - the worst you had ever done was tell her to stay in camp for a while, and more often than not, you had good reason to do so. Her gaze fell upon Wyll and Shadowheart, two of the companions who had set off with you that morning, before she began to march over, determined to know who or what caused you to become so withdrawn. "What the hells happened out there?!" Karlach could hardly contain the irritation that bubbled in her chest, spilling into her voice. Wyll was the first to speak, his face a mask of self-reproach. "Halsin was trying to retrieve Thaniel - the spirit of these lands..." He began to explain, glancing briefly to Shadowheart, who's lips were fixed in a clear frown. "Right..." Karlach said slowly, "... I'm assuming something went wrong, by the look on everyone's faces..." "... We weren't able to defend the portal he had entered entirely... It collapsed, and... He's gone." Karlach's face fell as it all clicked into place in her mind. That's why you were acting so strange. "... Oh." Was all she could manage. She couldn't even muster up any rage at the circumstance, she was just stunned. She hadn't had a chance to get really close to Halsin, but he was a nice guy, there was no denying it. He had been courteous to all of them - a kind hearted soul, who always lent an ear to anyone who needed it. To Karlach, he had been a good laugh. Most evenings, on the short walk back to their tents, she and him would share a good few jokes with one another before retiring to rest. The loss of the druid would weigh heavily on her, though not as heavily as it would do you. Wyll cleared his throat, glancing towards your tent. "I think I may try and speak with them..." Shadowheart scoffed at this, causing Wyll's head to turn. "Good luck," Were the only words that the half-elf offered him, her voice dripping with sarcasm, before she turned away, marching herself right back to her tent to isolate herself for a while. Karlach followed suit, with nothing of meaning left to say. She meandered back to her own tent, seeking to settle herself down in the mountain of various pillows she had stored in there, to have a good cry.

Wyll did not return to his tent, however. Like he had said, he was going to try and talk with you. Try being the operative word. There had been a handful of times that you hadn't exactly been open to talking with anyone, and Wyll fully expected to be one of those times. He tried to peer through the tiny gap left between the flaps that marked the entrance to your tent, but to no avail. He cleared his throat quietly to announce his presence - but there was no answer from him. He carefully parted the fabric before him, crouching down a bit to get closer to you. Your tent was the smallest out of the whole group's, purely for the reason that, before the adventure began, you didn't have a lot to bring with you. Even now, with so much more to your name, you are more likely to leave some of your belongings with your fellow party members. "Go away." Your voice was low, not quite a threat, but close. "I don't want to talk to anyone, about anything. Leave me be." "You know," Wyll began to speak, completely ignoring your request, "I don't think Halsin would want you to spend any time moping after him..." You started to push yourself up into a seated position. Even in the dark, Wyll could imagine the look on your face; a deep set scowl, eyes narrowed and glaring daggers at the perpetrator who dared disturbed your 'peace'. In this case, of course, that was him. "You have no right to-" "Yes, I do." Wyll's voice was calm, despite your ire. "I'm your friend - one of your closest by your own admission, if I remember rightly..." He said as he crawled into the tent to join you - in the hopes of making you feel a little bit less alone. "I know you and Halsin were close..." Close wasn't exactly the word that the warlock had in mind, but he didn't want to rub salt in the wound. You had lost a man that you loved, and Wyll knew that grief wasn't an easy thing to deal with. "But, we did what we could - defended him and that portal as much as we were able to... He didn't ask for anything more..." "But he did - he asked us for his help to heal the-" "I know... But that was before we got overwhelmed by shadow-cursed harpers, and Gods know what else..." Wyll interrupted. "We did what we could, and he'd be happy with that... Even if we didn't manage to heal the curse..." His voice was tinged with a hint of sadness, despite trying to ease your pain. "He wouldn't want you to sit here, isolating yourself as punishment... But I understand you need time to mourn.. So, how about, tomorrow morning, you and I go for a walk around the outskirts of camp? We can talk all things Halsin.." You consider it for a moment, before nodding quietly. "Good.." Wyll smiled in response to your acceptance - there were times when you could be extraordinarily stubborn. He'd seen it himself at various points on your adventure together, and he was quite glad that he didn't have to be on the receiving end of it. "I'll bring your dinner to you, if you'd prefer not to join the rest of us..." You nod again, and Wyll begins to shuffle out of your tent, leaving you be for the evening.

You didn't join the others for food that evening - not that there was much to join. The group sat mostly in silence as they ate, all starting to feel the absence of their druidic friend. Lae'zel did try to make conversation, having found that her ideals didn't exactly align with Halsin's, she didn't get as close to him as some of the other had done in the same time. However, no one could find it in them to respond, besides Astarion, who snapped at her to stop talking for a moment. Even he was feeling down about the loss of Halsin - even if he had only grown 'fond' of the wood elf because he found him amusing. But the time night had fallen - or at least, what the group had all assumed to be night, as both night and day looked eerily the same under the shadowcurse - everyone had returned to their tents to rest.

The night - like so many before that you had all spent in the shadow-cursed lands - was cold, and very very quiet. The dead branches of various trees clashing against one another were the only sounds to be heard. No birdsong could be heard for miles. That was unless you counted the raspy sounds from the undead birds that sometimes came close to camp. They'd scurry away before they got too close, though. But there was something, off in the distance, that was slowly making it's way closer and closer to camp. Of course, no one was really aware of it until it was right on your doorstep. You had initially thought that the heavy footfall approaching your tent in the middle of your rest was Karlach - she'd often come over to you after a long, hard day. "Karlach," You spoke, your voice slightly muffled against the rough material of your makeshift pillow. "Now really isn't a good time.. Go back to your own tent." You expected to hear the footsteps retreating after this. Karlach was never one to try and encroach your personal space, especially after such a blunt request. However, this wasn't the case with this now unknown intruder. Something twigged in your mind that this might not be someone who meant well. Either that, or Karlach really wanted to have some company. You started to push yourself up onto your elbows, and when your eyes finally managed to focus on the figure slowly starting to crawl it's way into your tent, you could have sworn you heart stopped.

Halsin.

Immediately you were alert - were you still dreaming? No, you couldn't be, it didn't feel... Fuzzy enough, to be a dream. But it never feels like a dream when you're in the middle of it. You hurriedly push yourself into a more upright position, trying to kick the raggedy blankets off of your legs for more freedom of movement. "Halsin-" Your voice caught in your throat, leaving it as little more than a mousey squeak. Your chest felt tight, heavy. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of hope - he was alive! But as your eyes began to focus on the massive form of your once lover, you began to notice that some things were amiss. There were clusters and clumps of some dark mass, something not quite natural. Some of the clumps glowed and flickered with an eerie and dim bluish light, casting a foreboding shadow over your beloved's stoic - and entirely too-still - features. You recognised those growths - the telltale calling card of the shadows when they had wrenched their claws so deep into a living thing that nothing but a husk remained. You had seen it earlier that day; the hundreds of undead harpers, githyanki, dogs and birds that had assaulted you, your party, and the portal that had undone everything for you. The last stage before the host of the growths was devoured, and became nothing more than a shadow doomed to roam the desolated town, caught entirely in their own pain and grief. Though, the thought of that final form was pushed to the very back of your mind just at the moment it had popped in. Surely, though, if Halsin had managed to find your camp, there must be something of him left in there? As soon as the thought crosses your mind, you've moved to rest on your knees, bringing your face closer to his. "Halsin, you're alright..." There's something screaming at you in the back of your mind, telling you that this isn't right, that something is dreadfully, dreadfully wrong, but you elect to ignore it. For once, you just wanted to try and focus on the positive side. "You..." You couldn't quite place what it was about Halsin's voice that felt off to you - was it too deep? Too scratchy? Who cares, he's here, he's home. You didn't have to bear with that godsawful weight in your chest anymore, you could just move on, and think of this whole affair as nothing more than a blip on your adventure. You open your mouth to speak, but Halsin beats you to it. "Failed." His voice was so low it almost sounded like the chords in his throat were rupturing as the words left his lips - or perhaps they already had. It hits you like a stone to the head, and you freeze in place, paralysed by the realisation you should have had much earlier. This was not a dream, and Halsin was in front of you, but, he had been corrupted. Whatever drive he had to get back to you - whether it had originally been love, lust or something else - had now been twisted into something sick, something that longed to make you suffer as it was.

Before you could even open your mouth to respond, a thick hand was wrapping around your throat - squeezing, constricting, cutting off your air and your ability to cry out for help. Your hands dart to his wrist to try and alleviate some of the pressure, but you know that there's almost no point. With Halsin's great size, came great strength - you wouldn't be able to easily escape from this, he had the upper hand. You try anyway, clawing at his hand and forearm like a wild animal, trying to break skin and hurt him enough to have him flinch away from you. But that moment never comes. In fact, you could swear that he's applying more pressure to your throat. "Don't. Struggle." The grating voice of Halsin growls at you. You try to tell yourself that it's not him, but of course... the face looming above you would convince yourself otherwise. With the corners of your vision starting to blur and fade, you grow desperate. You begin to thrash and kick at him - and you manage to land a few good blows to the undead elf's ribs and stomach, not that it made much difference to the beast of a druid. You think at one point one of your feet dislodges a pole keeping your tent upright. At least, that seems to be the reasonable explanation for the structure collapsing on the both of you, obscuring your view even more. Your kicks start to weaken as Halsin applies even more pressure to your windpipe, obviously intent on robbing you entirely of your ability to breathe. You stop moving - in part to try and conserve what little oxygen you have left, but also because... What's the point in struggling against Halsin? Not only was he much stronger than you, but he was also... Right. You had failed him, despite the fact that you had tried your damndest to complete the task he had set you. Though it broke your hear to admit it to yourself, there was little you could do to deny it, even with the discussion you had had with Wyll earlier that night.

You had just about given in to the inevitable fate set before you, when the weight pressing down on your neck was just... Gone. You immediately sat up, spluttering as air finally reached your lungs, making you feel light-headed, but promising your survival. "Get the fuck away from them!" Karlach's roar was unmistakable as your scurried to pull the fabric of your tent off of your head to see what was going on; Karlach, greatsword in hand, was moving to swing at the corrupted Halsin - whilst Lae'zel, a determined look on her face, was mere moments away from doing the same, marching over from her own tent to join the fray. Gale was by your side in an instant, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet. "Come, quickly," He ushered you over to his tent as he spoke. "Inside, Shadowheart will check you over in a moment," His gaze turned back to Karlach, Lae'zel and Halsin for a moment, watching as the Tiefling and Githyanki lay blow after blow into the flesh of the thing that had tried to kill you. They were only just able to keep him on his knees, and it looked like his skin was shredding where he had been hit. His only sounds acknowledging that he was being attacked were grunts of effort as he tried to through off their hits and get back to his feet - which did not work. He wasn't even bleeding; a greenish-blue liquid dripped languidly from his newly-formed wounds.

"Stop looking, you don't need to see this." Gale told you firmly, taking your shoulder and guiding you more forcibly into the tent. "That's not him, anymore... You know that, yes?" He tries to soothe you. "That wasn't Halsin - just an... Echo of him, if that." Despite his kind words, tears begin to streak down your cheeks. You feel Gale's arms wrap around you, and your legs give out for a moment. You can't do this. It's too much. How is one person meant to handle all of this - the mindflayer tadpoles, the fate and wellbeing of their companions, helping as many people as they can on the way through the environs they must travel - and still walk tall? It is too much of a weight, a burden you can no longer carry. This overwhelming grief is just the straw that breaks the Rothe's back. You don't remember much of what happens after that - besides the sobs that start to wrack your body, making you heave with each breath. Gale lowers you to the floor, and you can vaguely hear him saying something to you, though you can't quite make out the words. You don't try to figure out what they are, though. You just want this to stop - for the emotions that feel too big for your body to just cease, and leave you in peace.

Your companions come and go throughout the night, each taking a turn to sit with you, to try and soothe your sorrows. Nothing really works. After many hours - though it feels like days to you - the tears finally stop falling. You're exhausted, and can't bring yourself to move off of Gale's bedroll; and no one dares to try anyway. It's Wyll who's with you as you finally drift off into an exhausted sleep. He doesn't move to tell the others, though, in case you should wake and need his company. A frown is etched into his features as he watches you - he knows all too well how much this grief can tear someone apart from the inside. He makes sure that you've got a blanket over your shoulders to keep you warm. "Don't you worry... You'll still have us," He whispers, not even caring if you can't hear him. "No matter what, we'll stick by you... And we'll get you through this. For Halsin's sake, not just for yours..."

The druid would have wanted that much for his lover, at least.

[albaharu]

after a life of dwarves on top of barrels to kiss your lover in dragon age im so happy they animate everyone kneeling to hug and kiss the dwarf...

[jeeaark]

Guess. Guess who found out those weren't actually PJs the dream guardian was wearing after. after drawing the uh. other comic? with the uh.

PJ gift sillies?

[space-blue]

Astarion Friendship

So in this post, I mentioned how sweet the friendship option felt with Astarion.. And I decided to expend that with a more accurate RP of Tav being a (loving) asshole.

Close up on the gossip girls:

[wavebiders]

The thing that really gets me about Wyll and Karlach is just how their bond is allowed to have the importance in their narratives that it has

I mean, in games like these the cast is always going to be centered around the pc. Sure, the relationships between other companions can be developed through party banter, commentary, or even cinematics, but at the end of the day everyone's most significant relationship is always going to be the player. That's the person who most affects them and where their story is going

With these two, it's not even that Tav isn't vitally important to them both, but it's meeting Karlach that changes Wyll's life one way or another. It's Wyll that's the first person to stick out his neck for Karlach, and sends her reeling. Their bond alone is enough to convince Karlach to go to Avernus and stay alive

It's a very bold choice to risk limiting the player's importance in order to drive home the connection between two characters, and I really appreciate Larian for going there

[y-rhywbeth2]

The idea of Bhaal betting on Durge eventually breaking down (from religious indoctrination, trauma bond, loss of purpose/ambition, whatever) and then they'll be ready to become his pawn again just to get some semblance of that back (and then he can punish them for their rebellion and failure).

But then Bane canonically taking an interest in the protagonist, whether they chose to control the brain or not, and also apparently having had an interest in Durge's ambition/cruelty pre-amnesia and calling dibs...

This could go hilariously.

Bane: “So you want ambition, power, dark purpose, and an unhealthy attachment to terrible authority figures do you?”

Bhaal: "You can't call dibs on my ex-Chosen, Bane!"

Bane, who never responds well to being told what to do: “Dibs.” :)

[fluffomatic]

All it took was one person asking, and I had my excuse!! I've been playing Baldur's Gate for the last couple of days, and I just NEEDED to wreck the poor elf! I'm still fairly early into the game, but I do know he's been through some shit (also, please, no spoilers! I'm only a bit into Act 1).

Now, of course, all the companions and my Tav would wreck their silly vampire friend~ Well, except for Lae'zel, but she'll definitely hold him still for the others lmao. Expect some more Astarion in the future!

(My art don't repost but please reblog)

Thanks @raven-celest-michaelis

[xalygatorx]

one of my favorite bg3 things will always be when you give shadowheart a night orchid and she first (1) dupes you into thinking it's poisonous and then (2) fucking hits you with the finger-guns

gif edit credit: @marogarreh

[shizucheese]

So you know how there are some people who like to attack/ vilify those who don't like Lae'zel and they try to paint it as a sexism thing or claim it's "because she's not conventionally attractive" or w/e and then bring up Astarion and Shadowheart "because they're racist too" in the same breath? I think I had a bit of an epiphany on this that needs to be shared. Putting content warnings here as well as in the tags just to make sure we're thoroughly covered: references to trama, physical and verbal abuse, SA, toxic family dynamics, religious trauma, and religious zealotry ahead. Also note that this doesn't just apply to people whose favorite character is Astarion and/ or Shadowheart, I'm just focusing on them since they're the ones people complaining about people not liking Lae'zel always bring up.

Okay, now with all that out of the way... I think the people who complain about people not liking Lae'zel but liking Astarion and Shadowheart and fixating on the whole "but they're racist too" argument miss some pretty major points regarding why a lot of people like Astarion and Shadowheart and how the way Lae'zel treats you in Act 1 is a major factor. A lot of people like Astarion and Shadowheart because on some level, they relate to them. Maybe they came from a household where one or more adult was abusive (physically or verbally), narcissistic, overbearing and/ or controlling. Or maybe it was a friend or romantic partner, or more than one, who used them and abused them and treated them like dirt. Or maybe they're an SA survivor. Or maybe they have religious trauma, and maybe that religious trauma is exacerbated by the fact that they have people in their lives who refuse to change their views, or even double down on them, even when shown evidence that contradicts their beliefs. Or maybe it's some combination of these.

Even the reasons why Astarion doesn't like the Gur and Shadowheart doesn't like Githyanki is steeped in trauma: it was a group of Gur beating Astarion nearly to death that lead to him being tricked by Cazador into becoming his spawn (and if he hadn't been turned into a vampire, he would have died), and Shadowheart makes multiple references to the fact that she saw githaynki cut down her comrades during her mission with some serious brutality.

A lot of these people who identify with Astarion and Shadowheart because of their own past traumas have promised themselves that they're never going to let anyone teat them that way, speak to them that way, try to control them, act like they own them, etc. etc. ever again. I know that's what happened to me. Now let's look at how Lae'zel treats you in Act 1, shall we? She's verbally abusive. When you try to talk to her, she simply replies to you with "Speak" as if you're some kind of dog. When she first propositions you for sex, she's still at her most abusive towards you, but because you fight good, she wants to lick your skin, taste your sweat, and "take what's hers." Even once the entire party knows--because we literally all see it in action with our own eyeballs--that the only thing preventing us from becoming either brain washed slaves to the Absolute or just straight up becoming mind flayers is the Astral Prism, she still keeps trying to take it and return it to the githyanki, even going so far as to try and kill Shadowheart for it. Even when her loyalty to her culture nearly gets her killed in the Zaithisk, and you tell her the true nature of it, she refuses to accept the reality and tries to blame the doctor, who she accuses of being a traitor, rather than accept that no, actually, it was working exactly as intended. It takes Voss showing up at our camp after everything else that had happened, and telling her the truth about Orpheus--something we had already been told about and found books covering before that point--to get her to even consider the fact that um actually maybe Vlaakith is evil (something that coming face to face with her and her nearly killing us didn't even convince her of).

All of these things I've described about Lae'zel in Act 1 are things that can be incredibly triggering to someone who has experienced any of the traumatic experiences I described above that has resulted in people identifying with and latching onto Astarion and Shadowheart. And like....does Lae'zel get better in Acts 2 and 3? Sure. But by that point, the damage has been done. And like in real life, Lae'zel isn't owed anything just because by Act 2 she's clearing the bear minimum of not being straight up abusive to your character. People aren't required to stop ranking her as their least favorite character, or straight up not liking her, after the way she treats you for the first third of the game. Especially not when that "first third" can easily be the part of the game you spend the most time in, with you spending dozens of hours in that part of the game, which also means they're spending the most time with Lae'zel before her character improves at all. Like I'm not saying that the ven diagram between "people who relate to Astarion and Shadowheart because of trauma" and "people who don't like Lae'zel" is a perfect circle, but the overlap is probably a way rounder oval shape than people who are too busy insisting that if she were a handsome man she would totally be popular appreciate. Before I wrap this up, I want to touch on that last part because I think it's important to address. I've seen people make that claim, but would Lae'zel really be more popular if she were a guy? I haven't seen a single person who makes this claim say they would like Lae'zel more if she were a guy. What I have seen is multiple people say in response that they would actually like her less if she had been a guy, which is honestly also how I feel.

Maybe this is something worth exploring in a separate post someday, but I would actually argue that the only reason Lae'zel works as a party member at all is because she's a woman. Flip her gender and she becomes an abusive man who treats you like you're beneath him and who says he wants to taste your skin and your sweat and claim ownership of your body as the first "nice" thing he ever says to you. As a woman who already has to deal with the general sexism of our society (including lawmakers trying to take ownership of our bodies and make medical decisions for us instead of leaving it between us and our doctors), especially a woman with multiple male-dominated hobbies, that's something I would find incredibly triggering--(even more so than I already found Lae'zel's sex proposition, which already made me super uncomfortable and had me thinking "wow imagine if a guy said this"). That's not "edgy and mysterious;" a man who treats you poorly but still thinks he's entitled to you/ your body, would be the poster boy for toxic masculinity, and I can promise you that more people would have taken issue with a character like that than they do with Lae'zel as she is.

Especially people with trauma like what I described at the beginning of this..

[darkgifted]

obsessed with the fact that in most rpgs, the "good" companion endings usually involve you helping them get what they want

whereas in bg3 the good ending for characters usually means steering them away from what they want, because it isn't actually good for them, even at the cost of them never feeling the warmth of the sun again

[optiwashere]

Hello, I love your work!! 🥹

If you’re still taking prompts: E3 for Shadowheart/Isobel. May or may not be romantically inclined (but if throuples are your thing please sprinkle some Aylin in there too)

Heya, that's so sweet of you to say! I took a bit of a break from writing these ficlets, but there's only two left in my inbox so I figured why not finish these out (I'm not taking any more at the moment!)

Thanks for asking for this one 💜

---

E3. A clash over differences in deities

The discovery of a shrine underneath the Last Light Inn wasn't quite a surprise to Isobel, she knew there was something about the place that had an almost tranquil enchantment threaded into it. When she was within the inn, she could weave her magic with a more precise touch than even she expected.

Learning of the shrine wasn't a surprise. No, the surprise was who she found there the evening after the fall of Moonrise.

The unexpected attendant did not sit in prayer. She didn't kneel, she didn't look in wonder at the meager offerings to the Lady of Silver. Shadowheart stood in front of the forgotten holy site, and she stared as if she were inspecting dirt underneath her fingernails.

There was another look in Shadowheart's eyes that Isobel couldn't quite place. She didn't know Shadowheart, but the spiteful invective she spewed towards Isobel and Selûne were lost in that hollow stare.

Isobel's footing slid as she tried to approach, sending a tumble of rocks out in a loud clatter that alerted Shadowheart to her presence.

"I knew that Selûnites were unsubtle," Shadowheart said just loud enough for Isobel to hear, "but I didn't expect them to be so noisy."

Not quite eager to approach yet, unsure where Shadowheart's mind lay after a single night had done so much to uproot what she thought she knew, Isobel remained on the edge of the wooden platform. "As subtle as a Sharran praying at a Selûnite shrine?"

"I am not praying."

"If you insist. Though, I must ask — why are you here of all places?"

"My... the Dark Lady demands silent reflection when faced with moments of uncertainty." Shadowheart sighed, never once taking her eyes from the mostly worn-away visage of Selûne. "I was always told the Moonwitch didn't care for disobedience, and that she let every disciple seek out their own penance when faith is uncertain."

"I doubt you Sharrans worded it so politely," said Isobel.

Shadowheart turned away at last to glare at her. The mask was flimsily constructed, and Isobel saw the frightened girl underneath immediately.

"Is it true?" asked Shadowheart, ignoring Isobel's remark.

"Is what true?"

"That Selûnites are given that freedom? They aren't punished, tortured for a lapse in faith?"

Isobel nodded. "The Lady of Silver only cares that we search for the path, not necessarily how we find it. There's a reason you've not lost your magic. It's fitting."

"It's a fitting way to find a knife in your back wielded by a Sharran that claims her goddess has betrayed her, isn't it?"

Isobel waited a moment. She let what Shadowheart said hang in the air, though not to consider it. They were empty, pointless words. The dying gasps of whatever rotten darkness Shadowheart believed to be her former Lady's trust, love, and affections. Someday, she might even realize just how little of her sharp tongue was in those words. Isobel wasn't certain it would be soon.

As they stood in silence, Shadowheart turned back to Selûne's statue.

A Sharran doesn't stare enraptured, curious, expectant like this, Isobel realized.

"I think I'd like to be left alone now. To be with my thoughts," Shadowheart said simply in a resolute, quite voice.

And so, Isobel left her to face a struggle that she needn't face alone. Isobel knew that to dig in her heels then would only draw out a bitter response from Shadowheart.

Later that night in sweat-coated sheets on a too-small bed, after Isobel and Aylin both needed a moment's respite, Isobel turned to her angel she thought she'd lost. They breathed and sighed and drank in one another and became lost in the sight of the other's contented face.

And still, Isobel could not help but think of the lost look in Shadowheart's eyes. She wanted to be lost in Aylin's, but the thought of that poor woman sitting alone in the dark kept nagging at her. A sharp ankle-biter for the Dark Lady turned to wonder and worry without another soul to help her.

"You are thinking of the once-Sharran?" Aylin whispered, propping herself up on her elbow.

"I—"

"It is all right, I sense her sorrows. She is lost. She requires a light in the darkness, and I dare say she refuses to allow Selûne into her heart just yet." Aylin stood and began dressing herself. "It is our duty to guide her."

And when Isobel saw the determined look etched across Aylin's face, she knew that there would be no denying her. Once set on a path of action, none could stand in the way of Dame Aylin and her quarry.

[parvulous-writings]

can i request karlach, jaheira and shadowheart x dhampir bard gn reader headcanons? maybe also platonic headcanons for astarion.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore/flesh, descriptions of eating blood/gore/flesh

Notes:  So I didn't want to go entirely with like, typical dhampir straight off the bat, so I rolled a d8 to see what reader would hunger for! The reader thirsts more for flesh/raw meat than blood, but can be sated with either! I was SO stoked to write this! Sorry if I focus more on the Dhampir side of things, I just... LOVE the idea <3 They might be a bit uneven! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Karlach

Initially, Karlach didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary with you. Sure, you had a... slightly offputting aura to you, but who in your little rag-tag team didn't? You seemed so funny to Karlach - your dark humour complimented her own very well, and she loved that about you. The fact that you were a bard made it all the better; when you weren't regaling the group with various tales, Karlach was making suggestions for insults you could use against opponents. You also taught her an insult or two, mostly because her delivery is always amusing to you.

She knew that you had a few... better than average abilities, but you often dismissed them if anyone tried to bring them up; your speed, your strength - and especially your rather uncanny ability to charm almost anyone to your cause. It's a very helpful skill for you to have, and since you don't want to talk about it, Karlach leaves the topic be.

As you spent more time on the road together, and grew closer, Karlach began to notice a few things about you. Your songs would often dwell on the gore of a tale, and even add it in - like it was something that you couldn't take your mind off of. She brushed it off though - bards always seemed to have something that they would focus on in their songs, perhaps the violence was just your thing, rather than the victory or the romance that other bards tried to emphasise. Even if you weren't the typical lovey-dovey bard that she was used to, she was definitely not complaining when you serenaded her in the evening.

That was her perfect evening - quality time with her lover, snuggled together in her tent, with you quietly playing and singing to her. Even if your songs can be a bit morbid, she loves hearing the sound of your voice.

She also noticed that you didn't often eat with her and the rest of the group - in fact, it was more like you never did. She didn't understand why, though - you always seemed so eager to eat. It was like your appetite was never really satisfied. It took her having to stalk you out into the woods one evening to discover your rather... Unsavoury appetite. The shock she felt at first made her freeze; how would someone rationally react to the sight of someone they loved eating flesh? How would someone react at all, let alone rationally?

Karlach ended up just standing there, unable to take her eyes off of you as your teeth tore into the meat in your hands. Things were starting to make sense to her - your songs focusing on gore was like the mind of a hungry person focusing on food. You were halfway through your meal when you saw the barbarian standing there, and you couldn't help but freeze too - your hunger, or rather the sating of it, was one of the only things that you had actively tried to hide.

"You'd seen us with Astarion - why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?" You thought Astarion's affliction was... Rather simple, in comparison to your own. A vampire, people knew about - a mortal, turned undead by another vampire, fed by blood. When you thought about that, you felt... Worse - your hunger couldn't be sated by blood alone. You had to have flesh as well, you craved it.

And, furthermore, your origins weren't exactly conventional; perhaps for Dhampirs, yes, but in general, not really. Having one vampire parent wasn't brilliant when talking to, well, anyone.

Thankfully, Karlach just about takes it in stride - though she doesn't appreciate secrecy between the two of you, she can kind of understand why you'd wanted to keep it that was for a while; no more secrets though. Lovers don't keep secrets, in her book.

Jaheira

Jaheira's wisdom had immediately set off quiet alarms about you after knowing you for a little while; seeing how you act around people, your constant noticeable hunger, the lot. She never brought it up, however. When your back is against the wall, you need as many allies as you can get, and you were certainly a favourable one, despite your oddities.

She had further inklings when you decided to entertain those taking shelter at Last Light. Your playing was divine - but that wasn't what irked her. What is was, was the more prominent canines that she could quite clearly see when you sang. She tried to blame it on the wine, but deep down she knew it wasn't so. She just didn't want to think that one of her currently most trusted allies was undead. Another reason she pushed it aside for the time being was because she knew it would be foolish to push away what seemed to be her best hope of getting out of the Shadow Curse alive. It was more than foolish, it was downright stupid - in times such as this, you must take every little blessing that you can.

It was during the battle at Moonrise that her suspicions started to be proven correctly. Your speed was unmatched by all but your pale elf companion, your blows hit just as hard as your barbarian friend. Not just that, but she had seen you bite one of your foes whilst in a frenzy of hits.

During the night-long celebration that followed the battle and all it entailed, Jaheira decided to confront you. You had stalked off to some mildly secluded area, just out of sight of the campfire, and Jaheira pursued. There she found a sight, that despite her suspicions, she had not expected. What she had expected was the amount of blood that had managed to smear itself round your face; what hadn't crossed her mind was the sheer amount of flesh that accompanied it. The way you tore into it, fangs first, was near feral - it was certainly a gruesome sight, and the druid was at least glad it was her who had found you, and not anyone else.

"I understand the necessity to hide such a secret from the masses, however, you're not exactly subtle with, well, any of it." Her words were not meant to chastise, but more to guide - she actually wanted to help you a little bit. You were valuable to her - both as an ally and a companion, and she would do near anything to help you. The world was unkind to many beings, dhampirs of course being one of them. She knew she couldn't shield you from all of the adversity you may face, but she could try and help you.

And so she does - or she tries her best, as you all head to Baldur's Gate. She doesn't exactly approve of your tastes now that you've entered the city, but understands that sometimes, needs must. She encourages you to resist if you can, and only take those who truly deserve death if you need to feed.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart didn't think there was too much out of the ordinary with you at first. To her, you were... Just a bard. A bard who mainly sang about violence, battles, and gore. Though, every bard has their gimmick, so she didn't think much more about it. She supposed it was a nice break from the norm of love and ancient legends.

Despite being fairly learned in things that lurk in the night, it took Shadowheart a while to figure out that you were a dhampir - though, she blamed part of that on her memory suppression. But, when she did finally figure it out, she wasn't entirely surprised. The fact that there was also a Vampire and a Warlock in the party... There was little left that would surprise the Sharran.

"I suppose I should have seen it coming... Your ballads about the innards of your foes, your sneaking off during supper... Not to mention your preternatural speed and strength, and those sharp canines of yours... All the signs were there, even if somewhat contradicted by the fact that you're alive. A pity I couldn't see it sooner. Then again... I suppose having two supernatural allies is better than having one, hm? That being said... No more secrets. I can't trust you if you hide things from me."

Despite your... Condition, she's actually very comfortable around you. She was quite perturbed when she caught you mid-feed- "I thought Dhampirs only fed on blood?!" You had to try and explain that in fact, there were many kinds of dhampirs - some had sanguine hunger, similar to their undead counterparts, others like yourself fed on the flesh of a victim, but there were even those who fed on more abstract energy, such as dreams. It was quite a shock to Shadowheart, but she kept her questions to a minimum.

As your journey continues, she asks you to sing to her more and more - often requesting to hear about your favourite things; your home, where your favourite haunt was before the mindflayers, but often, she likes to hear of your finest kills, and the feast that ensues after. She'll often jokingly muse, "Do you ever wonder what my flesh would taste like?" "Sometimes... Though I try not to dwell on the thought for too long... I think you'd taste sweet - aromatic, even... A true, refined delicacy."

She'd laugh quietly, and then ask you to sing to her again as she leans against you. The longer you spend journeying together, the more she comes to trust you. She finds it easier and easier to open up to you, knowing that despite your neverending hunger, you would never turn your fangs towards her... Unless she asked, of course. She likens your struggle to resist to her struggle with her faith to Shar; it's a long, inner struggle that often, you cannot speak to anyone about.

When you get to the city, she does make jokes akin to "I'm sure no one would miss him... Do you think he'd taste good enough?" And wouldn't say no to the idea of you potentially eating members of her cloister, now that they are somewhat after her.

Astarion (platonic)

This man nearly outs you on more than one occasion. He says each time that is it "Merely an accident, a slip of the tongue, if you will... It won't happen again..." But, I can guarantee, it will. It's a near daily occurrence.

This is because that, being a vampire himself, Astarion knows what to look for, when it comes to being around someone like himself. Sure, you don't have the trademark paleness that a vampire often possesses, but you have nearly every other feature. After one full day of travelling with you, observing your behavior, seeing your prowess in battle, and hearing your ballads of blood, guts and gore... He knows. He saunters right up to you, and says it nearly loud enough for the whole camp to hear. You clasp your hand over his mouth, begging him to stay quiet. The last thing you need is to be ousted to your party, when you have no idea how to react.

To begin, Astarion tries to give you tips on how to hide your true nature. After a while of staring at your frankly disinterested face, he realises that there's no point. So, instead you start to discuss the... Finer points of your diets - what tastes good, what doesn't; it's a brilliant bonding point for the pair of you. It's what a lot of your friendship is built upon, and you can't complain about it - it's nice to finally have someone who can understand the insatiable hunger, the need to hide, all of it... Even if he does constantly criticise your ballads for being "inaccurate" when it comes to the descriptions of the blood and the gore. He truly can be a stickler for being right, sometimes. You eventually learn to ignore him, though.

[pickel182]

Camp cuddle pile

Summary: Tav, Shadowheart, and Wyll have always had best friend snuggles by the fire before dinner time. Astarion is a teensy bit jealous, and wants to know what all the fuss is about.

**********************

“Only if you want to”, Tav reassured, giving him an out.

Well, he wasn’t just going to sit there like an egg while someone else hogged his darling’s warmth.

He stood there a moment, hands on hips, contemplating before coming to his decision. “Here, budge up,” he said, and was answered with a unanimous cheer. Astarion settled behind his lover as she made room for him under the blanket.

The cleric jumped at the temperature changed as she came into contact with the arm he’d draped over tav, and he barked a laugh at her reaction. Curiously, though, she didn’t jerk away.

“Gods below, Tav! Is he always so cold?!”

“He warms up eventually, but I don’t mind,” Tav answered, as she laced her fingers with his. “It’s like always having the cool, new side of the pillow to hold.”

“That sounds lovely,” Wyll replied. Would you trade with Tav, Astarion? Shadow is trying to be kind and won’t admit she’s starting to sweat.” Shadowheart glared and the warlock laughed. “I run a bit hotter these days, since Mizora’s visit.”

Sure enough, the half-elf was looking a little flushed. He knew she had no carnal intentions, and the thought of being warm on both sides did sound quite nice. Astarion carefully climbed over Tav, stopping only to plant a quick kiss to her temple.

“Gross,” Shadowheart deadpanned.

“The feeling is mutual, dear,” Astarion quipped in return, unable to resist returning the cleric's smirk.

She pressed her cheek to his chest and her sigh of relief made them all laugh.

Tav peeked over his shoulder as she wound her arms around his middle. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

“It pains me to admit it, but yes,” Shadowheart conceded.

Wyll gestured to the arm now cautiously draped over Shadowheart’s shoulder. “May I?”

Astarion wasn’t used to being asked permission. Not until Tav. He rather liked it, so he nodded his consent.

Wyll laid a hand over Astarion’s and sighed as well.

Perhaps there was something to be said about cuddle piles, or at least this one. It was delightfully warm under the blanket, and Tav’s embrace made him feel comfortable and secure. He was more used to the opposite reaction to the chill of his touch, so this was all incredibly novel.

Shadowheart made an annoyed sound.

“What now?!” Astarion asked as he rolled his eyes.

Her answering tone was almost accusatory. “You smell… very nice.”

They all really laughed then.

Karlach called over from where she was helping Gale with dinner. “Hey, you lot add camp cuddles to the tally for me, alright?”

This will be in the next chapter of my mainfic This is a Gift, You Know, on AO3 ♥️

[thranduel]

[grapecaseschoices]

things i'd like from bg4 or any similar future games

I think BG3 is very detailed; but I would really like it if the backgrounds had mattered more. Or at least for every one. I heard if you're a drow/half-drow noble you get special dialogue with Minthara. But why didn't my Folk Hero!Tav with Wyll [or just in general?] Or my Outlander!Tav with Karlach? I love that your character gets special interaction with all and sundry, at times, re: class and race. But backgrounds make a charcacter. I don't need details. Just a bit of a nod. At least within the camp.

This brings me to point two. I wish there was a way to get friendship points. It is so strange the characters can be 'meh' about you, dislike you [and strongly], but high to exceptional bonds trigger romance. What about close friendships or growing into a family?

Speaking of, I definitely would have love some down time chatter. It is so strange to me that you get a 'this could be our last time in camp' but don't do anything with it. I appreciate the tiefling [or goblin] party. I love the idle banter on the road. But why not a couple of casual fireside chats. As a group?

I love Halsin but the fact that he is the only one we can have a polyamorous dynamic with, is bull. I'm fine with not every character being into polyam -- but maybe research more before diving into it. I am 90% sure Wyll would've been okay with Polyam - a triad too! - if it was Halsin or Astarion [maybe with Lae'zel but I have to play further to be sure]. I could see Astarion and Shadowheart swinging a 'v' dynamic, and being the best [or worst for Tav's sanity] of metamours! Maybe it would have been a hassle for coding to fit every configuration, but we deserved at least a COUPLE of Tav x Origin x Origin loving.

Also, I think we should have been able to encourage - or maybe it could have happened sans MC involvement - the npcs getting together.

[watchmakermori]

i love baldur's gate 3 with every inch of my tumultuous heart but it desperately needs more opportunities to hug your companions. I am begging you larian. shadowheart just went through the worst trauma of her life, let me FUCKING hug her