#when i am down i just listen to him tell my tav how she has surpassed his expectations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pheonixgrave · 1 year

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Softer Now (18+)

Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that

Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II

“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.

“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.

“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”

“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.

The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”

“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”

“That doesn’t make you angry?”

“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”

“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair.

“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”

She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”

“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?

Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating.

“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken.

She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”

“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.”

“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.

Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”

Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”

He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”

Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”

Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”

The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”

“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.

“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”

A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”

Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”

“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”

Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it.

“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away.

She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”

Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”

Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?”

The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?”

She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form.

“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal.

She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”

Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”

He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”

“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again.

For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her.

She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.

For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy. She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.

He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”

She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.”

He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read.

As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck.

“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him.

He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”

“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense.

“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception.

She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him.

He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”

She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves.

Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her.

It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him.

“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit.

She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly.

Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.

Almost.

Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.

With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation.

“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.

“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap.

He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”

Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”

She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined.

“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”

She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”

He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips. She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”

Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.”

“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.

She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse.

“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought.

“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.

Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet.

She was his. And he was equally hers.

Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other.

“Did you see who was in the bushes?”

He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”

“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.

“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”

#astarion #astarion smut #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #fem!tav #cucking Gale #not my gif

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bloodiedrogue · 1 year

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I saw requests are kind of opened and I have to ask for something with Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep (quite a mouthful, ain't he?)

Like, perhaps Gale and Tav just cooking together and Tara being around and just... a sweet domestic moment?

MEASURE WITH YOUR HEART

SUMMARY: Gale is horrified when you try to improve upon his family's recipe.

PAIRING: Gale Dekarios & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 592

WARNINGS: None unless you count going against the recipe book as sacrilegious or something.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I read domestic Gale and blacked out for a second. (Also unedited because I am lazy!)

MASTERLIST

You see a stray finger dip into the pot in front of you. There and gone in an instant, it makes you sigh and close your eyes, taking a moment to listen to the rapid footsteps of a grown man racing across the floor, followed by the screech of a nearby chair.

“You know I’m fully capable of making dinner without a second opinion, right?”

Looking smugly towards the dinner table, you see Gale nonchalantly reading a book, his eyes flickering to meet your gaze as if he wasn’t just hovering at your side. “I never said that you couldn’t?” he says, pretending to be confused.

“You didn’t have to. I see that grubby little fingerprint of yours in my soup.”

While motioning towards your creation, Gale sighs and sets his book down, watching as you narrow your eyes, a soft pout pushing through your lips.

Immediately, it forces him to push out his chair and move towards your frame, slotting himself against your back with a soft grin that presses against your cheek. “You’re imagining things, dear. I was merely reading my book over there the whole time.”

You roll your eyes, feeling him grip your hips, pulling your attention away from the soup just long enough so that he can steal a kiss as well as dip his finger in all over again, causing you to scoff through a grin as he laughs.

“You wicked wizard. I should starve you.”

He licks the tip of his finger, narrowing his eyes as he smacks together his lips. “Hm, is that coriander?”

You open your mouth to respond but ultimately huff, shaking your head at your partner’s inability to relax in the kitchen.

“Wouldn’t think to put coriander in it but—“

“You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it.”

“But you don’t like it.”

Picking up your wooden spoon, you begin to stir your less-than-perfect soup to distract yourself; rolling your eyes as Gale begins to go on some long-winded discussion about the recipe you’re currently making. Telling you how, traditionally, it’s made with equal parts cumin and oregano and not bloody coriander because the combination of the two aforementioned spices is the reason the soup is so good in the first place.

It makes you groan in response, prompting a chuckle to escape Tara as she rubs her fur against your leg.

“Ignore Mr. Dekarios,” she coos, pressing her head against your bare ankle. “He’s just not used to people fiddling with his mother’s recipes.”

You bite back a smirk and look towards him, watching his brows push together in annoyance as he gently kicks Tara away, earning himself a loud hiss.

“You’re well aware that this recipe has been in the Dekarios family for generations, right?” he says, jostling you about as he dodges one of Tara’s swipes. “It isn’t just my mother’s recipe. It is a tried and true tested piece of knowledge that has served only the best amongst my clan.”

You can’t help but let out a dry laugh, craning your head back to rest against his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around you. “That doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.”

Pinching your sides, he gives you a stern look. “But it does mean such a feat can be difficult.”

“I’m sure it’s not that hard,” you argue then, planting a soft kiss to his neck before leaning forward again to reach for the spice rack, measuring out a few unlisted items with your heart as Gale watches in horror, trying his best to let you have this moment.

#measure with your heart #gale dekarios x gender neutral reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #summer writes

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brabblesblog · 9 months

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Ch 12: If ye find my beloved, that ye tell him, that I am sick of love.

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

Astarion and Ban's happiness isn't as long lived as they had hoped.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

BONUS: I've been listening to this song for this fic. Enjoy!

Astarion awakened at dawn’s first light, and first expected his hand to fall upon thin air. Instead he grasped Ban’s side and she shifted, unwillingly stirring at his touch.

“It’s too early,” she grumbled, trying to swat his hand off. Instead he pulled her tight against him, and for a few minutes they struggled with each other playfully, ending with the Ascendant pinned beneath his beloved.

“What was the point of all these powers,” he lamented, “If you can just hold me down like this?”

“Let’s see,” she mused, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from his temple to his jaw. “Walking in the sun, turning into a bat, or mist… summoning ghoulish minions… what’s not to like?”

“Touché.” He took a moment to try to flip her; she merely raised an eyebrow and tightened her hips around his midsection, holding him down more securely.

He growled, without heat, and gave up. Laughing at his predicament, Ban pinned him down a little longer to pepper more kisses along his throat, and then climbed off.

“I need to go to the Elfsong to get my things,” she said, rising from the bed and tugging a pair of trousers on.

Astarion watched from the bed, utterly unperturbed. “Of course, love. Shall I meet you for lunch somewhere?”

He’d been dining with her of late to allow her to enjoy the taste of human food.

“Sure.” She pulled her shirt over her head. “Blushing Mermaid?”

He snorted derisively at her choice of location, but nodded. “I’ll see you there.”

He watched as she left on foot; she hadn’t been taking the carriage recently. He’d wondered about it, had considered asking her why, but even he could feel that there was still much left unsaid when it came to Ban - and with how tentative their relationship felt, he didn't dare push.

Astarion tilted his cup, sipping his morning tea on the balcony as Ban’s figure receded in the distance. There was still a slight worry whenever she left, a niggling feeling he resented himself for harboring. As she disappeared from sight he turned to head inside, ready for today’s tasks.

Ban entered her room in the Elfsong, stopping dead in her tracks the moment she got a look inside. There was something… off about the way everything looked. She looked down at the book she was reading. It was sitting just where she’d left it, but upon closer inspection she noticed that it was opened to the wrong page.

The wind could have blown it to another page, she rationalized to herself, but when she looked up to check, the windows were closed. They had been ever since she’d started renting this room. She frowned, then took another cursory glance.

I didn’t leave my pack open, did I? She approached and opened it, then turned it over, spilling its contents out onto the bed. Ban took inventory; there was a dawning sense of unease as she concluded that seemingly nothing had been taken.

Someone had been in her room, had rummaged through her things, but had taken nothing. She immediately looked for her greatsword, and to her relief it was right where she’d left it, leaning against the wall.

A sigh of relief escaped her. A precious relic in and of itself, she valued that sword all the more for the memories it had borne witness to, for all the times it had saved their lives. Odd, that it hadn’t been taken.

She crossed the room in two strides and picked up the heavy blade. It seemed fine; she checked the grip and crossguard for any untoward substances that could indicate sabotage or poison. Nothing, yet again.

Curious.

There were always threats, of course. Being the hero of Baldur’s Gate brought accolades and honors, but it also ensured that everyone knew who you were, or at least had a passing idea of your deeds. Few however know her face, or that she was now undead, or that she had been living in the Elfsong for some time.

Few, but not none. She felt all the more glad she was leaving.

Ban gathered her possessions, trying to get everything to fit into her pack. It was a struggle, with all the clothes and random trinkets she had been bringing back from her visits to the palace requiring more space than she had been expecting.

“Fucking hells,” she groaned to herself, slinging the bulging pack over one shoulder and her sheathed greatsword over the other. She regretted not asking for the carriage, but there was no point thinking about that now.

Not taking the carriage had been a deliberate choice. She had felt rather trapped by it, by the idea of one of Astarion’s servants sitting there, waiting for her to run whatever errands she had that day. It made her feel like he was still keeping her on a leash - a leash with more slack, granted, but a leash nevertheless.

Still, Ban found herself grateful for the fact that he never argued against it. He had even stopped offering the carriage’s services, and although she could see the burning question in his eyes, Astarion had so far kept his mouth shut.

She knew his eyes always followed her as she walked out of the palace each day, that he stood at the balcony with his cup of tea, watching her as she departed. It gratified her, knowing just how much she occupied his thoughts, but there was also a sense of foreboding, the knowledge of just how easily such affection from the Ascendant could morph into possessiveness.

Ban slowly made her way out of the room after one final visual sweep, taking the stairs down and dreading the trudge to the Blushing Mermaid.

Ban loved him; she knew that without a doubt. She’d been smitten the moment she’d laid eyes on him, and loved him the moment he’d asked her to join him in the clearing. The moment he’d walked out from behind the tree and she had backed him against it, his body an easy, comfortable weight in her arms, she had been his - to manipulate, to seduce. To come to love, eventually.

With loving Astarion came understanding and forgiveness for everything he had inflicted on her. However, even she couldn’t deny the wounds would take time to heal - and that doing so would require her to actually communicate with the Ascendant about her feelings. A daunting prospect, but something she knew had to be done if they were to last.

Ban was distracted on her path by a beggar reaching into her pack and nicking the first thing his hands could reach, a pouch of coin. She turned and tried to give chase, swift despite the overfilled pack and greatsword on her back. The man turned a corner and she followed, intending to grab his wrist and demand her coin back. A silly thing to be doing, considering the wealth Astarion and she now enjoyed, but in the moment indignation won out.

She rounded the corner into a dim, covered alley, belatedly realizing she and the thief weren’t alone.

Immediately she tried to reach for her blade. She was, however, out of practice, and her reflexes had become far too slow.

Hands grabbed her - cold, strong fingers digging into her arms and shoulders. She tried to shove them off, but with a dawning sense of horror she realized that the hands holding her were just as cold as she. Vampires, she thought, but the knowledge wasn't much help at all. Not when there were six of them here, in a dark alley that only led to darker alleys. The only escape would be to try to fight them off and run to the sunlight, but the fact that they were all clothed in heavy, hooded cloaks made it unlikely to be successful.

She had been a little wary of Vel Stedez and his coven, and thus had kept her guard up at nights, staying mostly within the areas near the Elfsong. But the daytime attack took her completely by surprise.

They had obviously been to her room, or had at least hired someone to snoop for them. They had probably been watching her for days. Somewhere in the back of Ban’s agitated mind, she wondered why they’d taken her today, but then it occurred to her - they had seen her come out with her bags. They couldn’t reach her if she moved back into the palace. Realizing that their window of opportunity was closing, they had struck.

She froze as she felt something pressed against her chest, between her breasts. She looked down and saw the beggar aiming a stake at her heart.

“If you don’t want to have an unpleasant time, bride,” one of the vampires muttered, “Come quietly.”

Ban struggled. The stake pressed harder, drawing a tiny bit of blood. Growling, she dug her heels in, preparing for a fight-

She heard one of her captors utter an incantation and the others’ grips on her tightened. Belatedly, she realized which spell was being cast. Eyebite. Shit. The effect was instantaneous - she gasped, thrashing in her captors’ grasp, terror flooding her system.

In her blind panic, she failed to reach out to Astarion’s mind. Her mind focused entirely on her surroundings and the vampires holding her in place and the stake burning into her flesh, mere inches away from ending her. The panic was all-consuming, unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

There had been little cause to consider that she might ever be in any real danger, especially these past few weeks, with her and Astarion reveling in each other’s company and their renewed affection for one another. They had been too swept up in their relationship and hadn’t really considered taking the time to maintain their defensive skills. They had forever, after all.

This, Ban realized, may cost her her unlife.

Do I try to fight them off? Or do I let them take me?

The fighter in her rejected the idea of surrendering, pushing her terror to the side in her fury. She growled and bared her fangs, tensing her whole body.

“He’s not coming for me, you know. We aren’t together anymore.”

Buy it. Please. Fucking buy it!

The same vampire, probably the leader of this little group, laughed.

“Sure, princess. Sure.”

The stake dug in harder, pressing deeper.

Ban’s panic rushed back to the forefront and she froze once more.

One of her captors grabbed her pack and the sword from her back, handing them to one of the other vampires with a smirk.

“You won’t need that where we’re going,” he sneered.

They began marching her, the beggar still making sure the stake was never lifted from her chest.

They approached a carriage, black and otherwise unadorned. She braced herself, thinking this might be her final chance to break free, twisting against the grip they had on her. The panic had yet to subside, but she knew that it would be harder to escape once inside the carriage. She managed to shove off one of the two, but before she could do more, they hit her with the spell again. Sleep, this time.

Ban crumpled, and was unceremoniously shoved inside.

Astarion sat in the carriage as it made its way through the city, rearranging his waistcoat absently. Like Ban, he had been contemplating their relationship in light of last night’s events.

He had known she’d bought into his lies. She had been the easiest - tavern drunks aside - mark he’d ever had, melting into his hands like putty at the simplest of touches, at coquetry so obvious that any fool would have seen through it. She had even offered him her blood nightly, an act so hilariously saccharine and yet so idiotic that he had no words for it. In the mornings he’d replenished her with the amulet they’d found at the grove, all the while thinking just how well his plan had worked.

He had thought her simple. Just another person smitten with his beauty, enthralled by it. It had been nothing new. She was attractive enough, certainly, with the kind of figure he had not often seen or encountered in his long years of servitude. A boon, as it had made sleeping with her easier to tolerate - even slightly enjoy, if he had been, begrudgingly, honest with himself.

What he hadn’t expected was how she would ask him things. Admittedly they had been simple questions at first, due to his own reluctance to open up - how he was, or how his hunt had gone, or if his crossbows needed cleaning, because she was cleaning her own equipment. Really, just throw them in, she’d offer with a smile. But the asking meant seeing. And no one had seen him. Not for two centuries.

Then there was the way she’d acted during skirmishes.

Brave and unheeding of any danger to herself, charging into the fray, greatsword in hand. But it hadn’t been the courage itself that had so moved him; no. It was the way she would watch where he went, and make sure nothing so much as approached him. And when something inevitably had approached? She would stand back to back with him, his daggers and her sword flowing together in a furious dance, their bodies moving so synchronously that in those moments they’d seemed to be one.

She had made him feel safe. A ridiculous notion, he’d initially tried to tell himself. But that cynicism had rapidly dissolved in the face of her actions. She’d become the one he would run to at the first sign of danger. Hers was the approval he’d slowly begun to seek. Slowly, irrevocably, his heart had been bequeathed to her without his knowledge. At least, not until it had been far too late.

She’d never pushed, willing to take what little scraps of affection he’d been willing to dole out. She had told him that she loved him for him, whatever that meant, and he’d been more than happy to just continue being him, not wanting to look into exactly what she saw. Because he’d thought himself weak. Pathetic. A mere monster with nothing to offer but burdens, who had somehow enraptured someone so deliciously naive it had almost been unfair.

He’d always felt like he’d been taking advantage of her, and that the day she figured that out, she would leave. He’d longed to be better for her, to measure up to whatever vision of him she had. To be worthy of her.

When the rite had fallen into his lap, then, that fact - that need - had galvanized him, spurring his decision to ascend. How could he have refused something that not only would ensure his freedom and spite his former master, but also allow him to give her everything she deserved? A lover of equal power and prowess, one who could stand in the sun with her, who could give her life eternal?

Who would refuse that?

Only she could have talked him down. And she had voiced no real dissent.

And so his love had changed to that hideous, misshapen thing - a shadow of its former self, twisted beyond recognition. It had become obsession, a need to own and to possess. To keep her in a gilded cage, safe and treasured, but also isolated and alone.

The more he’d taken, the more she had distanced herself. And then obsession had become resentment, and their love had died.

But now the embers had caught aflame once more, and here was his chance at redemption.

Would that the gods be so kind that he could finally pull it off.

Astarion cut a path through the sweaty, drunken crowd as he made his way inside the Blushing Mermaid. His well-dressed, rather imposing bearing caused people to instinctively move out of the way, and he quickly found a relatively clean table and pulled out a chair, sitting down.

He didn’t even know why Ban liked this place. He placed both hands on his chin, sighed, and waited.

The seconds turned into minutes, the minutes to an hour. He shifted now and then, watching the doors, his patience slowly giving way to the worry bubbling up in his gut. She didn’t arrive.

Astarion closed his eyes, searching for her mind, then paused. She might find it intrusive, however well-intentioned it would be. Trust her, he reminded himself.

He forced himself to take several deep, calming breaths, fingers steepled together. It didn’t quite work.

He watched in silence as the daylight shifted with the slow waning of the sun.

Three hours. Astarion had been frozen, still as a statue for the past hour, motionless save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He finally broke, his worry erupting into a crescendo of fear.

He reached for her mind in desperation, and was met with an awful, devastating wall of silence.

His first and only thought was that she’d closed her mind off to him. Abandoned him again.

His hands, clasped together, dig into each other, the nails drawing blood.

No. It can’t be. She agreed to move back!

He stood abruptly, heading for the exit. He’d get in his carriage and then - then what?

Part of him, the Ascendant, wanted to hunt her down; to tear the city apart brick by godsdamned brick until she had nowhere to hide. The much larger and more powerful part of him, however, just wanted to go home. That part knew she wouldn’t leave like that - and if she had, if this was for her happiness - he wouldn’t interfere. He’d let his own heart break for her sake.

Calming himself, Astarion finally entered his carriage. He stared blankly at the seat opposite him - her seat - and silently began to weep.

Ban awoke, feeling foggy and disoriented. She looked around, trying to get her bearings. They’d apparently made their way through the city; it must have been hours, going by the angle of the sunlight outside the carriage. With every jostle and shudder of the carriage Ban fought to shake off the grogginess, using each disturbance to get a better grip on her body and mind.

They eventually arrived at an abandoned warehouse, where rough hands grabbed her again, dragging her out. She tried to pull, but felt the stake aimed at her chest once more. She realized she was being brought to another carriage, this one far larger, more lavish, an obscenely bright purple with silver filigree. Fear filled her at the realization that this abduction had been well planned. She was unceremoniously shoved inside the garish carriage.

As the carriage began to move, Ban assessed her situation. The effects of the spell were slowly wearing off. She was aware enough to realize they were likely to be leaving the city, judging from the change in carriages. She could make a run for it, jump out, and hopefully get away. She was hoping the sun would slow them down some, even with their cloaks.

She waited until the vampires seemed distracted, eyes moving away from her, obviously believing she was too groggy to make a break for it. Unfortunately, the mortal sitting beside her still had the stake aimed at her chest.

There was nothing for it. She couldn’t let them take her out of the city. Ban shifted her focus, hoping to at least shove one vampire off, creating an opening to dive out of the vehicle.

She looked each of them over, selecting the one she thought would be the weakest - a male drow, the one who took her things. Who knows? I might even be able to grab my sword.

She braced herself.

Please, let it work. Please let me go home.

Please let me see him again.

She shoved against the mortal with all her strength, hoping she would be quick enough.

But the vampires were prepared, they’d known the hero of Baldur’s Gate wouldn’t go quietly, and they moved as one, holding her down.

The stake slid home.

Astarion gasped. The dull, all-too-familiar pain of heartache suddenly transformed into an agonizingly sharp, shooting pain through his heart. He placed a hand against his chest, his eyes widening in realization. Ban.

If a vampire’s spouse was in enough pain, the other would feel it as their own.

She was hurt. Badly. Badly enough for her creator to feel it.

There was a wild, wretched joy that hit him first - she hadn’t left him. But a split second later, it was replaced by ice-cold fear.

What had happened to her?

When the carriage came to a stop, Astarion alighted and ran out with inhuman speed. He didn’t know why he felt the urge to search every room of the palace - she most certainly wasn’t there - but he pushed the urge aside. The palace would serve as a base of operations where he could think and plan.

He arrived at the doors, breathless, and a servant approached him.

“My lord, someone left this for you.”

The item on her upturned palm made his heart stop.

A ring. Three garnet stones, with pairs of seed pearls in between. Ban’s favorite ring. She hadn’t been wearing it yesterday when she came over.

So they had been to her room in the Elfsong. Had presumably taken her. The ring was a message.

He knew where to go.

Like a bat out of the hells, Astarion rushed inside the Crimson Palace, his mind whirring with a million ideas, his heart filled with longing, his body trembling in rage.

His soul numbed with fear.

He must save her.

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bakuliwrites · 1 year

Text

Video Game Fanfiction Table of Contents

Disclaimer: 18+, Minors DNI!!!!!!

Baldur's Gate 3

Just to Be Held (M): Astarion x Tav, His shoulders slump as he releases a heavy sigh. He’s been worn down by your patience, worn down by years of keeping everything to himself. Here you are, offering up companionship without any expectation. Here you are, sitting in front of him, telling him that you actually, for some gods’ forsaken reason, like spending time with him and you’re not expecting any sort of compensation from him. So why is he trying so desperately to push you away? Astarion and Tav share a quiet, peaceful moment together along their journey. Astarion learns that he is valued and loved. Tumblr, AO3

The Elder Scrolls

Devotion (18+): Cicero x Listener, He worships her, every piece of her. All of his Listener must be worshipped, as ordained. Cicero, sweet Cicero, eager to please. Eager to serve. His lips on hers, his hands roving, searching, exploring. Venerating. He dies inside her, and it is glorious. He would die a thousand times in her, as many times as she wanted. Immolating in her light over and over and over again. Cicero is unsure of this new Listener, but his feelings are muddled and confusing. What will happen when the Listener is forced to choose to take or spare his life? Tumblr, AO3.

Legend of Zelda

Ebb and Flow (18+): Prince Sidon x Reader, “I will not accept that all we’re meant to be are star-crossed lovers,” Sidon states passionately, his tone filled with a steady resolve, “I cannot accept it. Was it not here that I pledged myself to you? And you to me? Was it not here that we promised our hearts to one another? Aren’t we more than just crossing tides?” Sidon is given earth shattering news. His duty as a Zora Prince outweighs all else. But how can he accept that when his love for you is so deep? Tumblr, AO3.

Stardew Valley

Love Letters (18+): Elliott x Reader, My Muse! You inspire in me such vivid dreams that when I wake to find my bed empty, I despair! I ache for you, body and soul. How I long to return to you, scoop you up in my arms, and ravish you from evening until dawn (Beyond dawn! For dawn does not limit my undying love, my eternal passion for you). Though weary from this whirlwind tour, I am never too weary to show you the depths of my adoration for you. I will return to you early next week, and I am beside myself with excitement. Elliott returns home from his book tour and the Farmer has a sultry surprise for him. Tumblr, AO3.

Dark Souls

Lunar Halo (18+): Gwyndolin x OC, Gods do not require witnesses. So in the sanctity of the Holy Church of Anor Londo, Gwyndolin weds a mortal woman, a marriage that takes place with sightless statues and eyeless stained glass figures for guests. Veiled by cloth woven of moonlight, Gwyndolin guides his Beloved Star to the altar. Her robes are redolent of the night that enshrouds the earth, glimmering diamonds and sweeping swathes of indigo pooling around her feet as she glides up the aisle. Iridescent moonstone enamels her hand and with the promise of fealty, of love for eternity, the Dark Sun is wed. And a mortal has been anointed his wife. A tale of how the Dark Sun came to love a woman born of the Dark Soul. AO3

Fire Emblem

Restless (18+): Xander x F!Reader, As leader of the combined Hoshidan and Nohrian armies, you find yourself growing restless one night, plagued with troubling thoughts. You decide some fresh air and quiet reflection under the stars might do you some good; but, you run into Xander, also lost in thought, and decide to spend some time together. AO3

Slip Away (18+): Xander x Gender-Neutral Reader, Xander finds himself unable to unwind at his birthday party, until a certain someone whisks him away. Tumblr, AO3

To Walk a Path of Light (M): Jeritza von Hrym x GN!Byleth, Jeritza’s desire for Byleth was sparked long before the goddess had even conceived of either of their forms. Their fates have always been intertwined... Long after the war has ended, Jeritza seeks out a familiar face, while the Death Knight seeks a battle. Tumblr, AO3

Gentle (18+): Jeritza Von Hrym x OC, "She is soft. And in her softness, she dissolves whatever sharpness, whatever edge I have. In perfumed sheets and gilded sunlight, I am, for a moment, vulnerable. My gentility clambers out from where it's been buried deep for so many years. The Death Knight dies in her embrace, and from him blooms a new creature." Jeritza finds himself drawn to one of Garreg Mach's newest professors. Tumblr: Chapter 1, AO3

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beepersteeper · 4 months

Text

Plans

Tav takes it upon herself to take care of Cazador.

word count: 5k (I'm not sorry)

Tav and Astarion became romantically involved very quickly after the tiefling party. But they decided together to take a step back and get to know each other on more than a superficial level. She has listened to Astarion talk about his unlife with Cazador. A name that she was all too familiar with, it had been years since she had heard that name, she had hoped to forget it completely.

Their nights are spent talking about Astarion’s plan to replace his former master as the Vampire Ascendant. She hasn’t let on that she has a plan and personal reason to erase that evil man from the face of the earth. A plan that would take place within the hour. The rest of the party is prepping for a big fight, not fully aware of what is in store for them, but going off of the gruesome stories Astarion has shared no one is willing to take any chances or cut any corners. Tav strapped her armor to her body and ensured she had everything she needed for the night ahead, hoping her plan would go ahead without a hitch.

Tav walks up to the guard tower at the palace and is greeted… not just greeted but welcomed. A guard bows deeply at the waist to her and speaks quickly “Welcome home miss. The master will be most excited to see you! He has a planned special party, and I'm sure you will be a welcome surprise.” Another guard added, “We will tell your father of your arrival immediately.”

Tav holds up a commanding hand and speaks harshly “You will not. I will tell him at my leisure, am I clear?”

All the guards stand at attention, stone still in place and say in unison “Yes miss.”

Tav practically runs up the stairs and into the palace, kicking heavy doors open before her hand can touch them. Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach follow behind cautiously, observing how the leader of their rag-tag group so easily traverses the darkened halls. Tav bounds with heavy footsteps down the stairs and through a hidden door that is broken with ease.

“Godey, I know your sorry ass is in here. Show yourself.” she heaves musty air into her chest.

“Miss! You've returned! Have the hells finally frozen over? That was when you said you'd return was it not? Or did word of what your father is doing reach whatever hells pit you've carved out for yourself over these years?” an animated skeleton remarks, stepping from a darkened corner of the dank room as the other three rush into the room practically piling up on one another at their sudden stop behind Tav. his darkened eye sockets meet Astarion’s face as he continues to speak “And you've returned with his wayward spawn as an apology.”

“Fucking can it Godey.” she spits, pushing him back and forcing him to focus on her. “Tell me how to open that bloody door upstairs.”

“Certainly not,” he chuckles, leaning forward into the conversation to whisper. “I prefer being in the masters' good graces, unlike you and the company you keep.”

“Then I’ll look through your crumbled bones for a hint.” she shrugs, reaching back for her sword. “It makes no difference to me.”

“WAIT. Wait. Godey has the key. I’ll give it to you. Just let the master know I found Astarion. Trouble Godey no more.” he hands her a ring and waves her away “I see you've gotten much stronger, no doubt thanks to Godey’s teaching.”

“Go-dey.” she growls and draws his name out “I have the same damnable ring. If that's what I needed I wouldn't have even come to find you.” she throws the ring back at him, and it bounces off of his helmet and clatters across the floor. “What else do I need?

“Godey doesn’t know the words. The master used a language that Godey doesn't know.” he assures holding his hands up in innocence.

“If you have nothing helpful, then you are, once again, of no use to me.” She raises her weapon to strike.

“WAIT WAIT Wait!” he steps back “I’m telling the truth! The only thing I know is that the room down the hall has been completely off limits even to Godey. And it is vile, if I wanted to put the pieces together I would start there.”

“Quit playing with your food darling, he’s worthless.” Astarion sneers. “Can I just kill this bastard?”

“Sure Star.” Tav sheathes her sword and walks out of the room without looking back. She traverses the room after removing whatever curse has been put on the body on the floor. She rips drawers from their homes and pulls clothes from wardrobes and chests leaving the room in disarray. She finds a Kozakuran Dictionary with several words marked.

Without regard for her party members at that moment, she walks quickly upstairs taking several steps at once, and digs through her pack for her old signet ring. She hears footsteps following behind her, uninterested she shoves the ring in the slot and starts reading all of the underlined words. When the aura fades and the lock clicks open she puts her hand on the door to push it open, stopping when a pale hand pulls her away from the door with force.

“Do you care to explain what the hell all of this is about Tav?!” Astarion yells and turns to face him. “You know more about what's happening in this place than you've bothered to tell us. To tell me!”

“Not right now Star,” she grunts and tries to push her shoulder past him.

“You have got to give me something.” he pleads but his voice is a low growl “Because right now I’m not convinced I’m not walking into a fucking trap.” he pushes her back by the shoulders causing her to stumble.

Her vision tunnels and locks onto his face when she regains her balance. “If I wanted to set a trap for you would I have to find a god's damned dictionary to open the door to the bloody trap!?” she hisses through gritted teeth and throws the dictionary to the ground at his feet. She shoves him out of her way as she walks to the heavy door. “I’ll explain whatever you want later. But right now I need to take care of the motherfucker lurking in his crypt once and for all. Something I should have done centuries ago.”

“Just so I'm sure I understand, you’re expecting me to believe that you're just going to waltz up to him” he pulls her away from the door, once again putting himself between Tav and the door “Look him in his face” he shoves again keeping in step with her stumbling backward “and just kill him? Just like that?” he pushes again, harder “And what about what I want? You know better than anyone what this chance means to me.” his voice cracks as he gives another shove pushing her into a wall with a thud “You comforted me. Told me that I could decide what to do when we got here.'' He pulls a small dagger from seemingly nowhere pinning her between the wall and the blade “but you didn't mean that then, so how am I supposed to believe what you're saying now?”

“What?” she says, laughing like everything she just heard was a joke “You would have just trusted me if I told you I am Cazador’s daughter?” she pushes the dagger to the side with the back of her hand and steps away from him “Like you trust me right now?” she points at the knife. “Be for-fucking-real Astarion.”

He stands quietly, considering her question. “Well, you could have at least told me.” he urges.

“We both needed to get here. We both want him dead. I had hoped you'd see reason by the time we got here and drop the idea of your ascension because you realized it would ruin you- make you just like him.” She gestures to the crypt below "But if you want a fight right now I guess I can oblige.” she forces a laugh through her nose. “One way or the other I am going to go down there to deal with him.” she stands still crossing her arms across her chest.

“You’re making this decision for me Tav, I need to do this.” he slams his palm on his chest “You're about to curse me to the shadows for the rest of eternity.” He gestures widely before he steps closer to her, their faces close enough that they nearly touch. Both of their faces scrunched in disgust.

She scoffs and shakes her head before looking him in his eyes “I need to do this for me! If I had just done this all those years ago we wouldn't even be in this situation now!” She stomps hard “You would have never even been turned into a vampire!” her face burns red. “If you have ever trusted me, even a little bit, I need you to trust me for just a few more minutes.”

“What in the nine hells does that mean?!?” he screams and starts to lunge at Tav.

“I think you both need to take a breath.” Karlach yells over him and forces their bodies apart.

“No, let her answer me!” he spits and tries to push through the tiefling’s strong arm on him. “That's the least I fucking deserve since I’m not allowed to make my own bloody decisions. I at least deserve to hear WHY.”

Tav screams the loudest she has through the whole fight, also pushing against Karlachs arm. “Because I ran away!” she howls, spit flying from her mouth like a rabid animal “I left before you were turned! I wanted to kill him then but was too scared to do it! And if I wouldn’t have been such a fucking coward you would have never crossed his path and would have never lost the life you had!!” Karlach shoves Tav back when she feels Astarion stop straining. “So everything that has happened to you and your siblings over the last 200 years is on my shoulders, Astarion!” her hands shake, and she starts to pace like a caged beast along the wall her back is to. Karlach stays between them unsure of what is going to happen but feeling more in control from where she stood.

“What happened to me wasn't your fault!” he throws his hands into the air and then gestures a hand to her “You're not the one who tortured me.”

“You said it yourself, he took special pride in you and your following siblings and showed a modicum of kindness to the first one!” she hisses still seething “Don't you think that maybe, JUST maybe that because he was upset that his only blood daughter left never to be seen again?”

“She has a point.” Shadowheart shrugs.

“Shut it, cleric.” Astarion snipes “Or maybe he's just an evil bastard that plays favorites.” he stares holes into Tav from across the room.

“Unlikely!” Tav forces a laugh, trying to insult him. Trying to make him turn around and leave her to finish Cazador “When I left he was awful, downright despicable. But he wasn't capable of the atrocities he pulled on you. He got stronger when I left. So I am going to end this. If you need to hate someone right now, hate me and let me do this!” she howls and comes to such a quick stop that it startled Karlach who was keeping pace with her prowling.

“I’m not going to hate you!” he growls, “Even if you lied to me. We all have our secrets, but you have to see this from where I stand!”

“There will be time for that once we leave this palace and burn it to the ground.” she heaves calming air into her lungs “All of this screaming is getting us nowhere. He's no more dead than he was when we walked in here.” she grows quiet for a moment and starts again before anyone can speak “I am going in there. None of you have to come with me. But none of you can stop me either.” without another word she pushes the heavy door open. The would-be aggressors pay her no mind letting her pass without any trouble. The others follow behind her, the air heavy with uncertainty. She turns on her heels on top of the old lift to see her companions close behind.

“You're not going in there alone.” Astarion sneers. “I don't know where you and I are going to stand when we walk out of here, but I'm not about to let you walk into an unfair fight.”

Tav rolls her eyes and stomps on the down button on the lift. Astarion barely steps into the platform before it starts to move. Karlach and Shadowheart jump onto the platform as it descends.

Tav groans. Panning her eyes from Shadowheart to Karlach. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Soldier.” Karlach states, with no emotion in her words.

Tav grits her teeth, refusing to speak. They shouldn't be following her.

“I never knew any of this was here.” Astarion muses “This was always his private quarters.”

“Family quarters.” Tav corrects. “I’d bet there's a lot about this place he never let you see.”

The lift grinds to a halt and Tav walks quickly into the lowest part of the crypt after grabbing Vellioth’s skull and pocketing the scroll held in his mouth. Tav walks several steps in front of her uneasy crew. She shuts and locks the door behind herself before realizing that Astarion slipped in behind her. She whisper-yells at him through gritted teeth “You’re fucking impossible Astarion. Get out of here.”

“I told you you're not doing this alone. Let. the others. in.” he responds in kind, heat in his eyes.

“No.” she hisses “That kind of defeats the purpose of alone, doesn't it.”

“If you don't I will. It is just a locked door you act like I can't just turn a fucking lock.”

“Argh!" She growls and walks down the steps, leaving him to unlock the door, buying her a few precious moments with her target. She hurls the more-than-undead vampire’s skull at Cazador’s turned back with a thud followed by a hollow clatter as it bounced on the floor. “This ends today you son of a bitch.” she screams and marches straight up to him.

“Is this truly any way to greet your father after being absent for more than 200 years?” Cazador crows picking up the now cracked skull. “And you’ve hurt your Uncle Vellioth quite a bit with your little tantrum.”

“It's a better greeting than you deserve and you know that Cazador.” she says, taking the skull from his hand and smashing it on the floor between them.

“Have you been gone so long that you've forgotten your manners?” he says with a dark smugness painted on his face. “It's still father or sir to you. Master if you’d prefer more formality. You’ve forgotten all of your lessons on respect.”

“Trust and believe that I carry your lessons on my skin. But I'm not here to talk, Cazador. You have hurt too many people. Ruined so many lives. I'm here to do what I should have done centuries ago.” She pulls a silver dagger from her hip and pushes its tip against his throat causing his unbothered aura to tense from the smoldering skin below it.

“You know better than most that that won't kill me, what are you trying to prove?” his eyes cast behind her watching Astarion, Karlach, and Shadowheart coming down the steps in a hurry, weapons drawn. “Daughter, you've brought me a gift and an audience to watch my ascension.” he tuts holding all three in his red grasp. “You can't do anything to me, you insolent child.” he says, still smug with the blade piercing and burning his flesh.

“I know I can't do anything to you” she sighs quickly, turning the blade to her open palm and slicing her skin, blood dripping onto the floor below her. She hisses at the pain as she returns the blade to his neck before he can move pushing harder than before, keeping him still and in place. She reaches into her pocket and grasps a piece of paper in her bloody hand. “But lucky for me I don't plan to. I happen to know someone who owes me a favor.” she tosses the damp paper to the side looking him in his eyes as a fiery swirl appears behind Cazador.

“I certainly know someone who can.” Raphael whispers into the vampire's ear.

“You can't kill me, devil.” Cazador chokes a forced laugh.

“Can’t I?” Raphael touts “I just haven't had a reason to until very recently.” he moves to whisper in his other ear. “Your darling daughter has done several tasks for me and I find myself in her debt. And you understand as well as anybody that someone in my position wouldn't enjoy being indebted to others, especially a Szar.”

“You didn’t!” Astarion screams. “You sold your soul for this?”

“Astarion!” Shadowheart interjects “He owes her. Keep up or shut up.”

Rolling his eyes and ignoring Astarion’s outburst Raphael continues speaking at his normal volume as he walks around to look him in his face “Now, you're going to feel like you're dying, but you don't deserve to get off that easily. No… you will be staying with me, until the time she tells me to finally end your eternal suffering,” he laughs and speaks quickly “If I even decide to do that because from one evil bastard to another you managed to disgust me.”

“So you'll just keep me prisoner?” Cazador tries to laugh “Daughter, how is that different from what I’ve done?”

“You've hurt thousands of people and all of their families. You have wiped entire lineages from history. I’m doing Faerun a favor. My conscience is clear.” she says. “Besides, we haven't told you the best part of the contract.”

“I told you I don't like being indebted to people right?” Raphael sarcastically scrunches his face “She's smart as a whip. Got me to agree to break your will enough to the point where you let your spawn have your blood- make them all a true vampire.” he stands and talks with his hands theatrically “Now I know if I just killed you now they would each be true vampires, but where's the fun in that hmm? How many spawns have you sired? Seven thousand? I’ve got to keep you around long enough to make you willingly feed each of them and then let them all have their fill, which at that rate you and I will be together a very long time, lucky for you I have a lot of rats to keep you nice full for them.” he pats Cazadors stomach “So we should get going, we have some big plans to get to.” he plays with Cazador “I'm going to have such a good time breaking you. Tav do you need anything more? You know how to get a hold of me should you need to catch up about your daddy-dearest here.”

“We’ll talk more tomorrow, devil. I have some explaining to do tonight.” she nods up the stairs “Just don't try to do anything shady, I have YOU under contract after all.”

“Signed in my infernal blood, I know. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Ta-ta.” with a flourish Raphael and Cazador disappear to the hells. In that instant, the hold on her friends fades and they continue to run to her. Her blade falls to the ground while she kneels and her body slumps forward, with her forehead on the cold ground.

“How? WHY?” Astarion asks, kneeling at her side and rubbing circles on her back, realizing that she's crying.

“Can we do this later?” she responds, muffled from speaking into the floor. “I need to go talk to the other thousands of spawn, and figure out how to keep them sustained until they aren't feral anymore.”

“We” he urges “can figure out about the spawn.”

“Oh now we’re we again?” she lets out a weak laugh. “It wasn't 10 minutes ago you had your blade to my throat for the second time since we've met.”

“We’ve been we the whole time.” Karlach adds “Even when some of us wanted to kill the other.”

Before Tav could respond Astarion’s siblings gather around them, Petras speaking what the group is thinking “Is it over?”

“Yes and no.” Tav groans sitting upright on her knees. “He can't hurt or control you anymore, and you all will be true vampires in due time, so at least you will never be controlled again. But… you all will never be free of being a vampire.”

The siblings sigh and a hush fills the room. “How can we help?”

“Just like that?” Tav scrunches her face. “I told you you're not going to be truly free, like, and you want to help?”

“You and I know better than anyone that he’s a liar.” Petras looks down at Tav and helps her to her feet. “When you left I watched him turn from vile to worse. Sure I had hoped that he wasn't lying about this, but I kind of assumed the stick would come before the carrot as my brother so kindly pointed out.” he darts a glare at Astarion. “But my siblings and I know what those spawn in the prison need to get better. To get to a point we can let them out of the palace. Let us handle that. Besides, with him gone we can feed ourselves and become stronger to better help them and even help you in the fight to come.”

“Petras.” Astarion hisses “Don't start thinking now, you may hurt yourself. Those spawns need direction, and you all need to ease into feeding from thinking creatures. It's a lot… it's different than you think it will be. My advice is to go find someone who will let you feed from them then when you’re strong enough help those spawn do the same. Just don't kill yourselves, you have gotten through this, it would be a shame to die now. For now, we will find them livestock or something just to get them fed and stable.'' He sits disgusted at himself “We should go talk to them, and ask what they want. I know many of them wish only for a death that is well past due, and I think that might be the greatest kindness we can do for them.” he looks to Tav and his siblings “that will help us figure out what our next move is.” he stares into nothing “seven thousand hungry, pointed mouths to feed. They could decimate the Sword Coast.

“We won't let them.” his sister says.

He nods and pushes himself up off the floor using his knee as leverage. “You lot go start, I'll catch up. I need to talk to Tav for a moment.” He hands the silver blade to his sister who walks with Shadowheart to the prison

“We’re good Star.” she says, a lightness back on her tongue “Go with her. You’ve got the most even head out of the lot of you. We’ll catch up tonight.” she waves him away “We’ll go poke around and see what other mess he's made and make sure the palace is safe for all the spawn.”

“Just tell me that this is really over. That the end has started.” he says, grabbing her hand in his.

“It is.” she nods. He nods back and walks away from her without another word, running to catch up with his siblings.

“Why didn't you just tell him about the devil?” Karlach asks while the two women ascend through the palace. “It would have made this a lot easier. Kind of a jerk move letting him pick a fight with you when it was already taken care of.

“Part of the contract. Not another creature was allowed to know. I'm just lucky Raphael didn't decide to back out when you all came into the crypt like some gods damned heroes.” she half-heartedly laughs.

“Be honest Tav, would you have fought him if I didn't intervene?” Karlach adds

“If I had to. I wouldn't have killed him if that helps.”

“No, not really.” Karlach mutters as they clear the palace of all traps and enemies that they can find. After being confident with their sweep of the building they return to the cells to reconvene with the rest of the group. Shadowheart is tending to the wounded and Astarion’s siblings are consoling the other spawn, spending as much time as each needs- giving them their choices. Tav scans the rooms and isn't able to find Astarion. When she asks where he is no one can tell her where he is. She sighs before walking out of the cell room and starting her search for Astarion.

After searching room to room without finding him she climbs into the attic of the palace and stands still and closes her eyes. She tries to remember where she used to hide from Cazador as a child. Retracing steps from what felt like someone else's life she found herself winding her way to the furthest corner of the attic, behind a secret door. She lets her eyes adjust to the dark room that is only being lit by the full moon that is shining through a broken board in the wall. The light is obscured by a familiar silhouette.

“How’d you find me?” Astarion says barely above a whisper.

“He was never able to find this room.” she responds, staying where she was. “I just wanted to see that you were okay. If you want me to leave I will.” followed by an uncomfortable silence she takes that as her cue to leave. She turns slowly to walk out the door.

“Please don’t.” he sighs. “I don't know what to say but I don’t… I don't want to be alone anymore.”

Tav walks over to the broken board, knocking on the couple next to the broken one. Finding the one that she was looking for, she tugged on it and its neighbor opening a hole big enough to sit with her legs dangling outside of the wall. Sitting quietly, she looks over the city below her. She decided quickly that she would stay quiet for as long as he needed. There's nothing that she can say that will make him feel better, but she can feel the air getting lighter. The floorboards creak under Astarion’s boots as he kneels to sit next to her, his legs outside of the palace walls as well. As she looks through the makeshift window memories move from the recesses of her mind. The hours she spent looking over the city just like this were sometimes the only safety she felt growing up. She assumes he had a similar experience. Without noticing, tears threatened to escape her eyes.

His gaze turns to her and instinctively she turns away as the dam breaks, not wanting to burden him with her traumas when he is processing his own. With a cold touch he wipes her cheeks and whispers “Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

Tav sighs and shakes her head, propping herself back onto her hands “About who I am or what I was doing?” she asks, she said she would answer any questions he had.

“Either.” he let out a feeble laugh. “Both.”

“When we were asked to kill Yurgir, I cornered the devil and made him agree to help me. To help us. And the terms to not sign my soul to him, he wanted to be entertained by you finding out about my past. The possibility of destroying whatever our relationship is was somehow enough to make him agree to my terms.”

He thinks for an uncomfortable amount of time. “What is he going to do? How do you know he will keep his end of the bargain and Cazador won't be back up here tomorrow?”

“He and the Szar line have a long history with each other. Cazador went back on some long-standing deal held by the family by committing to the rite, but he had lost his soul long before Raphael could have cashed in on the offer. So it became incredibly convenient when someone with Cazador’s blood flowing through their veins could help him get the next best thing- his physical body. The devil is overjoyed that he has finally gotten his hands on Cazador, he isn't going to let the bastard out of his sight until he is well and truly broken. And at that point, he will feed you all. Luckily time passes differently in the House of Hope, he assumes that should be within the next two tenday.” she takes a shaky breath. “And as for why I didn't tell you about who I am, I didn't want anyone, I didn't want you to think I was in any way loyal to him. I’m his kin- his blood. I couldn’t blame you for thinking that, but I couldn't afford to lose any of your trust.”

“Doesn't that sound a little familiar?” a more genuine laugh slips out as he speaks. “But think about all the time we lost that we could have spent complaining about him!” He tries to make her laugh a little.

“Stop” she whines “I don't want to laugh right now.”

“oH! I'm sorry, I didn't realize I couldn't joke with the person who practically handed my life back to me on a gilded platter,” he says sarcastically.

Tav looks at him out the side of her eyes, trying to keep the smile from forming on her lips. “Exactly.” she tuts and pushes his shoulder lightly. They both sit in place, staring at the buzzing city below them for a long time before closing the hole in the wall and rejoining the party.

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3

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nerdalmighty · 4 months

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BG3 Tag Game!

I was tagged by @khywren!!! Thank you!!!!!!

I'm going to tag @vanilkaplays @okthisway @maladaptive-menace @riddlerosehearts @starkspi and anyone else who wants to play along!

Favorite romance: It will surprise no one to know that it's Astarion. I find his backstory so incredibly interesting and I love his dumbass personality. At the end of the day, he just wants to do whatever is the most hilarious and I adore that. I especially love how soft he gets when you get together in Act 2. I could go on and on but I'll never be able to fully articulate my love for him.

Favorite class to play: Bard! I love that they're really the jack of all trades and are pretty good at everything, including spells and sword fighting. Persuasion and deception are SO helpful in this game, plus playing music to distract crowds and cause shenanigans in Baldur's Gate is wonderful.

Favorite NPC: I think Raphael. While yeah he absolutely SUCKS, I'm obsessed with his obsession with his own voice. He's a thespian, he's a freak, he's an idiot. I love it. But yes, I did kill his ass.

Favorite song off the soundtrack: Probably the Harpy Song. I listen to it a lot in my spare time, especially when I'm working on a specific fic I'm attempting to write. I'm a big fan of haunting melodies and, unsurprisingly, the concept of hypnotizing music.

Tell us a little about your Tav: I wrote a pretty long post about her here, but my Tav is named Birdie and she's a bard who was born and raised at the Water Queen's House. Previous iterations of her had her as a siren (hence the deep love of the Harpy Song), but I'm still not 100% sure if this version of her is. Basically, she's a mermaid ass goof whose main gang of idiots include Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart. Chaos often ensues.

Something you wish was in the game: I know this game is huge. I know there's probably stuff people haven't even discovered yet. But god would I love some more camp animations. More interactions between the companions AT camp. Cut scenes where there should probably be cut scenes (The second time Astarion drinks your blood, Wyll celebrating the defeat of Ansur, etc). I really really love this game, but I'd love to hang out with my friends EVEN MORE.

Do you create fanworks? Share something with us: Oh boy I'm TRYING. I've never really written fanfiction before but the stupid vampire has inspired me to do so. I'm in the process of writing two different fics (one multi-chapter, one one-shot on the longer side) and am having a blast but I'm not sure if/when I'll post them. I've noticed my writing style is very similar to the way I write scripts, which is what I went to college for, so they're full of dialogue and quick, dumb banter. It might not be for everyone, but I'm having The Most Fun! Let me know if you'd maybe want to see more? Here's a silly excerpt from the one-shot (she may or may not get smutty later on 👀):

There was no sign of the vampire, save for an open hatch beneath the stone of the tower leading into what you presumed was a cellar of sorts. Off to the side was a discarded set of Thieves’ Tools. Yup, that’ll be him.

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you began to descend into the basement below.

Before you could even make it to the bottom, however, you heard Astarion’s voice tinged with annoyance. “Don’t bother, darling. I was just coming back up.”

You paused on the ladder and looked down at him. “That bad?”

“Eh, a few coins, some food. Nothing worth risking one’s life over. Foolish gnome.”

“Shame,” you pouted down at him, not an ounce of real sympathy behind the word.

He smirked as he met your eye. “Go,” he said, indicating you should climb back up the ladder. “There was a rather large amount of smoke powder though. That could be fun.”

When you emerged back into the early evening air, you turned to help Astarion out. “Maybe you can blow up a quaint little gnomish village.”

Astarion’s eyes glittered with delight. “Oh, do you think there’s one around here? That would be- Oh. You’re joking.”

You nodded.

“Gods, you’re no fun.” He sighed dramatically and then started back towards the Blighted Village proper.

You scoffed in mock offense. “I’m a lot of fun!”

Astarion tsked. “If you have to say you’re a lot of fun, odds are, you’re lying to yourself.” He shot a challenging half smile at you from over his shoulder.

“How dare you,” you laughed.

“Such a pity, too,” he went on. “Aren’t bards supposed to be entertaining?”

You made a sound of agony, which had Astarion fully turning back to look at you. You threw a hand to your heart and staggered towards him. “You wound me, Astarion. Look upon me with pity and remember me fondly!” You set an arm on his shoulder and let your body weight go, as if collapsing from a killing blow.

Astarion was quick to catch you under your arms. He made a show of groaning about how heavy you were now that your body had gone completely limp. After you’d hung loosely from his grip for a few seconds, he finally yielded. “Alright, enough.”

You resumed control of your body and stood up straight, a smug look on your face. “I’m fun.”

“Dramatic.”

“Theatrical.”

“Annoying.”

“Endearing.”

“Loud.”

“Enthusiastic-”

Just then, a loud howl came from a barn a little ways off.

You and Astarion eyed each other.

“Was that you?” Astarion asked.

“‘Was that me?!’ I’m not THAT loud.”

“Could have fooled me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Come on.” You started in a light jog towards the barn.

Astarion groaned. “You can’t be serious.” He caught up with you easily. “Haven’t we done enough heroing for today?”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “One more act of heroism probably won’t kill you.”

“It might!”

“Oh, now who’s being dramatic?” You came to a stop at the double doors.

“I-” Astarion floundered, then pursed his lips and crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought.”

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jynxeddraca · 1 year

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Hi yes, more Baldur's Gate brainrot. Sorry not sorry.

First of all look at my Tav:

She's adorable yes?

So fun fact I did not at all realize that 'Tav' is the default name given to all custom origin characters. I thought it was randomized and liked it so I kept it. So meet Tav Moonridge y'all!

Tav is a tiefling bard who grew up in the Outer City of Baldur's Gate, lives in the Lower City, basically raised her sister - Temerity Moonridge, and is currently 'on an adventure' that she really didn't want to be on and desperately wants to get back to her sister. I am also picturing her as like 5'2"/157 cm and often described as "willowy" or "reedy".

And now head canons of Tav interacting with the other characters. There are some spoiler-y things ahead.

No one has any idea how or why she ended up leading them, not even Tav. Tav is constantly baffled why anyone listens to her, but accepts it if it means she can talk everyone out of killing each other.

Tav broke Astarion's nose when they met via headbutting him in the face.

Karlach and Tav gossip in Infernal at camp. They never use anyone's names while doing so, but Astarion has a suspicion about which phrase might refer to him. Spoiler, it's Infernal for 'pretty boy' and it absolutely is referring to him.

Tav is a flirt when she's been drinking and kissed Shadowheart (during her first romance scene) and felt awful about it the next morning.

When they found the hat that is located near Alfira, Gale was able to tell it was enchanted but not really sure how. Tav laid claim on it and wears it at night to cover her eyes when she doesn't want Gale to bother her because he doesn't really get social cues and she doesn't want to hurt his feelings by just telling him to leave her alone for a bit. Gale thinks she's doing it because she had a headache or is about to go to bed.

Tav winds down in the evening by using her long tiefling talons nails to essentially fingering out tunes on her lute, without actually plucking the strings, and quietly humming along. She often does this leaning back against a stump or a rock with her eyes closed. She hasn't noticed that the camp tends to get quieter around this time because everyone likes to hear the humming - even if they refuse to admit it. She sometimes does this while wearing the hat.

When Astarion accidentally reveals he's a vampire and Tav ends up offering her neck to him - he ends up concluding that Tav has zero survival instincts. She also jabbed him in the armpit with her thumbnail to keep him from making her a corpse.

Tav fully is aware Astarion's flirting and seducing is him using her - but she thinks he's using sex as a way to secure blood from her willingly rather than his actual plan.

Lae'zel, after having to save Tav's ass one too many times, teaches Tav how to use a sword. Wyll helps out. Everyone learns that Tav is not good with blades and she is informed that she is to stick near Astarion and snipe using her crossbow.

Halsin can pick Tav up one handed and has done so to keep her from rushing into potential trouble without a plan. Tav deeply dislikes when he does this and Shadowheart has compared her acidic looks to him to a disgruntled cat. Karlach calls this 'air jail'.

Karlach will also put Tav in 'air jail' from time to time after her heart gets fixed. Astarion nearly doubled over laughing at Tav's betrayed expression when it first happened.

Astarion constantly thinks Tav has some ulterior motive for letting him drink her blood that she is really good at hiding. He eventually begrudgingly accepts that she doesn't.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #Yeah #brainrot #Astarion #Karlach #Lae'zel #Shadowheart #Halsin #Tav #tiefling Tav #bard #Still can't play #so my brain does the thing

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dabbles-in-drabbles · 5 months

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Forgiveness and Vengeance

Summary:

Andan knew her end would come, she had made peace with that. She knew exactly how she was going to die, and she knew it would not be at the hands of Mindflayers.

She was infected, survived the shipwreck, and defeated the goblins. All this with strangers watching her back, and a vampire watching her neck.

If she was to die, she knew she at least lived her life how she wanted to, even with all of the unexpected twists.

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Tav: Andan, Oath of Vengeance Paladin

CW: Talks of death near the end of the chapter

Chapter 7: Quiet

The first night out of the Underdark was hell. No one could sleep because of how skewed their sleep schedule was. They could only rely on their internal clock to be able to tell when to sleep, and even that was unreliable after the first few days. It got to the point where they would just rest whenever they were tired. But now, watching the sun set behind the mountains as they arrived at the mouth of the mountain pass, none were tired.

“As awake as we all feel… we should rest for the night.” Wyll was the first to speak, glancing between everyone.

Andan felt a sigh give way from her chest, “We should… who knows what can be waiting for us traveling at night.”

“Could be a hungry vampire looking for a bite, for all we know,” Shadowheart gave a small smirk, glancing over at Astarion. The look he gave her made the paladin snort. The mock offense, but the hint of a smirk.

“Oh, my dear cleric… if we were to come across such a beast I’m sure our dearest paladin could handle them quite well.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” her tone betrayed her. A hint of a smile on her lips as she placed her pack on the ground.

Shadowhart’s cackle resounded through the night, followed by Astarion’s soft chuckle. It was calm. There was no Lae’zel bickering with Shadowheart, nor the cleric purposely picking a fight with the Githyanki. It seems the fight they had just before they left the Underdark seemed to help them. Andan was glad, as entertaining as their arguments could get, they lost all humor the moment a blade was drawn. Unfortunately, that happened all too often before.

Thankfully no blades were drawn that night. Shadowheart silently helped Lae’zel set up her tent, and in turn, the Githyanki helped her. It was an odd sight to see, but a welcomed one.

Andan first helped Karlach set up her tent, the great Tiefling woman chatting her ears off about something she saw during their Underdark travels. Andan listened with a small smile, giving commentary here and then, but otherwise silent. After that was done, she went about helping Halsin and Gale with prepping supper. Thankfully, it was a quick ordeal with minimal talking and Gale kicking the half-elf and elf out of the cooking zone so that the wizard could watch over the pot.

Halsin let out a laugh at this, putting his hand on Andan’s shoulders as they walked off. He glanced down at the smaller woman, nodding his head off to the side, “Walk with me for a moment, friend?”

She gave him a small smile, “Of course… but I assume this won’t be a silent walk?”

He merely raised a brow at her, “What makes you think that, Andan?”

She thought for a moment, listening to the bustle of camp grow quieter as they began to walk further off into nature. There hasn’t been a single moment alone she’s had with any of their companions where it’s just been silent. They all wanted something from her, whether to complain or ask for favors. All except for Astarion and Halsin. There have been mornings that Andan has joined Halsin in his meditations and quiet company, but Astarion. With Astarion there were moments of comfort, warm mornings, and silent conversations. He did not ask of anything that Andan had not already offered.

It took a moment more before she finally spoke her thoughts, “Many of the moments alone I’ve had with the others have been filled with favors or talking. I do not mind it, but… I am a quiet person unless words are needed. I believe only you and Astarion have been the only people so far whose company where there has been no talking.”

“I understand where you are coming from, my friend. After days of speaking and listening, silence is often preferred.” Halsin paused for a moment before continuing, “Though I will say- I am surprised with what you say of Astarion. He seems like… quite the talkative person.”

She shakes her head, a smile beginning to form, “I’ve noticed that he talks a lot when he’s nervous or scared… but when it’s us two, all of that suave bravado vanishes. We talk, but there are no words. We’ve sat in silence for hours, and could have had an entire conversation.” Andan stops, glancing up at the Archdruid. There was a bit of a smirk to his lips, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes- this was the second time she had seen this look. The first time was nearly two weeks ago at the Tiefling party. She furrowed her brows at him, “You have a look on your face… what do you find so amusing?”

“Are you aware that there is currently a bet going around the camp on if you and Astarion are sleeping together?”

She came to an abrupt stop, letting Halsin walk a few feet ahead before he turned towards her, “I beg your pardon?”

“There’s a bet going on if you and Astarion are sleeping together. Gale and Wyll have been betting against it, while the rest of us have been… more optimistic about it.”

“I- what?”

“You both have been spending nights together in your tent, he may be rather light-footed and I may be old, but my eyes and ears are still keen. You also spoke of him rather fondly- dare I say, you both must be more than simple companions at this point.”

Andan scoffed, throwing her hands into the air, “Unbelievable- you asked me for a walk to get information!”

“You started the conversation first!” he was laughing, most likely loud enough to be heard from camp. Fucking druid.

“You- argh! For your information, druid, we have not been sleeping together. We slept together once weeks ago at the Tiefling party, but nothing after that! So you better owe whatever gold you all bet to Gale and Wyll, because there has been no continuous sleeping together.”

The Archdruid was hunched over, putting his full weight on his knees as he continued to howl with laughter. It infuriated her.

“I take back any good things I have ever said about you. Your food is terrible, I abhor your morning meditations, and you are a terrible person.”

This only seemed to make him laugh harder. It took a few minutes before he calmed down, wiping at his eyes before at last bearing witness to the paladin’s flushed embarrassment, “You deny that, yet you do not deny that you both are closer?”

She glanced away, “We started a courtship while we were still in the Underdark. So we have been more than ‘companions’ for a bit, now.”

“Ah, I see.” Halsin paused, growing serious, “Does… something about this bother you, Andan?”

She took a sharp intake of cool air, pursing her lips. She glanced up towards the stars, ruminating over her thoughts before answering, “You understand the natural cycle of death, yes?”

She could see him nod out of the corner of her eye, “Of course… things must die for life to flourish.”

Andan let a bittersweet smile cross her lips, turning her head towards the Archdruid once more.

He looked at her with furrowed brows and pursed lips, confused. A moment later the realization dawned on him.

“Your death- it’s coming isn’t it.”

She crossed her arms, setting her gaze back on the stars above, “The signs have been there for a bit now. It’s been hard to ignore it.”

“I assume you’re not going to tell me exactly what it is, are you, my friend?”

Andan let a laugh wretch it's way out, “At least you can respect that boundary, unlike others.”

Halsin leaned up against a nearby tree, raising his brow as he waited for her to explain.

“Gale- he wanted to speak with me the other night, and I… may have snapped at him. He continued to push for the answer.”

“I see… he cares for you, but I believe he might lose your friendship if he continues.”

“I pray he does not. I may not see him the same way as he sees me, but he is a good friend. I would have to lose that.”

Halsin stood up straight, approaching her once more. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and gave a slight squeeze, “It will be alright… but let us pray death does not come to take you soon.”

A humorless laugh escaped the paladin, “Let us hope.”

It was a quiet walk back to camp. Neither of them spoke but merely stayed in companionable silence. Food was being passed around when they arrived, but one thing was off that Andan noticed. Her own tent was up, Astarion’s own set up right next to it. She burrowed her brows in confusion, she hadn’t touched her tent, yet.

“Ah! Welcome back you two!” Gale grinned at them, holding two bowls of beef and mushroom stew. He held them out as the two approached.

Andan accepted it with a small smile and a nod, walking over to where Astarion sat. He was sipping from his goblet, a familiar book in his lap. She furrowed her brows, sitting next to him as she glanced over at the pages.

‘... and Thorn raised her staff to the heavens, calling upon Silvanus to strike down those who have wronged her. The wolves that had been summoned snarled and gnashed, tearing the cultists to shreds. She did not stop them. Her soft rose skin awashed with their blood, and antlers gleaming with the dim firelight…’

Andan prevented a chuckle from escaping her. He was reading the novel she had found. She glanced up at him, finding that he was staring at her with a blank expression. A pale finger tapped a feather that was placed further into the book which Andan assumed was where she had left off. She gave him a sweet smile, turning to her stew and beginning to listen to the chatter around the fire.

What she tuned into about made her choke.

“Oh… Gale, Wyll. I have something rather important to inform you both about.”

Wyll glanced up, in the middle of polishing his horns, “And what is that, Master Halsin?”

“I believe there are… some select people here who owe you both a sum of gold,” The silence was loud before it finally sunk in.

“What?! Fuck no! Dammit!”

“Shit!”

“Where did you get this information, Druid? It must be false.”

Halsin was laughing as Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae’zel started to yell. Wyll began to laugh, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

“Pay up, you lot. I believe that was fifty gold each?”

“Wait, what? We were right?” Gale sputtered, eyes wide.

Shadowheart raised a brow at Gale as she began to get out her coin purse, “Doubted yourself, wizard?”

“No, well- yes. I started to. But! I will not be complaining about gaining money from this. I will still gladly take your coin.”

Astarion nudged Andan with his elbow, catching her eye. He raised a brow, tilting his head to the others.

“Do you have any idea what they’re on about, love?”

Andan rolled her eyes, “They had a bet on if we were sleeping together.”

He was silent for a moment, watching the others with silent eyes. What he said next, with his voice quiet and uncertain, made her heart clench.

“Is that something that you want?”

She looked at him with wide eyes, keeping her voice a soft whisper, “I can do without the sex, Astarion. It is not something that I need or must have.” she was quiet for a moment before continuing, “Is it something that you want, Astarion?”

He was quiet for a moment, glancing up to make sure the others were immersed in conversation still before continuing, “I… don’t know. Sex has always been a means to survive, it was something that I was forced to do. It didn’t matter if I wanted it or not.”

“You have that choice now, my love. You no longer have to do what… he wants you to do.”

Crimson met sky blue.

“I-… no. I don’t think I want sex. Not at the moment.”

She gave him a sweet smile, holding her free hand out to him. He set his bloodied goblet down, slowly taking her hand. His skin was soft against her own calloused skin. She gave him a small squeeze, a small smile on her lips and in her eyes.

Astarion matched her own expression. A barely there smile, but his eyes spoke thousands of words to her.

She prayed that she would never lose this.

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#BG3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #tav #andan #astarion x tav #astarion x andan #Vengeance and Forgiveness

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ellekhen · 26 days

Text

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 71 - Where the Heart Lies

Chapter Summary: A dream crumbles.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 364K+ words; Chapters 71/?? (Master Post)

Excerpt below:

Church sits upright with a hoarse shout, only to feel a cool hand rest upon his forehead.

“Ast—?” he begins, but the word is lost on his lips as he focuses instead upon his mother’s red eyes, studying him with concern from where she sits at his bedside.

“Shhh,” she soothes him, gently urging him to rest back against his pillows. “It’s just a bad dream, my love.”

“Mum…” Church utters, too relieved to resist despite the anxiety still clawing within his brain.

“You were making such a fuss,” Mother sighs, and as her hand encloses around Church’s he realizes that his hand is smaller — much smaller — than hers.

“Mum,” Church repeats. It occurs to him that his voice is much higher than before. “When…? How… old am I?”

Mother tilts her head with a fond smile. “You’re nine years old, sweet boy. Or nine years and one week, as you keep telling the neighbors,” she adds in amusement.

Church fights back a tempest that has no right to be inside a child’s brain. He tries to remember…

“I ran away from home,” he whispers.

“You did,” Mother nods heavily. “For nearly two days. Your father and I went mad with worry. We began to fear the worst.” She looks up at him, red eyes shining. “Thank the gods you came back home safe and sound. It sounded like you had quite the adventure.”

She hums sadly to herself. “You said you missed Tarrin’s Hearth. I can’t blame you — you had friends there, after all. So did we. But I promise you, love, we’ll see them again soon.”

Church’s head hurts as he tries to wring out anything he can remember…

“Tav never replied to my letters,” he recalls.

“It’s his father,” Mother scowls. “I’m sorry, love. He never liked us. But I know that Tavi still loves you. Your father and I were talking about how you could send your letters to Mairead, and she could give them to Tavi, that way…”

“That sounds good,” Church nods eagerly, wondering why his eyes are filling with tears. His throat aches with them. “That sounds great, mum.”

His mind… it’s barely coherent as he tries to pull information from its mess…

“Oh sweet boy,” Mother whispers, voice choked as well. “I know it’s been hard. It’s been so hard for you. I know you’ve felt lonely. I know you’ve felt lost. But don’t you see? You’re not alone. You never shall be alone so long as you keep your father and I in your hearts. Whether it’s Tarrin’s Hearth or Baldur’s Gate, our home is you, alright?”

She shifts onto the bed, scooping up her son into her arms. He curls up in her lap, listening to her heartbeat as he clings to her.

“I’ve wanted this… for so long,” Church tells her.

“You’ve always had this,” Mother coos down to him. “Stop fighting yourself. Let me help you. Let me love you the way you’ve always longed to be loved.”

“But it’s not real,” Church looks up at his mother, and her brow furrows in consternation.

A confusing, scribbled-out face of a tiefling woman, sketched frantically upon the page of a sketchbook…

Church tries to memorize every detail of his mind’s creation, wishing that she was ever real.

“You don’t have to wish anymore!” Mother squeezes him close, arms tightening so much that it’s hard to breathe. “This is real.”

The bedroom door opens and closes, and another presence sinks into the bed on Church’s other side.

“Look at us,” Father murmurs. “Isn’t this perfect? Aren’t we lucky?”

Church looks up into the bedroom’s standing mirror to see the three of them, curled up together upon what is allegedly his childhood bed in his childhood home.

The mirror frames a trio of beautiful, proud tieflings — two pairs of bright yellow eyes and one red; three heads of black hair; two matching pairs of short ebony horns and one more coiled. Three tails encircled around each other, holding each other close along with their hands.

The family Church has always wanted.

The family he never had; not even at birth.

It’s all a lie.

A sweet lie, but a lie nonetheless.

“If this were real, I’d walk mum to the market tomorrow morning,” Church whispers dazedly. “I’d wait until she was haggling for bread and then I’d slip away three stalls down. That’s where they sell flowers, and that’s where I’d buy her whatever I could get for five coppers…”

“Son…” Father tries to interrupt.

“…then I’d come back before she even realized I was gone, hiding the flowers in my pack,” Church rambles on. “Mum would be just about to pay when I’d ask her if we could get a big raisin pastry as well. She’d sigh knowingly, but she would ask for one. Then she’d give me the bag to hold as we made our way to the temple…”

Mother remains silent until Church hesitates.

“And then what?” she asks softly, and for a moment she sounds just like another scared, lonely child.

“…then we’d find dad there,” Church continues. “I’d give him the raisin pastry and he’d say…”

“…it’s my favorite,” Father whispers.

“…and he’d insist on splitting it between us three. Then, when mum is distracted, I’d take the flowers out and give them to dad. He’d be confused, but then he’d know…”

“I forgot our anniversary,” Father mumbles sheepishly. “I take the flowers…”

“…and when mum returns…”

“I’d give them to her.”

“…and she’d look at you and say…”

Mother chimes in with a rueful laugh. “What’s the occasion?”

She joins in as Church collapses into tearful giggles against his mother’s chest, feeling his father’s arms envelop them both. Two pairs of heartbeats thrum on either side of him, and he feels safe. He feels loved.

“I want you to feel this too,” Church tells the voice that has otherwise remained silent in his head. “You deserve to feel this too, you know?”

He reluctantly begins to pull away from his mother’s arms.

“You should let me go now,” he says gently.

NO.

His mother and father’s arms lock around him, wrestling him down between them until his world is once again swallowed up by darkness.

ENOUGH.

---------

Bonus Author's Note:

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homesweetgoodneighbor · 1 year

Note

I fell into the BG3 pit too. Holy crap, look at all these amazing characters with amazing backstories that I want to love all the trauma out of. I just finished the Pale Elf quest and had to take a few laps around my house for a bit because it hit me so hard. I loved the catharsis of having my Little Star (canNOT get over that being his nickname TOO SWEET HELP ME) finally facing Cazador the way he did and just...I honestly had to turn the game off after the boss fight and dealing with the spawn. It was so much. Every companion went through their own pain and I love them all for letting Tav into their hearts, but my vampire boy has a special place for being the first to let my girl in. ;-;

I know, right? They don't hit you in the feels so much as run you over like a locomotive. Karlach and Astarion's trauma resonate with my own in many ways. A couple times they triggered my PTSD and I had to take a break for a day. It helps their actors just fucking knocked it out of the park. When I went to House of Hope, Karlach started basically having a panic attack and fucking hell if I did not FEEL that shit. I live with that shit every day, and watching her fidget nervously and listening to the anxiety right down to the quickening of breath nearly undid me. I said, "oh no, baby, we aren't going to do that to you" and reloaded to a prev save and had her stay in camp. Hell, I didn't even like Astarion at first but he's the most charming little disaster that ever snarked his way from one crisis to the next, how could I not learn to love him? To tell the truth,the only one I am not particularly fond of is Shadowheart. She just rubs me the wrong way, even after finishing her story arc. While I feel terrible for her, I just do not connect with her. And, that's the beauty of this game. The writing is so good that even companions you don't much care for are still dynamic and complex. Such a good game.

...

Well, I am hating the gauntlet of shit I am running through to get to the actual final battle, but that's never a fun time in any game. I am going to get some sleep and puzzle it out tomorrow after I get my hair re-purple-fied. That always makes me feel like I can take on an epic boss battle.

#anonymous #ask #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

The Coffee Prince Pt. XIV

[T’Challa x Reader]

Word Count: 4.3K

*Part 1* *Part 2* *Part 3* *Part 4* *Part 5* *Part 6* *Part 7* *Part 8* *Part 9* *Part 10* *Part 11* *Part 12* *Part 13*

A/N: Long break, but it’s back! Hope those who read are still here to enjoy and new ones get with it too. SO much has happened for a recap but shit went down. and now we are here. Links to previous chapter above.

Tavia stands before you, looking healthy in plain clothes, less bewildered than your last meeting with her hair braided back like Cleo in Set It Off. Your mouth goes dry from anxiety as you grip your door, thoughts ping pong in your mind to let her in or slam it in her face. She has no right here. Why didn’t you throw her shit out anyway?

Shuri steps between you both, speaking softly. “This doesn’t have to happen if you don’t want it. She is only here because she has made strides in rehabilitation but you have the final say.”

You swallow the rock in your throat, feeling damned by this choice being up to you. But at least you could control this situation. “I don’t want this.”

Shuri nods, “Then we will leave.”

“But I need to. If it’s over with now, I can be done for good.” You step your feet heavily aside from the doorway to allow Tavia entrance. She hesitates, looking away but once Shuri gives her the go ahead, Tavia shuffles by to go straight to her room.

“Do you need me with you?” Shuri asks.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks.”

“Ok, I will be just around the corner, waiting.”

You thank Shuri, before shutting the door slowly. You instantly feel warm and stifled. Having this space alone has been Hell itself but having someone there you absolutely loathe was worse. You choose a spot on the couch, biting your fingernail anxiously. Each click of the nail to tooth comforted you during the ransacking Tavia was doing in her room.

Tavia steps out with a duffle bag over her shoulder and a rolling luggage bag by her side. She closes the door behind her, meandering to the middle of the living room and stops.

“(Y/N),” Tavia says calmly.

You lift your hand up between your face and her. “Don’t fucking say my name, just...”

“Ok.”

You both sit in a stalemate of silence, making you gradually angrier. The presence in your place felt stifling, felt evil. You can’t stand it. “Tavia, why aren’t you leaving?”

Tavia shrugs. “I want to talk to you.”

“Then talk!” you shout out.

“(Y/N), you told me not to.”

You stand up, clapping aggressively. “I said don’t say my name, Tavia! You don’t listen, damn!”

“I’m sorry!” Tavia screams out. Her hands fall to her sides in defeat. “I can’t make it better but I can’t stop being sorry!”

“And you can stay being sorry, but I will never give a fuck about the apologies!” Your voice shakes your core, making your head throb from the energy you’re exerting. The adrenaline you get from letting her know exactly how you feel is exhilarating and long overdue.

Tavia closes her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tavia has never been the bigger person in an argument. If the old Tavia caught this attitude, the whole apartment building would’ve had a show to watch. “I just hope when you see him again, you’re as tough on him as you are on me.”

You feel your feet moving before you can think, bounding towards her. Tavia retreats behind the kitchen bar. “Chill, chill!”

You glare at her from behind the counter. “Who are you threatening? After all this bullshit, you’re still fucking around and throwing Erik in my face like he’s your personal hitman now? Don’t think I won’t tell Shuri.”

Tavia scoffs. “Erik? Fuck him! I haven’t seen him since that day. I just know he ain’t dead, since Wakanda doesn’t fuck with that kind of thing.”

“What do you mean? If you don’t talk to him, how do you know he’s not dead? He almost killed T’Challa.”

“Because when I thought my head was on the chopping block, one of the red chicks said capital punishment isn’t practiced anymore. I was talking about T’Challa, actually.”

“Shut up.” You walk away, shutting her out as much as possible.

“I’m serious. You want to come at me for what I did, that’s fine but you got a lot to talk to him about and I just hope cuz he dickmatized you, that you don’t let him off easy.”

You fold your arms defiantly. “What do I have against him? He protected me from you all acting up on me.”

Tavia bucks her eyes at you wildly. “Do you really feel no anger towards him during all of this?”

“Of course I do! But this isn’t about him right now! Why are you deflecting so damn much? You should be telling me how you and Erik decided kidnapping me and taking over an African nation could possibly turn out for the best!”

“I wasn’t a part of that. I was-”

“But you were Tavia! YOU put that gun to me just like he did. I had no autonomy because you stole that by putting fear in me because I was so shook my best friend could flip on me like this. How am I supposed to take that Tavia? Should I just forgive you for being so close to ending my life? And ending my child’s!”

“I didn’t know you were pregnant! There’s no way I would’ve put you through that with that on information.”

“I didn’t know either, Tav. But it sure is great to know that is where your moral code sticks. ‘Let’s not wreck the fetus but send her through all the hell she can take.’ And you want to talk about T’Challa? T’Challa the bad guy?? I would’ve taken his lies way better if they didn’t have to come out because my life was in danger!”

Tavia shakes her head, picking up her bags to leave. “He is selfish. If you know him, he is barely any better than Erik. He just has a nicer way of talking. They all lie, they all kill, you just gotta pick a side.”

“So which are you, Tav? You still deciding?” you ask, plopping on your couch with exhaustion, unscrewing the cap of your room temperature wine to take a swig, your hands shaking.

Tavia points to her chest, “I’m for me. I suggest you do the same. Don’t let him lead your life anymore.”

“I haven’t seen him in months. Trust me, I’m over it.”

She walks over to the door, stopping to look back at you. “Stop thinking about him. Get rid of that damn stuffed panther plushie, and maybe move cuz I know you can’t afford this place alone but you need a new environment.”

“Step, Tavia.”

“I’m sorry girl.”

When she finally leaves, you glug the wine bottle a little more to drink down the pain, coughing it up when your throat closes too tight to swallow anymore. Wiping the drips of wine off your mouth, you cry out harder than you had since you came back home from Wakanda, feeling your loneliness hit you hard. There was no way to repair things with Tavia, no matter how badly you wanted it. And there was no way you would reach out to T’Challa for anything ever again, no matter how badly your heart ached for a glimpse of him. You hoped he would stay in Wakanda for good. If he could do anything for you now, that would be the best gift you could ask for.

The weather was getting cooler by the day as fall snapped the summer heat wave, you had more reason to stay in and unsocialize from the world around you. You stay up late watching a marathon Will & Grace, laughing at Jack using his teaching position in his acting studio as a means to pick up guys.

“That would not fly today,” you quip between laughs, hugging your panther plushie under your chin in the darkness of your bedroom. The world around you grows quiet as the days get shorter, giving you peace with a sprinkling of eerie sensations. You look at your bedroom door instinctively, feeling a shiver run down your spine ominously. You close your eyes and shake your head. Being alone and in the dark makes your imagination run in a dangerous direction.

“It’s nothing. There is nothing. It’s just you,” you repeat to yourself again and again, pulling your covers tighter. Your brain visualizes the worst at night. Prowlers, murderers, ghosts, and monsters plague your brain when night falls no matter what you have watched before bed. You say a prayer for protection to ease your worry, but something hovers above you, waiting for you to trip over your words.

The brightness of your TV creates a halo that makes your eyes tired, so you rest them while listening to your episode play out in the background.

*BANG*

The sound makes you hop up in your bed. Listening carefully, you try to orient yourself and find out where it came from. Your TV is off, leaving you completely wrapped in pitch darkness.

“Heyyy, princess.”

You gasp sharply, seeing for the first time a dark intimidating figure standing by the window,

His voice is calm but in a way that you know you fucked up. “You thought we were through? Nah, far from it.”

He lunges at you, ripping your blanket back and pulling you by your ankles off the bed. Yu land on the floor hard, feeling yourself land on a charger. Your body seizes up, voice completely stolen as he gets on his knees, pushing your shoulders back until he has a clear grip on your neck.

“Just cuz that bitch punked out on me, don’t mean it’s over. I’m taking you out regardless, and that fake ass T’Challa can come get you once your soul gone.”

His grip on your neck tightens harder and harder. You try to beat his hands off of you but it feels like you’re underwater as your arms move slow and heavily. You reach for his face to give him any reason to let off of your neck, but he won’t let loose his hold.

His snarl glows in the darkness as his hands compress your neck. “See how you like the afterlife without ancestors to take care of you, princess. He has no clue what it’s like to be us. Where is he now?”

You let in a deep breath suddenly, sitting up continuing to gasp for air. Your hand rests at the base of your throat, making you pull it away, quickly running to the lightswitch. Once your room is illuminated, you see your wrinkled up blankets, your plushie on the floor. The TV is still off but no one is waiting at your window.

Your heart is still pounding as you pick up your plushie and sit on the edge of the bed, taking time to evaluate what happened. The violence of your dreams were nothing new, keeping you from being able to rest most nights. Most of them are short, and jolt you awake so soon that you barely remember them but this one was vivid and completely etched in your brain. Erik waking you, dragging you, choking you. Your neck still feels sore like it happened but that must’ve been your own doing, there’s no other way.

You fall back on your pillow but your body was too energized by the fight to rest anymore. You watched the sun come up in its bright orange hue, lovely but nowhere near Wakanda’s views.

At work, you feel the lack of rest overcome you as you type away at your computer, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on the keyboard.

A coworker of yours tosses a scarf around their neck with a flourish. “Hey! I was going to make a coffee run, and you look like you could use some!” they say in a sing songy manner.

You look up at them before leaning back and rubbing your temples. “Ah, that’s fine. I’m disciplining myself to finish this report before I get any treats, and I am just about there. I’ll get some for lunch but thanks.”

“Suit yourself. I just need something warm. This building is terrible with heat in the winter time. Uh...is that a hickey??”

You pull up the collar of your shirt further, feeling hot from embarrassment. “No, uh, I got an allergic reaction.”

They squint their eyes. “Lemme see…”

You grab your phone, pretending to take a call and apologize. They shrug and mouth that they will talk to you later. No way in hell could you explain that you choked yourself last night, which sounds even more freaky than the hickey assumption.

Making their exit, you rest your head on your arms for just a couple minutes and it feels so good, you can’t stand to be at work anymore, wishing you could snap your fingers and be done with the day. Instead you shake yourself loose and type away, continuing your project until the very last minute before lunch.

You feel a small sense of accomplishment, having done something arbitrary in the grand scheme of things but to add some positivity to your life, you decided not to deny yourself your promised treat: a hot cup of a frilly coffee drink and maybe even a little cake pop or something. Treat yourself Tuesday is afoot!

As you bundled up for the weather, you took your time crossing the street to make your way to the coffee shop near your job, crunching the red and orange leaves habitually along the way. As you walk in, the smell of the roast livens you up on impact. You wait in line behind the others, looking over the menu for fall specialty drinks until it’s your turn and you order our usual macchiato along with a big chocolate chip muffin..

“Abby!”

“Tall vanilla latte, no foam!”

“Sausage egg sandwich for Steven!”

“Order for Thomas!”

You check your phone lazily scrolling through celebrity feeds until your order is ready.

“Oh shit, I forgot to ask for it to be warmed,” you say to yourself.

“Already done!” The peppy freckle faced barista says.

You hold your hand over your heart, touched. “Thank you so much!”

You put the warm pastry in your pocket and walk out taking a sip of your drink. As you round the building, a figure in the distance looks familiar. Long black coat, broad shoulders, a contemporary confident gait. Your stomach does a somersault, feeling dizzy and breathless all at once. You take your time watching him walk away, heading for the garage parking lot. There was no doubt in your spirit that that was who you thought it was. Your reaction told the truth that your eyes couldn’t confirm. Was he in the coffee shop while you were? Did he ignore you for his benefit? No, that wouldn’t matter because that’s what you wanted. But how could he not say anything?

After work one day you head over to the community center to visit with Shuri. It had been a while since Tavia came that you got to talk to Shuri. As you turned the corner the parking lot of the center looked pretty empty compared to what it used to look like during the school year.

Walking up to the building you look around and catch a glimpse of a balloon caught in a powerline. Across the street from the center is a park. That park was the area in which the community block party was held that T’Challa invited you to early on in your relationship. The bustling bodies congregated around food and music was so awesome, they really pulled something off great that day. When T’Challa carried your weak ankle self back to your place to help mend, he seemed like the most important thing to you on Earth. You never thought he would be the kind to lie and leave.

“HEY!”

The bang of the doors in front of you opening startles you. A body rushes towards you suddenly. You feel doom impending upon you as you raise your hands to stop the attack. This wasn’t going to happen again.

“Stop stop stop!” You yell out, stepping backwards your heel collapses over the edge of the sidewalk. The rough asphalt catches your hand behind you as you watch two youths run past you giggling, not even noticing you on the ground. Their laughter fades in the distance as they run across the street in the grass, slinging their backpacks at each other morning stars.

“Hey! Why are you on the ground?”

Shuri comes out of the doors, leading with a hand out to you. You instantly feel foolish having this stylish teenager helping you up as you sit amongst rocks and old gum.

“No reason. I wanted to come by but some kids-”

“Eh! It was Marcus and Angel, right? They play too rough, and I try to tell them but they have NO RESPECT!” She shouts at the top of her lungs to the unknowing kids. “Come in, I was just thinking about you.”

Walking inside, the warm colors greet your eyes, entertaining you with their aesthetic. Deep, cherry wood lines the hall with intricate carvings along the ceilings and baseboards. Touchscreens displaying activity schedules, meal menus, and student achievements are located at the end of each hall. You can just barely see the inside of the gym through the double doors to the left.

“I don’t think you have ever been in here before. Have you?” Shuri asks.

You shake your head. “I guess some things got in the way. It looks amazing in here.”

“Thank you. It took a lot of planning on my part. Jabari can be very stingy with help sometimes.”

“Who is Jabari?” you ask.

Shuri starts to speak but catches herself. “Come this way.”

Her square block heels clop down the hall as you follow behind. She takes you to a podium in front of a frosted window.

“This is something I especially like. New visitors to the center are shown this during the tour, usually toward the end. It gives a bit of some background on what brought us here and what our mission is.”

She pushes a black panther head embedded in the stand, which begins to stream a flood of light onto the frosted glass. A voiceover talks to you about the long reign of Kings and Queens that reside in the independent nation of Wakanda. Images of the sprawling landscape and the beautiful sunset lure you in. Images of King T’Chaka come in that show him making a boisterous speech that is translated by a narrator. Stating his desire to close the gap of education, generational wealth and health disparities between whites and minorities across the world. He says he wishes to make a better world for himself and his son. As he picks up a toddler, you see a young boy with multiple beaded necklaces around his neck, smiling and clapping as a crowd cheers.

“I wasn’t born yet, so don’t worry, it gets better,” Shuri whispers to you jokingly.

Your eyes begin to water and it catches Shuri’s eye. “Sorry. He just looks...like himself.”

You feel butterflies, holding your stomach as you reminisce on what was. The little boy in that film is T’Challa with his father. And he looks so much like Bean did in your dream, shockingly so.

The voice over goes on to showcase the outside of the community center during its construction. Some big burly man lug logs of wood, breaking them down to lumber.

“Those are Jabari,” Shuri says.

A shot of T’Challa looking over blueprints and directing construction workers fill your vision. You focus on him, looking at his hair coils, his black clothing with the pop of embroidery. The camera zooms in on his long finger pointing to the blueprints and fades back in to show the constructed center. As the film closes a final shot of T’Challa welcoming you and hoping you stay crumbles you. This was him before he ever knew you. He looked so happy and accomplished and looking forward to the future. Nothing like how you left him.

Shuri touches your arm. “Is everything alright?”

You shake your head. “Is there a bathroom close?”

“Two doors down.”

You jog down to find the unisex bathroom, pushing open the door heading straight for the sink. Your head is pounds as you gasp for breath through your tightening throat. Each inhale feels more painful than the last as you lean your back against a wall and tears roll down your cheeks. You heave a big breath and sob out loud, wringing your emotions out like a sponge. This amounted to too much today. Tavia’s words ring in your ear as you realize she’s right.

The door opens a crack as Shuri pokes in and sees you weeping. She doesn’[t say a word as she wraps her arms around you, taking on your pain with all her little frame can handle. You feel like you’ll never stop crying, especially with Shuri there to help you through it.

“Please...I can’t,” you squeak.

Shuri squeezes you tighter. “Yes you can. Just cry, it is fine.”

Shuri offers you some tissue to wipe your face and says, “He isn’t here, I’m sorry if you were looking for him.”

Wiping your eyes, you barely look at Shuri out of guilt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

“It’s ok. But he’s been spending more time in Wakanda now, so if he’s here it’s for official business.”

You purse your mouth before saying, “I swear I saw him this week. Leaving the coffee shop near my job. But it couldn’t be, I know he would’ve said something to me. Has he been in town at all?”

Shuri stands quietly, looking past you.

You look at her face suspiciously. “Has he mentioned me at all?”

Shuri’s shoulders fall as defeat washes over her face. “I don’t want to be the one to talk to you about him. He should be doing that.”

“I know! But...I can’t contact him except through you or by coming here. I shouldn’t have to hunt him down, why hasn’t he even checked on me?”

Shuri tightens her jaw, refusing to answer. You get up and walk past her to throw away your tissue.

“Ok. Well tell him he needs to take his bank info off of my rent.”

“He won’t do that.”

“So you have talked to him about that? He said something?”

“He won’t let you be without. Even if he isn’t talking to you currently. He may just think you need space but I haven’t got a single idea what is going on besides Wakanda.”

“It’s fine. I’ll move then. That will cancel it officially and he won’t have to extend his charity to me anymore.”

“What? Where are you moving?” Shuri asks.

“Shuri, you know I can’t tell you. But I have to leave that place. Probably this city. I hate my job and I haven’t been myself since Erik came and fucked things up. I’m done, there’s nothing for me here.”

Shuri takes our hands in hers, eyes heavy with sympathy. “I know he wouldn’t want that.”

You shrug. “I can’t care anymore. It’s holding me back. I want to leave all of what happened behind. But here while I’m here, I have had nothing but constant memories of it. And Shuri I love you, but your brother is job.”

Shuri nods. “With no benefits that I can see, if you ask me. I understand, you deserve more.”

At your office, you draft a resignation letter a couple times before the verbage hits just right for you to print and sign. Giving it an official trifold, you put it in your desk drawer and feel your excitement in your toes just thinking about a new chapter in your life that could lead to bigger and better things. Most of your work hours have been filled with researching homes and jobs in other counties or and some neighboring states.

“Hey hey! You look a little peppy! Have you had your coffee on time today?”

Your coworker invites you to join them on a field trip to the shop, talking your ear off about the office gossip, which reminds you not to tell them about you leaving until after you have given your letter to your manager. When you make your order, they treat you by paying for the two of you and you sit together waiting on your name to be called.

“One order for Kibble, one for Bits!”

“That’s us! I’ll get it, stay here.”

You look out the window watching the breeze whip the trees loose of their leaves until they come back, setting your drink in front of you.

“Here you go. My phone is buzzing the hell out my ass.” As they take their call, they get more irritated with each minute, rolling eyes and mouthing words they choose not to say.

“Sure thing, thanks Karen! Girl, I apparently have to help fix a fuck up that wasn’t mine AGAIN! Fuck this job!”

“Right? Well, hit me up another time. You still have to tell me about who ate Lawrence’s lunch when he went the fuck off.”

“You right. It was me, but there’s more to it. Catch you later!”

You smile after them, taking your cup in your hand to carefully remove the top to release some heat. Coffee jumps onto your hand, hot and messy. You shake off the excess liquid and subtly lick your finger, spinning outward to get up and get a napkin.

“Need this?”

You take it thankfully, looking up at your good samaritan and freezing in place. He takes a seat in front of you, using another napkin to wipe the table up.

“How are you, umhle?”

Your mind is empty. Your sight goes black. You can’t recall what happens, until you hear him holler as your drink is tossed down his lap.

Masterlist

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@sweetpeachjones@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade@universalbri@therevolution-willbelive@you-like-this-chain @sarcastic-sunshines@airis-paris14@afraiddreamingandloving@kreolemami@lalapalooza718@syreanne@thiccdaddy-mbaku@she-is-golden @wakanda-inspired@90sinspiredgirl@bidibidibombaclaat@sithlordslut@brujademente@chaneajoyyy@slimmiyagi @lewatigress @shesakillerkween @queentearra @fiercedeception@yaachtynoboat711 @yofavcocoa @katasstrophey @zxddy-panther@babygirlofwakanda@destinio1 @heyauntieeee @ambthegamer @savageiz@klaine15689 @nickidub718 @dramaqueenamby

#shakafic #t'challa x reader

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nadziejastar · 5 years

Text

Axel’s Moral Relativism

“No apology?” He with the red hair—Axel stood up, his mouth turned down at the corners, and looked down at Roxas who still sat in bed.

“I shouldn’t have to. The one showing up all of a sudden when others are waking up is in the wrong.”

“Is that how to treat a best friend on coming back from completing a long mission!”

“I don’t recall becoming your best friend.”

Roxas got off the bed, and, ignoring Axel, turned his back and put on a black coat.

This is a passage from the short story called “Roxas: Somewhere in Time”. It was included with KH2FM+ and details a little bit of how Roxas and Axel got along together in the organization. Xion wasn’t included for obvious reasons. I got the sense that Nomura took Roxas in a slightly different direction to make him more like Ventus in Days.

Roxas was a little more cynical and introspective in this short story compared to Days. But one thing remained the same. From the very beginning, Roxas was never meant to feel as strongly about being “best friends” as Axel did in KH2. He felt like Axel was being a bit pushy about that label and given their circumstances, I’d say he was completely justified in feeling that way.

Axel said ‘best friend’. But that’s only playing at being human; it’s a relationship that we, Nobodies without hearts, aren’t supposed to have. But, within the organization, I’ve become especially close to Axel—no, it’s a fact without mistake that we are closer than the other members, and I don’t really know how that relationship should be expressed.

And that was their relationship in a nutshell. They were especially close and had a very important relationship, but they still weren’t really best friends. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it ties into this subject. I’ve heard a lot of people say that they didn’t like 358/2 Days because of the constant “best friends” talk and because Axel seemed like a goody-two-shoes big brother, instead of the hardcore assassin he acted like in CoM. They couldn’t reconcile those two different portrayals.

Yes, “best friends” was mentioned over and over. Way more than with SRK or TAV. Compared to them, RAX didn’t even know each other for that long. It was supposed to feel forced. But, I don’t think that was a bad thing or that it lessened the importance of their bond. To the contrary, I actually thought their relationship was a lot MORE meaningful because they weren’t really Axel’s best friends. As an assassin, Axel had a very skewed sense of morality. And that’s what this post will be about.

“What are you trying to do? Are you thinking to use Naminé as a shield? That little girl doesn’t mean anything to me. I’ll just destroy her along with you. Get ready, Marluxia!” fired Axel, readying his chakrams.

Peculiar or not, she’s got nothing to do with me, or the Organization… I don’t think. It’s fine to destroy things that are in the way.

I definitely think Axel was always willing to do the dirty work for Saïx because he thought of Isa as his best friend. He never really cared about the morality of what he was doing. All that mattered was that he was doing it for the sake of his best friend.

Day 74: Xion's Face

Author: Axel

Honestly, I never got why Roxas was so crazy about Xion. I know they both joined up around the same time, and they're both rookies, but how do you get so close to somebody who hides their face all the time? Well, I saw it today. All of a sudden, No. XIV up and takes off...her hood. Xion is a girl, and she looks just like Naminé.

Roxas and Xion became his “best friends” because that changed when he met them. Especially after Castle Oblivion. Roxas was Sora’s Nobody and Xion looked just like Naminé. It made him question everything about the way he had been living.

“Your best friend?” Roxas shook his head furiously and grabbed Axel’s cloak. “Best friends are supposed to be honest with each other!”

He’s angry, Axel thought clearly. It really does make it seem like he has a heart. But if that’s all I can think of when he’s this upset, I really must not have one.

It’s important to emphasize that although Axel’s relationship with Roxas was pretty one-sided in KH2, it was kind of the opposite in Days. Roxas liked the idea of being best friends with him and Xion. Their relationship didn’t fall apart because Roxas was indifferent to their friendship. Axel did a lot of things to alienate Roxas after telling him they were best friends. Roxas felt betrayed. Axel did what he thought was the best thing for everyone’s sake. But Roxas was unable to understand that because Axel had a much less idealistic outlook on life than he did.

Still gripping Axel’s collar, Roxas shook his head with the emphatic refusal of a little kid. “No, you didn’t…” But he sounded uncertain as he said it, and his voice shrank even more. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”

Axel brushed Roxas’s hands from his collar. “This isn’t about friendship.”

Roxas raised his head. The glare in his blue eyes was sharp as a knife. Axel had never seen that from him before. His chest twinged, just a bit. He let out another sigh. “Listen, if that’s all, I gotta go.”

Roxas wilted again, and something in his expression weakened Axel’s resolve slightly.

I did it with the best of intentions, that’s all. For Roxas’ sake, for Xion’s sake, for the Organization’s sake---and for Isa’s sake. But more than anything, for my own sake.

He turned away from Roxas and made himself walk away.

Axel’s innocence had already been shattered a long time ago. He was used to dealing with the darker side of life. Due to his traumatic past, he had an amazing ability to emotionally detach himself from any given situation. It was a form of self-preservation.

After he left Roxas, Axel’s distracted wandering through the hallways came to a stop when he saw someone else.

He was probably waiting for me. Standing there against the wall with his arms folded was once my best friend—Saïx didn’t take his eyes off the ground to look at Axel.

“…You’re sure this is for the best?”

“Everything is back to normal. Of course this is for the best, isn’t it?”

The reason I’m unable to answer Saïx is probably because I depend on him, thought Axel.

“Xemnas has also been irritated at the recent changes in plan. Everything has to go back to normal, for the sake of our goal too… Lea.”

But from Roxas’s point of view, Axel seemed cold and heartless. He always said that Nobodies had no hearts and that they couldn’t feel things like fear or love. Naturally, Roxas thought he didn’t value their friendship as much as he did. And Axel did hide all of his true feelings, so I can’t blame Roxas for feeling that way.

But while Axel pushed Roxas further away, he really wanted to do what was best for him. He wanted to spare Roxas the pain that he went through. And at the same time, he was dealing with his inner conflict over his relationship with Saïx. He had a hard time coping with the huge rift between how he remembered their past compared to what he saw in the present. He had nobody to confide in about this.

“Come on, don’t look shocked,” Axel went on. “You already know you’re a replica. A puppet whose original purpose was to duplicate Roxas’s powers. If he’s getting weaker, and you’re getting stronger, maybe you’re taking a little more than you oughta be.”

He didn’t gloss over anything. Confronted with the plain truth, she looked away.

Right. I’m a puppet. Organization XIII built me. A doll to copy Roxas’s powers. But still…that’s not all I am. Axel doesn’t know the whole story. And maybe I don’t, either. What other secrets are hidden inside me?

“…What should I do, then?” she mumbled at the floor. She didn’t have the answer.

“I can’t make that decision. You’re no puppet in my book.” Axel took hold of her shoulders, and she turned up to him again. There was sincerity in his eyes and kindness. “You’re my best friend. Mine and Roxas’s. Got it memorized?”

Axel told Xion they were best friends, but at that point, he still thought it was better for her to not exist. He said they were best friends for her sake. And perhaps to assuage some of the guilt he felt over what he was planning to do, which she was oblivious to. Axel had no real advice for her. He didn’t expect her to exist for much longer and left it up to her to decide what to do. He felt bad about it, but he truly thought it was for the best that she disappear.

“Are you talking about destroying her?” Axel made no reply.

“Answer me!” he screamed, kicking the wall.

Axel still spoke quietly. “If somebody doesn’t, then you…won’t be you anymore.”

“I’ll always be me! Your best friend—just like Xion!”

But Axel shook his head. “Roxas—you’re missing the bigger picture.”

“Ugh, forget this.” Roxas kicked the wall again for good measure and started walking away. There was no point talking to Axel anymore. The Winner stick was still in his pocket. So much for giving it to Axel.

“Roxas!” He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to hear what anyone had to say anymore.

He kept all of this from Roxas. He knew he would never accept that his best friend needed to be destroyed for his own good. So he took the burden on himself to do it, knowingly destroying their friendship in the process.

Roxas no longer knew what to say to either of them. Why had Axel attacked Xion like that? He’d been for real. Serious enough that he almost seemed about to take her down for good. The thought made Roxas nervous. Axel wasn’t saying anything to him, either.

At first Axel took a rather pragmatic approach to the situation with Xion. He wasn’t happy about it and it wasn’t an easy decision or anything. But he did attack her and bring her back, with the intention of her being destroyed. Even when he fought her, he was ready to take her out permanently if it came to that. He didn’t like it, but he was able to set aside his feelings and do what he thought he had to do. He only changed his mind at the very end.

I don’t have a single friend in this place. All these people on my side—and his and the organization’s… But I don’t know if I can say that we’re really on the same side. I’m alone here.

Nostalgia… And memory. We are the ones who lost their hearts—the ones who are no one. Nobodies. Not light nor darkness—we live in the twilight.

Axel stopped outside the crystal ball room and took a deep breath.

Why are we here? What are we doing? No—why am I here?

Axel’s actions definitely demonstrated that he viewed Isa as his best friend above anyone else. He questioned why he was still in the organization after he killed Vexen.

It’s just like that back is rejecting me. And I’m realizing that my memories of the past are too different from the thoughts I’m having now.

Why the hell am I here? I don’t really know any more. What the hell do I want to do?

And he questioned it when Saïx said the organization didn’t need both Roxas and Xion. Saïx did not act like Axel’s friend, let alone his best friend. He was totally cold and often very cruel to to him. Axel felt rejected and alone when talking to Saïx. But he chose to stay in the organization. If he really wanted to, he could have left. But he never did.

“The time has come for us to move, it seems—”

Axel frowned at Xemnas’ words.

What if—I’d stopped Roxas properly, that time? If I’d told Roxas the entire secret, would it have turned out like this? But, I couldn’t betray the organization.

No—to be honest, I’ve already betrayed the organization. In that castle, I was the one who let Riku and Naminé meet, which made a big mess for the organization.

But, I didn’t complete the betrayal. I’m still uncertain. From the time I met my best friend Roxas, from the time spent in Castle Oblivion, I’ve continued to struggle with doubts.

Why am I here? What do I want? How can I become whole again?

Even now, he wasn’t sure.

After Xion disappeared, Roxas was the only one who helped Axel feel less lonely in the organization. But when Roxas left, he was still conflicted. It’s not that he was afraid to go against the organization. He just didn’t know what he truly wanted to do in order to be whole.

Today I have to destroy Roxas. I cannot betray the organization.

From the little shelf at his bedside, Axel took a white envelope, and looked at it vaguely for a while. Putting it in his pocket, Axel got up off the bed and left the room.

Maybe, this is the last time I’ll see Saïx, too. Thinking, Axel looked at the seated Saïx’s back.

“We’ve known each other for a pretty long time, haven’t we?” Ignoring Axel’s words, Saïx continued typing on the keyboard.

“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saïx finally looked up. “It’ll be all right. ‘Cause I’m tough.”

“Saying stupid things,” said Saïx, smiling for just a second at Axel, puffing out his chest.

In the end, he decided he had to destroy Roxas. He joked about destroying Roxas. That’s how desperately he wanted to emotionally connect with Saïx, like when they were kids. I definitely could never see him joking about destroying Saïx to Roxas.

“I’m goooing.” Waving to Saïx, Axel disappeared.

The instant he transferred over, he closed his eyes for a moment at the dazzling sunset streaming through. Then he turned around dramatically, and confirmed it was Roxas.

“Look at what it’s come to,” Axel said. “I’ve been given some pretty nasty orders…to destroy you if you refuse to come back with me.”

I don’t think Axel truly thought it was funny, but I do think that he has been through so much trauma that he felt emotionally disconnected from everything, and developed a dark sense of humor. Immediately after that exchange, he appeared in front of Roxas and told him he was given the icky orders to destroy him.

Can I destroy Roxas? Probably not. But I know what I can’t do. Xemnas and Saïx probably knew that as well. Maybe we can disappear together from here and go somewhere.

And Axel genuinely wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it or not. He didn’t want to do it, and ultimately wasn’t able to, but he still came pretty close. He only changed his mind at the last minute, like with Xion. He was playing around with the idea that they could disappear together, but he only brought it up jokingly. After that, he tried to go back to the organization.

“No one would miss me,” I retorted, and started to walk away.

“That’s not true…,” Axel mumbled. “I would.” At the time, I pretended not to hear him. We Nobodies have no hearts. How would we be able to “miss” someone? But now, I understand how he felt.

Roxas flung Axel back with the Keyblades so that he fell to his knees. Roxas couldn’t bring himself to deal the final blow.

“Axel…”

That’s right—we were the only pair of best friends in the organization.

I got the sense that Axel was so convinced he didn’t have a heart because of all the things he had done as a Nobody. He was truly disgusted with himself after fighting Roxas. He said that Roxas had a next life because he was a sweet, innocent kid. He looked surprised that Roxas responded seriously to his suggestion to meet again in the next life, especially after what he just did to him. Roxas still cared about him and had sympathy for him.

“Axel…” The hostility had vanished from Roxas’ eyes.

I can’t find the spirit to fight this Roxas anymore. Here–there’s nothing to do but to fade away.

“Let’s meet again in the next life.” At those words spoken with just a hint of a smile, Roxas nodded quietly.

“Yeah. I’ll be waiting.” There was something funny about Roxas’s serious answer, and Axel laughed.

“Silly… you’d have a next life, but…” Axel said to Roxas–and his figure disappeared in the darkness of a portal he’d opened behind him.

Axel was aware that he just tried to murder that pure-hearted kid who once called him his best friend. Of course Axel thought he had no heart or a next life. He didn’t stop fighting Roxas because they were best friends. He stopped because he realized that he wasn’t Lea anymore. He no longer recognized himself and he was deeply ashamed.

“What were you trying to do?” Sora asked. For a moment, Axel didn’t reply. He kept staring into space as he did.

“…I wanted to see Roxas. He…was the only one I liked. When I was with him…he made me feel…like I had a heart…” Axel closed his eyes.

Somehow, he had the feeling that Roxas was close. Terribly close. Right beside him.

“I feel it…with you, too…” Then Axel weakly shook his head and returned his attention to Sora. “Kairi’s in the castle dungeon. Now go.”

Roxas and Sora made Axel feel like he had a heart, not because they were his best friends, or because he was in love with them. It was because he tried to harm them and they still showed him forgiveness and compassion.

“We don’t disappear… We’re only reborn,” Naminé murmured, perhaps to herself.

“I’m not like you and Roxas,” Axel said flatly. His hand holding the ice pop stick paused in midair.

“But—but you…” She looked down, clenching her fists.

“It’s because I don’t have a heart,” Axel went on. “I don’t want to disappear, but I’m not upset or sad about it.”

I think that played a huge role in why Axel put Roxas on such a pedestal in KH2. Roxas was the epitome of humanity to him. He wasn’t used to being around people who showed him empathy and friendship. Roxas genuinely cared about him in 358/2 Days. He was devastated when he thought Axel was terminated and would never see him again. And Axel repaid that kindness by trying to destroy him. Roxas treated Axel like a human worthy of friendship. He made him feel human, even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“I think we all know, and you just don’t want to accept it,” Saïx remarked, his voice dripping with disdain.

“He might be forcing her…,” Roxas mumbled.

Saïx only snorted at him. “Hah! Your human-like way of thinking is so nauseating.”

But that was the only thing Roxas could think of. Xion wouldn’t betray the Organization…or her friends. Would she? He stared at the floor, his fists clenched at his sides. Were Nobodies and humans really all that different?

“You have to trust your partners,” said Roxas, flaring up. Then he raised his head to glare at Saïx. “Why is it such a crime to give each other the benefit of the doubt?!”

“Just stop, Roxas.” Axel restrained his arm. “Just, calm down a little.”

Unlike with Roxas and Xion, I don’t think Lea ever considered destroying Isa an option. If Isa ever had to be destroyed, Lea promised him that they’d go together. That’s how attached he was to Isa. They were best friends and inseparable. He put Isa ahead of everyone.

“Huh…you’ve got a point. So, okay, say you don’t need a heart for things to be important to you… Maybe the closest thing we Nobodies have is our pasts. It’s the memories that give things value.”

“Memories…,” Roxas mumbled at his lap. “Well, I don’t remember my past, so I guess that explains it.”

Axel pondered that for a few seconds before suggesting, “What about your present, though?” Roxas looked up. Somehow, he hadn’t expected to hear that from Axel.

“Wait, you’re right. I don’t want to forget about you or Xion.”

“See?” said Axel. “Everyone’s got things they wanna hang on to. Even us Nobodies.”

When asked what he couldn’t bear to lose, he didn’t say it was his friendship with Roxas or Xion. He knew Roxas valued the present more than anything, but Axel still would have chosen the past.

Axel didn’t waste a second grabbing his chakrams. But his body was reluctant somehow.

I don’t want to disappear… But still, it wouldn’t be so bad if I did. Not here.

Even when Saïx wanted him dead, Axel felt like he’d rather disappear than fight him. Saïx was stronger than him, and Axel never thought he could beat him. He was never going to destroy him or anything. But even fighting him in self-defense was enough to make Axel feel like disappearing—the one thing he dreaded more than anything.

This is a pretty overwhelming disadvantage, Axel thought. Well, I knew that before we started fighting. I can’t win against Saïx with my own strength.

Still, he refused to hesitate. He had to force this path open. He wanted…to find hope—the hope that Sora and Riku had.

Saïx gave him a cruel grin. “You will lose everything!” And then the Claymore pierced Axel’s chest.

I don’t want to disappear. I can’t disappear now. I shouldn’t have to disappear at all. Why am I doing all this? Who is it for? For Roxas… For Riku, for Naminé… And for myself. There are still things I should do. Things I have to do.

Axel was only willing to fight Saïx for Kairi’s sake. It wasn’t because they were best friends. He did it because it was the best thing for everyone. But he was envious of Riku and Sora because of the hope they had.

“Al said he wouldn’t rely on magic, right? I want to fix it for him, but you gotta respect your friend’s wishes.”

“Your friend’s… wishes…”

So, even if you mean for something to be for your friend’s sake, their wishes are still more important?

Lea and Isa promised to meet again in the next life. But even then, Lea changed his mind. Even if Isa disappearing was the best thing for everyone, and that was the decision he made himself, Lea didn’t care.

“That Genie person seemed very worried about that Al person. And then he said that you have to respect your friend’s wishes.” Xion bit her ice cream, swinging her feet.

Axel leaned his head to one side. “Your friend’s wishes, huh…”

It feels like I have heard that before, a long time ago, when I was human.

He was going to bring him back, whether he liked it or not---whether it was the right thing to do or not. He’d bring him back, even if he had to drag him. And I think that is how Lea developed such a skewed sense of morality, and why he was willing to do anything for Saïx, even the icky jobs. Lea refused to respect Isa’s wishes if it meant he had to sacrifice himself.

This is the way it has to go, Axel told himself, lying on his bed. This is the right course.

But he was swamped with misgivings, unable to accept his own decisions. How could he choose between Roxas and Xion? And yet, that was exactly what he’d been forced to do. Then Xion had walked away of her own accord.

Then again, this did little to alter the big picture. All it meant was that Xion would no longer be draining strength from Roxas. The plan would only suffer a slight delay in progress—nothing more. Although even that slight delay would let Roxas remain himself for a little longer.

Axel didn’t know what would happen. But he was glad, at least, for a little more time to think.

What will I have to do? What should I do?

His thoughts kept him awake for some time.

When Axel told Roxas that Xion needed to disappear for the greater good, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite. When Xion left on her own and Axel turned a blind eye, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite.

I promised Xion. I have to keep my word, don’t I? What Xion really wants—and what Roxas wants, too—is for the three of us to stay together. But there’s nothing I can do now to make that happen. So if I can at least keep my promise to her…that’s what I’ll do.

Axel didn’t let any of it show as he waited for Roxas to continue.

“You’re not really gonna do what Xemnas says…are you?” Roxas asked, still staring at the floor.

A tiny sigh escaped Axel. “I have to. Or else I won’t be safe, either.”

That was the harsh truth. And if he was gone, too, who would keep Roxas safe?

When Axel set out to destroy Xion after calling her his best friend, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite. When Axel thought he had to respect Xion’s wish to disappear, he must have felt like a huge hypocrite.

Kairi looked up at him then. “Aren’t you…a bad guy?”

“I’m not,” Axel replied, completely serious. “But not really a good guy, either.”

“This doggy likes you, though,” she pointed out.

Axel dropped his gaze, and indeed, Pluto was right there with his tail whipping back and forth.

“Just because dogs like someone doesn’t mean they’re a good person, y’know. Got it memorized?”

I got the sense that Lea was always willing to get his hands dirty for Isa’s sake, because he remembered him to be so selfless. I think Lea would have done anything for him. He would have eliminated anyone to save him. Roxas, Xion, Sora. Anyone.

Axel, what do you want to do?”

“Avoid being eliminated ideally.”

“So you’re offering me up to the organization?”

“…Well, you see any other options?” His expression was frozen in a forced smile.

He had no ideas. He didn’t know what to do. And he had no heart and thus no emotions to guide him, either.

I think Saïx was telling the truth when he said Axel changed. Their roles were reversed from the past. Axel was an assassin who was morally ambiguous. He said he didn’t believe anyone could say what was right or wrong, and he also didn’t consider himself a good person or a bad person.

“But this is for everyone’s sake.”

Everyone…? Who do you mean by everyone? Us? Or others?

“Don’t say selfish crap like that. Every last one of…”

“This is for the best,” Xion said.

I hate that sort of thing. There’s no such thing as ‘this is for the best’. There’s, I want to, and I don’t want to, that’s all. I learned that in my human time.

He was willing to do bad things to achieve his goals. He was desensitized to it. It’s what he had to do to survive in the organization. As long as he got what he wanted, nothing else mattered. But when he realized how much Isa had changed, Axel’s resolve to get his hands dirty wavered.

“The best thing…?” Naminé set her crayons down on the table, her gaze dropping as she thought for a moment, and then she smiled at him again.

“It’s the right thing.”

In response, Axel only leaned back and rocked in the chair again. She took up her crayons.

No one could know what was right or wrong.

Roxas and Kairi were what finally tipped him over the edge. He could no longer do what he knew was wrong. This is why I think Axel’s friendship with Roxas and Xion was so important to his development. It was so important exactly because they weren’t really his best friends. They offered something to Axel that he couldn’t have gotten from his real best friend.

“The dirty work doesn’t bother me,” Axel went on. “You just make for the top.”

There was nothing false in that, and he looked Saïx in the eye as he said it. Saïx stared hard back at him.

Right. We have our own agenda.

It’s interesting that Axel was so concerned with doing what was best for everyone in Days, considering he actually hated that type of thinking as a human. I got the sense that Isa acted as Lea’s moral compass during the experiments. There’s a reason Isa got possessed and Lea became an assassin, after all. And it wasn’t because Lea was a goody-two-shoes. He was a good person deep down. But he didn’t care what was best for everyone if it meant Isa had to die.

To suit the Organization, to suit Xion, to suit Roxas—to suit the world. I don’t give a crap about any of that any more. I use the Organization for myself. That hasn’t changed from the start. All that’s changed is for whose sake I do it for. Maybe he’d call it being a traitor. But, the world changes.

His best friend was more important to him than the world. But...Lea cared so much about him because he was the type of person who put others ahead of himself. It’s why Axel was willing to do all the dirty work for him.

Ansem quietly shook his head. “Naminé, Roxas, and Xemnas… The Nobodies of those with strong hearts are peculiar beings. My—that is, our theories proved fruitless. Coming into contact with a strong heart transforms a world. And not just worlds, but people themselves—and even Nobodies.”

Naminé, head lowered and hand extended with the ice cream for Riku, perked up upon hearing those words.

That’s it… Yes. The mystery of the heart. When we encounter someone special…the world changes. Our hearts change. Everything changes.

Axel needed to have Saïx act like a horrible person in order for him to rediscover his sense of morality. His loyalty to Saïx was holding him back. He grew tremendously as a character by refusing to do the wrong thing, even for his best friend. He stood on his own two feet, did the right thing, and earned his redemption. Ironically, his betrayal of Saïx was due to his loyalty to his memories of Isa. And betraying Saïx was the only way to eventually get Isa back.

#kh #kh meta #kh lea #kh isa #kh roxas #kh xion #isalea #akusai #kh axel #kh saix

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sarahjtrash · 8 years

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Not That Religious

After reading Wings and Embers, I’m pretty sure that most people want Cassian to pummel Tom-ass Mandray (myself included), but I thought it’d be a little fun to let Nesta deal with him. And it’s super random, but this is a Western!Au. Enjoy!

The stranger had hiked himself through the door like he owned the place, every day for the past two weeks. He strutted in at noon, tipped his hat at noon o’ one, and sat himself down at the bar in the back at noon o’ two. It took him a whole two minutes to walk across a room that was maybe twelve meters long. The arrogance. Nesta Archeron every day at noon, for the past week and six days, had found herself in the stockroom. By noon o’ three, she found herself leaving the kitchen from the door on the far end of the bar from the stranger. She twirled herself with her large tray, so the man only saw her back. He’d offered his name two weeks ago, but other than to watch out for it, Nesta willed her thoughts far away from it. From the spurs on his boots to the clean white hat on his head, the man screamed dangerous and clueless. Honestly, what kind of man kept a perfectly white brim in the desert, then advertise he’s a cowboy? Not one that Nesta has ever heard of that’s for sure. She carried the tray stacked with two mugs of ale over to another man by the front. With his brim pulled low over his eyes, Nesta was not sure whether he was awake or not. Every day he entered the bar, sat in the same flaking booth, never said a word, and pulled the mugs off the tray. No one ever learned his name, he just adopted that of “Ian”. When the mugs hit the table, Nesta turned back towards the bar to see Feyre taking the man’s order. The smirk on the man’s face made her skin crawl. It mirrored the one he gave her two weeks ago. She didn't intervene, though, because Feyre’s glare already buried him six feet under. Years ago, their father opened their saloon for wayward travelers and ranchers alike who found themselves in the middle of nowhere. Although they were surrounded by harsh, barren land on all sides, there were a few men in town who managed to make a decent living raising cattle and horses on their respective properties. There were virtually no women in town, save for the Archerons, and this translated in their incredibly gender slanted patrons. When the man at the counter had entered the first time, Nesta assumed that he would be the same as every other male in these parts: near silent, but never disrespectful. She had been incredibly wrong. He had walked, making his traditional slow procession, though unlike now, Nesta approached him before he even hit the seat. “What can I get for, ya?” she asked in a voice that was unnaturally optimistic, but usually earned more tips. He set his hat onto the bar, and slowly dragged his eyes over her body. “I’m not really sure, but I’ll take whatever you offer.” Nesta hid her glare at his look and the words. “Well on special, we got two types of stew and a meat pie. We got almost any type of liquor you can imagine migrating its way into these parts.” Meaning their selection was small, incredibly so, but this man already knew that.

“I’d like whatever’s your strongest. Two glasses. And one of those meat pies.” Nesta turned to fill two glasses with clear spirits, shouting into the kitchen about the food. When she turned to slide the glasses towards the man, he quickly slid one back at her.

It took her a moment. “I don’t drink on shift, nor do I drink things from strangers.”

He smirked. “Well that’s a damn shame because I really can’t hold my liquor.”

“You’re still going to have to pay for it.”

He shook his head, out of surprise for her response. “If you won’t take the drink, fine. But tell me a little bout yourself.”

“Ain’t much more than what you see here. I’ve been working here as a waitress for a few years now. My sister even longer. This town usually feels too small. I don’t think there’s much else. Yourself?” She heard a huff come from a patron near the front.

“I’ve been a traveler for the past few years now. I got no siblings who’ve been doing it longer. Catch work when I can. A little here. A little there. I like to think myself a cowboy.”

“What brought you through here?”

“There’s work on the other side of the desert, and this was the fastest way through.”

“So you travel by yourself?”

He nodded. Before she could say anything more, his meat pie appeared on the serving counter which Nesta promptly received and gave to the man.

“Sounds pretty lonely,” she admitted.

“It can be. But, every now and then I meet a kind soul like yourself, and I believe everything’s gonna be alright.”

“I don’t think a lot of people would describe me as kind.”

They were quiet for a few moments. He scarfed down his meat pie, and Nesta just watched him.

“May I ask what your name is?” she inquired.

“Sure. If the pretty lady will go out with me tonight?”

Nesta nodded. “Tomas. Tomas Mandray.”

Reaching out her hand to shake his outstretched one, she responded, “Nesta. Nesta Archeron.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Her father called from the bar.

Trying to be subtle, Nesta planned her date in the late evening, almost early morning hours. Her dress was the fanciest she owned, for instead of it being gray or brown, it was a subtle lilac color. It cost her almost everything she had ever saved, and she kept it sealed inside her closet to hide it from any dust. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe that an opportunity would present itself where she could wear it. She also never dreamed that her father would try to stop her if the situation arose.

“Out,” she replied coyly.

Her father looked at her, but he never tried to stop her. Though, she never thought he would.

She raced through the door, eager to find Tomas. Even though she knew she was early, she thought he should have at least attempted to put his best leg forward. The wait wasn’t long, but Tomas still showed about five minutes late.

“Hey hon,” he drawled, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Hey stranger.” It served as both a description and a nickname. “What have you got planned for us tonight?”

“Seeing as we very well can’t go out to eat at this hour, I thought we could ride through the city.”

Nesta would never admit that she had not ridden a horse since she was a child, but she did admit, “I did not wear this dress just to ruin it while ridding a horse in a dead end town that I could walk through blind folded.”

A smirk grew on his face. “We can walk if that’s going to save that dress.”

“No, we’re riding the horse. You’re just going to take me to the limits so that I can see something I’ve only seen a handful of times.”

He had noticeably stilled. “What’s that?”

“An undisturbed horizon.” He didn't say anything.

“I will take myself there on your horse if I have to, now that the thought of the outskirts is in my mind.”

Although Tomas was noticeably quieter, he led her to his dusted brown horse. Surrounding themselves in silence as they left the town, Nesta rode side saddle, taking in the scenery around them and the way Tomas arms lightly brushed against her sides. When they arrived, the geography took Nesta’s breath away.

The full moon shone enough light to trace the horizon. She could see for miles. They sat on the horse, watching the distance for what was both ample time and not enough. Nesta always knew that she wanted to leave this town and their saloon. However, she always thought she'd do it alone, but Tomas had presented a way out when he entered her town.

“When you leaving?” she voiced aloud.

He drummed his fingers against the sides of the horse’s neck. “Probably sometime soon. I really need to rake in some money, but I may have taken a little detour.” His arms squeezed her sides.

“I don’t really jump onto the first man that enters the town. I got higher standards than that.”

“You callin’ me low standards?”

Nesta squinted her eyes and peered over her shoulder. “No, I’m telling you what you should know. Right now, leaving this town—“

“I never said you could come with.”

She huffed a sigh. “Well, you said that you’re on a detour. I thought that when you jumped back on the regular path, you could take me with you.”

His chuckle rolled down Nesta’s back. “We’ll see about that, but let's just sit here a little longer. I’ll stay a few days and ask you again if you still wanna come, how bout that?”

She relented a nod, and the pair waited a little longer before striding back to town. Never had she felt quite as foolish as she did when she asked him to take her away. A day. They had know each other for a day. Maybe it had something to do how no one had ever looked at her like he did. There may have been mostly lust there, but she thought she saw a little admiration too.

Silence weighed around them like it had the whole evening, but Nesta was seeing that Tomas was just trying to dazzle her with his bravado from earlier. He was probably just as nervous as she was. But, if there was one thing that was not going to happen tonight, it was a kiss. Nesta already decided on this, and his indecisiveness as to whether to take her along sealed their fate.

Jolting her out of her thoughts, the horse came to a stop.

“We’re here,” Tomas claimed as he swept off the horse. He offered no hand to Nesta.

“I’ll help you put your horse in the stable out back.”

Again, they moved without words, and as he finished closing the stable door, she said, “Listen. I know that inside you really don't want to take me with you. So let’s be fair, call it off, and go our separate ways.”

“I am going to stay in town a little longer,” he argued.

“And that’s fine, but if the whole point of that is to get in my skirts that’s not happening. You seem nice enough, but I’m not interested in that right now. Anyway, I got a shift in the morning. Don’t be a stranger now come the next few days.” She offered a small smile and turned to walk away.

“Like hell you are.”

Nesta was not quite sure what had happened, but one moment she was walking towards the tavern, and the next the wind was knocked out of her as she laid on the ground.

There was a sharp tug on the back of her dress as she tried to crawl away, kicking and screaming. His hands found purchase on her bodice. She spun, trying to drag herself away, but the crazed look in his eyes screamed he wasn't letting go. With her arms caught in his, she tried to holler to anyone who would listen, looking around like a trapped animal.

Why did she want to see him in the dark? Her feet kept slipping on the floor below. Her dress made an incredibly loud ripping sound. She couldn’t reach the knife on her thigh. There was no stable equipment around. Her feet kept slipping, slipping, slipping, and Tomas was getting closer, closer, closer. There was no way out. He was a breath away.

Not this, anything but this. On one final attempt, she found enough purchase to drive her knee between his legs and bolt.

She never stopped running until she was back in her room, door locked and breath huffing. She slid down the door slowly, tears welling in her eyes, and she didn't sleep the entire night.

That stranger, at least to Nesta, really seemed to take more than what was offered when he showed up the next day. And the next. And the next for those two weeks. Her favorite dress, which was incredibly torn, was now embers. She’d burned it in her fireplace.

None of her family knew what transpired that night, not that she was going to tell them. Nor did anyone else notice that the only colored dress in town was ripped to shreds and burned in the mantle. The only reason she let that man come back every day was because they were incredibly poor and needed the money. He also had the decency to be polite and hands off with her sisters.

That never stopped Nesta from watching him like a hawk.

So, it was no surprise when she watched him graze his hand on the inside of Feyre’s wrist that Nesta stormed across that room faster than winds in a sandstorm.

“What can I get for, ya?” The exact same words that left her mouth the first time Nesta spoke to him.

His eyes dragged over her body yet again. It was almost the exact same situation as last time. “I was just offering the lady here a night.”

Nesta, noticing that Feyre’s arm was swiftly tucked behind her back, replied, “I think that kind of attention is going to go unreciprocated for right now.”

“Nesta. Honestly, everything’s fin—“ Feyre tried to cut in.

“Yeah, Nesta,” he dragged her name across his tongue, “Everything’s fine.”

“I really don’t believe that,” Nesta said coolly, “Feyre, you can go.”

Her sister meandered away form the bar, a scowl on her face no doubt from the tip she was about to lose. “Listen Hon. You really need to calm down.” Nesta turned from where she watched her sister walk away to look at the man sitting in front of her. Everything about him that initially struck her as charming, exotic, or expensive seemed cheap and cocky. From the thinning threads on his vest to the way his smile stretched just a little too thin, this man was anything but a man. His entire appearance depended on a doe-eyed girl, too blind for her own good.

“No.”

He cocked his head at that.

“I am not going to calm myself down because there is no need to. You, partner,” she drew the name like an insult, “are going to find somewhere else to eat dinner.”

No reaction.

“I said,” she repeated, “you can get up and leave, but more importantly why the hell are you still here? If you’re really looking for work on the other side of the desert, this is the calm season, so why don’t you try and mosey your way right out of town.”

“I think you really need to calm down. I think you’re taking the other night much too seriously—“ he stood up then—“And you need to loosen up a little. Your sister over there seemed like she could teach you some lessons.” Their eyes were now level, and their faces were extremely close. “You know what I think?” she challenged. He just breathed back in her face. “I think that you like to travel to these layaway towns and take advantage of any willing female. But more importantly, I think that people like yourself are pretty Goddamned keen to preach about how others should live their life, but you wanna know something about us around here?” Without breaking eye contact, her knife found its way into the wooden bar, nicking his finger slightly. “We ain’t ever been that religious.” She watched him make his way through the bar followed by the sound of a horse running off.

The next day when Nesta gave Ian his drinks, his hands had flecks of dried blood on them.

“Where those from?” she nodded towards his fingers.

He turned his hands over. “A foreign preacher.”

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live4yahushua-blog · 7 years

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Amightywind prophecy #110

Prophecy 110 MY Sheep Have No Worry or Fret, for I Beat the Wolves Off!

Written/Spoken under the anointing of the RUACH ha KODESH

through Apostle Elisabeth Sherrie Elijah (Elisheva Eliyahu)

Received April 5, 2009

Released April 10, 2009

(This is from Prophecy 105, YAHUVEH said to put this up on all Prophecies from now on: I warned you a long time ago Elisabeth (Elisheva) not to name this Ministry after a man or a woman even before there was a Ministry. I put it in your spirit for none of this has been done by your hand, none of this has come forth from your mouth. It is from the mouth of YAHUVEH that has given birth. It is from the mouth of YAHUSHUA your MASHIACH that has given birth. It is from the mouth of the RUACH ha KODESH your IMMAYAH that has given birth. If it had only been by your hand it would have failed long ago. It is by the Shkhinyah Glory’s wind that blows across this earth, the Holy wind of revival, it is not by your breath or it would have failed. (Isaiah 42:8)

In July 2010 YAHUVEH GOD also said to add the following from 2nd Chronicles before every Prophecy:

2 Chronicles 36:16, “But they mocked the Messengers of GOD, despised HIS Words, and scoffed at HIS Prophets, until the wrath of the LORD arose against HIS people, till there was no remedy.”

* * * * * * *

Note: Amightywind has been on the internet for 14 years but turns 21 years old on April 10, 2009. The Ministry has existed for 21 years but has only been on the internet for 14 years. I hope this clarifies all the birthdays and anniversary’s being celebrated. Each birthday and anniversary this Ministry has is a victory in YAHUSHUA our MASHIACH because the devil has tried to stop this Ministry before I was even born.

* * * * * * *

Shout it loud enough that everyone can plainly see the victory this Ministry has had for 14 years on the internet. In big letters put the date April 10th for that which the enemy said would be destroyed in Indiana the place of the birth pains of this Ministry. On April 10, 2009 has not only lived but flourished worldwide and grown to be 21 years old. This is no man or woman’s victory but this is your ABBA’s victory, your YAHUSHUA’s victory, your beloved RUACH ha KODESH’s victory, your IMMAYAH.

So I want no one having to search for this. I want it right in the enemies face for this is a day of great victory. Elisabeth [Elisheva], when I put you on this internet how few, how few and far between were the women Prophets. You paved the way and I use you to do what has never been done for you Prophesy in Holy Tongues. You can not even conceive the impact this has over the enemy as it is carried all over the airwaves to the four corners of the earth. Your voice full of MY anointing, full of MY power, stored not only in printed matter, not only on computers and cd’s but on ipods, on tape recorders for it is not just the written, it is spoken.

So this day is not only celebrated on earth but it is being celebrated in Heaven. Not only your physical birth but the birth of the Ministry on the internet and on April 10th, 21 years counted by human time. One day in heaven, and it is not afar off, all those that helped you will see the results of the faithfulness of one tiny, tiny little seed that started out as a small beginning. I not only use it now, but it shall be used even in the Great Tribulation and MY truths will continue to set mankind free as they believe.

Now Elisabeth [Elisheva] you know why the enemy always wanted you to die and when it wasn’t by satan’s hands it was by your own hand you would try. But through the Name and the Blood of YAHUSHUA your MASHIACH not only you have the victory but all those who listen and believe.

[MY beloved children], it was all part of MY good plan to bring you when I did for the burden became too heavy for Elisabeth [Elisheva] to carry and if I hadn’t she would’ve given up long ago. I did not stop there, I used her to give birth to “YAHUSHUA’S Demon Stompers” (YDS) and even in that she had a price too pay before I could send the Holy Angels her way. Now they (YDS) stand against the forces of evil as they intercede and they pray each and every day at least an hour at a time. These are special holy anointed Prayer Warriors and great, great, great shall their blessings be as long as they remain faithful to ME.

Elisabeth [Elisheva]: Thank you ABBA.

So I place you in a home where next to you in a pasture the sheep roam to remind you I, YAHUSHUA, am your Good Shepherd and as I provide, always remember, as those sheep next to you have no worry or fret, they trust that farmer to led them to the green pasture. So too, I have led you to the green pasture. I protect you. I beat the wolves off or anyone that seeks to do you harm. As those sheep have no worry and the lambs have no worry so you two who live in that home and those who are part of you shall have no worry. It is here MY Beloved that I restoreth your soul as you lay down in MY green pastures and not wander off and try to find your own.

I speak to all of those who allow I,YAHUSHUA, to be your MASHIACH, to be your Good Shepherd. I will protect those that are MINE. To those who look upon this Ministry as a blessing done by MY own hand, the nail pierced hands of your YAHUSHUA, will receive bountiful miracles from ME. If they believed the words that I have spoken forth and they have not been ashamed and they rebuke any retort. They rebuke the lies. They stand firm in what they believe and they do battle against satan the enemy and his servants that are sent.

Anyone that calls this Ministry unholy the true spirit that is within has been exposed and they are not of ME. Yea I say, the Holy Spirit is not in them for you can not call that which is Holy, that which only lifts up the standard of Holiness, warning people to repent before it’s too late, lifting up the Names of your ABBA YAHUVEH, I, YAHUSHUA your MASHIACH, and the Precious RUACH ha KODESH. Anyone who labels this evil truly I tell you this, they have blasphemed and they had better tremble in fear for every word they’ve spoken, I hear. And on judgment day their very words will be spoken again and they will hang their head in shame and if they could they would do it over again in another way.

But remember MY Children, I have not labelled this ‘The Last Chance Ministry’ for nothing. Anyone who has contact with this Ministry come face to face with YAHUVEH and what they do unto you is done as unto HIM. For no man or woman gets the glory for this Ministry, all Praise, Honor and Glory to that which you call the Holy Trinity.

So it’s on this day and it’s on April 5th the anniversary of the first time Elisabeth [Elisheva] that I told you, you are MY Ringmaiden and I do use the words spoken through you to reach this world, to those who want to listen and yea I say, even those who are forced to listen and to those who will listen.

On April 10th, 2009 I want this celebration to be shouted far and wide, 21 as man counts them years and this Ministry is still here and it’s for YAHUVEH’s Praise, Honor and Glory I speak this.

End of Word

Elisabeth [Elisheva]: Thank you ABBA. Thank you Beloved YAHUSHUA. Thank you Precious RUACH ha KODESH. All because we ask you once again.

(Elisabeth [Elisheva] Laughing) Thank you. We just Thank you ABBA YAHUVEH. Just Thank you Daddy this is truly a happy celebration, a happy birthday and it’s all for the Praise, Honor and Glory of the Aleph and Tav, Alpha and Omega, our ABBA YAHUVEH, our Beloved YAHUSHUA our MASHIACH and Precious RUACH ha KODESH. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Amen

Given to to this Child, Warrior, Bride of YAHUSHUA our MASHIACH April 5, 2009

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