#blade’s romance reading quest

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

Okay legit question: what is up with all the romance books that are just retellings of fairytales or classic myths?  Why is this specific trend so prominent?  It’s not inherently bad or anything I just don’t see enough of the appeal for it to be as popular as it is.

[alcazarofthestars]

Hi, hi! I have a request~ What about Yandere Blade x reader who was a part of astral express? The reader is close friend of Dan Heng, so they are always together because their personality is similar. Like, Blade fall in love with them, but they hate him because he's Dan Heng's enemy. That's it. Anyways, nice to meet you~ :3

Oooo~, so like enemies to lovers or a one sided romance? That's interesting! I really liked this idea so I tried a different writing style, please tell me whether or not you like it! It's nice to meet you too btw!

Summary: After leaving the Luofu due to certain unknown reasons and joining the astral express along with a close friend, [Name] had met a rather mysterious man who called himself Blade. After their encounter, they keep feeling watched... Thankfully their dearest friend, Dan Heng, is always there with them to help! (Takes place after Loufu story quest.)

Warnings: ooc, Yandere, yandere content, stalking, unrequited love, one sided romance, unhealthy obsession, obsession, fighting, bad writing, blood, mc is Stelle, gender of reader is unspecified etc. If any of those scare and/or make you uncomfortable please leave.

Suggested to read in dark mode!

Being a member of the astral express has its own pros and cons even more so since you have the ability to manipulate blood, why don't we go through the pros and cons of being in the astral express crew in [Name]'s point of view?

Pros:

1. You get to travel the galaxy with friends while also going on fun adventures together!

"March, call everyone to come here! We're almost arriving at our next destination!" A cheery voice called out to a light pink haired girl who started joyfully skipping down the astral express' halls with glee. After a while March had come back with two other people one with dark black hair and the other with long grey hair. "Finally," The [HairColor}ette started. "We're nearing our next stop!" They said excitedly while turning to her pink haired friend who shared the same level of excitement as they do while imaginary stars surround the happy duo. Seeing this, the black haired male just sighed while the grey haired girl only hummed in response. "We're only stopping here to get some supplies, remember?" As the male said this, the stars surrounding the duo shattered and fell to the ground. "Really? Aw man, I really wanted to look around..." [Name] pouted as they turn their attention onto their black haired friend. "... Fine, I'll ask Miss Himeko to give us a few days to explore, happy?" He sighed unable to resist his friend's pouting face. "Very, thanks Dan heng!" They said as they hugged him. "Wanna try some of the food there? I heard it's very good!" March chirped happily. "hm... I heard so too. Sure why not." The taller grey haired female responded. "Seriously? You two want to spend the time there?" Their black haired friend deadpanned at them while [Name] went between the two to stop any chance of a conflict. "Ahaha, how about me and Stelle go check out the food while you and [Name] go sight seeing?" March suggested as all the others nodded. "Great! It's settled then! We'll regroup back at our hotel at nine, deal?"

2. Meeting new friends and making new connections while helping others in the process!

The black and [HairColor] duo walked around a historical sight while taking pictures and reading the history of said sight. "Ne ne, Dan heng... Are you hungry yet? We've been walking and looking around for one and a half hour..." They complained to their close companion to which he only hummed in response. "Sure, let's go get something to eat." He said as his dear friend cheered as they took his hand and dragged him at a quick speed. "Hey, calm down. I can walk on my own." He grunted as [Name] finally let go of his hand. "A-ah, right... my bad..." They apologized as Dan heng turned around to dust off some dirt on his shirt, but when he turned around again his dear friend had disappeared from his sight. Meanwhile, [Name] had got distracted by a spiderlily that shouldn't be able to grow on this planet. Intrigued, they went to investigate it only to find a trail of said flowers growing. Curiosity kills the cat they say as when [Name] followed the trail, they found an injured stranger who had many massive wounds all over his body. The unconscious injured stranger had handsome features; like his long silky black hair that fades to red covering one of his eyes, broad shoulders, his ears that both carries an earring one that's shaped like a tassel and the other is shaped like a piercing(?), bandages covering some parts of his body, his strong hands-... 'What am I thinking?! Get it together, [Name]! Stop staring at the stupidly hot stranger and help him!' They thought as they finally stopped gawking at the feature that adorned the injured stranger. 'The nearest hospital or clinic is miles away... But... The hotel we're staying at isn't far! And I think I have some medical supplies in my bag to help him, time to put all those lessons with Miss Himeko to use! Great thinking, [Name]!' They thought happily while trying to carry the stranger.

After a while, they were finally able to get the stranger to their hotel room but to do so they had used an unused long coat and a dark shade of glasses along with a black masker to hide his injuries and disguise him so that [Name] wouldn't get reported by onlookers to the police for kidnapping. Thankfully, by some miracle, it had unexpectedly worked. They placed him on their bed and used some alcohol from their bag to clean his wounds before using their ability to manipulate blood in order to stop more blood from flowing out of his body then patched it up using the stuff she had prepared from her bag and lastly took off his top to place bandages on then placed the blanket on his body. 'I did it! Miss Himeko would be proud!' Happy with their work, [Name] let out a breath that was unintentionally held in due to the stress and sighed before looking at their phone to send Dan heng a message that they're fine and went to explore a bit by themselves while also telling him to meet up at the hotel lobby just as they planned together. Looking back at the stranger, [Name] couldn't help but feel as if they had met/knew him before in the past... (Pls bear with me I don't really know how to bandage a person..)

Not that long after [Name] had gotten very tired to the point they were fighting to keep their eyes open but soon fell asleep while sitting on an armchair that they dragged from under the lamp and moved it beside their bed so they could watch over their patient. Soon, the stranger woke up and the first thing he saw was a gorgeous [HairColor]ette sleeping so peacefully on a chair right next to him. The sight of them made him speechless, breathless even and wonder how such a perfect being exists in this cruel world. He couldn't help but be attracted to the said person who looked like they were blessed by the aeon of beauty herself, expecilly with those features of their's that make you want to keep looking for hours on end. Snapping out of his thoughts he shuffled around the bed to get out but ended up waking up the sleeping beauty (that's what he named you) beside him as they let out a yawn. "Haah... Are you awake...?" They mumbled while stretching their arms up, "Mhm... Do you need anything...?" [Name] asked while offering a smile. "... Where am I? and who are you?" He asked. "Ah, right. Well first of all, we're at a hotel located in St. Freya. Secondly, I'm [Name]. Nice to meet you... uh..." They responded. "Blade, my name." He answered. "Ah! Alright, nice to meet you Blade!" [Name] said as they gave him a closed eye smile to which he only nodded "Likewise." He said while looking at the person that saved him. "That reminds me," They started. "is there anything else you need?" [Name] asked clearly worried about their patient's health and need. "... Why... Why did you save me?" He questioned in a monotone voice, if you didn't know any better than you would've thought he was angry but due to a a friend who is as cold as ice most of the time, you have learnt to read people's expressions and body language to understand a persons true feelings. "A-ah... Well you see, I was traveling with some close friends of mine and we were going sightseeing but I kinda got bored so I went to look around, that's when I found you in a small alley... It wouldn't be kind of me to just ignore you, but since the nearest hospital or clinic was miles away I took you here. I apologize if I did a bad job at cleaning and patching your wounds, I'm not that skilled in these types of stuff... But if you do need anything else just ask me, alright. I need to go out for a while to meet up with some friends, will you be alright here?" What came after their question was nothing but silence that was cut by Blade's answer "... No, I'll be fine." He said with an unsure tone. "... Alright then, please rest while I'm away...!" [Name] said as they took their bag and left from the hotel room door.

"Yes, I'm very sure, March." While looking for her friends in the now crowded lobby she heard the voice of her closest friend, Dan heng. "Hey! You guys! Over here!" [Name] shouted to grab the attention of her dear friends who instantly turned their heads in [Name]'s direction as soon as they heard her voice. "There you are, you idiot!" March angrily said as she ran in [Name]'s direction followed by Dan heng and Stelle who shook her head at March's childish antics. "Whoa there, calm down, March." [Name] sweatdropped. "Do you know how much you scared us? Don't do that again, you hear?!" She said as she lectured [Name]. "Did I really...?" They asked in denial. "Yes, yes you did." Dan heng sighed. "What were you even doing, [Name]?" Stelle asked. "Huh? Oh, I found someone who was injured and helped him." They answered. "Oh. Alright. Wait.... WHAA?!" March exclaimed. "Is he here?" Stelle asked pushing March out of the way affectionately. "Yeah, why?" [Name] responded making Dan heng face palm. "Why didn't you take him to a hospital or clinic?" He sternly asked with a glare that made March snap out of her dazed state. "Ooh girl you're in trouble now...~" She teased making you glare at her to which she sticked out her tongue. "Uhm... Well you see... Uh... the hospital is... too far and I thought he wouldn't make it..." they answered in defeat. Dan heng sighed. "Alright, let me check up on him. You two can go ahead and we'll catch up later." He said to March and Stelle to which they responded with a nod and walked off. "Come on, [Name]. We're going." Dan heng stated as he walked towards the elevator "R-right!" [Name] said before following him, unaware of the pair of eyes that have been staring at their figure for a while leaving the hotel building.

When they arrived at [Name]'s room the stranger was no longer in their bed which made [Name] shocked. "Huh?! Where is he...? I could've sworn I told him to stay here... The wounds wouldn't have healed properly if he walked too much..." The [HairColor]ette panicked. "Hm... It seems that our injured stranger has left a note before leaving." He said pointing out the piece of paper on their bed before picking it up. "H-huh? what does it say?" They asked in curiousity. "It reads; thanks for the jacket, glasses, masker, and help, sleeping beauty. I'll probably visit the astral express in the future to return those, but maybe not. If you're ever in danger call me. -Blade..." A loud silence engulfed the duo. "You... You meet Blade...?" Dan heng broke the silence with his question and wide eyes. "Uhm... Yes? What's wrong...? are you mad...?" [Name] said in worry. "It's-... just-... I'm not mad, just please don't get anywhere near him. He's... dangerous. Alright?"

3. Having a fellow member protect you, even if you aren't aware!

Lately, you have been feeling watched but there wasn't any evidence to your claims. You tried to tell March and Stelle, but they only said "Huh? Really? You sure it isn't just your imagination or something?" and "Maybe it's the angry ghost haunting you for eating my ice cream." You had also thought about telling Himeko and Welt but decided against it afraid that they'll overthink things and make the situation more complicated than it actually is. So as a last resort, you told your best friend for his suggestion and prayed to whatever god that he'll help you out. "And that's it..." You explained to Dan heng who has been listening to you rambling about feeling watched and the chill you feel whenever you leave the astral express for the past hour or so while he sorted out some information on the traditions of different planet that you had collected from your latest solo adventure to a new planet. "Hm... I'm not able to do much, but if it makes you feel better then I'll look out for any watching eyes and unwanted visitors." He hummed. "Really?! You're the best!" [Name] chirped happily. "yes yes, now go to sleep or else you'll be tired for your expedition tomorrow." He ordered which you complied with. Happily skipping down the halls, [Name] has started feeling a bit safer thanks to the previous conversation they had with Dan heng but one thing has been bothering them for a while... "Don't get anywhere near him. He's... dangerous."

On your next exploration trip, Dan heng had advised a plan to help you with your (not so little) little problem the troublesome part is the fact that he didn't give any info or told you about it. As you happily walk around the planet that the astral express had stopped by to gather supplies to find some snacks for March, Stelle, and Pompom while also stocking up on perishables and blankets thanks to Stelle who built a pillow fort during a blackout and accidentally trowing them all away after she was no longer using them since the lights had turned back on. While looking around you had stumbled upon many happy couples out on dates while looking into each others eyes that are full of love, kids happily playing with each other laughing and smiling together as they all ran to hide while playing hide 'n seek, a mother and her son who was helping her carry their groceries as he told her what had happened at school today, and much more. You contently stared at them from afar not noticing the small genuine smile that was appearing on your face, but deep down inside you admit you felt a bit jealous of the happy people spending time with each other wishing you could be like them one day where you don't feel alone. Snapping out of your trance you continue to find what you came here for, the reason you came here in the first place, to help out your mentor, Miss Himeko and your close friends on the astral express. Once again, walking around in search of the items needed, you had started to feel that cold chill and watching eyes once again but when you looked back, there was only two kids playing soccer with each other in the far distance. Brushing off the feeling of being watched as being paranoid, you continued to walk around unbeknownst to you that there was some drama happening not too far from where you were...

"I'm not letting you get anywhere near [Name], and that's final." A familiar stern and serious masculine voice stated, judging by the tone, he must be angry at the person he's talking to. That person being none other than Dan heng. "Is that so?" Another voice chuckled in amusement at his statement. "Do you really think you're strong enough to defeat me? No matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to defeat me. I will get them, and you won't stop me, Imbibitor Lunae." The other voice said, knowing well that all he said was true.

Cons:

1.Getting Injured During Missions, Whether It Be A Small or Big Injury

"Ooh! Look over there! Isn't that Mrs. May's purse?" March happily exclaimed while pointing in the direction of a small purse covered in snow. Today [Name], March, and Stelle had gone to look around Belobog as the other members of the astral express went to stock up on supplies once again. While travelling, the group had stumbled across Mrs. May, a very nice elderly lady who lived in a nursing home along with her cats, searching for something. It turns out that one of her pet cats had taken a liking to her purse and would play with it, but then one afternoon the said cat had taken the purse outside without her knowing and returned home without it. Worried, Mrs. May has been searching for it since yesterday without any progress thus she ended up asking the group to search for it. After a few hours of searching all over Belobog, and stopping Stelle from digging through random trashcans on the side of the road, you had found a few signs of the purse such as a strand of light pink silk sticking out in the snow along with some other stuff like money, coins, and a grocery list. "I think it is, at least from the descriptions Mrs. May had given us before we left." [Name] explained as the group went to investigate the purse. "I wonder how it ended up here though... This place is quite far from the nursing home, and I highly doubt a cat would travel this far in this extreme weather..." March voiced out her concern. "I think you're overthinking again, March. It has been days since the purse first went missing, the weather must've been warmer that day." Stelle turned down her thoughts. "Well whatever... As long as we found it it's time to return the purse to Mrs. May now!" March exclaimed. "A-ah... How about you two go first, I'll stay behind for a while. There are some things I want to check out to put in the archives back in the astral express." [Name] explained as the other two nodded their heads at their friends words and turned around towards the direction of where they came from. "Alright then, see ya later, [Name]." Stelle said already walking away. "Bye! Don't forget to call me if anything happens!" March happily said as she too left and tried to catch up with Stelle.

As soon as the duo was no longer in sight, [Name] let out a loud sigh that they were holding in for a while. 'This feels off...' They thought as they started to look around the area for some clues and crouched near a tree to take a short break. 'I swear I felt something off... My mind is playing tricks on me again...' Just as they stood back up, an unexpected force forced them to get blown away into the snow and landed on their hand to stop. 'A... Voidranger...? Wait a minute... What is it doing here?!' [Name] panicked. It's unusual to see a Voidranger in Jarilo VI of all places, after all. Looking at their hand [Name] realized that they were bleeding... sighing then taking out their weapon of choice, [Name] went into a defensive stand. Facing the enemy, [Name] closed their eyes for a second and when they opened them, the Voidranger had already been taken out. Right behind the Voidranger is a familiar figure with long black-ish hair, Blade. "It's you..." [Name] whispered softly, but Blade was still able to hear what they had said but all he gave them was a small nod and said; "If anything happens, just call my name." before disappearing leaving [Name] alone.

2.Getting Lost During An Exploration Trip.

"Aaaaaah....! I hate these types of expedition trips... Why are we even doing this in the first place?!" March groaned as she dragged her feet to follow her fellow comrades who were looking around in some abandoned ruins. "There's some treasures here that we need to retrieve. So just hang in there for a while longer, we're almost there." [Name] explained to their tired friend as March pouted in return. "Well can you please carry my bag? My back is starting to hurt... I mean, why did we even bring these bags in the first place?" March complained yet again as she handed her bag to [Name] who is now carrying it. "And can you believe how-" All of March's words didn't register in [Name]'s mind as everything she says starts to sound like gibberish along with everything else. Soon, [Name] finds themselves zoning out and when they have snapped out of it, they realize that they're now lost. They were in a room with a lot of dust and some... weird purple gas around the room. Looking at their surroundings, [Name] isn't able to find or hear the group. After a while, [Name] had decided to walk around in search of their friends. After a few hours, they were still lost. Hell, it felt like every hallway was the same! Not to mention how [Name] had started to feel dizzy after walking for a while, and this dizziness has not gone away. Frustrated, [Name] plopped themselves down a wall and hugged their legs. "I wish Dan heng was here... or March... or Stelle... or anyone else..." [Name] whispered to no one in particular as they start to sob. "Hic... maybe not Miss Himeko... or Welt... they will definitely be disappointed or tease me..." They tried to calm down. "Alright, [Name]... focus... calm down. What do I do..." they said the theirself and placed a hand on their chin. '... Help... Dan heng... Blade...!' They thought as their vision becomes fuzzy due to their dizziness from before, drowsiness takes over them.

"B-.... Blade...!"

Just as [Name] whispered that, a mysterious figure and fog appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The figure soon became more clear, long black hair that fades to a reddish color, a lean body build, and broad shoulders. Without a doubt, that is the one and only Blade. "You called?" He asked. But unable to keep their eyes open, [Name] had fainted right in front of Blade. "Huh, guess the gas worked better than I thought." Blade mumbled as he crouched down to reach [Name], carefully playing with their hair while enjoying looking at their delicate features. After a while of silence, Blade had placed his hands around [Name]'s body, and slowly picked them up in a princess carry and walked away not noticing the small bag that was left behind.

3.Getting Kidnapped By Your Friend?

When [Name] had woken up, they were no longer in the abandoned ruins that they were in before. Sitting up from the bed, [Name] looked around and realized that they were in an unfamiliar surrounding just as they were about to get up, something was stopping them from doing so. It was a chain on their foot that was locked on both their foot and the bed. Seeing this, [Name] panicked. Not long after, Blade had entered the room. "Blade...?! Great timing! Now come and help me get this chain off my foot-" they said before getting cut off "That won't be necessary. Why would I do that if this is everything I've ever wanted? Having you in my arms, your full attention, your everything!" He exclaimed. "What...? Blade... You're crazy...!" [Name] shrieked as Blade only grinned in response. "Maybe I am. But just know this, I'm only this crazy for you, dear [Name]." He said as [Name] could only widen their eyes in response, afraid of him and his obsession with them.

"You'll be mine, and mine only. Why would you want to separate us?"

END.

Extra HCs:

Whenever you and Blade cuddle he would hug you so tight that you'll barely be able to breath.

You and March would paint each other's nails whenever you have the time.

Himeko can be super strict sometimes when teaching. (Welt having war flashbacks.)

Stelle got scratched by one of Mrs. May's cats

The group was searching for [Name] but only found your small bag and March's bag.

Blade didn't tell Kafka or Silver Wolf cause they would tease the living daylight out of him.

Authors note: I got so lazy at the end... BUT thank God my exams are finished! I'll start accepting requests again. This has been rotting in my drafts since December... I finally finished it!

[leighsartworks216]

A Decent Man

Wyll x AFAB!Tav/Reader (can be read as platonic)

Wyll deserves a longer fic but my brain is mush rn

No body descriptions so it can be read by anybody who suffers from periods, but I have pulled from my own experiences and made it Very Heavy. I also think this could be read as platonic. There's nothing really pointing toward romance, and the kiss on the cheek can totally be platonic (as well as cuddling) so yeah take it as you will

Warnings: blood, menstruation, anxiety, embarrassment

Word Count: 937

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The night had been so perfect. Wyll had accepted you into his tent when the weather turned sour. He opened up his bedroll to you when you were shivering. All night you slept wrapped in his arms, safe, protected and warm. The Absolute was far from your mind. Tadpoles did not seem to exist in the temporary bliss that encapsulated you both.

And then you woke up, and you just knew it was too damn good to be true.

The first thing you were aware of was the strong pair of arms holding you close. One draped over your side, the other cradling your head in the crook of his elbow. Next, the scent of campfire smoke and the oil he used on his braids. And then, the discomfort between your legs. Warm and slick and terrible.

Panic rushed your heart, adrenaline stealing the sleepy haze from your mind. When in the night had your period began? Early enough to have you bleeding through Wyll’s bedroll? Or late enough you would be lucky if it didn’t stain your pants? There was no way of telling, but the awful guilt flooded your chest all the same.

You risk a glance at Wyll’s face. It’s the most relaxed you think he’s ever been in all the time you’ve known him. Always he carried his burdens in the lines of his face, the furrow of his brow, behind sweet smiles and his dashing Blade persona. Your heart hurt at the thought of waking him and stealing that peace.

As slow and careful as you could, you slipped his arm from around your waist. He shifted slightly, and you waited. But after a moment he still did not wake. You continue your escape. Cold air hits your body like an arctic wind as you pull back the corner of the thin blanket. You lift yourself from his arm that acted as your pillow, sitting up. You cringe as a tightness clutches at your belly, and the wet feeling of blood spilling out. There is no doubt in your mind now: you’ve bled all the way through.

Tears of frustration prick at your eyes. Wyll was kind enough to provide you shelter and comfort, and your body decided now would be the most perfect time for a practical joke against you. If you had the wherewithal to remember to track your cycle with everything else horrid going on, perhaps you could have avoided this. Or maybe your body would have brought on your period sooner, just to catch you off guard.

The quiet sound of your name, drowsy and confused, seals the deal on this being one of the worst days of the entire quest so far, everything else be damned. You wanted to drown in your embarrassment, suffocate on your misfortune. Anything to ignore the shift of the blanket as Wyll sits up beside you, frowning as he tries to meet your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks softly, as though one wrong misstep and you’d shatter. His own mind races with thoughts of nightmares, or even the mysterious Dream Guardian that often came to visit.

The last of your dignity shrivels and dies as you adamantly avoid looking at him, glaring instead at the floor by your shoes. It is harder to tell him what’s happened than it is to drown yourself in the Chionthar river, and far less pleasant. The words grit at you. They feel like jagged steel as they come up your throat to be voiced aloud.

“I… I started my cycle last night.” You sigh, fighting the flurry of hormone-driven emotions as you bury your face in your hands. “I think I’ve bled through your bedroll, Wyll, I’m so so sorry.”

If it was Shadowheart or Karlach, you’d be far less embarrassed and far less upset. Hells, even Lae’zel, and you weren’t even sure she had a blood cycle like this.

You start to assure him you’ll wash it out, that he can have yours if he feels uncomfortable sleeping on his own again - anything to make this right. But before you can even get the words out, he’s rubbing your back.

“Hey, it’s alright. Why don’t you go wash and get changed. I can deal with this.”

You pull your face from your hands to blink at him. He smiles when he finally meets your eyes, sweet and reassuring. “Are you sure?” you ask. “I’m sorry, but you just have a tendency to do things people ask even when it makes you uncomfortable.”

He laughs. “As much as I hate to admit how true that is, a little bit of blood won’t be pushing me out of my comfort zone.”

You’re almost certain you really will start crying as you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tight. He’s careful to avoid knocking you with his horns, but wraps his arm around your upper back to hold you close. You kiss his cheek and thank him.

“For doing what any decent man worth his salt should do?” he asks, though despite the teasing in his voice, he can hear the utter relief in yours. He truly never considered before that something so small would mean so much, something he truly considered the absolute bare minimum. It only encouraged him to do more, if only to ease the burden of years of suffering through this alone put on you.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Wyll Ravengard, but there is a great lack of decent men.”

“Then I pride myself on being one of the last of this dying breed.”

---

Tag List:

@anonymously-ominous

[rpgchoices]

How to romance Marazhai (mainly dom!Rogue Trager focused)

First of all, I need to send a thousand thanks to @pjenn @chonker-chan @wretchedelights and @milleart because without their comments, suggestions, warnings and guides I would have not been able to successfuly romance Marazhai as dom!RT. Also a thousand thanks to reddit user u/TohnoRin who also helped me fix the romance.

for an in detail guide on the flags this romance has, and how to avoid bugs and get the ideal ending please check wretchedelights post at this link!

Jan/2024 his romance is currently slightly bugged if you play as a dom!RT. I will update this in the future.

CHAPTER 2 (meeting Marazhai)

While I do not know if other options would also end up in romacne/recruitment, I made sure to choose the answers that were not "I will kill you" (or maybe he would have loved that).

Options and dialogue from act 2 is fromt he Marazhai romance playthrough 1/? post to the 7/?, and you can find them at this tag: Marazhai romance chapter 2.

The quest to meet him the first time is called "Blades in the Void".

CHAPTER 3 (recruiting Marazhai)

In the playthrough tags it is from n 8/? to n 20/?, all tagged Marazhai romance chapter 3. Plus, I did not have some scenes in this chapter so I posted them separately: Argenta and Heinrix about Marazhai; Marazhai's killing blow quest.

Before starting the chapter

Effectively, the chapter is triggered by the point of no return in chapter 2, which is Yrliet asking you to look into a lost ship. The quest is named "Following Breadcrumbs" and at this point just know that whatever characters you bring they will be the only characters with you in chapter 3.

In particular, if you have two between: Ulfar, Heinrix and Argenta, you will unlock some extra dialogue with Marazhai and will have to defend your recruitment of him. Given Ulfar is recruited in chapter 3, you should bring at least one between Argenta and Heinrix. Also, Ulfar needs to be recruited before Marazhai in this case.

Chapter 3 starts with your kidnapping. You will have to find all your companions but one (in a separate map) before your first fight in the Arena. After your first fight in the Arena, you can access Tarvantias' Anatomical Opera where you can recruit Ulfar, find one of your missing companions (for me was Cassia) and talk to Marazhai. Marazhai is on an elevated platform, right from Tarvantias. Here you can ask him to join you.

Recruiting Marazhai

Next is the Arena fight where, if you were successful, Marazhai will join your side, and this is where you recruit him. Back at The Pit you can chat with him and your companions.

Make sure to choose "you intrigue me" when he asks you why you decided to recruit him.

Sub/dom choices unlocked

Chapter 3 is the one that has the messy dom/sub flags, at least until Jan 2024, hopefully it will be fixed later. This means that if you want to be a Dom!RogueTrader you need to choose to sub-adjacent options (in particular at the Pit allow him to grab your chin, and later allow him to use the agoniser on you). If you want to have your character be submissive, then choose the dominant options. In any case, you will be able to change these values with Toybox mod.

The Spire

Once you are out of the streets you can get to the Spire. In my list of playthrough I missed a scene (I did not look for it and did not get the Killing Blow quest), but it seems like it did not change my game or romance.

Here Marazhai will also asks you to stop by and grab something of his (the agoniser, which is on the last floor of the map, the same where his sister is located). I can't confirm but I also read online that picking this up seems to be fundamental to unlock the romance. After you kill his sister, this is the end of Chapter 3.

CHAPTER 4 (romance)

Here is the full playthrough of chapter 4.

Back to the Voidship! This is also where the romance starts. From this point on, the dom/sub flags are correct so you can choose the correct dialogue options.

If you activate on toybox the chance to see dialogues flags and consequences it will be pretty easy, as you can see the tag for "ascension". This is basically an approval meter, the higher it is the more likely to get his true romance ending.

The order of the romance is:

1) In voidship, dialogue with Marazhai, ask him why he needed the services of Tarvantias.

2) First voidship warp jump, you will get news that Marazhai is on a rampage. Go to him, try to break him free from the demonette (I used persuasion, Yrliet's help and coercion) and then warn him of her attack.

3) The post fight dialogue has the romance trigger. Choose between giving him free hunting range (Sub!RT) or giving him a limited area (no dom/sub points but the only option for Dom!RT).

4) Go talk to him back in the bridge of the ship and he will give you the quest "Shards of Tempest".

5) Two jumps or more from this point, there will be a cut scene with him asking you to kill together. The sub!RT option is asking him to guide you; the dom!RT option is to tell him to ask properly and in this case if you did things correctly he won't complain and won't be annoyed with you. With dom!RT, he will just kneel and ask you to join him.

6) Go along with his murderous desires. Just know that for now the aftermath bed scene is sub!RT coded even if you have the correct dom!RT flags, it's okay! Also try to kiss him, I have been told it leads to a later scene!

7) Now you can do his personal quests. While the quest is pretty vague and open, the real quest is three rumors: Suspicious Ships (in Langrenn's Belt), Xenos Skirmish (in Orsellio Prophecy, the planet is Arid World), Fall of Santiel's Pride (in Nolla Septum). You will get fights (ex. clear the Nolla Septum planet and the Drukhari ships) or dialogue options where you can send Marazhai. Do not worry if the rumors don't clear, for me only the Fall one cleared as completed.

8) Go back to the bridge of the ship and you should have a cut scene where Marazhai gives you a gift. Accept one of the three gift options, and then use it accordingly to the role chosen (don't mix it up!), I am playing dom!RT and I chose to use a torture device on him, he was very happy. There is no dialogue difference between the three gifts, only the description.

9) At this point you can proceed with the main quest.

10) If everything goes well, you will get some ascension points (this will give you true romance at the end) and dominant (or submission) points through the main quest (be cruel, eat the brain, re-establish your dominance or submission role when he tests you)

11) After the main quest (the siege) you will get the branding scene. Remember to follow your role! I am playing as dom!RT so I branded him and he was pretty happy.

12) Talk to him on the bridge for some extra dialogue (he flaunts the mark).

CHAPTER 5 (ending)

Chapter 5 videos of the playthrough are here. (to be posted soon)

Chapter 5 is very short so it is almost impossible to miss Marazhai's tempest quest. Visit the few planets around you and you will see some Drukhari ships. Marazhai's old kabal will want to meet him so invite them on the ship.

If you are playing as dom!RT you can get more ascension points (this is for the true romance) by re-establishing your role. Do not be afraid to humiliate Marazhai in front of his people, he wants that and will be disappointed if you do not remind him of his place.

Follow the quest and go to the trap and kill Marazhai's old kabal. This is the final quest for him. I know there are other endings, so I am sure there is a way to make Marazhai into an archon, but for me I had no chance to.

At this point you will get his ascension scene. You will get this scene if you accumulated enough ascension points by re-establishing your roles (these are more or less "approval" points). The scene will start with Marazhai asking you for a bigger feast (murderous killings!).

If you refuse you will lose precious ascension points. If you accept you might have to kill one of your advisors. There is an iconoclast option so I suppose there might be a dogmatic or heretic one, and if you choose that you can reign in Marazhai and make him kill only on a limited side of the ship (the iconoclast option tho is very dom!Marazhai at the moment).

After, you will get him declaring his loyalty and affection for you!!

If you tried to kiss him before, remember to pretend to want to break things off so he will desperately pleade and you can actually kiss him:

(remember that you can add ascension points with toybox if needed).

This is the end of his romance, if everything goes well by the epilogue you will have a slide where it is said that Marazhai is often by your side and you have an unbreakable bond!

[veryace-ficrecs]

Xedgin Fic Recs Part 1

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Click Here for general recs

and Here for Part two of my Xedgin recs!

he loves me, he loves me not by phiroths - Rated T

“What?” Edgin’s response was snarky, carefree with a hint of annoyance as he ties his last knot of his gift of golden strings to his aging instrument.

Doric sighs, her attitude shifting, “Ed, he keeps buying you stuff. They’re not even things you can use on quests or something, they’re specifically designed for you. They’re tokens.” Her explanation is slow as if it’s common sense that flew over his head.

He snorts, testing his lute and tuning it accordingly. “Okay? It’s not a bad thing, they’re great tokens, and it’s even better since he doesn’t expect anything in retuーoh shit.”

A note came out flat under his fingers.

Edgin was being courted.

Fuck.

It's Him Again by Triss_Hawkeye - Rated G

  Edgin is finally feeling at ease, which is instantly interrupted when a familiar figure enters the tavern. 

tenets of devotion by weatheredlaw - Rated E

Ed leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “This is ridiculous. You know that, right?”

“Eh, I think you’ve done weirder things.”

“Weirder than marrying a paladin and infiltrating a cult together?”

Holga shrugged. “You’ve done a lot of weird things. Don’t make me list them all.”

or: xenk needs edgin's help to take down a cult. absolutely nothing can go wrong. right?

Braided Threads by stele3 - Rated M

“Xenk?”

Turning, Xenk watched Edgin enter the stables at a jog, then stumble to a halt. He looked at Xenk’s face and visibly blanched. It had been some time since he had done thus; Xenk could hardly blame him. The mark on his forehead had caused so many to recoil from him over the years.

“Nice, uh, nice horse,” Edgin said after a moment.

“Greetings, Edgin Darvis,” Tyr said aloud.

“Nice talking horse.”

Xenk wiped tears from his face. “Edgin, I present to you my god: Tyr, the Sword Above the Clouds, Keeper of the Door.”

“Your god is a horse?”

Beckoning Life by Mirach - Rated T

  When Xenk learns that Edgin was hurt and needs him, he rushes to him hoping to help with his healing touch. But healing is not effective against a wound caused by a Red Wizard Blade and Xenk has to face his own demons to be able to save Edgin. 

We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper

- Rated T

  Xenk learns that Sofina tried to unleash the Beckoning Death on Neverwinter, and grapples with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help. Restless and unable to sleep, he goes for a walk, and finds that he's not the only one struggling to come to terms with recent events. 

Not If It's You by G_Moore - Rated G

NO SUMMARY - TAGS

touch-starved xenk

touchy edgin

Fluff

not even quite romance

maybe romance eventually

half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter - Rated T

Almost six months after the events of Honor Among Thieves, Xenk shows up on Edgin's doorstep. 

if you get lost, i'll hold your hand by yourstrulytay - Rated T

If you get lost, take my hand and I will guide you.

The words keep swirling around in Edgin’s head, and he’s unsure as to why he can’t seem to get them to stop.

He almost wants to ask further questions; get clarification on why the paladin had felt the need to even say such a thing.

It’s- not bothering him, per se, but it definitely- okay well, bothering him a lot, actually.

Does he seem so helpless? Do they all? He knows their group is somewhat ragtag, all of them pieces belonging to different puzzles, but they all have their strengths. They won’t need help from some big, dumb, strong, handsome-

Nope. No. Ed’s not going there, thank you very much. He’s annoyed at the paladin, not attracted to him.

or, the three times that Xenk holds Edgin's hand for totally platonic reasons and the one time it's absolutely not for platonic reasons

  it's always darkest (before the dawn) by puffvisionary - Rated G

Xenk is not the type of person you can expect to come home every evening, a tired smile on his face and a request for a hug on his lips. He's not the type to step through the threshold of their home and shake off the heroic. His dedication and single-minded focus to his oath doesn't come on or off along with his shiny breastplate.

Edgin knows this, understands this, and accepts this.

That does not mean he's ready for the day when Xenk comes home without any recollection of him, of them, of what they have.

Well, shit.

Touching in the Dark by Bestbuds55 - Rated T

Edgin isn't the biggest fan of Xenk Yendar, but that is obvious to everyone. Well, except maybe Xenk himself. 

Odd Little Family by hollyjolly_42 - Rated T

"Kira found it practical to believe that her father would someday remarry, and even more so to believe that it would be to the woman who was already a trusted, guiding figure to his child.

Therefore, it was much to her surprise when a tall, handsome man interrupted her lute practice to ask her blessing in his proposal to her father."

Someone Lit From Within by BlackEyedGirl - Rated T

Edgin takes a detour when he realises they're near Mornbryn’s Shield. Xenk brings him along on a side-quest and the two of them have a number of enlightening conversations. (Holga has some concerns) 

Solitary Burdens by cupiscent - Rated T

Edgin's wife died years ago, but he's only just now letting go. He can't talk about it with any of the others, but Xenk - aggravatingly - understands. Perhaps neither of them need to carry these burdens alone.

Windows XP love confession by veryace - Rated G

  It wasn't common for Ed to wake up in an unfamiliar place, but it also wasn't uncommon. He had his fair share of unfamiliar bedrooms and houses in his years of barding before he found Zia. It was, however, his first time waking up in a seemingly endless field, with no landmarks to help him figure out where he was.

[theinquisitxor]

January 2024 Reading Wrap

First wrap up of the new year! I read 8 books this month, and I'd say it was a strong reading month overall. I read some new releases, caught up or finished series, and read some good stuff! I read 6 fantasy books, 1 nonfiction, and 1 regular fiction. 6 books I read physical copies, and 2 audiobooks.

1.A Winter's Promise (Mirror Visitor Quartet 1) by Christelle Dabos. 3/5 stars. This is a book I've been wanting to read since before it was translated into English. This book didn't quite live up to the expectations I had of it, but I still overall enjoyed it. I plan to continue the series, possibly quarterly. Young adult fantasy.

2. A Fragile Enchantment by Allison Saft. 4.5/5 stars. Another great Allison Saft book, and this one is possibly my favorite so far. This is exactly my type of fantasy romance and I was very invested in reading this. It's about a young magical seamstress who is commissioned to make the royal wedding clothes for the kingdom's prince. Young adult fantasy.

3.Realm Breaker by Victoria Aveyard. 3/5 stars. This was a fun read, but not the most exciting or great as it had the potential to be. The story has a fun cast of characters, and enjoyable world, but not a whole lot happened in this book. I can def see Aveyard's LOTR inspirations in this. I plan on continuing this series soon.

4.The Atlas Complex by Olivie Blake. 2/5 stars. This was a disappointing end to a series and was very lackluster and fell apart at the end. Disappointing because of how much I loved book 2. There were some redeeming moments, but much of this book felt unnecessary or frustrating. Adult fantasy.

5.Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. 5/5 stars. This is a collection of essays by the author about the world around us, life, nature, and the way we interact with the world. Absolutely my new favorite thing and much of Kimmerer's teachings in the book resonate with me very deeply. Read on audio- which I highly recommend. Nature/essays.

6.Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands (Emily Wilde 2) by Heather Fawcett. 5/5 stars. This was just as good as book 1, and I loved the new adventure and learning more about fairies. Emily and Wendall are my favorite, and I can't wait to see how this series concludes.

7.Beartown (Beartown 1) by Fredrik Backman 4.5/5 stars. I read this book in less than 24 hours and it emotionally abused me throughout. I'm late to the game in regards to this book (no pun intended) but I'm glad I finally read it. Backman never disappoints, and I plan to continue the series soon. Fiction.

8. Mislaid in Parts Half-Known (Wayward Children 9) by Seanan McGuire. 4/5 stars. This felt like the continuation of Antsy's story from book 8, but with some of our main cast of characters on a new quest. Very enjoyable and another solid installment in the series. Is the last time we see the "main cast?". Read on audio. Fantasy.

That's it for January! I am currently reading my TBR Pick of the Month, The Throne of the Five Winds, but I am only still in the first half of the book, so I will have to finish it up for Feb. I also started a new nonfiction audiobook, but am still in the first half of that as well.

February TBR:

finish The Throne of the Five Winds by SC Emmett

Crescent City 3

Nonfiction Audiobook (finish)

Blade Breaker by Victoria Aveyard

The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden

What Feasts at Night by T Kingfisher

TBR Pick of the month

Us Against You by Fredrik Backman (?)

[darthvaderofmiddle-earth]

I just wish I had someone who appreciated my original fiction the way I do. Someone, just 1 person, who would read my own universes and be inspired and want to partake in them and their lore. A single person to read what I make up from my own mind, and appreciate the effort I put into it genuinely and wholely. Instead, it's just my fanfiction, which I don't really write much of, that garners attention. Every piece that takes place in established universes, gets way more likes and reads and attention, versus what I pour my entire heart and soul and life essence into coming up with all on my own, which gets none ever at all. It doesn't matter if I tag and reblog the story 50 times, all 50 notes are from my reblogs and not 1 person even gave it a like. I've paid for advertising my books on multiple platforms. I've shared everything I've ever written as a rough draft for free on my pages so people can get interested in the final product. But no one even looks at those ads, or at the free 5,000+ word stories I write, let alone buys anything from me... I'm seriously pissed... My original ideas are creative, unique, and epic. And nobody cares.

Want to read about the legends of gigantic robots the size of mountains, which were piloted by people who, when they died, they'd lay down in empty fields in their mechs and pass peacefully as nature grew over the mech and turned it into an actual mountain? Go read my dream of the Titan Mechs, then.

What about a man who loves another man he can't remember? And every day the two meet by chance, one angry that he keeps crossing paths with someone not of his realm, and the other frustrated he can't remember this man at all but has a connection to him? And they search for a way to remain in each other's hearts and minds across dimensions that won't allow for such a romance as theirs to prevail? Go read Forgotten Magick, then.

What about sentient robots called Kydons whose queen forged a sword long ago that could control all technology anywhere in the world, and when she died, she hid the blade where nobody could reach it for fear that someone would use it to end her world? And Humankind rises up to find that blade believing the spearhead of the hunt will build something great for Earth with it, only for one Human to find out that spearhead is planning to ruin both Earth and Antu'rok and all life to rebuild everything in his image as the one ruler? So that single Human who found this out must betray his people and find the sword with the help of the Kydons to get it before the spearhead does? Go read my excerpt for Golden Horizons, then.

Are you curious to see how a single man serving Death goes on to become a god of all things good and righteous by inheriting the power of an ancient god who he freed from control of a wicked warlord and then, with said powers, kills to free the universe from falling into an empire of wrath? Go read Ascending Death, then.

Maybe you'd be interested in a universe where the world is made from four giants, all of whom embody a single trait, and when one giant chooses to make Humans, Death, in a jealous rage, casts a plague upon them all in attempt to end them, and one lone Human goes on a quest to find Death and beg for a cure? Go read A Means to an End, then.

Perhaps you'd like a world where Dwarves and Humans once existed, but the Dwarven mines collapsed and all Humans thought Dwarves to be extinct? And for centuries, the stories and evidence of Dwarves faded out until they were nothing but legend? But one Human man is determined to prove the existence of Dwarves, and find out if any are alive still or not? Go read the story of The Forgemasters, then.

And I have infinite more universes to look into, if you're ever curious. I'm always coming up with more and more of them, by the day. Please, support a small original fiction author, and, even if none of these appeal to you, go ahead and share because you never know who might just be interested!

[suitetarts]

would you like to read some act 1 headcanon highlights for an incredibly self insert and passive tav? can also be read as a fic of sorts

tav is decidedly not the leader of the adventuring party.

she may have gone out at first, but opted to stay in camp after the first grove fight and she realized how out of her depth the situation had become.

shadowheart and lae'zel fought over the outing party's direction at first, but once wyll entered the picture, he assumes the role.

tav feels bad that she can't contribute as much as the others, so she goes overboard. she cleans armor, sorts trinkets and letters, prepares and preserves food, takes care of the animals, keeps notes on the party's actions, prepares meticulously crafted maps and plans, etc.

wyll immediately recognizes her strengths, and asks for her help in planning routes, keeping track of their goals, maintaining focus on the larger issues while solving little quests along the way.

essentially, her and wyll work together to lead the group. but wyll definitely does most of the heavy lifting.

lae'zel is kind of iffy on tav at first, not understanding how she's so terrible at fighting with either magic or blade. she warms up to her eventually, but is still very blunt on tav needing to pull her weight in support duties.

besides lae'zel, the others are protective of tav and friendly.

if anything, tav easily gets shadowheart's respect initially by way of being unliked by a githyanki. eventually, shadowheart realizes how nice it is to have someone she can tell secrets to.

gale helps tav with cooking meals, and she's always asking for magic tips and tricks. she's a slow learner (if she's really learning anything at all), but he's excited to have a willing and interested ear.

without a battle-hardened tav to vouch for him post-vampire reveal, astarion is frequently left out of the adventuring group unless his particular roguish skills are needed.

tav is freaked out by the news initially, but quickly figures if astarion hasn't killed her defenseless ass yet, then he probably won't. and if he does, oh well. what would she do against a vampire anyway?

astarion and tav end up hanging out a lot during the day and he is a really really bad influence on her. they swap books, gossip, look through other people's things (she does so with some amount of respect, he is the opposite), make bets, bother withers, teach each other how to curse in random languages they know bits and pieces of, etc.

tav thinks they are genuine friends. she looks forward to the days when he's benched and they can hang out. meanwhile, astarion finds her pretty and easy to talk to, but simple-minded and a straightforward mark.

seeing the social capital that could be gained with the others by sleeping with tav, astarion is an aggressive flirt. she reciprocates etc etc astarion romance plot you get the gist.

tav isn't strong, but she also isn't stupid. she can sense that astarion is hiding something from her. she has far too much time on her hands to not think over their interactions, and he tries to distract her by bringing scratch to camp.

the distraction works for a time. scratch is a welcome companion on the days when she's alone at camp.

once the areas they travel through are known to be clear and safe, the others will take tav out to see all the places they've been.

her favorite is the arcane tower in the underdark.

tav feels a connection to its previous inhabitant, lenore, and keeps every book and scrap of poetry. the loneliness, the despair, the heartache... it feels deeply relevant to her struggles with her role in the party, and what she is beginning to (subconsciously) realize is an empty relationship with astarion.

shadowheart told tav what to say to make bernard hug her, hopeful that it would cheer her up. as the robot gave her encouragement, tav started crying.

the others were ready for a fight, thinking that she'd been hurt.

tav stopped them, and then softly asked to be taken back to camp. on the walk back, she falls in step next to astarion. she looks at him for a moment. he catches her gaze, and she quickly turns back to watch her feet.

astarion gets a tightness in his chest, one that's been plaguing him ever since he brought scratch to camp for her. its deeper though, thanks to the adrenaline and fear from thinking tav might have been in danger at the tower. this is the moment he realizes he's fucked up his seduction for protection plan.

aaand that's act 1. here's tav (basically me as an elf):

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Frozen

*screeches in delight* Ok so I just finished the TSS masterlist (also please add me to the taglist) and at least in the past, you did literal interpretations of sayings. My question is, does this apply to fight/flight/freeze or brain freeze, and if so, do you have the spoons to write a fic? - diamond-blade

So I just saw this post (do links work in asks? It’s by orbmanson7), and now I want a Logan angst fic where the other sides literally silenced him. Or just any Logan angst, I’m not picky! - anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: paralysis

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 2284

    Out of all of the ways he envisioned the argument ending, this wasn't one of them.

"Look, if we could all just get on the same page—"

"Same page? You're on a different chapter, Pocket Protector!" Roman throws his hands up. "Matter of fact, a different book! A different library!"

"There really is no need to be so dramatic."

"No—no need?" Roman splutters. "What do you think my job is?"

"It's not to be a constant nuisance!"

"I dunno," Virgil mutters, "could've fooled me."

"Oh, like you can talk!"

"Now, now, everyone—" Patton raises his hands in what is supposed to be a placating manner— "let's stop with all the name-calling and just settle down."

"Oh, I haven't even started name-calling."

"I think the point was to pre-empt any name-calling you may have done," Logan points out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

There really was no reason for this argument to spiral out of control so much. It was simply to decide whether Thomas would spend the day writing—as he had planned for the week and had already declined other weekend activities for, he had expressed multiple times that he wanted to write and in fact, missed it—or whether he would accept the invitation for coffee from someone he'd met a few days earlier.

Logan, of course, had maintained that they decline. They had plans, they had projects, ones that Roman himself had been advocating they work on.

Roman, however, being as fickle as he always is, had the prospect of romance figuratively waved under his nose and he'd been derailed faster than—well, a train derailing.

"Logan's got a point, Princey, you're the one who's been pushing for us to do the projects for like, a month." Virgil leans back against the stair rail. "You realize that this is likely the only time Logan's gonna be agreeing with you on…anything for the next year, right?"

"Logan, on average, how long does 'getting coffee' normally take?"

"Well, based on most estimates the actual act of procuring the coffee takes about five to ten minutes depending on the density of the other customers, extending to forty minutes if during peak rush hours—"

"You know what I meant."

"—but the act of 'getting coffee' in a romantic setting normally lasts at least an hour."

Roman gestures emphatically. "One hour! One hour! We can spare one hour from our busy day of writing to go and get coffee with someone."

"Interrupting your creative process has rarely shown such productivity. Additionally, it is unlikely that it will remain one hour when you account for travel time."

"Aren't you the one who's always advocating for healthy scheduling and taking breaks? I seem to recall a lengthy conversation with both you and Janus about pacing myself." Roman gestures at the door. "This is a way for me to take a break! For all of us to take a break!"

Virgil snorts. "Speak for yourself, Princey. Both you and I are gonna be on the clock."

"Plus—" Roman points at Patton— "the other day you and I were talking about how I need more inspiration! Because we decided that going on quests in the Imagination wasn't good enough, so I need new material! This is how I get new material!"

Patton falters and inwardly, Logan curses. If Roman can get Patton on his side…then the argument is as good as over.

"You also have a tendency to get distracted very easily by new things," he points out, "and it is likely that you will become so preoccupied with fantasies about this new potential suitor that you will lose all motivation or inspiration to work on these projects."

Virgil hums, pointing at him. "He's got a point."

"…he does, kiddo."

Roman makes an affronted noise, all but wilting. "Come on, this'll be good for Thomas!"

"Good for Thomas," Logan asks, "or good for you?"

"What's the difference?"

"Well," he continues, adjusting his glasses, "what's good for Thomas can also be working on these projects he's been letting sit and stagnate for almost a month now to help appease his Anxiety and maintain a consistent level of productivity."

He raises an eyebrow.

"And it allows more than one of us to take 'center stage,' if you will."

"I appreciate the theater reference, but come on, I'm asking you for an hour! Two, tops!"

"We've kinda already set this day aside for you, Roman," Patton says warily, "you—don't you think you're getting a little greedy?"

There are points, Logan has realized, where, in hindsight, he can label them as the moments where the nosedives begin. And while he will grant both Roman and himself the respect to admit they'd been somewhat antagonistic towards each other, Patton's remark had…well.

"Greedy?" Roman draws himself up. "Excuse me, what exactly am I being greedy about?"

"We have already decided this day shall be for writing. That means that you will be the one who is 'in charge,' so to speak, or at the very least your connection to Thomas will be prioritized." Logan gestures around at the others. "However, as Thomas's creative process revolves around us as well, as characters he has created and such, that means we shall also have a part to play, even if yours is disproportionate to ours."

"Okay—"

"However," Logan continues as Roman tries to interrupt him, "if you choose instead to go on this…coffee date—"

"I didn't say it was a date!" Roman holds up a proclamatory finger. "Let the record show I never said it was a date."

"That's kinda what you implied, though," Virgil muttered.

"—if you choose to go," Logan says, speaking over them, "then it will very much be a 'one-man show,' if you will, save for the occasional inputs you deign to allow the rest of us."

"Except me," Virgil adds, "you get no say in that matter."

"So, yes, Roman." Logan crosses his arms. "Trying to force an activity where you have more of a say could be considered greedy."

Roman splutters, looking back and forth as if expecting someone to deny it. When no one does, he puffs himself up and clears his throat. "I am trying to ensure Thomas gets adequate socialization and continues to meet new people! I-if anything, it's Logan who's being greedy for insisting we stick to his strict schedule!"

"Oh, god."

"Roman…"

Logan draws himself up too. "I have at least taken the time and care to make sure that everyone is content with the schedule, whereas you—"

"I"m not content with it! In case that is very much unclear—"

"—insist on blundering through things as you always do and expecting everyone else to cater to your needs—"

"—no, I am not happy with it. And you're the one who insists I have only 0.5% of any given day, were you just looking for an excuse to—"

"—without realizing that we have to work together. I understand that might be a difficult concept for you to grasp—"

"—shut me out? Oh, and here we go again, el principe es estupido, is that the only insult you have?"

"—but I assure you it is a worthwhile endeavor. Perhaps if you were capable of seeing beyond yourself—"

"I don't know how to put other people first? Why do you think I've let this project be pushed off so much, because none of you—"

"—then you might realize that the world does not, in fact, revolve around you and whatever you think is important—"

"—seem to think it's worth doing even though it's Thomas's source of income! You don't understand how hard it is to—"

"—and since you clearly cannot afford even the basic respect of listening to me and letting me speak uninterrupted, then clearly you are not capable of considering the fact that you are not—"

"Shut up!"

—worth having this argument with, is what Logan would say, or perhaps even don't tell me to shut up!

What he ends up saying is nothing.

Nothing at all.

Which is, of course, because he has been frozen.

His arms go rigid at his sides. His lungs refuse to inflate. His eyes begin to water from their inability to blink. His mouth dries up and he stands there, hangs there, freezes there as something horribly cold and deadly seeps into him.

I can't move. I can't move. I can't move.

An interesting thing about pain; pain requires functioning nerves. If you can't feel anything, then you can't feel pain. But if you can't feel pain, then you can't tell when something is wrong. And if you can't tell when something is wrong, you can't tell when it's getting worse.

Mouth open, one hand slightly raised, his weight imperfectly balanced on one leg because he'd been in the middle of shifting, Logan freezes in place. He looks at his hand and for a moment, he doesn't quite recognize that it's his hand because he can't feel it. He can't move it. He can only stare at this thing a few inches in front of him that looks like a hand that used to belong to him.

Then he remembers he can't scream.

"What the fuck did you do?"

"Logan? Logan, are you okay?"

"What the fuck did you do, Roman?"

"I don't know! I didn't—I don't know, I've never done this before!"

"Well, fucking undo it then!"

"I don't know how! I don't—don't shut up! Talk, Logan, say something! Move!"

"It's not working!"

"I can see that it's not working!"

"L, L, you gotta move, you gotta—come on, bud, you gotta."

"Un-shut up! Anti-shut up! Move again! Undo whatever I just did! I take it back!"

"That's not working either!"

"Fuck—I'm sorry, Logan! I didn't mean it, I just got angry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Roman, I swear to god, if you can't fix this—"

"Unfreeze!"

Logan gasps, sensation flooding back into his body so quickly it's almost painful. He collapses into a heap as blood rushes through him, pounding so heavily in his ears that it's almost deafening. His hands—his hands, he can move them now—scream with pain as he clenches and unclenches them, his muscles trying slowly to reacclimate to moving, to feeling, to being unfrozen.

"Easy, bud," comes Virgil's low voice, "in for five, okay? One…two…three…four…five. Good, good job. Hold now…"

He lets Virgil walk him through a breathing exercise until he can breathe normally. He looks up and nods when Virgil gives him a quiet you okay?

"Logan, kiddo? You okay, sweetheart?"

"Yes…yes, I think so."

"Go slow, okay," Virgil warns as he starts to stand up again, "you just gotta go slow."

Standing is…challenging, but he manages. The whole ordeal had lasted barely a minute and now that he's able to move again, the panic fades and he can start to function once more. He takes a few more deep breaths to steady himself before he looks around.

Patton is hovering, concern written plainly all over his face. Virgil is next to him, there if he needs to grab onto his shoulder or sink out. Roman is—

Roman is standing on the other side of the room, his hands held over his mouth in horror. There are tears on his face.

"I'm sorry, Logan," he whispers, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, I didn't even know I could do that, I—are you okay?"

"Yes," and surprisingly, he is, "I'm alright now. I would…appreciate if that didn't happen again."

"No, no, of course, I won't—I won't do it again. I promise."

"Thank you."

Roman nods, his hands finally moving away from his face. He swallows and draws himself up, although this time it's far more similar to a child trying to save face than an arrogant prince. "I, um…we can…I'll be ready to write on Saturday."

"That would be great, thank you."

"Do you…need or want anything else right now?"

He pauses, considering, before slowly reaching out for him. Roman balks, confusion and fear warring on his features before he slowly crosses the room to let Logan grab onto him.

"You're the warmest," Logan mumbles, lurching forward to hug him—only it ends up being more like leaning his entire weight on Roman while Roman holds him up— "I'm still cold."

"Oh, of—of course." Roman wraps his arms carefully around him and Logan hums. "Would—do you want to sit on the couch?"

"Mm."

"…was that a 'yes?'"

"Yes."

Roman helps him carefully over to the couch as Virgil and Patton pull out the coffee table to make room for everyone's limbs. Logan turns his face against Roman's shoulder and closes his eyes.

"I'm going to sleep here now."

"Okay." Roman adjusts his grip so he won't get a strain in his neck. "I really am sorry, Logan."

"I know." He blinks up at him. "We can't do Saturday, but maybe…we may be able to do Sunday?"

Roman smiles. "We can talk about it later. You should sleep now."

And so he does.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The retelling stories are prominent cause one, you can simply look at the original thing you are using and tweak a set of things to make the story and, second the stories might be special to them like someone has a childhood memory so seeing the same thing cause them to be happy

Yeah i figured nostalgia was a part of it. probably why i don’t relate. I always preferred the animal stories to princesses as a kid, and I’ve yet to see someone make an edgy, sexed up version of A House for a Hermit Crab.

[giraffefeather]

Absolutely love playing DAII for the first time with minimal knowledge. Like... all I know is Anders blows up the Chantry. At some point.

(Post got long, have a courtesy cut) Spoilers up to the end of Act II.

So I'm just wandering along Kirkwall, doing whatever quests pop up. I somehow managed to acquire Fenris at the VERY END of Act I. Like the last quest before finishing the main quest. I kept wondering when he'd show up.

Meanwhile, I've already decided to romance Anders. (Even though Fenris's voice hit me like a fucking freight train and I very nearly switched sides immediately). And I'm just blindly doing what he asks because he's my future husband, you know?

Totally forgot about the conversation with him about meeting at my house. Went to my house to read a letter and BAM! There's Anders! My Champion is absolutely a moron and definitely forgot in game, but hey, pleasant surprise, right?

And I'm jumping from quest to quest so randomly that I managed to complete Aveline's goofy date quest and then immediately followed it with my mother dying in the most horrific way. The fucking whiplash nearly broke me!

Every decision I make either pisses off Anders or Fenris. But Anders is my boy, and the only other warrior option I have is Aveline and I am not dealing with her! So I have to take Fenris. I have somehow managed to keep his friendship level just above rival, but boy does that elf dislike Hawke. And Anders. Jury's still out on if he likes Varric.

(My Hawke is a dual-blade rogue, so my party is always Anders, Varric, Fenris. For balance! Yeah... not because their banter has me giggling like an idiot)

Thought for sure that Anders was gonna blow up the chantry during his Justice quest. Was mildly disappointed when the Chantry was intact.

But uh... hey Anders? Trying to give away your prized possession to Varric? Keeping secrets? Absolutely eluding to some type of betrayal? WHAT DID YOU DO????? Mentally preparing for the worst while desperately trying to convince him to stop this nonsense or at least TELL ME WHAT THIS NONSENSE IS! (I need to know but I refuse to spoil it).

Haven't looked up any guides except the one for the Books of Evil. Because fuck that one. (I have a desperate need to get every achievement I can, to do every quest available).

Hey, as someone whose very first DA experience was a Qunari Inquisitor... where are the lovable Qunaris? Why do I have to hate and kill all of them as Hawke? Justice for Qunari! (Or at least give me a Tal-Vashoth that survives Kirkwall)

IMMEDIATE distrust of Meredith. What's up with her? No... don't tell me. Not yet.

Why am I so surprised at the amount of swearing in game? I mean DAI wasn't exactly PG, but feels like DAII has the language while DAI has the nudity. Is there nudity in DAII? Do I really want to see it? Or do I just want DAI to say fuck?

I started my playthrough months ago before returning to it. I do not remember naming my dog "Jurn." Why did I name my dog Jurn?? It's not even funny stupid, just stupid stupid!

Checks out for my Hawke. She really is just stupid stupid. Varric is truly holding this team together.

Constantly asking myself what the plot of this game is. Act I, make money. Got it, easy enough. Act II? Qunari for some reason? Act III.... ????

Isabela you little shit, come back to my party! I sided with you and you just up and left?? Come back! I miss you at the Hanged Man...

Bethany has been unavailable for like half the game. I didn't notice her absence for the majority of Act II. Idk why I thought I could just take her from the Circle if I ever wanted to. I just... didn't ever want her in my party. (I feel kinda bad, but with the Hawke family history, I have a sneaking suspicion she won't survive Act III).

I keep hearing about Anders's cat. He keeps talking about kittens. Where is this cat??? When does he get a cat? Can I pet it?

Act I has scarred me and I am hoarding gold like a dragon. I have bought exactly 2 things. An armor upgrade I found for Isabela (who is absolutely never in my party) and a gift I was curious about. That gift was immediately forgotten until I started talking to my companions. Suddenly, I had a gift for everyone that I picked up on my travels. I have no idea which one was the one I bought.

Really need to look into those armor upgrades... It's Act III and everyone is in their beginner armor. Except Isabela. But... she's fucking gone, so...

I love that Varric keeps track of kills. I'm ashamed that my Hawke is an idiot and probably has less than everyone else.

If I hear "out of range" one more fucking time... shut up and do your rogue jump into battle, Hawke. You're embarrassing me.

I keep hearing about this Sebastian fellow. I hope I get to meet him. I think I have all the add-ons. I just don't trust myself to find the right quest to find him. Maybe he's late game?

Love/hate that all my poor decisions come back to haunt me. Refuse to pay the loan shark dwarf? Yeah, we're getting ambushed at every turn. Hawke is very good at making enemies.

Merrill, sweet ray of sunshine, daisy with the eluvian, you scare me. But damn, I really want to see if the eluvian works (reason number 76 why Fenris hates me).

WHY DOES ANDERS ALWAYS BRING ME TO THE SEWERS??? THIS IS NOT VERY ROMANTIC, ANDERS!

Keep forgetting to protect Varric in battle. That man has used more injury kits than I care to count. I love the idea that he keeps telling all this to Cassandra, too. Like "yeah we had to battle the Qunari, but I was knocked out for half of it. Anyway, here's what happened while I was out cold."

Have I mentioned my battle skills are absolutely horrendous? Like button mashing is a strategy, right? Varric having to tell Cassandra, " yeah so we were fighting like 8 shades and 2 rage demons and Hawke was... waving her daggers at an empty corner for 3 minutes."

Hey uh, how does Varric know what went on in the privacy of Hawke's bedroom when Anders came to visit? And why is he telling Cassandra? Varric, I have questions and concerns.

Anyway, I'm loving this game, and how different it is from DAO and Origins. I like that I never know what the main plot is. I mean, yeah, mages vs templars, but I mostly know that from DAI and other lore referring to it. While playing, it just feels like Hawke is a person doing her best to meddle in absolutely everything with no game plan. And it's lovely!

[choicesbookclub]

Welcome to the Choices Book Club! We are currently reading Blades of Light & Shadow II. The book releases a new chapter every Friday on the Choices App.

This Week’s Chapter: Chapter 5—Into the Woods

Question(s) of the Week: 

What LI's make over did you like best? [Vote Here]

How would you rate this chapter? [Vote Here]

Now that we're five chapters in, are you sticking with your book 1 LI or are you thinking about switching? (They've all changed)

Do you have any predictions/theories as we head to the Shadow Realm next week?

Did you kiss the mermaid? [Vote Here]

How do you feel about Aerin joining the party?

Do you trust Aerin? [Vote Here]

How are my Aerin romancers doing? Any non Aerin romancers ready to switch yet?

Did you complete the summer frost quest? [Vote Here]

*Newly added questions in purple

How else to Participate:

Please note that the mod is working full time and has real life responsibilities, so reblogs may be delayed 24-48 hours

Post reactions, screenshots, videos, ramblings, theories,… whatever comes to you while playing

Create drawings, edits, moodboards, fics, headcanons, songs, poems, etc based on the chapters and/or characters

Create a profile page for your MC and submit it to our MC directory

Catch up on any of the previous week's questions/prompts

Posts that tag @choicesbookclub and use “#choices book club” will be reblogged here. Please note that tags “#choices book club” seem to be more reliable than mentioning the blog.

If your post is not reblogged within 48 hours, please dm me a link @lovealexhunt. Thank you!

[Please read the full guide to the event and how to participate here]

[nothwell]

Blessed Winter Solstice! On the longest night of the year the Oak King duels the Holly King to turn the seasons. You can read all about it in OAK KING HOLLY KING, a gay Victorian fae romance available now wherever fine books are found. And you can read an excerpt of Shrike and Wren's first winter solstice together below.

~

As the two kings reached the centre mark, the Holly King turned to cast one final glance back up at the queen’s bower. The glimmer in his eyes froze before it ever reached his cheeks. He raised his two-handed longsword aloft in salute, then resheathed it, as to begin the fight fair.

Shrike did no such thing. Instead he cast his gaze over the crowd in a last desperate quest for Wren. He’d almost consigned himself to defeat when he spied him at last—a pale bespeckled face, chestnut locks tumbling in disarray over his brow, his dark eyes wide and deep with a longing that sang through Shrike’s own heart.

Shrike vowed to return to his arms. Then put him from his mind for the remainder of the duel.

The herald—an apple-cheeked, toad-mouthed courtier in exquisite wasp-lace—called for the combatants to take their places marked on either side of a ring some three ells wide burned into the ground. He held up the queen’s token between them. A scrap of emerald velvet, shimmering with sunbeams, a portent of the spring to come. Then he turned to the queen herself for the signal.

Shrike didn’t bother glancing back at her bower.

She gave her sign regardless, for the herald dropped the token and leapt backwards out of the fray as it fluttered to the ground.

The moment the merest corner touched the dead grass, the peal of metal against metal rang out through the cold air as the Holly King unsheathed his longsword.

Shrike did the same with his arming sword an instant after. He had time to do little else before the first blow fell from the Holly King’s blade and forced him to dive to the side. The blade sang as it cleaved the air by his head.

In its wake there came a sharp sting in the tip of Shrike’s ear. Something cold trickled down its length.

First blood.

The crowd roared in approval.

~

Amazon • Apple Books • Barnes & Noble • Bookshop.org • Kobo • Overdrive • Smashwords

[scifrey]

The Untold Tale book one of The Accidental Turn Series

Fandom: Original Fic Pairings: M/F & M/M Genre: Romantasy (Romance & Fantasy), Quest Narrative, Epic Fantasy, Portal Fantasy Warnings: Off-page SA, light dub-con, and on-page consensual sexuality. Please curate your experience accordingly.

Forsyth Turn is not a hero. That's his older brother's job, and Kintyre is nothing if not legendary. However, when a raid on the kingdom's worst criminal results in the rescue of a baffling woman, oddly named and even more oddly mannered, Forsyth finds his quaint, sedentary life turned on its head.

Dragged reluctantly into a quest he never expected, and fighting villains that even his brother has never bested, Forsyth is forced to confront his own self-shame and the demons that come with always being second-best. And when he finally realizes where Pip came from and why she's here, he'll be forced to question not only his place in the world, but the very meaning of his own existence.

New Chapters Drop Tuesdays on Wattpad and AO3.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3 | Buy Paperback or eBook (coming 2024) | Read chapter one below

*

The Sigil that Never Fades The Quill that Never Dulls The Cup that Never Runs Dry The Parchment that Never Fills The Blade that Never Fails The Desk that Never Rots The Spirit that Never Lies With these tools our world was born, And with them can be broken. Or born again.

I am upstairs preparing for bed when I catch sight of the approaching cart and its cargo through the thick glass of my window, and I assume the body in the back is a corpse, brought to me for study and then burial. But no one handles a corpse with such care; the driver is directing the horse to travel slowly, avoiding each hole in the dirt road. They also do not stop to pick up a healer for a corpse. Yet Mother Mouth is in the back, hunched as best she is able over the blanket-wrapped body. 

By the time I make it down the grand staircase to the foyer, three of my Men are lifting the bundle from the cart with careful concern. I gesture to the threshold, and they lower it onto my front step. As soon as they set the body down, I can see that my assumption was correct. 

It is a young woman. 

And she is still alive. But only barely. I contain my shudder of revulsion, clamping my teeth down hard on my tongue to keep from gagging. I think I am only successful because I’ve seen this sort of thing before.

Bootknife has flayed her very prettily. 

Artistic tendrils of bloody ivy are torn into the vellum of the young woman’s flesh. I can only see a little of the pattern, however, from between the blanket’s folds. Bootknife has written spells and agony into the muscle he’s carved, into the wounds left by the strips he fileted from her. It’s as detailed as any woodcarving for a stamp—some deep; some wide and shallow; some the merest scrape, only a layer or two of skin absent. Disgustingly beautiful. But it is not art.

It is torture.

She is unconscious. A blessing. I can’t imagine how much the young woman must have been screaming before my Men forced poppy milk down her throat. Well, I suppose I can imagine it—I have seen quite enough of Bootknife’s handiwork to be able to envision her pain. What I mean is that I do not want to imagine it. I can’t bear the thought of the sounds that must have ripped her throat bloody.

She is as wrapped in rough blankets as she can be with such extensive injuries to her back. The blankets are filthy and crusted with blood and other bodily fluids, which means they were probably the only protection against the chill spring morning that her rescuers could find. I clench my hands into fists and jam them into the pockets of my house robe to keep from rushing forward and helping. A Chipping Master does not dirty his hands in labor. I hear the invective in my father’s hateful voice in my head, and I take great pleasure in telling it to go drown itself.

All the same, I stay back. I would only be in the way.

Mother Mouth assesses the young woman’s injuries, and when she is done, we ensure together that there are no Words of Tracing carved into the victim’s skin. 

It would not do to give our enemies such advantageous leverage as to lead them here. To the unknowing, my home appears to be no more than the manor of silly, crumpled Forsyth Turn, younger brother to the great hero Kintyre and a man quite stodgily attached to his library. And those on the outside must remain unknowing. Even the slightest slip would bring the Viceroy down on my Chipping, and I will not have the people under my care endangered.

I do not bother to ask why my Men brought the woman to me and not to the king; if the king had the security and ability to protect himself and those in his charge from the Viceroy, he would never have secretly employed me as his Shadow Hand.

There is nowhere safer for the injured visitor than Turn Hall. Not even Kingskeep.

Assessment done, they take the woman inside. I catch the attention of my butler and order a wing of my home that I have not entered in years be opened specifically for my surprise guest.

It has been a long time since there’s been a need for lady’s chambers in Turn Hall. They have remained shut since my mother’s death. It has been even longer still since the need for a lady’s maid; my staff are nearly all men. This is not out of preference, but because there are no women in my household who require women servants, and it made sense to leave the town’s supply of employable young misses for houses where they were more needed. 

I am going to have to find a woman. Blast.

We linger in the hallway outside the room long enough for servants to strip the dusty bed linens and replace them with fresh. I dismiss my Men to write up their debriefing reports, and then help Mother Mouth lay the young lady on the bed myself. The only way we figure she will be comfortable is belly-down, her face propped to the side with a feather pillow. 

Once she is installed on the bed, I step back into a corner to remain out of the way. Mother Mouth takes a short breather—she is no longer young; her skin is papery thin and scored with laughter lines, but still glows with vitality—and all this rushing and lifting has winded her. She then ties her silver-streaked hair back and begins the careful work of spreading tinctures and ointments, mixing potions meant to neutralize spells and remove pain before she starts cutting away, with gentle knife work, the meat that has rotted from neglect. 

My staff moves around them in an orchestrated dance, fetching lamps and candles and water in an ewer; bringing in, using, and then removing brooms and cleaning supplies; opening windows and laying a fire in the hearth. I do as I always do, what I am best at doing: I observe.

When Mother Mouth finally sits back, a smear of blood on her forehead where she pushed a stray tendril of hair out of her face, I offer her a handkerchief. It is russet, the color associated with House Turn, my family. She takes it graciously, though she wrinkles her nose at the fineness of the fabric.

“We’ve had this discussion before,” she says. “Good silk should be saved for dressing wounds, and rough cotton for wiping faces and noses.”

“I agree, Mother,” I allow, a smile sitting in the corner of my mouth and trying so very hard to stretch into the rest of it. “However, there are expectations at court, and when one’s work relies on creating a good impression, the silk must be used for snot.”

“And that’s why I’ve no use for court.”

Mother Mouth rises and goes to the bag of medicines she left on the bedside table. She pulls out phials and jars, each neatly labeled in her spiky hand. She is leaving behind tinctures and syrups to add to my young visitor’s wine when she wakes in pain, along with bandages and ointments enough to cover the whole of the vicious patterns on her back several times over. 

“Right, then, my boy,” Mother Mouth says, standing and cleaning her bloody hands at the washstand. “Let the lass sleep it through, and I’ll return in the morning to assess her healing. I tell you, I wouldn’t want to be her right now. Keep her asleep if you’re able, lad. And send for me at once should she turn feverish or her wounds begin to fester and reek,” she finishes. 

“No stitches?” Mother Mouth has sewn each of my Men up at one point or another, myself included. There are none among the Shadow’s Men who do not bear the gratefully earned signature of her needle. It seems odd now that she is not doing the same for our guest.

“No,” Mother Mouth agrees. “The slices that remain open are shallow. Where they are also narrow, there is no need. Where they are wide... ” She shrugs. “I could not make the skin meet over the exposed muscle without tearing it. The rest of the deep cuts have begun to scar already. Better to cover it over with the salve, and with Words, and leave it to nature.”

I nod, well used to this particular healer’s pointed and honest instructions—she is the best within an hour’s ride from my keep, and thus my preferred healer. My Men and I call her Mother Mouth because of her bluntness, her willingness to bully us verbally into obeying her commands, and we always do so with a smile, and to her face. She has another name, but has long since gamely resigned herself to this one. 

“I will reapply both salve and spells personally when it is t-t-time,” I promise.

“Oh now,” Mother Mouth scolds playfully. “None of that, my boy. No need to be nervous. It’s just a woman and a bit of blood.”

“I’m not ne-nervous of her,” I say. 

She pats my arm. “Of course not. You’re a good boy, Master Turn.”

I pretend to bristle at the juvenile endearment, but it secretly pleases me. Mother Mouth has known me my entire life. She pulled both my elder brother and I from our mother. She set my broken arm when Kintyre dared me to climb an orchard tree to the top. She put her hands into my brother’s guts after his first run-in with a goblin brigade and held them in place until the Words of Healing could take hold. She closed my mother’s eyes after a fever took the Lady Turn away. She called my father’s corpse a silly shit while she cleaned it the day he drank himself into a tumble down the foyer staircase and into his own grave. She has more than earned the right to call me her “good boy,” should she so choose. And I always do my best to live up to it.

Mother Mouth packs her small case and takes her leave. When my staff has finished ferrying ewers of both hot and cool water, wine, a modest bowl of broth, fresh candles, towels, my mother’s newly cleaned dressing robe, my mother’s slippers, and my portable writing desk into the room, I dismiss them to their suppers.

One last young lady lingers at the door, and she must be freshly arrived for she does not wear russet livery. I do not know her, and she seems eager to be of help, which is extremely encouraging. She is slim, her hands rough and callused, giving her the appearance of one who looks like she works hard, and her apron is very starched. She resembles Cook—same rigidly marshaled brown hair, same firm lines around her eyes, very competent and very discreet. She waits silently on the threshold, obviously waiting for me to speak first. 

“Hello,” I say. “Yes?”

“Sir,” she says and bobs a curtsy. “My mother sent for me when she heard you had a lady guest, sir. Figured you’d want a girl in, sir.”

“Very good of her to take the initiative. Well come, and well stayed.” I take a moment to go to my portable desk and scribble upon a fresh piece of paper. When the ink is dry, I fold up the note. “Your name, miss?” I ask.

“Neris, sir.”

“Can you read, Neris?”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

“Excellent. Here.” I hold out my hand. In it are a letter and a small sack of gold coins. She takes both.

“I would like you to return to your usual household with this and give both to your mistress. The envelope contains an apology letter to your employer, and this should be enough coin to replace the wages she’s already paid you this week. I would have you here until you are no longer needed at Turn Hall. And I will pay double whatever your current employer offers. Is that acceptable?”

She smiles, and there must be her father, for Cook’s face does not have such fetching dimples. “Oh, yes sir!”

“And I invite you to move your things into the Hall come morning. Unless you have another billet you prefer?” I ask. She shakes her head. “Very well. Ask your mother for Turn-russet livery when you return, and we’ll get you set up in the maid’s quarters. Though, ah, you may be alone there.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark and the quiet, Master Turn,” she says, dropping a curtsy and vanishing in that lovely discreet way of lady’s maids the world over. It’s a vastly underprized skill.

My new guest and I are now alone. 

My skin prickles at the thought of being trapped in a room with a person I know so very little about—I am not used to being the one on poor footing—and I go to the window to try to relieve the pressing sense of claustrophobia. It is silly; she is unconscious and, thanks to the poppy milk, will remain so for a good long while. I have nothing to fear from her.

Still. She is an unknown factor, and I do not like those in the least. 

There is a reason I’m the king’s Shadow Hand. Who better for a spymaster than the man who becomes physically agitated when he feels ignorant? 

The sky outside has turned an ashy blue. Rain is on the horizon, and the breeze is picking up accordingly. I open the sash just enough to allow in the fresh wet air, but not enough for raindrops when they finally start to fall. The puff of breeze against my chest, fluttering my shirt and Turn-russet robe, gives me a false sense of safety—I have an exit if I need one.

The breeze also flutters the heavy velvet drapes. Dust puffs out of the folds and onto the wooden floor just shy of the bed. My mother was of House Sheil, and so much of the décor in her chambers is a deep, dark purple—the throw rugs, the comfortable upholstered chairs by the hearth, the bedding, all of it is patterned with curling designs of lilac and lavender and deepest indigo. It has been years, perhaps a whole decade, since my father had Mother’s chambers shut up. I suddenly realize how much I have missed purple.

The cloud cover is blocking so much of the sun that the room has become gloomy, and the details of the woman hard to catch. I make a second circuit for candles, which I light with a twig from the small fire in the hearth. Then I set the kettle Cook left on the mantelpiece onto the hook attached to the flume and wait for it to boil. A hot drink on a gray day is always a comfort, and the air in my mother’s chambers is dry from being shut up for so long, so the steam will do us both some good. 

Now to take care of this silly fear; I will observe the woman and decipher what I can of her, so that the anxiousness can finally dissipate long enough for me to get some paperwork done. I pull one of the chairs that stand before the fireplace over to the bedside, and settle into the lush padding. Then I look.

The first thing that registers is that she is in pain, despite the sleep brought on by the poppy milk. It is obvious by the creases in her forehead and the set of her jaw. Her hair is matted with sweat and other fluids that I do not wish to consider closely. Perhaps I dismissed Neris too hastily—my guest could certainly do with a wash, if only for her own comfort. But I am not certain that it would not have caused her more agony, so perhaps it is best to wait until the young woman is awake and aware and able to help the maid. 

Beyond that, I have no concept of who she is or where she may be from. Any clues that might have come from her clothing were lost when Bootknife cut them off her. Her ears are pierced, but there are no jewels from which to read her origins or history, no rings, no signets, no torques. How galling! 

Her features resemble those of no family I know, which is impressive, as I have a very good head for faces. Her mouth is a small moue of pain, neither generous of plumpness nor waspish or thin. She has lines around the corners that indicate that she laughs heartily and frequently. Her cheeks are higher than I am used to and smooth, sprinkled with freckles. Her skin is dusky in tone, quite similar to the color possessed by the outdoor laborers from the Flung Isles after a season’s work, but not so reddish. Hers is closer to the hue of well-cared for honeywood, made even more yellow in tone by the Sheil-purple of the blankets surrounding her. Her nose is short, adorable in a way that many women curse for being too childish looking. Her lashes are dark, and her eyes sweep upward at the outer edges.

I can tell by the curve of her exposed back, where it swells into her hips and the sides of her breasts, that she’s never starved, never seen a rough harvest or overlong winter. 

In summary, she must be a well-off merchant’s daughter, and quite possibly yet another merchant’s wife. I would say a nobleman’s, but she cannot be the child of any nobleman I know from court, legitimate or not. 

She could be from another, distant kingdom beyond the borders of Hain, but I have met much of the nobility from Urland and Gadot, as well as a few from Brystal, and she does not bear the trademark of any house that I know; her skin is either too light or too dark, her eyes too round or not round enough, her nose too snubbed or too high, her chin too round. 

In short, the collection of her features does not come together to spell out her parentage.

Infuriating.

And fantastic. I am intrigued, instantly. How long has it been since I have been gifted with such a mystery? And that she was imprisoned by the Viceroy for so long without my knowing he had kidnapped anyone...  was holding anyone at all. It was only an accident of circumstance that she was even rescued, that I even know she exists. The Viceroy had been raiding magical archives and libraries the world over, and when I had put together the picture of the sorts of tomes he was stealing, I ordered my Men to raid and retrieve. That they had also found her was sheer coincidence. 

At least, I believe it is an accident. I cannot imagine any person would allow such agony to befall them for the sake of gaining my pity and entrance to my Hall. Spies usually do not bleed.

I cannot recall the last time something like this happened accidentally in my work, and my heart flutters against my ribs. 

The entire situation is completely astounding. Magnetic. Incredible. And so impotently frustrating that I cannot know more, cannot have my curiosity slaked immediately. I wish she were awake to answer my many questions.

The only thing I can know for sure is that the Viceroy wanted something from her, and she refused to give it to him. I cannot guess what it might have been, for he has the power to take anything he wants—even her, had he so chosen. Mother Mouth did not say anything about signs of a violation, but perhaps she wanted to be delicate while my staff was in the room and means to discuss it with me in the morning. The woman in my mother’s bed is pretty enough; the Viceroy likes the pretty ones. 

To resist the Viceroy for as long as this woman did, to keep her secrets for so many days that the pattern on her back had the time to grow so complex, must have taken real strength of spirit. As much as she must have been screaming, she’d never told him what it was he sought to learn. 

I admire her greatly all of a sudden. There are very few who can keep secrets behind their teeth when Bootknife’s art is in their flesh.

That makes her beautiful to me.

It does not matter how her features are arranged; her will is strong. And, as it was Bootknife she was resisting, I can hope that her morals are also true. I allow myself to follow the soft curve of her pain-paled cheek with my eyes, the delicate protrusion of the tendons in her neck, the place where her breast presses into the blankets and is hidden under her body. I am struck with a sudden swelling of attraction, and I stomp it back viciously.

No. A woman as remarkable as this, unexpectedly arriving at Turn Hall? There is only one explanation—she is for Kintyre. Women like this are always for Kintyre. 

The kettle over-boils. Water foams into the fire with an indignant hiss, bringing me back to gloomy reality, and I make myself a pot of tea. Then I settle back into my chair, my portable desk on my lap and an afternoon’s worth of tedious paperwork stacked on its surface.

The only sounds to break the silence are the sputtering of the candles arrayed around the room, the slow tap of the rain just beginning to fall against the roof of the manor, and the pained, almost inaudible whimpers my guest exhales with each labored breath. 

I dip my quill into my ink pot and add the scratch of a nib on parchment to the quiet symphony of pain.

❧✍❧

“Oh,” the woman whispers, dry lips rasping against the silk pillow casing. “It’s you.”

I have fallen asleep in my chair, and the quiet murmur of her voice yanks me back to wakefulness so quickly that my portable desk clatters to the floor. Ink sprays across the wood and splashes over the Sheil-purple rug beside the bed. I wince. Oh, Mother’s rug! It will take my staff a terrible amount of scrubbing to clean it.

There is nothing I can do about it at the moment, so I right the pot, step around the spreading puddle and toppled papers, and go to her side. 

“Greetings,” I say. “Water?”

I’m not certain how I’ll get the cup to her lips without spilling all over the pillow or forcing her to sit up, which will be a special new agony in and of itself.

She nods and presses upward on her hands, grimacing but holding herself there until I manage to tip the earthenware cup against her mouth. She sips slowly, grunting as her arms tremble. When the water is gone, she flops back down into the pillow and doesn’t hold back the yelp that such an action causes. It makes anger froth beneath the surface of my own skin, to realize that she has learned how to move with such injuries in order to drink. That Bootknife must have made her learn.

And that I have been unable to spare her that pain in Turn Hall. I’ve failed my first task as her guardian already. 

She shivers all over, and my first instinct is to cover her snugly with the blanket. But that would irritate her wounds and allow fibers into the open ones, so instead I put the kettle back on the hook, stoke the fire back to life, and close the windows. Air that was fresh and crisp at sunset has become biting.

She watches it all with eyes that are a very normal, boring shade of muddy green, yet sparkle with keen observation. As I first noted, they are ever so slightly cat-like, turned up at the outside in a manner that I have never seen; though, it is even more pronounced with her eyes open. I have never been on the receiving end of such an intent gaze before. 

She watches the same way that I watch.

I fidget until the kettle hisses, welcoming the excuse to duck out from under her odd gaze. As I pour the boiling water into the bowl my staff has left beside the ewer, mixing in the room temperature water until the heat is bearable, I cannot help but ponder on the strangeness of the young woman’s eyes. 

Perhaps it is about her eyes...  ? I recall that the Viceroy has a sickeningly obsessive fascination with Sir Bevel, who is plain but has eyes such a dark blue that they are an anomaly. The Viceroy often threatens to pluck them out and have them rosined for a cloak brooch. It would be very much like him to pick this woman simply because of the unique almond-shape of her eyes. But, then again, that makes no sense at all, for what would Bootknife have tortured her for if the Viceroy had only wanted to collect—possibly extract—a piece of her?

This cyclone of reasoning is near to making me dizzy. Instead of dwelling on answers I cannot deduce alone and cannot ask for now, I sit on the side of the bed with the bowl and a cloth.

“May I?”

“Sure,” she rasps. “This is so unreal.”

“Your injuries are, in fact, quite real, I’m a-afraid,” I say.

She stares at me for a moment, and then turns her head back into the pillow, purposefully obscuring her expression. For a brief moment, it seems as if her eyes are wet.

“I know,” she mutters into the muffling fabric. “It’s insane, but I know.”

I dip the cloth into the bowl and begin to bathe her back, careful not to oversaturate it. It would not do for excess water to slip down her sides and soak into the bedding beneath her. The ointment has dried into a yellowish crust and must be wiped away carefully before reapplying. The warm water soothes her goose-pimpled skin, and she alternates between soft moans of gratitude and small hisses of pain caused by wounds suddenly being exposed to the air or jarred.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” she grunts as I lean close to concentrate on cleaning around a fanciful curlicue carved into the sweet dimples right above where her back swells into her buttocks. The latter are covered with a blanket to preserve her modesty, and I am careful not to jostle it.

“You’ve never met me before,” I counter without looking up, soaking in every syllable of her speech. Her words are queerly broad. “How can you say that you have never seen me like...  whatever it is that you mean by ‘this.’”

“That’s also the longest sentence I’ve ever heard from you.” 

What a deliciously strange accent! So flat and lacking the jumps and dips that fill the speech of Hain Kingdom’s people. I’ve never heard anything like it before, which both thrills and shocks me. Knowledge is my currency; so how can she hail from a place that I do not know? How can such a place exist, as every clue she gives up suggests? 

I am careful to school my expression, to not appear too thrilled or eager.

“Of course,” I agree, “as you’ve only heard six. Eight, if you count the last one, and this one.”

She turns her face into the pillow and groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Again, ‘this,’” I say, because it’s easier to look at her back and work on her wounds than look her in the face. I am ashamed to be causing her pain. It feels like a stab in my own gut.

Useless old Forsyth, as usual. But Mother Mouth asked me to have her fetched in the morning, not in the middle of the night. So I will muddle through, try my best, and hope that she does not chide me too much for the attempt at playing healer myself.

“Master Forsyth Turn, the king’s Shadow Hand...  boiling his own water and closing his own windows. Elgar Reed would be horrified.”

I feel nauseous immediately. 

Oh no, no, how does she know? No one, save my Men and Mother Mouth, is meant to know. The whole village thinks I am no more than the younger son, left behind to be the Master of Turnshire and surroundings, Lordling of the whole of the small but fertile Lysse Chipping; a man soft and slightly useless. That she knows, and speaks of it so casually... 

A Shadow Hand must be secret above all else. The king will have me turned out—might even have me killed—for failing to maintain this secrecy. How can I function as Hain’s spymaster if I am known?

“Oh,” she says softly when my ministrations stop. “Oh, sorry. Shit. Sorry. I know, I know, it’s not supposed to be talked about. I won’t say anything else. I just meant, you know, you’re the Master of Turn Hall. Shouldn’t a maid be the one with the cloth? Shouldn’t someone be here to open the windows and boil the kettle for you?”

“I am n-no lay-layabout. I am c-capable of do-do-doing it myself,” I say, and I curse all the harder in my head when she cranes her neck around, wincing as the whip-fast movement stretches her wounds. She blinks at me like a stunned owl.

“Did you just stutter?”

“Of c-course n-n-n-not,” I deny, but my words prove themselves liars. I bite my lower lip and scowl, fingers going so tight around the cloth that it creaks and water splashes down my arms, pooling uncomfortably into the bunches of fabric against the insides of my elbows. I hate that feeling.

“Oh my god, you stutter,” she says, and her expression is a mixture of horror and amusement. “Reed never said anything about you stuttering.”

“I do-do-do not stutter,” I snap. 

“Hey, no, it’s cool,” she says, rising up as if to turn to face me, but the motion makes everything in her back pull. She yelps again and flops back down to relieve the pain. “Fuck!” she screams into her pillow. She slams her fist against the mattress, clearly infuriated beyond coherence.

“S-stop,” I say softly, placing a gentle hand on her right shoulder, the least cut up one.

She flinches away from my touch so dramatically that it looks more like a full body spasm.

“Don’t touch me!” she screams.

I flinch myself, springing off the bed to give her the space she so clearly needs.

She goes still, save for her ragged breathing. One of the thin, deep cuts below her left shoulder blade seeps blood. A low coughing sound, muffled by the pillows, fills the air. I realize that she is sobbing.

Oh, Forsyth, you stupid man. You are useless at women.

“P-please s-stop crying.” It sounds as stupid out loud as it did in my head, but I have no other way to convey my concern. Clearly my proximity is unwelcome.

I clench my fists and shove them into the pockets of my house robe, impotent in the face of her misery. Why is it that among spies and the dance of court politics I am assured and suave, but the moment I remove the mask of the Shadow Hand and become simple Forsyth Turn, I am such a useless, stuttering sack of skin? I hate it.

Eventually, the tears wind down and she turns her face to me. Her muddy green eyes have become bright, even though the skin around them is red and swollen.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“Why are you ap-ap-apologizing?” 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable about the stutter. I was just surprised. You never stutter when you’ve got the mask on.”

I only stutter when I am upset or caught off guard. As a child, I stuttered all the time, worse when my older brother teased. But I learned, through sheer force of will, to suppress it. To think about each phrase as I want to say it, to hear it in my head, clear and whole, before letting my tongue taste the words. The Shadow Hand does not stutter because he is a personality I wear, a costume I conceived. I did not conceive him as a stutterer.

I lean down and pick up the bowl. The water has mixed with the ink on the rug, spreading the stain further. My paperwork is also a sodden mess. I will have to begin that report anew. Resentment flares at the thought of having to waste another evening in correspondence, but I cannot blame my guest. It was my own clumsiness that caused them to be on the floor. I should have picked them up right away. Stupid.

 “I’m sorry about scaring you, too,” she said. “I just...  don’t like to be touched. Anymore. Don’t surprise me.”

“I understand. No woman enjoys my touch. I will fetch Neris, your maid,” I say, and turn toward the door to do just that.

“Whoa, no, wait,” she says, and I pause. I take a hesitant step back toward her and her hand shoots out, fingers wrapping around mine. I look down at our twined grip with dumb surprise. I can see her frustration at her inability to move. Warmth blooms against my sternum at the thought that she appears to want to touch me, to physically prevent me from departing. “I didn’t say that. Why would you think that? I just meant that it freaks me out when people touch me and I don’t know it’s going to happen. I never said you have cooties. Stay. Please.” I do not know how to answer. She looks up at me and adds: “You’re the only one I know. I trust you. Please.”

This is enough. I do not know how she seems to know me well enough to trust me, but she does. And I cannot betray that trust. Even though I fear that it might be misplaced. I must do my best not to disappoint her.

“I will stay. I’ll put the kettle on again and finish your back,” I say. She lets go, fingers brushing against the insides of my knuckles, and I clench my tongue between my teeth. I memorize the ghosting sensation, trying not to let it get too far under my skin.

I can hear her shifting, trying to find a comfortable position. “God, do you have any painkillers?”

“I can mix you a draught with poppy milk, but it will make you sleep again.”

“That’s fine,” she says. “Sounds perfect, actually. Fuck, this hurts.”

“That word again.” I turn to face her, leaning back against the mantle as we both wait for the water in the kettle to reheat. 

It is a good thing it is such a large kettle, or I would have had to send someone to refill it by now, and I believe that the young lady’s pain is something she would like as few people to witness as possible. She said she trusts only me. Knows only me, though how she can know me at all is a mystery. Clearly she knows enough to know my deepest secret, and now my deepest shame, but how?

“Fuck?” she says.

“Yes. What does it mean? ‘Fuck’?”

She giggles suddenly. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just heard you swear.”

“It’s an expletive?”

She giggles harder, and I take it for an affirmative.

“And what about the rest of it?” I ask. “The things that you say you know and simply should not. Cannot.”

She sobers immediately. She turns her head away and goes silent, her shoulders becoming rigid. She looks like she is preparing for a blow.

“Ah,” I say. “This is what the Viceroy wanted. And what you would not share.” She stiffens further at his name, but otherwise does not move. I walk across the floor to her side, purposefully clicking the wooden heels of my embroidered house slippers against the boards so as to prevent startling her. “I am going to lay a hand on your shoulder.”

She nods once, and I do it, carefully, palm cupped on her whole right shoulder blade, fingers curved along her neck. She sighs into the touch, and her tension eases.

“He doesn’t know,” she mumbles. “I didn’t tell him.”

“That I am the Shadow Hand?” 

She nods.

“Is that the only thing he wanted to know?”

“No.” Her voice is scratchy and low, so quiet and ashamed that I can barely make out her words. “But I didn’t say anything. Not a thing, after the first day. He never even knew my name.”

“That is something of which to be proud,” I say softly, and I mean it. “Bootknife is not an easy man to defy. I’ve never seen such an elaborate carving as yours. You must have made him very angry.”

“I did.”

“Good girl.”

She snorts. “Loosey.”

Another strange word. “What’s a ‘loosey’?”

“I am. It’s my name. Ell-you-see-why, Lucy Piper.”

“You gift me with your name when all of Bootknife’s attention could not wring it from you?” I ask. The weight of what she has just done nearly sends me to the floor with shock. My knees shake, and I have to put my other hand on the bed stand to remain upright.

“You’ll protect it.”

“I will,” I vow. “I will, Lucy Piper.” I take a moment to clear my throat and try to keep the tears that have sprung into my eyes from falling. What a great thing she has done. This conversation, her bravery, has left me flayed. 

I must turn away, before too much emotion shows on my face. Preparing the promised pain potion is the perfect excuse. Mother Mouth left the concentrated elixir on the bedside table, and it is convenient to turn my back on Lucy Piper as I mix it with a little wine to make it more palatable. Then I help drip some onto her tongue. Lucy Piper drowses.

When the kettle has boiled again, I resume cleaning her back.

Her eyes slip closed just as I have finished. I rinse out the cloth and spread it across what is left of her skin to keep her warm until I can move on to the ointment, and then stand.

“Try to rest,” I say, when the feel of the cloth startles her back to wakefulness.

“Thanks. Hey,” she mutters sleepily, worn out by the pain, both the physical and emotional. “You’re not stuttering anymore.”

“No,” I agree. “I am not.”

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3 | Buy Paperback or eBook (coming 2024)

New Chapters Drop Tuesdays on Wattpad and AO3.

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hello there! I real love your IF🖤 could you tell me how far the story is on patreon (the romances, story, quests)? I really would like to join patreon and support you. And I saw different snippet that are from stories (like where the mc is pregnant or the wife/blade mission), are they yours from patreon (sorry I just feel confused a bit)?

Hi there, thank you so much for your kind words and support, I truly appreciate it! :) As noted in the pinned post, the (Patreon-exclusive) alpha build of the game is currently on Chapter 8, while the demo covers up through the end of Chapter 3, so that should give you an idea of how far along the main story is! As for romances, it's harder to say, because they're progressed both through the main story and through day off interludes; they're certainly farther ahead than the public demo at this point, but not all day off interludes are complete, either! I think the original founding four Shepherds (Blade, Trouble, Tallys, Shery) each have 2-4 (?) day off scenes and all of the other Shepherds have at least 1, though Mimir's is a heavy draft right now and needs to be spruced up a bit. But some of the romances also feel like they've had heavy progression because of what happens during the story missions, as well!

As for the snippets you might have seen floating around lately, those are actually excerpts from the original novels that the game is based on, not the short stories on Patreon: you can read more about those in the tag and in the FAQ! Basically, sometimes I share little snippets from the original novels when the mood strikes me, but the short stories on Patreon are entirely different and focus on individual characters from the cast and giving more insight into them--they're not romance-focused and don't usually heavily involve the MC except by reference or implication. Thanks again, and I hope that helps!

[ghoulpepperv]

I decided to do this for Lamia from @weregoingtokillthequeen!

She's actually a changeling in her original story, but I'll probably have to make her a drow as a Tav.

I still have to wait until I can get my own copy of the game to actually create her and get screenshots.

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List

What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character?  (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)

General

Where can your Tav be recruited?  Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region?  Or are they not recruitable until a later act? She'd be at the Emerald Grove and she'd be disguised as a wood elf. There's a personal reason she often chooses to disguise herself as a wood elf. She would have also read the room and realized a wood elf would be the best fit for the space.

Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav? At first, they would be fine with her presence. She's just some wood elf, right? When/if they discover she's a changeling, there'd be differing opinions on if she should stay. Hesitant but lets her stay: Karlach, Wyll, Astarion (he's curious where this goes), Gale (kinda wants to study her because hanging out with a changeling is rare), and Halsin Wants her gone: Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Jaheira, and Minthara

Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions? Astarion: "Careful with this one. He's got moxie, but that might also mean he'll kill you in your sleep." Gale: "He's got the air of a former gifted kid about him. He'll be desperate for approval. We can use that." Karlach: "She's a like a golden retriever. I already love her." Lae'zel: "A little standoffish and she could snap my neck in an instant. I don't see any reason not to want her around." Shadowheart: "She's definitely hiding something, but aren't we all? As long as her secrets don't get us killed, she can keep them." Wyll: "The Blade of Frontiers, huh? I figured he'd be taller. If you want him to come along, I won't complain. He seems like a good egg." Minthara: "You might want to really think this over. Unless you want to constantly test your food for poison." Halsin: "I have heard nothing but good things about him. We'd be stupid to leave him behind." Minsc: "He's not the sharpest, but he's useful. We could probably talk him into anything, too...." Jaheira: "I'm afraid I've never heard of her before, but if Karlach is sold on her, so am I."

What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval? She likes it when the PC takes charge and is more forceful. She enjoys doing things because it'll be funny or entertaining. She always wants a reward for doing a good deed. She also likes it if the PC lets her steal or gives her gifts. She just doesn't like it when the PC hurts children or is mean to them, especially orphans.

Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions? She'll stick around for most things. You have to really target her to get her to leave, like constantly undermining her or insulting her. She's pretty sensitive to insults. You can kick her out when you find out her secret.

Do they have any secrets that can be revealed?  What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light? She's a changeling. When she first appears, she's pretending to be a wood elf. When you find out, it can go badly. You can see through her if the PC has True Sight or Volo’s Ersatz Eye. Even if she's in disguise, if the PC has Volo's eye, they will always see her as she really is. If the PC's relationship is high enough, she'll eventually come clean, especially if the PC romances her. The PC can talk her into telling everyone the truth. If she's knocked unconscious or killed, she will lose her disguise. If brought back from the dead, the jig will be up.

Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes? She recently escaped from prison before being taken aboard the Nautiloid. She's still a fugitive. If her disguise falters for any reason at Baldur's Gate, she's at risk of being arrested. If the PC wants to, they can turn her in and have her arrested. This will turn her from ally to enemy. The rest of the party might judge you, too.

What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp?  How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again? Stay in camp: You really wanna go out there without me? I'm just saying, you're safer with me watching your back. And if you have Scratch or owlbear, she'll add: At least I have the dog/owlbear here to entertain me while I wait. Adventuring Again: Yes! I was about to go crazy from the boredom.

Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight? Her status as a changeling ruffles feathers. Depending on how things play out, tensions can get worse.

Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game? Allie the Dragonborn who is also in @weregoingtokillthequeen! Allie escaped prison with her. Paloma Blancheflower, her childhood friend and an actual wood elf. They grew up together. She can reveal more about Lamia's past, including why she often picks a wood elf form so often. Gwenna (half-giant/half-fairy) and Shirley (half-orc) are two guards from the prison who are hunting her down. The PC can run into them at Baldur's Gate and they'll tell them that they're looking for an escaped changeling. The PC can turn her in to them if they know Lamia's a changeling. The PC can also help hide Lamia from them.

Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)  There would be a few unique stories the PC can get out of her. It'd be throughout the game where things can remind her of something from her past, especially since she knows so many weirdos. She's lived a colorful life.

Story Specific

How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor? "They seem to be the only one who knows what's going on. It doesn't hurt to listen to what they have to say."

How do they advise the player character on Raphael? "It's tempting, but be on your guard. You always have to keep an eye out for the fine print with devils."

How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character? "So, is his bite actually worse than his bark? What? I'm just asking. He always did seem like the kind of guy who likes to sink his teeth into a full bodied drink." And when the PC doesn't laugh. "...Nothing? Really? Hm." She would then go on to ruin Astarion's life with vampire puns and jokes.

How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them? "I didn't know you were into that sort of thing. Duly noted." Devnote: She's into it.

How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power? "So... how does it feel? Painful? Powerful? You know, if you ever have any extra, you could toss them my way."

Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently? She'll stay despite what you pick. She won't be excited about the goblins, but it won't chase her off.

What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party? She'll be at her tent with a drink in hand, looking for someone to chat up.

Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?  Any comment she'd make is telling the PC she approves. All of their companions are hotties, she gets it.

Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander? "You're lucky I don't kill you where you stand. Why would you do that?! Gods! My feelings are a little hurt right now. You absolute jerk."

How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar? "Huh. You know, I used to know a guy who was also into licking spiders. Never thought I'd meet another person whose into it. ...Want me to hook you guys up?" If you do it a second time: "Is this a thing I just don't get? Like some kind of psychedelic?"

What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown? When she first sees him: "I can't hate him when I see how much misery he brings to so many. It's a little endearing." Suggest she volunteer: "Wait, you want me to go up there? Oh, no, I'm here to watch someone else have a bad time." When you send her up: "You best sleep with one eye open from now on."

Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin?  How is Orin's deception revealed?  How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal? Orin actually leaves her alone since she's a fellow changeling. It's too much of a mindfuck.

How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn? She understands a desire for power. Power = protection. But she'd miss old Astarion. She'd much prefer that he remains Spawn Astarion. She'd be hesitant to let the 7000 spawn go. If the PC talks to her, they could persuade her that it'll be okay.

How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer?  Can they offer to become one themselves?  Does their reaction change if they’re romanced?  It'd depend on the play through. You can teach her to be more selfless and, in that case, she would offer to do it. If you don't encourage her to be more empathetic, she'd be far too selfish to sacrifice herself. She'd do everything to talk the PC out of it though. There has to be "a better way." However, if they go through with it, she won't abandoned them: "We made it this far under weirder circumstances. I'll get use to... whatever this is."

How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them? She'd try to help. "Who hasn't had a murderous thought or two, huh? Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but we'll figure this out. Unless you murder me before we do, of course."

How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira? "I didn't realize you hated bards so much. You could have just told her to leave, y'know?" When she finally gets serious: "You must be scared. I would be, at least. If it helps, I'll try to keep a closer eye on you, keep you from murdering again."

If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2? "Well, this isn't the first time someone I've dated tried to kill me." Once she's taking it seriously: "I don't know what any of this is, but I'm going to help you. I'm not that easy to kill so you're not gonna scare me off. We're going to get through this."

Romance

Is your Tav a romanceable character?  Are there any specific requirements to romancing them? Indeed, she is.

Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough? If approval is high enough, she'd approach the PC. The PC could also higher the approval rating through flirting.

Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option? Polyamorous.

Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party? She definitely would. The PC can choose to sleep with her or enjoy cuddling under the stars. If approval is high enough, she'd confess that she's a changeling at the party. If the PC knows she's a changeling, they can decide to have her in her real changeling form when they're together. The PC could also ask her to keep her wood elf form. It kind of hurts her feelings though. (She'll get over it.)

Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take? The PC can get her to start going down a more righteous path, moving away from her criminal behavior. They can also leave room for some criminal shenanigans, but teach her to be a better person overall. Or they can encourage her to go full criminal queen-pin and commit even darker deeds. The PC/Lamia end game can be Lamia rebuilding a life in Baldur's Gate as an upstanding citizen or as a petty criminal, or you can run a criminal empire together.

How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them? She would be petty as hell. She's very sensitive and she'd probably hate whoever the PC chose. She'd insult them and try to do the "Fine, you can just be jealous of me living my best life without you" to the PC. But she would not be living her best life. She'd be hiding the fact she wants to go cry and eat a bunch of comfort food. If the PC doesn't leave her for Gale: Gale will talk about having made her some kind of cake or apple-based sweet because she "seemed depressed." If the PC asks her about it, she'll pretend everything is fine.

What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test?  "The heart is fraught, so let us begin with the joyous. When is Lamia happiest?" 1. While swimming in the ocean. 2. When she has a lot of money. ★ 3. Camping in nature. 4. When she's with loved ones. ★ "Many things delight the heart, but only one makes it sing. Tell me, what does she desire more than anything?" 1. Wealth. ★ 2. A harem. 3. Love. ★ "Life is a difficult and tumultuous thing. with every smile, a tear often follows. What is Lamia's greatest regret?" 1. Getting caught and thrown in jail. ★ 2. Becoming a criminal. 3. Letting Paloma down. ★ (Only appears if you've met Paloma.) 4. Stealing from a wealthy Baldurian couple.

If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin? She's all for it. She'd be down to get with him, too. But she'd give the PC space to explore their relationship with Halsin without her.

How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor?  Haarlep? She wouldn't be angry, just a little disappointed. Because, really? REALLY?

Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no? Yes, she would. She'd also be down for Halsin to join.

What are Tav’s plans for the future?  Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in? She's happy to go where the PC goes. If they want marriage, she's in. If they don't, she's happy as long as they're together. As for what they do, it'll depend on the path the PC chooses for them.

Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au! I first created her for my very first DnD game I was in. Nobody ever figured out she was a changeling to the point where I just had her drop her disguise. I wanted to see what would happen. Absolutely no one took notice or said anything about it, including the DM.