#halsinxtav

[abigailsins]

"Meet me under the great oak..." ♥

[milkicloudz]

''your arms are the safest armour''

[warlock-enthusiast]

“Don’t worry, I got you.”

Prompt number: 2 Fanfiction Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 Rating: PG Characters: Halsin, Tav (Elisen), HalsinxTav Warnings: non apply

They’d faced nothing but rain for the last week. Day after day, night after night. Everyone became a little grumpy and a little frustrated and tensions rose while their feet were wet. Camping outside seemed their only choice and all tents were soggy and started to smell weird. Even Scratch and his new best friend appeared a little less enthusiastic and cowered close to the fire for most of the time. 

Only a few days until they would reach the city and no one seemed to truly enjoy the thought. Maybe Karlach, but within her happiness lingered something dark and memories of the past. She and Astarion could readily agree on how Baldur’s Gate offered them dreams and haunted them at the same time. To be honest, she was quite happy to not be at the camp at this moment, able to stare into a river and not ponder about the woes of everyone.

Elisen put one bucket to the side and reached for the second one.

Elisen sighed and filled buckets with water. Gale needed it for the stew and she saw it as a way to escape the gloomy camp for a few minutes. Lately she barely had time to follow her oath and work for what the ancients demanded of her. The nature around seemed dull and lifeless as if being sucked dry.

Her connection to the Feywild was also disturbed by the thing stuck in her head and she despised how cut off it felt. How she did not feel the presence of her Lord Oberon.

Her right leg buckled and so did the left. She tried to keep balance with moving her arms and certainly looked very stupid. Elisen already saw herself landing ass first in the mud as a pair of strong arms pulled her away from the sudden disgrace.

Suddenly the ground gave away.

Deep in her own misery, she had not looked at her surroundings and missed a patch of slippery earth.

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Halsin didn’t let go. Instead his hug was strong enough to completely press her against his chest. 

She felt his heartbeat, smelled his skin. A scent of the wild, cedar, the earth, elderberry.

“Thanks.” Compared to her clammy self he offered warmth and stability. Part of her wanted to sink into his arms and not worry about anything anymore. They’d flirted, danced around the subject of a romance and everytime Halsin talked about duty and the right time. Elisen was not sure that it’d ever come. Even now, with them being so close, he did not go a step further. Always upholding this strange, invisible barrier instead of finding her lips.

A blush crept on her cheeks and she kept her head close to his chest. Halsin did not move and neither did she. 

“Can we stay like this for a little while?”

“Did you follow me?” Elisen’s voice sounded muffled and was swallowed by his armor.

“We shouldn’t venture out alone. Who knows what these woods hide. So the answer is: yes.” The movements of his chest seemed almost soothing. By the Gods, she wanted to never let go. Unspoken emotions bubbled in her throat and her tongue felt too heavy to communicate any of them. Where to start? She’d never encountered someone like him and the weight of her feelings made it hard to breathe at times. 

Halsin swallowed and his big hand touched the small of her back. “Yes.”

[milkicloudz]

lili bg3 wip

[i-mushi]

Fun Halsin/Tav Idea because I finally got Baldur's Gate 3 and it's totally subsumed me. Also, I just got to Act III, so please don't spoil anything:

- The dopplegangers at the circus are dead, the dryad has just tested Halsin and Tav’s love, and they passed. Her palms are still sweaty.

- Halsin goes off to negotiate with a kobold for potions with Wyll, and Gale is trying to sweet talk the necromancer into letting him read some of their books. So Tav goes to look at the statues over in the corner.

- A few things happen before she can fully control the situation: the offering to make a statue of herself or one of the “brave heroes” is made and there’s a discount. Tav heard 25 gold. The merchant said 2500.

- A statue definitely felt tacky to make of herself or one of her companions, but the merchant was being particularly pushy about it, and Halsin really had won this fight. In his bear form he alone took down the evil Dribbles the Clown and another doppelgänger before they could kill any of the onlookers, while Wyll and Tav were busy with the beasts and Gale was ushering people away.

- “I will make this for you!” The female fiend—beast? Demon? Tav had never seen its like—declared, and the image that popped into Tav’s head at the mention of a statue of Halsin was not a statue of him vanquishing enemies. More like him standing in that copse of trees a few nights ago, bare in the moonlight and staring at her nakedness with fiery longing.

- Tav blames that distraction on missing the sensation of the Detect Thoughts spell until it’s too late.

- She tries to explain a better option for the statue, with armor and birds (ducks ideally), and Halsin looking proud and wise and gentle. The artisan clearly didn’t listen to her.

- She tells no one in the camp of her absolutely abysmal merchant experience and suggests moving into the city as soon as possible. Tav imagines she can jsut stuff the statue into her bag and throw it into the river at the next possible change. Assuming it doesn't take months to make, which a proper hand-carved one would.

- It showed up later that evening:

- A life-sized, 6ft+ Halsin made of stone. Naked. Slightly erect. Not a duck or stitch of clothing in sight. Dead center of the camp.

- Yenna is the one that notices it and calmly asks why a stone Halsin is naked, as everyone is gathered around the fire. Withers can be heard chuckling like the sound of dry grass rubbing together behind them.

- When they all troop over to what she’s pointed at, Halsin is, for the first time they’ve ever seen him, genuinely at a loss for words. His cheeks darken, and Tav suddenly feels absolutely awful. She embarrassed her love in front of their whole group, and this is entirely her fault.

- “Well, someone really likes you, huh, Halsin?” Karachi jokes, and saunters off to finish her food. Shadowheart just shakes her head.

- “You may want to watch your back, Tav, as you have competition,” Jaheira jokes. No one makes an off color remark to Halsin about it or comments on his considerable size, though Tav suspects the expression on Gale’s face is slightly envious. Astarion snorts and says, “Cazador has a hundred like this. All better made too.”

- Halsin eventually manages a sound. “I—” he clears his throat when it’s just the two of them. “I cannot fathom how this—”

- “It’s my fault,” Tav blurts out, and then the whole story sounds so much worse as she quietly explains.

- “By the Oak Father, I have never seen someone so had by a merchant. I would joke the best of them would trick you into selling your very socks, but it seems this one did not care for… socks.” The statue looms over Tav the rest of the dinner.

- The sex that night is incredible though. Halsin makes a number of remarks about going back to the artisan to “correct” the half-erect cock, so he can put Tav on it while he fucks her other hole. Gale ends up casting a silencing spell on their tent so everyone else can get some sleep. Tav leaves the tent the next morning with a bow-legged stride to see Karlach inspecting the stone cock then commenting loudly that, “it sounds like the sculptor got it right!”

- They plan to leave the statue hidden under vines when they break camp that morning. Halsin casts the spell and everything. Except when they set up the next camp it appears.

- Karlach tries to move it. Not only is it stone, but it’s magical. It does not move.

- Lae’zel and Gale put together a rig to move it. Nothing. Halsin magnanimously offers to destroy it, but Call Lightning does nothing. Shatter does nothing. It is as impenetrable as stone. Vollo takes a chisel and hammer to it and might as well have been trying to chisel infernal steel.

- It becomes as much a part of their camp as the campfire itself. So much so that every time someone new joins up and awkwardly glances between it and Halsin, Halsin just shrugs. “It is not by my doing that it stands there,” is all he says.

- He never tells anyone Tav was the one who ordered it.

- Someone hangs a vine wreath off the cock. Tav suspects Dame Aylin. No one fesses up.

- Astarion, however, loves to tell everyone more and more outrageous stories about the statue. His favorite is that it is, in fact, a petrified version of Halsin, and the one they see here is a construct, or illusion, or a doppleganger. Or it’s a manifestation of the druid’s celibacy vow. Or, in fact, Halsin refuses to travel without the visual manifestation of his best features.

- Tav quietly saves up the money in a side pouch for the day they are all free from the tadpoles, and she can commission a nude statue of Astarion to haunt him.

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Smutty City Thots

This is based off of this comment

Thank you for getting my brain to work @clairetheflower

Be warned, fluffy spicy chatter ahead.

Halsin lay in bed at the end of the day, hair let down, next to you. He was still adjusting to the feeling of being in an actual bed with the wind wafting gently through gossamer curtains by the window. You had meandered about the room, preparing to sleep, when a thought had seized you; you sat with your legs folded beneath , brushing your hair.

“Something just occurred to me,” you began, distracted. “Most of our time together has been spent with me saving you.”

Halsin looked away from the setting sun to you, “Mm, is that how you see it.”

“Well, yeah. First, there were the goblins in the worg pen, then we met and you asked me to wipe out the three goblin leaders, which lead to the whole camp coming to an untimely end. I also saved your grove from shadow druids, then I helped save your cursed ‘kingdom’. If I didn’t know any better, this would sound a lot like an old nursery tale.” You paused, and looked mildly incredulous, “I might have seen you as the damsel in distress.”

A quiet chuckle, “If you didn’t know better, that is.” He sat up a bit straighter with a smirk.  The thin sheet tumbled further off of his chest, landing around his almost bare hips. “And what would that make you?”

“Your hero, obviously.” You caressed a strand away from his face. 

He pulled you closer by your lapel, making you sit up on your knees, “I can think of one thing that’s distressing me, at the moment,” his finger slid beneath your nightgown and grazed your inner thighs. 

Your hand shot to a place under his chin and seized the opportunity for a distraction; a well aimed tickle and suddenly, he was on the defensive. He recoiled back with a choked laugh. You jumped back up off the bed, avoiding his grasp, and walked to the only table in the room, laying your brush down.

“You know, according to the fairytales, the hero usually gets some kind of…” you waved your hand in the air, feigning to forget the necessary word. “Some kind of boon,” you began pacing to the window and drawing the shutters. You turned around to him, pretending to still be lost in thought, “Something to make the hero feel appreciated,” lowering the straps to your garment below your shoulders, “some kind of compensation,” you stood at the foot of the bed as the garment slid down off of you, “if you will.”

His chin lowered slightly as his eyes darkened, taking in the sight. He reached his hands up behind his head, stretching his arms so wide they almost matched the length of the headboard. “Ah, my savior expects payment of some kind. Unfortunately, I don’t believe l have much to give. I’m but a poor damsel, after all.” His thigh swept open beneath the thin sheet.

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” you began to crawl across the bed toward him,  “I believe you’ve got plenty.”

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

A Peaceful Elf

Part XXV

The Fight at Last Light

When the winged Flaming Fist landed behind the Selunite cleric, menacing and threatening to take the one protection Last Light Inn and it’s refugees had, you started to wonder if your good luck had run out.

Not just because Marcus had arrived to steal Isobel; no, that would be too simple. A horde of fiendish enemies began swarming the building like red locusts, as well. As you calculated the odds, you heard more land on the roof and right behind the traitor. If they took Isobel to Moonrise, as Marcus mentioned he would, every single one of those Flaming Fist warriors, Harpers, and the refugees that you’d been helping since the grove—they wouldn’t stand a chance against the curse.

Mol and her little crew. Dammon. The one lead you had to defeat the curse…

That familiar hot surge of blood coursed through you as nearby details came into pristine focus. You felt every hair on the nape of your neck stand on end like the heckles on a rabid dog.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

Okay but they’re all just walking when Tav asks if its true elves can’t grow any kind of facial hair, and if it’s true for the druid considering Halsin already beats so many of the elven stereotypes.

Halsin says the only way he can grow fur on his face is in ursine form.

Tav thinks, looking at his lips and chin, and says, “that’s almost a shame, I think you’d wear a beard quite well. Luckily, your face is doing pretty well as it is.”

And Tav’s just like

And Halsin’s just like