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parvulous-writings · 5 days

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It may come to absolutely no surprise to you but.......I have a preference to Halsin in BG3.

If you have any desire to write some fluff......If I could gift this man some honey comb in a jar with a handkerchief wrapped around the top, and there is a duck stitched on the corner of the cloth. I would. Cuz I really wanna. 💕

Words: 2.06K

Notes: Honestly, I do not blame you! Who couldn't love this big bear of a man? He's amazing! Takes place after the main game plot <3 My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Halsin Silverbough - Archdruid and friend to many - was an absolute sweetheart, through and through. It was no secret that this strong hulk of a man was not only reasonable when it came to conflict, but actively sought the betterment of those around him. He sought it so actively, in fact, that he rarely ever left time for himself. He was always so ingrained or focused on what he thought needed to be done to right what wrong he could, that he gave little thought to when he may need to just take a step back, and relax. So, you took it upon yourself to give him the opportunity to.

Of course, being the lover of the Archdruid comes with some perks; one of those being that you knew everyone within the Grove. One of the younger druids, a young halfling named Barnan, had taken up beekeeping once the druids had re-settled, and that gave you the perfect idea for Halsin's little treat. "Good morning, Barnan!" You greet the shorter figure as you approach, glass jar in hand. Barnan jumps, startled by your somewhat sudden appearance. "I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.." You chuckle lightly, as Barnan recovers. "Oh, but of course-" He says quickly, patting down the apron that he so often wore over his normal plain clothes. "What is it that you need?" He asks you, a smile starting to spread over his face.

"I was hoping to get Halsin a little something... He's been practically run off of his feet again recently, and I think he deserves a treat..." You explain, not getting too into all the details, but giving the Halfling enough to know that it was important to you. He nods enthusiastically, turning to the shelves he had pitched up outside his little shack; "Let me see if I have anything that might take his fancy..." He muses, tapping gently at his chin. "Actually, I had something in mind already..." You gently tell him, and as he turns, you hold up the glass jar you had brought with you. "Halsin likes honey - I was wondering if one of your hives could spare some honeycomb for him?" Barnan blinks, then begins to nod, reaching for the jar. "Oh, but of course, of course! Let me take that for you..." He then pauses, looking at the jar for a moment, almost... Concerned. "Are you quite sure this will be enough..?" He turns his gaze back to you for a moment. You seem almost shocked - that was one of the larger jars you had found. Though, looking at it now... You supposed Barnan had a point - Halsin naturally had a large appetite. "Do you have a larger jar?" You ask after a moment's pause, and Barnan grins. "I wouldn't be a very good beekeeper if I didn't, now, would I?" He replied, making you laugh. "I'll grab one for you," He tells you as he hands you your jar back. "Wait here, I shan't be long.." You nod and move to take a seat on a stool Barnan often sits on in the morning - he loves his spot here, with a perfect view of the morning sun.

The breeze is lovely; warm and inviting, and carrying the many scents of the various wildflowers that are nearby, that grow all over the grove in fact. Branan really knew how to pick a good spot for himself to stay - and an even better for his beehives. There wasn't much that you considered 'perfect', but this place? A place so gorgeous, and the home of those you held so dear? This was perfect, without a doubt. Lost in your thoughts, you're unsure of how much time actually passes whilst Barnan retrieves some honeycomb for you. When he returns, he's carrying in incredibly large jar in his arms. "You're in luck," He pants to you, as he places the filled jar on the grass by your legs, "There was a fair deal of surplus comb in all the hives - I really should be keeping on top of them more, this far into summer... Ah well, I just suppose the days have been getting away from me!" He laughs. You chuckle along with him. "Thank you, Barnan... I really appreciate this..." You get to your feet, leaning down to pick up the jar with both hands. "Oh it's no trouble, no trouble at all... Give Master Halsin my regards!" "Of course - I wouldn't dream of neglecting to mention your help," You muse. "Have a good day, friend." You smile at him, and Barnan gives a nod, still smiling warmly. "And to you, my friend."

And with that, you start the short walk back to yours and Halsin's shared quarters, deeper in the Grove. It's always a pleasant walk - whether it's in the middle of the day, or the dead of night. During the day, you're greeted with polite 'hellos' and 'how are you's', and at night, you get to bask in the blissful sounds of nature as the world sleeps. By the time you manage to get back to your shared space, Halsin is already awake, half dressed, and lumbering out into the near midday sun. He stretches, basking in the warmth the light blesses him with, as you quickly try to hide the jar behind your back, not quite ready to give him the gift. "Good morning, my heart.." He greets you, smiling lovingly down at you. "I see you did not wake me..." He muses as he moves a bit closer. "May I ask why?" "I just thought that you deserved a bit of a rest... You haven't given much time for yourself recently, and I think you should." You reply, nodding as you spoke. Halsin starts to nod with you, humming quietly in agreement. He could find no fault in your answer. He starts to chuckle lightly; "Sometimes I feel like you know me better than even I know myself," He tells you, opening his arms and stepping forward for a hug. You quickly duck under his arm, spinning round before he can see the honey pot you're concealing with your torso. Halsin's head turns, trying to catch up with where you've flitted to, his expression portraying his almost comical bafflement. "My love..?" He starts, trailing off mid-sentence. "No you haven't done anything." You quickly clear up for him, giving him a smile of reassurance. "Then why do you dodge my embrace, hm?" "I have a surprise for you," You divulge, your tone almost cheeky. "And it'd be an awful shame to ruin it." Halsin can't help but laugh a little bit at this - he thinks himself almost foolish for so quickly jumping to the idea that you would recoil from his embrace, and your audacious tone did also amuse him so. "Alright, I shall... Let it go, this time." He teases. "I hope that the surprise will be ready before this evening, so I may embrace you at least once today..." "It will, it will... So long as you actually let me go continue preparing it.." You tease, and Halsin bows his head a bit in laughter. "As you wish, my love..." He murmurs. "I shall leave you to whatever antics you've managed to entrench yourself in today... Just don't get into trouble." He warns, only half joking. You roll your eyes playfully at him, before ducking inside, and out of his sight.

You're quick to rummage through what belongings you have to find the sewing kit you keep, mainly for clothing repairs, picking out a larger needle than normal, alongside some yellow thread. You set to work carefully, threading the needle carefully through the corner of the cloth that covers the honey jar, keeping it safe from bugs and other wandering hands. The little image comes together rather quickly and with a splash of other colours - a dash of black, and orange - you've finished your little project, and before you sits a embroidered duck chick. You admire it for a moment, proud of it. You know for a fact, that Halsin will love this - even if you weren't as proud of it as you were now, he'd still love it. You push yourself to your feet after a moment or so of making sure that you're satisfied, making your way out into the sun again. You shield your eyes with one hand, cradling the jar in your arm much like a baby. It doesn't take you long to find Halsin, knife and woodblock in hand, carefully chipping away at the carving he's started. You stroll towards him, smile growing on your face as you wait for him to notice you. "Ah, my heart..." Halsin starts, his gaze still focused on the block of wood as he carves. "I thought today may be a good opportunity to finally set about making us some new utensils.." He tells you, before finally glancing up. His jaw goes a bit slack, before he starts to laugh. "This was your surprise?" He asks you, as you present the honeycomb to him. "It is indeed... Do you like it?" "Like it? My love, I'm not quite sure how to express my thanks... You really did mean it when you thought I deserved time for myself, hm?" "Oh, I wouldn't say something I don't mean... I know better than that.." You muse quietly. "Barnan also sends his regards..." You grunt softly as you move to sit beside him. He leans over to you and presses a kiss to your cheek, and you can feel the smile still on his lips. "I shall thank him when I see him next..." He tells you as he moves to take the cloth-lid off of the jar, pausing to chuckle at the embroidered duck. "And I presume this is your handiwork?" He asks you, turning the corner of the cloth slightly towards you to show you. You nod at him. "Such a small detail..." The elf muses, smiling as he ran his thumb over the stitches. "Thank you, my love. Truly." He takes off the cloth, placing it on his lap for later, and before you can say anything else to him, his hand is in the jar, grasping for some of the sweet comb inside. You can't help but laugh at the sight - but you knew there was nothing you'd be able to do to stop him. He ignores you, choosing to focus instead on crunching down on the sweet treat you'd procured for him. He practically groans as the taste hits his tongue, and your grin stretches ever wider. "Enjoying yourself, my love?" You ask him, and he nods hurriedly as he takes another mouthful of honeycomb; you start to wonder if it's even touching the sides at this point. "Slow down, you don't want to eat it all in one sitting, do you?" You tease, and at this, he does slow down a little bit. He pauses for a moment, honey dripping off of his hand and into the jar as he finishes his mouthful. He then brings his hand towards your mouth. "Open," He prompts gently, and you comply, soon tasting the same sweet honey you had gifted to your partner.

As he pulls his hand away to eat the rest of the honey stuck to it himself, you give another quiet chuckle. "I didn't think you'd want to share this treat - I wasn't expecting you to." You tell him, and he picks up another chunk of comb, handing it to you. "I know you didn't expect me to. But with you, my love, I would share all of nature's bounty... It is not for one person to hoard it to themselves, it is to be shared and revelled in.." He says, rather sagely, as you bite into the crunchy snack he had bestowed upon you. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about honeycomb." You teased him, smirking as you did. "Of course I do. And don't talk with your mouth full." He playfully chides, gently bumping his shoulder into yours. You both lapse into a comfortable silence after that, sharing the honey and gazing out on the landscape that you call home. It's a peaceful moment, and one that both you and Halsin will certainly treasure for a very, very long time.

#requests open #x reader requests #baldurs gate 3 #x reader oneshot #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #fluff #baldurs gate x reader #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin baldur's gate 3 #halsin bg3 #halsin fuff

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parvulous-writings · 10 days

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Your answers about your BG3 ocs again is so good! Can I request your ocs now even though I already sent in a request before? Please tell me if I need to wait until my request is done before sending it my request for your ocs. I don't want to be rude or demanding, no matter how much I want to request! I love it especially Renton thought he was straight but he found it he was bisexual thanks to Gale 🤭, how close he is with his dad ☺️, Acton is the one who encouraged him to seek adventure in the world 🌍, he's in a relationship with Gale 👍, he's scared of monsters... including Beholders & Astarion 😨, he's also scared of balloons 😨, his best trait is his optimism no matter how bleak the situation is 👍, his worst trait is how stubborn he can be 😅, he would sing to himself when he's feeling/looking good sometimes 🤭, he would put on mini concerts for themselves 👍, he would sing a great rendition of Song of Balduran 😍, Michael is more concerned about being connected with the person & is quite comfortable with himself 👍, he has a huge family O_O, he's in relationship with Shadowheart although he has dated all kinds of people, his worst fears are being forgotten by his family & becoming like those he sworn to take down, his best trait is he's loyal unless he has a reason has not to ☺️, his worst trait is how far he pushes himself for others & his temper when he's actually angry 😢, his biggest fear is that his family was slaves before excluding him, he keeps it a secret because his father believes in being a free man but he would tell if he really trusts someone 🥹, Markus likes men a bit more but he follows what his heart wants 👍, he refused to speak about his family as they're dead 😞, IIvon is like a brother to him 😊, he isn't in a relationship but he will probably look for one after the shadow curse is lifted, his greatest fear is to never see his home back to its former glory 😭, his best trait is his ability to lead 👍, his worst trait is his temper 😅, he keeps Laenna's shadow-vestige in a small, protective case if the shadow curse is lifted 🥹, IIvon is free when it comes to love & relationships 👍, he left his family to pursue the life of a druid, and hasn't had much contact with them since but he still sends letters to his family, but doesn't receive any replies 😢, he's not in a relationship but he had a few flings in the past, he's usually more attracted to those who are open minded 👍, he has a fear of dark but he can manage if it's a bit bright 👍, his best trait is his patience 😊, his worst trait is not being able to assert himself at times 😅, he secretly draws but would deny because he's self-conscious of his art 🤭 Thank you so much for answering my questions because I love it so much :) - Fluff anon

You send in as many requests as you want, fluff anon! I can't promise they'll be done in order (I go where the muse takes me!), but they will be done!! And I'm so so glad that you're enjoying these so much!! It's a wonderful feeling, to see my characters so appreciated! <3

#requests open #x reader requests #pavy talks

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parvulous-writings · 11 days

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I have several questions about your BG3 ocs again! I'm still curious!

What are Renton Hillmane, Thornbrooke, Markus Bluebrook, and Ilvon Leafgrace's sexualities/sexual presences?

How are their families & friends like?

Romantic partners if they had any or are any of them dating anyone?

Fears/Phobias?

Best traits?

Worst traits?

Secrets whether it's something they would never admit or only if they truly trust someone enough to tell?

Would you accept x gn reader requests for your ocs that I asked about? Only if you don't mind of course! Thanks! - Fluff anon

Notes: Anon.. I would Love to write requests for these characters! I've always wanted to write for my ocs, but I'm often nervous to - the only person I know (besides now yourself) who enjoys these is my best friend!! So I only have limited pictures of these characters, so I'll save them for if/when there are full oneshots! Thank you to @rey-is-not-a-skywalker for some help with some parts (both whilst writing this, and in the past!) My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too!

Renton

Renton is bisexual - when he left the family farm at the start of his adventure he identified as straight, but after travelling with the companions after the Nautiloid, he discovers that he is in fact bisexual.

He comes from a family of two; himself, and his father - if you don't count the abundance of animals on the farm. His mother died when he was very, very young. Renton and his father are very close, and his father (Acton) is the one who encouraged Renton to seek out adventure in the wider world, so that he could be sure in the decision to stay on the Hillmane farm.

Canonically, Renton is in a relationship with Gale, and this is his first relationship (and also his queer awakening).

Renton is scared of most monsters; so the beginning of the adventure is quite difficult for him, as he often gets frozen in fear. This also, unfortunately, extends to Astarion. This poor man is absolutely terrified of Astarion when he finds out he's a vampire. The first time he sees a Beholder he is screeching like nothing on earth. He also doesn't like balloons (including hot air balloons.)

His best trait, without a doubt, is his optimism - one of the few ways that his naivety serves him well. No matter what he's faced with, he always manages to find a way to think on the bright side, no matter how bleak the situation is. His worst trait is probably his stubbornness; back home, there was no problem that couldn't be solved with a bit of elbow grease, and it takes a long time to try and get over that idea when he's travelling.

He sometimes serenades himself in the mirror when he's feeling or looking good. They also will put on mini shows for themselves as if they're at a concert - he does an amazing rendition of Song of Balduran when he learns it.

Micheal

Micheal is pansexual; the gender of his partner is of little relevance to him, what matters more is the connection he has with them. He's had quite a few flings in the past whilst on the road, but he feels little shame about it, he's very comfortable in himself.

Micheal comes from a large immediate family - and also views a lot of his close neighbours as family too! He has his mother and father, and his three younger brothers, all of whom he loved very much (despite the youngest of those three brothers being only a baby when he left.) His mother and father are both half-elves, so he and his brothers are as well.

Canonically, Micheal courts Shadowheart, finding himself most drawn to her out of all the companions he travels with; this being said, however, his partners have been of all classes, creeds and races, there's not really any pattern - he just wants someone he can bond with and feel close to.

Micheal's biggest fears are being forgotten by his family, and becoming like those he has sworn to take down - the men who take things too far, kill too often. He's often grappling with the line between man, and monster - and whether he's crossed that line, despite fighting for the good of the world.

His best trait is his loyalty; it's not that he's loyal to a fault, but he's loyal until he knows that there is reason not to be. He looks for the good in people, and tries to bring it out of them as well. His worst trait is probably the fact that he pushes himself far too much; he puts others before him so much that he doesn't always take care of himself properly. He also has a temper - which although he is difficult to anger, can get out of hand if he does lose his cool.

His biggest secret probably is the fact that his family were once slaves; he himself was never one, but whilst it is a point of pride to be a freeman, in his father's eyes, Micheal rarely ever talks about it, unless he's deciding to be more open with someone that he really trusts.

Markus

Markus has a slight preference for men when it comes to his love life, but wouldn't refuse someone if he felt a connection with someone else. He doesn't exactly use labels, letting his heart wander wherever it desires.

Markus' family is long gone, and he refuses to speak on them. When pushed, he'll reply with; "Silvanus is my father, and nature is my mother. Speak no more of this to me - you know me, and I believe that is all that matters." He is, of course, close friends with Ilvon as well, who acts like a quasi-big brother to him. He was also the 'ward' of Laenna (as previously mentioned) up until their separation.

Markus doesn't have a current romantic partner - and in fairness, he's still very sour and struggling to sift through his own emotions in regards to the shadow curse. Much like Halsin, he'll probably search for a partner after the curse has been lifted.

Markus' biggest fear is being unable to see his home in it's former glory - free of the Shadow curse, and thriving in harmony with nature. It's a plague of a thought, but it's never far from his mind.

His best trait is probably his ability to lead; he's headstrong and confident, which helps him to corrale Harpers, Druids, and others alike when it comes to eventually storming Moonrise Towers. His worst trait is without a doubt his temper; it's unruly and he struggles to keep it under control.

(If the shadowcurse is lifted) He keeps Laenna's shadow-vestige in a small, protective case, labelled with a plaque that reads "The night is darkest before the dawn. May the Morninglord give us strength to see it through." In remembrance of her, and her duty to Lathander.

Ilvon

Ilvon is a man who puts emotional connection above physical appearance when it comes to his relationships; he also, like Markus, doesn't really use labels. He's very free when it comes to love and relationships.

Ilvon left his family to pursue the life of a druid, and hasn't had much contact with them since. He still sends letters to his family, but doesn't receive any replies. He doesn't mind, though, he accepts that his desertion of his family may weigh heavily on them.

Ilvon also doesn't have any romantic partners at the current time; he hasn't managed to form that connection with anyone at Last Light; but he has had a few relationships in the past, which varied in length and partner. He typically gravitates to more open minded people than anyone else, since they seem to accept him and his lifestyle more than most others.

Ilvon is scared of the dark. If there's minimal light he can just about manage, but if there's no light then he's hit with a paralysing fear that makes his chest feel very tight - he's also afraid of heights. He can kind of get over it by not looking down, though!

His best trait is his patience - he has an abundance of it! He's the perfect mentor for unruly children in this regard, always making sure to treat them with kindness, no matter what they through his way. It also gives him the ability to sit for long periods of time - such as whilst hunting or waiting to attack an enemy. His worst trait is probably the fact that he doesn't always know how to assert himself in certain situations. He focuses a lot on being kind, and sometimes accepts workloads that over-burden him, when he should have just said no, but couldn't bring himself to.

He doodles little pictures of his friends, or animals, from time to time - though if caught or asked about it, he will utterly deny it. He's self-conscious of his artwork and mostly only does it to keep himself occupied, and entertain himself.

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parvulous-writings · 12 days

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Your answers about your ocs is so good! I'm glad you're excited about it! Good thing you can ask character creator 👍 I love it especially Renton is quite strong because he has done a lot of physical labour at his farm which makes sense 🤔, he's unusually not a charismatic bard until later on 😲, he only knew how to play the ocarina at first (Interesting musical instrument 🎵), he's a great eater who would try new food 😋, his favourite food are homemade food like bread 🍞 & cake 🍰, he would be amazed at a crowd especially from a distance but he would be nervous if he's in a crowd because he never experienced it before which makes sense 🤔, he loves animals especially Scratch that it's difficult to separate them 😍, it reminds him of the animals back at home & he needs some furry company 🥹, he's wary about magical animals but he warms up to them quickly 🤭, he's quite naive but he doesn't take long to learn how big the world truly is 👍, he does fall for some tricks though 😅, he never had to think about his sexuality & identity before this adventure 🤔, Michael is from a small community at Rivington, he's the oldest of three younger brothers but he never met them before 🥺, he loves to walk through nature even though he's not a druid 👍, he loves to spend time with everyone especially listening to their stories ☺️, he's not fond of fighting & war although he would talk if someone asks him, he would fight if necessary or to protect someone but he never brag or gloat about it though 👍, his hobby is to write music about those he care about 🤭 although no one would know about it except him, he also enjoys stargazing ✨ & birdwatching 🐦‍⬛, the reasons he took an Oath is because he has seen injustice in his youth as well as his father & elders influenced him to give justice to everyone ⚖️, Markus is bitter because he hasn't been able to do anything to save his home 😭, his favourite wildshape forms are boar 🐗 & stag (I love all the animals 😻), he used to travel with Jaheira, Ilvon and Laenna for awhile before the shadowcurse, He, Ilvon and Laenna settled in Moonrise after that particular adventure & spends time with the locals, Ilvon and Markus teach the locals about the land 👍, he loves to weave beautiful tapestries 😍 but he stopped after running out of thread at the Last Light Inn 😞, his mood would improved greatly if the shadowcurse is lifted 👍, he would blame Halsin & Reader if they failed but he would probably attack Reader 😨, both the sight of his home overtaken & most of his friends are likely dead takes a toll on him 😭, Ilvon would bond with anyone who would be a good friend 👍, he's soft-spoken yet sociable 😲, he would wildshape to a owl🦉, bear 🐻, or wolf 🐺 (I love all the animals 😻), he loves all kinds of books especially romance 🤭 that's spicy 😳, he can never explain it but he just finds trees intriguing 🤔, he enjoys decorating people's hair, to read a good book 📖 by the river is his favourite thing to do 😍 (Sounds nice!), he doesn't like violence but he will do it when push comes to shove 😤, he doesn't talk about it but he misses his home dearly 🥺, and he hopes with Silvanus's blessings for a miracle 🥹 Your reaction is so wholesome that it made my day ☺️ Thank you so much for answering my questions & for letting me know your reactions because I love it so much :) - Fluff anon

Fuff Anon, I am going to be SO real with you right now - I was genuinely overjoyed when I saw that someone had asked about my ocs; Very rarely do I ever get to even mention these characters, let alone have the opportunity to talk about them in-depth, so for this, I give you a thousand thanks! I see your next lot of questions (as well as the other request you've sent before) and will get those out as soon as I can! I've got a few sweet things on the way!

To the Dhampir bard anon, whoever you are... You are bloody brilliant, I love you (/p). I will give dhampirbard!Reader and their LI (keeping that a secret for everyone else teehee) the best I can!!

#requests open #Pavy talks

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parvulous-writings · 12 days

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i was wondering if i could request some headcanons of the male romancable companions (ie: wyll, astarion, gale, halsin) w/ an affectionate/clingy reader :] thanks!!

Wyll

Wyll LOVES the affection - he's an incredibly passionate man, and adores the fact that you're as mad about him as he is about you.

He's more than happy to hold hands or link arms whenever you feel like it, offering you comfort at every turn of your adventure.

He's a little taken aback at first, when he realises how clingy you actually are, but within the same breath it's already growing on him. To know that he is wanted, loved and adored by you warms his heart, and he always makes sure to reciprocate any affection that you give him.

There are times where he tries to urge you to tone it down, few and far between, but there are times. It's usually because you're in dangerous territory and he wants to be able to leap into action at a moment's notice. He does make sure to keep you close to him when you're walking - either behind him or beside him.

Aside from that, whenever you're close to him, handholding is a must. Either that, or linked arms. He just likes knowing you're close, and knowing that it also brings you some comfort. He also LOVES to give you kisses when he can - on the cheek, the knuckle, the forehead.

At night he always pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you to nestle against you - or you, him. He doesn't mind who holds who between the sheets, so long as the two of you are together, he's happy.

"My love, your embraces are such sweet refuge from our travels... It's a damn shame I have to leave it come morning..."

Astarion

His first reaction is to tease you about how clingy you are, and he does so relentlessly. The fact that you always have that need to be near him, to hold his hand or just have a hand on him is amusing; of course he's known many people who are like that, but it never fails to make him chuckle.

He'll make little comments to you when you sneak your hand into his whilst you're on the road; "Oh? Can't bear to be away from me, I see.", and the same when you try (and ultimately fail) to sneak into his tent at night. He finds it sweet, and after a time, it deeply touches him that you still come to him, despite what he is, despite what he's done, and despite what he could do to you.

Kisses are abundant in the confines of the tent, or when the two of you are alone - he really likes kissing your collarbones, and the area where he normally bites you. He likes to lick the spot too, especially before bed.

Astarion doesn't typically go for the whole public displays of affection thing - he isn't really sure how to react to it, and dually doesn't want to reveal his more vulnerable side to the masses. He will, occasionally, pull you close to him by the waist, though, if he feels like someone is 'encroaching on what is his'.

That being said, as the relationship develops, he becomes equally as needy as you sometimes, as he gets more comfortable with his vulnerable side, and comes to understand what he wants, and what he needs to heal.

Gale

Gale has absolutely no issue with public displays of affection - but his face will likely go bright red every time. On the road he likes to walk beside you, he doesn't necessarily need to hold your hand but if you want to, he will. He does like holding your hand whilst you're eating though - don't ask him why, he'll just deflect with another question.

One way he indulges your more clingy nature is by letting you lay over his lap whilst he reads, and keeping a hand on your head or your shoulder - sometimes he'll even read aloud to you, as well, should you ask. He also likes being the big spoon whilst you both sleep!

Another bit of affection he likes to repay to you - after you smothering him in kisses all day - is to feed you. He takes quite a bit of pride in making dinner for the pair of you, and feeding it to you afterwards, just so that he can see every little reaction you have to the dish.

He won't deny that he likes having you close as well, it's almost integral to his day that he has at least some quality time with you - he's not clingy per se, but he does like some good quality time together.

Halsin

Halsin is actually flattered that you're so affectionate. He enjoys being able to hold you close, knowing that you enjoy it as much as he does. To be able to wrap his arms around you and hold you close to his chest, is a great thing for him, he enjoys it very much. He also really likes when you sneak up on him to hug him from behind - as a larger man he doesn't always get to be on the receiving end of affection.

He likes hugging you close or having you sit on his lap (or lay against him in bear form) whilst the two of you spend time out in nature. He's a big lover of time spent in each other's embrace, and he feels no shame in being what some may describe as 'overly affectionate' - though of course he is aware that there is a time and place when it comes to certain activities.

Will playfully mention about how you always yearn to be close to him, but it's never in a derogatory way; if you asked him why it wasn't derogatory, he'd simply say: "It would be wrong of me to pass judgement on you, for something I so often do myself, my love.." He's a massive softie - a big man with an even bigger heart.

He will definitely try to hug you every opportunity he has, when you're in camp together. He's also suggested a few times for him to carry you on his shoulders when you become tired from walking. "Come, my heart - it is no trouble for me.. What is troubling, however, is seeing you struggle. Put aside your pride, it is not needed here.."

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parvulous-writings · 14 days

Note

I have several questions about your BG3 ocs! They seem interesting!

How does Renton Hillmane, Micheal Thornbrooke, Markus Bluebrook, and Ilvon Leafgrace look like?

Any fun facts about all of them?

Likes & dislikes?

Hobbies/Interests?

Hidden depths? Thanks! - Fluff anon

Note: You best believe I made the most excited screech when I saw this in my inbox!! I'll go through each question in turn, with each character you've asked for, fluff anon! Some of them I do have actual in-game pictures of, others I've only got from the character creator, as I'm running out of space for runs! I'll try not to go on too much about each of them... I could yap for hours to be honest

Renton Hillmane

Renton is a human in his early twenties, and has never left the farm that has been in his family for 4 generations. Due to the physical labour involved with farm work, he's very strong (with a stat of 16 STR in game, one lower than Karlach's STR) and also not that charismatic until much later in the adventure- the exact opposite of the typical bard. He plays the ocarina, and this was the only instrument he knew before going on the road (his abilities were later expanded, through means I may explain later and will be explored in depth in the fic!)

He's a fan of food!! He loves to eat - and try new food! He especially likes homemade food - bread, cakes and the like are a particular favourite! He doesn't like crowds, though. They amaze him for a while, especially from a distance, but being in them makes him incredibly nervous and jumpy; he's never really been around masses of people before.

Renton loves spending time with animals - especially Scratch! At times it's hard to separate the pair of them. Scratch reminds him of home, and gives him some much needed furry company. When it comes to more magical creatures (Such as the Owlbear cub, and Tara the Tressym), he's a lot more wary, but quickly warms to them.

To begin with, Renton is very naive, but he's fairly quick to learn not all is as it seems in the big wide world. That being said, he's still susceptible to some tricks. The adventure is also the first time Renton has ever questioned his sexual preferences and identity, having never needed to confront the idea before!

Micheal Thornbrooke

Micheal is a 48 year old half-elf, who took an Oath of Devotion and went on the road at 17. He originally hails from Rivington, just outside Baldur's Gate, from a small compound-like community, full of elves, half elves, humans, and a few Dragonborn. He is the oldest of 4, having three younger brothers, one of which he never really got to meet.

He loves to walk! Whilst he's not a druid, he loves to walk through nature, or anywhere really. Seeing the world up close brings him a lot of joy - and thankfully he's had a lot of it due to his lifestyle. He also loves spending quality time with everyone around the campfire, sharing stories about everyone's adventures - like Karlach's time in Avernus, Wyll's time along the Sword Coast, and Gale's endeavours before the Netherese Orb. Micheal isn't as fond of fighting as one may be led to believe; yes he has been in many battles, and yes he will talk about them if you ask, but he never brags and he never gloats. He dislikes war and will only fall on physical confrontation if there is no other option, or if someone is in danger.

He writes music about those he cares about - though most of these compositions never see the light of day, or the eyes of an orchestra. They're mainly a little pass-time for him, to keep him occupied on the odd day where he's taking a rest. He also likes birdwatching and star gazing.

The reason for Micheal's Oath is twofold: one, he saw an abundance of injustices as a youth in Rivington, and felt compelled to help put them right, and also the fact that his father and elders were bondservants in times gone by, giving Renton a deep-rooted feeling for justice, for everyone.

Markus Bluebrook

Markus is a Wood-elf druid, at 137 years old - He resides in Moonrise, and has done for quite some time. He is close friends with Ilvon, and was forced to take shelter in the Last Light Inn when the Shadow Curse overran the land. This has made him incredibly bitter, as he hasn't been able to do anything to save his home. His favourite wildshape form is a boar - though he's also rather fond of a stag, if he needs to move quieter.

Before the shadowcurse Markus travelled with Jaheira, Ilvon and Laenna for a time, being under Laenna's care after a personal family tragedy which he rarely speaks about. He, Ilvon and Laenna settled in Moonrise after that particular adventure, spending time with the locals - and Ilvon and Markus in particular teaching them about the land.

One of his favourite hobbies was weaving - he used to make the thread out of fibres himself, and would weave beautiful tapestries; though he had to stop after being cooped in Last Light, due to running out of thread.

His mood significantly improves if the Shadowcurse is lifted; but if not, he doesn't sit and mope, like Halsin does, he loses his temper big time. He blames Halsin for letting this fate befall his beloved home, he blames you for not doing more though you promised to help, and he will likely attack you also. The sight of his home being overtaken by an impenetrable darkness that kills all within has done a number on him - particularly the fact that he knows that most of his friends are likely dead.

Ilvon Leafgrace

Ilvon is a little older than Markus, at 209, but this Wood-elf is still close to his friend. Ilvon makes sure to make strong bonds with whomever he feels would make a good friend, and is actually quite sociable, although soft-spoken. His favourite wildshape form is an owl, but like Halsin he can get comfortable as a bear too. He's also been known to wildshape into a wolf!

He loves books - all kinds! He harbours a particular fondness for romance novels; particularly the spicier variety. He also absolutely loves trees. Not in a weird way, or anything, there's just something about them that piques his curiosity, but he can never quite explain what it is. He also likes to decorate people's hair! His favourite thing to do is read by the river side, the gentle waves of the current soothing his mind as he indulges himself in a good novel.

Like Micheal, he's not a fan of violence - he's much more mellow than his friend, Markus - but when push comes to shove, he will do what he must.

Ilvon deeply, deeply misses the way Moonrise was, before the shadowcurse. He doesn't speak about it much because it pains him, but he thinks about it every moment there is a lull in activity; his mind just wanders there, to the time before, when man and nature were in near harmony in this small place, even if only for a moment. He hopes, that with Silvanus' blessing, some miracle will help them rid the land of the blight that has tainted his home.

Bonus, the message I sent to my best friend when I saw this ask in my inbox:

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parvulous-writings · 15 days

Text

I've updated my original character request list! I've removed a few characters I haven't written for in a long time, as well as some characters that are now retired! I've also added my characters for Baldur's Gate! (With more well on the way!) If you'd like to request anything with them, or even just ask general questions about them to find out more;

Find the list here!

#requests open #x reader requests #Pavy talks

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parvulous-writings · 15 days

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reverence, the suspension of belief, and the death of the divine.

Pairing: Zevlor x F!Tav

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Angst. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1,525. Read it on AO3.

“How much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it's some kind of murder?” - Richard Siken

Tav has become something of an expert in handling damaged goods over the last year and a half.

Perhaps it’s crude to say that, but she fails to see the fault in calling something by its name. There is no shame in being damaged - she is damaged, perhaps in different ways, but scuffed and worn all the same. A fissure, a fault, spiderwebbed lines reaching out spindly fingers over the surface of her being. Waiting for the wrong word, the wrong breath, the wrong hand. And then? Only broken glass. Only the pop fizz shatter of it all.

He thinks he is damaged, and she has spent the last year trying to paint him a different picture; the portrait of a man weary from the years, yes, but not broken. Oil paint smeared, rusty in its vermillions and carmines, but no less beautiful than it was in its first days of being.

----

He’s a willing subject upon the altar of their bedroom, patient and pliant as she drags her lips down his chest, lips grazing over the ridges over his sternum. He’d been so shy about his infernal heritage when they’d first gotten together, all blush and bashful, terrified that she would find dislike within the features that branded him as ‘different’. Now, after so many times of her settling her love for him down upon his weary frame, he’s far less hesitant about it all.

What reason does he have for shame? When these pieces that make up the soft composition of his body are just as much him as the kindness of his heart, the spirit of his being? Nothing about him was ragged or rough - cartilage is, at the end of the day, just cartilage; made to bend, to sway.

“Look at you.” She murmurs against the swell of the side of his pectoral. “Absolutely divine.”

He flushes, barely visible against the cloudy red of his skin, and his lips part - tremble and shake in their attempt to form themselves around the syllables of a protest, forming the shapes, soundless. She’s heard it all before; that there is nothing divine about someone touched by Asmodeus, that such talk is sacrilege. That he’s older than her, that she’d be better with someone else.

She will entertain none of it tonight.

She silences him by pressing the flat of her tongue against his skin and drags it upwards towards his clavicle. His brow furrows at that, a choked sound bubbling up in his throat. She relishes in that, the ability to unspool his self-deprecation, replace it with the syrupy sweet rush of want. He tastes like salt and sweat and something earthy, and it makes heat pool low in her stomach.

“Beautiful.” She breathes out again, finality in her voice; she will not be undermined here, not tonight.

She’s reminded of that rush of power that fizzled through her the first time she used the tadpole against someone. Authority. White hot and electric, the euphoria followed by the crash as realization settled within her.

She does not mean to strip away his autonomy, only to strip away his doubts.

“You are incorrigible.” He huffs out, all gravel and lilt.

“And you are stubborn.” She brings two hands down to cup either of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the ridges on his face that he had once confided made him feel dreadfully insecure. “Be selfish for once in your life, Zev, please. Let me worship you, Commander.”

A number of things happen in rather rapid succession after that.

He lets out a sound that she’s certain she’s never heard from him before, rough and low, more akin to a growl than anything else. And then he’s gripping her hips - still so gentle, even now; a habit to revisit another day, lest she push him too far. She regards him through heavily lidded eyes as she testingly rolls her hips against his own, both of them letting out soft gasps when his length drags along her slick cunt.

“Gods, you’ll be the death of me.” The tips of clawed fingertips ever-so-slightly dig into the plush of her hips. She’s beginning to question her own resolve; the feeling of him against her, the barest hint of pressure against her clit. “Would you mind - could you….”

She dips down to ghost her lips over the shell of his ear. “Go ahead,” She prompts, all breath. “Tell me what you need, Commander.”

She doesn’t expect him to be so direct, but he’s tilting his head to the side to mirror her, his breath heavy and damp against her skin. “Ride me, please, Tav. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

A ripple of heat swims within her, and the lines between who is in charge blur; perhaps it matters little in the end, so long as he knows that she loves him, all of him. Every flaw, every fracture, every bruise and blemish on his pride that is, by all accounts, not as ruined as he may think.

She sinks onto him slowly, her breath catching in cobwebbed lungs and her hands snapping to splay out over his chest as she steadies herself. She’s been with him for a year now, but every time feels like the first; emotionally charged, boils within her until she’s something else entirely - brings her up until she’s seeing the world in technicolor.

His hands grip her hips just that little bit tighter as she begins to move, grinds down against him and thanks the Gods that she was gifted with enough core strength to keep it slow and languid and deliberate.

“Divine.” He chokes out.

And isn’t that what they are, really, at the end of the day? When you strip away the honorifics and the bravado and the prowess? Mirrors. Parallels. An echo of a thing once loved and twice forgotten. Hellrider Exile. The Hero of the Gate. Names in history books that will be forgotten long before they’re dead and gone.

There’s a gloss to her eyes as she moves, chest aching with something indescribable. Far past the point of yearning, something deeper and warmer and heavier. She thinks, maybe, if she makes him cum hard enough he’ll forget duty for just a little bit. Settle with her. Let this - their home, their lives - be enough. Cast aside the need for redemption and be still.

“I love you.”

She hopes it is enough.

“I love you too, Tav, Gods - I’m….”

On any other night, he’d be settled between her thighs for ages, taking her apart piece by piece until she’s a trembling mess, uncertain of her own name. Tonight is not about her - for once, she doesn’t want things to be about her.

“Come for me, sweet thing. Let me feel you.”

Mercifully, he does not protest; just grips her hips firmly and shallowly ruts up into her like she’s his saving grace. He groans, low and heady, as he spills himself into her - a vision like this, sweat-slick and debauched.

Gripping hands dissolve into him loosely wrapping his arms around her, settling her next to him on the bed. His face buried in her shoulder, catching his breath. It’s nice, the closeness of it all; skin against skin, comforting and familiar and warm.

“I really do love you.” She whispers against the crown of his head, right where the gnarled keratin of one horn meets his scalp. “I hope you know that.”

“I know, sweetheart.” An open-mouthed kiss against the slope of her neck. “I love you too. More than you know. More than you could possibly - you are everything.”

“Can it be enough for me just to be yours, for tonight? Nothing else? Just yours.”

How does one save someone from their own self-sacrifice?

She can feel him swallow thickly, the bob of his adam’s apple. “Is that really all you want?”

She gently shifts so that she can look at him - the blaze of his eyes, the twitch of his bottom lip. “More than anything. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“It’s rotten work, loving an old thing like me.”

“Not if it’s you, Zevlor.” She pulls him closer, wraps his arms around him like a safe harbor. “Not if it’s us.”

“Very well.” There’s a flicker of emotion in his voice, and it makes her want to shout, makes her want to rip apart the world for hurting him in such a way that he feels he’s unworthy of something as fundamental as love. “I have a feeling I couldn’t dissuade you even if I tried.”

“Don’t try. Just… just be.”

He falls asleep before her, cheek pressed against her shoulder, his brow knitted together. And she offers up a supplication to every God that will listen to her that she will find a way to soothe this ache he carries. That she will bless and keep him always. That he will always be something with her.

They don’t need to be heroes. They just need to be together.

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parvulous-writings · 16 days

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Untimely Reunion // Astarion x Elf! Reader

Summary: A reunion at a very unsavoury time.

Warnings: Mild mentions of grief/mourning

Words: 2.5K

Notes: Before anyone says anything. Yes. There will be a part 2.... At some point! Did kind of run out of muse for this partway through, but I pushed through!! Hope you all enjoy <3 My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist! Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider donating to my kofi! I’d appreciate it loads!!

Things were different, when you were younger - vastly different, from the situation you found yourself in now. You had grown up in Baldur's Gate - a city bustling with life, noise, and so much more besides. Your childhood was a rather happy one - a loving family, a good few friends, and all a child could ever want. Naturally, you had a tiny rebellious streak - but what child doesn't? Your rebellious streak had led down a much more appeasing path than one might have thought, though. You made a friend through it. Another elf, like yourself, by the name of Astarion. The two of you became fast friends - you thoroughly enjoyed his company and various quips he'd come up with. He enjoyed the more quiet, light hearted jokes you'd make. A slightly unlikely pair, the two of you, but an inseparable one nonetheless.

You spent the nearly the entirety of your youth together. Astarion went into Law studies, eventually becoming a Magistrate - and a damn good one, at that. He may not have been the most liked Magistrate in the city, but he was fair, for the most part. You, in turn, went into politics, becoming equally renowned for your prowess of speech. You were well respected, to say the least, to the point that there was a very large crowd who would follow you almost blindly when you made a suggestion for the city. The friendship between you and Astarion was very much a benefit, for both of you; Astarion could help you from time to time with the Legalese of your political rivals, and you kept him up to date with every single law that was freshly passed, typically on the day it was passed; a privilege that very few magistrates had, as most were brought into the loop within the next day or so. Word could travel slow within the world of law, at times.

You had this somewhat unspoken agreement between you for several years. The pair of you liked it that way - although you had your fair share of naysayers, saying how it was 'unfair' or 'too below board', the pair of you ignored it for the most part. It wasn't like the two of you were taking bribes from outer sources to change things, or to let things slide. Or, at least, you thought so.

One morning, you had expected a letter from the Elven Magistrate - a reply to a question (or, rather, several) you had sent him about some scripture a few days prior. But it never arrived, no matter how many times you checked, or pestered the one carrying the post. It didn't come the next day, either. Or the next. Or even the next. You tried not to worry about it, there were some points where Astarion was just too swamped with various cases to reply to your missives; as important as you were, he did put his job before most else. So you decided to wait.

After a week had passed, you had become truly concerned - this was more than just unusual, this was downright worrying. Astarion had never gone that long without contacting you - not even when the pair of you had had disagreements in the past. Though he was certainly a fickle creature, he had never been this bad. So, you took it upon yourself to give his household a personal visit. The journey there was much quicker for you than most would have assumed; being someone of such importance and high standing in Baldur's Gate made people very eager to be out of your way, rather than obstructing it. But when you arrived, there was no cordial greeting from the elf, nor even a flicker of a drape. For all intents and purposes, it looked almost as if there were no one home - besides, of course, the obvious care that the few servants he had employed had paid to the small estate and it's accompanying garden. As you briskly approach the door, and raise your hand to knock, a rather nervous looking gardener cleared his throat to get your attention.

"Apol.. Apologies, Laird.." He stumbled over his words as he addressed you, and clearly couldn't bring himself to meet your eye. "His worship isn't here at the present time..." "That much is obvious." You replied, sharply. "I'm sure his Steward would be happy to let him know that I paid a visit, would he not?" "... Stefan is also, not here right now... He's.. He's with the constabulary..." Your blood ran cold at this. The constabulary? Why in the hells would the steward be there? This could only mean trouble. Your glare, focused on the gardener, urges him to continue. "H-he's been there since this morning - his worship is, um.." He trails off, his voice audibly wobbling as he does. "His worship is what?" You ask through gritted teeth, taking a slow, but meaningful step towards him. "Missing- ... His worship is missing, your grace..." The gardener was trying to hide his nerves and failing spectacularly. Some things start to click into place inside your mind. "For how long?" You ask, your volume dropping. "Just over a week, your grace..." That's why he hadn't responded to your letters.

You lapsed into silence, as the gardener hurriedly explained to you all that he could recall about the situation; the morning that he had disappeared was like every other morning. He got up for breakfast, and made some idle chatter about what he was expecting for that day. The gardener scrambled to list a few of the things that his employer had mentioned - there were three cases of petty thievery, mostly concerning Gur and others that lived outside of the main city walls, that had been blown out of proportion, a property dispute, and a few cases of various assaults that had made it to court. To your knowledge, there was nothing out of the ordinary at all. Not to mention, the gardener didn't mention any unusual behaviour from the elf. Not that he would notice it anyway, to be fair to him, but at least he was trying to be helpful. A curt farewell to the fellow followed, and you were quick to leave - even quicker were you to call for an investigation into Astarion's disappearance following the Steward's report to the Flaming Fist. The search went on for near four months - you refused to let the Fist simply file this as a cold case. It was a perk, you seem to recall being told by another friend of yours, of being in the public eye so much, and being in such good standing. The Flaming Fist simply couldn't afford to displease you on this matter, lest you speak out and entirely tarnish their reputation as a law-force. But, eventually, both you and them had to admit that there was nothing more you could do - Astarion was gone, and there was absolutely no sign of him.

Naturally, you began to mourn. Your childhood friend, just... Gone. Of course, you didn't know if he was dead, but he might as well have been. It felt strange in your day to day life, catching yourself thinking about the next time the two of you would have afternoon tea, or exchange letters, only to have to remind yourself that those pass-times would be no more. As your grief deepened over the next few months, you started to accept the fact that maybe he was dead. Astarion - as wonderful a magistrate as he was - wasn't always the best at staying on people's good sides. But he was so young, for our kind. You'd think to yourself. The more thought you gave it, the more it tragic it became to you. Your childhood best friend, your closest confidant, gone before even his 50th birthday. But, time moved forward, and eventually you did too - never entirely forgetting the man, but beginning to think about him less and less. What was the use in dwelling on things that couldn't be changed? You thought about him from time to time, but came to accept that whatever had happened to him, he wasn't coming back to the city, if he was even still alive.

That was, until you found yourself amidst a mindflayer invasion. You had heard whispers, of course - who hadn't? But to see one of your fellow politicians warp, mutate, and change before your eyes... It was horrid. Nauseating. Thankfully, some deep-rooted need for survival took hold of you, and you broke into a run, trying to flee the creature before it could get it's newly-formed tentacles wrapped around your head. Scampering out into the street, you saw that you were not the only one who had been ambushed by someone suddenly undergoing ceremorphosis. The streets were in chaos - you could hardy even dwell on what had become of the city before you were on the run again, sprinting down various alleyways in an attempt to flee the hundreds of mindflayers amongst the populous. When your legs grow sore, and your lungs short of breath, you wearily come to a stop. Your hands rest on your thighs as you try in vain to recover from your sprint. You were so wrapped up in trying to figure out what in the hells was going on, that you don't hear the wet, smacking sound of a mindflayer trailing up behind you.

"Look out, you fool!" Was all you heard before being pushed to the ground - out of the way of the horrid purple creature that had nearly caught you by surprise. You didn't really get a good look at your saviour to begin with; his face was obscured by the sun. All you could make out was the tips of his pointed ears, and how some of his curls had nestled around them. You paused, watching as the figure made sure the illithid was dead with a flurry of blows from his dagger. "Gods, are all of you city dwellers this blind?" He scoffed, with a 'holier-than-thou' tone. It was one you felt was... Oddly familiar. No, more... You knew that voice. Your brows furrow, as you slowly push yourself to your feet to come eye-to-eye with the man who saved you. Red eyes glare back at you - piercing and, in a way... Keen. "Well?" The man says, impatiently. There's a rather... Upper City edge to his accent, making it all the more familiar. "... No. We're not." You reply, almost deadpan. "But... Thank you." You reply, trying to show at least some decorum. Your saviour pauses, something in his eyes... Shifting. He seemed almost shocked, but he was quick to recover. "Well, make sure it doesn't happen again." He seems quite smarmy - a small smirk gracing his features, making his eyes crinkle. "I can't go around saving everyone, you know..."

And then it clicks. You know where you've seen that face before.

"Astarion?" Your voice is quiet, unsure. Part of you can hardly believe - or maybe, doesn't want to believe - that Astarion is standing in front of you. He looks different, now. His hair is white, even paler than what it used to be, but it still curls around his ears just the same. His eyes are a deep red, and as he starts to practically sneer at you, you can just about make out the fangs that now reside in his mouth. "Is.. Is that really you?" You mumble, just barely managing to stop yourself from reaching out to him. Astarion stares at you for a few moments longer, before the sneer that had put itself upon his lips melted away, replaced with something much, much softer - something almost mourning. Something in your chest begins to ache, and you realise you had begun to cry as you feel wet tears trail down your cheeks. The elf just seems stunned. "Gods, it's been centuries-" You take a step towards him as you speak, and he takes an instinctive step backwards. "It... Has.." He says, slowly. He seems quite unsure of himself - caught off guard, even, by your presence. "You... Look well." He tells you. This isn't quite the Astarion you remember, he's much more reserved now. Or perhaps he's just nervous. "You look... Different." You echo back to him, and you see him visibly swallow. That must be a sore spot for him. He opens his mouth to speak, then sighs. "It's... A long story." He tried to avoid your gaze, and you could remember him well enough to know not to pry- especially now that you were pressed for time. He glances over his shoulder as something booms off in the distance. He curses under his breath, before turning back to you. "... How about this? We can be all sappy after this world-ending crisis is stopped... If we both survive." He says to you, and you slowly nod in agreement. Standing here for too long could get the both of you killed. "When this is over.." He continues, "I will meet with you... Say... One of our old haunts - the tavern, near where you used to live... And I will tell as much as I can..." He offered you a smile as he spoke, and you could see those sharpened teeth of his more clearly. Something wasn't just different about him, something was wrong - but, for the most part, he still seemed to act like the Astarion you used to know. You consider it for a moment - what could go wrong, should you both survive? - Before nodding softly. "It's a deal... I shall wait for you." You tell him, pushing down the myriad of growing questions that you had for him. How was he still alive? Where had he been? Why did he look so... Different? He gives a slight chuckle - you hadn't changed much at all, in his eyes. You were still that same sly, snarky politician he had known in those centuries past. He gave a rather playful bow to you, falling back into his old ways. "I shall try not to keep you waiting for too long.." You could hear the smirk on his lips as he spoke, before he rose to his full height again, his expression falling. "Now, go - find somewhere safe... And do try not to let anymore Mindflayers sneak up on you, I won't be able to help with those ones..." He murmurs. "I am, unfortunately, needed elsewhere..." He tells you, starting to march forward, dagger still in hand. You start to call out to him, but you're hardly through the first word of your sentence when Astarion calls over his shoulder to you. "Just go!" You have few other options but to do as he says, ducking into another alley and taking refuge in a partially destroyed home. You hoped to remain at least somewhat safe, here... You'd have your thoughts and theories on the other Elf to keep you company, at least. You clasped your hands together as you sunk to the floor to remain out of sight to anyone who may peer inside the building, quietly praying, to any God that may listen to one measly mortal, that the pair of you may live through this.

At least, until you saw him again.

#requests open #x reader requests #x reader oneshot #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #romance #astarion x reader #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion

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parvulous-writings · 19 days

Note

Somethin filthy with Harper Geraldus?

Decided to do something a little different for this once since I have a few bigger projects I've done/am doing with Geraldus!

Harper Geraldus NSFW Alphabet

NSFW UNDER CUT. MINORS DNI.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man clings. He has to be touching his partner constantly, and this is even more intense after intimacy. Lots of cuddling, lots of his face buried in his partner's neck. If they need cleaned up at all, he would insist on a bath together. Overall just a very sweet little thing.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think that Geraldus holds a certain amount of pride for his hands; he's a Harper, he uses them to save people. To expertly wield a bow. To heal, to help. I think that's significant to him.

As for his partner, I don't think Geraldus falls into the camp of lusting over typically sexually-charged features. I think his favorite thing would probably be his partner's eyes - the intensity of a gaze, the way they soften around the edges when they look at him, the way so much possibility is held within such a small thing.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

If you were expecting this man to be adventurous in this camp, I'm sorry to say he is not. He's something of a traditionalist; if his partner isn't on some form of contraceptive, he's using condoms. If they are, he'll finish inside. He isn't fond of finishing on his partner - he thinks the whole thing is a little degrading, honestly.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Is it really a secret if it's kind of obvious just from looking at him? This man is a massive sub, and on the rare occasion that he does top, he's a service top. He really enjoys his partner having their way with him and using him for their own pleasure.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Inexperienced, but makes up for it with enthusiasm. He's had maybe one partner in the past, and he doesn't really know what he's doing, but by the Gods is he eager to learn. Tell him what to do, how you like it, and he'll do his damnedest.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. I sincerely believe that sex is something monolithic and sacred for this man; he likes the romance, the ritual of the thing. He wants to hold hands and make eye contact. He's also not opposed to his partner being on top.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He tries to be serious, but he's so shy and there's more than a few blunders during the act, and that lends itself to some giggling. It takes him a while to relax and realize that sex isn't some intense, strict thing.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he trims, but doesn't shave completely.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Intensely romantic. As I said in the favorite position section, sex is about much more than the physical to him; it's about the union, it's about showing his partner how much he loves them. Lots of breathy 'I love you's.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I really don't think he masturbates often. When is there time for that, really, with how busy he is with Harper business? When he has a partner, too, I feel that he prefers to get off with them instead of alone. On the rare occasion that he does, it's a quick affair that's done mostly out of necessity - usually ends with him biting down on the heel of his palm to stifle his sounds, thinking of his partner as he spills onto his fingers.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

This man would go insane if his partner edged him. He just would. Edging and overstimulation, 100%, I will not be taking criticisms at this time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He's not really the... adventurous type? I feel like he'd really prefer to be in the bedroom, to have a specific place set aside for an act that he puts so much importance on. He's not opposed to bath or shower sex, though.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The little things. A lingering touch, a stolen glance, the bead of sweat on his partner's brow after a long day. It really doesn't take a lot; he's got a fairly high libido (covered more in the Yearning section).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He does not ever, ever want to hurt his partner. Sorry to all the hard!dom Geraldus girlies (gn) out there, but have you seen this man? He looks like he's going to cry constantly. I think he would genuinely be distraught if his partner ever asked him to indulge in sadism. Or masochism, for that matter; sex isn't meant to be painful, in his eyes.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

GIVING!!!! I'm not saying he would be good at it at first, but dear god does this man have enthusiasm. The sloppiest head his partner has ever received in their entire life; so much fucking spit.

If his partner returned the favor, though? I think he'd short circuit. Give this man a blowjob.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Slow and sensual, always. Sometimes he gets a little over-enthusiastic or desperate, but even then I wouldn't call him rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He would really, really prefer to take his time with his partner, but he isn't opposed to the occasional quickie if they both really need it. He'd still be soft and sweet during the whole thing, and would probably forget that a quickie is, in fact, supposed to be quick.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's open to experimentation in some aspects - softer kinks, mostly. Nothing hard. As for risks... no. He's really not the voyeurism or exhibitionist type, he's not going to hurt his partner, and he doesn't think sex should be associated with danger.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

One, and he finishes relatively quickly unless he's being edged. You can get more than one orgasm out of him if you're dabbling in overstim. But even if he finishes before his partner, he's more than happy to make it up to them by settling his mouth between their legs or using his fingers.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don't think he's really the toy type, though if his partner wanted to introduce them, I don't think he'd be opposed. Give this man whatever the Faerun-equivalent of a Hitachi is? It's over for his partner.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He doesn't like teasing, I don't think; but he enjoys being teased.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This! Man! Whines! So! Loud! Part of the reason why he really prefers to have sex in the privacy of his own home is it means he doesn't have to hold himself back. He's a whiny little thing, probably whimpers when he comes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He's hesitant the first time his partner brings up pegging, but when he actually goes through with it? He's a changed man. Eyes rolled back, literally drooling, practically sobbing. Moral of the story - please peg this man.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average, in my honest opinion; 5 inches with the usual amount of girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

High. Very high. He doesn't act on it all the time, but he is constantly down bad for his partner - he's inexperienced, and he's needy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don't think he falls asleep all that quickly, really; I think he likes to take his time drinking in the closeness with his partner after the fact. Will probably wait for his partner to fall asleep first.

#all of this #VERY MUCH AGREEE YES YES #bg3 geraldus #harper geraldus #God Geraldus is so... I have no words #Very well written #LOVE YOUR WORK OML #totally normal about this

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parvulous-writings · 20 days

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BG3 Fanfic Sneak Peek

So, as I've mentioned previously, I'm also working on a bigger fanfic for Baldur's Gate (It's currently unnamed, but I'm working on it!) I thought I'd give you all a sneak peak of the first chapter, which will be under the cut here! It's from an early part of Chapter 1, though not directly the beginning, so as to not spoil anything! It's more of a focus on the initial dynamic between characters! If you'd prefer to go in to the fanfic blind, that's totally okay! Don't feel pressured to read this!

The pair walked for about ten minutes, in complete silence. Shadowheart did not want to talk, and Renton was too nervous to even consider starting a conversation. It wasn't until they started to near the end of the stretch of beach that anything worth talking about actually caught the attention of the pair. About 50 yards ahead of them, crouched in front of an old wooden door, was the dis coil horned, dusk skinned Tiefling that Renton and Shadowheart had first met whilst on the Nautiloid. Clearly, she had woken up much quicker than either of them. The young woman hadn't noticed their presence as they approached her, continuing to just mutter quietly to herself as she gave another attempt. "Almost… Almost…" She murmured, over and over again, as the tiny clink of a lock sounded, before a resounding clunk, and the near unmistakable snap of metal. "… Mrag." She spat, slowly pushing herself up from her crouched position. Dusting herself off, she started to turn, jumping a little bit when Renton and Shadowheart finally caught her eye. "Panthea!" Renton called gleefully, picking up his pace a little bit to pull ahead of Shadowheart. Panthea offered the man a mildly crooked smile as he approached. "Ah, there you are… I thought the two of you had…" She waved her hand in a circular motion, as if she were trying to conjure the word she was looking for into her mind. "Perished in the crash?" Shadowheart offered, folding her arms over her chest as she spoke, the metal of her breastplate clunking quietly as the metal of her vambraces came into contact with it. It was clear, even with Shadowheart's usual behaviour being snide and snappy, that she did not like the dusk skinned woman standing before them. "I was hoping to phrase it slightly more… Tactfully than that, but yes." Panthea chuckled hollowly.

Shadowheart did not look impressed at Panthea's attempt to lighten the mood of the conversation. Her lips had turned to a scowl, and her nose had started to scrunch slightly with the movement. Renton, on the other hand, looked practically over the moon at the survival of his newfound friend. "You should come with us-" He began, completely oblivious to Shadowheart's disdain for the Tiefling. "We're going to go find somewhere with a healer… Or try to at least; Shadowheart thinks there may be a settlement nearby." Renton couldn't help himself from filling Panthea in on what he and the half-elf had discussed. Panthea nodded, almost sagely, in response. "Oh, yes, I'd say so… If these ruins are anything to go by, at least." She pointed behind her as she spoke, to the old wooden door she had been trying to pick the lock of. "They may be deserted, but I'd wager there's at least something still nearby… Even if it's small." She told Renton, whose gaze had turned and trailed up the massive stone wall that was behind the Tiefling. "That's possibly the smartest thing I've heard you say," Shadowheart commented snidely. Panthea just chuckled; "Oh, believe me, stick with me for a little while and you'll see that I'm absolutely full of smart ideas…" "Why were you trying to break in to here?" Renton asked, interrupting the building argument of the two women. "It looks entirely deserted…" "I know - that's half of the reason." Panthea replied, almost gleefully. "A building, standing this tall after Gods know how many years of abandonment? It was built with care - and with purpose. There has to be something inside, there simply has to be." She told Renton, as her gaze flitted to the old lock once more. Typically, Panthea had no issue prising apart the mechanisms of any lock presented to her - half the reason she was able to stock her small curio shop back in the city was because even though half the world was seemingly locked away from her, she was able to break through. "And - to be entirely honest with you my friend - I would rather take my chances in a musty old ruin, then try and make my way through the burning wreck of that Nautiloid. In my humble, but quite often correct opinion, this would be our best option of survival." Renton heard a scoff from behind him as soon as the words had left the Tiefling's lips. "Correct opinion?" Shadowheart spat, almost mockingly. "I doubt that. Renton had to convince you to even give me a second glance back there," It was clear that the half-elf was very much holding a grudge, and rightly so. Had it not been for Renton's good nature, it was almost certain that Shadowheart would have been left in the pod upon the Nautiloid, to die in the crash, or worse - become a mindflayer. Lae'zel - the group's Githyanki companion for a few hours before the crash - had no opinion on the rescue of the cleric, she had merely wished to leave the Nautiloid as soon as physically possible. Panthea, on the other hand, had actively tried to convince Renton to just leave the woman there in the pod. "It was a matter of survival, nothing more… I'm sure you understand, hm?" Panthea replied, a blasé edge to her voice. A few beats of silence fell over the group, as the two women glared holes into one another's faces, and Renton just stood there, awkwardness just radiating off of him.

#baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur's gate fanfiction #fanfic writing #bg3 fanfiction #dungeons and dragons fanfic #fanfic #fanfic wip #wip wednesday #pavy talks #work in progress

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