#mythrae writes

[mythrae]

On the Lowest

Summary: Sworn to secrecy, you and Gale relieve a bit of stress during a midnight tryst. (aka Gale Dekarios fucks)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do NOT interact), smut without plot

Author's Notes:

Thank u all for voting in my tumblr poll I hope this is to your liking

Tav is described as having female genitalia

This might be a little OOC for Gale but I definitely see him as a switch kind of guy, he's just a little more of a top in this bc ya girl is a bottom

I haven't written smut in a LONG time and this isn't beta'd so please be kind

Click here to read on AO3 :)

Usually, you never mixed your business with pleasure.

It was a dangerous game, one you knew all too well. You found yourself often thinking with what’s between your legs rather than between your ears, and in an environment where you’re working closely with others, it can lead to many awkward situations with your companions. So awkward, in fact, you feared that someone could potentially leave your party over it.

But there was something about the Wizard of Waterdeep that made you want to risk it all.

You had taking a liking to Gale ever since he joined your party. Kind, intelligent, powerful, he was a formidable ally, and a good companion to keep around.

But he first intrigued you in that way while fighting through the Shadow Cursed lands, after a particularly tough battle. Gale had made a comment to you about how he read that a brush with danger may have an effect on one’s desire for… other forms of stimulation.

He understood when you told him that you weren’t looking for a long-term partner, especially with the dubious task of removing the tadpole in the forefront of your mind. But, as long as the two of you kept it a secret, you supposed there was nothing wrong with having a little fun and releasing some of your stress.

***

While the rest of the camp slept soundly at the Last Light Inn, you you found yourself tip toeing out into the night. Placing the pixies bell in your pocket, just in case, you walked on the outskirts of the safe haven, until you found the make-shift bridge made from rocks. You leaped across, being cautious to not slip and fall into the rushing water below. 

As you entered the Shadow Cursed lands, you cautiously made your way up the stairs, hand on your weapon just in case. You approached the abandoned house, the perfect size for 

“Hello?” You called out, hoping and praying no one else was there.

You approach the bedroom, pulling back the heavy curtain that took the place of the door. Gale was already lying on the bed in his camp clothes, a small candle burning on the nightstand next to him.

“Ah, there you are.” He said, sitting up on the mattress and standing to greet you. “I was starting to worry the Shadow Curse had gotten you.”

You reach in your pocket and show off the pixie’s bell as you stand in front of him. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest — it’s been a while since you’ve done anything like this. Would tonight make you feel satiated? Or regretful?

“A wise choice.” He commended as you stuffed it away. “You never know what dastardly creatures could be out here, you know.”

“What, like you?”

“Precisely.”

He wasted absolutely no time, leaning in to press his lips against yours. He kissed you feverishly, like a starving dog lunging for a piece of raw meat. You could taste the fine wine from dinner left on his lips, and you felt yourself slowly getting drunk off him. Your knees grew weak as you feel his hands rest at your hips, your desire slowly starting to build between your legs.

You rested your hands at the nape of his neck, a shaky sigh escaping his mouth as your fingertips trailed down his spine. Hells, you knew the man was touch-starved, but you didn’t realize how badly…

You nibbled at his lower lip, enticing a soft moan from the wizard, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. He pulls you closer to him, and you can feel his arousal straining through his trousers, begging to be freed.

He broke the kiss, panting heavily. “Lie back.”

You followed his command, falling back on the soft mattress as you gazed upon his face in the candlelight. 

Dare you say, he looked very handsome kneeling in between your legs.

His fingers made light work of your trousers, untying the laces and pulling them off swiftly to reveal your underclothes. He placed a soft kiss on the thin fabric, playfully nudging at your clit with his nose, sending a dull wave of pleasure rolling through your body. You heard him breathe in deeply, taking you for a bit of a surprise as you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Getting a whiff of my natural musk, are you?” 

Gale let out a light chuckle, tugging off your underwear with his teeth to expose your fragrant heat to him. “Darling, there’s nothing I need more.”

Lifting your legs to rest on top of his shoulders, his mouth is on you in an instant. He couldn’t wait another moment, he had to taste you now.

You feel his wet tongue delving between your folds, lapping hungrily at your essence. Your fingers snake through his locks and grip tightly, the coils already tightening in your lower belly. Gods, how long had it been since anyone had touched you like this, let alone tasted you? You weren’t sure, getting lost in the divine sensation of Gale burying his face in you.

Whatever he was doing with his tongue must be enchanted, the way he’s making you feel right now.

Your breath hitched as you sensed two of his fingers toying at your entrance, his brown eyes looking to yours for permission. You nodded, biting your lip, as he gently pushed them inside you. A moan slipped from your lips, enticing him to move his fingers faster, more rapidly, as your eyes rolled back in your head.

Gods, this is too fucking good, you thought, tightening your grip in his hair and almost pulling Gale out from between your legs.

But the wizard was much stronger, the fingers of his free hand wrapped around your hip and keeping you in place. His ministrations continued as you felt him suckle at your clit, your hips bucking his face in response.

“Gale…” you moan softly, afraid that even though you were out of earshot, the others would still hear you.

His mouth moved away from your folds, “Yes, dear? What is it?”

The ache in between your legs intensified. His two fingers thrusting inside your sex weren’t enough to satisfy you. 

No, you needed all of him.

“I need you. Inside me.” You stammered, embarrassed to beg for him out loud.

“Ah ah, use your words,” he demanded, his fingers slipping out of you. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You…your cock.” You confessed, bashfully.

“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing your sex one final time. “Eager, aren’t we?”

His hands move to both your thighs, lifting them from his shoulders and pushing them back onto your chest. He stood over you, quickly stripping himself of his camp clothes. You watched him intently, your eyes gazing upon his form. He was lean, but fit, almost as if you were looking at the body of a God. With the sigil in his chest glowing bright, it would be easy to mistake him for one.

As you watched him slip off his trousers, you were a little shocked at how... well endowed Gale was. You had a feeling he would be, but to see it with your own two eyes was quite the treat.

He held on to the base of his cock, stroking it as he lined himself up to your slick entrance. He looked to you, searching for your consent to sink himself in you.

You don't hesitate, nodding quickly, nearly pleading with him to fuck you already.

His slowly slides himself in your wetness, both of you letting out a delighted sigh as the two of you became one. His hands grabbed your hips, digging into the flesh as he sheathes himself in you. He didn't break his gaze with you for a single moment, his eyes growing darker the deeper he went.

"Don't be gentle," you whisper as he fills you entirely for the first time.

He lets out a groan, his breath hot with desire.

You hear him mutter something under his breath, but before you can make out what he said, he leans down, pressing a kiss on your forehead before he thrusts himself back out, only to snap his hips into yours with full force.

Nine Hells, he's like an animal.

You cry out as he pounds you relentlessly, skin slapping on your sensitive nub over and over again. The same magic that enchanted his mouth and fingers must have been at work again, the way he nearly had you at your climax so quickly. He knew it too, a small smile forming at his open lips as he reached for a clothed breast, wrinkling your shirt even further as he kneads it in his hand.

Your eyes closed tight as you turned your head away, the pleasure taking you to a different realm entirely. Sweat rolled down his brow as he continued to rock into you, his hands moved to cradle your face and spinning it back to face him.

"Look at me," he ordered, "I want to see you fall apart."

You locked eyes with him as the coils in your lower belly continued to tighten, your body beginning to shake as the hot white feeling welled up, begging to explode. He kept on hitting that sweet spot deep within you, over and over again...

You took his thumb in your teeth as he rubbed it against your lips, sucking on the digit as your eyes still focused on him. You felt his hips began to stutter, he was close to his own release. Your teeth scraped against the pad of his thumb, inciting a gasp from his lips as he bucked in response.

Oh, hells, you were done for.

You felt your walls quiver around him as you finally gave in to your climax, hot waves of pleasure coursing through your body as your vision went blurry. Gale's thumb slipped out of your mouth as he felt you around him, pulling himself out of you as you felt his hot seed pooling on your lower stomach.

The two of you panted loudly as you came down from your conjoined release, holding each other's gaze. His eyes were no longer darkened by lust, but looked rather... warm. As if he was looking upon a long lost lover.

The thought made your cheeks flush for a moment, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You didn't have time for romance, for relationships, not with the fear of ceremorphosis at the front of your mind. Removing the mind flayer tadpole was your only priority.

And yet... the thought of Gale holding you close at night didn't seem like the worst possible outcome.

"Are you all right, dear?" He asked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear.

"I'm fine," you replied, leaning your head in the palm of his hand. "That was... wonderful."

He smiled, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb reverently.

"But don't forget, this stays between us, all right? Keep it on the down low."

"On the lowest, darling." He smiled, moving his hand to create an X over the orb in his chest. "You have my word."

***

“Thou hast now a bosom companion.” The voice of Withers wakes you from your slumber with a jolt. “Take care that thou art not distracted on thy quest, seeking the comforts of the flesh.”

A moment passes between the two of you. You’re wondering as to why Withers was standing right above your tent, let alone why he would seek you out in the first place.

Then, the words of his message become clear in your mind.

“… excuse me?” You ask, bewildered as to how he would know what happened between you and Gale the night before, especially when they weren't even at camp when it happened.

“Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone.”

Without another cryptic word, Withers turns and stalks away, leaving you alone to your very confused thoughts. There was only one response you could give to him:

“… okay, Bone Man.”

[mythrae]

Request -> something brief and sweet on braiding Dammon’s hair? ♥️

🫡 🫡 🫡 roger that!!!

and thank you so much for the request! <3

this is set in post-game world where Tavs can romance Dammon because it's truly what he deserves (also I put this pic here bc you can really see the red in his hair and I think it looks hot)

“Why do you never wear your hair down?”

The question fell from Tav’s lips before realizing they said it out loud. They were sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Dammon brushing out his long, blonde hair that reached just past his shoulders. Every morning, he always took great care to make sure each knot was detangled before tying it up in his usual bun. His swift, easy motions show that he's been doing it for many years, keeping his method the same each time.

And every morning, Tav watched, paying close attention to their lover’s routine.

“Just don’t want it to get in my face while I’m working,” he replied, placing his hair brush on the vanity in front of him. “Plus, I'm not really a fan of the smell of burnt hair. Rather unpleasant, if you ask me.” He chuckled lightly.

Tav tried to imagine the tiefling’s hair in any other style, but nothing specific came to mind. It was either up in a bun or let down, which they only had the privilege of seeing right before they go to bed.

“Is that bun the only style you know how to do?” 

“‘Fraid so.” He lifted his hands to the crown of his head, tying his hair tightly in a ponytail. “Never really had anyone tell me how to take care of it, other than to wash and brush it out.” 

“Have you ever worn it in a braid?”

He chuckled lightly, “Can’t say I have. Though I think my fingers might not be able to move like that anymore.” He looks down at his hands, rough and calloused from years in the forge. They definitely weren’t as nimble as they were when he was younger.

“Well, can I do it for you?” They asked eagerly, “I think. you'd look rather handsome with one.”

“Go ahead.” He said with a smile.

Tav scooted backwards and spread their legs, inviting Dammon to sit in front of them with a pat on their thighs. He obliged, leaning forward a bit to give them some room to work with his ponytail.

They have felt his hair between their fingers countless times before – fine, straight, golden locks with hints of auburn, always soft to the touch. Tav took his ponytail in their hands, sectioning the hair into three strands before crossing them over each other. They tried their best to keep their motions tight and precise, pulling on the strands ever so gently, so none of them would fall out during Dammon’s day at the forge.

Facing away from Tav, the tiefling’s eyes were closed shut, his shoulders relaxing as he felt his partner’s hands in his hair. It was no secret to them that he enjoyed having his hair played with, especially when the two of them were between his sheets. But the way they were touching his hair now felt like something completely new to him. The intimacy of someone he cares for so deeply helping him with his morning routine, one he’s done for years and years, one he’s done all by himself.

It made him fall in love with them even more than he already was.

“Aaaaand done!” Tav smiled, securing the end of their lover’s hair. “What do you think?”

Dammon stared at himself in the mirror as he reached for his hair, holding it out so he could see what Tav had done. He could see them in the mirror's reflection, eagerly waiting for his response.

He smiled as he looked upon their work, his hair perfectly entwined in a beautiful braid. He’d never seen his hair like this, and he was surprised with how much he liked seeing it in this style. In fact, he almost preferred his hair pulled back like this.

But he mostly liked it because it was his lover that created it.

“I love it, Tav.” He turns his head, planting a kiss on their cheek. “Thank you.”

From that moment on, every time Tav would spend the night with him, Dammon would always ask them to braid his hair in the morning.

[mythrae]

Invisible String

Part Two: Clues I Didn't See

Summary: As if by fate, Divya and Dammon are reunited. They both wish it was under better circumstances.

Word Count: 3.8K-ish

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), blood/injuries, otherwise some nice fluff

Author's Notes:

sorry this took me so long to write I got ADHD

click here to read pt 1!

click here to read on ao3!

Where's Dammon?

That was the first and only thing on Divya’s mind as she woke up in her tent, all alone.

The last thing she remembered from the night before was resting her head against his strong, broad chest, the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep. She enjoyed her night with him, truly, but now she was worried that inviting him back to her tent was a foolish thing do.

Hells, she thought, did I say anything stupid last night? She tried to think back and recollect her conversations with Dammon, but nothing stood out in particular. Everything between them seemed… normal.

Did… did I fall asleep while he was talking to me?

“Oh Gods, strike me down, please…” she muttered embarrassingly, opening the flap to her tent to see that the sun was already risen, shining bright in the sky.

As she drowsily stumbled out to the campground, she noticed that she was the last member of the party to wake up. In fact, everyone else already had their belongings packed, camp clothes changed, and ready for whatever adventure the new day would bring them. 

She stretched her out body, doing anything she could to wake herself up, when she heard the familiar voice of her fiery friend calling out to her.

“Hey, Div! Come here!” Karlach motioned her over.

Still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Divya trudged over to her companion’s tent, praying to whatever God would listen that this wasn't about her midnight visitor.

“Say, I couldn’t help but spy Dammon leaving your tent earlier this morning."

Oh, Nine Hells...

"What fun did you two get into last night?” Karlach leaned in, wearing a shit-eating grin, “Was he… you know? A good shag?”

“Karlach!” Divya almost shouted, causing Scratch's ears to perk up, “You can’t just ask me about my business like that!”

“Oh, come on soldier, it’s just a bit of morning banter, that’s all!”

“You’re one to talk, Karlach.” Astarion chimed in from his own tent, not once glancing up from the book in his hands. “Let’s not forget what you said about what you’d do to Wyll if your internal engine was fixed…”

“Oi, okay, we get it!” The fiery tiefling fussed at the pale elf, lifting her hands up in surrender, “Fine. What happened last night stays between the two of you.”

“Anyways,” she continued, hands lowering down to her hips, “if you’re wondering why Dammon left so early, I believe Zevlor wanted all the tieflings to leave as soon as dawn broke so they could use as much daylight as possible to travel. At least, that’s what I heard him telling one of the others last night.”

Oh, so I didn’t completely embarrass myself? Well, thank the Gods!

“Hopefully they have a safe journey,” Divya replied. “Hells knows they’ve been through enough already.”

“Indeed, they have,” she heard a deep, burly voice reply from behind. When she turned around, she saw that Halsin was approaching her. He must had stayed the night in camp for him to be here so early in the day. He stood in front of the two tiefling women, casting his shadow on their forms.

“I trust you enjoyed your evening?" He continued, "After all your efforts, it was well deserved.

“Oh, I think she definitely enjoyed it, all right.”

Divya wished Karlach wasn’t literally on fire so she could deliver a swift kick to her shin.

Unphased by the woman's banter, Halsin continued.

“It may be some time before you are afforded another such night - there is much to be done, and I promised I would help you however I could.”

As Halsin continued to speak to the party about traveling to Moonrise Towers, she couldn't help but worry about Dammon and the other tieflings. Sure, they were a tough bunch, but to make it through the Shadow Cursed lands that Halsin was speaking about... it seemed a daunting task, even for her.

Will the others make it? What about the children? Will Dammon be okay?

She tried to shake these thoughts out of her mind, but it was no use. Divya found herself unable to focus on anything else.

***

“You there! Step forward and keep your hands off your weapons!”

There was never really much commotion at the Last Light Inn, so when Dammon heard one of the Harpers shouting, his interest was piqued.

He and the other tiefling refugees hadn’t intended to stay there long, in fact, they had planned to be in Baldur’s Gate by now. However, their caravan was ambushed by members of the Absolute’s cult. Some of them were captured and taken to Moonrise, some of them were killed, and only some of them were lucky enough to get away with their lives. Thankfully, they found the Harpers and the inn when all hope seemed to be lost.

“Easy, she’s with me.” Another Harper responded.

Must’ve ran into them while out in the Shadowcurse, he thought. He didn’t blame these trespassers for wanting to tag along with the Harpers, especially after all the tieflings went through.

Dammon’s makeshift forge in the barn of Last Light was a bit ways away from the entrance to their current safe haven, so he couldn’t make out who these refugees — or intruders — might be. He watched as Jaheira strolled over to the party, her gaze focused on the woman who stood in front of the group.

A warm glow emitted from the druid's hands, followed by a burst of green energy surrounding her and the party's leader. Before she could even process it, the intruder's legs were entangled in a growth of vines, holding her in place.

The woman scoffed, clearly annoyed with Jaheira's cold welcome. “Just this once, I wish people would simply say hello.”

Oh hells, he know that voice anywhere.

Divya?

“Hello,” Jaheira replied to the tiefling monk, a sarcastic smile wiped across her face.

“Look," Divya begged, "Can you at least explain to me why you’re doing this?”

Dammon watched closely as Jaheira pulled a curious-looking jar out of her pocket. Inside, a disgusting pale creature squirmed and writhed in it's tiny enclosure.

An illithid tadpole.

He's heard the Harpers speak about them, briefly. That the leaders of the Absolute cultists were infecting people with the tadpoles to eventually turn them into mind flayers. The cult members called the contaminated "True Souls," for they can hear the voice of their God in their heads. Sounded like something from an awful fairy tale, but seeing as that Elturel could fall into Avernus, almost nothing surprised him anymore.

Jaheira extended her arm out to Divya, holding the parasite's jar close to her head. In an instant, there was a connection between her and the tadpole. He could hear the creature banging aggressively against the glass walls, as her brow knit in pain as she held her head in her hands.

So… she was infected? Dammon thought.

“Please!" She cried out in agony, "I am not… a True Soul…” 

He watched as Divya struggled to speak, the tadpole in the jar clearly being the source of her struggle. Jaheira did not seem to feel any sympathy for her, just shaking her head as she held up a signal in her other hand. In a heartbeat, the Harpers standing near her had their crossbow drawn, aimed and ready to strike…

He wanted to stop them in that moment, but he was scared. He was only a refugee himself, after all. They could easily turn the crossbow on him.

But he knew Divya. He knew her as the woman who helped save the Emerald Grove, the one who took down the leaders of the Goblin Camp. She wasn't some monster who was here to sabotage them. If anything, he knew she was here to save them.

As soon as he had gathered up the courage to say something, he saw that a little red tiefling beat him to it.

“STOP!”

He watched as Mol ran to Divya's side, arms outstretched as if to save her from the Harper's wrath.

She pleaded with Jaheira to spare the tiefling monk, sharing how she not only saved the Emerald Grove, took down the goblins, but also saved two of her friends. She went in great detail to share how Arabella was rescued from Kagha and her deadly viper, and how Mirkon had been saved by a flock of harpies.

Hells, Dammon didn't even know she had saved the children. No wonder Mol was sticking out her neck to keep Divya alive.

“I pretty much trust her with my life.” Mol finished, giving Divya a genuine, warm smile.

Jaheira looked to Divya, then back to Mol, then back to Divya once more. Dammon could see the two sides going at war in the druid's mind. He knew her priority was to save as many people as she could from the cult of the Absolute, but it would be extremely risky to allow a tadpole-infected person to stay with the others.

Finally, with an exasperated sigh, the magic in her hands faded away, causing the vines to retreat from Divya's ankles. She had earned the druid's trust... for now.

“Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.”

As the Harpers were given orders from Jaheira to stand down, he watched Divya's shoulders relax. She had found refuge at the Last Light Inn. And she knew her party was thankful they didn't have to camp in the Shadow Cursed lands at night.

Dammon chuckled to himself, finally walking their way. “And here I thought Jaheira was gonna serve you up for dinner tonight.”

Divya’s head swiveled so fast in his direction, he was worried she had pulled a muscle.

“Dammon!” She shouted, unable to hide her excitement as she ran into his open, strong arms.

He held her tightly in his embrace as she wrapped her arms around his neck, rocking her from side to side. The tip of her tail found his as they wrapped tightly around each other, bringing them even closer together. As his rested his chin on top of her head, he caught a whiff of her scent — one he had longed to smell again after the night they shared together — and as it filled his nostrils, and he felt his knees nearly go weak. 

Oh, how he’d missed her.

“What are you doing here?” Divya asked, her feet barely touching the ground as he held her. “I thought you would all make it to Baldur’s Gate by now!”

"Trust me, I did too..." He trailed off, lowering her back to the ground, his arms wrapped loosely around her. "Our caravan was attacked. Us tieflings here are the only ones that survived. Some were captured, and...well..."

"Oh Gods, Dammon," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I feel the worst for Rolan, honestly." Dammon continued, "Cal and Lia were taken as hostages. I suppose they're at Moonrise Towers. Gods know what they're going through over there."

"Hells... we'll find them, I promise." She assured him, reaching her thumb to brush gently against his cheekbone. "No matter what it takes."

She met his steely blue gaze, sending a warm shiver down her spine. Gods, it felt so good to be back in his arms...

"Um, not to interrupt such a tender moment between you two, but..."

"Ah, Karlach!" Dammon smiled to greet her, feeling Divya's arms slide off of his shoulders. "How's the good ol' engine of yours?"

"It still runs hot, but I have some infernal iron that you can tamper with to help me out. If you're willing, of course."

"More than willing," Dammon replied, motioning to his forge in the barn, "Seek me out after you've rested for a bit, and we can talk a bit more about it."

"Oh, I know you'll be making up for lost time with this one right here," She nodded to Divya, "This one has been worried about you like crazy."

"KARLACH!"

The fiery tiefling stifled a laugh as she watched her companion's face turn bright red. "What? You don't want him to know how anxious she was thinking she'd never see you again — or Gods forbid, you didn't ever want to see her. And to think, it's only been a little more than a ten-day since we've seen you at the tiefling party."

"And why would I ever think that?" Dammon half smiled, looking at Divya burying her face in his shoulder. His hand rested on her lower back, gently rubbing it with his knuckles.

"Ah, I think that's enough teasing the poor girl for one day, I suppose." Karlach finally yielded. "Besides, I think Jaheira wants to speak to us. Something about receiving a blessing from the Shadow Curse."

"I'll be there in a moment." Divya replied, her voice muffled from hiding in Dammon's clothed body. As soon as she was sure Karlach had walked away, she revealed herself, her cheeks still flushed.

"It'll be all right, Divya." Dammon comforted her, giving her a light squeeze with his arm. "Go, join the others. I'll seek you out soon."

***

The tieflings refugees really never seemed to catch a break.

After Divya and her party arrived, so did another unexpected guest — Flaming Fist Marcus, along with an army of winged horrors. They fought hard to capture Isobel and take her to Moonrise Towers, but the refugees at Last Light fought harder, killing all the intruders, without any casualties on their end. Most of those that fought were injured, but it was nothing that a cleric or two couldn’t fix.

Divya was injured pretty badly, but still wore a grin on her face as she helped lead the others to the makeshift infirmary on the inn's first floor. Her pained smile was a dead giveaway to those who knew her that she hurt more than she was letting on, but her party didn't dare comment on it. She was stubborn when it came to matters like this, and they all knew better than to bother her when she was assisting others.

“Divya, please. Rest a moment.” Dammon called to her, watching her carefully from the inn's entrance, “You’re going to make your injuries worse.”

He could see that she had been injured, the fabric of her uniform slashed apart and soaked in blood around her stomach and chest. Whether or not it was her own blood, he didn't know. But what he did know was that she needed medical attention, fast.

“What are you talking about?" She nearly snapped at the infernal mechanic, "I’m fine!”

"Divya-"

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the injured refugees accidentally crashed into her.

She stumbled as she wailed out in pain, followed by collapsing, hard, on the wooden floor of the inn. She tried to put herself back on her feet, but her arms gave out, falling back to the ground again.

Dammon was at her side in a heartbeat, positioning himself underneath her so he could pick her up in one smooth motion, cradling her weak body in his arms.

“Come here, dear.” Dammon whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Let me take care of you."

He hastily carried her to the barn where he kept his forge, walking up the stairs that led to the attic. He held her tightly as he walked up the stairs, fearful that he would slip out of his grasp. Her only signs of life were her heavy breathing and the tight grip she had on his tunic.

The door to the attic was slightly ajar, so he was able to enter with little effort. His space was humble, a few of his belongings scattered about the loft, along with a small table and set of chairs. It wasn't a space he spent much time in, so he felt no need to decorate. He set her down gently on his own bed, propping up a pillow under her head to keep her comfortable.

“How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes filled with worry as hers stayed shut, "Are you okay?"

She exhaled heavily, slowly opening her eyes. "Dammon... please, don't worry about me."

"I don't think I have a choice." He chuckled, pushing back a few stray hairs from her forehead, damp with sweat. "You took quite a tumble back there. If I were you, I would have gone to a cleric right away."

"I promise I'm fine, just let me — argh!"

She tried to sit up, but her efforts were worthless. She fell back into the mattress with a flustered sigh. She hated feeling weak, fragile, vulnerable, especially when others needed help. She would rather die making sure that others would live than be selfish and care for herself first, that's what she learned in the monastery back in Elturel.

But those days were long gone, cast to the side, just as they did to her.

“Listen, just lie back and do as you’re told, dearest.” He walked towards a table on the other side of the attic, with a box bearing a medical symbol on the front.

“You wanna make me?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He joked, making her heart leap in her chest as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Now, where exactly are you hurt?”

“…across my stomach. One of those wretched winged horrors caught me off guard.”

“I see. Can you undress for me?”

Divya knew why he asked her to take her clothes off, but she couldn't help but blush at the... other implications his question could be interpreted to mean.

However, whenever she tried to move her arms to slide her top off, the pain in her core was too much for her to bear. She was absolutely helpless.

"Uh, Dammon, I think I may need your help..." She called to him, rather sheepishly.

"Of course," He grabbed his medic box, carrying it over to the barrel by his bedside to assist his patient.

He sat next to her on the mattress, coaxing his steady hands underneath her body. Hie guided her to sit up straight, the whimpers of discomfort escaping her lips pulling at his heartstrings. He helped guide her arms up above her head so he could gently slide her bloodied top off, trying his best not to disturb her wound, and placed the clothing in a heap on the floor.

But when Dammon turned his attention to her injury, he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

The winged horror had nearly disemboweled her, the gashes so deep he was worried that they may have scratched more than her vital organs. Her uniform was tight enough that it helped stop some of the bleeding, but it definitely was not sanitary. She could potentially contract an infection at any moment, and if that were the case, she’d be in grave danger.

On top of that, her body had new scars, ones he hadn’t seen during the night they shared together. He noticed the new scar on the side of her face, the ones spanning across her neck and chest, even a few on her thighs. They had all ranged in different stages of healing, He could tell that whatever the refugees had gone through while traveling through the Shadow Cursed lands, her battle had been far worse.

“Nine Hells below, what happened to you?” 

“A lot.” She sighed, “Lae’zel led us through a githyanki crèche. They… weren’t too kind to us. I'm surprised they didn't hack off my tail."

He shivered at the thought, tucking his own tail close to his body in response. “Looks like it.” He reached into a bucket and pulled out a washcloth, wet with a substance unfamiliar to her. As she inhaled, the scent filled her nostrils, reminding her of a strong alcohol.

“This’ll sting. Breathe in for me…”

Divya hissed through her teeth as he pressed the cloth directly on her wound. It didn’t just sting, no, it felt as if her body was literally on fire. Her breath quickened as the pain swept through her entire body, gripping at the sheets of his bed with her fingers.

“Hells, Dammon, what are you doing to me?” She felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as her body contracted from the pain.

“It’s to help clean the wound.” He explained, calmly. “The cut’s a bit deeper than I thought, and the last thing we need is your wound getting infected.”

"Am... am I going to need stitches?"

"Definitely," he replied, disposing of the dirty cloth in a bucket, "but don't you worry, I have everything we need right here."

His fingers worked quickly with the needle and thread, stitching her back together with ease. Divya was in awe at how the man who's rough, calloused hands worked with metal and heat day in and day out, could be so gentle with her injured, delicate body now.

She gazed upon his face, concentrated on his sewing. "How do you know so much about medicine?"

A small chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes still focused on her wounds, "Working in the forge, you can get hurt easily. Best to handle it yourself when there's not a cleric around."

He tenderly pulled the final stitch, tying the thread in a knot and pulling the rest with his teeth.

"Alright, we're almost done." He said, reaching into his medic box one last time. "I know you won't stay out of trouble, so I need to swaddle you up a bit so the stitches won't open."

He wrapped the bandages around her waist, bringing them down to her hips. She winced as he applied pressure to her newly stitched wounds, but she knew that she would rather have them quickly healed than for them to open up again.

"Thank you, Dammon," she whispered, finally feeling relaxed. Their first day at Last Light Inn may have been troublesome, but with Dammon here, she felt safe. "And... I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I hate... I hate being weak."

"It happens to the best of us," he replied, putting the rest of the unused bandages back in the medic box. "We all have to rely on others at some point."

"Well, if I'm going to rely on anyone, I'm glad I can rely on you."

"Any time, dear," he smiled, leaning over to place a kiss on her lips. She responded in kind, lifting her head to press her against him. His hand caressed her face, his thumb idly rubbing against the healed scar over her cheek.

Even now, in her most vulnerable state, he still found her beautiful.

It was almost like he always thought of her that way.

[mythrae]

Here With Me

Summary: After the Magic Mirror mysteriously appears in camp, Taversia discovers she is able to change aspects of her appearance — including her biggest insecurity.

Word Count: 2.1k (I think but probably a little bit more)

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), Tav struggling with being intersex, mostly fluff (no I have not gotten to the final Gale romance scene), implied smut at very end

Author’s Notes: Not beta'd so pls be nice.

Playing around with the Magic Mirror in the newest update, I was… surprised at how much you could change lol. Truth be told, Taversia was accidentally made intersex (when I selected default for genitalia I didn’t realize it was for the males vs females), but I think it’s an important part of her story that is now being explored, since she is in a relationship for the first time.

Also, song that also inspired the title/generally makes me think of Gale and Taversia’s relationship will be linked at the very end. Enjoy! :3

Click here to read on ao3 :)

After a long day of exploring through the city of Baldur's Gate for the first time, Taversia and her party finally made it back to camp.

As she was making the rounds and checking in on her companions, she noticed a strange glow coming from underneath the barn doors. She approached it cautiously, unsure of what light-filled being could be hiding right under their noses.

“Want me to go in with you?” Jaheira asked, grabbing the handles of her weapons in anticipation. “I won’t allow for stowaways in our camp… except for Yenna.”

The little girl, who found them in town earlier that day and followed them back to camp, waves in their direction. Taversia gives her a nod, and draws her own sword towards the doors.

“Looks like we need to do a better job watching who goes in and out here.” She replied to her druid companion, steadying her fighting stance and preparing for the worst. “On the count of three, we'll knock down the doors. One… two...”

Before either of them got the chance, the barn doors opened for them, a very excited wizard on the other side.

“Tav, my dear, come quick!” Gale says, “I just discovered something quite groundbreaking!”

Jaheira and Taversia shared a confused look. How did Gale get inside before either one of us noticed? Shrugging simultaneously, they followed behind Gale's stride as he leads them to the camp’s newest upgrade.

“Introducing… the Magic Mirror!” He announced triumphantly, waving his hands for added emphasis. As Taversia got closer, she saw that it looked like any old mirror. However, the reflective glass was replaced with what looked to be a magical realm, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

“Tales have been told of its legendary ability to permanently alter the appearance of one who gazed in it.” Gale explained. “However, only the Chosen Ones can change what they look like. I found it out the hard way, sadly — the Magic Mirror wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

“And how do you know so much about it?” Jaheira asked, more than a little suspicious of this mirror's true intentions.

“I’ve been studying magic my entire life, Jaheira.” Gale replied. “It’s a common legend amongst us wizards. But I never thought I’d see one with my own two eyes.”

“Do you know how it ended up here in camp?” Taversia asked. "Surely it can't have just showed up out of nowhere."

“No idea!” He answered, a little too enthusiastically. “Must be part of it's magic. Would either of you like to try it out?”

Jaheira immediately shook her head, declining the offer. “This kind of magic is not for me. Let me know how it goes, though.” With a wave of her hand, she walked back to her tent, leaving Gale and Taversia by themselves.

“Well,” He clasped his hands, looking at his partner eagerly, “would you be willing to try and see if you’re a Chosen One?”

“As long as you promise this won’t hurt me.” She replied, walking closer to the mirror, examining it carefully. “I don't think I want to change how I look, though.”

“And I don't want you to, my love.” He said, reaching for her hand, giving it a light kiss. “Just test it out for me and see what it all can do, okay?”

She smiled at him, nearly getting lost in her partner’s deep brown eyes. One of her favorite things to do when she's with him, but now was definitely not the time. “Of course. I’ll give you a full report.”

“Wonderful,” Gale said, letting go of her hand. “Good luck, soldier! See you on the other side.”

Taversia turned from him and gazed into the Magic Mirror, watching the hypnotic patterns of the magical realm move and change. Suddenly, she felt as she was being pulled in to the mirror itself, even though she was standing completely still.

So I guess I am a Chosen One, she thought, as the patterns moved faster and faster, eventually giving in to darkness. She brought her arms up to shield herself, hoping and praying that this wasn’t some vile trap placed in their camp by the Absolute…

When she opened her eyes, she saw herself — as if she was standing in front of a mirror. In front of her, an arrangement of pictures, buttons, all of them options for her to change who she was, what she looked like. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in her life.

Gale was right, I can change how I look! Taversia knew her wizard companion would be happy to hear that the magical legend was true. First, she noticed a selection of eight faces she could choose from. She pressed on the picture the first face and looked at her mirrored image.

Oh, gods. I don’t like that at all. She looked back down at the buttons in front of her, unsure what they all meant. How the Hells do I go back? The images in front of her were still a little foreign, learning this magical system as if she was learning to hold a sword for the first time.

By sheer luck, she pressed on a picture with an arrow pointing backwards, bringing her old face back.

There, that’s much better.

She looked through the other options. She could change how her hair was styled, the way she did her makeup, the tattoos and scars she bore, hells, she could even make herself look older than she actually was.

She didn’t even know what kind of magic this was, but it was truly mind blowing.

As she peeked through all the other options, there was one aspect she could change that caught her eye a little bit more than the others. She couldn't believe her eyes at first, but as she looked again, the possibility still remained.

The Magic Mirror gave the choice to change… one’s genitalia.

Taversia was born intersex. Thankfully, in her lifetime, she had never encountered harassment of bullying from being born this way. Simply because it never came up in conversation with others. It was definitely more of a… internal struggle, that she dealt with.

Before she met Gale, she had never allowed herself time to date, let alone share a late night tryst with anyone. So she was a bundle of nerves when they first shared a bed together. She was worried he would think of her differently, since she was born a woman, but did not have… well, to be frank, all the parts a normal woman would have.

Thankfully, her partner thought nothing of it. Gale assured her that he didn’t want her for her body, but for the woman he had grown to know and love. He was just glad he was getting the opportunity to be with her on a more intimate level.

But now, Taversia thought to herself, if I could change myself, change this part of who I am… would he like me more?

Or, she continued, would he like me less, if I wanted to change who I was?

As she debated herself in her head, pondering for what felt like hours, she felt herself being pulled out of the Magic Mirror and brought back to camp. When her boots finally touched the barn's dirt floor, she noticed Gale was patiently waiting for her to return.

“Tav! You’re back!” He shouted with delight, picking her up in his embrace and squeezing tight. “And thank goodness you haven’t changed a bit.”

“I’m glad to be back, Gale.” Taversia replied, her arms locked in her lover’s grip. “But, I… wanted to ask you about something.”

“Oh?” He placed her down, trailing his fingers down her forearms and sliding his hands into hers. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

“It’s about… being able to change appearances.” Taversia began, “You were right, there are so many ways you can change your appearance in the Magic Mirror. Ways I never even thought possible. And…” she trailed off, unsure of how to word what she wanted to say.

“It’s all right, my love.” He assured her, gently squeezing her hands. “You can tell me.”

She sighed as she looked at her boots, unable to meet his concerned gaze. “I saw that I could change my…” She paused, almost embarrassed to say the next part aloud.

“… my nether regions.”

“Your… your WHAT?”

“Yes, ah, and I just thought… if I could change that part of me…”

“Why in the Nine Hells would you do that?” Gale asked, perplexed beyond his comprehension.

Taversia released his hands and covered her face, either hiding her shame or her watering eyes, she wasn’t sure.

“I don’t know, I just thought if I changed that part of me, you’d be happier to be with a real woman…”

She fell to her knees, feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable with her one insecurity being out in the open like this. She was a tough fighter, a champion, and she kept a stoic composure with her companions at all times. It was safe to say that she was not one to show her more vulnerable side often.

She wished a lightning bolt would simply strike her down so she didn't have to deal with her embarrassment any longer.

But that storm never came. Instead, she felt Gale, her partner, her true love, sitting down on the floor and pulling her body close to his.

“Listen to yourself, Taversia.” Gale replied, “You sound absolutely ridiculous right now!” He chuckled, running his fingers lightly down her back. “When I first told you I loved you, it was for all of you. My love for you hasn’t faltered, not one bit. In fact, quite the opposite: it’s grown tenfold.”

Taversia slowly moved her hands away from her face as he spoke to her, settling her cheek on his chest.

“To me, it’s about who you are as a person, not what’s between your legs. That's never going to change.” He cradled her face, tilting her chin up so he could look into her eyes, golden as the evening sunsets back home in Waterdeep.

“You’re… such a strong, incredible woman. You've done so much in the time I've known you. Led us to success against the goblin camp, saved so many innocent people's lives, you even defeated a God! And on top of that, you’ve made me a better man. And I don’t ever want you to think you should change who you are, especially not for me. Because I want you in my life — as long as you’ll have me — as Taversia, the woman who saved me from that portal in that damned rock. The woman who has… well, quite literally been my rock. My support. I’ve never had anyone quite like you.”

Taversia felt a stray tear roll down her cheek. She knew he was telling the truth, speaking from his heart.

“Ah, save your tears, my love, it will all be okay." Wiping the wet drop from her cheeks with his thumb, he continued, "As long as you’re here with me, I… I can live on. I don’t need to die for the forgiveness of Mystra. I can… be me. Live the life I've always wanted. I’ll always be thankful to you for that.”

He watched as a slow smile finally began to grow on her face, as beautiful as the first time he ever made her smile.

“Thank you, Gale.” Taversia whispered, “I’m glad I have you.”

“I’m glad to have you too,” he replied, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Besides, if you really must know, I rather like your… ahem, nether regions, just as they are.”

She could feel her flush before the redness creeped up on her cheeks, a sight that was a rare treat for her partner to see. “Gale!” She nearly shrieked, trying to bury her face away again, but his hand held her firm. She wasn't about to hide from him, not now.

"In fact," He continued, "now that we're all alone..."

Her eyes glanced over at the barn doors, which were now conveniently shut for their privacy.

"But it's the middle of the day! Do you want the others to hear us?"

"Oh, you know I like it when they hear you shouting my name."

Gale pulled her face to his, closing the space between their lips. His kiss was passionate, hungry, nearly overflowing with his desire for her. Moving his body on top of hers, he guided her to lie back on the floor, his hands now slowly undressing her. Nearly breathless, Taversia kissed him back, her own arousal growing for him to have her, right there and then.

As the two of them made love to each other in the campsite barn, she heard his words of love repeated in her mind over and over again. Almost as if they were a poem, specifically recited for her alone. She didn't need to change for him, she didn't need to change for anyone. To him, she had always been perfect.

And for the first time, in a very long time, she was truly happy for who she was.

[mythrae]

Just A Kiss

Summary: Divya finds Wyll all by himself the night of the tiefling party. She was the last person he wanted to see that evening. But in the end of it all, he's glad she found him.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), just some traditional fluff

Author's Notes:

#justice4Wyll we need to show this man more love

yes the title is the same as the Lady A song from like 2010 I understand it's country I grew up in the midwest let me LIVE!!! just like listen to it. the song is them. case closed.

click here to read on AO3 :D

Wyll was in no mood to celebrate tonight.

As the tieflings gathered in camp to commemorate their success over the goblin fight at the grove, he couldn’t help but feel as if he wasn’t welcome with them anymore. 

After sparing Karlach’s life and ultimately being punished by Mizora, he had seen the way that other people look at him. How the ridges in his skin and his glowing Hellfire eye scared the young tiefling children, and startled the adults at the very least. Even his companions secretly judged him for agreeing to take a pact with the devil, seven years ago.

So, to avoid their condemnatory stares and hushed whispers, he found his respite tonight down by the river, the rush of water drowning out the joyful jamboree he willingly left behind.

He took a sip of his wine. Bitter and dry, exactly how he felt that night. But at least it took some of his pain away.

Here he was, the Blade of Frontiers, slayer of monsters, protector of the people. How in the Nine Hells was he supposed to protect those of the Sword Coast when he looked like the very thing he sought to destroy? Would anyone in all of Faêrun ever take him seriously again?

How would he ever make his father proud?

His spiraling thoughts stilled as he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

“Wyll?”

Shit. The one person he had hoped wouldn’t seek him out tonight.

He turned over his shoulder to see that his suspicions were correct. By now, he’d be able to single out the sound of her voice, even in the every busy Elfsong Tavern.

Divya, their fearless leader. 

Bathed in the pale moonlight, she looked divine, like a tiefling goddess of the night as she walked on the river's shore. Surely the whole camp was singing her praises right now, why wasn't she going to speak with them? He didn’t deserve her attention, her kindness, for her to find him out here all alone.

But here she was, searching for him, worried about him.

“Agh, Hells. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice I was gone.” He turned away from her, watching the reflection of the night sky in the babbling river.

“Of course I noticed.” She joined him where he stood, holding her own chalice up to him in cheers . “It’d be no party without the noble Blade of Frontiers.”

“Really? Well, I’m honored.” He clinked his cup to hers, his lips curled in a half smile before taking another sip from his goblet.

This time, the wine tasted a little sweeter with his newfound company.

“In truth… I don’t feel in a festive mood, and didn’t want to cast a grey cloud over the night.” He confessed, still unable to look at her in his state of distress.

“Why’s that? 

“I’m a devil, Divya.” He nearly spat out the word in disgust. “I love the people from the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays.”

A moment of silence was shared between them, Wyll feeling uncomfortably awkward. He wasn't one to talk about his emotions much, let alone a beautiful woman he had taken quite a liking for.

“Besides," he continued, "you don’t want a devil at your party. Claws will pop the balloons, you see. And the sweet cakes don’t taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted fork tongue.”

She chuckled lightly at his attempt to lighten up the air around them, but she could tell that through his adorable, cheeky smile, he was hurting deeply.

A type of hurt she could never fully understand, but a hurt she knew fairly well. She too had humans stare at her for her devilish horns, her long, rigid tail, her pointed fingernails. Having her skin condition made it all the worse, like she was some sort of circus spectacle. Children who didn't know better would often point and laugh, saying she looked like some sort of hellish cow.

But his pain was not skin deep. No, it penetrated his soul. Who he was at his core. After all, what good was a monster hunter if he took the form of a monster?

She may not have known the solution to his problems, but by the Gods, she wanted to comfort him.

Facing the rushing water, Divya rested her head on his shoulder, her fingers gently tracing the muscles of his bicep. He was well built, powerful with both his magic and his rapier. Even with his devilish features, she always felt safe with him around.

“You don’t unsettle me, Wyll. You know that.”

He sighed, finally looking down at her. “If only half the world had half the heart you do.”

“That’s the thing — they do." She replied, "All of our friends care about you so much. You're a valuable asset for us, no matter what you look like. You know we've all got our fair share of problems. Hells, Gale has a bomb strapped to his chest!"

The half smile crept back over his lips again, the truth of her words finally hitting him (like an Eldritch Blast).

“And I know that the tieflings aren’t scared of you. In fact, I think I saw a few of them envying your horns. From one horned being to another, they do look rather impressive, after all.”

“You think so?”

“Oh, I know so! They make you quite the handsome devil.”

“Now I truly feel honored.” Wyll laughed, his worries drifting away with every shake of his shoulders. She always knew the right thing to say to lift his spirits, that's one of the many reasons he was drawn to her.

He wished they could spend all night here like this, just the two of them gazing at the stars and bantering back and forth. But he knew the others would be looking for her by now.

“Now, off with you." He shrugged her off, turning his body to face her fully. "Don’t worry about me right now. After all, this is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music.”

“Well, if I’m going to dance, I want to dance with you.” She insisted, her fingers finding his arm again and trailing down to his hands. He didn't resist as her digits played with his, a mindless game of cat and mouse.

“You're in luck, actually." He gave her his award-winning smile. "I always enjoyed a bit of pomp. I once beat the Baldurian record for the most sarabandes danced in a single evening. Much to the exhaustion of the good ladies and gentleman of the Gate. I had years of lessons but in truth, it’s all about your partner.”

His eyes met hers as the last words fell out of his mouth. She did not look away, she was not scared of his hellish stare.

In fact, she seemed to like it.

“You know, cut quite a fine figure. I can just imagine leading you with an entire ballroom watching. But…" He gaze broke, dropping her hand as it returned to his side, "... who am I fooling? I can’t go back to that life.”

“Why not? I would love to."

He looked back up at her, waiting for any hint of wittiness, sarcasm, or humor in her voice. But there was none.

"Well... for you, maybe someday." He shook his head in near disbelief. Hells, the hold this woman has on me.

Divya moved closer to Wyll, her chest pressing against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, wine-filled chalice still in hand. She had never embraced him like this before, let alone held him at all, and the sudden physical touch made his loins ache with desire.

“If we can't share a dance tonight," she whispered, her eyes traveling over his features, "then maybe we could share... a kiss?"

He chuckled a bit, placing his strong hands on her hips to steady her frame against him. "You must have had too much to drink. Wine is a dangerous nectar, one that can lead to many bad decisions."

"I don't think it's a bad decision." Her eyes as round and wet as a doe's as she pouted. "Do you?"

Fuck, he thought, staring intently at the woman who held him close.

He let out a half-hearted sigh. “You drive a hard bargain. But just the one.”

The Blade of Frontiers was no stranger to intimacy. He's found many lovers on his adventures, of all shapes, sizes, and colors. However, with the amount of people he has taken to his bed, he never found one that truly stuck out to him.

But tonight, as he felt Divya stand on her toes and cradle his face to reach her lips to his, he felt a spark for the very first time.

It was as if fireworks were exploding through his entire body, like an electric current coursing through his veins. Once the feeling hit his mind, he was a goner, holding her tighter against his body as his lips moved against hers once more. He was addicted to the feeling she gave him, and he craved her more and more.

The kiss was over as quickly as it started, as she pulled her lips away and gazed longingly into his eyes. Wyll was nearly left speechless, selfishly wanting to lose himself in her.

But tonight was not the right night.

“I — well, then." He stuttered, releasing her hips from his tight grip as he felt her arms slide ff his neck. "Erm, you’ve got a party to get back to. After all, tonight is about you.”

She held up her chalice to him again. "And for you, too. I couldn't have done it without you."

As he raised his empty glass, he leaned in to her and whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the two of them to hear:

“There will be… another time for us. I promise."

"I'll be waiting," Divya winked as she sauntered away, the camp greeting her with hoots and hollers of the party's success.

Wyll couldn't help but shake his head once more.

Gods, she's really something, isn't she?

[mythrae]

TW: Rape, Non-Con

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Dark Urge origin spoilers, mention of violence read at own discretion!

Author's Notes: Not beta'd, so pls be kind

I wanted to post just the ao3 link here, honestly I feel this work is very dark and can be triggering for some readers, which is why I did not want to outright post the whole thing on tumblr.

Basically me giving my Tav my trauma bc I am still processing :,)

Part of my Dark Urge Mythrae's origin story, there will be more updates and I'll eventually give the series a proper name, just not now

Click here to read Part Two!

[mythrae]

Mythrae's Masterlist

I write shit so here's a collection of the shit I write:

OC Specific:

Taversia (she/they)

Here With Me (pure Gale fluff)

To Live (requested fluff one-shot)

Mythrae (she/her) - Redeemed Dark Urge

What I Was Made For 1 2 (on pause for rewrite)

Divya (she/her)

Invisible String 1 2 (she x Dammon) (on pause for rewrite)

Just A Kiss (Wyll fluff)

To A Wild Rose (more Wyll fluff)

Salome (she/they)

A True Friend (requested angst one-shot)

Stassie (she/her)

Ain’t No Sunshine (When She’s Gone) 1

BG3 Character Specific:

Gale

On the Lowest (very much smut)

Dammon

Braided (requested fluff one-shot)

[mythrae]

You asked for some prompts or oneshot requests! Maybe one of the companions confessing their feelings for Tav/Durge/reader (whatever you want)? Or their reactions as they are too late to stop Kagha from sealing off the Grove?

hehehe I’m gonna do both but do the first one first because I have the perfect idea

this was originally going to be short but here I am nearly 2k words later (probably because I was listening to this a lot while writing)

written for my oc Taversia, set at the end of Act One

“I can’t believe Mystra actually expects Gale to just sacrifice himself like that.” Shadowheart said, “Seems like a waste of a fine mind.”

“Agreed, he’s definitely smarter than all of us.” Taversia replied aloud, yet her mind continued to drone on and on.

And kinder, and funnier, and more handsome, and ever more so charming…

She could feel how heavy the air was around camp that evening. Elminster had just left after delivering his distressing message — if Taversia and her party are to defeat the Absolute, Gale must obey Mystra’s commands to use the orb she had placed in his chest. By doing so, he would be releasing a large amount of Netherese magic, in turn, leading to the wizard losing his life.

But, he would also be gaining the forgiveness of his goddess.

“Bah - perhaps he’d find forgiveness in a fiery death.” Lae’zel pondered, “But I can’t help but wonder why he’d want it at all.”

Taversia’s gaze lingered over his way as he stood stoically in front of his tent. “I’m not sure… I hope he’s all right, either way.” 

“You should go check on him, Tav.” Shadowheart said, playfulling elbowing her companion’s side, “You’re the closest to him out of everyone in camp, after all.”

The fighter let out a huff. “What do you mean by that?” She replied, raising an eyebrow at the cleric.

“Well,” she shared a glance at the githyanki woman with them, “we’ve all seen the way he looks at you. I’m surprised the wizard has yet to make his move.”

“You must be too thick-skulled to not see it.” Lae’zel added, crossing her arms over her chest. “Chk. Seems you’ve taken so many blows to the head that common sense has been knocked out of you.”

“You really think he…?” Taversia couldn’t hide the flush creeping over her cheeks.

“Seems like his feelings towards you are mutual, then?” Shadowheart gave her a knowing grin.

“... is it that obvious?”

“Most definitely.”

“Oh, Nine Hells below…”

Taversia looked down to the ground, hoping it would help tame the fever that was ripping through her body. She definitely had feelings for him, but she thought she had done her best at keeping her infatuation discrete. As the tactician of the group, she felt it was inappropriate to have any amorous interactions with her party members. Their ultimate goal was to get rid of the tadpoles writing in their brains, and they should not be distracted by silly things such as romance.

She had the same mindset when it came to the other members of the Flaming Fists, when she had served for all those years. Many of her comrades had offered their hand to her, and she had always refused each time.

In fact, she has never had a romantic partner. She had just never found someone she thought she could get along with.

But then came Gale. He was so different from any other man she had met. Eloquent, educated, and effortlessly ebullient. He completely bewitched her the first day off the Nautiloid, after she had pulled him out of the portal. Not only was he good-looking, but he quickly proved to be a worthy ally in their party. At first, she was worried they would butt heads along their journey, for it was uncommon for a stone-cold fighter and a powerful wizard to be fighting side by side.

But as they say, opposites do attract.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into him to prevent him from killing himself for his Mystra’s sake.” The githyanki woman hissed, “Although considering the amount of sense left in your head, I don’t see you being very successful.”

“We’ll see about that.” Shadowheart chuckled. “Maybe their combined sense can make up for the tadpoles scrambling their brains.”

Taversia rolled her eyes as she silently walked away from her companions, her closest friends in the party. She was thankful for their camaraderie, but she was not used to their deliberate teasing.

As she approached Gale’s tent, she could see that despite Mystra’s charge, he seemed rather… normal. If he was feeling any sort of distress from her commands, he definitely didn’t want to show it. He was reading one of his many books, without a single care in the world.

But as she got closer to him, she met his gaze. She could see hints of darkness in his eyes. He wasn’t taking the news well.

“Ah, Taversia. Always a delight to speak to you. What can I do for you?” He smiled as he closed his book.

“Don’t worry about me, Gale, please.” She answered, holding a hand up to her chest, “How are you holding up?”

“Well, an audience with Elminster is never less than memorable.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders haphazardly. “I’d have hoped to introduce you to him in less dire circumstances, but those are hard to come by these days.”

“Very true. But I will say, I’d always imagined Elminster to be more… imposing.” 

“Ah, the doddering act is merely an illusion, one he’s most adept at maintaining.” Gale explained, “Elminster is the most formidable wizard in the realms, perhaps in all of existence. For Mystra to have sent him…”

He paused, his eyes trailing towards the cover of the book he was holding.

“The severity of her bidding could not be clearer. Or weigh more heavily on me.”

Gale’s mask was quickly beginning to slip.

Taversia nodded towards the open flap behind him. “Would you like to speak inside your tent?” Taversia suggested, “Just for a bit more privacy?”

The wizard nodded, “Sounds like a fine idea to me.”

She followed close behind him, making sure to close the tent flap as she sat across from him. Gale settled in, leaning back on a few plush pillows stacked to the side. Taversia had to move a few tomes to give herself some space to sit, gently stacking them on top of each other by her side.

“You know, time seems so infinite when you are young…” He began, “a month is an age, a year is a lifetime… it is a strange feeling, to realize how little of it one might have left.”

Taversia cocked her head as she raised a single brow. “You’re seriously considering doing what Elminster said?”

“Of course – he offered the clearest solution to our problems.” Gale replied, “All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes, and let go…” 

He rested his hand over his orb as it radiated with Netherese energy. The purple glow traveled from his chest, up the side of his neck, ending under his left eye. It only shined for a moment before it disappeared once more.

Even now, Taversia couldn’t help but think how beautiful he was.

“Then the slate will be clean, wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone…”

He paused, the weight of his words hanging on the tip of his tongue.

“... and I along with it.”

She was silent. She didn’t know how to respond.

Although he was older than her, he had so much of his life left to live. So many worldly things for him to enjoy. So many more adventures that he could take part in. If she was in his boots, there would be no way she would have taken Mystra’s charge. There had always been another way to solve her problems before, so there surely was another solution now.

And selfishly, she wanted to share those experiences with him.

“No.” Taversia blurted, “There’s surely another way. There has to be.”

“If there was, I’m sure the goddess of magic and the greatest wizard who ever lived would have identified it, but alas… only one solution is offered.” Gale threw his hands up in the air, as if there was nothing he could do.

“You’re not fucking blowing yourself up, Gale.” She felt her voice getting louder at the wizard as her eyes began to wet themselves with tears, “I won’t let you.”

“Let’s save such certainty for the moment such a decis–”

She couldn’t bear to hear any more of it.

Before Gale could finish his thought, Taversia grabbed his arms and pulled him close, her arms wrapping themselves around his body. Her hold on him was tight as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. She caught a whiff that smelled of old books, like the ones that her guardians used to read to her when she was a young girl. It was a comforting feeling, feeling her skin on his own, as her tears finally spilled and trailed down the wizard’s collar.

“Please, Gale…” She whispers, “I want you to live.”

At first, he hesitated. His body felt stiff, as if he was in disbelief. As if he couldn’t trust her. As if the words she had just confessed to him were a lie. 

But then, she feels his body melt in her embrace. His body relaxed as she felt the sensation of his strong arms enveloping her, pulling her even closer to his chest. One of his hands rested at the nape of her neck, as his head leaned to rest against her own. He sighed deeply, a low hmmm rumbling through her body like a shiver on a cold winter’s night.

“And here I thought my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.” He whispered.

Taversia slowly pulled her face from his neck, realizing how close their lips were as they held each other. “You… really?”

“You mean to tell me you haven’t caught on yet?” He chuckled softly, his hand sliding to cradle her face. “You, my dear, are more naive than I thought.”

“Naive? No, I just… well…” She trailed off, looking away as she felt her cheeks turning red.

Gale’s grip on her jaw tightened, turning her head to face him directly. Their noses were nearly brushing.

“Let me show you.”

As he pressed his lips to hers for the first time, Taversia nearly felt as if he had struck her with a lightning bolt. Warm, electric, full of energy. It took her by surprise as his lips moved against hers, the passion causing his orb to glow feverently.

But he was also gentle, oh so gentle, as if she was a fragile ornament that would shatter if not handled carefully. When she kissed him back, it felt as if he was almost cradling her lips in his own. It made her feel cherished, reverent, even.

Gods above, no one has ever kissed her like this before. Every other person she had kissed was so rough, so hungry, hoping to get one thing out of whatever situation she had found herself in.

Gale’s kiss was sweet, tender, dare she thought, loving.

As he regrettably pulled away from their kiss, she could see that his eyes were no longer haunted with darkness. She could see a spark glimmering once more, as if she had brought him back to life once more.

“I hope you know how I feel for you, Taversia.” He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. “How you might just give me a reason to live.”

[mythrae]

Hey! So since you want prompts, got a bit of angsty one for you. Maybe you could write about a point where for some reason Tav/durge/or an origin character isn't able to bring back a dead companion. Withers refuses to help, the revive scrolls aren't working, no divine help occurs. You can pick the companion (lover, friend, friends with benefits, go wild lol), but maybe explore either what leads up to it or the aftermath. If you want something more light let me know and I can think of something else

oh I love the way you think!!! thank u for this request!!!

I decided to write this about my wild sorcerer durge Salome :) also this was supposed to be a drabble and it's a bit longer than anticipated because I made it a little fluffy at the end (oops)

It all happened so fast.

Salome and her party were approaching the mountain pass, on their way to finally enter the Shadow Cursed Realms. Lae’zel saw a group of githyanki, her people, her own kind, and rushed to their side. She knew they would help direct them to the creché, to get the damned tadpoles out of their heads. 

She trusted her people to lead her to safety.

Instead, they slaughtered her, like a lamb on an altar.

"Only in death are the infected cleansed."

These were the words she heard as the image of the githyanki warrior piercing Lae'zels heart with her sword replayed over and over in her mind.

“Lae’zel! No!”

Salome found herself falling to her knees in front of her companion’s corpse. Around them, the githyanki that had turned their backs on Lae’zel lay strewn about, having met their own grim fates. Usually, the alluring smell of blood and the sight of guts would have her urges running rampant, begging her to play with these new-found toys scattered all around her.

But that urge never came. She only felt the urgency to bring Lae’zel back.

“Shadowheart, come quick! Please!” The half-drow commanded, hearing heavy footsteps coming from behind. The cleric was already conjuring up a spell, the familiar blue glow in between her fingers.

“Already on it.” She replied, her anxiety straining her voice.

Shadowhert knelt beside Lae’zel, muttering a few words under her breath as she released the magic into the githyanki fighter’s body. The blue light encapsulated her body, lifting it slightly up in the air before she fell back to the ground with a sickly thud.

But she didn't wake up.

With a furrowed brow, she tried again, speaking the incantation a little louder this time. Just like before, she was met with the same outcome.

Nothing.

“Dammit, it’s not working!”

“What do you mean, it’s not working?!” Salome yelled.

“I-I don’t know…” Shadowheart stammered, her hands shaking, “My revivify spell has never failed me before…”

“Nine Hells below… Does anyone have a scroll we can use?” Salome looked upwards to face her remaining living companions.

Astarion and Shadowheart shook their heads begrudgingly.

“Gods above…”

Salome grabbed La’zel’s shoulders and shook her aggressively.

“Wake up, dammit! We need you! I need you! Please!”

As she heard her cries echoing in the mountain pass, she felt the tears spilling out of her eyes, hot and salty, trailing down her cheeks. She may not remember much of her past life before the tadpole was put in her skull, but she knows she’d never cried over the death of anyone. She’s seen so many people lose their lives, and was also the reason others lost theirs, so why would she be shedding tears now?

Why was she so devastated?

“We need to get back to camp, as soon as possible.” Shadowheart’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts. “Withers should be able to help bring her back.”

Salome wiped the wetness from her face, nodding her head in agreement. “You’re right,” she said, “if there’s one thing that weird skeleton can do, it’s bring her back to us.”

The sorcerer was not a strong woman, but with all the adrenaline running through her, she was able to pick up Lae’zel’s limp body and throw it over her shoulder. As quickly as they possibly could, the party made their way back to camp, praying to whatever god would hear them for a miracle.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean, you can’t bring her back?!”

Salome didn’t mean to shout at Withers, especially after the sun had already set and her party members were getting ready for bed, but she couldn’t help it. He was her only hope of bringing Lae’zel back to life, and he refused her wishes.

“Their soul is in a place even I cannot peer into.” He stoically replied. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Salome fell to her knees once more, burying her face in her hands. There was nothing she could do, it was all out of her control. It was hopeless. Her body shuddered as she sobbed, the loss of her companion almost too much for her to bear. 

“Why… Lae’zel…”

Withers looked down at Salome as she wept, his eyes gazing upon her with a twinge of empathy.

“Pray tell, Salome, why art thou so troubled?”

She paused, pulling her face away from the palms of her hands. 

“Thine Urge yearns to end the lives of many, yet thou shed tears over your fallen comrade?”

“I… I don’t know why, Withers.” Salome whispered, looking up at the skeleton, “I’ve never… felt this way before.”

“Hast thou ever had… a friend?”

A friend?

The thought was almost laughable to the half-drow.

“I doubt anyone would want to be my friend, Withers.” She confessed, softly. “Not with these urges plaguing my conscience.”

He shook his head with a knowing smile.

“Thou hath thine companions right here in thy camp.” He gestured towards Astarion and Shadowheart’s tents. “They would not stay with thee if they did not find thou as a friend. They trust thee with their own lives.”

She sniffled as she gazed over at their tents, slowly realizing that he may be right.

“Did… did Lae’zel..?”

“Of course.” He replied, “And that is why thou heart aches. Thou hath lost someone close to thee, a true friend.”

“A true friend…” she repeated. 

Salome had never thought she could have a friend before. 

And now, she realized she had friends all along.

“Now, go,” Withers ordered, “rest. Come morning, let you and your companions grieve your loss. Then, take care of thou companions on your journey. Let the loss of the githyanki be a lesson to you.”

She sighed, standing to her feet once more. “Thank you, Withers. I…”

“Say no more,” he interrupted. “Thou thanks is enough.”

With a small smile, Salome nodded to the skeleton, and turned to make her way to her tent for the evening.

Her heart was still broken that she was unable to bring back Lae’zel. The loss weighed heavily on her, and she wished there was a way she could have stopped the githyanki warriors, prevented them from fighting, even found allies from their forces. She would not be able to sleep that night, imagining all sorts of scenarios that could have saved her fallen friend.

But come morning, she would devote herself to make sure she kept both Astarion and Shadowheart safe, no matter the cost.

[mythrae]

Maybe some questions for Divya?? 12, 19, 22, 32, 52

kisses for u thank u so much 🫶🏻💖

original asks linked here!

(under cut bc it’s long)

12. What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

It’s kinda silly for her to admit, but she always cracks up laughing when she sees people fall. Enemy gets knocked to the ground from a powerful Eldritch Blast? Hilarious. Companion slips on ice and falls flat on their ass? Comical. She’ll even laugh at herself if she falls, as long as it’s not from an enemy hit.

NOTE: she does not find it funny when members of her party or her allies are downed, that would be cruel :)

19. What would they do stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

Even after all her years training as a monk, Divya prefers to not be confrontational. So at first she would probably ignore them until they say something to her. She’ll be sitting there like that one picture of the taxidermy fox like

22. What simple activity that most people do/can do scares the character?

Divya cannot cook because she’s scared of fire. Ironic, because she is a tiefling. But due to recent events of Elturel descending into the hells, he fear has come back tenfold. Prepping food without heat? That’s fine. But do not let her cook for your party.

32. If they committed one petty crime/misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

You know that scene in Aladdin where Princess Jasmine had disguised herself as a commoner and she gave a child an apple from a shopkeeper’s cart and just… didn’t pay? It would be something like that (minus the disguise part). Thoughtful because she wants to help others, especially the helpless, but thoughtless because she gave her bag of coin to Wyll and has no money on her.

52. Do they act on their immediate emotions, or do they wait for the facts before acting?

When she was younger, Divya definitely acted on her emotions more often. But as she matured and developed her skills as a monk, she became more reasonable, getting facts from all sides before making any rash decisions.

[mythrae]

hey besties so I’ve had some wonderful people send in some requests for some short one shots (thank you SO MUCH) and I plan on sharing the first one today, but I gotta ask:

would you prefer to read for a gender neutral tav or a specific tav of mine? doesn’t matter to me, I just wanna know y’all’s preferences :)