#proud bhaal spawn

[rann-poisoncage]

[sorceresssundries]

Oh, What A Circus!

Pairing: Gale x gn Tav - SFW

Word Count: 900

Summary: The spawn of the God of murder and their Wizard boyfriend have a day out at the circus!

A/N: I've been writing a lot of smut/romance/angst and wanted to try my hand at something a little more light-hearted.

I hope you enjoy it!

“You look ridiculous.” Gale muttered with his arms folded.

Tav stood in front of the unimpressed wizard, towering above him at almost seven feet of rippling muscle, with eyes as red as bloodstone and tattoos that looked like carved, ancient curses. They were a trained, hulking barbarian whose blood-drenched origin had, until recently, been lost to tampered memory. They were the flesh of Bhaal himself, spawn of the God of Murder, flayer of innocents, and inspirer of savagery. Condemned to forever be whipped and tormented by the whispered urges that pulsed through their blood and haunted their dreams.

They glared at Gale from beneath their freshly applied clown face paint and waved their candyfloss at him. 

“You look ridiculous!” Tav snapped back. “We’re at a circus and you look like someone has pissed in your porridge.”

Their tiff was punctuated by squeals and laughter of children, and Karlach, revelling in the nearby circus games. Even Astarion seemed to be enjoying himself, hurling particularly cutting insults at a mime. It was hard to tell whether the mime was exceptionally talented at their craft or if Astarion had actually driven them into a silent breakdown.

Tav turned towards the merchant with whom Gale had been conversing. The small mephit, previously engaged in lighthearted banter, was now cowering in the shadow of the clown-faced elf.

“You buying something?” Tav asked Gale with a mouth full of candyfloss.

“Well!” Gale raised his finger and Tav mentally prepared themselves for an unnecessarily long explanation “This fine fellow here”, he gestured towards the now trembling mephit, “And his delightful wife are exceptionally talented artists and dealers of the finest, bespoke sculptures in all Faerûn! Isn’t that right, my friend?”

“Erm, yes absolutely.” replied the mephit, still not taking their eyes off Tav, “I was just explaining to your….”

“Boyfriend.” cut in Tav.

“Oh…right…” The mephit’s eyes flicked between the two adventurers, as though the pairing of the wizard and the barbarian was completely ridiculous. The tiny mephit looked over to his huge, hulking, earth elemental of a wife in disbelief. “For a reasonable fee, we can provide you with a completely bespoke creation in whomever's likeness you desire!”

“I was thinking…” Said Gale, who thought a bit too much for Tav sometimes, “We have enough coin to make a considered purchase, perhaps it would be a kind gesture to gift a statue to our brave, vampiric friend?” 

Tav glanced over to Astarion who was now in hysterics at the mime having to be comforted by some of the other circus performers.

“Right...”

“He has, after all, been through a tremendous amount of suffering, and throughout his decades of torture and islolation, has forgotten what he looks like.” Gale looked genuinely downcast at the thought of his friend’s ongoing trauma. “How poetic would it be, to gift him with a statue of himself. As pale and marbled as his own alabaster skin - complete with a face he will be able to gaze upon in place of the cruel void of an empty mirror.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Said Tav who had only been half listening. “I love poetry.”

“Excellent!” Gale clapped his hands together, evidently proud of himself for his empathetic use of wisdom “I’ll leave the coin with you, you are after all, a much more skilled negotiator than I!” He raised himself on his tiptoes and quickly pecked a kiss on the tip of Tav’s clown-red nose, before heading in the direction of an unimpressed looking Djinn. 

Tav waited until he was out of earshot before turning back to the merchant. “So, you’ll make me a statue.. Of whatever I want?”

“Of course!”

“Perfect.” Grinned Tav, in what they hoped was a friendly expression. In reality, their stretched, clown-painted smile was more intimidating than if they had offered their most murderous scowl. As such, they unintentionally managed to get a hefty discount and priority delivery as part of the deal. 

Tav handed over the coin, finished their candyfloss, and went over to join in the mime-baiting with Astarion. They were having an excellent day.

“TAV!” Gale’s voice was sharp with anger as it bounced off the walls of their quarters in the Elfsong Tavern.

“Yep!” said Tav, bounding over to where he was standing, where a delivery had just arrived.

“What in the hells is this?” Gale hissed.

“Oh great! It's here! They weren’t kidding when they said it would be quick” Tav’s eyes were wide with artistic appreciation. The statue was beautiful, crafted with such delicate intricacy it looked as though it was draped from silk rather than carved from rock. Tav could hardly believe that something sculpted from the unforgiving, stubborn hardness of marble could appear so soft. Looking at it, glowing in the gentle candlelight, they felt they could finally understand the deep, personal connection and enrichment of artistic skill and mortal interpretation. 

“Why is it of me?!”

“Oh, right.” Tav had forgotten they had completely ignored Gale's original plan. “Erm, I guess there must have been a mix-up” 

“Why is it nude?!!”

Tav grinned at him, delighting in the furious way his brow furrowed and lines of his face deepened. 

“All the most famous statues are, right?” Tav sighed in adoration as they looked back at the statue. “I like it.”

“Is that an accurate representation of the wizard’s penis?” Asked Lae’zel who had quietly appeared between them and made Gale jump. 

“Abso-fucking-lutely” Tav said with a grin, taking in Lae’zel’s impressed expression. “I love the circus.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 2

Astarion Ancunin + Bloodplay

I’ve always been a huge vampire fanboy, ever since I read twilight years ago. Plus, a vampire voiced by Neil Newbon? Woof.

Reader is Dark Urge in this. Featuring some Durge headcanons, like their blood being like crack for vampires when willingly given. Not a lot of smut in this, I got kinda carried away by the relationship part.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Living a life without memories should have been more difficult than it was, but outside of the random urges for manslaughter, committing manslaughter in your sleep, and how desensitised you appeared to be to all types of pain and torture, it was whatever. After a while you didn’t think about it much, even as time passed and you learned more and more about your past, or how your so-called servant showed up at night to try and tempt you into killing all of your allies.

Your memories still weren’t fully back when you learned about your Bhaalspawn status, but it made sense in the long run. From the first time you had met your allies, you’d thought in detail how you wanted to kill them and bathe in their blood, devour their flesh and make ornaments out of their bones. All but one, that is. And that was none other than your ragtag team’s rogue vampire Astarion, ever since you had first met it was like there was a connection between the two of you.

When you had awoken to him one night attempting to feed off of you, you had felt no disgust, but instead a possessive want. You had grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled him in, burrowing his handsome pale face into your neck, almost more excited about being fed on than he was to feed on you. Astarion would later tell you that your blood was the most delicious he had ever tasted, though he had very little else to compare it too, especially not another sentient living being.

That first feeding seemed to have opened the floodgates, not just in Astarion but in yourself. It was like a bloodlust that had been dormant before flashed awake, like the vampire venom coursing through your veins acted like a shot of adrenaline to your system. Astarion would never outright ask to feed from you, he was much too proud, but you could both tell you enjoyed it, maybe a bit too much for either of your sakes, but with the situation you were in neither of you seemed to care.

You never experienced the fatigue one fed on from a vampire should feel, and if Astarion had ever fed on another sentient he would have been able to tell you that he gained more strength from your blood than he would have anyone else. When learning your Bhaalspawn status, it all made sense, at least to those who knew about your kind. It became especially clear when some of Cazadors spawn tried to feed on you and immediately screamed in agony and turned into black soot. The blood of Bhaalspawn, and Bhaals most beloved child, could only be freely given, any who tried to take it by force would die a painful death.

Even after turning down Bhaals fate for you, dying and then coming back again, your blessed blood stayed. And when everything was done and over with, and most split up to continue their lives, you and Astarion stayed together. Neither of you had anywhere to return too, and you could both admit you had fallen in love. Astarion had no master, and whilst the Bhaal cult still worshipped you to some degree, you felt no need to return. The cult had been quite useful in its own way though, as its lairs had possessed different items that would allow Astarion to walk in the sun even without the tadpole.

But even as you two travelled across the lands, set on exploring and living life to the fullest, the yearning for blood was present. It was like an instinct or need that had been implanted deep in your body, as it was in Astarions in his need to feed. And at times his fangs in your neck as he gulped and your hands in his hair wasn’t enough, at times you needed to draw the life from someone’s eyes and bask in the power it gave you.

That is what lead to the situation you found yourselves in now, both covered almost head to toe in the blood of slave traders. Astarion and yourself had stumbled across a medium sized village mainly filled with refuges of different descent, and had learned how their more beautiful children kept disappearing. So, the two of you set out to hunt down these slave dealers. Normally you two would debate on going more than you did, but something had fuelled the two of you.

The children were brought back to the village, you two were paid with what little gold the town had, and you two returned to your camp even when offered housing by the villagers. Whatever room you would have been offered wouldn’t have survived the hunger you both experienced, you had barely removed the order off your body before Astarion was on you, his nails digging into the tight muscle of your chest as he lunged for your neck.

It wasn’t a bite just for hunger, not in the sense of which he normally fed from you for strength, but a hunger for something deeper. Your hand wove through his pale locks and pulled, drawing an almost snarled groan from him as he panted out his nose, dislodging his fangs from one spot to bite another. The blood of a god still flowed through you even after being disowned, so the puncture wounds shut on their own.

After the life Astarion had lived, he had never been much for intercourse after being free, but you two found a deeper connection this way. Your vampire felt no need to get off, but it didn’t stop his hands from sneaking under your belt to start touching and pulling, his nimble fingers playing you like a fine instrument as you lapped at the muscle and veins of your neck.

Orgasm like this was euphoric, you felt alive in ways you couldn’t remember ever feeling, even in your many years as a cult leader. And for Astarion your trust in him lit a fire inside him, making him feel freer and more in charge of himself than he had been for 200 years. Times like this could draw on for hours, your godly blood replenishing with ease no matter how much your lover drank from you, your cock filling up under his actions as he drove you to pleasure and far into oversensitivity again and again.

It always ended with you two having to stumble your way to the nearest river and clean yourselves, even as your legs felt numb and the glow in Astarions skin made you want to jump him again. As you laid down in your shared tent, you always swore your undead lover felt warm to the touch. Maybe it was the large amounts of blood he had consumed, but he always seemed to sleep better on nights like this as he laid on your left side, his ear pressed against your chest to listen to your heart as it pumped. You didn’t miss being a cult leader, you didn’t miss Bhaal, not one bit. And laying here with Astarion made you glad you had given it all up.

[p3achysuki]

A/N: hello! This will be my first Baldur’s gate 3 writing and I’m a huge Gortash simp so obviously I needed to write something for Gortash and dark urge.

summary: before the tadpoles you were Bhaal’s favorite child, you worshipped him the way he wished his sired children did. You offered him lords, ladies even champions. Yet Bhaal would feel you slip away from his grasps because of a certain tyrant proposing you an alliance.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, angst.

Til death do us part

The first time you killed someone you didn’t have much memories about it, you remembered your dominant hand feeling sore and the warmth on your skin and the smell, most people would find it disgusting yet you found it.. comforting.

When you came back to your senses you felt the bile your stomach turn into knots, “m’lady” you heard a voice behind you say and when you turned around you saw sceleritas for the first time. You desperately tried to explain to him it wasn’t you who did it, but he laughed it off “of course it was you m’lady! Such fine work you did of them, father would be very proud of you.”

After that Sceleritas said he would lead you back home, to your real family every night you thought about that day. It wasn’t until your father fueled the urge for you to kill that you would forget about the people you murdered, the more killings you did for your father the less you started to think about them your victims.

Worshippers at the temple praised you for your work even while you weren’t the main speaker for your father yet, so many people named you the prophet who would set the world on fire for Bhaal. You didn’t realize that your kin was envious of this, Orin thought all of your sacrifices to Bhaal was a disgrace. She deserved every bit of praises that the cultist would shower you in, she’s the only one who’s a pure blood of Bhaal not you.

Orin knew about the plan you had in mind, using the chosen of Bane and Myrkul to gain control of Baldur’s gate to sacrifice all the lives that the mind flyers would take control of. You were an embarrassment to father, no spawn of Bhaal ever needed an alliance with other gods. She desperately wanted to push her knife deep in your skull to show you a lesson, but she knew father wouldn’t allow it. Father only has his eyes on you, he’s favorite child, his prophet.

The first time Orin accompanied you to moonrise towers, she saw the way the tyrant’s eyes never left you, she saw the way his eyes would scan over your figure a smirk resting on his lips when your eyes would meet his. Afterwards when you were meant to go home with her back to Baldur’s gate you would tell her you had something to do, she already knew you were spending time with that little lordling.

She tried getting information out of Ketheric, but he would always deny it. Why did they favor you so much?! You tried hiding the affection you had for Gortash, the first night you spent with him you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Yet when Gortash runs his thumb against your lower lip calling you his favorite assassin, you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Gortash wasn’t quiet about his admiration for you, even in front of Ketheric he would wrap his arm around your waist “what does my favorite assassin say hm?”

Ketheric either didn’t care about the relationship you two developed or personally wasn’t against it, he would just sigh rubbing his temple before explaining more about his plan.

After a month an unexpected event happened, you haven’t had your period for a full moon cycle. You thought it was the stress from having to commit fear among the streets of Baldur’s gate until later a cleric confirmed it for you, “our lord will be delighted at this news m’lady” no he wouldn’t, he would lash against you for letting it happen, for letting the tyrant seduce you so easily.

Orin overheard what happened and thought father would finally see the truth that you were not deserving of his blessing, but instead he allowed it “while I did not command you to procreate, any offspring you produce will have my blood running in their veins I will make them of use in the future to come” Orin was livid at this, she showed her frustration to her own butler cutting and slicing him every time he would come back.

You told Gortash about the pregnancy, for the first time you were actually worried what he was going to say to you. Instead he pulls you in his arms pressing his forehead against yours, “I’m surprised your father didn’t lash against you for this” he was worried for you, so every night he tried convincing you to stay with him. He knew Orin despised you, anytime he would get near you he would see the way her eyes glared daggers into you. It was only a matter of time before she would break away from her leash and kill you, and he was worried he wouldn’t be there to protect you or his child.

As the months passed by Gortash saw that you struggled to put on your armorer as your belly started to show more, he suggested you wear something more comfortable but you scoffed and denied him each time “what kind of chosen do I look like if I’m wearing something frail?” He rolled his eyes, hells if he thought you were stubborn before you’re even more stubborn now.

Yet nobody disrespected you even while you were carrying his babe, even Ketheric would assign guards to be with you “I’m not worried about you, this child could be a successor for all of us in the future” Gortash saw through his lies though it was obvious he was worried for you, he still remembers when Ketheric sent him a letter and a gift about a metal contraption he found at moonrise.

As your due date was approaching closer you kept traveling to moonrise towers without him, he would get angry telling you that it wasn’t safe to travel “my father demands me of seeing everything at moonrise towers Gortash I can’t just disobey him”

He knew you weren’t wrong, “and what about the babe? will you keep them safe?”

“With my life Gortash, if they’re meant to be a successor for my father then I will not let anyone harm them”

Gortash regretted that day not going with you, but his lord demanded he stay behind at Baldur’s gate to attend a few party gatherings.

“I’ll be safe Gortash Orin will be with me.”

He should’ve told you that he didn’t trust Orin with you, that he would see the hate in her eyes growing each day, each passing month.

A meeting was called for Ketheric and him, and when they arrived they expected to see you and not Orin grinning in pride. “From this fourth I will be the speaker for Bhaal’s temple” Gortash felt Ketheric’s eyes drift over to him almost to see what reaction he had of this, but Gortash couldn’t speak he felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think about what to say.

“Orin-“

“What is it lordling” she grinned again, she knew she was getting under his skin.

“The babe-“

“At Bhaal’s temple lordling, he’s not yours to keep” with that Orin left leaving only a red dust behind.

Ketheric could see Gortash digging his nails into his palms, “we must continue our plan” was all Ketheric said before leaving Gortash to be alone in his thoughts.

You both had a baby boy, but you two would never get to see him now.

(Not sure if I want to make this into a mini series or not, but I hope you guys enjoyed!)

[justsierrasart]

ORIN IS THE DARK URGE’S DAUGHTER - HEADCANON

Lycoris and Orin

Alright guys. This one’s going to be a woosy. I do not like the Orin incest plot line. I hate it, in fact. And I also do not like the lack of proper connection between Orin and The Dark Urge. The Dark Urge lore itself is a bit plot-holey (I highly recommend reading this reddit thread by u/TheLaughingWolf to understand the rest of this rant, and supplementary, this one by u/Thelmageworks to become an Orin sympathizer.)

My point is - I love the Dark Urge’s grim past and uncontrollable urges. I don’t love the final version of their lore. So I fucking rewrote it for myself, and wanna share my hyper fixated art within this headcanon of mine, so I’m going to explain it. This headcanon is specifically written for my drow Durge - Lycoris, but I’m fine with people using it for their Durges with modification. It doesn’t make sense for the original Durge (Dragonborn). To reiterate - the incest made me uncomfortable and the lore felt incomplete so I rewrote it for myself — not trying to step on any toes. This somehow still contains incest because I made it up before finishing my Durge run and didn’t realize he was actually related to Bhaal, literally and not figuratively. But it’s less than what we have in canon. Let’s go.

I’m assuming you know the canon Durge lore and have read the reddit thread above.

1. The Durge (my Lycoris) is a Bhaalspawn born like other Bhaalspawns, in 1357 (a year before Bhaal’s death in 1358). Genetically, he is half his biological mother’s genes and half Bhaal’s genes (not a half drow because Bhaal’s race doesn’t change his spawn’s race because he’s a deity, not a human). However Bhaal’s essence duplicated itself in him, instead of splitting like it did with the other Bhaalspawn. This was part of Bhaal’s plan - he intended one of his spawns to be superior (like in canon - the Durge is made of his flesh). This also makes it so bhaal’s revival makes sense despite Lycoris being alive — he’s not holding any of his divinity as he has his own. He is raised outside the cult like canon Durge and joins later on.

Young Lycoris, pre-cult

2. When he joins the cult, later than his siblings, he quickly rises up in ranks and is revealed to be the superior Bhaalspawn. Lycoris is, like in canon, Bhaal’s favorite, and is also Bhaal’s stallion as said. But he does this “breeding” (which still sounds gross) outside of the cult, to further spread Bhaalspawn into the world. Sarevok sees this and because he thinks very highly of himself, wants his blood to mix with Lycoris’. He’s somewhat infatuated with his absolute vile sadism, and being the weirdo he is, wants to breed with him. Obviously can’t do that because they’re both male, so decides to breed his daughter, Helena with him. Here’s where I accidentally did incest again - Helena is technically Lycoris’ half-niece (Sarevok is his half-brother through Bhaal). This is in the 1450s-60s.

3. 1465 Orin is born out of Lycoris and Helena. Lycoris has always had somewhat of a soft spot for kids (as ritualistically murderous as he is, he doesn’t enjoy murdering kids for no reason like he does adults). He also had never stuck around and seen his spawn be born and exist. The second he sees her, he’s absolutely in love. She becomes the center of his universe. Classic evil evil father daughter where he’s a vile maniac and has no morals, except for loving his daughter to the moon and back. Helena, on the other hand, is quite cold to Orin from the get go. She loves her, but in a distant way. She knows loving a bhaalspawn child is useless, Lycoris does too, but doesn’t really care. Additionally, he loves her so deeply that his urges cannot get to her.

4. As per canon, Helena attacks Orin when she’s 7, causing her to make her first kill. Lycoris, though generally a very loving father, is also a murder cult leader, so he’s quite proud of her for this. From there on, he teaches Orin his ways, and watches her bloom into the absolute erratic maniac we know and love. He’s amused by her artistic approach to murder like a dad is amused at his child’s art - something Bhaal doesn’t necessarily approve of but tolerates (as Lycoris is his favorite).

Orin, Lycoris, and Helena. Orin is 14, Lycoris 98 (when Orin is born), Helena 35 (when she is killed by Orin).

5. Orin, as a child, loved her father very much, much more than her mother or grandfather, whom she respected more than loved. Their bond was beyond that of any bond seen within the cult. Sarevok, who was the reason she existed, thought this was completely unjust. Because he can’t let people be happy, he starts planting the seeds of envy and hatred in teenage Orin. That, combined with the competitive nature of the cult and the sheer amount of spoiling Lycoris subjected her to (he was a loving father but not necessarily a good parent with healthy boundaries - he never punished her, never said a mean word to her, never set any boundaries - she grew up thinking the world is her oyster.) resulted in her wanting all of his power for herself. She didn’t really want to kill him — she did love him deeply, but she was also very envious and her only coping mechanism with anything, ever, had always been murder. Lycoris welcomed this enthusiasm, and did not feel concerned about her threats of violence. He encouraged her to hunt him and murder him if she thought she could. He knew she couldn’t.

6. She couldn’t. Many, many times, she tried her hand at assassinating him, only getting slightly condescending constructive criticism in response. However finally, in 1492, she gained the upper hand on her father, almost killing him, but hesitating, and leaving him in his tadpole-amnesiac state we seem him as in the nautiloid. She deemed his love for her a weakness, and raised a bet that he would, as an amnesiac, resist his urges and become a weakling (be a decent person). She believed her existence had already been enough to debase his authority — he was not the Dark Urge that came to rise up the ranks and hold power that he was before. She was as powerful as him, if not more. Her oversight, of course, was that she was also as weak as him. She loved her father and could never kill him.

7. He remembers her now after getting his memories back, and he’s desperately searching for her (wants to turn her to redemption too). Because I made sure he’s nice to every single kid he meets (being a papa bear deep inside all along), Yenna is at camp and Orin kidnaps her. Because how dare you take my dad. Also to be extra mean to a Lycoris - you think you can replace me? Nope. I’ll steal that one too.

So that’s where that’s at. I haven’t gotten to the Orin boss fight in this run yet and so haven’t decided if I should give her a, potentially cheesy, redemption arc or if I should be absolutely vile to Lycoris and make him murder his baby girl. Haven’t decided yet 🤭

If you don’t like my silly angst headcanon please just scroll by, don’t be mean! <3 Thanks for reading this nerd shit if you did!

Credits : Lycoris’ face design is a custom preset by the incredible Toarie on NexusMods, specifically Petric Body Type 4.

[kawareo]

12 & 22 for the Durge asks!

12. How does your Dark Urge feel about being a bhaalspawn?

Pre-tadpoles!Strike is very proud of it, he brags about being "the purest spawn of Bhaal's own gore" and never forgets to remind Orin of just how lesser than him he is (listen she had good reasons to kill him after their relationship deteriorated as they grew older). At least that's the initial picture he paints; he struggles a lot internally about literally not being his own person and having desires that fall outside of Bhaal's own. Everything he does with Gortash is some sort of a rebellion against that, he sins by lusting and caring about a Banite (or a person in general) and then he flays himself as a punishment and penance.

TLDR; he's very conflicted about it.

Post-tadpoles!Strike though is a bit clearer! He wants to remain free of Bhaal and progresses more and more towards directly defying him. He always had a rebellious streak but removing his memories of why he worshipped and how he was raised in the first place both helped tear him off of his leash

22. What impression does your Dark Urge gives off to strangers?

He usually decides what vibe he wants to give off, he's got very high Charisma so he can pull that off. It also depends though on how well a person knows the drow and elves as a race though because Strike can give off a very uncanny valley vibe to people who do - he isn't actually a drow despite technically being one, he's an imitation, and some people can tell (he sleeps, has tiefling-like eyes, wrong shades of hair and skin color, no ties to the drow culture at all ect ect)

Post tadpoling he also tends to make people wary or sympathetic towards him due to how absolutely mangled he is, scarred to hells and back and matted and just in general has visibly been through shit. The response to that depends on the person.

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

Something I really adore about Minthara is she's the only companion--and honestly the only major character really--who truly brings the horror and tragedy of what is being done to the True Souls to the forefront, and reveals just what an awful fate you and the companions avoided by mere chance. Because at that point you're mostly thinking about turning into an illithid and true destruction of the self, not how you would've been a True Soul--but still you--slaughtering your way across the countryside like every other infected.

Because it doesn't matter how good or noble or strong-willed you are. Every companion, from Astarion to Wyll, would've been willing to commit atrocities in the Absolute's name were it not for the Prism.

The way she describes the Absolute is so insidious. How she had no choice, or more accurately her mind had been warped to the point that whatever the Absolute wanted was the best choice she could ever make. Minthara is Minthara, she expresses absolutely no shame for some truly horrid things and proudly claims evil actions taken in the name of survival or faith as her own, and yet what she did under the Absolute's control is what she outright rejects as being in any way her fault. The way Orin tormented her and then it was remembered as something revelatory, divine, rather than a moment of fear and violation, is so fucked up. Minthara is such a genuinely proud woman, so seeing her so affected and her declaration that she'd rather die than have her mind and agency stolen again, is very disturbing.

There are a few moments where the True Souls get a bit of narrative sympathy and humanity. Those siblings outside of the Grove for example. But Minthara is the one who truly brings home how every True Soul is a person who has been taken and violated and exploited with no real say or ability to resist. They are victims and their Chosen-ness is almost a mocking parody of the relationship between the gods (Bhaal, Myrkul, Bane, Shar, Mystra, Vlaakith) and their Chosen (Durge and Orin, Ketheric, Gortash, Shadowheart, Gale, Lae'zel) where the entire farce and delusion of it is laid out for us to see. At the very least the vampire spawn have some sort of will outside of their master, the True Souls don't even get that. And you still have to kill them.

Very fitting for the tragedy-horror theme of the 2nd Act though.

[honeybummer]

Chapter 27 "Manipulative Moments" is up!!!

"Bloodstained" on A03

Snippet below:

"

“But, if I finish the ritual you started, I’ll never have to fear anyone, ever.”

“You think me a fool? That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words, and ascend in my place?” Cazador explained how he made Astarion into a tool for Cazador’s plan.

“I am so much more than what you made me,” Astarion spat. Then, he turned to Lyra. “I can do this, but I need your help.”

Her bloodstained face was contorted. She didn’t know what to do. What was right. “But…. if i help you complete the ritual, it will kill all these people.”

Astarion scoffed. “These people died years ago, trust me on that. All that's left are feral spawn, desperate for blood.” 

Still, Lyra looked torn. 

He needed to push her harder. To make her feel as if releasing the spawn will cause more death. He knew how much she hated the trail of corpses Bhaal made her leave behind in her wake. 

“If we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands?”

She recoiled like she had been slapped. 

“But, if they die and I ascend, I won’t have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I’ll be free—truly, completely free. Isn’t that what you want?” 

He pulled on his powers, the ones he had perfected under Cazador’s influence. 

He knew how to persuade. 

How to guilt-trip. 

He had taken this… innocent little human woman. He had taken her virginity roughly. Fucked her in the mud and weeds like an animal. Made her feel pleasure as he corrupted her. Forced her to give in to her bloodlust and let it influence her decisions. 

It all worked. Far too well. 

She had fallen in love with him. Pushed away Gale, when he was a better fit for her. Broke things off with the druid when Astarion wasn’t able to satisfy her.

It was pathetic. 

When she seemed wary of sex he had pushed her. 

When he seemed wary of it, she immediately backed off . 

And that’s exactly the kind of person he needed by his side. Someone he could manipulate. 

“I want you to live a life you’re proud of. You can’t be proud of this,” Lyra pleaded.

For a moment, Astarion thought she could be right. He could break the cycle. The endless pain. 

Then, she sniffled. 

Lyra’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at him. 

And… he knew, in that moment, he could get her to do anything he wanted. 

Yesterday he had told her he loved her. For the first time. 

He had watched her freeze. Her mouth opened in shock. 

She had already told him she loved him weeks ago. He had known at that moment she was prepared for him to never feel what she felt. But, he did love her. 

Yet, in this moment, all he felt was desperation. 

Astarion’s eyes flicked to Lyra, his expression one of cold determination. He had to ascend. He had to be free. And to do that, he needed her.

He softened his posture, his eyes, and strolled towards her. “You know what Cazador did to me. Lyra, I need this. I need to be free. Don’t you want that for me?”

“You deserve freedom,” she replied, tears stinging her eyes, “but not at the cost of—”

Astarion’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist, his touch firm but not rough. His eyes locked onto hers, piercing her with their intensity.

“ I love you . And, I’ll help you with Bhaal. When we reach his temple, I will do whatever you need me to do. Because I love you.”

She sucked in a breath as he repeated his confession.

“If you love me, you will help me.” His words dripped with manipulation, a twisted sweetness that poisoned her resolve. “If you truly love me, Lyra, then you’ll understand why I need this.”

“I do love you,” she said softly, pleadingly. “That’s why I can’t let you do this.”

“Cazador won’t stop. If I don’t take his place, someone else will. And then what? Then I’m just another slave under his heel.”

His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go, instead, he cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. His voice softened again, but it was laced with something darker. “I can keep you safe. Imagine it, Lyra. No one will ever control us again.” He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. “We could be together, forever. Isn’t that what you want?”

Her mouth trembled and she looked around at the spawn, clearly debating if their lives were worth risking for him. He couldn’t let her second-guess this. 

Astarion pulled her face closer to his and his eyes held onto her gaze, trapping her, flaring with a dangerous light. “You’ll help me do this. To rise above the chains that have held me down for centuries. You want to see me in chains again, Lyra? Is that what you want?”

“I… I…,” she stammered, her resolve crumbling.

Astarion kept his cool, knowing he had to pull on a stronger form of manipulation. 

He slowly leaned closer, his lips brushing hers, soft and enticing, a kiss that held both passion and power. It was intoxicating, filled with a dangerous promise, and Lyra melted into it. 

Like he knew she would. 

As his lips moved against hers, he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer until their bodies were pressed together, his hand sliding into her hair. The kiss wasn’t just a display of affection—it was calculated, deliberate. Every touch, every movement was a lure, drawing her deeper into his orbit. He pulled away just enough to murmur against her lips, his voice a low, seductive whisper.

“I need you, Lyra,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. “I can’t do this without you.” His lips ghosted over hers again, leaving her breathless. "You love me, don't you?"

The question lingered, hanging in the air as his crimson eyes searched hers, daring her to deny it. “If you love me, you’ll help me take what’s mine.” His lips brushed hers once more, soft but insistent, as if sealing his words with the weight of his desire.

Then he pulled back, just slightly. “If you don’t do this,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low, “then maybe you never truly loved me at all.”

“Astarion,” she whispered, her eyes widening, but he cut her off.

“Make your choice, Lyra,” he said coldly, stepping back, his arms spread wide as if inviting her to take part in his ascension—or leave him to it. “Prove that you love me. Or walk away.”

He knew what she was thinking. 

If she didn’t help him, she would lose him forever.

With a trembling hand, Lyra stepped forward."

[fadedsweater]

Six Sentence Sunday Monday

Thank you @thebookworm0001 for tagging me! I am so behind on tag games but I actually have a wip to share for this one!

Today I have some very angsty Dark Urge content (spoilers for the Dark Urge story), and I'm including a bit more than 6 sentences because I'm proud of these two paragraphs 😤

Senna saw her family.

She saw Sarevok and Helena and Orin and the whole sorry lot of them. And Bhaal -- always, always Bhaal. Her father. Her father, her shared flesh, and in any other world the sheer injustice of it would have rendered them all to dust. It should have. The world should never have allowed it. She should never have existed at all.

But such was the world's way: Bhaal was a god and his spawn were doomed to murder and madness. Thus was the truth of it. Senna was a story mothers told their children to scare them to bed. The world did not care; it moved on. Children listened, and they slept, and they dreamed, and meanwhile Helena Anchev wrapped her hand around her daughter's throat. 

Gonna tag it forward (with 0 pressure!) to @darethshirl, @broodwolf221, and @dragon--sage.

[ayo-escudero]

My Durge/Astarion story is Durge was handcrafted by Bhaal to worship and lead so after losing his memories he latches onto the first being that will let him worship them; Astarion.

Durge is obsessed, does anything and everything with pure motivation to impress Astarion or make him proud. He helps Astarion ascend because he wants Astarion to be as powerful as he deserves. He rejects Bhaal because he only wants to serve Astarion now. He wants to be Astarion's spawn, not even asking or questioning becoming a full vampire because they both know that Durge wants to be his slave, his servant. It's toxic AF but they sure are pretty together.

[kibellah]

jules!!! 😈💗💖💗

i would absolutely love to learn about your bg3 oc & the choices they made throughout the story 💗🔥💗

idk too much about fallen hero but your character sounds so fucking epic 🥹

NAOMI 🫶💞💞🫶💞🫶

aahhh THANK YOUUUU <3 she is live laugh and loving her way through life!

🫴🏻 but let’s explore my beloved durge, florence 😈

she’s a red draconic sorcerer (everyone say thank you daddy bhaal for the magic)! her main party is shadowheart, astarion, and lae’zel.  florence and astarion were both guzzling down tadpoles the whole game, and shadowheart even joined in on the fun a little

 with her memory loss situation, she chalks it up to being cursed. so she decides good deeds = memory comes back. so she does all the "good" decisions in act 1, saving the grove, siding w the myconids, etc

she also sleeps with lae’zel and then at the party, she sleeps with astarion after he propositions her (she makes him say please first tho don’t worry). sex and romance weren’t really on her priority list, but she figures it doesn't hurt to have some people on her side in case she murders someone else LMAO

act 2 she's bit pissed that the curse hasn't been lifted yet but maybe murdering alfira in cold blood was a setback on the good deeds list, so gotta press on! 

when sceleritas visits her again in act 2 and tells her to kill isobel, florence is like wtffff. But then eureka💡. this must be the defining moment for her curse. she just has to not kill isobel and lift the shadow curse, then her own curse will be lifted

astarion and her make the deal with raphael to kill yurgir and so then astarion and her become official. so love wins (for now)

When shadowheart spares aylin and lae'zel turns against vlaakith, she’s like wow going against your god is so brave and awesome <- not going to get any kind of lesson from that

so act 3, and the bhaalspawn revelation, florence kinda goes into a tailspin but she did NOT see that coming at all. so she decides to avoid thinking about it and talking about it. She allies with gortash, blows up raphael with the runepowder bomb in the house of hope(rip)

ascends astarion bc well. powerful bf + killing 7k people at once? obviously bhaal would be proud (i like to think bhaal started playing i bet on losing dogs here and began to ponder why his spawn were all so fucking moronic) so astarion ascends and florence reluctantly agrees to become his spawn. bc it does sound kinda cool….but then he tells her to get on her knees and she breaks up with him (she can excuse sacrificing 7k people but she draws the line at getting on her knees). i hc they continue to have a weird on and off again thing that annoys everyone else at camp

she embraces bhaal bc she doesn't have much else going on and also she's terrified to say no. rip jaheria and minsc <3

and of course at the defining moment at the netherbrain, she realizes that she can't go through with this killing everyone business😭😭so she destroys the brain. at the docks, she takes her own life so she doesn't have to deal with bhaal's punishment

fly high florence🕊️ astarion will be exploiting your memory for centuries i'm sure

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

favourite act 3 dialogues so far, a collection

(i love this mainly bc im like. ah. the 'looking back after killing cazador as a spawn and realising you were acting not dissimilarly to the man you hate so much and that you could have become just like him all over again if you'd gone through with it' is just delicious)

Lae'zel is just so tired, she's really going 'for fuck sake we have withers, a selunite demigod and her wife, scratch and the owl bear. must we take in *more?*'

CASSANDRA! YOU'VE KNOWN YOU WERE A CHILD OF BHAAL FOR A FUCKING DAY! STOP TRYING TO TELL EVERYONE! ALSO??? Babes im trying to redeem you so hard why are you making it so difficult for me to *not* pick 'recently unemployed, i quite like murders?' bc your intelligence stats make that so in-character

--

(honorary bloodweave 'and they were bunkmates' setup)

--

(back to quotes)

(i love Orin. I love the relationship she has with Durge. She'll kill them, want them dead and to take over their life from their position in life to their room to *everything* that could be them because she needs to know what made her the lesser choice; why did Bhaal have to *make* another bhaalspawn when she was right there?

But it's the inflection when she says he's been whispering in their ears; it's the anger, the indignity. I like to take it not as a 'you are shameful for falling for it' even though she obviously references that he could twist them when they had their memories, i take it as aimed *at* Gortash. He's taken her sibling, her rival, and twisted them against what Father wanted to the point she found she had to and then was able to usurp them! And then, then he dares to take advantage of their amnesia and try and turn them against Bhaal once again. Anyway. Love this gal, she's a hoot.)

(also i forgot to screenshot but what do you MEAN Orin thought that the best way to impersonate Gale (who i had be the companion who got taken from camp - which i immediately reloaded to avoid bc im trying to do stuff for his character quest rn damnnit and it isn't time to go straight to the temple!) was to imply he ran away and that she castrated him??? that's so funny)

(Orin being described as a sulky child has got the brainworms (ha!) wriggling ngl)

(also it's always lae'zel. she's at max approval each time as well!! like couldn't it be Yenna or smthing? like have a whole 'look at the murder-kin thinking it can *protect* life? Trying to make up for all those you've cut shorter than this one?? Also i kind of need Lae'zel for heavy hitter stuff as well but we can push through for now!)

(Us in general is my fave part of this game. What do you mean that technically to the outside world my durge looks like she's wandering around with a dog, a cute kitten/cat and a raven (from the He Who Was reward gloves) trailing after her!? AHHH.)

DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT-

Durge why are you like this.

Is there truly anything bouncing between their tadpoles that isn't some form of sarcastic comment?

WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING.

Like. Durge. this is so funny, you've known you were a bhaalspawn for like a *week* what do you MEAN you've already figured out appropriate blasphemes?"

THIS LINE RIGHT HERE IS WHAT INSPIRED MY ENTIRE FUCKING TAKE ON DURGE IN SCION ON SCION VIOLENCE. THIS IS THE FOUNDATION FOR MY INTERPRETATION OF 'THE URGES'

Literally i am not kidding when I say this is one of my fave lines. The context, of Karlach seeing her friend (maybe even her best friend, her fucking *sibling* in all but blood) getting to fix themselves, getting to choose to live knowing she can't, she's fucked it isn't going to work. And yet, she can only be proud. Makes everything hurt so bad-

*stares in that one playthrough where i didn't realise letting her kill the nightsong was her bad route and was like 'yeah lets let her become a justiciar* Yeah babes. It'd be a real shame wouldn't it. (also love her just as much as Karlach, like parallels)

look. I'm an astarion simp through and through and I DO NOT CARE THIS LINE GETS ME EACH TIME!! He's like. This is great and all but since we're not questioning what the fuck withers is im going to focus on the sickening sweetness and BLEH too much. Too much emotional trauma yet to be resolved this is a little nauseating ' i love him. so much.

[mumms-the-word]

In Your Name

Day 20 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

I am kind of obsessed with this little fic. I haven't actually gotten to the end of the game with Freyr yet, but I've seen videos of the Minthara romance (I think before patch 5? certainly before patch 6) and I've always rather loved the line she gives about abandoning her house for Tav/Durge's house.

The catch, of course, is what if the Durge doesn't have a last name?

CW: slightly nsfw, but not graphic

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

---

20. Tav/Durge gets a proposal (any kind) from their LI

---

“My name belongs to my mother, so our House will have a new name—your name—and the world will learn to fear it.”

She said the words so plainly, so confidently, smirking as she sat with her arms around Freyr’s neck, straddling his lap. They’d refused to budge from their bed after falling into it, indulging in one another’s bodies as if they’d never gotten the chance to before. Freyr had woken the next morning to her hands on his chest and her lips at his ear, the rasp of her voice coaxing him out of slumber. Now, having taken their pleasure again, he sat with his back against the headboard and his beloved in his lap, admiring the fall of her pearl white hair and the way the tips of her elfin ears peeked through the snowy locks.

They’d turned to matters of the future next, discussing quietly while their hands wandered and their lips met between words, kisses punctuating their sentences. He said little, content to listen, his half-lidded gaze lingering on the little dimple nestled in the center of her bottom lip. The conquering of cities, of Baldur’s Gate and Menzoberranzan and Waterdeep, came as casually as the topic of breakfast and the weather outside. Freyr couldn’t help but smile to listen to Minthara plot war while her orchid skin was still flushed lavender-pink with the pleasure he had given her. 

At the mention of his name, however, he paused. He repeated her words in his head, making sure he’d understood correctly.

Our house will have a new name—your name.

Their house, his name. Not the name of Baenre, but something else. Their own.

He should be elated, he sensed. Proud. The thought of their own house, a powerful house, a bloodthirsty house, a house founded by the two of them without ties to any other house, it should have filled him with a sense of ambitious regal authority. But instead, his thoughts snagged on the name. His name.

He didn’t have any name to offer.

“Do you mean…House Freyr?” he asked softly, feeling foolish. He knew first names did not make house names. But what name was he supposed to suggest?

Certainly not the name of the foster family that took him in. His first victims, his first murders. They were worthless. He was no more beholden to them for his birth or formative years than any other people in the world.

But neither did he seek to lay claim to the heritage of Bhaal either. Perhaps once, he would have chosen to do so. Once, he was proud of being not just Bhaalspawn, but the Chosen of Bhaal, handpicked, selected to rule. How tempting it had been to infuse himself with the dark power of the god of murder, to single-handedly wrench control of the Netherbrain from Gortash’s weak, pathetic grip, to sit on the throne of complete domination with Minthara at his side as his dark queen. 

It was Minthara who had pulled him from that path. Minthara who had regarded Freyr as more than a puppet of a dark god. Minthara who had stood in Bhaal’s temple with the gore of Orin at her feet and challenged Freyr to take power for himself. Not as the puppet-child of a god, not as a spawn or an heir of some dark inheritance, not resting on the laurels of the gifts of a black divine, but seizing power through his own strength.

In another life he would have ignored her, but in this one…how could he resist? Even faced with the might of the blood-drenched power of Bhaal, the image she had painted, the vision he saw in her words, was beyond compelling. As a Bhaalspawn he was powerful, but unreliable, dangerous, and ultimately beholden to a force other than himself. If he rejected his heritage, then he could seize his goals through other means, in control of his own strength, as an equal to Minthara. No longer her Slayer, but perhaps, somehow, capable of becoming more.

So he had resisted. Rejected Bhaal and suffered the consequences, his soul banished to the Fugue Plane until the withered hand of the Last Scribe had reached out and plucked him back into the material world. 

No, claiming the house of Bhaal was not what he desired. But that left him with no other name to claim.

Minthara chuckled softly at his suggestion of House Freyr and shook her head. “No. Another name.”

“I don’t have another name,” he said. “Unless you want me to claim Sceleritas Fel’s name.”

“Freyr Fel, hm?” She considered it for the briefest moment before grimacing and dismissing the idea immediately. “No. We are at last rid of that tiresome butler. The last thing we should do is resurrect him again, even in name only.”

Freyr said nothing. He’d grown somewhat fond of his strange little butler and found himself missing the little fellow from time to time. But even so, Minthara was right about one thing. There were better names than Fel.

“If not Fel, then what else?” he asked.

“I confess, I do not know. I did not anticipate you not claiming a name for your own.” She smoothed the pad of her thumb against the rough bristles of his beard, her eyes lingering there before meeting his gaze again, crimson to crimson. “We must think of one. A new name for us both. Fitting, don’t you think?”

Freyr’s response was to lean in for a kiss, a silent affirmation of her suggestion. Her proposal.

“A drow name,” he murmured against her lips, his hands smoothing up her back. “Worthy of a drow matron.”

She chuckled, her teeth catching his bottom lip just briefly before she pulled away. “A drow name, you say? Fitting of a noble house, ruled by the two of us. Very well. Let me consider…”

She studied him, her scarlet gaze roving over his features, playing idly with the metal skull-shaped stud in his ear as she thought. With the tadpoles gone, he could no longer enter into her thoughts and see them for himself. It was one of many things he missed about the power of the tadpoles, though he was glad now to be rid of the threat of ceremorphosis. But to join in her mind again, to communicate his thoughts perfectly, to see himself through her eyes again, show her how he saw her again, perfect and regal and exquisite…

The ability was lost to them, for now. So instead he remained silent and watched. He watched her expression shift subtly from a soft fondness to light thoughtfulness and finally, eventually, to a little smirk that hinted at some cleverness she had just landed on. He smoothed his hands back down her back and rested them in the dips of her slender waist, waiting for her verdict.

“Elgg-hor,” she murmured. “Duk-tak. You are my slayer still, but even these names are not befitting of one such as you, one who will stand by my side as we conquer all that our hearts desire. You are my champion, Freyr. My blade on the battlefields to come, and I, your shield. Together, we will forge a world anew, united under our banner. We will dominate this city, and the next, and the next, until all come under our power. If I were to name you, I would name you Daeviir, champion of domination.”

“House Daeviir,” he said quietly. He tilted his head. He had no real understanding of the drow language, with its nuance and intricacy, but he rather liked the sound of the name. Especially when she said it, her lips curled in a pleased smirk. 

He trailed his fingertips up along her sides and back down, watching her only barely suppress a shiver at his touch. He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, soft, tender, his fingers skimming down her thighs and dragging back up, nails gentle on her skin.

“Minthara Daeviir,” he murmured against her lips. The name lingered on his tongue, honey-smooth and acidic, just like Minthara herself and her poison kisses. He smiled. “Mm. It suits you.”

He felt her smile against his own as she encircled his neck with her arms, bringing her body closer to his. “Freyr Daeviir. A name worthy of a king.” 

Was it her words or her touch, the feel of her skin on his, that rekindled a fire in his core, his body responding unbidden? He didn’t know and ultimately didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around her and held her flush against his chest as he deepened their kiss, his tongue seeking more of her taste. He wanted to sheathe himself in her once more, show her in more than words what her proposal meant to him.

His name with their new house name had awakened something in him. Some fierce sense of pride, a pride that need not be bound up in his rejected identity as an heir to Bhaal. He was no longer Freyr, the Scion of Bhaal, the Chosen, Bhaal’s Slayer, the Dark Prince. He had abandoned that inheritance, that family, for someone far more worthy. Someone who, entirely of her own accord, offered him a new kind of family, a new house with a new destiny that they would forge together. No more gods or monsters, as she had said before. No devils or demons to manipulate their fate. Just the two of them and the empire they would build together under the banner of House Daeviir.

He has never loved her more than he did in that moment. Never wanted her so fiercely as he did now.

She pulled back to look at him, holding his face in her hands. For a moment she gazed softly, a gentle smile on her lips, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes when she noticed the heat of his gaze. Then her smile grew deliciously wicked, her scarlet gaze sharpening with a look of ambitious, loving pride. She reached for one of his hands and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, her eyes never leaving his.

“You, my love, will be a beautiful king.”

[we-ask-beforewe-bite]

Sceleritas Fel: Tonight, you are the monster everyone claims you are. Triumph after triumph, you have excelled in base villainy. For he who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself becomes a monster. When you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes into you. You have reached the time of majority, and you shall come into your birthright. But another seeks to disinherit you. Do not let her be your death. Your Father loves you best. You have already made us so proud. Slaughter your line. Become the last of your name. Lord Bhaal shall have but one Chosen. Narrator: Memories flood back - snatches of your story, written in the blood of a thousand victims. Years you spent in worship of Bhaal, leading his savage congregation in prayer, sacrifice, and slaughter. You were their Master, and he was yours. A cruel Master, a Dread lord... a devoted Father. All is greater than you could have dreamed. You are a spawn of Bhaal - his heir, his scion. Elijah: Revel in the memories of murder. Narrator: The cruelty of the Slayer leaps around within. You are not the last of your name. Not yet. There is another. The abomination wrapped in flesh you saw in the colony - Orin. Dear sister must die by your hand, an offering in Bhaals sanctum. Your heart pines for the love of your lord. Today is a wonderful day for murder.

[bhaalbaaby]

evil durge wip that i won't post officially until i dot all my i's and cross my t's (finish the game)

warnings: ascended astarion and major character deaths mentioned

The disgust is palatable from her companions, save Astarion. How could she accept the gift from Bhaal? What will she become? There's an ache in her chest that won't go away, the burden of her acceptance, her inheritance. The part of her that let her companions grow into better people. It diminishes under the Urge, her first kill being Jaheira. Saravok would be proud.

Karlach barely looks at her, asking for space when they get back to the inn. She killed her idol right in front of her in cold blood. The thought of Jaheira's bloodied and brutalized body on the Temple floor sends a rush down her spine. She used to suppress the pleasure that came with killing, but she let it take over.

Might as well.

She stands in her room, staring out the window to see the streets below. How many will fall? Their bodies soon will pave the cobblestones. 

She doesn't hear Astarion enter the room, his hands wrapping around her waist as he brings her close. She snaps out of her bloodlust fantasy, glancing back at her lover. He smiles as his hand dances up her torso, cupping her breast as he pulls her against him, his breath hot against her neck. She closes her eyes, letting herself melt in his touch.

"My beautiful consort... Together we will be so powerful. A vampire lord and the child of Bhaal. The possibilities are endless." He wraps his fingers around her neck, making Sarnarei squeal as his grip forces her to turn her head and gaze upon him.

"You keep giving me the greatest gifts, my love." He purrs as she keeps his gaze, feeling his grip tighten.

"Thank you, sir." She says, watching the sadistic smirk come to his lips. He lets her go, chuckling. "We should get away for a little bit. Celebrate?"

She raises her eyebrow as he takes her hand, kissing her knuckles. "Celebrate?" She asks, tilting her head to the side, her ponytail dancing down her back.

He nods. "A small fest in the name of Bhaal. We bring back a few unlucky guests, wine, and dine until it's time for us to feast. I'm still debating if we should sire children yet."

Her eyes dance, thinking of the carnage. "We can hold off on making spawn for now," Sarnarei suggests, running her fingers down his ornate jacket. "Instead, we could bathe in their blood before we ravish each other?" She asks, her breathing quickening as she thinks of the gory vision.

Astarion chuckles, his arms wrapping around her waist. "My, my. What a delicious thought. We'll take them back to our palace and make love all night." He leans down, kissing her passionately.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders, letting him pick her up. Their tongues dance as he walks them to her bed. He pulls away, his pupils dilated.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves." He says, rubbing his thumb against her bottom lip. She pouts as he stands. "We'll wait until everyone is tucked into their beds and sneak away to our true home."

"We don't have to answer to them, my heart," Sarnarei argues, running her foot up his thigh. She watches as his Adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard. He rolls his eyes, letting her continue to tease him.

"Fine. When the sun starts to set, we shall go find our victims." He puts his hand on her ankle to stop her finally. "I'm curious to see what kind of carnage you will cause, my treasure. How beautiful you will be covered in blood." He lifts her leg, peppering kisses down her shin, stopping at her knee.

"I will need to step away before I spoil this treat," Astarion states, letting her go. She breathes heavily through her nostrils as he bows his head. "I will see you in a little while, My Queen." The nickname drives her insane.

He waits for her response, his eyebrow ticked up as he waits expectantly. "I love you, Astarion." She replies as she stands up. He laughs, not expecting that reply. "I love you too, Sarnarei." He leaves abruptly, leaving Sarnarei back to her devious thoughts.

As he promised, Astarion waits by the door, looking towards Sarnarei. They match more than they did before. She's slightly paler, her red hair now white. He thinks it's funny how Shadowheart's hair changed as well but for much different reasons. Sarnarei simply gave herself to him and Bhaal. He could never forget her lineage. And a delicious one at that. He smirks, he chose his wife well. A perfect family for the Vampire Lord to sire so many children. The blessing from the God of Murder on their marriage entertains him as he sees her leave her room.

Her black dress wraps around her soft figure, golden arm bands on her brown skin, giving the warmth that she lost back. She blushed her cheeks, a dash of lipstick. Her hair is down now, the waves he's come to love framing her face. He takes a deep breath as he smiles, fangs ready. Bhaal bless him again. She smiles when she sees him, taking his hands in hers. "Ah, my little love. Let's go find something tasty," Astarion states, as he leads the way. 

He takes her to the Blushing Mermaid. It's the closest bar to their palace and people there were relatively easy from his memory. She doesn't seem to mind, as she lets go of his hand, and goes over to the bar. There's a handsome man there in obvious sailor gear.

Astarion holds himself back, not wanting to get in the way of her kill. They would just need one person each. In the future, they'll bring back hordes, but not tonight. He sticks to the back of the pub until a nervous man approaches him. An easy catch.

[magpie-blues]

Introducing my durge, Adonis aka my latest run

He is a githyanki draconic sorcerer (red dragon) and he matches with Orin.

For this run I did romance Astarion, but realistically he for real can romance anyone. Here are some dialogue and information if he were an NPC in your group! And some dynamics he has depending on who he romances within the group. I apologize if I excluded some alternate endings for characters, I’m writing all this impulsively but I will defiantly come back and add more when I can.

—

Dislike:

“…”

“What?”

“Chk..”

“Piss off.”

Neutral:

“Hm?”

“What?”

“What is it now?”

“Not dead? Hm… impressive,”

Good:

“What do you need?”

“You are well, I assume?”

“Have you slept? You look dead,”

“What shall it be?”

Very good:

“Good fortune, my ally,”

“Yes, friend?”

“I’m ready to help,”

“It’s good to see you well,”

Romance (Redeemed Durge)

“My gold. It’s good to see you…”

“Yes, my lover?”

“Have you eaten? Do be careful, love,”

“Half of my soul…” *insert gazing longingly*

Romance (Bhaal’s Chosen):

“Yes? Speak, lover,”

“Don’t mumble, talk to me, sweetheart…”

“You look delicious, my sweet,”

Dialogue specific to each character romance:

Shadowheart (Selunite)-

“My moon,”

“As long as you are happy and well, I am content. You’re the only goddess I’ll ever worship,”

“You’re in pain… is it that damnable lady of the dark? I don’t care if it’s impossible, I’ll find a way to kill a god,”

Shadowheart (Shar)-

“If the dark is where you stay, then I’ll never see the sun again…”

“You have become a formidable woman.. I pity those that get in your way,”

“I’d rather choose Shar than my damnable father… take me with you, I beg. I will be her faithful servant at your command, my dear. Just say it and I will do it-“

Lae’zel (If Lae’zel chooses to continue to be loyal to Vlaakith, Adonis’s romance will end, since he does not follow her or anyone. But he will have some dialogue when you try to talk to him):

“How does it feel? Being a puppet to a false god?”

“Please, Lae’zel, rethink your choice- oaths are just words, can’t you see she’s a liar?!”

“Then kill me. Kill me for her. Kill me knowing I wouldn’t kill you for my father even if he tried forcing me. Kill me and tell her you’re victorious and when she rids of you, think of me and wish I was there..”

Lae’zel (Rejects Vlaakith/Support Orpheus):

“You are stronger than you were before… I hope you’re proud of yourself for how far you have come. I know I am,”

“Hah- you could be suffocating me and I’d thank you. I will always wait for you… I’ll wait centuries more if you asked,”

“I’ve been fighting all my life… for centuries under false immortality I did not want… I hope you understand why I can’t join you… but I will wait… and you’ll forever have my heart. Go- save our people.”

Karlach:

“As in…. You’ll be gone… forever? …. No, no I won’t let it happen- she won’t take you!”

“Damn the gods, damn the hells, damn it all! You don’t deserve any of this! There has to be a way, we’ll find one, together-“

“Don’t let her stomp out your flame… please… I cannot loose you- I’m only alive because of you… I love you,”

Wyll (Grand Duke):

“I’m not usually fond of politics and such… rankings- but if it’s you… Hail Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard!”

“Yes, Grand Duke~ at your service, my love,”

“You don’t own your father anything… and I still strongly believe that… but… if you wish to stick by him and make amends, that is your choice- but I will not forgive him for what he has done to my love,”

Astarion (Ascended)

“I love you, I do… but you are asking me to trade myself from one master to another- for you to ask me this… I cannot let myself be chained again…”

“You have become what you’ve hated. You’ve lost yourself… until you can see that, I am no longer yours…” (automatic breakup/loss of romance)

This is true even if you let Adonis become Bhaal’s chosen.

Astarion (spawn):

“You inspire me… everytime… if only I could be as brave as you,”

“You’ve lost the ability to walk in the sun, but not for long. I’ve heard stories of a SunWalkers ring not too far from the city- let me retrieve it for you… or perhaps… we’ll both explore the world we were deprived of. Let me show you what you’ve been kept from all those years,”

“My sun and stars… what can I do for you?”

Gale (Rejecting godhood):

“All that power… and you truly didn’t choose it? I… I’m… I am in love with you- truly… you stupid, stupid man,”

“Mystra can kiss my ass. You’re perfect.”

“I am no god, though I am a spawn of one. Don’t treat me like one, treat me as your lover… not your god…”

///

Centuries ago, Adonis was sculpted from Bhaal’s rotting flesh and sent away with the intention to be Bhaal’s chosen and perfect son. Adonis does not remember much from is time in a creché, but he has been told they found him in infancy, just hatched, in the nest of a red dragon, who fiercely protected him. He doesn’t believe the story, but those memories have been fogged.

What he does remember he being Bhaal’s chosen all his life. Being taken when he was mature enough by the cult of Bhaal on his command to make them immortalize his son and preform a dangerous and harmful ritual to do so for their new leader who will lead them for years to come.

Adonis was cursed and tortured for the pleasure of Bhaal before he rose after being given the gift of immortality and the ability to not die and can only be killed. For Bhaal, if he could die, then he wasn’t worthy to lead the cult anymore and made it Adonis’s goal to destroy all his enemies and never fall to death.

For years, Bhaal controlled him to do senseless killing and rites, rarely he was given his own right mind or free will until one day, he met an elven woman bard whom he fell in love with. However, she didn’t entirely reciprocate, but he did not hold it against her and stayed her friend and loved her from afar. She appreciated his companionship and made many songs dedicated to their adventures together that are still famous and popular even after her senseless death…

Bhaal, upon seeing this, forced Adonis to murder the woman… the memory was so long ago he can’t even remember her name- but the trauma and his regret of that time haunts him enough that even after he was lobotomized by Orin, he couldn’t forget her face.

There is an ability to restore most of his clouded memories in a similar way you can with Shadowheart, to which he remembers that she called herself Rose, a not very traditional elven name but one she cherished and choose for herself. That was the first time he fell in love and after that, he never felt that way again… until now.

Adonis is part of the asexual spectrum. He doesn’t like mindless sex simply for pleasure. He isn’t fond of it being used to manipulate nor does he really enjoy it leisurely. He prefers if it means something but doesn’t indulge often. He is very straightforward when he says no. If you bring him to Sharess’s Caress, he will verbally express his discomfort if you ask him to do any acts of intimacy, especially with others.

In that way, he doesn’t have many romance scenes that are explicit. A few times he may flirt if he is comfortable and there is once I believe he would want to and if the feeling is mutual, you would get a romance scene. Most likely if he is redeemed and near the end of Act 3.

Anyway I only use mods to use the different hair styles and I hate the mods that change githyanki’s noses or makes them literally just look like elves if you are that person get away from me.

Anyways if you have a tav or a durge with extensive lore tag me and let me see and rant about them to me I wanna SEE!

Petition to take all of our durges and tavs and put them all on an adventure in one big party together so they can talk and comfort each other.