*Feminine Urge To Drop Out Of Everything And Bang The Mothman

*Feminine urge to drop out of everything and bang the mothman

Just a Little Lie: Prologue

Think about it: Imagine a reader that meets the boys of 141 as a “civilian”. They don’t want to run off yet another man that finds them intimidating because of their military background. So they act dumb, assuming they can keep their career secret at least long enough to make a go of this new situationship. Until it gets them into trouble once they’re assigned to a new taskforce.

A/N: I know Ghost and Soap only show up from MW2 onwards - just let me have this!

Keeping this deliberately vague until character specific chapters start. Think of it like a dating sim where you choose your route after the prologue I guess 😛

Also I can almost guarantee setting up the context for this here in the prologue is going to be so much longer than chapters going forward - I apologise in advance darlings!

*All* Y/Ns in my fics are GN! unless requested otherwise - pet names inbound but nothing specifically gendered. Slow burn - eventual smut. Canon Typical Violence starting from Chapter 1.

Word Count: 3925

MINORS: DNI (I swear to god)

—-

It had been going on for maybe three or four months now. And almost a month at least of back and forth banter over text, of coffee dates and dinners when his schedule allowed. A month of thinly veiled flirting and touches that could almost be taken as friendly as you got to know each other. Or, as you got to know him anyway. He’d been upfront that his work was in some way attached to the military (most likely an active service member), and while you knew he couldn’t really discuss more - he didn’t know you knew that. So with a look of awe and confusion you’d been innocently fishing. Purely innocent of course.

When you initially met at the cafe round the corner from your flat you didn’t know he was a fellow soldier. Which is precisely how you had gotten to this point. Perhaps if you had known you could have avoided the pretence and half truths you’d fed him with a head tilt and a smile. You couldn’t find a man within your own unit, that was beyond unacceptable for multiple reasons. And far too often you found yourself opening up to someone new when on your brief stints of leave only for him to go quiet and disappear once he knew you could handle a knife. Or a gun, or even a grenade if need be. Completely understandable in hindsight - though no less disheartening in the moment once you realised messages were either being left unread or in some cases blocked from delivering. So you found yourself wanting to get to know this new guy first, at least a little while before dropping the proverbial bombshell on him.

He was well built, that’s for sure, and held himself in a rigid posture that you should have noticed right away from your own days standing to attention in front of your captain. But his eyes caught yours instantly when you met - a startling intensity that held you rooted to the spot as you both reached for the same cup sitting on the counter that afternoon. You hadn’t been paying much attention in fairness. Far too caught up in a conversation that was clearly going nowhere fast, and somehow too in your phone to even realise that you weren’t the only patron waiting for your drink in the quiet shop. Hands collided and you found your eyes darting from the cup up to his face, apologies rushing out of your lungs as you lost your breath suddenly, barely managing a pathetic “Oh”.

“Sorry Y/N, machine is acting up - still waiting on your shots.” you vaguely heard from the older woman behind the bar, sounds a little muffled against the sound of your own heartbeat.

“No, not at all! Was away with the fairies I think.” a quick glance back to the mystery man in front of you “Apologies sir”.

“No problem, Y/N was it?” The last part came with a chuckle that sent an embarrassing tingle down your spine, barely contained by the tension you were still holding in your shoulders.

You couldn’t remember quite how the conversation had gotten started from there. But you did learn that he was also a regular to this little spot as you took up a seat near the draughty doorway. It was frankly surprising how you’d both missed each other up till this point really. It was a totally friendly chat about the quality of the cafe for the low price, and some of the other places to eat and drink around the local arena, but it was nice. Comfortable even. If you hadn’t received a call from your captain to check in on you while you were on leave you’d have stayed longer. You honestly didn’t expect to see him again as you stepped out to take the call, and it seemed he had places to be given the way he looked down at his own phone. Yet there he was when you walked in only a few days later. You aren’t even sure now who joked that you should swap numbers if you were going to keep bumping into each other like this, but you’re glad it happened.

—-

And that was how it started. A quick message from one of you to say you were out and about that day, and a reply from the other to suggest either your cafe or somewhere else to catch up. A text to say you’d gotten home safe after seeing him for an hour or so (at his insistence), followed by at least a dozen texts talking about the fun you had seeing each other and how you needed to do this again. Questions asking when you’d each be free next - and total understanding that work got in the way and you might be away for a few days from you both. You were purely on a first name basis, and you were comfortable with that. Work began picking up again and you hadn’t assumed he would be anything but a casual friend. No need to get too attached in your line of work. Especially if your prior romantic endeavours were any indication.

A data analyst, that’s what you’d decided to tell him when he asked about your work almost a fortnight after meeting him. You were called into different places as part of a rolling contract so you were never sure exactly where you were heading next. And it wasn’t too far off from the truth in all honesty. You’d always been skilled with computers and your ability to notice patterns in seemingly nonsensical data sets had been noticed not long after you enlisted. While you were trained for the front lines, you quickly found yourself pulled back by your superior officers at the academy. A sergeant for sure, but you often found yourself behind a screen coordinating units and monitoring traffic from the other side. Not too much of a stretch to some sort of number jockey in an office somewhere you felt. And you were certainly starting to enjoy this new man’s company. No need to scare him off. Though as time went by you were quickly coming to the realisation that very little seemed to faze him.

You thought about telling him, truthfully. You had been sitting on an admittedly damp bench outside a kebab shop late one evening, both of you back in late from work and neither of you in the mood for anything other than quick and greasy food. He beat you to the punch though. And oh how it sent you spinning as you realised what you were getting yourself into.

“So, Y/N, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he paused as he shovelled in another mouthful of donner meat with one of those crappy little wooden sporks, “about what I do for work I mean”. You were caught a little off guard, having been waiting for a moment to come clean yourself, your own spork full of curry covered chips halted precariously half way between the styrofoam container and your mouth.

“Yeah? You’ve been a little vague on that one” you murmured after a short pause, quickly blowing on your food and taking a bite as it threatened to fall off the disposable utensil. You got a small “hmph” and a nudge from his thigh for that one, a cheeky smirk falling into place for both of you. He had mentioned travelling for work himself, and combined with some oddly familiar tendencies he was showing, you had a gnawing feeling that you knew where this was going.

“Well yeah, I can only apologise for that. Didn’t really know how to bring it up.”

“You make it sound like you do something scary when you say it like that. What are you, some sort of assassin for hire?” The joke earned you a half-hearted glare and a full but playful shove from his shoulder, sending you too far to the edge of the bench as you slid across the wet surface. The size difference was most notable in moments like these - this wasn’t the first time he almost sent you flying in playful moments when he pushed you around.

“Oh shit, sorry” he linked a quick finger into the belt loop of your jeans and hauled you back next to his side with ease before you even had the chance to begin to topple over in what would have been a hilarious fall into a cold puddle.

“Really though, I didn’t want to scare you off when we were getting on so well, but I’ll be off for work again and gone for a while soon enough. Didn’t want you to think I was ghosting you or something.” The quirk of his lips as he mentioned that last part gave you the feeling that there was meant to be an inside joke there, but nothing you could place. “I’m involved in some military shit, and I’m shipping out in a few days. Only getting a few days break then back at it again.”

“Military?” You asked, hoping beyond hope that the surprise in your voice could be played off as you recovering from your near tumble, “Should’ve guessed I suppose. Normal guys aren’t built like you unless they’re in the gym 24/7, and I take up far too much of your free time for that” poking your spork into his upper arm as if to indicate what a brick wall it was. The joke seemed to disarm him somewhat as he broke into a wide open-mouthed grin, his tongue pressing against his upper canine in the way you had come to realise meant he was trying not to laugh.

“That you do Y/N. Between that and all the food we eat it’s lucky I fit in my uniform.”

“You suggested the kebab shop, I could have been convinced to cook tonight.”

“Oh? I could have had you cooking dinner for me tonight? I’m devastated.”

You turned your face away quickly at that, the way you always did when the flirting became a little too obvious. Internally though, your mind was reeling. Fuck. While he may have been a little vague on his profession he hadn’t outright lied, you had. The idea of admitting that to him felt like a terrible idea right now. The moment was nice, and you were hardly about to ruin it by telling him you were a soldier.

But the pieces were clicking into place. The way he stood ramrod straight next to you as you placed your order, shoulders back and chest out with his hands clasped at the small of his back. The way he kept his eyes moving around as he surveyed the drunken uni students stumbling into the kebab shop behind you. They way he almost jumped out his own skin when a car had backfired in the next street over as you found a place to sit, moving in front of you as he searched for the source of the noise, head practically on a swivel. This man had seen combat.

Not a part of your squad though. There was no way you would have missed him if you had spotted him out in the field or in the barracks. No way in hell. This was fine, wasn’t it? If you weren’t on the same team then nothing had to change, not really. Your work was classified, sure, but if you explained that then really nothing had to stop here. Couldn’t be counted as fraternising if you didn’t actually work together.

You realised you were being too quiet though, too caught up in your thoughts, and you could feel his hot stare on you as if expecting you to find a reason to bolt. Quickly turning back to look up at him and tilting your head in just the right way that your hair fell in front of your face you said, “I’m not sure dragging back an attractive military man to my flat for dinner is the best idea,” the way he froze in that moment had you quickly continuing “especially only a few days from shipping out. I can’t imagine giving you something to be distracted about while you’re meant to be working is the best idea.” That one was certainly a home truth. Far too often he had been in your mind at the most inopportune moments behind your screen lately. The pause felt like it was stretching on into eternity, and you really worried you pushed too far over whatever invisible line you had both drawn between the two of you.

“You say that like you haven’t been enough of a distraction already Y/N.” the softness in his voice had you breathless. His food sat on his lap, held so loosely in his grip that you were sure it was going to spill onto the cobbles at your feet. Fuck indeed. You could feel the words rising up in your throat the way a sob would, desperate to get out that you understood far too well what he meant. That your captain had been ready to pull you aside after one too many daydream towards the end of a meeting. But the words caught and you couldn’t say a thing, not when he went back to stabbing mindlessly at his rapidly cooling food. Not when he was already being far more open and raw than anyone else had been in such a long time.

There wasn’t much more said between you as you ate, stolen glances between you conveying more than words could in that moment. Something was brewing between you both tonight that was clouding the air, thick tension that seemed all too easily snapped if you so much as breathed too loudly. Something had changed in just a few words that was sending you down a new path in whatever this was. Casual friends didn’t find themselves staring at each other from the corner of their eyes, that much you knew. All too quickly you found yourselves finished with your food and walking down the road to your flat, and you had barely spoken more than a few words to each other in that time. Any chance you had of telling him tonight flew out the proverbial window and was replaced with a sinking thought that you should have done so earlier.

“Well then,” you hated the way that your voice practically croaked its way out of your throat as you stood outside the door to your building, “I guess unless either of us get called in early we’ll need to meet up again before you ship out.”

“Of course. It’s uh, it’s getting late though I suppose. Going to leave you here and get back to mine.”

“Yeah, absolutely. I had fun again tonight, by the way.” Practically a whisper against the wind. His hands twitched at his sides, the way they would as if wanting to reach out and grab something, stopped only by great effort if the way his jaw clenched was any indication.

“You did?” A deep breath and a near shuddering exhale.

“I always do when I’m with you.” Your hand came up to rest on his arm, squeezing gently against his bicep as if daring the tension to break.

“Good.” Was all you got before he practically dove in, lips to yours with a searing heat that almost knocked you back against the door. His hands were on your jaw, pulling you into him, desperation practically rolling off him in that moment. Like you would slip through his fingers at any moment if he didn’t hold you right here. You broke contact for just a split second to take a must needed breath before kissing back with equal intensity, you weren’t entirely sure who made the “mmph” sound as your lips collided again. I have to tell him, you thought - pushing further into the kiss.

And as if the universe had planned to ruin the moment, you heard your phones ring. Both of them, with the insistent ringtones you both knew to be from your respective employers. The same employers apparently. He pulled back as if stunned, slapped back into reality by the shrill mash-up of your phones against the quiet of the late night street. Phones were pulled from pockets as you both stared down at incoming calls. A near hysterical laugh ripped itself from you as you slumped against the door behind you. Four months to get a kiss from the gorgeous man in front of you and you get a call right now?

“I have to take this-”

“Gotta take this call-”

A chuckle from him, and he steps back, the cold swirling up your front as his heat leaves you.

“Later?” He holds up the phone to you, you know he can’t just not take this. Neither can you to be fair.

“Definitely later.” He smiles then turns to head down the road to his own flat as you turn to quickly let yourself into your building, your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you fumble with the keys. You manage to get inside and answer your call before it goes to voicemail.

“Sergeant Smith? Is this a good time?” You get the main door closed behind you.

“Yes Captain Harrison, what’s happened?” Taking your stairs two at a time to put distance between yourself and the world outside.

“I know you were meant to be on leave for at least a week but something’s come up. We’ve had a request for a temporary transfer from the higher ups. They need a fresh pair of eyes on information coming out of the Middle East and your file was pulled. Just warning you now,” You were at your flat door now, key in the lock as you waited - your Captain took an uncharacteristic pause, “you’ll be receiving a call within the next 10 minutes from a Kate Laswell from the CIA to discuss briefing and your flight out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been loaned out to another unit Sir, even if they were American. I’m not sure why you sound so apprehensive this time around.” You were inside your small flat at this point, jacket shrugged off and thrown over your duffel bags, still unpacked from your flight earlier today. Looks like they would be staying that way.

“I don’t know much about this unit, Sergeant, in all honesty. More of a task force from what I understand. By the sounds of it, it will all be heavily classified.” Well, if your interest wasn’t piqued before - it was now.

“What task force Sir?”

“141, under Captain John Price, SAS.”

—-

The next few days were a whirlwind. Briefings were had and official transfers were sought and approved. You barely had time to hit the ground running as you found yourself on a rather nondescript hangar base. Which, to be fair, was entirely understandable given the classified nature of task force 141 as you came to realise. You barely had time in all the madness to text your apologies to your man (your man?) that “later” would have to be once you both got back from whatever work you both had. He had been slow to respond, but knowing now that he was likely getting ready to go back out into the field you could understand. You really hoped he was as equally patient with yourself. Your access to your phone was going to be severely restricted once on base. Highly classified information and all.

You found yourself walking alongside Laswell following a quick but firm handshake, duffel over one shoulder and military assigned tablet under the other as you marched away from the helicopter that still had its engines running as it powered down on the tarmac. Soldiers were running across the field and between outbuildings. Whatever was going on had everyone in a rush, and that was never a good sign.

“You’ll receive a full briefing from Captain Price inside Sergeant, but just to get you up to speed,” her blue eyes squinting against the sun as she turned her head to you, “we lost custody of chemical gases in Verdansk less than a week ago. We have reason to believe they will surface again in the Middle East but there’s too much chatter in our communication channels to be sure where. You’ll be both here and in the field getting those chemicals secure before they hit friendly soil.”

“Understood - just tell me where to go to get set up.” She pointed her arm to a tent to the right of you, pace never slowing as she led you through the flaps. Inside were a group of three standard issue white folding tables in a “U” formation in front of a large screen, and you set your bag and tablet down on the one closest. You straightened as Laswell made her way to the front where a group of four uniformed soldiers stood huddled around said screen, shoulders back, feet apart and chin high. You could barely make out the hushed voices of the men ahead of you but held position, ever the good soldier. Ahead of you, you could see a tall imposing man in some sort of mask, though with his back to you it wasn’t obvious if it covered his full face. Next to him stood a man with a mohawk, his short sleeve shirt a major contrast to the full tactical gear of the man next to him. Off to the right stood a black man with short cropped hair, his baseball cap pulled low. Finally there was the man you assumed to be Captain Price, if the way the men kept turning to him was any indication, boonie hat covering the top half of his face and an unlit cigar hanging from his mouth.

Out of the four men standing ahead of you, you recognised one of them far too well for comfort, having had a good look at his back as he walked away from the door to your building only a few days ago. After he kissed you like he was scared to lose you, after he told you he was a soldier outside a crappy little kebab shop and you just sat there and let him keep believing you were just a data analyst. Shit. The rising panic in your chest threatened to bubble over into fear, and you found your knees beginning to shake. Not that you were given much time to think about the impending consequences.

“Captain Price,” the man with a boonie hat tilted his head in acknowledgment of Laswell as she reached him, “Sergeant Smith has arrived and is waiting for briefing.”

Four sets of eyes turned to you, but you only focused on one. Pleasant professionalism turned to surprise, then shock, and finally grave understanding as you stood there, near shaking like a leaf in the wind in front of him. You felt far too small in your standard issue boots, and your hands that were clutched to the front of your tactical vest longed to wrap around you at that moment. If the ground could have opened up and swallowed you whole in that moment you would have been more than happy. You could tell the colour had drained from your face, that you looked like you had just been shot, again, a more pleasant idea than the current situation you found yourself in at the moment.

“Y/N?”

Shit.

Had a thought about Captain Price

A/N: Don't we all?

Going to need you to trust me on this.

So - as of MW3 John's age is set at 38 in the year 2023. We also know he joined the infantry at 16 - then onto the army properly at 18.

John would have been 16 in 2001. In the UK. Which was when arguably we were still in the midst of a teen pregnancy epidemic across the country. Things have significantly improved since then.

I know you know where I'm going with this but just stick with me.

Now - for those of you who are maybe from outside the UK I can tell you now that recruiting kids right out of high-school has always been a bit iffy here in the public eye. Even more so when that kid hasn't even sat their A-levels at 18.

John dropped out of school to become a military man. That's just a fact. Which you can totally do from 16 - but most schools discourage it heavily.

English teens do not drop out of school to join the army if they have other options. We have apprenticeships or college if they don't like the traditional school route. And both of those can lead on to University courses.

John's only other option was to work - likely for minimum wage which I believe was like £3.50 an hour back then. It may have even been less given he was under 18.

Admittedly the army is good money for a kid that age. Especially if you don't see yourself going down a more traditional employment route.

But in what world would Price be so eager to earn good money fast? We know he's a smart guy - we've seen it in game. The man could have easily gotten into Uni. This is where we veer off the rails into glorious fanfic girly nonsense and I apologise.

Say he got his then girlfriend pregnant. We know he's a sensible guy - and we know he has a strong sense of responsibility and loyalty to the people he cares about.

He's obviously going to support his child and the mother of his baby. That's just in his nature.

He joins the military in order to be able to provide for them both. Now admittedly that means he's away from both his little family and everything he knows but let's be realistic - most teen parents don't stay together long term. I know so many personally where they don't even make it to the due date.

But if he's bringing a baby into this world he's damn well going to make sure it's taken care of.

Which leads me to my next point about what Price is like as a man in basically every fic he's in.

This man does not just radiate "Daddy" energy - this man is a Father.

Endlessly supportive of his boys in the unit, and fiercely protective.

He is willing to do almost anything to keep not only the 141 safe but the people back home as well (we see this in game as well when he drags in the Butcher's family to interrogate him).

We all know this man is wearing socks and sandals on holiday. We all know he's manning the grill at the BBQs. We all know he can't get up out of a chair without the iconic "Dad groan".

He is also far too good at putting up with the nonsense we write about Soap and Gaz in particular. They're the unit children and they certainly put John through his damn paces. Which he seems to put up with - with remarkable ease most of the time.

This man is a "weekend Dad". He sees his kid briefly when on leave or every other weekend depending on whether or not he's deployed. We've seen no evidence of a ring.

Now admittedly when you're running secret missions across the globe you don't want the enemy figuring out you have something at home to lose but this gives us some really nice single-dad!Price opportunities and I'm going to run with that.

But - assuming he had a kid at 16. That child is now 21/22. Prime age for the military. And roughly the right age for a steamy workplace romance with one of the other 141 members? Maybe?

I saw on here a while back this great series where Soap was in a secret relationship with Price's niece (I cannot for the life of me remember the creators name and I'm SO SORRY) and I raise you:

Secret relationship 141 x Price's!child

The angst - the steamy forbidden romance - the angry Dad energy - the potential SLOWBURN.

It's all right there for the taking.

Even better if we get some daddy issues from Y/N because John was never around. Like they didn't even tell him they were signing up in the first place. Maybe they don't have his last name and suddenly turn up under his command. The DRAMA.

I swear one day I'll actually have the time to write all these fics.

-Pet x

Tav is clearly the God of Defiance

You’ll need to excuse the ramblings of a writer that is a bottle of wine deep for this. But clearly, in my mind? Tav is the God of Defiance.

Across all of the companion quests, the ideal outcome is “No, you adorable moron, what this God/Lich/Devil/Vampire wants for/from you is terrible. Choose your own path. These divine bastards can fuck right off.” and that stance just… Works out well for Tav? Even when considering that you are facing down against the Grand Design of an elder brain as the focal point of the main quest, Tav straight up decides, “No - screw you - screw this - I’m not allowing that to happen” with no real repercussions to that.

Across the story, you as the player character come up against what would be to you and I as insurmountable odds and just… brute forces their way through to the outcome that they want?

You anger multiple gods or godlike entities, and instead of being wiped from the face of the Forgotten Realms the story just continues right along as if you didn’t just paint a massive divine target on your back?

In every companion questline, the team you form around you over the course of the story become stronger or more powerful in their own ways BECAUSE they listen to you when you tell them to ignore the powers that be and choose for themselves. Which as a whole makes the team stronger - makes TAV stronger. Because while a God in the context of the Forgotten Realms needs to be worshipped? A God of Defiance wouldn’t need to be. Every day when a mortal in the realms wakes up and chooses to live, to persevere in the face of the entire world around them conspiring to kill them? That’s an act of defiance, and that’s a prayer to God.

So when Gale decides after talking with you that he won’t blow himself on Mystra’s command? Tav gets stronger. When Wyll defies Mizora and refuses to kill an innocent Karlach? Tav becomes stronger. Because the people around them become more empowered in their ability to self determine their own fate.

We could go more meta and argue that clearly Tav is a God because they are operated by the player, a being outside the realm which the story is taking place in. An omniscient being with knowledge the characters simply don’t have. The ability to choose to not accept a roll of the dice, to explore the multitudes of choices available and simply to choose to return to a prior point to make a decision that aligns with your personal story preference the best in the long term.

But why do you need to when quite frankly Tav should have been a name in that book of forgotten/dead gods in the crypt where you first meet Withers?

Do I also like the idea (as a massive brat) of telling Ao, god of all gods, that in fact, no, I will not simply stop interfering with the lives of mortals? That by telling me that I can’t that you have given me all the power in this situation to do just that? Or that I could in theory punch Mystra in the face as Tav for implying that Gale could win her favour back by blowing himself up? It’s at least part of that.

In my mind Tav simply can’t explain this to their companions, that maybe Ao got a little pissy when he realised his mistake. Something along the lines of “Unless they already know or figure it out you can’t tell mortals that you’re a literal GOD. And no - I’m not allowing you to weasel your way out of this one Tav.”

And here comes my fic idea that I may or may not already have imagined at least a dozen chapters for:

Could you imagine the plot twist when you first meet Elminster? Your companions are questioning why the gods can’t interfere and the old wizard is just sitting there like “You do realise there’s already a God among you?” and it turns out Tav put themselves into a situation where they would be tadpole’d because it allows them to directly interfere because this is no longer a problem affecting mortals but also the Gods? The fact that this 1300 year old wizard (who must have figured it out along the way across his many adventures) points out your godly essence allows you in that moment to become this divine bastion against all the shit your companions are facing - people who have very quickly become important friends or lovers to you over the course of your little adventure? And now you no longer have to pretend to be this dumb nobody that just so happened to be spearheading this mission to save Faerun? Damn, I want that fic. I might write that fic.

Listen, if Stephanie Meyer can Mary Sue her way into a multiple book/movie deal I’m just saying that I should be allowed to get away with this in fanfiction.

Tav is the God of Defiance

Headcanons/ Fic Plot Overview

A/N: Has life been kicking my ass? Yes, but let’s not get into that. The whole Tav as God thing has really been burrowing deeper into my psyche and I need to get it out here or I may actually just go insane.

Enjoy some quickly thrown together headcanon type ideas - I may expand on these later if I can find the time in between work and everything else.

See prior drunken ramblings about God!Tav here

Before BG3:

Tav has been living almost exclusively in the material plane since the events of the Second Sundering. While they are empowered to live amongst mortals because Ao forbids it they can’t exactly risk returning home in case they get stuck there. It's sneaking back in when your parents are distracted sort of situation.

I imagine that at one point that Tav was traditionally worshipped, but as the other Gods pulled further back on Ao’s command the mortals around Tav likely began to question why their God was still walking amongst them. Or maybe a wandering God is simply too hard to keep track of in legend - especially when they can no longer disclose their godhood to followers. The old ones die - and no one was there to replace them. The traditional faith simply died out.

Tav has been adventuring for centuries, strengthening the resolve of their companions in the face of dire circumstances and impossible odds. This defiance they demonstrate in close proximity to the God enough to sustain Tav even if it wouldn’t grant them the same power they had before from temples and clerics.

I think regardless of the class you choose Tav is at least a little bit of a bard - if only to hide their godly magic as some form of bardic inspiration during a battle.

They always inevitably end up alone as their companions leave them behind, either leaving adventuring to retire or more likely dying despite Tav’s best effort.

While they can defy almost anything, there’s a finality in death that’s much older and primal than even Ao and there’s nothing to be done against that. Tav takes the pleasure they can in staving off death for their beloved friends as long as possible before it comes to claim them.

Tav doesn’t just simply gravitate towards the longer lived races on Toril, there’s something more potent probably in the defiance of a mortal that is risking their almost comically short life in comparison to that of an aged elf. Though longer lived races do allow Tav to go longer before losing another friend or lover.

During BG3:

As a God, hearing whispers of a new God calling itself the Absolute isn’t what you want to hear. Not when they - like you, appear to be directly interfering with the lives of mortals. Tav gets away with it purely by the nature of their domain. This new God may not be so lucky.

Combined with the increase of murders in Bhaal’s name in Baldurs Gate, and stirrings at Moonrise Towers which Tav knows all too well to be a Shar cursed land - Tav is compelled to investigate.

Finding themselves aboard a nautiloid has Tav panicked - this is looking to be a much larger threat to their beloved mortals than previously expected.

They have no allies with them though - no angered cries or acts of defiance to power them in this moment. Not that it matters. Interfering in the lives of a handful of mortals is one thing - but fighting against multiple Gods for the sake of all mortals would be a step too far for Ao.

This all changes when Tav is infected with a mindflayer tadpole.

Those infected with tadpoles are a threat to all those around them for many reasons. An individual with secret and forbidden knowledge is a tantalizing target to add to an illithid colony’s hive mind. What would happen if a God were to be transformed? Tav’s hand is forced, they’ll need to escape - gather allies and fight.

Upon crashing the nautiloid near the Emerald Grove and realising that most of their innate abilities are dampened by the psychic powers of the tadpole, Tav has to scramble to form an adventuring party. Thankfully - a group of desperate adventurers all with their own tadpoles to remove and lives they desperately want to return to just may very well have enough defiance in them for Tav to kill a God.

Tav just has to convince them to fight long enough to get the job done.

damn your blood tastes sooo good. What are your pronouns