#to take a male companion LMAO

[redridcr]

Hi my name is Steph and my favorite hobby is making liselotte gay

[hijackalx]

Headcanon thingy, but how would the companions + Gortash react to their lover taking a blow meant for them? (Sweetheart survives, but they'll definitely need some time to recover)

this post would get realllyyyy long if i did all the companions so i did the male companions + gortash, but let me know if u want me to do a separate one for the female companions too 💗💗

GN!reader, small mentions of violence

GORTASH

he’d prefer for you steer clear of any conflict— he considers it beneath you to get your hands dirty— but he doesn’t like to argue. he imagines one of these times you’ll learn your lesson, meaning he’s fully expecting you to come crawling back after a good whooping while promising to never do it again

when he’s approached by an angry subordinate, shaking their fist and yelling profanities at him, he easily maintains composure— he knows his steel watch could reduce anyone to a skid mark on the earth with a simple command. his scrappy sidekick however…………… 👹

he’s only slightly embarrassed when you jump in front of the aggressor, telling them off for their disrespect. suddenly their anger is directed towards you, resulting in a nasty pop to the face that sends you onto the floor. his eyes widen at the sight of you injured for his sake, and with one sharp inhale, he orders his steel watch to destroy your attacker. (and their family. and their friends. and their acquaintances)

he stays at your side while you get bandaged up, threatening the healer’s life every time you wince. he asks what you learned from this experience, hopeful. you think “i need a thicker skull” probably wasn’t the right answer, seeing as his immediate response is “🗿” LMAO

WYLL

he loves to be the one who swoops in and saves you. it really gives him that “heroic” feeling (even if you have to pretend to be his damsel in distress). you guys are always giving your enemies the ick 😹😹

this all goes to his head though, and he can get a little too cocky— like when he jumps in to take on too many enemies at once, and is clearly having a hard time defending you both. he tries to maintain his heroic persona, but you can’t help noticing how you two are getting backed into a corner

while he’s distracted and putting on a show of chivalry, you see an enemy going straight for his blind spot. it’s too late to retaliate, but you do have enough time to jump out in front of the attack. he watches you fall to the ground in pain, HORRIFIED by the fact that he failed to protect you. he forgets his knightly act in a fit of desperation, fighting as dirty as he needs to so you two have the opportunity to scamper away

he criticizes himself SO badly over your injuries. the hit may have broke your face but his failure broke his soul... 💔 LMFAO. he vows to you that it’ll never happen again, and that he’ll be more vigilant than ever from then on out— cue his extremely rigorous and inspirational training montage

GALE

he usually stays toward the rear during battle, using long range magic attacks while you take care of things in the front. he’s not adept at wearing armor and his robes don’t offer much protection— it’s just smarter this way

now imagine how his feeble wizard bones begin to quake when an enemy sneaks past you and sprints his way with a melee attack LMFAO. he’s a planner, not an improviser, so his brain races a million miles a minute trying to think of which spell to use. he needs to cast something powerful, but your close proximity makes him hesitate

you notice his stutter and quickly reach out to off the enemy. unfortunately, this results in you turning your back to another and opening yourself up to a sneak attack. you’re hit hard, and it takes you out of the fight. luckily, the last enemy has 1 HP, so he can easily finish them off with a hasty bop on the head from his staff 💥

afterwards, he’s STRICKEN with worry, cradling your face and trying to get you to speak to him clearly. once he realizes that your injury is healable, you get whiplash from how fast he switches back and forth between admiration and concern. “that was absolutely amazing! 🤩 ” “I THOUGHT YOU DIED!!! 😵”

ASTARION

you guys are super playful in battle. seeing who can kill the most enemies, doing fun combos together, trash talking (it’s giving legolas and gimli). fights with him on your team are rarely serious

he’s quick and alert, so he’s an expert at dodging attacks— it just so happens that you’re standing behind him one of these times, and you end up taking the full force of the blow in his place. he’s used to teasing you for your misfortunes in battle, so his first instinct is to point and laugh 😭

when you don’t get up and give him a bloodstained grin, he realizes something is seriously wrong. a wave of panic washes over him, and the last thing he remembers is switching into feral vampire mode to get you two out of there safely— i’m talking ripping out throats with his teeth 👹

you’re immediately scolded once you come to; “imagine how bad that could’ve been!”, and “you scared me half to death!”— a.k.a he feels SO BAD for letting this happen LMAO, and he 100% blames himself for not knowing you were behind him. he admits it was his fault after you promise to be more careful, and he promises that he will be too (with a little leg room for fun, of course)

[charliesvarietyhour]

me while playing fo4 because i’m an opinionated bitch and i disagree with bethesda’s character design

anyway. presenting,

a detailed look at every companion’s appearance, according to me.

(these are all headcanons. they might not be yours, but they are mine. i wrote this as a fic-writing reference, but i don't mind sharing so long as we're all nice about it. also, spoilers ahead for companion quests, both in vanilla game and dlcs. you've been warned okay love you have fun. sorry in advance that you can clearly tell who my favorite character is.)

cw: heights represented by the united states customary system. sorry metric users :/

Ada. Modified RobCo Assaultron. 2074 model. SN has been sanded off and replaced with "ADA", painted carefully (lovingly) in blue script. It's clear that it has been reapplied multiple times, as many times as necessary. Post-Mechanist quest, she requests to have the names of her fallen friends painted on her body as well.

Cait. Pre-addiction recovery, scrawny-strong. Blood, muscle, bone and not much else. Very short. Like, south-side of 5'3". Has a very rectangular body shape. Hard angles. Was bright strawberry blonde when she was a kid, but it got darker as she got older. Hazel eyes. Freckles year-round and all over. She doesn't burn super easily, but she doesn't really tan either. Just freckles. Nose is crooked from being broken too many times. Post-addiction recovery she is a beef. cake. With Sole's help and resources she gains plenty of weight post recovery. Other than the normal weight gain that comes after recovering from addiction, she finds she enjoys exercise—especially weight lifting—and that it helps her manage her cravings. Her biceps are unfair. If I can be honest, I really only shared this so I can start proselytizing for my Fat Cait Agenda.

Codsworth. Standard GAI Mister Handy. 2076 Model. SN: 01HND-7619-0163. This is only visible because the 2076 Handys had their SN's embossed. All other markings that were printed or painted on have eroded away. A cute fact about Codsworth is that, despite his 200 years of wear and tear, he doesn't have a single dent on his exterior panels. Not. A. Dent. Scratches, yes. Scuffs, sure. No dents. He takes his structural integrity very seriously, thank you. He will brag about this if you let him.

Curie. Pre-companion quest, Modified GAI Miss Nanny. 2072 Model. SN has been scratched off and replaced with what is probably "CURIE", but the combination of chicken scratch writing and 200 year old marker makes it illegible. Post-personal quest, Generic Female Synth Body. Average body weight, brown hair, brown eyes. (I know she technically has "Hazel Blue" eyes but I disagree. It's my post and I get to make the rules here.) Her only deviation from "average" is her height. Generic Synth Height is 5'10", for both male and female synths. Takes time to look neat—neatly trimmed nails, trimmed hair, etc—and enjoys it.

Danse. M7-97 was a vanity design* so Danse looks a little different from the Generic Synth design. Still has the brown hair, brown eyes, but is a touch shorter than the standard. 5'8". Latino or Hispanic. His hair is insanely thick, but his beard always grows in a little patchy and with the odd blond patch just below his right ear. (This was not an intentional part of his “design.” Genetics, even synthesized genetics, get funky sometimes.) Carries weight like a strongman weightlifter. Thicker than average, even for the Brotherhood, so he's always had to have his flight suits and PA specially altered. (Thicker than average in regards to BODY TYPE you sickos– This is not that kind of post lmao.)

(This post from slocumjoe is a huge influence for my headcanon for Danse! Thank you for going through your archive to find it!)

Deacon. The Average Guy Ever™. Average height, average build. I'm firmly in the "Deacon is a Good Spy, actually" camp, so. Uncanny ability to adjust how he looks just by altering his posture. His weight has always easily fluctuated, so he can go from stick thin to bulked up in a matter of weeks. No matter how many surgeries he gets, he cannot hide the freckles. They always come back. He would have had piano hands if he hadn't been a chronic brawler in his youth. Knuckles are very crooked now. Eyes so blue they're nearly grey. Ginger. Has long eyelashes that are frankly illegal for someone who covers his eyes all the time.

Dogmeat. Dog. He has six toes on his back left foot.

Gage. 5'11". In an alternate universe, would tell people he was 5'9" just to fuck with them. Was a towheaded kid whose hair darkened significantly as he grew up. If he spends a lot of time out in the sun, though, it will turn a sandy blonde/light brown. He keeps his hair short because otherwise it gets very curly and floppy and it really kills his "bad-guy raider" vibe. Would be one of those white boys who tans super well but also thinks wearing sunscreen is for the weak. Scarred to shit. Holds onto muscle for a really long time. Underbite. Slutty little waist because I think that's funny.

Hancock. John Prime was already pretty wiry to begin with, and becoming a ghoul has only emphasized this. 5'7" but seems shorter because he's always leaning on something. Draping, even. He's like if a man was also a liquid, somehow. His remaining hair is incredibly thin, but is the most vibrant golden blonde anyone has ever seen. Eyes are dark due to discoloration, but sometimes—if he's taken in a ton of rads—the edges of his irises will glow subtly. Several piercings on his ears, but he used to have more. Lost them on account of his nose falling off. (You know how it is.) Replaced them with an astonishing collection of rings. Cheekbones that could slice a brahmin. Missing his fourth toe on his right foot.

MacCready. Definition of scrunkly. Not a lick of fat anywhere to be found. 5'5". Has a Gunner tattoo on the left side of his forehead and he hates it. It's why he wears his hat so low. Had an ear pierced once, but it got ripped out ages ago. His left earlobe is split now. He very clearly needed braces growing up but obviously didn't have access to that. Bottom teeth are crooked. His cuticles are picked to shit. Sandy brown hair. Cuts his own hair, but only cares about the hair around his face. Line of sight. Sniper. You get it. Is generally too lazy/uninterested in the rest, and will neglect it until it gets too long, so. Mullet (hot).

Nick. See, the problem with my synth grandpa is that this is the only character whose design Bethesda completely and utterly nailed. Like yeah, he does look like that. You got it. You did it. Perfect, no notes. Like all other Generic Synths, he's 5'10".

Old Longfellow. Exactly what you would expect an Old Hermit-Mariner Driven To Eldritch Madness By The Fog and The Sea would look like. The wildest eyebrows anybody has ever seen. Like you could take a comb through those bad boys. His hair is past his shoulders and fades into his beard. Stark white hair due to the stress of living alone on an island and from What He's Seen. You cannot convince me that there are not some Lovecraftian nasties living in the sea. They Know Longfellow, but Longfellow Knows Them. 6' until he stands up straight and then he's like. 6'5". Liver spots across his face and hands. Looks like he has cataracts in both eyes, but somehow can see better than you.

Piper. By far the companion whose Bethesda!verse appearance I disregard the most. In my heart she is a South Asian woman. On the taller side, between 5'8" and 5'9". Super thick, dark brown hair that in fact does just Look Like That (unfair). Her hair grows from fairly far down on her neck. Deep brown eyes. Spends lots of time on her makeup, even when she's out in the 'wealth chasing leads. Prefers red lips and dark liner close to her lid-lines. Her cupid's bow is super pronounced and she does her makeup to highlight it. On the softer side in regards to physique. Has a burn scar on her right forearm from a cooking mishap back when she was still trying to figure out how to live on her own and take care of Nat at the same time. Bites her nails.

Preston. Personification of someone telling you that everything is going to be all right. Tall, 6'. Pretty standard physique for someone who grew up on a farm and then became a soldier in a wasteland militia. Very square hands. Lets his hair grow out a little bit because he (forgets about it) likes it. Brown eyes that look like honey when the sun hits them. Other than the two scars on his face—one running down his left cheek, the other a small nick on his top lip—he has a scar from a bullet wound on his right shoulder. Has a stick and poke tattoo of the Minuteman coat of arms on his left arm, just where his shoulder meets his bicep. Top lip is bigger than his bottom lip. Dimples when he smiles. Huge smile, smiles with his whole mouth. Legs like an adonis. Someone get this man into some 4' inseam shorts, STAT.

Strong. Super mutant. He was a Butcher, so he's a little beefier than your average mutant. Of course, this is only known to other mutants, as the subtleties of mutant physiology tend to be lost on non-mutated humans.

X6-88. Generic Courser Build. While Generic Synths are designed to blend in with the everyman, Generic Coursers are designed to inspire fear in every man. (booo bad joke tomato tomato) 6'3" but stands so perfectly straight that he seems taller. Has the superhero build, but like naturally. Keeps his hair in a short fade. Bottom lip is lighter than the top lip. Has little lines around his mouth from all his frowning. Has one (1) singular scar on his chin. He won't tell you where he got it (it's from him eating it on concrete steps. That was the one mission he asked for an extension on, so the evidence of him beefing it would heal.) Also chronically wears sunglasses. Behind those aviators are grey eyes that are so pale and sharp, they almost look white.

[nukaberries]

Hi! Can I have the non-human companions' reaction to a male sole that is very protective of them? Like if they're at a bar and someone shouts "get out of here freak/bucket of bolts/etc" he's beating the crap out of them immediately and when he's done he just goes back to the said companion and is all caring like "are you ok? Do you need anything?" Djdjfnfnejjr p l e a s e I've had this idea for so long

Non-human companions will always have a special place in my heart (especially Hancock because characters from Goodneighbor will always be superior to me), so this ask is really fun! Besides, I'm pretty sure every Hancock or Valentine fan has sided against the Brotherhood just for this reason. Also I have a feeling I could be missing someone, since I almost forgot Codsworth and Strong, so please let me know if I am, I can just add them on lmao

//

Non-Human Companions React to M!Sole Being Protective (Includes: Curie, Codsworth, Hancock, Nick, Strong and X6-88)

Curie She insists that Sole didn't have to go to all that trouble for her, she understands that some people are bound to dislike her simply based on her appearance and although that can be disheartening, she's come to accept it. She's a little shocked by how Sole reacts, he's never been particularly violent if he can help it, but it's more how quickly his mood changes afterwards when he goes to check on her that catches her more off guard than anything. She can't help but feel touched by the gesture though, it's nice to know that there's someone willing to look out for her.

Codsworth The Commonwealth is a lot different than it was 210 years ago, Codsworth still remembers the days when people would clamour at the opportunity to have their very own Mr. Handy. Now, all he seems to be is target practice or scrap metal to the inhabitants of the wasteland. Nevertheless, that doesn't mean he's immune to how some people tend to treat him. While Sole's act of violence is quite concerning to him, Codsworth does find himself grateful that his old friend is willing to defend him against the abuse he's become accustomed to. Codsworth assures Sole he's fine and insists that he doesn't cause so much ruckus on his behalf, but he will make a point to thank him profusely for caring, even if he is just a robot butler.

Hancock While Goodneighbor is more than welcoming to people from all walks of life, Hancock isn't blind to the treatment of his kind outside the walls. He'd seen it with his own brother in Diamond City and Hancock wishes that he'd fought as hard for the exiled ghouls as Sole had just fought for him. The name calling doesn't bother him, really, he's heard it all before and he can handle himself. What catches him off guard is Sole beating the bigot that had insulted him to a pulp. He does figure that Sole might owe him one, considering Hancock had handled Finn for him the day they'd met. Still, he assures Sole that he's fine and clarifies that he can fight his own battles, not that the show Sole had put on wasn't entertaining to watch.

Nick Valentine Being around as long as Nick has, he knows what people think of his kind and sometimes it can be hard to blame them. The Institute are dangerous and they've taken countless lives for their own selfish gain, even though it's not his fault he has to walk around looking like their poster boy, he can understand why people might take out their frustration on him. Of course, that doesn't mean he isn't quick to bite back to defend himself. On this occasion though, Sole was quicker and much more vicious and Nick had barely managed to comprehend what had just happened before Sole was back at his side asking if he was okay. Nick was fine, as usual, and only might a slightly irritated remark about Sole using his words next time rather than his fists, before thanking him.

Strong He doesn't really understand the insult being thrown at him and, although he definitely will try to join in, he isn't too sure as to why Sole is attacking a random civilian. Once Sole has made sure that Strong is okay - which, of course, he is - and once he's explained what had just happened and why, Strong isn't particularly bothered, he knows Super Mutants are the superior race, the comments of a "puny human" won't change that.

X6-88 A snide remark from a worthless scavenger means absolutely nothing to him, but apparently it means a lot to Sole, who doesn't hesitate to give the scavenger a beatdown and make him apologise to X6. He decides to wait, rather impatiently, for Sole to be done, before asking that he doesn't cause such a scene again for something so meaningless. Deep down though, Sole knows that's his way of saying thank you.

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!!

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[chemzee]

Alright! Tier list of how likely are hpma characters of becoming dateable ( if we ever get the romance option)

Ok so here´s the list in question and my absolutely undenyable scientific reasonings behind each placement. ( /j, I understand my logic ain´t perfect so feel free to disagree)

IT´S GONNA BE VERY LONG SO BEWARE

Very likely tier

aka these characters are pretty much guaranteed to become an option or at least have a really high chance (85-100%)

Daniel: I think this one is like,,,out of question lmao. It´s pretty obvious that if you could date somebody in this game, he would be an option. First and foremost, he´s the only male companion available in the game rn, making him the most fitting male character for this role and you can´t make a romance option with no boys like cmon. Second, he´s one of the most prominent characters in a storyline and is pretty much considered to be one of mc´s closest friends along with Ivy and y´know how it goes. Also, we can take into consideration the "favoritism advantage", as in it´s pretty obvious he along with Cass is the most beloved character by the fandom and I believe it is something you as a dev should take into consideration when making a romance option.

Ivy: pretty much many of the same logic used for Daniel is applied here. She´s tecnically our first friend in the game, she´s one of mc´s closest friends and she is one of the more prominent characters in the story (she, mc and Daniel are at this point the "main trio" of the game), making her the most likely female character to be available as an option. I would say she doesn´t have a really strong "favoritism advantage" as there are less fans liking her than Daniel and Cassandra, but there are some people who seem to like and favor her and tbh I feel like it wouldn´t really affect the decision behind making her an option.

Cassandra: as much as she is supposed to be our "rival" in the game, first of all, Merula from HPHM exists. Second, we still have like, 5 more years (well, 4 tecnically, but you get the point), so there could be a possible chance of her either redeeming herself to some degree or just becoming less antagonistic towards mc. And it´s not like she hates the mc either, I feel like she actually kinda enjoys their company, just has troubles admitting her liking to us. Plus it´s not like dating a "rival character" is something new. But even if we forget about the whole "she´s supposed to be our rival" shtick, she is just a really good option for the romance. AS MUCH AS I HATE GOING OFF VIBES, she really does give of the dateable vibe, sorry. Not to mention the "favoritism advantage" not only from the fans but the developers as well. I would say that given everything, she most likely would be a lot harder to rizz up than Daniel and Ivy, in a sense that it would probably be more time consuming to get her to date us, but I feel like it would be a rather rewarding in the end of a day.

Pretty likely

aka there´s a possibility they won´t be available as an option, but given everything they have a high chance of actually being one (60-84%)

Lottie: I feel like out of the rest of the cast we have, Lottie is the most likely to be dateable, although she´s only availbale as a dancing companion at this moment (hope they fix that fr). The chances are a lot less than the three characters from above, with her not being a very prominent character in the story besides Year 2 and her not having a lot of fans but I feel like she does have a certain probability of being chosen for the role, especially since the more option there are the better. Right??? (she deserves more love btw)

Uhh

aka I have no idea at this point, it really depends (50%)

Colby and Fischer aka Frey twins: I´m gonna be real with you, when I first made this tier list, I had put them in a "unlikely" tier, below Kevin and Robyn, because I felt like given everything the chances were very low. They are not available as companions, they are highly implied to have some of crush on Cassandra and they don´t have a strong "favoritism advantage" even from the devs themselves (this mostly applies to japanese and korean twitter accounts for the game, which "forgot" to post their character cards (you probably know which ones I´m talking about) which contained character description, concept art and voice actors listed (as I do know that along with character from "very likely" tier they were the only ones who had their character description uploaded to the official site, at least in english,so perhaps this point is sorta weak in that regard). But the more I though about it, the more I realised they do have certain probability. Or shall I say, one of them. Yes, I feel like there´s a chance that we could potentially date one of the twins,as in only one of them. Which one is most likely to be dateable? At this point I have no idea, but my bet´s on Colby. That being said, the only possible logical explanation I could give is "we need more than one male option available" and Kevin isn´t likely to be one, so the Freys, especially Colby are the most likely contendants for it. But other than that, it´s just a vibe and gut feeling thing, which is not a very good argument material.

Most likely not

aka the chances are below 50%. It´s not completely out of the question, but I´d say the chances are very low albeit not non existent.

Robyn: in spite of her being a companion character for every game mode except dancing and having certain favoritism advantage, let´s be real here, the affection system behind her is probably only designed to buff her specific character desks. But yeah, girl´s got a crush on Kevin, pretty obvious one at that, so she probably won´t be a dating option. Also a gut feeling moment, I feel like at some point in the story Robyn and Kevin will date eventually, but again, it is a gut feeling, so it´s not an argument material, but yeah.

Kevin: same logic as behind Robyn except he´s not even a companion character so the chances are even lower kfdvjhkfdvjkhl

and that´s the list and my reasons behind each placement

IF YOU REACHED IT THIS FAR THANK U SM FOR READING THIS LIKE FOR REAL YOU GUYS R AWESOME FOR MANAGING TO READ ALL OF THIS!!!

[bohbee]

Genshin characters reacting to GN reader falling asleep.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti.

Warnings: Drunk (y/n)[Diluc], scared kaeya?, spoilers for some characters.

Notes: I have literally never used Tumblr before, but I am going to attempt

:)

Aether (& paimon ig lmao)

You and Aether had just completed several commissions, and now the two of you were sitting underneath a tree just outside of Liyue Harbor. A small breeze hit as Paimon spoke aloud "Man today sure was rough, Paimon thinks we deserved more than we got!" The small floating human stomped in the air, causing Aether to laugh. He went to respond, but a thump on his shoulder stopped him from doing so. His golden eyes looked down at his arm only to find you, his beautiful lover slumped over. Your eyes were closed, and your mouth slightly agape.

The blonde male smiled softly and kissed your forehead, "Let's go to the Baiju Guesthouse. It seems like those commissions exhausted them." He said with a soft giggle to Paimon, his arms carefully scooping you up bridal style as he headed to the inn.

Aethers floating companion opened to door for the two of you. He walked over to the bed, carefully placing you on the mattress and covering you with the blanket. He would then crawl in beside you, holding your body close, giving a soft kiss to your cheek.

(Paimon got lonely in the other bed and flew over and sprawled over the two of you)

Albedo

The heavy sharp sounds of the cold wind of Dragonspine could be heard from the entrance of the cave. You were Albedos assistant and lover, of course. The two of you were up late sorting through papers to find the results for a very old test. "Dear, do you think we had let Sucrose lend it? I am fairly certain she might know where it is." the blonde male asked. However, he did not get a response, causing him to turn around confused. "Dear-" he cut himself off at the sight of you, papers sprawled around the desk, your head laying on your arm, as your body slightly shivered.

He let out a rare smile and walked over to you, savoring the moment. He took off his coat and laid it on your shoulders, giving you a chaste kiss on your neck. "Sleep well, I love you dear" he said softly.

Diluc

Whenever Diluc would take a shift at the Tavern, you would always go with him. Sitting near him while he worked diligently, it wasn't often you would get drunk.... However, tonight was surely an exception. Venti, Kaeya, and Rosaria had sat around you laughing and drinking. And thus, here we are. The Tavern was loud. Laughter and clanking could be heard on both floors.

Diluc huffed and turned his head to his beautiful lover. Your cheek was smushed as your head laid on Kaeyas shoulder. The red-haired brother knew you were his, but it irked him to see his lover on the blue haired male. Kaeya smirked at his brothers scowl, "Don't worry 'luc, they're all yours." he said waving his free arm around.

Once the Tavern closed, he softly grabbed you, hoisting you on his back as he walked towards his winery. He smiled softly as you mumbled something in your sleep, "What am I gonna do with you, my love?"

Kaeya

The blue-haired captain of the Knights of Favonius often worked late, leaving you alone at your shared home. However, you would always stay awake and waited for him to make sure he would come back safe. Though tonight was a very long night, keys could be heard jingling the doornob. The door opened, revealing an exhausted cyro user, who luckily had a day off tomorrow. His brow raised up high as he realized his lover wasn't their to greet him, panic settled it. Yeah, he probably should've thought it through, but he wasn't in the right mind for that. Kaeya raced around the house, his thoughts jumbling around, thinking his past had finally caught up to him, taking the one thing he cherished most. However, his fearful thinking came to an end as he saw your gorgeous face pressed against your book, you slow breaths softly moving the pages.

He breathed out heavily, moving your chair ever so slightly. He carefully picked you up and walked towards your room, causing you to grumble a bit. "Shh now darling, I'm here I'm here."

Venti

It wasn't often that the loud couple was seen separated, but Venti had duties as an Archon. Today, he had left to see his long-time friend Dvalin. You walked around Mondstat quickly getting bored without your loud bard around, so you decided to fix that, and you walked over to Windrise.

The sun set as Venti finished his hangout. He said a quick goodbye and headed over to his city of Mondstat. However, he knew you weren't there, the winds guided him to his beloved. Venti let out an "ehe" as he saw you curled up at the base of his statue. He walked up to you and laid his head on your lap, interlacing his fingers with yours. His beautiful eyes stared at your precious face. "Sleep well, my windblume." he said before closing his eyes.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Okay I hope that was atleast alright? I'll probably do a part two in like 30 minutes

[justgrey]

hallo! Would ya be willing to write Scout x Male Reader? preferably a one-shot or something, but honestly I'll settle for anything. I got a few ideas for ya to build off of if you'd like!

-Being protective of him! we talking wrapping our arms around him when someone gets too close, pre relationship.

-Flirting and getting him flustered.

-getting bloody while protecting him from an enemy

-Bit of a heavier topic- reader being masked (I always imaged like a fighter pilot helmet lmao) and being sent on a dangerous mission, one that they might not return from, even with the respawn machine. They take off their helmet and put it on Scout, giving a small smile while saying "Keep it safe for me, yea?"

-Reader might also have a cat when they leave. Hit him where it HURTS.

-Comfort while reader heals after said suicide mission

Alright gangsters, I'm exploding. it seems you want something very specific, but i can't exactly put my finger on it 🤔

Also don't question the name, motivation hit in the middle of the night when I was settling in and rewatching Arcane for the 80th time. I promise I'm sane you guys don't call a raid on me please please please

went with the suicide mission BTW if it's not immediately clear because it probably isn't I'm gonna melt

Sad Boston Boy Hours

Scout x Male Reader

Warnings : suicide mission themes, angst probably, slight gore, swearing, not proofread

^ (dis yo boi?)

You didn't want Scout to hear about your latest mission. You wanted to delude yourself into thinking that not telling him was to make him not worry, but it was mainly because you didn't want to face him the day you had to leave.

Scout had managed to find out about it anyway through one very loud, very patriotic American as 8 out of your 9 other mercenary companions came to say their goodbyes in the dead of night.

You get a couple of handshakes, hugs, and pats on the back from the rest, and just as you're about to get in your vehicle, Scout's speedy footsteps rush out of the base.

"Woah, woah, woah! Where 'da Hell are you tryin' to go! And at 'dis time of night?!" He shouts, pulling you away and holding your arms tight.

"Scout- Scout, listen. This is something I have to do alone, alright." You try to defuse his anxiety and worry for you by running your fingers through his hair.

"Whatd'ya mean you gotta go on 'dis mission wit'out me? Wit'out anyone? Why would ya' ever gotta go somewhere without me? I mean, w- why would you even agree to 'dat?"

Scout looks stunned as you don't respond to him immediately, scratching the back of his head in confusion.

"I- It's just something I have to do. D- don't worry. I'll be ba-"

"Don't tell me 'dat, I'm not stupid."

"Scout-!"

"I said I'm not stupid. Listen ta' me, it's supposed to be me and you, forever! You. And. Me! You can't just go out and get yourself killed-!" He begins, waving his hands around to emphasise how displeased he is with this.

"Scout."

"Don't even try to-"

"Scout!"

Scout jumps a little at the volume of your voice, standing up straight in front of you. Now, he's listening to you. Finally. His ears even perk up a little.

Your hands slowly move to your helmet, taking the damn thing off to reveal your dashing face, adorned with scars and a bruise that never seems to go away.

Scout is mesmerised. He never got to see your face very often, and every time he did, it just blew him away. Why would you ever hide it away? He thinks. If he was as handsome as you, which he totally is, he wouldn't hide a damn thing, let alone his entire face.

His thoughts are interrupted as you gently raise his hands and place your helmet into them.

"Wh- why're you givin' me your helmet? 'Dis is your helmet. You're gonna need it, aren't ya'?" He closes one of his eyes and moves the helmet around a little, inspecting it.

"Not where I'll be headed. Listen, I want you to... to keep it safe for me, yeah?" You smile at him and move to caress his cheek, nervousness emanating from your affectionate touches. Scout blushes a little.

"No. You're makin' it back so that you can take your damn helmet back! I'm not losing you. I can't lose you. So I better not be keepin' this for too long." He pouts, pulling you in for a tight hug.

He wraps his arms and legs around your body for as long as he's allowed to before Heavy has to yank him off of your body.

"Damnit! Hey! I need'ta- give him a kiss. Lay off me, ya' lug!" He struggles out of Heavy's arms and kisses you on the lips before he's pulled away again, biting and scratching with your helmet in his arms.

Eventually, you're called back into the vehicle and Scout forces himself to watch as you're driven away to some place, with only your helmet as a way to keep him company.

~~~We time skipping dis so that i can time skip to dream land~~~

The last month had been Hell on Earth Scout. He was lonely and afraid that you would never make it back. Not even Medic's very best attempt at therapy (Having Archimedes follow Scout all day) could help with the mercs anxiety.

Eventually, the same bland truck that hauled you off to God knows where comes rolling back, and Saxton Hale himself holds you as you attempt to stand.

Scout sits in his room, mopey and sad, unaware of your return for a while, which allows you to swiftly get to the medbay.

"Fuck! Fuck it hurts! DON'T TOUCH THERE! TOUCH MY KIDNEY AND YOU'RE A GONER!"

"YOUR KIDNEY IS HANGING OUT OF YOUR BODY! I AM NOT SURE IF YOU ARE EDUCATED VERY WELL, BUT EITHER WAY, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT YOUR ORGANS ARE SUPPOSED TO BE ON THE INSIDE, NOT OUTSIDE! WHY IS IT OUTSIDE?!"

"I DON'T KNOW?! I DIDN'T SURVIVE ALL THAT JUST TO GET YELLED AT BY A MADMAN! JUST HEAL ME UP ALREADY!!"

"GO FIND A HEALTH PACK!!!"

You and Medic shout back and forth at each other, alerting the whole base to your return.

Although it is Pyro that plunges their axe through Scout's door.

"H- hey! What da' heck?! There are times when a freakazoid like you should leave a man ta' mope!" Scout cries, his ears starting to pick up on the sounds of your shouts now that Pyro has so kindly opened his door for him.

"What the...?" Scout watches as you run past his door, looking desperately for a health pack as Medic chases you down with a scalpel.

Do not piss off your local medics.

"Holy shi- W- WAIT UP, ASSHOLE!"

Scout calls and looks over to your helmet, which is sitting at the foot of his bed and smiles like a madman as he grabs it and rushes out of his room and past Pyro.

"Get a move on, py!"

"HUR HUD HUR HUDDAAA!" (Go get your man!)

This is where it ends im tired. I'll write hcs of scout taking care of you another day. Rn I need to sleep, gn gang 🫡👍

[captainsimagines]

meet me in the afterglow || Halsin BG3 || Part One

Summary: She aided everyone, himself included, and he hated how useless he felt. But if he were to simply open his eyes, he would see that she too was losing her mind.

Pairing(s): Halsin x Durge Drow Tav

Trope(s): Slow Burn; Fantasy; Established Canon Scenes; Male Love Interest POV

Based on the Song(s): Afterglow by Taylor Swift

Total Word Count: 30,000 +

If you would rather read on AO3, here is the link

This is a single one-shot, split into 2 parts.

Warnings: This story deals with heavy sexual situations, strong language, canon-typical violence, self-harm, fantasy elements, emotional backstories, past memories of necrophilia, the "Dark Urge", "resist dark urge" storylines, past rape/non-con, attempted sexual assault, and minor character death. You are responsible for your own media consumption. This work is strictly 18+ only. This is purely fanfiction.

Author's Note: Look at me, venturing into a new fandom. Well, I've been apart of it since December, but this is my first BG3 fanfic! Don't ask why it's so damn long and why I didn't split it into chapters. Easier this way in terms of posting, lmao. Anyway, it's summer vacation, I've got my teaching credential and Masters degree, and we're writing fanfics again!!!!!!! If you're not typically of this fandom... Hop on this train, you will not regret it. Buy the game. I swear. Love you.

xxMoni

---

The first time Halsin heard Tav scream was during the invasion of the Last Light Inn, when Mol was snatched by a devil and Rolan dodged a blade as he reached to grab her. Tav had climbed the roof in time to see her being flown in the direction of Moonrise, and that was that. It was an angry scream, one that surprised him and Jaheira alike. Since finding Mol’s eyepatch and defeating Ketheric, Tav hadn’t made a sound resembling it. 

Good, he figured. There was no sense in acting reckless when the facts aren’t known, and a level-headed leader would serve the greater good. He had wanted to slip and scream his frustration for years now, but who would that benefit? Halsin found that if he and his companions held it in for just a while longer, then soon they could find peace, harmony, balance—he had to believe that.

For three hundred and fifty years, Halsin explored the minds, souls, and the willing bodies of countless people. He has taken and been taken, suffered and accepted, led and also been led a fool. Besides the shadow curse, there was nothing that truly haunted him to the very marrow of his bones. He was everything an Archdruid was expected to be, and that included being an expert at hiding one’s fear to level the playing field. 

But recently, he’s been haunted by an odd feeling in his stomach. Thaniel and Oliver were healing together, Ketheric Thorm had been defeated, and he and his companions were readying their supplies to take the two-night trip into Baldur’s Gate. There shouldn’t be anything else plaguing his muscles, and especially not his digestion. Not even the bear could truly keep food settled for long. He suspected that as the land healed, he felt it. He felt each vine untangle, each pebble overturn, each sick creature drain and die. He was usually familiar with plant life dying and sprouting anew, but this was something else entirely. It was the undead dying, the sickness shriveling, the living succumbing and promising their return. It was a sickness extinguished, a sickness that apparently needed to pass through him and any other person connected to nature in the surrounding area. 

He excused himself after dinner, and waited for the oddity to start.

Just as he nearly slipped into trance, the flap of his tent smacked him in the face. 

“Now that we’ve healed this land, where are you going to fuck off to?”

He grumbled, opening his eyes to meet those of a seemingly unbothered Tav. 

Halsin had a bit of a crush. A crush on the violent, self-serving narcissist drow who was going to get them all killed before they faced the real threat awaiting them in Baldur’s Gate. Granted, Halsin formed a bit of a crush on most people he encountered, but Tav was different. The feelings had snuck up on him.

Tav often spoke of utilizing the gifts the Dream Visitor had offered them, but he had never seen her actually consume an extra tadpole. Tav loved to fill Astarion’s and Gale’s heads about godhood, about revenge, but Halsin was there when she almost murdered Araj for suggesting Astarion bite her, and even accidentally wandered in on her and Gale watching the stars he had conjured. Hell, she was the first to grant Karlach that long-awaited hug. And when Shadowheart had the chance to prove herself worthy to her dark Lady, something raw flashed in Tav’s eyes. Something that ultimately persuaded Shadowheart differently. 

The only thing Tav had done recently that really pissed Halsin off was recruiting Minthara at Moonrise. What kind of person forgave someone who threatened a whole Grove? A whole civilization? His people.

But that was the thing: Tav was a person willing to forgive. Well, maybe not forgive. Forget, more like.

And he had forgiven her for the murder of Alfira because, Oak Father preserve him, he believed her confusion. Her surprise. Her… urges. Hells, he came close to killing Kahga back at the Emerald Grove. 

“Who says I’m fucking off anywhere else?”

Tav snorted, his curt response certainly something he’d been working on for a while now. He had remained civil with her, polite even. But the way she spoke to him had him questioning his abilities. He had cultivated mountains of patience over his long years, but she was just too good at breaking off pieces. No way she would be able to flatten him, but he worried himself over the prospect. 

“You’re seriously going to follow us to Baldur’s Gate?”

“I am no stranger to the city.”

Tav plopped down beside his bedroll and fiddled with the strap around his arm. He fought hard to keep so much as a twitch from his face. “It’s a shitty place. You’ll probably find one tree. Maybe two.”

“Do you want me to leave your side?”

Her expression held steady. “No. Just wondering what your plans were.”

Despite her attitude, Halsin had no doubts about whether or not Tav wanted him to remain. He never dropped hints about him leaving after the shadow-cursed lands were no more, and he completely expected to make the trip with everyone else. They helped him here, why wouldn’t he help them to the end? 

“Then you’ll have me. I will remain at your side until you have no use for me, or until my body can give no more. You need not worry about sudden disappearances or ill remarks from my end.”

She rolled his words around in her mind, the points of her ears wiggling slightly. “At least now I can see you in city clothes.”

He sat up slightly, his smirk wide. “Have you been fantasizing about what I would look like in such clothing?”

“Armor is a drag. I’ve been fantasizing what everyone would look like in silks and cotton.”

He hummed, settling back down and placing his hands behind his head. She definitely was a weird one. He couldn’t say for certain if she fancied him or not. She had inquired about past lovers, but hadn't pressed further when he mentioned bedding alone. She had joked about feeling lonely at nights and went so far as to wink at him, but she gave those same winks at Wyll. She had even fought to venture into the Shadowfell with him, but that same ferocity rose when she encountered Rolan fighting shadows alone. She was difficult to read, but he had only himself to blame. So occupied by the shadow curse, he had failed to get to know her. Or any of his companions, really. 

“I think I liked dresses before all of this,” she shared, surprising him. 

“What kind?”

She thought about it for a second, honesty in her lilac features. “The revealing kind. Where the lining dipped to my navel and my thighs were out.”

He was no stranger to such clothing. He had indulged in similar attire in his youth. “I imagine you would look beautiful in them.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But I think I also really liked elven armor.”

Halsin’s laugh came out as more of a grumble. “Is your drow armor unsuitable?”

“It doesn’t show off my curves.”

He couldn’t contain his smile. “Of course. What was I thinking?”

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. Her tent was pitched near Astarion’s, so he doubted she was looking to bunk with him tonight. This was her routine every night—check in with everyone, speak for a few minutes, maybe share a bottle of wine, and return to her own bedroll. Except this is the first time since rescuing Thaniel from the Shadowfell that she visited him.  

It was something he had thought about during their long travels. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Did she consider him a burden, only adding to their troubles without the promise of a cure for the damned tadpole? Volo had tried to do what he advised against, and Tav sported a pale blue eye because of it. 

But it looked good on her. Anything blue looked good on her. 

“You’re allowed to hate me, you know.”

He blinked an eye open, studying her vulnerable expression. Besides making questionable decisions and being rude to strangers they encountered, it was not enough to make him despise her. 

“I do not hate so easily.”

“You hate goblins.”

“They threatened my people. People in need.”

She hummed, “Taking in Minthara was like a slap to the face then.”

“There are other things to consider. Such as, you did not risk the grove when you first met her.”

“I killed a tiefling out of pure blindness. In my own camp.”

“And do you regret it?”

“I—I think I do.” She shook her head, as if arguing with her thoughts. “I also really wanted to kill Isobel.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.”

He sat up and sighed. Tav rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable with his closeness. He did his best to slide to the edge of his tent, but his frame wouldn’t allow much distance. “Are you here… to fight with me?”

Tav grumbled under a breath, avoiding his eyes. “Not exactly.”

He nodded, though confusion still weighed him down. “Then tell me how to best speak on this matter.”

“I don’t understand you,” she admitted, scooting to leave his tent. 

They had something in common, then. 

“When you’ve been alive for as long as I have, you come to understand those around you just a little bit more. Speak or don’t speak, I will not draw my blade. I know it is what you crave. You have fought everyone in this camp with your teeth, almost killed Gale when he confided in you about the orb, almost staked Astarion before you allowed him to feed from you. And you held a knife to my face when you rescued me from the goblin camp. If you wanted to kill one of us, you would have done it by now. If you wanted to kill me, you would have tried.”

Tav laughed and crossed her arms. Halsin averted his eyes from her muscles. “Tried,” she drawled.

He smiled again. “You would not succeed.”

“I take that as a challenge.”

“Take it however you’d like,” he said, sighing as he rested his head back onto his bedroll. “Now, will I receive some peace and quiet tonight?”

Tav squinted her eyes, a glint of mischief peeking through her long lashes. “Annoying oaf of a druid.”

“Annoying brat of a drow.”

That made her grin, teeth and all. Then, quieter, honestly, “Maybe all that torture I endured made me forget. Maybe it made me the way I am. Better today, but…”

Gods, he almost forgot. The odd necromancer they had encountered beneath Moonrise. What she said she had done to Tav, over and over, he could not imagine. First to be kidnapped, reduced to a wailing mess, cataloged like meaningless scraps, and pinned back together only to be ripped open again? And still, Tav did not remember. Thank the Gods she didn’t, and that the necromancer’s slices were simply numb visions. But to smell your own blood on a mind flayer pod, to have a vague recollection of betrayal, to walk right back into your prison…

He kept his voice soft, and tried to make his eyes speak better words than what he could currently form. “Do you mean violent?”

Any ounce of wisdom he carried seemed to die in front of her. She made his tongue twist, his mind rattle.

“Perverted.”

He said, forcefully, “You’re not perverted.”

“That’s why I speak with you, Halsin.” Tav opened the tent flap and stepped through. Her smile dropped, and he was no longer granted the privilege of a real one. “You say all the wrong things.”

---

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

“You’ll find I’m exceptionally greedy,” Tav responded, clinking her beer with his wine. Rolan looked to the floor, fumbling as he tried desperately to flirt back. Halsin almost wanted to help the poor wizard, but that would probably do more harm than good.

“Darling, you’ve made the tiefling blush! How sweet!” Astarion observed, flicking his polished nails across his lips.

Tav shrugged a shoulder, then downed her beer in one go. “Don’t sweat it, Rolan! I have that effect on everyone!”

“Oh,” he lamented, his lips turning downward. Almost as suddenly, he corrected himself. Shoulders straightened, Rolan cleared his throat. “I thank you instead for clearing the road to Baldur’s Gate. When you can, make a visit to Sorcerous Sundries. I’ll give you a lovely discount on some scrolls.”

“Gale would certainly—”

“Gale would be appreciative indeed!” their resident wizard cheered, reaching to shake Rolan’s hand. “I plan on doing a little perusing of my own, of course. But any promise of a discount on some scrolls is certainly something I wouldn’t pass up! I say, Rolan! You and I need to speak one-on-one soon.”

Rolan stuttered over a breath. “That—Well, I’ll probably be preoccupied with my apprenticeship. But yes, that would be quite informative.”

“Gale, stop flirting with my favorite wizard. I wanted him in my bed, not yours,” Tav joked, winking at the blushing tiefling. Cal and Lia, listening at the other end of the bar, sputtered through their drinks.

Gale gasped, “Your favorite wizard? My word, how ugly of you, Tav! I thought we had something special.”

“Your—Your bed?” Rolan choked out, his smile growing. Halsin looked to Tav to tell her to cut it out, but what he saw was… authentic. Tav wasn’t joking, nor was she toying with the tiefling. She genuinely wanted to spend a night with him. Their banter had stretched from the grove to these cursed lands and Tav was nothing if not direct with her intentions. 

He and Tav shared banter… So it led Halsin back to his looming questions with no answers. Did he say or do something that made her avoid him? Was he a burden?

“Offers on the table, Rolan. I don’t ask twice,” she teased, ignoring Astarion’s gag and Gale’s responding chuckle.

“That sounds—” Rolan started, but his attention was pulled by a few of the tiefling children running up behind him. In their flurry of questions, he met Tav’s eye. “Apologies.”

Tav waved a hand and tried her best to smile at the children, who were now pulling at Rolan’s robes. Cal and Lia came to his aid, even going so far as to grab the children around their waists and run in the opposite direction. 

Rolan cleared his throat. “As much as it irks me to admit… I hope our paths cross again in Baldur’s Gate.”

Tav let her disappointment show for half a second before turning in the direction of the exit. Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel had claimed Isobel’s old room, while Wyll, Astarion, and Gale claimed the room where Art had been resting. Halsin had already mentioned he wasn’t going to rest tonight so he could help the tieflings pack, but he wondered where Tav was going to sleep. The only other room still standing was currently occupied by Rolan and his siblings, while the tiefling children were bunking with Dammon in the barn.  

Halsin quickly caught up with her, clearing his throat to gain her attention. “You were very forward with the tiefling.”

Tav shrugged, stripping her gloves from her sweaty hands. “We could die tomorrow. Might as well let my true desires show.”

“And that’s what desires you?”

She smirked. “Got something against tieflings? Or is it wizards, Halsin?”

“Not at all what I meant.” 

He followed her quietly until she led them to the lake’s edge, just a few feet away from Dannis and Bex. Tav chucked her shoes off and tore the corset from around her waist. It was a black and red corset she had looted from Minthara’s office back at the goblin camp, but her fellow drow seemed to not recognize it. Since rescuing her, Tav had made it her mission to try and get Minthara to notice. As if to say, I rescued you but I also bested you once before. Though he hardly spoke to the sharp-tongued drow, he understood her avoidance. Minthara had gained alliances in an unlikely place and vowed to fight by their side, an oath as strong as all others, and did not waste her breath on a petty argument. Especially an argument with her narcissistic Underdark kin.

“I meant to say, that I admire that in a person. I have been alive a long time and you so little, and yet you reach for what you want with ropes of experience.”

It was true. Halsin was no stranger to honey on the tongue or the caress of another. Sometimes he forgot that others have not racked up a roster like he had. Though, he wasn’t exactly keeping track. Every lover he had chosen had been sacred, willing, enthusiastic. It was nice to see others indulging, even if he did not feel the call right now. 

The bear hadn’t felt the call for a while now. Even back in the Emerald Grove, his only companion had been his hand. He didn’t know what changed. 

Tav sat down and leaned back on her hands, watching Dannis and Bex as they swayed in each other’s arms. When they had rescued Dannis from Moonrise a few nights ago, Halsin had been witness to their emotional reunion at this very lakeside. With as many people on his mental list of lovers, it would make sense that he had been in love before. But watching them reunite and cry in each other’s arms… Halsin realized he had never felt love in the way one was supposed to. Lust, admiration, respect—those feelings he was familiar with. Feelings that were reciprocated and cherished. This was different, foreign. 

Was he broken? Had the bear truly taken over that aspect of his life so much? Druids became more like their wildshape the more experienced and older they grew, and it wasn’t unheard of that some animal attributes bled into their daily lives. Or their physique. Nature had been his one calling as Archdruid, and though the realization that he had sorely missed out on the connection Dannis and Bex shared plagued his heart, he didn’t regret devoting his life to the Grove.

“I woke up on that nautiloid with absolutely no idea of who I was. I knew my name, and that was it. Along with a burning rage and desire for blood, I strangely felt free. In a way. This is me letting loose. Being the person I feel like I could have been,” Tav explained, her brow furrowing. Dannis and Bex shared a final kiss before retreating into the inn, giving both her and Halsin grateful nods. Tav sighed, “My memories, or the scraps of them at least, are tainted in red. I want new colors, Halsin.”

He sat down beside her, drawing his knees up so he could lay his arms across them. “I always imagined the color of lust as a light purple. When bodies connect in the most intimate of meanings, it is that streak of purple only the sky can mimic. A purple that only occurs in nature.”

“Poetic.”

“I’ll leave the poetry to Wyll.”

She watched the lake sway, now absent of dark creatures at its shore. He wondered if shadow-cursed creatures actually had also thrived underwater, but no one had reported such horrors. He wasn’t ignorant to think that the fish hadn’t shriveled, that the water wasn’t undrinkable, that the echoes of the Underworld hadn’t been waiting for bare feet.  

“I gave you all colors, you know.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Karlach is pink. As much as my blood yearns for the blood of others, I do not like the color red. Karlach is pink because she makes the darkest of places lighter. She makes my days lighter.”

He wouldn’t have assigned her that color, but Tav’s reasoning made sense. Karlach had a lot of blood on her hands, but blood would fade the more one scrubbed. 

“Gale is purple, of course. That damn robe he got abducted in is scorched into my brain,” Tav laughed. “Astarion is a dark blue. When I look at him, oddly enough, I have this intense feeling that his eyes were blue before he was turned. Blue like the sky he’s been cherishing these last few months.”

Halsin would be lying if he said Gale in purple didn’t stir something within him. After acquiring new robes or armor, Halsin always volunteered to dye it. Purple was instinct for Gale, but he had always found himself dying Astarion’s clothing red. Perhaps now he would reconsider.

“Lae’zel is orange,” Halsin added, grinning when Tav clapped her hands and cheered.

“Exactly! She doesn’t touch any other fruit besides those!”

He continued, ignoring the odd jump of his stomach. “Shadowheart is the color white. Her new hairstyle has nothing to do with it. You know, I was nervous when I saw her leaving camp with a dagger tucked away. Glad to know my nerves were unfounded.”

“Black washed her out,” Tav agreed. Her smile faltered as she picked around the dirt absentmindedly. “Black, however, is Minthara’s color. She radiates such… torment. Mentally, that is. As much as she tries to mask it, I can see right through her. And I think she sees right through me. We’re both terrified, and too angry to admit it.”

Terrified. In all the time he had been traveling with his companions, Halsin didn’t stop to think about what would happen if they lost. Tav had created this image of pure leadership, where everything that needed to be solved had a simple solution. Even Lae’zel portrayed as much. He did have moments where Tav’s questionable actions led him to believe someone would die, but not that anyone would kill them. 

“You just admitted it to me.”

Tav grumbled, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them. “The Oak Father will have your balls if you utter it to anyone else.”

“Didn’t know he answered to you.” He couldn’t help the blood flushing his cheeks.

“The gods love to hear me whine.” Tav's sarcasm coated her words and eye roll alike. Then quieter, angrier, she said, “I remember screaming for some.”

His chest caved in slightly, a burst of sympathy melting along his ribs. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when he was tied to that bedpost in the Underdark. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the shadow curse prevailed and his fellow Druids didn’t run fast enough. He had believed the Gods abandoned him when the last of his family passed and he lowered them into the ground. But ever since, the Gods have answered his prayers. His Drow patrons couldn’t keep their disputes civil and he escaped after three, confusing years. He had sprinted fast enough to avoid the dark tendrils lapping at his paws and was fortunate enough to lead Rethewin’s survivors to safety. He was able to say a final goodbye to his mother. Even now they listened when he was rescued from that horrible goblin camp.

He didn’t quite catch if the Gods had answered any of Tav’s prayers yet since she herself doesn’t remember anything that happened prior, but he had it on good authority that every battle they’ve survived since had been blessed.

“And Wyll?” he asked, his tone softer as he reverted the topic of discussion back to color assignment.

“Green,” she answered quickly. “He reminds me of a park I used to walk around. A distant memory, a broken one. But I see him sitting in that green field, surrounded by wine and grapes and a lanceboard.”

He hadn’t spoken to Wyll all that much yet. Karlach and Gale were the two he found himself conversing with most often. Wyll always spoke of Baldur’s Gate, and though Halsin enjoyed hearing about their companions’ lives beforehand, he found that he did not have kind feelings for Wyll’s father. When he tried to maneuver the conversation away, Wyll always brought it back. 

And it made sense. Just as Halsin was preoccupied with the shadow curse and his role in its creation, so was Wyll and how he would prove to his father that his transformation was for the good of his citizens. Perhaps when his head was clear and his father found acceptance, Halsin would be able to speak to Wyll freely. To speak without thinking about how the city would be better off in Wyll’s hands instead.

Halsin wanted to punch Duke Ravengard in the fucking face. 

“And me?” he asked.

“Guess.”

“I assumed green, to be honest.”

Tav shook her head. She turned to him fully, the lilac of her face bright beneath the moon. For the first time since they had met, she showed him vulnerability. He knew it was killing her to do so. “You’re gold.”

Something foreign fluttered in his chest. “Gold?”

“You shimmer when you wildshape. But also, when you’re standing in the sun, your gray hair shines gold instead. You’re so damn joyful all the time and it reminds me of the sun. You’re sunlight incarnate, Halsin.”

He had been called wise, inspirational, large, and handsome. He had been called ruthless, uncontrollable, wild, and arousing. Never in his three hundred and fifty years had he been compared to sunlight, or directly called it. 

But he was sunlight to her.

She shook her head, a light chuckle beneath her breath. Then she stood and walked back in the direction of Last Light. Slowly, waiting.

“What color am I?”

She shifted her stance. Afraid of her own question, the answer it might bring. The truth of it. Halsin did not see her as a red tone. Far from it. Even her sleek red-orange hair wasn’t enough to classify her. Though red yearned for her, she did not want to claim it. There was a fire behind that fight, a fire that licked higher the more she resisted its call. Even in the midst of battle, drenched in blood, she did not harvest its bounty. Her and Gale were always the quickest to the stream, washing away the brutality. Gale out of pure disgust. Tav out of need. 

“You and I are at odds most of the time. We are two colors that clash, yet find a way to coexist in one setting. You are silver, Tav. The same color as your sword, of the lash of your words, of that fire in your eyes.”

“A silver menace, am I?”

He shrugged, too in his own head to truly argue it. “Silver is also the color of the ripples in water.”

“Ripples are the consequence of a disturbance.”

“They are proof of influence.”

She crossed her arms for warmth. Backing away, she pointed one finger at the sky, her grin nearly obscured by shadow. “And the color of the moon.”

---

The second time Halsin heard Tav scream was in camp a few nights later. A breathless one, but no less bone-rattling. The sound reverberated into his bone marrow, sucking out half and poisoning the rest. His first thought was Mol, that he had to save her this time, that a repeat of the grove was unacceptable and he finally had a chance to make things right. This was a job for the Archdruid. No tiefling would hurt under his watch. 

His second thought was that Tav was dying, and he needed to get up so his silver menace had a fighting chance. 

“Get away from him!”

Halsin woke from his meditation and caught a glimpse of a short, gray creature scurrying into the bushes. The further it retreated, the quicker its laughter came. A sound that scraped against his spine-bones, horribly akin to a goblin’s. 

He looked over his shoulder and watched as Tav held her shaking hands in front of herself. She breathed slowly, shutting her eyes as whatever troubled her began nudging at her once confident composure. 

“Tav?” he said lightly, slowly standing to his full height. In the campfire light, she was beauty incarnate. All her fine features threatened to stop his heart, his senses. And when those senses catapulted themselves into his brain, he saw pure fright on her lovely, scarred face.  

She trembled as she stepped closer to him, gagging on her next words. “Restrain me.”

“What? What’s happened?”

“Halsin,” she croaked. She glanced around camp, fidgeting even more as Shadowheart and Astarion poked their heads out from their tents. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to give into these urges if you don’t restrain me. I can’t control it—I’m trying—but I’m going to slaughter you in your sleep and all of your thoughts about me will be true—”

“Calm, Tav. I am awake, I am unharmed.” He took a step closer. “These urges… They are the ones you mentioned when you asked if they were possible effects of the tadpole?”

“Halsin,” she whispered, terror laced within those two syllables. “You piss me off, but I don’t want to kill you.”

That made him chuckle. “I will not let you.”

As quickly as he finished that sentence he saw the glimmer of a blade behind her back. She lurched forward, aiming for his heart. He reacted too late, but not late enough to get stabbed. An arrow whipped between them and lodged in Tav’s shoulder, sending her to the cold ground. Halsin yelled, panic gripping his stomach from the sight of her blood. 

“Wyll, give me the rope,” Astarion ordered, his skin somehow paler. He threw his bow to the side and immediately began tying Tav’s feet together. Wyll held her down by the shoulders, cursing when she managed to twist her neck far enough to bite him.

“What’s happening?” Karlach demanded, running up to the group. Nervous, caring hands burned with panic instead of the usual fury.

Tav thrashed, screaming wildly as Wyll bound her hands. He did his best to lean down and whisper in her ear, his horn smacking her cheek. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know this isn’t right, I’m sorry. 

“Dear Gods,” Jaheira breathed. “Not another one.”

Halsin had witnessed Jaheira mid-battle and post-battle. He understood that the older druid put on a face, the same face he perfected when he was at the grove. To be stoic in the face of chaos, of evil, was a necessary talent. But here, Halsin saw the mask fracture as she examined Tav’s mannerisms, her moans, her darkening eyes.

“What does that mean? Speak plainly, Jaheira,” he told her. The jump in his voice surprised him.

She huffed, sliding to Tav’s left side so she could check her pulse. At the same time, Shadowheart casted a calming spell. “I have only met one other who resisted the urges. The call for murder, of blood on the tongue, of death in every orifice of the body.”

Minthara blinked, her brow scrunching. “It cannot be!”

The pure terror lacing Minthara’s exclamation—ice pricked his veins.

“A Bhaalspawn,” Jaheira confirmed. “A tadpole-infected Bhaalspawn, at that.”

“A Bhaalspawn?” Karlach choked, though Halsin swore it was on a laugh. “In our camp? If my parents could see me now! Oh, this would make for the best How was your day? story around the dinner table!”

Gale rubbed at his chest, an awkward sound coming from him before he spoke. “That means Orin knows her from before the tadpole.”

“It means Orin tortured her and planted the tadpole herself, I am sure. When she betrayed me, she spoke of another that I now know was Tav. What she did, how her screams sounded—I was not fully listening as she was making an example out of me as well,” Minthara shared, her tone deadly. It was the most Halsin had ever heard her say in one sitting.

“Why wouldn’t the Emperor say anything?” Wyll cursed, quickly snatching his hand back as Tav tried to bite him again.

“It wasn’t its secret to tell,” Lae’zel said, though there was more hatred in her answer than understanding.

Tav shot forward, headbutting Jaheira and flipping onto her stomach. Just as her teeth nearly plunged into Astarion’s forearm, the vampire smacked an annoyed hand to her forehead. “Ah, ah, ah. We ask before we bite.”

“The spell wanes. Calming her emotions is not possible,” Shadowheart said, gritting her teeth. Jaheira, paying absolutely no mind to the bruise on her forehead, took over for the cleric.

“Hit her over the head with this pan,” Karlach offered, offense painting her face after Gale smacked it from her hands. She went to retrieve it, this time holding it over her head so Gale couldn’t reach it.

“Jaheira and I will stay with her,” Shadowheart spoke, her worry etched deep in the frown lines by her lips. “We will need—”

“My sword is yours,” Lae’zel volunteered, pulling her blade out to lie across her lap. She sat with her back straight, eyes focused. A soldier on guard, disguising her concern for a friend.

Halsin and Wyll carefully flipped Tav onto her back. “Are we absolutely positive this is what afflicts her? Maybe she inhaled some spores from your pack—” he tried to reason with the older druid. 

“Urgh—To taste a druid’s blood would be a carnal delight—to dig his heart out from the depths of his ribs and feast upon the muscle. To mutilate his corpse over and over and over—”

Jaheira’s chuckle was void of humor. “Ignore the wisdom of an old crone, why don’t you?”

“Halsin, are you sure you want to listen to this?” Shadowheart asked.

Yes!—he wanted to scream—he was a healer, it was his duty, he would do it for anyone else.

But something else ate away at him as he watched Tav squirm and suffer, biting at her own cheeks when the absence of his flesh famished her. This felt personal somehow, as if everyone else was merely an obstacle on her way to him. He was her target. 

Yet, he didn’t feel threatened. If he was her target, then so be it. She was the one person his body wouldn’t let him abandon because it knew she wouldn’t abandon him.

Tav choked on her saliva as she yelled, “Your bones would be put to good use inside my—”

“I can handle it,” he announced, the nerves in his shoulders loosening. Karlach and Wyll reluctantly returned to their tents as Halsin settled down beside Jaheira. 

“Come back to us, little one,” he said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I know you are still in there.” 

Tav whimpered, registering his attempt at calming her. Helping her.

“Feel the grass beneath your cheek. The soil wetting your skin. Let the Oak Father tend to your mind. Let nature pull you from this dread. It can take it. You can will it.”

“I—I’m sorry.”

Astarion diverted his gaze, swallowing a gulp of air his body didn’t need. He blinked rapidly before stalking into the trees, Gale trailing close behind.

Tav was his best friend. Devastatingly enough, the one friend here who had not yet claimed their own autonomy. Someone who was being controlled, forced to move and act at the will of another. His spawn blood stole his choice and allowed others to steal bits of his soul. Tav’s tainted blood stole her choice as well, but forced her to steal the souls of others. 

To be at the will of something sinister, to be forced to say and do awful things because something compelled them to… Halsin’s heart clenched at the comparison. But it leaped as it finally understood why Tav and Astarion were attached at the hip. How they could possibly heal each other. 

According to Tav, Halsin said all the wrong things. Maybe Astarion was her one source of truth.

“Do not apologize to me. There is no need.”

“I am sick.”

“You are fighting,” Jaheira clarified.

Tav sobbed, whipping her head from side to side. “I’m sorry, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart waved a hand, her smile small. “I didn’t feel like sleeping, anyway.”

The hours passed slowly, painfully, until the worst of it cleared. Lae’zel woke Karlach and Wyll to inform them, and Jaheira retreated to the dimly lit fire to regain some strength. Shadowheart sat back and waited, another spell prepared. But Tav sat up with her help, then calmly sent her away. 

It was just the two of them, quiet enough that Halsin could hear the beat of her heart.

She breathed in deeply, her burnt-orange hair falling across her face. She looked so… small. Defeated. Nothing like the fighter she had presented herself to be these past few weeks. Sweat stained her night clothes, yet she dug her toes into the dirt to find a sliver of warmth. 

“They say silver is supposed to keep evil spirits away,” Tav laughed brokenly.

He nodded. “That they do. That it does.”

“And yet, I can still see myself in the mirror.”

Halsin didn’t think she was trying to insult Astarion in the same sentence, but he understood what she was trying to say. A vampire equaled an evil spirit, and thus Astarion couldn’t see himself in mirrors. What plagued Tav was evil no doubt, and yet she was forced to see herself.

“Silver also promotes healing.”

She shook her head. “That’s your job.”

After a long pause, she whispered, “No one can heal from this. He’s in my blood. I am his.”

They didn’t say anything else. 

Tav watched the weakening flames until the sun came up, and Halsin watched her.

---

“Um, excuse me? I can’t find my mum.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Honest to the Gods, Tav could have simply smacked the poor girl and the physical lashing would have been less traumatizing. The young girl visibly recoiled, taking a small step back and almost tripping over her orange cat. Halsin reached out, but she moved further away.

Minthara snickered at Tav’s comment, though she didn’t aid in the verbal beating of the child herself.

“She had these spots all over her face and chest. She went out for some herbs and was supposed to come back already. Said she’d be four days at most. That was a tenday ago, though,” the girl mumbled, Yenna, and played with the loose thread of her sleeve.

“Sounds like your mom’s dead.”

“Tav!” Halsin scolded, something alarmingly bold rising within him. Tav made no indication she was affected by his outburst. Neither did Minthara.

“May I remind you you’re speaking to a child. In the middle of a refugee camp,” Gale said, brushing his hand through the warm air. His tone was lighter than his own, thankfully. The only other time Halsin had seen Rivington so crowded was days after the shadow curse rippled through the land and pushed the first round of refugees in.

“Which makes my observation that much more factual,” Tav stated, boredom polluting her fine face.

Astarion choked out a laugh, resting a delicate hand over his heart. “Oh, darling. I’m sure we can find you another squirrel to kick that doesn’t have opposable thumbs.” 

Tav rolled her eyes. Astarion continued, “You were so quick to shelter poor Arabella. What’s different now?”

“I would die for Arabella. I don’t give a shit about her.”

Yenna, surprisngly, chuckled. Tav snapped her gaze to the girl, raising an eyebrow. 

Halsin cut off their line of sight, stepping in front of Tav. He asked, his tone ghostly like a warning, “Do you give a shit about children?” 

Again, Tav gave nothing away as to whether his threatening aura unnerved her. Instead, she side-stepped him and reengaged the girl. “What uses do you provide?”

“Gods, you’re miraculous,” Astarion swooned.

Yenna straightened, lifting her freckled chin. “I can cook.”

“Gale cooks for us.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Ah!” Gale bent a knee, the crack obvious. “That would be I! Do you know your way around spices?”

Yenna grinned, sticking her chest out as she placed her small fists on her hips. “Mum taught me! Said I could rival the best chefs in Baldur’s Gate someday!”

“It’s settled then! I have a new apprentice.”

Minthara clicked her tongue. “One more mouth to feed.”

Gale gave Yenna a miniature version of their map and showed her where to find their camp. The girl scurried away, calling after her cat. Minthara and Astarion quickly left as well in search of some fashionable day clothes, leaving Halsin to deal with Tav’s attitude. 

The drow watched as Gale engaged in yet another bright conversation with a local, her scowl deepening. Confusion settling in.

“What color does the girl give off?” he asked her, a futile attempt to quiet both her annoyance and his anger. She stayed watching Gale and did not move when he settled right beside her, their shoulders brushing.

“Don’t know yet,” she said. 

He shook his head. Though it didn’t measure close, Halsin was slowly approaching the level of outrage he had felt when confronting Kagha. “You were too harsh.”

Tav hummed, then turned to strut down the hill to buy some fish. Completely insensitive and horribly remiss. “Best show her what to expect from me early on, no?”

She handed the fisherman some coin and waited as he bundled the fish. His stomach grumbled, but it wasn’t enough of an attempt at distracting from the matter at hand. 

“Lay aside your pride for a moment. Show kindness to children, would you?”

“That’s your job. Not mine. I have bigger matters to attend to.”

Whatever happened to the gut-wrenching apology she spewed a few nights before? What happened to the kind soul he saw save the tieflings twice over without question, the soul who defended Astarion every chance possible, the soul that almost regurgitated her breakfast while building the courage to tell Arabella her parents had died? 

“I didn’t think you so ugly.”

He said it before his mind weighed the consequences.

“Oh? Well, I know that’s not true. I have plenty of suitors. I have fucked plenty of people. No complaints.”

A mask just as fitted as Astarion’s, it seemed.

He followed close behind, sneaking a refugee some coin as she traveled the road back to their camp. He called out, but she did not turn to him. 

“Your beauty is not what I am commenting on. You are turning ugly inside, and I do not blame your blood for it. No sane soul deprives a child of food and shelter, even if it’s for one night.”

She shrugged, her hair blowing in the wind.“I am not sane. Don’t you get it, Halsin?” 

He nearly ran into her when she stopped and turned, crossing her arms in defiance. “I am weak, and I will give in to these urges soon enough.”

He snarled. “I didn’t take you as fragile and pathetic.”

Her eyes flickered with something… pained. As if he stung her. Then as quickly as it appeared, it disintegrated into the poisoned pot she stored most of her emotions in.

“Maybe I should have killed you the other night.”

“Strike me with your words all you want. I can take it.”

But it actually did strike him deep for some reason. So badly it nearly made him wince. She laughed, the sound piercing through the air and slicing him in two. 

He didn’t talk to her the whole walk back.

---

“Do you hate me?”

Halsin perked up at Yenna’s small voice. He nearly fell forward with the weight of his head as he forgot he was lounging in wild shape by the campfire. He located Tav and Yenna by the barn, Scratch and the unnamed owlbear running circles around them. 

“Hate is a strong word,” Tav mumbled, the cleaning of her boots uninterrupted as Yenna sat down next to her on the log. She kept a respectable distance, twiddling her thumbs. 

“I seeked someone kind-looking,” Yenna explained.

“I am quite beautiful.”

“I didn’t say that.” To that, Tav did halt her work. She turned to meet Yenna’s eye, the poor girl trembling as she tried to redeem herself. “Wait! I only meant that you looked kind, too.”

Tav straightened, her brow scrunching. “I’ve never been told that.”

“Don’t your friends tell you?”

“They’re not my friends.”

A blatant lie, Halsin thought.

Yenna frowned. “Oh. That’s sad.”

Clearly exasperated, Tav set down her boots. “What do you want, Yenna?”

The girl’s blue eyes widened, a small smile sneaking onto her face. “You know my name.”

“No, shit. I have functioning ears.”

“Well, if you don’t hate me, then why were you so mean to me?”

Tav shrugged, but didn’t pick up her boots. Instead, she leaned back and pulled her long hair into a bun. Yenna watched her, fascinated by the fair highlights in Tav’s hair. Yenna had mentioned to him that her mother kept her hair short out of necessity, that it was easier to steal the essentials without the threat of leaving a strand of hair behind. Now, Halsin bet she would grow it out.  

Tav, the silver ripple in the water. 

“I’m dangerous, kid.”

“There’s a bear in our camp right now.”

“Besides that.”

“And a Sharran—”

“She’s reformed.”

“And a vampire!”

Tav pointed a finger. “The kindest vampire you’ll ever meet, too.”

“How can he be kind, but you are not?” Yenna argued, squinting her bright eyes. Tav met her stare, unfaltering, and in that small moment Halsin recognized Tav’s unmistakable admiration. With Mol, that admiration spawned the moment she foolishly asked for her to steal the idol. For Arabella, it had been when Tav found her parents in the House of Healing—the knowledge that it would crush her spirit, but not her soul. Yenna’s growing confidence in a singular conversation was what was winning her over. 

Tav sighed, angling her gaze to him by the campfire. Halsin quickly feigned sleep. “I almost hurt that bear for fun.”

“Oh.”

“Everyone had to tie me up and hold me down until my mind quieted.”

Shame laced each syllable. Yenna scooted closer to her on the log. “So, you were mean because you didn’t want to hurt me with your hands?”

“I’m surprised I haven’t killed the dog or the owlbear,” Tav muttered, then jutted her chin up, “Or that cat of yours.”

They sat in silence for a good minute, Yenna watching Tav continue to wash her boots and Tav side-eyeing the girl. 

Halsin actually believed he should have been harsher with Tav when they first encountered the girl, but perhaps he failed to see right through her. Tav had aided him always, aided multiple others and merely joked about coin in return. And when Tav had burrowed into his past, with his permission of course, and saw the weight of responsibility he had put on his own shoulders… They saw in each other what others couldn’t: the inescapable need to form such a mountain of righteousness so that it casted a shadow over their countless wrongs. But it was near impossible climbing the height they had measured themselves.

For what Tav had almost done to him, why subject an innocent child to the possibility?  

“Thank you for telling me,” Yenna said, then softly poked Tav’s upper arm. A childish gesture, one that seemed to shock Tav still for a moment. 

Clearing her throat, Tav said, “Just keep your distance from me while I sleep, okay?”

“Where’s your tent?”

“Right next to Astarion’s.”

“Good. Vampires don’t die easily.”

There was a noticeable quirk in Tav’s upper lip, a movement that had Halsin’s stomach swooping and the bear audibly groaning.

“Set up your bedroll near Karlach’s tent. She’s the only one here who is physically capable of stopping me.”

“What about the Githyanki?”

Halsin thought about it for a bit, too. If Tav were to have another uncontrollable episode and she did not provide them warning like last time, who would be able to restrain and who would succumb? Halsin would like to believe his reflexes were spotless, but he had been nicked in battle one too many times already. It was Astarion who watched his back, muttering about what a disposable, yet practical shield he had proven to be. Astarion could definitely outmaneuver Tav on dexterity and flexibility alone. Gale, Wyll, and Shadowheart would probably react too late. Jaheria would put up a good fight. Lae’zel and Karlach were the only two Halsin knew could survive the bloodshed.

“Well, she camps far away from us,” Tav said, pointing to the tent closest to the barn’s exit. “Not because she doesn’t like us, but because if there’s ever an attack, she’ll swing first.”

“And she’ll go down first.”

Tav winced. “I think that’s how she shows she cares. It’s the only way she’ll ever let it be known that she’d die for us.”

Oak Father preserve him, he never noticed that before. The bear whined, and Halsin turned his heavy head to try and catch a glimpse of the fighter in her tent.

“I’m not so scared of you anymore,” Yenna declared, smiling brightly. She was missing her left canine. 

Tav hummed, “I’ll make sure to treat you extra poorly in the morning.”

---

“Final question,” the blacksmith said, his voice lowering an octave. “Would you be able to turn your weapon on those closest to you?”

Tav lifted her gaze, irises darkening. “What kind of question is that?”

Halsin made to step forward, but the blacksmith clocked the movement before he fully could. A twisted smile painted his sweaty face. Tav did not balk, nor did she raise a weapon. She merely inspected him, tilting her head to the side as if the angle offered more. 

“It allows me to know just how sharp I should make your blade, how heavy I should make the handle. Should your blade drive through the meat of the one you love most, oh so easily? So easily that the spray of their blood angles directly into your waiting mouth? Should I make the handle light so that when your troubled hands tremble, you are still able to strike true?”

Astarion shook his head as if the words he was hearing were coming from the tadpole itself. He muttered a quiet what the fuck beneath his breath.

“Forgive us,” Halsin interrupted, his face drawn tight. “But we are no longer in need of your services.”

The blacksmith took an audacious step right into Tav’s personal space. Halsin acted quickly, throwing his hands out to push at his armored shoulders. The blacksmith stumbled, but his smile did not falter. 

“You have already tried to steal this family’s breath, have you not? You have imagined what their insides look like, what wonderful necklaces you can wove from each string they offer?”

Halsin growled, his eyes burning gold. “I will savor your own if you do not walk away right now.”

Tav looked up at him, her surprise sincere. As if she truly believed he wouldn’t risk his life for hers. He had told her he would back in his tent in the shadow-cursed lands, promising his ears as well for when her mind needed relief. At this very moment, he would draw his staff and return whatever vile energy the creature before them harbored back to the Oak Father, where his vengeance striked true. Anything for her, for it was the least he could do.

But before anyone could pull a blade, the blacksmith cracked his own neck in a gruesome display of brute strength. His shoulders lifted then popped. His back bent forward, and his feet turned inward. And in a single burst of red, a pale woman stood in his place. Even paler eyes accompanied her vicious aura.

“Blood-kin! You would have this mountain of a servant speak for you?” she laughed, her sultry voice penetrating his chest. It made his heart beat wildly, made the bear cower. “Oh, but I do so enjoy the taste of druid.”

Tav snarled, her fists clenching as she stopped herself from striking a fellow Bhaalspawn. “Orin.”

“Took you long enough,” she judged, wringing out the final cracks of her neck. “It seems my poking and prodding did little to disturb your mind-matter. Or, did it?” 

She winked at Halsin, then circled the two as if they were trapped in a glass box. “Do you not remember who you are? Who we were? What you have done?”

“I remember enough.”

Orin giggled, and swiped a bloody hand across Astarion’s chest. The pale elf stood his ground, but Halsin saw the way his throat bobbed.

“Tell your orc to move aside. My eyes crave the fighter you have become. Though, I much prefer you dripping with innards.” Orin smiled until her red teeth practically took up half her face. A pretty face, Halsin secretly admitted to himself. But there was no lust behind that truth. She looked up at him, taking that same hand that touched Astarion and running it down his own chest. The armor protected him from feeling such grimy fingers, but she pushed and swiveled them the longer he stood still. 

“I can easily step through you,” she threatened, standing on her tip-toes so her foul breath met his nose.

“Step through me, then.”

When the feeling of her slick tongue met his chin, Halsin froze. His stomach dropped a million miles into the Oak Father’s soil, and his nerves splintered one by one. He was back in the Underdark, chained to the most spectacular of bedposts, throwing his head back in shame as the drow matron rode him, as her claws tore across his throat—

Tav gripped Orin by the back of the neck and flung her several feet away. Orin caught herself on an unfinished blade and used it to stand again, paying no mind to the slice in her palm. Her smile held, but a few strands of blond hair broke free from her neatly-kept braid. 

“Have you fucked this one, blood-kin? Have you sucked him dry? Have you come on his thin lips? On his wonder of a cock? Have you killed him, fucked his corpse, and revived him yet?”

“You truly are the bitch of the Gate, aren’t you?” Astarion bit, picking at invisible dirt beneath his fingernails. “Let it be known that if you step through the druid, which I would love to see if I’m being honest, you would have to go through me next. And I am very hard to kill, darling.”

“A challenge! To kill the undead over and over and over again! So many possibilities.”

“Yes, how wonderful. If your bitch-self is able to do that, you would then face the githyanki. And there, you absolute swine, is where you would crumble.”

Tav stepped in front of Halsin, even daring to raise a dagger at her sister. “They are not the only ones who would aid me in your defeat, Orin. I’ve recruited Minthara, and she holds the most brilliant of grudges.”

Orin finally frowned. “Father will see us battle soon enough, Tav. That is the name you chose for yourself all those years ago, no? Oh, wait. Excuse me. The name your mother chose for you.” 

Tav's jaw tightened. 

“How she screamed and whined and begged you not to kill her and your adoptive siblings. How she writhed even as Uncle lifted you from her corpse.”

“I look forward to sinking my teeth into your fucking neck, sister.”

“And I will writhe with the pleasure of it, my dear slaughter-kin.”

Orin disappeared, and Halsin regained feeling in his legs. He reached for Tav, and for the first time since they had met, he took her hand into his own. Her fingers intertwined with his, the size difference settling something dark within him. 

“I can teach you my technique,” Astarion said, his light voice clearing the stale air. “It’s all in the turn of your jaw, see. Then place your canines delicately over the carotid—”

“Tav,” Halsin whispered, squeezing her hand.

“She’s a shapeshifter. A fucking doppleganger. Orin can infiltrate our camp and kill us all.”

Astarion moaned, his worry expertly concealed. “She won’t be able to. We know one another.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “If I repeat it multiple times, maybe I’ll believe it, too.”

“You’re scared?” Tav asked, absent of judgment entirely. Her tone was more sad, if anything.

“She’s terrifying,” Astarion confirmed with a laugh. Then, more seriously, “And she will not touch you.”

Tav shook her head, her grip on Halsin’s hand strong. “I don’t think she’s going to stop coming after us until I accept her duel.”

“Dueling for what exactly?” Lae’zel finally sheathed her sword, but her yellow eyes followed each gust of wind, each insect that flew across her vision, each movement her companions made.

Tav grimaced as she said, shame dripping off the two words, “Bhaal’s chosen.”

Lae’zel straightened. “Is that what you want?”

“You have no opinion on the matter.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

Tav pulled her hand from Halsin’s, and he immediately felt the coldness seep through his skin. The action was almost enough to deafen him from Tav’s next announcement. 

“Let’s see what Gortash has to say.”

He scoffed, though he didn’t mean for the sound to signify displeasure. “His opinion is allowed?”

“He knows about Orin. More than me, considering. I should use all the weapons in my arsenal.”

It took everything in him not to outright fight her. Instead, he nodded and immediately regretted it. “You know best, I suppose.”

Her readied insult died as she didn't expect him to fold so easily. She was left looking up at him, studying his eyes for any change. She was fighting herself, fighting something besides her need to battle his every word. 

She cleared her throat, hiding from his gentle stare as she asked, “Could you make me that tea later? The one that’s a little bit spicy.”

He bowed slightly. “Of course.”

“And you—you can share a cup with me, if you want.”

Halsin swore the gold glimmer he possessed dripped along his ribs. “Until later then.”

He watched Tav walk away with Astarion at her side, their arms locked and her head resting on his shoulder. What he would give for that level of closeness with someone—with her, even—instead of people simply using him and vanishing within the month.

“She is strong. We are strong. We will assassinate Orin and leave a trail of blood for her followers to lick clean,” Lae’zel firmly established, her presence doing nothing to quell the sudden emptiness plaguing him. 

“Is it wrong to doubt our abilities?”

Lae’zel clicked her tongue. “Am I to give the old druid wisdom?”

He chuckled, “Advice, more like.”

Ever since embarking on this mission, Halsin questioned his right to give advice at all. The Grove almost fell because he went chasing after the past, he nearly banished Minthara without hearing her plea, and he allowed Mol’s capture because he was too enthralled by a comatose Flaming Fist. Jaheira could take up the mantle of wise druid. He wasn’t worthy of it anyway.

“There is no room for doubt in this fight. We must press on, and worry about the consequences afterwards. Pray that there is an afterwards, that there are consequences.”

He and Lae’zel decided to buy some desserts for the group, wholeheartedly believing that sugar might make everything weighing their shoulders down just a little bit more light.

---

“Tell me about your time in the Underdark, please?”

Halsin never thought he’d bring the topic up ever, especially to a friend. Sometimes there are things best kept hidden away for the risk of all the original emotions carved into his skin bleeding freely again. He had never told anyone, truly. When hinting at it, he kept the story brief. The more serious aspects were always downplayed, and he purposely skipped information so that he didn’t need to reteach himself how to forget.

But as he sat on his bed at the Elfsong with Tav cross-crossed on the floor, sipping the spicy tea he had made, he felt the need to tell her a little more. He had a feeling that she would be able to handle it, and that he would be able to bear the repercussions.

So he told her. Every last detail, down to the smallest he was sure he had forgotten a hundred years ago. But this time he could not smell the drow matron’s perfume, or taste the patron’s poisonous saliva. He couldn’t feel their lingering touch, no, not when Tav held out her empty teacup and softly asked for more. 

“Perhaps that’s why you hated me in the beginning.”

A genuine laugh jumped from his chest. He savored the growing smile on her lovely face. “I have never hated you. Was I skeptical about a female drow saving me from the goblin camp when Minthara camped right upstairs? Yes.”

She smirked, then took a long sip of her filled tea. The events from earlier that day had seemed to evaporate in each sip, and it made him damn near giddy to know it was his tea doing that. 

Tav caught herself before she could lower her gaze, her eyes meeting his hazel ones. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Though it was something plenty of people had uttered before, it still gave him a sense of calmness. Of reassurance. “Once you’ve lived for as long as I have, bad memories begin to turn into something distant. Numb, almost. And with enough time, their past associations change.”

“You’ve… you’ve convinced yourself it didn’t happen?”

No. Triggers existed, but they were rare for him. Orin’s tongue had transported him to that bad place, but Tav’s touch brought him back. “More like I have convinced myself that it was not as bad as I once thought it to be.”

He survived. And though it was entirely non-consensual, he had enjoyed some days. There was shame in that, shame he will carry forever. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You deserved better, Halsin.”

His shoulders fell before he could collect himself. Tav noticed, like she always did. 

“You did what you had to in order to survive, and they met a violent end. A fitting end.”

He actually never found out what became of his captors, but it wasn’t likely they survived a week-long ambush. “I—Thank you.”

“Are you alright?”

“The stress of today. Of yesterday. Of what’s to come. It’s really taking its toll.”

She nodded, looking down at her tea. “Don’t tell anybody this, but I’m terrified of what’s to come.”

The pure honesty in her voice… Halsin couldn’t breathe. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me what Shadowheart’s favorite flower is. It’s a night orchid.”

The thought of Orin infiltrating their camp at all was enough to frighten even the bear, so much so that when Halsin attempted to bring him forward, that gold glimmer sparked and faded at his fingertips. 

“Shouldn’t the question be about you instead?”

“Shadowheart has only ever told me that. It’s one of the only things she remembers about herself. Orin would never know.”

Smart. He tried to think of something his companions had told him in secret, or something he had told them, but his mind fell blank. It wasn’t that he failed to get to know them properly, but that whenever he would lend an ear, he was simply the first of many. Which, in retrospect, was a proud thing. They were comfortable telling him first, but he did not hold their secrets for long. 

“If you ever suspect I am Orin, ask me about my mother. If my response isn't that she's doing well, you will know.” He was harboring no secrets of his own, besides the stirring of his heart for the drow sitting in front of him. “Everyone knows I am the last of my line. Orin would know it.”

“And if she takes someone else’s skin?”

“You know your companions well enough, no? It was me you were having difficulty with.”

Tav chuckled, and gulped the last of her tea. Standing, she went to grab his empty cup from his hands. “Thank you for the tea, Halsin.”

And before his mind could attach its wits to his mouth, he softly returned, “Anytime, my heart.”

Tav stilled, the cups rattling against each other as she held them close to her chest. Halsin counted the passing seconds, grappling with his common sense as his mouth formed around invisible words. 

Since joining this merry journey, his wisdom had plummeted to the depths of the Nine Hells. Stupidity flourished in his old, druid soul—

Tav scurried back to him, a dark blush coating her entire face. She planted a quick peck to his cheek, right on his tattoo. 

The gentleness of it lingered until he fell into a deep trance.

---

“Get away from me!”

Halsin startled awake, tripping over the damned sheets of his bed. He had never had blankets before. Or a mattress. Sure, when he shared beds with lovers he rested for a few hours, but he did not indulge in city culture while at the Grove. The only person who had a mattress was Nettie, and only because her back needed the support. 

Halsin wiped at his eyes to find Astarion backing away slowly, finding refuge by Tav’s bed. When the back of his knees hit the mattress, Tav stirred. She was up in an instant, a dagger pulled from underneath her pillow. 

“How in the Hells did you get in here?” she hissed. Meeting his eye across the room, he understood the signal to wake the others. One by one, as Tav and Astarion attempted to calm his siblings, Halsin shook his companions awake. Lae’zel and Jaheira took to the dark corners, Wyll and Gale spread out but lay low, Shadowheart drank a potion of invisibility, and he, Karlach, and Minthara picked up the heaviest of weapons to stroll straight into the quarrel with. The other vampires stared at them with bright, glowing eyes. Bristling, nearly twitching with each excited breath they took. 

Why didn’t Astarion’s eyes glow? Had the tadpole taken that feature away as well?

Tav succeeded in persuading Leon and Aurelia in seeing the truth behind Cazador’s lies, much to Astarion’s displeasure. He wanted her to lie, to tell them that they could all ascend by killing Cazador together. Halsin’s chest seized as he witnessed the craving of power in Astarion’s demeanor, and as he caught Tav hesitating in her speech. 

One of his siblings saddled closer to Karlach, mindful of the flames, but took a sniff nonetheless. Karlach recoiled. The spawn swallowed, ignoring Karlach’s reaction and Minthara’s glare, all to catch a whiff of his own blood. The spawn’s eyes glowed brighter, their irises vibrating uncontrollably.

The red glow was hunger. 

Astarion was no longer hungry. 

“By the absent Gods, Astarion… I believe you,” Leon said. But Aurelia clutched her stomach and groaned, whispering to Leon about how they couldn’t refuse orders. That Cazador was forcing them to kidnap Astarion, and a deal between them might as well be a joke. Leon pushed his sister behind him as he braced for a fight. Devastation glowed in his eyes, and he muttered a quick apology before he pulled a dagger from his pocket. 

Astarion raised his chin, empathy shown on his face. In his tone. “You can tell Cazador that when I find him, I will tear him limb from limb. I will smile upon his rotten corpse.”

Tav received the first slash. By stepping directly in front of Astarion. The pale elf’s eyes widened as he smelled her blood, her sacrifice. The very concept of mercy seeped from his mind altogether. He cut through his siblings desperately, dodging their blades and spells. 

Shadowheart stuck a blade in the spine of the smallest of the spawn, and fell backwards as they simply disappeared. Called back to their Master. Her blade lay bloody on the rug before it was suddenly picked up by Leon himself. 

And before he could drive it into her throat, Lae’zel burst from the shadows and tackled him. Her roar cracked through Halsin's eardrums, and an equally grating one sounded as she buried her blade deep in his abdomen. Same as his sibling, Leon disappeared from the Elfsong. 

It was pure luck he and his companions outnumbered them. He had just finished shooting an arrow through the shoulder of one aiming for Jaheira’s heart when he heard it. 

A quiet, garbled gasp. 

Tav gripped the dagger’s handle with both hands, leaving it inserted in her stomach. She merely stared at Aurelia. The spawn stared back, her lips trembling and head shaking in disbelief. 

Halsin was behind her in an instant, gripping her hair and swinging her to the floor. The spawn yelped, the last of her siblings infecting their camp. She scrambled backward, whatever she saw in Halsin’s eyes frightening her enough to abandon her own bow. He lifted her and slammed her against the wall, taking pleasure in her groan of pain. 

“Cazador would never let you die here, and yet you drive a blade through my friend’s skin?” he yelled, slamming her again. 

She cried, “Astarion! Please! He ordered us here, he ordered us to kill anyone who stepped in the way! I could not refuse. I could not refuse, I could not refuse, I could not refuse—“

Again and again she repeated it, tears staining her cheeks and drenching her collar. She thrashed, her throat clenching on itself. Again, again, again, again—

“Let her go, Halsin,” Astarion begrudgingly ordered, his bloody daggers limp at his sides. “She cannot disobey.”

“What and let her kill us? Let her take you?” he screamed over his shoulder. 

Minthara stepped forward, observing Aurelia with a sneer. “No,” she drawled. She sunk the broken tip of an arrow in the spawn’s throat. “We merely send her back.”

In a snap, she abandoned her orders for the sake of forced survival, following the rest of her empty-handed siblings. Halsin immediately dashed for Tav, kneeling in front of her to inspect the wound.

“Let me,” he said, his heart pounding.

“No.”

“Tav—“

“I told him I’d protect him and I almost failed tonight. I deserve this.” Still, she did not let go of the blade. The second she pulled, she would bleed out.

Halsin forced himself to breathe normally, shock enveloping his senses. Was that why she got involved with everyone and everything, put herself first in the face of danger, so she could somehow relieve their pain and take the brunt of it? 

“You deserve… pain?” he asked carefully. He had met others who self-harmed before, but he had never treated them directly. Nettie had always taken the lead role in those cases. And perhaps he wasn’t the best person to ask for help either, because his aged brain could only suggest they stop. 

Now, he understood why Tav did it—why she believed she deserved it. And instead of simply telling her to stop, he wanted to heal her from the inside-out so no thoughts like that ever afflicted her again.

“I deserve to be broken and pulled apart all over again, Halsin. I deserve to remember that torture Orin made me suffer.”

She tried to step around him, but Lae’zel’s glare halted her. He caught her arm before she could find an alternate route. 

Her breathing quickened. He loosened his grip, but still managed to tug her closer. To grip the blade’s handle himself. “It is a blessing you do not remember any of it.”

She smiled ruefully, fatigue dimming her eyes. “What do you think my punishment should be? More stabbings?”

“None whatsoever. Now, please let me tend to your wound.”

“If she really wants to break me, all she has to do is give me my memories back,” she laughed, though it was pained. From self-hatred or from the wound, he did not know. “But in her eyes, it would be a gift.”

Without much struggle, he laid her down and wordlessly instructed Wyll to bring fresh water and clean rags. She stared as he worked around the wound first, silent but present. Though no emotion painted her face, Halsin knew he wasn’t being scrutinized. There was something deeper there. Something akin to admiration, something holy. 

When Wyll returned and gripped Tav’s hand as Halsin quickly pulled the blade out, Halsin let his mind settle. He drowned out her cries and worked tirelessly, stitching her insides with magic and muttering sweet words under his breath. He didn’t think she was listening, but he said them just the same. 

“I couldn’t let them take him,” Tav breathed, her eyelids fluttering. “I think I was just as bad as Cazador, and if he had been taken…”

“You must not compare yourself to true evils, my heart. For you are not the person in absent memories, nor the person Orin wants you to be. I have it on good authority that Astarion would agree, and would kill you himself if you even matched Cazador in cruelty. For that, there is hope in your atonement yet.”

Somehow a smile broke through her exhausted face. “You are too nice to me.”

Halsin pulled the bedsheet over her healing stomach. And because she was barely conscious, he found the confidence to say, “Trust me, I am more than what I ever was when I am with you.”

---

“There’s absolutely no way, you little shit.”

Halsin had to blink so Tav’s words were processed fully. The way she spoke to children… At this point in their journey, there was only a sliver of guilt as he admitted he found it sort of funny.

Mol puffed out her chest, fists on her hips and face absent of an eyepatch. “Surprised to see me here? Well, right back at ya! Glad to see ya made it here in one piece!”

Tav listened intently as Mol described what she’d been up to all this time, all the trinkets she acquired roaming the Lower City, her new position in Guild. 

“Get away from my pockets, child,” Jaheira sneered, but there was a hint of pride hidden in her voice. In her slight grin. Something akin to respect. 

“I don’t need your scraps, ya old weirdo! I’ve got Nine-Fingers up my sleeve, a certain devil protecting my hide, and a handsome ol’ wizard slipping me scrolls whenever he can!”

Jaheira was unruffled by her insult, which made Mol even more assured. But the second she met Halsin's stare, a muscle in her jaw jumped, giving her away.

“Tell me you did not make that deal with Raphael, Mol,” Halsin pleaded.

“None of your business, tree-hugger.”

Wyll sighed, closing his eyes. “Raphael may talk sweet, but he’ll cut you quicker than you can beg. Whatever he’s promised, know that it cannot be met without repercussions or consequences. I should know, Mol.”

Tav set a gold chalice back on the wooden crate, leaning over to check out Mol’s jewelry collection instead. “Is that how you escaped Moonrise? And got your eyesight back?”

Her monotone voice confused the small tiefling—Why would two men care more about her situation? But Halsin recognized the trick. No sense of urgency, unlike all the other times she and Mol had met, would get her talking. Wanting to expand on her deal with Raphael just so she could prove that all she’s accomplished so far measured up to the way Tav saw her. 

“What’s the big deal now? I got out, and now I’ve gotta hold up my end.”

“Which is?” Wyll pressed. 

“He gave me a damn eyeball back! The deal could have been a lot worse.”

“Mol,” Halsin grumbled. 

“Thievery is my domain, druid. I’m his little thief.”

Wyll leaned in. “That’s all that was exchanged?”

Mol's nose curled. “Where’s ya head at, ya thick warlock? Of course that’s it!”

Wyll’s shoulders dropped. Halsin had never spoken to Mizora in the time she lounged around the Elfsong. Never asked Wyll to elaborate on their daily check-ins. Never asked about the other missions she had sent him on. Whatever Wyll shared with him, the group, Halsin was grateful for. 

Now he couldn’t stop wondering what his hands would look like wrapped around Mizora’s throat.

And he couldn’t stop the worry from hitting him square in the chest as Tav said her goodbyes. Would they leave Mol to the Guild? To Raphael’s slimy grasp? She and Yenna would probably get along, and Gods knew Yenna needed another girlfriend besides Karlach. 

“Here,” Mol said, handing Tav a pouch of coins and a sealed letter. “I trust you’ll deliver this for me?”

“Stupid assumption.”

Mol rolled her eyes. “Deliver it, will ya? It’s going to your favorite tiefling wiiiiizaaaarrrrd.”

Tav mimicked her voice, flicking the young tiefling off before turning on her heel. 

They can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here, they can’t leave her here… He can’t leave her here.

“Astele would sooner die than harm a child of the Gate,” Jaheira whispered to him. “And the child is smart enough to gain her trust in time.”

“This is no place for a child."

“No, it isn’t,” Jaheira agreed, raising an eyebrow. “But what of Geraldus? He made his choice, and it was an honorable one. I tried to stop him and got put in my place by our resident cub. What of Arabella, wandering alone and told to simply trust the Weave? We let her go, and our hope reigns. What of Mattis and Umi and Bex and Dannis? We cannot save everyone, but we can help them along their path.” 

“Is leaving Mol here helping her?”

Jaheira looked over her shoulder, eyeing Mol as she showed a child around her own age the proper hand movements to reach inside a pocket. “It is acceptance. It is trust. It is the knowledge that we are capable of stepping back when we have to. Mol has proven herself a hundred times over, and this deal with Raphael will only be a lesson. Besides, what hypocrite you are for telling the same devil you would consider his offer about the crown instead of disagreeing immediately?”

Perhaps Jaheira was right. For years, Halsin had put the needs of others on his shoulders regardless of their weight. Unoccupied now, his days felt empty.

Tav was doing the same and it seemed like only he could see the true consequence of it. Everyone else in their camp was occupied with their own predicaments, Jaheira now having to find and stop Minsc, so no one had seen Tav’s height lowering. Without the threat of the shadow curse, he was no longer blind. Though their companions cared for Tav’s wellbeing, they could not see past their own mist. He did not blame them—he was strong enough to help her, nourish her, lift her. By helping Tav, he would help himself.

“Does this change our plans with Raphael?” Wyll asked, worrying his bottom lip. 

“No,” Tav promised. She pushed the doors open and ignored the grumbling from the two guards eyeing her every move. “We kill the bastard, steal the hammer, and make damn sure Mol never finds out.”

Easier said than done.

---

The third time he heard Tav scream was when she delivered the final blow that brutalized Lorroakan’s insides. With her sword lifted high and Karlach’s boot in his neck, Tav sliced open his abdomen and pulled out his large intestine. Wet and red, Tav squeezed, seemingly savoring the squelching noise that bounced off the windows of Ramazith’s Tower. 

And when she moved aside to let Dame Aylin through, Halsin savored the sound of his spine splitting upon her blessed knee. 

They had stopped at Sorcerous Sundries right after seeing Mol, the coin purse all too tempting for Astarion. When they arrived and took immediate note of the bruises scattered across Rolan’s handsome face, Halsin knew they wouldn’t just be dropping off the coin. 

Rolan had done a good job at keeping his composure until the questions began. 

“I can take the beatings. When I mess up a spell, his beatings are a practical way to make me get it right the next time. My track record is impressive—”

“Discipline is to be given with purpose,” Lae’zel had bit, snarling. “Your bruises are scattered. Careless. Smack a soldier’s hand for fumbling their blade, not their cheekbones. Break a child’s fingers for stealing, not puncture their stomachs. Lorroakan is toying with you, tiefling. That is no good teacher.”

And when Rolan confirmed it, Tav’s face had fallen flat. Scarily detached. Lae’zel had a similar reaction, but she nodded her head as if agreeing with the unspoken decision amongst the group. 

Lorroakan would be dead before the sun set. 

Now, Rolan panted as he hurried to their side and examined what was left of his old Master. “He’s really dead. The bastard’s dead.”

Tav looted Lorroakan’s corpse and passed Gale the magical trinkets she would have no use of. 

“And I seem to be out of scrolls,” Tav commented, wiping blood from her forehead. Standing up with a groan, she did her best to give Rolan a true smile. But the fight was tough, so much so that she had spent most of her time throwing healing potions to Karlach, who insisted on being in the middle of it all. “Would the new Master of Ramazith’s Tower kindly sell me some? I’d be willing to pay double.”

Rolan’s eyes watered, but that signature arrogance seeped through as he straightened his shoulders and sketched a bow. Silver menace, Halsin thought. He and Tav were so similar.  

Rolan’s eyes lit up as he remembered, “I promised you a discount.”

Tav waved a bored hand through the air. “You promised Gale a discount.”

Rolan closed his eyes for a second before throwing himself into Tav’s arms, holding her as tightly as his sore arms allowed. Tav stiffened, her cheek squished against Rolan’s hard chest and the top of her head directly beneath his chin. She met Halsin’s eye and found only encouragement. 

She wrapped her arms around the tiefling and squeezed, her eyes closing in comfort. 

“Master Rolan… I quite like the sound of that,” Rolan joked, clearing the sentiment from his throat. “I shall move Cal and Lia in at once!”

“I’m going to need as many wizards in this upcoming fight with the Absolute. I would like my favorite wizard at my side.”

Astarion snickered beside Gale, even going as far as poking his elbow into his ribs. Gale simply waved him off. 

“You will have the full force of Ramazith’s Towers at your service.” Then, softer and sweeter, “Thank you, Tav.”

Tav practically sparkled. Halsin forced himself to look away, only to meet Karlach’s knowing gaze. 

“I’m just sorry I can’t kill him again,” Tav said. “Know that you are always welcome at our camp. That you can always ask for our help with bitchy customers or entitled explorers.”

“And you will always have a room here if you need it.”

---

Halsin found her on the roof of the Elfsong, Lakrissa having whispered the hint when he inquired about Tav’s whereabouts. With a wink and a promise of a drink later, Lakrissa confirmed what he had worried about. People were starting to notice his feelings, his desires… People were starting to see right through him. 

Tav finished tying her hair up when she looked over her shoulder and smiled. It hit him so hard he fumbled over his own feet, a blush crawling up his neck. Tav pretended not to notice, and said nothing as he moved to sit on the cushion beside hers.  

As she looked over the balcony’s edge, watching the birds fly in triangles and the leaves float through the wind, Halsin watched her. Her skin was lighter than Minthara’s, and the pale burn stretching diagonally from the top right of her forehead to her bottom left cheek definitely set them apart. He wondered if she picked up that scar from battle, from her early days as a Bhaalspawn, or from the torture she had endured and forgot at Moonrise. She had never commented on it, nor did anyone bring it up. Yet, Halsin prayed it was a simple story like his own scar, nothing fancy, and that the brutal violence that seemed to follow their heels was altogether absent. 

With her hair up, he was able to outline the scar. Unable to control the desire to run his thumb down the extent of it. But he reeled it in, and sat beside her with his hands in his lap. 

“You know… I at least have an excuse for my violence. Lorroakan was just a bastard,” Tav suddenly shared, a worn chuckle breaking through. “But then again, going off of my logic, Orin has a valid excuse, too.”

“Orin is a different breed.”

Her mouth fell into a frown. “If she would have been kidnapped and infected with a tadpole, you would be sharing your tea with her. Rolan would be thanking her. You would be confiding in her.”

Halsin did not believe that true for one second. Orin was frightening, and the added effect of a tadpole was sure to make her everyone’s worst nightmare. Still, he replied with, “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

Tav grumbled, unsatisfied. What else could he say? That she got out but her sister didn’t? That she was given a new chance at life and her sister was still wreaking havoc underground? Was he supposed to feel sorry for Orin? 

“I am one God’s chosen,” Tav whispered, then turned to him with a flicker of hope in her mismatched eyes. “But do you think I can pray to another god?”

“Yes.”

“Is your Oak Father free?”

“Silvanus?” he asked, the fluttering of his heart nearly booming in his ears. He wondered if she could hear it, if her own matched his rhythm. “Look at where you sit. You are surrounded by his creations, even if they are muted in this city. The air you breathe, the ground you walk on, the flowers you smell. Silvanus asks for little in return, other than nurture nature, each other, and yourself. If you are worried about whether or not Silvanus will hear your prayers, do not be. He hears them, and does what can be done.”

“I have killed hundreds of people. I have mutilated their corpses, stolen their coin, desecrated their gravesites.”

“Forgiveness is something all gods offer.”

“But do I deserve it?”

No longer a boom, but a crack echoed through his ears. 

“Does Astarion deserve it after all the souls he brought Cazador?” he asked.

“He’s changed,” Tav declares, defensive, “And the gods never answered him.”

“Perhaps his change and his current situation is answer enough.”

Yet another thing that maddened him. Why did no God answer Astarion’s pleas? Why was he discarded, as were his siblings, and forced to endure two-hundred years of pain? Why did Astarion have to change at all to gain recognition? He was split on whether Silvanus would help an undead creature, one who couldn’t even harvest the sun's bounty. Did the Oak Father consider Astarion an undead with a soul in need of saving, or an undead with nothing but a masked scent?

Would the Oak Father consider Tav a soul worth saving after she had stolen the very souls he sprouted? Was change enough for both her and Astarion that he would practice benevolence?

Tav sucked in a deep breath. Shame suddenly etched across her face, as did an unsatisfying flush in her cheeks. Her mouth opened slightly around an invisible word. He waited, and offered an encouraging smile.

“I don’t remember kissing anyone who wasn’t dead,” she admitted, her voice wholly dejected. As if this one admission was enough to squander any acceptance from Silvanus. “My memories are vague, of course. But I do remember one man. His heart was beating. I don’t think I ever killed him.”

Halsin had to tread carefully or else the reopening of her wounds could prove dangerous. 

“Did you want to kiss your victims?”

She paused. “I think Orin wanted me to.”

“Do you see Orin in those memories?”

“I see her laughing.”

What in the Hells was their dynamic like? Though not related by blood, Orin had played the role of evil elder sister and Tav the role of evil little one. But had Orin been the most depraved of the two? The most abhorrent and wicked? Was Tav a subject of immorality, but able to control her urges more often? To be a Bhaalspawn and to not resist the urge to maim… Tav’s blood was diluted, while Orin had been pumped full.

If Orin had been kidnapped and infected, Halsin wholeheartedly believed he would have died by her dagger that night, that the Grove would have fallen, that the shadow curse would have never been lifted. 

“She may have ordered me to do that stuff, but I still did it. I killed to honor my father, but kissing them? That was to satisfy Orin. To satisfy something darker than the urge. And when we saw Rolan today… I snapped. All I could see was his unwillingness to adhere to Lorroakan's insane orders. I saw his fear. And if any of my victims had felt that way, then avenging Rolan was as much of an apology as I could ever give them.”

To live a life with the knowledge it wasn’t entirely full, that there was a separate personality all along…

Halsin cleared his throat, shuffling the slightest bit closer to her. She stayed where she was, but marked his movement. “Do you remember anything else about that man you mentioned?”

Tav thought about it for a second. Something curious flashed across her face, but he couldn’t name it. “I—I just remember a gold hand.”

Dragonborn, maybe? He didn’t voice the theory obviously. 

But what he said next surprised him enough that his mouth dried instantly. 

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Tav’s eyes widened. “I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you.”

She chuckled, embarrassment evident in how she twiddled her thumbs. Her nails clinked together, the shine of the purple metallic polish sending a shiver down his spine. Oh, how it would feel to receive fresh, consensual scars from her. 

“The Oak Father won’t call it a disgrace?”

“I am positive he won’t,” he assured her. He moved closer, careful to not loom over her. Their knees touched. “I can be your beating heart.”

“And you want this?”

This was the time to be truthful. To bathe in the confidence he had cultivated and perfected by his hundredth year. To admit to her that what he was feeling was something else entirely than what his body had told him to feel for years. “For a long time, if I’m being honest. I go where my heart leads. It would be a lie to say you haven’t surprised me. Encouraged me, astonished me. You are magnificent. A beacon of hope, even if the shimmer is burning you from the inside-out.”

“I don’t want to simply be another notch on your belt.”

“Do not ever reduce yourself as such. My heart does not stir lightly,” he tried to reason, tried to pretend that her words didn’t hurt.

“But that’s what it is, Halsin. I appreciate the gesture, but I respect your place in nature. You are a creature who cannot stay in one place for a long time, and granted I am, too. Though I see myself moving with only one person on my arm, forever. If I ever beat this curse of mine, I want the choice. I want the opportunity. And I want to be someone’s only choice, selfishly.”

“I—”

“I am not asking you to change yourself for me,” she said, her breath quickening. “I know there have been plenty of lovers and there will be plenty more. But I have stolen loves from so many people. I have stolen their opportunities. It does not feel right to indulge, and it doesn’t feel right to indulge with you.”

“Perhaps I mistook our relationship, or rather our… tension, wrongly” he explained, masking his pain.

She let out a frustration moan. “I want you, but only if you’re just mine. And I can’t have you, because that’s not my fate.”

She believed that she did not deserve him. That he was a prize? Halsin couldn’t think of himself as such, nor could he believe that she was punishing herself so. But as he remembered how she stepped right into the path of danger when Astarion’s siblings attacked, how she did not want to be patched up, it finally made sense. 

Atonement. Atonement in the form of punishment. The punishment of loneliness. 

Like Gale, who hid himself away after absorbing the darkest Weave. Having no one to speak to besides Tara, besides letters with his mother. Who tried his hardest to create distance between him and Astarion, but failed when the vampire lured him with nothing but sweet, honeyed words. Like Karlach, who tried her hardest not to sneak away at night to visit Dammon. But with the Elfsong so close to his newest forge, she could not help overstepping her self–inflicted choice. Like Wyll, who made a deal with a devil and accepted exile. Who couldn’t speak the truth and fell into the belief that maybe he wasn’t ever meant to. Who would rather his father hate him from afar than know what he had become.

“What do you believe is your fate?” he asked, perhaps a little too harshly.

“To help all of you. Save Baldur’s Gate. And then die.”

He stood, his muscles straining as he tried to relax. He gripped the balcony’s edge. She did not move from her spot, frozen as she stared and burned through the back of his head.

And like Gale, Tav had chosen to blow up any chance at long-term redemption. Like Karlach, Tav had chosen to burn when it was all over. They had all chosen wrong.

How to prove to them that they were worth everything and more, how to prove that the world was better with them in it? How to prove to Tav that he wasn’t sure he was a wild heart anymore, and that maybe, just maybe, she was the reason. 

Selfish as she was apparently, he wanted to prove that he was ten times worse.

“A single kiss then. I ask nothing more, and expect nothing else in return.”

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow upon her scarred face. The heat was touching her, and oh how he envied it so. “Why?”

He turned, lifting his chin so that all she could see was sincerity. “Because you have been deprived of it. Because you are over a hundred years old and do not remember the caress of another. Because Bhaal has made you desensitized.”

“So, pity then?”

“Because it would be your choice.”

She glanced down at her hands, at the brick beneath her cushion. Whatever quarrel she was having with herself looked tiring. And Gods did he want her to relent. 

“Out of everyone here,” she breathed, “I don’t know why I only want to kiss you.”

His own breath came faster as she stood and walked to him. Placing a hand upon his chest, she caressed the fabric. Curiosity bloomed in her irises, and he let her roam for a minute or so. Let her have the chance at feeling another living being. She rested her palm over his heart, and muttered her count.

“Ten,” she said, closing her eyes, “Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Endless,” he confirmed, reaching up to take that same palm in his hand. Though he recognized the lust in her eyes, he also saw the fear. He was so much taller than her, so much older, and in her opinion, good. But she had forgotten the bloodthirst he had in the goblin camp, the hand he had wrapped around Kagha’s throat, the fact that Isobel had fallen all those years ago because of his blade. If they were comparing their misdeeds, they were equal.

“Whenever you say stop,” he said, leaning down so their lips brushed, “We stop. Okay?”

Tav did her best to nod, but Halsin recognized that dazed movement anywhere. She was floating. 

“Come back to me, little one.”

With that, the glaze in Tav’s eyes disappeared. She leaned forward, pressing further until their lips moved as one. Halsin used a single finger to lift her chin, the kiss slow. He was in no hurry to rush it, no hurry to end what should be their only kiss. This was a transaction of sorts—

Tav wrapped a desperate hand around the back of his neck, pushing her upper body against him. In turn, their kiss deepended. Nearly ravenous, but full of all that bashfulness she had expressed earlier. When was the last time he had participated in such a chaste kiss? In his youth, surely. His past lovers were scattered, none staying around for more than a month. And he was just as guilty when it came to long-term predicaments. The bear roamed, and he answered its call. 

But here, with Tav’s lips molding so beautifully into his own with innocent need, he experienced the combination of love and lust. He wanted to continue kissing her, no matter where it led. He wanted to kiss her tomorrow, no matter the bear’s torment. He wanted to kiss her always, and be all she ever wanted. 

Tav pulled him in deeper, hungry, gaining more confidence as he followed her lead. He didn’t need to teach her anything, it seemed. Whether this was instinct or because she too felt the overwhelming desire to burrow into his skin, Halsin was more than happy to be her practice doll, more than happy to explore all impulses. Good or bad. 

Gods save him, good or bad. 

“Kiss me harder, please,” Tav pleaded, the gravel in her voice causing him to harden. He made sure his hips didn’t meet hers. But she was pushing deeper, stepping forward and neatly entangling their legs together. Halsin backed up, mindful of the balcony’s edge. He sat carefully and let her push herself between his open legs, and at this angle they were practically face to face. Tav kissed him harder, slipping her tongue over his bottom lip. A question. 

He opened his mouth and finally tasted her, groaning lowly. When they arrived at the Gate, their fruit assortment expanded. Here they were able to indulge in more than just apples and oranges. Tav tasted of kiwi and the lemon she squeezed in her morning tea. She tasted of the butter buns he always caught Karlach stealing, of the cinnamon cookies Yenna had tried her hand at baking yesterday. He knew he tasted of that same tea, but Halsin had found himself indulging more in grapes and cinnamon rolls Cher Rover saved specifically for him. Separating from Tav now would be a crime to everything sweet. 

“Halsin,” Tav rasped, her slender hands coming around to cup his scarred cheeks. He kept his own at her waist. “A single kiss.”

“A single kiss,” he repeated, sharing her breath. He dove in for more, their statement ignored and the two unbothered. They could extend this single kiss for hours and technically be right.

She suddenly gasped, stiffening against him. Her face pulled tight.

“Tav?” Halsin tried, worry spiking to the point he tried standing. Tav did not move, her grip on his shoulders too strong. 

Her eyes were watery with sorrow as she opened them. “I had a vision of pushing you off the balcony.”

Halsin held his breath. She made no move to do so. 

A nervous laugh escaped him. “I could just shapeshift into a bird, my heart.”

She waited, her mouth opening and closing awkwardly. The mere absurdity of the situation drew a short laugh from her, her eyes clearing simultaneously. She slid her hands down his neck, then settled them on his chest. Pulling back so their noses brushed, Tav nudged him slightly in question. Halsin nodded, completely basked in the glow of her exploration. Tav traced his curves and grooves, his scars and age marks, starved for touch alone. And when she reached his waistband, he pulled back to ask the same of her. 

She nodded, and he moved his hands up. 

Together they learned the whispers of their fingers and just how long they could hold their breaths. Together they slid their bodies closer, moving against one another to apply the necessary pressure needed to reach that delectable edge. Halsin kept his thick thigh planted between her legs, groaning as Tav rolled her cunt against it, chasing her high at a slow pace. 

Though she was desperate to feel such bliss with a willing partner, she did not rush it. Halsin didn’t want her to either. He would stay up here for hours, learning her likes and dislikes, learning how to properly sketch the length of her body with his tongue. 

“Gently,” he coaxed, bringing a hand up to tangle at the back of her head. He pulled her face from the crook of his sweaty shoulder and held her there, burning their gazes together as she took his order into consideration. She slowed her movements but bent deeper, so much so that her weight alone forced him to swallow down the savageness of the bear. “That’s it. There you go. I want you to learn your body first before you learn mine.”

“Fuck,” Tav rasped, bringing both hands to his head to mimic his grip. Halsin bit his lip to keep from pushing his hips up. She moved faster, no doubt the glow in her stomach at a full frenzy. 

“So beautiful,” he continued, his voice now at the lowest register he’d ever heard. Everything about this felt different—her scent relaxed his very core, her weight fought and won against the weight of his responsibilities, her noises sank deep into his chest and melted along his ribs. In his three-hundred and fifty years, he had never experienced such a connection. He would like to believe that he had been attentive to past lovers, but Tav… He wasn’t even actively providing the pleasure and yet she had destroyed his concept of sex from the inside-out.

“Make yourself come,” Halsin said, tempting her even further by pulling her in for a searing kiss. Tav whined, her hips losing their rhythm—

The hatch opened before Tav reached her climax, paralyzing her against Halsin’s chest. He held her tighter, and shot daggers at their intruder over her trembling shoulder. 

Wyll stood on the ladder wide-eyed, clutching his chest as if the scene before him had prompted heartburn. His face flushed with embarrassment, and he stuttered over his apology. “I can just… go get fresh air in the street.”

As the hatch shut, Tav removed herself from Halsin’s protective grip. He could not stop his body from reaching out for her.

“Tav.”

Backing away on wobbly legs, she did her best at offering a practiced smile. “Goodnight, Halsin.”

Later, when they rescued Minsc and dealt with the aftermath, Tav avoided his eyes and overcompensated with their newest arrival. Loud jokes, prolonged questioning—it made Halsin want to hide away forever, or until his beating heart called another’s name.

---

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tav whispered, though her moan gave her away. Her slender fingers rose along his hips, tugging at his waistband. He had left his shirt behind, embracing the chill of nature. If he was going to bed Tav in the flowerbed near the Elfsong, he would do so with as little clothing in the way. The quicker his flesh met hers, the quicker the fire in his heart would settle. Though, Tav’s panting gave it the oxygen to thrive. Her tongue licked the flames, burning him brightly, to the point he dropped to his knees with all thoughts scorched except one. 

He devoured her, swiping his tongue along her slit and soaking up all she gave. She yelped, her fingers combing through his loose hair. She had taken his braids out one-by-one hours ago, massaging his scalp and whispering sweet-nothings along the sensitive skin of his pointy ears. Now, she gripped and pulled, relishing in the vibrations his groans made against her most intimate flesh. She pulled him in deeper, slapping one hand back against the stone of the building. Their companions could surely hear them—the windows were knocked open. And the thought invaded just as quickly as she came on his eager tongue: Astarion or Shadowheart—Gale—watching from the windowsill and getting themselves off at the same time. Learning from watching Halsin feast, from watching his cock drive into the beautiful woman wailing his name. 

“Halsin,” Tav breathed, pulling him up to stand. He let her use her strength, let her be in charge, guiding him in all places. “Fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t help crying your name. Fuck me and claim me as yours, forever. Come inside me, mark me as yours.”

The bear nearly broke loose, territorial to the highest extremes.

Halsin drove into her slowly, deeply, the squeeze stealing the air in his lungs and threatening to knock him out. She felt divine, like nothing he had ever felt before. He had many lovers, but none had wrapped around him with both sex-crazed madness and lo—

Halsin sucked in a gust of air, shooting upward in his bed. The beds at the Elfsong creaked when one changed position, and he had no doubt he had awakened someone close by. The nearest bunk to his left was Minthara’s, and Astarion to his right. But neither moved to indicate they heard him or scented his obvious arousal. 

Cursing softly, he laid back down and tried to steady the beating of his heart. Tav was far away enough, bunking near Karlach tonight, that she wouldn’t suspect anything. Hear anything. And he prayed the two nearest him wouldn’t hate him for this. 

Halsin reached below the sheets and gripped his hardness, shutting his eyes as that touch alone threatened to make him audible. Slowly he dragged his hand up and down, stopping at the tip to swipe. The quicker he got this over with, the quicker the shame could come and go. 

Tav had not sought him out after their kiss and… heavy-petting session, but he had seen the heat in her eyes. A promise that she had enjoyed their time together, his touch. The memory of that silver fire had him moving his hand faster. He reached to cup his balls with the other, biting his lip as the pleasure at the base of his spine grew. He remembered how her hips moved over his, how her mouth tasted, how her arousal smelled. How he had to keep the bear caged, and that made his grip on her even tighter. But it seemed Tav liked that, liked his roughness, and wanted to deliver the same amount. 

The pleasure built and built, until it finally erupted. Halsin choked on a shout, grinding the side of his face into the pillow. Pulling until he milked himself dry. He lay there panting, eyes shut as the guilt slowly crept along his extremities. 

“Darling, I at least have the good graces to please myself in the comfort of my own tent or in the bathroom.”

Halsin froze, and his stomach rotated when Minthara’s voice answered the vampire.

“Lies, Astarion. You haven’t pleased yourself in weeks. You have the wizard to thank for that.”

Astarion choked on his retort, but said nothing to contradict it.

---

“You’re here. Orin was telling the truth.”

Tav crossed her arms as she glared at Gortash, clicking her tongue when she noticed his eyes wandering. She was wearing thin armor today, tight around the waist and non-restricting around the neck. Halsin had stared for a long while before they had left their rooms, readjusting his trousers when she purposely bent down to grab her weapon of the day. She had winked, lifted her skirts to expose her thigh, and whispered a promise of lifting it higher when they returned. 

Now, as Gortash made a meal of her, it unsettled something greedy in Halsin. He had no right to shield Tav, but there was grime in the villain’s eyes. And he was done convincing himself he would feel this affected with just any lover.

Tav ignored Gortash’s initial surprise, allowing Wyll to take the lead.

“My father, Gortash. Let him go—”

“Oh, but I wasn’t talking to you, Wyll Ravengard,” Gortash snapped, a smile still playing on his pale lips. He gave Wyll an unimpressed once-over, then turned back to Tav. “My favorite little assassin… Tell me, how has the holiday been?”

"I could've done with less cultists, you absolute lunatic."

Wyll held his breath.

“I know it was Orin who kidnapped me from Baldur’s Gate. I want to know why.”

Gortash wasn’t exactly handsome, especially not when he frowned. The action seemed to drag his stress lines further. But he held himself like a man with power, and with power came confidence. 

“By the gods, they weren’t kidding. You truly don’t remember any of it, do you?” he said, huffing a simple laugh, one that scraped the walls of Halsin’s skull. “Why, it was us who orchestrated this grand design in the first place.”

The entire audience hall seemed to freeze as they processed Gortash’s outlandish claim. 

Tav swallowed, her lilac cheeks losing all color. “What?”

He made his way down the stairs, his robes swinging with each powerful stride. Tav stood her ground, but Karlach pointed her long ax at the new Archduke. Halsin inched closer to Tav as well, but he was more mindful of the rattling Steel Watch targeting Karlach.  

Gortash dismissed the metal monstrosity. He stood close enough now that Halsin smelled the city and a hint of rosemary on him. 

“The tadpoles, the brain, opening a Hells gate, the cult, everything. And Orin went and betrayed you, wanting the stones all to herself. Betrayed us.”

“It was… It was me? All of it?”

“Our raid of Mephistopheles’ lair will be spoken about in the Hells for centuries.”

“The crown…” Tav whispered, the memory of its abduction no doubt swimming in her mind. Then guilt clouded her features—for all of it. The infestation, the deaths they caused, Gale’s obsession with Karsus’s forbidden magic. She was spiraling, blaming herself for all it—

“My pretty little mastermind,” Gortash practically purred, raising a hand to gently swipe it down her cheek. Halsin growled, a low glimmer of gold coming off of him. Gortash grinned savagely. “I have tried to keep everything in order in your absence. All the things you entrusted me with.”

“What the fuck is going on here?” Karlach screamed, alerting some Flaming Fists. Again, Gortash dismissed them with a simple wave.

“How do you know him?” Karlach inquired further.

Tav turned to the tiefling. “I—”

“Don’t tell me you forgot. Orin really did a number on you, didn’t she? Always a lapdog, she was. Begging to be Bhaal’s chosen ever since she learned how to whine. But she is careless, and too distracted.”

Gods, it made so much sense. The tadpoling center under Moonrise, Orin’s vendetta, Gortash’s odd truce. His chest ached with the need to hold her, to remind her that that wasn’t who she was anymore. She had changed, brought about a change in Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale, Minthara—

Him. 

If he could take her away from all of this, meet her in the afterglow, he would sprint and never look back. She had done so much good these last few months and Gortash’s jealous speech was a threat to her already fragile sanity. 

“You… You worked with strategy. You had a purpose. You were determined. I tolerate Orin, but I liked you.”

He followed Tav’s distressed gaze to the golden glove encasing the purple netherstone. 

The gold hand.

“We worked all through the night, you and I. Perfecting this scheme. When you disappeared, I admit I worried for your safety,” Gortash said, his irises darkening. “I missed you.”

Halsin didn’t have to move—Tav reached for his hand and gripped it tight. Gortash noted their connection, but his smile only grew. A more tame twin of Orin’s, it seemed.

“What was I to you?” Tav insisted. “What were you to me?”

“This cannot be happening,” Karlach cringed, several dramatic gags accompanying her declaration.

Gortash rolled his eyes. “A travesty Orin erased so much. Perhaps I shouldn’t reminisce with your companions present.”

“Tell me what I did.”

Karlach gave an incredulous gasp of protest, but Tav remained adamant. 

“What you did… Enthusiastically, might I add. Seeing you now is overwhelming. The way your lips tasted, how your eyes would roll to the back of your head, your neck bared for me. I heard there is a spawn in your company… Do you give your neck to him? Do you scream for him like you screamed for me?” 

Tav snarled as Karlach exclaimed, “Liar!”

“Do not be a child, Karlach,” Gortash snapped. “Tav and I, two adults, were together even while you were by my side. I’m surprised you never met.”

“A secret,” Tav confirmed, though her statement came out more as a shameful question.

“It saddens me that you don’t remember anything but that. Perhaps we can come to an agreement over this Ravengard business.”

“What did you have in mind?” Wyll chimed in, seemingly unmoved by the revelation. If his relationship was something other with her, Halsin would too disregard Gortash’s claims. Tav’s past sex life was none of his business, neither was it Wyll’s, but the fact Gortash had such a lively role in it… The one living soul Tav remembered touching…

Something dark stirred in the pit of his stomach, its claws begging to rip open its cage and eviscerate his opponent. The bear had disemboweled plenty of enemies, but this one—this one Halsin wanted to tear apart with his bare hands.  

Gortash lowered his voice as he spoke next, enough of a signal that the surrounding Fists turned their heads. 

“I will hand over Duke Ravengard right now with a promise to keep him safe, if…” he trailed off, bowing his head to chuckle. “Listen to me bargaining. How unbecoming of me. I am a dealer, not a trader.”

“Speak plainly, Gortash,” Wyll pushed, the hair-raising tone causing Gortash’s brows to rise.

He turned to Tav. “If you agree to spend the night with me, Ravengard walks freely.”

“No deal.”

They were the first words Halsin had spoken since entering the audience hall. He couldn't give less of a shit for intruding on what was obviously Tav’s decision. 

“Halsin—” she hissed.

Gortash laid an elegant hand over his own chest. “How marvelous! Does he speak for you? Is no your answer, too?”

“It’s a no because I don’t want to touch you.”

“You begged for it before.”

Tav bared her teeth. “I won’t anymore.”

“Wyll? If you’re anything like your father, you’ll have some sense. Your father’s freedom, for her cunt.”

Wyll recoiled, his disgust multiplying as Gortash raised his hand yet again to brush Tav’s cheek. This time, however, Halsin shoved the man away. 

And was promptly held back by two Fists. Thrashing, Halsin fought to keep the bear within.  

“May the gods smite you, Gortash. May this land turn on you in your hour of greatest need,” Wyll threatened, taking the words right out of Halsin’s mouth.

Gortash raised a single brow, unimpressed. “Interesting company you keep nowadays. If you won’t give me what I desperately crave,” he drawled, causing a visible shiver to crawl up Tav’s spine, “then we shall explore other roads.”

“One more word from you and I will kill you.” The Fists were hesitant to grab Karlach, and the look she shot at them severed the idea completely. "And that was a trade, you dumb motherfucker!"

“Oh, but you’ll want to hear this, Karlach. I am on your side. I want nothing more than to save this city and rule side-by-side with Tav here. I am a fair man. And to show you I am a man true to my word, I shall warn you.”

“Threats? Seriously?” Karlach fumed.

“Not from me. By now you’ll have found out that Orin is a shapeshifter. And I warn you that she will strike soon. One of these nights, when you feel safest, she will deceive you.”

“And what do we owe you for this information?” Tav spit, lifting her chin.

Finally, Gortash intertwined his hands behind his back, seemingly aware that Tav was not going to take his absurd deal. Strangely respectful in that sense. 

“Kill Orin, reclaim your birthright, and make an ally of me.”

“Despicable piece of shit.” 

Gortash gestured at the Fists to release him. Halsin remained where he was, and he could have sworn relief flashed across Gortash’s face.  

“Kill Orin, bring me her stone, and I might just prolong the protection of your father, Wyll.” He turned back up the steps, his confidence stitching itself back into his body as it realized the audience was still looking at him. “Think about it, Tav. I am no liar, and my respect for you knows no bounds.”

That night, Tav drank herself to sleep and took residence in one of the booths downstairs. As annoyed as Alan was, he didn’t force her to leave. With the candles blown out, Tav remained curled-up on her side and blissfully unaware of the world around her. Responsibilities that once shackled her were drowned out, reality but a speck on the horizon. 

Halsin covered her with a blanket before retreating to the steps in the far corner. He sat at an angle where he could see her, foregoing sleep, and did not leave until the hangover roused her.

x

Part 2

[vigilskeep]

what do you think zevran's opinion would be of the dark ritual and the warden who did it?

zevran is typically unflinchingly practical about sex, blood magic, and doing whatever it takes to survive. i can’t imagine that he would disapprove of the dark ritual in itself, especially when the warden’s life is so dear to him. he’s also more sharply aware of morrigan having a plan ahead than the others are, and i don’t think her pulling off a last moment plot twist would be quite so much of a shock to him

i think he would object to dishonesty about it, with regard to a male warden who actually does the dark ritual himself. zevran makes it clear the warden is free to pursue whatever they wish, but he also says “if whatever is between us cannot be honest, let it not be at all” rather than let them continue romancing him and another companion. so while it’s different to uhhh the more ordinarily motivated kind of cheating, i could see him reacting badly to a warden who actively tries to hide it. otherwise, i’m interested in what he’d think of, say, pushing alistair to do it. not that he’d judge the warden or make a different choice himself but i think for alistair’s sake he’d be sorry that it had to be like that

but yes i think zevran would always uh vote in favour of the ritual, especially so the more he cares abt the warden. i think his heartbreak and betrayal would absolutely be from a warden who did not do the ritual. it’s a hell of a thing to learn to want to live again by someone’s side and then have them cast their own life away when there was another choice

i’d like to think his sharpness of perception when it comes to morrigan, which originates from how alike they are, would make him think of her side of this, as well. i at least think that he understands better than anyone what morrigan has to give up by leaving the warden behind. i’m not sure what his feelings would be on kieran if he’s the warden’s child... i think he’d be curious, mostly, because it’s hard to know what to expect from what morrigan says in dao. zev would be a bit baffled by him and also have a grand time playing the stepfather lmao. and i think he’d be glad for him, knowing as well as he does that many children have far less than a mother with the strength and care to protect them

[hijackalx]

BG3 NON-COMPANIONS/NON-ORIGIN COMPANIONS TURN ONS/KINKS +18

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

characters included: halsin, minthara, jaheira, gortash

*dark content warning for gortash*

HALSIN

SIZE DIFFERENCE

OBVIOUSLYYYY lmao. he loves how small u are in comparison to him. i mean everything about him is large— hands, arms, chest, thighs. also, i feel like he likes that he has to help u when u take control because ur smaller or weaker than him. like, when he has to subtly help u pin his wrists by moving them in the direction u want lol

THIGH RIDING

this also plays into the size difference thing. like his thigh is just so big/muscular, and he loves watching u grind on it (or he can bounce his knee to help u get off too). the type to grab u by ur hips and assist u when ur rhythm starts to stutter. he also loves the wet spot that forms in ur underwear if u keep them on 💗

DEEP THROATING/FACESITTING

OK HE LOVES BOTH like i said everything about him is large (😈) so he loves to see u try to swallow him whole. the way u gag and struggle to take him in is soooo hot to him. also all the drool that spills out of ur mouth 🤤🤤 as for facesitting u better sit ur ass tf DOWN !! HE CAN TAKE IT !! lovessss when u grind on his face/mouth, also loves to squeeze ur ass during it

THREESOME

THIS MAN IS GENEROUS !!! LOVES to share !! always wanting to invite people to have sex with y'all. he feels like it's so much more fun and also loves to watch u get fucked/have u watch him get fucked. will want to do spit roasting too.

SWINGING

sooo into exchanging partners with other couples. or just fucking other people in general. of course he won't do this if u don't want to though. but he gets really excited if u do 😹😹 probably gets off while sharing ur experiences with each other

MINTHARA

KNIFE PLAY

likes the way u shake and whimper as she brings her knife close to ur skin. will leave small cuts and want to carve her initials into ur skin. also slightly into bloodplay too ?? i feel like she'd be into smearing ur blood on her hands and making u clean them off with ur tongue OOF

BONDAGE

she would absolutely cast web and use it as bondage restraints LMAO. will have u in some crazyyy positions too. kind of in a shibari way but with webs. the webs are actually pretty gentle though and have some give so she's not like, totally sadistic with it 😌💗

DACRYPHILIA

SHE DOES LIKE TO SEE U CRY THOUGH LMAO like something about how weak/pathetic u look turns her on so bad— as long as SHE'S the one that made u cry. if it's because of somebody or something else it's lowkey a boner killer for her 😹😹😹 will say really horrible, mean things to try to bring u to tears and then get wet af. will not comfort u after either

GAGGING

likes to use a ball gag but will honestly use whatever she has at the moment. a rag or her fingers even. she likes that u can't speak and can only moan/whimper. also into the way u drool. will purposely ask u questions and then punish/degrade u for not being able to answer

BOOT WORSHIP

LOVESSS making u kiss her boots. will want to hold u down with her boot and make u praise her endlessly. or step on ur face. might even be into giving u a little kick in the diaphragm if u want 😹😹😹

JAHEIRA

MIRROR SEX

WILL WANT TO BE FUCKED IN FRONT OF A MIRROR!!!! with her face pressed against it while she's getting backshots or even with one propped up beside the bed so she can watch how good she looks while she rides u. lowkey will put on a show for herself and get off to it 😹😹

LINGERIE

loves lingerie of all kinds. the garter straps on her thighs are her favorite part tbh. probably prefers to wear black or red— like classically sexy colors. also probably likes it if u wear some too, and will want to keep it on for the full duration of the sex. LOVES lace

STRIPPING

^^ ALTHOUGH.... she also really likes to strip for u. like going nice and slow while u try to restrain urself lol. will probably give u a lap dance too and is pretty playful with it sometimes. particularly loves to see how u get progressively more horny the longer she takes, also into seeing u touch urself a little bit during it too

NIPPLE PLAY

sucking on/playing with her nipples is a MUST. HUGEEEE erogenous zone for her. can probably cum from nipple stimulation alone. likes when u make it hurt a little too, like pinching or twisting them

DEGRADATION

kind of into u calling her names.... like whore or slut. tell her she's a dirty whore while u pull her hair and fuck her from behind. will also talk down to u if ur not really doing the best job LMAO like u better fuck her right or ur gonna get it 😹😹 she'll straight up be like "is that the best u can do?" or "this is pathetic."

BONUS:

GORTASH

BREEDING

HE NEEDS HEIRRRSSSS !!! ALWAYS wants to cum inside. an actual babymaking MONSTER like he cums so much its crazy. loves to see u stuffed full of his cum, it really makes him feels accomplished after all of his hard work 💪🏻💯😹

DADDY DOM

he is so into being called daddy. depending on the context he’ll get rock hard but also likes if u call him that outside of sex too. u can basically get anything u want from him if u add a ‘please daddy’ at the end of it— like he just can’t bring himself to say no. he’ll do anything for u to keep calling him that lol

*** DUBCON ***

DEFINITELY into coercing u/figuring out ways to get what he wants. likes when u get overstimulated and start telling him it’s too much or trying to push him away (u do have a safeword). also the fact that he can overpower u if he wants gets him sooo hard

POWER PLAY

LOVESSS having u at his beck and call. the more pliant and submissive u are the better. won’t do this outside of the bedroom unless u want to or if u initiate it since he prefers the idea of only him being able to see u like that. he’s the only one you’ll roll over for, so to speak lol

COLLARING

makes a special collar for u with expensive imported materials and shit lmao. thinks u look absolutely gorgeous in it and will tell u that all the time. loves the way u gasp when he sharply tugs on its leash. will also tug on it while giving u backshots. likes how it chokes u a little bit too, and the bruises it leaves behind when he’s too rough with it

MALE BG3 COMPANIONS

FEMALE BG3 COMPANIONS

[samooooo1]

@samooooo1 Hello! When I saw your request box open I was so excited!! Especially for Elden Ring since I playing the DLC right now 🤭🤭. Are you down to make story of a one-shot of a Obsessive/Overprotective Male Crucible Knight (any of your choice) finding a lost girl (female Reader) who has amnesia and being curious of her, then wanting to protect her and serve her. The girl could be just an ordinary girl or ancient being that has lost all memory of who she was. She would be very timid and small thing, and Crucible Knight vows to protect her since he has no one to serve. But she is a bit anxious since he is intimidating, silent, and gigantic of course lmao.

(Images aren't mine)

I don't know, but I've always loved the trope with a big protective Knight and small damsel in distress being together ❤️  🥰. That's always held a soft spit in my heart fr ❤️

Thank you so much if you do take this request! If not, you have a wonderful day !! ❤️

Oh fair Lady...........

(OC Cruicible Knight x female reader)

(Its small, like very small)

"Oh fairest lady.. what has a lady of thy beauty lost in these wretched Lands?".. asked the knight to the hair coloured lady.. who was sitting on a tree with a small book of hers.. She couldnt remember what or who she was.. but she was sitting on the tree since the day she woke up.. she didnt know who she was... but she had only her book with her.

She was a beauty unlike any others in the eyes of the knight, so small.. fragile.. yet a beauty he couldnt help but fall inlove with.

"Would thou accept thee as thy knight?" He asked, it was weird for someone to ask that but you couldnt help but be smitten by the Crucible knight.. you placed your hand onto his reaching one... and said the words he wanted to hear. "Sure, why not?" .. you looked onto him as he took his helmet off.. as he kissed her hand.. "I hereby vow to protect my lady, til the day death parts me from her."... and with that.. you gained yourself a Knight.

Even tho you have no recollection of who you are, besides knowing you name. You took the knight with you.. you wanted to seek yourself.. find more about yourself and travel across these so called Lands.. with your new friend...

.....

Those were the once young thoughts of yours when you met him.... your silent but protective knight. You both been through much by now... you both went to many places together all the way from Limgrave up to Stormvail castel then to Leyndell.. the beautiful city and the massive Erdtree even.. always close by ones side.. sometimes when ya walk to a certain destination, he always has you by his right side where he carries his sword, so that when someone dares to attack you, he always has his shield to Cover you with or to make sure they regret ever even to look at you with bad intent. Spending time with him , thou you dont know who you once were.. you .. spending the days with him on adventure devloped a bond.. maybe love between the two of you as you both decide to still look and travel the Landsbetween.. hand in hand, as his lady and he as your most trusted companion.... your Knight in not Shining armous...

(Sorry that it is short, today is my birthday and honestly my brain is kinda mush thanks to Summerbreak, hope you still enjoyed the very small headcanon and dont be afraid to send me even more!)

(Plus I need to get back on how to write- so please forgive me if it aint that good)

GOD BLESS YA AND JESUS LOVES YAAA BYE BYEEE

[blues-sues]

@xhunterbeatsx

IM SORRY BUT. TUMBLR WOULDN'T LET ME EDIT MY POST SO I GOTTA DO IT THIS WAY

Anyway for Bambi, I decided to pair her with...

Farmer Newt! Who, for simplicity sake, we'll refer to as SB, short for Strawberry!

I really like Bagheera and Figaro, so I plan to keep them, but if hunter wants to keep Sabor and Dinah, they absolutely can!

Onto rambles;

Relationship between parents: I believe that honestly SB and Bambi would be ... An adorable pairing. Lots of playful compliments and I think they'd have very interesting conversations. SB would definitely welcome her with open arms if they ever met, and if any pranks were to be made, she'd find it delightful- so long as it didn't harm any of her crops or stress out her pokemon companions. I think she'd have a very strong affection towards Bambi and definitely asks her to help her with tasks around the farm... Disguising it as her needing assistance but reality is she wants her company.

Relationship with children:

SB; I feel like SB isn't quite sure how to feel about them at first. She probably didn't think it was possible at first, but now that she's seeing them- she absolutely gets emotional. I feel like she's a very gentle parent. Takes everything slowly, and definitely places talking the kids through things at the top of her priorities. She's only ever had a guardian figure via the lab, but she knows now how NOT to parent, because most of the workers sucked, so she vows not to be like them. I believe that Figaro and Dinah are definitely most clingy to both parents and they usually trail after her as she carries out tasks.

Bambi; oh Figaro LOVES her. He will be a nuisance anytime he can just to get her attention and they definitely set up pranks together. Sabor is a bit more hard to get close to, but I think he definitely finds his mom's mischievous attitude silly but tries to hide any giggles or laughs behind scoffs, making him look constantly annoyed. He's just not really sure how to express feelings and tries to be all tough but I'm sure Bambi can definitely see through that and knows when he finds what she's doing funny. Figaro and Sabor however are a chaotic duo, and bc they like Bambi a lot, they definitely are usually around eachother and Sabor is constantly being clung to by Figaro anytime he's around and just overall being harassed LMAO.

Bagheera is pretty neutral to both his parents. Doesn't have much a favorite. He's pretty quiet but you can see him trailing behind sometimes before he immediately hides... He's just a shy kiddo to literally everyone except maybe Dinah. I think they probably pick golden raspberries out in the fields together even when they're not supposed to be eating them.

Children Info:

Figaro, Male, he/him, jolly nature, somewhat of a clown.

Sabor, male, he/him, sassy nature, quick-tempered.

Bagheera, male, he/him, timid nature, quick to flee.

Dinah, female, she/her, naive nature, scatters things often.

Note: Hunter can make any changes with Dinah and Sabor if they choose to keep them! Also, fun fact; all are named after a fictional feline! Figaro is named after the cat from Pinocchio, Sabor is named after the leopard from Tarzan, Bagheera is named after the panther from The Jungle Book, and Dinah is named after the cat in Alice in Wonderland.

[vparka]

So, I started playing Hogwarts Legacy and him.

Him. Ominis Gaunt.

He stole my heart and now im hopelessly following him around when I see him around the castle to check on him and to hear his stupidly beautiful voice, and his dumb pretty boy accent --- I really like him, I might start writing Male Reader x Ominis here or in AO3 cause goddamit, i wanna spoil himn so muchj dfkjdkf just look at him, dear lord, i wanna mix him and bake him and make him a pretty cake and put him on display and protect him and dsfjkdsfj

So i did the most reasonable thing in the game. I downloaded some mods and now he's my companion, he's keeping me company while i take my long walks crucio-ing enemies around the map haha or taking him to the room of requirement so he can spend some time with the animals- I also like to think he and my character hug when they're standing so closely, i wanna show this boy with a lot of love ohmygod, here's a screenshot!

I think <male character> is the same height as him, but since I put my character [Lian it's his name, pic at the bottom] the quidditch uniform I wanna write something stupid and fluffly like taller quidditch BF takes Ominis on a date, reassures Ominis in everything [cause he does sound kinda hurt/worried in some of his lines, in a soft voice] and jsut tells him he's a sunshine and the everything and anything and places a soft kiss on Ominis' forehead while Reader just holds Ominis with great care and promises to dedicate the next quidditch matches to him and lets Ominis use his quidditch cape or something idk

idk, i just love Ominis and wanna write something heuehehuehehehe

also, here's a pic of Lian, ive been playing him as a morally-gray idiot [im a sucker for those characters], of course he's a slytherin and has pink hair and purple eyes with a badass scar and uses the relic Slytherin robe that does look pretty cool because i have main character syndrome when games let me customize my character LMAO i would let him become a dark wizard if the game let me tbh i'd redeem myself on the next playthrough as a hufflepuff/ravenclaw

... i might start writing something tomorrow.... of course, male reader with no specific appearance details heuheuehe

[midnightmagicks]

Thank you for the tag @avampyone !! <3

Tagging: Anyone who is interested! <3 If you see this, do it :point:

—𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒔

Name: E'mal Khama (Birth name: (that he doesn't know) Kari Brotiðgrein/Brotinngrein Nicknames: One(1) single nickname that only @shadesofblades Baatu is allowed to call him: Mally/Molly Age: 55-60 (Give or take. Being adopted at a young age makes this Difficult) Nameday: 25th Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon (Starlight baby <3) Race: Rava Viera Gender: Trans male Orientation: Gay gay homosexual gay Profession: Travelling entertainer, dancer, and duelist

—𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒂𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒔

Hair: Black. Very shiny and well taken care of. Eyes: Violet colored right eye and a blinded left eye. Skin: A warm tan-ish tone. Tattoos/scars: A tattoo on his forehead that often hides behind his hair. Two scars on either side of his chest (fantasy top surgery babey)

—𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚

Parents: E'dona Khama: Adoptive Mother (Alive) E'wyn Khama: Adoptive Father (Alive) Siege Einar/Vísyr Djt-Rok: Biological Father (Alive! E'mal has no idea though) Sunna Brotiðgrein/Brotinngrein: Biological Mother (Deceased) Siblings: Several. All assumed deceased. Grandparents: Unknown biologically and adoptive. In-laws and Other: Unknown Pets: Wisteria, his darling chocobo and Eclair, his white whittret.

—𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒔

Abilities: Always one to give his all to a performance, E'mal has mastered the arts of Dancer and Red Mage in combo. He has learned to weave the magicks together to make shows surely able to capture the attention of passing crowds. But more than just street dancing, he is a capable fighter should he need to protect himself. Just....a little more flamboyantly than most. Hobbies: E'mal enjoys baking! He loves making sweets for his friends. He also enjoys fishing though he would NEVER admit that out loud. Another thing he enjoys is singing. That surprisingly doesn't come up as often as one would think in his performances as those are usually focused on the dancing and magic aspects.

—𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔

Most Positive Trait(s): Adventurous and Social Most Negative Trait(s): Self-neglectful and Emotionally Suppressed

—𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒔

Colors: Red, purple, gold, green Smells: Lavender, sugary-sweet scents, spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, etc etc), leather

Textures: Velvet, Silk, Jewels. Rose Petals, Tree Bark, Fur Drinks: Spiced Teas, Fruity Alcohols, Hot Cocoa

—𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔

Smokes: No. Drinks: Occasionally. Socially. Drugs: No. Mount Issuance: His loyal and excitable adventuring companion, Wisteria. The light purple chocobo with an equally dramatic personality to E'mal. Been Arrested: No, but he almost was his first time in Ishgard lmao. Thanks Ezie for preventing that one.

[dedarachnid]

Yep, back again

Guess the new status quo will be 1 post per month now lol

So I came back with designs for two of my other JJK OCs: Hanako, and her big brother Makoto

So funny thing, when I designed Hanako, I dress her up in your regular kimono

But when I searched up kimonos around Heian period ( cuz I wanna be a bit more accurate to the time Sukuna lived in ), I realize that obviously, kimonos back then were WAY different compare to what they are now

Buuut considering how goddamn lazy I am ( as you can tell with the clump of " fist " on Makoto lol ), I just decided to dress her up in the simplest fabrics of clothes, which are also considered " underwear " around that time lol

But also, for Makoto, I decided to throw the whole " historical accuracy " out of the window cuz I searched for male outfits around Heian period, saw that none of them would fit Makoto as a samurai, and decided to just let him stick with the Sengoku - Edo period of clothes cuz fuck it, it fits him more lmao

As for how Makoto lost his eye: Unlike Nakano, he didn't really " lose " it

If you read Nakano's bio, you would know that her shikigami, Yamashiki, was basically worshipped as a god within the Masachi clan back then

And as a ritual, whenever the " chosen child of Yamashiki " is born, they'd have a ritual where once the child is around 20 years old, they would have them give up their eyes to the curse spirit as part of a Binding Vow the clan made with it - one small sacrifice = another 90 years of servitude

But Makoto managed to not only be the very first person to only lose a single eye, he was also able to tame the shikigami

He ended up making a new Binding Vow with the snake spirit - for every " chosen child ", Yamashiki can only take one of their eyes and must become their companion

As for Nakano, since she despises her father, Gouketsu, and her clan for how they treated her and Ayato, she refused to give up her eye and summon Yamashiki as a form of rebellion towards them

Only for her to lose that eye when fighting against Fushiguro Toji

So yeh, new lore lol. Hope it's not too confusion and contrived

Next, I'll either draw some Nakano x Shoko, or make a design for Shirogami 😗

Also yes, anytime I do this, there will be commentary from characters and Sukuna being a simp for Hanako is essential lmao