DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO

i am quite invested in this lmao

Funny how the leftists who brag about reading theory and have enormous superiority complexes are constantly demonstrating they don’t have any functional knowledge about civics in the US

You don’t have to like Kamala Harris, but by saying “if she really cared about Palestine she would’ve started an arms embargo or demanded a ceasefire by now” you’re blatantly advertising how completely uneducated and uninformed you are. You’re at the same level as the dumb redneck conservatives you love to complain about.

If you’re under the impression the vice president has control of the military, can pass legislation, can sign things into law, can bypass the Presidents’ actions etc etc, you sincerely need to go back to Schoolhouse Rock instead of spending your time embarrassing yourself online for moral superiority points.

Additionally, it would be nice for non-Palestinian “allies” to stop using the genocide of Palestinians as a gotcha buzzword to shut down any type of conversation about the realities of the choices for president. Stop leveraging other people’s suffering and deaths to feel good about your political stances.

Break of Dawn: Chapter 1 (Astarion x Tiefling! Tav)

A/N: Ahhhh okay first ever fic posted here. Yes, it's 5k words. I only somewhat promise future chapters won't be so long, but idk we'll see. This is a fic idea I've had bouncing around for awhile and I've finally gotten around to writing it! My inbox is always open for feedback, especially if you notice any weird formatting errors since I'm not super familiar with tumblr's layout yet. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of my special little baby :)

Summary: Tav, a cleric of Lathander, finds herself as the unfortunate recipient of a mindflayer tadpole with limited time to cure herself. She finds help in a group of fellow infected and mildly insane individuals, including a vampire who takes every opportunity to drive her up the wall. A vampire she's totally not falling in love with. Between cults, the literal gods of death, and the looming threat of turning into a mindflayer, Tav has to navigate both the end of the world and her increasingly complicated feelings for a creature she's pretty sure she's sworn to kill.

What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: None in this chapter I don't think? But expect a lot of smut, trauma, and canon-typical violence down the line.

Dividers from @saradika

It was the headache that woke her. The pounding, throbbing pain in the front of her skull that threatened to seep into her veins and drain her strength. Tav shook her head, attempting to clear the dull ache, but only succeeded in making herself exceptionally dizzy. She was upright, that much she could tell, but it didn’t feel like she was propped against a wall or a bedpost. The surface against her back felt oddly…wet? Fleshy, almost. Tav could feel her horns scraping into something unsettlingly soft. Gods above, she hoped she wasn’t in a bathroom. That would be a new low for her, waking up in some muggy stall with who-knows-what seeping into her clothes. Every twitch of her fingers and toes brought a new wave of subtle nausea into her bones. 

Where was she?

The last thing Tav remembered was the ratty pub in Daggerford, stuffed elbow-to-elbow with farmers so drunk they couldn’t even bring themselves to care about the strange tiefling in their midst nursing a bottle of the sourest wine this side of the Dalelands. The clerics at the Morninglow Tower, the only Lathandarian monastery in the area and her main reason for stopping in Daggerford in the first place, had assured her that the Happy Cow was the best inn the city had to offer, but if her frazzled mind could remember anything, it was the swill in her glass and the grouchy halfling behind the bar.  

Why was she in Daggerford again?

The more Tav sat, trying to remember and simultaneously suppress the urge to vomit, the more the details came back to her. A summons to Baldur’s Gate, one that had been dispatched to the Dawnmaster of her monastery from a group of Selunites just outside of Rivington. Something about an increase in activity from a suspected group of Sharrans nestled within the Gate, a fear that the fanatics of the Nightsinger were planning something. A cry for help to any nearby allies of the Moonmaiden, a cry that reached as far north as Waterdeep, just for insurance in the event of an open conflict. Her Dawnmaster had selected her and only her to make the long journey south. Handpicked amongst hundreds to go alone to the Gate with little explanation why. A test of faith, she was told, despite her record of loyalty to Lathander. It was that loyalty that drove her to leave the safety of the Spires and go anyways, that made her push past the doubt, with little more than a traveler’s pack and questions about what exactly she was getting into.

Tav’s eyes were blurry when she opened them and she barely got a moment to assess the thick glass panel in front of her before it lifted away suddenly. She had a heartbeat to throw her arms out to catch her fall, though it did little to stop the shock and pain arching from her head down to the tip of her tail. She laid there on the ground, in a heap, trying to catch her breath, and was able to string enough of a thought together to realize it was probably the least dignified position she had ever been in.

Morninglord, help her.

Tav pushed herself onto her elbows and gave her surroundings a gander. The room was large and domed, with arcing metal ribs supporting the ceiling. Or what was left of it. Because, as she quickly realized from both the heat and her clearing vision, the room was positively ablaze. A shudder ran down her spine as she attempted to make out details past the gray smoke. Her scars prickled, and she had to double check to make sure she wasn’t on fire.

More memories. The thick air in the tavern, sweaty arms and faces and hands intruding into her personal space. The foul wine in her throat. The need to fill her lungs with something that wasn’t flavored with dwarf musk. Cool night air against her skin when she’d stumbled out of the pub, pulling her robes against her body, the breeze filling her chest. Flashes of suspicious looks from the locals on the streets, like she was a proper devil and not just a tiefling. Another breath in her lungs, soothing the burn that the tavern air had left on her throat.

Then there was screaming.

Quick, high-pitched. A moment to spin and try and assess the situation. Something black, blacker than the night sky, against the horizon, moving towards the city. A writhe of tentacles against the stars, a prayer to Lathander to lend her strength for what was to come, and then…nothing. She remembered heat against her skin, light against her eyes, and now she was laying in a burning room with the biggest headache of her life.       

Had her drink been spiked?

No, because now she remembers the mindflayers. Great ugly beasts looming outside the pod she’d just faceplanted out of. A bit of green skin a few pods down from hers, something small and pulsating in one of the illithid’s taloned hands. Then, the mindflayer rounding on her, holding up a wriggling worm with a circular mouth and too many teeth. She remembers the terror and the pain as the larva was held up to her eye. The ache as it found its target and slithered its way into her skull.

She took her studies at the monastery seriously. Lathander valued a sharp mind, and while he mostly called his followers to hunt undead monstrosities, she made it a point to familiarize herself with all manner of beasts and devils. Mindflayers were a rare threat, mostly occupying themselves with the Outer Planes in their eternal grapple against the gith, but they were important enough for the temple library to have a whole section dedicated to illithid and their ilk. She knew what had happened—what the squirming tadpole pushing into her brain meant about her current condition—and she knew her days were now decidedly numbered.

There was a pulse inside her head, a wriggle behind her eye, and Tav wished it had just been vampires instead. At least then the silver dust in her pocket and the holy water against her hip would have done her some good. With a groan, she rose to her feet, careful to keep her tail above the hot metal floor, and stumbled past the burning remains of the room around her, unhooking her mace from her back as she did. She noticed a few splayed mindflayer corpses, tentacles like wet pipes against her ankles as she slipped past, and wondered again what had caused the destruction. Tav was almost certain she was either in one of their colonies or on a ship, and the thought occurred to her that it was entirely likely she had been sucked into the middle of the war between the illithids and the gith. It was simply a question of which subset of the gith population she would potentially have to deal with in an escape. Githzerai were dangerous but reasonable and could maybe be swayed to help if Tav proved she was no threat. The githyanki were a different story, and she hoped she wasn’t bearing witness to one of their raiding parties, but she got the sneaking suspicion that her luck was poor on that front. Their red dragons would certainly explain the fire.

The next room was in less disarray, the flames having smoldered out to leave ash in their wake, and Tav noticed a large tear in the far wall, framed by daylight streaming in from the outside. Her heart leapt at her sign of freedom, but an uneasy shiver went through her at the sight of the tables lining the walls, topped by corpses. She gritted her teeth and sent a silent prayer to the less fortunate of the mindflayers’ abductees, followed by a reassurance to herself that she would not be joining them. On her way towards the makeshift exit, she bent and rummaged through the robes of a fallen mindflayer, gathering the assorted coins and gemstones she found, and hoped the souls of the victims appreciated her pettiness towards their killers.

As she straightened up to continue forward, the sound of something skittering, not unlike a rat inside a wall, drew her attention. Tav watched as a trio of creatures resembling brains on four legs pushed past a fallen piece of metal and scurried back the way she had come. She recognized them as intellect devourers, aberrations that served in the collective illithid hivemind. Her eyes followed the creatures as they left and couldn’t decide if she was more surprised or grateful that they hadn’t noticed her. Tav simply shook her head, deciding it didn’t matter, and made her way towards the exit.

The hope that had sprung in her heart at the chance of escape was squashed, however, when Tav managed to push through the wreckage and make her way to the gap in the ship’s hull. It became clear that, although there was heat radiating into the room from the opening, it did not come from a familiar sun. Instead, Tav saw only a scarlet horizon, the ground rushing past far below, and swarms of winged imps and devils thrashing in the air. There was a tingle down her spine, like her infernal heritage recognized the bloody skies of the Hells, and Tav cursed her increasingly sour luck. Of all the places she could have wound up, Baator would not have been high on her list. What she had done to get so far off track from her mission, Lathander only knew.

Tav was starting to wonder how she was ever going to escape the Hells and a burning illithid ship—because it had to be a ship, given how far she was off the ground and the speed at which they were moving—when she watched as, from underneath the vessel, a flash of crimson cut against the sky. A red dragon, flames billowing from its gaping jaws, curved against the shape of the aircraft, directed by the speck of a gith rider against its back. In her shock, she nearly dropped her mace—not helped by her sweaty palms—and Tav held her empty hand up to block the burn of the fire when the beast let loose a column of flame to beat back a horde of devils swarming the ship. She knew for a fact now that this had to be a githyanki raiding party, tracking an illithid vessel across the planes atop the backs of their red dragons. Tav was just unlucky enough to be caught in the middle with an unwelcome stowaway tagging along for the ride.

Before Tav could come up with a plan to escape the current predicament, an arc of silver crested over her head as a figure leapt from above, and she suddenly found herself face to face with a gith woman, dark hair and green skin made even more sharp against the red sky, covered in ash from head to toe. And while Tav only knew of the githyanki from her studies, she did not need books to identify the rage in the woman’s eyes and the greatsword the gith was pointing at her throat.

“Abomination,” the woman growled, leveling her blade until the tip was grazing the dip between Tav’s collarbones. “This is your end!"

Tav was just raising her hands to explain as fast as she could that she posed the warrior no threat when a sudden discomfort split her skull, almost like it was emanating outwards from the tadpole lodged in her brain. Tav did not recall closing her eyes, but it was like she was now in a dream, or recalling some distant memory that was not her own, as she watched the scales of a red dragon undulate over solid muscle, the glint of sunlight off a silver sword. Her ears were filled with the sound of clanging steel, her shoulders dipped beneath the weight of heavy armor. As quick as they came, the visions dissipated, and Tav blinked away the fogginess to see the gith woman clutching her skull, and Tav realized with a jolt that she had just taken a peek inside the woman’s mind, witnessed her memories, which likely meant the connection had been two way. The soldier drew her brows as she shook her head against an apparent pain, before looking up and meeting Tav’s gaze again.

“What…what is this?” she hissed, more to herself than to Tav. A dozen emotions crossed the gith’s face—confusion, discomfort, anger—before settling on what Tav hoped was happiness. “You are no thrall,” the warrior said. Tav watched as, thankfully, the woman lowered her blade and sheathed it against her back. “Vlaakith blesses me this day!”

Tav kept her hands raised, ready to channel Lathander’s dawn if needed, but took a cautious step towards the gith as she said, “A thrall? Like a mindflayer’s servant?”

One of the gith’s eyebrows raised, clearly surprised Tav was at least familiar with illithid.

“The very same. We are fortunate we retain our senses.”

“But I’m infected,” Tav said, and she suddenly remembered the look she’d gotten from inside her pod. Green skin a few spaces down and a flash of dark hair. She realized it must’ve been the woman before her that had been imprisoned, as well. Tav drew her brows together. “And so are you, aren’t you? Given that look I just got inside your head.”

The gith scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She started to turn like she intended to walk away.

“Yes, we both carry ghaik tadpoles. But for now, we have our wits, and I intend to keep them.” She glanced over, eyes trailing up and down Tav’s figure, before continuing. “You are a cleric, yes? An experienced one, from what your memories told me. You may have your uses. Come, we must make haste to the helm.”

The gith did not wait for a reply as she began to walk away. Tav stood, slightly dumbfounded, and watched the gith make confident strides down the wrecked platform they stood on.

“Wait!” she called when her brain finally caught up with what was going on. The gith stopped and turned, irritation spiking her gaze when she saw that Tav had not moved. “That’s it, then? We just team up and move on like we weren't in each other's minds?"

The warrior huffed, saying something in her language under her breath.

“What just happened to us will not matter if we die on this ship. I intend to escape and make my way back to my people. Your best hope of survival is to follow me. Unless your god commands you to burn to a crisp here?”

Deep in the Hells, Tav’s connection to Lathander was flimsy, but she could hazard a guess that he did not, in fact, want her to die here. And for as much as she would love to not owe her life to a bloodthirsty githyanki, Tav had enough common sense to know her options were slim at best. So, with a huff, she tightened her grip on her mace and followed the gith.

“I’m Tav, by the way,” she called up to the woman. She received no response. Tav sighed. “Nice to meet you, too.”

The next room crawled with around half a dozen invading imps, the tiny beasts gnawing at the corpses of both illithid and the poor souls that had been abducted, but their attention was quickly drawn when Tav and the gith made their way in. Tav had barely blinked before the warrior had notched an arrow into her longbow and sent it flying into the neck of one of the imps, and Tav managed to eliminate another with a burst of holy flame from the tips of her fingers. The remaining imps screeched and began to flap towards them, but failed to do any damage before the two of them brought them down with a mix of arrows, steel, and magic.

“You are quite adequate in battle,” the gith remarked as she pulled her arrows from the twisted corpses. “Perhaps our odds are not so poor.”

Tav bent to collect a crossbow from one of the imps, figuring a ranged weapon would come in handy, and replied, “You aren’t too bad yourself.” What was meant to be a compliment was clearly received differently when the gith’s expression somehow got sourer, her eyes squinting in a harsh glare.

“I am githyanki. If you think I cannot handle imps, then you are more uneducated than I thought.”

Tav opened and closed her mouth, attempting to stutter out that she had meant no offence, but the gith had already moved on to the next room. With a sigh, Tav followed, wishing more than ever it had just been vampires instead.

By the time Tav caught up to the soldier, the woman had nearly spanned the entire length of the room, which Tav noticed was empty save from a ring of what looked to be stretchers in the center, each holding an unresponsive body, and a pod against the far wall. Upon closer inspection, Tav’s heart dropped when she realized there was someone inside. She jogged up to the prisoner and saw the vague features of a woman inside banging against the glass. 

“Hey!” the woman yelled, fingers clawing at the walls of her prison. “Hey, get me out of here!"

“Don’t worry,” Tav replied as she began to look over the pod for any sort of latch that might open it, “I’m not leaving you behind.” She turned to look at the gith, who was already at the far end of the room. “Help me out here!” she called.             

The gith turned, her eyes narrowing when she saw what Tav was doing.

“I do not intend to stop for every prisoner we come across. We must reach the helm if we hope to escape.” Tav scowled.

“The more help, the better,” she responded. “I’m not abandoning anyone.”

The gith scoffed and said something in a language Tav did not know and walked back over to where she was now pouring over the panel next to the pod.  

“Do you truly mean to die for a stranger?” the gith growled. Tav ran her hands over the console, picking at the depths of her memories to recall any illithid sigils she might know.

“Nobody is dying today,” Tav said. With a huff, she resigned herself to the fact that she was a poor student of illithid script and had no clue what any of the symbols meant. She thought about asking the gith, but already knew the soldier would likely be no help. Tav felt the humming of magic around the console, and she winced when the tadpole in her brain seemed to squirm in response. That caused a thought to pop into her head, and she focused her mental energy on the worm. If anything could help her understand the mindflayers’ language, it was one of their young.

It was like grabbing a fish in a river the way the tadpole slipped about her mind’s grasp, but at last she got a hold on the parasite and forced it to yield. With what felt like a click inside her mind, the tadpole obeyed, and the console in front of her roared to life. Tav’s next thought was how she was supposed to use the panel to open the pod, but it was like the mere idea itself made the console obey, and the pod suddenly snapped open. Tav had just enough time to step in front and catch the woman inside before she had a similar landing against the floor like Tav experienced earlier.   

The pair stumbled, but Tav helped the woman right herself. She was taller, with dark hair braided down her back and deep green eyes framed by a scar across the bridge of her nose beneath a blunt fringe. Tav noticed the tips of pointed ears poking from her hair, but the woman did not have the typical angular features of a full elf, meaning she must only be half elven. Her silver armor was covered in soot, but it was clear that beneath the dirt her plate was well cared for.

Tav lifted her arms and let the woman step back. The half-elf shook her head, black hair swinging about her face as she raised a hand to her forehead.

“Thank you,” she said. “I thought that damned thing was going to be my coffin."

Tav only had time for a nod before a now-familiar pain burst behind Tav’s eyes, and once again she found herself in someone else’s brain. Unlike the gith, the half-elf’s memories were like murky water, swirling around inside her mind without any clear features. The only thing Tav picked up on with clarity was a spark of suspicion—aimed at the gith standing beside her. Just as quick as their minds linked, the connection snapped.

The half-elf drew her brows together, confusion marring her features.

“It’s the tadpole,” Tav said before the woman could voice her obvious question. “You’re infected with one, same as we are.” She gestured to the gith, who did not even look remotely happy at the turn of events. “They let our minds connect.”           

“Yes, that much is obvious,” the half-elf replied. Her gaze turned to the gith, and her expression pinched to match the anger on the warrior’s face. “I was not aware Lathander’s clerics kept such strange company."

Tav’s immediate question—how did the woman know she worshipped the Morninglord? —was squashed before she embarrassed herself. The woman had just been inside her head and Tav’s faith was the most important thing she kept in there. Obviously a peek in her skull would show that. Instead, Tav shrugged.

“Strange times require strange company. Besides, we’ll have to fight our way off this ship and an extra sword is always good.” The half-elf raised an eyebrow, but her shoulders relaxed slightly.

“I suppose you have a point there.” She turned to look at Tav. “I’m Shadowheart. And you are?"

Tav grinned at the novelty of knowing at least one of her companion’s names.

“Tav. It’s a pleasure.”

The gith suddenly scoffed.

“Are we done with pleasantries? The longer we dawdle the slimmer our chances of escape become.” She didn’t wait for an answer before she made her way back towards the exit.

Shadowheart glared at the gith’s back but said, “She’s right. Lead the way.”

They began to follow where the gith had gone, but Shadowheart suddenly stopped at gripped at her sides like she was feeling for something. She turned back, and Tav watched as she rummaged about inside her pod before pulling something small out and tucking it into one of her pockets, but it was too dark for her to get a good look.

“Everything okay?” Tav asked. Shadowheart laughed dryly.

“I’m trapped on a mindflayer ship with a parasite in my head surrounded by devils and burning wreckage.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and began walking towards the exit the gith had already pushed through. “I’m having the time of my life."

Tav couldn’t help but chuckle and followed close behind.     

The two found the gith standing in front of a closed door, the fleshy material that seemed to line the whole ship pulled into a pinwheel. The soldier turned when they entered and rested a hand on her sword.                

“The helm should be beyond this door. Once inside, do as I say.” 

Shadowheart’s expression darkened. “Who put you in charge?” she snapped. The gith looked like she was about to bite back, so Tav stepped between the two and held out her hands.   

“Now is not the time for arguing. What’s important is that we make it off this ship.” She turned to Shadowheart. “I don’t like it, either, but githyanki are experts on mindflayers. If she says this is how we get out, it’s in our best interests to cooperate.”

“For an istik,” the gith said through a self-satisfied smile, “you are surprisingly competent.”

Tav blinked. “Thank you?”

Shadowheart huffed and shoved past them both. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Tav had hoped that the only thing that stood between them and freedom would be another swarm of imps, but as they entered the helm of the ship, she was instead immediately reminded that they were still in an active warzone. Mindflayers and devils clashed, tentacles and wings thrashing as each side tried to gain an advantage over the other. Imps and hellboars batted hoards of intellect devourers back, all while the flames licking against the walls climbed higher and higher.

Tav watched as one of the mindflayers wrapped its tentacles around the head of a cambion soldier, and blood sprayed when the illithid dug its teeth into the devil. The creature let the fiend drop and suddenly turned to face them. From the corner of her eye, she watched Shadowheart and the gith ready their weapons, but all three flinched when their tadpoles wriggled about as a voice not belonging to any of them ripped into their heads.     

“Thralls,” the voice boomed, sounding like it came from everywhere around them, “connect the transponders. Take control of the ship.”

Tav watched the mindflayer raise one long-fingered hand and pointed to the front of the room, where a tangled mass of blue tentacles squirmed over a console similar to the one that had opened Shadowheart’s pod. With a jolt, she realized it was the illithid speaking to them, giving orders through the tadpole.   

The gith grunted and raised her sword. “Do as it says. While it thinks we are under its control, we have a chance at escape.”

“It won’t be easy getting to that console,” Shadowheart said. “We’ll need to be—"

She was cut off suddenly as the gith surged forward, sword arcing downwards through a pair of imps that had swarmed an intellect devourer. They watched as the soldier pushed through the fiends before her, grappling with devils like it was nothing.

“—careful,” Shadowheart finished. She turned and looked at Tav, giving a slight shrug as she said, “Guess we follow her, then?”

Tav mirrored her shrug, and they followed the gith into the fray.       

It was tough work pushing to the back of the room. For every imp or cambion that fell from a burst of holy radiance, another devil entered her vision with a raised sword. If it hadn’t been for well-timed arrows from the gith or Shadowheart’s own divine fire, Tav was certain her fortunes would’ve gone sour. In the back of her mind, she made a note to ask who Shadowheart’s patron was. Tav recognized the work of another cleric but couldn’t put her finger on the origin of her magic. It wasn’t the holy fervor her own Lathanderian magic possessed, and wasn’t familiar like the magic of Selunites she’d met in the past, but she figured, so long as it was keeping devils off her back, whichever god was fueling Shadowheart’s spells had Tav’s thanks.

Tav didn’t know how long they had been fending off Avernus’s forces before she looked up and saw an opening. The gith had felled a cambion that had been blocking the way to the helm, but her attention had been diverted by a pair of hellboars. Tav took her chance and broke into a sprint, narrowly dodging the body of a mindflayer that was thrown her way by a cambion before Shadowheart brought it down with a bolt of sickly green necrotic magic. Tav only had a moment to ponder over that—perhaps she was a cleric of Kelemvor? —as she slid to a halt in front of the console.

She let the tadpole guide her hands, following its instincts on which tentacles to grab, but a sudden blast of heat above her drew her attention away. Tav looked up to find the gaze of a great red dragon, its head having pushed past a gap in the ship’s roof. Distantly, she heard the gith yell something, but Tav couldn’t make out the words as she ducked to avoid another column of fire. Her scars prickled against the flames, and she had to push down the hint of panic and rely on her infernal heritage to keep her skin safe from the fire.

The ship suddenly tilted, and Tav’s feet fell from under her as her balance shifted with the new angle. She watched the dragon retreat and forced herself back up, but only had a moment to right herself when another great shudder passed through the ship. As fast as she could, Tav brought together two spindly tentacles. The parasite squirmed about her brain, and she watched through the windows as Avernus’s skyline blurred. She blinked, and where the hellfire had once been there were now stars. She realized they had to be back in the Material Plane, but still very high above ground.

“Again!” she heard the gith yell.

Tav looked over her shoulder to see the soldier now grappling with the mindflayer that had given them orders earlier. Shadowheart was closer to the middle of the room standing off against a trio of imps and a cambion. She met the gith’s eyes and the warrior yelled something about taking control of the ship, but the words were lost in the roil of combat. Tav didn’t need the details, though: she knew they were in a losing fight and were running out of time. So, with a prayer to Lathander she hoped he could hear, she grasped the tentacles again and brought them back together.  

The vessel shuddered again, and Tav lost her grip as the whole ship seemed to invert on itself. Her feet scrambled for purchase but did little good, and she could do nothing but gasp when the room went sideways. In a heartbeat she was suddenly against the far wall, then falling forwards again. She watched the metal siding of the ship splinter and tumble away and she knew that while they may no longer be crashing in the Hells, they were still crashing regardless.

Another yank of gravity and Tav was scrambling for purchase against the floor. She slid back the way she’d come, towards the nose of the ship, and she caught a glimpse of Shadowheart falling through a new hole in the side of the craft. Tav didn’t even have the energy to call out. She could only hope Shadowheart’s god was kind enough to spare her from the fall.

The ship tilted, and Tav realized with a lurch that she was now sliding towards the same gap that Shadowheart had just been flung out of. She only had a moment to grasp the jagged wall to avoid a similar tumble. The wind lashed against her cheeks, sending her hair flying about her face, and it was through the strands that she met the gaze of a mindflayer, slumped against the opposite side of the gash and holding its side. Its eyes were cold and unblinking, and Tav got the distinct sensation of something prodding against the back of her head, but the feeling broke when a piece of debris suddenly hit the side of her skull. It was so abrupt that Tav had no time to regain her slack grip, and before she knew it she felt the wind now pummeling her from all angles.

It took an embarrassing amount of time for her to realize that she was falling. With how her luck had been, Tav wasn’t even surprised. She could only hope that, when she inevitably met the ground, Lathander would spare her a bit of good fortune and keep her from breaking her neck.

Her last thought before things went white was that she really, really just wished it had been vampires instead.

lavellan: “so the fade huh. thats cool”

solas: “are you attempting to…….,,.know me”

lavellan: “yeah kinda is there something wrong with that”

solas: “…”

solas: “i see you are a mage”

lavellan: “uh huh”

solas: “have you ever been dominated in the bedroom”

“You should be at the club.” No, I should be at the scholastic book fair.

Some 2023 illustrations. I was trying to make a collection 👀

Large Family 🕸️

Mother, the one and only 💜

Safest place on Earth 🐊

Over my dead body 🔥

Break of Dawn, Chapter 2 (Astarion x Tiefling! Tav)

A/N: Okay second chapter and Astarion finally shows up lol. Featuring Tav's spidey sense immediately clocking something is Weird about this random elf and Shadowheart being really good at making friends. Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated!

Warnings: None except for Shadowheart's snark. Expect smut and violence in later chapters.

WC: 5k

Thankfully, while she did wake up with a headache again, it wasn’t nearly as severe as the one that had roused her early. Tav groaned, feeling like she had just been at the receiving end of a rothé stampede, before remembering that what had actually happened wasn’t much better. It took a moment for her to wonder if the fall had killed her and she was now laying there waiting for Kelemevor’s judgement, but the distant sound of birds and what felt like sand beneath her fingers convinced her otherwise. With a great amount of effort, Tav peeled her eyes open, only to be immediately met with sunlight. It took everything she had not to curse Lathander and to instead be grateful that at least she was being blinded by the actual sun and not Avernus’s hellfire.

She let out a deep sigh and sat up. Looking around, she noticed that she was, in fact, on a beach, which explained the sand. The beach was also on fire. Or, at least, the wreckage scattered about the beach was on fire. Tav was almost shielded by the burnt remains of the illithid ship, now sinking into the tide, and she couldn’t help but think the mindflayers could have at least had the courtesy to crash the ship in a way that would’ve protected her eyes from the sun.           

Tav pulled herself to her feet and did her best to brush the sand and dirt from her clothes. Her breastplate was dented but intact, but her leather pants were ripped up and her boots needed a good repair. The tips of her hair were also singed, though she had needed a trim, anyways. After a general once-over, Tav determined that, while she was probably bruised from head to toe and would likely be walking with a limp for the foreseeable future, she had no grave wounds. She channeled some healing magic to patch together a gash on her upper arm, but the effort left her so drained that she didn’t bother with any of the other cuts. Tav knew she needed time and rest for her magic to replenish itself, and she could only hope she wouldn’t be tussling with any mindflayers before she got a nap in.

After gathering some herbs she’d noticed on the shoreline, Tav began the journey forward. She didn’t have a clue where she was but knew answers wouldn’t present themselves if she stayed in one place. However, she didn’t make it far before she stumbled on a familiar figure.

There, sprawled in the sand further up the beach, was Shadowheart. 

Tav jogged forward, hoping she was finding an unconscious ally rather than a dead one, and was relieved when she saw the slow rise and fall of Shadowheart’s chest. As Tav bent down to wake her, she took note of something clasped in the half-elf’s hand. Tav leaned closer to get a better view and realized it was a small, angular object, covered on all sides in what she recognized as gith script, though Tav couldn’t recall if it was of githyanki or githzerai origin. She figured that the object was what Shadowheart had paused to gather from her pod, and while her curiosity tempted her to snatch the artifact, Tav stamped the urge down and instead did gave Shadowheart’s arms a shake.

She woke slowly, grunting at the light much like Tav had, and when her green eyes focused, Tav caught a flash of surprise.

“You’re alive,” Shadowheart said, not sounding fully convinced. “I’m alive. How is this possible?”

Tav shrugged and helped Shadowheart to her feet, watching as she tucked the artifact back into a pocket.            

“Your guess is as good as mine. What matters is that we survived.”

Shadowheart huffed and began to dust off her armor, though the details were still smudged over with grime. “I suppose you’re right. Do you know where are?"

“I was hoping you may have an answer to that,” Tav replied. “I don’t recognize the area, though I haven’t gotten the chance to really look around yet. Maybe we’ll find something familiar.”         

“We?” Shadowheart raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay together?”

“It makes the most sense,” Tav said. “We’re both infected and need to find a cure. We stand a better chance surviving out here if we travel together.”

A wry smile crossed Shadowheart’s face, and it was only then, in the light and away from the turmoil of battle, that Tav took note of just how pretty the young woman was.       

“A logical plan. If you hadn’t been running around with that gith, I’d say you were pretty smart.” Tav snorted, but Shadowheart’s words did bring up something she hadn’t noticed yet.

“Speaking of, where is she? I saw you fall off the ship but I lost sight of her.”

“I wouldn’t worry about her,” Shadowheart said. “She wasn’t going to spare the energy to help me, so I won’t spare any energy on her.” Something flashed in Shadowheart’s eyes and she seemed to hesitate slightly before continuing. “On that note, I did want to thank you for that. Staying behind to free me. You didn’t have to, and it would’ve honestly been the smart move to save yourself instead of risking your neck for a stranger, but you did anyways. I’m grateful for that.”     

Tav smiled and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind a pointed ear.

“I wouldn’t have just walked away and let you die. I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself if I did.”

“Not many people would’ve shared that sentiment,” Shadowheart mused, and Tav couldn’t help but wonder if Shadowheart counted herself amongst that crowd. “Regardless of your reasoning, you saved my life. I won’t forget that.” 

Before Tav could say anything, Shadowheart looked around the beach and let out a deep breath.     

“Well, enough with the heart-to-hearts. We’re losing daylight. We should find somewhere to make camp for the night.”

Tav looked towards the horizon and noticed Shadowheart was right. With how low the sun was, she figured they maybe had a few hours before dark. In unfamiliar territory, Tav didn’t relish the idea of getting caught in the wilds when the sun went down. 

“Agreed. Let’s get moving, then.”   

The pair began moving up from the beach towards the tree line, taking note of a large stone door that appeared to lead into some kind of temple, but it was locked and neither could pick it, so they continued on. Tav said a small prayer to herself every time they passed the body of someone who had clearly been caught in the crash, which earned her a look from Shadowheart every time.

“You’re a cleric too, aren’t you?” Tav asked, to which Shadowheart nodded. “So then you know it is only natural to want to lay the dead to rest.”

Shadowheart paused a moment, pursed her lips, and said nothing.    

As they passed through the smoldering remains of the illithid vessel, Tav attempted to make small talk, but the conversation was stilted, with Shadowheart seemingly uncomfortable discussing herself. When Tav had pressed on which deity Shadowheart served, she had clammed up, stating that it was a private matter. Tav attempted to ease her worries by affirming her own worship of Lathander, but that only seemed to make Shadowheart more wary. After taking care of a few rogue intellect devourers in the wreckage and picking over the bodies, Tav began to run down a list of patrons in her head that would’ve commanded such secrecy. Kelemvor wasn’t off the table—given how nobody was particularly eager to befriend someone that hung out in cemeteries all day, Tav wouldn’t be surprised if Shadowheart wanted to keep that to herself—or perhaps her god was simply less popular. Loviatar, perhaps? Or Mask, maybe, though Shadowheart didn’t seem like much of a thief.

While Tav was pondering, she watched Shadowheart reach down into the pockets of a corpse and retrieve a piece of fabric, which she used to begin wiping down her armor. In the sunlight, Tav caught a glimpse at the front of Shadowheart’s breastplate. Blazoned right in the center was a large black circle decorated with golden arches almost resembling a setting sun. It wasn’t familiar to Tav, though as she began to take notice of Shadowheart’s other accessories, namely those revolving around more big black circles, a sick feeling curled up her spine. Shadowheart couldn’t be…could she?

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk or will you actually do something useful in the near future?”                   

Shadowheart’s quip broke Tav out of her train of thought. She blinked and smiled up at Shadowheart but could feel that it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Sorry, I…I think the tadpole is eating at my brain.”    

Shadowheart didn’t look entirely convinced but seemed not to care about what had caused Tav’s lapse in focus, since she just shrugged and hopped down from the ledge she’d been on.

“Alright, but if you plan on dying a horrible death, please do so from a safe distance away. I’ve fought enough mindflayers for one day.” 

Tav laughed. It didn’t shake the worry and suspicion that had started brewing in her stomach.

After looting what parts of the ship they could access, the pair started up a small cliff only to come across a large sigil sputtering against the side of the mountain. They glanced at each other before raising their hands and creeping closer, ready with magic if the situation called for it. Tav moved right to the front of it, while Shadowheart stayed further back. When Tav gave her a look, she said, “In case you need backup, of course,” accompanied by a wry smile. Tav curled her lip, but wasn’t able to say anything in response, as it was at that moment when a hand suddenly shot from the depths of the sigil. She yelped and stumbled back and the hand and its accompanying arm began to wave erratically.

“Hello?”

A voice called out, seemingly from deep within the rune itself. Tav approached, head tilted in curiosity, watching the hand move.

“Some help? For a wizard in need?"

Tav turned to look at Shadowheart, who seemed just as confused, before looking back at the hand.

"Are you okay?” she called, at a loss for what else to say.

“I assure you I will be, once a potentially kind soul helps me out of my current predicament!” the voice yelled back, sounding far more chipper than Tav would’ve expected for someone apparently stuck in a mountain.

She gave the rune a look and reached out with her own magic, asking Lathander for his guidance to lead her around the spell and calm its wrath. She followed his direction until she felt confident to raise her hands and began to channel a countercharm. Tav watched the jagged edges of the sigil begin to soften, and from inside, she heard the voice call out again.

“Whatever it is you’re doing, it’s doing the trick! A good tug should do it now."      

Tav grabbed the hand and, with Shadowheart behind gripping her shoulders, began to pull backwards. She could feel the sigil fighting back until, with a pop, its power sizzled out, and the pair fell backwards as the individual inside the rune sprang loose. Shadowheart stumbled away, but Tav landed in a heap—for the third time that day, she snarked to herself—with the stranger on top of her. She looked up and met the very surprised gaze of a man, who immediately began to stutter.

“Oh! By the Weave, I am so sorry, that was most unbecoming of a gentleman, I apologize, my lady.” He continued to ramble as he stood, reaching down to help Tav up in a reversal of their previous position.

“Really, I don’t normally tackle people who save my life by way of thanks. Not that my life is often in need of saving, mind you, I promise I am not some wayward adventurer, I’m just a humble wizard who got themselves into a spot of trouble with an errant group of illithid, and, well, we can all see how that went—”

Tav glanced over at Shadowheart, who looked like she really wished they had just ignored the rune, before turning back and holding up her hands.

“Hey!”

The man clamped his jaws shut, and Tav noticed a blush high on his cheeks. Whether out of embarrassment or from their earlier close proximity, she had no clue.

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously, it isn’t a big deal.”   

A smile broke out onto the man’s face, deepening the lines around his eyes and lips. He was handsome, in a scholarly sort of way, with dark hair curling around curved human ears and bright brown eyes indicative of all overly curious wizards.

“Oh, I think rescuing a rather unlucky wizard is a rather big deal, actually. But,” he held up his hands, “I can assure you that I am most grateful for your kindness. I just wish I had something in the way of thanks.”

Tav smiled. This man was odd, even for a wizard.

“Thank me by explaining how you wound up in that stone. Not a normal location to find someone.”

“A most unusual circumstance, to be certain,” he replied. “One in a long series of most unusual circumstances I have experienced today.” He raised a brow. “Circumstances I believe all three of us share? I saw you. On the mindflayers’ ship, I mean.” 

Tav glanced at Shadowheart, who very clearly did not want anything to do with the current situation, and realized she was going to have to do the talking.

“Yes, we were both on the ship, along with a gith woman who seems to have been lost in the crash.”            

The wizard’s eyes widened.

“So it was a gith attack that brought the ship down? I had my suspicions, but…” He trailed off before shaking his head. “Anyways, it was a tumble out of that ship that put me in the situation where I needed to find a way to spare myself the particularly quick death I was facing as the ground approached. When I sensed the magic in that stone, I reached out, hoping to slow my fall, which I was successful in doing so, at the cost of sending myself across the Weave and into the stone itself.” He shrugged. “Magic, eh? Never know where it will take you.                         

"But, sudden real life applications of the forces of gravity aside, since we were all unwilling passengers on the nautiloid, I imagine all three of us were at the receiving end of a spontaneous and unwanted insertion in the ocular region?”

It took a moment for Tav to decipher what on earth the man had just said, but when she did, she grimaced.        

“If you mean the tadpole, then yes. I take it you got one too?”               

The man smiled, but there wasn’t much mirth behind it.               

“Indeed. As much as I love getting firsthand experience with the lesser-known cultures of Faerûn, I can say this was one encounter I would have rather avoided. Are you aware of the…eh, shall we say violent conclusion such an infection brings?”     

Tav’s scowl deepened.

“Unfortunately. We have days, a week at best, before we’re mindflayers ourselves.”      

“Right you are,” the man responded. “Now, I can’t help but notice you bear the symbol of Lathander,” he pointed to the center of her breastplate where the Morninglord’s sun blazed, “which leads me to hope that you are perhaps a cleric skilled in the ways of much needed cerebral surgery?”        

“You seem to know enough about our condition to know that we’ll need more than a cleric to solve this problem,” Shadowheart suddenly butted in. The man gave a halfhearted chuckle.

“No harm in asking, I suppose.”

"Well, we were on our way to find some kind of civilization,” Tav said. “Since we’re all in the same boat, do you want to tag along?”

At the same moment, the man’s face split into a broad grin as Shadowheart scowled deeply.

“I did not want to impose on your hospitality—”            

“Then don’t,” Shadowheart muttered, to which Tav shot her a glare.

“—but I must admit I was rather worried I was going to have to figure this out on my own. It is a great relief to have found allies in arms. Or, tentacles, perhaps.”

Tav rolled her eyes and watched Shadowheart do the same before smiling.

“Great. I’m Tav, this is Shadowheart. And you are?”

The man’s eyes widened.

“Oh goodness, where are my manners?” He thrust out his hand. “Gale of Waterdeep, at your most grateful service.”                      

“Waterdeep?” Tav said as she shook the wizard's hand. “That’s where I’m coming from.”

"Ah!” Gale responded, his face bright, clearly happy to have someone else from his city nearby. “A resident of the Spires of the Morning, I take it? A beautiful temple indeed. Once, when I was a young and rather unwise student at Blackstaff, I spent the festival of Sornyn within those walls, and, well, perhaps got a little too indulgent in the celebrations, and…”

Gale continued to recount stories from his time at Blackstaff as the trio resumed the trek up the mountain.     

“Are you just going to pick up every stray we come across?” Shadowheart hissed out the corner of her mouth as Gale suddenly switched from stories about his student days to ruminations on illusion magic. Tav let a smile cross her features.

“I picked you up, didn’t I?"          

Shadowheart opened her mouth, probably to bite out a reply, but found no words, causing Tav to laugh.           

“Besides,” she continued, “a wizard is always useful to have around.” She glanced behind her, where Gale continued to ramble seemingly without the knowledge that he had no real audience. “Lack of social skills notwithstanding.”     

Shadowheart huffed. “Fine, but the moment a fireball gets too close to my eyebrows, I’m putting him back in that stone.”

Tav had rejoined Gale’s one-sided conversation about Waterdeep when, about half an hour of walking later, the sun now hanging low on the horizon, Shadowheart suddenly stopped up ahead of them and held up a hand.   

“Hold on,” she called back. “Someone’s up ahead.”          

Tav jogged up to Shadowheart, Gale hanging back with a quick excuse that he was the only one of them without armor or a big threatening weapon, and looked over her shoulder.        

Shadowheart was right. Further up the road, a lone figure stood in front of a few broken illithid pods. All she could make out from a distance was a deep maroon overcoat and a shock of white hair.

“Everything look alright?” Gale called, which apparently drew the stranger’s attention. The figure turned, causing Shadowheart to grumble.

“Great. Now we have to talk to him.”

“Maybe he’s another survivor?” Tav mused.

“Or maybe he’s a petty thief hoping to make a quick payday."

Tav sighed. “Only one way to find out.”    

Her grip tightened on her mace and she began to cross the gap between her and the stranger. Behind her, she heard Gale talking to Shadowheart.                      

“A rather brave soul, that one.” 

“You call it bravery. I call it idiocy.” 

“I’ve found the two often work hand in hand.”                           

Tav was too far away to hear Shadowheart’s inevitably rude reply.

As she got closer, she was able to make out more details of the stranger. He was a man, slightly shorter than both Shadowheart and Gale but taller than her without including her horns, with prominent elven ears poking out from beneath curly white hair. He was dressed in well-made clothes, complete with a ruffled collar and elegant belt, leading Tav to wonder if she’d stumbled across a hapless patriar.                 

“You there!” he called. Gods, even his accent was posh.

“Yes?” Tav replied, stopping once she was close enough to talk without yelling but not so close he could reach out and grab her if he felt inclined to. “What’s wrong?”

The elf gestured into the grass. “I’ve got one of those wretched brain things cornered in the brush, but I don’t have anything to kill it with. I hoped you may be a fair bit more capable than me.”      

“What’s going on?”

Tav turned to see Shadowheart and Gale approaching.

“He says there’s an intellect devourer in the grass. Must’ve escaped the crash.”

“Ah!” Gale said, a slight wince to his features. “Nasty things, intellect devourers. It’s said the greater the intelligence of a person, the more intellect devourers are drawn to feast.”

“Sounds like you won’t be having much trouble, then,” Shadowheart replied, earning an immediate stutter from Gale. Before they could bicker, Tav turned back to the elf, who was watching with a mix of amusement and confusion.

“Let me handle this."

She stepped forward, keeping a close eye on the man as he flashed her a charming grin and extended his arms in a mock bow. This close, with the setting sun shining directly on them, Tav got a better look at him. Unlike Gale, who was attractive in the same way that old libraries were—warm and comforting with an air of refinement earned with age—the elf was every bit a stereotypical lady-killer. Strong jaw, sharp nose, high cheekbones. He was a handsome man who clearly knew it, radiating confidence and oozing charisma. It was almost enough to distract her from his eyes.     

Tav stuttered in her steps when she met his gaze. It was piercing like the rest of him, but far from the usual greens or blues she’d expect from an elf. In the sun, his eyes were like wine, deep rich red. It was enough to make her heart stumble, but not from attraction or even arousal. Not when she was certain she caught a glimpse at a sharp tooth between his full lips.

“Losing your nerve, darling?” His voice was low, layered with a charm Tav knew was meant to ease her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that had shot up her spine. All her training under her Dawnmaster, learning to spot the enemies of the Morninglord, telling her to be on her guard. There was a prickle behind her heart, and she almost let her instincts convince her that she was looking at a beast. But the sun was up, and the elf was standing directly in its light. She blinked. False alarm.

“No, of course not.” She stepped forward, shaking the feeling of everything she’d ever learned at the Spires crawling up her spine and nudging the parasite aside to scream into her ear that there was something wrong here—

A rustle in the bushes, and a boar sprinted out from the foliage. Tav let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, and suddenly there was a knife at her throat and she was being pulled into the dirt.   

She saw both Shadowheart and Gale’s hands raise, fire blazing at the tips of their fingers, as the elf clutched her close to his chest, the silver of his blade digging into her scars.       

“Don’t move,” he hissed into her ear. “We don’t want to mark up that pretty neck of yours, now do we?"

“Watch yourself,” she heard Shadowheart call. “You’re outnumbered.”

“And I have your friend at knife point,” the elf responded. “You’ll stay back if you want her blood to stay inside her veins.”

Tav’s brain finally caught up with her. She shook herself and heard the elf bickering with Shadowheart and Gale. Her horns dug into the ground, her tail pinned beneath their combined weight. Tav scowled to herself. She was really off her game today. Even if the elf wasn’t what she thought he was, he still had a blade to her throat, and that made him a threat regardless.

She threw her head to the side while the elf was distracted with her companions and her horns collided with his chin. He hissed, and she took his moment of distraction to slip loose, coming to her feet with hands outstretched. She let holy fire spring to her fingertips despite how low her reserves were running. She really needed a nap.

The elf sprang up to mirror her, his knife clutched in his hands and his pretty face marred by a scowl.

“No weapon, huh?” Tav quipped, nodding to the blade. “If you wanted to rob us, you’re off to a bad start.” The elf’s expression went darker and she watched him squeeze the handle of his dagger.

“Don’t play games with me, tiefling” he growled, and once again Tav was sure she saw pointy teeth. “I saw you on the ship. Walking about without a care in the world. What did you do to me?” 

“What did I do?” Tav balked. “Do I look like a mindflayer? I was abducted just like you. Infected with one of their tadpoles.”           

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he hissed back.                                      

“Do you really want me to answer that?” she responded with a smile.

Before he could snap back, the pain she was becoming begrudgingly familiar with flared up. She saw streets illuminated by streetlamps, the flash of sultry smiles. There were sheets under her hands twisted in ecstasy, lips against her neck, and...

Fear. So much fear that it was clogging her throat. A light against her eyes, terror in her heart, a pair of red eyes, the glint of something sharp—      

The connection severed and Tav was back in her own mind. She looked up and met the confused gaze of the elf.               

“What…what in the hells was that?” he said.

“The tadpole. It’s what the illithids put in our heads,” she replied. “It connects our brains, lets us see into each other’s minds.” 

The elf took a moment, staring at her and clearly wondering if she was telling the truth, but he eventually lowered his knife.              

“Well, that certainly…explains things.” He sniffed. “Is that all these worms do or are there other…side effects that you know of?"

“They are actually the first stage in the illithid life cycle,” Gale piped up from behind her. “Mindflayers require hosts for their larvae, given they do not have the biological requirements for sexual reproduction. After a brief but agonizing gestation period, the host body is consumed and a newborn illithid takes its place.”  

The elf blinked and turned to Tav. She sighed.

“They’ll turn us into mindflayers if we don’t remove them.”         

The man’s pale skin went even paler, and he opened and shut his mouth like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Turn us into…?” He cut himself off with a harsh laugh. “Of course they will. Why did I expect anything different?” The elf shook his head and a wry smile crossed his face.     

“And here I was ready to decorate the ground with your insides. Apologies."          

Tav scrunched her nose and nodded, not quite willing to openly forgive him but having no stomach for another fight.             

“So, have you lovely people made any headway in figuring out how to control these things yet?” the elf continued. Tav drew her brows together.

“We need to remove them, not control them.”

The elf rolled his eyes. “Well, yes, obviously, but first things first.” 

Tav looked back at Shadowheart and Gale, who were already looking at her, clearly waiting for her to make a decision. She let a breath hiss through her teeth.     

“We only just got this problem, same as you. We were trying to find some sort of civilization to see if they’ve got a healer that could help, if you…” Tav trailed off, and she could practically feel Shadowheart’s glare against the back of her head. “If you wanted to tag along.” 

Shadowheart sighed.

The elf perked up, clearly pleased and surprised with the turn of events.

“Well, I was ready to go this alone, but who am I to turn down such wonderful company?” The charmer’s smile returned as he lowered into a half bow. “My name’s Astarion.”

“Tav,” she replied. “That’s Shadowheart and Gale.”

“A pleasure to meet your…well-armed acquaintance,” Gale said from behind them.

“Yes, well,” Astarion said, fully tucking away his dagger, “I suppose it is.”

He grinned, wrinkles creasing around his bright red eyes, and Tav was again struck by that feeling in her chest, like her Dawnmaster was somehow yelling at her all the way from Waterdeep that she was missing something. She frowned. Maybe he just had drow somewhere in his heritage. No reason to jump to conclusions.

“Well, that was lovely,” Shadowheart said, sounding like the past fifteen minutes were anything but, “though I feel the need to remind everyone that we are on a rather tight schedule and we’re running out of daylight. Shall we continue, or are there any more wayward vagabond you plan to pick up?”

“Vagabond?” Astarion gasped. “I am no such thing. Merely a simple bastard.”

Tav shook her head and turned the way they had been heading.

“Yes, let’s keep moving. We don’t want to find out what sort of monsters are out here at night.”

She couldn’t stop herself from looking at Astarion when she said that. He responded only with another salacious grin as the group began their journey again.

Tav mentally kicked herself. She’d been hoping for vampires all day. And as she looked up at Astarion’s back, she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps she’d finally gotten her wish.

Beetlejuice (1988)

Chai tea bag + lil but of brown sugar + apple cider packet + 16 oz. mug of hot but not quite boiling water

it will not Fix You but like. maybe. maybe.