#Wyll baby i love you so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prettyboykatsuki · 11 months ago

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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

3K notes · View notes

moonselune · 28 days ago

Note

You're like one of my FWVEEEE authors!! And I'm so excited to see ur RQ's are open, because I've wanted to rq this for a bit.

Maybe surprising the boys, after you've given birth, with the babies name being something meaningful to them? Or something they wanted but didn't say anything bc they would assume you didn't like it. My sister recently did that with her husband, and I just am obsessed w the idea. Like, maybe with Wyll naming your daughter Francesca, after his mother? And Ulder hearing that? UGH I'm very sentimental lately.

ahhhh thank you so much !!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The quiet of the early morning hours in the tower felt almost sacred as you cradled your newborn in your arms. You had just returned to the tower after a long and exhausting labor, and Gale had been nothing short of a perfect partner, by your side for every moment, but you had made sure to keep one small, precious detail to yourself until now.

Your eyes drifted to where Gale sat near the hearth, engrossed in the flames that flickered softly in the fireplace. His expression was contemplative, lost in thoughts that you couldn’t quite read. He had been gentle and supportive throughout the entire pregnancy, but there was something he had held back—a hesitation you had sensed but never pushed him to express. You knew it had something to do with the baby's name. You suspected that he had a name in mind but hadn’t spoken it, perhaps because he thought you wouldn’t share the sentiment.

As you rocked your baby gently, you decided it was time to reveal the surprise you'd been holding onto for these precious first few hours. With a quiet sigh, you stood, cradling your newborn in your arms as you approached Gale. The soft glow of the fire illuminated his face, and he looked up as you neared, his expression instantly softening at the sight of you and the baby.

“She’s finally asleep?” Gale asked softly, his voice barely louder than a whisper, as though he didn’t want to break the serene quiet that enveloped the room.

You nodded, sitting down beside him, the weight of the baby still comfortably nestled in your arms. Gale leaned in, brushing a gentle kiss on your temple before glancing down at the tiny bundle. His eyes shimmered with pride and awe, as they always did whenever he looked at your child.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” you murmured, your voice tender as you watched Gale’s expression shift to one of mild curiosity.

“What is it, my love?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, concern flashing briefly across his face. “Is everything alright?”

You smiled at the worry in his voice and reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "Everything is perfect. I just wanted to tell you her name."

Gale blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he realized you hadn’t yet shared the baby’s name. He had been patient, never once pressing you on the subject, but you had seen the way his gaze had lingered on your daughter with a quiet longing.

“I know we talked about a few names,” you continued, your voice soft as you leaned in closer. "But there's one name I think is perfect. And I know it’s a name that means a lot to you."

Gale's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable, as though he was afraid to hope for what he thought you might say.

His eyes searched yours, filled with unspoken emotion. "What… what name?"

You smiled gently, your heart swelling with love for both Gale and the tiny life you had created together.

"Her name is Morena," you whispered, the name falling from your lips like a promise. "Mora, for short."

For a brief moment, Gale just stared at you, his expression frozen in shock. The name—his mother’s name—hung in the air between you, filling the room with its quiet significance. You could see the emotions flickering in his eyes: disbelief, joy, and a deep, aching sense of gratitude.

"Morena," he repeated softly, almost as if testing the sound of it on his tongue. His voice cracked ever so slightly, and you saw the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes. "You… you named her after my mother?"

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "I know you never asked. I could feel how much you wanted it, but you never said anything because you didn’t want to push me. But Gale… the name is beautiful. And I want our daughter to have something meaningful to you. Something that connects her to the part of you that’s shaped who you are."

Gale let out a shaky breath, his chest rising and falling as the weight of your words sank in. His free hand reached up to wipe at his eyes, and when he looked back at you, there was such overwhelming love and appreciation in his gaze that it nearly took your breath away.

“You…” Gale began, but his voice faltered. He swallowed hard and tried again. “You don’t know what this means to me. I… I never thought you’d want that. But… Morena, Mora.” His voice broke again, but this time with joy. “It’s perfect. She’s perfect.”

He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing the soft blanket that swaddled the baby. Mora stirred slightly, her tiny face scrunching for a moment before relaxing again. Gale’s breath hitched as he looked down at her, his daughter, named after the woman who had given him life and shaped so much of the man he had become.

"I hope she’s as strong and as kind as your mother is," you said softly, watching as Gale gently stroked Mora's cheek with the back of his hand. "And I know that she’ll be loved just as fiercely."

Gale exhaled shakily, his eyes never leaving your daughter as he spoke.

"She will be," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ll make sure of it. And you… you’ve given me more than I ever thought I deserved."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his touch full of reverence and gratitude. When he pulled away, his eyes were shining with unshed tears, but his smile was full of warmth and love.

"Thank you," Gale whispered, his voice barely audible as he looked at you, his heart clearly overwhelmed. "Thank you for giving her this name. For giving me this family."

You rested your head on his shoulder, watching as Gale’s gaze returned to your daughter, his fingers gently tracing her tiny hand as she slept soundly in your arms.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the stone walls of your shared room, casting long shadows as you sat by the fire, cradling your newborn in your arms. The long and arduous process of giving birth had taken its toll on you, but the sight of your baby’s peaceful face nestled against your chest filled you with a joy so deep that the exhaustion seemed to melt away.

Astarion had been supportive throughout the pregnancy, doting on you in ways you never imagined he would, but ever since the birth, he had become quieter, more reserved, as if he wasn’t sure how to step into this new role. He had gone out earlier that evening, likely to clear his head, as he often did when faced with unfamiliar emotions. You hadn’t pressed him, understanding that this was a profound change for him, one he likely never expected to experience.

Now, with your baby in your arms, a surprise lay in wait for him. You had chosen a name—a name that held deep meaning, not just for you, but for him. A name that would connect him to this new life in a way you hoped would touch the very core of who he was.

The sound of the door creaking open pulled you from your thoughts. Astarion stepped into the room, his pale skin catching the firelight, making him look even more ethereal. His red eyes found you immediately, softening as he approached, though there was still that cautious distance he had kept since the baby’s arrival.

He was hesitant, not out of disinterest, but out of fear—fear of this new chapter, of his own ability to be what you and the baby needed him to be. You smiled warmly at him, your heart swelling with love.

“Astarion,” you called softly, beckoning him closer.

He approached cautiously, his eyes drifting to the small bundle in your arms, and you saw the flicker of something vulnerable cross his face. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach out, but he held back, unsure of how to move forward.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Astarion said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I… I’m not quite sure what to do in all of this.”

You shifted slightly, making room for him beside you. “You’re not intruding. You’re her father. Come sit with us.”

His eyes widened ever so slightly at the word father, but after a brief hesitation, he sat beside you, careful and measured in his movements. His gaze flickered from you to the baby, then back again, his usual confidence overshadowed by a nervous vulnerability that you had rarely seen in him.

"She’s so tiny," he whispered, almost in awe. "So… fragile."

You nodded, adjusting the baby gently so Astarion could get a better look at her. “She’s strong, though. Like her father.”

Astarion gave a soft, breathless chuckle, though it was clear he was still overwhelmed by the reality before him. "I’m not sure I deserve that comparison."

You reached out, gently taking his hand and placing it on the baby’s back, encouraging him to feel the steady warmth of her little body. He flinched slightly at the contact but quickly relaxed, his expression softening as he felt the tiny life beneath his palm. The look of wonder in his eyes made your heart swell.

“I named her,” you whispered, watching his reaction carefully.

His gaze snapped to yours, a flicker of curiosity and trepidation in his eyes. “Oh? What name did you choose?”

You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness at the surprise you were about to reveal. “Her name is Astra.”

Astarion blinked, his face momentarily blank as he processed the name. Then, slowly, realization dawned on him, and his red eyes widened in disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, his breath catching in his throat as the meaning behind the name sank in.

“Astra?” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “You… named her Astra?”

You nodded, smiling at him with all the love you felt. “Yes. Astra, the female version of your name. I wanted her to carry a part of you with her, always. I know how much your name means to you—how it’s the one thing that’s truly yours after everything you’ve been through. I wanted to give you something else, something between just you and her.”

Astarion’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, he seemed utterly speechless. His gaze dropped to the tiny baby in your arms—his daughter—and the depth of emotion in his expression took your breath away. His hand, which had been resting so gently on her back, now trembled slightly, as though the weight of what you had done was almost too much for him to bear.

“You named her after me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I never… I never imagined…”

He trailed off, his usual eloquence failing him as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes shimmered with a vulnerability that was rare for him to show, and you could see the mix of awe, disbelief, and gratitude that swirled within him.

“Astarion,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “I wanted her to know where she came from. Who her father is. And I wanted you to know how much you mean to both of us.”

A single tear escaped the corner of his eye, and Astarion quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand, as though embarrassed by the show of emotion. But when he looked back at you, his face was alight with something that could only be described as love—a deep, profound love that he rarely allowed himself to express so openly. He leaned in, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You never cease to amaze me, you know that?" he whispered, his voice still thick with emotion.

When he pulled back, he looked down at Astra again, and a soft smile spread across his face—a smile that was filled with a mixture of pride and wonder. He gently traced a finger along the baby's tiny hand, and when her fingers instinctively curled around his, he let out a soft, breathless laugh.

"She’s perfect," Astarion said, his voice filled with awe. "Absolutely perfect."

You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body beside yours, and together, the two of you watched over your daughter, named in honor of a man who had been through so much yet had found love and light in the most unexpected of places.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon, casting a warm amber glow through the windows of your shared room. You sat by the window, gently rocking the newborn in your arms, her small body bundled up in soft blankets as she slept peacefully. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion and exhaustion, but every time you looked down at your daughter, you were filled with a deep sense of love and pride.

Wyll had been nothing short of incredible during the birth—strong, reassuring, and steadfast, even when it seemed the weight of his emotions might overwhelm him. But despite his joy, you had sensed a subtle hesitation in him when it came to naming your child. He’d mentioned nothing specific, always deferring to your wishes, but you knew there was a name that held deep meaning for him, a name he hadn’t suggested because he didn’t want to push his own desires onto you.

You had been planning this surprise ever since you realized what name would mean the most to him. And tonight, after all the love and sacrifice he had shown, you were finally going to give him that gift.

The door creaked open, and Wyll stepped inside, his posture weary but his face lighting up when he saw you with the baby. His dark eyes sparkled with a mixture of relief and adoration. He had spent the day attending to his responsibilities, making sure the city was safe and handling the myriad of duties that came with being the Blade of Frontiers. But now, here in the quiet of your home, he was just Wyll, your Wyll.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, approaching you with a tender smile. “How are my two favorite ladies doing?”

“We’re doing well,” you replied with a soft chuckle. “She’s been sleeping soundly.”

Wyll knelt beside you, his eyes fixed on your daughter. His expression was filled with awe every time he looked at her, as if he still couldn’t quite believe she was real, that she was his. Gently, he reached out, brushing a thumb along the baby’s tiny cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Wyll whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Just like her mother.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. He had been so patient, so selfless, never once pressing his own hopes or desires. And now, you were ready to surprise him with something you knew would touch his heart in a way that nothing else could.

“I’ve been thinking about her name,” you said softly, watching as Wyll’s eyes flickered with curiosity. “And I’ve decided.”

Wyll’s eyebrows raised slightly, his face a picture of attentive concern, but also restraint. “Oh? Have you? I know it’s been a difficult decision, and I didn’t want to rush you.”

You held his gaze, feeling the love you had for him radiating in every word you were about to speak. “I’ve named her Francesca.”

For a moment, Wyll didn’t react. It was as if the name hung in the air, sinking into him slowly, its meaning unravelling. His eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. He stared at you, his expression a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

“Francesca…” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “After my mother?”

You nodded, your smile soft and loving. “Yes. I know you never mentioned it because you didn’t want to sway me, but I’ve seen the way you talk about her. I’ve heard the love in your voice every time you’ve told me stories about her, that your father passed down to you. I wanted to honor that, and I wanted our daughter to carry that legacy with her.”

Wyll blinked rapidly, as though trying to hold back the sudden rush of tears. He stood up slowly, his hand coming to rest over his mouth as he turned away for a moment, struggling to compose himself. When he finally turned back to you, his eyes were filled with tears, but there was a smile on his face—a smile so full of love and gratitude that it made your heart ache.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Wyll whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. “I never expected… I never thought…”

He knelt beside you again, this time more tenderly, as if the weight of your gift had overwhelmed him. Gently, he reached out and touched his daughter’s tiny hand, watching as her fingers instinctively curled around his. His tears finally spilled over, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, he looked at you, his eyes shining with gratitude.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice low and filled with emotion, “I will be the best father to Francesca. I will make sure she knows who her grandmother was, and I will teach her everything my mother taught me. I will protect her, love her, and cherish her, just like you’ve done for me.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will, Wyll. I never had any doubt.”

For a long moment, the two of you sat there, watching your daughter sleep, the room filled with the quiet warmth of your love and the promise of the future you would build together. Wyll wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he whispered into your ear.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “Thank you for giving me this gift. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

The next morning, a warm breeze filled the air as you and Wyll prepared to visit Ulder Ravengard, Wyll’s father, with your newborn daughter. The weight of the decision you had made—the name that carried such profound significance—still lingered between you both like a quiet, shared secret. Wyll had held you close the night before, murmuring his love and endless gratitude. Now, it was time to share that gift with his father, a man whose stoic exterior hid the deep love and pain of having lost his wife, Francesca, so many years ago.

As you dressed your daughter in a soft blanket, Wyll stood by, watching with tender pride. His hands trembled slightly as he straightened the collar of his tunic, clearly nervous about the conversation ahead. He hadn't told his father yet. No one knew of the decision except the two of you.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, his voice filled with love as he gazed down at you and your daughter. "Both of you."

You smiled up at him, sensing his anxiety. "She’s going to love hearing her grandfather’s voice. And she’s already wrapped around her father's little finger."

Wyll let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll have me wrapped around hers in no time."

With your daughter safely bundled in your arms, the three of you made your way through Baldur's Gate. The city was bustling with activity, the markets alive with voices and the scent of fresh bread filling the air. Wyll walked close beside you, his hand occasionally brushing your back in a quiet gesture of reassurance. You could feel the weight of the moment in his silence.

When you finally arrived at Ulder Ravengard's estate, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows over the grand stone steps. A guard greeted you and led you inside, where Ulder sat at a large, intricately carved table, maps and documents spread out before him. He looked up when you entered, his stern face softening slightly at the sight of Wyll and the baby in your arms.

"Father," Wyll greeted him, his voice steady but filled with something deeper—something reverent. He reached out, shaking his father’s hand before glancing nervously at you and the baby. "We wanted to come by and… introduce you to your granddaughter."

Ulder’s gaze shifted to you, and then down to the small bundle in your arms. His brow furrowed slightly, his usual unreadable expression slipping into something more curious. He rose from his chair, approaching slowly, almost cautiously.

"She’s beautiful," Ulder said quietly, his deep voice rough around the edges. "You must be proud."

"We are," Wyll replied, his voice tight with emotion. He cleared his throat, glancing at you before continuing. "There’s… something important we wanted to tell you."

You stepped forward, offering your daughter to Ulder. He hesitated for a brief moment before gently taking her into his arms, his hands surprisingly tender for someone so often defined by duty and discipline. He looked down at her, a soft light filling his eyes that you hadn’t expected to see in a man as hardened by war and loss as Ulder Ravengard.

"Father," Wyll began, his voice steady but thick with meaning, "we’ve named her Francesca."

The name hung in the air for a long moment, sinking into the room like a warm, bittersweet weight. Ulder’s hands froze as he held his granddaughter, his gaze locked on her small, sleeping face. His expression was one of shock, disbelief, and something much deeper—a pain that had never quite healed, a loss that had never truly faded.

"Francesca…" he whispered, his voice so low you could barely hear it.

Wyll stepped closer to his father, his hand resting gently on the older man’s shoulder. "We named her after Mother. We wanted to honor her memory, and… we thought it was the right way to keep her close to us, through our daughter."

Ulder’s eyes grew wet with unshed tears, his grip tightening slightly around the baby as though she were the most fragile thing in the world. He looked up at you, his gaze soft but filled with unspoken emotion, before turning his attention back to Wyll.

"I… I don’t know what to say," Ulder admitted, his voice thick with emotion. His usual stoic demeanor had cracked, revealing a depth of feeling that rarely surfaced. "It’s been so many years since…"

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. You could see the memories swirling in his mind, the image of his beloved wife, Francesca, whom he had lost far too soon, a loss that had left a permanent scar on both father and son. But now, here she was again, in a way—in the form of this tiny life, this new beginning.

Ulder blinked rapidly, as if trying to force back the tears that threatened to spill over. He looked down at his granddaughter again, his large hands cradling her gently as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Thank you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you both."

For a long moment, Ulder simply stood there, holding his granddaughter with a tenderness you hadn’t expected to see in him. He was a man of war, a leader, but in this moment, he was just a father and a grandfather—grateful for the chance to remember and honor the woman he had lost so many years ago.

Finally, Ulder handed the baby back to you, his eyes filled with something deeper than gratitude.

"Francesca," he repeated, his voice stronger now. "She will grow up knowing who her grandmother was. I will make sure of it."

Wyll nodded, his eyes shining with emotion as he looked at his father. "Thank you, Father."

As you held your daughter close, you couldn’t help but feel the depth of what you had given Wyll, and by extension, his father—a piece of Francesca’s memory that would live on, carried forward into the future. Wyll wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close as you both watched Ulder wipe away the last traces of his tears.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The soft murmur of the forest outside your home was a constant, soothing presence as you gently rocked your newborn in your arms. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a warm golden glow over the room. You sat by the open window, the scent of pine and fresh earth drifting in, mingling with the soft coos of your daughter. The world felt at peace in this moment, and your heart swelled with love for the tiny life you now held in your arms.

Halsin had been an incredible partner throughout your pregnancy. His calm, reassuring presence had been your anchor, his strength your shelter, but also his tenderness, that unshakable connection to nature, was ever-present. Now that your daughter was here, he had been even more attentive—both in caring for you and in gently bonding with your newborn. His large hands, capable of such strength, were so gentle with her, cradling her as if she were the most delicate thing in the world.

But even with all his devotion, you had noticed something in him over the past few days. A slight hesitation, as though something was on his mind that he didn’t want to burden you with. It was subtle—Halsin was never one to impose his feelings on you—but you could see it in the way his eyes softened when he looked at your daughter, a fleeting glance of something unsaid. You had a suspicion about what it was, but you had waited for the perfect moment to surprise him.

That moment had come.

The door creaked softly, and you looked up to see Halsin entering the room, his presence filling the space as always. His expression immediately softened when he saw you holding your daughter, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He approached quietly, as though not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere you had created.

"How are my two loves?" he asked, his deep voice as warm as the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"We're perfect," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just enjoying the quiet and some time together."

Halsin knelt down beside you, his large hand resting on the arm of your chair as he gazed down at your daughter with an expression so full of love it made your heart ache. He gently reached out to stroke her tiny head, his fingers brushing through the soft tufts of hair.

"She is perfect," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "Every time I see her, I am reminded of how precious life is… and how much I have to be thankful for."

You watched him closely, seeing that flicker of something unsaid in his eyes again. It was time to give him the surprise you had been waiting to share.

"I've been thinking about her name," you said softly, catching his attention. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, his expression attentive but patient.

"Of course," Halsin replied, a gentle curiosity in his tone. "It is important to choose a name that carries meaning, one that honors the spirit of life she represents."

You smiled, your heart racing a little in anticipation. "I’ve already chosen it. I’ve named her Thania."

For a brief moment, Halsin froze, his expression one of pure shock. His lips parted slightly, and his golden eyes widened as if he couldn’t quite believe what he had heard. He stared at you in stunned silence, as though trying to process the weight of the name you had just spoken.

"Thania?" he finally whispered, his voice so soft it was almost a breath. His hand stilled over your daughter’s head, trembling ever so slightly. "After Thaniel?"

You nodded, your smile tender and full of love. "Yes. I know how much he means to you. Thaniel was a part of your life in such a profound way, and I wanted to honor that. So, I thought… what better way to honor the bond you had with him than to give our daughter a name that reflects that connection to nature and life?"

Halsin stared at you, his chest rising and falling as emotion swirled within him. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the joy, the disbelief, the overwhelming gratitude that he struggled to put into words. His hand moved to cover yours, his grip firm but tender as if grounding himself in the moment.

"I…" His voice caught in his throat, and he paused, taking a breath to steady himself. "You’ve given her a name that is sacred to me. Thaniel was not just a spirit of the land… he was a part of my soul, a symbol of everything I fought for, everything I believe in. To name her after him… it is more than I ever could have asked for."

Tears welled in his eyes, though he did nothing to hide them. His usual composure was shattered by the depth of his gratitude and love. He leaned in closer, pressing his forehead gently against yours, his breath warm and shaky.

"Thank you," Halsin whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for this gift. You have honored not just me, but the land itself, the spirit of life. She will grow up knowing the importance of that connection."

You felt your own tears sting at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into his touch. "She’ll know, Halsin. We’ll teach her together."

Halsin pulled back slightly, his eyes shining with unshed tears, but his smile was radiant. He turned his attention to your daughter once more, gently taking her tiny hand in his and brushing it with his thumb.

"Thania," he whispered, testing the name on his lips as if savoring it. "You are a child of the earth, of the wilds. You carry a name that is tied to life itself, and you will always know the beauty and strength of the world around you. I will make sure of it."

He gently kissed the top of her head, his touch reverent, before turning back to you. Without a word, he cupped your face in his large hands and kissed you deeply, a kiss full of love, gratitude, and promise. When he pulled back, his eyes were full of nothing but adoration.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than words could ever express. You’ve given me more than I ever thought possible."

You smiled, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I love you too, Halsin. "

For a moment, the three of you sat there in the warmth of the fading sunlight, surrounded by the quiet serenity of the forest. Your daughter, Thania, was nestled between you and Halsin.

Halsin gently cradled his daughter in his arms, looking down at her with a sense of wonder and awe. His voice, soft and full of promise, carried through the room as he whispered to her, "You will grow strong, little one. As strong as the land itself. And I will be by your side, every step of the way."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SO WHOLESOME OMFG; my heart died numerous times whilst writing this. Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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bloodandoranges · 1 year ago

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Things the main BG3 characters love (Halsin included)

I came from the era of tumblr and fanfic where EVERYONE was writing imagines so this is sort of in the same breath…

Karlach / Shadowheart / Lae’zel / Wyll / Astarion / Gale / Halsin / 18+ though there’s not a ton of mention of spice

Karlach

She loves to touch you, any way she can. Holding your hand, playing with your hair, carrying you around… as long as she can feel you, she is content.

In camp, you sit in her lap as you eat and wind down from adventures, and strong, gentle hands run over your body… not in a lustful way — not usually — just adoring you.

Thought sometimes, she’ll slip her hand under your bed shirt, clawed fingers gently tracing over your side until you gasp and excuse yourself for bed…which Karlach eagerly follows.

Laezel

Lae’zel has never been fond of public displays of her affections; but alone? She loves to kiss you, to feel your hot breath against her face before your lips meet, fingers tangling through hair…

You feel lucky and privileged to see this tender side of her. The soft pecks in the mornings are just as special, as the two awaken from sleepy hazes, lazily smiles on your faces. She presses tender kisses over your neck and shoulders…occasionally, trailing down your chest, over your thighs… she loves your fingers tugging her hair, the way her name falls from your lips.

Shadowheart

(I apologize as she’s my baby girl but also the only one I haven’t seen a ton of romance stuff for but I tried with what I know!)

Whenever you hand Shadowheart a flower? Her heart skips a beat, cheeks instantly flush…simple gestures like that; a kiss given, a hand squeezed, all make her once dark heart flutter. She loves to be doted on, to know she’s utterly adored by her lover. Of course…she loves to dote on you too.

Quality time is important to her, she takes you on dates or private walks all the time…and sometimes? She takes you in the bushes.

Wyll

There is nothing he loves more than singing to you; more specifically? Writing songs for you…of course, he writes you sweet letters all the time, doting and adoring…but his songs? They’re always full of passion, something you can both dance to. He twirls you around the campsite, humming as he beams at you…eyes full of utter devotion.

He loves to pull you apart with his tongue, with his sweet words, and sometimes settled with your legs over his shoulders…

Astarion

He loves to praise you, to absolutely worship the ground beneath your feet. No god could ever compare to his love… Not that he’d really ever tell you that, of course. But it’s clear in his affectionate touches, the way he dotes over you. You are his world.

Of course, that extends to the bedroom. To be able to bring you to bliss; to have the choice? It’s everything to him…and he definitely doesn’t mind when you return the favour.

Gale

He loves to give things to you. Grand displays of affection are a daily occurrence with him. Bouquets of flowers too big to hold, a (magic) luxurious bed after a particularly rough day, cooking extravagant meals - when the only ingredients left /aren’t/ a single mushroom and an apple.

When you move in to his tower in Waterdeep? he takes you shopping, making the tower just as much yours as it is his, buying you extravagant outfits and trinkets and anything your heart desires; all while reminding you that you are worth far more than he could ever give you.

Of course, you give him plenty in return…

Halsin

You are sure no one on this earth could be more affectionate than Halsin. He loves to bask in the sunshine with you, often lazing around as a bear…enjoying just being with you. He loves showing you new things, teaching you and even learning with you… you bring light into his once shadowed head.

Though, there is nothing he loves more than a good old romp in the grass with you.

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avocado-writing · 8 months ago

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I loved your Pregnancy headcannons for the bg3 boys. I was wondering if you could maybe do more and possibly about weird Pregnancy Cravings. I'd think it be funny to have Tav (durge/vampire/or not) just suddenly have this strong craving to drink blood. Or maybe they came across something during their adventures that was just weird and now Tav craves that exact thing.

this made me think about weird pregnancy cravings for each of the bg3 men and how they’d react to you, so here we go. rated M. original

Wyll

You have normal cravings, thank the gods. Well, as “normal” as they can get.

Rich and bizarre foods. Filet mignon and sorbet, that sort of thing.

Maybe something a bit spicier if he’s been turned devilish by Mizora, but honestly nothing that counts as strange.

Wyll is a godsend. If you ever mention you have a craving then he goes and gets it for you, even if it’s late at night and you’re both tucked up in bed.

He watches you eat and gets you to give him a little food review! He listens and nods along; it’s playful and sweet.

Constantly whispering to your belly, “you have very odd taste little one… I hope you take more after me and have a normal palate…”

You laugh and shove him playfully, he is enamoured.

Astarion

It’s not exactly blood that you crave… but a raw steak looks super good right now.

He watches you eat rarer and rarer meat until it’s practically bloody off the bone. Pursed lips, looking at you from over the rim of his wineglass.

“Darling; are you sure that’s… normal?”

You gesture to him wildly with a fork. His eyes go wide, you don’t stop eating.

“You’re the one who fucked a dhampling into me, Astarion! I don’t know what’s normal! This is entirely new territory!”

He apologises and keeps the raw meat coming, taking very good care of you indeed. Even after you give birth, you never go back to anything above medium-rare.

Gale

When you’re pregnant with Gale’s baby, he comes home to find you with necklaces in your mouth. Magic ones.

At first it’s just the original talisman that you wore about your neck anyway, something with a charge of Cure Wounds in it, and you’d just end up with it on your tongue without thinking.

Soon it gets too much. You look at someone’s Boots of Brilliance and start salivating.

“This is your fault, Dekarios…” you mutter after he gently pulls a magic glove from your mouth like you’re a cat caught eating something it shouldn’t.

He apologises because, yes, clearly the netherese orb continues to have an effect.

Starts cooking for you more and channels the weave into the food he makes for you, so that you can satisfy your cravings without risking accidentally choking on clothing.

Mostly works… but still sees you eyeing his robes hungrily sometimes. Though actually you may just be checking out his arse.

Halsin

The need for honey has never been more compelling.

Oh, how you long for it. Directly from the source, thick comb to dance across your lips.

Halsin finds you with your hand in a beehive one day, a ward around yourself to stop any stings. He realises ah, he may have had more to do with your current state than just the act of conception…

Does his best to source you as much honey as he can and as safely as possible. You pour it onto him at night and lick it off, revelling in the taste of it just as much as the taste of him.

You long for salmon, too, if you can. He finds you trying to catch them in the river with your bare hands. It’s so sweet he can only stop and watch for a while before you roar - literally roar - for him to come and help you.

When the baby is born with little furry bear ears and a tail, the two of you think about that… wildshape night.

#Astarion x reader #astarion x tav #dadstarion #wyll x reader #Wyll x tav #Wyll ravengard x reader #wyll ravengard x tav #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale of waterdeep x tav #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x tav #Halsin x reader #halsin x tav #my writing

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littlelionwriting · 9 months ago

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Male Companions and Parenting

Here is some headcanons for the male companions (and Zevlor) for Baldur's Gate 3. This is a continuation of the Pregnancy headcanons I wrote previously. If you want to request anything just send me a DM!

Zevlor

His son is a spitting image of him except for his eyes, his eyes are your eyes.

When he holds him for the first time his son's tail wraps around Zevlor's wrist and he feels like his heart will burst.

He's a strict parent but he makes sure that his child knows that they are loved.

He wants to be there for everything, every step, and every word. He wants to be involved.

If his son starts to become interested in weapons or fighting it gives Zevlor a heart attack. He doesn't want that life for his son.

But seeing how important it is to him, seeing how his eyes light up when he is fighting, Zevlor makes sure he is properly trained. Nothing but the best.

He will constantly tell his son how proud he is of him.

"You should have seen him today, Sweetling. He was great. He will be amazing." Zevlor sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a grin on his face. "Our family is amazing."

Wyll

When he holds his daughter for the first time, he feels like laughing. His wonderful, beautiful daughter who looks like the perfect mix of the two of you.

He is the dad who has tea parties and helps paint her nails.

Wyll would gladly take her with him when he goes to train, showing her how to properly hold a (dull) blade the moment she is big enough.

He cannot tell her no; she doesn't even bother to ask you for something when she can go to Wyll instead and get what she wants.

The first time he sees his teenage daughter in a proper evening gown for a ball his heart drops cause he knows she isn't his little girl anymore.

He's not the best dancer but he does his best to teach her how to show up everyone on the dance floor.

"Darling, do you see her? Doesn't she look marvelous?" Wyll's eyes go from the dancing figure of your daughter with some noble's son to you as he takes his hand in yours. "Maybe we should take the hint and dance ourselves."

Astarion

His handsome son with his silver hair and red eyes but your skin color.

He is the only one who can get your son to stop crying as a baby. Not even being held by you can quiet the wailing child.

His son may be a troublemaker from the moment he could walk but Astarion would only encourage it. Very much an 'As long as you don't get caught' way of parenting.

Would have no qualms about teaching him how to pick locks or how to use a dagger. One must always be prepared according to Astarion.

He does not like his child being out at night without one of you, even as he gets into his teenage years. If he isn't home by sundown Astarion is ready to go out searching for him.

Astarion makes sure to encourage his son in anything and everything he wants to do. He would gladly buy the world if that is what was asked of him.

"He did well today, Lover. You would have been proud of him." You hummed softly in acknowledgement, not looking up from your book as Astarion walks over to where you sit in front of the first. He smiles before bending over and laying a kiss on the crown of your head.

"Of course, he's your son."

Halsin

When your twins are born Halsin swore they would ask for naught. Holding them both in his large arms to his chest as they slept.

Your son looked like you but had Halsin's hair and eyes while your daughter looked like a clone of Halsin just with your eyes.

Halsin learned early on to keep an eye on them, from the moment they could walk they were running off into the forest. They would often come home covered head to toe in mud.

He makes sure to teach them to respect all creatures, even the gross and icky ones.

It is not uncommon to find one of them on his shoulders. In fact, they often would fight over who got to ride on his shoulders so he had to make them take turns.

His son takes after his father, bringing home random critters much to his father's amusement.

His daughter is on the quiet side, liking to stay by his side and enjoy nature more than the company of people.

Would be over the moon when his daughter felt the call to being a Druid and his son a Ranger.

"You are so proud, Halsin." You walked to his side, taking his large hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand.

"More than you could ever know, my Heart."

Gale

Gale loves his daughter from the moment she is born but he is not a baby or toddler guy.

When he is left alone with her for the first time as a baby you come home to both of them crying.

He does his best which includes taking said daughter with him to any lectures he gives and when she babbles, he acts as if she is answering or giving input.

"Excellent point, Darling! Now, to continue..."

He makes sure she is dressed properly for whatever the weather and makes sure she is always in style.

Tara is her favorite babysitter hands down and Tara is more than happy to follow the young Miss around.

The first time she tells you and Gale she has a crush on someone you have to hold Gale back from threatening the poor soul with a fireball.

Gale makes sure to teach your daughter how to be proper and that includes how to rip someone to shreds with their words.

Gale puts a huge emphasis on education, he will make sure that she has the best tutors and will even tutor her himself if she asked.

"She is doing simply amazing, Dearest. You would never guess she has only been studying for a few years. I say she will soon surpass all the others in her class!" You gave your husband a soft smile as he continued to sing your daughter's praises, happy as can be.

Want to buy me a coffee or commission a short story? Find me here: https://ko-fi.com/littleleonlion

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cambion-companion · 1 year ago

Note

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #gale bg3 #shadowheart #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x tav #karlach #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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blkgirl-writing · 1 year ago

Note

Could you possibly do a Wyll nsfw head cannon please <3 I can rarely find anything for him and I’d love you see him in your writing. -⚫️

Wyll NSFW Headcannons

Wyll literally will not fuck until he’s practically madly in love, so sexual tension built up and was overflowing

And he hadn’t had any sort of sexual touch in a while

That being said, our poor baby couldn’t last too long your first time

Ten minutes tops (more like five), and he was trying so hard

But you were so beautiful and beneath him, and you felt so good

Literally an unbelievable amount of cum

“Is that usual for you?”

“No-I mean, no.”

I mean we all saw his dialogue

He basically has a dragon cock

He’s very good at both sensual and rough, though he’s not rough often

And would never do anything to hurt you in any way

Once he saw some dried blood from a previous battle on your arm and immediately sent into a panic attack because he thought he hurt you

And you immediately stopped everything to comfort him

Wyll knew then you were his, his one

He’s ask if you wanted to continue where you left off, and if you said yes he’d gently guide you down, and fuck your brains out slow and hard, many I love yous said

Ass man hands down

Nothing turns him on more than you bending over

But he doesn’t hurt you in any way, so he’s more of a grabbing guy than a smack, even playful

He couldn’t see his princess hurt

Absolutely the jealous type, but not obviously til you’re alone where he can really show you exactly where you belong, with him, especially with him inside you

His favorite compliment during sex us how strong he is. Outside of sex it’s probably how beautiful he is, as he can’t see that in himself yet in his new form. Or his old

Loves to literally sweep you off your feet as much as possible

Wyll is shocking good at dirty talking in his own way

“Are you going to cum for me, princess? Promise you’ll cum for me”

Yea I said princess melt here with me

And will always make you cum after he’s out

Basically tradition that he fingers you again after he cums inside you

He loves feeling his own hot cum inside you, what can I say

But for the most part, he cums on your ass

#wyll #wyll romance #baldurs gate wyll #wyll ravengard #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #bg3 wyll #wyll x mc #wyll x reader smut #wyll smut #baldur's gate iii #smut #x reader #fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate x reader

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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months ago

Text

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Reader) Part 1

Synopsis: You approach Astarion at the Tiefling party and get rejected. Everyone else and Astarion knows he made a mistake, but you certainly don't.

Author Note: I LOVE Shadowheart- okay. Love her, but she is also my favorite hot girl rival in my fiction. No idea why. I just also love the idea of her being best friends with a Selunite by the end of her journey (or ship her hardcore with an Oathbreaker Paladin)

CW: Sad boi rejection hours, mentions of sex, mentions of Dead Dove.

Based off of a post by @golden-baby

(I also listened to Avril Lavigne’s Nobody’s Fool while writing this and it’s very good if you haven’t heard it)

(IDK Who this gif belongs too, but it is not mine)

You have always been the first person to throw yourself into a situation and help others- it was what had drawn you to being a Cleric of Selune in the first place.

You miss being a young cleric studying the life domain under the stars and the bright moon. You miss not feeling so terrified.

All this tadpole has brought you is anxiety and fear, you have a feeling it will be okay. You are here for a reason and you trust that Selune needs you to trust her.

Meeting Shadowheart had certainly confirmed that- she obviously was plummeting down the wrong path, but she has also flipped this thinking on you a few times. Only, you cannot understand following a Goddess as cruel as Shar. She has obviously brought serious damage to Shadowheart’s life and you are determined to support her- whether she gets away from Shar’s doctrine now or fifty years from now, you will be here to help her when the time comes.

In spite of your differences, you actually go to the same spot and pray together- farther away from each other, but the sentiment is still there. Occasionally you drink together after a particularly weird or bad day. You find you both can talk about your religious beliefs and you are open to hers which in turn has begun to show her how to be open to your religious doctrine. It’s nice to have someone to talk about the bigger powers at play- even if that person opposes your Goddess so viciously. You don’t really care- you know followers of Shar are hurt people hurting people. They need love just as much as the next person.

Lae’zel has been a tougher nut to crack, but you have provided sympathy where you can and support her. You promised her that you would all head to the mountains and search for the Creché. If the cure is there- she will get it. That has made Lae’zel feel better a few times.

Karlach just wants a good life and to talk about the joys of Life, Gale wants someone to talk to about magic and help finding magic items, and Wyll just wants to feel accepted and like he is still the mighty Blade of Frontiers.

Then there is Astarion.

You have been head over heels for the man since he knocked you to the ground and questioned you. You could probably stare at him forever if it wasn’t so Gods damn creepy.

You practically bend over backwards to help him- far more than you do for others, anyhow. He seems to like you and you have definitely thought about asking him to go on a date with you at some point.

But then you think about how not romantic having a tadpole in your head is and nix the idea.

You listen to him whenever he speaks to you, any books you find usually end up going to him. Gale is still pretty upset about the Necromancy of Thay.

Any new short swords, daggers, arrows, bows, crossbows, armor, potions, etc- you name it, you probably already gave it to him. You often think you may be far too obvious with your affections, but it’s the only thing you know kind of appeases him.

Every decision you make he despises and makes a point of mocking you for. Karlach is often telling him to knock it off, but that usually just makes it worse so you just laugh it off even though it hurts. You just remind yourself that he lived as a slave for the last 200 years and you are the first to admit that your Goddess failed to save him. You don’t know why, but it is what it is. Maybe one day he will see that not all people are his ruthless master.

You also let him drink from you every three or so days. If he is injured in battle- you are first to offer him another drink.

Astarion calls you, “Darling '' from time to time and you thought that might be something, but you also heard him call Karlach and Shadowheart that too.

You feel so conflicted when you go to bed- he seeks out Shadowheart and never you at bedtime. He spends all night talking to her about Gods only knows what. You are certain some of it is mocking you, but you try to remain optimistic. He wouldn’t do that- you have been nothing but kind to him. What could he even say?

Tonight is the first night that he is by himself and not talking to Shadowheart. You can do it- just go up and ask him if he would like to take a walk with you. No big deal.

“Hi Astarion,” you say softly, “are you having fun?”

“No- no thanks to you, by the way.”

Your smile falters slightly, but you rebound.

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t trying to ruin your night.”

Astarion rolls his eyes and flashes a smile that makes your breath catch.

“I suppose it couldn’t be helped, Darling,” he says with a dismissive wave, “you and all your do gooder nonsense was bound to get us here eventually.”

You smile brightly- happy with the positive step forward.

“How rude of me- I forgot to ask- how can I help you this evening?”

This is the big moment- you can do it!

“I was-“ you clear your throat, take a deep breath and avoid his eyes, “I was wondering if you would want to go on a walk with me on the beach later?”

Astarion blinks a few times and you think you see the hint of a smile- it makes you feel slightly optimistic.

Until it turns into a snort and a laugh he can’t hold back.

“You are so naive,” your heart drops, “whatever gave you the impression that I would want to ‘go on a walk’ with you?”

You frown, a lump in your throat is beginning to form and you feel so embarrassed that you wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain yourself.

“I- you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I am glad we could clear that up.”

“Me too,” you say with a forced smile, “good night.”

“You don’t have to-“

You walk away- all the horror and heartbreak simply being far far too much to bear. How could you be so positively stupid?

Your mother always chastised you for this kind of thing- you give and give and give, hoping it will make people love you, but it never works. They will take everything from you and then some because they can.

You sit on an alcove overlooking the camp- far enough away that you hopefully won’t be spotted by anyone. You wish you hadn’t- you just barely catch a glimpse of Astarion dragging the all alluring and elusive Shadowheart away into the forest.

You are diminished to tears- your heart feels like it has splinters all over it and your stomach feels like it may twist before collapsing in on itself.

You are about to give up and leave, but the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention.

“It’s just me,” Wyll says with his hands up, a friendly smile on his face, “you seemed like you may need a friend.”

You laugh and wipe your tears away, “and here I thought I was hiding it so well.”

“You do, my friend,” Wyll says before putting a hand on your shoulder, “what troubles you?”

“You are going to think I’m stupid.”

Wyll laughs lightheartedly, “I have seen and done my fair share of ‘stupid’.”

You inhale deeply and tell Wyll your story- from start to finish. You are a crying mess by the end of it- so much so that Wyll actually maneuvered you and began cradling you in his arms.

His heartbeat helps steady you- the connection to nature and the ground is helpful. It makes it all feel a bit better- you suppose.

You eventually sit back down next to Wyll- your face is blotchy and red, tear stained and puffy.

“I have noticed that you give Astarion all of you,” Wyll says with a frown, “spirit, body, heart, and mind.

“Maybe it is time to stop- set some boundaries for yourself. I am sorry that you did not get the answer you wanted, but at least now you know and that is a blessing. You can now look for someone who truly wants you and gives equally as much as they take.”

You nod. You had hoped to hear more of a, “he will come around” message, but you know this is the better, healthier message. You despise it, but it’s true.

You and Wyll spend time talking about other things. You tell him how you hope to open your own clinic one day and help people who cannot afford it. Wyll tells you about the Sword Coast, his failings, and his own trauma.

He teaches you different constellations, the different flora in the area, and what the fishing season was like when the town was functioning and Wakeen’s rest was up and running. It sounds like it was a beautiful place to live before all of this nonsense erupted.

It’s fun and Wyll makes you feel seen and appreciated. He still isn’t Astarion, but you know it will take some time before you can look at someone else and that’s okay.

Wyll walks you back to camp and you don’t bother to look over at Astarion’s tent nor do you go that way like you usually would. You noticed he was back and so was Shadowheart. Both of their clothes were ruffled- it’s been at least two hours so you can only imagine.

“Good night, Tav,” Wyll kisses you on the back of the hand before engulfing you in a large hug that you gladly accept, “sleep well- tomorrow will be better.”

You go to your bedroll and begin to open your healing magics book when a knock on your tent post gets your attention. Maybe it’s Wyll. He did say he enjoyed talking to you, maybe he wants to spend the night? That doesn’t seem overly realistic though- he is a perfect gentleman.

“Come in,” you say, still not looking up, “what’s up?”

“I was hoping I may be able to get a small snack?”

Oh. It’s Astarion.

You just fed him earlier today before the party. Usually you would say yes, but Wyll is right- you can’t keep giving him everything and leaving nothing for yourself.

“I- I am really sorry,” he frowns and his ears even droop, “I am just really tired and I don’t-“

“No worries, Tav.” He says with a forced smile on his face, “have a good evening.”

You are shaking after he leaves the tent. You cannot believe you just did that. You set a whole boundary.

No he did not call you by a pet name nor did he flirt with you. Yes he frowned and it made your heart hurt, but you need to start putting yourself first.

You still cry yourself to sleep and you wake up early enough to wash your face with cold water- any evidence of your heartbreak is completely gone.

***********************************************

You have managed to really avoid Astarion for the last four, almost five days. You let him feed because you don’t want him to starve to death, but you found out that casting “calm” on yourself beforehand keeps your adrenaline from kicking up so you no longer react to him.

You cry afterwards, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that. He is right- he never did anything to make you believe he liked you and it was very naive of you to assume he did. However, you do commend yourself for your courage to try and you even walked away with your dignity.

At the end of the day, you are proud of yourself and you love yourself more than anything. You will continue your mission and continue to help people because you enjoy helping people. Right now, this group of weirdos needs you and you need you so that you all make it out of this nonsense alive.

That is more than enough to keep someone busy.

First there was a Hag to fight, then you unfortunately had to kill a monster hunter (you didn’t talk to Astarion about it afterwards, that is Shadowheart’s job), and fought a bunch of spiders off- which also brought up the Necromancy of Thay argument again. That was exhausting.

Astarion opened the door on a Bugbear and Ogre bumping uglies, you also had to really put your foot down so that he wouldn’t send a dark Gnome flying. He was quite frustrated with you, but he understood your reasoning enough to not do it.

Then there were the Gnolls and Astarion had opened the chest which caused the Zhentarim guild to attack and try to make you all explode. Thankfully you were able to save that weird artist, but no one from the guild survived. 10/10 supplies though.

There are things to be done and places to see. Exploring the Underdark first made the most sense. It upset Lae’zel, but she said she trusts your judgment which warms your heart.

It is certainly not a quick or easy journey to get to the entrance inside the abandoned temple of your Goddess. You can hear Shadowheart saying snarky things- Astarion snorts here and there, but doesn’t actually chime in for once.

At least you get some relief from that for a day. You wrap your hand around your Moondrop pendant and you already feel the love of Selune flow through you. You kept the statue as well and you keep it next to you- last night you actually slept with it in your hand.

You had grown up exceptionally poor and your parents died from some disease in the mines where you were all imprisoned. The mine was eventually raided by Selune clerics and paladins- you immediately knew that is what you wanted to be. Selune had saved you right before you were being shipped to another location and you lived with her clergy ever since.

You were grateful you had a potion of flying as well as the support of the others to keep the moonstone. Even Astarion expressed his approval when Shadowheart became upset. You waited until it killed the Minotaur, of course. The splash of blood that hit the group wasn’t necessarily welcome, but oh well.

And at least you don’t have a ridiculous name.

You snicker to yourself as you walk- earning an odd look from Gale who is covered in Minotaur blood. You urge him to keep talking about whatever book he finished last night and he gladly dives back into the subject.

Finding a decent spot to camp was actually pretty easy. The camp is beautiful and your tent is set up next to Karlach’s. She convinces you to make a massive tent fort and Fort Tavlach is born.

You pass a bottle of wine back and forth as you talk. Karlach is letting you hug Clive as you talk about the tiefling party and the aftermath of everything.

“Is that why those two are sitting next to each other so miserably?”

You cock your head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“What I mean is they look miserable and haven’t stopped fighting for the last three days,” Karlach states with a raised eyebrow, “have you really not been paying attention?”

You shake your head. Karlach gapes at you, chugging a bit of the wine before passing it back.

“Well- I have been waiting to tell you all day, but Shadowheart finally told me what they were fighting about.”

“Oh, Karlach, I really should-“

“Two nights ago, they tried to be intimate again and he said your name during the act itself.”

You simultaneously choke on and spit out your wine- some of it comes out of your nose. You can’t stop coughing and Karlach is dying laughing- she is crying she is laughing so hard. You are crossing your arms and uncrossing them in front of your face- a look of bewilderment as you process what just happened.

“mE!?”

This just makes Karlach laugh even harder, she goes running straight for behind a rock- screaming that she is going to pee herself.

The entire camp is looking over in curiosity and you just wave awkwardly. You catch Astarion’s gaze from the corner of your eye and he looks sad- maybe even a little angry.

He storms off to his tent and Shadowheart rolls her eyes, glaring at you before going off to her own tent.

Karlach eventually comes back and you both continue your drunken gossip.

“That- that can’t possibly be true,” you say, “I asked him on a date and he told me I was naive to think he would ever want to be with me that way.”

“What!?” Karlach looks like she may light the entire camp on fire, “why didn’t you say something! We could have-“

“No,” you chastise, “he is right. It was naive of me to assume- my hurt is no one else’s fault. I also chose to give him everything I had.

“He doesn’t owe me, I wanted to do those things,” you affirm, Karlach is smiling softly, “I still adore him, of course, but this is for the best, you know? Wyll says it means I can set my sights elsewhere now that I know Astarion isn’t into me.”

“That is very big of you. Look at you in your big kid pants.”

You roll your eyes and give her a playful shove.

“He has been hurt and used enough for a dozen lifetimes- I don’t want to contribute to that hurt.”

“You are a good person, Soldier,” Karlach hands you the bottle of wine, “you know- Halsin would be an amazing lover. I am sure of it.”

“You think?”

“Oh ho- let me tell you what I think, Soldier-“

Karlach goes into her wild theories and you try so hard to listen intently, but your drunken mind is stuck on Astarion and wondering if he is okay.

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