#sorry more Bloodweave

[thecrowsinkwell]

Cuddles ⋆˙⟡♡

They both deserve softness.

[mysticalfg]

Tiktok sound got to me but it's what he deserves

[star-bear-art]

halsin 100% knows she's looking

[tumbleweed-run]

Observations

Kinktober 2023 Day 19 Voyeurism

Astarion found that sometimes when he had no desire to join in with Tav and Gale, he enjoyed watching them have sex.

Sometimes, the mood struck and he would join them in the middle or even near the end of their lovemaking. Strangely, they didn’t complain and easily accommodated his late arrival. Sometimes, he didn't want to join them and instead touched himself while watching. And sometimes, he just wanted to watch and his cock took almost no interest in what was going on.

He could never tell what the outcome would be.

Tonight when Tav invited him into their room he’d accepted, knowing that, at least for now, he was going to claim his spot on the windowsill nearest the bed. Gale, irritatingly enough, took notice of this and nodded like he understood the meaning. Maybe they did. Somewhere around the time Tav was sitting in Gale’s lap, back to his chest, and she opened her eyes to find him watching as the wizard trailed kisses down her neck she’d reached out her hand and asked if he wanted to join them. He’d declined.

That was that.

As it was every time this exact scenario happened. He’d separate himself. One of them, usually Tav, would ask if he wanted to join them somewhere in the beginning. As soon as he’d decline they would leave it, no pouting or cajoling. Hells, they never asked again. Astarion would sometimes tell them no, even when he wanted to, just to see their reaction. Every time they took him at his word and left him alone.

It was still a strange feeling for Astarion when his no was met with unequivocal acceptance.

Gale’s hand was now in between Tav’s legs, and he was whispering something so softly in her ear that all Astarion could hear was the rush of his breath. She was whimpering as she ground against the wizard’s hand. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shut.

Gale was still fully clothed, whereas Tav was naked.

The wizard asserted dominance in subtle ways like that. He was quiet and gentle dominance, where Astarion made sure you knew who in the room was in charge. Gale rarely inflicted pain instead he withheld or on the opposite end, overstimulated. Astarion knew the line between pain for pleasure and pain for hurting and happily inflicted it on the willing. The wizard liked sweet words of praise and soft reassurances, saving his filthy mouth for other activities. Astarion preferred commanding with his tone and cruel words that were only softened by his lovers reactions. Tav enjoyed both of them, shining like the sun when Gale called her his sweet love or some other nauseating poetry and then flushing as she became dripping wet when Astarion called her a whore.

It was strange knowing these two so intimately to know these things. He was always good at reading people but this knowledge lived inside him.

Which was why it was little surprise when Gale made a show of licking his fingers, glistening with Tav’s arousal. Sex was a rare moment when the wizard would cease his mindless ramblings to put his tongue to better use. Tav, Astarion, it didn’t matter. The wizard liked things in his mouth.

Astarion’s cock twitched with the memory of the other man’s tongue working along it similarly. He pressed his palm against it, not sure if he wanted to do anything just yet.

Tav was also watching Gale, writhing, hips seeking contact where there was none.

Gale offered his fingers to her a string of spit stretching from his mouth to them obscenely. She accepted, drawing them into her mouth. As she began sucking, Gale’s hips bucked upwards, jostling her slightly. He groaned, allowing her to continue sucking for a moment. She keened when he removed them.

Astarion’s hand moved lazily against his cock, fabric of his trousers dulling the sensation slightly.

Gale had her stand from his lap and crawl onto the bed. She waited on all fours, legs spread exposing her wet cunt to Astarion. The wizard stood, pulling off his shirt. Astarion had anticipated him using this position to bury his face into her. He was a little surprised when instead, Gale pressed a finger back into her.

From the sound Tav made, she too was surprised. She leaned forward a moment as if away from Gale’s finger but then almost immediately rocked back. Gale’s free hand landed on her lower back, pressing down lightly as if to hold her in place. She stilled even as he added more fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out. Tav moaned, head hanging low below her shoulders so Astarion could no longer see her face.

Gale leaned over her, more soft words he could only hear the whisper of. Her response was to moan louder. The wizard withdrew his fingers, there was a mutter of incantation, and then they were coated in oil.

Astarion had used magic during sex before, though from him it centered more on disguises. Gale on the other hand used it as an extension of himself. The mage hand was a personal favorite, whereas Tav preferred various ice spells. On a whole things would be a lot more tedious without the magically appearing oils.

At first when Gale pressed his fingers back inside of Tav Astarion was confused. Then in a barely there movement Gale pressed his thumb gently against the pucker of Tav’s ass. She moaned loudly in response. Astarion shifted, partially so he could see better and in part so he could free his cock.

Gale was far gentler with Tav than he was with Astarion as he gently worked his thumb past the resistance of that little ring. For once she wasn’t growing impatient with how slow the wizard was moving. She was only rocking back slightly against him, the fingers in her cunt still moving. Astarion watched, rapt.

This was something new, as far as he was aware they’d never done this. The way Gale handled the situation was, unfortunately, not an indicator.

Astarion stroked his cock, subconsciously in time with the speed of Gale’s fingers. He even stilled when Gale withdrew them. Tav collapsed onto her elbows.

Gale was quick to remove his trousers. The way his cock slapped against his skin when free annoyingly made Astarion’s mouth water. He doubted he would ever forgive his body for the way it reacted for the irritating wizard. Even more and more, he was growing annoyed with his mind for the soft thoughts that occasionally filtered in about him.

Gale climbed up onto the bed behind Tav and blocked Astarion’s view of her. He stood and shifted towards the side of the bed. A quick glance from Tav, head still bowed, was the only indication either of them gave to his presence. 

Gale gripped his cock and teasingly swiped it from as far up between Tav’s ass as he could reach to her clit. He did this several times until she was rocking back towards him, tempting him to press into her. When he finally pressed into her cunt she sighed, happy and relieved. Gale began to thrust, but not without angling his still well-oiled fingers so he could press one into her ass. 

Tav’s breath hitched as the wizard worked his finger deeper into her than before. Gale froze, ever in tune to her responses, until she urged him on thrusting back once again. He resumed his movements almost instantly. 

Astarion was happy to watch them even as he stroked his cock a little faster, deciding now that he’d get off from this. 

Neither of them acknowledged him still, both of them lost in this little world. Tav’s moans were near constant, noises escaping her even as she inhaled. With the way she was squirming, fingers gripping tightly to the sheets below her, she was close. Gale was a little quieter only little grunts escaping each time he thrust into her. He was watching the way he fucked his finger into her in time with each of his thrusts, the whole thing disappearing now. Astarion found himself equally mesmerized. 

He didn’t know what had prompted the wizard to try this with her but suddenly his own mine was filled with many ideas he wanted to try. For once, Astarion really hoped he and Gale were on the same page about something. 

Gale barely pressed the fingertip of a second finger into Tav when she came, gasping the wizard’s name. He allowed her her time, letting her ride out each and every wave of her orgasm until she was still and panting. Only then did Gale remove his fingers to grip her hips, pace near brutal as he chased his own release. Astarion’s hand matched his pace. 

Gale came with a curse spilling out of his mouth, like always pinning their hips together and rolling his hips as he came. 

Once the wizard had still and he pulled out of Tav Astarion climbed onto the bed behind him. Reaching around the man he drug his fingers through the mess between Tav’s legs. She whimpered, still sensitive from her orgasm. He quickly slicked the mixture of oil, arousal, and cum along his cock before grinding it against Gale’s ass. He didn’t thrust into him, just between the globes of his ass. 

The wizard didn’t protest, his mouth blissfully quiet as he allowed Astarion to rut against him. Astarion gripped Gale’s hips moving faster. It didn’t take long, his own orgasm hitting quickly. His hips stuttered and he came onto the other man’s back. Astarion allowed himself a few more thrusts, letting his own cum mingle with his already profane mixture on Gale’s back.

[lewis-winters]

Day 13: Fear

Part of my OC-tober 2022 (that will get fucking finished in 2024 so help me god)! Well. We're indulging this time around with some Baldur's Gate 3 on my Band of Brothers/HBO War Blog. I guess. Honestly, with how many OCs I have in other fandoms, I might just start playing around with them for this prompt list, too!

tw: If you're starting to notice a pattern in my writing with parenthood, in iterations of both problematic or good, uuuuuhhhh no you fucking don't.

They’ve been sitting by the fire in the Elfsong tavern for a whole of hour, in perfect silence, before Jaheira chooses to break it. “You will not return upstairs.”

It’s not a question. Still, Pasiphaë answers it as one. “Not until they’re all in bed. I’ve no patience right now,” she tells her with a deep sigh. “For anyone or myself. I… do not like who I was today.”

Belligerent. Jumpy. Too slow to react, too impulsive in her decisions. Near unrecognizable, as compared to her original cool and collected demeanor at the beginning of their journey. She expected better of herself, and her companions definitely deserved better than the kind of mess she’s become. But they’ve been running on near fumes for the past few days, having been tossed about here and there by Mystra, Shar, Lorroakan, cultists, Orin, and Cazador, all alike. On top of that, Serafina had decided to join in on their quest, despite Pasiphaë’s explicit orders for her to get out of the city while she still could—truly, there was a time when her sweet little girl would obey her with no question, but alas! she’s inherited her other mother’s bullheaded-ness. Pun intended. Not for the first time, Pasiphaë found herself wishing that Melisandre were still around to share in her pride over their daughter’s immense bravery. The abrupt reminder of what she no longer had—after several months of not thinking about Mel even once—had been enough to throw her off her rhythm completely. The day had already started being kind of shit.

Ulder Ravengard and his unfortunate decision to mouth off about his son’s new appearance was the last straw.

“I lost my temper.” The verbal dressing down was spectacular while it was happening. Invigorating, even. Pasiphaë doesn’t remember the last time she’s felt such catharsis. After the months of non-stop action, it was good to release it all.

It was the stunned silence afterward that felt particularly… damned. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Bah, he deserved it,” Jaheira scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “He is better off for listening to your wisdom.”

“Calling whatever that was ‘wisdom’ is too generous.”

“But it is what it is: a mother’s wisdom.”

Pasiphaë snaps; “I’m not Wyll’s mother,” and Jaheira tilts her head back and lets out a hearty HA! loud enough to draw the attention of other patrons.

“You are not just his mother, that is for sure,” Jaheira says, wagging an admonishing finger at her. “All of them seem to have attached themselves to you like little suckling pups to a bitch’s teats.”

“Your metaphors leave much to be desired, Jaheira.”

“You were protecting your pup, is what I mean,” Jaheira shrugs. “Even if it is from his own blood. Wyll holds you under no contempt for such a display. I may even go so far as to say that he’s grateful for it.”

“Perhaps.” Oh, but Wyll loves his father so—even when the man has done nothing but abandon him. Pasiphaë knows it isn’t right to get between father and son, not as a simple party member, and most certainly not while one still holds out hope for reconciliation. She might’ve just ruined Wyll’s chances back there, with her vindictive nature and even sharper tongue. If she had, would he ever forgive her?

As if reading her thoughts, Jaheira tsks. “We mothers, we always want what is best for our children. Nobody can fault us for that.” There’s a small smile on her face; a tiny quirk of the corner of her lip that feels conspirative. Like they’re in on a joke together.

Technically, they are. Pasiphaë smiles back. Or tries to. “Whatever you say.”

Their conversation, once again, falls to silence. Patrons come and go, and the tavern keeper’s boy comes once and twice to stoke the fires until, finally, they fizzle out into glowing embers. The night grows even quieter soon after, with the patrons quickly disappearing out the door, or into other rooms, until, finally, it is just them, and the occasional drunkard outside.

“You can go. Rest,” Pasiphaë says, aware that it is late. Tomorrow (later?), they are to confront Gortash. “We’ll need all our strength come morning.”

“You are determined to keep vigil.”

“Someone has to.”

“If I were to climb up those stairs, I would not be surprised to see some of your pups waiting for you by their fire,” Jaheira chuckles, standing up with an exaggerated groan—her knees are not what they used to be. “No doubt, they will send me back down again—or even come down themselves—if I return empty handed. Come, now.”

She offers her hand.

Pasiphaë stares at it.

Something in her chest shudders with anxiety and—is it her imagination? The tadpole behind her eye, wriggling with a sordid kind of glee?

“I fear I cannot be to them what they need me to be, Jaheira.”

Jaheira frowns, confused. Still, she keeps her hand out. “And what is that?”

What, indeed? A leader? With the amount of times she’s failed them? Perish the thought. A caretaker? Barely. Her hands are not made for healing, anymore. Certainly not with the Triad’s silence and her simmering resentment over it. And what comfort she could give is quickly dwarfed by the enormity of all their suffering. What use is a lullaby, when she couldn’t even hold Karlach enough to soothe her tears? What use is her sword, when it can scarcely keep Lae’zel from the betrayal of her kin, queen, and god? Clearly, Pasiphaë couldn’t even call herself a protector—just two days ago, she’d failed to protect Astarion from his worst possible self, leaving the burden to Gale, instead; and just last tenday, Shar had taken from Shadowheart her last connection to her past, while all Pasiphaë could do was helplessly watch. Hells, she certainly couldn’t protect Wyll, who only ever looked to her for wisdom and guidance. Or even Gale, whose final decision haunts them all—Astarion, especially, who has begged her over and over again to make Gale see reason. But how could she, when all she could think about is his fate as both Faithless and Discarded? She understands too well the challenge that lays before him to possibly talk him out of his task in any way that matters. The blasted Wall remains a prominent phantom in Gale’s mind as much as hers; but while she’s resigned to her own fate, that doesn’t mean he should be, too.

Gods, but what will she tell Morena, then? Tara? Astarion? That she let their beloved boy die, simply because the folly of the gods and their selfish nature was too strong for her to fight? No. That would not do.

And yet. She hesitates.

“If I am their mother, as you say I am,” she tells Jaheira. “I am a shit mother. My Melisandre would be ashamed to see how poorly of a mother I am being.”

Jaheira knits her brows together. “Your partner?”

“Yes.” Her beloved. The mother of her children. The balm to her soul. The light in her darkness; Pasiphaë is never going to see her again. “She was always better at this than I—my children—I was never—”

“Serafina seems to adore you.”

“Now,” Pasiphaë entreats, feeling the blasted tadpole wriggle and squirm behind her stupid eyes the more distressed she becomes. “I have failed her before, terribly, and it was only time that allowed those wounds to heal. Time is not on my side, now. If I fail them—when I fail them—”

She stops. She cannot bear to think of it. But it is inevitable. “I fear that it is not a matter of if, but when I fail them, Jaheira. I am cursed to repeat my mistakes. And when I do… gods when I do…”

“You will not.”

“You are a fool to—”

“Ha!” Jaheira barks, snatching back her offered hand to reach out and shake Pasiphaë by the shoulders. Like she were a kitten being pulled back by her scruff. Gone is the amicable, conspiratorial smile, replaced thoroughly by a stern glare. “It is you who is the fool to let such thoughts paralyze you!” She lets her go, wags a finger in her face, “you have fallen out of practice in the art of seeing yourself as what you are. What you are truly capable of.”

“But I am capable of failure!”

“And you are capable of triumph!” Jaheira snaps, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration. “Why are you so determined to fail?”

Pasiphaë blinks. Blinks again. Something hot rolls down her cheeks and she scrubs at them with her hands. They come away wet.

“You said, once, that you are destined for the Wall of the Faithless. This is the truth. In many ways, you are,” Jaheira continues, kneeling on the ground so as to catch her eyes. “But you are not dead yet. Your pups are not dead yet. Pull it together; you must see this—if not for yourself, then for them.”

For them. Yes. For them. Children are only as resilient as their parents, Melisandre used to say. Whisper in her ear, when the worst of the grief had taken over as their baby girl cooled in her arms. Phaedra is gone, but Xenodius and Serafina yet live. For them, Pasiphaë had rallied. Taken up what strength she had left, and trudged forward.

Get up, she thinks Melisandre would say, now. Get up, my love. They are hurt, but they are yet living. Get up.

“I wish I had your wisdom,” Pasiphaë says, finally, after a long moment of silence. It comes out in a croak, barely a whisper, barely even words. Still, she manages a small smile. “True mother’s wisdom.”

Jaheira tsks. But slowly, she too returns a smile. “You have it. As I said: you are just… out of practice. Come, now,” again, she gets up on her creaky knees with an exaggerated groan.

And offers her hand. “Your pups might sleep better, knowing that their mother is nearby.”

This time, Pasiphaë takes it. “Their bitch of a mother?”

Jaheira laughs. Laughs and laughs, even as she pulls Pasiphaë toward the stairs and their camp. It’s loud and bawdy and definitely a great disturbance. But it does sound like music, and Pasiphaë likes hearing it. “Just so!”

--

Pasiphaë Elago is my Tav. She's a moon-elf, and a Paladin of Ilmater/the Triad turned Godless Paladin-- it's a long story. She's named Pasiphaë because her late wife, Melisandre, was a druid whose wild shape was a bull. I think I'm funny. Before the events of BG3, she was an adventurer in her own right, and is technically retired and is literally broaching 500 by the time she's kidnapped by the Ilithids. That being said, because she's so old and had just lost her wife a few years prior, she doesn't romance the BG3 characters but accidentally adopts them all during their whole tadpole ordeal. Oh make no mistake, Astarion, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Lae'zel tried to hit that, but she shut that down so fast-- "Some of you are as old as my eldest grandchild. It's awkward." Team Mom! Total GILF!! And also!! suffering. Help her, she thought she was done having to parent like this after watching 2 of her 3 children (the last died during the Spellplague) grow up, move out, and make families of their own. She's supposed to be RETIRED, damnit. She's trying so hard. She just wants a NAP.

Speaking of Greek Myths, isn't it funny that Astarion shares a name with the Minotaur? I swear, I didn't think of that before naming Pasiphaë. I did, however, think of it when naming Ariadne Ancunin, my other BG3 OC, who happens to also be Astarion's biological sister. The name's important. Ariadne gave Theseus the power to kill her Minotaur brother, after all. But that's for another day entirely.

None of this makes sense to any of you. That's fine. It's for ME.

[shroomonabroom]

accidentally reblogged a repost rather than the original!! a million thanks to the anon who let me know <3

some fantastic art that makes my "gale totally had a storm sorcerer pirate dad" self very very pleased!

Bloodweave Pirate AU 🏴‍☠️

Buy me a Ko-fi ☕💗 | Requests and commission

[redmedic]

My Little Starlight

It is finally done - after 16 hours of work! This was a (fairly old - sorry!) request from one of my Patrons to see more G/T Bloodweave, and I’ve been really deep in my. Feelings with God Gale as a concept, still treasuring his mortal Astarion even after ascension to godhood

You can check out more of my work on Patreon!

Patreon | Instagram | Redbubble

DETAIL CROPS:

[thecrowsinkwell]

Cuddles ⋆˙⟡♡ (wip)

[theoldkyokodied]

If you follow my main you had to know this was coming… anyway. Enjoy these bloodweave doodles :)

[lunarwench]

I COME HERE. TO TELL YOU I ADDED YOUR SCRUMPTIOUS ART TO THE FIC. AND I FIND MORE ART.

Look at them! Oh god, I can't, Gale's smile, he's so, this is so, I'm crying, this is so beautiful and soft and sweet and fluffy and I've seen it in my head but you made it real and I love this SO MUCH. And this scene, oh gosh, I love this scene, it's one of my favorites, you keep plucking all these images out of my head and showing me them and I am SO grateful and in awe and weeping all over the ground.

Slow dance with your wizard.

I’m debating what to do with Gale’s robe I like the idea of his regular purple default robe. It says to me “ready for action” or “I will incinerate anyone who touches my rogue” but something more ornate may be in order considering the context lol

I’m just yappin’

[star-bear-art]

"There’s blood on his blades, sliding down his arms, spilling onto the dirt at his feet. It was abhorrent, the wrongness Gale felt watching what could be Astarion’s meals hitting the ground, one goblin at a time."

I've been catching up on all my favourite bloodweave fics lately, which of course meant rereading Divine Losers, and something about that scene in chapter two when gale helps Astarion drink for the first time??? Yeah. That's all.

Thin lines aren't usually my thing because I always make it so messy but given that this is practically a sketch it was fun!! must experiment more

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Masterlist

Summary: A collection of Astarion x AsexualBard!Tav stories and headcanons based on the initial three parter, I Want It All (Ao3 Link)

Series

I Want It All: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

One-Shots/Drabbles

Scrappy Little Mutt

No Excuses Necessary

cuddle drabble

Your Heart Or Mine

Put Your Lips Together

Better Than a Memory

For All I Care

Small Gifts

Muses and Devotion

I Would Have Killed You

Home is Where the Heart Is

A Little Much

Reaching Out

Headcanons/Notes

Random Ship Question Headcanons

Astarion x Tav Being Silly Together

Companions Music Taste + Ace!Tav

Cuddles Headcanons

How I Visualize Ace!Tav (using picrew because I can’t draw)

Assorted Couples Questions

What Ace!Tav and Astarion do to cause the bed to rhythmically creak / Unintentional Dirty Talk

Reverse AU Rambles

How Ace!Tav Would React to Astarion Dying and Unable to be Revived and Vice Versa

Astarion Being Ace!Tav’s Guard Dog

Astarion and Ace!Tav Keeping Each Other Warm

Ace!Tav's Reaction to Halsin Propositioning Them

Ace!Tav’s Reaction to Realizing Gale is Into Them

Bloodweave x Ace!Tav AU/ Astarion x Evie (Ace!Tav) x Gale Reprise

Ace!Tav Fashion Sense

Ace!Tav Confiding in Shadowheart

Sleeping Headcanons

Dancing Headcanons

Helping Astarion See Himself

Astarion Comforting an Embarrassed Tav

Elvish Terms of Endearment

A Christmas Carol AU

Conversation and Banter

Companion!Evie(Ace!Tav) Rambles/ More Rambles

Ascended Astarion AU

Hadestown AU/ Ascended!Astarion Hadestown AU

Assorted Soft Headcanons

Dancing + Mutual Pining AU

Circus AU + Above the Influence

Bloodweave x Evie (Ace!Tav) Cuddling

Evie (Ace!Tav) Character Bio

Evie (Ace!Tav) Day by Day Playthrough

5 Sentence Fics

“Darling, look around at the bizarre company we keep; anything you’ve got to say to me can’t possibly be that much of an outlier.”

"Oh, that's a nice tavern… Where the fuck am I?!"

“Help me with the laundry?”

“Everything ok? You’ve been very quiet all day."

"And here I thought you didn’t speak Elvish."

"Would you put money on that?"

“I came for you.”

“Goodbye, Love.”

"I'll wait for you."

“Sorry I’m late.”

Spotify Playlist

[lixlikes]

You will know no greater peace | Astarion/Tav(Reader) | Angst/Comfort

Info: Comforting Astarion when he begins to disassociate during sex, based on that one cutscene with him and Halsin with the drow twins, Gender neutral Tav as always :) TW: SA mention, trauma, comfort, descriptions of trauma/SA Based on a Bloodweave comic by @/sunflowerdales on Twitter/X!

Your hands are warm against his cold skin as he pumps inside of you at a slow, yet unsteady pace. As your eyes creep open you meet his gaze, his eyes glazed over as he stares blankly into space, lost in thought. You drop one hand to stop his hips, the other still planted gently on his cheek.

"Astarion, my love" You call softly, as not to startle him "Are you alright?"

He jumps slightly, frantically painting his face with a smile full of fake warmth "Yes my darling?" He responds in his usual seductive tone.

"We can stop for now if you'd like." You smile, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. He gasps slightly at the touch, leaning into it with a sigh.

"I'm sorry my dear" He seems to almost break, his eyes closing as his body begins to loosen.

"Don't apologize my love" You rub his back as you softly coax his head against your chest as he reluctantly pulls out of you. His hair has a small knot in the back where your fingers would thread themselves through for support, using gentle fingers you brush it out.

His breath slows as you feel his ear press against your chest, his hands on your sides with a small grip, almost as if he's afraid you'll slip away. You tuck a loose lock of silver hair behind his pointy ear and hum softly, a song you commonly hear him humming to himself in moments of stress or discomfort.

It's almost magical, how his body fits perfectly against yours, how all his muscles relax at your touch.

"Do you mind me asking what's the matter?" You continue to lavish his head with soft rubs and massages.

He groans softly "I guess I.." He sighs "Thought that since, I was the one who had the idea to do this" He frowns "I had no right to ruin the moment and stop halfway, I've gotten so used to just forcing myself through it.."

You nod, kissing his head tenderly "Even if you ask for it, hell beg even, but suddenly want to stop, you have every right to" You reassure him "I could never be mad at you for voicing your discomfort."

He mumbles in appreciation, unsure of how to respond.

"Besides, there's otherways we can be intimate!" You motion to his body pressed against your own "This for example" You chuckle lightly.

He looks up at you cautiously, tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, threatening to roll down his face.

You kiss his eyelids softly, brushing nonsense shapes into his back with a soft pressure.

"You're here with me ok?" You whisper "You're safe" you emphasize as his chest inflates and collapses against you with soft cries.

"I love you, even in a world where we could never have sex, I would be the happiest person on this planet" You chuckle "Hells every planet for that matter."

He laughs softly along with you, a loving smile spreading across his face "You are the best thing to ever happen to me, not even being able to relish in the sunlight could compare to how I feel being with you."

You dramatically gasp "Why I compare to the sun?" Your eyes widen jokingly.

He kisses you softly to shut you up.

As the kiss breaks you both stare into each others eyes, mapping every crease, crack, wrinkle, and shimmer.

"Perhaps we can go to that hot spring we found not too long ago and have a bath?" He nearly whispers as he runs a hand through your rats nest hair.

"I'd love nothing more."

Even if one is to say yes at the start, they have all the right to change their mind.

[pixel7777]

Threefold Returns - Ch. 1/16

The naughty version of the beautiful artwork commissioned from the incredible misfitlunatic (https://x.com/misfit_lunatik or https://bsky.app/profile/misfitlunatik.bsky.social) can be seen in all its glory here.

Work Summary: Magic has rules. Magic has a mistress. And Gale Dekarios knows something he was never meant to remember.

A year ago Gale made Zelara choose between himself and Astarion; she chose Astarion. A few weeks ago, Gale stopped answering their messages. Zel and Astarion show up in Waterdeep and find Gale being mind-fucked by his former goddess.

What begins as an attempt to untangle the lingering threads of Mystra’s influence over Gale turns into something much bigger—and far more dangerous. The truth lurking beneath the Weave is a secret worth killing for, and Mystra will stop at nothing to keep it buried. But Gale, Astarion, and Zelara have never been good at playing by the rules.

And Astarion and Zelara have never stopped loving Gale.

Canon compliance: I'm playing fast and loose with Mystra and Weave lore here, outright changing it for a main plot point, and I'm not sorry about it. My lore is that Mystra is a horrible person in BG3, and I want her punished. Uh, and some magic stuff definitely goes beyond 5e rules and drifts adjacent to some magical realism. If you're here for some feels and smut and seeing Mystra get destroyed, you're in the right place. If you're here for lore, you're probably not lol.

Work Content Tags: Post-Canon, Polyamory, Explicit Sexual Content, Explicit Language, POV Multiple, Threesome - F/M/M, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Humor, Karma Comes for Mystra, Fuck Mystra, Bloodweave+Tav, PIV sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex ~64K words.

Work is complete on AO3! Chapters will be posted daily on Tumblr until it's all here too.

Astarion

Moonlight-colored fungi cast a soft glow across Zel's lavender skin as she sprawled beside Astarion, her silver hair spilling across the pillow like liquid metal. He traced idle patterns on her bare shoulder, savoring the warmth of her body against his cool flesh. The lingering pleasure of their coupling hummed through his nerves, making everything feel soft and hazy.

"What if something's happened to him?" Zel's voice broke the comfortable silence. "It's not like Gale to ignore messages for this long."

Astarion pressed a kiss to her temple. "Or perhaps he's simply caught up in some fascinating magical theory and lost track of time. You know how he gets."

"But three weeks?" She shifted to face him, her luminous eyes catching the ethereal light. "That's a long time, even for Gale."

He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, noting the tension in her jaw. Always trying to fix things, his Zel. Even when there might be nothing to fix.

"Darling, he's not exactly helpless. He did manage to get rid of that pesky orb without blowing himself up." Astarion kept his tone light, though worry gnawed at the edges of his thoughts. "And last we heard, he was settling back into his tower, probably boring everyone in Waterdeep with lectures about magical theory."

"I suppose." Zel nestled closer, pressing her face against his neck. Her breath tickled his skin. "But what if—"

"Tell me three times you are sure there's actually something wrong." He caught her chin, tilting her face up to his. "Not just your brilliant mind spinning hypotheticals."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. "I hate when you use our thing against me."

"I know." He smirked, drinking in the sight of her—flushed skin, kiss-bruised lips, the mark of his fangs still visible on her throat. Even worried, she was breathtaking. "That's why I do it."

Astarion watched the familiar glint of mischief spark in Zel's eyes. That look always meant trouble.

"We could go check on him," she said, trailing her fingers down his chest. "I've been working on that sunlight resistance potion. The latest batch shows real promise."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Astarion studied Zel's expression, recognizing the determined set of her jaw. Usually, he redirected her experimental urges toward more expendable test subjects. Her genius was undeniable, but her methods tended toward the explosive. He had watched her blow up her laboratory three times in the past month alone.

But this was different. The sunlight resistance potion was personal—something she had been working on just for him. He refused to let her test it on the freed spawn. Those poor bastards had suffered enough, and he wouldn't add to their torment just to spare himself discomfort.

"How promising?" He kept his tone casual, though his pulse would have quickened if he still had one. "The last batch only gave me a rather spectacular rash."

"I adjusted the ratio of my dhampir blood to moonflower essence." Zel's eyes lit up with that dangerous sparkle that meant she was about to launch into technical details. "And the crystallization process—"

He pressed a finger to her lips. "Darling, I love you, but spare me the particulars. Just tell me if you think it might actually work this time."

She nipped his finger. "It might. And Gale could help refine it further. He always had good insights about the magical theory behind the transformative properties."

That was true. Gale and Zel had worked well together in the past, their different approaches to magic complementing each other. The wizard's theoretical knowledge combined with Zel's practical experimentation had produced remarkable results.

Astarion sighed, already knowing he would give in.

"Just think—you could lay in the sun while I scratch your tummy." Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "And Gale always has the best wine."

"I do not need my tummy scratched." He pulled back, affronted. "I'm not some common housecat."

"No?" She propped herself up on an elbow. "You're constantly preening your hair."

"It's called grooming, darling. Some of us care about our appearance."

"And you get unreasonably excited about sunbathing."

"Two centuries without sun will do that to anyone."

"You mark your territory." Zel gestured to the pattern of bite marks she'd let scar rather than heal magically to humor his odd impulses. So her point was valid. But he did not want Zel to get the idea that he approved of her calling him a cat.

"I do not—"

"You literally hissed at that merchant who touched your favorite coat."

"He was being presumptuous."

"You creep around in shadows and pounce on things."

"That's called being a rogue."

"You get bitey when your dignity is offended."

"I most certainly do not—"

"And you really like having your butthole licked."

He snapped his mouth shut, fangs clicking together. The worst part was she wasn't entirely wrong, but he'd be damned if he'd admit it. Especially about that last bit.

"I am feeling rather bitey at the moment," he growled, nipping at her shoulder.

Her delighted laugh echoed through their chamber. "See? Proving my point."

Astarion's smile faded as he watched Zel's eyes drift toward their window. She always got that distant look when thinking about Gale. His chest tightened with an emotion he refused to name.

"Perhaps..." The words caught in his throat. "Perhaps he simply doesn't wish to be found."

Zel's attention snapped back to him. "What do you mean?"

"Moving on. Living his life." Astarion traced the curve of her hip, keeping his touch light. "We can't expect him to orbit around us forever, darling. Even if you—" He paused, forcing the words past centuries of practiced deflection. "Even if you still care for him."

Astarion watched the shadow pass across Zel's face. He knew that look—had seen it countless times when Gale's name came up. The wizard's absence had left a void in her that even Astarion's love couldn't quite fill. Not that she ever complained or showed regret for choosing him. But he noticed. Of course he noticed.

He remembered how it had been, in those early days after the break. Gale, ever the gentleman, had stepped aside gracefully when Zel refused to give up her relationship with Astarion. The wizard had wanted exclusivity—a traditional romance. But Zel loved differently, loved wholly, and wouldn't compromise one heart to please another.

Their parting had been gentle. No harsh words, no bitter accusations. Just quiet acceptance that their paths diverged. Gale had remained their friend, sharing meals and adventures, offering his wisdom and wit. But something had shifted, become careful and awkwardly contained, like a book whose pages could no longer lie flat.

Astarion had watched it all, uncertain how to navigate this peculiar dance. He understood possession, understood jealousy—but Zel treated love like an endless well, drawing deep without depleting. Her heart expanded to hold them both, even if Gale couldn't accept the arrangement she offered.

Now, seeing that familiar shadow in her eyes, Astarion felt the old uncertainty stir. He never questioned Zel's love for him—she proved it daily in a thousand small ways. But he wondered, sometimes, if she would have chosen differently if he had been the one to demand she choose.

"I didn't mean to suggest we abandon him," Astarion added softly, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "Only that we should be prepared if he's chosen to move forward without us."

"I want to go see him." Zel caught his hand, pressing it flat against her skin.

"Zel—"

"I want to go see him." Her voice grew firmer.

"And if he turns us away?"

"I want to go see him." The third time held the weight of certainty.

Astarion closed his eyes, fighting twin impulses—to protect her from potential rejection, and to shield himself from facing desires he had buried since their earliest days together. The thought of seeing Gale again stirred something dangerous in his chest. Something that whispered of missed chances and lingering looks.

But more than that, Gale's silence felt wrong. The wizard had never been one to simply vanish, even after their paths diverged. And if something was truly amiss...

"Fine." He opened his eyes, meeting her determined gaze. "But only because you promised belly scratches in the sun. And because..." He hesitated, then admitted, "Because I don't actually believe he's just busy with research."

"You're worried about him too."

It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway. "Perhaps a bit. Don't let it go to your head."

Astarion rolled Zel onto her back, straddling her hips. "If you're going to insist on comparing me to a feline, darling, then I insist on being treated like one." His eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and a desire to lighten the moment for Zel's sake.

Zel's laughter was low and throaty. "Is that so?" Her hands slid up his thighs.

"Mmm." He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. "And I expect you to be thorough."

"Wouldn't dream of doing it any other way." She nipped at his lower lip before pushing him gently onto his back. Astarion went willingly.

Zel moved down his body, her breath hot against his cool flesh. "So, my little kitty," she murmured, her voice laced with teasing affection, "where do you want me to start?"

Astarion stretched languidly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, if you're going to groom me properly..." He shifted, spreading his knees and angling his hips before meeting her appreciative gaze with a raised eyebrow.

"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" She laughed softly, her hands spreading him open. Her fingers caressed him in a way that was both gentle and possessive.

Astarion let out a soft moan as her head dipped down and her tongue found its mark. The warmth and wetness sent shivers down his spine. "Gods, Zel..."

"Mmm?" She hummed against him, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through his body.

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed as Zel's tongue traced delicate circles around his rim. Every nerve ending sparked with pleasure, his body relaxing into the sensation. She took her time, exploring every inch of him with a thoroughness that left him breathing deeply through the pleasure.

His breath hitched when she finally pressed her tongue inside him, the invasion slow and deliberate. His body responded immediately, the muscles clenching around her, drawing her deeper. She hummed in appreciation, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through him.

"You know," she murmured, pulling back, "I love how your body just sucks me in. It's like you're trying to devour me."

Astarion laughed, the sound a mix of amusement and frustration. "Zel, darling, I do believe that's the point." He shifted, trying to chase the sensation she'd withdrawn. "And I must object to you stopping."

She grinned, sitting back on her heels. "Patience, kitty. I'm just getting started."

He watched as she turned to her nearby rack filled with small bottles and vials. Each one was labeled neatly in her precise handwriting—a collection of oils and ointments she'd concocted specifically for their use. He'd been adamant about not letting her test her more experimental creations on him in bed, but her lubricants were exquisite.

Astarion propped himself up on his elbows, watching as she selected a bottle. "The lavender one," he suggested, knowing it was his favorite. The scent was subtle, the texture smooth and long-lasting.

Zel glanced at him, a smirk playing on her lips. "Demanding and specific. Someone's eager."

"Always, when it comes to you." He let his gaze roam over her body, appreciating the curves and lines he knew so well. The sight of her, the anticipation of what was to come, sent a thrill through him.  He watched her move with that familiar grace, his chest tight with affection. Everything about her touch was generous and gentle, from the way her fingers skimmed his skin to how she anticipated his desires before he voiced them.

What made it precious - what made him absolutely melt for her - was knowing there wasn't a trace of pity in her tenderness. She didn't tiptoe around his past trauma or treat him like some fragile, broken thing that needed coddling. No, her gentleness came purely from learning what brought him pleasure and delighting in providing it. She touched him softly because she knew he loved it, because it made him shiver and sigh, and because his enjoyment was reward enough for her. That understanding, that pure acceptance of who and what he was, made him adore her all the more.

She uncapped the bottle, pouring a generous amount onto her fingers. The scent of lavender filled the air, soothing and arousing at the same time. He hummed in approval, spreading his legs wider in invitation.

"Now," he murmured, his voice low and steady, "where were we?"

She coated her fingers carefully and then they took the place of her mouth, circling, teasing, knowing exactly what he liked.

Zel indulged her own impulses, her teeth grazing his inner thigh. The slight sting made him hiss, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he watched, entranced, as she lapped at the small wound, her tongue collecting the beads of blood. The sight sent a shiver down his spine—a mix of arousal and something deeper, something uniquely theirs.

Their natures, dhampir and vampire, were an odd fit. Her body warm and alive, his cool and eternally still. Somehow, they complemented each other perfectly. Her blood was his sustenance in a way his ichor could never be for her, but they had been pleased to find that small amounts had interesting effects beyond feeding her bitey blood kink.

Zel pulled back slightly, her breath hot against his sensitive flesh. "You taste incredible," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Like cool night air and something uniquely you."

Astarion chuckled, the sound breathless. "I do believe that's the oddest compliment I've ever received."

She grinned, her teeth flashing in the dim light. "Well, you are rather odd." She slipped the first finger inside, making him shiver. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

He laughed, the sound turning into a moan as she slowly worked deeper inside him. His body opened for her easily, the warm slickness of the oil she'd used earlier easing her way. She took her time, her finger moving in slow, deliberate strokes, her tongue mirroring the motion against his thigh and sometimes teasingly back at his rim.

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed, his body melting into the sensation. The warmth of her touch, the slick heat of her mouth, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—it was all so overwhelmingly perfect. He felt cherished, adored. And in that moment, he knew he was home. Not a place, but a feeling. A sense of belonging that transcended their peculiar natures and bound them together.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in her hair, gently guiding her mouth to where he needed her most.

Zel chuckled, the sound vibrating against his sensitive flesh. She added a finger and picked up the pace inside of him while she took the head of his cock into her mouth. She knew every spot, every trick to make him come undone.

Astarion's breath hitched as she hit just the right angle, her fingers curling inside him. "Zel... gods, yes..."

"Like that, do you?" Her voice was a purr, low and satisfied, as she kissed up and down his shaft.

"You know I do." He arched his back, pressing against her, chasing the sensation. His cock was hard again, dripping, desperate for more.

Zel's free hand wrapped around him, her grip firm and sure. She stroked him in time with her mouth and fingers, leaving him gasping for air he didn't need but somehow felt desperate for.

"You're... ah... you're enjoying this..." He panted, his body tensing.

"Mmm-hmm." She hummed again, the sound sending another wave of pleasure crashing through him. "I love making you happy, Astarion. And I love getting my way."

He laughed, the sound breathless and broken. "You always get your way, darling."

"Damn right I do." She pulled back, her eyes shining with mischief and love. Her fingers never stopped moving, beckoning him slowly and surely toward his edge.

Astarion reached down, pulling her up to kiss her deeply. He could taste himself on her lips, a mix of sweet and salty that was uniquely them and a hint of the lavender oil at the corners of her mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too, Astarion." She smiled against his mouth, one hand still wrapped around him, her fingers still moving inside him. "And soon, we'll go see our friend. But for now..." She kissed him again, gentle and loving.

Astarion's breath hitched as Zel's gentle touch unraveled him. It was her tenderness that undid him as much as her skill. His body tensed, balls drawing up tight, and she pressed harder against that spot inside him, her mouth pulling away from his just in time to indulge this other kink of his. He came undone, his vision whiting out with pleasure as he painted her breasts with his release.

Zel's soft hum of appreciation brought him back to himself, his eyes fluttering open to see her admiring the mess he'd made as she eased her fingers out of his hole. She leaned down, her tongue tracing circles around his nipples, sending little jolts of pleasure through him. His body shivered, oversensitive and spent, but her touch was gentle, coaxing aftershocks from his nerves.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice warm with affection. "So beautiful." Her fingers traced the edge of his hole, slick with oil. She didn't clean him with magic, instead choosing to lap at his skin, her tongue darting out and dipping in, her own unique take on aftercare.

Astarion's cheeks flushed, a mix of strange possession and arousal heating his cool skin. He loved this—the way she praised him, the way she took her time to clean him intimately. Her tongue licked deeper inside him, cleaning away the remnants of oil, sending the last few ripples of pleasure through his oversensitive flesh.

Zel pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. "You taste so good, Astarion. I could do this all day." Her voice was a low purr, vibrating against his skin.

Astarion's lips curved into a soft smile, his body relaxing under her touch. "You're insatiable, darling."

"Only for you." She pressed a gentle kiss to his inner thigh, her fingers still tracing delicate patterns on his skin where her nips had already healed. "And I think you like it."

"Mmm." He stretched languidly, his body humming with contentment. "I think you've made your point."

Astarion's eyes fluttered closed, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He let himself sink into the sensation, into the warmth of her touch and the gentleness of her care. This was what he loved—the way she made him feel cherished, the way she took her time to draw out every last bit of pleasure.

"Zel..." Her name was a soft whisper on his lips, a plea and a praise all rolled into one.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. "Yes, Astarion?"

"I... Just..." He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. "Thank you."

Her smile softened, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek. "You're welcome, my love. Always."

[kimothepossom]

Sorry guys, Bloodweave is no more

Boys are fighting

[nivasichakano]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @patheticfangirl! Procrastination on a Monday? Don't mind if I do. 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 18 — 16 for BG3 and 2 for Arcane (sorry Jayvik one day I'll come back to you 😭) 2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

433,097 (never finished writing a thing in my life before I discovered Astarion, thanks darling).

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hustle - What I want to write: angsty romantasy. What I actually write: Bloodweave YouTubers. I love these boys. WeaveStitch 4eva <3

Hiraeth - My First Fanfiction, an isekai about a BG3 gamer who finds herself dragged into Faerun. I didn't know how to use AO3 then, I tagged my OC, Astarion, and Gale in a threesome by accident, and Gale and Astarion are super horny for each other throughout because I didn't yet know it was my life's calling to write Bloodweave. But I'm proud of the ending and people still seem to like it.

What Friends Are For - Also known as, Nivasi discovers Bloodweave. This fic has my favorite chapters of anything I've written ever (chapters 11-13).

Driven - Meepbois 😭 I miss them so they're getting a one-year anniversary epilogue this year.

Snakes & Ladders - A silly one-shot enabled by the Bloodweave Brainrot Discord. No tadpole AU in which Astarion is sent by Cazador to steal from Gale.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

BG3 and Arcane. On a knife's edge about Invisible Boys and IWTV.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I'd like to pretend that I 'write for myself' but you know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you(r comments).

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Familiar is probably the angstiest thing I've written ('What if Gale's dad was one of Astarion's victims?'). Otherwise, Hiraeth has a very bittersweet ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Literally everything else.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Someone once compared Hiraeth to Twilight, which I consider to be hateful.

9. Do you write smut?

I mean... I try 😅 Not well?

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't, but I'm open to it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I think it'd be fun. HMU.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Bloodweave. I can't believe I'm still here over a year later. Just love 'em.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

*cries in Eurovision fic shame* I do actually really want to finish After the End, my Jayvik longfic too, since it's all plotted out. But I realised I can't work on more than one thing at once and Hellfire Club Bloodweave AU is dragging me into the hells at the moment.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I genuinely don't know how to answer this. Uhh, the ability to make absolutely everything a romcom?

Actually, I just came back to this one because I remembered that I can write the shit out of a first chapter. Give me any prompt and that first chapter will be with you in under an hour.

It's just finishing them that's the problem.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Making everything a romcom, if you hate romcoms, I guess. Other than that, oh, so many things: procrastination, repetition, cliches, getting distracted by shiny new ideas, autistic Gale + bbgirl Astarion

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I did it in Driven, because Astarion speaks French, and it taught me how not good Google Translate is. I ended up getting help from the lovely French Quarter of BWBR in the end, and would always go straight to this option in the future.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BG3! This has been my first experience of fandom and my first time writing fics. I like it. You're all onto something here.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I think it's got to be Driven. It's not as popular as Hustle, but I received the most surprising amount of love for this story. To the extent that it was actually emotional when it came to an end? Which I really wasn't expecting when I plonked a wizard and a vampire into F1 cars. Thanks meeple <3

* Riddle me this @badmarilynart @hylianworrier