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blkgirl-writing · 6 months

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What Happened at the Moon Lit Pond PART 2

Gale of waterdeep x F!Reader smut

Summary: You and your companions finally made it to baldurs gate, well, rivington. And it's finally time to relax and have a fun day out.

TW: drinking, sex, oral, PnV, F/M sex, thigh riding, brothel, overstimulation, a bit of anal, begging, everyone is consenting! I'd love to do a public sex chapter sometime, but not today.

word count 3.3k

{part one} {part 1.5}

It had been a long time since that night at the pond. You had long since left the grove and past the shadows, almost to baldurs gate, actually, in the small town of rivington. It was a long and difficult journey, yes, but with ample time and opportunities to talk about what had happened. But it never came up. Instead, there were many longing stares shot your way on gales part, small flirty conversations, and even more excuses to skip away from your companions to get any alone time with Gale, practically praying to the gods he’d say something first. But Gale wasn’t the type to come out of his comfort to express his feelings, let alone such complex ones. He had been rendered speechless.

Today was different. Maybe it was the long journey nearing it's end, but everyone was ready to let loose, even if it was just for a short while. Karlach and Wyll had split up to look for some armor, jaheria stayed back at camp to care for the small child who lost their mother, so it was a smaller company than you were used to. Just halsin, Shadowheart, Astarion, and of course, You and Gale. It was really a perfect day to mill about town, the sun beaming down in warm rays of light, not too hot and not too cold out, not even a hint of rain, so the dirt paths often muddy were dry, no ruining the clothes you had just washed.

Everyone was at their happiest, though of course, the underlying anxiety and pain for events soon to come were lingering, just pushed aside for the time being.

"Is the sun usually this blinding?" Astarion hissed, shielding his eyes with his hand "I don't remember everything being this bright"

"It simply feels brighter coming out of the shadows, you will get used to it" Halsin smiled down at Astarion, slipping behind him slightly to cast a shadow around him, guarding him from the sun. "We Haven't been inside in a while, why don't we find a shop to rest in for awhile, we have some money to spare"

"I could use a new hair ribbon, My old one looks a bit strange now that my hair has changed.." Shadowheart commented, lightly playing with her hair.

You went from shop to shop, it didn't matter, stopping by everything on the way, getting food, drinks, jewlery, and other small goods, the last place you had any energy for was a small looking shop with people outside raving about their service and pleasure being a customer there., without really looking at the sign or name.

Inside was dimly lit, a dark oak, cream, and red color scheme. Easily the most expensive place in all of the town.

"this is...awfully fancy, isn't it?" Gale murmurs, eyes flickering across the room.

"Certainly. I wonder what we could get to drink, I need a good wine..." Astarion immediately glided across the hall and to one of the counters, a huge smile graced his pale face. He stood there, talking for quite a bit, meanswhile, shadowheart wandered around, peaking her head into a room, she slipped a bit more into the room, then suddenly jolted out.

"Shadowheart? you look like you've seen...a lot"

"It's a brothel!" Astarion and Shadowheart said in unison, shadowheart nearly a whisper, Astarion nearly a yell. The woman behind the desk gave them both a nasty stare for the disruption of the ambiance.

"oh of course, sorry, beautiful" Astarion cooed at the woman. the immediate reaction to his flattery and dashing smile visible as she tucked her auburn hair away from her blushed face. He sauntered over to your merry group, that smile still plastered over his face. "I got us a discounted rate on a pair very talented drow."

"Excuse me, what now?"

"I got a discounted rate for an absolutely lovely time with drow twins for the same rate as one person but five. And we will have two rooms for comfort of space. I'm just that good, you all should be thanking me."

"Thank you, Astarion-" Halsin crossed his arms, a small smirk on his lips.

"I-thank you?" Shadowheart sputtered, still looking a bit frazzled by her earlier revelation.

you were still trying to process all of what just happened when even Gale spoke up.

"Well, looks like you'll have just...four people joining you, I'd prefer the company of a good book and an ale right now, i think."Gales eyes met yours for a split second, as you looked up at him. A very distinct look. He wanted you. It was hunger, lust, but restraint. He wasn't going to stop you from having fun with your company, but god did he want you to stay with him.

"I...um.." you looked up at Gale, fully taking him in this time. Gods...He was really the only thing you wanted. You wanted his soft hair between your fingers, your thighs wrapped around his waist. You wanted to feel his tongue shoved inside of you again.

"I think I'd like an ale or two as well."

"Oooookay...Well, since i already paid for two rooms, why don't you both buy a round for the spare room while we get busy." Astarion's eye roll was quite visible and very pointed, but that didn't matter, no one would actually remember anything that was said, as they'd be wrapped in bodies and sweat, including you.

So you ordered two bottles of ale and two of a beautiful red wine, they sat in the middle of a small round table. The room itself was stunning, the walls painted a deep purple, with a golden trim at the tops and bottoms. There was a bed centered in the middle of the room, with an abundance of fluffy pillows on top and a velvet sheet to top it off. It was by far the fanciest room you'd stayed in. Everything dripped of gold and pearls, there was even a damn chandelier. If this was a side room, you wondered what the main room must've looked like.

"This is...." You trailed off, still taking in the whole room.

"extraordinary?" Gale muttered, taking no time to sit down and pour out two glasses of wine. Something was obviously on his mind, as he swirled the red liquid around, his eyes were slightly distant, and his brows furrowed. It didn't surprise, you, though, there was a lot going on, and he had the chance to end his own life to possibly save the world, and yet here he sat, already on his second glass. There must be a lot on his mind, you thought.

Really, he just wanted the courage to make a big move, and a bit of liquid honesty couldn't hurt. While you drank, he tried not to stare, but it seemed to be getting harder and harder. He wanted so badly to reach out and devour you. He wanted to taste you again, grip your thighs with his hands, leave hickeys across your whole body, he wanted everyone to know how much he could pleasure you. He couldn't help but look at his drink, look at you, and the bed. he kept repeating 'just tell her' Tell you what? He wasn't sure what to even tell you?

Was he madly in love with you? Likely. Did he Lust for you? Always. Of course he did. Out of all the worldly and otherworldly beings, things, concepts, you were the most perfect. He Would year the night sky apart to see your smile. Commit crimes to stare into those eyes endlessly.

"They're certainly making some noise," The drinks were certainly kicking in, your voice was a bit shakey, but your head still fairly clear, clear enough to hear the moaning and grunts from the other room, even some....weird god kinks, you weren't sure and didn't care to be that snoopy.

Gale chuckled, nodding his head. "I would bet 5000 gold I could get you moaning louder than all of them, combined."

"Is that the wine talking?" You tried to blink away the disbelief and shock you clearly wore on your face, Gale was an upfront man, but this was on another level...

"Only to help say what's been on my mind." His deep brown eyes looked at you with incredible lust, more than you'd ever seen before, It was hot, searing, intense. "You have always been on my mind."

You got up from your chair, legs weak not from the wine, but from how this charming wizard looked at you like you were the entire world, right in front of him. "Is that so?" You wanted nothing more than for Gale to wrap his arms around your waist and take all of you til night passed and morning arose.

Your legs slotted through his perfectly, your knee nearly grazing his crotch. In one big gulp, you downed the rest of your drink, and leaned over Gale to set the glass down on the table, not very subtly getting closer to him, and even though your chest was practically in his face, he was still looking into your eyes.

"it would be such a waste if we didn't use such a beautiful bed. We're not often afforded those luxuries.." You took one more small step closer to him, reaching out to the hand free from drink, guiding it to your waist. "And we don't want to be wasteful..."

"Certainly not." Gale took one last sip of wine, licking the small drip that fell from his lips. He stood from his chair, his obvious hard on graising your hip. A small gasp left your lips, gods, you had forgotten how badly you'd wanted him, how big he felt...It was all returning to you. Your face flushed with heat as you remembered his tongue deep in your pussy, your lips wrapped around his cock.

Gale was emboldened by the wine, tipsy off of lust, his mind racing with all that he wanted to do to you, sweep you off your feet and into the weave. but that would have to wait, the here and now, right in front of him, you practically offering yourself to him yet again, he'd be a fool not to take it. "Come here, beautiful."

You let out a sigh, biting down on your lip as you sat down on his thigh. He wrapped his hands around your hips, squeezing slightly, almost reassuringly. He guided your hips back and fourth, while pressing you down further onto his thigh. your dress rode up to your waist, only your thin underwear creating all the friction you ever needed between your pussy and his thigh, getting ungodly close his his bulge yet never quite close enough.

His pace was slow and hard, Still clutching onto you like you absolutely needed it, which, was true, as the longer he rocked you the more wobbily your legs felt. You breath started to get heavier and heavier. Your head fell to his shoulders, the pleasure wracking through your whole body.

"No no, beautiful, look at me when you cum" Gale's hand inched its way to the back of your neck, pulling your head off his shoulder and holding you steady as you looked into his eyes,

It was all so much, his needy eyes begging for you to cum, your throbbing pussy, the small wet stain now on his pants from how gods damn much he turned you on, it was hard to keep his stare but you did, as you moaned his name, gasping as pleasure kept pulsing through your body. "fuck..." you chocked out. He let go of your neck but kept his hand on your shoulder, still keeping a firm grasp on your hip as it was clear you weren't exactly stable.

"I...That was..." You nearly whispered, still shuddering from the orgasm. You were so flustered, something that wasn't too easy for you, yet, he made you. His intensity with a smile had you dizzy. "Do you want me to return the favor?"

He raised a hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to look at him fully, to stare into his eyes.

"Let me make love to you-" Gale cooed, soothing you with his charm. "Sit back and let me give you everything."

"Yes, please-" you practically begged. Gale used his fingers to tilt your head slightly, leaving room for him to trail kisses and love bites down your neck, sucking on your skin, leaving you with shivers down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your hands nearly shooting up to grasp his soft hair, pulling him even closer.

"you're so beautiful-" He muttered between hickeys, breath getting heavier as you pressed your hips against him, feeling how much he wanted you, straining

You pulled away slightly, grasping his hand and struggling a bit to get up, turning to lead him to the bed. Although your eyes were set in front of you, you felt his gaze scan your body, how your hips swayed as you walked, he wanted to take all the time in the world to explore your body, learn it more than anything he'd ever read.

"just lay down, beautiful." He pressed his hand to your chest, pushing slightly, letting you fully relax into the bed, his body hovering over yours, his steady and strong arm next to your head, the other making quick work of unbuttoning your dress.

"Take those off for me," he looked down at your panties, slipping a finger at the band of your underwear and pulling it back, snapping it against your skin. It took a moment to register, there was so much distracting you, but you somehow managed. Completely bare and laid out, displayed like a work of art for him to admire. Gale took a moment, sitting up on his knees, to take you all in. His fingers traced along your stomach, lowering slowly, with such a light touch you could barely tell if it was him or a chill.

It shouldn't have been surprising but when he slipped his middle finger inside, you gasped, letting a moan escape your lips as his finger curled in and out of you, working in a slow and consistent pace. His index finger grazed your clit every time he pumped in and out, lightly, still taking you down from the high of riding his thigh, him knowing you'd still be sensitive, to not overstimulate.

"Come here" You pulled him in by his hair, now slightly tosseled and looking frankly unfair. "kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice, quickly pressing his own lips to yours. He tasted of the sweet red wine, with hints of caramel and clove. He was delicious , addicting. You licked his bottom lip, opening his mouth to allow you deeper into his mouth. While you explored his mouth, he slipped another finger deep inside you, pushing in further than he had been doing before, quickening his pace.

His lips left your own, slightly panting, a bit out of breath. He then trailed down your neck to your breast, looking back up at you, asking permission to suck on your skin. You nodded desperately, gods you needed anything he would give you. His lips attacked to your nipple, sucking and licking, bobbing his head with every pull, it was all building up.

"I'm gonna cum, gods, Gale please I'm close-" You begged, yet he pulled back quickly, you let out a disappointed groan, why would he stop now? It didn't take long to get your answer, he wanted your cum on his mouth. He moved fast to move his mouth to your pussy, not relenting in his speed with his fingers and now, tongue. It didn't take long for the wave of bliss to wash over you, uncontrollable sounds coming out while he rode our your orgasm with one less finger and slowing down with his lips. It wasn't until your hips stopped shaking that he drew out his fingers, moving them to his mouth where he sucked them dry, letting out a small moan when they were clean. "divine.."

His clothes were stripped off, yours now completely tossed aside, the cool air hitting you both, but neither of you really noticed. You were focused on his hard cock pressed against your pussy, grinding againt your lips, getting slick with his spit and your cum. It would be so easy just to slide it in, but he drew it out, teasing you til you begged, pleaded, please, you needed it, you wanted him so desperately. Yet still somehow a fraction of his need for you the past weeks.

Gales restraint was shocking, even to himself, but the sight of you underneath him, begging for his cock, glowing from the orgasm he brought you, was enough for a lifetime, though he hoped there'd be many more lifetimes of this.

One more whimper is all that it took for him to shove himself deep inside you, all the way to the hilt. You felt him pressing against your cervix, a small but sharp pain from the sudden sensation , a good pain, that meant you were taking it all, and so well for him too. He had waited too long for this to stop, he kept pumping inside you, at an unrelenting pace, fast and hard. He switched between sucking on your neck, your breast, and biting your lip, keeping eye contact whenever he could. He wanted to see how much you wanted him, and he wanted you to know how much lust he had in his soul, just for you.

Gale held your neck with his hand, grasping lightly, as he came for the first time, shoving his cock even deeper into your pussy as he slowed his pace down, nearly whimpering in your ear as his head fell to your shoulders, biting down on your skin to keep from some more sounds he found embarrassing, but was so very sexy. You expected him to lay down and rest, after that, but he kept going.

"Flip over for me." He asked, giving your earlobe a small nibble as he spoke. You couldn't move fast enough, laying down on your stomach as he held down your waist, fingernails digging into your skin, leaving small crescent dents. You shoved your ass down on him with every thrust, wave after wave of orgasms wracking through your body, it felt endless, overwhelming. When it all felt like enough he kept going, adding more, rubbing your clit as your ass bounced on his cock, his thumb slipping in and out of your ass, him completely exiting you and only coming back in when you came from his words alone, sweet talking you into more orgasms. Or stopping completely to finish you off with his mouth again, you'd squirted in his mouth more than once, and he came once just from that. Maybe the stopping and starting was also so he himself could keep going as much as he could muster, but that never crossed your mind.

"You take it so well-" and "I want to see you need me" and "You're just too beautiful when you cum, I can't help but follow."

You went until your bodies gave out. Too sweaty, too raw to take anymore.

Gale fell beside you, out of breath, tan skin glistened with sweat and cum, his cock still leaking a bit, though even he was shocked there was anything left in him. You laid there for minutes, maybe longer, it didn't matter. It didn't click that the room next to you had fallen silent until you'd finally caught your breath. Actually...you remember the screams and moans ending a while ago. you notice Gales eyes had also turned to the shared wall, probably coming to the same conclusion as you.

"Do you think they heard us?" You asked, a small smile forming.

"Most definitely."

A/N: Well that was a lot huh? This took probably 20 hours straight of writing if not more, so please tell me if you liked it! It would mean a lot to me. Requests are always open but slow, as i'm not a fast writer haha. Thanks for following along! My gale fics have done better than I ever expected, I've gotten about 1k new followers from them I believe, so thank you all!

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ofstardustanddreaming · 4 months

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when jealousy happens

headcanon summary: jealousy ensues from astarion and gale in your party, and there's some banter that happens when they both want you.

content warnings: none

fandom: baldur's gate 3

character: astarion x reader, gale x reader

male reader

anon request

you weren't sure when the banter may have truly started to happen, but you definitely remember the first time you were privy to their more public displays of dispute. it happened in camp, when astarion threatened gale with a dagger in his hand, and gale giving threats back with magic from his hands.

you were curious and worried about this potential fight, as was the rest of the camp. but laughter and snide remarks soon erupted from many, including you, when you heard the taunts between the two of them and what clued you all in to what they were fighting about.

they were arguing over you. which, while you did feel flustered over the potential attention that you weren't used to, you thought it was cute. to certain extents at least, because while it was cute at some times, you found that it could be frustrating to deal with in other areas, such as fights. like when astarion would make a snarky remark towards gale when stabbing an enemy; "i'm a much better fighter, it proves i would be a much better protector," and gale retorts with, "i'm a much better defensive attacker, which proves i'm just as good at that position. but who says that he needs a protector, when he does just fine on his own."

it causes strife at times, but it is endearing to have two people fight for your affections. at camp, everyone snickers as gale and astarion fight their way over to you to sleep near you, each taking one side next to you. each one wants to have a last snarky remark before you head to bed, and you groan from under your pillow as you try to get some sleep. you end up having to snap at the both of them to be quiet before you're able to get some sleep, but not before one of them has something to say about the other annoying you. you have to roll your eyes at their goofiness, wondering if you should say something at some point .

because, you are led to wonder when at some point you'll have to make a decision if that's expected. you are worried at some point their arguing would lead to actual bloodshed, wanting to prove themselves to you and trying to outdo each other in their competition. astarion's louder pride compared to gale's more quiet, but still seething pride might not be able to make it out of their banter in one piece. someone was bound to take actual swings at the other if you weren't going to say something soon. shadowheart, karlach, and wyll are the ones you turn to in terms of advice one night.

"i'm just not sure. i have to tell them to quit their bickering soon, right? i'm not wrong in the guess that someone is going to end up murdering the other over me." you tell them, hoping for some sort of wisdom.

"how lucky you are, having two men racing after your heart. how funny it's also been." karlach snickers, with some laughter from the other two as well. "but, i would have to agree. you'll have to make a decision soon, lest one of them really does make a remark that the other can't ignore."

"talk with them at least, give them some terms of things like how long you need to make a decision, so that way banter doesn't eventually lead to something happening." wyll continues off of karlach's opinion, with shadowheart agreeing. karlach eventually nods, clearly thinking about the slight amusement that comes from a potential scuffle.

"is blood what we're talking about? because, if you chose me, you wouldn't have to worry about me feeding from you when you least expect it. this vampire thought he'd be able to steal a quick snack from me, who knows if he'd be able to do it with you?" gale says, overhearing the conversation and coming in to say this to you.

"and he eats magic, it's all really the same, isn't it? and he's eavesdropping." astarion pipes in, with gale glaring his way, proving points that astarion was doing the same thing.

you could only sigh, dragging the two of them to a more secluded area in the woods to give them an earful of what your terms were, wanting to have the time to make a decision in your perilous journey to baldur's gate. (who knows, maybe you'd be able to romance them both, if that's something everyone was open too. if a poly relationship was to be reached, you'd hear more banter than you thought was possible.)

#astarion x reader #astarion x male reader #astarion headcanon #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 headcanon #gale #gale x reader #gale x male reader #gale headcanon #gale dekarios headcanon #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x male reader #bg3 #bg3 headcanon #male reader headcanon #male reader

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sspiderliliess · 2 months

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diamond .

⟶ astarion x nervous, soft gn!tav — romance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m,” I hummed. “I’m unsure.”

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

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

I ignored it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I didn’t think I would again.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #gn!tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

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thewildnopeboat · 4 months

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(Dumb idea that struck me in the shower while recovering from the flu. It may be the medicine talking but her goes nothing)

Context: single player, female Tav at camp

Tav, looking up at the stars: You want to know something?

Astarion, who for the last hour has been trying to meditate: If it would get you to shut up, fine.

Tav, lays down: A lot of people think Paladins are goodie two shoes. I've seen my master slaughter an innocent woman and her children just because they went against the church.

Astarion, sits up, sighing: You've got my attention.

Tav: My master was a by the book sort of person, never questioning why he had to do something, just did.

Astarion: And yet here you are, being a goodie two shoes.

Tav, sits back up and faces him: That's the thing. I'm human, young, and rather silly in my beliefs. My Devotion isn't towards a god persay... its... it's silly really.

Astarion, rolls eyes: If you're going to leave it off like that, I'm going back to meditate.

Tav: Fuck you, let me continue. Devotion to one's God is good, but I've seen Devotion devoid of humanity. It's horrible. In fact, the only time I saw him wince was when I said I never wanted to be like him. That's what lead me back to Bauldar's Gate.

Tav, reminiscing: I remember, the first time I got back there. I visited my old orphanage. I was moved from there when I was around five or so, but I knew most of the places that still are open. I knew my mom was a local whore down the street. She dumped me at the orphanage so she could get back to being a show girl. Nothing to it though, she wondered out of my life, married someone, and is probably dead by now.

Astarion: a bit dark.

Tav: I know. My favorite memory was around midwinter, I happened to be out late one night because the water froze. I waddled out into the cold and almost fell in to the small well we had. Would have died if I hadn't seen something floating down in it. A small white thing, down at the bottom. Care to guess what it was.

Astarion, losing interest: What?

Tav: A small white fluffball of a bat.

Astarion, visibly shaken, but doesn't turn to show off his face: oh?

Tav: Cute thing too. I used all my strength to pull it and the bucket of ice out of the well. After pulling it out of the well, I could tell it was in rough shape, so I shoved it between my clothes and my skin and waddled back inside. I think it got warm enough to get scared because it bit me a bit. *moves shirt down to show scars of small claw marks disappearing below the collarbone*

Astarion, turns: Yikes. That must have hurt.

Tav, shrugs: Yeah, but I caught it again and gave it a stern talking to. I nursed that bat for a few days and let it go. It only would feed on blood, so I caught some mice in the back alleys and let it eat. It was really skittish, wouldn't come out in the sun, didn't like harsh smells, though that wasn't easy to deal with when there's about 10 kids per room, and it didn't like the younger kids. I let it go at night after a few days, but it was so cold I couldn't stay out for long.

Astarion: what has that have to do with you being a Devotion Paladin?

Tav, finally laying down: where else does Devotion come from, but love and compassion for others?

Astarion, confused: That makes no fucking sense!

Tav, sleepy: I miss him, and I channel that feeling into my conversations. Love, compassion, and the knowledge that one day, it will all go away. I'll have the memories, or- *yawn*- someone else will, and that's what matters.

#bg3 paladin #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 bat astarion #bg3 fan conversation #semi based on a few stories about my dad living on a farm and fishing out small animals and frogs from the well house and the farm well

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yarpharp · 6 months

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Okay but amidst all the insane thirsting for Astarion, I am that one demisexual who just can't help but wonder: if you actually got to the choice where you and him just TALK all night instead of fuck, and you ACTUALLY got to talk your way through a dialogue tree instead of an immediate fade-to-black, what the hell would you two talk about?

I'm not saying that Astarion isn't a conversationalist. He had to make himself extremely good at inane small talk and faking interest when he lured people back to Cazador, of course he's good at making conversation. Even when you talk to him outside of the romance chatter, he's undeniably suave for all that a lot of his lines feel heavily rehearsed or carefully curated.

But if you put him in a situation where he actually had to engage personally in a discussion, what would he offer? He's spent 200 years under the control of an absolute motherfucker who repeatedly tortured him. When did he have a chance to indulge in anything but what he was told to be? Did he manage, with his roguish skills, to steal books and things? Did he hide and hoard a very beaten but precious collection of nonsense tomes under the floorboards of a room, or in an overlooked nook somewhere? Did he have a brief stint where, amidst his time hunting for the next mark to bring to Cazador, he chatted up some amiable merchant guild people? How good was he at toeing the line in such a way he could have the smallest inkling of a social life?

It's questions like these that end up leaving me to think of wild possibilities. Yeah, maybe he did have a weird collection of books. He might know how to sew very elaborate embroidery patterns from some book he stole from some merchant daughter's bookshelf. He might be shockingly knowledgeable about a stupidly specific type of regulatory city laws that've been outdated for eighty years because he once seduced a would-be prosecutor for the courts of Baldur's Gate. Perhaps he did casually chat with some fellows from the Alchemist's Guild because they were happy to tell him about their crazy experiments while never remembering his face as a result of running on barely five hours of sleep. Thus, he knows a LOT about experimental poisons or how to turn healing potions into bombs using only one obscure ingredient that anyone can grow in their city garden. Maybe he did have a few acquaintances he was fond of but never actually let himself care about too much out of fear, and when he found out they had died of old age while he kept living in a fucking nightmare he still gets choked up about it (but he does a terrifyingly good job of hiding just how bothered and upset he is about it, because surviving Cazador meant being very good at faking irreverence in the face of what he was actually feeling).

Or maybe none of that happens. Maybe he's still too disbelieving and mistrustful of your honest interest to only chat and not immediately engage in sex. He'll instead just let you talk, and make a few comments. He'd rather watch you and listen to you than be any more vulnerable than he already feels. Such is his way, in the name of keeping himself safe.

... Yeah. This shit fucks me up.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #random thoughts #headcanons #i guess?#more like I just wonder what could have been #astarion buddy i just wanna talk #we can exist like sworn virgins and never touch #it's absolutely fine #rambling

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mythrae · 7 months

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Invisible String

Part Two: Clues I Didn't See

Summary: As if by fate, Divya and Dammon are reunited. They both wish it was under better circumstances.

Word Count: 3.8K-ish

Warnings: 18+ (minors do not interact), blood/injuries, otherwise some nice fluff

Author's Notes:

sorry this took me so long to write I got ADHD

click here to read pt 1!

click here to read on ao3!

Where's Dammon?

That was the first and only thing on Divya’s mind as she woke up in her tent, all alone.

The last thing she remembered from the night before was resting her head against his strong, broad chest, the beating of his heart lulling her to sleep. She enjoyed her night with him, truly, but now she was worried that inviting him back to her tent was a foolish thing do.

Hells, she thought, did I say anything stupid last night? She tried to think back and recollect her conversations with Dammon, but nothing stood out in particular. Everything between them seemed… normal.

Did… did I fall asleep while he was talking to me?

“Oh Gods, strike me down, please…” she muttered embarrassingly, opening the flap to her tent to see that the sun was already risen, shining bright in the sky.

As she drowsily stumbled out to the campground, she noticed that she was the last member of the party to wake up. In fact, everyone else already had their belongings packed, camp clothes changed, and ready for whatever adventure the new day would bring them.

She stretched her out body, doing anything she could to wake herself up, when she heard the familiar voice of her fiery friend calling out to her.

“Hey, Div! Come here!” Karlach motioned her over.

Still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Divya trudged over to her companion’s tent, praying to whatever God would listen that this wasn't about her midnight visitor.

“Say, I couldn’t help but spy Dammon leaving your tent earlier this morning."

Oh, Nine Hells...

"What fun did you two get into last night?” Karlach leaned in, wearing a shit-eating grin, “Was he… you know? A good shag?”

“Karlach!” Divya almost shouted, causing Scratch's ears to perk up, “You can’t just ask me about my business like that!”

“Oh, come on soldier, it’s just a bit of morning banter, that’s all!”

“You’re one to talk, Karlach.” Astarion chimed in from his own tent, not once glancing up from the book in his hands. “Let’s not forget what you said about what you’d do to Wyll if your internal engine was fixed…”

“Oi, okay, we get it!” The fiery tiefling fussed at the pale elf, lifting her hands up in surrender, “Fine. What happened last night stays between the two of you.”

“Anyways,” she continued, hands lowering down to her hips, “if you’re wondering why Dammon left so early, I believe Zevlor wanted all the tieflings to leave as soon as dawn broke so they could use as much daylight as possible to travel. At least, that’s what I heard him telling one of the others last night.”

Oh, so I didn’t completely embarrass myself? Well, thank the Gods!

“Hopefully they have a safe journey,” Divya replied. “Hells knows they’ve been through enough already.”

“Indeed, they have,” she heard a deep, burly voice reply from behind. When she turned around, she saw that Halsin was approaching her. He must had stayed the night in camp for him to be here so early in the day. He stood in front of the two tiefling women, casting his shadow on their forms.

“I trust you enjoyed your evening?" He continued, "After all your efforts, it was well deserved.

“Oh, I think she definitely enjoyed it, all right.”

Divya wished Karlach wasn’t literally on fire so she could deliver a swift kick to her shin.

Unphased by the woman's banter, Halsin continued.

“It may be some time before you are afforded another such night - there is much to be done, and I promised I would help you however I could.”

As Halsin continued to speak to the party about traveling to Moonrise Towers, she couldn't help but worry about Dammon and the other tieflings. Sure, they were a tough bunch, but to make it through the Shadow Cursed lands that Halsin was speaking about... it seemed a daunting task, even for her.

Will the others make it? What about the children? Will Dammon be okay?

She tried to shake these thoughts out of her mind, but it was no use. Divya found herself unable to focus on anything else.

***

“You there! Step forward and keep your hands off your weapons!”

There was never really much commotion at the Last Light Inn, so when Dammon heard one of the Harpers shouting, his interest was piqued.

He and the other tiefling refugees hadn’t intended to stay there long, in fact, they had planned to be in Baldur’s Gate by now. However, their caravan was ambushed by members of the Absolute’s cult. Some of them were captured and taken to Moonrise, some of them were killed, and only some of them were lucky enough to get away with their lives. Thankfully, they found the Harpers and the inn when all hope seemed to be lost.

“Easy, she’s with me.” Another Harper responded.

Must’ve ran into them while out in the Shadowcurse, he thought. He didn’t blame these trespassers for wanting to tag along with the Harpers, especially after all the tieflings went through.

Dammon’s makeshift forge in the barn of Last Light was a bit ways away from the entrance to their current safe haven, so he couldn’t make out who these refugees — or intruders — might be. He watched as Jaheira strolled over to the party, her gaze focused on the woman who stood in front of the group.

A warm glow emitted from the druid's hands, followed by a burst of green energy surrounding her and the party's leader. Before she could even process it, the intruder's legs were entangled in a growth of vines, holding her in place.

The woman scoffed, clearly annoyed with Jaheira's cold welcome. “Just this once, I wish people would simply say hello.”

Oh hells, he know that voice anywhere.

Divya?

“Hello,” Jaheira replied to the tiefling monk, a sarcastic smile wiped across her face.

“Look," Divya begged, "Can you at least explain to me why you’re doing this?”

Dammon watched closely as Jaheira pulled a curious-looking jar out of her pocket. Inside, a disgusting pale creature squirmed and writhed in it's tiny enclosure.

An illithid tadpole.

He's heard the Harpers speak about them, briefly. That the leaders of the Absolute cultists were infecting people with the tadpoles to eventually turn them into mind flayers. The cult members called the contaminated "True Souls," for they can hear the voice of their God in their heads. Sounded like something from an awful fairy tale, but seeing as that Elturel could fall into Avernus, almost nothing surprised him anymore.

Jaheira extended her arm out to Divya, holding the parasite's jar close to her head. In an instant, there was a connection between her and the tadpole. He could hear the creature banging aggressively against the glass walls, as her brow knit in pain as she held her head in her hands.

So… she was infected? Dammon thought.

“Please!" She cried out in agony, "I am not… a True Soul…”

He watched as Divya struggled to speak, the tadpole in the jar clearly being the source of her struggle. Jaheira did not seem to feel any sympathy for her, just shaking her head as she held up a signal in her other hand. In a heartbeat, the Harpers standing near her had their crossbow drawn, aimed and ready to strike…

He wanted to stop them in that moment, but he was scared. He was only a refugee himself, after all. They could easily turn the crossbow on him.

But he knew Divya. He knew her as the woman who helped save the Emerald Grove, the one who took down the leaders of the Goblin Camp. She wasn't some monster who was here to sabotage them. If anything, he knew she was here to save them.

As soon as he had gathered up the courage to say something, he saw that a little red tiefling beat him to it.

“STOP!”

He watched as Mol ran to Divya's side, arms outstretched as if to save her from the Harper's wrath.

She pleaded with Jaheira to spare the tiefling monk, sharing how she not only saved the Emerald Grove, took down the goblins, but also saved two of her friends. She went in great detail to share how Arabella was rescued from Kagha and her deadly viper, and how Mirkon had been saved by a flock of harpies.

Hells, Dammon didn't even know she had saved the children. No wonder Mol was sticking out her neck to keep Divya alive.

“I pretty much trust her with my life.” Mol finished, giving Divya a genuine, warm smile.

Jaheira looked to Divya, then back to Mol, then back to Divya once more. Dammon could see the two sides going at war in the druid's mind. He knew her priority was to save as many people as she could from the cult of the Absolute, but it would be extremely risky to allow a tadpole-infected person to stay with the others.

Finally, with an exasperated sigh, the magic in her hands faded away, causing the vines to retreat from Divya's ankles. She had earned the druid's trust... for now.

“Congratulations, you’ve earned yourself the benefit of the doubt.”

As the Harpers were given orders from Jaheira to stand down, he watched Divya's shoulders relax. She had found refuge at the Last Light Inn. And she knew her party was thankful they didn't have to camp in the Shadow Cursed lands at night.

Dammon chuckled to himself, finally walking their way. “And here I thought Jaheira was gonna serve you up for dinner tonight.”

Divya’s head swiveled so fast in his direction, he was worried she had pulled a muscle.

“Dammon!” She shouted, unable to hide her excitement as she ran into his open, strong arms.

He held her tightly in his embrace as she wrapped her arms around his neck, rocking her from side to side. The tip of her tail found his as they wrapped tightly around each other, bringing them even closer together. As his rested his chin on top of her head, he caught a whiff of her scent — one he had longed to smell again after the night they shared together — and as it filled his nostrils, and he felt his knees nearly go weak.

Oh, how he’d missed her.

“What are you doing here?” Divya asked, her feet barely touching the ground as he held her. “I thought you would all make it to Baldur’s Gate by now!”

"Trust me, I did too..." He trailed off, lowering her back to the ground, his arms wrapped loosely around her. "Our caravan was attacked. Us tieflings here are the only ones that survived. Some were captured, and...well..."

"Oh Gods, Dammon," she whispered, "I'm so sorry."

"I feel the worst for Rolan, honestly." Dammon continued, "Cal and Lia were taken as hostages. I suppose they're at Moonrise Towers. Gods know what they're going through over there."

"Hells... we'll find them, I promise." She assured him, reaching her thumb to brush gently against his cheekbone. "No matter what it takes."

She met his steely blue gaze, sending a warm shiver down her spine. Gods, it felt so good to be back in his arms...

"Um, not to interrupt such a tender moment between you two, but..."

"Ah, Karlach!" Dammon smiled to greet her, feeling Divya's arms slide off of his shoulders. "How's the good ol' engine of yours?"

"It still runs hot, but I have some infernal iron that you can tamper with to help me out. If you're willing, of course."

"More than willing," Dammon replied, motioning to his forge in the barn, "Seek me out after you've rested for a bit, and we can talk a bit more about it."

"Oh, I know you'll be making up for lost time with this one right here," She nodded to Divya, "This one has been worried about you like crazy."

"KARLACH!"

The fiery tiefling stifled a laugh as she watched her companion's face turn bright red. "What? You don't want him to know how anxious she was thinking she'd never see you again — or Gods forbid, you didn't ever want to see her. And to think, it's only been a little more than a ten-day since we've seen you at the tiefling party."

"And why would I ever think that?" Dammon half smiled, looking at Divya burying her face in his shoulder. His hand rested on her lower back, gently rubbing it with his knuckles.

"Ah, I think that's enough teasing the poor girl for one day, I suppose." Karlach finally yielded. "Besides, I think Jaheira wants to speak to us. Something about receiving a blessing from the Shadow Curse."

"I'll be there in a moment." Divya replied, her voice muffled from hiding in Dammon's clothed body. As soon as she was sure Karlach had walked away, she revealed herself, her cheeks still flushed.

"It'll be all right, Divya." Dammon comforted her, giving her a light squeeze with his arm. "Go, join the others. I'll seek you out soon."

***

The tieflings refugees really never seemed to catch a break.

After Divya and her party arrived, so did another unexpected guest — Flaming Fist Marcus, along with an army of winged horrors. They fought hard to capture Isobel and take her to Moonrise Towers, but the refugees at Last Light fought harder, killing all the intruders, without any casualties on their end. Most of those that fought were injured, but it was nothing that a cleric or two couldn’t fix.

Divya was injured pretty badly, but still wore a grin on her face as she helped lead the others to the makeshift infirmary on the inn's first floor. Her pained smile was a dead giveaway to those who knew her that she hurt more than she was letting on, but her party didn't dare comment on it. She was stubborn when it came to matters like this, and they all knew better than to bother her when she was assisting others.

“Divya, please. Rest a moment.” Dammon called to her, watching her carefully from the inn's entrance, “You’re going to make your injuries worse.”

He could see that she had been injured, the fabric of her uniform slashed apart and soaked in blood around her stomach and chest. Whether or not it was her own blood, he didn't know. But what he did know was that she needed medical attention, fast.

“What are you talking about?" She nearly snapped at the infernal mechanic, "I’m fine!”

"Divya-"

Before he could finish his sentence, one of the injured refugees accidentally crashed into her.

She stumbled as she wailed out in pain, followed by collapsing, hard, on the wooden floor of the inn. She tried to put herself back on her feet, but her arms gave out, falling back to the ground again.

Dammon was at her side in a heartbeat, positioning himself underneath her so he could pick her up in one smooth motion, cradling her weak body in his arms.

“Come here, dear.” Dammon whispered, his lips brushing against her forehead. "Let me take care of you."

He hastily carried her to the barn where he kept his forge, walking up the stairs that led to the attic. He held her tightly as he walked up the stairs, fearful that he would slip out of his grasp. Her only signs of life were her heavy breathing and the tight grip she had on his tunic.

The door to the attic was slightly ajar, so he was able to enter with little effort. His space was humble, a few of his belongings scattered about the loft, along with a small table and set of chairs. It wasn't a space he spent much time in, so he felt no need to decorate. He set her down gently on his own bed, propping up a pillow under her head to keep her comfortable.

“How are you feeling?" He asked, his eyes filled with worry as hers stayed shut, "Are you okay?"

She exhaled heavily, slowly opening her eyes. "Dammon... please, don't worry about me."

"I don't think I have a choice." He chuckled, pushing back a few stray hairs from her forehead, damp with sweat. "You took quite a tumble back there. If I were you, I would have gone to a cleric right away."

"I promise I'm fine, just let me — argh!"

She tried to sit up, but her efforts were worthless. She fell back into the mattress with a flustered sigh. She hated feeling weak, fragile, vulnerable, especially when others needed help. She would rather die making sure that others would live than be selfish and care for herself first, that's what she learned in the monastery back in Elturel.

But those days were long gone, cast to the side, just as they did to her.

“Listen, just lie back and do as you’re told, dearest.” He walked towards a table on the other side of the attic, with a box bearing a medical symbol on the front.

“You wanna make me?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He joked, making her heart leap in her chest as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Now, where exactly are you hurt?”

“…across my stomach. One of those wretched winged horrors caught me off guard.”

“I see. Can you undress for me?”

Divya knew why he asked her to take her clothes off, but she couldn't help but blush at the... other implications his question could be interpreted to mean.

However, whenever she tried to move her arms to slide her top off, the pain in her core was too much for her to bear. She was absolutely helpless.

"Uh, Dammon, I think I may need your help..." She called to him, rather sheepishly.

"Of course," He grabbed his medic box, carrying it over to the barrel by his bedside to assist his patient.

He sat next to her on the mattress, coaxing his steady hands underneath her body. Hie guided her to sit up straight, the whimpers of discomfort escaping her lips pulling at his heartstrings. He helped guide her arms up above her head so he could gently slide her bloodied top off, trying his best not to disturb her wound, and placed the clothing in a heap on the floor.

But when Dammon turned his attention to her injury, he felt his heart drop to his stomach.

The winged horror had nearly disemboweled her, the gashes so deep he was worried that they may have scratched more than her vital organs. Her uniform was tight enough that it helped stop some of the bleeding, but it definitely was not sanitary. She could potentially contract an infection at any moment, and if that were the case, she’d be in grave danger.

On top of that, her body had new scars, ones he hadn’t seen during the night they shared together. He noticed the new scar on the side of her face, the ones spanning across her neck and chest, even a few on her thighs. They had all ranged in different stages of healing, He could tell that whatever the refugees had gone through while traveling through the Shadow Cursed lands, her battle had been far worse.

“Nine Hells below, what happened to you?”

“A lot.” She sighed, “Lae’zel led us through a githyanki crèche. They… weren’t too kind to us. I'm surprised they didn't hack off my tail."

He shivered at the thought, tucking his own tail close to his body in response. “Looks like it.” He reached into a bucket and pulled out a washcloth, wet with a substance unfamiliar to her. As she inhaled, the scent filled her nostrils, reminding her of a strong alcohol.

“This’ll sting. Breathe in for me…”

Divya hissed through her teeth as he pressed the cloth directly on her wound. It didn’t just sting, no, it felt as if her body was literally on fire. Her breath quickened as the pain swept through her entire body, gripping at the sheets of his bed with her fingers.

“Hells, Dammon, what are you doing to me?” She felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes as her body contracted from the pain.

“It’s to help clean the wound.” He explained, calmly. “The cut’s a bit deeper than I thought, and the last thing we need is your wound getting infected.”

"Am... am I going to need stitches?"

"Definitely," he replied, disposing of the dirty cloth in a bucket, "but don't you worry, I have everything we need right here."

His fingers worked quickly with the needle and thread, stitching her back together with ease. Divya was in awe at how the man who's rough, calloused hands worked with metal and heat day in and day out, could be so gentle with her injured, delicate body now.

She gazed upon his face, concentrated on his sewing. "How do you know so much about medicine?"

A small chuckle escaped his lips, his eyes still focused on her wounds, "Working in the forge, you can get hurt easily. Best to handle it yourself when there's not a cleric around."

He tenderly pulled the final stitch, tying the thread in a knot and pulling the rest with his teeth.

"Alright, we're almost done." He said, reaching into his medic box one last time. "I know you won't stay out of trouble, so I need to swaddle you up a bit so the stitches won't open."

He wrapped the bandages around her waist, bringing them down to her hips. She winced as he applied pressure to her newly stitched wounds, but she knew that she would rather have them quickly healed than for them to open up again.

"Thank you, Dammon," she whispered, finally feeling relaxed. Their first day at Last Light Inn may have been troublesome, but with Dammon here, she felt safe. "And... I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I hate... I hate being weak."

"It happens to the best of us," he replied, putting the rest of the unused bandages back in the medic box. "We all have to rely on others at some point."

"Well, if I'm going to rely on anyone, I'm glad I can rely on you."

"Any time, dear," he smiled, leaning over to place a kiss on her lips. She responded in kind, lifting her head to press her against him. His hand caressed her face, his thumb idly rubbing against the healed scar over her cheek.

Even now, in her most vulnerable state, he still found her beautiful.

It was almost like he always thought of her that way.

#mythrae writes #bg3 dammon #dammon bg3 #dammon x tav #tiefling tav #bg3 tav #bg3 tiefling #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

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whatacaitastrophe · 3 months

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Gale x Taph - For Rim-Draws

Do You See What I See?

Song Inspiration: "The Lotto" by Ingrid Michaelson ft. AJR

A One Shot For @rim-draws <3 Thanks for requesting this! I had a great time writing it, and thank you for your donation to my Ko-fi!

Would you like me to write a BG3 one shot for you? Check out this post and send me a message <3

Of all the things that Gale expected to happen when he asked Taph to play with him in The Weave, he certainly hadn’t expected the sorceress to imagine the two of them sharing a romantic moment. Granted the moment Taph pictured in her mind was simply the two of them holding hands as they walked along the Chionthar, but how else was he supposed to interpret the vision, if not romantic? Gale certainly couldn’t remember the last time he walked alongside someone hand-in-hand in a platonic manner, and he couldn’t imagine doing so now. It wasn’t so much the vision itself that startled him, but the person who had it. In the tenday or so he’d known Taph, his relationship with the sorceress thus far was friendly enough, but their differences on how they viewed and wielded magic often ended in the two of them bickering, albeit playfully, with their companions rolling their eyes. Taph hadn’t really expressed any romantic interest in him at all before their moment in The Weave, and had even snuck off with Lae’zel one night to engage in what Gale could only assume to be some sort of Githyanki mating ritual (whatever they were doing, it sounded a mite painful), so the vision she shared with him? It caught him off guard and left him blundering like a schoolboy who’d never talked to a girl before.

The fact that Taph’s vision flustered Gale so easily, when he’d shared a bed with a goddess for nearly a decade without any sort of trepidation? That annoyed him. What annoyed him more was Taph’s determination to not be alone with Gale since the moment it happened, as though she were avoiding giving him an opportunity to address the situation. Only, Gale needed to talk about it. He needed to understand if that was a fleeting thought, or if there was the possibility of Taph feeling the same way that Gale had begun to feel. Moreover, he needed to redeem himself after how awkwardly he reacted to her vision in the moment. Thus, a decision was made.

That evening, as they all sat around the campfire listening to Taph’s brother, Taf (which was not confusing at all), and Astarion as they regaled them all with the story of a Gur monster hunter they’d encountered earlier that day. A truly horrifying tale, and Gale was grateful they’d acted so quickly. Despite himself, Gale had begun to grow fond of the vampire’s antics, and their camp would probably be a bit more boring without him. Gale looked over to Taph, who appeared to be watching the pair from where she sat, and he moved to sit next to her, hoping that the presence of the others would not immediately send Taph rushing away.

“Could I speak with you, please?” Gale requested, his voice above a whisper, but certainly not loud enough that the whole group heard him asking Taph for a private conversation.

The drow female was wearing her usual black mask that covered nearly half her face. While the mask was very pretty, and looked lovely on her, Gale hated the damn thing because it meant he could not see Taph’s eyes. The eyes were a window to the soul, he once read, and the fact that he could never see Taph’s, that he could only rely on her words and what little of her facial expressions he could see to interpret how she felt? It was maddening. Gale briefly wondered if Taph had taken off her mask during her tryst with Lae’zel, and a pang of jealousy shot through the wizard’s body that the githyanki warrior had perhaps seen a piece of Taph that she otherwise heavily guarded.

“Looking for another magic lesson?” Taph teased, a slight smirk blooming on her face. “I’d be happy to give you an opportunity to learn from the master.”

Gale sighed. “I’m fairly certain it was I that gave you a lesson in magic that night, not the other way around, seeing as The Weave is my domain.”

“You mean your ex-girlfriend’s.” Taph pointed out, and Gale winced. Taph’s smirk grew, as though she sensed Gale’s agitation.

“If you’d like to be technical about it, yes, I suppose you are correct, but I didn’t seek you out to discuss technicalities, Taph. You’ve been avoiding me.”

The drow frowned, immediately deflecting. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We’ve just been busy.”

“Not so busy that you couldn’t find the time to speak with literally everyone in camp but me every night since our magic lesson,” Gale huffed. He wasn’t stupid, and the fact that Taph was trying to treat him as though he were to avoid this conversation only agitated him further. Gale let out an exasperated sigh and a pleading look spread on his face. “Please, Taph?”

The sorceress turned her head to observe him (at least, he assumed she was observing him), and she was quiet for a moment as she considered Gale’s request. Eventually, Taph let out a resigned noise and stood. “Fine.” She agreed, and turned on her heel to walk towards Gale’s tent. Gale jumped to his feet, trailing after her like a lovesick puppy (Shadowheart’s words, after she saw him pining from afar one day, not Gale’s). Once Taph reached Gale’s tent, she stopped walking, only to stand in the exact spot she’d been in when she allowed Gale into her mind long enough to see her romantic vision of the two of them. Were he not a mite nervous about the conversation at hand, he probably would have thought something of it, but alas. Nerves won the day.

“You wanted to talk?” Taph asked, gesturing to Gale expectantly, and Gale saw the faint raise of her eyebrow as it peeked out from the top edge of her mask.

“Yes, I–well, I’d like to discuss what happened during our moment in The Weave the other evening.” Gale clarified, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“You mean the moment when I showed you how easy doing magic is?” Taph retorted sassily, grinning. At least Gale could see her smile, if he couldn’t see the rest of her face. Her smile was truly lovely. Gale rolled his eyes, grinning.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m referring to, not the other thing that happened,” He replied drily, stepping closer to her. Gale scanned what he could see of her face, desperately trying to peer through the semi-opaque mask to try and read her facial expression. “No, I’d like to discuss– oh hells, fuck it. Would you be so kind as to remove your mask, Taph? I’d like to be able to look at you properly while we engage in this conversation.”

Taph immediately stiffened and stepped backward, negating the closeness Gale created by stepping towards her, as though they were stuck in a dance. Though, perhaps, Gale supposed, they kind of were? “Why?” She bristled.

Gale stared at her for a moment, his jaw slack. “...because I want to be able to look you into your eyes?” He answered incredulously. What the hells did she mean “why?”

Taph took another step back from him, and Gale did not need to be able to see her whole face to know that the sorceress was looking around frantically for an exit strategy, the movements of her head were enough to know that. “What, so you can tease me about them while also reminding me of the wildly embarrassing moment I forgot myself and let you peer into my mind?”

She was defensive, and Gale honestly had no idea why. He knew most people didn’t particularly care for the drow as a whole, but he didn’t think he’d ever done anything to give Taph the impression that he was one of those people? If anything, Gale was grateful she was a drow– it made getting in and out of that Goblin camp so much easier, because the goblins simply bowed and let her through, no undue violence necessary. “I’m– I’m not going to make fun of you, Taph,” Gale reassured her, his tone gentler than before. “And for the record, I don’t know why you’re embarrassed. I’m embarrassed.” He admitted.

Taph’s shoulders relaxed, and she took a step closer to Gale. “What do you have to be embarrassed about?” She asked, and he took another step towards her in return. Once Gale was certain that she was not liable to flee, he reached for her mask with both of his hands. “May I? Please?”

Taph chewed on her lip hesitantly, but eventually, she nodded. Gale reached for the black fabric, delicately taking hold of the edges with his fingers as he pushed it upwards to reveal Taph’s entire face. Her eyes were closed, but even so, she was even more beautiful without the mask than Gale already found her to be. “Open your eyes, Taph.” He requested softly, and the drow did as she was told.

Immediately, Gale was taken aback by how pretty her eyes were. Taph had been the only one of them to be brave enough to let Volo dig around in her head, and her reward had been a new, magical eyeball that gave her the ability to see through invisibility spells (something that quickly became the most helpful spell any of them knew). The color of her new eye from Volo suited her, and the heterochromic effect it made with her natural eye complimented her face so well. Then there was the color of the eye she was born with. It was ice-blue, almost white, and it was radiant. “Forgive me if this is too forward, but I don’t quite understand why you hide your face from the world. It’s quite beautiful,” Gale confessed adoringly, a soft smile appearing on his face. “Especially your eyes. A man would be lucky to someday have children with eyes as beautiful as yours.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them, and heat bloomed on his face in the firelight. “I–well, you know what I mean. You shouldn’t hide them away.” Though he could picture it: a little girl running around with his chestnut hair and her ice-blue eyes. She’d be the loveliest person to ever exist, after her mother.

Taph’s eyes softened, and Gods, what a difference being able to see them made to reading her body language. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but most people don’t exactly look upon the drow kindly,” She said sarcastically, because of course Gale had noticed. He’d witnessed random strangers treat her with blatant racism just for existing. Even told off a few of them for doing so. “Hiding them makes it easier for people to just assume I’m an elf. Which makes…everything else easier.”

Gale reached forward and tucked a piece of stray hair that had fallen from her long braid behind Taph’s ear. “You should never hide who you are. Not when you’re hiding some of the very best parts of you. The opinions of others will matter very little, in the end.”

Taph blushed, and Gale’s heart did a backflip, but it did give him the courage to say what he needed to say next. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted to the vision you showed me in The Weave. I realize that it may have left you thinking that the idea of sharing a romantic gesture with you is not something I reciprocate, when in truth, it’s quite the opposite. That…that is something I would like very much.”

Taph stared at him in surprise, almost as if she could not believe this was not some sort of elaborate joke. “You– you would?”

“I would, and I look forward to the day we get to have that moment,” He smiled, nodding at Taph, his hands falling back to his sides. “If you’ll have me, of course.”

An easy silence filled the air as the two of them stared at each other. Then, without any sort of ceremony, Taph reached forward and slipped her hand into Gale's, lacing their fingers together. The sorceress offered his hand a light squeeze. “I’d like that.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale #bg3 fanfic #female tav #gale x tav #gale x ofc #bg3 fluff #gale dekarios fluff

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nostalgiachan · 2 months

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Menzoberranzan Honeymoon

Sixth Prompt: Vier gets angry, why?

Mildly NSFW

Summary: Someone decided to write an incredibly obscene chapbook about Vier and Astarion, and one of them's less thrilled about it than the other (855 words)

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The chapbook landed on the drawing room table before Astarion with a much louder thud than one would expect, breaking him from an almost meditative trance. As he looked up from his embroidery, he saw Vier on the other side of the table, a look of pure annoyance he’d scarcely seen before twisting her face.

“Whatever this is, I assure you I had nothing to do with it,” he preemptively apologized, though Vier quickly allayed his concern.

“Dear, you wouldn’t happen to be familiar with one Valhalaeria the Vaunted, would you?” she asked, her arms crossing over her chest. “Because I’d very much like to have a conversation with her.”

Astarion set aside his needlework and picked up the book, giving the outside a quick once-over. “Valhalaeria the…OH, now that I think of it, yes, I’ve heard of her. Popular smut author, yes? I think I’ve seen her work being read in a flophouse or two.” Vier certainly needn’t know that more than a few of Astarion’s most successful pick-up lines had been authored by this Valhalaeria. “But I can’t say I’m personally familiar with her. If I remember the rumors correctly, she works out of Waterdeep, and I haven’t been in that neck of the woods since…Oh dear, have I ever?”

His thought trailed off, but he quickly snapped back to attention. “I bet Gale’s intimately familiar with these, though,” he said with a smirk. He flipped the book back to the frontside, taking a look at the artwork printed on the cover - a linework drawing of two elves, each holding one another with arm and leash both, clothing halfway to sliding off entirely. As he looked closer, a few details about the lovers caught his eye; the female elf was rendered with very heavy cross-hatching, clearly intended to be a Drow, while the male elf had a rather magnificent head of hair, each curl and sweep lovingly drawn. Above the drawing, printed in large letters: Menzoberranzan Honeymoon.

Astarion finally looked up from the book. “Is this…us?” he asked in disbelief.

“It’s someone’s sick idea of us, yes,” Vier spat in response. “Someone from the village sent this my way, said they’d picked it up on a trip to Baldur’s Gate. Apparently, someone’s been having fantasies about what you and I have gotten up to in the last year and decided to make a few copper off of it.” “And she didn’t even have the decency of asking us first?” Astarion huffed. “I could’ve told her all sorts of stories! Bet the old miser just didn’t want to give up any royalties.”

Vier pinched the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb. Leave it to Astarion to have some unique priorities. “I’m much more concerned with the fact that people might pick this up and not understand it’s fiction,” she sighed heavily.

“Oh, come now, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Astarion chided, “Why, I don’t think anyone would think you would, erm…” He quickly rifled through the pages until something caught his eye. “...couple with a drider?” The look in his eye made it clear to Vier that he’d immediately started wondering about whether she actually would. He flipped through a few more pages. “Oh, no, I absolutely know you’d do that,” he couldn’t help but purr. “Enthusiastically, too. Hmm, I might actually have to read this in earnest later. What’s it about?”

“We get married,” Vier explained, and Astarion nearly snorted at the word, “and I decide we should honeymoon in my home city of Menzoberranzan, where we get up to just about everything surface worlders think happens there. First: I wasn’t born in Menzoberranzan. Second: I’ve never been to Menzoberranzan. Third: I would never in my sane mind recommend anyone go to Menzoberranzan unless they desire death, enslavement, or both.”

As Astarion rifled through the pages, he still didn’t feel as though there was anything to get too upset about. It was fairly bog standard, albeit well-written, Drow-based obscenity, with a little vampiric spice mixed in. Perhaps Vier wasn’t thrilled with being written as a raging sex fiend who could outpace a succubus, but surely no one would take the wrong idea of her from this. But then, he found the page where “Vier” had to pass “Astarion” off as her slave in order to get him into the city at all…and he committed to his role deeply, so much that he’s quite happy to be passed around among the matriarchs and–

The chapbook was flung across the room with incredible force. “You know what, darling?” Astarion asked, his affect flat. “I think I get the issue now. What say you and I make a little trip to Waterdeep and see if we can’t pay this Valhalaeria a visit, hmm?”

“Purely friendly, of course,” Vier answered, visions of maces imbued with the power of the sun dancing in her head. “Nothing hostile, nothing untoward. Just a friendly request that she write smut of a more sanctioned kind. Absolutely.”

At that moment, somewhere on the highways and byways of Faerûn, a sickly shudder coursed down Volothamp Geddarm’s spine. Danger was coming.

#my writing #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion #vier alurlssrin #drow tav #cleric tav

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plotpromptdump · 7 months

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BG Bard Layla backstory

“Elaylan? By the Spider Queen, what are you doing here? Who are these people you are with?”

Layla lazily turned toward the male drow of the passing group. Her face a mask of serenity, as she sent out a quick image of an alarm to her companions through the tadpole, with a quick plea for them to look at the ground.

“Ah, Lorenzel. It has been far too long. Up to no good, I'm sure. As for what Im doing and who I'm with... I wonder who you are to question me? Remember your place.”

“Apologies. You just disappeared after Mother announced our engagement… everyone thought you were dead. It had looked like you were attacked.” His eyes narrowed. “It seems that it was all a trick."

Astarion felt... something at the mention of engagement. A sharp ache. Though it made little sense. He decided to push it away and just listen to the conversation, willing to jump in if Layla needed it.

“It was the first step of a test by Loth. One I am still aiming to complete. One that needs to be completed before I am to join your house. Oh. Don't tell me you are married already? I would hate to have to add murdering your wife to my list.”

“Mother has not heard of any test…”

“Why would our Goddess inform others of my task? If I am hunted and fail to keep myself alive then Ive failed the test. Simple. Now, if you have had enough of questioning me, what are YOU doing here? I'm surprised your matriarch would send you for a surface mission. I would be an idiot to refuse to admit that you are a valuable asset to your house.”

One of the female drow stepped forward. “I believe I would like to question you more."

"I don't believe I need to answer you. And surely it was just a mistake that you would demand answers from someone without first introducing your name and house. I have full confidence you did not intent to treat me as a shebali." Layla let out a twinkling laugh. "So much disrespect in such a short time. I really rather not be forced to impart manners. I am loathe to dirty my robes, though I suppose it will be quite a statement to the next person who decides to interrupt my day."

The drow female took a step forward, her hand on a whip looking ready for a fight. "Don't worry little one. My time of taking you seriously will not be happening any time soon," Layla said, the sound of a strum cord ringing through the air, a sign of a spell cast.

The drow faltered and Layla took the opportunity to grab her by the chin.

"Leave. My. Sight."

The drow smacked her hand away and stormed off, beckoning her party to follow. Leaving Layla the winner of the spat. Astarion saw the one called Lorenzel hesitate for a moment before falling in with the rest.When they were far enough away, Layla offered each of them an apology, brushing it off as drow politics and they continued their outing. Though Astarion's mind went over the sequences again and again until they returned to camp.

~~~~

“Why haven't you ever mention you were engaged? You certainly are not the first betrothed woman I seduced but you would think it would have come up… at some point…”

Layla reached for Astarion’s hand. His fingers flinched at the contact but he didn't pull away.

“I ran away from it and the underdark, going so far as to fake my death. Do you blame me for believing it was a non issue?”

Astarion bristled. While the answer did make sense, it struck him how little he knew of Layla outside of conversations about their current predicament. Which was fine when he only was with her to protect himself, but things were different now. They had that talk right? They might not be in something as silly as LOVE but there was something there.

“I suppose not. Though you having to fake your death seems a little… extreme. He wasn't THAT ugly.”

The laugh Layla let out made Astarion's ears tickle.

"Well, I suppose not. But he can't hold a candle to you." Layla's smile dimmed, as she took on a more contemplative look. "Do you want to hear about it? I'm sure the whole story will bore you. You have already heard the twist to the story."

"Every story you tell is riveting. Don't sell yourself short. Which is why you are the only bard allowed to tell my story, for sure."

The fingers holding his gave a soft squeeze. And with a light tug he followed her away from the camp. They settled on a fallen log sitting side by side. Layla intertwined their fingers as she seemed to be gathering her thoughts.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Astarion started, fearing that he may have dredged up unpleasant memories for her. Fates knew he had plenty of those he would rather never come to light."No, its just... been a while since I thought about my childhood. Only gathering my thoughts," Layla said, a gentle smile on her face. "But thank you for caring. I always appreciate your care."

Layla turned her face to the sky, and began her tale...

"Our story begins in the Underdark city of Menzoberranzan. A female drow was born to a once fallen noble house in the midst of its rise back to power after a mishap by a something great grand Matriarch. She was one of five, two older sisters, an older brother and a younger brother. Elaylan was what her parents named her.

Out of her siblings, well the ones that mattered, Elayan had potential, but not the drive to fight for the matriarch position of their family. If you asked, it was because she respected her eldest sister's abilities. Though she more likely didn't see the point in joining a decades long struggle and would much rather be treated with adoration than disdain. You see from a young age, Elaylan was told how charming she was. And as she grew, she learned how to use that charm to get whatever she wanted.

Of course she knew how to play the game, to fight, and to go for the throat, as was expected of her in the Spider Queen's society. But why threaten and have someone try to one up you when instead you can have their assistance willingly? Even at a detriment to themselves.

One of the things Elaylan loved more than anything was stories. She loved gathering them and telling them. And as she reached an age where she was expected to contribute to the family, she began gathering secrets. For what were other people's secrets rather than harder to find stories? So she threw herself into her second favorite thing, music. She had witnessed how loose lipped people became at parties and realized she had a unique opportunity to leverage her interests, her position in her family, and her reputation. Elaylan became a bard.

She started honing her craft in Bregan D’aerthe. Disguising her origin, playing at seedy taverns and passing on information gleaned from bar patrons to bolster her family. Elaylan continued this until she after she made her official family debut after her blooding. After which she would perform at events at other lower noble houses, gaining more notoriety for her family. Drow bards were not prevalent considering what their society was built on, especially not well bred ones. And even more rare was one with a custom crafted string instrument.She had painstakingly fostered a reputation for not being a threat while simultaneously making sure she wasn’t someone to be walked over. She never wanted to grow her status. She only wanted to survive in a modicum of comfort. Maybe deep down she always felt like something was wrong with her life. Something wrong with her world. But how else was the world supposed to work if not with thinly veiled threats and a painful death if you proved unworthy?

Elaylan eventually caught the attention of a upper noble family. The matriarch offering to be her patron. A tentative ally-ship between the families if one wanted to look at it with hope, but more realistically a hostage situation where neither side cared about the hostage past what they could get them.

Elaylan would play almost exclusively for this family for a few decades. Privately, for small parties, or large soirees. She played her role well. She sneered as she was supposed to when the dancers would stumble. She would laugh as she was supposed to when someone failed the Calling in front of her. She would punish non-drow harshly as she should for mistakes that would inconvenience her. Allowing her family to climb the ranks using the bridge she built. She played her role correctly, the lines blurring between what was pretended and who she really was constantly. Ignoring the suffocation that would try to overtake her at the end of every day.

One thing Elaylan never stopped doing was collecting stories. The ones she treasured most were from passed from the surface drow to the merchants. And the more she learned, the more she hated her home and hated the spider queen for what she did to her people. Hated this never ending cycle of abuse. Hated seeing beings treated like their lives meant nothing. But she had no delusions of toppling a society. No aspirations of being a leader. She was no hero. She was no Drizzt. So as long as she could continue her current role, that would be enough.

So of course her patron matriarch would suggest a more permanent alliance between their families. Elaylan and her family had proved useful and her son, Lorenzel, would need a suitable partner who would not try to over play her hand after she married in. It was a beautiful engagement ceremony. Everything in it's proper place. Elaylan only had to play a single piece at the party. She accepted all the polite congratulations and accolades with a bright smile. And when it was over, Elaylan went home, used a scroll of silence, and sobbed for hours. She could survive in that family as an outsider. One who could go home and stop the game of pretend for a while. But marrying in? Sharing a bed with the matriarch's most accomplished son? It was a death sentence. A house filled to the brim with Loth priestess eager to exert the Spider Queen's power at the slightest provocation. Elayna knew she was not charming or clever enough to keep up the charade endlessly. It would all come to a painful end. Killed to suit the Spider Queen's whims. But she knew there was no other choice so she wept until there were no more tears. And then she went to bed.

That night she had her first dream. She was wandering through the underdark, following a voice, until she saw a new light on the ground. One not like any flora or handmade light source she had seen in her life. When she followed the light to its origin she was in awe. It was the moon, shining through a large fissure above. Elaylan had seen the moon depicted in books but she never imagined it to be so bright. And dancing in the moonlight was a drow woman. That was the night Eilistraee offered her a way out. Elaylan didn't care if it was a test from Loth. She decided she would rather take her chances with an uncertain fate than to go down the aisle to the certain one.

Over the next few weeks Elaylan read through all her blasphemous books, burning them as she finished them. She might not have what is considered love for her family but she didn't want to bring them more trouble than she already knew she was. Their dynamic had worked well to allow her the creation of her persona.

On her last night she played for them. It wasn't much in the way of parting gifts, but she wanted to leave them with a pleasant memory.

Elaylan followed the instructions she was given, grateful the goddess had been willing to give her the opportunity to fake her death by leading her into a fight on her way out. It wasn't an easy fight but that was ok. She didn't want easy, she wanted to be thorough in throwing anyone looking for her off of her trail. After the enemies were slain, Elaylan pulled out her instrument one last time. She thanked it for all its hard work and apologized to it, plucking the strings one last time before she destroyed it and left it among the carnage. She only looked back once as she left her life and all that she knew behind, but she never wavered. She would not die as some pawn for Loth. She would live and die on her own terms. And if Eilistraee kept to her word, and she made it to the surface, Elaylan might be willing to see if their terms aligned."

Layla took a deep breath.“I'm not naive, Astarion," she said, making eye contact with Astarion causing him to wince, remembering the conversation they had a while ago, "Life has never given me that chance. But I want to trust. I want to believe there is an abundance of good in the world. And when I can, put my own good into it, to atone for the evils I, myself, have committed.

"If you asked me before to honestly answer if I trusted any of you, I would have said that I trust you all to have your own goals you want to see achieved. And as long as the overarching goals were the same, I could trust you all to have my back and keep me alive. None of you are exactly cut out to be a face."

Astarion snorted at that.

"Now though, I do think we all have a connection that goes deeper than ridding ourselves of the tadpoles. And I am grateful. I haven't made a lot of friends in my life. I'm usually more of a friendly acquaintance. Because as much as I do want to trust, I know what it is to put your faith in something and have it try to destroy you." "Why haven't you mentioned any of this before?"

Layla had a genuine look of confusion at the question."Besides Wyll, I'm pretty sure I have the least tragic back story. Why would I complain? The setting was stressful to be sure but..."

Astarion cut her off pulling her into a tight hug. He wasn't quite sure if this was the correct thing to do. But ever since the time Layla had hugged Karlach when the later had cooled, hugs from Layla had become a constant occurrence in the camp. Astarion had thought it was like a child with a new toy, but he hadn’t imagined how close he was to the truth until now. That the too-kind-for-her-own-good woman he had come to care about had probably had about as many positive instances of touch outside of intimate situations as he had. And that thought hurt him. A soft thanks reached his ears as Layla hugged back.

"I obviously take home the prize for the most fucked up past in this camp, but your life was fucked up too. I'm here to... listen... if you want to talk again. It's the least I can do. Also it's dumb you barely changed your name when trying to run away," Astarion said softly.

"I would like that and that's rich coming from the man who didn't change his name at all."

Astarion could sense the gears turning in Layla's head.

"Astarion, I'm sorry the god's never answered you. You deserved better."

He didn't answer back, just opting to squeeze a tighter. Though deep down, he was glad they at least helped her.

#my writing #bg tav #astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #bard tav #tumblr killed my formatting and im lazy

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bledmagic · 3 years

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**the following is no way indicative of direct rp interactions & is solely referring to the personal canon to idrylla. if your muse wants to refer to the closeness of one of the companions listed here by all means, unless you are holding another rper muse in mind as that connection is different & not based upon these by the interactions idrylla & that muse has had. however if you would like to base interactions on these descriptions with your muse def lemme kno & we can plot on this further !

idrylla is not the only focus of the story, they are one of many that line the cast of our main tale & the interactions between idrylla & these characters drive the story forward or back. as the game still rests within the area of early access & there are hints from datamining of future companions this list is not complete nor is it going to contain anything proper beyond act 1 in terms of connections. with the previous statement said, here is each of our companions & the relationships held with idrylla as per the canon to their character & me. **i will note if i have romanced a npc like this, as the game is in early access n just like in who’s line is it anyway the choices n points dont matter there is no canon romance for idrylla at this moment in time.

LAE’ZEL: idrylla has very few memories of the nautilus. their capture, their containment, & the escape itself is somewhat of a blurry mess. what they do remember is lae’zel. they remember her face, her struggling, her escaping that pod. they saw the moment the mind flayer infected lae’zel & the fear held within the githyanki’s features. all of this is unspoken between the two, but for idrylla it’s spurned a lot of emotions that have boiled down to pushing idrylla to get close to lae’zel & be quite defensive of her with strangers( shadowheart can make a few insults as a treat, lae’zel in return can make some serious threats in return as a treat ). it is with the first weeks of travel idrylla can be found hanging out along side lae’zel like a safety net, finding the familiarity of their escape as a bridge to base a friendship upon. despite that link that idrylla has tied between them they find lae’zel absolutely delightful in every way possible & considers lae’zel probably the closest friend idrylla has had in years, the honesty lae’zel shows in the most blunt way a refreshing change from the passive aggressiveness of the wizards guild peers. beyond all this, lae’zel is also the first githyanki has ever known & has prodded the poor warrior with a multitude of questions to absorb the info like a weird elf sponge, even going out of their way to learn on their own & ask lae’zel about later on. idrylla holds lae’zel’s opinon in high regard & often will ask her or look to her for her advice & even if not followed takes it in consideration. anyways they are best friends. ( lae’zel: we are not ‘friends’ / idrylla: you’re right. we are best friends, pal. / lae’zel: tch. ) **lae’zel has been romanced

SHADOWHEART: while idrylla did try to save shadowheart from her pod, idrylla also has particularly failed at every turn to get shadowheart to even attempt to trust them. traditionally anyway. since the common ground of the parasite & needing to team up & trust each other has failed to get shadowheart to loosen up, idrylla has taken the approach to just be a utter nuisance to shadowheart. often chiding the other with jokes or teases, stirring up trouble between shadowheart & lae’zel, forcing shadowheart to go talk to people at parties( notable example is when idryl forced shadowheart to dance with them at the big fun tiefling celebration party in which shadowheart was so emabrassed she probs would have died on the spot if she wasnt actually having fun the whole time ), etc etc. shadowheart stresses idrylla out, so tightly wounded & clearly bothered by something that is clearly at times more dire than the worm in their brain. it activates idrylla’s older sibling mode near instantly as often the fussing of the other reminds idrylla very warmly of their younger siblings, one being very similar to the uptight cleric. when shadowheart does breakdown some of those walls & reveals her religious beliefs idrylla presents themselves as very accepting. while agnostic themselves, they do make a point to show they hold no ill will to shadowheart & support them, but more importantly wants shadowheart to learn to rely on them from then on to be more honest about anything. it’s after this shadowheart tends to be less antagonistic toward idrylla. but only a little less.

WYLL: idrylla noted early on that the “”””stone”””” that rests in his socket has a heartshaped looking pupil & annoyingly( to everyone except wyll himself ) calls him hearteye. as a baldurian they are very well versed in knowing the various tales & stories of the blade of frontiers. wyll is idrylla’s favorite drinking companion & the two get along like a pair of bros in a budding bromance that will make the fans go crazy. wyll holds a hard sense of justice that idrylla tends to think of a buzzkill at times, but does value the pull of morality his chiding holds considering her own moral standing at current is fuzzy at best. she does truly worry about how skiddish he tends to be about his guarded secrets & once learning upon the truth they promise to aid them in his quest to save his ‘totally not devil girlfriend’ & when wyll protests about such a title idryl simply responses ‘oh no i totally get it, hearteye.’ with a laugh & wink. idrylla also has wyll teach them the use of the blade, taking those teachings & applying them to their learnings of the staff as a weapon vs a channel for magic. often one can see them sparing in camp on down time. wyll is also the only one of the companions who gave idrylla a proper condolence when idrylla’s less than tragic backstory is revealed to the the companions, to which idrylla who was properly touched thanked him with a hand to their heart & a ‘aww, thanks man. you’re a real one.’

ASTARION: idrylla is far softer on astarion than they should be & they will deny it. usually such a judgement of letting astarion getting away with ( in most cases, literally ) murder is preceded by a loud groan or sigh. it’s not that idrylla wants to dull astarion’s sparkle, but more of a general worry. the more idrylla learns of him, the more & more they just feel bad( astarion: i rather be spared of pity, thanks / idryl: it’s not pity. i don’t pity you its just. well hearing that shit that happened to you ? makes me sick, man. horrible things to go through. makes me want to hit something. ). but the primary worry is what will happened to their newfound friend once the parasite is extracted, will astarion burn up in the sun ? prevented from hanging out with them at bars ? will they not be able to find something for him to eat on the journey they set on ? idrylla has no real way to comfort astarion in the face of his past & it makes them uncomfortable. all that can be offered is a arm about his shoulder & a ear to listen. beyond all this, however, the two get along disturbingly well. idrylla’s current fuzzy moral standing & general pull to do really stupid things setting a stage for the two of them to act in their own chaotic fashion. the two make comments with each other that would make people wonder if they share a braincell. idrylla often pulls lae’zel into their shenanigans much to her dismay. the fact that astarion is a vampire spawn has absolutely zero negative effect or reaction from idrylla. **astarion has been romanced

GALE: i hate these two. considering gale being a wizard busybody i have to do the most divergent shit with this mf. love this catdad, anyways here go. gale & idrylla absolutely know of each other prior to the events of the game & have a loving rivalry friendship thing going on. they have met a few times due to the wizarding guild( take in mind, this wizard guild is something im developing for idrylla & is not canonical to the game ) of which gale would visit, but is not apart of, due to his associations. the two never had a proper moment of conversation prior but are as i said, very aware of each other at least in terms of their talents in magic. so whilst there is a pre-established link between them they are without a doubt strangers. their rivalry comes out at any time magic is spoken about or knowledge thereof. a interesting change in demeanor for idrylla who, for all intents & purposes before & during the events, tended to not have a proper ambitious or know-it-all bone in their body. the two will often agree about magic or purposely disagree. they speak of other wizards & generally are capable of working together to figure out spells or something magical in puzzles. when gale says that idrylla knows nothing about the weave, it took everything in idrylla to not set him on fire. when faced with the truth about gale’s utterly stupid need to consume magic & the reason behind it, idrylla simply just starts smacking him on the arm & calling him an idiot( considering idrylla’s recent expulsion from the wizarding guild spurred on by peers that are power hungry & would do whatever they could to get ahead, the ordeal of gale sits very heavy on idrylla. while they does apologize later & explains the why. ). over time the two have gotten less antagonistic to each other & more or less bicker for the fun of it, showing that the two have found themselves more or less comfortable with each other & in their aventures found respect in each other’s talents. so far anyway. idrylla has threatened to steal gale’s cat( in jest to make gale wig out. )

#( meta / lore. )#( we do not reblog my bullshit. )#IT IS HERE I HAVE DONE THE THING

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