#Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

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Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

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Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

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Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

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Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

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Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

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“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

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Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

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Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning 

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

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Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

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Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Prologue - 1 to 3 #fic snippet #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (1 of ?) #pictures sourced from various sources #Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Routes both have same prologue (1 of ?) #Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #additional tags to be added #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight' #Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

[bearhugsandshrugs]

Glory Hole Fic – Gortash x Tav

Oh yeah I'm hitting you with the slutty hand gif. Now go and read the fic under the cut.

E | 2.5k words | Chapter 1/2 | Gortash x Tav | AO3 Link

“Go ahead, make yourself comfortable. I’ll go around and help you get settled on the other side. If there’s anything you need, ring that bell.” Tav’s eyes fell on a copper bell with a string just in arm’s reach from the soft bed she’d be lying on. She nodded towards the matron.  “Thanks.” 

This would be exciting. After making her way to Baldur’s Gate with the strange set of companions she’d collected – of whom a surprising amount had wanted to sleep with her, much to her dismay as she was trying to keep it professional – she had finally found a brothel that was so well hidden, only the most exclusive and most knowledgeable of clients would find their way there. Over the past weeks Tav had been burning up with need. It had been hard turning down Lae’zel, then Astarion, and finally Halsin, and her sessions with herself were far from enough to clear her mind from the constant influx of images her mind would torture her with. So. She had decided to call in some favors and get herself fucked in the establishment that called itself “Wholesome”. 

The word play was a little cringey, but the place was not. At any given time, there were only three rooms accepting clients, each of them divided into two parts so clients and workers wouldn’t see each other. On her side, Tav had a comfortable bed for her upper body, a carafe with water, and towels to clean herself up. On the client's side was a side table with lube, massage oil, toys, and of course towels and water too, plus alcoholic beverages of their choice. Both sides were hidden from view from each other by a wall with a hole on hip-level, through which Tav now positioned her lower body. The matron was already waiting for her on the other side, guiding her legs into holders made of leather that were suspended from the ceiling and could be adjusted by the customers however they wanted.  Her ass was lying on a more practical extension of the bed made out of hardwood – sturdier and easier to clean. Being spread open like this, naked and depending on the whim of whoever was on the other side, was already turning her on. She couldn’t wait to get started. The matron pulled at the cord that tightened a dark cotton curtain around her hips, an extra precaution so the privacy for both sides was being kept. Rumor had it in select circles that some bored noble women and men went to Wholesome to get fucked or fuck, anonymously and with no one the wiser, and the secrecy was crucial to the brothel’s existence.  

Tav heard the matron leave, and after a few moments she could make out a conversation outside her room.  “I have something special for you today”, she heard her say. “It’s her first time.” The voice of the man was dismissive. “I don’t like virgins. You know that.” “Oh, she’s not a virgin. But it’s her first time selling her body.” There was a pause, and Tav felt her heartbeat quicken. If he decided to choose her, he’d come in any time now. The anticipation sent a short burst of heat to her core.  Instead of a reply, the door on the other side opened, then closed, as strong footsteps strolled into the room. There were sounds of fabric shuffling, then a glass being filled and, after a brief moment, being set down. 

Suddenly, a hand was on her left foot: warm and strong. Tav flinched instinctively, surprised by the unexpected touch, earning her a low chuckle from the other side.  “So”, the voice she’d heard earlier began, “You want to get fucked like a whore?” Her lips trembled as she fought a reply. She wasn’t allowed to talk, not on her side. He knew that, of course. The clients could say whatever they wanted – they had absolute power, while the only sounds that were allowed out of her mouth were sounds of pleasure – or pain.  Tav wasn’t going to ruin her chances of doing this again within the first minutes. So she kept quiet.  “Studied before coming here, I see”, the voice mocked, running his hand along her leg and up her thigh. Oh, he was full of himself. She wanted to kick his face, but her leg was held firmly in place. On the other side, there was a chuckle, obviously loving her reaction. But there was something else, tugging at the back of her mind: Where did she know that voice from…

A slap against her cunt pulled her back to reality as her mouth yelped in shock. 

“Ah, nice to meet you”, the voice laughed, bringing both hands to the insides of her thighs, scratching all the way down to her knees. The pain was delicious.  Tav took a sharp breath in as the man dug his nails into her skin again and again, leaving her thighs sensitive to even the slightest touch. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of whimpering, having understood almost immediately that this was a game to him. When she didn’t let out the desired sounds, he pinched her so hard she cried out. 

He laughed, voice smooth and low, then dipped two fingers to her entrance.  “Wet already”, he murmured, almost as if to himself, spreading her slick between her folds. Tav sighed. Yes. She was wet. She couldn’t wait to have him inside of her. The way he teased her, mocked her, promised great things to come.  The man on the other side pulled his hand away as she heard him fumble with his clothes. She felt him line himself up against her, then seemingly change his mind as he dragged the tip of his cock across her folds in slow, deliberate motions.  “Say please”, he demanded, voice low. He knew she couldn’t do that. But her hips bucked against him, a wordless plea, that wasn’t quite enough for him. Another slap, this time precisely against her clit, made her gasp. “Come now”, the man continued, “You can do better than that.”  Where did she know that voice from–

The next slap was even harder and immediately followed by two more, and he finally dragged out the whimpers from her mouth that Tav had refused to let him have. He chuckled, satisfied, then pushed himself inside of her without further notice until he was completely buried in her cunt. “Ahhh”, he sighed, pulling out slowly before shoving back in with force. “What a tight little cunt you have.” Tav moaned at the sudden praise, clinging to his words as they gathered even more heat between her legs. There was a small laugh on the other side in response to her sounds, and he brought his hands to her hips, just behind the curtain, pulling her down on his cock while he started to fuck her in earnest.

The way he filled her up sent shivers down her spine. Tightening his grip on her, the stranger started to roll his hips, his cock rubbing against a spot that made her mewl. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he seemed to enjoy himself as well, his breathing growing heavier and heavier the longer he fucked her. Tav wanted to reach for him, wanted to run her fingers over his back, wanted to slap his arrogant mouth, but she was stuck on her side of the hole, clenching her fists in frustration.  “You like that?”, came the voice from the other side, and she groaned in response, not even caring anymore that she didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. “That’s what I thought.”  He... stopped. 

Tav felt like her body was on fire, and she wailed as she realized he had paused on purpose, interrupting her climb. On the other side, his fingers ran lazily over her thighs again, softly pressing against the reddened skin, still sensitive from his scratches.  “Me doing all the work does not seem particularly fair, does it?” Tav stared at the ceiling in confusion. Wasn’t this the point? “If you want to come on my cock, you need to earn it.” She swallowed down the reply that had already formed in her throat and instead just let out a shaky breath. He heard that. Of course. Chuckling he loosened the cord from the privacy curtain. What was he–

“Since it’s your first time as a whore, I’ll let you help yourself”, he said, his hand sliding underneath the curtain and beckoning towards her. “Don’t be shy now.” She knew the stranger wanted her to take his hand and let him pull hers to the other side, something that was allowed if both parties agreed, but she had an idea of her own. With a smirk she yanked his hand upwards, and he grabbed her waist for balance, as she brought his free hand to her breast. The sigh she heard from behind the curtain  was divine. Inside of her, his cock twitched against her walls as he squeezed her tit, hand full, rolling her nipple between his thumb and index finger until she moaned. Her hips bucked upwards on their own, and the scoff he let out was as sexy as it was venomous. He pinched her nipple so hard she cried out, then blindly slapped her breast, hitting her surprisingly (and painfully) well. His hand retreated behind the curtain while Tav gasped for air, trying to breathe away the pain that was flowing down from her breast to her core. 

“Oh, I like you”, the stranger said, bringing his fingers to her clit. “But believe me, you’ll do yourself a favor if you do as I say.” He started to squeeze, lightly at first, but increasing in pressure as Tav started to sob, trying to yank her hips away from him, but the leg holders kept her in place. It hurt. More than she wanted it to, so much so, that it wasn’t enjoyable anymore.  “Stop, you piece of shit”, she cried out hoarsely, breaking the house’s rule if he decided to tell on her, and she slid her hand through the curtain as he’d asked. Seeing her follow his request, the stranger broke off his assault on her clit.  “That sounded beautiful”, he murmured, his voice deep as it extended a peace offering, “and I shall forget it ever happened.”

Rolling his hips into her, he took her hand in his as he started fucking her again, an intimate gesture that was hotter than it had any right to be, especially in the middle of this brothel. Tav knew he wanted her to touch herself, but there was an unspoken agreement between them to give her a chance to recover, to reset from the pain. So she enjoyed him pounding into her, pushing his cock in and out while she tried to meet his thrusts with her hips. 

When the stranger decided enough time had passed, he stilled again, chuckling behind the curtain. 

“Ready, little whore?”

Ignoring his tease, Tav reached tenderly between her legs, trying to find a pace she enjoyed while knowing full well he was watching her get herself off. The man was humming with approval as she sighed, starting to fuck herself on his cock and her hands. Having less room for her to move her body meant she couldn’t get a lot of friction, her cunt clenching around his cock instead in desperation, trying to find those sweet spots again that he’d been hitting. No, she had to rely on working on herself with her fingers, rubbing her clit, while the stranger ran his hands up and down her legs and otherwise stood still. 

She knew her body well, of course. The past weeks had brought her more opportunities to distract herself at night, alone in her tent, than ever before, and it didn’t take her long to find that high she’d been chasing again. From the other side, the voice groaned as he watched her movements turn frantic. 

“Such a good whore”, he sighed, and Tav moaned at the praise. “I wish I could see your face, mouth hanging open while you get yourself off on me.” There were more whimpers from her, and the idea of him seeing her face, seeing her eyes half closed with lust, made her legs tremble. “Maybe next time I’ll fuck your mouth”, he cotinued, his needy tone sending sparks to her cunt, “Let you choke on my cock.” Tav gasped, she was close, and her hips had started to set their own rhythm against their static partner, that stranger, who’d come here to stand still and watch her bring herself to climax using his dick like a prop. 

“Fuck”, he groaned, apparently realizing she was about to come, and pulled out of her. Tav nearly cried at the loss of him inside of her, but instead his mouth was on her in an instant, his hand grabbing her wrist and stilling her fingers, while his tongue swirled around her clit. The sob she let out was guttural, and she bucked herself into his face, imagining she could ride him properly, without the wall dividing them. Her hand reached for his head, wanting to steer him, and she had to pull strands of hair aside to actually reach his forehead. Long hair, that had fallen into his eyes–

This time it was Tav who cursed out loud, realizing who this voice belonged to, understanding whose face she was just fucking, learning whose tongue was eating her out. As Lord Gortash’s image formed in the back of her mind, that thought pushed her over the edge. She moaned as her hips jerked into his mouth, his teeth slightly grazing over her sensitive skin as she came apart. When she was done, he licked a long streak from her entrance to her clit with the full width of his tongue, before standing back up. 

“Delicious”, he praised her, and now that she knew who he was, she couldn’t unhear it. How had she not realized–

Gortash started to pump his cock in his hand, the rubbing sounds unmistakable, and it took mere moments before he groaned, spilling his seed on her, the warm strings dripping down between her folds. “Fuck”, he moaned, his free hand still on her waist. “I think you’ve ruined me.”

Grateful for the house rules of not being allowed to talk, Tav stared at the ceiling and tried to gather her thoughts. Her breathing was still shallow and quickened, and her heart was beating in a rapid rhythm trying to process what had just happened. He didn’t know it was her, she realized. He couldn’t. There was no way–

She heard him clean himself up on the other side, then stroll back over to where she was lying. “I’d wipe my cum off you, but honestly, I think it suits you”, he said, voice low and full of mockery again. Tav’s mouth ran dry. “Goodbye.”

And with that, he was gone. 

#enver gortash #gortash x tav #prompt fills #bg3 smut #bg3 fic #my writing #drabbles

[underdark-dreams]

Incredibly excited to finally start releasing this into the wild!!

After my 2-part Rolan x Tav fic Good Night For Company, I really wanted to write a longer continuation of their story set in Act 3. And at last, here is the first chapter--multiple others planned! (With more romance soon to follow)

Note: this chapter explores darker themes than my usual work. I encourage you to check the AO3 tags if you have any doubts. They will be updated regularly 🖤

A Strand to Climb - Ch.1

Two very different heroes find themselves in Baldur's Gate at last. All Tav can think about is seeing a certain apprentice wizard again, but Rolan finds himself trying to push her away.

Tags: Angst, Physical Abuse, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 2,840 [Read on AO3]

Lorroakan liked to make Rolan wait. 

He was a man who enjoyed toying with people, and Rolan found himself the newest and current favorite toy in the archwizard’s collection. He tipped his head back to gaze up at the criss-crossing arches in the high ceiling of Ramazith’s Tower, trying to occupy his mind away from the fatigue pooling in the soles of his feet. 

Tonight’s lesson should have begun half an hour ago. He knew better than to move from his usual spot on the fine carpet, however.

Whatever Cal or Lia might think, Rolan was no blind idiot. 

He hadn't gotten this far in life without a bitter skepticism about human nature. He'd filed away every rumor he heard about Lorroakan on the road from Elturel, though he hadn’t given them any weight at the time.

The revelation that the man was even worse than what he'd heard was…a disappointment, to be sure. And a complication. 

But it did nothing to change his path or his determination to succeed. Apprenticeships with archwizards didn't drop out of the sky, even with ones as worthless and vapid as Lorroakan. Especially not to a student with Infernal blood.

And Rolan could be very patient when he put his mind to it. He’d waited many years to find himself standing here in Ramazith’s Tower, hadn’t he? He could survive another year or two as Lorroakan’s apprentice. 

Rolan gathered the thoughts around him like armor where he stood in the center of the cavernous room, awaiting the arrival of his master. 

As if on cue, the rushing portal sounded behind him as Lorroakan himself swept into the room.

“I understand my apprentice has been pawing through the merchandise.”

Entering rooms with a full sentence was another of Lorroakan’s favorite tactics. Though he expected it by now, Rolan still found himself thrown off balance by the words for a moment—no doubt their intended purpose. His mind raced to grasp what he was being accused of before he looked to his master.

Lorroakan stood on the step before him with lips drawn into the hint of a smile, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. The man was angry.

Rolan kept his voice calm and careful. “Master Lorroakan, I should have explained. Two of Aradin’s men managed to get past the guards several nights ago, raiding for valuables. It took some time to salvage the scrolls they damaged in the process.”

“I see. And as a result, you took it upon yourself to give Klank a little upgrade, did you?”

Performing magic in the shop outside of Lorroakan’s direct orders—a mistake. “Yes, Master,” Rolan replied reluctantly.

“How clever,” said Lorroakan above him. But he didn’t sound like he thought it was clever at all.

“I know what a nuisance they’ve been to you, Master Lorroakan.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy—”

As he spoke, Rolan felt a foreign presence prodding at the corners of his mind. There were few spells Lorroakan had demonstrated complete mastery of thus far—but the ritual for detecting thoughts was certainly among them. 

Rolan knew he would face a far worse punishment than whatever was coming if he resisted. Instead, fighting all his natural instincts, he let his mind’s defenses go slack.

Lorroakan’s consciousness pierced through his own, rough and careless. It rapidly shoved through his thoughts then withdrew just as abruptly. Rolan held back a wince of discomfort at the treatment.

His master’s eyes narrowed at him, that placid smile still on his lips. 

"On your knees," Lorroakan instructed silkily.

As his body obeyed in silence, Rolan felt churning bile and indignant pride rise in his throat. If Lorroakan hoped all these trials would break Rolan's spirit, he'd find they were having the opposite effect.

Lorroakan’s voice was dangerously even. "Although I’ve expressly forbidden it, you decided to avail yourself of a bit of private study from the scroll stock while you were at it. Outside my wishes."

Though Rolan kept his eyes down on the carpet below, he heard the rustle of Lorroakan’s robes as he began to circle him. Like a cat with a mouse.

“Forgive me, Master,” Rolan said down to the floor. “I only reviewed the spells you’ve seen fit to instruct me in.” 

A second mistake.

“Oh?” Lorroakan’s voice dripped with fresh venom. “And is my instruction insufficient?”

Yes. Completely fucking useless. “No, Master Lorroakan. I only know how short your time is with more important matters…locating the Nightsong. I hoped to perfect what you’ve taught me, to arrive better prepared for your lessons.”

Surely that was sufficient for his ego? Rolan dared to hope so as Lorroakan’s steps came to a halt in his periphery.

Without warning, the red wizard's palm connected with the soft dip of his temple.

Defenses still down from his earlier mental invasion, Rolan's body jerked sideways; he caught himself with sharp nails into the carpet. The blow rang deafening and shrill between his ears.

"—suffer insolence, boy," Lorroakan was warning somewhere above him as Rolan's hearing returned. "And put those filthy claws away. Are you a man or a beast?"

"Yes, Master," Rolan gasped, hardly knowing whether he should agree or say no. The pain in his skull overwhelmed his senses in a way that must have translated as meekness. 

Lorroakan sighed, the way one might at a dear but misbehaving pet.

"Young Rolan," he tutted. "Still so willful. So much yet to learn from my wealth of knowledge. And I am generous…"

As he spoke, his polished boots moved closer into Rolan’s downturned field of vision, and Rolan felt the archmage's soft fingers under his chin guiding his gaze upwards.

This was always the very worst part. Rolan would willingly take a dozen more blows if he could avoid what came after. 

Instead, he witnessed the gleam of satisfaction in Lorroakan's eyes as he examined his past weeks' handiwork on his apprentice's face—as if the sight brought him a deep pleasure that verged on carnal. Rolan's insides turned over in disgust.

"Yet even my favorite apprentice must be trained, must be disciplined." Lorroakan's words were silky soft, but his thumb and forefinger gripped into Rolan's chin with bruising force. "You'll stay to reorganize the abjuration wing tonight, alphabetically by subject."

Rolan nodded mutely, as much as Lorroakan's grip allowed. He had just finished reordering them all by title a few days ago. But what did it matter anymore?

At least his penance appeared to have cut the evening short. Lorroakan released him without a backwards glance. 

As the archmage swept away toward the portal to take his leave, Rolan got to his feet as slowly as he could manage. He ran hands down his robes, hoping the scuffs on his knees would come out with some careful spellwork. This was the only set he had.

By the time he raised his eyes to look around, Lorroakan was gone. One of the metal Myrmidons shuffled aimlessly near the railing, quite harmless without its master's direction. Lorroakan controlled them, but he hadn’t created them; Rolan had gathered that early. 

Alone again, Rolan let out a pent-up breath. Then he turned toward the towering case of books and scrolls on abjuration. 

He'd be able to touch them, he knew, but turning a single page would result in a painful rebuke. The nerves in his right hand smarted in memory of the first and last time he'd been stupid enough to try.

Of the vast wealth of texts contained in his tower—how many of their spines had Lorroakan actually cracked open? For an archmage, he was profoundly lacking in a desire for learning, among many other qualities. The wealth of this place was wasted on one like him.

A memory came back to Rolan from the Druid's Grove, a time and place that felt several lifetimes ago now. Gale, her erudite wizard, asking him to repeat Lorroakan's name. Making those insinuations that got Rolan's hackles up in defense for his new master—and for his own judgment. 

Rolan should have listened to the words from an older and clearly wiser mind.

Would it have changed anything in the end? He'd reverently carried Lorroakan's invitation with him all the way from Elturel. No matter what he heard, there was never a chance he might have walked away from the offer. 

But he might feel like less of a fool.

Hot shame rose in Rolan’s throat. If only Tav and her wizard could see him now, he thought bitterly. The fresh bruise forming at his temple throbbed as if to punctuate the idea. Rolan pushed up the sleeves of his robe and set to work.

—

Though it was only her first morning in Baldur’s Gate proper, Tav found that her list of urgent tasks had grown longer than ever.

There was the spate of gruesome murders, the rival thieves’ guilds warring in the underground, the freshly ordained archduke and his formidable army of Steel Watchers. Not to mention the little problem of a godlike Elder Brain that had begun to test its weakened chains. 

Tav had always thought of herself as a patient person. But these past few days, her companions all seemed to be tugging her in opposite directions. Everyone was irritable and on edge, herself included.

After Lae’zel and Astarion had nearly drawn on each other over the campfire last night—a row over what to do with the cambion’s latest offer of a deal—Tav snapped. She made the executive decision that they all needed a day away from each other to clear their heads.

Yet rather than pursue any of her many important leads, here she was loitering alone in front of the message board outside Basilisk Gate.

A good bit of it was taken up with Enver Gortash’s face, looking every bit the messiah he was definitely not. There were other notices: Flaming Fist enlistment posters, a few hand-written notes for missing persons. More likely unfortunate victims in the city’s recent murder spree. 

She found her eye uselessly searching for another name altogether. It was probably stupid—did wizards usually announce their new apprentices to the public?

Just as she’d made up her mind to move on, Lorroakan’s own name caught her eye. Tav tore the pamphlet down from the board.

‘Seeking Information About the Nightsong! Report Findings to Archwizard Lorroakan, Master of Ramazith’s Tower in the Upper City, Famed and Illustrious Mage of the Sword Coast.’

Unease bloomed in her stomach. What did an archwizard want with Dame Aylin? 

She turned the paper over, looking for anything besides vague details. Nothing on the notice said anything about capture or forcible delivery, but there was a reward printed in large type at the bottom of the page.

Her brows descended at the figure. Something about the size of it only increased her sense of foreboding.

Though she’d planned to make her way to Ramazith’s Tower to see Rolan as soon as she possibly could, perhaps now she had another reason to pay it a visit.

“Hey, Tav!”

She looked around at the sound of her name. Lia stood on the top step from the Basilisk Gate barracks, a slim scroll in her hand. She followed Tav's eyes to the parchment.

“Enlistment papers,” she explained, tucking them in her belt as she descended the stairs. “They’re no Hellriders, but it’s a decent job. Plus I heard some mad cult is planning to march an army down on our heads. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Lia added with a wry smile.

Somehow Tav was relieved to hear Lia could joke about it. It lightened some of the weariness in her own chest. She hastily pocketed the reward pamphlet—though she thought Lia’s eyes followed the motion. Then she rounded to return the smile.

“Gods, is it good to see a friend,” she admitted. “How are you, Lia?”

“You mean besides the constant threat of murder and war, and the stupid comments about my horns? Alright, considering,” Lia chuckled.

Tav felt a prickle of anger. She supposed that was a common experience for Tieflings, but that only made it worse somehow.

Lia caught her mood. “Don’t worry about it. We certainly don’t. Besides, it’s loads better here than it ever was back home.”

Tav moved the conversation along. She asked after Cal—trying to avoid immediately turning the subject to Rolan. Even though her heart ached to know how he was. Rolan and his siblings had taken the direct path from Moonrise to the Lower City, no doubt reaching it weeks before her own party had made their winding way toward the gates.

Lia was clever enough to realize what she was doing. Tav’s close relationship with Lia’s older brother was anything but a secret at this point, after all. But the younger woman played along politely for the moment.

When they were all out of other topics to catch up on, Tav did her best to sound as casual as possible. “How’s our brilliant apprentice getting along?”

Lia’s face changed at the question. Her brow flew into a scowl, and the muscle in her jaw tightened. 

“I don't talk to him about it anymore,” she snapped.

Tav blinked in surprise, but the feeling was quickly replaced by concern. “What is it?”

Lia looked around for a moment, as if worried someone might be listening to overhear. She moved down a few steps to stand with arms crossed beside Tav.

“Look…Rolan’s proud,” she said in a low voice. “You know that well as I do. He won't ever give me or Cal a straight answer about it. But Tav, seriously? I'm not sure he's been taught a damn thing yet. Rolan always gets upset when me or Cal come by the Sundries. Like he’s scared of someone seeing us there. And every time I’ve been in, Lorroakan’s got him working the stupid counter instead of studying. And his—”

Tav was hanging on every word by the time Lia abruptly cut herself off. The two of them shared a long look.

“I don't think he’s treating Rolan well,” Lia told her. Her nails dug into the fabric of her sleeves. “I know he isn't.”

“Not treating him well how?” The concern had grown to a snake of worry coiling through Tav’s insides. 

Lia’s hands continued fidgeting over her arms. She glanced away behind the curtain of her hair, as if regretting how much she'd said. 

“Listen, just—just go talk to Rolan. Please? You should hear it from him. If he won't listen to us, maybe he’ll listen to you. Don't think he could ever tell you no,” Lia added with a weak smile, an expression that was more pained than anything.

An ominous feeling swirled around in Tav’s brain, muddling the tail end of their conversation. Her head nodded along automatically as Lia gave an invitation to her and Cal’s flat in Heapside Strands, but her ears barely caught the street name. 

Once Lia had given her a quick one-armed hug and departed, Tav stood hardly knowing where she was. A Flaming Fist jostled past her shoulder from the barracks with a backwards comment about loitering in byways. 

She hardly heard the man. Her mind was filled with images of Rolan; proud, hopeful, excited for his future. Had this Lorroakan done something to spoil the dream he’d fought so hard to achieve?

As Tav’s hand brushed against the reward pamphlet in her pocket, the fingers there clenched into a fist. The other closed tight around the hilt of the longsword resting in her scabbard.

Whatever it was, something was wrong here. Very wrong. She was tempted to march straight into Sorcerous Sundries, find Rolan, and demand the truth out of him. And if he put on his stubborn act, she could think of a few very pleasant ways to get honest answers from his lips.

But what if he was somehow in danger from this archwizard?

That thought brought her up short. Lia’s voice before had held a hint of fear; not an emotion she’d know Lia to express lightly. Perhaps rushing into the situation blind would risk causing Rolan more harm than good.

Tav felt her pulse pound at the thought of putting him in danger. She let out a breath, trying to clear her head of the tangle of emotions. None of them would help her make a sound decision. As much as she might want to, she shouldn’t go racing off straight to Ramazith’s Tower.

And she shouldn’t go alone. If some kind of trouble was waiting there—increasingly likely when she considered Lorroakan’s cryptic interest in the Nightsong—she would need her companions with her. And they were currently spread out gods-knew-where across the city. 

Though her heart fought against it, the logical choice was clear. The wisest course would be to leave this for tomorrow.

In the morning, they would pay a visit to Ramazith’s Tower…and Tav would finally get the measure of this archwizard for herself.

#rolan x tav #cw: abuse #angst #tw: abuse #bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #mutual pining #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #tav x rolan #lorroakan is a bastard and he will be dead soon #sage and soldier

[benevolentcalamity]

I'm Quite Ten-tickled. [Mindflayer x Fem!Reader]

Cause I know a few people that would shout at me 'YOU NEED TO DO A MINDFLAYER' if they knew I existed. (That being about 1/4 of the Baldur's Gate fandom.)

Warning: This fic contains smut. I dunno if this equates to dubcon or what, but proceed with caution cause I have no idea what I'm doing.

There will be inaccuracies because I've only scanned a wiki and seen BG3 clips. Hopefully you guys still love me!

CURTAINS!

Come.

As though responding to the order tugging at your brain, the writhing tendrils part like a sentient curtain, before unwinding from around your arms. When the writhing prison at last gives way you're sent onto all fours, limbs limp from lack of use if only just to wriggle away from your tormentors. A cruel joke, this place, so wondrous and fascinating in its almost otherworldly structure... Yet, the moment you were pulled up by that grotesque tendril you regretted your brief study of them.

Was it a mistake, then? To push your brother out of the way even though he was the paladin? Surely he'd have laid waste to this ship by now - you simply doomed yourself to the fate he would have destroyed.

... It wasn't. At least this way he can go back to the church and mount a rescue. Not for you- alone, anyway. Everyone here that's still alive.

T'was the firelight outside that woke you to the siege. Buildings were being destroyed to kill the weak or scare the potential test subjects out into their range. You and your brother were two such folk - or to be more accurate he was the one. They always did look for the strong ones with 'potential', according to the horror stories of those that survived.

Did they know they were being researched? Or were they simply combing the continent for prey? ... Is this worth wondering if you're not sure whether tomorrow is what will be destroyed?

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"

A scream, unholy and thick with suffering, pulls your hairs on end, your feet fusing to the floor for just a moment. Your heart leaps into your throat, hands growing so cold they could sustain ice-based sorcery. With a deep breath heat slowly creeps back into your fingertips, and a harsh swallow commands your legs to keep moving as though nothing's wrong.

Again, the order: "Come to me."

For the guided it isn't a long walk, any passing faces blurred or forgotten, the near and distant screams falling mute. In fact, as you get closer, only the order - and in turn the Mindflayer responsible - remaining. You hardly feel how your back straightens like a stiff beam as you prepare to be obedient.

To the rhythm of the squirming sound in your head, his elation pulses with the order in repeat. That he will rise above, and command the shared mind of his kindred...

How do you...?

A dizziness takes over, wavering your steps a moment, as the flesh doors open. The moment that his mind reaches you, you're again steady, as though his hands themselves guide you in this moment.

"There you are."

Tendrils flexing and curling, he stands, and for a moment they reach toward you. Before long they echo the movement of his hand, beckoning you with a roll of the fingers. Watching you cross the squishy floor he hums, voice digging into your mind fully as his innate power wraps around your mind.

A break from this is visible solely in how there's a momentary hesitation in your hand reaching for a tentacle. That disgust fades in a blink, however, as momentary as he'd allow. Only he can feel that, if anything at all, in the turmoil that is his kind's heart. They have one, beating in only the Queen of their collective consciousness. All else is simply them following nature's grand design.

Impatient, a tentacle reaches and wraps around your neck, cueing you to simply shed your clothes. Without hesitation you follow the order, some stray tentacles wandering about your body as they pull you yet closer. Further imprisoning your mind where it should be, the rest of them wrap about your head, loosing your hair from the ribbons as his hand guides your legs apart.

Curiosity is shared between you two, the tadpole shivering in fervor as his cold gaze pierces your own.

"If yours is the body I require..." You're turned around and guided onto his lap, legs split and held up in the air. "Then through you, I'll hold the key to my ascension. So, rejoice now, for I will become the Absolute, and your womb will bear Illithid that will see my will enacted."

Clouded, you swallow. "... I will be... of service," You breathe. "My Emperor..." A thrall, yet your form hasn't changed - it's simply too sad to see tentacles spring from your flesh. Well and, you're appetizing simply in more ways than satisfying one's hunger.

Guided by his desires, your head tilts back with the opening of your mouth. Pleased, he allows a tentacle to slip inside, which you suck on as another wraps around your hand and holds it up so it can be caressed. In the meanwhile his mind engulfs your body, the very will to pleasure you seeing your insides squirm and pool warmly. Without complaint or hesitance he watches, amused, as your skin flushes and your every muscle bends to his will.

"A-aah!"

Slipping through his pants with unceremonious mucus, his cock slips inside of you with the help of a tentacle or two. It's big enough, lumpy and undulating, slipping in and out as though with a mind of its own. His powerful hands keep your legs high up, another tentacle pushing into your mouth as it throbs, swirls, and churns inside of you. With each thrust it hammers in his dominion over you, the voices of the other Illithid fading out as his own mind worms its way from the collection.

Merciful he tugs the tendrils from your mouth, save for one at the tip of your tongue, and lets you breathe. As the engorging and pulsating cock pounds all the way to your cervix, your mind grows foggier until he's all you can even feel.

I... I can see it now...!

From your body, eggs the size of your fist, squishing and squirming with new life ready to form. They'll grow into an army, nay, a legion, that will serve the new Absolute. Never will you die, for only you are worthy of this blessing - and thus the only one that should be seated upon the blessed cock of the Emperor.

Sucking that tentacle back into your mouth, your moans are silenced once again, thumb rubbing the tentacle guiding your arm around his neck.

Undulating further, his cock squirms and engorges until it settles in for what feels like eternity. He lowers your legs to hang them over the arms of the throne, familiar tendrils wrapping around your ankles. Anticipation sees your body arch, his arms wrapping around your waist as the rest of his tentacles tighten around your head. Not in hunger or malice, but an overwhelming possessiveness that will never see you be rescued or taken from him by another.

Lowering to grab your hips, his own snap up into them, and you squeal, mouth gaping open as he mercilessly pounds into you. Pleasured cries and pleas for him to never stop reverberate through the ship, him not interested in silencing them. Encouraged by your pleasure he continues his powerful claiming of your womb, his own arousal and satisfaction stoked by your flaming hunger for more.

"Yes-! YES!" You cry. "Ohhh, my Emperor! Oh, my Emperor!" Your one hand caresses his slimy head, one of his hands coming up to hold yours. "Aaah! Aa-aaah! Aaaah! Gh- fuck! Ahhh!!!"

Your back arches, and light flashes in your eyes. After too short a time he shoots a load into you, neverending, until your stomach expands and then hangs. The hand holding your precious head falls to hold your belly. In what feels like no time it feels lumpy, already hard at work in proving he made a good decision keeping you alive after you'd robbed him of the paladin.

"There. Now, you will bear the trueborn, and with me rule this world and all beyond. May our bodies never age or fall to mortal malady, for we will be the architects of a world befitting only our ilk."

He reaches beneath your body, cock sliding back into its slit, and an egg slides into his palm.

"Until time itself withers."

#egg laying #monster story #mind flayer #i'm not tagging bg3 because this isn't bg3 #my writing #monster x reader #mind flayer x you #mind flayer x human #help #monster x human #monster x you #writers of tumblr #i will never be okay :D #dnd fanfiction #hey i can tag that #ok thanks imma go now

[wxntrfrostt]

I GAVE ASTARION A CAT! I DID IT!! Also yes I'm aware that the title sounds like a bad teen romance novel but like. Mannn.

I think people also read fics here?? I've never posted writing stuff here before, buttttttt why not.

It's Astarion post game w/ a male durge and it's 3.5k words of weirdos and fluff + a very disgruntled kitten. Enjoy. (Also spoilers, obviously)

~~~~~

Astarion listened to the pitter-pat of rain falling against their window. He curled into himself tighter on their bed, smooth silk sliding against his skin and complimenting the comfort of the rhythmic tap of rainfall.

Tav had been hesitant to set up their bed next to a window - they’d set up a curtain thick enough to block the sun, though it was nonetheless risky - but Astarion had insisted, for the moments like these. The curtain was parted now, and Astarion watched the grey sky far above. Their manor had bordering buildings, but from the top floor, they didn’t block much of the view. Astarion had made sure of it before letting Tav accept the offer.

The aftermath of the Absolute left so many residences without live bodies to fill them, and as the heroes of the city(and because most of the people in charge were dead), Tav and Astarion had practically been left their pick of the city.

Astarion reached forward to rest his hand on Tav’s empty spot, running his fingers idly over the wrinkles left there. It was imagined, Astarion knew, but it always felt like his warmth lingered even after he was gone, clinging to bedsheets so as to never Astarion truly alone.

It was rare for Tav to go out at night without Astarion, but the rain forced Astarion to remain behind. He didn’t worry for Tav’s safety, nor his charismatic guile, in dealing with this new contact, but it was the itch of not knowing that clawed at him.

Astarion scooted over to press his face to the abandoned spot. Tav’s smell clung to the silk like heat and copper, and Astarion let it wash over him, calming his flighty nerves.

The rain continued to beat at the rooftops while Astarion watched the clouded, starless sky through one eye. What faint moonlight survived the cloud cover fell over his face in a gentle wash. Tav would be home soon, either with a lead on how to let Astarion walk in the sun again, or with new blood on his hands.

Astarion’s fist tightened in the sheets. Soon.

No sooner had the thought left his mind than there was a click from downstairs. Astarion’s heart jumped and he threw himself from bed. It took a moment of rushing to the door with wild abandon to remember his sensibilities, to slow down before darting out of the room. He stopped, donning his calm, collected demeanor before moseying out into the foyer with renewed panache.

Astarion leaned one hip against the top of their bannister and crossed his arms over his bare chest as Tav shuffled in on the floor below, dripping with rainwater and clutching a strange cloth bundle to his chest.

The sound of the rain and world outside shut off with the snap of the door shutting closed behind him.

“You’re dripping everywhere, my love,” Astarion said from his place above. Tav looked up and ran his eyes over Astarion’s shirtless frame. The quick dart of his eyes away from Astarion wasn’t subtle enough to hide his appreciation, and Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the sweetness of Tav’s decency.

“You sound so pleased to see me,” he chuckled at Astarion with demure poise, slicking his hair back with his free hand. Astarion uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on the bannister, letting his fingers slide down the fine wood as he descended. Tav’s tracked him with interest every step down the stairs.

“What news of our new friend?” Astarion asked, casually. He was sure to keep traces of anything beyond passive interest from his voice; he wouldn’t show how the question ate at him.

“Never showed up.”

Astarion’s heart sank silently, but he smiled.

“Mmm, a shame,” he said, feigning disinterest as his fingers left the bottom of the bannister with a flourish. He sidled across the floor with sultry languidity. “I would have liked to meet him.” Astarion raised a hand and tightened it into a claw- underlying intention made clear with a smirk.

“Terrible business for him, really,” Tav said, matter-of-fact, as Astarion closed the distance. “Men always taste better when drunk with vengeance, after all.”

And there was the coy grin, so subtle on his lips that it would be lost on anyone else, every statement whimsy for the two of them to laugh about.

Astarion pressed his palm to Tav’s cheek, letting his fingers thread through wet strands and cup around his jaw. “You know me so well.” Astarion eased forward, teasing his lips at Tav’s own, when movement caught in his lower vision and he stopped.

He’d forgotten about the strange bundle Tav held.

Did it just…move?

Astarion untangled himself from Tav’s side, distracted from the half-tense of Tav’s hand as he stopped himself from reaching out.

Astarion’s brow furrowed as he saw the tiniest squirm of the bundle.

“Ah, yes,” Tav began, sheepishly, after he saw what drew Astarion’s attention. “I did find something else.” The tiefling began to rummage around the cloth folds, seeming…

Bashful? Astarion stepped back and crossed his arms, as though that couldn’t possibly be the conclusion he’d come to. What in the Hells would make Tav, of all people…embarrassed? Even in his mind, the notion sounded ridiculous, comedically so. Genocidal scourge and former Bhaalspawn - timid like a blushing virgin. Hah! That was almost more intriguing than whatever was in the cloth in the first place, but not quite. It only made Astarion more painfully intrigued.

Tav paused in his rifling, seemingly come to the precipice of whatever it was, and shot Astarion a nervous, sidelong glance.

Astarion quirked his brow and nodded towards it, impatient. Go on, then.

Gently, Tav pried a final layer of cloth away to reveal the head of a dirty, sopping wet kitten.

“Oh,” Astarion breathed.

The kitten glared at him through bleary eyes, so covered in dirt and grime that he couldn’t even tell the color of its coat. Its head wobbled, and it narrowed its eyes at Astarion. Tav held it awkwardly in his arms and stared at it like he wasn’t sure quite what to do. Tav had lost his animal speech when he’d lost Bhaal’s patronage, and now didn’t understand how to behave around them, acting like they were some alien creature beyond comprehension. The awkwardness was endearing, if a bit of a pain.

“I uh-” Tav started, voice betraying his uncertainty as he stared at the little thing. The kitten grunted and shifted around in its blanket prison, prompting Tav to hold it a little further out from his body. “Well. Figured you might want a companion. Y’know, to keep you company during nights like these- or for the day, when I’m asleep,” he added with an uncharacteristically expressive nod of his head to the side.

Astarion creeped towards the kitten, trying to assess the pit in his stomach. He teased Tav with comfortable ease of habit - “Oh please, you just don’t want to admit you’re the ‘saving kittens’ hero type now,” came easy - but his throat clogged.

Tav grumbled but didn’t deny the accusation, and watched as Astarion extended a finger in front of the kitten’s nose. It lifted its head and sniffed, and Astarion saw hints of - well, what might be white fur, beneath the muck. After a moment of sniffing and pondering, the kitten pulled back and gently, wobbly, butted its forehead against Astarion’s knuckle. The poor little wretch was filthy, but Astarion found that fact easy to ignore for now as he scratched his fingernail behind one of its ears. The kitten stretched its neck and purred.

Astarion’s heart seized. The kitten’s purr was weak and broke off momentarily often, but it was enough.

He found it troublesome to speak.

“Well,” he said, voice wavering. “No one else will take care of the poor thing, so we might as well.”

He stated it like sheer simplicity of fact, rather than a proposition of kindness. Tav smiled at him in a way that told him he didn’t at all believe Astarion’s act of practicality, but he nodded, unwilling to break the unspoken illusion. For that, Astarion was grateful.

~~~

The kitten was, rather noisily and with great displeasure, sitting in a small tub of rapidly dirtying water while Tav gently scrubbed her with his hands. They’d moved to the empty space of their bedroom - Astarion sitting comfortably on the bed and watching while Tav pulled up a stool and began to work. Tav’s clothes dried next to the hearth that crackled at the back end of the room, and their respective dinners for the night sat on the nightstand. Astarion placed his fingers on the neck of his chosen definite-not-wine bottle and lifted it to rest next to him on the bed top, while Tav’s hot but uncooked cut of raw meat sat in a puddle of its own juices on a porcelain plate. Astarion looked at the grisly slab over his nose and sniffed with displeasure. Tieflings.

Astarion sat back against the headboard and raised the bottle to his lips while watching Tav. He eyed the muscles in his arms as they tensed and the tendons of his hands flexing as his fingers worked out the mud and gunk from the kitten’s fur. She squirmed in his hands, mewing indignantly as Tav handled her.

It was all well and fine, of course, Astarion knew those hands well. Despite the claws and gnarled knuckles, Tav had a gentle, if firm, grip, and Astarion was as happy to watch it as he was to be subject under it.

He watched with growing amusement as the kitten flailed about wildly, her indignant rage mounted to a high. She sunk her teeth into one of Tav’s knuckles and growled. Growled! Astarion loved her already.

Tav’s brow furrowed and he frowned. He was cute like that, all stoic consternation and hard eyes. He held the kitten up in the air with one hand, both bodies dripping water as the little she-devil continued to sink her little fangs into his finger, eyes narrowed and boring into his.

“It’s not nearly as charming as when you do it,” Tav said, his voice level. If Astarion hadn’t known his monotone humor so well, it would’ve been lost on him that he was joking.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said, smirking and gesturing with bottle in hand. “She’s got some spunk. I like it.” He made a show of dragging his eyes up Tav’s bare neck. “Now, if you’re wanting a more practiced predator, I can oblige.” Astarion bared his fangs in the light.

A slight flush rose to Tav’s face, but he kept his face unresponsive and returned to dunking the kitten without giving Astarion his pleasure in a reaction. Astarion smirked and rolled his eyes. You darling man, you’re not nearly as subtle as you think. Astarion would just have to try harder.

Tav pressed his thumb into the kitten’s forehead and rubbed, and the little thing seemed to have trouble deciding between being mad about it or enjoying the attention. “I wouldn’t mind,” Tav said, the flush creeping down his neck, “but finish your dinner first. Dessert comes later.”

Astarion chuckled and flashed his teeth again. “You spoil me,” he cooed, before settling back into his leisurely position, already salivating at the thought of Tav’s blood coating his tongue.

Tav glanced momentarily at the bottle in Astarion’s loose grip. “Who is that, by the way?”

Astarion hummed and pursed his lips, holding the bottle up to the light. In a moment of sick humor, Tav had proposed the idea of labeling the victims they drained, and Astarion had found it entertaining enough to start doing it. He looked at the scrawl.

“It’s titled ‘dumbass bhaal-thrall.’” The title wasn’t one who could put a face to. He looked to Tav for an explanation, who was pressing his lips together in an attempt to hide his self-satisfied smile, but his eyes twinkled with pleasure that betrayed him.

“How very elegant. I’m not familiar,�� Astarion said, with a performative arch of his brow. “Care to enlighten me?” he asked. And if Tav’s face was to judge, he very much did care. Tav had that look about him that he got after successfully tormenting his prey - much like the cat who ate the canary - but he kept his voice calm.

“You were out of the house, then,” he said, “I found one of the cultists hanging about, stalking around our doors. Had some choice words for me - epic monologue and all that. Was intent on killing me and gathering glory for Father in ending my life.”

Astarion drank in the darkness carved into the lines of Tav's face as he told the story. Bhaal had killed his uncontrollable murderous urge, but Tav’s affinity for dark pleasures had remained. Especially for his former family.

Astarion inspected the viscous blood coating the glass interior with passive amusement. “Well. I bet that worked out well for him.”

Tav hummed, pleased. “Indeed.”

The kitten mewled as Tav picked her up by the scruff of the neck and gently shook her, encouraging the water to drip faster. Then, he placed the small thing on a nearby towel and shook his hands out in the tub.

Astarion sipped his dinner while Tav wrapped the little cretin up and towel-dried her. She wobbled back and forth as she got jostled, never finding balance, with her tail stuck straight up in the air. Spriteful little dear.

Tav stood, grabbing the tub of filthy water.

“I’ll go toss this. Don’t let her get to my steak.”

Astarion peered out of the side of his eye to the slab of bloody meat. ‘Steak,’ the man said. What a kind word for it. Nonetheless, he nodded, and Tav left with the small tub on his hip.

The kitten looked around in confusion on her little towel mountain, unsure what to make of the world she found herself in now that there was nothing to scream at. Astarion watched her for a few moments from his perch and she wandered around, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaning down.

“It’s terrible, isn’t it,” he said. He set his bottle on the floor to instead prop his hands under his chin while the kitten continued her adventure. “To be left without a foe to face, no vengeance to be gotten. You poor thing.”

She turned to face him and wandered forward, one awkward kitten step at a time.

“Now, don’t go telling him this,” Astarion whispered, as though telling a scandalous but delightful secret, “But I think you could take him.” Astarion nodded towards the door, where Tav had left. “Devour him whole, if you wanted. You’re a fearsome little darling, I can tell.”

The kitten, having no comprehension of language or bloodlust, wandered dumbly over to Astarion and braced her front paws against his shin. She sniffed the air haughtily and then meowed, demanding something. Her claws dug into him as she attempted to jump up and climb his leg.

“Ah- ow- okay,” Astarion hissed through his teeth. He unhooked her claws from his trouser leg and picked her up. She mewed, again, but didn’t protest as he relocated her to sit in his lap. It took a new moment to reorient her surroundings, but the kitten was once again on the move in good time.

Astarion watched with adoration as she seemed content to explore his lap, once even standing up and bracing against his stomach to screech, very demandingly and very noisily, directly to his face.

“Well, aren’t you precious?” he said, staring down into her determined little face as her eyes squinted and she screamed again, this time for longer and somehow more noisily than before.

“She’s hungry,” Tav said from the door. Astarion startled and looked up. His lover leaned against the doorframe, watching them.

Astarion mock pouted, leaning back to rest on his hands. The kitten took the invitation to start crawling up his chest.

“How long have you been lurking?”

Tav smiled, his eyes soft. It was still odd to see him so at peace these days, but it was a privilege Astarion fought hard for and well cherished.

“Long enough,” he said, watching as the small white kitten mounted Astarion’s collarbone and pushed into his neck. Astarion felt the tickle of her sniffing around his ear before she paused and screamed directly into it.

“Yeah alright,” Tav said, pushing off of the door frame. “It’s food time.”

Astarion watched in horror as Tav pried the kitten from Astarion’s shoulder and reached for his plate.

“Please don’t tell me you’re about to do what I think you’re going to,” he pleaded, eyeing the platter with disapproval.

Tav stopped, kitten in hand, long enough for Astarion to see the shit-eating grin on his face before he picked the meat up with delicate claws. He bared sharp double canines and tore off a chunk before mercifully setting the raw cut down. Astarion grimaced as Tav reached his grisled fingers up to his teeth to pick away smaller chunks that the kitten sniffed and devoured readily in his hand. Like a mother bird to her chick.

“You’re disgusting,” Astarion said truthfully, but without any real bite. Tav smiled through the next portioned scrap to be ripped off and nodded to Astarion’s discarded blood bottle.

Astarion didn’t need their illithid connection anymore to know what he was saying.

Yeah yeah, go drink your dead man’s ichor, vampire spawn.

Astarion sniffed, but took his bottle and retreated back under the bed canopy. At least Astarion had class. That - he glanced over again to the horrific scene - was just barbaric.

Though, he thought with distant musing as he lost himself into the blood, part of him enjoyed the wild predator he slept beside. The sight of Tav drenched in viscera and near feral at a kill was what had piqued his interest in the first place.

Still…

Astarion watched the pair again, with growing fondness despite the display.

The softer side was nice, too. Astarion watched and curled his lip into a sneer as Tav tore off another chunk from the mother slab.

Gruesome and freakish, but nice.

“Wash your hands before coming to bed tonight,” Astarion sighed, acquiesced to this strange new life and the freaks that came with it.

~~~

Astarion looked up from his book to see the barest hint of the sky lightening from their window, and leaned over Tav to shut the curtains. Before settling back into his own spot Astarion brushed his knuckles over Tav’s face with a warm smile. His eyes fluttered in his sleep, but they didn’t open, and Astarion took his place again, gentle warmth sticking with him. He saved his trance for the high hours of the day, when the sun was brightest. For several hours on either side of that, Tav slept peacefully at his side.

Astarion flipped to the next page and read, distantly appreciating the warm back pressed against his flank.

From the front of the bed, Astarion heard a little mrrrp!, and several prickling, scratching noises as their new tenant climbed the bed with needle claws. She’d disappeared for a few hours after the bath, and now looked…significantly more like a cat, rather than a strange deformed fluffy rodent. Astarion felt a strange sense of pride at the sight. Good for her.

She spotted Astarion still awake and pranced over, tail fluffed out and stuck straight into the air.

“You’re very adventurous, you know, for a delectable little thing approaching a vampire.”

The kitten continued on, oblivious, and Astarion set his book to the side as she approached, climbing over limbs and blanket folds like great valleys and mountains.

Astarion chuckled and scratched behind her ear as she stopped at his stomach, kneading into the soft flesh there. She purred so loud for her size, and Astarion marveled at the fearless affection.

“You’re very lucky I’m so kind, you know,” he said, scratching under her chin. She closed her eyes and stretched out her neck under the attention. “Most vampires are vicious, terrible things. I am too, of course,” he said quickly, “But I respect a fellow hunter.”

The kitten settled down into a loaf on his belly, still purring her heart out and kneading at his stomach.

After several minutes of attention, the kitten had made no sign of moving and instead settled further, ceasing her kneading and setting her chin out onto Astarion’s sternum as she drifted off into kitty sleep. He continued to scratch with a gentle smile on his face.

Astarion looked to the sleeping man beside him, the rise and fall of his chest, and then to the kitten drifting off on his front. Gentle, as to not disturb either, he indulged himself with a dramatic sigh.

Life was good, he supposed.

Then, when he was sure that the kitten had fallen asleep too, he allowed himself a small giggle of joy.

~~~~~

#astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #the dark urge #bg3 durge #bg3 astarion #I gave astarion a cat #they will be partners in crime forever #there will be more #also how tf does fanfic on tumblr work??? #I've never done this before help #baldur's gate 3

[necromeowncy]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I've been tagged by @pewterkat ! Thank you for tagging me! :D

How many works do you have on Ao3? Currently at 23! 22 for Final Fantasy XIV and 1 original work.

What's your total Ao3 word count? 182,581 at the moment! But I have thousands upon thousands more in WIPs that I should probably post at some point. lol

What fandoms do you write for? Mostly Final Fantasy XIV for the WoL x G'raha ship, but I'd love to publish some Karlach/Tav fics at some point for Baldur's Gate 3. (I have a high elf wizard that's in love with her.)

What are your top 5 fics by Kudos? 1. Heat - a heat fic. Pure smut. Very horny. 2. Delights - a collection of short kink fics. Also very horny. 3. Fantasies - a visual novel about sexual fantasies. 4. Here at Memory's End - the first wolgraha fic I've ever written. Slowburn love story from ARR to the end of Endwalker. 5. Reflections - A collection of shorter fics that fit in with Aedric & G'raha's story, as well as other MSQ characters. (Some of my best prose is in here, in my opinion!)

Do you reply to comments? I do! Sometimes it takes me several days/weeks/months, but I always try to. Sometimes social batteries are low and it takes me a bit, but I read and appreciate every single one, and go back and read comments all the time to feel loved.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? My Lightwarden AU, Unrequited. It's a bad end to Shadowbringers in which Aedric turns into a Lightwarden. It's angsty, but also supreme monsterfucker. I went full-blast monsterfucker on this one. Still a favorite to this day.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hm. Most of them? lol. I am a romance/fluff/erotica writer. They all have happy endings.

Do you get hate on fics? Not really on fics themselves, but on social media. I just block though. *shrugs*

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Oh honey. Yes. (That's an understatement.) I seem to specialize in "soft nerds who are into BDSM/kink". I love soft service dom/sub who learns to let go and enjoy. I love the desperately horny. I love the enthusiastic consent. I love soul mates who fuck each other as if every breath, every touch, every movement of body against body is proof that they are here. That they are together. That they are loved and safe. One of my favorite fics I've ever written is Verdancy, an introduction of sorts of Aedric & G'raha's dom/sub BDSM journey. Though the most on-brand quintessential Aedric & G'raha smut is definitely Bibliophilia, in which the two nerds fuck in a library.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've ever written? I do not write crossovers, but I wouldn't be opposed to it! I'm not sure which crossover though lol

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge, but I'd be 100% okay with it if I'm asked first!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? In a way? I have a small WIP with my friend (he doesn't have an XIV Tumblr, but he's on AO3 as Indasha) in which our two WoLs and G'raha are bound together as the three Fates. So a bit of a poly ship. (Gee, Aedric, how come you get two catboys? lol) My friends and I had a vaguely Greek Gods AU. If people want, I can post snippets and screenshots from it? Just send me an ask if interested, I guess haha

What's your all-time favorite ship? Seeing as how this is my XIV/writing blog, it's very obviously WoL x G'raha Tia. 🥺 They mean so much to me.

What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? I intend to finish every single of my WIPs, and I never consider them abandoned. Ever. Instead, I'll give a preview of what I'm currently working on, when I have time to write lately: - Vampire AU (we all know this lol) - A fic about shibari/bondage called Vermilion. G'raha ties Aedric up. G'raha POV. - His Inflorescence, part 2. I'm over halfway done.

What are your writing strengths? I think my strengths are showing moments of intimacy and vulnerability. People have told me I'm good at combining the horny with the soft, too.

What are your writing weaknesses? Writing scenes with more than two characters lol Also, dialog. I always feel like I'm horrible at it.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I speak French, but don't know where that would ever come up in my fics? (Maybe Ishgardian curse words lol)

First fandom you wrote for? Oh boy. When I was 17 years old, I wrote two fanfics for Axis Powers Hetalia. I liked Sweden/Finland. I'm no longer in that fandom, but they're still a very cute ship to me, even after 13 years.

Favorite fic you've ever written? While I love most of my fics, Hunger, my Vampire AU, is my favorite of all time for many reasons. It's the first fic in which I wrote an original plot that's not influenced by canon events at all. It's going to be the length of a novel, when finished, most likely. Once it's done, I may stick it back into the writing soup and let it simmer and see if an original novel comes out of it. Who knows.

If you read this far, consider yourself tagged! :D Especially if we are mutuals.

#hoo boy this took me 2 hours to write somehow XD #this was very fun #thank you so much for the tag!! #tag game #writing #fic writing #fanfiction #ffxiv fanfiction

[wilchur]

1, 7 and 11 for the durge ask thingy :^〕

I went a bit off with these ones nonnie, I'm so sorry... But you asked for it! So here it is

1. What circumstances led to your Dark Urge becoming their Class/Subclass?

The sorcerer part is easy -- a gift from dad. Since he’s an invoker (I modded the Divine Soul subclass into the game, but there’s genuinely dialogue that implies that Durge’s sorcery is of divine origin so…) there’s not much more to it than that, that part of his power comes straight from his heritage. As for Paladin though… it’s a bit of a story. I imagine he started out as an Oath of Devotion (or if I had the entire 5e roster to choose from, Redemption maybe? Since that would hit close to home for him) paladin in a loose service of The Triad when he was young, but that oath did not last long. He was barely 21 or so when Bhaal decided he’s had enough of that whole “I’m better than the whispers of slaughter carried by my blood” charade, and forced his hand by unleashing the Slayer upon Ezra’s paladin order. That itself did not break the oath since he had no choice in the matter, but coming to his senses and finding everyone he knew so shredded their state could barely be classified as solid anymore, stripped Ezra of all the hope and lead him to break the oath by swearing allegiance to Bhaal and eventually becoming High Primate of his temple. He had no reason not to become an Oathbreaker at that point (“Sure, why not. What more damage could some more dark power shoved up my ass do, might as well start a collection” essentially) and he’s been one ever since. He doesn’t remember it of course so he doesn’t really seek to reclaim the oath he lost over a 100 years ago and it’s not like he really believes in the tenets anyway, not anymore. Oathbreaker suits him just fine.

7. Did your Dark Urge recall any childhood memories? If yes, how do they feel about the revelations? If no, was it by choice or lack of options?

He did eat the Noblestalk and I switched some stuff around to have that be the trigger for the memory of murdering his foster parents. He did not like that much obviously, but the memory was so brief and there was so much other shit going on he really did not have the brainpower to dwell or process it properly. However! I like the idea of his memories, especially the really deeply buried pre-Bhaal ones, being more triggerable than they are in the game. Those show up for Ezra a few times once the party arrives in Baldur’s Gate and are mostly tied to the ilmatari temple. I’m not gonna go much into detail about what they are because I’m still ironing that out and don’t wanna spoil the eventual fic, but those are the pleasant ones. They both deliver the painful truth -- “Was I sweet once?” No, you were not, but that’s okay – and the balm to soothe the burn in the form of there being people who cared about him anyways. It’s something he needs a lot at that point in the story and is very grateful to remember.

11. What motivates your Dark Urge to either embrace or resist the Urge?

I don’t really follow a straight embrace/resist path with Ezra just as I don’t separate him into different people before and after the tadpole. He’s the same person who fucked corpses and ate babies, the person who crowned an elderbrain and stood by a megalomaniac tyrant’s side knowing full well that the man’s climb to power will be paved with corpses. Lobotomy did not suddenly make him a good person. He’s still selfish, he’d still rather result to cruelty if it’s the easiest option, he enjoys the rush of ecstasy that makes his breath tremble when he’s nearly elbow deep in someone’s chest cavity... But he does not remember being stripped of the hope that he can be more than that, if that makes sense? When he resists the Urge it’s not because he would not enjoy breaking a paralysed girl’s legs like twigs or smile feeling the energy in the air shift as a child breathes her last laying on cold stone floor, he knows he would love it. But what does that make him? A monster, nothing more. And maybe that’s what he is, a wretched thing, but there are these people around him now, that look at him much different than he sees himself and he likes that even more than he enjoys wrecking mindless carnage. There’s no Gortash (who he might not remember, but the echo is still there) who saw him as a person even at his worst, he doesn’t know how they’d react to seeing what he really is so he does not let them. If they were not present, he probably would not bother to deny himself. The same way if explicitly given permission or encouraged to, he will a 100% go wild. Stuff like Astarion telling him to nibble on goblin toes or Shadowheart encouraging him to take over for lousy torturers will have Ezra hold his breath in excitement and comply most eagerly. But while he does not give a flying fuck about hurting strangers, because of them seemingly genuinely caring about him in their own ways, he really does not want to hurt any of the companions no matter what the Urge whispers in his ear. They’re the only people that are off limits.

Still, there’s someone that dies during the events of Ezra’s post-tadpole story that while not a death he himself caused, consciously or otherwise, is very much something that he could’ve prevented and so its weight gets put on his shoulders to bear anyway. That causes a bit of a shift in him, the guilt makes him go from resisting the Urge because he wants to conceal it to resisting it because he’s had enough and is tired of being defined by it. He even starts going a bit out of his way to save people when in the past he would’ve just left them to die because he realises that every death he does not prevent might as well be intentional, just because of the nature of who he is. Does that mean he stands up to Bhaal as a true resist Durge would? Fuck no. Selfish, remember? And scared. By the time he reaches Bhaal’s altar he’s seen what happens to the souls he claims, they are bound forever into his servitude as echoes of themselves. That’s something Ezra can’t bring himself to accept, just as he can’t bring himself to let Bhaal kill him and leave all his friends behind while there’s still an elderbrain they’re bound to fight. He’ll die, he’ll have to if he wants to be free, but that requires it to be on his own terms. Not upon Bhaal’s damn altar in his godsdamned temple, you know? So the Urge he might resist, but he doesn't have as much of a drive and courage to outright deny his heritage, no matter the consequence. Not until the end.

#bg3 #durge ask game #durge spoilers #the dark urge #bg3:ezra

[blueinkedfrost]

Baldur’s Gate Gift Exchange - Seeking Pinch Hitters!

The Baldur’s Gate Gift Exchange has the following prompts seeking a good home.

To fulfil a pinch hit, open the Baldur’s Gate Gift Exchange, select ‘Post to collection’, then add the recipient’s ArchiveOfOurOwn name into the ‘Gift this work to’ box.

Please claim pinch hits by sending a private message to me on Tumblr, Discord or another platform (since this exchange is anonymous until reveals).

Request 1: Anjak - CLAIMED

Phaere/Solaufein (Baldur's Gate)

Solaufein (Baldur's Gate)

Phaere (Baldur's Gate)

... [B]asically I want a prequel sort of fic. It can be short, it can be long, it can be fanart, but I want to see what Solaufein and Phaere were like before they became what they are. What happened to Phaere to make her this way? How does Charname (no one specific, can by any Charname) fit into this? I'm curious to see other people's take on drow and their complicated society/relationships. NSFW is probaby guaranteed, this is drow we're talking about. Have fun!

Request 2: Ant_Agony - CLAIMED

Any Character

Any Relationship

Baldur's Gate I/II/ToB, original (pre-EE) characters.

Any kind of fanwork would be appreciated.

There are some ideas for you to choose from:

I've always liked Valygar for his calmness, restraint, and kind heart, and I wonder if any of the companions (female, I guess) would get along with him romantically. Would it be a mage, so he should get over his prejudice? Will he affect this character in some way, trying to make their life more... peaceful? Or quite the opposite? I'm open to any point of view you'd like to share.

If you don't know or don't like Valygar enough to make it happen, you can try the same scenario with Aerie. Who among the companions may become very special to her? I don't feel like Haer'dalis will be a decent match for her. There are much more compassionate characters, both male and female. Still, open to anything you'll make up.

This is a very specific one. When I role-play as a lawful neutral or lawful evil character, I always fall into Scar, the second-in-command of the Flaming Fist. The problem is, he and Charname never have much time together due to his role in the game and his fate, so I just can't make it happen in my head. They're both lawful and responsible, and the Charname is such a young girl while he's a seasoned guard, so even if there's some chemistry between them, I can't imagine how they could end up together (even if just for a few days, until the plot goes on). So if you could help me to imagine it properly, with all the details one will need to believe it, I would be really happy.

Content to avoid: toxic or abusive relationships.

Request 3: AvandraTheMarySueSlayer - CLAIMED

Charname (Baldur's Gate)

Rasaad yn Bashir

Solaufein (Baldur's Gate)

Viconia DeVir

Any Relationship

DNWs: BG3 (please no spoilers!), noncon, toxic relationships, underage, unrequested kinks

I'd like a BG2/ToB/postgame piece (fanfiction or fanart, your call) involving these four. Rasaad and Viconia are a mess together in a party, add Solaufein and it gets even more interesting! I'd like clashes of faith, culture, personality, and growth from all the conflict. Whether it's into friendship or something more romantic, it's your call. If you want to make it romantic, I'm well into polyamorous relationships as much as mono. The only requirement is that they're healthy. Which would mean a lot of work, especially on Viconia's part. Feel free to make Charname male or female or whatever you like better! Let them shine with the rest of this group <3 If you make it NSFW, I'd rather have an emphasis on feelings (especially for Viconia, she deserves all the love!) And above everything, have fun!

Request 4: Felkh - CLAIMED

Kivan (Baldur's Gate)

Viconia DeVir

Sarevok Anchev

Anomen Delryn

Any Relationship

BG 2 / TOB fanfiction or fanart, please.

Open to anything, but specifically, my favourite characters are Anomen, Kivan, Viconia, Minsc, Aerie, Sarevok and Keldorn.

As a gift, I would be glad to receive something heartwarming and fluff to the core, family, friendship, humor, any type of bonding between characters.

So, here's a couple of ideas, but I am open to something entirely different (preferably centered about one or two of my favourite characters), if my prompts do not inspire you.

Brotherly bonding or friendship with Sarevok. Preferably, with alignment change. When he and Charname feel like siblings? What is the moment when this warm family feeling occurs, do they play cards, search for a map of this gods forgotten lands around Saradush, engage in a drinking contest, do a sparring match? I would really love to read about that moment.

If you choose something Anomen centric, I would love to read how he seeks and/or receives support from some of the party members. How he feels appreciated and accepted, always thought Anomen really lacks that in his life.

Guilty pleasure time: always dreamt to read more of femCharname / Viconia. I always imagined their romance to be more friendship based than her original "crawl under my boot and lick the heel" type of behavior, when she opens up and allow ws herself to be vulnerable.

Any sweet Aerie & Minsc moment. Pairing or no, that is up to you. Maybe, he allows his witch to bathe Boo? Maybe, he carries Aerie on his shoulders and she is almost flying again? Maybe, they try to travel to Rashemen, problwm is, neither knows how excactly to reach rashemen so they must ask for directions on every crossroad. (All my prompts are somewhere on fluff territory, I'm afraid).

A little peace for Kivan, please. I woukd love to see him amused and laughing, lighthearted for a change. He is surrounded by quite a crazy bunch, after all.

DNW: nothing angsty, no gore / exsessive violence / tragedy / torture etc. Unhealthy relationship or love/hate.

And huge, huge thank you, my gift-giver!

Request 5: MxArpakasso - CLAIMED

Charname/Solaufein (Baldur's Gate)

Charname/Viconia DeVir

Solaufein (Baldur's Gate)

Viconia DeVir

Original Non-Binary Character

Any fanwork, any prompt, use any one or multiple of these characters.

My Bhaalspawn: Mothre (like Mothra with an e) they/them, surface elf, divine soul sorcerer of Bhaal. Description: Looks like a lunar moth (come up with your own design, I wanna see creativity) is disabled and has adventured with a leg brace and walking cane as mobility aids since leaving Candlekeep, is slightly taller than Imoen. Personality; studious, adventurous, performative, cryptid.

Viconia: Mothre met her on the 3rd day they left Candlekeep, and has kept her in the party since, all the way till the end. Favorite traveling companion, would have romanced if she was romancable.

Solaufein: "I could show you the world", Mothre is really sad he couldn't join the party, really wish he could have joined the party. Mothre would have also romanced him if it was possible.

Exclude any content that is kink, nsfw, non-consenting, depictions of abuse&torture (I'm aware both Viconia and Solaufein suffered those, do not describe it), enslavement, pregnancy, gore, multination, child endangerment.

Content that is okay: good feels, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, non-sexual intimacy, unrequited, trauma, depression, addiction, anxiety.

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate gift exchange #fanfic #fanart #baldur's gate fanfic #baldur's gate fanart

[kanayaks]

Giving the World Away - Part 1

A serialized, in-progess follow-up to Mirror Image.

Part 2 | Part 3

[alright, I'm still not admitting to this being a real fic, but I'm going to start posting it in a much less annoying way. here's everything that's been posted so far, collected in one place]

Morel's in the garden one day. She goes to do some druidcraft and she Disintegrates the entire azalea patch.

Her super powerful druid parents can't explain it. They've never seen this kind of magic before.

She writes to Shadowheart. Would you travel with me to Baldur's Gate? Something's happening and I need answers. It...Well, it scares me.

I know we haven't spoken, and I know it's my fault. But please. I need a friend, and you were my first in a decade.

When they get to Razamith Tower, she storms into Rolan's office and throws out a teleport that his automatic counterspell measures fail to override.

"Did you just - oh. That was Galerian Weave, wasn't it?" The ruffled feathers are quickly displaced by excitement.

"What?"

"Of course, you're his Chosen, obviously. My apologies, friend, I-"

"I am no one's fucking Chosen."

He looks between them uncertainly. "...I think I'm missing some context here, why don't we return to the tower to sort it out?"

"It's just the riverbank, Rolan. You're not in danger."

"Shadowheart, wasn't it?"

"Look, it's not complicated. She woke up a month ago and destroyed half her parent's garden, and we want an explanation. Right?"

Morel nods, stunned fury clamped around her throat.

"You manifested these abilities spontaneously?"

"Yes."

"But you're not..."

She refuses to answer. He tries again.

"You're certain you're not his-"

"If you say it again, I'll-" she breaks off, shaking her head, and starts to giggle, sounding more than a little crazed. "I'll fucking kill you? I think?" She shrugs and laughs.

"Morel." Shadowheart's admonishment sounds far too amused.

"She won't kill you. You can take us back to the tower, if that's what you want."

They teleport back and get some tea. He refrains from making any more assessments, sticking to straightforward questions about her recent magical experiences.

"So?"

He's clearly reluctant.

Morel sighs. "I'm sorry about earlier. I am. I appreciate the help. Genuinely."

"I still wouldn't say that word if I were you, though." Shadowheart sips her tea calmly.

"I appreciate what you've done for this city, and for me specifically. But the only thing I can tell you is that there is no such thing as a Galerian sorcerer. They don't exist."

"Clearly they do."

His eyebrows twitch skeptically, but he says nothing.

She takes in a deep breath. "Where do they all hole up?"

"The Galerian sect?"

"Yes." Her voice is acidic. "Them."

-------------------------------------------------------

"You really had no idea?"

Morel doesn't take her eyes off the fire.

"You were always...Theorizing. Discussing, conspiring to figure out what it could all mean."

Conspiring. With him, she means.

"And?"

"I'm just surprised, Morel."

"You're surprised?" She whips her head around in disbelief.

Shadowheart raises her hands, signaling her rhetorical retreat.

Morel draws up her knees and tucks her chin over them. "It sounds so fucking stupid."

"What does?"

"Galerian. It's not even the same vowel sound."

Shadowheart huffs uncertainly, like she's not sure if she's allowed to find it funny.

"Doesn't it, though?"

"Well, you know wizards, they're always-"

"'All they care about is power'."

Shadowheart looks at her warily. "You remember that."

"You remember it."

Shadowheart smirks. "Plenty of real estate."

"Fair. Sorry."

Morel looks at the ground. "Maybe...Maybe that was why."

"What?"

"Your letters. All I could ever think to say in return was 'you were right'."

-------------------------------------------------------

"So if you can teleport, why aren't we doing that? Haven't you been there before? That is how it works, isn't it?"

"Of course I've been there. I've been everywhere."

Shadowheart rolls her eyes.

"We..." Morel bites her lip. She's gotten a bit out of the habit of honesty, it makes her palms sweat to practice it once more. "We're not teleporting because I didn't even know I could do that."

"Hells, Morel." Shadowheart stops her horse with a sudden yank on the reins and looks over at her ferociously.

"I'm sorry, alright? I don't know why it brought you along, the only thing I was thinking was just, show him. Make him understand."

They start off again, at a slow walk.

"Well maybe you could think just a bit more next time, for everyone else's sake?"

"I'm sorry. I really - I'm not trying to be careless." Gods, it's all so fucking frustrating.

They fall silent for a minute.

"Why did I talk to the Stablemaster?"

"Hm?"

"You never used to let the rest of us do the talking. Wyll excluded, I know."

"The rest of you were either off-putting, or completely transparent." Morel waves a blithe hand.

"Oh, unlike you?"

She exhales a sharp breath. "If you want me to handle things from now on, fine. I'll fucking do it."

Shadowheart sighs.

She softens her tone. "I'm just saying. I've never seen you like this."

"You haven't seen me for a while."

"You didn't want me to."

There's nothing Morel could say in response to that.

"Well," she shakes it off, changing the subject. "You're right about teleportation. The better you know the place, the better it goes."

"Oh, wonderful. So where were we supposed to end up, then?"

"...I think I hit the mark exactly, actually."

"That muddy piece of riverbank?"

"Mhm."

"You're intimately familiar with a patch of dirt."

Morel shrugs.

"What, did it used to be a boat house?"

"No." She swallows, and her throat sticks. "It was, uh. It was the closest piece of shoreline to where we found the Crown."

"Where he left you." Shadowheart realizes quietly.

"No. I left him. He just wasn't there when I came back." She cracks a sarcastic smile.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Shadowheart asks slowly.

"No." She quickly wipes away the tear at the corner of her eye. "No, Shadowheart, I...I don't know how."

"That's fine. You don't have to."

"Thank you."

"Of course, Morel."

"I don't just mean...Thank you. For everything."

"Hey," Shadowheart stretches out a hand.

Morel takes it, more timidly than she'd like to admit.

"You've got me. Always." She squeezes Morel's hand once, then lets go.

-------------------------------------------------------

"What's the plan?"

Morel watches the laborers go about their business with distaste. For such a construction to be near complete in this short a time...

"Don't have one."

An immense amount of magic might have gone into it, that's very possible. But even so. She can't imagine working for people who have dedicated themselves to the ideal of accomplishment at any cost to be anything but deeply unpleasant, at best.

"You really don't want to corner someone to get some kind of lay of the land?"

"I don't have my old tricks anymore, Shadowheart."

"Well...We do have mine."

"Selûne shine on you for that, does she?"

Shadowheart scowls. "I'm not worshipping Selûne."

"Still using her power, though."

"I really don't think you want to have that fight, Morel." She looks at the temple meaningfully. "Not here."

Morel clenches and unclenches her fist, the churn of emotions too confused and awful to process. She forces herself to breathe, and merely weather them.

"Fine. Should we go have one in there, then?"

------------------------------------------------------------

There's a quiet hubbub in the interior. Craftsmen of multiple schools diligently ply their trade, carrying out their finishing touches. An obscene amount of money has clearly gone into the place.

"How does it even work? How do a bunch of men who all want to be the strongest, the richest, the most powerful and influential - form any kind of collective?"

"Faith, I suppose."

"Ugh." Morel stops and looks around disdainfully. "In wh-"

Her eye catches on the proud centerpiece finally. She whirls around so quickly it almost makes her dizzy.

"I-I'm going to throw up." She doubles over.

"No, you won't."

"No, really-"

"Excuse me."

She snaps up, holding a hand to her rushing forehead.

A wealthy looking man is making his way towards them, squinting disapprovingly as he looks over their road-clothes.

Like he's anything impressive. From his dress, he's clearly just some merchant, not even a wizard.

"Welcome to the First Port of Ambition. Can I help y-"

He stops suddenly and starts to choke.

"Oh gods," Shadowheart reacts, sounding more curious than alarmed.

The man falls to his knees and starts to vomit lightning. Shadowheart immediately begins casting, and the man flings out an arm, unleashing a torrent of wind.

"Shadowheart!"

Morel watches her get thrown back, and sees every person and object in the room pinned against the walls.

All except her.

She is drawn to the merchant at her feet, where two eyes glowing a hair-raisingly familiar indigo stare back at her. The veins in his face are dark with pollution, the symbol of the orb carved into his irises. Her mind divests itself from her body in shock.

And her hand reaches out.

Next

#my text #Giving the World Away #morale #morel whisperwillow #moreheart #named for the hatchie song

[crow-mortis]

༶•┈┈⛧┈ꉓꋪꂦꅏ

⛧°。ᵗʰⁱʳᵗʸ⁻ᵒⁿᵉ ⛧ ⁿᵒⁿᵇⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ⛧ ᵖᵃⁿ ⛧ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉʳ ⛧ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒᵍʳᵃᵖʰᵉʳ 。 °⛧

ⁿᵉᵒᶜⁱᵗⁱᵉˢ ⛧ ᵏᵒᶠⁱ ⛧ ᵗʷⁱᵗᵗᵉʳ ⛧ ᵍᵒᵒᵈʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⛧ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉʰᵉʸ

⛧°。┊about/dni

Not everyone has all of their info in their "About Me" so I figured I'd provide this list for anyone checking out my profile. DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE:

⛧ under 18

⛧ racist

⛧ lgbtqia+phobic *including transmeds, exclusionists, terfs and illegitmate sexualities/pronouns - i.e. MAP nor/mal, etc. (if they're meant to mock someone, i don't fw you)

⛧ pro-birth/pro life

⛧ xenophobic/islamophobic

⛧ sexist/misogynistic

⛧ pedophilic/MAP

⛧ ableist

⛧ anti-vax/anti-medicine

⛧ I also don't fw animal abuse, MAGA, blue lives matter, or general bigots.

I can/will add to this if I think of/run across more.

more under the cut !

This is the hardest thing for me to do on any social media website. I'm horrible at talking about myself unless it's in relation to one of my interests. Which, I'll briefly list below:

⛧ music

⛧ video games

⛧ creepy stuff/cryptids/ARGs

⛧ gardening/homesteading

⛧ crows

⛧ oddities/"vulturecore"

⛧ writing

⛧ photography

⛧ reading

I'm sure I have more I'll end up adding here eventually, but I can't ever think of many things I like right off the top of my head.

Call me Crow. I'm 31 y/o, nonbinary, pansexual, and my pronouns are they/them. I'm married and we have two dogs, one cat, a parrot, and twenty-four chickens (I post about all of them a lot so you'll probably get to know them well if you follow my blog.) We live on a 2 acre homestead in southern Appalachia. I practice conjure and rootwork that was taught to me by family and neighbors growing up. I love to forage and make my own herbal salves and tinctures, as well as canned items like preserves and jellies. My partner and I are also professional portrait and event photographers, and I love posting our work whenever I get the chance.

My favorite band is Coheed and Cambria, with Sleep Token and Ghost following closely behind. I'm an old school emo kid, and I also listen to a lot of pop-punk, numetal, and post-hardcore. I also dive into j-rock and SOME Appalachian gothic, neotraditional country, bluegrass, and folk music. My tastes are a little all over the place and if it sounds good I'll probably like it.

I am a gamer, and my favorite game is a tie between Bloodborne, Baldur’s Gate 3 and RDR2. I have also been playing Destiny 2 since the launch of Destiny 1 in 2014, and I fall in and out of love with it every few weeks. Depends on what the content is giving me at that time. I also really like Minecraft and other comfy games like Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing. I'm a huge fan of horror games and I especially love the ones with deep and interesting lore and worldbuilding.

I'm a writer, and have been actively doing so since I was 11 years old. I haven't published anything, as it's more of a hobby for me than anything (plus imposter syndrome sucks). I have a world building project/RP that I've had going with a friend of mine for almost a decade now. I love thinking of/writing new characters and short stories. I used to write fanfiction but I'm not consistent enough to post multiple-part fics anymore, and my schedule doesn't leave much time for that sort of devotion. So, for now, it's just a hobby I get to enjoy with a few select friends.

I'm really into creepy content. Cryptids, cosmic horror, ARGs, analog horror, and the occult. I've seen a lot of what there is to offer on YouTube, so I'm always open to suggestions on stuff that I may not have heard of. I also like to collect bones, antlers, and other oddities.

I'm a big reader, and I'm currently doing a 52 week book challenge for 2024. I usually read 2-3 books at a time for when my ADD says I need something different.

I am also autistic and was diagnosed as an adult (age 27). I also have relapsing/remitting MS; it affects my short term memory, vision, and balance, primarily. I also sometimes have some other cognitive issues (forgetting/flubbing words, names, etc.) I am on treatment for a few of the symptoms, but it does impact my daily life.

I think that's about it. Sorry for the wall of text, but I really don't know how else to format this.

⛧°。 ┊ my stuff.

links here !

⛧°。┊ other links.

links here !

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Ascended Astarion Route)

-----------------------------------------

2 DAYS LATER

Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Place him with the bear. Maybe he will make a good meal for it.”

“You heard Lady Minthara…Take him to the cage..”

Harsh, grating multitude of voices reach through unconscious haze, forcing me into a sharp awareness I’ve been captured and brought to somewhere with a screeching noise of cell door being opened indicating I’m about to be imprisoned.

Fluttering my eyes open, blurry vision of something brown, large and furry in the far corner of the cell comes into my line of sight with suddenly the large goblin who been dragging me flings me in with one single throw not even caring when I land on the harsh, uneven surface of the stone floor with a sickening thud – the injuries I had ascertained from somewhere soon making themselves known.

A clattering of my mask landing beside makes me scramble to grab hold of it, praying that Lesia is around somewhere and she is safe from harm – she would start to become extremely agitated if separated from me and could easily harm people around her – quickly slipping it back on.

“Oh, so you’re a Drow with a bit of history are we….” The Hobgoblin sneers out, forcing my eyes to widen heavily lifting my head straight up to see in cracked ornate mirror at the back of the cell my face is being shown in various angles – but enough to make out the details on it. “…Asdalen Wryric, the Snake of Faerun.”

 -----------------

Location – Shattered Sanctum, Ruined Temple – Western Heartlands – Early Afternoon

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“Out the way.”

“But….Lady Minthara, we’s were only playing with him…”

“Enough….Out of my sight and go find Ragzlin, you brats.”

A voice, female speaks pushing the goblin brats who’ve surrounded me out the way, a ashen-grey hand reaching to haul me up by hair off up from the hard, stone cold floor of the ruined Temple  – my mind trying not think of memories of being trapped in the ‘kennel’ where Godey, would watch and wait for ample time to strike –  that try not show a wince on my features.

Vision clearing, it reveals the person holding my head by my hair is a female drow with braided white hair, distinct ashen-grey mixed with gold highlights and a harsh, cold face with her other hand grabbing hold of my chin tightly.

She turns it to side to side to analyse the details of it, until forcing it back to look at her.

“Hmm….How did you get here, elf?” She asks me, making me go to give back a sarcastic retort to her question when a sharp, blinding pain shoots through my head and memories not my own filter through my mind – I realise, suddenly, they are her memories.

She releases my hair, wrenching away like I’ve burned her – maybe in a way I have with whatever that telepathic connection wave had been made. She glares down at me, while another figure appears, a large red Hobgoblin, to stand beside her.

“You called for me, Minthara. What bothers you?” the Hobgoblin states, large red arms crossing over their large, muscular chest – a beady eye flicking over my rugged appearance - with me, wondering if should try to create a diversion to escape.

--------------------------------------------

#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (4 of ?) #Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Ascended Astarion Route) #pictures sourced from various sources #fic snippet #Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight' #Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection' #additional tags to be added #chapter in wip mode #Just revealing some of it now to show how far getting with it

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Ascended Astarion Route)

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SEVERAL DAYS LATER

Location – Mindflyer Ship – Area Unknown – approaching Early Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

Sharp, blinding pain like being stabbed by thousand needles – even worse when Cazador had carved the mark on my back with his ‘needle’ as he called it – forces to shoot my eyes open seeing at first a blurry image in front of me then it clears to reveal I’m trapped in some kind of pod.

Panic begins to set in me on how to escape when a Mindflyer appears out of nowhere pressing something on the side of the pod where the unexpected sensation of dreaded fear fills my whole body at their presence.

I find myself becoming paralysed with their clawed slimy, cold hand grabbing hold of my chin to forcefully turn it to reveal the two puncture marks on neck - Cazador's fang-marks - using their other hand to pry my jaw open to reveal my fangs.

It's gaze is unnerving, like it's analysing me under a microscope - noting my fangs, how I produce the venom - less potent then actual Vampire's venom though - and the sharpness of them - until pulling back to float itself over to a pool of liquid where something white and tadpole lake swims within the ominious liquid.

The Mindflyer summons it out, bringing the floating white parasitic tadpole over to my trapped body in the pod where desperation begins to seep into me that I start to thrash in restraints holding me trapped within the pod.

"NO.....DON'T YOU....DARE....BR..."

Shouting loudly in the large chamber only for a clawed hand grabs hold my whole face - completely covering it - to slam the back of my head against the back of the curved pod-wall with a sickening crack reaching my ears.

My whole body goes limp in the pod, blood trickling down the back of the nape of my neck along with dizziness overwhelming me it allows the Mindflyer to remove their hand from my face to slip it around to wrench my head back by my hair.

A faint whimper escapes me due to the radiating pain from my head injury, fingers twitching uselessly - itching to raise up and claw the face of the Mindflyer but can't - seeing the white parasite-like tadpole being brought up to my right eye.

It's gnashing teeth inch closer and closer, until the thing lunges straight inwards it sends immediate writhing, unexplainable pain throughout my nerves, blood and especially head.

It feels like my skull is splitting apart - memories being shattered apart into tiny fragments by the burrowing parasite-like tadpole I cannot grasp them to save from being destroyed - until finally having completed it's task the pain stops.

Wetness is trickling down my cheeks, but it's not even affecting the Mindflyer in front of me who floats away to shut the pod leaving me alone with nothing left in my mind - I cannot remember any face who appears as I try to remember with it trickling away like sand through one's fingertips.

A harsh sharp blinding pulsating wave through my head from the parasite-like tadpole inhibiting it knocking me into an unconcious state.

I try to fight back, resist only to feel myself in mind harshly wrenched downwards to a black abyss falling slowly until landing in large lake of crimson where the waters of it begin to submerge my body - moving rapidy upwards - until the last sight I see floating above me is mirror image.

It's pale, white hand comes down to cover my face pushing me it back so I become fully submerged underneath the crimson waters - trapped beneath it, reminding of when my Master Cazador had placed me in sealed coffin as punishment for disobeying him.

It's the only I remember and nothing else. Nothing at all.

Not even the person who stirred up thoughts of woodland, warmth and hazel brown eyes ringed with gold.

What did it mean?

Who was this person?

Did I seduce them to take to Cazador?

I cannot remember.......I cannot remember.......

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#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Chapter 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Act 1) (Ascended Astarion Route) #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (2 of ?) #pictures sourced from various sources #additional tags to be added #fic snippet #Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight' #Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' -  Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion Route)

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Notes

This chapter deals with introducing and bringing everyone together hence the title 'Beginning the First Path'

Astarion due to their Tadpole and other reasons has lost all memories of him and Halsin sharing time together so that will be explained in further chapters

Asdalen as also lost his memories in the process.

The new character mentioned by description will be explained in further chapters

Short chapter

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Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid - Mid-Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Reassured by the Archdruid called Halsin, after he gives me a healing potion to speed up my Healing Factor – noting internally the potion has a faint aftertaste of honey and oak – I watch from the grassy verge where he’d told me to remain in such studious way, I gone to interject but a firm, stern glare and one hand being held up in front of my face effectively shut me up.

Damm, Archdruid, who does he think he is?

Though a benefit is the healing potion has acted more quickly than my healing factor.

Settling myself down on the grassy ledge above where the destroyed Nautiloid lays down below, I reach one hand into the travelling pack for the flask of wine and a cup to pour myself a glass – even though it may taste like ash to my tastebuds.

Another crackle of magic in the air nearly sets my hair standing on end, a large roaring sound of what sounds like a bear and finally, the sight of my ‘siblings’ escaping the ravaged beach area with their metaphorical tails tucked between their legs.

Bringing the cup of wine to my lips, I take a sip finding it’s not wine, but in fact it is blood mixed with a pinch of Nutmeg.

 How strange? Whoever left this traveling pack behind certainly knows about Vampires. Blood mixed with pinch of Nutmeg, could get addicted to this.

Relaxing on the grassy ledge, I see below from my vantage point the Archdruid Halsin is beginning to talk with the Barbarian female Tiefling, a Cleric – summarising from the way the half-elf acts around others – and the Wizard wearing robes of lilac seems to radiate strange, dangerous mystical energy around him.

Up on a long ridge on the other side, a sight of two figures coming down the hillside of it to the destroyed Nautiloid draws my attention away from the group below me.

The reason being one of them is dragging one of my ‘siblings’ Leon by his hair, with Dalyria trying to placate with a tall black man to let her ‘Brother’ free before he burns to crisp seeing already flakes of Leon’s skin are peeling off.

Typical, it had to be these two to be the ones left behind. Well, Astarion, you better head down and introduce yourself then.

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun – After Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Brother, are you alright? I was so worried when….”

“Listen, Archdruid Halsin, I apologize but…...I…Why are you calling me ‘Brother’?”

 The Archdruid Halsin begins to ask me, only to step back when I ask that question looking at me with his face going white as a sheet, a trembling hand coming up glowing with golden energy before exploding in a bunch of dead leaves and eyes starting to glisten with tears.

“I…Oakfather, why has this happened?......” He begins to say, only to mutter the rest of his sentence under his breath and beginning to pace back and forth until stops to look at me in such a way it makes my chest ache at the sight of it.

Is the reason he called me ‘Brother’ is because I remind him of someone else? Why does it feel right though when it calls me that. Are we related in some way?

Finding I don’t know what to say to him, I head over to where a Blacksmith is talking to Karlach – a female Barbarian Tiefling – about her Infernal Engine seeing the male sand-coloured Tiefling is thinking about something, his clawed hand stroking his chin in deep thought.

“I have an idea. It might work with some Infernal Iron.” The blacksmith tells her, reminding me of a piece of metal I’d picked up when exploring around the destroyed Nautiloid that reach into the traveling pack to get it out.

“Here. Will this do, Blacksmith?” I ask, holding it out to the sand coloured Tiefling who immediately takes it off my hands inspecting the piece of metal feeling Karlach, giving me a quick hug so she doesn’t burn me.

“Yes!!!? Thank you, I can work with this….Hang on…” the Blacksmith replies, turning to his anvil where placing on the metal on top reaches for the hammer heating up in the coal-fire to begin hammering it.

Sparks occasionally fly, a metallic ring echoing every-time he brings the hammer down to shape it – his muscles bulging with the effort, sweat forming and fierce concentration showing on his face – until stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Lesia, who’s been playing in the centre of the grove comes walking over to stand beside me along with someone else joining us: a Tiefling with light green-blue eyes, short-cut blue and black dyed hair and a silver looped-shaped earring and curved horns.

“Dammon, brother.” She says, making him turn his face followed by embracing the female Tiefling in his arms with “LITTLE SISTER!!?” reassuring Karlach, who’s expression had been briefly one of jealousy at the sight of the new Tiefling gives out a gentle sigh of relief at the fact the young Tiefling is Dammon’s sister.

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun – Still Mid-Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“I…...Archdruid, sorry to ask you of this….is there somewhere I can lay down?”

“Is your head hurting?”

Lifting my head up, I look at the Archdruid Halsin who turns slightly to face me at the top of the flight of stone-carved steps leading into the hidden areas of the Emerald Grove – the sleeping areas where most of the Druids would stay in during the heavy winter months that would hit West Faerun  - to look at me.

“Not really. It’s…just so can mull over what has transpired, darling.” I reply, a flirtatious tone forming in my voice and stepping myself closer to Halsin, who gives me a look he’s not amused by it.

Those beautiful, bold brown eyes ringed with gold showing a hint of displeasure, that it feels oddly fun to rile the Archdruid up this way.

“I think a rest would better suit you instead of flirting this way, Astarion Ancunin.” Halsin states to me, descending the stone-carved stone steps with no backward glance. His mistake, so descend the stone-carved steps to confront him.

How does this Archdruid know my full name!!!? I never told him!!! So how…!!!??

Slipping the dagger into my hand from my sleeve, nearly reaching him it’s the sudden sense of something that draws my attention away from him.

Curious, I stop in my pursuit of Archdruid Halsin to walk over to the area finding more stone-carved steps leading down to what must be another secret area.

Something about it though feels familiar – like I’ve been to the area at some point in my life, but I know I haven’t – placing a hand on the curved wall wondering should I descend into the bowels of Emerald Grove to figure out what is calling out to me.

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#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (5 of ?) #Part 2 - 'Beginning of the First Path' (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion Route) #pictures sourced from various sources #additional tags to be added #fic snippet #Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight' #Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Part 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Act 1)(Spawn Astarion Route)

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PART 1 - The Journey Begins' (Spawn Astarion Route)

Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid -  approaching Early Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V :

"Astarion.....Look out.....!!!!?...."

An echo of a voice. 

Was someone calling out to me? 

My......body.....hurts.....head is....splitting apart....

Holding my head in both of my hands, a fleeting memory of sitting in the back of a tavern watching someone walking away from the table I’m sitting at with beside me another person looking torn in between wanting to go after them and staying with me coming to the forefront of my mind.

Who was that?

I don’t recognise them. I….there faces are too blurred to recognise.

Had I been hunting? What was I doing in that Tavern?

Concentrating on the fleeting memory makes a strange, painful wave pulsate through my head causing all of it to fracture into complete, metaphorical shards.

This makes it extremely difficult in grasping hold of these shards to make sense of the memory and piece it back together until I'm left there with nothing - just empty blackness. 

Lowering my hands down to rest on my lap, I survey my surroundings noticing around me there  is scattered about remains of one thoroughly destroyed Mindflyer's Nautiloid.  

Among the Nautiloid wreckage area I'm in dotted here and there are glowing fires flickering among the wreckage and lying right beside me, an oval-shaped pod - the interior no longer intact, the glass panel shattered by some type of impact it ascertained with the other remaining half lying a few feet away. 

A radiating pain makes itself known from my starting-to-heal injuries I’ve ascertained at some point.

Though, thankfully nothing majorly serious wound-wise for me to be too concerned about even if admit to myself pales in comparison in what Master Cazador had carved permanently onto my back with what he called his ‘needle’ during my first years of Spawn-hood.

Spawn-hood referring to when a Vampire Spawn had just been ‘born’ more like created I would say would go through before becoming fully-fledged Vampire Spawn who knew how to stalk, hunt, seduce and kill their Prey they hunted down.

In my case it was I would bring back any Prey that I stalked, hunted and seduced back to Master Cazador’s residence where he would change them into Vampire Spawn or just feast on them right there and then without any care about whether family or loved ones would miss them.

Realising suddenly, interrupting the memory of what I had done in the past, I need to get out of the sun before burn up to a fine, wispy crisp I haul myself up gritting my teeth when my still-healing injuries protest themselves at me for beginning to move.

Almost stumbling backwards and forwards with a dizziness of standing up too fast hitting me in the process.

Or could it be the new host within my head?

It's insistent burrowing wriggling evident but still feel like it's waiting for the right chance to take over - trying to weaken me one-step-at-a-time. 

Beginning to make my way through the wreckage are, I stop by bodies of victims Mindflyer's had captured from Baldur's Gate and the surrounding areas to see whether hidden on their person they have anything of value which wouldn't be missed and I could easily sell off to a traveling merchant or trade for something mundune if they had no coin. 

After finding a decent pair of boots, a fresh, white tunic and leather brown breeches in a buried wooden chest, I slip off what have been wearing - a threadbare white tunic and breeches needing patched-up in some places - to change into the clothing I've just found.

"Strange, how this clothing perfectly fits me." I mutter, stepping out from the tent which used to change in only to realise I'm standing full, bright sunlight with not even my flesh beginning to burn - no wisps of steam rising up, flakes peeling of my body and sensation of needing to get to the shadwos - just warmth.

Warmth, I have not felt in years I've been a Vampire Spawn and yet, here I'm standing within sunlight for the very first time and not burning up - probably because of the 'parasite' in my head, who squirms a wee bit in indigination at being called it, giving me the ability to survive in sunlight. 

Why though?

What's the purpose of all of this?

Inflict me.......damm....parasite...

More squirming from it in particular, chooses to interrupt my unanswered internal questions, indicating I'm being barred from even learning about why it been placed within my head and for what purpose.

"Are you sure you saw someone else, soldier." 

"I....it might have been....but with all the thick smog from the fires it's difficult to tell."

"Trust your instincts, wizard. You definately saw someone or something. Pray it not be one of those foul creatures, y'know.

"Please do not remind me. It's worse I'm…..”

The sound of voices speaking relatively close, makes me quickly pack up the set-up abandoned tent, plus other materials lying scattered about around it into a faded leather travel satchel before making my way over to another spot to give myself an advantage on ambushing whoever they are.  

After hiding my newfound travel satchel, I've taken from the destroyed camp, in a hollow of a tree, I compose myself - like an actor getting ready to go out onto stage - making sure a dagger is on hand just in case who's approaching where I'm now located turn out to hostile.

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 Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid -  Early Morning

Asdalen's P.O.V:

"Mama.....Mama?!! MAMA!!!?"

"Easy, child, they will be alright." 

"Wyll, this....we should get them back to the Grove."

"Are you sure, Dammon?"

"Positive."

Fluttering my eyes open at the sound of voices, at first see a blurred vision of someone leaning over before it finally clears revealing to Tiefling standing with Lesia beside him that scramble upwards to hug her little fae-body close to me – hearing her wailing into my chest – reassuring her I’m here for her and everything is going be alright.

“Umm, is this your mask?” the Tiefling asks, holding out the fine carved mask it forces me to quickly snatch it off them to slip it back on – whether they had seen what my face actually looked like, I prayed they hadn’t seen it – finding my heart-rate which had sped up return to a normal beat.

“Yes. Thank you.” I reply, getting up only for sudden, intense pulsating wave to hit me – something within my head begins to wriggle uncontrollably like it had sensed something – noticing the other person, who carries a blade on their person is gripping their head with one hand.

“Dammit, have you got a tadpole as well…haven’t you!!!?” they state, unsheathing their sword to point the sharp point at me finding myself wanting to hiss and bare my fangs at them – the other, unknown half of me threatening should slit their throat, rip out their spine and spread their entrails everywhere – but a sudden sound of fighting from somewhere close-by reaches us.

Getting up, I hand Lesia over to the Tiefling who takes her into the Grove leaving me and Dammon’s companion to head off to source of the fighting.

Whoever is fighting it sounded like they really needed more help from the number of magical explosions causing the air to tingle with the equivalent of electricity forming during a lightning storm.

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 Location – River Chionthar, the Ravaged Beach - Destroyed Nautiloid - Approaching Mid-Morning

Astarion’s P.O.V:

“Brother, please return us with us.”

“NEVER….I WILL NOT RETURN TO THAT CAGE!!!?”

“Please, Brother, let us help you….”

Hissing with my fangs bared at my ‘siblings’ trying to crowd themselves around me - even though there for them only some shadows due to it approaching mid-morning - so can capture me.

The fact they had discovered me so fast, just makes things even worse. I finally had a freedom, I hadn't experienced in a long time - the feel of sunlight on my skin, no shackles to chain me down to cold stone-floor and hear any of Godey's nagging voice to annoy me.

A snarl draws me out of my memories, giving a muffled 'ommph' when the bolder of my 'siblings' chooses to lunge at me - risking burning himself in the process - knocking me over into the shaded area of the large destroyed Nautiloid where desperation sinking in to escape from them begin to claw, scratch and struggle like a cornered animal does when trying to get free from the Predator or Predators.

Crimson petals splatter across the sand, coating it in so much it's difficult to tell who it's coming from with my other 'siblings' coming over to help the one trying to subdue me. I would not let this happen to me, never would I go back to place where 'he' waited for me and would force me back into gilded cage to effectively trap me so never escaped again.

"GALE, OVER THERE!!!?"

A voice shouts, startling my 'siblings' who raise their heads to look at the source of the intrusion giving me ample opportunity to get away, scrambling upwards to the other side of the destroyed Nautiloid to back into the light, where stumble weakly to collapse against a cliff-face hearing fighting beginning to happen.

Battle-cry from the female Tiefling indicating she was of the Barbarian; a sizzling sulfuric smell of magic coming from the Wizard and finally, the third companion a female half-elf using her own arsenal to protect them.

My mind feels torn between choices of helping them or making a dash for it, escape to higher ground or just get out of the area.

Using the cliff-face for leverage I push myself up but must have stood up too fast because my vision sparkles in front of me - Idiot, Astarion, you should have stood up slowly and not rushed it!! - and sway dizzyingly to one side, falling straight into a warm, muscular chest with hands grabbing hold of my arms to stop me from falling. 

What they say forces me to look up straight into kind, gentle hazel brown ringed with gold eyes and face that oddly looks familiar - but from where I cannot remember - closely followed by wondering how do they know my name and why are tears running down my face at the sight of....this stranger. 

"Easy, dear heart. You have ascertain......I've got you....I've got you......Astarion!!?"

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#baldur gate 3 #astarion x halsin #emotional angst #slow-burn romance #canon divergence #Halsin saves Astarion #Astarion has trust issues #Falling in love #wip mode #Confessing about secrets #Part 1 - 'The Journey Begins' (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion Route) #Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - (3 of ?) #pictures sourced from various sources #additional tags to be added #fic snippet #Chapters will be either tagged Ascended Astarion Route or Spawn Astarion Route as fic progresses #Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight' #Part 1 of 'One's Baldur's Gate Fic Collection'

[unknownmusing]

Masterpost of One's Baldur's Gate Fics (including Crossovers):

List of One's Baldur's Gate 3 Fics:

'Halsin x Astarion Fic - 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' Series - Part 1 of 'Love like Leaves on a Tree in Dappled Sunlight'

Crossover Baldur Gate and The Witcher Fic 'When Portal Mishaps Happen' Series Part 1 of 'Baldur's Gate and The Witcher Crossover Fic Collection'

Karlach x Astarion Fic - 'Flames of the Heart' (yet to be typed up)

Zevlor x Raphael Fic - 'Kiss of Hellfire' (yet to be typed up)

#Masterpost of One's Baldur's Gate Fics (including Crossovers) #List of One's Baldur's Gate Fics #Post will be updated as fics are created and plotted out #baldur's gate 3 #the witcher