#baldurs gate is melting my brain

[phaedrinthefaire]

I saw a post recently about what could’ve happened to Arabella post-game, but what I need to know is what happened to Yenna.

tldr Larian tell me what happened to my girl wait nvm ik what’s canon to me

Did she stay safe in the Elfsong during the Netherbrain’s attack? How did she feel when all of her heroes left the inn one last time? Whose care did they leave her in?

And then once the dust settles and the fractured remains of the party come back to celebrate, what then?

Maybe after weeks of her helping in the kitchen, the Elfsong’s chef finally begrudgingly admits he’s impressed and takes her on as an apprentice, and she becomes Baldur’s Gate’s finest. She grows up as the gate grows back.

Maybe Rion meets her in the midst of celebration and sees a companion for Fig in her, and asks if she wants a quieter place to sleep. Elerrathin’s Home finds a new balance as she settles in. Slowly, she has a family again. A home.

The companions might have something in mind for her. In awe of Tav’s magic, she could admit she wants to learn, and Gale enrolls her in the finest wizarding classes in Waterdeep. Shadowheart decides a little extra help on the farm wouldn’t hurt. (Dad)Astarion, longing for rest, suggests quietly that she can come with him, just for a while. If she wants! That on the road they might find a little peace, if not a little adventure too. (In my hc he’d only be brave enough to suggest it if he’s with Tav but I digress.)

Maybe her path only crosses with the companions again once she’s a little older. Minsc meets her in the city and recruits her good heart in his quest to change the Guild. Wyll and Karlach or Lae’zel return to the gate and find she’s become a young adventurer, a Baldurian through and through.

My favorite of her potential fates ironically is what’s most likely to be canon—Halsin sees her after their celebrations. She’s so tired. Their fellowship is breaking, and so is her something of a family. He knows the exhaustion hovering over fear in her eyes all too well. He wants to see light in them again.

So he takes her with him. Back in nature, she learns how to be a child again.

Brb going to go cry over Yenna. I love that little girl.

(I know we’re not getting a BG4 from Larian at least, but imagine a little sequel where you play as Yenna a few years later. Or any of the kids—Mol, Arabella, Fig. That would be so special.)

[phaedrinthefaire]

this is so pure

a little self-indulgent comic :>

[lepusrufus]

I did say there's actual plot to this AU beside shadowzel bickering didn't I

[strigital]

Chase your dreams, and remember me, sweet bravery

'Cause after all those wings will take you, up so high

[goblins-trashbin]

Trying to draw tragic vampire man. I’m not sure it’s working. He slaying but not my hands :(

[astarions-darling]

The Devil's Game Raphael x FemTav Chapter One

Regency AU tags/warnings: no warnings yet. everyone is human. full of cliches :) words: 2323 read on ao3 via source

Miss Tav Larian fears she is running out of options. She cannot let her horrible Auntie Ethel force her to marry the Emperor—her distant cousin who has inherited Tav’s father’s title and estate. But there is no escape…her aunt controls all her inheritance until she either marries or turns five-and-twenty. She cannot wait that long… she has no time and nobody else will marry Tav—Auntie has seen to that.

She has no choice. A desperate plan has Tav sneaking into the House of Hope, the most notorious gaming hell in all of Faerûn, to take a chance at playing cards and winning enough money to escape her Aunt’s clutches.

But can she win the Devil’s game?

It’s Mills and Boon time, lads.

This story, while silly, contains spoilers for the game - mostly the Emperor and who he is.

Everyone is human in this story! But if you want to picture the Emperor as a mind flayer amongst a bunch of humans, go for it. Raphael and Haarlep are half brothers in this story so their relationship is much different to in game. It works better for me plot-wise.

This is also vaguely regency as it’s not historically correct by any means! It’s a world of its own, I suppose. Also I had to give Tav a surname and well…Larian seemed appropriate haha It sounds fancy!

Tav slinked across the wet cobblestones, trying to keep her dress from dragging across the ground—the edges were already wet. A barouche came around the corner at speed and nearly splattered her with mud but she quickly plastered herself against the stone wall of a nearby building. She held herself there a moment, breathing fast as she watched the carriage disappear down the street. Carefully she grabbed the skirts of her dress and continued down the dark street.

The thought of having to explain to Auntie Ethel how she’d ruined her dress was not something she wished to contemplate—she’d probably be locked in her room for a week as punishment if the old hag knew she’d damaged her clothes. Tav didn’t dare entertain the idea of what her aunt would do knowing how Tav had come to get her clothes in such a state. The young woman paused and shuddered at the mere thought. But Auntie Ethel would not discover this insubordination, Tav told herself, as she tried to keep hidden in the darkness of a nearby mass of shrubbery. She glanced down the street and took in the looming building that lay at the end of it.

The monstrous mansion that glittered impressively amidst the lit lanterns of the street was her destination. Even from this distance, Tav could see that the large windows in the building had most of the drapes drawn, but within the ones that were open, they flickered with candlelight and it was possible to catch a moment of movement as silhouettes passed by dreamily. It looked so inviting, so completely enchanting in the moonlight. But while Tav may not have grown up in the city proper, she knew enough that the look of this grand house was entirely deceiving.

Everyone knew about the gambling hell that was the House of Hope, not that anyone would admit to such profane knowledge. And certainly, nobody would let slip they had been there. It was the sort of place people whispered about in dark alcoves or behind their fans if they dared to mention it at all. Usually only the very wealthy or the peerage were allowed in, it was notorious for its selective entry and the things that went on inside...Tav was sure half of the rumours she’d heard about the wretched place had to be false. That had to be one of the only perks to living with Lady Ethel Pearl—that woman seemed to know everything and collected secrets like a squirrel hoarding nuts.

The building itself managed to sit along the bank between the lower and upper city of Baldur’s Gate; easy for those of little standing to be swallowed by and ostentatious enough for the worst kind of the upper class to dare set foot in. Tav knew that If you saw someone you knew in the House of Hope, you did not acknowledge it. You were there to play cards or engage in a game lanceboard, perhaps have a drink. That was all.

Tav watched another carriage trot by, this one at a more measurable pace, the hooves clattering happily against the cobbled street as she steadied her breathing. Her blood thrummed with nervous anticipation at the sight of the gambling hell. You had to be welcomed into the House and her plan to sneak in would surely not be met with any enthusiasm should she be caught. It was no place for a lady—though Tav had heard rumours about Lady Mizora frequenting it. Not that Lady Mizora had a care of being snubbed and was certainly wealthy enough to afford to not give a fig about the opinion of the ton. While Tav may not have been a lady, she had been the daughter of an Earl, before her father had passed. Her family name did mean something and it would damage her to be found in such an establishment. Her ruined reputation would be nothing more than leverage for Auntie Ethel.

Tav sucked in a deep breath through her nose and her eyes glazed over a moment at the thought of her father and the wretched woman he’d entrusted to care for his only child. It felt like she’d been trapped with Auntie Ethel forever. The woman wasn’t even her real aunt, she was her father’s cousin. Tav cursed the day that hag had appeared on their doorstep in the guise of helping her father through his long illness.

Poor Papa.

The street she’d been slinking down turned into a small alley, the end of which her destination glittered. She walked down it carefully, the uneven cobblestones wet beneath her feet. The small amount of gold she had secreted away felt heavy in her reticule as she navigated her way towards the House of Hope. It was not a lot of money, but it would be enough to play a few games of cards inside the house. So many years of playing with Auntie had taught Tav a lot about cards, especially because the old hag had a tendency to cheat. She felt she had a good chance at winning…it was her only chance.

Tav had heard that the Devil enjoyed having many of the high society deep in his pockets and the potential to win enough gold to leave Ethel behind was possible. The proprietor of the hell did not care so much who you were, as long as you had gold…or something of worth to offer if he had already emptied your coffers. He must have a name, Tav supposed as she walked down the alley, but she had only heard him referred to as the Devil.

“Eh, lass, whatcha doing ‘ere all by yourselves?”

The slurred voice startled Tav from her thoughts and she found herself in front of a short, elderly gentleman with a face like a walrus who had appeared out of the darkness. He belched loudly and Tav took a step back as he stumbled, an empty bottle held loosely in his hands before it clattered to the ground and rolled away.

“Young ladies shouldn’t be about all by ‘emselves.”

The man belched again and Tav tried to sidestep him but he grabbed at her cloak, his body swaying with the motion.

“Unhand me,” Tav demanded in the most direct voice she could muster. The man didn’t seem to be much of a threat. He had a melancholic air about him that had her add with a much gentler tone, “Please, sir, I must be going.”

The man peered up at her, his blue eyes bloodshot as if he’d been crying.

“Don’t go there, miss,” he said in a whisper, his eyes darting toward the House of Hope in the distance. “The Devil don’t take nothing.” He tugged on her cloak again and Tav feared the fabric would rip. “He don’t take nothing you ain’t giving. And he’ll make you gives everything you got.”

She managed to pry his grip off of her cloak and quickly hurried away, trying to ignore the prickling feeling at the back of her neck. She made it out of the alley, the cool evening air clinging to her fingers as a low mist settled itself in for the long night. The streets were bustling in this part of the city, though it always felt like Baldur’s Gate was never asleep no matter the time of day. In this busy crossing the streets were full and so she watched as people, some trying to be inconspicuous and some without a care, broke free from the flow of foot traffic to walk through the large open gate of the House of Hope and up to the front door. It was easier to blend in here, with so many people about—nobody was paying her any attention.

Tav knew she wouldn’t be able to get in through the Devil’s front door without an invitation. The large door was flanked by two guards, both looking burly and bored with their trollish appearance. As each new person approached, their name was checked on a ledger before being let in through the large and overly gilded doors. A glimpse of red velvet and glittering candelabras were seen before the doors closed once more. A moment later the doors opened again and Tav watched the guards hurl a man down the marble stairs and into a puddle left from the evening rain. Clearly, his name had not been on the list.

She knew there would be no ‘Miss Tav Larian’ on that list and so she had planned on how to gain entry. For several days she had perused the building on her walks. This wasn’t a bad place for a young lady to walk during the day, and she was never alone—her aunt had her accompanied by her personal maid, Mayrina, at nearly every waking moment.

But luckily for Tav, Mayrina was an utter goosecap. It was easy to persuade the girl to walk around these surrounding streets of the House of Hope on Tav’s daily walk and claim to be enjoying the architecture and surrounding gardens. All the while, Tav was taking note of the servant's entrance at the back of the mansion and how many people in service there appeared to be. She’d seen a few maids and footmen milling about; preparing horses, bringing in fresh food and loads of baskets filled with sheets.

So now it was easy to slip around the side of the building, searching for the servant's entrance she knew was there. When she spotted the open iron gate, she hurried through and was relieved to see nobody else. Quickly, she pulled off her cloak and hid it behind a nearby statue of an ugly-looking imp. She smoothed her dress down—she’d stolen a long apron from Mayrina and had tied it over her day dress—and fixed the pins in her neatly styled hair and put on the cap she’d also stolen from the maid. Her dress certainly was not the right sort of dress for a maid but with the apron and cap, she didn’t think anyone would notice her dress too much. Auntie was always talking about servants and how they were never noticed. Tav could never understand how Mayrina bore working for her.

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself, clutching her reticule tightly. 

It was with a sort of disappointed relief that she found the servant entrance door unlocked. If it had been locked, she could have told herself she had tried and then simply go home. But there was nothing stopping her now. She darted in quickly and waited for the inevitable shout from someone demanding who she was, but none came. There was a young man lounging nearby, idly smoking a grimy looking cigarette. He hastily put it out and looked at Tav with a guilty expression.

“Er, please, don’t tell Korrilla,” he said. “I just needed a quick break.”

Tav raised her chin. “I won’t say anything.” 

The man smiled with relief at her words and Tav tried not to run through the hallway. She passed a few others maids who nodded at her and she returned the greetings. Nobody had said anything! She could barely believe her luck so far, but she did not dare test it. When she came to a set of stairs she quickly ascended until she came to a door which opened with ease as she turned the handle. Creeping through, she found herself on a lushly carpeted floor that was empty of anyone else. Music and laughter greeted her and as she slinked further she realised she had come upon a mezzanine floor. Slowly, she walked forward and peered over the gold balustrade and down below. It was full of people! There were so many tables set up for all different kinds of card games and waiters were walking around with trays laden with champagne. It was like the most raucous soiree Tav had ever seen. She could even spy some men and women lounging together on a settee, sitting far too close than was proper and laughing as they clinked their drinks. Tav’s heart raced when she saw one man slide a hand so effortlessly under one lady's skirt—the woman didn’t even budge! She just laughed again, the feather in her hair swaying hypnotically before she gracefully stood and gestured for the man to follow. Tav watched them as they both drifted off together, arms intertwined, toward a large staircase.

Tav ducked back as the music from below swelled, and in the distance, a champagne cork popped. She’d spotted the cribbage card table and all she had to do was get down there and act like she belonged. 

Easy.

The couple had reached the top of the stairs and Tav watched as they disappeared behind a set of closed doors. She closed her eyes and prayed to any god that may hear her plight and possibly offer guidance. With nothing left to do but either flee or continue with this madness, she steadied her resolve and started to head for the large staircase. Her heart was racing. As soon as she reached the top of the staircase she would remove the apron and cap before stuffing them in a nearby vase. The closer she got the more panicked she became. But she couldn’t leave now. That odious old woman was so desperate to get her to marry the new Earl—her estranged cousin who just happened to be next in line for the title and also just happened to be Ethel’s son. Sometimes Tav wondered if the old woman had poisoned her father and addled his brains to even let him think to give that hag control over Tav and her inheritance.

Too lost in trying not to cast up her supper, Tav failed to hear the door open behind her.

“A lost little mouse is running through the house…”

[zevrans-remade]

yeah.... so i finally got to the start of act 3 and saw the reveal of the guardian/dream visitor's real self and i-

[alpydk]

Just carrying y hands in my Bhaalbag, don't mind me.

[phaedrinthefaire]

thanks @onlyancunin, this is my new favorite thing™️

+ Bonus:

Custom Astarion reaction badges - Part 2 / ? ______________

Today's batch is sponsored by all the reblogs & comments under the previous part, I am absolutely floored with the response. I read every single one, including the tags, and picked a few I liked.

It was something created on a whim, I thought long and hard if I should even post it, so thank you all the more for accepting my brainrot.

If you have more ideas and/or suggestions for the next batch - for Astarion or anyone else - let me know!

[phaedrinthefaire]

anyone else reload their first Tav’s epilogue sometimes just to feel something

[krembruleed]

something's cookingggg

[kitonmitons]

yall im gonna go insane. i have soooo much schoolwork and only two weeks of school left. for the past 4 days i have been running errands and doing schoolwork from the moment i wake up til i go to sleep. my adhd brain is killing me and i want to play baldurs gate So Bad. I'm GRADUATING in TWO WEEKS!!!!! (associates lol) and all i can think or care abt atm is how bad i need to kiss shadowheart in baldurs gate

[phaedrinthefaire]

THIS, Tav getting to know the companions with devastating accuracy. It just doesn’t make sense to them how well Tav knows them. Astarion and Lae’zel are suspicious. Gale is impressed. And in time it’s utterly heartbreaking for Tav, reintroducing themselves and fighting and dying for their friends over and over again, shouldering the burden alone, them not able to understand how important each of them have become to them.

The joy in successfully saving Halsin, because he kept dying in the goblin prison, and later kept getting stuck in the Shadowfel. Him being completely confused at Tav so ecstatically saving a stranger, but grateful. Wyll not understanding how chill they are when his pact with Mizora is revealed. Lae’zel agreeing begrudgingly when they convince her with just the right words to leave Vlaakith. They sound rehearsed. Karlach reflecting about Tav’s insistence that they stop everything to find this guy named Dammon, even though Dammon hadn’t the slightest idea who Tav was.

Gale thinks Tav has some sort of secret ability to detect magical objects, because they know exactly where to find dozens, and hands them over willingly. Shadowheart doesn’t like the sad look Tav gives her (that Tav can’t help after experiencing the House of Grief). Astarion is the most suspicious of them all, but he can’t place how Tav could possibly know everything. In loops where Tav tells him they know he’s a vampire and points him towards the best places to hunt, he comes the closest to figuring it out.

And that doesn’t even cover romancing.

Each loop could have elements of different playthroughs with different decisions, since Tav is trying to figure out what works. In time they see the consequences, they see what matters. What matters. How is their morality affected by seeing the patterns and consequences? Saving Isobel is possible but not crucial. Whether they save the grove or destroy it, it all leads to Moonrise. If they help Yurgir he’s freed, but it’s unclear if Astarion ever will be now. If Gale uses the orb in the colony…the loop keeps going, as if...But that’s not acceptable to Tav. Because Gale matters. So they begin again.

They try to be colder in some loops. Tactical. They hold the companions at arm’s length, and try to be all business and strategy.

But it never works, in the end. They’ve too deeply engrained themselves in Tav’s neverending life. They’re family from the blank, lack of recognition in their eyes straight off the nautiloid to the moment they’re dying, again, in Tav’s arms, gazes raw with pain and love.

Umm anyway…you can see I really like this idea x

I have a new idea for a Baldur's Gate 3 fic.

Apologies if someone has already done this.

Ok, so basically, Tav (or whichever companion you want to center) is stuck in a time loop. Every time they die, they wake back up in the mind flayer pod on the nautiloid. Maybe on the first loop, they don't even make it off the nautiloid. Then, during the next loop, the weakened mind flayer in the crash site gets them. Then, on the third loop, they die during the goblin ambush outside the grove.

Every time they come back, they get farther than they did last time but they still keep failing.

For some extra angst, throw in a few loops where they willingly take their own life to reset after one of their companions dies because of their actions. And if you're really feeling spicy, maybe have the companions start to remember bits and pieces of previous loops.

I also think it would be interesting if Withers had full knowledge of the loops but was forbidden to speak of it to Tav, so instead, he offers advice and acts as a source of comfort for Tav.

[ajokeformur-ray]

The breeze seems to whisper 'I love you' // Astarion x gn!reader / Tav

This is my first Astarion fic so I really hope I bring him justice; he deserves that and everything else which is good in life. It took me three days in total to fall head over heels for him, and this piece is dedicated to @ace-tarion for being such a sweetheart in this, as in everything. I love you, dude!❤️

I haven't played BG3, I know maybe 80% of the plot (tadpoles in brain = bad = travel to Baldur's Gate), I've watched a ton of Astarion clips, so apologies for any inaccuracies or inconsistencies. I'm just here for Astarion (though I'd love to play BG3, I don't have any technology capable of running it💔).

Content: You/Tav x Astarion (established relationship), canonical past for Astarion is hinted at and laced within narrative, cuddles, animals referred to as 'snacks' within mentions of Astarion (only a mention; no actual description of animal-feeding/mentions of anything pertaining to animals being fed on).

Summary: Night-time falls, your heart sinks into your stomach as surely as your body sinks into your bedroll, and you want cuddles from Astarion.

Word count: 1, 624.

I am accepting requests for Astarion ❤️ no smut and no pregnancy/birth/kids!!

You lay on the cold, hard ground. The earth is unforgiving, soaking up the day's sweat without offering any kind of reprieve. Stones and hard clumps of dirt dig into your back through the bedroll, the wind is slightly too cold and it penetrates your thin blanket, haphazardly thrown over you in an attempt to ward off the elements.

Everyone has a tent, except you, and you make it a point to lay as close to the fire as you can on the nights Astarion is out hunting; it wouldn't do to help yourself to his tent. He keeps his tent away from the others, though still adhering to the semi-circle layout chosen by the others around the campfire. He would not mind you letting yourself in to his tent, he would likely welcome returning to you there, and yet you cannot justify it even to yourself.

After two hundred years of shit, pure shit, he deserves every ounce of privacy and the security of knowing his tent is his own.

You sit up just enough to shuffle yourself closer to the fire, curling inwards as a shiver wracks your body. It isn't cold, necessarily, but your temperature is not conducive to a restful sleep. You lay on your back, gazing up at the stars which punctuate the sky, breaking up the inky black and blues with pinpricks of white, yellow, and some dull spots of grey from the stars which died many eons ago and are now fading from the sky.

You promise yourself you'll try to remember their placement in the sky.

Despite the best of intentions, you know that you won't.

Your vision goes blurry at the edges as you continue staring up at the night sky, looking for any constellations you recognise by way of finding yourself a bedtime story to recount as you try to fall asleep. The leaves on the trees sway gently in the breeze, and your mind wanders, as it so often does, to Astarion. Your sweet vampire, who simultaneously breaks your heart and put it back together in the same moment every time you uncover more of who he is, more of his past.

Oh, but you love him.

Of its own accord does your body take a long, deep breath in, your heart sinking into your stomach as surely as your body melts into the bedroll. All of your thoughts of Astarion and all of your feelings for him are safe inside yourself, and they serve you now in warming you from the inside out.

Your eyes slide closed, and if you press your forehead closer into your blanket, you can almost tell yourself that you can feel Astarion lying down beside you, you can smell bergamot and feel his silver hair tickle your cheeks, you can feel his fingers intertwined with yours, your legs tangled together, his crimson eyes upon your face so intently fixed like he's scared to blink in case you disappear before his eyes, leaving him clutching only the cold night air, his equally cold body pressed against every line of yours...

You smile to yourself and burrow deeper into your blanket, feeling sleepier, warmer and closer to your rest by the second. Thoughts of Astarion flood your mind and you curl up tighter, as if to keep all these thoughts right where they are. You know if you open your eyes that you'll be alone; you know not where Astarion is this night, but you know he is trying to sate his hunger with the snacks which live in the forest.

So you keep your eyes shut.

As you allow yourself to slip further into your threshold consciousness, you wonder what Astarion would say to you if he returned at this very moment...

"Hello, sweet. Gods, you are beautiful."

You smile again and squeeze your blanket ever tighter to you. Yes, he would probably say something like -

Wait.

Wait.

Was that - ?

With great caution do you open your eyes, ready to slam them shut again once you see that Astarion isn't there, that he didn't just speak to you. But instead of the cold hard truth slamming into you, flowers bloom in your heart because Astarion is here, looming over you, his silver curls seeming to be glowing in the soft moonlight. His crimson eyes seem black, his charming smirk soft at the edges as he gazes down at you with obvious fondness, vulnerable such as it is.

Of all the stars above me, this one's the prettiest, you think to yourself, and you open your eyes wider to better enjoy the view.

Astarion's smirk melts until it becomes a smile as he kneels down beside you, one of his arms reaching out to brush a leaf away from your face. His fingers ghost across your skin, and you shiver. "Thank you, darling. I know I'm beautiful. Not enough people mention it." His joke fades into vulnerability, as it so often does around you.

But it is no matter. You always meet him where he is, and right now it is no exception.

You smile at Astarion, all of the love for him shining in your eyes until they look like molten galaxies, and he swears he feels his heart, which stopped working centuries ago, skip a beat. You are unguarded where you lay in your threshold consciousness, not embarrassed to have spoke aloud your thoughts, and Astarion wonders if the old saying, that love makes fools of people, is true. You lay at the foot of a vampire, at the foot of a predator, smiling at him, physically and emotionally vulnerable, completely unguarded. Most others at the camp are asleep, Astarion can hear, and yet here you are...

Wait. Why are you awake?

"Darling," Astarion's voice is a hush and you strain your ears to be able to hear him. He bends closer to you to accommodate, anticipating your needs before you fully register them yourself, "Why aren't you sleeping? No harm shall befall you when I'm here." Long ago, he had sought your protection, but now he wanted you both to be safe. If this is how the mighty fall, then Astarion must admit that he is happy he lost his balance. He quite likes the view from down here.

You shake your head and shuffle closer still, unable to get close enough to your most beloved vampire. "Can't sleep without you." I just want to be held.

Oh, help him, but this is devastating in its simplicity. His undead heart bleeds and words have brought Astarion to the point where they run dry. Instead, he stands, and reaches a hand out to you. The message is clear - he wants you to accompany him to his tent, he wants to carve a piece of heaven out with you amongst all the chaos unleashed, he wants to hold and to be held.

Astarion just wants you, and who are you to deny him?

One of your hands slips into his while the other pulls the blanket away from you and Astarion's smile widens as he effortlessly pulls you up to stand beside him. You bend to scoop up your bedroll, and follow Astarion into your tent. The door flap flutters in the wind as Astarion releases it, and it settles in place like a butterfly finding a flower.

You find yourselves easily, your bedroll dumped next to Astarion's, pushed up close until his bedroll becomes a double. It's a well established routine for the two of you, with you spending more nights here than you don't. You never enter his tent if he isn't here, and you certainly never come in without his permission. One day, Astarion will find the words to convey his appreciation for your concern, but until then, he will remind you at every chance he finds that you are always welcome. He finds it greatly ironic that you seek permission to enter space and he, a vampire, does not. He knows he is welcome, wanted, cherished, loved.

It took some work for the both of you to get here, but his months with you are the counterweight to the hell he escaped from.

He'll never be able to thank you enough, he has no idea what he is doing, but perhaps this is a start.

Somehow, through the fuzziness of denied sleep, you end up back in bed, your blanket around you and Astarion's still chest under your head. He lays beneath you like he is patiently waiting for you to make yourself comfortable, and you take the opportunity to wind both of your arms around his waist and squeeze, pulling yourself up just enough to be able to bury your face in his neck. One of your legs slips between his, anchoring the two of you together.

Slowly, like he's afraid to move too quickly in case you disappear within his grasp and leave Astarion holding nothing but the cold empty night air, his hands settle upon your back and a sigh which seems to come from deep within him spells peace for the both of you. "This is nice," Astarion's voice rumbles through your ear and you press yourself ever closer to him, unable to get close enough. Your arms constrict around him again and you feel yourself smile as all those sleepy dreams you were having earlier are now here, beneath you, wrapped around you. As you hold on tighter, so too does Astarion, until the two of you are so completely intertwined that the elements cannot reach you. He has no body temperature and yet you are the comfiest and the warmest you have ever been.

Safe.

This time, Astarion doesn't tell you that you accidentally spoke your thoughts aloud.

[fullmoonandstar]

Common Interests

Gale x gn Tav / Reader

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3

Rating: T

Word count: 1.3 k

CW: Dyslexia, vague mentions of past trauma

Summary: Your crush is well-read and you want to be close to him by picking up a book. It would be a good strategy if reading wasn't so hard.

Or

Dyslexic gn Tav/Reader wants to impress Gale

A/N: inspired by this post

You were so concentrated on the task at hand that you didn’t notice the footsteps behind. You had found a nice secluded spot a bit away from the camp and settled on a fallen tree to continue your reading as you had done for the past few days.

“What are you doing?”

The question carried a smile, but you jerked, and the book slipped out of your hands. Gale snatched it out of the air, and you grasped at nothing.

“Hmm … an interesting read you have here. I would recommend following up with Sara Ibb’s take on the topic. They give a more balanced view.”

You felt your face burn and prayed to the gods that Gale was too distracted by your choice of book (you had found it in the cellar of an abandoned house) to notice.

He rattled on about the nuances of using weave grass in potions, and you could not help but let the corners of your mouth creep upwards. Gale’s enthusiasm made your insides feel all warm and soft.

“Oh, I totally lost you in the barrage of words. I …” Gale laughed nervously. “How did you like the book?”

“It was good.” you said a bit too quickly.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he looked at you suddenly intrigued, as if you were a puzzle to be solved.

“Come, my friend, what did you really think?”

You panicked. What would be an acceptable thing to say? Your heart beat faster, and you were stuck between wanting to flee and not being able to so without making a bad impression.

The seconds dragged on, but no words left your mouth. Gale watched your silent struggle for another heartbeat before sitting down next to you and waited.

"It’s hard to read." you said finally. Gale’s brows furrowed and you stammered an explanation. "I can understand it, I can read, but it’s so difficult to read.

"Why?" Gale asked softly. The ball of anxiety and embarrassment was melted away by his warm presence. You had been so caught up in your own head that you had forgotten how save Gale made you feel, like you could tell him everything.

"I’m not sure how to explain it." you paused to think. "It’s like the letters come in and out of focus, like they move around on the page if I don’t give it all my attention."

Gale nodded slowly in the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t look at him. You had never told anyone about this and if you were honest, your school days and the embarrassment that was your inadequate reading skills were still hanging in the back of your mind.

"I hope you don’t think me rude, but why are you reading that if it’s hard for you? I remember you saying you are not big on books."

Now he had hit the target, the big question.

"Which is understandable for someone with your condition."

"My condition?"

"Dyslexia, from the sound of it."

"Is it fatal?"

Gale laughed, and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"No, and it’s not contagious either." He smiled at you, the sweetest thing you had seen in a while.

"As far as we know, it stems from individual difference in how the brain works and has nothing to do with intelligence or lack thereof. People with it have problems reading or writing, in various degrees of severely. It’s pretty common, but before when reading was a skill not many were allowed to learn, we didn’t notice that about 1 in 10 people has problems with it. You should have seen Val, their writing was atrocious but a very fine wizard indeed." He smiled wistfully. "You have nothing to worry about."

You looked at the book in your hands in a new light. Since your school days, you had struggled, but now at least you had a name for the trouble you had.

"Thank you, Gale."

Your eyes met, and your heart skipped a beat. He looked stunning just sitting next to you, and a warm wave of affection rolled over you. You opened your mouth to say something when Gale leaned over. For a moment, you thought he would kiss you, but he reached out and took the book.

"Do you want me to read it to you? Or maybe something else? I have a collection at my tent." He gave you a bright smile while you still recovered.

Snap out of it, you told yourself, you’re acting like a love sick puppy.

"Choose whatever sounds interesting."

"You want to read to me?" you said when your brain had caught up.

"Yes, I do enjoy the sound of my own voice, and you seek knowledge."

Gale was someone who talked a lot, but you would be lying if you said you did not like that about him. It was his openness that drew you in, in the first place.

He studied your face and added: "That’s very attractive."

A twig snapped behind you and both, you and Gale jumped.

"There you are!" Karlach appeared with a leaf in her hair that was sizzling.

"Food is almost ready, let’s get back before we eat everything without you."

Shadowheart was not a chef cook by any means, but she and Wyll had a good tag team on the hearth. You ate with gusto, and forgot all about your conversation with Gale.

After dinner, he came over and said:

"My offer still stands. If you'd like, you can come over at any time."

"Now?"

"Sure, come." He held out his hand to help you stand up from the log you were sitting on, and you took it.

Gale had not been lying about the collection he had.

"You carry all this in your bag?!"

"Not technically, I have this pocket dimension…"

"Wizard stuff."

He laughed.

"Yes, Wizard stuff."

You found a book that sounded interesting and handed it to him.

"Ah, yes, I could have known this one would pique your interest."

Gale sat down on his bedroll, and you sat next to him.

"Strap in, you will love this. Such a good read."

————————-

When you opened your eyes, you panicked, not knowing where you were and why you felt so warm. This was not your tent, and you lay under a blanked with a warm body pressed to you, an arm holding you in place. The memory of last night came back to you. Gale reading to you, and you were slowly shifting from a sitting position to lying down on his bedroll. At some point, you must have drifted off to a dreamless sleep, the first one since your infection.

Gale stirred, nuzzling your neck sleepily before freezing.

"Oh, I’m sorry." he said and began to pull back, but you caught his hand as it retreated.

"Don’t." You pull his hand back into the position it was, you tight in his arm and his body pressed against your back. "It’s nice. Let’s stay a bit longer."

He said your name, and you looked over your shoulder. His hair was in disarray, but it made him even more endearing, not less.

"Why did you start reading books?"

He had asked the question that you had not answered the day before, and it seemed he already knew the answer.

"There is this person I like, they are really smart, and I wanted to be closer to them. To him."

Gale shifted until you were on your back, facing him. You noticed the little wrinkles the pillow had made on his face but also the fullness of his lips. His eyes studied your face and got caught by your lips.

You reached out and ran your fingers from his temple down the side of his face through his soft beard. Your hand on his chin, you nudged him to lean in, and he followed your request.

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[lelianasbong]

I'm gonna CHOKE, this is beyond beautiful. Thank you for sharing this gorgeous piece of art - I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic!

BG3. Wyllstarion. Inspired by the fic "Hear You Me" by @ghastlytofu which does such a lovely job of its core concept from both POVs that I didn't even properly leave a comment or bookmark it yet 'cause apparently I went straight to picking up my pen.