#barbarian tav

[spacebarbarianweird]

Hello Darling

Summary: Tiriel desperately searches for Astarion as he loses his immunity to sunlight.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship, f!tav, patch 6 update

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The burn left from the fight and dulled by the tadpole pierces  Tiriel’s stomach and she falls to her knees, paralyzed by the pain.

 It's over.

The tadpole is gone. She is free. She will never become a mind flayer, she will never have to face  that blasted dream visitor. 

Then, she hears the scream. It's a cry of pain, of despair, familiar and shocking.

Astarion is burning in the sunlight.

His beautiful face is gray like ash, his eyes white as if he were blind. Astarion reaches out his hand for Tiriel as if she could save him from  this peril. She has saved him so many times, she can do it again!

But her own pain pierces her body. Tiriel presses her arms to her stomach. She is going to die, she thinks. They both are.

"Astarion, hide!" someone cries out, and Tiriel loses consciousness.

The blissful darkness takes her.

No nightmares, no horrors, no dream visitors. Nothing. Just beautiful nothingness.

She wakes up in a dimly lit room. Her head hurts as if her skull had been crushed by a hammer. She is half naked, her belly heavily bandaged. The throat is sore and her legs are numb.

Tiriel is so exhausted she could sleep for a few weeks.

Four months of non stop traveling. Of fear, anxiety, and never ending stress. Tiriel had never had to make so many decisions in her life. Excusing orders, negotiating, and planning. She is just a lonely traveler, for fuck sake, not a warlady!

And now she can just rest.

The memories slowly crawl into her head and she remembers Astarion’s desperate cry.

A wave of panic  crushes her.

Where is he?!

Tiriel’s only known him for four months, but she is sure they were meant to meet each other. She had never loved anyone before him. His cold body, his pale skin, his sharp mind, his… radiant hope. 

What if he died?

Tiriel makes herself sit up. The idea that her love turned into ashes horrifies her. He was in such pain, he was so afraid. What if he is gone?

Life is truly unfair, isn’t it?

It couldn’t end well. No happily “ever after” for the undead.

Tiriel makes an effort to calm herself down. There are many places to hide. Basements, houses, debris… The whole city is in ruins, he has enough shadow to hide in…

The other realization makes her sick.

Sunlight isn’t his only enemy anymore. He also can’t go inside without an invitation.

He could have burned down in front of the open door to the darkest room in Baldur’s Gate because no one invited him in!

Still dizzy, Tiriel puts on her camp clothes (no need to attract unnecessary attention with her shiny Drow armor) and rushes outside the inn.

The city has been truly destroyed by the Netherbrain, and whatever future lies ahead Baldur’s Gate will never be the same. 

Tiriel wanders the street for hours—she visits the graveyard, the ruins of the vampire lord’s mansion, dozens of places but  Astarion is nowhere to be seen.

He’s known the city for centuries. Tiriel, whose first impression of the city was ruined by the mind flayers, stands no chance of finding the vampire.

By the end of the night, she feels like a lost child. Tiriel hasn’t felt so miserable since the day she woke up in the mountains all alone and cold. She was fifteen, and her rage blurred her mind making her run away from an abusive household. She wanted to go back, to the warmth of the house, to sit by the fireplace even if her stepfather would have beaten her again. To just be somewhere she belongs, not in the middle of nowhere with no weapons or armor.

The sun is slowly rising above the sea and the skies slowly turn blue. Tiriel sniffs. She's gotten too used to NOT being alone, a very unfamiliar concept to be honest. 

Well, if Astarion isn’t back, if she fails to find him, she will have to go. This city makes her sick, it’s too big, too dirty, too crowded. She will walk the roads of Faerun just like she has ever since she was fifteen. The memories will fade and she will probably question why she fell for Astarion in the first place. He is a difficult person, traumatized, angry, his bruises and wounds are invisible to anyone, and the facade of lies is inseparable from his personality.

Tiriel’s heart sinks at the very thought she might not ever see him again.

A tear flows down her cheek and she immediately wipes it away. She is a warrior. A barbarian. No one must see her cry or in pain. Women like her are alive as long as people perceive them as emotionless marble statues. Weakness turns people like her into victims.

But it felt so nice to be weak in Astarion’s arms. To let him tend her wounds, to cry in his arms… He would never admit it, but she knew he loved protecting her.

The night search exhausts Tiriel and she returns to her room in the inn. The warrior locks the door — she doesn’t want to deal with intruders —and falls on the bed, pressing her face against the pillow.

Astarion is gone. If he is alive, she will never find him. If he is dead, she will never bury him. In any case, Tiriel the Barbarian is on her own again.

She  makes herself a promise not to fall for anyone ever again.

When she wakes up hours later, her head doesn’t ache anymore and her whole body feels rested. 

“Hello darling”

She startles at the familiar voice.

Astarion lies beside her, with the palm of his hand under his cheek. His eyes are soft and tender and he has the stupidest smile shining on his face.

“You…” she gasps. “You are back!”

“Of course I am”, Astarion leans to her and kisses her forehead, and then rests his head on the pillow. “You are so adorable when you sleep.”

“I thought you died,” she whispers. “Where were you?”

Astarion touches her cheek. “I was hiding.”

“But you could have returned to the inn once the night fell! I was looking for you!”

His face darkens. “It’s because of hunger. It…blurred my mind. The sun damaged me and once I got to the shadow I was starving and just forgot everything. Who I was, who you were. I fed on… something… I don’t remember what and my mind returned to me. And I was so embarrassed by what I truly am and was afraid to come back”

“But you did.”

“I did.”

They lay in silence contemplating each other’s faces. Tiriel's heart melts at how adorable he looks. He doesn’t pretend, doesn't play, doesn’t act. That’s him, that’s the real him. Hidden and concealed for two hundred years.

“How did you get inside?” she asks. “This isn’t the room we lived in. I thought you needed an invitation?”

Astarion shrugs. “I do need to be invited if I don't want to bump into an invisible wall I can’t go through. When I picked the lock I was sure I would just stand there unable to enter. But apparently… I was invited anyway.”

Tiriel nuzzles his collarbone and wraps her arms around him.

“Tiriel?”

“Hm?”

“You aren’t going to… break up with me, right?”

His voice sounds so helpless and vulnerable that it makes Tiriel hug him tighter. 

“Of course not.”

He cups her cheeks and kisses her. Tiriel leans to him pressing their bodies against each other.

Then Astarion starts talking.

He speaks about freedom, the future, the places they may visit, and things they can do.

“Tiriel”

“What is it, my love?”

“I need to… rest. Can you stay by my side until I wake up?”

Tiriel kisses the tip of his nose. “Sure. I will be right there.”

Astarion buries his nose in her chest, and Tiriel lulls him to his trance.

As she promised, she doesn’t go anywhere. Time to time she moves a bit not to let her limbs stiff.

Then, she notices Astarion slowly waking up. His eyelids are half-open, his mouth cracks a smile. Tiriel draws an invisible line along his nose.

“Hello, darling,” she whispers to him.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen

[thechaoticdruid]

Default Durge this, default Durge that. But what about default Tav guys?!

I feel like she deserves more recognition.

[caitlincat-95]

Watching Astarion try to throw a punch at Cazador and Cazador just stopping him mid punch, and I am convinced there is no way my barbarian Tav wouldn't follow up with a punch of her own. Like, oh hell no, is she gonna sit there watching that shit. I mean, I understand it was a whole big cutscene leading to the fight, but come on, that whole scene was just begging for a full strength barbarian fist to the face.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Magic

Lily felt awful about not connecting with Gale in the Weave. However, he feels differently. SFW.

Lily did not want to face Gale the next morning. Not after her complete and utter failure when Gale tried to connect with her in the Weave. When he wished her a good night, she quickly made her way back to her tent and began to sob. I messed up. I’m so stupid. I’m just a stupid, big idiot who can never measure up to…him.

Unfortunately, she did, in fact, have to face Gale because as usual, Gale was cooking everyone breakfast.

Staring at the ground, she mumbled a forlorn “good morning” to him as she took the bowl of oatmeal he prepared.

“Is everything alright, my friend?” he asked in a hushed voice, his fingers touching hers as he handed her the bowl.

She nodded and then sat away from the group on a log by the river, wanting to eat as quickly as possible and get away. He thinks I’m stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Wild magic bursts from me without a second thought when I rage, but gods forbid when I needed it most and…

“May I sit with you?”

Lily glanced up, wide eyed at Gale, who was standing in front of her and holding his own bowl.

“Oh! Yeah, sure of course.”

With a pleased nod, he plopped himself next to her and dug into his meal. They sat in silence for a few minutes before she gathered enough courage to speak about the previous night.

Be brave. You’re brave cutting through monsters and shit. Be brave now! She stirred her oatmeal. “It was a pity your lesson in the Weave ended so soon---I was enjoying our moment alone. Do you think about us being…alone again?” Fuck. I sound so stupid. He hates me. He—

“Do you?” He asked her with more than a little surprise in his voice.

Be brave. “Yes.”

He smiled warmly and placed his bowl on the ground. Is he reaching for my hand? OH MY GODS. “So do I. You see, I’m not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace.” Squeezing her hand, his brown eyes stared into her demonic purple ones. “You’re one such event that, one day soon perhaps, I’d like to embrace.”

“Me too.” she said quickly. Shit. “I mean, I’d like to have you embrace me! And me embrace you! Yeah!” STOP TALKING. “Sorry, I just felt awful about last night…” STOP. TALKING.

“Whatever for? As I said, Mystra can be a fickle mistress at the best of times.” He squeezed her hand again. “You were brilliant, and I—”

“HEY YOU TWO, FANGS IS JUGGLING HIS DAGGERS!” Karlach shouted, waving at them to come back towards camp.

Gale laughed and stood, stretching his back. “I suppose we can’t keep Karlach waiting.” Lily grabbed his bowl as she stood. Their fingers touched again as Gale took his bowl from her. “One day very soon, we shall be alone and embrace all we like, my dear. I promise.”

I may have knocked the wind out of him when we finally did embrace.

And I’d do it again in an instant!

[illjustpretend]

Check it out! Another finished commission for the lovely @elshells 💖

Her OC Thaedhel is beautiful and amazing and strong and lovely and and and …..

Anyways thanks again for commissioning me! And thanks again to everyone else who picked one up this year too!

[asikaia]

Midway through my Embrace the Dark Urge run with my horrible, horrible Bard/Barbarian, Titania (She/They)

She’s incredibly unhinged and currently romancing Minthara, making them Faerûn’s worst sapphics.

[kon4ka]

Challenge: Drawing D&D classes - Topic 2 - Barbarian

Half-elf (literally, that is, a high elf, of whom only half remains).

📗 Backstory: He was a frail and sick elf who lived chained to a bed and made a deal with a swamp hag to “get a healthy body.” The hag combined his body and the body of the mantis, at first he was terrified, but nevertheless he was healthy and much stronger than before. The elves abandoned him, but a group of adventurers took him with them. To his surprise, his new body felt great in the swamps and soon the whole city knew him as an experienced guide. (I don’t really know what fits here, but it seems like a “hermit” backstory, I’m open to suggestions) !! Further description and version in Russian is below. !!

✒ Personality: Chaotic good. Hot-tempered, hates to slow down and always rushes into battle. He loves money and is very sarcastic.

🪢 Skills: Feels at home in any wilderness, jumps like crazy in fights and is generally very mobile, uses his body, sharp spikes and blades on additional limbs as a weapon. He uses his scythe as a hook to better jump through the trees. May fall into animal rage, giving control to the residual consciousness of the mantis.

✨ Features: Can spit poison and cover body parts with it. Works as a guide through the swamps and sometimes as a courier if they pay a lot. On his chest is a lock of hair from someone dear to his heart. RU

Полуэльф (буквально, то есть высший эльф, от которого осталась ток половина).

📗 Предыстория: Был хилым и болезным эльфом, что жил прикованным к кровати, пошёл на сделку с болотной каргой чтобы "получить здоровое тело". Карга объединила его тело и тело богомола, сначала он был в ужасе, но тем не менее был здоров и куда сильнее прежнего. Эльфы от него отказались, но группа приключенцев забрали с собой. К своему удивлению его новое тело прекрасно себя чувствовало на болотах и вскоре весь город знал его как опытнейшего проводника. (Я не оч представляю, что сюды подходит, но вроде как предыстория "отшельник", я открыта к предложениям)

✒ Характер: Хаотично добрый. Вспыльчив, ненавидит тормозить и всегда кидается в бой. Любит деньги и весьма саркастичен.

🪢 Навыки: В любой глуши чувствует себя как дома, в драках скачет как сумасшедший и в целом очень подвижен, в качестве оружия использует свое тело, острые шипы и лезвия на дополнительных конечностях. Косу использует как крюк, чтобы лучше скакать по деревьям. Может впасть в животную ярость, отдавая контроль остаточному сознанию богомола.

✨ Особенности: Умеет плеваться ядом и покрывать им части тела. Работает проводником по болотам и иногда курьером, если много платят. На груди локон волос кого-то, дорогого его сердцу.

[sardoniqueen101]

Top - Saran Orquina: Mephistopheles Tiefling, Draconic Sorcerer, Folk Hero

Mid Left - Auriel: Half-Orc, Barbarian, Outlander

Mid Right - Calypso: Seldarine Drow, Warlock, Noble

Bottom - Sapphire: Human, Bard, Entertainer

(So Sapphire is one of my Tavs but I let my cousin create her and I play her for my cousin, she gets to guide Sapphire’s decisions and therefore I’ll let her have an input on answers for Sapphire.)

[slipperyskell]

Ehuguhueuhgih sorry I’ve been quiet again, been working on comms and Secrets for my dnd campaign.

In the meantime though, I did get a design down for my BG3 dweeb, Zeal. Bardbarians for the win yo

[laiskanpulskeart]

Crude and primitive you say?

[astarion-appreciation-station]

The beginning of something beautiful.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Deep Reverie

Meanwhile I am writing a bday fic for @asterordinary, here is another dadstarion piece!

And there is also a snippet into the distant future just in case you want to see Astarion's granddaughter

Summary: Astarion has a very uncomfortable reverie only to be woken up by his 2-year-old daughter.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, dadstarion, snippet of the future

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion falls on the floor. The pieces of the rat he was forced to eat are stuck between his teeth but he doesn’t bother to take them out.

A night of “passion”. An innocent young woman, only eighteen years old. She didn’t want to sleep on their first date, but he persuaded her.

And ended her life by bringing her to Cazador.

As a reward, he was offered a choice. A filthy rat or a razor. For some reason, Astarion decided to fight back. Refused to devour the rat. Besides, the girl was so pure and pretty, didn’t he deserve a treat once in a while?

For that, his skin was flayed.

Long strings of flash were falling to the floor and the wounds immediately healed only to be cut open again.

And again.

And again.

Astarion begged. Cried. He was ready to eat the rat only to be spared from another series of tortures. 

The master was in a good mood.

He allowed him to correct his mistake.

Now, Astarion lies in the corner on the stone floor. It’s cold. The dungeon is cold, and the autumn winds wander the mansion. The walls are covered in mold. His own body is dead and he has no warmth to preserve.

Astarion weeps mourning his own fate.

It will never end, he knows that.

Something touches his bare shoulder. Small fingers – and Astarion thinks it’s his gnome brother who came to him. 

No, it's much smaller.

And warmer.

Astarion turns around and sees no one. But the touches become more intense – small hands shake his shoulder to make him pay attention.

And they are outworldly. They don't belong to this dungeon, to this mansion. They are on another plane of reality.

Astarion sits up. He is still in a dungeon, a cold and damp place. Godey follows his every movement. Someone screams from upstairs – one of his siblings is violently beaten.

Or assaulted.

Probably both.

Another touch, now more like a slap, but the hand is too small, it doesn't cause any unpleasant sensation.

Is he in a reverie?

Most of the time Astarion is aware that what he sees is a memory.  But sometimes it’s such a deep reverie he is sure it’s real.

Astarion tries to concentrate on his body and feels like he is floating. Yes, yes! It was a reverie! A memory! A woman pleading for help, beatings, the dead rat. Everything.

But if it’s reverie, what is real?

Is he going to wake up in the same place? In the same dungeons?

Is he…

Astarion’s reverie ends.

He blinks.

His memories are an absolute mess and he tries to re-arrange his thoughts.

First of all, he is on the floor, but instead of cold stones, it’s a wooden floor. 

Second, the place is unbelievably warm. He lies in front of the fireplace and the pleasant flame casts orange light on his face.

Third, he isn't naked. He wears soft fabric – a shirt, trousers, fur socks. 

His head lies on a pillow.

And he doesn’t feel this horrible hunger. Well, he wouldn't mind blood, but he definitely can feel fine without it.

He notices a half-open book beside him.

Small feet echo through the room. 

A two-year-old girl enters the room carrying a blankie. She approaches Astarion and then puts the blanket on his shoulders. The fabric is warm but very small and covers only the upper half of his torso.

He feels tears pricking his eyes.

Alethaine.

His baby daughter.

“Daddy sleep,” she pronounces, showing her fangs.

“I am not, princess," he answers. I am not. He sits up still holding the piece of fabric to himself. 

Suddenly Alethaine’s lower lip quivers and the dhampir starts crying. She presses her tiny palms against his chest, helplessly pushing him back to the floor.

Astarion is confused for a few seconds and then laughs wholeheartedly.

“Whatever you say, princess,” Astarion lies back, adjusting his head on the pillow.

Alethaine sniffs and then lies beside him pressing her nose to his shoulder.

Her body warmth is a bit lower than it is supposed to be. She also doesn’t breathe, but her heart beats, she grows, and she has warm blood, though for Astarion it has a bitter smell and he knows even a drop of it would make him sick.

The girl in his reverie had silver hair too.

He doesn't remember her exact race or facial features but she was young, very young. And once she was a baby just like Alethaine. Maybe she insisted that her father sleep under a kid’s blankets, too.

And then Astarion found her. Seduced her. Dragged to bed even though she was clearly uncomofortable with sleeping on the first date.

He ruined her. And then Cazador destroyed her.

Astarion gives himself a promise that Alethaine will be able to protect herself. If a handsome stranger approaches her with sweet words she needs to stab him in the eye. She needs to bear her fangs and threaten to call her vampire father for help. Or murder them herself.

At least she is a dhampir. Her blood makes vampires sick. Even if a spawn makes a mistake, a vampire lord won’t dare to touch a dhampir.

For they are their parents’ demise.

Tiriel often mentions that sometimes, when her mind is sleepy, she is scared that there is a monster in her bed. Nothing changes the fact that Astarion is a vampire. Nothing.

Astarion sometimes has this chilly feeling that there is something dangerous in the house. Something that can end him. Something faster, something deadlier.

A two-year-old toddler with two pointy fangs who demands to be held by either of her parents and gets very upset if they are busy.

She is probably the only one in the house who isn’t afraid of no one. Her mortal mother. Her vampire father. The dhampir wants them both and loves them both. 

Trusts.

“Oh, what a sight,” he hears Tiriel’s voice. “Alethaine, it’s time for a bath!” The half-elf leans into them, kisses Astarion, and then takes Alethaine.

“I wouldn’t mind a bath either,” he chuckles. “As long as you are present.”

“We can go there once she is asleep. I will gladly let you wash my hair,” Tiriel smiles softly and leaves the room.

Astarion finally makes himself get up and follows Tiriel to the bathroom. She’s already undressed Alethaine and put her in the small wooden tub. The girl splashes the water and giggles.

In the dim light it’s clear Alethaine has very pale skin.

Tiril splashes water on her long hair and starts washing it.

“Tiriel.”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Please?” 

“Of course but I thought, you…”

“Tiriel. She is growing up. Look at her, she is two! How much time do we have to see her like that? To take care of her like that? It will be three years, four at best, and it will be inappropriate for me to see her undressed, to see her like that. You will have more years, of course, but soon she won't let you do all this. I have less time, but neither of us has much.”

“I see,” she kisses Astarion’s cheek. “Do it. You know, you are better at this anyway.”

“Am I?” Astarion chuckles, using soap to wash the girl’s hair.

“You are more tender. I sometimes make rough movements, she doesn’t like it.”

Astarion can’t imagine Tiril being rough or rude to their child but nods. 

Suddenly Alethaine looks up and her ears twitch. “It’s night,” she declares. Then she makes a clicking sound with her teeth as if to bite something invisible.

Astarion concentrates on his vampiric senses and realizes that, yes, it’s already sunset.

And he can go outside.

“Yes, princess, it’s already night,” he smiles.

“I want to go outside.”

“Kitten, you can’t go outside after a bath. You will catch a cold,” Tiriel finds a toothbrush and kneels beside the small tub.

“I want outside. It’s night!” Alethaine insists. Astarion feels her muscles tense. She protrudes her jaw a bit.

Like the predator she is.

“We can go later,” Astarion splashes more water on her, washing the soap away. 

“I want now! It’s calling me!”

Astarion sees terror in Tiriel’s eyes. Well, a little child insisting that something outside is calling for her is definitely creepy.

“And it can wait.”

“What is she talking about?” Tiriel asks, brushing Alethaine’s fangs.

“We are predators, darling. Night predators. It calls for the hunt. She feels it and wants to go.”

“Is it only about blood?” Tiriel asks.

“Maybe not,” Astarion gives his daughter a glass of water. “Alethaine, princess, what exactly do you want to do outside if we go out?”

“I want… I want … I want to go to the woods! To walk!”

“We can do it,” Astarion smiles. “But a bit later, all right, baby?”

“I want mum to go, too!” Alethaine casts a glance at Tiriel. “We go to the woods!”

Tiriel brings a towel, takes the girl from the bathtub, and wraps the fabric around her. “Alright, kitten, we all go together to see the night. But only once you are fully dry!”

Thanks to their dark vision, the little family sees everything perfectly. Tiriel sits on the grass, holding Astarion’s hand as if not to let him fall into the abyss of his own thoughts.

He is grateful for that. He is grateful for many things Tiriel has done for him, so natural for others, so distant for a creature like him. 

Alethaine happily runs around. 

“Will she remember that? This… night?” Tiriel asks.

“I don't know. Even if she learns how to reverie, such early years are beyond her reach.”

Suddenly Alethaine stands still and then jumps on something in the grass.

The next moment she shows her parents a scared-to-death mouse.

The mouse fights back for dear life, sensing the presence of two undead creatures.

“Princess, let it go,” Astarion says.

“I want it!” Alethakne insists on trying to hold the mouse still.

“Kitten, it’s scared,” Tiriel says.

“It is not!”

Astarion takes Alethaine’s tiny hand.

“Please, Alethaine. No one wants to be held against their will. It is bad.”

“Why?”

Astarion hesitates. It is difficult to explain to the child why imprisoning creatures are bad.

“Because it has a family that is waiting for it”, Tiriel says. “Imagine a giant catching you and dragging you to its lair. And how much we will miss you.”

Alethaine sits on the grass and lets the animal go.

“I would kill the giant," she suddenly says. “I am stronger.” 

“And that's also not a good reason to kill anyone.”

“Unless they want to hurt you, then you are free to do anything," Astarion adds.

Alethaine sits between them, and Astarion brushes his fingers along her hair. 

“I will remember that,” Astarion murmurs.

**

A little elf wanders through the clearance. She is only two and barely understands what is going on in the world around her. She knows that her mother calls her Little Fire because the toddler’s hair is the color of a flame. She also knows that her real name is Tiri and she is named after her grandmother who died centuries ago.

The world fascinates her and even though it’s dark she perfectly sees the tall grass flowers that grow abundant on the elven island which is her home. The toddler sees stars up in the skies and hears dozens of sounds with her pointy ears.

“Little Fire, don’t wander too far,” she hears a soft but stern voice.

Her mother stands a few feet away. Her long silver hair waves in the wind and her dress is as dark as night. Tiri is young, but she already understands her mother is different from other elves. 

There is something different about her – she never goes to the druidic groves and often spends days in her dungeons where she performs something that Tiri’s father calls “necromancy”.  She also has fangs she bares when she is angry.

And she can walk on ceilings. 

Tiri returns to her mother and stretches her arms demanding to be taken in arms. Alethaine lifts Tiri up.

Her mother’s skin is cold but comfortable. Tiri’s vocabulary is still very small but she knows that her mother is a dhampir. But what exactly this word means, she doesn’t yet apprehend.

“You know, Little Fire,” she suddenly says. Tiri leans closer – her mother’s voice is soothing and something is enchanting about it. “I remember walking like that through the night clearance. I caught a tiny mouse, but your grandpa told me to let it go.”

“Mouse,” Tiri repeats.

“Yes, I caught a mouse. It was scared – and I was told to let it go. Weird, I am not supposed to remember such things, but I still do. You know, Tiri, my mum had the same freckles on her face. She would have loved you.”

Tiri senses sadness and buries her nose in her mother’s chest. 

“Are you tired, Little Fire?” Alethaine asks, rubbing her daughter’s ear. The little elf nods and yawns. “Then, let’s you to bed.”

By the time they leave the clearance, Tiri is already fast asleep. 

Alethaine hears her steady heartbeat and soft breath. Her baby is so alive she can’t believe Tiri came out of her half-dead body.

Did her father feel something similar when he was lulling Alethaine to sleep? Holding something that was part of him but much more alive and normal?

She was born with one foot in the grave her father had crawled from. 

And what about her own mother, Tiriel? Tiriel died 170 years ago, her face is something Alethaine desperately tries to grasp, but it fades away. It’s a blurry image from the distant past when the dhampir was young and much more stubborn than she is now. 

What did the half-elf feel when she held her dhampir child? The child who didn’t need to breathe and was cold as dead? Who tried to run away from her up to the ceiling and also had a pair of fangs?

Was she ever afraid? Did she ever feel sorry she married a vampire?

Alethaine knows the answer is “no”.

Her parents loved each other. Her father’s undead heart was shattered in pieces when Tiriel died and, even though he’s lived his undead life fully, they both know some things can’t be compensated.

Tiriel was never afraid. She wasn’t afraid of her husband, she wasn’t afraid of her daughter. She loved her with all the passion and warmth she was capable of. 

Alethaine looks back.

The night calls to her like it has been doing for three centuries, ever since Alethaine was born. It sings, making the dhampir’s body stir and her fangs itch.

“I will come back,” Alethaine whispers into the dark. “But first I need to put my Little Fire to bed.”

--

Tag list @tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-eyes @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herdarkestnightelegance

[silkendandelion]

Screaming, creaming, I have passed away

I love my blue boy

I’m not ready to mod yet to use the artificer mod, and I don’t wanna play as a wizard bc I’ve finished the game twice as spell caster classes so I said—

“If Dayedan was to play the game, what would he pick for himself?”

He’d wanna be strong and hit things real hard, that’s what

[bakuzen-art]

Can you tell I'm not looking forward to drawing the background? ( ゜▽゜)

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Live

Lily does not deal with Elminster's visit well. At all. SFW.

“I’d hoped to introduce you to him in less dire circumstances, but those are hard to come by these days.”

Lily was not in a charitable mood. Rage was slowly building inside her after Elminster Aumar arrived at their camp and told Gale about Mystra’s request. “He didn’t seem much of a friend, showing up and demanding you kill yourself.” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Please, don’t make this harder than it should be. Gale shook his head. “It’s not a demand he wanted to make of me. As Mystra’s Chosen, he had no choice but to deliver her message, however much it pained him to do so. For Mystra to have sent him…The severity of her bidding could not be clearer. Or weigh more heavily on me.” I thought I had more time. Time to learn, to read, to love you… “Time seems so infinite when you are young…a month is an age, a year is a lifetime…it is a strange feeling, to realize how little of it one might have left.”

Her mouth dropped open, exposing her fangs. “You’re seriously considering doing what Elminster said?”

“Of course---he offered the clearest solution to our problem. All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes, and let go…” And think of you. I want to imagine your beautiful smile as I leave this world. “Then the slate will be clean, wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone…and I along with it.”

She was growing angrier by the second. “So that’s it? You’re on a suicide mission now?”

Please. I beg of you. Make this easy for both of us. He smiled halfheartedly. “Possibly the most spectacular one ever conceived, but essentially yes. I am living on borrowed time, in more ways than one. Perhaps…perhaps this is now it must be.” As she began to protest, he raised a hand. “But that remains ahead of us for now. The Heart of the Absolute must be discovered before I can stop its beating.”

“You’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.” Lily yelled; her fists balled at her sides.

“Let’s save such certainty for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.”

“OH FUCK THAT SHIT!” She exploded, throwing her hands in the air. “FUCK THAT, GALE!” Turning, she stomped so full of anger but also very elegantly in her way away from his tent. Their other companions dared not look at him.

He found her not too far away from camp, swinging the Everburn Blade against cursed trees. She was clearly in a rage, her normally demonic purple eyes burning red. And it appears her wild magic has created a barrier of protective lights around her. Gods, she is so beautiful…

“FUCK THIS! FUCK YOU! FUCK OFF, MYSTRA WITH YOUR BULLSHIT! AND FUCK THAT OLD MAN COMING INTO MY CAMP AND TELLING THE MAN I LOVE TO KILL HIMSELF!”

Gale’s eyes widened. She…she…she loves me. He cleared his throat and watched the tall, voluptuous tiefling turn to face him. “Lily, be calm. It’s only me.” He held up his hands and smiled gently. “Be at ease, my dear.”

She ended her rage and within seconds, crumpled to the ground and sobbed.

A lady in distress?! MY LADY IN DISTRESS!!! My knees are going to be sore later but needs must! He crouched next to her (oof, that’s my knees cracking) and tried very awkwardly to wrap an arm around her broad shoulders. “Dearest, please dry your tears. It breaks my heart to see you cry.” See and hear. The first few nights when I heard her crying for her mother. Crying when Shadowheart was treating her for some awful wounds. And now she’s crying for me.

Lily sobbed into her clawed hands. “I-I don’t want you to die, Gale! I love you.” She suddenly pulled him into a tight embrace. As if she’s afraid of letting me go. Oh gods. “I love you. Please, please we will find another way. I promise. I don’t know where it is yet, but I’ll find it. I swear!” Tears continued to flow down her freckled cheeks. “I’m a barbarian of Clan Wildheart, and I will protect you damnit. I will fucking save you.” A broken sob emerged from her, making Gale’s heart break even more. “I will save you…”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He shifted so that she could rest her head against him, and he inhaled her scent. Lavender soap from the Emerald Grove. She bought it from that halfling fellow. I remember her saying her shampoo makes her smell like cookies. Good gods, she’s the perfect woman. “And for the record, I do not wish to die. I’m terrified.” He felt tears in his eyes. “But with you at my side, I so firmly believe that we will survive this. That we must survive this. Do you know why?” My heart is beating at a tremendous rate. “Because I love you too, my darling girl. I wish to spend every day for the rest of my life making you smile. I wish to greet the days with you and make love to you all night.” He chuckled. “All day as well, if I’m being honest.” Relief washed over him as he felt heard her chuckle, her strong yet incredibly soft body rippling. “So please understand that I’ve no desire to end my life prematurely. I will fight for you, alongside you, however you want me…for as long as I can.”

They sat (on the bloody ground---my poor knees) for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. Lily held one of Gale’s hands in hers, caressing the top of his hand with her thumb. “You know,” she whispered. “Da always said everyone has their fish---their ultimate catch. You’re my fish, Gale. I’m not letting you go. Not ever.”

“That is quite possibly the most heartfelt and infinitely strange way to describe falling in love I’ve ever heard, dearest.” He smiled. My heart feels as if it will burst with the purest, most radiant joy I’ve ever known. His fingers gently traced circles where soft, freckled skin was exposed. “I love you.”

Sighing contentedly, Lily closed her eyes. “Love you too, magic man.”

I could stay like this for eons and never grow tired of it. However…there is something else she should know…whether she accepts it is another story. Straightening and tapping her hand lightly, he cleared his throat. “I, erm, there’s another…issue of sorts we need to discuss, darling.” Gale watched her gaze search his as she sat upright. “This earring isn’t simply a fantastic piece of jewelry.” He squeezed his eyes closed as he caused the glamour to disappear. “I-I understand if this is a deal breaker---that I lied. Again. However, I can explain—”

Gale never got a chance to explain.

Because Lily’s lips crashed into his, kissing him passionately and cupping his face in her strong and sexy hands. She chuckled as she leaned her forehead against his. “You’ve got nothing to explain, love.” She wrinkled her nose and giggled before kissing him again. “You’re still very yummy.”

“Is that so? I’m…yummy?” Yummy? No previous lover of mine has ever called me yummy. Am I yummy?

Lily gave him a quick peck on his bearded cheek before heaving herself up to stand and then offered a hand. “I can see the wheels turning, Gale love, and yes, you are yummy. Very much so.”

He very gratefully took her hand and stood. Oof, that’s my knees again. And my back. “I would say the same thing of you, darling, but first things first,” his brown eyes sparkled as he wrapped his arms around her thick waist and rested her head under her chin. “I love you, sweetness. I promise I will do everything to live. To survive.”

Before Lily had a chance to speak, her stomach did for her.

Rumbleeeeeeeeeeeeee.

They burst into laughter, and Gale could not help but giving lady love the most gentlemanly tap on her luscious ass. I wonder if she’ll let me—

“To make dinner?” she asked with a grin.

He stepped back and bowed. Again with my damn back!!!! “As my lady commands so I shall fulfill all her wishes, including dinner!”

It wasn’t the finest dinner---a pork stew with potatoes.

But I know there will be thousands more to come…

With my beautiful Lily at my side.

[leonard-cohen-the-second]

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING ASTARION SUBBY!! Do you have any plans on continuing Barbarian Tav and him?

Hello! Sub!Starion is a precious treat and we all deserve it. I'm so glad you enjoyed, and thank you so much for commenting!

I'd love to write more Barbarian Tav, sure! She's a treat to write, and Astarion's trust and happiness is really refreshing. I'm not opposed to starting a ficlet of them, where each chapter is a different situation or something similar.

I have a couple more prompts to fulfill, but it'd be a nice side project. If you have any ideas/prompts/kinks you'd like to see, feel free to send another message! (Or anyone ^^)