#minor beasts spoilers

[whinlatter]

So I am obsessed with Beasts. And specifically I cannot stop thinking about Ginny and Hermione getting ready for the NYE party. It made me start wondering if Hermione has ever felt jealous of Ginny? Like they grew up together and Ginny was the younger girl, who was excluded from the “Harry/Hermione/Ron club” so she’s obviously felt a little jealous and left out there (which you explore so well!! Agh the telling Harry it’s fine, and maybe he’d rather hang out with them than her, and pretending to herself she doesn’t care!! But I digress). But now I’m wondering if Hermione has ever felt the same about Ginny and if you will explore this more in this work or a later one? Because Ginny is cool. She’s Hot, she’s sexy, she’s popular. She pulls off that Union Jack dress perfectly and has got everyone looking at her. She’s many things that Hermione is not (or hasn’t chosen to be). While Ginny has had lines of boys wanting to go out with her, Hermione has had Harry and Ron who are her best friends.. but Harry’s not an option (for either of them) and Ron has been pretty pigheaded and oblivious through a lot of their relationship (and her as well lol). And we don’t see a lot of evidence in canon that she has many other friends. People see her as the know-it-all, kinda awkward, sometimes ruthless (rip Marietta) girl. But i guess my point is, Hermione isn’t seen as hot, sexy, popular, cool like Ginny is. The Yule ball was her one big moment really. So her putting on that little black dress and letting herself be hot… idk it gets me feeling some type of way. Like yes you go girl! And I want to know Hermiones feelings here in regards to Ginny. Like I imagine she’s happy for her, but I wonder did she ever feel sort of left out of that part of girlhood/coming into womanhood that Ginny had just so naturally embraced?

THANK YOU for reading and for the beasts love, you legend 🫶

so i have been thinking about this question a lot! no-one will be surprised to discover that i find hermione and ginny's relationship in canon so so interesting. it's neither the relationship of natural besties, but nor does it seem to be a relationship of pure convenience: there's genuine love and warmth there, the swapping of confidences, meaningful advice, emotional support in moments of distress, and more than a little boy scheming (taylor swift wrote mastermind about hermione and ginny, change my mind). i tend to think of them as sisters, though very much with hermione as the big sister, and ginny as the little.

i say this because i think my answer is no, i don't think hermione would be jealous of ginny as a hot popular girl, in canon or after the war as i imagine it in beasts. but i do think that there might be reasons for different kinds of insecurity and jealousy from hermione towards ginny, especially after the war. full reasoning and minor beasts spoilers below the cut!

one of the funniest things about hermione is that, by her mid-teens, she's reasonably self-assured about her social position and her place on the dreaded teen romance market. after she's made some mates and sorted her teeth out (something she clearly was insecure about), she's pretty content. she doesn't feel especially upset about the absence of a large circle of friends or crave the approval of the other girls in her year, parvati and lavender. she has harry and ron's friendship for a lot of her emotional needs (and, beginning in GoF, ginny, for the one's that they can't meet). when it comes to boys, hermione consistently really backs herself (as she should). when krum's interested in her, she's flattered but not astonished that this international quidditch player would want to ask her out, and the ball's mostly in her court throughout their courtship (ok penpals!) when she wants to make ron jealous, she backs herself to be able to bag both cormac and zacharias and to have her pick of them (icon). she enjoys a nice dress up - the yule ball, the wedding - and knows she scrubs up well. and while she's tapped into the public mood/gossip mill (romilda vane's love potions, harry's growing fanciability, cho's quidditch fortunes), she's not especially interested in popularity herself. she'd rather be thought of as clever than she would hot or popular, for better or worse. i think we should take hermione's encouragement that ginny tap into the growing number of boys who fancy the pants off her to help get over harry in good faith. in her mind, ginny's her little sister, and hermione gets a lot out of trying to steer her towards things that might make her happy. (she disdains fleur for her obsession with appearance and seeming desire for male attention, but she thinks of ginny as her ally in being opposed to such things, not another rival).

(that doesn't mean i think hermione doesn't ever feel insecure or even feel humiliated socially, but that her insecurities are more about her feelings for specific people (read: ronald bilius weasley) than they are about the approval of her peers. when ron takes the piss out of her in HBP, for instance, she's less upset that parvati and lavender laugh at her than she is that ron, who she fancies, is mocking her and the other girl who fancies him, lavender, is laughing at her. for the most part, hermione in canon is happy as she is)

that said... i do think that hermione might have complicated, or even jealous feelings towards ginny in other contexts. in canon, the tensions in hermione and ginny's relationship are the moments where the big sister/little sister dynamic is most visible, or else when ginny tries to reject hermione's big sisterly approach and assert herself as hermione's equal. in OotP, when hermione becomes a prefect and ginny spends the prefect party laughing with tonks and sirius about behaving badly, we see hermione's big sistery approach on display, as well as her teetering with a desire to get involved with the troublemakers while also remaining pretty committed to being well-behaved in her bones. we see elsewhere that while hermione advises ginny, we have no evidence that that happens the other way around, or at least that hermione takes any of ginny's advice (it seems to hard to imagine ginny approving the cormac/zacharias plan, for one). their fight in HBP over sectumsempra isn't ginny calling hermione on not being involved in quidditch because she's not cool enough, it's the suggestion from ginny that hermione is wrong about harry's best interests, doing up i-told-you-so, being too wrapped up in her own ego over the prince's book, and then trying to manipulate ginny by bringing up quidditch in the first place (which causes ginny to go for the jugular and bring hermione's intellect, and lack of understanding on quidditch, into it). hermione's disdain for how much time harry and ginny are spending together during exam szn is also plainly big sistery, and, as it bothers harry, i think we can assume it's also something that ginny would grate against too.

in the post-war world (as i see it in beasts) i think these dynamics would be more visible than ever. ginny's lived a certain kind of war that's made her less happy to be patronised or dismissed as a little sister figure rather than an equal: she's also a symbol of the world hermione feels increasingly lost in. hermione is head girl of a student body she feels extremely removed from, while ginny is widely respected as a resistance leader among the other students, and especially admired within the DA. her conflict with ginny is really an extension of hermione's post-war conflict in general, which is about her place in the wizarding world at large: where does she fit in, in this post-war world that's both so different but also (in lots of troubling ways) very much the same, full of many of the same prejudices and problems that defined wizarding society in the interwar years. another of hermione’s big postwar conflicts, in my mind, and in fanon more generally, is about hermione's relationship with her self - as a former soldier now trying to go back to normal young adulthood - and her relationship with her family. the reason i wanted hermione in that little black dress looking fit was partly to have her try and reach out to her pre-war self who did enjoy getting dolled up and stunting on the hoes (even if maybe not in a dress quite so short, slay), but also to have her play with the idea of being allowed to do something so frivolous like look fit to turn her boyfriend on (real slay), and to have her start to publicly wrestle with a different set of external expectations, not from her peers, but perhaps from a parent she recognises she doesn’t really know:

Hermione tries for a smile, sad eyes tracing the dress’ low neckline. ‘My mum would hate it,’ she mutters. ‘She - ’ She shakes her head, throws up her hands. ‘I don’t know. Maybe she wouldn’t. I don’t know.’

i always think about that scene early in PoA where hermione and ginny are laughing with mrs weasley about love potions. it's such a cute moment - really the first hermione and ginny friendship moment in the series - and i'm very struck that it's a moment of real fun and levity that happens with this mother figure present (especially when hermione has just ditched hers to go hang out with the weasleys for what will be the first of many times). i don’t want to say too much for where things are going in beasts, but just that i think it’s significant that hermione and ginny’s first real girly friendship moment happens in the presence of a warm maternal figure who adores her daughter, imbuing hermione and ginny’s relationship with a sisterly-ness but also bringing into the dynamic the example of mothers and intergenerational female relationships. ginny has a very specific relationship with her mum; i imagine hermione has a very different one with hers, and i think that matters for who hermione is but also her relationship with ginny, just a bit.

loved thinking about this one, thank you so much!

#these girls #love em #thank you!!! #beasts #minor beasts spoilers #hermione granger #female friendship #meta #ginny weasley #romione

[leon-swedfinqs]

“The Doctor is a man, woman, neither, both, and more.”

“The definite article. I am always The Meep.”

“Oh. I do that too.”

#Mari doodles #redraw of an old post #sorry I’ve been DEAD school killed me #I have been working on minor things I promise #doctor who #doctor who 60th anniversary #the star beast #doctor who spoilers #the fourteenth doctor #14th doctor #14th doctor fanart #doctor who fan art #David tennant #david tennant fanart #digital art #original art

[phantomtrax]

WE ARE FUCKED. NO HOPE

#THE ENTIRE THING WITH THE ORIGINAL PANEL HERE WAS THAT HER DRAGON BODY WAS MORE DETAILED AND NICE LOOKING THAN HER PERSON BODY!!!!! #THEY TOOK AWAY OUR LAIOS GOOD AT DRAWING BEASTS BUT BAD AT DRAWING HUMANS CHARACTERIZATION. FUUUUUCK #This isthe most minor thing in the world why am i exaggerating so bad WHATEVERRRRRR #★ phantompost #dunmeshi #dunmeshi spoilers

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

the comments about kit's initials on jacob's chest in my newest bit of art make me so happy

bit of a spoiler for later on in the fic but yes she does mark him as hers. Who needs wedding rings when you can just carve the fact that you've been there over someone's heart, that's totally normal, right?

Idiots can't say I love you, they do everything in their power to skirt around it, but then they do things like that...freaks (affectionate)

#skelly speaks #ship: the wolf and the wildcat #minor spoilers for american beasts

[anony-mouse-writer]

Okay, so I feel like they were trying to find a middle ground of ‘modern minimalism apple-brand’ scifi and 9/10’s ‘grungy 90s’ scifi aesthetics and since the two are almost antithesis of one another, we got this, which has a lot of really cool bits and somehow feels off. Uncanny valley TARDIS.

Personally I think they should have leaned into one or the other a bit more

Either lean into the grungy and grit of 9 and early 10: darker white balance and deeper shadows. A vague sense that you’re going to trip over a stray wrench or bolt any moment and a bone deep knowledge that touching anything but the designated controls will result in a hand covered machine grade lubricants. Bits where the shadows completely swallow darker props and light displays that are largely warm toned, throwing stark silhouettes over heavy switches that clank and crash solidly with the sounds of well-made industry.

Or else a kind of futuristic, dreamy tone with metals brushed in rose gold or a soft blue. A sense of unreality in the way of fairy tales and half-remembered childhood games, everything smooth and almost untouchable right until the moment your skin makes contact. The softly cushioned thumps as you flip switches, like the gentle first notes on a new piano. White tones too soft to be alarming and a cozy romantic haze of nostalgic futures.

#these are just minor photo edits not a full redesign #I saw the pictures on someone else’s post and wanted to explore the aesthetic they were going for #and how I would have implemented it differently #dr who #TARDIS #the star beast #dr who spoilers #<< just a little bit #mouse’s art

[eternal-dragon-of-time]

Noticed some fun stuff regarding the items in the glacetomb shop

First off. We have confirmed evidence of Khione who is the queen of the ice elves. The Elven account in the Tara and Aria's scrapbook <3 is obviously biased, but if we assume that it at least is accurately telling who died that means that Glace and Kyanos fought with the 'Guardian of Ice' Fimbul, the Queen of the elves Khione, and our mysterious third party Al---ch (Aliaech?).

The frost shatter spear description is prophesying a breaking of a frozen prison, and releasing of those trapped in a timeless void. Note the use of the word 'Awakening' in the title.

Then we have the Lumen Ice Shillelagh. Its described as a staff for sealing and for laying spirits to rest, but a Shillelagh is a walking stick that also functions as a weapon for dueling. Even more interesting than that discrepancy is that Glace's mysterious cryomancer student had to lay Glace to rest with the beasts she defeated in an eternal sleep. Glace is dead, or at least her spirit has definitely passed on because she's in the Ice Plane, but the tomb is a prison that is going to be awakened and Fimbul describes itself as forever living entity. Tara even notices that it has a connection to the Leylines of Lore.

Guys I don't think Glace actually won that battle.

#aqw #aqworlds #aor spoilers #Minor points. The Cryostorm elves like Glace because she sealed the beasts. Hence Abel talking about how cool she is #meanwhile the Northland elves HAATED her. and thats probably because they are the worst but #there is a lot more to this story me thinks #Also Avatars don't choose Champions but they do choose Envoy's. I wonder if Kyanos picked out Abel because he wanted someone like Glace #Just the perfect amount of good vibes but also sketchy as hell when you think about it. #just like everything that the Avatars do.

[omaano]

I wouldn’t have been mad if this was the first or second episode of the season tbh

#Alex rambles #the mandalorian s3 #I mean the writing was very stupid in parts but in a way that was very on par with the previous seasons #something you can forgive because you can at least feel what they were going for and taking things lightly and awkwardly charming #if you’re willing to offer the show some good will #and if it doesn’t want to delve into anything too serious like. I dunno. intergalactic politics #minor spoilers for the following two thoughts I guess #din setting his kid down to have a training paintball fight with Paz’s kid was silly and great and very Mando typical I assume XD #I also assume that it is a mandalorian right of passage to be swallowed by some huge beast #would have been very cool if Bo-Katan had some flashbacks too in the forge #I love the idea that the forging of beskar has some inherent magic to it #since both din and grogu had their traumatic little flashbacks then #would love to learn more about what exactly IS the Creed and the Way #because so far it is anything one labels it as such #is some Mando philosophy so much to ask in a show that is supposedly also about the different branches and beliefs of what makes a Mando? #I’m starting to feel that ‘I love [insert name of the titular character here]. would love to see him in his own damn show more’ #is a sentiment that might apply here as well… may I be wrong though #kinda like din just being there in the background. that seems very in-character for him. but you know… #a bit more of him and his pov would be nice

[sugarcrisp-crk]

Minor CRK Beast Yeast ep2 spoiler

Under the Cut: Short comment about the aesthetic, and some neat implications.

I love that the theme they chose for deceit is a circus! Given that originally (and even to this day) circuses are NOTORIOUS for putting up a facade of fun and magic, while there’s rampant abuse and cruelty behind all the colors and glitter. I am so ready for interactions with Shadow Milk cookie, you already know I’m gonna love to hate them!

As of Posting: I’ve just barely started ep2. Updates later, if I don’t forget.

#crk #cr kingdom #cookie run #beast yeast #minor spoilers #spoilers #cookie run kingdom

[krunchycrispy]

I’ve just seen The Sea Beast and this is the closest image I could get to hearing this 30-40 year old man arguing with an 11 year old say “bollocks” in a family film:

Context; I grew up in a British household where the word is taken very seriously. Idk how loosely it is used everywhere else, but in the town I’ve grown up in you do NOT get away with saying that without a few dirty looks even if you were Jacobs age.

Doesn’t mean I didn’t split my sides laughing after the initial shock though.

#as soon as “ass” was said I knew this would be a good film #i love when the writers recognise the age groups most likely to watch their film and keep the censoring just right #from what I’ve seen the minor foul language goes right over kids heads as banter #and the way they revealed the blood on Jacob’s hand without showing any wounds was fantastic #the sea beast #the sea beast spoilers #netflix the sea beast

[harringroveheart]

screaming crying throwing up at the line i just wrote.

#maybe there is a beast #writing #hoping to post this weekend :] #also there are now very very minor spoilers about steve's pov in the recent comments so be careful if you trawl

[redg5]

Note before this starts : this will be a semi long post and just so you know I’m about to do a lot of info dumping for the owl house. There may be spoilers.

How the fuck would a sigil work with a glyph? Because in the covention episode we learn joining a coven and getting a sigil locks away one’s magic ability. Whither it actually does that or drains all other magic but one type is kinda iffy right now given everything that happens with the day of unity and the draining spell. Would this crossover with glyphs? Because like they are blocking off the magic a witch produces from their bile sac from what we’ve been told but that magic should be less their body making it and more their body siphoning the magic in the surrounding area and channeling that though the witches body therefore allowing the witch to make a spell circle. If this is the case then that means your not running out of magic if you use too much but rather running down the natural filter your body has made. So if that’s the case maybe it’s less if Eda runs out of magic the owl beast takes over and more she no longer has a working filter to keep the beast back if that makes sense.

The reason it could be this rather than being made naturally within a witches body is because we know ancient witches used glyphs to cast magic at one point in time. And a glyph is basically that exact process but the magic is being channeled through the material the glyph is on. We know this could also still be the case because when Luz learns her first spell it’s by seeing the glyph in Eda’s spell circle. So if a sigil is blocking the use of one’s magic then would a person in the plant coven be able to use something like the invisibility glyph which would be an illusion type of magic? Would an illusion coven person be able to use whatever combination is needed to create an abomination?

I would love to be able to say yes they should but we rarely see anyone with a sigil use a glyph. Most users are either children or wild witches. But mostly children. And even with the times we’ve seen someone with a sigil use a glyph we can’t really tell. The only person with a sigil who uses glyphs is Lilith and I would love to say this proves that you can use a glyph while actively belonging to a coven but Lilith was part of the emperor’s coven who has access to all kinds of magic unlike the other coven types. Not even the other major person who uses glyphs aka Belos has a sigil any of the times he uses glyphs. Even when Luz tricks him into getting a sigil we don’t know if it does jack shit because one it’s for the same coven as Lilith and two he immediately goes full body horror curse mode on their asses.

So how the fuck does this shit work?!

#how the hell do i tag this #the owl house #toh luz #toh eda #minor spoilers #luz noceda #eda the owl lady #eda clawthorne #toh lilith #lilith clawthorne #glyph magic #emperors coven #coven system #the owl beast #i have thoughts #so many #can I please get more world building? #toh belos #phillip whittebane #toh spoilers #toh

[shepherd-tothestars]

@infernalpursuit​ asked:

what does your muse think about "battle gimmicks"? Mega evolution, Z moves, Dynamax and terastallization? ( for anyone you want )

“These ‘gimmicks’ are complicated. As humans know, it affects pokemon in odd ways, but they are unaware that it affects us Ultra Humans as well. Z-Crystals are made from the power of the Blinding One itself, and the light they provide is healthy. Z-Crystals require further study. Dynamaxing and Mega Evolution is entirely off-limits. The intense energy radiated by these phenomenon affect us negatively. The energy of terastallization is somewhat similar to the energy waves of Mega Energy, actually, but it is far more subdued and ‘pure’ in a way. Terastallization also provides beneficial energy to us and requires further study. For reasons unknown, we have been barred entry to the place the crystals of Terastallization originate, by both the humans of Paldea and by Captain Phyco himself.”

“I know Zossie wishes to do all these ‘battle gimmicks’, but she must understand she cannot undergo the strain of the Mega Evolution Process. It requires a very sturdy human in the first place to handle it. Perhaps Dynamax Energy could be handled with better insulation on the URS Suits since it is entirely exterior, but Mega Evolution provides a direct link and exchange of energy between the human, the pokemon, and the stones involved and is therefore impossible for us to do without being afflicted by an Energy Aversion Reaction. I suggest she stick wholly to Z-Moves and Terastallization.”

#mysteries of ultra space ;; asks #handler of ultra beasts ;; dulse #infernalpursuit #he has a lot to say #minor scavio spoilers since he talks a bit about terastallization #but not really any kind of story spoilers or anything

[forestofmemories]

oh. my goddd nier concert what an incredible experience

#i’m. so. #the whole thing was amazing #it feels so. surreal already #emi evans and j’nique nicole’s performances hello!!! their voices are. SOOOO hecking good oh my god #the way they harmonized…….. their voices are incredible frr #also minor spoilers for the concert script in case someone finds this post using the search function or whatever #shoutout to my girl angelus you’ll always be famous #it’s never the queen beast. no! it’s always ‘a red dragon’ love that for her #ALSO FLEETING WORDS😭😭😭 #did not expect them to perform that song it’s literally one of my favs i teared up. cried even #this concert made me love these games so so much more #if that was even possible

[mooshywrites]

Bedtime Stories

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Halsin has ran himself ragged with bedtime stories, his charges demanding to hear a tale or two every night. He comes to you for help, hoping you have a few stories to spare. Unfortunately, this simple ask is going to leave the two of you with very little sleep tonight

Word count - 3.3K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, fingering, dirty talk, size difference, vaginal penetration, cream pie, established relationship, smut with plot, minor spoilers, mentions of past violence

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“And that’s when I knew I was a goner.” Halsin said, his voice low and serious. You stifled a giggle, worried it would pierce right through the tense air. There wasn’t a single breath taken in the expansive silence.

”What happened next?” A tiny voice whispered from the semi circle before Halsin. It came from a tiny tiefling girl, one that was hanging on every single word of the Druid’s story.

It was adorable watching them, watching your love tell tales to the children you were charged with taking care of. He was rather animated in his stories, hushed voices and sweeping gestures, speaking of beasts and demons and giant brains touched down to earth to take over the land.

The kids ate the stories up. Listened to him as if it were the last story they would ever hear. Each one of them could throw quite the impressive fit in the evening, demanding that Halsin talk them to sleep. He always gave in, sometimes having to make something up on the spot. You would think that with as long as he’s been alive, he would have plenty of stories to tell, but you knew all too well that most of those stories couldn’t be told to little ears.

You loved the evenings, though. Loved watching the gentle giant try his best to calm the terrifying horde of children. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness as you looked over the kids. Most of them had the same story. Lost and forgotten children, victims of the horror that occurred a few months earlier.

Only a few of them had actually told you what happened to them, but it was more or less consistent. Their parents had been killed, turned, or were simply missing in the fight against The Absolute. You didn’t know during the journey itself how many villages had been affected by the cult, but each one of these cubs were a testament to how deep the violence ran.

You could still remember the look on Halsin’s face when you came across a tiefling orphan in the streets of lower Baldur’s Gate. There they were, standing over their parents' bodies. The two older tiefling had been unfortunate murders dedicated to the god of murder himself, Bhaal. The Druid’s face hardened, his words harsh as he wondered how many children had been affected in a similar way

That little tiefling was one of the first that Halsin scooped up to rescue.

Since then, you acquired quite the group of wayward souls. What was it that Halsin said? Right, nine wagons full of the little angels. At first you had been completely overwhelmed at the thought of so many little mouths to feed, little minds to grow, little hearts to mend. But Halsin took it all on the chin, always seeming to know exactly what to say or do.

Yet, the panicked look he’s giving you right now? Maybe your bear wasn’t equipped to handle all of what the children required.

“Then…” You started, beginning to move around the semi circle of kids, your voice sinister and low.

The kids' attention turned to you, eyes wide and expecting. You could’ve laughed at how intensely they were staring, but you knew you had quite the show to put on if you didn’t want to be mauled by a pack of rabid cubs.

”Then Halsin stalked around the cave, trying his best to appease the Mother Owlbear. He knew with one wrong step…” You paused for a dramatic moment, making eye contact with as many of them as you could, “And he would be swallowed up in one gulp.”

You heard Halsin scoff and ignored it, seeing the reaction ripple through your tiny audience.

”How would the owl bear even eat Daddy Halsin!” A particularly brave kid questioned.

A valid question. My spur of the moment storytelling probably wouldn’t withstand professional attention to plot holes

”Well, because,” You pondered, standing up straight again. “The owl bear was the biggest one we’ve ever seen. Just one of its claws was bigger than any one of you little cubs.”

One of the kids, a pale ginger half elf, stifled a shriek. She clung to her brother who was putting on a very good show of bravery, though he was a shade paler than usual.

Note to self - Less scary, more story

”If you want to know how Daddy Halsin escaped, you all have to be good and get some sleep.” You ended, putting on a warm smile.

Groans echoed around you, the kids obviously not happy with the cliffhanger in their bedtime story.

“Aht, ah, ah, lovelies. Bad kids who don’t listen to Miss Daddy Halsin get eaten by giant owl bears.”

That seemed to do the trick, the children scrambling over themselves to crawl into their bedrolls. Halsin had let them choose where to put their beds, most choosing to sleep in the equivalent of a pile in the corner of the grove. A few slept a few feet away, but the proximity to your quarters seemed to keep all of their mind’s at ease.

You smiled as Halsin came bumbling toward you, a tired smile gracing his features, “You’re always better at getting them to bed than I am, my heart.” He muttered, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. You leaned into the touch, his large hand warming the small of your back.

”What can I say, terrorizing kids is my specialty.” You teased, looking over the bundles of furs. You hadn’t realized how heavy your shoulders felt until now, how hard it was to keep your eyes open.

Ever perceptive, Halsin knew how exhausted you were as soon as you did. He chuckled softly and let you go, “Go on to bed, sweet. I will kiss foreheads.”

Any other day, you might’ve argued. Kissing everyone goodnight was one of your favorite parts of the night. But you were tired, and, well… there were a lot of foreheads.

You padded towards the large stone door, making your way to the room you and Halsin shared. When the children first arrived, it made you nervous to think of them out in the open, separated by a thick slab of rock. Practically no sound got past the opening, after all. Halsin kissed away your worries, assuring you there were a plethora of animals who would keep careful watch over them. Half of which were even nocturnal.

Without any worries, and a slight feeling of fatigue in your bones the sight of your bed was a beautiful, beautiful scene. You sat on the edge of the bed, idly running your hands across the deep set carvings etched into the wood. It had taken weeks to convince Halsin to make you a bed frame, even longer to convince him to actually sleep on the bed and not the ground. After enough pleading and many a kiss, he finally completed the process, even detailing the wood with his whittling tools.

It didn’t seem long before Halsin appeared in the wide doorway, expression light. “Those little ones will surely be the death of me.”

”I’ve heard it said that being around children makes you feel young again.” You mused, tucking your legs under the thin blankets.

“Whoever says that is a fraud. They only make me feel much, much older.” He laughed, coming over to sit at your feet. “They love your stories, my heart. Perhaps you should be in charge of that for now.”

”No, I simply couldn’t.” You said decisively, shaking your head for good measure.

“And why not?” Halsin asked incredulously, hands coming up to rub your feet. You knew that his movements were a thinly veiled attempt at bribery, but you wouldn’t be weak enough to fall for it this time.

”They like your stories more.” You shrugged, letting your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the massage. “I like your stories more as well.”

”It’s difficult to tell stories with you around.” He said quietly, eyes trained on you. You met his gaze, seeing a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

That smile never meant anything good.

“What do you mean?” You asked simply, feigning ignorance. You could try to ignore the way his hands moved higher up to your calf, but you knew that focus would be short lived. No, if the Druid wanted your attention, he would have to earn it.

“I mean… How am I supposed to be present enough to tell a story when nature’s most beautiful creation herself is standing mere feet away from me?” His voice was a half a note lower than usual, barely perceptible if it were anyone but the man you loved.

”You flatter me.” You whisper, not trusting your voice to hide the way heat began crawling its way through your stomach.

Halsin leaned in, pressing a kiss against your jaw. His words tickled your skin, warm breath brushing over your ear as he spoke, “Oak Father, preserve me, how am I supposed to focus on anything when your sweet scent washes over me at even your nearness?”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind already becoming fogged with clouds of desire. “Maybe you are just less skilled at focusing than I am.” You responded.

He pulled back for a moment, still smiling grinning. “You think you can get through a story while being distracted?” He prodded

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. You knew the feeling that crawled through the back of your mind. It was the same one you had when you knew you were about to walk face first into a trap. One you just couldn’t place, exactly.

“I suppose so.” You countered, arms coming up to cross in front of you. “What story would you like to hear?”

”Hmm.” He thought aloud, pausing for a moment. You found your gaze fawning over him during the brief break, appreciating the way his shoulders flexed, his hands never pausing the foot rub. “Tell me the story of how we first met.”

”That’s it? What’s the catch?” You inquired suspiciously

“Catch? Why would there be a catch, my heart?” His expression screamed ‘innocent’ but your intuition screamed ‘SCHEMER’

“Fine. I’ll tell you how we met without getting distracted.” You started, leaning back against the wall. “I had heard you had gotten captured at the goblin camp. A very intelligent move by th-“

You faltered slightly as Halsin leaned back forward, lips brushing over your collarbone. You could practically feel him smirk against you, words muffled slightly, “Why did you stop? Distracted already?”

You felt a surge of defiance, a deep sense of determination against his taunting. It didn't matter how flushed your cheeks felt at the current moment, you would be getting through this story.

You would be the one to win.

Your voice continued on, a bit shakier than before, “So I decided I needed to break you out.”

Halsin’s lips continue to mold against your skin, peppering slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder. “I asked around quite a bit about you, but no one seemed to know exactly where you were.”

You caught another gasp as Halsin’s hands wrapped around the small of your back, toying with the ties of your bodice.

No. Focus.

”When I realized I would either need to break or sneak into the goblin camp, I also realized I was much too weak for either.”

“Mnm” Halsin responded, signaling you on.

Only, it was difficult to continue on. You felt the ribbon of your dress completely loosened, the delicious warmth of the Druid’s hands against your bare back. You swallowed thickly, trying your best to ignore the feeling.

“I needed to get stronger, so I could save the helpless first Druid,” You muttered, annoyance obviously present as you tried your best to keep your thoughts straight.

”Oh, my heart.” Halsin murmured, deftly pushing the fabric off of your shoulders and down to your waist. You shivered slightly, feeling your nipples pebble through the material of your underclothes. Halsin’s attention went straight towards the raised mounds, a strange sort of irreverent glint in his eyes. He looked back up at you, smiling softly. “You don’t know the meaning of helpless.”

With that, his mouth dipped down, catching a clothed breast in a gentle nip. You had to grate your teeth tightly to avoid the moan caught in your throat, thoughts holding on to your “story” by the thinnest of threads.

”Given up?” Halsin whispered again, a rough palm coming up to cup the other breast, kneading so lightly you might’ve been imagining it.

“No!” You snapped, eyebrows coming together as you mustered all the focus you could manage. ”When I finally found you, I never thought you’d be a-“

You couldn’t help the whimper that took over your sentence as Halsin dragged a thick finger over your clothed core. Your mind short circuited, wetness gathering almost immediately at a simple touch.

You knew, deep down, that Halsin had won. That it was hopeless to think you could’ve ignored his… distractions… in the first place. How were you supposed to ignore the way his mouth skillfully worked in tandem with his hand, the way his free hand had snuck up to render you speechless?

The only response the elf gave you was a low chuckle, his gentle touch beginning to rub circles around your heat devilishly slow. The sly cur, he wouldn’t even take the satisfaction of bragging of his win.

No, instead, he would just continue to see you undone by his hand.

”You're a cheater.” You whimpered quietly, finally giving up the game.

”And you, my heart,” He murmured, shifting in the bed slightly, “Are a sore loser.”

“Just… just touch me.” You responded, refusing to give him any more defiance than he already had broken in you.

Your druid was ever so gentle as he removed the rest of your clothes, leaving gentle kisses along your skin as the fabric slid off. Every touch, every movement left a deep need coursing through your veins. You might’ve been embarrassed by the depth of your desire if your mind had any room for such thoughts.

But no. The only thing your thoughts would entertain right now was him.

”By Silavanis’s grace.” Halsin whispered, leaning back, hungry gaze taking you in. “Not even the first drop of rain in a drought of one thousand years could compare to the sight of you bared for me like this.”

Your cheeks reddened further, arms coming up to shield your intimate parts from his attentive eyes. You were never the best at taking compliments, Especially ones as beautifully and lovingly crafted as the words Halsin used.

”Do not hide yourself from me, my heart. Do not deprive me of your beauty.” His hands gently pried yours away, his smile gentle.

”I’m just feeling a little overdressed.” You said, gesturing to the fully clothed Druid in front of you.

“I suppose you’re right, my sweet.” He grinned, hands working quickly to rid himself of his clothes.

You took the opportunity to marvel at the man’s physique. The way his tan skin shone in the candle light, scars shining. His muscles pulled and relaxed as he moved, the entirety of him an artfully designed creation.

It didn’t take long for his lips to come back down to yours, catching you in a passionate kiss. It was slow and purposeful, his arms wrapping around you to pull you flush against him. His grasp was strong, his skin deliciously warm against you. Calloused hands found their way to exactly where Halsin knew you needed them, one on the soft mound of your chest, the other under the curve of your ass.

Your lips worked just as eagerly against him, small moans escaping occasionally. Your hands clung onto his arms, hips already beginning to push up desperately.

”Patience, my heart.” Halsin’s voice was low, rasped, clearly holding on to the last bit of rationale he had left.

You couldn’t seem to help yourself, pushing your hips harder, wetness dragging along his hard member.

”Oak father, preserve me.” He growled, gripping your hip harshly. If it were anyone but Halsin, his tone may have made you nervous. But with him… it only made you crave him more.

”Please, Halsin. Please, I need you.” You begged, not caring how you’d been rendered undone so easily.

You weren’t left wanting for long, Halsin shifting slightly to press the soft tip of his cock against your entrance. You clenched around nothing, whimpering with need.

Halsin winced, showing much more control than you could manage. “You must relax, my heart. Breathe deeply.”

You took a deep breath and held it, preparing yourself for the inevitable stretch of Halsin’s rather endowed length. It had taken twice as long to get this far your first time laying together, you thought he would split open completely. But now, your impatience was wearing thin.

As if he could read your inner dilemma, Halsin finally gave you what you wanted. The tension melted from your body, your breath rushing out as an airy moan when you felt him push into you. “God’s above!” You whined, trying to acclimate to the stretch.

Halsin’s brow was furrowed, mouth in a thin line as he looked down at where the two of your body’s met, “You look so perfect with my cock inside of you, my heart. So perfect.”

You would’ve returned the compliment, thought of something else to say, that is if Halsin hadn’t chosen that moment to thrust all the way into your awaiting cunt. You cried out in pleasure, Halsin giving you no more time to adjust as he set forth a harsh pace. Every other breath was a moan, the sound of Halsin’s labored breaths shock waves to your core.

His hand came up to cover your mouth, trying his best to muffle your lewd sounds as his head dipped against yours.

”My heart…” He murmured. “Mine.”

His tone was graveled, possessive, and you could tell instinct was taking over already. Your own heat clenched in response, earning another harsh growl from your gentle giant.

“Halsin, I’m-“ You stuttered, your mind not able to take in both the pleasure and sweet burn from his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt.

“I know, my heart.” He choked out, his thrusts becoming quicker. He drilled into you with short deep pumps, sweat beading across his forehead. “Silvanus himself couldn’t create a more beautiful sight.” He whispered lowly, his hips starting to thrust more erratically. “Not more beautiful than you filled with my seed.”

With that, your cord snapped.

Your heat clenched tightly, incoherent moans muffled against Halsin’s hand. Your vision was blurry, pure ecstasy running like molten lava through your veins. You felt Halsin’s own release erupt into you with a growl, his teeth nipping at your ear as he followed through with his words.

For a moment or two, you both stayed like that, heavy breaths as you came back to the land of the living after such intense highs. When Halsin’s hand left your mouth and began to trace affectionate circles along your cheek, you finally trusted your voice enough to speak.

”I suppose I’m ready to admit defeat.” You smiled, bathing in the warmth of Halsin’s affectionate gaze.

“Surely you didn’t think I would’ve let you best me in the art of bedtime stories?” He chuckled, landing a kiss against your nose.

”We really must be careful doing things like this.” You teased, pointing to where the two of you remained connected. “We’re going to end up with yet another little one to take care of.”

You squealed into a giggle as he rolled the two of you over suddenly, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You snuggled into his warmth, deciding that cleaning up would better be left for tomorrow. Right now you were content being tucked into Halsin’s strong, steady arms.

“Oh, I’m not sure, my sweet.” Halsin smiled, eyes meeting yours with a look full of love and affection,

“What’s one more?”

#halsin #bg3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #bg3 #baldurs gate halsin #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #halsin x you #baldurs gate x you #baldurs gate x reader #the ideal man

[whaledenwtf]

Hello! This might be a weird request but what about Gale, Halsin and Astarion with a s/o who's super cute and friendly and overall just a gigantic sweetheart who also happens to canonically be horrifyingly powerful. Like potentially even more destructive than Gale and the orb. Enemies who know their lore turn and run just at the mention of them and their name strikes fear into many hearts but then the camera pans over and it's this short sweetheart of a person. Literally this post basically

Thank you so so much, I really love your writing! Also Happy Holidays sweetie! ☺️

I love this idea!! I made it headcannons so it wasn't too long to read! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please ask more, I love writing things for people <3

REQUEST HERE

Headcannons: Astarion, Gale and Halsin with a super cute friendly S/O who's horrifyingly powerful

Warnings: None, this is just indulgent FLUFF, Minor Spoilers for Act 1 and for Gale and Astarion's Lore

Astarion

You were always sweet with Astarion, and only made him feel comfortable and safe.

After he told you he was a vampire, you accepted him despite everyone else telling you not to!

When you told him you could beat Cazador, he didn't believe you at first because of your sweet nature.

The first time he realized you were a legend was when you guys raided the Goblin Camp to save Halsin.

You initially told everyone your name was Tav, so nobody really knew who you were.

Every Goblin met their end with a swing of your weapon, gutting them before they blinked.

It scared your companions, honestly.

When you got to Minthara, you told her your name was (Y/N), and she backed away from you.

Astarion was confused until Karlach, Wyll and Lae'zel spoke of your legendary moniker.

Wyll may be known as the "Blade of Frontiers" but you were known as "The Walking Death" and that was thrilling for Astarion.

Every monster, creature and being met their demise when face to face with you.

Astarion was a slave for 200 years, only knowing the bare minimum from Cazador. But knowing you were on his side, and under his thumb, that thrilled him!

Once you apologized about lying to your companions, they all welcomed you in their arms, especially Astarion.

As he slowly falls in love with you, he realizes that he likes knowing his significant other is not only powerful and showed no mercy, but showed him life through another lens.

You show him that love doesn't make someone weak, but stronger.

You're powerful, and having you by his side makes him feel unstoppable as well.

He is very grateful for you. You will pull him from Cazador's clutches and stay with him through it.

Despite your sweet nature, you kicked ass. You saved everyone you could, which annoyed Astarion. But he loved you despite it, and always will.

After all, why would he run away from the first good thing to happen to him?

Gale

He was also confused about who you were right away. As a scholar he spent most of his time in books, rather than the battlefield.

Honestly, his mind was distracted between the Netherese Orb in his chest and Mystra.

When you pulled him out of the portal, he was struck by your kindness.

Then he was struck by your beauty when you fought valiantly for your companions.

He was excited seeing someone so powerful near him, and honestly fell harder.

After telling you what Mystra did, you told him you'd kill her.

He laughed you off, until he saw what you could do.

Now he's worried he won't have a goddess to worship.

Your battle prowess is astounding, and he can't help but admire you as you shout commands to your companions.

You always were gentle with Gale, soft touches and sweet nothings between you two.

He always finds it difficult to associate you with your title.

"The Slayer of Man and Beast" he's heard Lae'zel and Shadowheart call you.

You always chuckle and tell them "soon you'll have to add gods to that"

Now he's even more worried about his goddess

Over time, he considers you his goddess. After all, you've protected and respected him much more than Mystra ever had.

When he tells you about the Netherese Orb, you shrug him off.

"Nothing will keep me from you, not even a bomb."

Wow

When you two are alone, he caresses your muscles and your hands. He's in love with the idea of his significant other being this battle-worn individual set to protect him

Throughout your adventure, you remind him that you would protect him with your life.

"All for little old me?"

"Nobody will stop me from protecting you. No monster or goddess."

Man you really hate Mystra for hurting Gale so bad.

You dream about smiting her and protecting Gale in your arms.

While adventuring, you always keep Gale by your side. Everyone teases you for it until you shoot them a warning glance.

You're so so good to him. You take hits for him, heal him in battle, and heal him in the privacy of his tent.

"You're too good to me." He muttered once, eyes closed.

"You've never been treated right. It's my personal duty to make sure you never doubt yourself ever again." You replied, kissing his eyelids.

He just fell harder.

Halsin

He actually knew who you were before you saved him.

When you said your name, he bowed his head in respect.

"An honour to put a face to the name" He said to you.

You told him you loved how big and safe he was.

"You're the one who would keep me safe, little one."

He wasn't wrong. You've saved him multiple times throughout your adventure.

You were very sweet with Halsin, always leaning against his arms and closing your eyes when you sit together in camp.

He found it amusing, seeing such a feared individual be so innocent and kind with him.

In his 350 years of existence, he's never been so captivated by someone like you.

When he tasked you with eradicating the Goblin Camp, he enjoyed seeing the fear in Minthara's eyes when you said your name.

Despite being a druid, he knew that with life also came death. He accepted your past.

He found the juxtaposition of your personality endearing.

One day, he was in wildshape lounging around as a bear. You laid on him and spoke about different topics regarding your life.

In that same day, he saw you obliterate 20 goblins on your own.

He never thought he'd be aroused by someone killing goblins, but you did that.

You also knew all the spots to scratch when he was a bear??

Yes that's the spot. Right behind his ears.

He liked seeing the way you treat your companions with such kindness.

You showed respect and compassion to those who you find deserve it. You helped people find safety, and feel safe.

It was beautiful, the way you showed such love to those who were close to you.

He always compared you to the ocean.

"Why the ocean?" You asked him once.

"You can be calm, bring peace. But you are also wild, strong in the most beautiful way." He replied.

He enjoyed the way you blushed.

One time, you asked him to wildshape and you rode him into battle. Nothing is scarier than seeing (Y/N) "The Tempest" riding onto a bear.

Even your companions were scared

Ever since then, you always did it. It was like couple bonding, somehow??

Gods, he loves his little tempest

Hope this is as enjoyable for you guys to read as it was for me to write!!

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 gale #gale x reader #halsin #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #headcannons #reader insert #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate halsin #baldurs gate gale

[petit-etoile]

in the moonlight (my darling, do not fear)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4184 content warnings: mentions of injuries, no in-depth descriptions, minor spoilers for astarion's act ii romance other tags: canon-typical violence, canon complaint, hurt/comfort, whump, developing relationship, love confessions, gender neutral tav, elf!tav archiveofourown: here. sentence prompt: "you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left." — from here. summary: defeating the orthon is no small task. the hardest part is what comes after.

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‘No!’ he shouts, and it’s so loud it echoes on the edges of your mind. ‘You can’t die.’

I’m not dying, you think but the words never leave your lips. In the depths of your consciousness, you can faintly remember the battle with the Orthon. Karlach had killed the displacer beast, hadn’t she? Shadowheart had blinded the Merregon… You remember violent flashes of light and the shaking of the Gauntlet. Trying to remember takes too much energy, and thinking about opening your eyes makes your stomach roll.

‘Get up, damn you!’ Astarion snaps harshly.

He paws at your desperately, shifting rock and ruin, and when he presses his hands to your side, stars flutter behind your eyelids so violently all you can do is moan. It’s your turn to shove at him. You push at his hands and feel your fingers glide against his skin. But I’m too tired, you want to say. I just want to sleep, to dream. Eventually, you give up your fight and relax into the darkness. Maybe when you awaken, the illithid parasite will be gone and you will be cured. You can only hope that it comes true.

Astarion has other plans for you. He curses your name so sweet it could be a perfectly mulled wine and leans forward. His ear tickles your lips, and whatever he hears come from it is enough to make him heave out a relieved sob. His hands are on your face again. His fingers are sticky, and they smell like powder. He jostles you so violently that you groan against your will, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to him.

Astarion rests his head against your chest right where your broken collarbone has begun to throb. You struggle to open your eyes and stare at the roof above you, but you don’t see the familiar ceiling of Shar’s Temple. The celestial glowing swirls have been blocked from sight by ugly granite floors. If you really put your mind to it, you can recognize Karlach’s desperate cries on the other side.

‘What happened?’ you whisper.

‘You were supposed to jump down!’ Astarion snarls. ‘Gods, why didn’t you jump down!’

The panic in his voice is enough to make you try harder to retrace your memories. You had plunged your blade into Yurgir’s chest but couldn’t manage to pull it out. It hadn’t killed him. Yurgir had laughed at you, had laughed at your friends  —  He had never hated anyone more at that moment.

It had taken the blade you kept on your hip to finally kill Yurgir. He had dropped bombs, you recall. It comes back to you easily now. Astarion had been right behind you and was going to follow you down, but you were so wounded he insisted on helping you jump away from the bombs before they exploded. But you hated heights, you hated the feeling of falling.

‘Scared,’ you admit.

‘Ha! Scared!’ Astarion repeats, tone pitching up in his hysteria. ‘Karlach was going to catch you!’

‘I couldn’t,’ you say. ‘I was scared. I couldn’t jump, I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Astarion.’

A shaky sob escapes his lips. ‘Don’t be sorry, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t close your eyes again.’

A shudder of exhaustion runs throughout your body. You want to ask questions. You can feel them on the tip of your tongue, but moving your jaw is more work than you’re currently cut out for. Without craning your neck, you try to assess the damage.

The displacer beast’s claws had torn your sleeve. You remember how its teeth snapped shut close to your face, and how now matter how hard you tried to push it away, its thick neck kept you from escaping. Shadowheart had distracted it with a clone. Desperation had pushed you to follow Karlach up the steps so that you could fight the Orthon. For Raphael’s contract. For Astarion.

You do as you were commanded. You stare at the shaking, makeshift rooftop and blink dust from your eyes as it filters down like mocking snow. Astarion’s head feels particularly heavy at this moment. With a sudden, horrified realization, you fully come to terms with the situation you’ve found yourself in.

You are lying in a puddle of your own blood and too broken to move. Half of the floor you were standing on has fallen beneath you and blocked you from your allies, and the only one at your side is Astarion. It must be like death itself to sit there surrounded by blood while injured. He could heal himself if he drank. You raise your good hand and place it against his white-silver curls.

‘I know I usually offer first,’ you say sheepishly. ‘But if you need a drink  —  ’

‘Have you lost your gods-damned mind?’ Astarion hisses.

Before you can say anything else, he sits up and leans over you. You are easily distracted by his beautiful, marble-like complexion which is marred by the dirt and dust and blood. He’s beautiful.

Astarion’s cerise eyes are frantic. ‘I do not mean to alarm you, but you are dying.’

Like the ceiling’s fate above them, the reality of the situation comes crashing miserably down on top of you. Shadowheart’s spells cannot penetrate the wall that has come between you. You realize it now. You press your hand against the hole in your side delicately and laugh a little, staring at your fingers coated with blood. You close your eyes, but Astarion’s distressed whine has you search frantically for his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, horrified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m  —  Do not hate me.’

‘Please,’ Astarion begs. ‘Just stay awake. Stay with me. Karlach is trying to get through; All you have to do is stay awake, please.’

You search his face for some hint of comfort, but it’s hard to see through the dark spots knotting in your vision. You do your best to push away the panic, to force the tears back into your eyes. You don’t want to die, not yet. Raphael still has to translate the runes on Astarion’s back. Shadowheart wants to finish the gauntlet. You want to save Karlach’s heart, to absolve Wyll’s pact, to save Gale. Selfishly, you want to kiss Astarion again without any of that which comes after. You want to savor the weight of his mouth against yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him again. You swallow harshly. ‘This must be like torture for you.’

Astarion chuckles hoarsely. ‘While you are very tantalizing, this is…nothing compared to two hundred years.’

You smile faintly. Two hundred years of carrion, and now you are laid out in front of him as delicious and forbidden as the feast Raphael offered you once. He ducks out of your view to lay his head on your chest. Though he tries to hide it, you can feel the little shudders of his sobs.

I’m sorry, you think to the ceiling. The weight of Astarion’s head against your shoulder is agonizing to your broken collarbone, but whatever he is doing, he is doing it with such reverence it reminds you of the religious devout and their steadfast adherence to their god.

He burrows his face into your chest, careful to stay small over you, to be mindful of your condition. He tries to balance his breathing so that it’s quieter and less disruptive, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot quell the frightened way his shoulders jump. You close your eyes for a moment just to memorize the sight of it.

‘No,’ he says suddenly, sitting up. ‘You promised. You cannot die, I forbid it. You said you would protect me, and you cannot do that if you are  —  Speak to me, damn you!’

‘’m awake,’ you say tiredly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You cannot,’ Astarion insists.

‘Next time,’ you say, ‘I will jump.’

Astarion shakes his head, and little drops of his tears rain down on your skin. ‘It isn’t the smell of you that makes it hard,’ he confesses brokenly. ‘It isn’t even about the damned Infernal runes. It’s you, everything about you. What is left for a disease like me when someone like you goes away?’

‘You will lead them,’ you tell him.

Astarion’s nose wrinkles at the idea. ‘I am not particularly interested in being the face of a revolution,’ he says. ‘No matter how beautiful I am. I am still a sickness, a beast. You are the only one good enough to lead us.’

‘You are like a sickness, then. A horrible disease,’ you say, mindful of the way his eyes narrow. ‘The only way for me to be cured of you  —  to be the cure for you, is to let you consume me until my body has no fight left, Astarion.’

‘How dare you,’ he says with a coquettish shrug.

You can hear Karlach slowly working through the rest of the rubble now. You hate to feel too hopeful, but you can almost hear the sound of the shattered floor breaking free. They were coming to save you, to save him.

‘That was rather poetic, you know,’ Astarion tells you. He watches your face intently as if afraid he’ll miss out on something exceptional. ‘You’ve never been one to use such gorgeous words.’

‘I wanted to,’ you say softly. ‘For you, my love.’

Astarion’s eyes widen as those words fall seamlessly from your lips. You aren’t sure if he meant to say them earlier. After all, he’s only ever been fond of calling you darling or a delectable little treat, treating you recklessly with careful honeyed words. As if getting any closer to you might coax him into accidental oblivion where your name might leave his lips thus solidifying you as something to be treated with care. A pomegranate seed between his teeth.

The shock doesn’t stay for long. Your eyelashes flutter though you fight against it. The decaying darkness around your vision has almost reached the center. You cry faintly and press a hand against your side, horrified that your blood is still pouring from you even if it is slower now. Perhaps you are running out of blood. You want to tell Astarion to drink it all up before it’s mixed with the sulfur and ash, but words are hard to form. Your heart skips a beat.

Don’t let me go to waste, you beg helplessly, reaching out to his mind when yours is all but gone. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from his chest. When you next awake, there is relatively less action than what was happening before. There are no violent tremors of a floor threatening to collapse. The sound of frantic shoving is absent. There’s only a dim hum in your ears, and the sound of a hushed fire burning well into the evening. You slowly open your eyes and blink away your sleepiness.

Shadowheart’s healing spell still hovers over you, but she’s not in your tent so she must be concentrating somewhere else. Your collarbone still smarts and you can definitely feel every single bruise you’ve ever received in your life, but you feel stronger, fuller. You reach a hand as if to inspect the wound at your side again and find the skin there is closed now.

‘You’re awake,’ Astarion says softly. ‘Thank the gods.’

You sit up quickly and feel the world turn sideways for it. Lightning dances along the back of your eyes as you try to steady yourself, and Astarion reaches out to ground you as you sway back and forth. You wonder just how long he’s been sitting there in your tent waiting for you. Your head throbs faintly once you manage to open your eyes.

‘Thank the gods,’ you echo breathlessly. ‘You brought me back?’

Astarion grimaces as though embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t the one who carried you back to camp, no,’ he says almost petulantly. ‘You’ll have to thank Karlach for that. But I have sat here since then, I must admit.’

‘Everyone  —  ’

‘Everyone else is fine,’ Astarion interrupts. ‘Halsin aided Shadowheart in your healing. Gale procured herbs, Wyll kept vigil at camp while you slumbered. It was all very twee. You’ll be sad you missed it.’

Astarion raises his chin much like a cat who desires petting. He would never admit it, but you can see it on his face. He’s relieved. If he were anyone else, he might weep for joy at seeing you awake again. It isn’t who he is, so you settle for knowing that he has not left your side since you escaped the Gauntlet.

You sit up further and wave your hand through Shadowheart’s healing spell. It doesn’t disperse as much as you wish, but you ignore it, crawling across your lumpy bedroll so you can wrap your arms slowly around Astarion’s neck. He freezes beneath your touch and begins sputtering, but then you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his face in the side of your neck.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you,’ you mumble against his ear.

You hear him swallow. ‘I’m not apologizing for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.’

‘I would never ask you to,’ you insist.

Before, you thought it would be a small hug. Something to show your thanks to him. You loosen your arms around him so that he can pull away, but if anything, Astarion drags you closer to him. He hides his face in the spot beneath your ear and inhales deeply, memorizing your healthy scent intently.

The hug lasts longer than you thought it would. It’s almost as healing as the magic, too. You hold Astarion as close to you as he will allow, rubbing circles and tracing his curls at the nape of his neck as if to promise that you will never leave again. You decide to sniff him tentatively as well, and beneath the dirt and ash from the collapse, he still smells like Astarion.

You startle a little when you feel his hand tuck beneath your shirt, his fingers reaching to touch a hint of your bare skin. Someone was kind enough to drag the heavier armor from you, but you still have your bloodied shirt on. Astarion’s cool touch is welcome against your aching spine.

‘I thought,’ he says slowly, ‘that you had sentenced me to a lifetime of loneliness again when you were felled earlier. At first, I was so angry that I thought I might hate you for your mistake. I wanted to kill you myself once the dust had settled.’

‘Astarion  —  ’ you start to say, hopeless apologies on your tongue.

‘You will let me finish,’ Astarion says harshly, though he nuzzles you. ‘Elves reincarnate, but how long does it take? How many years would I be forced to wait before I caught the scent of you on the wind?’

You’re freed from his grasp, but you aren’t allowed to escape far. You both kneel in your tent, one of his hands on the back of your head, the other at the side of your waist where your skin had been ripped open before. Astarion allows you to see him for who he truly is. His eyes are soft, weak when he stares deep into your eyes like he’s afraid he’ll forget you.

‘You have made this sinner a worshiper, though it’s no gods I am on my knees for,’ Astarion says to you. ‘The only hymn I care to rehearse is your heartbeat. The only prayer is your name. I begged the gods for years that they would save me, but you are the only divine who has answered my call.’

Your breath catches in your throat.

Astarion presses his hip into yours. ‘I wanted to wait to tell you,’ he says with a miserable shake of his head. ‘To think more.’

‘You still can  —  ’

‘I cannot,’ he admits. ‘When I close my eyes, all I see is your body beneath mine with your life’s blood spilling from you. You begged me to devour you.’

‘I wanted you to be strong,’ you admit. ‘Before, you told me you were only allowed to dine on creatures who couldn’t think. Who knows how long your strength would have lasted…’

His eyes seem to contain infinite sadness. You try to be intent with your words, but you’re distracted by the way he releases his head to palm your chest, pushing his fingers so forcefully skin it’s as though he’s determined to dig through your flesh to grip your heart in his hand. You’d allow him if he asked.

‘You are so self-sacrificing it’s insulting,’ Astarion snorts. ‘Do you think I would have continued in this realm without you? Never have I felt so selfishly about someone before.’

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Astarion leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. All you can think about is his overwhelming devotion even as you respond to the kiss, melting against the touch. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.

And you do miss it. You hate being in the Shadow-Cursed Lands more than you hate the lift in the mountains. Everything is dark and dreary and dead, and your companions are prone to being even more distant and distressed than they were before. You feel as though you are of little hope.

But Astarion kisses you now like a man who is breathing air for the first time. His mouth is hungry and insistent, and his hands cling to your skin more than he’s ever clung to you before. It causes you to blush. It’s unlike him to show such desperation. He’s willing, open, honest  —  yet this kiss is so different from the ones you experienced before. It’s almost chaste. He kisses you like a knight would kiss his charge.

‘But I want this,’ he whispers, breath ragged against your cheek. ‘I want you.’

‘Astarion,’ you murmur. That's all you can say.

He presses his nose against your jaw. ‘Whatever my intentions were before, to the hells with them,’ he says harshly. ‘I want us to be something real, something true if you’ll have me. It’s what you deserve.’

‘I do,’ you confess, almost embarrassed. ‘You must’ve known how silly I felt pestering you. You were the first person I sought out when I returned to camp.’

‘You did have a rather obvious air of desperation about you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh.

‘But I wanted you to come to me of your own accord,’ you continue. You touch the edge of his collar. ‘I lacked confidence. I did not want to force you into something knowing your history.’

He kisses you again. This time, it is a little less chaste. Astarion is determined to devour you, mind, body, and soul. His hands wander as though they’ve never felt your body before, and there’s something anguished about the way he returns to cradling the back of your neck. Your mouth is nothing but a scripture he is determined to practice.

You feel drunk with exhaustion. Having been settled between death and undeath for so long has left you feeling as though there is nothing in your sinew, and Astarion is making matters worse. Your head is filled with nothing but him and his unpredictable mercy. You cling to his shirt and struggle.

What have you done to deserve such boundless devotion? You have listened to, and pleaded with, every emotion he has given you. You’ve taken and given and created anew. Now Astarion becomes. Everything you have given him evolves to become this. When he is finally finished memorizing your mouth, he pulls away and confronts you with barely concealed hunger.

‘Say it,’ he begs desperately. ‘Say you want me too.’

‘I want you,’ you say. ‘Gods, you must know this. There’s nothing I want more.’

‘I wanted to manipulate you,’ he says, horrified. He hides in the crook of your jaw. ‘I wanted to use you as a shield, someone to stand behind.’

‘I am not a very big shield,’ you say.

He doesn’t laugh. ‘I was going to do what I had done before,’ he says. ‘Use your emotions for me as a weapon, but  —  I never want to see you near another weapon for as long as we live. Do you understand?’

You press a kiss to his hair. ‘Shall I stand behind you now?’

Astarion does laugh at that. He faces you fully now, hands cupping your cheeks. ‘You may as well be regulated to nothing but camp duty. You find a place for us to rest, you sew our clothes up when they come back with holes in them. I’d say you could make dinner, but…’

You brush a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes and run your thumbs against the swelling. He’s just as exhausted as you are even if he has yet to admit it. The building’s collapse has left him equally as tired. You encourage him to lay down with you, and he does, curling at your side with his head on your chest.

‘Will you be our fearsome party leader?’ you ask. You close your eyes and try to imagine it.

‘Oh yes,’ he swears solemnly for your sake. ‘I will hold the map and point us in the correct direction. Hopefully my leadership will lead us away from Shadow-Cursed things and back to the streets of Baldur’s Gate. I am so ferocious that whoever controls these parasites will give up upon seeing my muscles.’

You try to imagine your life without the tadpole. It seems relatively empty without Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s bickering, and you would miss the way Halsin and Gale are prone to rambling on about whatever is holding their interest at the time. You’d miss Karlach and her boundless enthusiasm for dancing. You’d miss Wyll, too. You’d miss the way he always watches your back.

Would you have met them in Baldur’s Gate? Would Astarion have picked up your scent and chased you down an alleyway intent on drinking your blood? He would be as he was before, angry and cruel and distant. For a moment, you’re almost grateful that the mindflayers had kidnapped you that morning. The circumstances surrounding it were dire, and you hated the gross wiggling the worm was prone to doing when it wanted you to be authoritative, but you would miss them.

‘I don’t regret it, you know,’ you say suddenly.

‘You do not regret what, exactly?’ Astarion asks. ‘Getting blown up and nearly dying? You should.’

You snort despite your best attempts not to. You press your palms against your eyes and try to keep from laughing too hard. For what it’s worth, Astarion does let out a small chuckle. You can hear his frown.

‘Aye,’ you relent. ‘I suppose I do regret nearly dying and. I don’t regret what came before it. If Raphael asked me to strike down all of the gods so that he would translate your back, I would do it without asking a question. You deserve to know.’

‘I cannot overstate how…appreciative I am of that,’ Astarion says finally. ‘But, just so you know, I would do the same for you without question. I have most of the time. I trust at least a third of your decisions.’

‘All of the decisions I make,’ you begin.

But Astarion interrupts, ‘I am sure you make them with everyone’s best interest in mind. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes you end up blown to bits.’

‘I do not regret letting you feed from me,’ you say, pretending he never opened his mouth. ‘I do not regret the silly way I fell into your honeyed words. I do not regret killing the Orthon. I do not regret you.’

‘We’ve barely just begun.’

You swallow. ‘And I will see it through until the end of time,’ you say. You’re fully aware that it’s too soon to make sweeping grand declarations of love, but you can’t stop yourself from saying. ‘You will never be alone again.’

You take Astarion’s silence in stride. You want him to know that he isn’t the only one capable of saying disgustingly romantic things. In the wake of your unconsciousness, you feel a rush of things you haven’t felt in quite some time. Life felt dreary in the mountains and worse in the Underdark. You hate when your world feels as though it’s crushing you. Now, even in the dark, it’s as if the sun shines on your face.

‘I love you,’ you say.

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you,’ you repeat, this time with more meaning. You try to roll onto your side, but your shoulder fusses too much. ‘I want you, and I want this. Forever.’

‘Forever,’ Astarion repeats, a sense of wonder entering his voice as he toys with the taste of it on his tongue. Once again, he sits above you, his head pressed against your chest, shaking as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat beneath your skin. ‘I like the sound of that.’ You smile at the sound of a purr in his voice, and allow yourself to imagine what forever means.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #from ，carcosa . #my fic