#i knew bg3 would be a problem

[scribbledquillz]

....I stg I'm not dead.

I just sold my soul in a pact with Larian Studios. I give them undying devotion, they give me a charming roguish vampire with a tragic past, a soft hearted teifling barbarian with a (literal) ax to grind, and a beefy druid bear man who's down to clown.

[veilkeeper]

on one hand i want bioware to release full on dating profiles for all the companions ahead of time so i can thoroughly vet who im gonna kiss. on the other hand i want the organic experience of playing the video game with as few spoilers as possible and tripping over myself because of a lame dude i dont know anything about

[madwomansapologist]

Hi, are you still looking for Baldur's Gate 3 requests? Could you please write something about the main BG3 Companions (+ our boi Halsin) with a Tav/reader who's really short and adorable and just an absolute sweetheart but is horrifyingly powerful in their lore? Like NPCs who know about them back away in fear kinda thing. Maybe Tav can even transform into some sort of battle form where they're like 9 feet tall (as opposed to their usual height of like 4' 10") and can absolutely kick ass on the battlefield?

Thanks so much, I hope you have a wonderful day! Take care!

bg3 companions with a adorably powerful tav

Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: Who could imagine such a sweet thing as you had the reputation of a hero?

warnings: companions (lae'zel, shadowheart, astarion, gale dekarios, wyll ravengard, karlach, halsin, jaheira) x tav. fluff.

note: thank you for your request! oh gods how i missed writing headcanons. i hope you like this, have a wonderful day!

Lae'zel

Lae'zel knew your shared condition had a cure, and was willing to put herself in danger by taking the entire party with her to the nearest crèche. That being said, how couldn't she judge you?

You were too easy on everyone. Making promises you clearly shouldn't, taking them seriously despite her best efforts to put some sense in your head. The party was supposed to only stop walking when surrounded by githyankis, but no burdened tiefling or hurt animal escaped your careful gaze.

That you knew how to fight surprised her, but to see fear and admiration in the eyes of civillians... that made Lae'zel pay more attention to you. You had a reputation. Not as a writer, bard or patron. You're know for striking down your enemies.

Fighting at the goblin's camp, there were so many oponents even Lae'zel didn't knew if it would be her last fight. You saw it too, so you made sure to use everything you had to win. Even if you would rather not turn into an eldritch creature.

She got enchanted by your battle form. Steel and iron where nothing against the pure strenght of your skin. Whatever crossed your path that day suffered at your hands.

That was the first time Lae'zel got happy for being wrong about someone.

"Perhaps I've judged you too hard. You are fierce, foracious, as sharp as my sword and as brave as a red dragon. Keep on surprising me and a istik you'll be no more."

Shadowheart

Shadowheart couldn't care less about the tieflings and their problems, but it was endearing to watch you wandering throught the Coast in an attempt to ensure their safety. It was a sight she couldn't expect to observe in this journey, not when considering the worm twitching behind her eye and the artifact messing with their dreams.

Still, you could shut down her biggest fears with ease. While she tried to remain quiet, you were full of kind words to share with whoever was near. You care for all beings, great and small, and Shadowheart can respect that. A person without a truth to follow is empty, but one with a mission turns into so much more than just a walking corpse.

She focused on protecting you during fights. Always giving you some sort of magic shield, casting sanctuary, begging you to drink potions and elixirs that would keep you safe.

Goblins attacked, and for a second everyone was too surprised to react properly. Except by you. You were quick to defend your party, to fight for them, and won a fight no one was preparad to.

Shadowheart decided not to underestimate you again. Kind words, gentle actions, caring gaze: she was so focused on her own view about you that forgot to pay attention to the way everyone else saw you.

You're powerful. The kinda of powerful that their party had to be grateful that you were fighting besides them.

When you revealed your beast form to her, Shadowheart already knew you were a sight to behold.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you? Good. I like how you keep me on my toes, love."

Astarion

In theory, he should've been delighted with your personality. You were the perfect prey. A leader so sweet, he could change your mind at his will and you wouldn't even noticed. Others respect you. Astarion would be safe and sound.

But Astarion isn't capable of forgetting how easily you fought back when he tried to fool you. How he didn't even saw you moving, and was alone on the floor before he could understand what had hit him.

Instead of a person, you were a walking question mark. How can you be so sickenly adorable, and still so ready to strike down your enemies? Were did the sweet half of you finished and the other one started?

People know you. He saw respect in druid's eyes, fear when goblins heard your name. Halsin knew about you. And so did Minthara.

Few are able to live up to their reputation, but you're one of those. So strong, so brave, but your kindness wasn't ignored by him. It was as if in your head the whole world deserved your kindness, until it did no more. Only then you react.

Astarion don't know what to think about it.

When you attacked as a beast, tearing spiders apart as if they were a piece of meat in your plate, Astarion laughed until his belly ache.

How could be so right and so wrong about someone?

"Don't mind me, darling. I'm just rejoicing at the sight of your bloody hands. Come here. Let me taste your heroic mess."

Gale Dekarios

Gale learned two things about you when you pulled him out of stone: you were kind, and so damn strong.

You were adorable. A perfect equation between what people must do in order to survive and what they must do in order to live well. He can't see you not being surrounded by friends and admirers, all enchanted by your sweet words and rightful attacks.

He feared the party's reaction to the Orb, but a part of him knew you would let him stay. He never imagined you would give him magic artifacts without a second question, or that you would hug him after he told you his whole story.

You didn't let him go. Neither did Gale.

To say he was willing to agree with whatever you did was to say his heart beats. It was only natural. Maybe you both differ on the path you want to take, but the destination is usually the same.

When he saw you feral, body changing to give space to something else, Gale wondered if he was one of those enchanted people surrounding you. If he wasn't fighting for his life, Gale would gadly gaze upon you for the rest of the day.

"Disgusted? I was unable to look away from you! You are the one I love, no claws or tentacles will ever change that. Must I add, my love, your light remains strong in whatever form you decide to use."

Wyll Ravengard

To say the least, he's a fan. Oh, how lovely are the tales of your adventures through Faêrun. He remember arguing with bards about the accuracy of their versions and the reason behind their choice of words. You were what a hero must aim to.

How long were the nights he spend wandering after he was casted out of Baldur's Gate. Lonely nights, but never silent. Wyll's mind fought against itself. He lost everything to help and protect others. Sometimes he worried if he had lost himself too.

Your tales weren't his salvation. None of them shut down those voices that insisted on telling him about the mistakes he made, neither did them shut Mizora. But they inspired him. If you did all those things, remained human even as a beast, he could survive a talkative cambion. Wyll Ravengard can defeat her by staying loyal to himself.

Wyll didn't had to hear your name to know you were fighting next to him, defending the grove against goblins and worgs. He saw enough drawings of you to recognize you from miles afar. When you asked him to be a member of your party, Wyll felt as if a million fireworks exploded inside his chest at the same time.

He did felt anger and pain because of the tadpole, but never fear. Fighting beside you, Wyll knew he didn't had to fear for his future. And after seeing how willing you were to argue with multiple cambions, he started to have hope.

"I used to read about legends, myths of bravery and rightousness. Some see it as just tales for the naive. Thank you, my heart. For proving them wrong time after time."

Karlach

She's the only one with an excuse for not knowing who you are. When strangers call you by your entire name, when companions use your epithet: Karlach just never thought about it. She ignored it, paying no mind to others.

But Karlach did knew you were a absolute sweetheart. What you didn't had of height you compensate with a gigantic personality. For her, the way you behaved was simply alluring.

While many prefer to think the world is a bad place and no one living there can chose to be or do better, you are just another reason for her to know that it's bullshit. Because Karlach is good, despise it all. And Wyll. And you.

And Minsc!!!

You had a fire on you whenever you had to fight. She didn't need to know your story to see how great you can be. Some people just have that. She don't know if that fire is born or forged, but some people just have it.

To see you as a beast made her the most happy woman in Faêrun. She got speechless, all she could do was laugh and run around to have a better view of you ending the Steel Watch.

"You got 'em, soldier! Go on, bite his arm off! You see that monster over there? The one with glowing eyes. That's the love of my fucking life."

Halsin

He saw you before. Druids and harpist fought against sharrans, and you were one of the heroes who joined their cause. At that time Halsin didn't talked to you, but he knew you fought until the very end and stayed to help with the infirm.

When you rescued him, Halsin knew you remembered him too. There was some understanding between you both, a companionship that only those who foght together can share.

He knew you were a hero, one of those who fight wars that don't affect them because someone needs too, but your personality was a good surprise. Halsin haven't imagined you so easy going. Always offering smiles, light jokes, being clumsy without a care when danger was far away.

After the battle against sharrans, he thought those who refered to you as a monster were trying to make others understand how eficient you were. It surprised him to see they were just being honest.

Nothing would stop Halsin from turning into a bear and joining you.

"In this damned city, you are a beacon of hope. The Oak Father graced us with your light. From your fiece strikes to your honey soaked words... I am lucky to live at the same time as you, my love."

Jaheira

As a fellow adventurer, it surprised Jaheira that you weren't already tired. You both lived for so long, did so much, it would be only natural for you to give a pause on your endless smiles and envied patience. She was wrong, but that wasn't a bad thing.

Jaheira knew how this life can steal things from you. Peace feels like a threat, to stop make you feel like a prey, to laugh makes you wonder if it will be the last time. Is impossible to be a hero without losing. She's glad you didn't lose yourself in your path.

There was an unspoken pact between you both. The stories, the songs, the faux memories. So many think to know everything about you two. Sometimes Jaheira will read you a book you're in when she knows it's a shameless lie, and you sing her songs about adventures she did not lived.

Your laugh could make her feel younger. Alive. You both were so differents, but knew each other in a way few could.

Whenever you chose to strike as a monster, she would join you as a myrmidon and had her fun. You both deserve it.

"I did well not underestimating you, cub. It is impossible not to laugh at those who can't see how your bright smile hides sharp fangs. As pretty as a diamond, and as fierce too."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[mischiefwife]

Hey, think twice before supporting the BG3 Stardew mod.

Saw this nice looking Stardew Valley mod with BG3 characters, pretty quickly knew something was off when you see Halsin/Astarion/Rolan front and center with no mention of Wyll at all.

Then we get this whopper of a cry post, maybe suggesting they can't be anti-black because they're not white? They can't show misogyny cause they're women? They can't be blamed at all because they're just polling their PATREON votes? Fucking do better. Can't even hide behind the usual excuse that it's a free fanwork, it's not.

Fandom's got a racism and misogyny problem. Step up and draw the line with these creators crying victim when asked 'where's Wyll?' (And yes I checked, the replies are 90% positive and 10% where's Wyll, where's the women) when you've already fully developed your random minor npc first. Team members being made uncomfortable translates to being called out for contributing to a lil' racism.

The misogyny hydra and the racism in fandom runs deep i know, but for the love of fuck can we push back against it?

Or you can side with the mod's supporters (this is one of the devs actually lol). Who post things like this.

And the creators don't say a fucking thing at all about it, they just keep playing victim. It would be so easy to approach this system with a SMIDGEN of respect, just acknowledging the racism at all. Seriously BG3 fandom. Demand better.

I don't give a shit if they're the most popular, there's also a REASON why Wyll is not. But if you want to just eat this shit up and contribute making your fandom shitty and uninviting, by all means.

[m00nlight-ramblings]

Touch Me

Repulsed by touch due to years of trauma, Astarion now wears gloves in his every day life. But once he starts to adventure with you, he slowly starts to rebuild his trust in others, when one night, he can't bare to not touch you any longer.

Pairings: Astarion x fem reader

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, light discussion of trauma, swearing, fluff. 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4.5k

Requested: yes

A/N: Okay so I got carried away with this one lol. Happy to be back writing some good ole BG3 smut teehee. Graphic made by me, I don't give permission for my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my consent.

You hadn’t really noticed Astarion’s gloves before, for the first few days of adventuring. You figured that they were just for defense, to help keep his body safe in combat along the journey. You were also far too busy trying to figure out the whole tadpole-in-your-brain problem, along with the myriad of enemies seemingly popping out of nowhere, to be concerned with your camp companions’ fashion senses.

But one evening, when you were headed to the nearby creek to quickly wash yourself in a moment of calm, you stumbled upon a rock, covered in familiar looking clothing.

Astarion’s clothing.

His gloves laid on top of the bundle of clothes, the brown leather muted in the soft moonlight. You paused for a moment and turned to look out into the deep creek, and not even five feet away, Astarion stood.

You realized he was fully nude so you shrieked and turned around. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here!” You apologized profusely. You heard Astarion gasp behind you and the motion of water, feet padding over to the rock. Clothes started to shuffle and you heard Astarion murmur under his breath.

“…completely nude, as if my clothes on the rock weren’t a dead giveaway that I would be naked! Trying to bathe and have peace and quiet for one second this entire journey…”

“Look, I said I was sorry-” Without thinking you turned, but luckily Astarion was fully clothed, except for his gloves. He seemed more concerned with fixing his outfit than what you were saying, so you gently reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention. “I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t see anything, anyway-”

The second your fingers touched Astarion’s wrist, he shouted, ripping his arm back as if you had just shocked him.

“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed, his voice dark. It scared you for a moment and you stood absolutely still, silence hanging between you. Astarion didn’t even look at you, just down at his wrist, as if he had been burned.

“What…I’m sorry? Did something happen-”

“Just…don’t touch me,” His cool demeanor was back as he gracefully slid the gloves on, “Alright? Just…don’t.” He had finally looked up at you, his ruby eyes shimmering. His expression was unreadable, but you nodded slowly.

“Alright…I won’t.”

You stared at him for a bit longer, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Was it…fear? Rage? You weren’t quite sure…all you knew was that without meaning to, you had somehow crossed a boundary with Astarion, who was already like a vault.

Without another word, Astarion walked back to camp. You sighed heavily and eventually bathed, but the entire encounter was so odd that you didn’t quite know how to move forward with it.

The next morning, while the sun was still rising, Astarion found you by the campfire as you cooked your breakfast. Uncomfortably clearing his throat behind you, he seemed a bit sheepish. Wringing his wrists (clad in the gloves), he shifted the weight on his feet in his graceful, Astarion way.

“May I speak with you for a moment?” He asked. Nodding, you stood, wiping off your pants. Astarion stared at you for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. It was increasingly apparent that he didn’t know how to start the conversation, but you waited patiently, afraid you’d somehow set him off again.

“I…want to apologize for last night,” He eventually said, “The whole…situation…with my gloves, I mean. I…” He sighed, searching for words, “I have a hard time with touch. I have for a bit…because of my past with Cazador. When I woke up, thrown from that Nautiloid, I realized gloves made me feel better because I technically don’t have to touch someone when I…well, when I touch them. And since I was no longer under Cazador’s thumb, I snagged the first pair I could find off of…well…some poor dead body on the beach and it’s been better ever since.”

Taking in what he was saying, you nodded, staying quiet. “So…you wear gloves. Because you don’t like touch.”

“Quite frankly, I’m repulsed by touch,” He calmly replied, throwing a hand back, “200 years in a body that I had no control over will do that to you, I suppose.”

“Okay. That makes sense.” You said plainly, forking a piece of pork belly into your mouth.

Astarion tilted his head, confused. “It does?”

“Yes. I mean…I believe you, and everything.”

“You do.” He stated, but it sounded like more of a question, like he didn’t understand.

Shrugging, you nodded, “Cazador forced you to use your body against your will to do his tidings, and now that you have the ability to act for your own for the first time in a very long time, you realize that there are boundaries that make you feel more comfortable. It makes perfect sense.”

Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. “Well…look at you. Knowing so much about me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” You smiled and pat his shoulder gently, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand…and will be aware of it.” You go to walk away, but turn and look at Astarion, “I know what you’ve been through was unbelievably awful, so you don’t have to…but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”

Astarion stood, frozen. He nodded so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.

“Thank you.” He eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on the ground. In a flash, he was striding towards his tent, his hands behind his back, as if the conversation never happened. Watching him walk to his tent, you shook his head.

You knew Astarion was full of secrets, but you weren’t quite sure how deep those secrets went.

The following weeks had tore through your body harder than any training you had been through. Every night when you went to bed, it seemed like a body part you didn’t even know you had was aching.

Currently, you were a little way away from camp, leaning against a tree, trying to get any semblance of reprieve that you could. Your eyes were closed, but you were nowhere near sleep, as the crickets chirped around you.

“Darling?” Astarion’s voice called out gently. You waved your hand in the air so he could track you down.

“Over here.” You mumbled, your arm feeling like it was 600 pounds. You brought it back down to your side and sighed heavily. Suddenly, you smelled chicken. Opening your eyes slowly, you saw a plate of food in front of you. You followed the arm holding the food and saw that Astarion had knelt beside you, presenting the food.

“Dinner,” He spoke plainly, “Gale just finished cooking. I thought you could use some help since your ass was devilishly kicked by those goblins earlier today, so I brought dinner to you while you were resting.” He smirked as you took the plate of food, barking out a laugh.

“Funny that you just had to bring up the fact that I didn’t perform my best today.” You started to slowly bring the food to your mouth, the taste melting on your tongue. You moaned softly in pleasure – he never shut up, but gods, Gale cooked a good meal.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t perform my best, either.” Astarion sat beside you now, his back resting against the large tree. He sighed as well, leaning his head back.

In the past few weeks, ever since the evening you had accidentally touched his wrist, you two had become closer. You were the only one to know his secret, a vulnerable piece of the Astarion puzzle. He trusted you to keep his secrets safe, and you did – like you had said, that’s what friends were for.

You ate in a comfortable silence as Astarion stared up at the moon, his face gleaming in the soft glow. Though you two were friends, he was undeniably handsome – you found yourself looking at him longer than necessary, butterflies popping up in your stomach when he would come into your tent to just converse, or when he was next to you in battle. You didn’t know when it started to change, but slowly, your feelings had deepened, which scared the shit out of you. Even now, with no words exchanged, your head felt light as he sat beside you, his familiar scent comforting you.

“Beautiful moon out tonight.” Astarion commented softly. You murmured in agreement, placing the plate and fork next to you now that you were done eating.

“Were you able to hunt tonight?” You asked Astarion.

He chuckled, “Always looking out for me,” He spoke gently. He then turned to look at you, his face soft, “Yes. I did…earlier. Thank you for your concern.”

You laughed softly and shrugged, even though it took all of your effort. You closed your eyes again, “You know me. I need to make sure everyone eats, even if your version of eating is slurping up some boar blood somewhere-”

Suddenly, your hand felt like it was enveloped, and chilled to the bone. Your eyes sprung open and you looked down. Astarion was holding your hand in your lap.

Without his glove.

Your mouth parted in surprise as you looked at him in shock. “Astarion-”

“I know.” He interrupted, smiling proudly.

“You’re…holding my hand.”

“I know.”

“Without your glove!”

“I know.”

You smiled back at him. Both of you sat there in silence, smiling at each other like two goons. You didn’t know what to say, so you started to stutter.

“But…how? When? You’re…feeling-”

“Not with everyone,” He said, “But with you…it’s different. I went to bed last night, thinking about how I wanted to…feel you. Touch you. Really feel you…hold your hand. With mine. Skin on skin,” Suddenly, he turned sheepish and looked down, “I hope you don’t mind?”

“Mind?!” You sat on your heels, gripping his hand tighter, “Of course I don’t! I’m…excited for you! Proud of you! Hells, I-”

Suddenly, Astarion’s lips were on yours. Cold, but gentle – he pressed lightly and pulled away almost as fast. As he pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes uncertain.

“I hope…you didn’t mind that, either.”

A deep blush grew on your cheeks as you smiled and shook your head, “Definitely didn’t mind that.” Your voice was low, quiet. You knew this moment, though on the outside seemed so insignificant, was a monumental moment for Astarion.

He smirked and nodded, “Good. Because when I was thinking about how I wanted to hold your hand, I was also thinking about how I wanted to kiss you, as well.”

You leaned into him and kissed him, pressing your lips on his a little firmer than last time. Smiling, you pulled away slightly, “I like when you think like that.”

Astarion chuckled, his bare hand moving up the sleeve of your blouse, “Good to know. I’ll have to keep that mind next time I start thinking.”

The Shadowlands had boasted not only the worst atmosphere you had ever experienced, but also the worst sounds to ever grace your ears. It seemed like every time you heard a bird squawk, or a bush rustle, you jumped 10 feet in the air. You were thankful that you had Astarion by your side at night, otherwise, you weren’t completely sure if you’d get any rest at all.

Your nights with Astarion could only be described as wholesome, for the most part. Though his gloves were now off in the presence of your tent – his comfortability of touching you without them pretty much 100% - he still couldn’t get past his history when it came to sex. The moaning in each other’s mouths as your tongues danced with each other only amplified how desperate you were for each other, but every time, it wasn’t right. And that was okay.

But gods, did you yearn for him in every way.

Astarion was currently holding you, as you read on your side. You could tell he was sneaking peeks at your book because every so often, there was a “humph” or gasp coming from his lips softly. And when you tried to turn the page too fast, Astarion would gently touch the corner of the book, preventing you from moving to the next page.

“I can let you borrow the book when I’m finished, you know.” You said, giggling in his arms. He smirked and kissed your neck, his breath hot in your ear.

“But isn’t this much more fun, darling?”

You dog-eared the page and put the book down, turning in Astarion’s arms so you were facing him. You gently placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. Every time you touched him with skin-on-skin contact, you made sure he was comfortable. Astarion smiled and nodded, placing a peck on your forehead. Slowly, he kissed down your temple, to your cheek, and to your jawline. You sighed heavily, your arms wrapping around his neck. He hummed as he kissed along your jaw.

"Astarion..." You breathed. Your hands found their way into his hair, and when you started running your fingers through it, he moaned slightly.

Suddenly, gently, Astarion's cold hand had found it's way in between your legs, tentatively pressing against your clit through your underwear. You gasped at the sudden sensation, pulling back. Looking at him confused, he blushed slightly.

"I need you," He murmured quietly, brushing a lock of your hair back, "I need to feel you. All of you. I want to take you...desperately."

You smiled and slowly rolled your hips forward, towards his fingers. The pressure made you moan, and you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes back.

"Are you sure?"

Astarion nodded. His hand quickly pulled back and found it's way by his side, "But...I may...um..." His gaze followed where his gloves lay on the table near your bed. You followed his eyes, and looked at the gloves. You smiled and kissed him.

"Put them on."

"Are you sure? It's just that...well, I don't need them to touch you anymore, obviously, but when I think about making love, it can get overwhelming-"

"Astarion," You cut him off gently, staring into his eyes, "If you need to wear your gloves to feel comfortable making love to me, then you can wear 30,000 pairs at the same time. As long as you feel comfortable doing it," You kissed him quickly, "And can still take off my pants."

Astarion laughed and reached behind you, slipping the gloves on. His bashful look gave way to a smile, his eyes darkening in a way that you hadn't seen before. He enveloped you in a kiss, grabbing hold of your body around your waist.

"I am going to fuck you until you see stars." He grumbled, pressing his erection into you. Capturing your lips in a rough kiss, you moaned into it, the sudden portrayal of Astarion’s arousal sending heat to your belly. He gently guided you on your back as he straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Finally he leaned back, staring into your eyes.

He was truly a captivating sight - his fair, taught body seemed to glow in the light of your oil lamp. His eyes - usually a bright ruby - were now almost so dark they were onyx. He smiled at you, causing you to turn bashful under his gaze. You felt his hands make quick work of your pants, pushing them down to your ankles. You aided him by kicking them off your feet, your heart racing.

Was this finally happening - were you finally going to make love with Astarion? Your head swam as his gloved hands glided down your sides, taking in every inch of you. He shook his head, still smiling.

“You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” He whispered, his eyes inching towards your (now soaking) center. Gracefully, he slid down the bed, not breaking eye contact with you. Achingly slow, he spread your legs. Settling on his belly, his head dipped to your core, his nose so close it tickled the hair that encased it.

“Astarion…” You murmured, your hand resting on his head. You watched him lick his lips before he lightly pressed his tongue to your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. You physically felt like your senses were on overdrive - every muscle was tightened, anxiously awaiting his touch.

“You can’t rush perfection, darling,” He purred, one of his fingers finding their way to your clit. He gently rubbed the finger over your bulge, teasing you, the leather of the gloves an icy contrast to your growing heat. “I’m going to savor this moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

He was staring at you; a moment suspended in time. The only sound in the tent was your whimpers, trying to muffle it so the others didn’t hear you. Astarion’s signature smirk never left his mouth - he was the notorious tease, so why would he be any different in bed?

Suddenly, his tongue delved into you, immediately lapping up your juices, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your hands found his head, desperate to grip anything in their path. Once you felt his hair you couldn’t help but give a tight tug, to which he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations driving you crazy.

“You like that, don’t you?” He teased, pulling back slightly to speak. He still smirked, his tongue softly darting back to your clit. You bit your lip and nodded, the only way you could currently respond without screaming in pleasure. He dove back in, sending waves of sensation through your body - the coil in your belly started to tighten as Astarion took your clit in his mouth, sucking gently.

Shifting your head to the side of the bed, you pressed your mouth into the pillow, yelping in pleasure. Suddenly, you felt the leather of Astarion’s glove grabbing your cheeks, forcing your head forward. When you opened your eyes you saw him hovering over you, body slightly raised from your pussy.

“Don’t,” He commanded, the other hand working circles on your clit, “I want everyone to hear. I want the whole world to hear how good I love you.”

“Astarion…” You whimpered, your voice trailing off as he was back in between your legs, licking you into another dimension. You did as you were told, your head lolling back on to the pillow so you were looking at the ceiling of your tent, your vision going fuzzy. Your orgasm was quickly approaching, your muscles so tight you felt like you had to jump out of your skin. You knew Astarion sensed it - he slipped one arm underneath you to give himself better leverage, and was now lapping at you roughly, hungrily.

“I-I…I’m going to come,” You breathed, your strength failing you to use your full voice. You looked down and saw Astarion smiling into your cunt, the vibrations on your clit causing your legs to shake around his head. He stared at you from his position, which was just the push your body needed to reach ecstasy.

Your orgasm washed over you as your back involuntarily arched, a hand gripping so hard on to Astarion’s head you’re surprised you didn’t hurt him. His voice was screamed from your lips - definitely heard by everyone in camp - and you couldn’t think of anything else as you saw stars. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you heaved, trying to get control of your breathing. Astarion lapped at you for a few moments more as you felt your orgasm, finally pulling back to give you a moment to breathe. He stood on his knees and wiped his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face.

“You taste incredible.” He said, slowly raising himself from the bed. He undid the strings of his pants and pulled them down, his erection popping out. Leaking with wetness already, you couldn’t help but stare - this was the first time you were fully seeing him naked, and you were in awe of his form. Just seeing him fully aroused was enough to get you going again, and once he crawled back on top of you, you immediately spread your legs for him. He kissed you, and the faint taste of yourself made you moan into the kiss - his tongue was sloppily dancing in your mouth, all sense of romantic etiquette out the window. He was needy, whimpering into the kiss.

You felt him align himself with your entrance and you pressed one of your hands to his cheek, causing him to look up. You smiled softly.

“Are you sure?” You asked gently, delicately cradling his trauma in your hands. Your heart was racing in your chest - out of all the lovers in the land, you couldn’t believe that Astarion had felt comfortable with only you.

He smiled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, darling. All 200 years of it,” You felt him adjust himself on top of you and he smiled, his eyes darkening again, “Now; stop being so nice so I can ravage you so good you can’t walk tomorrow.”

You both chuckled as he pressed himself into you, your laughter giving way to a low hiss as he immediately filled your aching entrance. Your pussy was begging for a break since you had just orgasmed mere moments ago, but the ache felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan. Astarion maintained eye contact with you, his mouth slightly parted, as he slowly began to rock into you, his hips falling into a rhythm.

“Gods, you are so fucking tight,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “Make my cock feel so good.”

Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead as he rocked quicker into you, his eyes falling heavy. You moved your hips upwards, gaining better leverage so he could go deeper. When he hit your spot, you both moaned in pleasure, and you gripped the sheets next to you.

“Astarion-” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You dug your nails into his back and pulled him closer to you, “Fuck! You make me feel so good!” Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you arched your back, “Harder, please!” You whined.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled in your ear, his words hot on your face, “You’d like me to fuck you ‘till we broke this bed, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” You gasped, digging your nails harder into his back, “Please, please - give it to me!”

Astarion started to slam his hips against yours, the wet sounds of skin filling the tent. With every thrust, he groaned, his face becoming slightly red. A gloved hand appeared around your neck, and he stared into your eyes. You smiled slightly and nodded, and only with your consent did he start to squeeze, holding you in place as he fucked you.

“Tell me you want it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

“Hells, Astarion! You make me feel so good,” You screamed, both of your hands going to his around your neck, “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me.”

Your voice was a whine, desperate for sweet release of your impending orgasm. If your first one was intense, this one was indescribable - Astarion’s cock slammed into you in a rhythm he was slowly losing control of. He took his hand off of your throat and held on to your hips, trying to gain control of his thrusts as he closed in on his own orgasm.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours!” You screamed immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck again, “I’m yours! This pussy is yours - forever! I’m yours forever.”

Astarion smirked as he looked into your eyes, “Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. He bit down on your bottom lip hard and as he pulled away, he licked away the tiny bit of blood that had sprouted.

Suddenly, his expression changed as the trusts fell out of time. He became sloppy, his mouth open, his eyes closed. His climax was close, so you wrapped your legs around him, drawing his cock closer into your aching cunt. Slick with both of your juices, Astarion’s cock slid in and out of you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Darling, I’m close,” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring into yours, “You’re going to make me come.”

“Come for me,” You said bringing your hands to the sides of his face. Your own orgasm was close - you were sure that if you felt him spill inside of you, you would tip over the edge for the second time that night. You smiled, tears of pleasure threatening to fall from your eyes as your body was being pounded into the bed, “Fill me.”

Astarion rested his forehead on yours. With a loud moan of your name, his entire body tensed, his climax spilling into you. His gloved hands dug into the side of your hips and suddenly your orgasm appeared, washing over you all at once. You pressed your body into his, screaming his name, your bodies close enough to feel as one.

As your bodies spasmed together, you saw Astarion smile. He peppered a gently kiss onto your lips, a soft moan escaping into your mouth.

“My darling,” He whispered, his body still on top of you, “That was���divine.” He was out of breath, his voice ragged. As he slowly moved to your side, still inside of you, you nuzzled into his chest, trying to steady your own breathing.

“Thank you,” You whispered, sighing contently, “For trusting me enough to be able to do that with me.”

Astarion tutted and started to stroke your hair, “Thank you for being the person that you are…so that I can feel safe enough to trust you.” He looked down at you and kissed you.

Sleep crept upon both of you; and neither you nor Astarion made a move to clean up the sticky aftermath between both of your legs. As you drifted off to sleep, still naked in Astarion’s arms, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled contently - you could get used to this. It seemed the whole world was in your arms as you both held on tightly to one another, an unspoken bond between the two of you grown stronger.

Astarion slid his gloves off before he fell asleep.

---

A/N: I had a blast writing this one...please reblog if you liked it! Comments mean the world to me! :)

[artistic-mathematics]

Analysis on Shadowheart, her relationship with "Mother Superior", and Shar

Spoilers for all three acts of BG3 below.

I just had the sudden realization that Viconia sent Shadowheart to retrieve the relic with every intention of letting Shadowheart die alone and as a nobody out of pure jealousy, all the while being thrown around like a ragdoll for fucking fun by the goddess she's devoted everything to because she's been gaslit and manipulated her entire life.

Viconia sent her on a fucking suicide mission (KNOWING that it was a suicide mission) and told her that her memories would be restored after she returned under the impression that Shadowheart was going to die. She knew that she was going directly against what Shar wanted (to convert Shadowheart and puppet her around like a plaything until she became Shar's obedient Chosen) and did it anyway because she considered Shadowheart to be a joke and decided that if Shadowheart was dead, then she would have to be the Chosen.

There's only a few things that Shadowheart knows about herself that aren't total fabrications (not including the fear of wolves, I suppose, though they did gaslight her into being terrified of them). She likes night orchids. She can't swim. She's a cleric of Shar. She has a Sharran wound that hurts sometimes -- and she doesn't really even know why it hurts, just that it hurts. The saddest part about this is that two out of these four things, maybe even three, are things that she most likely learnt via intuition. The only other things she knows? Her suicide mission -- to steal the githyanki relic and return it to Baldur's Gate. And the authority figure in her life (emphasis on authority) -- Viconia Devir, Mother Superior, and the things that she'd had done to put her in place.

Viconia wiped literally everything else from Shadowheart's life except for Shar and herself. Shadowheart has a better idea of who Viconia is than who she herself is, and it only gets worse because Viconia had marked her as "expendable". Meanwhile, Shadowheart is completely unaware, believing that she'll be rewarded greatly upon delivering the relic to Baldur's Gate (she doesn't even know where the House of Grief is, or where she's supposed to deliver the relic to specifically!). Except when Shadowheart does become a Dark Justiciar and shows up to overthrow Viconia, Viconia faces her and calls her a traitor anyway despite knowing that Shadowheart is telling the truth. (Note how Viconia doesn't call out "for Shar!" at the beginning of this battle.)

Everything Shadowheart knows about herself is either shit she was manipulated into believing or things she's figured out on her own. She doesn't remember anyone she was close with -- not her best friend Nocturne or any of the initiates she'd trained with. Meanwhile, it's outright explicitly stated that all of her companions -- both from those still in the House of Grief and those who were sent with her on the relic mission, were never treated this way. People in Shadowheart's past all know Shadowheart better than herself -- at least, they know who she used to be before the events of the nautiloid -- but that's just the problem at hand.

Shadowheart has zero sense of identity. Even at the beginning of the game, with the knowledge of being a Sharran cleric, she's struggling with herself. She very clearly is downright terrible at being a Sharran cleric -- I mean like yeah, she likes deceiving people and playing dirty, but she's horrendous at keeping secrets and worries way too much for people and animals than she cares to admit. Even as going down the Dark Justiciar path, Shadowheart's morals -- the ones that Viconia and Shar both tried to suppress -- stand in the way, especially in the House of Grief. When she's faced with her parents, deep down, she knows that killing them is outright wrong, despite everything that she was taught. If you let her do as she pleases, she makes a comment about just serving blindly, because it's just so much easier to do rather than continue with the mental battle that she's been fighting for years -- and note she doesn't even kill her parents intentionally in this route, and she falls to her knees grieving for these people she doesn't recognize because she understands suddenly, realizes that what it'd all meant, but it's far too late because Shar wipes her memory all over again, and her identity is now officially molded into someone completely unrecognizable.

The worst part about it is that Aylin was right about the "terrible blood price" -- the moment Shadowheart kills Aylin, she will never be free from Shar ever again. At this point, she's doomed to be within Shar's clutches forever, her only fate to end up like The Unclaimed (a story about a Sharran cleric who, as the title suggests, was unclaimed by Shar in death). Shadowheart will never be free from Shar as long as she allows her parents to live, and that is so ridiculously fucking petty from a goddess that already took EVERYTHING from this scared little child in the forest who got roped into Shar's undying animosity.

TLDR: Both Shar and Viconia fucking suck, and I want to fistfight Shar (and win, because genuinely, fuck this bitch.)

[not-so-lost-after-all]

What do you think of Dadstarion? I don't know, but it's surprising how constantly hated and controversial it is for the Astarion and BG3 fandom. Many Astarion fans still act as if it's the ultimate affront to his character or a breeding/pregnancy kink some horny fans are projecting onto him because he must really hate children as he approves of being mean to them like telling Yenna to fuck off (as if he doesn't also approve of giving her food or other instances like saving Vanra) or because it's something that will infringe on his freedom forevermore. Or that you are sending an awful message for doing this to him because he's queer and you'd be forcing a queer man into a heteronormative dynamic. Also, the projection thing can be argued in both instances? Most of those who hate this headcanon are childfree themselves irl so you could also accuse them of projecting their own lifestyle preferences and belief onto Astarion.

Meanwhile others just come up with chronically online takes that it's a character trait that is stolen from Wyll as he's the only one who expresses the desire to have a family so you may also be a racist for not romancing him instead. I see Gale fans who like him as a dad are also now being accused of the same thing. Saying Astarion can be romantic to his partner will also result in you getting accused of stealing character traits from Wyll, by the way.

Like, dhampirs are very very rare and I don't see the topic coming up between Tav and Astarion but if it accidentally happens…I also don't think Astarion would just abandon Tav and their kid and would try to be a good dad. Or maybe I'm the delusional one. Ultimately though it's a harmless headcanon and it's not like it's something anyone truly believes is going to happen canonically in a future game. If anything we'll have some horny, single Astarion that's similar to act 1 or AA as canon.

Hello, Nonnie, and thank you for this interesting ask. I'm mostly staying out of the fandom drama, so while I knew about the "stealing from Wyll" takes and saw a few myself, that take about heteronormativity is new to me. Of course both is BS. Wyll is a family man, yes, but you can say the same about Halsin and Gale certainly sounds like someone who'd like to have a child in the future, whether bio or adopted, and Karlach would most likely give it a shot once her problem is solved. And try to tell any reasonable queer person that they shouldn't have kids because it's a straight thing to do and they should just support the gays instead. Just try it, guys, I'm waiting.

As for him hating kids, it annoys me too whenever I see such takes. It's surface level reading and seeing only what they want to see (as you've mentioned, he approves helping children too). He finds traumatazing Mayrina funny but that's not about her being pregnant. When he finds out that the Gur kids are undead, he's nonchalant about it but that's in character for him to wear a mask and some people wrongly take what he says at face value again. He'd prefer not to seet his shame of his again but that doesn't mean he doesn't care.

And lastly about dadstarion. I'm childfree and wouldn't be a kind mother but I like the idea of Astarion as a father. I don't generally like the concept of the undead having children but I like that for him as a fuck you to Cazador and everything he took from Star. Not as a breeding kink projected onto him, no. Would he be a good father? Well, he'd be anxious and loving, I believe. He'd think him abandoning Tav and the kid would be for the best but would never actually do that. Of course there'll never be a little silver haired dhampir in the canon it's a fringe lore and Stephen Rooney wasn't even aware it's an option in DnD.

[sisterofsomeone]

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/10

Chapter 2

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

[roguishcat]

BG3 Fanfiction Masterlist

(Header and dividers by @saradika)

Mostly Astarion x female Tav or Astarion x my OC, although other characters do make appearances.

Read on AO3

Series

Conversations with a vampire

Summary: Astarion's eyes shot open and he scowled at the child crouched near him. This had to a trick. Because there was no way that a child dressed like a noble would be in a back alley behind the Flophouse at this time at night offering him salvation in the form of a potion of superior healing.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, canon compliant violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Art - chapter 5

Chasing perfection

Chasing perfection is not only impractical but mostly unattainable. Instead of boosting our achievements, it shrinks them. Why? Because when we aim too high, "failure" becomes the norm, chipping away at our self-confidence bit by bit. But then again, maybe perfection is overrated.

Humor/Angst/Romance

Rating: Mature. Mentions of abuse, violence, mature themes. Chapters with smut will be marked red.

Pairing: Astarion/(Fem)Tav

Setting: Act 1 and Act 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

One-shots

Clumsy - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act I, before Astarion confesses to being a vampire. Tav has always been a little clumsy, but it was nothing too inconvenient until Astarion came along. Since then, whenever Tav’s blood would spill, he would be there.

Part of his plan - Pairing: Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II, just after the tiefling party. Astarion was sure that being indispensable to Tav was the best way to secure his place by her side. And this is where his sewing skills would come in handy.

A welcome distraction - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II. Astarion was not nice. Nothing about him was even remotely nice. Such a bland, plain word that carried little to no meaning. But perhaps, given the right incentive, he could be persuaded to be nice to the one person who he felt deserved it most.

Honeycomb - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. Set in the beggining of Act II. Astarion had a brilliant, fool-proof plan. And nothing, especially not a piece of honeycomb, would get in the way.

Yours, if you'll have me - Pairing: Astarion x female Tav. Set in Act II. Astarion found the letter on the ground between his tent and Gale’s earlier this morning. Not thinking much of it, Astarion swiped it, hoping to get a piece of juicy gossip. Gale having a secret admirer, how fun! He didn’t realise that the contents were meant for him. And from their leader, no less!

Upon reflection, I find you perfect - Pairing: Astarion x female Reader. Set post-game. You find a way for Astarion to see his reflection for the first time in over 200 years.

A sound judgement - Pairing: Astarion x female Reader. Magistrate Astarion AU (Elf Astarion, No Cazador). Astarion was bored and you were the only acceptable source of entertainment. Luckily for Astarion he was, in fact, the law and you had no choice but to obey him.

What happens at Sharess', stays at Sharess' - Pairing: Astarion x OC, Astarion x Cora. Set in Act III. Astarion knew that stubborn look. It meant that Cora had a plan and would stop at nothing to make it work. The thought both excited and unnerved him.

Other writers' OCs

A white lie - Pairing: Astarion x Sima. Set in Act III. Astarion could not remember being certain of anything in the past 200 years. But he knew without a slither of a doubt that he would do whatever it took to make sure that they were safe. For ever. For good.

Two-shots

Brunch - Pairing:Astarion x female Tav. AU two-shot (no Cazador, elf Astarion). Another, better emotionally equipped male would probably just ask Tav out. Like on an actual proper date at a nice venue rather than sticking to their monthly meeting for brunch as a pathetic excuse for spending time with her. But that was the crux of the problem. Astarion had absolutely zero clue as to how to be in a relationship.

Batstarion Week 2024

My headcanon is that spawn Astarion can turn into an adorable bat. Here are some drabbles exploring your and Astarion's life post-game for Batstarion Week 2024.

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 1 - Falling asleep in unusual places

Batstarion Week 2024 -Day 2 - Cuteness aggression

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 3 - High fashion

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 4 - Cameo with another character

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 5 - Feeding your Batstarion

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 6 - Bat cuddles

Batstarion Week 2024 - Day 7 - Any prompt (Happily Ever After)

Augustarion 2024

Interconnected drabbles and one-shots celebrating our favourite rogue. Mostly reader (You) x Astarion.

Augustarion Day 1 – Strawberries 🍓 In which Astarion didn’t steal these for you, he just wanted a taste.

Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊 In which Astarion shows you exactly why you shouldn't be insecure.

Augustarion Day 3 - Apron 18+ MNDI In which Astarion takes care of you. And I mean sexually.

Augustarion Day 4 - Mythologies In which your love isn't a cautionary tale.

Augustarion Day 6 - Cream In which Astarion complains that you have a hero complex.

Augustarion Day 7 - Underwear In which Astarion has been embroidering cheeky messages on your underwear in elvish.

Augustarion Day 14 - Protective In which Astarion is reminded that he is not alone.

Augustarion Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard In which a spell gone awry turns Astarion's shirt into an unusual, yet formidable weapon.

Augustarion Day 28 - DILF 18+ MNDI In which you won a bet and were granted a once in a lifetime opportunity - to see into your future.

Halsin

Good - Pairing: Halsin x female Reader (Durge). Set in Act III. Perhaps you wanting to be good started out as a way to get into Halsin's good books (and his pants). Yet, you find that you have come to actually like helping those you call friends. Perhaps being good becomes you after all.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[bekaroth-reads]

Gale x Tav/reader

[Like my other BG3 ones, it's either or, but the reader is referred to as Tav at one point. Highly likely I don't have some facts right because I'm still really early in the game, and only know bits and pieces about the later stuff. I just really wanted to write something for him 🥺]

Things were getting rather busy lately. It was actually somewhat welcome seeing as things were, well, not dull, but more calm than you were used to. To be honest, you were certain that you would get used to the more stable way of life, actually enjoy it even, but it was taking you a bit to settle after everything that had happened. For awhile, you kept yourself busy by going to visit Gale’s tower, and, more importantly, Gale himself.

Though it wasn’t too far between where you lived in Baldur’s Gate and where his tower was in Waterdeep, it was enough of a trip to scratch that traveling itch you had gotten from having a cross country journey for your life. You were quickly falling in love with not only the wizard that lived in this town, but the town itself. It was still a decently sizable place, but not quite as bustling and chaotic as Baldur’s Gate.

“Are you alright, dearest?” Gale snapped you out of your pondering as you were looking over Waterdeep lighting up for the evening.

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m alright. Just thinking about the next time I’ll get to come up to visit you.” You sighed.

Gale laughed, leaned your head toward him, and gave your temple a kiss. “You’ve only just gotten here and you’re already thinking about next time?”

You sighed again and smiled. “I’m sorry. I guess I should focus on right now, huh?”

He hummed contentedly and wrapped his arms around you. There was a few moments of comfortable silence before he responded. “How about you do whatever you like, and I’ll focus on here and now. Especially on you.”

There were a few more kisses to the side of your head. You leaned back and rested against Gale as the two of you watched the town come alive for the night. You both must have looked cozy because soon Tara fluttered down from the shelf she was prancing on to settle in you lap.

She didn’t say anything, instead choosing to stretch her wings and paws before snuggling straight into her favorite nap position. Gale, however, involuntarily made one of the most undignified noises he had ever made in whole life as his heart melted at the sight. He was quick to clear his throat to try to cover for it, and explained, “She misses you when you’re gone.” Gale gave another sigh, this one more forlorn, “We both do.”

You turned to kiss his cheek. “I missed you both too. This place is what I think paradise must be like.”

Gale answered this by turning to kiss you proper. After, he started peppering your lips and the side of your face with as many little kisses as he could manage. It seemed sweet, and it was, however you could tell that he was nervous about something and was using his loving onslaught to try to distract you from noticing; or, perhaps to distract him from his own nerves.

The squeeze you gave to his hand was the first way you questioned him. You knew he knew what that meant because you both had been using that gesture for that reason almost as long as you had been together. He either didn’t notice or was pretending not to, so you verbally question, “Gale?” This caused him to huff and rest his chin on your shoulder, his hair and beard ticking at your neck while he debated if he had the courage to say what he was thinking about.

“Love?” You use a different name for him as you leaned your head against his. It was cheating, you knew, because he always caved into what you wanted when you called him that.

His hold on you tightened to give himself assurance. “I was just thinking…” there was a pause as he thought over his words again, “Well, you know me, love. I have never been one to shy away from problem solving; especially when it’s for someone dear to me. And, of course, no one has ever been more dear to me than you.” Gale leaned his head to start kissing at your shoulder. “Lovely, lovely, lovely you-“

“Gale.” You got his attention, and he hummed between kisses.

“Gale.” This time you were more stern.

“Yes, dearest?” He looked up at you with his big, brown eyes that were shining like honey in the candle light, trying to act like he wasn’t stalling on talking to you. You didn’t want to be pushy, but it also seemed like whatever it was he was thinking of was important. The kind of important that needed to be said sooner rather than later.

“We both know what you’re doing right now.” You scolded, but tried to keep it lighthearted.

He grunted in frustration. “Curse you for knowing me so well!” He teased as he gave your shoulder one last kiss then rested his chin on it once more, still too nervous to look you in the eye.

“What if… you never had to leave?” He finally said.

Gale seemed to think he was too blunt and quickly followed the question with, “I-I know that it’s an awfully big thing to ask, and I understand if you need time to think about it. Or, if you simply don’t want to than-“

You were wondering what made Gale cut his sentence off, but a look down to Tara who was woken by the suddenly rambling let you know why. Her eyes looked annoyed from being disturbed, but still had a sparkle of amusement at Gale’s predicament.

“You listen here, you flying feline.” Gale grumbled at the Tressym, “A word of this to my mother, and I will never buy you a treat again!”

Both Tara and you knew that she was too precious to Gale for the threat to hold any weight. Either way, you decided to try to lighten the mood again.

“Gale, I would love to. I do love it here and I would love to live closer to you. But, that’s going take some time. I find out where there’s even a place for sale here, then I’ll have to figure out a good way to get all of my things here, and-“

“Tav, my darling.” Gale cut in, turning finally tuning to look at you once more. You weren’t looking forward the the no doubt smarmy look on his face as the only time that he ever called you, “my darling,” when there was something that you weren’t catching onto, and he was trying not to be condescending about it (a bad habit that he was trying to break). However, while there was still a hint of his usual attitude, the thing that was most present was a blush that was burning his cheeks and starting to dust the tops of his ears. “I’m asking you to live here- with me.”

The whole situation finally caught up with you, and all you were able to do was whisper his name.

Gale stood you both up so he could turn his whole body to face you making it easier to cup your face in his hands; Tara landing on her feet and walking away. “Again, I know this is a very serious thing- a very daunting thing- but…” once again he decided to change his approach. “This tower, it has been my safe haven, my home, for many years now. And, in many regards it still is. But, it has gotten to where it doesn’t always feel like it is anymore. The only time I truly, truly feel like I’m finally home…”

He paused a moment as he lost himself in your eyes, “…is when you are here.”

You weren’t sure what to do. You knew your answer, but all the words for it were completely void from your mind at the sheer intimacy of this moment. All you could think to do was mirror his gesture and place your hands on the sides of his face as well. It was tender and both of you were content to hold each other.

But, then, with neither of you knowing what the next move should be, the moment went from tender to comical. Gale was the first to hold back a snicker, causing him to snort just a bit; that in turn made you start to chuckle as well. Soon you were both giggling like drunkards, yet not moving your hands.

“What in the hells are we doing?” Gale asked as his fingers started to run along the back of your jaw just below your ears.

“I have no idea.” You laughed as you started to scratch your fingers through his beard.

A playful glint sparked up in his eyes, “I know something we could do instead.”

Suddenly, he used his hold to crash your lips into his. The kiss was passionate, yet light hearted. It was followed shortly by him kissing his way down to your neck where he started to kiss in a way the bristled his beard against you in a way he knew you could barely stand, playfully growling the whole time. The very undignified squawk followed by the tickled laughter let him know it was working.

“Gale! What has gotten into you?” You desperately tried to get away from his attack while trying to catch your breath from laughing. “And, to think, you were worried about Tara seeing us before.”

He stopped with a genuine kiss to your pulse point before looking up at you, his hair mussed from his little outburst. “If she had any decency, she’d be well out of the room by now. With how tired she looked I’d wager she went off to bed.”

You glance around the room and notice that Gale and you were indeed alone. Your eyes caught on one of the candles lighting the room, and you watched the little flame dace for a minute as you let out a contented sigh.

“Lost in thought again, my love?” Gale questioned.

You were silent for a bit more before you responded. “I’m going to have to return to Baldur’s Gate sooner than I thought.

Gale physically deflated when he heard this. “Oh, I see.” He mumbled before trying to put on a brave face, “Some pressing business you forgot about?”

“In a way…” you huffed as you were thinking of all the work ahead of you. “After all, it will take plenty of time to pack, find a decent wagon to carry things, put my little house for sale…”

This caused Gale’s eyes to widen and his hands to shoot up and hold your shoulders to ground himself. “You mean- this is- I-I-I can take this as a yes?”

"Yes." You confirmed.

With an excited shout and without another thought, Gale lifted you into his arms and spun you around. He overestimated his ability to do so, and after the first turn you both fell to the floor with you landing on top of him.

He seemed too elated to care though as he rolled you both over and propped himself above you on his elbows, laughing all the while.

With one of the largest, most genuine smiles you had ever seen on his face, Gale took you into his arms and whispered into your ear, "Welcome home, my love."

[sspiderliliess]

diamond .

⟶ astarion x nervous, soft gn!tav — romance

i hyperfixated on bg3 for a while... i should get back to it. this feels like a bit of a word vomit and im still learning to express right but gosh i love emotional astarion stuff. (astarion and tav have a moment while they tend to his wounds | tav is gender-neutral but takes ideas from a female oc) ❤️‍🩹

⟶ rating — fluff?? suggestive at the end | tw blood, references to astarion's past

A tender flame danced. Outside, beyond the tent’s flimsy walls, rain poured for miles. The thriving forest floors squelched with a sea of puddles, the skies veiled with gray. But the pale crimson of the vampire’s tent was blooming with orange as the light within a lantern flickered across the walls and his belongings. 

Trinkets left and right beckoned my wonder, chiseled figures and crackled books that showed their age placed atop the shelves and the indigo rug. In the dark, the gold gleamed and teased my vision. Against the petrichor and iron from his bleeding gashes, the faintest aroma of wisteria tickled my nose.

Ah, yes! The nighttime florals just nearby. I remember being so delighted that our group’s camping spot was placed so conveniently close to those lovely plants. Purple was a soothing color, and those wisterias could comfort me almost as well as any lavender-based remedy could. 

It reminded me of Astarion, sometimes. My gaze wandered to the deep cuts across his leg, caked with drying blood and shining against the lantern’s light. The sight had been with me since it happened early in the day; a bundle of determined trolls could certainly leave their mark on someone—particularly three right across his calf and thigh. But sitting here, breathing in the smell of his blood that strengthened with every dab of the washrag, my stomach began to stir. 

Either that, or his more notable nature came back to my senses. Had I really forgotten how regal he was after all of this? A magistrate, he said. Different circles, he said… I love you, he said. I’d spent a good time getting to know him and his quick-witted remarks. His irritable nature reared its head often, but something beneath the rough had always twinkled if I squinted just right. He didn’t have to take these hits for me. I knew my heart felt truly for him, but I didn’t know he’d be the type to do that so quickly.

“Darling, I don’t mean to be rude, but—ack—it’s just that this blood is finding its way all over my bedding. I could tend to this myself, you know?” 

I turned my attention back to Astarion, who had propped himself up and was leaning my way with a hand reached for the stained rag. The gash on his thigh was oozing with blood, a thick trail pooling onto his blanket.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” I gasped and crawled forward to continue the cleansing. 

He furrowed his brows, then raised them, and a smile etched onto his lips. “Now, for a vampire to get lost in thought at the sight of blood, I could understand… but what’s making you so bothered?”

“I’m,” I hummed. “I’m unsure.”

I tilted my head and continued to absentmindedly dab at the cuts. He laughed under his breath.

That familiar Astarion in his playful quips and egotistical humor. Those with a demeanor such as that rarely gained my attention for too long; I was always frightened by what judgments they might make, how out of place I felt. In the beginning when our group happened upon him, it’d bothered me quite a bit and I was sure he caught onto that, thus, I did what any mature person would have done when met with some sort of problem.

I ignored it.

The sly fox had taken note of this reaction. Maybe that was what got him to be nicer to me so quickly, less… prickly, especially in the times where I let him feed. But as I’d grown closer to him in our travels and had more meaningful conversations, I found him to be a book I might like to read, and the teasing came back on its own. I wasn’t bothered then. I might’ve enjoyed it. I still find myself thinking of that evening back near the grove, where he nearly choked at the teasing he threw my way when he saw the small and clumsily crafted animal in my hand. I told him how my mother had made those kinds of things with me, back in Baldur’s Gate when I was just a child and felt lonely, and his laughter stopped.

He seemed hurt by that. Regretful, almost. I'd like to think that turned out to be a nice day, though.

I was pulled from my gnawing thoughts once again as a slender finger slipped under my chin. Astarion looked less playful now, eyes glazed with what looked to be concern. He sat there in silence for a moment, staring at me until I felt my skin heat with blood and my heart tremble, and then he sighed. “Sometimes, I don’t know how to go about talking. It’s easy to flirt, to say things you don’t mean. But I would like to know what you’re thinking. Truthfully.”

He continued to hold my chin up with that single finger, his eyes almost pleading to listen and talk. It was the Astarion less familiar to most, and like a timid rabbit spoken to with the softest voice, I found myself being drawn closer right then and there.

“You told me a while back that you were a magistrate, a long time ago,” I began, awaiting his response.

He swallowed slowly and shuffled to make room for me on the bed. “I was, yes. I don’t remember much more than that. That life is so distant now, a pained memory of what was and what could have been, I suppose.”

He didn’t move aside from a mournful wince that I was sure had little to do with the physical state he was in. He laughed bitterly, “It’s funny to think about. I remember that simple fact, but nothing about me.”

It almost shocked me, the way he seemed to care so little about his old role. To be of such importance in Baldur’s Gate, to have such power over just about anyone before you… and yet, have it taken away in an instant. It threatened to sprout an ache in my chest—the thought of such a family and stability gone in the blink of an eye, power replaced with powerlessness. In the quiet and my dwelling, I understood him just a bit more. I could only wonder what happened to make the paths fall as they did. 

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Thank you for helping me today. We might not know who you were back then, or what happened before, or what you looked like, or what you knew… But I know you now. And I’m grateful.”

I’d always been so cautious with him, so much so I could hardly form the words properly. I pushed myself to keep my eyes on him, though, and I watched as he looked to the ground with a smile. Those crimson eyes appeared much glossier.

In that moment, I did what any confident, self-assured individual would do. My heart pounded against my chest the minute I leaned forward to gently wrap my arms around him. He paused briefly and I heard his breath hitch, but he returned the gesture.

“I’m grateful to know you, too,” he sighed into my ear.

His breath and curls tickled my neck, where old bites were planted. I’d forgotten they were there until his nose brushed against it and a dull pain bloomed in their place. He stayed like that for a while. “I know that I’m in no place to have a passionate night,” he said a bit awkwardly. “But I would like to spend what time with you that I can, if you’d like..?”

It took me a second to understand just what he meant, and I couldn’t help but pull away with tensed brows and a muffled giggle. “I don’t know if passion is the best idea, seeing as though you’re still bleeding as is.”

I pointed to the fresh puddle of blood on the blanket, where his leg had pressed into the furs. He scowled and pursed his lips, but his smile soon resurfaced. “Well, perhaps that another night, darling.”

He leaned back to lay down again and I grabbed the rag from the bowl of water, wringing it out as the dark reds faded to pinks again. It was then that I’d notice what sat opposite of me while I crouched on the ground. Tucked away from most prying eyes was a spindly little nick-nack on his shelf, with leaves and vines coiled together to make a deer-like toy that you’d think only a child could love. It was placed within a makeshift forest scene, crafted impressively from grass and sticks. It’d been a while since I’d seen it.

I didn’t think I would again.

[mrhrns]

Astarion issue

Consider this post as another meaningless shitpost from me. After it I'm going back to my endless work. I was silent about this for gods know how much time, and now I can't hold it inside. Not anymore. Important note: I do realise that I am nobody and my word has no power and blahblahblah, yet I think it is significant, at least for my own self, and who knows, maybe I'll find people with same thoughts. There is... a reason I would like to stay out from BG3 community and fandom. I do wish to contribute my own art someday, however, because my love for this game, its characters and Larian st is huge, but getting inside of fandom, searching for things here and there? ...I don't think I want it. And yeah, that bloodsucker bastard is a main reason for it. Not him directly, but how people perceive him. What they think about him. What they feel. What they show, draw, tell and discuss with everyone else about him. And mostly all of it is... Well... I have complicated feelings about it. None of them are pleasant. Disturbance, disgust, disappointment, and many more similar to it. Why? Here where I realise that mostly the problem is myself. "It's just a fictional character, just some pixels on your screen with voice, why care?" I do. If only anybody knew how much he means to me. I don't have light and easy life, I am in a constant state of survival, I have a list of many different traumas, and holding him in my little silly head helps getting through that shit. Pure shit. Believe me. Because, hell, surviving all he had in his undead life and still managing to be that charismatic (even if it's just a mask), that willing to move forward (even with mood "well, we are doomed")? An icon. Imperfect and by doing so relatable in almost everything for me. And that is why my brain can't help it but feel about him everything like he is alive. Existent. Just somewhere else, far away with no chance of meeting him. And that is why whenever I see porn arts with him, thirsty commentaries, erotic merch like statues, discussions whether he will drink the menstrual blood or not (and even getting his main scenarist involved in that crap) and god damn, that full-sized sex-doll? A bitter irony that his whole point as of fictional character was also showing him as a person with sex-trauma, who was always perceived as a pretty toy-thing for a night against his will with no care for his actual personality in his world, and it is exactly what people do in real life. Here I am glad he isn't real. All of it isn't surprising, though, considering that steam achievements have shown that only a half of players got through the first act.They don't know and they don't want to know. Am I going to tell people what to do and how they should enjoy these fictional things? Of course not. But I would be damn glad if people were digging just a bit more under the surface, but it's a whole other problem that goes with everything else in our world. I just really needed to pull this all out from my brains and put it somewhere, sitting in my dark corner and grumbling at people, just like always. And in the end - yes, I do understand that not all of his fans are like that. Doesn't really help with going frustration.

[leighsartworks216]

I Come With Knives Pt6

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

(The other parts of this story are under the First BG3 Masterlist, or you can use the AO3 link to read it there)

This one is my problem child. I have no idea how to write for the other companions but I needed to have this as context for the companions learning about Tav's bg and yeah whatever I've got better stuff coming up. I am very very excited for future chapters >:)

Warnings: self-destructive coping mechanisms (scratching oneself), mentions of slavery, hints of a panic attack, mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of biting, possibly OOC companions

Word Count: 1,334

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Everyone eyed you warily. You didn’t blame them. After you scrubbed your hands raw of the blood staining them, you provided no explanation. You’d basically sped in, Astarion trailing behind, and ran for a bucket of water. And stayed there. For hours. After the fact, you changed out the water, of course, but they weren’t concerned as much with the pink-tinted water as they were with the frantic nature you scraped the natural dye from your hands.

Astarion didn’t say anything either. A few of them had tried asking, but he smiled tersely and made an excuse that changed each time. “I was too distracted fighting a beast.” “You know how some people get with germs.” “They really hate the color red.” (This one was not said to Karlach, nor in her earshot.) 

It all came to a head at dinner, when you’d still provided no explanation. Gale handed out servings silently, staring at you as though studying a new specimen. Lae’zel watched you like a predator trying to defend her territory, prepared for the moment the intruder stepped over the line. Shadowheart barely repressed her scowl.

Wyll set down his bowl pointedly. “Haven’t you kept your secrets hidden long enough?” You raise your eyes from your barely-touched stew. You didn’t quite see him. Your mind lingered on the image of the Gur. “Do you expect us to continue following blindly while we pour our souls out for you?”

You bristled. The image disappeared, tucked away to haunt you later. “No. No, I’m sorry.” You sighed and set your bowl aside. Everyone watched you expectantly, more interested in what you could say than filling their bellies. “It’s just… difficult to talk about.”

“Speak,” Lae’zel encourages roughly. “We will listen.”

Astarion frowns at you. He’s taken to sitting beside you for ‘dinner’. They knew by now he wasn’t suited to eating normal food, but he didn’t quite trust them not to stake him through the heart or cut his head off. It was safest to linger by your side. The irony of your trust in him was not lost on him: You understood him best and you feared him the most. That fear may have dampened over time, but you still flinched at the gleam of his fangs, watched him as he left camp to hunt at night. Yet you’d bared your soul to him and him alone. He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

You inhale, slow and shaky. Your hands fiddle in your lap, providing you some sort of distraction. It would not be enough to ground you to reality should the thoughts become too potent.

“I was… am,” you corrected unsurely, “a vampire’s thrall. She… uses me as a blood source. Has used me, for years. I’ve been stuck under her thumb since I was a teenager. It’s… easier to have one consistent source of food than to go out looking for it every night.

“When we were out in the woods,” you nod your head slightly toward Astarion, “there was a Gur. A monster hunter. A-And he said he was looking for a runaway.” Your breaths sharpen into quick, frightened little things. You nearly choke on them. You stare into the fire. Your nails start scratching at your hands. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. “He had nothing to go on, just a name, but I panicked and I- I killed him. I shouldn’t have. I know I shouldn’t have. I could have explained everything. I could have paid him off. I could have-”

“Steady on, soldier,” Karlach interrupts. You can’t look at her, can’t draw your eyes away from the flickering flames, but you know she looks worried. It always amazed you how openly she wore her emotions, despite it all. “Take a breath, okay?”

Your nails stop scratching in favor of digging into your skin. You take a breath, slowly let it out, and your nails ease off. You run your fingertips mindlessly over the indents left behind.

You whisper, unable to raise your voice any further. “He said my master is in Berdusk.”

Quiet. Gale spoke up, voicing the awful realization everyone had. “That’s only a few miles from Baldur’s Gate.”

You nod.

“You’re marchin’ right back to her.” Karlach sighs, heavy and empathetic.

You finally lift your eyes from the fire. Everyone’s attention is on you, pitying and remorseful. “I have no choice. I can’t abandon you all just to run away. Especially with these tadpoles. I have no doubts she’ll find me quickly once we reach the city.”

“We could confront her,” Wyll suggests. “Go to Berdusk, face her head on, free you!”

“It’s not some goblin camp we can just walk into and clear out,” you protest. The idea thrills you to no end, but you cannot allow yourself that hope. Not when there is none. You will be found. Tonight, the next, a week from now. You’ll be locked back into your servitude. There is no chance you have to be free. “Killing a vampire lord isn’t- It’s not just-”

Astarion speaks up. You don’t expect it; he’d been so quiet this whole time. “If we can kill Cazador, we can kill Kir Parthene.” Your stomach rolls around at the sound of her name. “What makes facing my master any different from yours?”

You know the answer. Even if you don’t realize it yet, you know.

You have no qualms threatening Cazador. You’ve even told Astarion that you plan to help him kill his master, once and for all. Free him and his ‘siblings’, and rid Baldur’s Gate of the nighttime threat to its people. No longer would they have to go out, lure victims in as food for the vampire lord. It was so easy to promise. If you could help everyone else, why should you leave Astarion to the same fate you faced after this quest? He should be as free as possible from the chains binding him.

So why couldn’t you let them swear the same for you? What made Kir Parthene so different from Cazador? She was not stationed in as large a city, she did not steal souls off the street every night just for a quick meal, she did not personally carve poetry into the flesh of those beneath her. She had power, but no more than Cazador held. So why were you so reluctant to even dream of your freedom?

You were afraid.

Astarion can see the very second you know the answer to his question. Your eyes open a fraction wider, filling with a bottomless dread. Your heart stutters and your breath catches. He’s sure you’re on the verge of tears as you inhale a trembling breath, trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating, even as your fear squeezes your lungs.

“You won’t have to face her alone.” You turn to look at Shadowheart. “You’ve given us the strength to face our demons. We can help you face yours.”

You want to believe her. Believe all of them as they nod in agreement. Believe they could give you the strength you lacked, support you when you come face-to-face with her once more.

But then you see the deep crimson of her eyes and lips. You feel her nails digging into your skin. The cooing affections that come just after the harsh vitriol. Her teeth digging deep into your neck. How can you have any hope of facing her?

You shake your head and push yourself to your feet so fast Astarion is startled. “I’m sorry. I can’t think about this right now.” You abandon your dinner. It sits, lonely and growing cold, as you step away from the warm glow of the fire and the safety of your companions into the edge of trees surrounding your camp. You don’t go far, just far enough you can’t hear them speaking and they can’t see you collapse against a tree, clutching and clawing at your hands to remove the memories from your mind.

At least they know now.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog @thespectacularspaceace @lynnlovesthestars @sylverqueen_cosplay @yarn_yogi @tototini @teardropcup

[doberbutts]

it's very funny to me that exactly 2 people I follow are posting a lot about BG3 and one of them hates Astarion and loves Gale, and the other (you) hates Gale and loves Astarion. Opposite polarities, I love it

I don't hate him hate him I just think he's very uninteresting and the vibes are bad. The most interesting he's been was when his bestie told him his ex said "kill yourself now [but point it at the Big Brain]" which like. That JUST happened right before I started Act 2 so I'm waiting to see if he continues to be at least mildly interesting or if I can officially say my game did not change for not using Gale like at all and I could have left him in the portal with zero overarching consequences.

And see that's kind of my problem with him. Panic's big into theology so he struck an almost instant friendship with Shadowheart, who has been following him around a bit like a smitten puppy ever since he saved her from the pod, because they got onto the discussion of gods and Shart was happy to discuss her faith once she knew she wouldn't be judged for it.

But when Panic tried the same tactic with Gale it was "yeah I fucked the divine embodiment of magic" "oh okay, good for you I guess? Can you tell me anything else about her?" "The sex was great BTW and I am a very good lover" "that's... nice... but not what I meant" "I could show you if you want" "oh, no, no thank you, actually I just wanted to have friendly conversation" *pop-up in the corner Gale disapproves*

Unfortunately that's how many of our conversations have gone which leads Panic to avoid Gale because he's more persistent about it than Lae'zel (who ironically is both more aggressive in her come ons and yet also stopped when Panic put his foot down about respecting boundaries) and he was already put off Lae'zel for similar behavior.

But he's like. Hmm. Nice Guy (tm) persistent about it which gives ME bad vibes because most Nice Guys (tm) are not actually decent people. And I have no way of knowing if that similarity I see in Gale is telling me that he also is that way, or if it's just an unfortunate coincidence, so I as the player am equally put off by this guy who seems to be coming onto Panic with every conversation and gets mad when Panic uncomfortably extracts himself from said conversation.

Anyway I referenced this post before but I saw a post that said you can find a hundred Astarions on grindr and you can find a hundred Gales in silicone valley and I would 100% agree with both character assessments even though the post meant it disparagingly. The difference is I'm attracted to the Astarions on grindr but can't stand the Gales in silicone valley lmao

[umbralaether]

I am loving your BG3 writing, so: “you have no idea what you've done to me.”

No matter how hard he tried, he could not stop staring at her hands.

Hands that were quick to fight, to burn and break when needed; impulsive at worst and calculated at best. She had no problem using them this way, chipping blood from her fingertips like old paint, it was all a means to an end.

When her hands did not end up driving a stake through his heart, he knew she’d be the perfect shield. For all intents and purposes, everything was going according to plan. He could ignore the strange fluttering in his chest whenever her hands brushed against his skin. After all, it meant nothing. A strange side effect of survival.

At least he had thought so.

Watching that same gentle hand given to others twisted something strange in him. How captivating it was to see her fingers combing through Shadowheart's hair, weaving small white flowers into the dark locks as she braided them into their usual fashion. The act was almost imperceptible to the half-elf until one fell into her lap, leaving her flustered as Ceruli laughed in turn. You deserve a bit of niceness now and then too, you know!

His thoughts drift to what it would feel like to have those hands run through his own hair, if the soft caress of her fingers would awaken that same flustered response. He starts to question the fairness of it all, that Shadowheart should get to know this feeling when he hadn't, that she should experience her softness in a way he’d only seen.

“Careful, Astarion. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you are envious of our Lady Shadowheart,” Wyll’s smirk is worse than his words.

“Envious? My, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m simply enjoying the show.”

Ever the masochist, he finds himself still thinking of her hands in his hair when he comes to feed later that night. Part of him aches, wanting to know if the sensation would be soft, pleasing. If he would like it, if he could get lost in it. He certainly couldn’t ask her to do such a thing, of course.

Perhaps he was envious after all.

Wyll's comment eats at him still, resurfacing a few nights later when she recruits the Druid and he makes her laugh, a rare sound to hear in the Shadowlands. He grits his teeth when Halsin kisses her hand, wishing her a good night, and for a moment he wants to take those hands in his if only to remind her of him, however odd it seemed.

He once again shoves aside the fluttering in his chest. Why should he be so bothered by this? He could get whatever he wanted from her should he attempt the same flattery. A few honeyed words here, a sultry look there. It was easy.

So why did Halsin's forwardness rub him the wrong way?

He doesn’t find the answer until later, when he comes to feed one night; her gaze warm, inviting. She looks at him as if she truly sees him. It hits him then— he wants her to want him, willingly, not tricked into it with pretty words. Not just because of an alliance, or an agreement. He wanted her to want him, the person he was under the many masks he’d put up to hide behind.

You have no idea what you've done to me.

He’s ready to be fully wrecked, and he doesn’t know what he expects, telling her the truth. Exposing the raw parts of himself, against all better judgement. Admitting that his plan for protection was going so well until he went and compromised it. By feeling… what, exactly? A strange sense of fondness?

“I care for you, Astarion.”

She steps close, pulling him into her embrace. He freezes with an almost animalistic need to flee bubbling up— then stops, realizing what this is. He returns the hug, the fear melting away. This is what he's wanted, after all. Her touch. Her acceptance.

A spark, newly born.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Whelp, finished Veilguard and I have to say....while I am not mad I spent money on it, knowing what I know now I'd have waited til it was on sale.

I always knew there was no way it was going to live up to a decade's worth of anticipation...but I'm also side-eyeing that they had a decade and this is what they came up with. I think the biggest problem is the same thing that ultimately was Mass Effect: Andromeda's problem...it's a good game, but as a part of its FRANCHISE it just falls so, so flat.

The world feels HUGE, and is absolutely beautiful. I really like the character design and the combat mechanics. The character creator is the best Bioware has ever done. I love that they brought back the Assignment/Consequences mechanic from ME2 for the final mission.

Rook is a decent protagonist, though I feel like they missed the mark by not tying them to the Inquisition (or honestly, just breaking with tradition and letting us play the Inquisitor again). I get that they meant for new players to be able to step into Thedas and not have to know a ton of lore, but it feels like they went too far into the other direction and nothing feels CONNECTED to the previous games. This story could take place in any random fantasy setting, and not be confusing at all.

The romances suck. Even the good ones feel so bloodless after Origins, DA2, and Inquisition. I hate that they took out the option to spend little moments and asides with your romance, and I hate the pacing of them.

The twist at the end was not at all surprising to my neurodivergant, extreme pattern recognition having ass, but I'll admit I thought that it was that person wouldn't be able to leave the Fade.

The guest spots from Inquisition and DA2 are all great, but there were so many missed opportunities for more. And they were dumb not to let us use the Keep to customize world states. I get that as big as the franchise is at this point it would have been a LOT of extra stuff to add in, but even if they limited the amount of choices we could customize, it would have been better than what they gave.

Also, they had a decade :-/

I dunno. Overall it's pretty much just a mid game all around, especially in the wake of BG3. I'll probably do a couple more playthroughs just for different origin stories, but I'm not going to spend hours and hours on it. On the whole, I was never expecting to be dazzled but I'm irritated that it's as disappointing as it is :-/