[18+] I am late to the party but that doesn't mean I can't still have a bit of fun! You can call me Brim. I make BG3 x Tav/reader stories and sometimes art. Enjoy! (all stories gender neutral unless otherwise specified) (Fuck AI 🚫)
> A hard fought battle against Ketheric nearly leads to your death. Halsin doesn't take this very well, having nearly lost you before he ever got the chance to truly hold you.
{~Honeysuckle Breeze [1/2]~}
[18+ AFAB] {~Honeysuckle Breeze [2/2]~}
[18+ AMAB] {~Honeysuckle Breeze [2/2]~}
> Halsin has fallen hopelessly in love with you over his journey but has struggled to find the right way to tell you, too worried he might scare away your skittish heart. It's one sweet night on the road to Baldur's gate that finally allows him the perfect moment.
Imagines
{~Falling in Love with a Quiet Tav~}
{~Tav gets Kidnapped By Orin~}
{~Helping Tav Through a Bad Nightmare~}
{~Looking For Something?~}
Art
{~Why Do You Stray?~}
Gale
Imagines
{~Falling in Love with a Quiet Tav~}
{~Tav gets Kidnapped By Orin~}
{~Helping Tav Through a Bad Nightmare~}
Art
{~Gale Dekarios The Man That You Are~}
Astarion
Imagines
{~Falling in Love with a Quiet Tav~}
{~Helping Tav Through a Nightmare~}
Wyll
Drabble
{~Jasmine and Brimstone~}
> Haunted by the weight of duty you carry, Wyll comes to help shoulder the burden
One thing that just doesn't get talked about enough with Halsin is the implications scattered throughout that deep down, he is afraid of himself. He is afraid of becoming a violent person who could harm the vulnerable, even children, if something went wrong and his inhibitions were removed.
Which leaves two possibilities.
He once DID get violent where the situation didn't cause it, to disastrous adults (I think this possibility, makes sense for the cut story where he killed Isobel [even if it was in self-defense, he clearly thought he acted disproportionately] but not as much in canon)
This is an extension of his guilt complex giving him irrational fears about himself. There is no reason for him to think he could do such awful things but he fears being Bad so much that he can't stop thinking about it.
Halsin really does bring out my creativity like nothing else and I even have ideas for a third part **huhoo**
Please be aware that I might change some of this in the future to fit the next part and that i wrote most of it while sleep deprived; if i missed any typos or the likes hit me up with a private message or something
So yeah anyways, about the story:
Halsin and Tav (= You/ Reader) wake up the morning after their first night together (see here for details) and go about their days doing hero stuff.
When things turn stressful for you, Halsin comforts you and takes you to Bloomridge park to unwind, not anticipating the effect some simple honey eating has on your desire to suckle ... other things.
-> Genre? Fluff & Smut/ Porn with Plot, some hurt/comfort
-> Tags? Oral + handjob (m!receiving), food play, praise kink (for reader), public (kinda) sex/ outdoor sex, dom!Halsin (but he is still a sweetie pie ofc), uhh yea if i missed anything let me know :)
-> Words? 5.7 k
-> Reblogs & Comments? Greatly appreciated <3
-> Hotel? Trivago
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The warm rays of the sun filtering through the windows greet you when you open your eyes the next morning.
You hear the soft rustling of your companions getting ready for the day as the delicious smell of fried bacon wafts over from where Gale is undoubtedly preparing breakfast over the fireplace. You feel your stomach grumble, and immediately a hand wraps around from behind you to gently rub your belly.
“Hungry already, my heart?” Halsin whispers playfully. “Did I not sate you last night?”
A sly smile spreads across his face as you turn around to the large elf holding you.
You blush at the thought and slap his hand away in mocked affront.
“Stop teasing me; you know full well how good you are!” He chuckles, his eyebrow raised in a smug expression that makes you want to crawl back under the blanket and hide your face in embarrassment. “You are impossible!” Scrambling to your feet, you turn to leave and get dressed for the day, but Halsin quickly sits up and pulls you back into his lap.
“Last night was wonderful”, Halsin mumbles into your ear as he places a soft kiss on your head. “I agree”, you sigh.
“Silvanus has truly blessed me with you.” You smile as you lean into his embrace. Halsin cups your face to look into your eyes, once again making your heart stumble over itself over the sheer beauty of the man before you. Your breath hitches as you lose yourself in his gaze, the brown flecks in the blue and green of his irises glowing in the sunlight.
“I want you to know that wherever this takes us, you will always have me by your side. I would give whatever it takes to protect you.” Your heart swells in sheer adoration, and at a loss for words, you kiss him deeply, trying to put all of your gratitude into that simple gesture.
He smiles at you before he pulls you both up and gently guides you to where your party has already gathered for breakfast, his hand firmly in yours.
You expected surprised faces —maybe even a disapproving ‘tsk’ from Lae’zel— but when you and Halsin sit down with the others, you are merely greeted with a smirk and a knowing glance from Shadowheart, who occupies the bed next to yours and has probably already spread the word of your union.
“It’s about time you two got your hands on each other”, Gale says as he hands you your plates. “I know what sad, hopeless pining looks like, and frankly, it was getting embarrassing. Even for my standards”, he adds with a sympathetic chuckle.
“Why are we not eating downstairs?” you manage to ask in an attempt to change the topic. Thankfully, it seems to work as Gale starts to complain about the quality of food in the Elfsong and how infinitely better the establishments in Waterdeep are.
The others eagerly join in the discussion, so you and Halsin manage to eat your eggs and bacon in peace without being bothered by any questions.
The day is already warm when you step out of the tavern and head down the main road to explore the city a bit more. The streets are bustling with people going about their business, seemingly unbothered by the imminent threat of the Absolute and the murders in the city. The hours pass as you look for clues on the murders in the city that hopefully lead you to Orin’s hideaway. It is only in the late hours of the afternoon that you stop at Cora Highberry’s wine festival and find a red-clothed dwarf about to attack her that you finally get the clue you’ve been missing.
Although the dwarf escapes before you can kill him, you come across a bloodstained piece of paper between the bodies of the doppelgängers that have been hiding among the festival guests.
Written full of names, some of whom are already crossed out, you realise that this must be a target list of some sort, with the notes on the sides indicating that the victims’ hands are to be brought to a ‘tribunal’ as a bloody offering for Bhaal, proving what you had feared to be true: that Orin, as the chosen of Bhaal, is behind the whole murder plot.
You need to find the source of this all, but for now, you decide to find the next victims and warn them, if possible.
Checking in on Cora and her husband to see whether they were alright, you then make your way to the next target on the list, a tailor with the name of Figaro Pennygood, who calls himself the ‘Facemaker’.
By asking around, you eventually find the ‘Facemaker’s Boutique’, a moderately large house located directly on the right of the road leading up to the gate to the upper city, next to a jeweler, and directly behind Bloomridge Park.
Something feels off the moment you enter; besides the two shop attendants, there are no customers, and the doors leading to what seem to be the clothing rooms are closed.
Hoping the staff doesn’t notice you, you open the doors and take in the scene that unfolds in front of you.
The dwarf—Dolor, as you had found out—paces behind a stool on which another dwarf sits, facing the mirror in front of him, his dark-skinned face empty and still, only the reflection of his eyes able to express the terror that has gripped him.
Dolor has not yet noticed you, as he is occupied with revealing his plans to his victim, and you take the extra time to take in more of the room, with the seemingly lifeless body of the Flaming Fist you had briefly encountered in the Elfsong catching your eye. She too has been paralysed by Dolor, who now raises his dagger to slit the Facemaker’s throat.
You interrupt him before he can strike, but the battle that ensues is bloody. The shop attendants you met in the front room turn out to be doppelgängers too, and with the Fist and Pennygood paralysed, you are outnumbered. But between punches, kicks, healing spells, and fireballs being flung, you eventually manage to turn the fight around. With a disgusting crunch, you bring your fist down on Dolor’s neck, his body finally crumbling beneath you.
You let out an exhausted huff and exchange an assuring glance with Halsin before you search your pack for some remedy against the paralysis that still has its hold on the Fist and the Figaro. Before long, both victims are back on their feet and luckily unharmed, although quite shaken by the unexpected attack.
Thankful for his rescue, the ‘Facemaker’ assures you a very generous discount on all of his wares, and with the help of Devella Fountainhead, the Flaming Fist, you figure out the meaning of the letters in Dolor’s pocket, which finally give you the much-needed information as to where Orin is hiding.
Apparently, the purpose behind all this is to be judged by the Tribunal of Bhaal to become an Unholy Assassin in his name.
Accessed by the local shop “Candulhallow’s Tombstones”, the tribunal resides somewhere under the city, and the door is to be opened by a passphrase scrawled into the corner of one of the papers.
When you stumble into your room in the Elfsong a few exhausting, preparation-filled days later, completely spent and eagerly awaiting your bed, you are greeted with a worrying sight: Yenna, the little red-headed girl whom you have given some coin back in Rivington and who joined your camp a while ago, stands before you with Lae’zel above her, seething, a knife at the girl's throat, and a firm grip on her hair holding her in place.
“What is going on here?” you ask, approaching tentatively.
“I swear I didn't do any-”, the girl starts, but Lae’zel jerks her head back and hisses, “Shut up, abomination!”
She looks at you now, her gaze filled with rage. “She isn’t what she pretends to be! I saw that filthy shapeshifter transform before she snuck back into our camp. She’s trying to infiltrate us and then murder us in our sleep!”
You hesitate, because that does sound like Orin. And no matter how cruel your githyanki companion might be at times, even she wouldn’t hurt a child without good reason. You assess the scene before you, carefully considering who might be lying. The fear in the eyes of the little girl looks genuine; her trembling legs and the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes are honest. As your gaze wanders back to Lae'zel, you notice an excited glimmer in her eyes, buried deep beneath the rage she is showing. She is enjoying this.
With a firm voice, you command her to step away and leave the girl be.
“Oh, you’re such a spoilsport”, she whines with a shrill, unnatural voice, and you watch in horror as her bones crack themselves into painful angles, as her skin seems to melt into white goo before eventually turning back into another form—one you recognise.
“Orin!”, you spit out. “I suppose I should’ve expected this.”
She tilts her head with a wicked smile. “I almost got you”, she giggles in her sickeningly sweet tone. You glance around. “What have you done with Lae’zel? Where is she?”, you demand, worry filling your chest.
“I have assassins all over this wretched city, and word has reached my ear that you have killed a most promising student of mine and have now set your gaze upon the Murder Tribunal itself.” She narrows her eyes. “That is why I’m here. Oh, don’t worry, little hero, your pet is safe—for now. But that might change very soon if you don’t carefully consider what I’m about to propose to you.” You grit your teeth, but gesture for her to continue. “You see, the little tyrant is a thorn in my side, always wagging his tongue about his little plans... Oh, how I want to slice him open and spill his crimson." At that, she clutches her curved dagger to her chest in an almost loving manner, “but I cannot touch him; he made me swear an oath not to harm him.”
Her intense stare fixes yours now, her voice trembling with fervour. “But you can. Go and bring slaughter upon Gortash, and I promise I won’t harm your little pet. But disagree”, she hisses now, “and your pet will be only the first gift to my beloved Father. If you succeed, though, we will fight fairly for the Netherstones, and the loser shall be a most glorious offering to the Dread Lord! I will watch you, little hero.” And with these words, she twists a ring on her finger and vanishes in a cloud of red mist.
“Fuck!”, you exclaim, the only word you feel appropriate to use to express your frustration over the predicament you are in.
“I never knew you could swear, darling”, Astarion teases, although you notice that his usual sassy tone is wavering too.
“Well, I think it's clear what we do now”, Gale says, breaking the ensuing silence. “We have to go find and rescue Lae’zel; we can't just leave her in Orin's clutches!”
You nod slowly, although you dread what that means. “If we confront Orin while Gortash is still alive, we might as well give Lae’zel up entirely. So, our only chance is to kill him and fulfil our part of Orin’s bargain.”
“Our alliance with Gortash was bound to break sooner or later; that's not what worries me”, you continue with a sigh. “I just have no idea how we're supposed to kill him without his Steel Watchers bashing in our skulls.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, a headache starting to build in your forehead.
“Then it's best we quickly find out where these things are built, and then we'll surely discover how to disable them.”
You wish you could share in Halsin’s optimism, but with more surety than you feel, you agree to head out the next day to find the Steel Watcher’s origins. Satisfied, Gale claps his hands together. “Shall I prepare dinner?”
With these words, your little gathering dissolves, with every companion except for Gale and Wyll, who were occupied with cooking, retreating to their beds, and going about their business.
Your shoulders drop, and Halsin wraps his arms around you from behind, planting a kiss on the top of your head before soothingly rubbing your shoulders. You turn around and face him to rest your forehead against his chest, his earthy scent settling over your senses like a soft blanket. He holds your small form closely against him, his hand wandering over your back in gentle strokes.
“It will be alright. We’ll get Lae’zel back in one piece. Whatever we need to do, rest assured that I will be by your side all the time.” Silent tears escape your eyes at his words, giving way to the overwhelming exhaustion that has built up over the past few months on the road and in the city.
“I know. It’s all just so much at once. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.” You sniff a little, and try to steady your voice with a deep breath. “But knowing you are by my side makes it all a lot easier.”
You feel Halsin’s chest vibrate as he hums in approval, before he lifts your chin up and locks eyes with you, his gaze full of warmth and admiration.
“Anything that troubles you, you can share with me. I love you.” Your chest clenches and your heart thumps frantically hearing these words from him, and you can only stare at him in surprise, lost for words. He chuckles and kisses you swiftly before you can even begin to answer.
“Now, let me take care of you”, he whispers as he takes your hand and leads you to his bed. He motions for you to sit down on the mattress before reaching for his pack at the foot of the bed, searching its contents.
When he has what he was looking for, he walks over to the basin near you, filling a bowl with warm water and grabbing a cloth from the table next to the basin. He places both things on his nightstand, dipping a corner of the cloth into the water and beginning to clean you from the blood and dirt that have gathered on your skin over the past day. He takes one of your hands in his and dabs the cloth over your bruised knuckles before he removes the blood from your arms and forehead. You regard him as he works in silence, your body warm from the closeness of you two and the gentleness with which he treats you.
When he is finished with cleaning you up, he takes your right hand in both of his, making it seem all the smaller. He presses his thumbs into your palm firmly and moves them up to your fingers, gently stretching them and massaging all the tension from your hand. When he is satisfied with his work, he repeats these motions on your left hand, eliciting a sigh from you when his ministrations relieve a particularly painful knot in it.
“Tell me, my heart, why do you insist on using your fists to bring on our enemies’ demise when your monastery has trained you in quarterstaffs just as well?”
Halsin looks up at you, the playful smile tugging at his lips only partially hiding the concern for your wellbeing in his eyes. You merely shrug, since you have never given your preference much thought before.
With your hands freshly wrapped in bandages, you join your companions for dinner, used to Gale cooking on the fireplace by now and enjoying the meal well enough. You pass dinner in silence, only occasionally weighing in on the conversation the others are having, your thoughts swirling around the upcoming day and the task that it brings with it.
You still lay awake as the hushed conversations have long died down, listening to the calm breathing of your companions, until you eventually fall asleep to the rhythmic rise and fall of Halsin’s chest against your back.
You sleep an uneasy sleep, memories from shadows and bloody fights mingling with images of Lae’zel’s empty eyes staring at you and of your companions laying in a puddle of blood while Orin stands above them, clutching her blade with a wicked grin.
When she lunges at you, you awake with a start, the room still dark and quiet around you, the silence only broken by the anxious thudding of your heart.
The shape of the large elf beside you stirs before Halsin gently wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer.
“My heart?” Halsin whispers, his voice still groggy from the trance he has just woken up from.
“I’m sorry for disturbing you”, you sigh. “I just had a nightmare. Go back to your meditation; I will be alright.” You move to cup his face in your hand, planting a little kiss on his lips. You feel his mouth twist into a smile beneath you before you pull away again, and Halsin shakes his head.
“I have a better idea to calm you down. Remember the park we passed yesterday? It’s not the wilderness I am used to, but whenever I need a place to calm down, I feel safest among the Oak Father’s creations. Perhaps a stroll through the park will help you, even if it’s only a small oasis in a city like this.”
Still unsure of what you had done to deserve a man like this, you nod your head in agreement.
“Alright.” You kiss him again. “Thank you, Halsin, that is very kind of you. Let’s bring some food as well - who knows when the next chance to eat breakfast in nature arises in a place like this.”
You both scramble out of bed, taking extra care to be quiet so as not to wake up the rest of the party. Once you have packed a small picnic basket, you walk down the stairs of the Elfsong and step out into the early morning air.
It’s still pleasantly cool, the sun not yet warming the city streets. Halsin takes your hand in his, and together you make your way to Bloomridge Park, the warmth of his presence near you slowly dissipating the uneasiness that had lingered after your dreams.
The sky is starting to light up with soft golden rays when you reach the park, the day already promising to be as warm as the last one. Halsin inhales deeply, and you do the same; the smell of the lilac blossoms is heavy in the air. You let out a relieved sigh, feeling much calmer already, and you wonder whether that is because of the surrounding nature or more because Halsin is by your side.
You wander further through the flowers and trees, the chirping of the resident birds growing ever louder, until you eventually decide to settle down on a small hill in the back of the park.
Halsin has brought a blanket that he now spreads on the ground, careful not to damage the flowers growing nearby.
With a sigh, you fall down on the blanket, relishing in the peace and serenity surrounding you and admiring the beautiful red and golden streaks that the morning light paints across the sky.
After a while, you look back to Halsin and notice that he’s staring at you, his gaze fixed on your features and full of a warmth that rivals that of the rising sun.
You blush, feeling utterly naked under his careful scrutiny.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask him in a small voice, feeling somewhat self-conscious now.
“No reason. Just admiring nature’s most perfect creation. You truly are a feast for my eyes.” He raises his hand to softly stroke a strand of hair away from your eyes before he bends down to you to plant a gentle kiss on your now overheated cheeks.
“If you keep saying things like that, I think I might explode”, you whisper with a smile as you sit up and hide your face in his chest, hiding the tears welling up in your eyes.
You feel him chuckle and stroke your back, before he reaches for the picnic basket you have brought.
Enjoying the still-quiet city and the birdsong around you, you begin to eat in silence, but it isn’t long before Halsin lets out an unsatisfied huff.
“Where are you going?” you ask him in surprise as he gets to his feet.
“Wait and see”, he replies with a smug grin, walking over to a nearby oak. When he steps a little to the side, you see that he has stopped in front of a beehive that clings to the tree. He reaches into his pocket and produces his pipe, enlightening it with a snap of his fingers. You watch as he blows the smoke over the buzzing hive in an attempt to calm the bees down before he confidently reaches for a comb dripping with sweet honey.
But as soon as he gets a good grip on the wax, he jerks his hand back with a hiss, taking only a small part of the honeycomb he had aimed for with him. He regards his meagre harvest before he looks up to you and scratches his head sheepishly, an embarrassed half-grin crossing his features.
“Well, that wasn’t half as impressive as I had planned.”
You cannot help but laugh at the druid’s nearly juvenile attempt at courting you, before you rush over to him to help heal the several red welts that have started forming on his hand and lower arm. He chuckles and thanks you by bending down to kiss your forehead before he takes your hand in his non-sticky one and leads you back to the rest of your breakfast.
He drizzles some of the honey directly onto the fruits you have brought and feeds you piece by piece. Turning back to his catch while you are still occupied with chewing, he notices the honey has started running down his wrist and quickly catches the stray drop with the tip of his tongue, deftly running it over the defined muscles of his forearm.
You almost choke on your piece of apple—the gorgeous sight before you reminding you all too intensely of the first night you had shared with Halsin. Although you do your best to mask the physical reaction that simple movement has caused in you with a coughing fit, Halsin seems to know exactly what you’ve been thinking.
With a malicious grin, he gathers up some more honey with the two fingers of his other hand.
“Open your mouth”, he commands, and his sudden change of tone sends shivers of excitement down your body. You do as he says, and he shoves the fingers into your mouth. Instinctively, you begin to suckle at them, the sweetness of the honey running down your throat and the sensuality of the situation making heat pool in your stomach.
You look at Halsin, his eyes fixed on your mouth around his fingers and dark with desire for you.
He pulls his fingers out again, leaning in and purring into your ear, “That’s a good girl. With you behaving like that, I cannot help but wonder how those pretty lips of yours feel wrapped around my cock~”.
You stifle a gasp at the bold statement, but the heat that is creeping up your neck and into your cheeks betrays the effect his words have on you.
You trail his movements with your gaze, wetting your lips as he scoops up more honey with his fingers and holds them in front of you. Trying to look up at him as innocently as possible, you lick some of it off with the tip of your tongue before you take them back into your mouth completely. Your round eyes looking up at him as sweetly as this make him want to shove his cock down your throat until you’re gagging, but Halsin reminds himself that he has to take it slowly with you—for now.
“That’s it, very good, little flower”, he hums, the sight of you sucking and licking his fingers alone is testing his self-control immensely.
The small moan that leaves you now as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of your mouth makes him tense up with barely hidden arousal, the bulge in his pants getting more obvious the more you suck his fingers.
You let your hands wander slowly up his thighs towards his crotch, fumbling with the laces of his pants. You are determined to repay Halsin for the care and kindness he has showered you with the previous nights, feeling inadequate in comparison to his skill as a lover.
You are still fumbling with his waistband and simultaneously rubbing his hard cock through the fabric of his britches, when he takes his fingers out of your mouth and pulls you in for a passionate kiss.
He groans as he tastes the remaining honey on your tongue, the sweetness of it and yourself combining into an intoxicating mix.
You feel slightly dizzy when you pull back from him, breathing heavily both because of the intensity of the kiss and from the arousal thrumming through your veins and heating up the entirety of your body.
“Halsin-”, you interrupt him as he tries to move your hand from his pants and instead lower you down onto the blanket, “l-let me take care of you this time. Please, I need this.”
He stops in his tracks, raising an eyebrow in question. “Are you sure that isn’t too much? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Not that I would mind you trying~“, he adds with a lewd grin that is quickly wiped off his face when you lower yourself onto your belly and free his erection from his britches.
You begin stroking him and are immediately rewarded with a low grunt, Halsin’s eyes now fixed on your flushed face.
With your elbows propped up, you gently nudge his legs further apart to get better access to his crotch and start licking his already swollen tip, eliciting a sharp hiss from your lover.
Splaying your hands across his thighs, you run your tongue along his shaft, slowly stroking from base to tip and back a few times before you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, careful to keep your teeth out of the way. It is a lot. Your mouth already feels full, and you’re not even halfway down. But you try to take more anyway, letting a bit more of his length slide between your lips.
Halsin rewards you with a low moan, the sight of your mouth wrapped around him and your lips darkened with your saliva makes his cock twitch as you continue moving, your head bobbing up and down between his legs.
Halsin snakes his hand into your hair, his firm grip guiding you at a pace that has him growling.
“By Silvanus, you’re incredible- hngh!”
You feel Halsin throb in your mouth, and the muscles in his thighs tense in an attempt to stop himself from bucking into your throat.
“W-where did you learn to use your mouth like that?”
You pull your mouth off his tip with a small pop and look up at him, your lips curling into an embarrassed sort of grin.
“Cucumbers”, you shrug.
“Cucumbers?”
You nod, sure your face must be bright red by now.
Halsin just stares at you, and you begin to feel a little self-conscious as he suddenly lets out a hearty laugh, his whole body vibrating beneath your hands.
“You’re full of surprises, my little flower.” He shakes his head and gently strokes your hair, before his gaze falls back onto your reddened lips.
You see the desire flare up in his eyes again, and feel his hand in your hair tighten its grip.
He bends down towards you, and with his fist guiding you back towards his erection, he whispers into your ear. “Now, be a good girl and keep sucking my cock. I want to see you swallow.”
You gulp, his commanding tone so different from his usual gentle one yet nevertheless sending sparks straight into your core and causing more wetness to gather between your thighs.
Licking your lips, you obey and take Halsin into your mouth again, this time swirling your tongue around to taste the pearl of precum that has gathered on his tip, spreading the salty, unfamiliar taste around.
“Gods, if I’d known your mouth feels so heavenly wrapped around me, I’d have let you try this sooner-”, he growls, his body tensing under your ministrations.
Sliding further down, you press your tongue on the underside of his cock and hollow your cheeks, Halsin groaning in response. With a sigh, he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back, enjoying the wet-hot sensation of your mouth taking him in.
His hand in your hair that has been steadily guiding you begins to increase the pace now, his climax approaching with every move of your tongue against him.
His length fills your mouth completely now, and you try to steady your movements in order to avoid gagging, focusing on your breathing.
You feel Halsin twitch in your mouth, signalling to you that he is close to release, so you raise your head a bit and wrap your hand around the base of his cock, saliva from your previous efforts dribbling down your chin and onto your hand.
He makes a strangled noise as you begin pumping him while your mouth and tongue work on his tip, alternating between sucking and licking, and he cannot help but buck his hips into your mouth, his self-control finally leaving him.
“Silvanus, preserve me—ugh—I'm close!”
You gag as he thrusts into your throat, struggling to accommodate his length while focusing on repressing the uncomfortable feeling that sends tears to your eyes.
But you are determined to make this work, to make Halsin feel as good as he made you feel, so you try to ignore the gagging and let him fuck your mouth, moans and curses falling from his lips as he does so.
You feel him twitching inside you, his release approaching ever faster, and you look up at him, not wanting to miss a second of the pleasure you’re about to grant him.
With his gaze locked onto yours and your hand still firmly wrapped around the base of his shaft, your mouth so willingly accepting his desperate thrusts, it doesn’t take long for him to reach climax, hips and thighs tensing before he jerks, shooting ropes of thick, warm cum into your mouth.
“Swallow”, he commands in a raspy voice before his body goes limp beneath you and he leans back, arms behind him supporting him so he could see how you struggled and failed to swallow his seed, some of it leaking out of your mouth and dripping down your chin.
Your abused throat is protesting as you finally manage to gulp it all down, your face flushing with self-consciousness as you realise that you might, in fact, not have been as ready to take him as you had initially thought.
But these thoughts vanish as Halsin pulls you into his lap and softly strokes your head. He plants a little kiss on your cheek before he murmurs into your ear, his voice still ragged.
“Good girl. You’ve taken me so well.”
You moan at the praise, your so-far neglected pussy twitching as his words send sparks down your spine.
Halsin chuckles and slowly slides a hand under your waistband and into your smallclothes, stroking your slick folds and eliciting moans and sighs from you as he massages your clit, all the while kissing you and murmuring praise for your efforts into your ear.
It doesn’t take long for you to unravel as well, cumming on his hand with a muffled scream, biting down onto the tunic Halsin was still wearing.
Exhausted, you collapse onto the blanket, planting your head on Halsin’s lap and closing your eyes, the now-risen sun warming your face as you smile happily.
Halsin adjusts his hips a bit and readjusts his britches, carefully surveying the park to see if anyone else has entered by now. Luckily, you two were still alone, the only sign of life being the faint sounds of the streets beyond the park slowly filling with people.
He glances back down at you and begins to gently stroke your hair that is spread out over his legs, the sweet smile on your mouth in complete contrast to the earth-shattering orgasm you gave him with that same mouth just moments ago.
“Thank you, my heart; that was amazing. Unexpected, but nevertheless positively breath-taking.” He watches as your smile broadens at his praise and his heart swells with adoration at the cute little dimples in your cheeks.
“I’m glad you liked it”, you try to say, but instead croak out more than anything. Halsin frowns, worry beginning to cloud his eyes.
“Sorry, I think I might have overestimated myself a bit there. Bitten off more than I could chew. Figuratively, of course”, you add with a shy grin.
He smiles, but then his gaze turns solemn again. “You should’ve told me right away. I hurt you”, he grimaces before he grazes his fingers over your throat, his touch featherlight and glowing with a faint blue light. The healing spell soothes your ache, and you sigh contentedly.
“All right, next time I will tell you, should you hurt me accidentally”, you mumble, sleep slowly creeping up at you in the comfortable warmth of your lover's lap.
Halsin hums in approval, satisfied with your answer.
“I shall look forward to next time, then.”
You slowly drift off, the smell of the flowers around you and the chirping birds lulling you into sleep as you both lay there for a while before you have to get back to your companions to begin the day’s work.
I am once again screaming inside because at his core Halsin is a deeply PLAYFUL person!
His playful, sarcastic "I AM?!" when you say he's big for an elf! He has banters where he teasingly roasts Shadowheart AND Gale at different times! He teases that you might be a lunatic for freeing a bear without knowing if it would attack you, he indulges the Drow twins by changing into a bear and letting the player ride him around, he loves bear puns (or really animal jokes in general), the way he flexes his muscles if the player mentions him moving things three grown men couldn't...
He wants to PLAY!!! The reason he's so serious for most of the story isn't because he's just the "sage wise archdruid" but because all the trauma he's faced FORCED him to be. Given the slightest bit of a chance to be himself (like traveling with a camp full of weirdos), he instantly shows his playful side, and it only comes out more in his epilogue.
The game gives seriously so many whumpable ideas for Halsin.
He has been kidnapped two, possibly three times by the end of the game. One of which involved him becoming a sex slave and one of which involved him being tortured by goblins.
He can't always control his bear form. Has transforming at the wrong time ever hurt him?
He doesn't fit in at his Grove, and especially he hates being leader of his Grove. He must be awful lonely.
He saw almost all his friends and his mentor die in battle. Imagine him wearily leading the survivors to safety.
He has abandonment issues! Literally any time you break up with him, split the group up in the end, etc he says he knows nothing lasts forever. He is SHOCKED you want to go with him to his commune, and if solomanced he is fully convinced the party will remind you how much you loved adventuring, causing you to leave him.
He used to have a drinking problem! Imagine all the angst there!
That scar on his face. He must have gotten FUUUUCKED UPPPP to be so badly scarred that magic couldn't fix it.
His entire family is dead, and died when he was young at that!
His reputation from when he was a sex slave is such that the Drow twins had already heard of him.
The player has the ability to threaten to sell him back to his captors- imagine a whumper doing that to him.
The Grove raid! Imagine his agony at realizing all the Druids he cared for are dead.
Similarly, the Rite of Thorns- his knowledge that his Druids wanted him gone.
If he's kidnapped by Orin, his reaction to being rescued- or to Speak With Dead being used on his corpse- makes it clear he never expected to be saved. How does he get to THAT point?
He mentions people have tried to start fights with him before because he's big and they want to prove their strength like how sad must that have been for him????
The Orin abduction scenes hint that he is actually terrified of losing control of himself and harming innocents. Imagine what must have happened to make him afraid of that- either having done it before, OR thinking so lowly of himself that he thinks it actually could happen despite the lack of evidence.
And that's not even getting into all the cut early game build whump...
Maybe it's the new year's alcohol talking, but I find myself thinking about... Halsin who genuinely and truly enjoys people coming on to him, and being open and forthcoming about their inclinations and desires (see his dialogue with a duergar when they hit on him - "are you coming on to me? Let's skip straight to the sweaty stuff" "you are not bound by social niceties... I like that" and him reassuring the player that he "would have done the same" if they hit on him @ the tief party and then apologize the next day) vs Halsin who... Approves and sees it as a romance flag if you /do/ apologize the next day. He likes it when you come onto him, but he also likes it if you.. apologize for taking it too far. He likes it when people consider his boundaries, when they think about his feelings. I think he's so used to people "imagining his feelings can't be hurt" and seeing him as a conquest that part of his romantic feelings for the player stem from a place of genuinely feeling heard and considered by them.
Halsin with a partner who was a parentified child and had to claw their way out of that caretaker role, and who sees a lot of their old self in Halsin and wants to help him remember that the entire world is not his burden to carry, that he exists as a person outside of that leader role. Or if you want some sadness, a parentified partner who gets triggered by Halsin's (sometimes unhealthy) "I will fix everything" attitude.
Bye ❤️ Love what you do ! ❤️
No no you're so right because he really does need someone to tell him it's not his job to take care of the entire world. I need him to learn the line between helpfulness and burdening yourself with other people's responsibilities. Sometimes bad things will happen, sometimes they aren't your fault and it isn't your responsibility to do anything about it, sometimes you can't save everyone. I need someone to tell him to take care of himself and I need him to not understand what that even really means. Oooooh this is so painful
This is far and away one of my favorite screenshots I've ever taken. Al'vrin and Halsin are so fed up. Like they are absolutely READY to tear this guy apart. It's one of the very few situations where either of them get genuinely pissed it's hilarious
Karlach, Shadowheart and Astarion Helping Tav Through a Nightmare
{~Masterlist~}
Word Count: 3.1k
Karlach
The lightest sleeper you’ve ever met. A pin could drop and she’d wake to it. Spending ten years at war amongst back-stabbing devils will do that to you. Though she’s found sleeping with a partner had helped, a luxury she only allowed when she was sure she wouldn’t burn you alive at night. Still, sleep is a rather fleeting gift you give, and even if you calm her enough not to wake at a mildly aggressive crackle from the distant camp fire, it doesn’t stop her being immediately torn from sleep when it sounds like you might be in trouble.
Her body shoots awake at your first caught breath, eyes blinking at the strange emptiness of you not safely tucked into her arms. She sits up quickly, finding you a few inches away. Shivering from the cold, she initially thinks. But the whimper of something distinctly worse seizes her infernal heart for a long moment. She leans over, studying you, hoping that she wouldn’t find a horror scene on the other side. Her mind flits to old memories – bloody memories. She is thankful to find you still in one piece, though your distress doesn’t make it seem so. Your face contorts into something wrong, choked breathing the sign of silent cries. Yet your eyes stay screwed shut, mind somewhere else entirely.
She knows the signs well and needs no more evidence to know what’s happening. Her heart practically shatters in her chest, dread spreading through her in an instant. She leans closer, her hand hesitating mostly out of habit before falling on your upper arm, gently shaking you.
“Hey,” she whispers, trying to be as careful as she can with waking you from the dark place you were clearly in.
“Hey,” she calls just that bit harsher. She knows she succeeded when you jolt, entirely too tense and panicked.
“It’s just me, love,” she murmured, letting you frantically check your surroundings before your eyes found her. You catch there for a while, tears still rolling and the pain in your eyes hardly fading. She knows then it must have been a bad one.
“It was just a dream. You’re safe,” she tries to soothe, the words once something she wished someone would have said to her in a similar moment. She's thankful when you finally start to breathe again.
“Karlach?” You ask as if you don’t believe you see her right now. Her stomach twists at the unfamiliar sound. She pulls you close to her before speaking again.
“It’s me. I’m right here. You’re gonna be okay-” you fall into her chest with a mess of sobs. She tenses, taken aback by the suddenness. But it isn’t even a moment later that she’s wrapped entirely around you, legs and tail gripping you as close as her arms do. Her own tears follow quickly after, the pain of your sobs evoking her own.
The two of you remain like this until the tears slowly calm into sniffles and clinging hands loosen. She takes a deep breath before slightly pulling away and holding your face in her hands. Just to make sure you were still here.
“Nightmares get you too?” She tries to be a bit lighthearted, but her voice is still shaky and the smile she attempts is strained. You stared at her, mouth agape, as if she had just revealed the most shocking truth.
“You too?” you answer and she looks a bit uneasy about the admission, but nods anyway.
“Not a lot’a good things to dream about,” she mutters before shaking her head, eyes focusing back on you.
“But this isn't about me. You okay?” Her worry is palpable – undeniably there. You place your hands against hers, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before you answer.
“Just a bit shaky. I’ll be fine,” you try to assure her, but the look on her face tells you she isn’t satisfied with the answer.
“Maybe we should get you some fresh air. Go for a walk or something,” she proposes the idea. You consider it for a moment before agreeing.
“I think I could use the breather-” in an instant you’re off the ground and she’s shuffling the both of you out of the tent.
“Wait- wait! You don’t have to carry me-!”
“Oh sweetheart, that’s real funny,” she cuts off your attempt at protest, assuring you quickly that she was going to be carrying you for this entire little midnight adventure. You figured it better not to argue further. You did enjoy staying warm in her arms, after all.
Her lightest sleep returns after that night, now on high alert for the slightest disturbance. Late night walks become a regular between the two of you. It's during them that you try to dissuade her worry but that only helps so much. She holds you even closer than before as she sleeps, not so much as letting you get an inch out of reach no matter how hot the night is.
You had tried once, and she literally growled at you.
Shadowheart
Shadowheart hasn’t learned what a sleep schedule is. All she knows is that sometimes she’s tired, and so she rests. It doesn’t matter what time of day, for how long or sometimes even where she sleeps. If she gets comfortable and she’s tired she will just pass out.
This can make sleeping with her a bit difficult at times, and so she insists that you rest in her tent whenever you need to and she’ll join you when she’s ready. Tonight goes just the same as it has been, her staying up late by the fire while you had long since gone to sleep. But eventually she does grow weary and so she returns to lay with you.
She makes it just outside the tent when she hears your strange strained breath, her nerves already set on edge. For a heart-stopping moment she feared the worst. However, opening the flap of the tent only revealed a sorry sight. Your back straightened as you turned to her like a caught doe, wide eyes shining with fallen tears and hands gripping tightly onto an otherwise almost entirely abandoned blanket.
“Ah um uh- fuck, I’m sorry,” the words spill from your lips in an embarrassing mess of strung together half sentences. She might have thought it cute were it not for the circumstances.
“What happened?” She asks softer than you would have expected. You avoid her gaze, wiping away tears that refused to stop falling and trying to steady your voice. She slips into the tent and you are none the wiser.
“Just uh- just had a bad dream…didn’t mean to-” sound dies in your throat when you feel her presence behind you, her arms wrapping around your shoulders and her weight leaning against your back. The embrace is quiet and soothing, a contrast to your hammering heart and uneven breaths.
“A nightmare?” She questions as she pulls you closer, leaning back against a set of pillows. You follow her embrace, nearly helpless to the pull. She lays a kiss against your cheek just before setting your head in her lap, sighing as she looks down at you, a tired expression in her eyes when you don't respond.
“Hm,” she hums as if remembering something, a gentleness found in her searching hands. They trail where your tears fall, wiping them away before falling to your neck, your shoulders, and then returning to caress your face. Soothing motions, practiced ones. The moment stretches, embarrassment melting away with just how caring her caresses are. Only after you are calm enough to breathe deeply do you speak.
“You move like you’ve done this before,” you comment. The tightness of her brow shows something just behind her eyes.
“I…think I had a friend once, or a lover- I’m not quite sure,” a partial memory manifests in her words. You look up at her, listening intently.
“Whoever they were had nightmares often. I used to hold them like this. And we would talk about something pointless,” she explains, her eyes looking into yours as if to search for something. You turn your head to kiss her palm before burying your face in her leg, a deep contented breath leaving you.
“Like what,” you mutter as you shut your eyes, trying to find peace in her. A soft laugh leaves her, amused by your display. But her hands continue all the same, aimlessly roaming.
“I don’t know. The foods we enjoyed, the types of music we listened to. Stupid things,” she reiterates. You hum, letting a second pass before you speak again.
“Like your favorite flower?” You ask, your eyes turning to find fondness had taken her face at your words. The night continues on in this idle conversation, discussion mostly filled with meaningless words that will soon be forgotten. But they calm you all the same and eventually you fall asleep there, resting against her lap.
Her lack of routine doesn’t change much over the following days, but she makes it a point to check in on you more often. And when she does find that you are once more riddled with nightmares she has no qualms taking her spot amongst the pillows and your head into her lap to once more talk endlessly about nothing. It’s almost as comforting for her as it is for you, as if each of those moments is a returned memory.
Though she hopes the nightmares calm soon, she’s quickly running out of things to talk about.
Astarion
Astarion only ever trances. He simply cannot get comfortable enough to allow sleep and he never really liked it much anyway. His trances are also fairly easy to disturb, which is partially why he only ever does them when everyone else is asleep and he can be left entirely alone. Which is also why he stressed keeping your own tents even when you two began to get closer. He wanted his own space and preferred to spend his nights alone. After all that was a luxury he didn't often get under Cazador. He wanted to enjoy it. And he was…
Until you had to go and ruin it.
He had been trying to rest for hours but hadn’t had any luck. He’d resorted to reading, hoping that it might bore him enough to try again when he heard something just outside his tent. His hand found a blade just before he heard your voice.
“Astarion? Are you still awake?” You whispered so quietly that had he not been alert he likely wouldn’t have heard you. But perhaps that was the goal. Not a moment later does he open the flap to his tent.
The sight that meets his eyes flares something strange in him. You twitch, miss his gaze, shift on your feet like it hurts to even stand there. Your eyes are distant, brows tense with something unsaid. And he swears that for just a moment the moon lights a poorly wiped shine just below your eyes. His original annoyed greeting died in his throat, irritation and bewilderment quickly replaced with something terrifyingly concerned, a fact he tried not to make apparent. Silence stretched on before you clear your throat to speak.
“I um- I…” words fade on your tongue, strength entirely gone.
“Can I stay with you?” The question finally manages to fall, slightly pleading and incredibly embarrassed. He almost laughs, because of course you would ask such a thing of him, of course you would seek another night. Expected, honestly. Predictable.
But then your demeanor muddles the thought, stopping him with its strangeness, leaving him to wonder what exactly you might be asking of him.
“Just for tonight. I don’t want to do anything, I just can’t sleep,” the words tumble out like excuses, trying to justify themselves. You bumble on a little longer before he stops you.
“My dear, are you truly so worried to even ask to stay with me?” He questions, a bit baffled that you would be so cautious in asking for something so many others had already taken from him. One simple night among thousands, hardly the most precious thing he could sacrifice if it meant keeping allies around, he had already spent a few with you. Frankly he was just surprised you hadn't asked sooner, even after he had asked to keep his space.
You pause, nervous ticks alighting across you. There is something you aren’t telling him, though that much is obvious.
“I didn’t want to intrude. This is rather childish of me, to be honest,” you demean yourself before he can, folding your arms as if to shield from his next words.
He considers you for a moment, trying to find the meaning you’re hiding. He wonders if you know he can tell you have been crying, he wonders if this is just some ploy to get something more from him. But more than that he wonders if something might have happened, and if this really was you trying to find some form of rest in this godsforsaken wilderness. If you needed him.
“Well one night of fulfilling your childish whims won’t kill me, darling,” he assures with the distance condescension allows, though the sudden light in your eyes almost makes him second guess the decision, the worry that there was something more to this still eating at him.
“Really? Are you sure?” You ask as if you hadn’t expected the answer. He would have felt hurt if…well actually that did kind of hurt. Yet still he rolls his eyes, inviting you in.
“We can’t have our fearless leader facing the day exhausted, can we?” His tone is mocking but somehow still warm. You don’t dare push his generosity and instead quickly slip into his tent.
It isn’t the most pleasant sight, the sting of something metallic meeting your nose and the sight of a hardly used bedroll laid down as if entirely forgotten. But it is distinctly him, in a way, his perfume mixing in with the smells and glimpses of more personal belongings giving the space a sense of something sacred. Yet still you make it a point to continue avoiding his gaze, especially in the candlelight. He rolls his eyes at how obvious it is, at how you think he hadn’t already noticed how disheveled you are. And then it hurts again.
“The bedroll is yours to steal. I won’t be needing it” he waves his hand as if it’s nothing and returns to the spot where he was reading, now avoiding your gaze as much as you were avoiding his.
You do as told, trying to get comfortable in the shared space. Eventually you settle and the world is quiet again outside the turning of pages and the hum of night. He thinks he can finally return to peace before he notices that sleep still doesn’t catch you. You toss and turn, noticeably quiet, still trying to hide. He tries to ignore it, to let it be your problem. He’s already done more than he needed to.
But something in him can’t. Something too curious, too preoccupied with you to even focus on the words in front of him. Every shift grabs his attention in the most infuriating way. It doesn’t take long before he breaks.
“Any particular reason you’re having such a hard time sleeping?” He inquires aimlessly, not taking his eyes off the page. You don’t answer for a while and for a moment he thinks you might have drifted to sleep. But then you finally speak.
“I had a nightmare,” you admit. The first thoughts that came to his mind are cruel. Really? A dream drove you to him? Gods above, this truly was a childish request! He should laugh!
But then he remembers the shine of tears, the pointed way you avoided him, the shifting way in which you stood. And suddenly it wasn’t all that funny. Suddenly he’s reminded of nights from so long ago, when nightmares were something to be noted rather than a nightly occurrence, when he was still afforded the option to sleep. A single glance at you is like staring into a harrowed old memory. He hates the way it twists his chests, despises the way it silences him.
Quiet stretches on and you can’t help but feel mortified. You can just imagine the look on his face, baffled beyond belief, perhaps even amused by your suffering. So you don’t dare open your eyes. You only cling tighter to his blanket, turning to your side and hoping that sleep eventually claims you. You hear him shuffle, book set aside, and the sound of him moving. Your stomach drops, wondering if it had been such a stupid admission that it drove him out of his own tent.
But then you feel his presence behind you, your eyes finally cracking open to see the way his hand hesitates, holding just above your waist before finally falling. He lays beside you, a careful tug pulling you closer to his chest. You’re tense for a long while, entirely unsure of this moment of careful comfort. But eventually you calm, melting into the silent embrace. It is only then that you can finally rest, not daring to question him as you do.
He almost can’t believe himself, every part of him crying out in violent rejection of the gentle embrace. But he somehow doesn’t care, at least not in this moment. Not when he feels you calm, a deep breath finally bringing you rest. And certainly not when his own eyes grow weary, the warmth of your body held to his, not a single request made in the embrace, is a comfort he hadn’t known in centuries. His own body betrays him with just how deeply he falls into it, how natural it feels. Before he even realizes what’s happening he too falls to a long resisted sleep.
Astarion is horrified come morning. He had let himself sleep. For the first time in only the gods know how long. And worse than that, so much worse than that, it was because of you – because you needed him. He truly can’t believe himself.
He avoids you in the coming days, conflicted, mind muddied with feelings he wasn’t supposed to catch, with care he wasn’t supposed to feel. But as the days stretch on he finds that rest alludes him even more than normal, and worse yet he catches your growing exhaustion with each passing day. This continues until he simply can’t take it anymore, breaking his own rule when he’s the one to seek you out late one night, needing a type of rest you had brought so effortlessly to him. And who are you to deny him when he had done just the same for you? Complications be damned, the both of you just wanted to sleep. It wasn’t either of your faults that it only found you in each other’s arms.
Gale with a partner who refuses to let other people dictate their life and him thinking that they just haven't met a person worth serving yet. Him slowly realizing through them that he doesn't actually have to worship and serve for the hope of being loved but that he can be loved even when he isn't giving a part of himself away.
Shadowheart with a partner who's an open book. Her thinking them naive and helpless, perhaps even unable to control themselves and their loose tongue. Her slowly realizing that hiding away emotions and parts of herself isn't actually all that healthy and that what she mistook for brazen foolishness was actually just them being comfortable with themselves.
Astarion with a partner who is genuinely kind. Him assuming them to be just another fool to swindle that would waste their time on anyone and thus wouldn't make it very far. Him watching their helpful nature get them farther than he would have thought and him being a little bitter about it. Him having to come to terms with the fact that the world of misery he lived in before played by different rules, and now he has the chance to genuinely choose kindness rather than reject it outright.
Karlach with a partner who is stoic and unbelievably calm, an unusually steady force in her whirlwind of a life. Her quick anger and impulsive nature getting her into constant trouble that they sometimes have to pull her out of. Her insane guilt the first time this gets them hurt. Her struggling to stay calm and think ahead when nearly her whole life has been a struggle to stay alive for just one more day.
Lae'zel with a partner who's curious and eager to learn about the world. Her having to grapple with just how little of the world she's actually experienced, and how half of what she does know of it are lies or half truths filtered through propaganda. Her either becoming insanely curious herself to make up for it, asking her partner constant questions and being eager to learn from them, or her shutting down and feeling overwhelmed as her world view completely shatters, causing her to become distant and more abrasive towards her partner as they constantly remind her of her suddenly very obvious lack of knowledge.
Minthara with a partner who doesn't have any large grand ambition or plan for their life and her struggling to understand how anyone could go through life without throwing themselves entirely to some greater cause. Her trying to force ambition onto them for a while, hoping they might find the spark she is so sure they are missing. Her chasing fulfillment, never satisfied with her station, and having to grapple with a partner who is genuinely happy no matter where their life leads.
Halsin with a partner who's grown bitter and angry at the world. Him arguing for the beauty still left in it but secretly fighting himself to not agree after all the darkness he and his lover have lived through. Him struggling to restore hope to them when they were the first to give him any hope in decades. Him not admitting any of this.
Wyll with a partner who is a homebody at heart. Him wanting to go on grand adventures with them and having to understand that they just want peace. They don't want to be in constant danger fighting off evil, but at home with the people they love and a warm bed to sleep in. Him feeling conflicted, his sense of duty to others denying him that peace for a long time. Maybe slowly coming around to the idea, tired and world weary after years or decades of chasing glory and helping all he could. Him finally allowing himself the time to be himself instead of whatever latest moniker was bestowed upon him. Him learning to let go of the guilt and allow himself the peace he tries so desperately to give to others.
Falling in love with their opposite and it forcing them to rethink fundamental parts of themselves.
no, my type is not “bad boys”. my type is emotionally repressed, morally principled, devastatingly loyal men with unresolved trauma and one (1) insanely tender smile.
Gale falling into obsessive, almost worship like tendencies with his partner, sometimes forgetting they are just as human and thus just a fallible as him.
Shadowheart having trouble talking about herself and how she's feeling, keeping unnecessary secrets that sometimes spiral out of control.
Halsin falling back into a leadership mindset, removing his own emotions/wants/needs in favor of the greater good of the group, sometimes to the determent of his own relationships.
Karlach who is so afraid of being alone again that she becomes desperately clingy and protective, to the point of smothering.
Astarion who is so deathly afraid of being trapped and controlled again that he sometimes refuses to listen to his partner just to know that he can.
Lae'zel feeling so vulnerable when around her partner that she overcompensates by performing an even tougher exterior, especially around other people.
Wyll struggling to find peace in the small intimate moments when his hero fantasies and hopeless romanticism push him to make constant grand gestures.
Minthara being so down to the bone loyal that she loses a part of herself with each lost partner.
Broken people trying to love in spite of themselves...
theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
jacobvanloon
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