#anyway they both ended up tadpoled

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi!!! Would it be okay if I requested a worried head cannon for Astarion(Or Wyll or Halsin, I’m fine with any of them) where they lost track of Tav while on a scouting/stealth mission or on the battlefield? Thank you!

A/N: I went with losing track of their Tav on a stealth mission because that seemed the most anxiety-inducing… lol. Poor boys. Sorry, it’s not my best, I was rushing :( 

✧ Losing Track of Their Tav on A Stealth Mission ✧

Astarion: 

The most likely to panic, even though he swears he’d be the last to do so. 

He’s running all the worst-case scenarios through his head: you’ve been killed, you’ve been captured, you’re being enslaved just like he is…

Immediately jumps to the worry that Cazador or someone working for him has realized the two of you are together and plans to get to him through you.

He considers getting one of his companion’s attention but ultimately decides to continue sneaking in alone. He’s pretty good at sneaking, and the others could screw it up. He can’t leave your fate in the hands of someone klutzy like Gale accidentally casting fireball and alerting everyone to their presence. 

If he wasn’t intent on killing anyone in his way, he is now. They mean nothing to him. You mean everything to him. Do the math. You > Them. 

Definitely ends up compromising the mission, by either getting seen and alerting everyone or by causing enough chaos and death that people begin to notice. But none of that matters anymore to Astarion, whose only goal is finding you. Of course, if anyone else was to make that mistake, he’d chew them out for it. But he can’t see how hypocritical he’s being: all he can think about is your safety. 

When he finds you, he masks his fear with anger. He calls you an idiot, a fool- every name in the book. He doesn’t intend to hurt your feelings, he just doesn’t like how his affection for you puts him in a vulnerable place. He was terrified of losing you. The fear of that greatly outweighs the fear of the tadpole. 

He’ll get you away from there, away from everyone else. He can’t trust the strangers of Baldur’s Gate, and he doesn’t want his companions to see him this emotional. 

After the two of you are back to safety, and after he finishes berating you, he yanks you into a tight hug, refusing to let go. 

You tell him you’re sorry, and that it’s over now and you inform him it’s okay to let it out. Be prepared for the shoulder of your top to become soaked in tears. He’ll cry into you, telling you in between sobs how you were the first person in forever to see him as an equal. He needs you. You are the only one who sees him. He can’t lose you. 

After he’s calmed down, he’ll try to lighten the mood with a joke. Something about also being afraid to lose his very own privately stocked food source. Of course, you see right through the facade. You let him feed after that comment anyway, softly petting his hair as he does so. 

And even though normally while feeding, he’d be comforting you, telling you it’s alright, that it’s almost over- you end up comforting him, shushing him, and telling him the two of you will be okay- you’re not going anywhere. 

Wyll: 

Probably the most level-headed in his reaction, even if his thoughts are racing like mad. As the Blade of Frontiers, he’s learned how to think strategically in most situations. Of course, that’s easier said than done when someone you know and love is personally on the line. 

He’s figuring out all the possibilities, working out how likely each one is, in order to figure out which avenues to first explore. 

He continues on his own before remembering he’s not acting solo anymore. He’ll round back to where the others are stationed, and give them the news. He tells them the mission’s priorities have changed, and the goal for now is to find you. 

He doesn’t plan on completely abandoning the original job of course. He intends to get right back to business. He can keep both ideas in his head

Tries his best not to blow the original mission while looking for you. Of course, when push comes to shove, he’s going to choose you. The mission can be tried again at a later time: he can’t lose you. He’s lost too much in this life to accept having to part with another. 

If he has no leads and it's been a while, and he’s growing increasingly nervous, he might consider calling Mizora and asking for her help, even though he knows it’s going to cost him more years of servitude. Having to work for a devil is much more bearable when there’s someone you love. He’d make a thousand deals if it meant you’d stay safe. 

Once he finds you, he’ll quickly ask if you’re alright, before ushering everyone out. He wants nothing more than to speak to you freely, but he knows right then isn't the time to do it. 

After you are safely far enough away, either back at camp, or somewhere secluded, he’ll firmly but kindly demand to know what the hell you were thinking, sneaking off like that?! He wants you to know he was worried, dammit! He loves you! Can’t you see how much losing you would hurt him? 

He’ll take you into his arms and place a soft kiss on your forehead. You are so precious to him. Please, please, he asks, be more careful. 

He vows to be at your side for any future stealth missions. He loves how brave you are, and how much you want to protect him. Just let him protect you in return. 

Halsin: 

Halsin probably reacts the least because he has the most faith that you’ll be okay. He sees you as his savior- a savior of his people, of the grove, of the tieflings- you are the most incredible person to him. 

That being said, he’s not going to simply do nothing if he thinks you’ve run into trouble. You mean so much to him, of course he’s going to change courses and instead go search for you! 

He’s also going to rope the others into helping him. I mean, he’s not forcing them or anything, but he does regroup and tell the others of his concerns. He’s very calm and level-headed, but also quite determined, so the others have few qualms about switching gears and following him. 

He’s also the most adept at staying hidden while looking for you, being able to wild shape into an inconspicuous animal like a cat or a rat or a bird. He uses his druid abilities to his advantage, steering clear of confrontation as he makes a beeline to where your scent takes him. 

Once he finds you, if you yourself haven't been discovered and taken, he’ll stay in animal form, and carefully guide you to a reliable exit. However, if you’ve already been caught, be prepared for things to get hairy. (Get it? Hairy?) 

He will not hesitate to shift into a big-ass bear and rip people’s throats out as he carries you on his back to safety. Even though this makes him a much more large and obvious target, he’ll do it, if it means keeping you protected. Any hits or damage he can take, he can heal from, all the less pain you have to endure. 

He absolutely brings you somewhere outside of the city. He feels safest in nature, and in order to calm down, he needs free-flowing nature, which is hard to come by in Baldur’s Gate.

He’s going to squish you- even if you’re bigger than him. He’ll lay you down gently, before resting on top of you, keeping balanced so that you don’t have to support all of his weight. He needs to be close to you, preferably with skin-to-skin contact. He needs your warmth, your smell, the softness of your skin… It centers him and brings him back down to earth. 

He’ll voice his worries while simultaneously complimenting your skill. He doesn't want you to feel incapable, but he must let you know how he felt in that moment when he feared you were hurt or worse. 

You are his light, you brought him out of the shadows. And he can’t bear to lose you. Please, don’t fade away. Don’t leave him in darkness once more. 

...

Please Like & Reblog!!!

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #wyll imagine #halsin x reader #halsin imagine #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 #hc #hcs

[aerynwrites]

Perks of The City

Gale Dekarios x afab!Reader

A/N: this is based on an anon request I was sent asking for bathhouse NSFW with Gale! The actual request disappeared from my inbox but I wrote it anyways. So nanny, whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY! Smut, PiV sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on top lol, kissing, some non sexual intimacy as well, bathing together, fluff.

While being in Baldur’s Gate and closer to the absolutes hopeful end is a daunting task, being back in the city does have its perks. 

Soft warm beds at the Elfsong Tavern, food vendors instead of campfire cooking, and bathhouses. 

You’d lived the life of an adventurer long enough to become accustom to washing away the days battles in rivers and random lakes. However, the thought of a warm, steaming, tub makes a shiver of anticipation run through you. 

Gale mirrors your excitement, folding changes of clothes for the both of you before putting them away into a pack and hoisting it over his shoulder. 

“I never though the prospect of something as simple as a bath, would make me so excited. But when one’s been bathing in rivers for nigh over a month, well…”

“It sounds like heaven on earth?” You supply, taking his hand as you both exit the Elfsong to head towards you destination. 

Gale turns and smiles at you. “Precisely.” 

The trip to the bathhouse is short, since it’s so conveniently located near the tavern, and the moment you both are shown to the private bathing room you paid for, you almost melt into the floor. 

The room is much smaller than the typical vastness of the communal part of the bathhouse, but you find you much prefer it this way. There’s a few benches along the wall across the room, you assume a place for you to set your things. And separating you from the other side of the room is the one thing you’ve been waiting all day for. 

The bath. 

It’s absolutely huge, taking up most of the room. It’s sunken into the stone floor, water filled high and curls of steam coming off the surface. The room is thick with moist air from the hot water and a subtle pleasant aroma tickles your nose. 

Off to the right hand of the room you see a few shelves attached to the walls with towels, soaps of various scents, and even some small bottles of what you assume to be bath oils. 

An appreciative groan escapes Gale as he takes in the scene and you can’t help but giggle as he immediately tugs at his clothes. 

“Eager are we?” You ask, starting to pull at the ties of your own shirt.

Gale lets out a chuckle of his own. “While I may have fallen into the life of adventuring as of late, before the tadpoles I was ah…Let’s just say I’m not used to lacking the basic comforts usually afforded to me.” 

You snort, tugging your shirt over your head before stepping in front of your lover, taking over in removing his outer robes. 

“So you were spoiled, is what you’re saying?” 

Gale lets out an affronted scoff, faux offense evident on his face. “Wha-spoiled? I would hardly call a fresh bath every now and then spoiled,” he defends, dropping his arms as you push his clothing from his shoulders. “Most would call it basic hygiene, but I suppose to those used to living on the road it might be seen as waste of precious time.” 

You roll your eyes at his banter and you both shed the last of your clothes before you turn to dip a foot into the steaming water. 

“Well, time is no constraint here,” you say, turning once you’re fully submerged in the water to reach out to your partner. “I’ve rented it for the whole day.” 

Gale follows you into the water, trying and failing to hide his satisfied moan as he sinks into the slightly scalding water. 

“The whole day?” He says, sinking to his shoulders in the deep pool before reaching to take you into his arms. “And what on earth could we possibly do In the bathhouse to waste the day away?” 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, your hands sliding up his chest slowly before resting on his shoulders as your lips trail down to just below his ear. 

“I could think of plenty of things,” you whisper, tugging his earlobe between your teeth, his earring tinkling softly. 

Gale lets out a strangled sound, his hands falling to your hips, giving them a firm squeeze. But you pull away before he can tug you closer, smiling wickedly at his betrayed gaze. 

“But I’d like to bathe first,” you say, quirking a brow. “As long as that’s okay with you?” 

Gale is not a foolish man. He can see the silent demand for what it is. A request that’s not really a request. You’re asking, but you’re not. If he were to argue, the wizard knows you’d drag this out even longer, and he doesn’t know if he can stand your teasing today. 

He smiles, barely hiding his impatience. “Of course, my love,” he says, reaching behind him to take one of the bars of soap from the shelf near the wall at the edge of the sunken tub. “Allow me?” 

You grin and move closer to him in silent agreement, reaching over his shoulder for your own bar of soap as he moves his hands to your body. 

The next long stretch of moments pass in comfortable silence, both of you taking the time to wash one another in silent reverence. His hands slide over your skin effortlessly, scrubbing when needed but otherwise gentle and non provocative, even when he touches more intimate parts of you. 

In tandem, you take your time to let your own hands roam and clean. Hands sliding over his chest, fingers ghosting through the sparse hair there before moving up to his shoulders and then continuing their journey until you’re both cleaner than you’ve been in weeks. 

Eventually, Gale takes your hand in his own, gentle urging you to face away from him. “Turn around,” he says gently before urging your head back and cupping his hands to bring water up to wet your hair. 

His ministrations are both soft and firm at the same time. Gentle as his fingers card through your hair but just a little more firm as his nails scratch at your scalp. You can’t stop the moan that slips past your lips as he lathers your hair, and he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“You are so, utterly breathtaking,” he tells you, voice echoing softly in the small chamber as he moves to rinse your hair. 

You peek one eye open, smiling up at him before rising up from the water and turning to face him fully once he’s rinsed all the suds from your hair. Water cascades down your neck and drips slowly down your face, droplets clinging to your lashes before you blink them away. 

Gale is still gazing softly at you as you nudge him to sit on the shallow bench at the edge of the pool, bringing your hands up to tilt his head back ever so slightly. 

“And you are breathtakingly handsome, my dear wizard,” you say, voice equally affectionate as you move to return the favor of washing his hair. 

Gale hums in contentment as you move to sit on his lap, legs straddling his hips as you wet his hair and start to lather the soap into the sodden strands. 

His eyes have fallen closed as you run your fingers through his hair, scrubbbung gently at his scalp before moving down the length of his brown locks.

You take this moment when he’s not watching to let your eyes wander. Starting at his strong brow before traveling down to where his lashes flutter against his cheek in silent content. You admire the way his lips part slightly, letting soft sighs escape as your nails scratch lightly at his scalp. 

Your eyes travel lower still, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Eventually, your gaze is called to the inky black lines embedded in his skin, tracing the mark down until it settles on the flaming orb on his chest. Your fingers still against his temples as you lean down to press a feather light kiss to the mark, smiling against his skin as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Hmm…don’t start something you don’t intend to finish, my love,” Gale says lowly, eyes still closed when you glance up at him. 

You hum quietly in response, sitting up straight as you rinse his hair, moving to grind your hips into his firmly. 

“Who says I don’t intend to finish?” 

Gale's eyes snap open as you roll your hips into his own, fingers digging into your pliant flesh even deeper, sure to leave marks behind come the evening. 

You can feel him grow hard against you, twitching eagerly against your inner thigh as you move against him. A sinful moan slips from his lips and you lean in to capture his lips with your own, swallowing his noises greedily. 

Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, uncaring of the crescent shaped divots left behind in your wake. 

You only pull away from his lips so one hand can slip beneath the water to wrap around him, grinning devilishly when his hips thrust up into your hand desperately. 

“Gods…” Gale whimpers, hands sliding up your waist to rest just below your breasts. 

You let out a quiet ‘tsk’ sound as you tease him, your thumb running over the head of him before moving to stroke him slowly. 

“There’s no gods here,” you whisper huskily, leaning down to nip teasingly at that tender spot below his ear. “I want to hear my name falling from your lips.” 

The man beneath you does just that as you sink down onto him, your name falling from his lips in a drawn out groan as you take him to the hilt, your hips pressed against his own. 

His name also fills the air in the form of muttered praises on your tongue, the press of him so deliciously satisfying, as he fills you so completely that no other thoughts run through your head other than pleasure. 

You lean down to capture Gale's lips in a searing kiss as you slowly lift up before sinking down again, starting a steady but eager rhythm. You swallow the sounds that spill from his lips as you move against him, the water rippling gently around you both as your movements disturbed the surface. 

Eager, shaking hands slide up your sides before one wraps around your waist, while the other glides up your spine to settle between your shoulder blades as Gale pulls you impossibly closer. His lips break away from you as your chest presses against his own, another sinful groan escaping him as he thrusts up into you. 

“What have I done to deserve such worship?” He asks, words spilling breathlessly from him, as he looks up at you, eyes filled with wonder and lust beneath heavy lids. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes upon - and like a siren, you have captured my every sense - ah!”

You cut him off accidentally when you roll your hips, a sharp gasp of your own filling the air as he hits something devastating inside you. 

That taut familiar coil pulls tighter as the man beneath you holds you in a vice grip, keeping you in place as he begins to grind his hips up into your own with firm thrusts. 

His head falls forward then, silencing his moans as his lips press against your skin. He places sloppy kisses to the skin of your neck, tongue darting out to lap at your damp skin, the gentle action interrupted ever so often by blunt teeth nipping as the sensitive areas. 

Another rough grind of your hips has you gasping, arousal humming in your veins as you approach the edge, your nails digging into his shoulders as you chase your pleasure, and hopefully his own. 

“Fuck, Gale, I - I’m close,” you tell him, words coming out on a high pitched whisper as he drops his hands to your hips once more, fingers digging into the flesh there to guide your movements agaisn him, desperately. 

He raises his head, lips brushing your cheek as he whispers, “Let go, let me feel you.” 

His words are like a spark to dry kindling, igniting the already taught string and forcing it to snap as your orgasm washes over you. His name falls from your lips in a cry as your hips stutter against him, and he swallows your pleasure with his lips, drinking down your gasps and sighs as he finds his own end. 

With a few final thrusts he buries himself inside you with his release, lips breaking from yours as a satisfied groan escapes him, his arms going lax around you as you slump in his hold. 

The only sound in the room as you both come down from your highs are your quiet pants and the gentle rippling of the water as Gales hands start to move soothingly against you, tracing calming patterns against your skin. 

You both exchange chaste, loving kisses until finally, your chest is no longer heaving for breath, you rest against him, nuzzling into the space between his head and shoulder, as your arms slip around his waist. 

The water is still as hot as when you both entered, and you surmise it must be kept heated by some magical quality. Probably why it cost so much to rent the room for as long as you did. 

Not that you’re complaining. If you could spend all day in a hot bath with your lover…You’re definitely not going to squabble over coin. 

Gales hand ventures up your back before gently tugging at your hair, pulling the damp strands away from your face in order to place a kiss to the corner of your lips. 

“I think we may have sullied our earlier bathing efforts,” he says, voice light and teasing, as his hand trails back down your spine. 

You smile, and turn to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “Are you complaining? Because I can toss any further ideas I’ve been conjuring up.” 

You pull away from him then in order to take in the way his brows quirk upwards in silent question as he shakes his head. 

“Not a complaint,” he assures you. “Just an observation. However, now my mind is far from the thought of cleanliness as i'm much more concerned with what other…ideas are running through that head of yours, and whether they're as devious as the stunt you just pulled.” 

You chuckle at him, reaching up to cradle his face in your hands, fingers tracing the faint lines of his orb markings that trail just beneath his eye. 

“If you think that was devious…” you click your tongue in mock disbelief. “I fear you may not know me at all, Gale.” 

You emphasize your words as you grind your hips down into his own again, smiling at the strangled sound he tries to hold back, feeling him twitch eagerly from where he’s still nestled inside you. 

You lean in, lips ghosting over his own as your hands slide back to tangle in his hair.

“I paid good money for this room. And I don’t plan to waste it.” 

Gale smiles, mischief sparking in his eyes he moves swiftly. He’s standing before you can blink, spinning you around to place you on the edge of the tub, leaning forward until your back hits the chilled stone. 

You shiver as his lips ghost over your jaw and down even further to press teasingly above your breasts. 

“Neither do I.” 

Your breath stutters, and you can’t help but smile. 

Yes…the city most definitely has its perks. 

#gale x reader #bg3 gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale bg3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[inkyquince]

anyway, durge having weird ritual blood sex with gortash. Shout out to @angrelysimpping who sent the prompt from the sex magic book they were reading because we're both insane.

characters. lord enver gortash :3

content warning. dark urge reader. pre-tadpole era. gortash being viciously down bad, because he's very willing to have sex with durge while they're covered in blood and being watched by the cultists. exhibitionism. blood play. gore mention, along with murder. 2.6k words.

"Howerever, he also added a powerful dose of Tantrism by suggesting that magical work should be conducted in the nude, with the ritual use of a flail, and that rites should be led by a High Priest and High Priestess who would literally or symbolically couple at the climax of certain rituals." The Book Of English Magic, Carr-Gomm. P. 

Gortash was not one to be summoned. Summoned, sent for, demanded to show up with haste at the whim of someone else. While he might schmooze with the Duke and hastily head over when Ravengard demands him to come talk, he is a man not to be controlled and demanded things of. 

But you always were such a delicious thorn in his side. While others, like Thorm, would try to pry it out, getting their fingers bloodied as they struggled to grip onto it, Gortash relished the sting that came with every movement. The ache, the soreness of the skin struggling to reject the barb, the trickle of blood leaking down his side. He adored it. The cushy life he led in Baldur’s Gate had softened his skin, despite the sulfur of the hells soaked into it. You were refreshing. A tinge of pain that was inflicted on him in the House of Hope by the boatload, except this time, the claws that had raked down his back as a punishment had turned into something deeply pleasurable for him. 

So when you sent for him, he’d never dream of keeping you waiting. Your letter mentioned something about needing his help with a ritual of Bhaal’s, so while he was looking forward to seeing you, he was quietly hoping that you weren’t about to blood sacrifice him or something. It would put a damper on the plans you two shared. 

Gortash knows the path down to Bhaal’s temple well enough by now. He almost basked in it, enjoying the looks the other worshippers would shoot him as he made his way down, some questioning, some openly hostile and a select few viciously jealous. But this journey down was different. No stray cultists, whispering about guts and garroting. No weird little butler scuttling after him. 

Nothing.

Except when the chanting reaches his ears. 

The low, rhythmic voices, all whispering, all culminating into something strange, something wrong, something that makes the hair on his neck stand up on end. Gods, he really hopes he isn’t a sacrificial lamb here. He refuses to spurn an invitation from you, so he continues down, down, down, the chanting getting louder, louder, louder. 

Entering the main sanctum, he finally sees all. Bhaalists crowding all the stairs leading down to the platform with the sacrificial altar, with no sign of you. Just a deep, dark, pool of blood, big enough for someone to swim in. Even more worrying. 

His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The cultists were already parting for him to make his way through, and closing in behind him, barring him from exiting. The whispers quietened for just a second before resuming, even louder as he was prodded, like cattle to continue down. Before too long he stood on the platform, his palms itching. Just when he was about to demand answers, the chanting stopped, the disconcerting whispers cutting off into dead silence immediately. 

The blood in the pool quivered and a body breached the liquid, coated in a deep, slippery crimson. 

Fuck. 

Gortash always knew you were sublime in red. But you were completely covered. Dripping blood as you step out of the pool, you don’t even push away the blood painting your face, not when you open your eyes and focus on him. 

The entire room seemed to drink you in, your naked form, glazed with the very essence your father urged you to spill. It was only a few seconds of silence before the chanting resumed, but it was different this time. As if the previous whispering had been a chorus of begging, for you to emerge, but now? It was a demand, for the ritual to resume, for it to be completed, to taint the room further. 

All the air in Gortash’s lungs had stilled, but when you came closer, it rushed out all at once. Your naked form was always deeply divine to him, no matter how many times he bedded it. While he paid for his whores and some married ladies adorned his bed, he often got tired of them, seeing them as run through, and no longer exciting. But you? Fuck. Hells, even your bloodied, nude form was already getting him hard. 

“Sorry for the vague invitation.” You murmur, as if you two were at a soiree that he just got the invitation for. “Needed someone for this and I don’t think Thorm can get it up at his age.” 

Gortash’s lips twitch, but your bloodied fingers curling around his wrist silenced his snarky retort. Nothing to say, not when you lead him to the altar. 

“What-” 

You hushed him, pressing a finger against his lips and leaving a crimson mark in its wake. 

“Don’t worry. Just a ritual for each decade that passes. Better me than Sarevok, believe me, even if he has run out of his own spawn to give daughters to.” You roll your eyes but push him back, against the altar, forcing him down as you straddle him, staining his clothes. 

He’ll never throw them out. 

The altar was no soft bed, and while he wasn’t a squeamish man, the strong smell of blood was clouding his head. It was at this angle, that he noticed the cuts along your side, looking like marks made by a flail, even though the blood you were drenched in weren’t from your own injuries. Even the dozens of eyes trained on the two of you, there was a delicious string of excitement, pulling his spine taut and tight. 

Gortash was no Bhaalist, not when he followed Bane, so while he was no stranger to certain rituals, he was unused to ones of this… Variety. He made a note to himself that he should read up on them, just in case he was about to have a Bhaalspawn of his own somehow. Not that there has never been an attempt to baby trap him in the past, but this was… Different. 

You, naked and bloodied, on top of him with wild, dark eyes, the chanting of some, excuse his phrasing, cultist weirdos echoing in his ears. The only thought his mind could form as you dragged your hand over his lips, down his throat, was that if this was a ritual purely for Bhaal, he did hope He wasn’t aware that he was the one getting hard underneath his favorite spawn. 

But that seemed to be the point. You gave him a dangerous smile, blood slipping in between your lips and staining your teeth, similar to when you’d bite him during sex and come away with crimson painting your tongue. As per usual, you had no patience for his belt, instead opting to barely loosen it and slip his trousers down enough for his cock to spring free. Thank the Gods he had, a self admittedly fat, “pretty” cock. Though, he doubts if he didn’t, you wouldn’t have bothered with him beyond your first tryst. But being humiliated in front of the dagger happy zealots was not high on his list of priorities. 

His busy mind screeched to a halt as you slowly began to pump his cock, even as he was hard as hells. Your touch, even just a nudge or your fingers brushing, felt like lightning, like something otherworldly was deigning to caress his very mortal skin. Your eyes, so delicious and darkened drank in his expression, his slow, shallow breaths as you continued to practically fucking play with him, like a mouse under your claw. 

“Don’t tease me.” He murmured, low and throaty, just for the two of you and you just smiled your wicked grin. 

Instead of heeding his request, you leaned down, as if to press a kiss to his chapped lips, and he raised his head to meet your kiss, but instead of something soft, he felt your teeth bite down. Splitting his bottom lip and letting his own blood trickle into your mouth. Even with just a few seconds of your lips against his even with the pain of being bitten, he missed it the second you pulled away. You firmly pushed him back down, but the ache from slamming his head against the stone altar was muted, when you refused to let up on massaging his cock, the pleasure seeping into his veins like poison. 

“Fuck.” He hissed through his teeth, wanting to lean his head back and shut his eyes, but there was something deeply magnetic lingering in your eyes that made it impossible for him to ever look away. 

You yourself slowly grinded against his thigh, enjoying the way the Chosen of Bane squirmed like a rodent caught in a trap. Shame he was such a charming rodent, one that nosed against your ear and chittered oh so invitingly. Your older brother hated the scurrying little things so, he used to take you aside as a child, and whisper to you exactly how to catch them, and then make them squeal. But this rodent, with his nice dark coat and fiendish eyes, the one who squirms so nice in your hand? He seems a bit too cute to crush. 

Especially with the way he was panting low and hard, his tongue dragging over his teeth. Blood smeared over his mouth and chin, and his clothes were stained similarly. Delicious. 

“Just let me fuck you already.” He gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into your bare, bloodied thighs. 

“Oh, that’s cute.” You murmured, low and heady in the way he adores so, at least in his room with the servants sent home for the day. You felt his cock twitch in your hand at the tone. “This is about restraint. Submission.” 

Gortash hissed through his teeth again, but said nothing, just drank the sight of you in. You finally took pity, with his hungry, desperate eyes that you usually only saw at the meetings, with maps strewn across the table, as he talked about the plans for the future. It’s also a look that he used to give you when you two first met. Raising your hands to his lips and kissing the knuckles, eyes boring into you. It’s a look that grew in intensity each time you met, until the night he got you alone finally, dragging his hand greedily over your side as he leaned in to kiss your throat. You’d thought it would end up diminishing but it never did. It quietened at times, but he had the look of an addict waiting for his next fix. 

Finally shifting up, you pressed his leaking cockhead against your hole. Enver could feel it slicked with blood, but his mind raced with thoughts about you getting ready for the ritual, writing out the letter inviting him down as you slowly fingered yourself, lubed up to your knuckles and imagining him. Or Thorm, since apparently he was also an option. Thank the Gods that the sight of you dipped head to toe in blood was far more arousing than that intrusive thought, otherwise he might have gone soft. No doubt if you two were ever having sex and he lost his erection, you’d butcher him right then and there. 

No, just his cockhead slipping inside of you had him struggling to concentrate, the chanting beginning to rise in volume again. Gortash couldn’t even figure out the words, it just made his head spin. 

You just watched him try to breathe slowly and evenly as you enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you before you slammed your hips down, making him bottom out inside of you. His cock was your favorite, no doubt about it. Out of all the ones you’ve seen, flaccid and puckered in death as your followers stripped them of their belongings, hard and ready for the select lovers you picked out, unaware that they were bedding a spawn of Bhaal, his remained the best. Maybe it was because he was one of the few madmen ready to stick their dick in the God of Murder’s child, maybe it was because it was curved in a way that hit just right deep inside of you. Or maybe he was one of the few men that had the talent to back up their bragging mouth. 

Gortash couldn’t help but thrust upwards, into you, basking in the whorish sounds of your moans. Your fingers dug into the section of his exposed chest, beginning to ride him in earnest, as if there weren't the cultists watching without heat to their eyes, as if watching you do your daily chores. Wasn’t exactly a turn on, Enver thought grimly, though if you would just let him finally take you to the brothel and allow at least the prostitutes to admire the amazing work you two put into having disgustingly dirty sex. 

You rode him roughly, just watching as he struggled to look away from you, his own blunt nails digging into your thighs even more, as if trying to make sure to keep you there. Blood coated his cock as he thrusted up into you the wet slapping of skin against crimson glazed skin echoing throughout the room, the chanting drowning out your shared sighs and moans. 

Fuck, it felt too good. He was dying to fondle your chest, pinch your nipples till they were all sore and puffy and so cute. The only downsides that he could only be half sure that you wouldn’t cut off his hand for touching anywhere other than your perfect fucking thighs. The blood was slowly drying on you, the glimmering sheen giving way to a dark matte look, pieces flaking off. You looked fucking perfect. 

Gortash was clinging onto the edge, concentrating on not cumming before you did, but you wouldn’t be one of his favorite pieces of ass if you couldn’t see through him as if he was made of glass. With a nasty smirk, you leaned down again, mid bounce and kissed him right on the mouth, swearing the blood from his bitten lip. It was too much at that point. He was not some virgin who came from kissing, but fuck. Fuck. 

He arched his back, pressing his cock deep inside of you as he came, filling you up till it began to drip out, along your bloodied thighs. You sighed, low and soft, tensing up around him to the point the poor fuck was seeing stars. The chanting slowly eased off into the casual hum of conversation, as you slowly slipped the Lord out of you, letting his cum spill out freely. 

The cultists dispersed among themselves and back into the alternating halls as Gortash slowly regained his breath and sat up. 

“A little head’s up would have been greatly appreciated.” He grumbled, hiking his trousers back up and tucking his softening cock away. 

“And miss out on the chance of you chickening out?” 

“I’d never.” He finally sat up and watched as the cum slipped down your legs to the floor, mixing with the blood to make a soft pink color. “... But if I did fail to show, any particular person you’d have picked?” 

“Probably would have grabbed a random guy. Like the one who loves to skin people while they’re dying.” 

Gortash quietly made a note to have that certain one jailed for some other thing as you stretched and glanced back at him. 

“I need company as I bathe.” 

You, of course, would never ask him to give you company as you washed yourself of all the blood and cum, but who was he to say no to such an appealing command? 

#quincewrites #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge

[whaledenwtf]

Gale Dekarios X Sorcerer!Reader - Spin the Bottle

The Gale girlies of tiktok got their clutches in me and I want him. I already had my hands full with wanting Astarion AND Halsin but now Gale too? I can't believe I've dedicated so much time to PIXELS. Anyways, here's some wizard sex. :)

AO3 LINK: Here Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: Here

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Body Worship ( Female Receiving), Creampie, Oral (Female Receiving), Misuse of the Mage Hand Cantrip (oh yeah), Praise Kink, Spin the Bottle Trope, Angst too!!! Sorry

I try to keep Gale as close to his character as possible but the idea of even entertaining Mystra in the fic for more than half a moment fills me with anger. So I try to only bring her up during the angst.

WORD COUNT: 5325

The last few days... weeks? Have been awful. Ever since you met all your companions in the wreckage of the nautiloid ship (and evidently, the wreckage of any normalcy) you've spent every day exploring the Sword Coast looking for answers and seeking guidance on how to rid yourselves of the tadpole. During the day, the heat is cooled by the breeze of the ocean, but nothing can quell the stress of the band of misfits you find yourself surrounded by.

"We should head to the cre'che. You may be too far gone, too weak, but I need the guidance of Queen Vlaakith." A chorus of groans echo Lae'zel's words.

"All offense, but I do not want a githyanki prodding in my skull." Shadowheart tells her annoyed. You roll your eyes, bracing yourself for the oncoming fight. You've been around them long enough to know that the daily Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight will have to be broken up by you, again. Lae'zel unsheathes her sword and points it towards Shadowheart.

"Just because you are a k'chakhi, doesn't mean (Y/N) can't understand reason." You look around and see everyone look annoyed. Well, almost everyone. Astarion always watches the fights with glee, bright smiles and wicked intentions.

"Excuse me? What did you just call me? I'll make sure Shar punishes you greatly." Shadowheart pulls out her mace. You can already tell this will get bloody. You walk in between them and put your arms out.

"Enough. For gods sake, both of you need to relax. You're both acting unreasonable." You cringe the moment you say those words.

"Unreasonable?!" They both respond, aiming their weapons at you. You roll your eyes, pulling out your staff.

"Point those weapons at me again and I'll make sure to cast a Hold Person so well you'll be stuck here until you transform." Everyone's mouths drop open at your words. You were a sorcerer, usually kind tempered, or you'd like to think so. This has been the tenth time you had to break up a fight between the two in the last three days. It was sickening, and you were at your wits' end. Astarion giggles with glee, clapping his hands at your words. You point your staff at him too.

"I'll cast it on you too-" He pouts at your words, no longer finding the threat fun when it's directed towards him. "Now all of you shut the hells up so we can go find more answers on what to do. No more fighting." Everyone nods silently. You exhale loudly and smile.

"Now let's go." Lae'zel scoffs, sheathing her weapon and bumping Shadowhearts shoulder as she walks past. You turn away and lead the group forward, going towards the Goblin Camp that is holding Arch Druid Halsin captive; the druids in the grove said he may have information on your tadpoles.

"I'm afraid that I cannot heal you. These tadpoles are different, and have magic that even someone as experienced as I cannot remove them." Halsin tells you sadly. The group groans at the tall elf's words. After completely eradicating all the goblins and other beasts in the camp, Halsin is still unable to help.

"However, I was able to track that they are coming from the Shadow Cursed lands, and may be tied to the Moonrise Towers." This was news! Not as good as you were hoping, but its a lead! A start to an otherwise longer journey.

"I appreciate you trying Halsin. Thank you." You tell him quietly. He nods, his hand on your shoulder.

"I should be the one thanking you. You have freed me and explained what Kagha was planning to do to the Emerald Grove-" Astarion cuts off the Druid.

"Yes yes, we get it. We helped. Seems like we did it for no reason." Without turning your gaze away from Halsin, you wack him with your staff. After a loud thump and Astarion's "ow", you smile at the elf.

"No need to thank me, Halsin. Your information will guide us onward." He nods, frowning for a moment.

"Once I get back from ending the Rite of Thorns, I will meet you at your camp and join you on your journey. I hate to ask more of you, but I need assistance with eradicating the Shadow Curse."

"More help?!" Astarion exclaims. You turn around, ready to strike again, but Gale beats you to it. He does you a solid and wacks him upside his head with a large tome. Astarion flinches, complaining about his hair. You smile at Gale in thanks, who winks in response to you before you turn back to Halsin, blushing.

"I'm sure in ridding the curse we may find more information about the parasites." Halsin engulfs you in a hug, and you laugh patting his back.

"Thank you, little one. I will trek to the Grove now. You are more than welcome to join me." You turn to look at all your companions, some of which seem eager to go back to the Grove.

"I think we should, just incase a rampant goblin attacks you again." Halsin chuckles, before letting go of you.

"Then let us make haste."

At the Grove, you watch as Halsin berates Kagha. Afterwards you see Zevlor run up to you.

"We must thank you (Y/N)! We gathered all our gold so we can give you something for your troubles." You watch as the man pulls out a small pouch, filled with everyone's gold. You felt pity, as the need to do good outweighed any reward, especially one so small. You knew taking their gold would leave them only with the clothes on their backs, and the supplies they had.

"Oh Zevlor, I cannot take this from you. Keep it for Baldur's Gate. We are just grateful we were able to help in time." He shakes his head.

"At least let us thank you. We can celebrate at your camp and share our wine and food with you." You ponder this.

"Something to destress may be necessary, lest we hear Lae'zel and Shadowheart fight again." Gale whispers in your ear. Your breath hitches. Ever since you pulled Gale of Waterdeep from the collapsing portal, you've been smitten. Despite his very human nature, his soft brown eyes, beautiful features and prose had caught your attention. He was gorgeous, and your heart yearned for him, mind, body and soul.

"If I have to hear the word cre'che one more time I might gauge my eyes out." You whisper back. He chuckles, the sound warm and it shoots straight to your core. You make your decision.

"I think a celebration with some wine, food and good company would be a great reprise from all the stress. We'll see you at sundown." The group cheers, excited for some wine and relaxation. This seems like the first decision everyone agreed with. You smile at them as Zevlor walks away, telling the tieflings about the celebration.

You were already drunk off the vinegar-like wine, teetering on the edge of consciousness and depravity. You see all your companions scattered across the camp; some entertaining the company of the tieflings, others drinking on their lonesome. This won't do! Your drunk mind exclaims. Before you could act on it, Astarion walks up to you, smirking.

"Well, hello to you sweetheart." You blush at his forwardness. It seems everyday you spend together he gets more bold in his words and touches, but he isn't Gale.

"H-hello Astarion." You tell him, stuttering from your inebriated state. His cold hand meets your arm, and you startle, sobering up momentarily.

"Just a hello? I was hoping for a better form of greeting." You roll your eyes at his theatrics.

"And what would that form of greeting be, my beloved?" You ask him sarcastically. He grins, his fangs glistening in the lowlight of the campfire and lanterns scattered about.

"Perhaps a kiss? Maybe a night, with yours truly? I can make you feel things no man has ever made you feel before~" He grabs your waist and pulls you close.

"No things a man has made me feel before? That's cute, but won't work on me." You tell him, slapping the side of his face as though he were a child.

"Won't work? Darling, it's true! I will make you crave my touch~" He whispers to you. You laugh in his face, and he frowns at your response.

"You should go into comedy with such jokes!" He lets go of you and pouts.

"You're no fun." You smirk at his words.

"Oh I'm plenty of fun. You're just not my type." He is taken aback.

"I'm everyone's type, sweetheart. You're just lying to yourself- or your standards are quite low." You really can't entertain his theatrics any longer, your eyes already looking around for Gale.

"Alright Astarion. As lovely as this conversation was, I've got to go." You pull away from him, spotting the wizard near his tent, a glass of wine in one hand and tome in the other. You rush towards him, before your journey is cut off by Karlach.

"H-hey soldier!" You smile at the tiefling.

"Hi Karlach. Are you enjoying yourself?" She nods, her body swaying.

"Of course! Between my engine sort-of working for now, and the booze, I'm on cloud nine!" She tells you, spinning in place. You giggle at her theatrics, before stabilizing her when she gets too dizzy.

"I was thinking of playing spin the bottle! Now that I can't burn people it would be fun to play-" She gives you puppy dog eyes. You feel bad for Karlach, you really do. A victim to Zariel, and now to her infernal engine, you can tell she just wants to be hugged and loved. You hug her, grinning. She grips you back tightly, sighing into your arms.

"Let's gather the others! Can't wait for the inevitable Lae'zel and Shadowheart kiss." You both laugh. You let go of each other and rally the others. You manage to get Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion to join you near the campfire. Even Halsin decides to join, after you ask him sweetly. You're all sitting in a circle, with Halsin to your left and Astarion on your right. Gale is sitting directly infront of you, and you catch his gaze more than once. You decide that if anyone asks, the blush is not from the handsome wizard, but the booze. Yeah that'll work, you think to yourself.

"Can't wait to kiss you, sweetheart." Astarion tells you. You roll your eyes, taking a sip of a new bottle of wine.

"Get in line, fangs." Karlach tells him, smirking at you. You laugh at her words.

"Alright, alright. Let's get to kissing!" You smirk at everyone. After a minute of downing the bottle in your hand, you empty it and put it in the center of the circle.

"Now that little alchy finished drinking, who wants to spin first?" Astarion speaks up, smirking at your companions. With enthusiasm, Karlach shouts.

"ME ME ME!" You chuckle at her reaction, and give her the go-ahead. You watch her buzzing in her seat as she spins the bottle. It does one, two, three spins before landing on Wyll. They look at eachother, eyes wide.

"Oh shit-" Karlach whispers. The whole circle starts chanting, and after a minute of tense stillness they kiss. You all cheer, laughing and smiling. Then they don't let go, still kissing. The cheering gets louder,

"Oh gods, split it up." Astarion says, fake gagging. They split, gasping. Both of them are blushing, and you smirk.

"Had fun?" You tease them. They look away from each other, realizing the implications of their kiss.

"Alright, now Wyll's gotta spin!" You tell them, grinning. Wyll shuffles closer to the bottle, watching it spin until it lands on Halsin. You gasp, before cheering. Their kiss was quick, but you could tell Halsin was in control. He chuckles as they part, and Wyll sits back down. Halsin spins the bottle, and it spins for a solid ten seconds until it lands on Shadowheart.

"Now this will be interesting." Astarion whispers into your ear. You giggle into your hand, nodding. Your eyes split from Halsin and Shadowheart to see Gale watching you and Astarion's closeness with a frown. Before you could give him a look, you hear cheering. Your eyes glance back at Halsin, who pulls Shadowheart onto his lap and grips her tightly as they are kissing. Your eyes widen, lips parting.

"Oh." After a minute, they split, panting. Shadowheart stands from his lap, her legs left unstable from the powerful kiss. She fans herself for a second before spinning the bottle. It barely does a full turn before it lands on Lae'zel. You start laughing loudly.

"Absolutely not." She says loudly, already reaching for the bottle.

"Hey! No respins!" Karlach says, eyebrows furrowed. Shadowheart huffs. Lae'zel hasn't spoken up, just watching Shadowheart's plight with a grin.

"Fine. But watch yourself, githyanki. I will not hesitate to end you if there's any funny business." Lae'zel rolls her eyes, before pulling Shadowheart into a passionate kiss. Everyone's jaws drop as they kiss, all their verbal fights (and some physical, mind you) seemingly have turned into sexual tension. Lae'zel pulls Shadowheart into her, before pushing her under her. After hearing someone moan, you decide to cut it out.

"Okay, stop! Holy hells, if you're gonna do that do it in the privacy of your own damn tent." You tell them, grimacing at the sounds coming from them. Without a word, Lae'zel picks up Shadowheart and walks away from the circle. You guffaw, before turning back to the other companions, eyes wide.

"Um-" Astarion cuts you off, smirking.

"Alright! Since they left its my turn!" He claps, before spinning the bottle. It lands on you, and you groan.

"Come here, sweetheart." He whispers. As he closes his eyes, you give him a quick peck and turn away before he could wonder what happened.

"That was hardly a kiss!" He shouts, crossing his arms.

"Oh, boo hoo Astarion." You tell him, laughing. You spin the bottle. It does one, two, three, four turns, before it lands on the object of your attentions. Gale's eyes widen, and he freezes up.

"Pucker up wizard, it'll be done before you know it." Astarion sulks from beside you. You crawl towards him, blush deepening. When you get into his personal space, you sit down on your haunches and get comfortable. His hand goes to the side of your face, while the other goes to your waist. Your arms wrap around his neck and you meet in the middle.

This kiss was unlike any other you had in your life. The world around you disappeared, sounds muffled. All you could feel was Gale and his magical essence. You became tuned to one another, magic flowing freely between you both. His hands move around, the one on your hip going to the small of your back and pulling you closer, as the one that was holding your face goes to the back of your neck to hold you to him. Your lips open when his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Your tongues battle for dominance, and you moan into his mouth. That seems to snap him out of the trance, and he separates from you. You can see his deep blush, and he gets up and runs off. Your eyes follow him, and you furrow your brows.

"If he ran away because of your kissing skills, maybe I should be grateful you only gave me a peck." Astarion says. Your eyes snap back to his.

"My kissing isn't the problem. I'll go check on him." You get up, dusting the dirt off your legs and walking towards his tent. When you turn around, to glance at your companions, you see Karlach and Wyll cheering on Astarion and Halsin as they kiss. You roll your eyes and look forward, going into a jog so you could reach Gale's tent sooner.

When you get to his tent, you cough outside so he can hear you. You hear him mutter a "come in" so you enter slowly. When you enter his tent, your eyes widen. Its larger on the inside, and looks homely. There are towers of tomes and books, some old and some new, and your eyes are taking in the beauty of the bigger-on-the-inside tent that reflects Gale's personality. When your eyes stop wandering, you notice Gale sitting on the edge of his large bed, hands holding his head as he sits dejected.

"I wanted to check in on you." You tell him quietly, walking closer to him. He sighs, and looks up at you.

"I'm sorry-" You reach him in two short strides, and kneel so you are below him. His eyes follow your movements, and you see the sorrow and sadness lurking in his beautiful brown eyes.

"You never need to apologize to me Gale. Are you okay?" You ask him softly. He sighs again, frowning.

"I'm not." He says quietly. You know he's upset, by the succinctness of his words.

"You can always tell me what's wrong. You know I care about you-all of you." You save yourself at the last moment. Now's probably not the time to admit your feelings, especially when he doesn't seem receptive to your advances.

"I'm just-" He exhales loudly. "You're not the issue here, (Y/N). I am. Everything I have done, everything I do, was for her. Now I feel lost, between the bomb inside my chest and the tadpole in my head, I feel as though I have no control over anything." Your hands gently takes one of his, holding him softly.

"You are the most talented wizard I have ever met, Gale of Waterdeep. You have control over everything, more than most of us." He shakes his head, eyes getting misty.

"You're wrong, you know. I have lost favour with my goddess, and have lost control over my emotions it seems. I just ran away from you and you still check in on me. Gale's Folly, I once named my demise. But it seems everything I do adds to my torment, and it affects others." You go to deny him but he cuts you off. He turns to the side, looking in the distance.

"I have always known my purpose, since I was young. Hone my powers, control the weave. Serve my goddess. The universe that was once kind to me has turned against me, against my reverence for Mystra. I was cursed, am cursed. In the deepest darkest shadows of my folly, I met you. A sorcerer who I respect and admire greatly. Now I am destined to lose that too-" You grip his hand tightly.

"You have not lost me yet, Gale." You whisper gently to him. His face snaps back to yours, his eyes searching yours for the truth. All he sees is your honesty and admiration.

"I do not deserve you." He whispers, shedding a tear. You wipe the tear away, holding his face.

"It is I who does not deserve you, Gale. You've been hurt, badly. I would never expect anything from you more than what you are ready to tell me. You must know how important you are to us, to me." He looks down at his lap, pondering.

"I've always felt the need to do anything to serve Mystra. Even sacrifice the deepest parts of myself for her, if she had asked. Many times, she had. But you; you ask nothing more from me. You give without taking, and I don't understand how you think I am deserving of your kindness." He whispers.

"Gale. You are magnificent. I care about you, more than I care for the others. Ever since I pulled you out of that portal I knew that you'd be someone I'd care for. Since then, all I've done is fallen more for you. You don't need to reciprocate any feelings, but you have to know how much someone cares for you- I care for you. You are worth much more than Mystra has ever given you credit for." His eyes snap back to yours, widening at your words.

"I did not realize-" You cut him off gently, the hand on his face squeezing slightly.

"I was afraid to say anything. I understand your trepidation regarding your situation. If I was in your position I would have given up long ago. But please, please do not think for a moment you are not worthy of love. You are kind, good of heart and deserving of more than most of us in camp." He pulls you into a hug. Your arms find themselves around him, squeezing him tightly. Your head finds itself in the crevice of his neck, inhaling his scent of old books and hazelnut; a scent you could only describe as Gale.

"I'm sorry. I do care about you, deeply. I have not felt such a way since Mystra, but sitting here with you now, I have never felt such acceptance and understanding. I'm afraid of what darkness the future holds, but it does not seem as dim if you are there with me." He tells you into your ear. You sigh, nudging your nose deeper into his neck. You leave a soft kiss on the side of his neck before pulling away.

"I'll help you rid yourself of the Netherese Orb, and then the parasite. You are not alone." His hands grip the sides of your face.

"I can never feel alone when I'm with you." He pulls you into a kiss, and the adoration he feels for you translates in the movement of his lips. You kiss him softly, before pulling away.

"I do not want to take advantage of you when you are feeling so low." You gaze at him, admiring his looks. His eyes, long dried from the tears, shine in the light of his tent.

"I want to be here with you. No advantages are being taken. Please-" He pleads, begging for you. You bite your lip, and his eyes follow the action. He rushes forward, sliding off the side of the bed and kneels in front of you. He pulls you into a kiss, desperation and need coursing through his blood. You moan against his soft lips, all worries and fears dissipating into the night air. He pulls away from you, panting.

"Those sounds... You're entire being... No magic can compare to your beauty." He whispers, his breath fanning against your lips. You blush under his gaze and words, unable to reply.

"I want to show you my love the way gods do, please let me." He tells you against your lips, kissing you again. Your hands cradle his neck, thumbs trailing up and down the column. You pull away again, shaking your head.

"I don't need magic, or gods. Not when I have you right here infront of me." He pulls away, a deep blush on his face. You notice that it goes down his neck, reaching his chest; as well as the tips of his ears, which are also tinged crimson at your words.

"Are you sure? I can make you feel things, see things.... experience things beyond your wildest imaginations-" You cut him off, pouting.

"You already make me feel those things, Gale. Can't I have the man in front of me? I am no goddess, and you needn't seek my approval. You already have it." He nods, before taking your hands and pushing you forward so you're laying against the floor. His fingers link with yours and pull them above your head. You're panting, breasts heaving and grazing his own chest. His gaze trails from your features down to your neck, then further down to your chest.

"Gods. Seeing you in such a state makes me reconsider if I am truly cursed. You're ambrosial." His face goes to your neck, peppering kisses and licks up and down. You moan again, your arousal climbing higher. Your hips begin to grind the air, praying for solace, pleading for his touch. He bites down on you, blunt teeth tickling your skin. You gasp out, back arching so your bodies are fully touching.

"Please, please Gale." You whimper, eyes closed and lips parted.

"What do you need, my love?" He asks you huskily, still licking and kissing your neck.

"I need you." You wail out, eyes watering from his teasing.

"Not as much as I need you, my sweet." With a wave of his hand, both your clothes dissipate. His eyes wander, admiring your body. Your hands go to his chest, caressing the hair there. For a moment, your fingers hover over the tattoo, before touching it with such gentleness. He exhales at your touch, eyes closing while your hands wander. Your hands go to his shoulders where they caress the tense muscle there. He smiles before opening his eyes, adoration shining in them.

"You are a goddess." You squirm under his words, blushing deeply. His hands start to caress the sides of your torso, going up to your breasts. His thumbs start rubbing against your peaks, the rough texture of his fingers making you whimper. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, as you look at him pleadingly.

"Gale, don't tease me." His eyes glace up to your face, as he lowers himself closer to your chest.

"Don't worry my sweet sorcerer, I'll make sure this night is magical." His lips take in one of your nipples, as he begins to suck and bite. You gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. As he worships your nipple, his other hand begins to play roughly with the other one. His empty hand waves, and a mage hand appears and takes both your wrists in its mystical grasp, placing them above your head like Gale had done moments before. He moves to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper under his actions, panting and arching into him. One of his hands trails down to the apex of your thighs, and begins to caress your core. You exhale loudly through your nose as you bite your lip, groaning. He comes off of your chest with a pop! and grins at you.

"My sweet, are you this wet for me? Can't wait to spread you open and taste you for myself-" His hands spread your legs as far as you can go, as he lowers down. You feel his breathe on your core. For a moment, nothing happens, but then he summons two more mage hands to hold your thighs open as he begins to taste you.

His tongue licks the side of your thighs, as he places open mouthed kisses on your hot skin. He does this for a minute, just worshipping your skin, and then he licks up your core. He moans into you as he tastes your slick, eyes closing.

"Ambrosial, just as I suspected-" He opens his eyes and looks at you as you watch him attentively. "I can't wait to taste you until I bring you to other planes of existence." He attacks your pussy with fervor, licking and prodding at you. His ambidextrous tongue works wonders on you, he spreads you open further with his fingers, as he brings his tongue into you. You gasp at the intrusion, hands struggling against the grip of the mage hand, wishing to push him further into you. As he continues to taste you, his concentration wavers and the mage hands dissipate. Your hands latch into his dark curly locks, tugging at him as you continuously plea don't stop. He chuckles into your skin, as he pulls away.

"I won't stop worshipping you until the end of the night, my beloved. I promised you magic, and you'll take it like a good girl." You whimper at his words, slick leaving you. He licks it up from the source, moaning into your skin. As he goes to take your clit into his mouth, two of his thick fingers caress at your entrance before going in to the hilt and curling upwards. You caterwaul at the attention, hands gripping his locks tighter. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers pistoning in and out of you. You feel your nirvana quickly approaching.

"G-Gale I'm close, so so close. Please-" You beg him, eyes closed. He hums against your clit as he curls his fingers curve upwards. You've hit your peak, back arching into the sky and thighs tightening against his head. You see explosions of colours behind your eyelids, and your body is weightless for many moments. As you come back from your high, you open your eyes to see Gale admiring your face; his fingers lazily pumping into you. You clench around his fingers as you pant, eyes still unfocused.

"O-oh-" You whisper, head hitting the floor as you close your eyes to try to get your bearings. Gale chuckles at you as he removes his fingers from you, tasting your spend on his skin. As your breathing gets back to normal, you open your eyes again to gaze at Gale.

"I want to please you-" He cuts you off, picking you up off the floor with relative ease and depositing you onto the bed.

"If you do that I know I will not be able to please you as long as I'd like." He tells you honestly as he licks his lips. You surge forward, capturing his mouth against yours. You can still taste yourself on his tongue, and it excites you further. Your legs lock around his waist and pull him into you, his cockhead bumping into your clit. You split from each other, admiring one another.

"Take what you want from me, Gale of Waterdeep." He moans at your words, and grasps his cock in his hand.

"You don't know how you affect me, (Y/N). Your words, your scent, your taste. I can't wait to take you and make you mine." As he speaks, he thrusts into you in one quick motion, bottoming out inside of you. You both gasp, the connection unlike any other you had ever experienced in your life.

"Please make me yours Gale. I'll be anything you want, do anything you want. Just make me yours." He begins to thrust into you, his pace rough and deep. He continues to hit that spot, and you feel your orgasm coming again.

"I'm s-so close." You whisper into his ear, kissing the side of his face. He turns and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix. You gasp against his lips, panting.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go-" His words bring you to your crest, and you babble as your brain short circuits. As you reach your peak, he does as well, moaning out your name against the column of your neck. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, the clenching of your pussy too much for him. He collapses onto you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings to you. After a moment, you pull him into a gentle kiss, savouring the moment with him.

"You are perfect." He whispers to you as you part. Your hand caresses the side of his face.

"You are the perfect one. I hope I can spend the rest of this journey reminding you." You tell him softly. He closes his eyes, smiling at your words.

"How can I ever consider myself less than when I am in your embrace?" You blush, pulling him into a hug. After a moment, he gets up, getting a cloth to clean your mixed spend from between your thighs. Once he deems you clean, he lays back down next to you. You spend the rest of the night cuddling, hushed words of love and appreciation to one another.

The End.

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale my beloved #bg3 #angst with a happy ending #light angst #gale x sorcerer!reader #gale / reader

[tadpolebrains]

I love your headcanons <3

I wanted to request one for Gale and his love on their first morning together in his tower in Waterdeep.

Ayyy ty! Glad my random rambling is enjoyable XD <3

First Morning in Waterdeep

• I’d imagine that the night before the first morning waking up there is when there would be a lot of emotions. It’s as you’re both getting there, knowing you’re about to have what is probably the first full night of proper rest in weeks that it sets in for both of you that… it’s over. There’s no more tadpoles, no more netherbrain… but also no more Netherese Orb.

• That’s what hits Gale the hardest that night. Because this tower is where he spent his prolonged time in isolation because of the orb, waiting out his days. There’s still scattered magic items around, dozens of books and random papers all over the floor, it’s… a mess. He’s a bit embarrassed about the mess at first, briefly considered trying to cast an illusion so you wouldn’t see it, but… well, you’d seen him at his worst already, hadn’t you?

• You probably wouldn’t have believed him if the tower was spotless anyway. Or Tara would have called him out.

• Regardless, when you two get into bed that night, on an old, creaky mattress that Gale swears he’ll get replaced if it bothers you, you fall asleep in each other’s arms. Gale cries that night, whether from relief, grief for the years past, or joy for the future, even he couldn’t tell you. But neither of you say anything about it. Just hold each other close.

• You lightly trace the place on his chest where the orb used to reside as he starts to drift off.

• You don’t technically get a first morning in the tower together the next day, because it’s past noon when you finally wake up. You’ll count it as morning, though.

• Neither of you even particularly want to get up at first. You’re warm in the bed, and for the first time in weeks there isn’t a need to force yourselves up. So you lay there together.

• Gale will mumble small things every so often. There’s no real order to them- for once, you have the time to make idle conversation without any looming threats over your heads. So you talk about everything and nothing, not even caring about what time it is.

• He idly traces patterns along your skin as you lay together, or lightly taps little rhythms.

• When you do get up, it’s because you’re both hungry. Though Gale does offer to get up to make ‘breakfast’ (it’s well into the afternoon at that point) and bring it to you in bed, he also just doesn’t want to let go of you. So you end up standing there, arms slung around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder as he cooks.

• You might distract him a few times, pressing lazy kisses to his cheeks, his neck. Breakfast ends up a little burnt. It’s perfect, though.

• Once you two decide to actually function, he gives you the ‘grand tour,’ which consists mostly of him pointing out random magical trinkets or going on long-winded rants about some of the books strewn about. If any of the books seem to catch your attention, he puts them in a designated pile so you can find them later.

• It isn’t long before you’ve both just settled back down again, whether on a couch or just getting back into the bed. Gale picks up one of the books from the pile and starts reading it aloud to you, Tara coming over to curl up at his feet.

• You drift off to sleep that night to the soft sound of his voice filling the air like a lullaby, feeling a gentle kiss on your forehead as you slip off, and a murmured “goodnight, my love.”

#gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 hcs #bg3 headcanons #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #give me domestic wizard life please #askbox #tadthoughts

[thot-writes]

MORE WEREWOLF X VAMPIRE FICS!! *slams fists on the table* I DEMAND MORE WEREWOLF X VAMPIRE FICS!!!!

how astarion would treat his werewolf gf (SFW);

Astarion is not as surprised as one might’ve expected him to be. he’s likely had a lot of experience with lycanthropes of all kinds through Cazador (that bitch)

when you’re revealed to be a werewolf, the cogs in his mind are already turning for suggestive jokes he can make about it

you actually hear him (thanks to your superior hearing) in front of his tent mumbling them to himself as he workshops them

“‘Every good dog deserves a bone…’ hm… no, that sounds too seedy. Maybe… ‘if you’re a good little pup I’ll give you a… treat’? Gods, why is this so much harder than I thought?”

you have to cover your mouth to stop your hideous snickering. hearing his process on his meticulously crafted persona is simply too cute

you always end up turning the lines back onto him anyways. after all, if you’re the dog but he’s the one on all fours and begging, what does that make him?

astarion is a little disappointed that you can never wear silver, and he tells you so. it burns you to the touch, but also it would look so good on your gorgeous skin— isn’t a little bit of pain worth it for the fashion?

you throw garlic cloves at him for suggesting it. luckily for him the tadpole negates what damage that would normally do.

loves the bloodthirst. he’ll cheer you on when you’re getting worked up & rabid during battles

occasionally you’ll have bouts where all you crave is extreme violence. it’s quite manageable, they normally only happen when a full moon is close or when you’re in the middle of a particularly nasty fight.

one time, you tackled a man who’d targeted astarion and bit half his face off. you don’t even know why you did it, it just felt like the right thing to do at the time— and your adrenaline was running too fast for you to stop and think for a second

if astarion’s heart was still beating, he was sure it would’ve fluttered at that moment. seeing you defend him with such aggression was so… romantic

he had to resist the urge to pull you in for a kiss. at least while you still had the man’s face-skin in your mouth (did you eat it or spit it out?)

as your relationship shifts less from lust and more to love, he starts to express concerns over the darker parts of your curse.

astarion knows that while lycanthropy has a cure they’re often hard to find— and you’ve little interest in one at this point anyway. but doesn’t mean that doesn’t mean he can’t help you in other ways

when a full moon is coming and a horrific, agonising transformation is upon you, astarion stays by your side and tries to alleviate the pain by showing you have his support

after attempts of trying stronger and stronger pain-killing elixirs failed to make much of a difference, he decided that perhaps just being there with you was the better option

he’s by your side and resting your head on his lap, stroking your hair and offering the occasional word of encouragement

when it’s time to transform you get magically restrained and even still, he remains. sometimes he passes the hours with reading or embroidery, sometimes he tries to talk with you to see if you’re still in there

he hopes by doing this that you’ll learn to retain some control over yourself and you won’t need to be restrained each full moon. and it’s kind of working! once, he managed to calm you down enough to give you a little pat on the head— and that’s enough proof for him that you can best the beast

you’re not entirely sure if you believe him when he tells you that though

and as if astarion needed yet another reason to hate the gur, now he has one.

as a monster, they’ll be just as likely to hunt you. he won’t let them.

even if you have no strong feelings for the gur, astarion is brimming with more than enough spite and vitriol for both of you.

honestly, being a werewolf has made you two even closer than before. you can relate on certain issues now— you’re both bloodthirsty monsters, capable of losing all sense of control and reason, and when night falls is when the people of faerun should be the most fearful— for the night is your personal hunting ground.

astarion is very supportive of a lycanthrope partner (much like he is with a durge one) and will not judge you for it. when your control lapses, he reins you in, when you’re dealing with the pain of a pre and post-transformation, he helps you through it.

on the surface, you’re two fearsome, monstrous beasts that would send an average person running— but beneath, you’re two people madly in love, trying to temper the negative effects of your respective curses. for each other.

#YES IM A FAN OF WEREWOLF/VAMPIRE PAIRINGS WHYYYY DO U ASK #I CANT HELP IT!!! THEYRE SO CUTE!! #my posts #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate iii tav #baldurs gate x reader #reader insert #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #fluff #astarion headcanons #werewolf x vampire #vampire x werewolf #gender neutral reader #astarion #astarion ancunin

[chaoticbardlady99]

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 astarion #astarion acunin #mental health #actually adhd #and anxious #and depressed

[tlonista]

A whole mess of Astarion hurt/comfort fanfic recs

OK fine I've read so much Astarion hurt/comfort-adjacent fic that I should really put together an incomplete rec list. Be warned that with Astarion's canon backstory there's a lot of abuse and assault references of varying explicitness, so check the AO3 tags. I'm also limiting myself to one fic per author because otherwise I'd end up with several pages of Asidian and FlowerCitti. In case you're wondering, my personal contribution to the field is Seducere.

Ongoing Fics:

innocence died screaming by FlowerCitti

Comprehensive pre- and in-canon Astarion character study. Contains possibly the most heartwrenching post-Astarion-locked-tomb-era turn I've ever read. Very good.

Another Path by Asidian

A sweet Wyllstarion monster hunter x monster no-tadpole AU in which Astarion gets captured/rescued by Wyll straight out of a year in a coffin and navigates basic human kindness for the first time in a couple centuries.

Seen by ayvaines

Modern Bloodweave AU where Cazador is Astarion's cruel, controlling boyfriend and Gale is the kind D&D GM who's hosting them both in a game. As makes sense for a modern AU, it's a more-understated-than-canon take on Astarion coming to terms with the fact that he's in an abusive relationship, working out his feelings about Cazador through tabletop roleplaying, including some clever scenes dealing with the bleed of intense RPG sessions.

Heartbeats by LadyRagnelle

Canon-divergent Durgestarion fic where Astarion was recaptured by his siblings, memory-wiped, and then rescued by a team of companions he no longer remembers. A lot of well-executed (and sometimes surprisingly funny) angst around Astarion, charlatan that he is, trying to pretend he hasn't forgotten absolutely everything including how to be a non-level-1 rogue and have friends.

The stars began to burn by peregrinefeathers

Gale is trapped in fantasy nullspace and gets Astarion free of Cazador's clutches, after which they navigate an odd-couple relationship while trying to kill Cazador and pull Gale back into the physical world. Another classic "Astarion learns what human decency is" no-tadpole AU.

Memoir by IzzyIzGay

An Interview with the Vampire-style fic in which Astarion tells Gale about his time under Cazador, playing with that series' trademark unreliable narration and an unusually literal version of Cazador's creepy family dynamic.

Starved by neo7v

A modern non-magical Bloodweave AU featuring Astarion and the lonely degradation of a precarious service industry job! Only a few chapters so far, but seriously, it takes the "vampiric starvation" theme in a direction that's very mundane and miserable and compelling and it's one of my favorite recently started fics.

Unexpected Guests by Erandir

Another "get loved and cared for, sucker" no-tadpole AU featuring a non-Tav druid OC taking care of a lost Astarion who's escaped Baldur's Gate. Astarion and druids, the perfect foil.

Through The Night Dark And Drear by JJJSchmidt

Astarion is accidentally bargained off to an archfey by Cazador and taken to the palace of infuriatingly confusing fair folk magic! There's still a lot of story left to be uncovered, but I love the worldbuilding and fairy-tale premise.

snare by parsnipit

A Halstarion fic where Astarion never got tadpoled and the gang ends up rescuing him from Cazador, post-game, with his compulsions very much intact. Which leads naturally to hissing wet cat Astarion reluctantly learning to trust Halsin while they plot to take down Cazador.

One-Shots:

Quick Step by starkraving

starkraving's another person who could have made up a big chunk of this list, and this character study plays really well on the classic "how the hell does Astarion know how to be a rogue anyway" fandom conversation. My favorite entry in a good and growing series of Astarion-centered fics.

Gifts by Feena_c

Astarion gets caught by Cazador before the confrontation at the palace. Impeccable "Cazador doesn't realize Astarion didn't just come back to Baldur's Gate, he came back loved" vibe, as Cazador tries to break Astarion by taking away the gifts the tadpole gang gave him along the way.

What is Affection but the Absence of Cruelty by Aztec24

One of my favorite tropes is "Astarion tortures himself by obsessively imagining how awful these perfectly nice people will be to him," and this very much delivers. Featuring a rare two-Tavs-plus-Astarion throuple!

The Mimic by ForsakenFlyingCircus

This is really hurt-no-comfort, but I'm including it because it's a good super sad take on dehumanization with an awful Tav confirming all the worst things Astarion thinks about himself and the world, touching on the whole problem of sentient monsters in D&D.

Peel the scars from off my back by WitchyBee

A Spawn Family fic in the aftermath of Astarion getting Cazador's contract on his back - lots of antagonistic but grudgingly caring sibling interaction and Astarion being satisfyingly ambivalent about it all.

Complete Multi-Chapter Fic:

Just A Taste by NightmareGiraffe

The tadpole gang gets imprisoned at Moonrise Towers and Astarion accepts an offer from Araj Oblodra in exchange for their freedom. A very dark yet totally in-character elaboration on the canon blood merchant encounter, plus a cool dragonborn Tav.

The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails

A charming f!OC-who-isn't-Tav/Astarion longfic that combines hurt/comfort with het romance novel conventions, which I feel like is rarely pulled off.

And I know there's a ton I missed here -- god this fandom is big.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fic recs #hurt/comfort

[bladesmitten]

do you ever think about how Wyll's like second ever camp event is him getting tortured (put through The Torment Of The Hells?? drastic physical changes he did not consent to??) on screen in front of the whole camp and he tries to act like that was an okay and deserved thing for Mizora to do to him

During that scene with Karlach's confrontation, Wyll already knew that was something bad going to happen to him if he let her live. That's why he tries to rationalize it at first--"You served [Zariel]. That's enough to damn you."--and he still hesitates after--"You're asking me to trust a devil." But he saw the tadpole vision too, he knows Karlach is just a tiefling. He's been misled once again; he doesn't want to believe it, but the evidence is right there and he cannot deny that.

The thing is - he didn't know that he'll only get transformed. As far as warlock pacts go, he should have died or got sent straight to hell as punishment for disobeying orders. Fully knowing that possibility of dying or worse, Wyll saves Karlach anyway. Because it's the right thing to do.

In a way, I don't think Wyll thinks he deserves his punishment. His first line when you talk to him after is "Gods damn her straight back to Hells." and "I did what was right. And Mizora made me pay for it."

He has some awareness that he doesn't deserve what happened, but at the end of the day, he's still pacted, so he just takes whatever Mizora dishes out on him while trying to make the best out of it that he can.

Wyll also says, "It was worth the sacrifice," and that's pretty much the sum of his character. To be self-sacrificing time and time again. And maybe he thinks it's a sacrifice that he consciously makes instead of something that's thrust upon him without giving him a choice. Just like his pact, and just like everything else in his life. If he rationalizes it as a choice he makes, then he's not a victim, he's not abused or exploited. He's a hero, and heroes just have to make sacrifices for the greater good sometimes.

(Contrary to this, he does have a choice and it's a choice he keeps making, which is to do good things with his powers, rather than just succumbing to Mizora's evil influence. With his pact, he could've easily ran away and left the city to burn, and with Karlach, he could've easily followed Mizora's orders and killed her. But in both cases, he doesn't. Standing up to the devil on his shoulder is something that takes great strength.)

#ask #Anonymous #uhhhh this got long sorry #wyll #wyll ravengard #<- posting this in the tag bc god knows we need more wyll-centric posts instead of whatever the hell is going on in there #i also kind of misread this ask at first - i thought it was about the writers' decision to have this transformation happen on-screen #but maybe i did read it right the first time so uhhh anon if you're out there let me know #*

[tomurakii]

My last post about bloodweave was pretty negative (though necessarily so imo) so I wanted to talk about the little things about the bloodweave dynamic that I DO like and want to see more of in fic (under the cut).

- the orb means Astarion can't start their relationship transactionally. Gale can't give Astarion blood, and also can't have sex with him (and presumably would refuse casual sex anyway). How would the relationship develop without Astarion being able to rely on the give-and-take, forced instead to just trust Gale will watch his back? Astarion isn't a plans guy, I imagine having to come up with something on the spot (considering none of the other companions are reeaaaally an option either) would lead to a lot more emotional vulnerability as he tries to take a route he has much less experience with. Not to mention that the flirty and standoffish front isn't exactly going to endear him to Gale, who approves of the capable, loyal, and righteous. How long can Astarion pretend to be invested in Gale's wellbeing before it becomes true?

- they both have bad ascension endings, but different natural outcomes. Gale is considered the more morally upstanding one, but in their solo states (without the player's influence) Gale will go through with ascension and Astarion won't. Would they goad each other on? Gale disapproves of Astarion's ascension, using arguments that could apply to himself about the personal sacrifice and loss of the soul. Would Astarion flip them around, become defensive? Their dynamic could mean the power hungry character ending up discouraging the pursuit of godhood, or the two of them hurtling over the edge together. Or, maybe, Astarion encouraging Gale to ascend and having to trust him to return.

- they're the party members with the most life experience, and they're also both pretty well-educated (even if Astarion's law qualifications may well have expired by the events of the game). He spent his time under Cazador sewing (like Gale in his Baldur's Gate epilogue) and learning languages (of which Gale knows four). They have enduring common interests beyond their circumstances. Gale can help Astarion rediscover the latent nerd potential he lost when he died, and lord knows he would love to pick his brain for a first hand account of the mid-to-late 12th century.

- Astarion recently regained hope for his future when the tadpole freed him, Gale recently lost all of it. While act 1 is a continuous series of positive discoveries for Astarion (tadpole frees him from cazador -> ceremorphosis is held off by the dream visitor -> tadpole can be controlled), Gale's life gets worse with time as his treatment stops working. It's a dynamic that could give Gale hope, force Astarion to practise empathy, or put them completely at odds.

- Astarion's all-encompassing desire to reclaim his life could be inspiring to Gale. Moreover, I imagine seeing just how passive Gale is about his death would infuriate him. To have so little regard for his real, mortal, free life? It's a great source of angst, and also a great starting point for Gale to start wanting to live again. Because after learning about Astarion's past he would agree, he'd recognise how much value a mortal life was supposed to have. He'd think himself ungrateful or impolite for entertaining the idea of throwing it away when Astarion would give anything to have what he had. This would lead to guilt, and potentially self-loathing, unless someone was there to help pick up the pieces.

- If Astarion meets Oblodra before Gale's act 2 romance scene, (or for a fanfic plot, just before Gale is confident enough to confess) they most likely won't have sex until the graveyard scene in late act 3 (or the post-ascension equivalent). It means that rather than the fuckfest we so often see from bloodweave fics, the relationship is almost entirely a slow-burning, emotionally intimate affair. I'd really love to see that play out, the progression from semi-horny yearning on both parts as the orb keeps them apart, to two love confessions that are followed by the both of them experiencing non-sexual intimacy for the first time in years. I doubt Mystra was one to hug her chosen, after all, or hold their hands.

I just love a bg3 ship that forces the characters to take different actions than they do in canon. It makes me feel like I'm developing a broader understanding of the characters, you know?

#perhaps I will write a bw fic. since from the tags of my other post it seems like a lot of people want less-explicit work of them #and i (as the number 1 gale understander /s) have a dif perspective than a lot of bw writers (largely astarion stans) #im workin on a gale/illithid tav postgame whump based on one of my other posts first tho. which could be a chara study for him #and the nature of (this version of) bw is that it puts astarion out of his comfort zone more than gale. so id want to have a good handle on #gale so that the bw fic can focus on the astarion character study rather than me finding both characters kinda finicky #hmm. hmm #but regardless PLEASE PLEASE everyone is welcome to write fic based on/incorporating these and tag me I wanna see em so bad😭😭 #bg3 #bloodweave #gale dekarios #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #astarion x gale #baldurs gate 3

[meanbossart]

Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

#ask compilation

[dreamingofthewild]

I was thinking about the ways in which Astarion & Gale are mirrors to each other.

They both rely on the protagonist. Gale needs help feeding magic to the orb whilst Astarion needs to feed on blood. Both conditions can potentially cause harm to the player character.

Speaking of the protagonist, they are both desperate to gain the trust of the player character and use their respective skills to do so. Whereas Gale tries to make himself useful by using his intelligence and being of service, Astarion attempts to seduce you. Because to the both of them that's the only way they know how.

They are both the only characters who approve of using the tadpoles power.

They are on opposing ends of the morality spectrum but have the potential for change. Gale's desperation to live can cause him to be manipulated into following an evil character. Whereas Astarion can be pushed towards the path of redemption by the way of a good player character who respects his boundaries, autonomy, and doesn't play into doing everything Act 1 Astarion approves of.

They both have scars which are directly related to their abuse.

Both hide their true selves at first. Gale masks his desperation, self-loathing, and past mistakes with polite charm. Astarion uses arrogance and wit to hide his fear and past trauma.

They are both witty and capable of blunt, even cruel, honesty when needed. Gale's is demonstrated more in an evil playthrough. I see it that he always acts as the voice of reason in most cases.

Gale worships a Goddess whereas Astarion was abandoned by all the gods.

Both of their abuse involves coitus in some way. Astarion being forced to use his body to lure victims. Gale, although it is not explicitly stated in the game, intimately worshipped Mystra.

Despite their outward appearances of confidence, both Gale and Astarion harbour deep-seated insecurities and vulnerabilities. They both think that they are not worthy of being loved.

Astarion does not know how to love and Gale only loves deeply.

Gale finds beauty in everything. He is an emotional, highly empathetic, and self-sacrificing person. In contrast to Astarion, who has learnt that empathy and kindness only bring more pain. Who has learnt to give up on kindness and hero's. He thinks the world is a cruel, dark, and unforgiving place. Whereas Gale thinks the world is full of magic.

Gale's unending empathy and moral compass could serve as a stabilizing influence on Astarion's more selfish and morally ambiguous tendencies. Conversely, Astarion's pragmatism and survival instincts could help ground Gale's idealism and prevent him from being too naive or trusting. Their contrasting strengths and weaknesses could complement each other, allowing them to support and uplift one another.

I think they can understand each other and see each other in a way that the other companions can't. Even if they do not end up in a relationship, they are best friends at best.

In a romantic relationship, Gale is a slow burn. He does not care for lying, and I think he sees right through Astarion's theatrics in Act 1 because deep down, they are not unalike. This is why he does not fall for Astarion's attempts to flirt twice. Due to the fact that he was unable to successfully seduce Gale, Astarion acts slightly antagonistically towards him because he sees Gale as a potential threat. I couldn't seduce him. Therefore, why would he want to protect me?

However, Gale continues to protect Astarion anyway. From the Gur, from Araj, from their enemies. Not because he was seduced by Astarion, but because he is fundamentally a good person. Through Gale, he learns that there are truly good people out there.

Astarion is against Gale using the orb in Act 2. Through his brutal honesty, he would be the one to break all the holes in Gale's warped worship of Mystra. He would be the one to catch on and make him see their relationship for what it is and that the god's do not care for mortals. Chosen included. A romanced Astarion would not let Gale ascend to Godhood, especially after being denied ascension himself. And Gale is against Astarion ascending. I think Astarion would also be the only one to recognise it if Gale dissociates during a depressive episode. They both know what it is like to be isolated and condemned to death.

Gale, who would marry his love interest as a Mind Flayer, looks past Astarion's vampirism. He breaks down the walls that Astarion built around himself and gets through to the genuine Astarion. The tiny sliver that is still there desperately seeking redemption and tells him that he is worthy of being loved. He is worthy of a better future.

They do have the potential to draw into each others negative traits and make each other worse.  Astarion could push Gale to abandon his carefully maintained moral front, while Gale might try to drag Astarion towards a more empathetic path. And this all depends on the player choices.

The main difference is that Gale's conflicting motivations offer a more nuanced moral struggle for Astarion. While Wyll represents a clear oppositional force (good vs. evil), which can result in redemption or death, Gale straddles the line. His desperation and potential for greater darkness mirror Astarion's own complexities.

Gale and Wyll would be healing for each other and possibly better for each other than Astarion. However, it is the least popular of the three potential pairings.

Both of them are very compelling ships. Enemies to lovers, opposites attract, monster vs. monster hunter is a very popular tropes in fanfiction. The potential for one to act as a catalyst of change for the other, or to potentially destroy them (either in death or corruption) is more interesting to write about than a balanced couple who mirror how most relationships are in real life. Some of the most popular romances have drama (Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, etc).

Astarion and Gale can be redemptive or corruptive. They can transform each other or be each others catalyst's for character development.

They compliment each other in other ways. Astarion needs to reacquaint himself with his body, which involves not having coitus in a while, whereas Gale sees the act as the combining of the body and soul, not just a means of release. Gale falls for what is inside a person, not what is on the outside. But at the same time, he is not the heroic type which Astarion has come to hate. Gale is also not like any of Astarion's victims.

I have read many fanfictions where they both, in character, make each other better. Their intense need for love, validation, and belonging working well together. They can be content with each other. Gale devoting everything to his lover and Astarion who never had anyone care about him before.

They are mirrors of each other, and this is why I like Bloodweave. It is not out of character for either one of them to fall in love with the other one. But it would take time. They are a slow burn. They're not perfect, but life is not all sunshine and roses. We communicate, we learn, and we get better.

To understand the ship, one has to believe that Astarion can be redeemed, albeit only through a good person. Gale is a very complex and forgiving person who chooses to see the good in everyone. Who holds other people tl standards, which he does not himself. They don't hate each other. But they understand each other.

This, to me, is why the ship is popular. Karlach & Wyll and Lae'zel & Shadowheart are also thematic parallels who are shipped together. The nature of fandom is to ship characters who have compelling romances, different dynamics, or maybe just because they like both characters. Each one is valid. However, in BG3, any pairing can be shipped together by nature of the fact that you can play as an origin character and romance another.

Ultimately, when you play the game you are in control of the narrative and how the romance between the character you are playing and your chosen romance partner goes. The companions are complex, flawed, broken, beaten, beautiful people and who are we to say that a character would not react in a certain way in a given situation.

I realise that I am rambling and have strayed off of the topic of Bloodweave specifically and on to ships in general. But I just wanted to explain why I like Bloodweave. I am a Galemancer, and I am not particularly attracted to Astarion, yet I ship him with Gale due to the aforementioned dynamics.

I also ship Gale with Wyll, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel. I think Astarion with Wyll or Karlach is also nice. And I like other ships in the fandom. But it is the sheer complexity and naunce of Bloodweave, which attracts me to it above all else.

#bg3 #bloodweave #This is just my opinion you are allowed to disagree with me #this post is positive please don’t take it the wrong way #I am for multi shipping #You are allowed to ship them or not ship them #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale bg3 #astarion bg3 #dotw original #Ship: bloodweave #bg3 analysis #Bloodweave discussion

[mumms-the-word]

Illithid Souls - Part 1

What’s up with mind flayers and souls anyway?

I know this deep dive has been done before like a hundred times, based on all the Reddit threads I’ve read, but I feel like a lot of the "evidence" has been scattered about in a lot of places (reddit, tumblr, other threads, other socials, etc). So I figured...why not gather a lot of it here in one place?

As with all my deep dives, this post is designed to equip you with some lore so you can build your own theories and ideas. I’ll offer theories that I find interesting or feasible, but lore is always a little hazy so I’m bound to be wrong or you’re bound to interpret things differently. Just have fun with the lore!

I’ll start by defining what D&D calls a soul, and then…well it unravels from there. In this part we're going to dive into the lore about souls, the afterlife, and where mind flayers differ, along with a bit of in-game context. In Part 2 we'll look at individual case studies (Tav/Durge, Orpheus, Karlach, and Gale).

Buckle up, folks, cause it's a long one!

As always, I’ll include images and image descriptors/text written out in case the pictures fail or are too small to read!

What is a soul?

The entire game of Baldur's Gate 3 is heavily invested in the idea of souls. Raphael wants to bargain with your soul. Mizora has Wyll's soul bound to a contract. Cazador plans to sacrifice 7007 souls. Vlaakith consumes the souls of her faithful. Karlach wants to collect (and use) soul coins. Every tadpoled follower of the Absolute is called a True Soul. This game is OBSESSED with souls.

But it never actually defines a soul, does it? So what do the official D&D rules say?

Well...they don't. Older editions used to split hairs about the difference between a soul and a spirit, but those older editions also used to say that elves, orcs, and half-orcs didn't have souls, so...we've moved on a bit from those days.

In the game, a book on soul coins defines souls as "the sum of personal and magical essence," which is both helpful and vague. The general player consensus is that a soul is the animating "force" that is made up of memories, personality, intelligence, and (possibly) morality, and that in some cases, such as the spell Speak with Dead, a soul differs from a spirit, which merely "animates" the body but does not actually possess the personality or the thinking capabilities of the deceased (though it may have access to memories).

Speak with Dead [...] Until the spell ends, you can ask the corpse up to five questions. The corpse knows only what it knew in life, including the languages it knew. [...] This spell doesn't return the creature's soul to its body, only its animating spirit. Thus, the corpse can't learn new information, doesn't comprehend anything that has happened since it died, and can't speculate about future events.

So there's a chance that while an entire soul is generally made up of personality, memories, and some element of active thinking/decision making/speculation (intelligence, for lack of a better term), the part of a soul that functions as an "animating spirit" is what houses memory. In other words, animating spirit (memories) + personality + intelligence = soul.

This idea of the animating spirit (memories) being housed within a soul, but also detachable from a soul, is important for later, so remember this in a bit.

Souls also have power, which is why the game is obsessed with everyone fighting over souls. Raphael, Mizora, and Cazador trade in souls in exchange for power. There are insinuations in the game that the gods want to stop the "scourge of soulless illithids" (Mystra's words) because souls are a kind of currency to them (though, trust me, trying to find a recent D&D source that clearly states that particular stance is a damn migraine of an endeavor). But Withers does say that souls imbue gods with power, so the game at least operates with that assumption in mind.

According to Withers…

We all know that Withers, aka Jergal, aka the Final Scribe, aka the former god of death, aka the expert on souls, has plenty to say when you ask him to elaborate on anything:

Well, okay, maybe he doesn't. But he does have a bit more to say about souls and mind flayers. For example, when he first brings up the topic of illithids and souls in Moonrise, this is some of the information he can give the player.

Withers: I shall ask yet again. Do illithids possess souls? Player: These abominations are soulless, surely. Withers: Correct. - Player: I'm not sure. Don't all living things? Withers: No. Nor canst thou count mind flayers among them. - Player: I admit I haven't thought about it. Withers: Thou shalt think about it now, and I shall give the answer. Mind flayers are soulless. Yet the Three amass an illithid army, void of apostolic souls that could imbue them with power.

A couple of things to note here. Jergal, the guy in charge of putting down the names of people who die and keeping track of where their souls go, is pretty clear that he thinks mind flayers don't have souls. But his last statement clarifies two things: one, that he is referring specifically to apostolic souls (more on that in a bit) and that souls imbue gods with power.

Souls give the gods a kind of strength. He brings this up when he criticizes the dumb plot the Dead Three came up with in his post-epilogue scene:

Thou sought to bolster thy strength by taking away the souls of mortals. But souls vanish when their hosts become mind flayers.

So we know that souls are a source of power for deities and gods because they imbue gods with power and strength. But gods only get the power of these souls after a mortal dies with their soul intact. If someone becomes a mind flayer...well, let's just say the natural order of things gets disrupted.

What happens when you die?

You see, normally, when someone dies in Faerûn (assuming they are humanoid), their soul travels to the Fugue Plane where it basically waits around until a deity picks them up or Kelemvor decides they're just going to be part of the Wall of the Faithless for forever. From the Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide (page 20 because I am, as youtuber Swoop says in her docs, a thorough bitch):

The Afterlife Most humans believe the souls of the recently deceased are spirited away to the Fugue Plane, where they wander the great City of Judgment, often unaware they are dead. The servants of the gods come to collect such souls and, if they are worthy, they are taken to their awaited afterlife in the deity's domain. Occasionally, the faithful are sent back to be reborn into the world to finish work that was left undone.

This is where the idea of apostolic souls comes in. Apostolic, in its most basic definition, means "having the characteristics of an apostle," or having the characteristics of someone who dedicates their entire lives to the teaching of a particular religious figure (in our context and reality, this mostly means the apostles of Christ, but in BG3 it would refer to any deity). I think here, the definition gets stretched a little thinner to mean any soul that is capable of devotion to a deity, rather than a soul that is already devoted. Apostolic souls can be Faithful, Faithless, or False (which is how souls are separated in the Fugue Plane).

In other words, an apostolic soul is a humanoid-specific soul that the deities recognize and can use as a source of power by inviting said soul into their domain. Mind flayers do not have apostolic souls. Emphasis on apostolic here, but we'll back to mind flayers in a minute. For now, let's look at the Faithless and False souls.

Souls that are unclaimed by the servants of the gods are judged by Kelemvor, who decides the fate of each one. Some are charged with serving as guides for other lost souls, while others are transformed into squirming larvae and cast into the dust. The truly false and faithless are mortared into the Wall of the Faithless, the great barrier that bounds the City of the Dead, where their souls slowly dissolve and begin to become part of the stuff of the Wall itself.

Depressing.

The distinction between a Faithless and a False soul is a little hazy, but according to the Forgotten Realms wiki, a Faithless soul is someone who never aligned themselves to the worship of a specific deity or who just didn't believe in the existence of the gods at all (think of Astarion, who outright rejects all gods). A False soul, in contrast, is someone who did believe but failed to serve their god or outright betrayed them (a fate that Gale feels he is faced with for being on Mystra's bad side). Allegedly all the Faithless end up becoming part of the Wall, whereas the False could get mitigated sentences, such as becoming guides for other souls.

Of course, there's nothing stopping deities from combing through Faithless or False souls to collect them into their domains. But it could take a while. Clearly, the more souls a god collects into their domains, the more powerful they become, but the gods are also not exactly fighting over the souls of Faithless or False people, because people can end up waiting hundreds of years before Kelemvor is finally like "guess you're part of the wall now." Your only option to get out of that is to sell your soul to a devil, which isn't a much better fate.

From The Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide, page 25, regarding servants of Asmodeus:

To those not so dedicated, priests of Asmodeus offer the prospect of a reprieve in the afterlife. All souls wait on the Fugue Plane for a deity's pleasure, which determines where a soul will spend the rest of eternity. Those who lived their lives most in keeping with a deity's outlook are taken first. Others, who have transgressed in the eyes of their favored god or have not followed any particular ethos, might wait centuries before Kelemvor judges where they go. People who fear such a fate can pray to Asmodeus, his priests say, and in return a devil will grant a waiting soul some comfort.

This makes me infer two things: first, that the gods are kind of picky about which souls they want to join their domain (regardless of what actually happens to that soul in a deity's domain, which is a topic for a different post entirely, because the results may vary) and therefore the gods aren't just going to go with any soul that ends up in the Fugue Plane. Second, that the gods aren't exactly in a hurry to choose among wandering souls, likely because the Material Plane just keeps producing and destroying mortals, resulting in a constant flow of souls.

We see a glimpse of a god's perspective on the influx of souls when Gale confronts Mystra in the Stormshore Tabernacle (in this case, when you play him as an Origin):

Gale: You're one to talk. How many innocents were you prepared to sacrifice if I detonated the orb? Mystra: Such eddies are unexpectional. Souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust. The Weave cannot be lost because we are unwilling to cause a ripple. And that is what is at stake.

She then goes on to say "With each day that passes, the elder brain threatens to become a new kind of god, its worshippers a scourge of soulless illithids." This is what's at stake. The loss of souls on the Material Plane.

The Absolute plot threatens that cycle of birth and death, of souls arriving and departing. But how, exactly, is the mind flayer plot a threat?

Well, for one, if everyone with a tadpole turns into an illithid (which doesn't have an apostolic soul, Withers is adamant about this), and then all the illithids kill all the non-illithids...who is making new babies with apostolic souls? And if there are no new fresh souls, eventually the deities will just also die out, since no one will be left to believe in them and thus their powers will diminish and eventually fade. It might take a few hundred years, but it still spells death for everyone involved.

The irony here is that it means the Dead Three gambled and lost even if their plan to ascend a Netherbrain ends with a success, such as when Tav or Durge decides to dominate the world by controlling the Netherbrain. Either the brain is destroyed and they lose, or the Netherbrain successfully completes its Grand Design and they really lose, because the only winner here after a thousand years would be the Netherbrain. Thus we have Withers taunting them in the post-epilogue scene by asking if they really thought their ploy would succeed.

Okay...so we know that mind flayers killing everyone on the planet is a bad idea because it means that apostolic souls stop arriving in the Fugue Plane. But what about mind flayers? If they don't have apostolic souls, do they have ANY soul worth eternal currency?

Remember, the only way to create more mind flayers is to tadpole a humanoid creature. Without humanoids, mind flayers can't reproduce. But when humanoids turn into mind flayers, they allegedly lose their souls. Right?

Withers says souls "vanish" when the body turns into a mind flayer. But this is vague, and thus allows for a few different theories. Perhaps souls move on to the Fugue Plane while the person-turned-mind-flayer continues existing on the Material Plane. Perhaps the soul just becomes obscured and unrecognizable by the gods. Or perhaps the soul really does go poof and is replaced by something else entirely.

So which is it? Well...first of all, let's set the record straight on mind flayer souls.

Do mind flayers have souls?

The short answer is...yes. They just don't have apostolic souls.

According to Volo's Guide to Monsters (page 80 for those looking through their copies at home):

Illithids acknowledge the existence of divine entities, but it is unusual for any but a deviant mind flayer to actively worship such a power. Since they are capable of planar travel, illithids don't view the afterlife and the Outer Planes in the mythic way that most other races do. Illithids don't believe they possess souls whose eternal fate is governed by the gods. Instead, when a mind flayer's brain is returned to the elder brain to be consumed, the creature's intelligence lives on. Only if an illithid's brain isn't retrieved after death would its consciousness be cast into oblivion.

And on page 72:

An elder brain has a perfect recollection of its race's history. Consequently, it views itself as both a refugee and a victim, forced into hiding by barbaric monsters. An elder brain also sees itself as a savior of the mind flayer race and a living memorial that preserves the memories of the mind flayers' prey. By its twisted logic, humanoids whose brains are devoured by the colony are rendered immortal, their memories preserved forever in the elder brain's labyrinthine mind. When a mind flayer grows old, becomes infirm, or is previously injured, the elder brain absorbs it—another form of immortality, as the mind flayer's mind dwells within the hive mind forever after.

So essentially, mind flayers do have a soul, but because they are a) not humanoid but are aberrations from another plane, and b) not faithful to the deities of Faerûn, their souls are not recognized by the gods. The souls might not even journey to the Fugue Plane when they die. Instead, mind flayers give up their consciousness (their memories, especially) to an elder brain to become part of its eternal collective memory.

It's worth noting that Volo's Guide to Monsters puts emphasis on memory and intelligence here, but not necessarily personality. Mind flayers and elder brains do have a kind of personality, because they experience emotions (we'll look at some conversations with the Emperor in Part 2), but their emotional range seems to be a little limited. For example, regarding elder brains:

An elder brain is arrogant, scheming, and power hungry, yet quick to flee or beg for mercy in the face of a powerful foe. It has no conception of joy, sympathy, or charity, but is well acquainted with fear, anger, and curiosity. It is an intellect utterly incapable of empathy or concern for creatures other than itself.

These limited emotions suggest there might be some element of personality here, but it's not exactly the same as a humanoid personality, which would normally be capable of a wider scope of emotional range. We'll talk a lot more about personality and how transforming into a mind flayer alters that part of one's identity (if not their actual soul) more in Part 2, but for now, just know that a mind flayer technically has all the elements usually present in a soul: an animating spirit (memories), intelligence, and personality (emotion).

When mind flayers die, their memories and intelligence are usually consumed by an elder brain, but it's unclear if the personality is too, or if the personality is destroyed. However, if they're not enthralled to an elder brain or if they die and their brain isn't retrieved to give to an elder brain...then their soul is "cast into oblivion."

Being cast into oblivion could mean anything. It could mean that their soul simply wanders around wherever it died, untethered to anything but unable to move on. Or it could mean that their soul simply ceases to exist. No one really knows what happens to it because renegade mind flayers are extremely rare. BG3 has Omeluum and the Emperor, but other than those two, official D&D lore only lists a small handful of other renegades out of millions of mind flayers over time.

So now you're probably thinking, "Well, wait, but is a mind flayer's soul the same soul that a person had before they became a mind flayer?" And the answer to that is complicated.

Let's talk about ceremorphosis

Normally a mind flayer isn't supposed to remember much of its life prior to ceremorphosis. This is partly why mind flayers eat brains, so they can literally absorb the memories of other creatures and make those memories part of the hive mind. But initially, after ceremorphosis, it seems like the the usual animating spirit (memories) of a person gets destroyed or displaced.

The tadpole grows as it devours the humanoid's brain, attaching to the victim's brain stem and becoming its new brain. Over the course of a week, the humanoid body changes form, and a new mind flayer comes into being. The emergent mind flayer often retains a few dim memories from its previous form, but these vague recollections seldom have any bearing on its new life as a brain-eating monster.

So right off the bat, a typical mind flayer loses the memories (perhaps the animating spirit) of the original host, and it's likely that it loses a lot of the initial personality as well (since it seems likely to lose some of the emotional range). Its intelligence is likely altered too, since the tadpole is literally eating brain matter. So this could lead us to believe two things.

First, that ceremorphosis utterly destroys the host's body and the host's soul likely goes to the Fugue Plane because they have basically died. Their brain has been consumed and their body transformed, so in essence they can't be themselves anymore. Instead, a new soul has taken residence inside the mind flayer body, though where this soul comes from is unclear since tadpoles probably don't have souls. The original soul, however, is free to move to the Fugue Plane and beyond.

Or, alternatively, the host's soul is transformed, shedding memories and personality to become a non-apostolic soul that aligns with an elder brain's hive mind somehow. This means that the host's apostolic soul might be destroyed because it's been changed so drastically, but there are some parts of the original soul still left (the lingering memories, for example). This means the host's original soul didn't move on, but is tethered to the mind flayer body and has been changed into something unrecognizable. When the mind flayer dies, the former apostolic-soul-turned-illithid-soul is either consumed by an elder brain or cast into oblivion.

If the first theory is correct, it seems a little odd that the BG3 companions are so concerned about losing their own souls. If it would just be the same as dying, there would still be some desire to avoid the fate of ceremorphosis, but the companions seem incredibly concerned about losing their own autonomy, as if their consciousness will be trapped inside a mind flayer body and their souls forfeit and unable to move on to the Fugue Plane. After all, Withers is in the business of plucking souls out of the Fugue Plane when we inevitably die in the game.

Specifically, Withers can take a body that has been completely turned to ash and resurrect it with True Resurrection, a spell powerful enough to completely restore a body to its former state. However, there is some assumption here that he wouldn't be able to do this with a mind flayer body, thus the push in the game for a cure.

True Resurrection You touch a creature that has been dead for no longer than 200 years and that died for any reason except old age. If the creature's soul is free and willing, the creature is restored to life with all its hit points. This spell closes all wounds, neutralizes any poison, cures all diseases, and lifts any curses affecting the creature when it died. The spell replaces damaged or missing organs and limbs. If the creature was undead, it is restored to its non-undead form. The spell can even provide a new body if the original no longer exists, in which case you must speak the creature's name. The creature then appears in an unoccupied space you choose within 10 feet of you.

In other words, if theory one is correct, and a person simply dies when they become a mind flayer, Withers should technically be able to resurrect them by pulling their soul out of the Fugue Plane and giving them a new body. You'd have a weird mind flayer clone of you running around, but you wouldn't have to worry about ceremorphosis again.

(But then again, we know the game ignores the organ-regrowing properties of True Resurrection for Karlach, too, so the game intentionally limits the capabilities of True Resurrection.)

If theory two is correct, and the lore is extremely unclear about this process if this is the case, then the companions' reactions and dialogues make a bit more sense. They all talk as though turning into a mind flayer means their soul is somehow destroyed. Mind flayers having souls is likely not common knowledge in the universe (certainly no one in the game is arguing that they have souls), so if a person's soul is transformed beyond recognition it could certainly seem like the host's soul got destroyed. Additionally, this would result in a person's consciousness being trapped inside a mind flayer body, so the loss of autonomy would be a terrifying possibility here.

Plus, we know that when a mind flayer dies, the soul they have (whether a brand new soul or an apostolic soul that has been altered) is consumed or thrown into oblivion. So if theory two is correct, there will be no eternal consciousness for you, allegedly (though there's some debate as to how much eternal consciousness you have in the Fugue Plane or the Outer Planes too...)

We don't know which of these theories is correct, and the game sort of slides between these two theories (as we'll see in Part 2). But, and I cannot stress this enough, this lore only applies to normal mind flayers.

BG3 has altered the usual mind flayer tadpoles with Netherese magic such that things get a little wonky. And beyond that, the ultimate tadpole that changes you (or Karlach, or Orpheus) into a mind flayer capable of wielding the Netherstones is a Supreme Tadpole that has been further altered by the Emperor:

The Emperor: I took this one from the nautiloid. I have been nurturing it ever since - priming it for your use. It is not dissimilar to the experience you already had with the previous one. Only this one is much more potent. All you have to do is open your mind to it. Its latent potential will do the rest.

We don't know how the Emperor has been priming this tadpole, but if it came from the nautiloid, then it is imbued with the same Netherese magic as all the other tadpoles. It's not the same as the Astral-touched tadpole (from Act 2), which has been in the Astral Prism for millennia, but it is somehow more powerful, or at least more effective in transforming you into a new kind of mind flayer, one that can think independently of the elder brain.

So now you (or Orpheus, or Karlach) are a new special kind of mind flayer. Does that change anything?

Yes. In fact, it seems to change quite a lot. But this post is already super long, so you'll have to check out Part 2 to see what I mean.

~*~*~

You made it to the end! Gold stars!!!

✨⭐️🌟⭐️✨

I'll link part 2 soon~

Tagging those who wanted an update! @galesdevoteewife @stuffforthestash

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #mind flayer #the emperor #bg3 lore #bg3 meta #bg3 deep dive #deep dive #long post #super long post #yall the days I put into this #who let me do this to myself

[lendeah]

bound by duty, haunted by dreams

chapter 1

Summary: You hated him —his selfishness, egocentrism, and lack of morals. He represented everything you stood against. But then, why was he the one plaguing your dreams night after night? Pairing: Astarion x OFC!Tav Word Count: 2.5k Tags: Enemies to Lovers, they really hate each other, Human! Tav , Paladin! Tav , Mind Manipulation, eventual smut.

a/n: I don't know if I will write more of this or I will leave it as a two shot! I probably will. LMK if you enjoy it :)

AO3 link

You detested him. You knew your oath was to love every person, despite their past, despite their beliefs, despite... everything, basically. But you couldn't. Stand. Him. His very presence irked you, sending prickles of discomfort crawling up your spine. That smug, self-righteous smirk. His constant complaints. His utter disgust for all living beings except himself. But the worst of all was his horrible and overt attempts at flirting. It almost made you gag.

You could tell that he felt the same way towards you, judging by the constant sour glances he shot your way at camp. He would sneer when you offered help to those in need and make sly remarks after showing kindness towards your companions. It seemed like everything you stood for was the very antithesis of his beliefs.

At first, you thought you just had to get to know him. You can't judge a book by its cover, after all. But the more time you spent around him, the less you liked him. And it all came crashing down when you had the worst argument about the tiefling situation. The coward wanted us to leave them in the middle of the night! Oh, and rob them of every valuable in order to have money for the trip!

As much as you detested each other, you couldn't deny the fact that you were both in the same boat. Literally. The cursed tadpole had tethered your fates together, forcing you to work together to find a cure. And then there was the oath to Ilmater, the deity of compassion and endurance, which bound you to show kindness and mercy towards all beings.

Your oath did not include being spiteful, but whenever he was near, all you could think about was kicking his-

"Soldier, if you keep looking at him I am afraid he is going to grow another head."

Karlach was giving you a funny look from across the fire. You huffed in annoyance, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you sipped on the stew. The two of you were the last ones having dinner, as the rest of the party had either retired for the night or were on watch duty. This was why Astarion was also lingering around. You tried to ignore his presence, focusing on the warmth of the fire and the comforting taste of the stew. But your eyes kept drifting towards him - the source of all your frustration.

"Maybe that would make him bearable to be around, or maybe they would just argue with each other so much I wouldn't have to listen to either."

"Or they would end up tearing each other apart like rabid animals, competing for attention," she laughed.

You couldn't help but let out a small smile at Karlach's joke, the tension between you and him momentarily forgotten.

"I don't know how much longer I can take it," you grumbled, poking at your stew with your spoon.

"You know wha' we need t'do to get rid o' each other? Find a cure for 'is damn tadpole," Karlach mumbled through a mouthful of food. What was it, her fourth bowl of stew?

She gulped, "Why do you hate him so much anyway?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. "I don't hate him. I just can't stand him," you admitted, your voice laced with annoyance. "He's always so smug and heighty, so selfish. And I loathe selfishness. And the way he looks at me like...like I'm some kind of nuisance."

Karlach raised an eyebrow, her spoon frozen halfway to her mouth.

"Well, I can't argue with any of that; he does tend to have a stick up his ass. But, to play devil's advocate, he is quite funny and nice when you get to know him."

You scoffed at Karlach's words, shaking your head. "I highly doubt that," you muttered under your breath.

Karlach rolled her eyes, leaning forward to speak closer to you,

"Look, I bet he's just a big softie underneath all that... exterior. So try playing nice for once, maybe you'll see a different side of him. We need him on our team, even if he's not the easiest to get along with." Karlach reminded you.

You raised an eyebrow at Karlach's suggestion, not sure if you were ready to try being nice to him. But then again, Karlach did have a point. It wouldn't hurt to try, right?

You sighed, feeling a tinge of guilt at the thought that maybe you weren't giving him a chance. People usually liked you - maybe you just hadn't put in enough effort with him.

"Fine. I'll try," you grumbled, still not fully convinced.

Karlach grinned triumphantly, little flames dancing around her body. "That's the spirit, soldier!" she exclaimed, raising her bowl of stew in a mock salute.

You turned around and found he was still there, distractedly looking at his nails.

Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

He caught your eye momentarily, a slight raise of his eyebrow before nonchalantly turning and striding towards his tent.

It was now or never. Taking a deep breath, you bid Karlach a goodnight and began walking towards the elf.

"Hey, Astarion," you called out once you reached his tent.

In a swift motion, he spun around and gave you an assessing look. For a moment, his piercing eyes glinted red, causing a mix of fear and irritation to wash over you.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone polite but dismissive.

Ugh. You wanted to punch his face already.

But instead, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm.

"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said. Yeah, gratitude. Everyone likes gratitude.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at your words, but he quickly composed himself.

"Thank me? I must warn you now, if what you intend is to lecture me about my behaviour it will be all for nought." His words dripped with arrogance he made no attempt to hide it.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his pompous attitude.

"No, I just wanted to express my gratitude..." For what? What had he actually done besides constantly complaining and giving disapproving looks at your every decision? "...for staying awake at night to keep watch." Yes, that would suffice.

Astarion narrowed his red eyes and his lips quirked with genuine confusion.

"Why thank you very much, but I am not a child to be lauded for performing the most basic act of the task I have been assigned," Astarion replied, a hint of smugness in his voice. "Then again, I guess your whole 'selfless Paladin nature' compels you to praise me. You looked like it was about to tear you up to do so, I might say. It was quite amusing to witness."

"I'm just trying to be polite," you replied, keeping your tone flat. "Not that you know the meaning of it, anyway."

His grin widened as he stepped closer to you, his tone teasing, "I do so like it when you try so hard to maintain that decorum of yours. Though you would do well to keep practicing. Your good intentions do not excuse the self-righteous stick up your ass."

This motherf-

You gritted your teeth and resisted the urge to punch him in the face. He always seemed to enjoy provoking a reaction out of you.

"I'm not here to argue with you."

"No, you are here to bother me. Which is having the opposite effect of what I am sure you hoped."

"Oh, you are insufferable!" you clenched your fists, the anger evident in your voice.

As you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back. You wanted to turn around and give him a piece of your mind, but you knew it was pointless. Instead, you headed towards your tent and forcefully zipped the flap closed behind you, letting out a frustrated groan.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself down. This was not the first time Astarion had gotten under your skin, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. You reminded yourself of your oath. Ilmater. Empathy, sympathy and forgiveness. Ugh. It was hard, especially when dealing with someone like him.

But it was your sacred duty to show compassion and mercy to all, even those who seemed undeserving of it. You took another deep breath , composing yourself. You had faced way worse back home. This was nothing. Just an arrogant aristocrat. If he refused your help, so be it. You would turn your attention to those who were truly in need.

You snuggled deep into your bedroll, the soft fabric enveloping you like a cocoon. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes. Tomorrow would be a better day, you were sure.

As sleep came to you, dreams began weaving their way into your consciousness. Suddenly, you weren't in your bedroll anymore, but in the middle of a beautiful, glittering forest. An ethereal light danced around the tall trees and a clear stream ran through it, its water shimmering with tiny specks of silver.

A rustle in the dense foliage caught your attention, causing you to turn and see Astarion. He appeared like a phantom, emerging from your own thoughts with his white hair cascading around his face like a halo.

Great, now he is also hunting my dreams.

The illusion of Astarion turned around, his expression a mix of confusion and bewilderment as his eyes locked onto your figure. It was as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Well, that makes two of us, you told yourself.

"If it isn't Calendula, the noble paladin, sauntering over," Astarion said, his smirk evident even in the dark.

You cringed at the use of your full name, a jab that he knew would get under your skin.

"Astarion," you greeted him flatly. "I see even my dreams aren't safe from your onslaught."

His eyebrows furrow in confusion "Dreams? What do you-" And then his face lit up. A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and a sly smile spread across his lips, showing his pointed canines. What in the sweet hells is going through his mind? Well, my mind.

Astarion stepped closer, his eyes scanning you up and down. "Well well, I see my charms finally beginning to work on you, my dear paladin." You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "In your dreams, Astarion." "Ah but this is your dream, darling. And I must say, it's quite a lovely one," he said, dragging a fingertip along one of the plants.

You let out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't believe this is what my brain settled for in a good night of sleep."

"Oh come now" He said taking another step closer, his head tilted slightly, "If you truly wanted a peaceful, pleasant dream you would have imagined the sun shining brightly and a beautiful castle or a field of flowers or... whatever it is you paladins enjoy. But your brain, in the dark depths of the night seeks me and only me."

You scoffed at his words. "How do you even know what I do or do not want anyway? You are a product of my brain."

His fingers finally made contact with your skin, his touch icy cold and sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really just a dream.

"I am but a product of your imagination, darling. But exactly because of that, I can feel your desires, your fantasies, your deepest thoughts." he smirked, "And darling, I know that I am what you desire."

Was he? He was a creation of your own mind, therefore he was essentially a part of yourself. But then again, if he was a part of you, did that mean the words he spoke were a reflection of your own truth? It was all so confusing and overwhelming.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but steal glances at him - the mole on his cheek, the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his smile. He was undeniably attractive, almost too good to be true. It wasn't so far fetched to think your mind had recreated him. However, you wished it had made him mute.

"I don't desire you," you repeated firmly, trying to convince yourself more than him.

"Ah, and there is that noble pride again. Do you truly believe that your self-denying nature means you haven't thought of me? Of us?" He stepped closer until he was inches away."Tell me, have you ever had any impure thoughts? Thoughts that go against everything Ilmater stands for?"

Your heart raced at his words, eyes widening in shock. Pink lips against yours, teeth piercing soft skin, cold hands up your...

Stop.

You paused briefly before answering. "No, I follow the teachings of Ilmater which guide me towards virtue and moral uprightness. However, I am not bound by a vow of celibacy. I simply direct all of my focus towards my devotion."

Astarion's smirk grew wider at your statement, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, but it's ok," he whispered, "I know your thoughts. I have seen them, deep inside your mind. I know you want to know how it feels to be touched, to be loved and worshipped back."

The realism was uncanny, right from the soft fur lining of his cloak to the scent of him - leather and pine with a hint of musky sweetness. It was just like the real Astarion, perfectly irritating and irresistible all at once. His presence was intoxicating and you found yourself wanting to lean into his touch.

This is a dream. None of this is real. Astarion wasn't here. He wasn't stepping closer to you again; he wasn't bringing his face dangerously near yours; he wasn't placing his hand on your waist pulling you closer till there was no space left between your bodies.

You could feel his lips almost brushing along your neck. He ran a hand up to the back of your head, fingers weaving into your curls, his voice a low murmur. "Tell me, dearest, what happens when your body desires things your mind believes are wrong?"

You gulped, your hands fisted at your sides, "I-I don't know."

"Do you want to find out?" Astarion's lips grazed your skin again, sending sparks of desire through your body. "I've always found that when the body and the mind disagree... it's always best to follow the body."

Your breath was ragged, brain scrambling for a semblance of sense. You knew you were going to give in. It's just a dream, you told yourself.

No consequences, no judgments.

Just as you were on the brink of surrender, a sudden and sharp tug jolted you from your slumber. Your eyes flew open to reveal the familiar surroundings of your tent. You were back in back in your bedroll, drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. A throbbing headache pulsed through your skull.

Today didn't feel better at all.

a/n: hope you liked it! Lmk if you want to be added to a taglist☺️🫶🏻

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #astarion x you

[vigilskeep]

can i ask for a halsin hate rant i just find your distaste for him delightful

this ask cracked me up

anyway can we talk about what a let down he is in act 1. like i just think it’s funny how everyone in the camp talks like he’s some great leader or healer when he completely fails on both counts. the people he led immediately collapse as soon as he’s out of earshot and his own pupil and second-in-command viscerally and publicly hates him, while he personally on multiple occasions can’t abandon them all fast enough even when all they talk about is how desperately they need him back. as for his abilities as a healer, nettie has the audacity to claim he could remove your tadpole because he’s “ “studied” ” them. he a) cannot even attempt a removal at all and b) he has literally no additional information to offer. zilch. zero. nothing. even the bare minimum he has to say—which he holds over you until the end of the party as if you don’t have a parasite in your skull meaning your life and autonomy absolutely depend on it—is that we have to go to moonrise towers, which the dream guardian tells us anyway! and then he has the nerve to get mad at you when you even slightly point any of this out. it’s the fact that nobody in the game acknowledges all this that makes me crazy. like?? go home and do your job. why are you inviting yourself along. what do you do successfully. quickly. i hate ur stupid bicep belts

#hope this serves. i cant believe i have to go fucking rescue him again.

[janearts]

Has Roisia yet had those strange dreams from the use of the tadpole? Of the beautiful, elusive figure that whispers sweet nothings if only you would let it in? Of its soft touches as it promises a future where they both reach their potentials? What does her dream companion look like?

I can't remember my original intentions for her canon experience... I think it was that Roisia would be too suspicious and too wary to use the tadpole? In any case, Roisia would dream of Eustace, an unrequited love of hers. UwU

Additional details under the cut.

Roisia started out as my Source Hunter from Divinity: Original Sin—(another excellent Larian game that I would highly recommend, by the way)—and I'm continuing her story in BG3 even though it's a completely different universe.

The premise of D:OS is that you have two buddy cops who are trying to solve a murder, and everything spirals wildly out of control the moment they're shipwrecked on a beach. (If Roisia had a nickel for every time she's been shipwrecked on a beach, she would have two nickels. That's not a lot, but it's funny that it happened twice.) If you're playing the game on your lonesome like me, you actually create not one but two player characters.

Roisia and Eustace (aka Roy & Stacey) started as joke characters as a way for me to test out the game. For Eustace, the man was built like an ox—(the game has only one body type and that's MUSCLES)—and I gave him a high-pitched nasally voice because I found the contrast hilarious. In D:OS, you can choose to pilot both characters or you can assign them an AI personality. I assigned Eustace the “Judge” personality and let the AI do its thing. It was an incredible gaming experience because Eustace felt "real" and I enjoyed roleplaying with the AI as I piloted Roisia's character. Eustace, courtesy of the AI and the parameters I set for it, ended up becoming this cantankerous, stubborn, contrary academic with a heart of gold who wanted to do the right thing... so long as the right thing to do was also the lawful thing to do. (Following the law to its every letter is very much not Roisia's MO. I suppose that would make Eustace lawful good and Roisia chaotic good.)

Anyway, after completing the game, the epilogue mentioned an unrequited love between the two—(‘saviour the second merely clapped saviour the first on the back and rode away’)—and I have since made that epilogue a canon part of Roisia’s story. She had fallen in love with Eustace, Mr. Saviour the Second, over the course of their adventure and those feelings were not returned.

In BG3, I think that Roisia is not quite over Eustace. She drew up a list of lifelong goals for herself as a way to "cure" herself of heartbreak and is on the lookout for a spouse for herself, but I think she still misses the easy camaraderie of Eustace, his endless snark, and his steadfastness. He'd definitely be the one she'd dream about.

#Eustace #Roisia #BG3 Roisia #BG3 Eustace #this made me miss divinity original sin gfdi ;o;