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Summary
“This whole camp feels like family, in this…weird situation,” Tav explained with a laugh, a touch of her free fingers to his eyebrow, down to the corner of his mouth, and then behind his ear to a curl of his hair.
Astarion froze, his red eyes wide on his face, surprised as always by what she had to say. “Am I…” and his voice got stuck in his throat, a cough, a groan.
She smiled gently, “You are, to me. I used to dream about love, from the way my parents loved each other. I used to want the same thing. You are that, to me. The warmth of a home. My star to guide me now.”
(or: Tav's view on family in her past, present, and future, and building a family and home with Astarion, from their meeting and down the years)
Bookmarked by imostlybookmarkstuff
15 Nov 2023
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Summary
He chokes on her first blessing. Motes of god-light rise from his skin like dust in a rotting house. Like pious little fungal spores.
Tavstarion wherein Tav is a half-orc cleric of Ilmater named Lash. Heavy emphasis on how Astarion interacts with the cleric bit specifically. Contains h/c, overbearing religious symbolism, and (potentially) facing God to walk backwards into hell.
- Words:
- 45,312
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 81
Bookmarked by imostlybookmarkstuff
10 Nov 2023