#baldurs gate 3 fic

[reverieblondie]

Late Night Dip

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering, Tail play, Teasing, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (Please wrap before you tap), G-whiz Position.

Summary: Cal and Lia are worried about their brother, he's just so stressed and needs a break! Good thing you have an idea that could help...

A/N: Rolan is hot, and I'm not going to apologize. I want to give him everything. More fics of my other favorite fictional men coming soon!

Word Count: 4,774

“Please, you have to get him out of that tower! You're the only one who he will listen to!” 

You almost spit out your drink from Cal’s comment and look at him bewildered, “Uh, You must be confused you're talking about Rolan? Mr. Know it all? The arch workaholic? He's not going to listen to me.” 

Lia leans against the bar dramatically, “Could you just give it a try, please? We have tried everything we could think of to get him to take some time off to destress but nothing has worked. We are hoping that because he has a soft spot for you he will listen to you.”

A scoff leaves you, “Rolan does not have a soft spot for me…” 

Lia and Cal share a quick look before Cal speaks up again. 

“Just one try, for his health. I swear every time I’m near him I can feel his tension radiate off him, take him out somewhere so he can unwind, and if he rejects you I will buy your drinks for two weeks.” 

Closing your eyes you consider the chore. Seeing Rolan isn’t a bad thing you love getting any excuse to see that handsome face. Though pulling him from his work would not be an easy feat, but…you do enjoy teasing him, those looks he gives you when you get under his skin always sends a rush of heat to rise to your cheeks. Plus if he is overworking himself you can’t let that happen to your favorite wizard (sorry Gale). Maybe this would be a good push to your friendship to move to more…romantical areas….plus there was that spot you wanted to take him and tonight is as good of a time as any. If all else fails and Rolan heartbreakingly rejects you for a night outing at least you will get free drinks for the next two weeks to wash away the pain.

“Okay, I will handle it, but be ready to have to buy a lot of ale for the next two weeks Cal,” you say as you gather your stuff and step towards the doors. Cal and Lia watch as you walk out of the tavern into the night towards Ramazith Tower. 

“Think there's a chance he will reject her and we will have to deal with a tense Rolan?” Cal asks Lia worriedly. 

Lia scoffs and settles herself on a seat at the bar, “Please, Rolan can’t deny her, and even if he wants to pretend he can, do you think she’s going to take no for an answer?” 

“Those two are really into each other huh?” 

“Yeah, Let's hope one of them finally realizes it and does something about it tonight. I have a bet with Larkissa that Tav makes the first move, and I want my 50 gold.”

Wow, they were right…he looks so stressed.

Your eyes watch as Rolan's taut back stays hunched over the journal he is scribbling in as he studies an old-looking tome. The only part that moves on him is his hand and he writes in a frantic motion. His golden eyes peering at the tome then back to his journal as he continues, it's clear he has been at this for a while. 

Leaning against the doorway you study his profile for a bit longer. Hair was done in its elaborate bun to hide his ears, brows underneath his well-kept horns furrowed in irritation, and the most perfect nose in all of Faerûn. Let's see if we can’t get him to scrunch it in irritation. 

“And what happened to the master of Ramaziths Tower? Worked so hard he died from stress, he was so young…” 

Rolan seems surprised for a moment before he turns his head to see your smug grin, this earns you an eye roll,  “What happened to the Hero of Baldur's Gate? Oh, she pushed her luck too many times and was thunder waved out of Ramazith's Tower.” 

Sontering in you wave him off dismissively, “See you're so tired you're unable to come up with your own insults. That means it’s time you take a break.” 

Scoffing, he turns away from you going back to scribbling away, “You sound like Cal and Lia…” 

“They did send me to get you.”

“Of course they did” 

Getting closer you see the swarm of papers and books he’s been busying himself with, ignoring it all you sit on his desk and look down at him as he writes. He seems to look at your legs for a moment before shaking his head and going back to what he was writing. Usually, he would be nagging you about your poor manners and the fact that you are bothering him, must be too tired to fight. You watch him as he slowly starts up his work again trying to ignore your ass so close to his hands crushing his papers. His nose is starting to scrunch and you can only smile with a sweet taunting hum. Crossing your legs gets his attention one more time before he mumbles something to himself. 

“Work, work, work, write, write, write, Rot, rot, rot” you chant in a sing-song voice as you shake your foot bumping him slightly.  

“Must you annoy me?” he grumbles

“You're just annoyed because you're so pent up with stress, come on let's go out.” 

Rolan looks up at you and furrows his brows, nose still scrunched, “I’m annoyed because of everyone constantly pestering me when I have a thousand things to do. I’m not going anywhere and I am not…pent up…” 

You let out a loud sigh, “Oh come on Rolan you're so pent up with stress you could pop, just a small break, a nice stress-free night will do you some good, then we will leave you alone to be the great grump of Ramaziths. Plus I have something I want to show you that I found the other day.” 

Rolan keeps his head down scribbling, “It will be really fun.” you coo

He continues to ignore you. You frown before leaning down to his ear. “Please…” you whisper softly

Rolan stops his writing and groans. 

“Come on Rolan! Just a bit further!” 

“Where the hells are you taking me!” 

“It's a surprise! Now hurry up!” 

You're both running in the forest outside of the gate, you're ahead of him leading the way but you can hear the snapping of twigs and slight infernal cusses as he tries to keep up. You can't help but laugh as he continues his grumpy pursuit. Finally, you reach your destination with a bright smile on your face as you wait for Rolan to emerge from the thicket. Biting your lip in expectation you bounce on the heels of your feet, this will be perfect…

You had found this place on one of your walks and knew that you would have to come back, and bringing Rolan only made it all the better. A secret hot spring is hidden away in the thick forest, perfect for two. The water looks as if it glows a cyan blue, it seems to glitter underneath the full moonlight. Your eyes watch as the steam from the water rises to the vast starlit sky. This will be perfect for relieving stress. 

Finally, you hear him come into the clearing, his once pristine appearance is now a mess with twigs in his now messy hair and robes covered in dirt from where he must have fallen trying to keep up with you. The smile on your face never falters and he approaches you with an unamused look. He looks past you at the heated water and raises an eyebrow.

“A hot spring? You know if you wanted to bathe…” 

Rolan's words halt as you start loosening the strings of your bodice. Looking up you meet his golden eyes and smirk at his surprised face as you drop your bodice to the ground. His eyes widen and his lips slightly part before he turns away quickly. 

“Come on Rolan, a late night dip under the stars. You can’t beat that. Plus I bet once that water hits your skin all your stress will melt away.”

You start stripping off your undershirt quickly followed by your pants. Your eyes watch Rolan's back as it seems to tense at each sound of your clothes rustling and falling. His tail whips around seemingly uncontrollably, before wrapping around his leg, you're still trying to figure out if it is from excitement or irritation.  

“You have been traveling with Halsin for too long…” 

You laugh at the comment, “Well, he is rather wise, learned a lot from him while on our journey…”

Rolan's tail twitches before he turns around quickly to face you. His eyes widen as he sees your scantily clad undergarments, not like you went and changed before going to fetch him…

He turns back around quickly “Like what…” he mutters, is he? Jealous… 

“Just…things…” you say almost tauntingly. You just can’t resist, from the moment you two started becoming friends you two have been taunting and teasing at every opportunity.  Sometimes you don’t know if you want to punch him or kiss him. Though now…you can only think of one thing…

Taking off your undergarments and then by complete ‘accident’ you toss them towards his feet. He looks down at them for a second before you watch his tail rise slightly before falling back down and lifting his head to look up at the starry sky. 

“I’ve learned things from my other companions as well…”  you say softly, almost too sweetly

A nervous laugh seems to rise harshly from his chest. Slowly you approach Rolan, you're being extremely quiet and you're completely bare. “Like Astarion for example” Right behind him now you look up at his tightly set bun, and with a quick moment you pluck the tie keeping it up out, That should loosen him some, “taught me to sneak up on people to take things.”

Rolan starts to turn his head but seems to stop himself remembering you're now naked. Not that you would mind his golden eyes taking you all in. With his hair now down you finally see his sharply pointed ears, they are cute and with their marron coloring at the tips completely giving away how embarrassed he is at the moment. Part of you wants to take the opportunity to be naughty and nibble on his ear while playing with his loose hair. Best not to push your luck however.  

Proud of successfully teasing him you decide to finally get into the water. Stepping carefully into the calm water the heat craseing your skin immediately relaxes you. The water is the perfect temperature and you quickly sink in and swim around enjoying yourself with pleasant sighs. Turning your head you see Rolan watching with what you think is a smile on his face.  

“Come on in, the water is great!”

“Dry land is also great.” 

“So you're just going to let me swim alone?” you watch as Rolan thinks for a moment “It's very relaxing…” you coo 

He finally sighs, “Fine…just to make sure you don’t drown out here…” 

“Lucky me ~”

Instead of ripping his clothes off quickly and jumping into the water ready to confess his desires to you as you hoped, Rolan instead brings his hands to undo his collar slowly and methodically. Somehow the slow stripping is not only frustrating you but also exciting you, the robe rolls off his shoulders and he takes the time to fold it up neatly. A tightening in your lower stomach is driving you mad, how hard is it to undress quickly? 

Opening your mouth to give him a hard time your comment gets halted in your throat. Rolan lifts his red undershirt over his head exposing his chest lined with beautiful ridges. The ridges seem to lead your eyes along his surprisingly athletic build, the moonlight shining on his body showing off just how toned he is; tense muscles being stretched as he raises his arms to relieve some tension from being so confined. He’s been hiding all this under those robes? That's just criminal…

Then his hands go for his belt and you're completely caught in a trance mouth slightly parting as he undoes the first button, seeming to remember your presence in the shining spring his golden eyes lock with yours and all your previous nerve leaves as your heart lurches. Quickly you turn around breaking his gaze, you swear you hear a slight chuckle before the clearing of his throat. Closing your eyes you chastise yourself for being a pervert, but that still doesn’t stop the image of his bare body replaying over and over in your mind running through all the possibilities the night could hold.  

Sounds of sloshing water along with a sigh breaks you from your thoughts. Turning you can’t help but smile at what looks like a very blushy Rolan, feeling nice you give him a round of applause as he settles in the warm water.

Rolan rolls his eyes, “Your an idiot” 

“What, I thought you liked adoring applause?” 

Rolan ignores your comment, shaking his head as he cups the shimmering water in his hands. You take the time to admire him trying to relax the best he can, his loose hair hovering softly over his shoulders, you see that not only do his freckles decorate his face, but they are also peppered against his tense shoulders. With a quick motion, Rolan brings the spring water towards his face, rubbing the water against his face then keeping his hands over his eyes for a long moment. You watch him confused by him keeping his eyes covered.  

“What are you doing?” 

A sigh leaves his nose before he responds, “Relaxing”

Getting closer you do a testing poke to his left shoulder, and an irritated groan leaves his chest. 

“You don’t seem relaxed…” 

“I’m working on it.”

“Maybe you should try swimming around then?”

Rolan pulls his hands from his eyes, golden irises glow as his ardent gaze lands on you. Suddenly you're hyper-aware of how close you two have drifted and how bare you are right underneath the cyan water. All your previous nerve starts to sink away being replaced by a growing flush to your skin. 

Rolan lifts a brow leaning down slightly to take in your face, you put on your best poker face to seem unbothered through Rolan quickly sees past it and is ready to tease you, “Heat finally getting to you?” 

“No”

“Then why are you so red?” 

“Why are you so red?” 

Rolan folds his arms over his chest and you roll your eyes, “redder than usual” 

“What do you expect? It’s hot.” 

“Aren't tieflings like…heat resistant?” 

Rolan goes to argue back but he seems to be unable to think of anything so he turns his back towards you muttering under his breath. 

Turned away, you trace the paths left by his infernal ancestors. He seemed to have relaxed when teasing you, but now…

“You can feel the tension radiating off….” 

Rolan's ears seem to perk up and he glances at you. 

You sigh, “I was hoping to help…”

“I…you…” Rolan sighs collecting his thoughts, a cuss slips his lips before he starts again, “You are helping…I just…” Rolan takes his hand to cover his eyes again, “I don’t know how to let myself relax…” 

Carefully you reach your hands to rub his back, he practically feels like a board, so tense under your fingers. You lean your head to rest on him.

“Rolan, let me…try something….” 

You continue to rub his back and shoulders gently working out the knots. Right as he seems to start to relax he tenses up again. A soft hum leaves you as you continue to work down his back. Dropping from his shoulders you use his ridges to guide you, softly you rub his shoulder blades feeling the sharp tips. When you touch them you feel Rolan tense and lean forward slightly. 

“Am I hurting you?” 

Rolan looks over his shoulder, his eyes moving from your flushed shoulders following the drips running back into the cloudy water keeping the rest of you hidden, only enough for his imagination to run wild. “No, I’m just…not used to being touched like this.” 

“I could stop…”

You keep your hands on his spine, trying to savor this moment in case he says yes. You close your eyes and keep your hands as gentle as possible hoping he won't say yes, that he won’t move away. Just keeping this moment touching his warm skin for a bit longer…

“Don’t stop…it's helping me” 

Biting down the smile on your lips you continue to rub his back blindly moving through the water. Over time you get lower slightly rubbing above the base of his tail. A steady sigh leaves Rolan's chest as you continue to work. You even feel all your nerves starting to settle in this perfect moment, then suddenly a wrapping around your calf startles you enough to let out a yipe. Rolan, snapping back to reality goes to retreat his tail and move away from you, but before he can run away you quickly grab his wrist. He pauses for a second, then he turns towards you, your eyes wide, lips trembling for the words to say.  

It only takes a moment before Rolan pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you suddenly and burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“D-don’t be…” 

Rolan moves his face from your neck and you feel your body heating up as his shining eyes watch you, slowly roaming from your eyes to your glossy lips, then down to where your chest is pressing against his. 

Rolan's eyes linger for a moment before he brings his head down to whisper, “You feel like you're burning up…” 

All you can do as you feel his clawed hands moving slowly down your back is nod and lean into him further. Touching him now he seems much more relaxed, more open, confident. Right as you're settling yourself on his chest you whisper the words he’s been waiting to hear. 

“Kiss me…” 

Quickly you feel his hand lifting your chin and then meeting your lips for an almost too eager kiss, but you had been wanting this equally as bad. Rolan's lips are soft and assertive as he leads you through the kiss. The familiar feeling of his tail sliding up your leg no longer draws a gasp from you but a wanting moan, craving for his warmth to further engulf you. Rolan, always striving for more, lifts your arms to wrap around his neck as he slips his smooth tongue in your mouth to get a taste of you. It's deep, and teasing as it slides against yours making you meet his enthusiasm, and driving you to want more. Before long you find yourself with fist fulls of his loose hair while his sharp nails dig into the fat of your ass, Pressing you into his hardened shaft, it practically throbs on your thigh. 

As you start breaking from the kiss to fully catch your breath Rolan bites on your lower lip, careful not to break the delicate skin, only enough pressure to have you whine before he’s releasing it from his sharp teeth. You're a panting mess feeling like your body is on fire, the spring, his hot touch, your blazing arousal dripping down your thighs; it's all starting to be too much for you. Rolan brushes his nose to yours to bring you back from your fuzzing mind. 

“I think it's time you get out. You're as red as me now.” his rich voice taunts 

A quick laugh leaves you before it’s ripped from you abruptly. Rolan almost as quickly as he kisses you, he lifts you guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. With shocking little effort, Rolan carries you out of the hot spring back to the dry bank. The sudden chill of the air nipping at your skin should leave you shivering, but wrapped in Rolan's warm limps you find yourself perfectly comfortable. 

Playfully you twist and pull the strains of his soft hair. “Not to sound like an insult but I’m surprised you're able to carry me. I didn’t think wizards were all that strong?” 

You're both out of the water, dripping on the springs bank still wrapped tightly in his hold. Rolan rolls his eyes at your statement before responding with a smirk, “Well you should know that no wizard can match me, from my talent to my strength.” 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now and as you do he bounces you within his arms forcing you to grab him tighter making him laugh at you.

“Well, you are definitely relaxed now.” 

“I am, I should thank you, Hero.” 

You feel yourself getting wetter from his sultry words, “How do you plan on doing that, Archmage?

His eyes spark with something and he grins allowing you to see his sharp canines and molars, “I’m thinking I’m going to fuck you on the bank of this hot spring. Is that what you want?” 

Leaning in you breathe into his pointed ears, “Yes…” 

Then in the next moment, you feel his lips leaving messy kisses over your neck causing you to hold on tighter as Rolan slowly lowers you to the cool ground. The chill of the forest floor on your back makes a shiver rush your spine causing your nipples to perk and your body to shake. A whine leaves your chest and a smile stretches to his lips as he pulls away from you, his shining eyes roam over your body as he carefully moves his hands to your hips and adjusts to a kneel. Slightly digging in his nails, he pulls your body causing his length to brush your slick sex. 

The heat of his cock pressed on your soft flesh makes you shut your eyes with a whimper, he’s not even in you, and your whining. 

“Keep your eyes on me.” his voice commands as his hands lift your legs onto his textured shoulders. 

Finally opening your eyes you see his eyes watching you as he presses a kiss to your inner knee before taking a quick nip to it causing your hips to buckle forward. 

That only feeds his ego, “Don’t tell me you're sensitive…” 

You narrow your eyes, “if you were underneath me I would have you whimpering, so don’t get cocky.” 

Rolan lets out a laugh as he looks down at your spread sex, wet and quivering for him. You can hear his tail begging to swish behind in excitement. 

“We will have to test that on a different night…You look too perfect spread open and waiting for me.” Rolan taunts as he brings his hand to slide his fingers over your glistening cunt, then rubbing slow circles to your swollen clit. 

The sensation of his dexterous fingers stimulating your bud causes you to grind your hips on him for more. Falling deeper into the pleasure you feel your lower stomach twist as waves of heat flood your body. You can’t help but shut your eyes with a shivering breath as soft moans slip through your lips. 

Rolan tsk as he suddenly pinches your clit making you gasp and shoot your eyes open.  “Keep your eyes on me. Understand?” 

You quickly nod, keeping your eyes on his gorgeous face. His fingers slide to your entrance, slipping his middle finger slowly to rub your soft fluttering walls. Watching you intensely he slips in a second finger curling the long digits in your velvety insides. Moans of his name and pleads flow out of your lips as he keeps a steady tempo. 

“You're being so obedient…that's new for you…” 

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can Rolan twists his fingers to the spot that's making you see stars. Rolan seeing your slack jaw expression speeds up his motions. The twisting in your lower stomach gets tighter and tighter as you look at Rolan with pleading eyes. Seeing your expression and feeling your walls clamping down on him, he knows you're closer and he brings his tail to flick on your clit as his other hand keeps your grinding hips in a firm hold. 

You are panting as you dig your fingers into the ground you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Rolan's eyes are on you, staring intensely as he studies every one of your expressions, he looks divine. 

“F-Feels so-so good!” You scream breathlessly 

He smiles at your stammering, getting excited from your praise. “Yeah? Then cum for me.” 

Nodding absently mindlessly you feel his tail flick faster and his fingers curl deeper so perfectly making your coil suddenly snap and your body explode in a wave of white-hot ecstasy as you feel yourself squirt on his fingers, running down his hands and thighs now. 

 “Prefect…” Rolan whispers as he watches you come down from your high while slowly rubbing your release over his swollen cock. 

“You want more?” he asks as he lines himself up to your tight slit. 

“Please~” You hum out blissfully, feeling his ridged length’s heat radiating onto you. 

Rolan chuckles with a shake of his head, “So greedy…” 

He braces his hand tightly on your hip as he pushes the heat of his dick into your cunt. It’s hot and intense as it slides and stretches you. Your walls clench as you moan his name as his ridges rub your insides deliciously. Your thighs tighten as he pushes into you fully, his nails digging into you as his cock throbs as you adjust to him. 

“Gods you feel good” he sighs in pleasure. He moves his eyes from where he’s buried within you to your blissed-out face. Rolan brings a hand to cup your cheek and you melt into his touch, turning your face to kiss his palm before giving him a nod that you are ready. 

Rolan presses kisses on the insides of your legs again as he brings his hands to your waist. Slowly he starts positioning into you, your eyes roll back as his strokes nudge his burning cock right into your spongy spot that's making you mew shamelessly at every thrust. Rolan picks up his thrusting as he feels your walls clenching on him. 

“You're taking-ta-taking me so well darling.” he groans, throwing his head back as his balls slap against you. 

Rolan moves your hips up and down to match his thrust as his breathing quickens. Squirming and curling your toes you feel yourself approaching your climax again, but this time you're desperate to have Rolan cum with you. 

Rocking your hips against him faster you drive him deeper as his cock now rubs your cervix and your walls lick his ridges.  “Rolan, you're amazing! Fantastic! I’m yours whenever you want me! Fuck! Right there!” 

Rolan’s sweating skin further flushes at your praise and his moans turn into broken whines as he fucks you faster and bounces you at the perfect pace. 

With a couple more thrusts that familiar rush floods you as you arch your back mindlessly screaming as you make a mess over Rolan's cock. With your orgasm quivering and sucking him in he stills and squeezes you tightly as his dick throbs and spurts his burning cum deep within you. Stars slowly fade from your vision as you focus on a panting Rolan still buried deep in you. 

With hooded eyes you give a lazy smile, Rolan eyes are glazed over but still focused on you as he smiles back at you. Slowly he pulls out and you wince at the feeling of the sudden emptiness. Rolan settles beside you and carefully holds you to his chest as his tail wraps around your ankle gently. 

“Rest with me for a while…then come back to the tower with me.” 

You hum in agreement as you let your relaxed state move you to one of sleep. Perfectly warm and perfectly relaxed wrapped in each other's arms. 

Larkissa is busy drying the goblets behind the bar to prepare for tonight's service. A tapping of nails on the counter gets her attention away from the task. She turns her head to see a smirking Lia. 

“A bet is a bet and I want my 50 gold,” Lia says, holding out her hand. 

Larkissa huffs and digs in her pockets, She will have to scold Rolan for not being assertive enough to make the first move.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 rolan x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #rolan bg3 #rolan x reader #rolan #rolan fanfic #rolan x tav #bg3 tav #tav bg3 #bg3 tav fic #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate #tav #tiefling #tieflings #smut #x reader #bg3 rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan baldur's gate 3

[senualothbrok]

Unexpected

Summary: You pay Gale an unexpected visit after one of his classes.

Word count: 1.4k

AO3 link

Disclaimers: NSFW. 18+. Smut. Professor Gale x female Tav/reader.

More disclaimers: Vaginal sex. Kissing/lip play. Semi-public sex. Chair sex. Sweat kink.

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

You wait at the back of the lecture hall as Gale dismisses his class. Chattering pupils file past you and out of the door, bounding eagerly into the end of the semester. When his eyes meet yours, he grins so widely it is as though he has not seen you for weeks. You chuckle as you make your way towards him. The closing door echoes around the now empty room.

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” 

You greet him with a quick kiss.

“I was in town, and just thought I’d drop by and see you. I thought it might be quiet, now that classes are over.”

He circles his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His brown eyes blaze.

"I’m very glad you did.” 

You are suddenly aware of the state of you as you lean into his crisp tunic, his sandalwood scent engulfing you. Your dress clings to your curves, your flesh moist and swollen with heat. It is warm outside. You had broken into a half jog on the way, worried that you would miss him. Now, you are half drenched. 

“Gods, I’m sorry.” You swipe your hand across your forehead. “I’m a sweaty mess.”

You notice that he is nuzzling into you. You can feel his fingers fluttering against your hips as his breath tickles your ear.

“Are you?” he murmurs. 

His nose grazes your neck in little arcs, his hair brushing against your cheek. You quiver, your body already melting under his touch. He draws back, his eyes half-lidded. 

You recognise that look.

“No.” You laugh. “Absolutely not.”

He grimaces. He is pressing his body against yours, his hands roaming, searching, lingering over an opening in your bodice.

“Not here.” He is nodding, agreeing.

“Anyone could walk in on us, Gale. A student, even.”

“You're right,” he mutters into your shoulder.

Your mind is resisting. But your fingers are grasping at the bristles on his chin. You are fighting the urge to run them over all your soft places.

“I’d lose my tenure.” 

You tingle at a wet flicker in the dip of your collarbone. A hard heat twitches against your thigh. He buckles against you.

It is the knowledge of danger, you realise, the threat of discovery. It is the sheen of sweat on your muscles, the taste and smell of your salt. It drives him wild.

And his desire sets you on fire.

“Gale.” You tilt your head to him. 

“I know,” he rasps. “We can't.”

He crushes his forehead against yours. He pushes you apart, then wrenches you close again. You can barely breathe now as you rub against each other, grinding and pressing hard into his flesh.

He trembles as his tongue trails up your neck, your chin, the corner of your lips. Every inch of your flesh is throbbing. You shiver against him. It is becoming impossible to remain standing. You stumble slightly against the desk behind you.

“Gods,” he whispers.

He runs his tongue over the seam of your lips, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You moan, clutching at his collar, raking your nails into his exposed chest. You suddenly remember where you are.

“We need to stop,” you manage.

He hums as you open your mouth to him. When he enters, you swirl and roll your tongue against his. He groans as you lap and suck at it, gently, then hungrily and urgently, and you weaken from the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you.

He rolls his hips into yours. You can feel your slickness straining against the unwelcome clothing between you. As if he can hear your thoughts, he reaches for the clasps on your bodice, the belt around your waist. When he rips the fabric from your skin, you are only vaguely aware of your nakedness. There is nothing else but your ache to be tasted by him.

He flicks his wrist, sending a rushing hand across the room to lock the door. His gaze is ravenous as he devours every line and curve of your glistening body. You can feel his bulge surging against your leg, see the traces of desperation that leak through his breeches. He stares at the thick trickle that gleams around your mound and the inside of your thighs.

“Gods,” he moans. “You'll be the end of me.”

There is the hot whirl of his tongue on your neck, the maddening graze of his teeth that tingles. Your vision is blurring, blind desire blazing through you. When he draws back, you stifle a whine.

“Come here.”

He falls back onto the chair behind him, his legs spread wide, his eyes smouldering. His lips curl in a sideways smile as he unfastens the catch on his breeches. He wraps his slender fingers around his cock, beads already spilling from its tip. You tremble in a burst of wet heat as you watch the veins twitching on his shaft. His gaze does not move from you as he pumps it once, twice. You can feel the moisture leaking from your folds as you climb onto him. When the head of his cock pushes against your swollen entrance, you both gasp. 

“Do you want me?” he pants.

You whimper as you sink down onto him. His hardness stretches you wide, and he is so stiff, so thick, that it is a sharp surge through you. With a grunt, he spasms against your chest as you watch half of his cock sliding into you. 

You plunge your tongue into his moaning mouth, desperate for more of him. When he clenches your hips and thrusts up into you, you cry out. You bury your face in his hair, tousled and damp with his musk. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, hardened and tensed. As his girth pulses against your clit, you writhe with the tremors of pleasure. He grasps at your breasts as you rise and fall, grinding into him as he drives his cock deeper and deeper into you.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs into your mouth.

You lick at his lips, feverish. You cannot think, cannot speak. All that exists is the burning inside you, his groans as he bounces your hips onto his cock, firmly, slowly, then faster and faster in a gathering frenzy. His gritted teeth, and the slick sounds of your ache, drawing towards its peak. 

In your haze, you are dimly conscious of a clicking sound. You are arching your back, your head thrown back in a convulsion of bliss, when he suddenly falls still. You continue to buck into him until you notice the panic on his face.

“The door.” 

There is a clacking and creaking, and you are scrambling onto your feet faster than you have ever moved in your life. You are dripping and raw and naked as you look frantically around you. But it is too late.

As the door opens, you see a flurry of his fingers. He leaps behind his desk. 

You are holding your breath, terrified, as an elderly man saunters into the lecture hall. You raise your hands to cover your breasts, and that is when you realise you are fully translucent.

An invisibility spell.

Gale’s hair is dishevelled, his cheeks flushed. He stills the heaving of his chest, leaning back in his chair. He draws his shoulders up in an imitation of calm, concealing his exposed groin under the desk.

“Professor Dekarios.” The old man frowns. “I thought you would have gone by now. I’m only here to do some tidying up, to make sure all is in order before we close the premises.”

Gale flashes a disarming smile. “Of course, Jarvis. That’s very kind. I’m just finishing up here, and then the room will be all yours.”

Jarvis shrugs, scanning the lecture hall. For a moment, it is as though he is looking straight at you. You are frozen with fear and shame. But he gives Gale a brisk nod and wanders towards the door.

“Enjoy your holidays, Professor Dekarios,” Jarvis calls out with a wave.

“And you, Jarvis.” 

He removes the spell as soon as Jarvis closes the door. Your heart rattles as you dart towards the bundle of clothes strewn on the floor, overcome with relief that Jarvis did not notice them. 

“We’re never doing this again,” you huff, bending over to pull your skirt on.

You feel his arm curling around you from behind. His cock is still hard, pressing into the cleft of your ass. His tongue flicks at your ear lobe, and your knees almost buckle. You turn to face him, your nipples prickling against his chest.

“On the contrary,” he breathes, wetting his lips. “I think we should finish what we started.”

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

Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 gale #gale x reader #gale x tav #professor gale #professor dekarios #bg3 gale smut #bg3 gale fic #gale fic #gale dekarios smut #gale of waterdeep smut #gale fanfic

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.4 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

You whine trying to chase after the ball as Astarion was tugging you back to him to check your measurements. You pout as you finally stand still. “Hells, even a cat does better at holding still. “ He sighs before slipping on your new outfit. “There, how does it fit?” He steps back watching you admire the new outfit made. “It fits me better!” You smile, finally you could stretch without hurting your limbs from how tight your old outfit was. You go to chase the ball but once again the pale elf stops you “Please don’t create holes in your new outfit” He sighs before letting you go off.  Karlach walks over “Seems like the little soldier is growing up.” She smiles watching you play off with the ball in camp. “Well obviously, they're Dhampir. Very different from humans and vampires.” He crossed his arms looking at the one horned woman. “So free spirited…do you think we can contain their blood lust?” She whispers as you were near them playing. Astarion thinks on the subject. Even he was shocked to see the bunny in pieces. “ I don’t know, that is why I am reading this book…it should be…possible since they have a human side…we just have to be patient…” He says slowly. He wasn’t even confident in his answer. “It all depends how strong our little soldier is,” Karlach smiles, keeping a positive attitude. Astarion nods and thought, ‘yes it all depends on them’ 

Night came, everyone was in the fire waiting for Gale’s cooking to be done. You look around hearing the Owl hoot but you weren’t hearing their whoo but rather how their blood pumps. Tav was watching you before gently nudge Astarion. He looks over to them before seeing Tav move their eyes towards (Y/N). He looks over to you and where you were looking before calling out your name “(Y/N) foods almost ready, look” He tries to distract you. Tav smiles seeing you and Astarion make small talk, each word flowing out of his mouth made your eyes shine with glee. The pale elf stops and gets up holding your hand. Everyone else stood up seeing the blade of Frontiers in their camp. You tried to peek around Astarion before he pushed you back “Stay back.” He mutters. After finally convincing Wyll that Karlach was no threat, everyone was back in their spot around the campfire eating the meal Gale had prepared. You look at the bowl in front of you before pushing it aside. “You need to eat” Astarion pushes the bowl back into your hands. You shake your head “No!” You whine. 

Wyll looks over “ I find it odd that a vampire spawn is looking after a child.” He smiles looking at you fighting Astarion with the bowl. Tav looks up “It’s not really…(Y/N) isn’t exactly Human either…or …a vampire spawn…” They began. Wyll looks over to them. “Oh? What can this little adorable apple be?” He smiles. “For the love of…just tell the monster hunter.” Astarion huffs feeling annoyed as you reject the spoon in your mouth. “They are a Dhampir” Tav broke the news as Wyll stopped midway with the spoon in his mouth. “ I beg your pardon…” He says looking back at you seeing the spoon being shoved gently in your mouth with the help of Gale holding you still. “ A Dhampir ... .never in my life haunting…I would ever come across such a creature…an adorable one as well.” He walks over to you, taking a look. “Watch it, they are not some artwork” Astarion mutters, placing you in his lap and kept feeding you. Keeping you away from Wyll. 

The day has risen and you were happily bouncing around holding on to Tav as you were included in the group. Astarion threw a fit, not wanting to leave you alone with Wyll and Gale who were going to be left behind. So here you were, admiring the wilderness before looking over and hearing some shouting in the distance. “I told you this is better if (Y/N) joins us when we won’t be battling the globins to rescue this stupid Halsin guy. Gale is so irresponsible and Wyll, don’t get me started” Astarion huffs. Shadowheart turns around but stops “We lost them….” She sighs.  Tav turns around “(Y/N)?” They call out before walking around trying to find you before seeing you standing in front of a wooden cage that had Lae’zel inside. “Don’t ever leave our side” Tav looks over to you before walking forward to speak with Lae’zel. Astarion walks over and holds your hand. “Don’t ever walk off ever again! You do know this goes on the possibility of letting you join in our adventures.” He looks at you. “But I heard yelling so I wanted to check it out.” You pout only for Astarion to sigh “You are a big headache you know that?” He mutters holding your hand letting Tav handle the situation with Lae’zel.

After not getting a please from Lae’zel, everyone was back at camp. Gale was cooking as always, everyone else was doing their own thing. You were walking around the camp, collecting even more flowers. You were collecting them near Lae’zel’s camp “Istik, come here” She called out. You walk over holding your flowers staying quiet. “What are you, are you also a vampire Spawn?” Her eyes look at yours. “No…I’m a Dhampir.” You meekly whisper. “Chk, a Dhampir.” She says “Listen here Istik, if you ever take one bite off of me. I will show you what a blade does” She threatens. You only tear  up and ran off running to Astarion who was busy talking to Tav, “Astarion!” You yelled, hugging his leg. “What’s the matter?” He looks down at you and picks you up. “She! She!” You only hiccup, not able to form complete sentences. “Come out now, I am no mind reader.” Tav rubs your back “ What’s wrong?” They whisper. “She threatened me…” You whisper, laying your chubby cheek on Astarions shoulder. Tav looks over to where you were pointing. “ I see, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll talk to her.” They pat your head and walk off. Astarion huffs “Oh please, she only did so because she was scared of you. She knows you’re powerful…even I know your strength ... .so does Cazador.” He whispers and rubs your back. “I think it’s time we eat and then we’ll sleep for the night?” He plants soft kisses to the side of your head and he stops. What the hells was that for? Why did he do that? He looks down at you only to see you smile clinging on to him. Watching Shadowheart and Lae’zel argue with each other,  Tav tries to keep the peace between the two. He smiles, planting one more on your head and walks over to the campfire.

#dadstarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 fic #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x child reader #dad astarion #wyll #lae'zel #shadowheart #gale dekarios

[stars-and-inkpots]

A Distance I Can't Close (Yet) | Astarion x Reader

Astarion's thoughts get the better of him sometimes, and old habits die hard. But you know him too well, and you are both patient and incredibly stubborn.

Pairing: Astarion/reader

Tags: Astarion's Past Abuse, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, hurt/comfort, angst, angst with a happy ending, self-hatred, self-loathing, mentions of sex, mild suggestive content

Notes: I listened to A Pearl by Mitski for an hour and projected a lot and this was the result

Ao3 Link: A Distance I Can't Close (Yet)

You’re far too patient with him. Far too patient when he’s like this . In one of those moods where everything is wretched and awful. One of those moods where he is wretched and awful. He snaps at you, shies away from your touch even though he wants so desperately to move closer. What he wants and what he feels he should do makes this awful dissonance in his mind. You’re so gentle with him, and it makes him feel sick. 

Of course, whenever you try to ask him what’s wrong he brushes you off. Paints on his usual smile and says everythings fine. He can’t fool you anymore. He knows this. He feels guilty every time he answers, watching you frown and walk away again. 

But then there’s the fear that blossoms in his chest when you walk away. The fear that one day you’ll realise that he’s a lost cause. You’ll grow tired of waiting for him to talk. How can you love him if he gives you nothing to want? He needs you to want him. He needs you to love him. He pushes you away so much, and yet the thought of being alone again fills him with such an unbearable terror. And yet, there’s a part of Astarion that thinks you deserve better than him. You deserve to love someone who doesn’t recoil at every touch. You deserve someone who will believe you when you tell them you love them. He’s paranoid, he’s fragile, and he’s pathetic. 

“Astarion?” 

He hears your voice, but it sounds more distant than it is; like he’s only an observer in his own body. 

“Astarion, are you alright?” 

You don’t touch him. He’s more than aware of that. Your hand hovers uncertainly above his shoulder. Of course you don’t want to touch him. 

“Excellent as always, darling,” he answers, voice smooth and not his own. He can’t tell you the truth of how he feels, it would only make you more inclined to leave him. 

“Alright.” You sound resigned. 

Panic flares in him again. You are getting tired of him. 

He can fix this. 

He needs to fix this. 

“I’m sorry, love, I was just distracted. I assure you, I’m fine. Though, would you do me the honour of accompanying me in my tent later?” He forces himself to bring his hand to your face, fingers brushing along your jaw. He feels guilty for having to force himself to make such a gesture. He should want to touch you. He should want to be close to you.

You smile, seemingly believing him this time. 

“Of course. I’ll be there soon, I just have to speak with some of the others quickly.” 

You leave again, and he watches as you make your way over to Halsin. Jealousy gnaws at him for a moment, but he quickly pushes the feeling down again. 

Everything will be fine. 

He can fix this. 

--

When you finally arrive back at his tent, Astarion is already inside waiting for you. 

It’s cosy; the small lantern leaving the room pleasantly dim while shadows dance across the tent walls. Astarion is sitting on the mass of blankets and pillows he’s put together. He closes the book that you’re sure he wasn’t actually reading and sets it aside. He gestures for you to sit beside him, but there’s something about his smile that makes you uneasy for a reason you don’t yet understand. 

“Hello, lover,” Astarion says as you sit down. He leans closer to you, resting a hand on your knee. You smile, but it fades a little when you remember your earlier conversation with him. 

You know he doesn’t tell you everything. You don’t expect him to. Healing from everything that’s happened to him couldn’t be easy. You just hoped that he really understood when you said that you would always be there for him. You will stay by his side however he’ll have you; be it friend or lover. 

“Astarion, are you sure everythings okay?” You bring a hand up and tuck one of his curls back behind his ear. You don’t miss how Astarion tenses the second your fingers touch his skin. 

“Like I said earlier, darling, I am perfectly fine. I just missed you is all.” He moves to kiss you, and you let him. The kiss isn’t soft like you expect it to be. It’s rough, heady, and makes your face flush. Astarion’s hand on your knee moves slightly, massaging circles into your thigh. 

He sits in your lap, knees on either side of your hips, straddling you. When he kisses you again, it’s all tongue and teeth. Then he’s kissing along your jaw and down your throat, and you can’t help the near whimper it drags out of you. One of his hands finds the edge of your shirt. 

The realisation of what's happening hits you all at once. 

Despite the intimacy, Astarion is too rigid. His shoulders are still tense; all of his touches are too methodical and forced. 

You hold his face in your hands, pulling him away from your neck to look at him. He looks at you, but you know he’s not really here with you, his eyes distant. He’s doing this because he feels he has to, not because he wants to. 

“Astarion, talk to me.” 

Your voice pulls him back to the present for a moment, and you watch as the careful facade crumbles, if only for a second. It’s replaced quickly with fear. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, seemingly confused. “Have I done something wrong? What changed?” He sounds hurt, almost panicked. 

“It’s okay, you haven’t done anything wrong,” you’re quick to reassure him. “Do you really want to do this? You know I never expect anything from you, right? I came here content with the idea of just spending time with you, I never expect anything more. I love you, Astarion. You don’t have to do anything to ‘earn’ that love. You have it. You will always have it so long as you want it.” 

Your words finally get through to him, and he finally breaks. Still holding his face in your hands, you watch as the tears begin to fall. You shift slightly, letting go of his face to hug him while he cries into your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out between sobs. “I’m sorry.” 

You hold him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair while you whisper reassurances. 

It takes some time, but eventually he stops, and you aren’t sure if it’s because he doesn’t have the energy to continue crying or because he’s truly finished. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again. 

“You don’t need to apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” You kiss the top of his head. “You should never feel like you owe me anything. Healing takes time.” 

“You deserve better than me.” 

“Enough of that,” your voice is gentle and soothing. “There is no one else I want to spend my time with. I could live hundreds of times over and I would still choose you. Everytime. You mean so much to me, Astarion. You cannot change my mind; we both know how stubborn I am.” 

Despite it all, you feel him smile against you, albeit slightly. 

The two of you sit in silence, still holding each other. Eventually, you move the two of you so you can lie down, but you keep holding him and he very clearly has no intention of letting go either. 

“You don’t have to deal with it alone,” you whisper quietly after a while. “I mean it, I’m here for you. Whatever you need, be it reassurance or space, just tell me.” 

Astarion finally looks up at you, and you wipe the remaining tears on his face away with your thumb. He holds your hand on his cheek, keeping it there for a moment. 

“Thank you.” He looks like he wants to say more, but stops himself. Instead, he kisses you. It’s different from your earlier kiss; this one is patient and careful. This kiss holds no attempt at seduction, no expectations of something more. When you part, you press one more kiss to his forehead before he tucks his head back under your chin. 

Astarion can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, grounding him. 

How you still love him is a mystery to him; a gift he does not believe he deserves yet, even though you are so adamant that he does. He will try though. He will try for you. Healing will take time, as you said, but knowing you will be there with him regardless makes it a little easier. 

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate x reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldurs gate 3 fic #x reader fic #bg3

[amywritesthings]

the better strategy. / astarion x tav

summary: After successfully saving Druid Grove, Astarion has one goal in mind: secure his safety. His strategy? Seduce Tav. But what if that plan goes horribly wrong and he falls for his own game? pairing: astarion x tav (female, she/her) word count: 3.9k tags: tiefling party reimagined, act one spoilers, non-sexual intimacy, astarion's pov, allusions to astarion's past, selûne!tav // mature for thematic elements

part two. / masterlist.

PART ONE: THE ATTEMPT

.

“I can’t help but notice you’re not indulging.”

The minute the conflict within the goblin camp was over, the second the dust settled in the grove and the victory was imminent, Astarion knew precisely the trajectory he would need to take.

Call it his innate instinct — it wouldn’t take many brain cells to understand just who led this group of afflicted tadpole carriers, for better or worse, after such a battle.

At first he assumed Shadowheart would be the one he’d eventually stalk in the daylight, with her mysterious artifact clutched tightly to her chest. The follower of Shar, however, has about as many problems as her braid has sections.

She would not lead this group to triumph.

Lae’zel? Strong, but lacking in people skills.

Karlach? Strong, relatively agreeable, but suffering greatly from her fiery defect.

Wyll? Too many contracts, so little time to absolve them.

Gale? Not a chance in any of the Hells.

Tav, however…

Calm and collected Tav. Skilled and cunning Tav. Diplomatic and equitable Tav.

Brilliant in all shades of red, peppered across her skin in blood spatter — that Tav.

From the beach where he held a knife to her throat all the way to securing a victory for the refugee tieflings at a grove that never deserved her help, he’s watched this elven woman go from a nobody to a savior overnight.

Everyone vies for her attention. Everyone wants her approval.

Even now he witnesses her flutter through the throngs of beggars invading their sleeping space, trying their hands at flattery and praise. 

(Incredible, that her ego hasn’t shot to the heavens with the gods and goddesses themselves.)

So when she finally — finally — stops in front of his tent after her lap around the camp, he knows he must catch her attention.

Keep it. Suffocate it.

He holds an empty goblet for the sake of saving face amongst the traveling tieflings, not quite willing to divulge his little secret so willingly to strangers.

Tav stops walking to stand before him when she catches that he's talking to her. “Am I not?" she challenges, holding up her goblet. "I’m drinking.”

“Not as heavily as others,” he quips, blinking his attention to the downtrodden no-name tiefling to his left still going through the motions of war and loss.

Tav’s eyes follow Astarion’s, resting there on the tiefling for a moment. Astarion blinks back to watch her expression soften — empathy.

(He hates it when she does that.)

“No, I suppose not,” she begins to reason. “That being said, I must admit I was not born with an iron stomach like Gale — or given a gifted singing voice like Alfira — or find myself in the mood to expose my talent of strength like Lae’zel.”

He can see it in his peripheral — Wyll and Gale sharing a bottle of wine, discussing the parameters of magic while crowding a most-eager Alfira as her slender fingers strum well-loved strings. Shadowheart sits quietly to the side of Halsin, nodding her head to the steady stream of tunes, and Karlach whoops and hollers as Lae’zel takes down yet another tiefling opponent in a series of arm wrestling matches.

Astarion hums indifferently. “But you were the one who secured the demise of those leaders. They all should grovel at your feet.”

“I recall seeing a fire bolt or two ignite from your hand,” Tav teases, returning her attention to his face. The licks of light from the fire compliments her complexion so well. “It wasn’t an effort finished alone.”

“It was an opportunity for violence,” he reasons. “I wasn’t about to squander it.”

“Is that so?” she asks, seemingly unconvinced by his removed reasons.

“Besides, fighting and swordplay is all well and good, but you were the one to spin the spider’s web to convince that rigid drow to believe we were rallying to her cause,” he tut-tuts with his tongue. “I didn’t think you had it in you to lie.”

After a brief huff, Tav shakes her head. “Not my best strategy.”

Astarion’s brows slide high. “No? I beg to differ.”

“I just needed to buy more time so no one would get hurt,” Tav explains, and Astarion wants to outwardly groan at her heroics. He doesn't. “I had no interest in aligning myself with someone who wanted to bring so much pain. Zevlor led his people well — they ought to be the ones you praise.”

Gods, he really likes her best when she’s focused on battle. Feral, merciless, bold — not whatever this at the end of the fight. She’ll list the damned stray dog for valor before herself.

Still, Astarion catches himself before he can ruin his own performance and sharply inhales. He puts a knowing smile back on his face, voice smooth like tainted honey nectar.

“You could still stand to take a little credit, my sweet,” Astarion replies, “but if you’re not willing to take it, then allow me to personally pay it forward.”

The dance is as old as time itself. Astarion steps from the makeshift rug of his tent, finding himself in the plush earth beneath their feet. The party rages on around them with copious laughter and impromptu music and sloshing ale, but the vampire hears nothing, sees nothing, smells nothing — except her.

And, if he’s calculated correctly, she only sees him.

Jogging up to him after missions to check in on his opinion as if she truly gives a damn. Glancing back when she’s talking to all sorts of lowly creatures as if his opinion means anything to alter her otherwise fortified decisions.

He tries to goad her into the worst possible ideas — no, this person doesn’t need help; no, this idiot can rightfully get fucked for creating their own problems; no, we’re not accepting a mere thank you for payment of our services.

(It’s any wonder she has any gold in her pockets at all.)

Sometimes she listens. Sometimes she’ll demand payment — though, if he had it his way, Astarion would turn these godforsaken degenerates upside-down and shake them stupid until Tav drains them of every last coin for acting like she’s anything but a saint.

Sometimes she stands up for herself, and Astarion can’t help but giggle when these little leeches scramble to reroute back to her good graces.

If he was a lesser man, if he didn’t know better, then the vampire would have an insane thought behind these random acts of acknowledgement: that she values him.

Somehow, in some way, even after he’s managed to violate her trust, her body, her blood — all for his gain.

For his survival.

Now he’ll offer something similar as a sort of payback for her kindness. Unfortunately, his talents are something of a one-trick pony: take a ride, any ride, and he’ll provide the best bloody night of your life. Cazador all but forced it to be a guarantee.

In the end, offering his body to Tav will secure his position in this merry band of misfits.

It will keep him safe — even if he feels the bile rising in his throat as he prepares himself to bite his lip and play coy to her every desire and whim.

(He can prove she’s just as vile as the rest.)

“Pay it forward?” Tav asks as if she doesn’t already know.

“Everyone appears occupied,” he begins, each word dripping with intention. “I can’t imagine they’ll miss us for a spell.”

His crimson eyes find hers, searching for the answer he needs: desire – for him, for stress relief, for a chance to use a willing body to let go.

“There’s a clearing not far from camp,” he purrs, taking yet another step as he ducks his chin to meet her gaze. “You can see the moon brilliantly. And the trees will catch your pretty little cries, so I implore you to be as loud as you’d like.”

Yet he’s met with widening eyes without a single thought behind them. Her lips part, close, then part again. Astarion waits for the telltale signs he’s memorized for the last agonizing two centuries — quickening of breath, dilated eyes, shifting in her stance.

“I promise it will be a night you shall never forget.”

He smirks with haughty confidence, his swagger undoubtedly catching her eye. He won’t touch her , not yet — it’s always best to make the anticipation —

Wait.

There: her eyes widen a fraction larger, lips parting with a sharp inhale.

Then her nose scrunches as if… amused, and he’s lost the script.

The hells?

“Astarion,” she starts.

“Yes, my dear,” he coos, keeping that seductive air about him.

“I don’t…” Tav gives a small smile, apologetic in nature. “I appreciate what you’re offering. Flattered, even, but I’m not someone who…”

Astarion stops moving forward, taken aback by the hesitance in her voice. For someone so headstrong in their decisions within this group, this is the first he’s seen her so… girlish? Up until now, he’s never seen Tav react to anything without conviction.

He senses a running theme between such an annoyance and the unwavering faith of a cleric.

“Am I meant to use our wiggling little friend to complete that thought for you?” Astarion presses, fluttering his fingers parallel to his temple for dramatic emphasis.

Tav sighs, and he hates it. “It’s hard to find the right words.”

“Then we needn’t use them,” he persuades airily. “That’s what bodies are for.”

Gods, she gives this look — and by now, he knows it well. The same knowing stare she gave that wretched little gnome who dared speak ill of her even after his rescue. The same knowing stare she gave Wyll when he threatened to attack their fiery friend.

The game is up.

Astarion feels… cold. Rejected?

He didn’t wish to sleep with her in the first place, but he’s never been outright denied.

“Is the gaudy wizard that eats magic trousers more your type, then?” He flippantly twists the problem away, raising a brow of feigned disinterest. “Or perhaps it’s the bloodthirsty Githyanki who gets off on smelling sweat.”

Tav snorts, rolling her eyes in a way that makes his stomach churn.

Does she think him a joke? Not attractive? Not worthy of sleeping upon her bedroll?

He runs through a list of grievances the cleric may have with him when she finally finishes the lingering thought: “I’m not someone who deals in one-night trysts.”

Tav explains slowly, cautiously, as if trying to spare his feelings. Astarion would be offended if he wasn’t so confused.

“I recognize many of us are seeing these hours as our final to live. Yet I find no comfort or pleasure in sleeping with someone I barely know.”

“But you know me better than most,” Astarion argues under his breath, jutting his chin back. That isn’t entirely a lie — Tav’s has taken the inner workings of his past, his plight, and the monster itself in stride.

Tav is the one to take a step forward this time, her cup half-drunk from the wine Halsin poured. Suddenly another feeling twists in the vampire’s sated gut: surely she’s letting him down gently because she’s interested in that beast of a man.

(The druid is certainly less jagged around the edges, teeth and all.)

“Not well enough for something like that, though,” she replies, her smile light.

Astarion’s brows knit as he considers his options. His usual form of seduction hadn’t worked. Should he spin a story, a web of lies, to make her think she truly knows him? Should he push a little harder, make promises of delight and pleasure, to—

“I’d like to see this clearing you speak of, to see the moon. Connecting with Selûne would be wonderful to experience with you near,” Tav adds, interrupting his inner monologue, “if you’re still willing to show me.”

Oh.

That’s so…

Odd.

Why does he suddenly feel so out of place and odd?

“I…” Astarion has half a mind to wave her off, to say it’s a massive waste of his night when he could get his quota filled by someone else in this camp. Yet he’s compelled to stay, to stare, as he takes in her expression. “...if that is what you wish.”

Is this a game? Play ignorant, then arrive at the clearing for sex?

He can’t read her. He can’t place her smile into any sinister category. It only widens, bright like the moon above, and she brings her goblet to her lips.

The vampire finds himself watching as her neck bobs with the gulp she takes.

“Shall I see you once everyone rests?” Tav asks, suddenly having the upper hand in a situation that was supposed to be his and his alone.

All the vampire can do is nod, sensible not to say anything that will jeopardize the private meeting, and smiles with a strain when she walks away to talk to the tiefling moping on the edges of the camp.

Of course she talks the sad sack into joining the party.

Of course she fucking does.

.

.

.

.

There’s still a chance she might want him.

All this talk about not wanting to rush things or explore another person could have been for show. She’s the diplomat of this group of imbeciles, lest he forget. She probably couldn’t afford to look interested in him, much less anyone else, so not to cause tension.

No worry — he’ll come prepared, may the cards fall where they must.

Astarion creeps past his tent, shedding his white tunic to hang on a sturdy branch a mere foot’s step away from the clearing in question. His pale skin practically glitters and glistens in the light poking through the treetops, his complexion a stark contrast to the scars and lines of a body that’s only recently belonged to him.

He leaves his trousers on. He’s not a goddamn animal, after all.

“Astarion?” a rushed whisper sounds to his right, so the vampire turns in all his slender glory.

“You came,” he greets, grinning ear to ear with his entendre.

The wood elf stares back at him from a thick cluster of trees, notably confused by the way her brows knit and her nose scrunches. She assesses his vivid nakedness, but doesn’t make a comment — not yet.

Well, she doesn’t particularly look lustful.

Then her attention disappears entirely when she realizes just how clear said clearing is: a damn near perfect circle, where he’s prepared a small blanket held down by sizable rocks he’d found by the river while everyone started heading into their tents for sleep.

To an innocent eye, it’s nothing more than a midnight picnic.

If he had anything to say about it, then it would certainly become that. The only road block is Tav as she nears the makeshift lovebed in the center of the clearing.

“You didn’t have to use your blanket, you know,” she mentions, and Astarion is yet again left sputtering for a suave answer.

How the hells did she know that was his blanket and not that wretched Gale’s?

“It isn’t mine,” he tries — smooth, very smooth.

Tav makes a noise as she sits down on the blanket, head turning as she studies the lack of patterns or love in its weave. 

“I saw this in your tent,” she argues without conviction. “Lae’zel hates blankets. Mine are all accounted for. And Gale—”

“Alright, yes, it’s mine,” Astarion interrupts, peeved she’s more interested in playing detective than commenting on his broad chest.

The vampire awkwardly meets her on the blanket, sitting down with his heels dug into the dirt.

His legs stay in a raised triangle, knees to the sky, while Tav sits tall and crosses her legs under one another. Her slender fingers sit in her lap, annoyingly so, and Astarion stares at them to calculate a way he can smoothly bring them into his.

All he needs is to wriggle his way into this bizarre outing, to find what makes her tick, and he’ll be safe. It’s the only word running through his head at lightning speed.

Safe, be safe, make yourself safe—

Her gasp is light, possible to miss, but it takes him right out of the mantra to look up at Tav. Her smile is practically glowing as the moonlight bathes over her body, generous and… beautiful.

“You’re right,” she murmurs. “This is… beautiful, at this time of night.” Tav pauses, searching the constellations. “It’s so hard to pray, really, at camp. I don’t wish to offend Shadowheart.”

“What does Shadowheart’s approval have anything to do with your praying?” the vampire asks, feeling surreal that this is what her pillow talk has started with. Prayer. Religion.

(He’d gotten himself at least somewhat hard at the sight of how pretty she looked in the midnight air, ready to try his hand again, but now it’s all but softened with flattened disinterest.)

“Well, she worships Shar — the twin sister of my goddess, and they are not friendly.”

“So?”

“So,” Tav explains slowly, dipping her chin to observe him at her side. “I don’t wish Shadowheart to see me as an enemy just because of our differences in worship. But now you’ve shown me a place I could visit where I can properly speak to her — so thank you."

Astarion must look perplexed as all hell, because Tav studies his face, his naked torso, then back to his face again. He sits up straighter, unable to hide his annoyance in his rigid movements.

Tav shifts in her seat as well, but before she can continue her soft little chat about useless goddesses and Shadowheart’s temperamental feelings, Astarion clears his throat.

“Do you mean to tell me we are really not going to…?”

Tav’s lips purse, and Astarion’s gaze drops to them. They’re plush, soft – they wouldn’t be the worst to kiss. Hells, she looks soft. Her neck was delectable; her blood divine. It wouldn’t be the worst lay of his miserable little life.

“Sex,” he bluntly states, slashing straight through the bush instead of beating around it for the one-hundredth time when Tav doesn’t ask. “Are we not having sex tonight?”

Tav rears her head back, pulling away from him with a lean. “I… thought I already said we weren’t, back at the party—”

“Yes, and playing coy is all well and good, but I know you hold a candle for me, darling.” Astarion gestures around to the nothingness that surrounds the clearing. “No one is here to judge. No one is listening. It’s just us, so if you want—”

“I don’t.”

Talk about a sobering response.

The vampire squints, and finally — finally — Tav raises her chin with what can be considered a glare.

It’s cute, he’ll give her that.

“I already told you that I don’t simply sleep with people to do it.”

“And why not?”

“Because it’s never any good when it’s not with someone you care for, now is it?” Tav replies, exasperated by his poking and prodding. “Is this what all of this is for? The blanket, the… lack of a shirt?”

Astarion leans in. “Was it not obvious to you?”

“I thought you were overheated in the night!” she reasons, the blush on her face creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He sees it. He fixates on it. “I thought you were genuinely being my friend.”

Friend.

Oh, that one stings — he hates that it stings, that somehow he’s disappointed in himself for kicking the hornet’s nest when he had mostly been in her good graces up until now.

“If.. that’s all you wanted from me tonight, Astarion,” the wood elf slowly begins, curbing her temper with each word spoken, “then perhaps it’s best I leave—”

“No.”

Before he realizes it, the vampire grabs ahold of her free hand to stop her from pushing to her feet. His pale hand cages her wrist in, anchoring her to this shared spot, and he feels… well, not great.

But he can’t screw this up.

He cannot, under any circumstances, have her hate him.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology feels disgusting on his tongue, because he doesn’t quite mean it. He means a fraction of it, however, and that’s enough to push a genuine tone in his voice. 

“Please, just… sit with me, then.”

He continues to hold her wrist, taking it as a good sign that Tav hasn’t ripped it from his grasp yet. That, or she’s just giving him the nicety treatment she gives to all of her companions.

Slowly the woman lowers back to the blanket, and he realizes a beat too late that she’s turned her palm to face his.

What?

Tav sighs heavily and turns their hands with a delicacy that feels too sacred for an undead such as himself. Astarion’s palm faces the mercy of the moon when his long fingers, one sinful digit at a time, let go of her wrist.

She doesn’t move away.

“Intimacy is a gift so many people crave,” she begins softly. “I know I do. I know all of us do. It’s why we choose to stay together.”

“The bloody tadpoles in our heads are what keep us together,” Astarion flatly argues, but his voice is tighter as her fingers draw against the life line of his palm.

She huffs with a laugh. “That, too.”

She sits her fingertips atop his palm, hovering. A lump forms in his throat.

“I like when physical intimacy is just that — intimate. That’s not to say Lae’zel’s views or your own are wrong, but… just isn’t how it works for me.”

Astarion is immobile. Lost, quite frankly, in the sensation that’s so little yet feels like it could move mountains.

He’s terrified to breathe, to think, as she continues to press her hand gently to his.

“For me?” she continues. “This — knowing you have my back, and I have yours? That you sit here in front of my goddess and allow me a moment to think — that is intimacy.”

He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, before raising a defeated brow. “And this is pleasurable, for you?”

“Is it not for you?” she returns straight back like a rapid-fire arrow to the gut.

The vampire doesn’t know how to answer that. Yes, this feels… nice, but it also feels wrong. Like he’s holding a lamb before the slaughter.

She is too trusting.

This world, as horrific as it is, will swallow her whole. He will swallow her in a singular gulp, right down the gullet, before she can process his inevitable betrayal.

Yet what does that say about him — holding her hand, allowing her to manipulate his palm at will, in front of a goddess he doesn’t believe in? This is her sanctuary yet he does not burn.

When she returns her gaze back to the moon with the wonder of a person who doesn’t believe in eternal damnation for merely existing, Astarion cannot help but stare.

Not at the moon, no.

At her.

Astarion’s fingers experimentally curl around hers, testing the boundary.

He notices the way she smiles not long after.

It takes a second too late to realize that he is smiling, too. 

Well — shit.

#baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #amywritesthings #the better strategy #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate fanfic #baldurs gate fic

[justanerdy-gal]

“Our Sinful Desires” (Astarion x Tav)

-> pairing: Astarion x Tav -> content: sexual tension/seduction, sfw (stops just before it gets nsfw) -> summary: Tav asks for a lesson in the rapier through a game of fencing. Astarion uses this opportunity to finally bridge the gap between him and Tav that he’d been building up to for weeks. Timed a few weeks after Tav first lets him bite her.

-> notes: wrote this from a prompt from @thefreak0fhawkinshigh about a romantically charged fencing session between Astarion and Tav hehe. I love reading sexual tension but I’ve never WRITTEN it before, I probably agonized too much about this one shot and I still don’t know if I like it but I hope you enjoy 🥹 The vision is that Astarion isn’t totally manipulating her here, he is actually interested her as well (which I HC Astarion was always a little interested even when manipulating her into a “tactical alliance” in the game, if you have high approval with him). But Tav is stubborn, and tries to fight a losing battle 😁

—————

Why was he doing this? he wondered.

Except he knows exactly why. The menace of a woman in front of him had seen him messing around with his rapier in camp, and had begged him to teach her a few concepts through a game of “fencing”.

He vaguely remembers the dull sport from his days as a magistrate in Baldur’s Gate, but he was rare to partake in it himself. His talents were more suited as a means to an end, rather than an enjoyment in and of itself.

However, Astarion found it exhaustingly hard to say no to Tav’s puppy eyes whenever she asked him for a favour.

No matter. He’d use this opportunity to his advantage.

In fact, this is the opportunity he’d been waiting weeks for. An opportunity he’d been building up to for weeks now, ever since Tav had allowed him to sup from her blood.

“So darling, ready to begin?”

“Born ready,” Tav said, as she adjusted the mesh armor she was wearing. He insisted on the two wearing chain mesh armor, and he had procured wood-fashioned rapiers for the two of them - they had surprisingly the same hand-feel as the real thing, but would help prevent any … accidental dangers.

He smirked. “I’d be careful, darling. I may make it look easy, but there’s a lot more… finesse to this sword than you might think.”

Tav pouted. “Think I can’t handle it?”

“Not at all,” he purred. Tav eyes widened for a second, but quickly composed herself, which earned a smirk from Astarion. “I just wouldn’t want you to hurt that pretty little head of yours.”

Tav’s pout began to turn into a frown. “Let’s just get to it, then,” Tav grumbled, and Astarion chuckled. She was right where he wanted her.

“Tsk tsk. First, you must bow,” Astarion wagged his finger at Tav.

“… You’re kidding me?” Tav questioned, as she got visibly more frustrated.

“It’s a part of the art, my dear” he stated, as if it was obvious. “I didn’t make the rules,” he shrugged.

Actually, the rule was to salute, but she didn’t need to know that.

Tav grumbled to herself, something about why she thought this was even a good idea, he thinks he heard. Astarion chuckled to himself. They both bow to each other, at the hip, holding the position for a moment.

As they bow, Astarion looked down towards her, as her head was tilted downwards. He thought about how he rather liked her in that position.

Tav happened to glance upward, and saw Astarion looking down at her through her lashes. She blushed as she saw Astarion’s stare on her, earning a smirk from him.

She stood up with an irritable look on her face, and Astarion chuckled yet again.

“Alright darling, show me what you got,” he said, facing his rapier upward.

Tav had a general understanding of how fencing worked - she had been the one to suggest it, after all. The trick was using the finesse of the weapon to hit the opponent, without giving them on opportunity to feint out of the way. A feat in Dexterity, one that Astarion did not lack.

Astarion settled in a stance, one that Tav tried to mimic. Astarion smiled at that. He knew he had the upper hand here, but Tav was doing her best to make a show of her own dexterity.

Tav attempted to make her first jab at Astarion, but he easily feinted out of the way. Astarion took his chance while she was off her balance to strike, his sword grazing her mesh armor lightly, as to not actually hit her.

“I guess that’s a point for me, love,” Astarion said with a smug look on his face.

“Lucky strike,” she muttered, as she settled herself back in her stance.

Astarion laughed. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling,” he said as he settled into his stance again, opting to wait for Tav to strike again. He knew she would, not being the patient type.

And strike again she did. A frustrated huff escaped her as she missed once again, by quite a margin. Astarion barely had to parry away to avoid her blade.

“I see why you wanted the lesson, darling,” Astarion taunted. “You’re going to need to do much better than that …” he said, as he took a step closer into her range.

Tav hesitated as he did, becoming acutely aware of how much closer they were getting without her awareness. Her gaze narrowed, but there was a tenseness as she seemed to get lost in his gaze. In her moment of hesitation, Astarion grinned, taking his chance.

Astarion lunged, the blade of his sword grazing hers, a clash echoing in the air. As their swords met, he used the momentum to pull himself in to her until they were standing right in front of each other. Not anticipating this, Tav did not have the chance to pull away, and she found herself staring up into his crimson eyes, a look akin to a deer in headlights.

“My, my, darling, I had expected a little more skill from you than this,” Astarion purred, as he watched Tav’s eyes adjust to the closeness of Astarion’s body to hers, only to attempt to face away.

“How am I supposed to when you’re not playing fair?” Tav grumbled, averting her eyes downward, refusing to look him in the face.

Astarion chuckled darkly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, as if matter-of-factly. “I am just playing the sport.” He quirked his head, as if examining her, a knowing smile on his face. “Perhaps you can tell me where your mind is wandering to then …. if we’re throwing accusations around.”

He slightly adjusted his stance, just enough so that his lower body pulled closer to Tav, and his hand lightly rests on Tav’s waist. He heard a light intake of breath that Tav obviously tries to hide. Astarion watched as Tav eyes shifted, her mind at war with her logical side, vs. the side that felt an incessant need to melt into Astarion’s stare. To add to the agony, he caressed her hip with his thumb, small circles meant to soothe and lower her guard.

Tav’s eyebrows furrowed.

“And why would you think my mind is elsewhere?” Tav said, attempting to maintain composure, but there is a slight rasp to her voice as she spat out the words.

“Mm,” Astarion hummed, in a low whisper, leaning ever closer towards her, until his breath fanned her face. “Well, I’m a pretty good reader of body language. I can see when a person’s eyes dilate, when they lose focus. I can feel the quickening of their heartbeat, when they hold their breath, the little tremors when they’re held close. And darling…you have all the tells.”

Tav did not move, trying not think about how close they were, considering her response. “And let’s say your judgement is actually right…. what would you say about it?”

Astarion pretended to consider, raising the hand that was on her hip, to brush against her cheek, earning a jolt from Tav. “I would say that…. perhaps it’s time to let your guard down, for once.”

Tav was surprised. That was not what she was expecting to come from his lips. “What?” she said, slightly affronted.

“I’ve watched you, you know,” Astarion said. “ You help people as if it does not mean a thing in the world, but you remain closed off - to your own needs, your own wants… your own desires.”

Tav scoffed. “What importance do my desires have with everything that’s going on?”

“On the contrary, darling, I happen to think one’s desires are very important. It’s not a sin to give in to your desires sometimes… no matter how sinful those desires may be,” Astarion smiled smugly. “How is one to remain sane amongst the chaos?”

“Hah,” Tav muttered, trying to remain indignant but with not much bite left to her words. “I’m sure your desires are always sinful…”

Astarion lips twitched upward at that remark. He held the silence between them for a moment longer, considering, the tension like a taut string.

Astarion finally smiles. “But, perhaps I am wrong after all. Tell me, then…” he tilted his head as he inched towards her lips. “Would you stop me … if I did this?” he whispered against her, before he finally closed the distance.

As their lips met, Astarion entwined his hand in her own, releasing both their grips on their swords. They clattered onto the floor, but neither of them paid attention to the sound - both entranced by feeling of their lips against each others’.

Tav was the first to pull away, eyes wide at the realization of what just happened, and that she had let it happen. Astarion’s eyes, on the other hand, were hooded, and had darkened in a way that had a shiver running through Tav. He doesn’t let go of her hand.

“Well, my dear, tell me … have I read you right?”

As Astarion looked into her eyes, he knew he had her.

“Fuck you,” Tav answered. But she held fast onto his hand.

Astarion grinned. Jackpot. “Oh my darling, I’d love to.”

——————

Should I make a part 2???

My AO3 and Twitter 🙂

MASTERLIST

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion #astarion x tav #tav fanfic #baldur’s gate tav #astarion romance #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

[elspethdekarios]

Stolen Glances

It's been a little while since I've posted a fic! This is just a little fluff piece about Gale's early longing. Post-Elminster calming the orb, pre-act 2. I've been wanting to write something that takes place in the Mountain Pass camp, since it's probably my favorite place in the whole game.

Gale x Female OC fluff, early game longing

cw: Gale pondering sacrificing himself

The vista of the mountain pass was the most stunning place Gale had seen yet throughout these adventures. Whimsical and awe-inspiring as the glowing landscape of the Underdark was, the glorious valley sprawling around the Rosymorn Monastery ruins had an overwhelming sense of romance and serenity. Even after receiving Elminster's message from Mystra, Gale felt at peace for the first time in over a year. Perhaps it was the orb being quelled, or perhaps it was the view. Realistically, it was a mixture of both, but he couldn’t deny that Elspeth’s company was certainly a factor as well.

With the orb sated for the time being, he felt a little less anxious about flirting with her. She still made him nervous, of course, but it was an exciting nervousness now, like a schoolboy with a crush rather than the liable-to-literally-explode-if-I-let-myself-feel-something-for-her nervousness he was used to. The past couple of days, he let his gaze linger on her a little longer, let his imagination roam a little further than he had dared previously. 

She seemed to glow from within. Perhaps it was the excitement of being able to actually admire her beauty, or perhaps it was the setting they found themselves in. Something about the holiness of this place brought Elspeth’s already-bright light to the surface. The cleric in her stirred at the divinity of the temple ruins, he presumed. She worshipped Corellon, but with the brightness and renewal that seemed to radiate from her, it wouldn't be far-fetched to presume her a cleric of Lathander. Part of him missed being so devoted to a deity. That touch of divinity, metaphorical and physical in his case, became an anchor, a beacon to hold on to when life was turbulent. It was grounding and ethereal at the same time. To earn Mystra’s forgiveness… perhaps his soul could land somewhere among such a feeling if he obeyed her command. It was a thought that gave him a modicum of peace amidst a terrifying prospect.

He often saw Elspeth sitting out by the stream downhill from their tents. Sometimes she was kneeling in prayer, deep in a meditative state aided by their surroundings. Other times, she simply sat by the stream and stared out into the vast landscape, a hand dipped in the water, letting its gentle current flow past her fingertips. Gale couldn't help but admire the way she made time for solitude and reflection. She was quite the extrovert, and after somehow falling into the role of leader, he couldn't imagine the pressure she must feel to always act the part. 

Gale had taken to his own evening reflections in this camp, often sitting on a stone bench nearby reading or watching the birds. He tried not to disturb her, but she had invited him to sit with her once before. They ate apples and he thought about how much he wanted to kiss her. To feel her skin under his palms. To feel her breath against his ear as she whispered his name. But he would be happy just to sit with her, especially here in this beautiful place. 

He'd come bearing food, he decided. He wasn't cooking tonight thanks to their rations of fresh fruit, stale bread, and cheese. He grabbed a small basket and some linens to wrap the food in–who knew what that basket had seen before it was in his possession–and packed enough for the both of them before following the stream downhill. 

Elspeth was facing the late afternoon sun over the enormous valley, the light golden on her skin. She looked over her shoulder as he approached. 

"Hi," she said, her face softening when she saw him. "Do you need something?"

"Not at all. Just thought I'd bring you some dinner before all the best bits get taken."

"Thank you, Gale. That’s very kind," She smiled up at him and patted the ground next to her. "Join me?"

"Of course." He sat down beside her and began untying the linens holding the food.

"You know," she said. "You may be the most thoughtful man I've ever met."

A soft laugh left his lips as an involuntary blush rose in his cheeks. He was suddenly self-conscious about if he was smiling too wide, too eagerly. 

"I mean it," she said as she tore off a piece of bread. "Despite the horrors of our situation, you think of my wellbeing."

"Of course I do," he said, the green of her eyes striking from the setting sun. "You're...." He cleared his throat and turned to the landscape in front of them. "I care about you. You--well, you mean a great deal to me."

There was a moment of silence before she replied.

"You mean a great deal to me, too."

They didn't speak while eating their meager dinner, instead letting the chirping birds and wind in the trees envelop them as if they were meant to be there, a part of the overgrown landscape rooted to the ground. 

"Gale?" El broke the silence as she bit into a strawberry, the juice pooling between her lips, leaving them pink and glistening in the orange sunlight. 

"Hm?" He was trying to look her in the eyes, but her lips and the half eaten strawberry she still held near them were making it terribly difficult. 

"Please don't use the orb."

That did it. Forget the lips. Her eyes, staring straight ahead instead of looking at him, were glassy and sad. Her brow furrowed.  

"I--," he stuttered, unsure of the right thing to say. In truth, he didn't want to do it. But he feared disobeying his goddess once again, and he hoped that sacrificing himself would give his sorry life meaning at the very least. But the look on Elspeth's face gave him pause and another reason to reconsider. She looked pained by the thought. She looked like she cared, truly cared. "I can't make any promises."

El turned her head away from him, but he could see her wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. "She could have helped you," she said, locking eyes with him, her gaze fierce and passionate. "She could have alleviated your pain, all this time. But she didn't, Gale. She chose to let you suffer." 

Her tears were falling freely now, heavy, landing on the grass like morning dewdrops. Gale didn't know what to do, how to comfort her when the only thing that could comfort her was to forsake his goddess. But as he watched the light shimmer in Elspeth's eyes, the stain of pink still on her lips, the way she currently had one hand clutching a handful of grass as if she were ready to rip the earth itself apart--he realized that he would. He would forsake his goddess for her. He would do anything for her. 

"I know devotion," she continued. "Trust me, I do. But she has no right to ask such a thing of you. Gods are forbidden from meddling in mortal affairs. Is taking petty revenge on an ex lover not a mortal affair? Is taking a mortal lover in the first place not meddling?"

Very few people in Gale’s life had left him speechless. Elspeth could now be added to that short list. 

"I don't know what to say, El. It could be the only way to destroy the Absolute for good. I don’t want to do it. But I can't say for certain that I won't." Almost involuntarily, he placed his hand over hers. "No matter what happens, I want you to know how very dear you are to me. You... awoke something in me. Something that's been dormant for quite some time."

"Don't do that," she said, dropping her head. "Please."

He moved his hand away, hurt and embarrassed. His chest felt tight, his face suddenly hot. 

"No, that's not what I meant," El said, grabbing his hand before he could place it back at his side. She held it with both of her own, one gritty with dirt from clawing into the grass. "Don't tell me how much I mean to you if you intend on leaving me."

With the same quickness it dropped into his stomach, his heart soared at the touch of her cool palms pressed against his hand. He was, again, speechless. It had been so long since someone held his hand. Now that he thought about it, Mystra never held hands with him. Was she really an ex lover worth killing himself over? It wasn't just about him, though, he reminded himself. It was about the Absolute. And his sacrifice could save the lives of countless others. 

But what about him? Allowing himself to be selfish for a moment, he imagined a world in which he had a future. Back home, no orb, enjoying tea with his mother and Tara. A partner waiting for him to return home for the day, greeting him with a kiss when he stepped through the front door of their tower. Someone to cook dinner with, to read in front of the fire with, to hold at night as they whispered their deepest desires and fears and to be held in return when he told them his own. He wanted that more than anything. More than Mystra’s forgiveness. 

And, gods willing, he wanted that partner to be Elspeth. 

"Please don't leave me," she whispered, bringing his hand up to her face, the soft skin of her lips brushing against his knuckles. It wasn't so much a kiss as it was a prayer. "I… I think I..." 

She trailed off. Gale reached out his free hand, caressing her shoulder and down her arm, wondering if he was dreaming, when the sound of reckless footsteps began to invade their sweet sanctuary. The footsteps were followed by playful barking and chirping, and in an instant, Scratch and the owlbear cub were bounding down the hill towards them, their game of chase unbothered by the humans sitting on the ground. The owlbear cub ran straight in between Gale and Elspeth, knocking them apart from each other, leaving a few stray feathers in his wake, Scratch right behind him. 

"Awww, look at them! They're friends!" Karlach's voice shouted from behind them as she moved closer to play with the two animals. Soon she was on the ground, being smothered with licks and beak nudges and laughing so loudly it echoed in the valley around them. When she got up, Scratch and the owlbear beckoned her to join their game of chase, and the three of them ran off towards camp. 

Gale and El looked at each other again, the sun almost gone now, the intimacy of the moment gone with it. 

"We should probably get ready for bed," she said, rising to her feet and dusting the grass off of her pants. 

"Yes, I suppose we should" Gale replied, pushing himself up, sore knees protesting as he did. He picked up the basket and linens and walked with El up the hill in the dim twilight. The backs of their hands brushed together as they walked, and he desperately wanted to grab hers, to pull her in towards him, to grip her waist and kiss her and never let go. 

They neared the camp, still obscured by a crumbling wall, and Elspeth stopped. 

"Thank you for having dinner with me," she said, smiling shyly. 

"Thank you for allowing me your company." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at the sight of El being shy–a character trait most unusual for her. It was adorable, the way she ducked her head slightly and looked at him through her eyelashes, holding one arm with the other as she swayed slightly on her feet. 

Sunset had come and gone, the mountain now shaded in hues of blue and gray. The chatter of their companions sounded distant even though they weren’t far. Gale didn’t want to be the one to walk away, to end the conversation. He’d stand here all night if she wanted him to. Then, in one swift moment, Elspeth stepped toward him on her tippy toes and kissed him on the cheek. 

Every atom in his body came alive at the touch of her lips. Time was somehow going too fast and had come to a complete halt. She moved to take a step back, and Gale couldn’t resist any longer: he grabbed both sides of her face and pressed his lips to hers with an intensity he hadn’t felt in ages. She kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold him close. 

As quickly as it happened, it was over.

They stared at each other, hair slightly unkempt and faces flustered. Gale could hear their names in conversations happening behind the stone wall. 

Elspeth backed away with slow steps, not taking her eyes off of him.

“I meant everything,” she said. “Including that.”

Gale could only stare as she disappeared behind the wall, the faint sweetness of strawberry on his lips.

#my writing #gale #fic #gale fic #gale bg3 #bg3 fic #gale x tav #elspeth #galspeth #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 fluff #bg3 gale fic

[tadpoleatemybrain]

Guess who got back on AO3?

Click here for what will become nothing but Astarion AUs

I assure you more will be added

#bg3 #bg 3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #bg3 fic #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 fan fic #astarion fic #astarion fan fiction #astarion fan fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fan fic #baldurs gate 3 fic #au fic #alternate universe fan fiction #bg 3 fan fic #bg 3 fan ficion #bg 3 fic #humor fic

[neppys-hub]

Unbreakable

(Hi all! This is a one-shot I made of Orin capturing my Tav. The big thing with torture is "It is only a matter of time. Everyone breaks." But what if someone does not break? What happens then?

That little prompt inspired this story! I really hope you enjoy, and if you do want a follow up or have any thoughts please, please, please let me know <3)

(My Tav is named Ali! They go by They/Them pronouns, are romanced to Shadowheart, and are a Human Barbarian/Fighter multiclass! Soldier background)

Throughout their life Ali had suffered greatly. From enslavement, to abuse, to torture one hundred times throughout, and even the desecration of their body. 

Ali survived the death of their closest friend, someone closer than family. Survived genocide. Ali had survived every form of wound, physical or magical, and betrayals as well.

These thoughts went through their head as they laughed. They laughed and laughed, the raspy sound echoing through the large and hollow space of this stone chamber. Their hidden prison. The chains shackling them to the ground, both by their wrists and ankles, hurt with every movement, bit at their bleeding and raw skin. 

“Are you entertained?” Orin the Red asked. Ali looked up, blinking out the blood in their eyes and grinning. Oh, that felt good. When was the last time Ali had laughed so freely? Had thrown their head back and let that song be heard?

“You're a pathetic excuse for a torturer,” Ali said. Then they cried out as Orin kicked them across the face. Days ago, Ali could have taken such a blow without so much of a whimper. Now, after all of Orin’s special treatment, it was too hard to hold back. It was unnecessary. They groaned and their head fell back down. The taste of blood, a familiar friend at this point, greeted them freshly.

“Why do you fight, my toy?” Orin asked, in that slow, slithering tone of hers. Ali didn’t have to look up to picture that grin on her face. “Surely, you realize it’s pointless.”

“Pointless…” Ali mumbled in a daze. Another chuckle escaped their lips. “How could it be pointless?” The human looked up, brown eyes meeting Orin’s blank ones. “You’re still here.”

The Bhaalspawn hissed and grabbed Ali by the throat, pulling them up effortlessly. Ali groaned as the chains pulled taught, digging freshly in their already worn and marred skin. 

“I live for your bloodshed. I take pleasure in your pain. I revel in your breaking,” She hissed, sharp nails digging into Ali’s neck. “Your prolonging only makes my worship to Bhaal greater.”

“Really?” Ali choked out as she dropped me, pain shooting up their knees as they hit the stone floor. “Your god of murder delights in this? Keeping me alive?”

Now it was Orin’s turn to laugh. Ali sighed as her own sound, so sadistic, so pure in its joy, so clearly and profanely insane, echoed throughout this cursed chamber. 

“You think you can fool me? Trick me? Have me turn you into a beautiful work of art before I take what I need?” She asked. Her hand, with surprising gentleness, lifted Ali’s gaze upon her. “You may not be dead, little hero, but your pain is art in and of itself.” She leaned in closer, whispering sensually in Ali’s ear. “And each day you choose to resist…is another day of ecstasy for me, and my lord.”

Fuck, Ali thought. They had waited out this torture for god’s know how long. At first, it was to escape. When escape proved impossible they held out for rescue. When rescue became unlikely they held out for this. Days of torture to get Orin feeling frustrated and pressured. Ali gave her nothing, absolutely nothing, and waited until she seemed to lose patience. All to die. To be free of this chamber and take their secrets to the hells with them. 

Yet Orin was too smart for that. The barbarian fighter looked up and watched as she walked around the room. She observed this art, dug through that pile of meat, or muttered about which tools to use. She liked to do this, and often, as a way to build her suspense. A way to have her victims beg for something, anything, to happen. The suspense often proved as painful as the torture itself. But not for Ali. No, they were familiar with pain. Familiar with chains, and abuse, and manipulation. So they took a deep breath and closed their eyes, waiting. Delighting in the respite her little games provided.

How much time had passed when their eyes finally opened? Sleep had snuck up on the hero and Orin had, seemingly, allowed it. Blinking the fatigue out of their eyes Ali looked around. Where was she? Nowhere to be seen. The room was dark, silent, and empty. Not even a candle flickered.

“Alright,” Ali huffed. As they tried every night, and with every moment of privacy, Ali pulled on their chains to no avail. Then they felt the floor around them. Perhaps a loose stone, a nail, even a bone from one of the many corpses might provide aid. Nothing. Lastly, Ali prayed. They had never been one for prayer. After all, they had survived from childhood and onward on their own merits. But after meeting Shadowheart, freeing the Nightsong, befriending both Dame Aylin and Isobel Thorm, Ali had a feeling. The backing of a higher being. The strength granted by the divine. 

And so even in this hell’s pit of a room the human closed their eyes, looked down, and began to mumble a prayer. For the first time in their life Ali had tried to show faith. May Selune hear their prayers and save them. Send them help. Send the faithful that traveled in Ali’s own camp, the aasimar that Ali had fought with and saved. And every day that faith felt fruitless. Stupid, even, as no rescue came. No light shone mercifully in the dark. No divine strength surged through their bones. Not even a trickle of relief from the pain that seemed to wrack Ali’s body their every waking moment. 

“Moonmaiden, hear me,” Ali whispered respectfully. “For all I have done for you, I now ask you for aid, I lower my head to you. Help me. Show me my faith is warranted, and have in me another follower.”

The words were not lies. Ali could have sworn they had formed a connection to the goddess. Not just through the clerics and the adventures, but in themselves. When Ketheric Thorm had nearly sent Ali to the grave? They felt the moon’s light stay death’s hand. Selune had seen them. Had to have seen them.

Right?

“Moonmaiden protect us…” a shocked voice mumbled. Ali’s head shot up. That voice was not Orin’s. No. The human bit their lip, waiting for a sign, another word, anything to confirm this wasn’t a hallucination. 

“What a monster,” Shadowheart’s voice clearly said, traveling through the room. “How many bodies are down here?”

“Shadowheart…” Ali mumbled. Then louder. “SHADOWHEART!”

Truly, a blessing sent by the goddess appeared before Ali. The human let out a shaky laugh as their beloved appeared in the shadows, sword glowing with light in her hand. The cleric’s face twisted with shock as she ran to Ali and fell to her knees, embracing her. 

“Is it you?” Ali asked hoarsely. “Is it really you?” 

“Yes, lover, it is me,” she said firmly. Her soft hands cupped Ali’s face and, ignoring the blood and damage, kissed Ali. It felt like a wave of tranquility passed over them. It lasted an eternity. It was worth the wait, Ali thought. 

“Time to go,” I gasped as she pulled away. “Orin visits often, and we cannot beat her alone. Where are the others?”

“I’m not sure,” the cleric answered, setting down her sword and checking out the locks of Ali’s shackles. “We came down here together and- and one by one we’ve been separated.”

“Shit,” Ali hissed, heart pounding. “We need to find them again before she does. She will kill them. She will use them.”

“Use them?” Shadowheart asked, turning to Ali with surprise. “How?”

“She’s been trying to turn me to her side, to break me, and use me to end you all and Gortash. I’ve made it this far but- but I can’t-” 

Shadowheart nodded in understanding. 

I can’t watch you all die, Ali thought to themself, head hanging low. Orin had threatened Ali’s companions several times now. She had filled their head with promises to take them, to do to them as she had to Ali until they begged the fighter to submit. And every time Ali forced down the bile rising in their throat and pretended that was alright. They’d tell Orin it didn’t matter. That they wouldn’t break. That their friends could and would kill her, even if Ali themself rotted down here forever. And they had meant it, but…Ali knew this was their one weakness. Before the Nautiloid they had always been alone. Since the Nautiloid, Ali had forgotten what loneliness was. 

And if Orin decided to use them, to make them suffer, what would Ali do?

“A-ali?” Shadowheart suddenly gasped. The human looked up immediately, heart stopping as they saw blood dripping from the cleric’s lips. 

“No…” Ali mumbled as she stood and stumbled back, hit with an invisible pain. Then they screamed, voice full of desperation and anger, full of heartbreak. “NO!”

Ali watched helplessly as Shadowheart coughed up blood, grasping uselessly at her throat as something took her. She reached out to Ali with wide, scared eyes, and her mouth opened.

“I love-”

Ali’s eyes closed and they screamed as the invisible force twisted Shadowheart’s head and broke her neck. They screamed as the body fell to the floor. They screamed, and screamed, and screamed until their throat bled and their voice was gone. Then they screamed some more.

“Orin I’ll…I’ll kill you…” Ali promised, panting, coughing up blood with every word. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Will you now?” Orin’s voice asked. Ali growled and pulled against the chains uselessly, looking around for the murderess in the dark. “I don’t think you can.”

For the first time in nearly thirty years Ali felt horror. Horror as the corpse of Shadowheart began to twist, and crack, and stand. Ali watched as it stood before them, neck broken, eyes empty, and blood dripping from her mouth. It stumbled closer. Then closer. 

“Orin you sick fuck! Stop this!” Ali yelled, cringing away as the corpse of their lover made it within one foot of them. 

“Very well,” Shadowheart said, her dead lips speaking in Orin’s voice. Ali watched incredulously as their lover’s body began to twist, and crack, and shape once more until the gray skin of Orin reappeared, her signature sadistic smile stretching ear to ear with pleasure. She leaned in close and Ali, for the first time, looked away from her hideous gaze.

“Gods be damned,” Ali said, relief and dread filling their heart. “It was you the entire time.”

“Of course, my sweet, sweet toy,” Orin cooed. “You thought only you could bide your time? Play these games?” She laughed maniacally. “How do you feel? Now that I know what to do. Now that I have fooled you and taken what I need?”

“Kill me,” Ali said, quietly. Then they ordered it. Louder. “Kill me!”

“Tch, tch, tch,” she said with a waggle of her finger, running a hand down their bloody cheek that made them shiver. “I still need you- You see, I’m going to kill your friends. One. By. One. I will do it in front of you. I will loosen your bonds and you will try to save them. How could you not, hm?” Her voice became almost…aroused as she gripped my chin and forced Ali to look at her. “You will fail them. Each and every single one of them. You will watch them die hopelessly. And then, when you have witnessed all of this…”

“Don’t,” Ali hissed, trying to bite her hand. She cackled and pulled it away, looking them up and down.

“When you have witnessed all of this? I will bring you that lover of yours. I will make her suffer everything I gifted to you. I will make what I did to you look like a game. How long will she have to beg and plead for you to agree? How long until she breaks and betrays you herself?”

Ali exhaled deeply. They felt so tired. So very tired. Orin reveled in her triumph, looking down at them with pride and power unmatched by any in this city. Pride, power, and arrogance. 

It was quick to disappear as Ali laughed. Not the same laugh as before. No, before it was to taunt her. Before it was to feel relief in any form. Before, despite the circumstances, it seemed normal. Now, Ali laughed with the gleeful sadism of Orin, with the same insanity. Ali laughed with a broken heart filled with only evil thoughts and revenge. Ali felt themselves revert back to the person they were before the Nautiloid. Heartless. Because this was the only way to not give Orin what she wanted, even if she managed to kill everyone at camp. 

“Everybody breaks,” Ali said, breathing heavily. “That is what they say about torture. In books of fiction and stories told by bards. Everyone breaks.” Ali took a raspy breath. “But what does the torturer do if they don’t? If they lie, if they go insane, if they hold out just long enough. Hm? What does the torturer do if, after finding every crack and every weakness…their victim does not break?”

Ali looked up at Orin, standing as best they could in their shackles and grinning maniacally from ear to ear. Their face was a mirror of the Bhaalspawn.

“Do. Your. Worst. And when everyone is dead, when I’ve watched them suffer, and cry, and beg, and I still do not break. When I sacrifice our lives and you still get nothing. Then, you will realize.”

“I am unbreakable.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 oc #fanfic #tav #bg3 character #baldurs gate #bg3 fanfic idea #bg3 prompts #bg3 writing #baldurs gate 3 fic #tav x shadowheart #tav oc #my tav #orin the red #bg3 orin #bg3 bhaalspawn #bhaal babe #shadowheart #bg3 shadowheart #baldurs gate fanfiction #trans character #bg3 angst #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing

[reverieblondie]

Seeking Advice

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Oral (fem receiving), Cum eating, Horn pulling?.

Summary: Asking out your crush can be difficult, Maybe you should seek advice from your friends on how to ask out your favorite wizard?

A/N: Look...I've been playing a lot of Baldur's Gate 3. Then this guy yelled at me and I fell. I have a thing for grumpy guys what can I say. Now do not worry! I still am writing for ATSV, TASM!Peter and my love Miguel, just I think I can squeeze the bg3 fandom on my blog. Trust I have plans for for all my fictional men. Plus I am working on request! Just had to get this story out, it was rotting my brain. Hope you enjoy it! Its kinda cheesy but its what I like, sorry.

Word Count: 6,957

The energy to the tavern is a welcomed one, All the noise you might have found irritating at a time is now a pleasant chime to your ears. How things can so easily change with time. Since becoming the city's hero many things have changed for you and your friends. The city is back to its wondrous glory. Finally, your life is starting to calm down, well for the most part… 

There is no longer a squirming in your head and the threats to the world's damnation are at the time eased, things should be perfect, and you should be happy riding an inexplicable high. You are happy for the most part, however there is just one thing that is causing you trouble now. It's the ache that swirls within you that only grows when you see him, the now master of Ramazith’s Tower, Rolan. 

The first time you felt it, it was simply a spark, harmless. It didn’t turn into this thrumming storm until the grove celebration after you defeated the goblin camp, and where he taught you his light spell. That night your fate was sealed, now as your friendship has grown you feel those glittering sparks storming through you more often. 

With a sigh, you rest your hazy head in your palm as you watch him with his siblings. The amber lights of Elfsong make his crimson skin appear as if it's glowing, he looks good in any lighting with his striking features but at this moment he looks damn near ethereal. You're acutely aware that you are staring at the trio, but in your buzzed haze from four wine goblets, you can not bring yourself to care. People are properly catching you staring like a lovesick fool; you will move your eyes eventually, you just want to watch for a bit longer. 

Rolan's journey to the city was different than yours but it was not without its hurdles, then when he got here he had to be met with the cruelty of Lorroakan. You won’t lie, you felt immense pleasure watching his spine get cracked in two for what he had done. Now with that horror over, the scars have faded and you see that Rolan is better, happier. He smiles just a bit wider and his eyes shine just a tad bit brighter. It only makes sense that the Tower and Sundries have become more successful with his influence, though you know he’s just happy that his family is now together and safe. 

Blindly you bring the metal goblet to your lips and taste the tang of the red wine nursing you through your pinning. The drink was meant to boost your confidence to go over there and shoot your shot for a date, but it only makes your head cloud into hopeless romantics. Why can’t you just ask him out? You can take on a horde of knols but you can’t bring yourself to confess to the guy you like? Doesn't get more pathetic than that…

Your eyes stay fixed on Rolan as he smirks and rolls his eyes at what Cal is saying, his clawed hand grabs his goblet and you watch as he brings the drink to his lips. Feeling looser from drinking you see as the red wine slightly escapes the side of his lips as he chugs the drink down. The deep red rolls down his jaw and you have to bite your lip from the thoughts that erupt in your mind. 

“Darling, you have got to stop staring.” 

With a sigh, you turn your head to your pale companion with a devilish smile on his face. With a roll to your eyes, you take another drink of your wine trying your best to play unbothered by Astarion as you can. 

“I wasn’t staring” 

“Tav, let's not be coy, you haven’t moved your eyes from a particular wizard since he strolled in. Sighing and squeezing your thighs together like that's going to help your ache.” 

The mentioning of the actions you thought were unnoticed makes your face blush from embarrassment. Asterion can only laugh at your fluster features as you look around the crowded tavern to see hints if others have noticed. 

“I- wasn’t, you don’t-” 

“Don’t be embarrassed, you could pick far worse. He’s a bit pompous for my taste, but the innocent little freckles on his face are pretty intriguing.” 

Astarion gives you a smirk as you whip your head to face him giving him a look of ‘back off’, though he is hardly intimated by you. 

“Relax, I am not going to take a bite out of your favorite wizard. I will leave that pleasure for you, however some advice, you won’t get him from just staring.” 

You hate to admit it but Astarion might have a point, you have been wanting to confess your feelings you just don’t know how. Looking at Rolan you rake your mind with your past chances to open yourself up but always seem to back out at the last moment, his rejecting you would be painful but being in this limbo is excruciating. You have to get your feelings off your chest for some inner peace. 

“Okay, Astarion…what's your advice?”  

Astarion's smile spreads to his lips and he sits next to you quickly, “My suggestion is you make it your mission to get that Rolan in your sheets, my dear. You obviously have had trouble getting your…” Astarion grimaces “Feelings for him out, so why not go the seductive approach?” 

You let out a laugh but Astarion just keeps his face neutral, “You think, I should seduce him? How am I supposed to do that?” 

“Simple, give him an offer he can’t refuse.”

“Yeah like what?” 

Astarion looks over at Rolan, seeming to think before his face lights up, he quickly wraps his arm around your shoulder moving your chin to face Rolan. Then he whispers in your ear, “You're going to go over to him, very calmly…place your hand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear very sweetly that you want to lick every ridge on his body.” 

Your mouth goes dry and eyes go wide at the thought…running your tongue…down…his… You blush feeling your face grow hot, so hot you think it could be radiating off you. 

“A-Astarion…I-I can’t do that…” 

“Oh, but picture it, once you're done he will be so spent he will be the one confessing to you.” 

An image of a panting Rolan looking down at you with a fist full of your hair sparks in your mind. Hells, maybe Astarion has a point…he has had plenty of experience seducing people, but you? The thought only makes it so you can’t even move. Astartion picks up on your dazed state and with a nudge he pops you from it. 

“Lucky for you there's a creature in here I have had my eyes on, so just watch and learn,” 

“Wait, you like someone?” You say it a bit shocked,

Astarion gives you a look, “Focus on your own love life, huh?” 

With that, you say quite as you watch Astarion's ruby eyes land on a particularly pretty patron. With a smirk, he grabs your goblet keeping his eyes fixed on them like a predator studying its prey. Quickly downing your drink he releases a cool and steady breath then makes his approach. He practically glides across the room to them, very carefully he starts the conversation with a smile and you can already tell the person is interested. Do they know each other?

In What seems like a quick second he is placing his hand on their shoulder and leaning down to their ear. You can only imagine what he must be saying to have their faces fluster so quickly. Nobody quite had a way with words like him. Astarion leans back up to meet their eyes where they are feverishly nodding. 

With that, he starts guiding them to the exit while turning back towards you to smirk. Well, looks like it's your turn…

Picking up your goblet you see he did finish it, okay next step. Standing you feel all the alcohol you consumed immediately go to your head, deep breath, then go. Making your way over you try to not stumble into people as you push to your destination. Keeping your eyes on Rolan you rehearse the lines in your head over and over, as you get closer. 

Rolan almost like he can sense it then flicks his eyes to you, watching as you approach. Swallowing to ease your dry throat as you continue to make your way over still keeping your nerves despite your stomach being in knots. Then his lips curl into a slight smile and you freeze…shit…looking down at your hands reality hits you suddenly, you're drunk and about to proposition him, you can’t do this…he is just going to dismiss you… the thought makes your chest ache and the feeling of your drink coming back up. 

Looking back at him he tilts his head looking at you concerned smile fading and that's when the fear of rejection rushes you. Opening your mouth you go to say anything, maybe smile at him something to mask your panic but it fails. Your lips tremble and before you know it you're rushing to the exit. 

Finding the exit you look back to Rolan, he’s up from his table and seems to be trying to make his way toward you, he looks completely confused and maybe…hurt. You can’t do this…not when you're drunk and on the verge of puking. 

With that, you're pushing out of the tavern and running off into the cool night of the city. As you're running past one of the city's allies you catch in your peripherals Astarion with that person pinned against the wall as he kisses against their neck leaving them moaning into his hand. You must have caught his attention from your running, he looks at your fleeing figure and calls out to you. 

“I guess it didn’t go well?” 

You don’t bother to give him a response, his advice might have worked for him but you're going to have to try a different tactic. 

Note to self, do not try to drunkenly ask out your crushes, it only ends in you making an ass out of yourself and puking up all your stomach contents. Thinking back on it you can only think back on the look on Rolan's face…the confusion…the disappointment…Maybe you should go talk to him? You don’t want him to think that you're trying to ignore him. You were drunk and didn’t want to spill your guts all over him. Feeling freshly invigorated you decide that you should apologize for running off. Who knows maybe the conversion could lead to something.   

Arriving at Sorcerous Sundries you're not even fully sure if he would even be there, the tower might have been the better bet. However, your guess is shown to be a good one when you see Rolan placing some tomes on the shelves. Gods, you could watch him work for hours…his dexterous hands placing everything so carefully. As you watch you think you almost see his tail wag before he’s fixing it down. The smile it causes to your face can’t be helped, though he is always so composed he still slips at times. 

As you watch Rolan work you have the oddest sensation come over you that you too are being watched. Turning your head you jerk back slightly in surprise seeing that Lae’zel’s yellow eyes are piercing into you with her trademark intensity. It’s quite odd that she is in here, she's not one for spells but as you're looking past her you see that Shadowheart is with her thumbing through a tome. That makes more sense, you're happy those two have become better friends. Especially since they did try and kill each other. 

Smiling you give Lae’zel a smile with a wave, she only narrows her eyes more at you as you move to go talk to Rolan. Approaching his tall figure you're taking in every inch of him. 

He's beautiful, from face to physique, you watch as the muscles from underneath his robes flex from his movements. It’s funny wizards are not known for their strong builds but Rolan's arms and back are a dead giveaway to his hidden strength. Looking up you trace down the length of his horns to where they disappear into his soft chestnut hair, twisted in that half-up style. You wonder if you two get closer in the way you hope he will let you play with his hair, it appears so tantalizing and soft…everything about him is tantalizing… 

In your approach your mind is running through a quick daydream of running your fingers along his horns and through his hair; it causes you not to pay attention to where you are stepping. With the perfect explanation for the night at Elfsong in your mind, you're ready to smooth things over with him. Just as you're reaching out you suddenly see Rolan's shoulders shoot up teasing like something just hit him. Confused you lean forward more but that's when you feel it, something is wiggling under your foot.  

Looking down you see that your boot is crushing his poor tail underneath your weight. Mortified, you quickly step off of it. Karlach had told you how sensitive her tail was when she yelped when someone sat on it, so having it crushed underneath a boot sure is not a great feeling. Rolan's back stays teased as he turns slowly, his tail swiftly moving away from you to go to his hands. His eyes look as if he could thunder wave you out of the building. 

“I-I am so sorry Rolan, I- I didn’t see your tail.” you ramble out as quickly as possible

“How do you not see the appendage handed down from my-!” Rolan stops his yelling and takes a breath, his hands tightening on his tail. There is now a mark from where you stepped and you feel even worse. 

“Here let me-” Reaching out for his tail you are quickly stopped by Rolan holding up his hand and shaking his head. Rolan tail in hands starts walking away mumbling a language you don’t know. 

“I’m sorry!” You call out to his fleeing figure as he ascends the stairs. 

Running your hands down your face, your intentions of apologizing to him for Elfsong completely disappear as you make yourself look like a complete ass again to him. Looking through your fingers you see that not only is Lae’zel still staring at you but now Shadowheart has joined her in watching your screw-up. You make your way over to them with your head down silently standing with them as Shadowheart keeps at her browsing. 

After a couple of moments, you see Rolan coming back down to the shop, his eyes meet yours. A part of you thinks you should go back over to him and apologize but you don’t want to annoy him further so you give him an apologetic wave. Rolan just huffs slightly with a nod before turning his back to you to get back to work. Leaning against the shelved wall you let out a long sigh.

“What am I going to do…”

“You mean about your crush on the new master of the tower?” 

You turn your head to stare at Shadowheart for her comment but she doesn’t even bother lifting her eyes away from the spines of the tomes. 

“How…what…” 

Lae’zel cuts in “Your lusting is obvious, sighing with your head in the sky with your pathetic pinning,” -wow ouch…   

A stray giggle leaves Shadowheart and you're quick to narrow your eyes at her as she bites her lip to silence herself. Crossing your arms you look back at Lae’zel 

“I am probably going to regret this, but Lae’zel what is your advice? How should I go about asking Rolan out then?”

The question is intriguing enough to make Shadowheart put her tome down and look at Lae’zel as well. Lae’zel rolls her eyes for a second before folding her arms and moving her fierce gaze to where Rolan is now helping out a customer. Lae’zel eyes narrow at him, sizing him up as she studies him before she turns back to you with a huff.

“I would not ask, I would grab that teeth-ling by the horns and command him to do as I say.”  The direct advice makes Shadowheart burst into laughter drawing attention from people near you, though you can’t seem to meet their eyes because you're too busy giving Lae’zel a confused look. 

“I don’t think that would work with him…” 

“Tis’k, you do not know this unless you try. Now go grab him by the tail and mount him forming a flesh bond with your desired.”  

You're staring at Lae’zel gobsmacked while Shadowheart practically rolls on the floor with laughter. 

“Lae’zel! I can’t just mount him!” you whisper yell at her. 

“I don’t know, she might have something to the direct approach” Shadowheart soothes

You glare at her “Oh you're done laughing on the floor?” She smirks with a shrug, absolutely no help. 

“Fine, I will gather him for you.” -what?

Lae’zel starts going towards Rolan but you are quick to grab her and drag her out. As the puzzled patrons watch you carry out the githyanki fighter cussing you in her native tongue with Shadowheart trailing behind you, smirk on her face. You try to rush out as quickly as you can mortified that Rolan might be seeing the display. 

Once outside you put her down with an apology, Shadowheart quickly places a hand on Lae’zel’s shoulder to prevent her from cutting off your head. “Why not try talking to the guys for advice? Maybe they can give you the male perspective on things.” Shadowheart offers. 

Thinking for a moment you find that she might have a point, it might help to ask the guys for some advice.

Piercing your lips you study the smiling wizard in front of you waiting for your question. 

“Actually Gale I don’t know if I should ask you for advice on this.” 

Gale's face changes from a smile into hurt then moves to irritation, “Wh- and why not?” he practically huffs. 

“Because the last time you tried to get a person to like you you ended up with a bomb in your chest.” 

“Magic orb…” he mutters while Wyll laughs, nearly choking on his wine. 

“Okay, Tav what advice are you needing? We can try our best to help aid you.” Wyll smooths out the tension of the room. 

“Well…the thing is I need some advice on asking someone out. I figured our most intelligent and most charismatic party members would have some great advice.” 

Wyll and Gale look at each other like they can detect each other's thoughts before they turn back to you “You're talking about asking out Rolan aren't you?” 

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at the duo, “Who told you I was coming?” 

“Astarion and Shadowheart, they sang like canaries. Told us about your ...Mishaps” Gale says somewhat sing-songy. 

Sure he might have gotten a bomb in his chest but at least he got some for the goddess… And Wyll Mr. Prince Charming, half the girls in the city who were in love with him and his fancy footwork. Hopefully, they will have some good advice. You watch as the two men start pacing along rubbing their chins deep in thought. You appreciate they are taking this so seriously for your sake. 

“So have you at least tried? Asking him out? I know you two are pals but have you ever eluded to it.” 

You give Wyll an unamused look “Yeah I tried, but then something horrid goes wrong, I’m either stepping on his tail or about to puke.” 

Wyll nods trying to understand, “Maybe you could try to do an action, like an impromptu dance at the tavern between friends? The music is plentiful, and as you two sway along the music you can tell him with your eyes.” 

You watch as Wyll mimics the swaying of a dance keeping intense eye contact with you, but Gale comes behind him and places a hand on his shoulder stopping him. “Don’t think that will work with Rolan, he's….kinda dense…” 

Gale then lights up with the idea, “Why not ask him for some magic lessons? He can show you the ways of the weave and as you two flow through it, you can send him your thoughts.” 

You think for a moment, you have had him teach you magic before but…that was at the grove…and things were different. You hold that memory when he taught you his trick dear and you're about to agree to it. But you stop…if Rolan rejects you during that…it would ruin that spell for you forever…

“Yeah…he's a strict teacher…can we think of something else…Something that can explain how I feel but I don’t have to choke over the words too.” 

Gale and Wyll sit and think for a minute, then Wyll is snapping his fingers with an idea, “Why don’t you write him a letter!” 

You look at Wyll a bit skeptical, “A letter?” 

“Now that's the way to a wizard's heart, through the written word. Grand idea Wyll! Plus that helps with your shyness you can just hand him the letter! No conversion required!” Gale praises. 

You think for a moment, writing isn’t exactly your thing but it might be your only option left. Plus you're sure Gale and Wyll will help you through it! With a nod, you give them the okay and Gale is already conjuring up some paper and quill. They sit themselves on both sides of you and help you get through your thoughts. You thought it would be best to keep some more private feelings to yourself. They both seemed to be rather…really into letter writing, Gale helped fill the letter with praise of Rolan's grandeur with magic. While Wyll helps you spruce it up with flourishes about how your heart dances for him. It turned out a bit cheesy but Wyll and Gale seemed to have a good time. Maybe they should start a poetry club? 

Letter in hand you pace outside the shop, the letter was a great idea when Gale and Wyll were helping you write it but now… Now that you're here to give it to Rolan you're finding that familiar nervousness is eating away at you again. Peeking through the door you see that Rolan isn’t in the shop. It just seems to be his hologram today…Perfect! Now all you have to do is place it on the front desk for him to find later. That way if he isn’t into it you won’t have to meet his rejection immediately. The thought of Rolan looking at the letter and frowning pops into your mind, but you shake it off. Just place it down…easy…

“Tav! Hey!” 

Pausing you Turn around and see Karlach running towards you waving with a huge smile on her face. This is not good… It's not that you don’t want to see Karlach, she is amazing and you two have become incredibly close. The reason that this isn’t good is that Karlach isn’t exactly…subtle… Karlach is a complete badass but when it comes to love and romance she is a complete softie gushing about it to everyone. Wyll had told her about a crush of his one time and she had gushed about the story to anyone who would listen. It’s truly sweet that she loves love so much and gushes about her friends' conquest, but you're trying to be subtle here, placing the letter then leaving quickly, if Karlach finds out about it she's going to give you being here away.  

“Hello soldier, what are you doing loitering around Sundries? Waiting for someone?”

“Oh, no no…I just have this letter to give Rolan.” 

“Oh! What's it about?”  

“Just some questions about…spells…and curses…if he can detect the traces of the magical…What are you doing?” you quickly change the subject not being able to think of a good lie. 

“I was just at the Forge of the Nine catching up with Dammon, I had found some good iron ingots and wanted to give them to him, he could use them more than me anyways…” -oh Karlach you cutie

Karlach looks into sundries and appears to be looking around a bit, her smile slowly dies away before she turns back to you, “Well, I think you're out of luck soldier, Rolan doesn't seem to be around.”

You shrug trying to seem as unfazed as possible, “That's fine, I will just leave it on the front desk.”

“Or you could give it to-”

“No! No the desk will work, I mean…it’s important but he will find it.” you quickly interject. 

Karlach looks at you somewhat confused before she shrugs with a smile and follows you in. Finally, through the doorway, you quickly make your way to the desk and you feel…good! Finally one of your plans is going to work and you have Gales and Wyll's advice to thank! Maybe if this all goes well you will treat them to a drink at Elfsong. You will finally get your feelings off your chest, sure…it’s not exactly how you envisioned, but all the other attempts failed, this is easy and mess-free. 

Right as you reach the desk, something tells you to look up. Looking up you see Rolan descending the stairs wrapped up in whatever tome he is reading. He hasn’t seemed to notice you however so maybe you can just drop the letter and run-

“Hey Rolan! What udder luck, Tav has a letter for you!” -shit

Rolan looks away from his tome, eyes seeming to widen when he sees you and Karlach. You feel all the blood rush to your face as his eyes meet yours, you can’t quite tell if he is pleased to see you or not, kinda of appears to be…annoyed…or surprised? Damn that handsome studious face! 

Your hands tighten on the letter, you go to quickly place it on the desk and rush out but in the blink of an eye, the letter is out of your hand. Instead of it being in your hand or on the desk it's in Karlach’s hand as she is going towards the stairs…to Rolan…going to hand it to him! Oh, hells!

Rushing over to her you quickly snatch the letter from her hand. Karlach seems taken aback by your action, “Hey? What the fuck?” 

Karlach tries to take the letter back after you rudely snatched it. “Tav isn’t this for him?” 

“Uh…Yeah, but I changed my mind…”

“Changed your mind? But you said it was important?” 

Karlach goes to take the letter from you again but this time it is not so easy to take from your hand. Now in the middle of Sundries, you and Karlach are having a tug of war over a letter while Rolan looks at you two trying to piece together what is going on. With some quick moves on your part, you're able to shoulder check Karlach, not knocking her over by any means but just enough to cause her to loosen her hold slightly. 

Feeling successful you smile to yourself that you were able to get it back, but when you look back at Karlach your smile fades. Her eyes are narrowed and you see the hints of flames starting to spark around her, she looks pissed and you are about to get it. Looking up you see Rolan at the bottom of the stairs approaching you with a very irritated look, it makes sense you did have a fight in the middle of his shop. 

Shoving the letter down your pocket you do the thing that you only seem to know how to do nowadays, run. 

“Ohhhh…..so you wrote him a love letter….” 

“Yeah…I wanted to just leave it on his desk but…that didn’t work out….” 

You and Karlach sit on the stone wall looking out into the city watching the sunset. Of course, when you ran off she chased you down and demanded an explanation. You gave your explanation and that's how you are here now pouring your heart out to her. 

“Tav, I think you're going about this all wrong.”

“Oh? How do you figure?” 

“Well sure everyone giving their advice is nice but…I think you should just do what feels right to you. Instead of worrying about what he will say just…just stop being so scared and talk to him. Be honest. All these games, and trying to be sneaky isn’t how to do it. ” 

You take in her words for a moment before you speak, “So…you're telling me Lae’zel had the best advice? Being direct?” 

Karlach laughs “What I am saying is stop being so in your head Tav. Instead of talking to everyone else about this, just go talk to him. I promise it will be best that way.” 

“When should I do it?” 

Karlach hums then shrugs “Fuck if I know. Maybe it will just hit you.”

A smile spreads to your lips and you nod your head “Thanks Karlach, that...that's some really good advice…” 

Karlach smacks your back, basically knocking the air out of you. “Don’t worry I am here for all your relationship advice needs!” 

“So, how's Dammon?” you say coyly

“Oh don’t even start.” 

Laying in bed you think about all the advice your friends gave you and how all the advice had turned out. Why does this have to be so hard….

Looking outside you see how late it is, people all around are either asleep or going home to rest but as you lay you listen to the stillness of the city. Then your thoughts go back to Rolan. How you ache to be held in his arms…to get to look into those golden eyes on a dark still night like this. To talk to him about everything and nothing as his fingers gently caress your skin. You know you would so easily melt under his touch. How it would comfort you, how you want to comfort him. 

Rising from your warm bed you go to look out into the night of the city. With a click, you open the window and are met with the shivering cold of the night. A chill runs through you as you lean out and admire the star-dusted sky. For some reason, your thoughts go back to the night of the grove celebration. Rolan was being teased by his siblings as he focused on his fireworks show. They didn’t seem to be impressed but you clapped for him, before he gave some response about adoring fans there was a moment in his dark eyes where those golden fires shined just for you. That's when the glittering flickers within you started to storm. At the time you thought it was maybe residue from the magic, but now you know better. 

Holding your hands out into the still night you mimic the moves that Rolan taught you after a few goblets of wine after he got more comfortable around you or maybe just got tired of your begging. As you gesture you feel the fluttering of magic down your arms to your hands, motioning your arms up you release the spell. You used to call it just simple fireworks. Though after that night it now has a new name for both of you; Rolan’s Fire

“What are you calling it?” 

“Rolan’s Fire. You have to admit it has a nice ring to it.” 

The bursting lights grow in a flash then dim in a beautiful marriott of colors and white light. The elegance of the spell always fit him and it never failed to fill you with warmth, but now you still feel the bite of the cold despite how many memories of him you conger or how many times you spill the lights from your hands. 

“Just talk to him…” Karlach's words echo in your mind. Of course, it’s that simple, but would it be enough? Could you even be able to articulate how he sends sparks through you? Would he want you to? Or would he want something different…Clenching your fist hard, your mind running rampant with thoughts, with advice, with what you should do. Then finally you come to your decision. 

The cold air stings your face as you run down the dark streets. With every step, your mind screams how this is crazy but your heart urges your tired feet forward. Running as fast as your legs can take you, the city and the few late-night pedestrians blur beside you as your eyes keep forward to one goal. Ramazith’s Tower. 

Running up to the tower you don’t even give yourself a minute to catch your breath before banging on the doors with all your might. You know you won’t be able to rest until you finally settle this with him. Rolan needs to know, you need to know so you can function again. The pinning of your heart has thoroughly consumed you, it’s time. If only this damn door would open! 

The frustration you feel gets released as you beat against the door, 

“Stop beating against that damn door!” 

The voice sounds rough with sleep but still has that formal tone you have grown to listen for, to adore…

The door swinging open you immediately feel those sparks. His hair, usually tied back so precisely is knotted back in a messy rush, he looks surprised to see you. His handsome face contorted to scrunch in confusion at your slummed body still trying to catch your breath. Staring at him in this state is not helping you catch your breath in the slightest. 

Rolan's chest, usually concealed underneath his robes, is now exposed showing off his toned chest covered in those defining ridges that decorate his red skin. Unable to help yourself, your eyes follow the trail of his ridges to his abs then the simple trousers that are keeping the rest of him from you. 

“Tav?” his voice is laced with concern before it's going back to his usual irritated one. “What are you doing here? Going to act like a lunatic then run off again?” Rolan steps closer “What's been going on with you? I thought we were friends and you keep avoiding me! So what is it now that is so damned impor-”

“Rolan, how do I ask you out?” you interrupt while still trying to catch your breath. 

“Wh-What?” Rolan's dark eyes are wide, any trace of sleep has been knocked out of him by your question. 

Pushing past him you walk into the tower. The tower has usually been lit up when you have seen it before, but now it's dark and intimidating. Turning to look at Rolan he still has that shocked look on his face. You know your question is sudden, but you couldn’t think of anything else. Nervously you begin rambling. 

“Look, I know it’s a sudden question but I don’t know what else to do. I have asked everyone for advice, and I just can’t seem to do any of it right. So might as well just ask the source right? Because all the stuff I have tried I choke, or Im making a complete ass out of myself. So please, just tell me…so I can do it and get this…nonning ache out! I know the reject-” 

During your pacing rant, you feel hands cupping your face gently, slowly they raise your head to have you meet his golden eyes. All the words die off in your throat, Rolan’s is staring at you so intensely. With him so close you take in the details of his horns, the freckles peppering his red skin. The feeling of his hands warming your skin, you want to stay like this forever but you just wish you knew what he was thinking. 

“Rolan I-” 

“Quiet.” 

Rolan’s command instantly silences you. The sparks you have been feeling are erupting into a storm of excitement that rushes through you. His thumbs carefully brush against your skin only making you lean in closer. Rolons eyes glow in the darkness, you want to tell him how they set you on fire but right as you're parting your lips Rolan dips down and presses his mouth to yours. His soft lips make all your thoughts melt away. The thundering sparks are bursting into a warmth throughout your body. Rolan’s Fire…

Slowly as he keeps guiding your lips with a growing intensity, then carefully you feel your body being guided back. Once you feel your back meet the wall you break the kiss with a gasp, but it's only a quick second before his lips are pressing to yours once more. Rolan's hands slide down from your jaw to your hips bringing them closer to press against himself. A soft moan leaves your chest when you feel the hardness of his arousal straining against you. 

Rolan slips his tongue between your lips to taste you, the deepening of the kiss causes you to tighten your thighs feeling yourself getting wetter with each pass of his tongue. Your hands find a place on the hard ridges on his warm chest, as you trace over them slowly you feel him groan into the kiss. Then Rolan breaks the and his warm breath fans over your ear as he speaks.

“Ask me now.”

The words barely register in your foggy mind as you feel Rolan slipping his hands underneath your shirt. 

“What?” You can hardly manage the word, your shaky breath makes Rolan lean into your neck with a smile and a kiss, slowly he drags his soft lips against your skin sending shivers of excitement through you. Then his voice is back in your ear purring his words to you. 

“Ask me out again…tell me what you want…please…I need to hear it.” 

The hands underneath your shirt find your breasts and crease them as you stumble a moan trying to find your words. 

“Rolan…” 

“Yes?”, he whispers as he strips your shirt from you. His eyes roam over all your curves before he leans into your exposed chest, palming and lightly teasing at your sensitive skin. 

“I want you in every way possible…I..want you,” you practically cry as you feel him move from your chest to sink lower, sliding his lips against your stomach. Once reaching the hem of your pants he tugs down your pants, rolling your pants and underwear down carefully exposing your wet sex.  

Kneeling now you feel his lips press against your hips causing you to arch them forward. Shaky hands slide up the back of your thighs, suddenly you feel one of your legs being lifted to hook over his shoulder. Heart beating out of your chest you look down to see his eyes are already on you as he waits patiently on one knee. His eyes are completely blown with desire and you can feel the anticipation in his shaking touch as he rubs his hand on the outside of your thigh. 

“Go out with me?” you ask desperately. 

“Gods yes,” he groans before pressing his face into your folds, his hot tongue quickly finds your clit nudging and licking against the bundle making you throw your head back in a sharp gasp. 

Rolan being a quick learner latches onto your swollen bundle, sucking and twirling his tongue against it. The sudden stimulation has a moan escaping you then quickly your hand comes down to grasp one of his horns, holding on desperately as you watch him ravishingly pleasure you. 

Rolan's eyes widen then roll back as your grip gets tighter on his horn. The groan he releases from the sensation vibrates through you, tightening the coil in your stomach. The slick from your quivering slit is rolling down his chin. Moving slightly he laps his tongue to taste more, Adjusting so his perfect nose is rubbing against your clit. His tongue breaching your insides makes you grab both horns as you pull him in closer. You moan his name like a prayer as you ride against his face. 

The more you tug on his horns the more he groans, he can't help but grasp hard on your behind making you whine more as his nails dig into you. Your stomach starts to suddenly tighten more as his velvet tongue finds the sweet stop within you. 

“There! Fuck there! D-Don't, Ah!” you push your hips off the wall but he's quickly pushing them back against it to keep you still.  

Keeping his eyes on you, he watches as the hot wave of pleasure rushes through you. Clasping your hand over your mouth you moan and shake as your orgasm hits. Rolan eagerly licks and sucks up your release as you ride out your high. 

Finally coming down from it Rolan starts to move away from your spent cunt, though before he's moved away completely he gives a quick nip to your clit making you let out a sharp whine. 

Body feeling feverish you lean and brace yourself against the wall, trembling and breathing heavily. Rolan rises from his kneel and you watch in awe as a mix of your arousal and his spit glistens against his perfect face. He brings his hand to wipe his face, his eyes flicking down at you as he smiles then licks up the residue from his fingers. 

“Meet me at Elfsong tomorrow night?” 

Stars in your eyes you nod absentmindedly at him, “Yes…” 

Gods you can’t wait for tomorrow…

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 rolan #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #rolan bg3 #rolan x reader #bg3 rolan smut #bg3 rolan x reader #bg3 rolan x tav #rolan fanfic #rolan x tav #rolan #pinning #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 fic #bg3 fluff #tiefling #tieflings #tav x rolan

[senualothbrok]

The Difference

2024, England.

When a portal appears in your living room and Gale Dekarios tumbles out of it, you think you are going insane. But truth is stranger than fiction, and things are rarely what they seem.

A story of love and its complications, the boundaries between reality and fiction, and the cages we build for ourselves.

[The title is taken from Matchbox Twenty's "The Difference", which is the soundtrack to this fic.]

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Gale x Tav/OC. Alternate universe (isekai). Mental health issues. Angst and hurt/comfort. Breaking the fourth wall/meta.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic #bg3 gale fic #bg3 gale fanfiction #gale x oc #gale x tav #gale fic #gale fanfiction #gale romance #bg3 gale romance

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.6 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 960

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all. MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU AREN'T IN ACT 2 YET.

Author Notes: Hello everyone, another short chapter for this week but next week I am going to focus on the new story I want to publish soon while. Thank you so much for the support! I should be updating the master list with all the links of each chapter. Remember to Reblog and like if you enjoy this series.

You looked at Astarion as the group was having a meeting of what they have done so far. “So we slayed an old hag, killed a Gur, defeated some Gnolls, met a devil and killed other creatures we came across and you still want us to rescue this Halsin guy?” He complained, crossing his arms. “He can be our ticket to curing this tadpole.” Tav stubbornly kept the same plan, recusing Halsin. You tugged at his arm “ Astarion, if we save the mister, we won’t have that yucky worm.” You tried to cheer him up. “See, that’s the spirit little soldier!” Kalarch smiles, “You should listen to them Fangs.”  Astarion only mutters looking down at you before picking you up “ I guess you are right but I won’t be happy if this Halsin can’t do anything. Just wasted time is all. We could’ve been in Baldur’s Gate by now.” He walks off to his tent with you in his arms. 

  How Astarion hated that he was right, after a long brutal battle, Halsin wasn’t any help. He stood at his tent sipping the cheap and awful wine. He wasn’t even in the mood for a celebration. He scanned the camp seeing the tieflings and his odd companions celebrating for taking down the leaders. He turns his head hearing your giggles as Scratch is chasing you around. He turns over to Tav as they walk over. He smirks and puts on an act “You know, I never picture myself as a hero.”

You were by the lake looking out to the moon. Scratch was long gone resting after playing with you. You boredly threw rocks into the lake before looking over hearing something shuffle in the bushes. You walked off into the woods that surround the campsite. There is a sweet scent in the air and you wanted to find out what it is. Getting closer and closer to the sweet smell before a gloved hand grabbed you from behind. Your tadpole was squirming. “Let me go! Astarion” You yelled before the headache got worse before going to a deep sleep. Someone else has had a wiggly worm like yours and made you go into a deep sleep. 

The following morning, Astarion walked back to camp watching Tav head back to their own tent because anyone else wakes up. He walked into his but stopped seeing it empty “Oh Little spawn, where are you?” He hums “Having a sleepover without telling me?” He hums to himself and lays down on the bedroll. He pulls back out the book and continues reading till everyone else wakes up.A couple minutes passed and he heard the shuffling of everyone stirring away. He lets out a chuckle knowing some of them might be hungover. He gets himself changed and walks out seeing everyone but he keeps looking for his little spawn. “Have you seen (Y/N)?” He walks over to the Wizard. Gale looks up “No…last time I saw them was last night playing with Scratch.” He looks around “Maybe she stayed with Shadowheart?” He goes back to cooking breakfast. The pale elf walks over to the Cleric. “No, I haven’t seen her since last night.” Shadowheart says “but maybe that gith might know” She was already pointing fingers. Astarion was slowly panicking, no one knows where the hells you were. He quickly downs a potion of animal speaking and walks over to Scratch. “Where is (Y/N)?” He stood in front of the dog. Scratch tilts his head “(Y/N) was last seen by the lake before I went off to rest?” He begins to sniff the ground and runs into the woods. Astarion follows quickly, and looks around seeing your small footsteps along with larger ones. “No….” He whispers. Scratch barks looking up at him “The scent goes through this path.” He walks off sniffing the ground. Astarion only stood still, his mind wondering who took you. Was there a goblin that they didn’t kill, did another Gur hunter found you? He was brought back down to earth hearing someone calling his name. “Astarion what’s the matter.” Tav walks over with the rest of the group. “(Y/N)...they…they were taken…” He whispers before stabbing his dagger to the tree frowning. “ This…this..is all your fault.” He looks at tav refusing to believe it was his own fault. Pulling back the dagger, he walks off following Scratch who was on your trail. Everyone else watching him walk off, seeing how a few days together alone, you have impacted greatly on his life. 

You were placed in a dark jail cell, the trip was a long one. When you woke up, all you could do was wail and hug yourself. “I wanna go home!” You cried. You quickly kept quiet as the big door opens and hear heavy footsteps. “What’s this general?” You only push yourself closer to the corner scared. “ My soldiers told me about this young one with a tadpole. I had to see myself.” You look over whimpering and flinch as the door to your cell opens. “So young and tell me why are they here? When this isn’t part of our plan Ketheric.” Ketheric looks over “ Someone did some digging into her tadpole, they aren’t just a human child with a tadpole but a dhampir Gortash.” This puts a smile on Gortash's face, “Such a beautiful creature” He looks down at you. “Bring them with you to the city when your part of the plan is done…we can use them as part of our plan.” He added before walking off. Both men walk off locking the cell once again. You only whimper crying out softly “I wanna go home” You whisper “Astarion” You cried out in the empty cell.

#dadstarion #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 fic #dadstarion x child reader #fatherfigure astarion #child reader

[crystal-overdrive]

Not even halfway through the fic and thinking about covers and getting it printed.

I've printed a couple of books for our discord writing server and it's just so much fun, so exciting to hold your work in your hand!

If anyone would be interested in a copy should I do this, hmu ☺️☺️

Or, if anyone would like me to help them print their fic I hate free time so that would be awesome. I can do editing, cover design, typesetting, printing, all that lovely stuff.

#towards tyranny #tavtash #gortav #gortash x tav #gortash #fanfic #fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fic

[stars-and-inkpots]

Ok- sorry I’ve never done this before. But I was wondering if you could do a Gale fic/ oneshot where tav/reader somehow finds a way to like remove his orb but instead of getting rid of it all together it goes to them? Like now they have the orb in their chest and they have like all the pain and the possibility of going boom? If not that’s completely fine- I just had that idea and I felt you’d be amazing for it! I hope you have an amazing day!<3

OKAY! I know I've been gone for like five months, but I finally got motivated again! (Those new patches have thrown me right back into my hyperfixation) I know this is so very very late, but I hope you enjoy! I really liked this idea, and it honestly might end of a part of a multi-chapter thing if I get around to it. This is set before the events of the game.

(p.s. it's 3 am and I haven't really read through this, so I'm sorry if there are some mistakes that I won't catch till I've slept)

What's Yours is Mine | Gale x Reader

After months of research, you finally find a way to get rid of the volatile orb in Gale's chest. Of course, things don't work out exactly the way you intend them to.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, angst, brief allusion to suicide(kinda?)

Ao3 Link: Baldur's Gate 3 Requests

Word Count: 1249

You know it isn’t going to be easy. It’s taken months of research, and even now as you look through the large practically ancient book, you aren’t entirely sure that this is going to work. Gale is sceptical too, he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. He also knows that when it comes to old magic like this, there is always the chance of something going wrong. It wasn’t like this was simple magic either. The nature of his condition is complicated and volatile, and this could easily cause problems.  

Gale sits in the centre of the chalk circle while you finish drawing the runes around it. 

“Are you sure about this, my love?” 

You’ve been talking in circles like this for the past twenty minutes while you’ve been preparing for the actual ritual. 

“Yes, Gale. We’re so close to a solution now.” You draw the final line of a rune and walk over to kneel in front of him. “I’m sure. If there’s a chance to help you, I want to take it.” You kiss his forehead and he gives you a small smile. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“I’m sure,” he answers, and kisses you quickly before you stand again. 

With the circle of runes finished, you move to grab the book. The page you need is bookmarked, and you flip to it to study the words on the page once more. Between the lines are notes and annotations in both Gale’s and your own writing. You added reminders on how to pronounce some of the words, and Gale had marked the translation. You look at Gale once more, and he gives you a reassuring nod. 

You start reciting the lines from the book. Immediately, you can feel the air begin to buzz with magic. Three lines in, and you can taste copper, which is a common side-effect when it comes to older magic like this so it’s not too concerning yet. What is a little worrying, is the sheer amount of power you can feel moving through your body while you speak, and the slight purple glow that is spreading across your arms and steadily growing brighter. You chance a glance at Gale and notice that he too seems to be feeling the same effects. There’s a growing apprehension in both of you as you continue to speak the words on the page. By the time you reach the final line, the feeling is almost unbearable. It’s like the pressure in the room has increased tenfold, like a weight has been dropped on your shoulders and bears down on your lungs.

Once you utter the final word, everything seems to slow for a moment. 

Then you feel it. 

A horrible pain wracks through your body. You let out a scream. It feels like something is tearing open your chest- or is it clawing its way in? You can’t tell; you can’t think. Your vision is dark, and you aren’t sure if it’s because you’ve blacked out or because pain has forced your eyes shut. Everything feels cold, far, far too cold, but also so terribly hot. 

Finally, the pain lessens enough that you can take a full breath, though it is interrupted by a sputtering cough. When you eventually open your eyes again, you realise that at some point you must have fallen to the floor. You can feel Gale’s arms around you, he is shaking. 

“Did it work?” You ask, despite how much it hurts to speak. The burning feeling in your chest hasn’t entirely left yet. 

“That doesn’t matter. Are you okay?” 

You try to sit up and wince with the effort. Gods, your chest hurts. 

“I’ll be alright. Gale, did it work?” You ask again, looking for the tell-tale mark on his chest and neck. You find the scar still, skin sunken in some parts and raised in others, but it is no longer the usual, shimmering purple. Now, it just looks like a normal (save for the shape) scar. You smile, because at least the spell did its job. Then you see a look of horror cross Gale’s face. 

“No, gods no,” he whispers, tentatively brushing his fingers along your collarbone. You hiss in pain. It feels like he’s brushed his hands across a fresh burn. 

You bring your own hand up to feel the centre of your chest, and your stomach drops. You know the shape, having memorised it from the number of times you ran your hands across Gale’s scar. This spell worked, but not in the way it should have. 

“We have to do it again,” Gale stands, pushing a still shaky hand through his messy hair. He stares at the special candles that have already burnt far too low to make it through the ritual a second time, and lets himself believe that they will be enough. “I am not going to let you carry my burden like this. Get in the circle and I can start the ritual again.”

“You know that won’t work. The candles are out, and all the herbs and incense are burnt, not to mention the crystals. It will take ages to find those again.” You don’t blame him for this, no matter how much he might blame himself and how much he might want you to blame him. “I’ll be fine, Gale. You managed it for so long, and now it’s my turn. We’ll figure it out.” A part of you remembers what Gale said of his power and how the orb drained it, but you quickly silence those thoughts before you can worry too much about your own magic. 

“No. This wretched thing is the consequence of my mistake. I will not let you suffer through it. I can’t.” He’s kneeling in front of you again, cradling your face in his hands. “What if it becomes unstable? I can’t-” Gale tries and fails to keep his voice steady. “That cannot happen to you.” 

“And it would be better if it were to happen to you? It is fine for you to die with it?” You return, perhaps too harshly, but surely now he might understand how it felt to hear him say such things when it was him with the magic bomb in his chest. 

“I’m sorry,��� is all he answers after a few moments of silence. You aren’t sure what exactly he’s apologising for, but you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“We’ll figure this out. We always do. I promise.” The pain still hasn’t subsided completely. You can’t imagine how Gale has managed to grit his teeth and bear it on his worst days if this is how the orb feels when it is, more or less, stable. You feel him press a kiss to the crown of your head. “It’s like we always say, remember? What’s yours is mine.” The phrase was common between you two. It was one of the first things Gale had said when you moved into the tower with him. ‘What’s mine is yours,’ he had said with a grand sweeping gesture. Since then it has been used whenever either of you had to borrow something from the other, anything from books to warm wool sweaters you had no intention of returning anytime soon. It seems strange to say it now, but you hope it gets your point across regardless; by the slight shake of Gale’s chest as he laughs softly, you figure it has. 

#bg3 #baldurs gate x reader #gale dekarios #x reader fic #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate gale

[amywritesthings]

the better strategy. / astarion x tav

summary: a hand mirror, no shirt, and one hell of a discovery. (astarion romance canon scene spoilers, remixed with my own flair.)

pairing: astarion x tav (female, she/her) word count: 3.2k tags: manipulation, trauma, astarion's pov, miscommunications, mentions of cazador/spawn abuse, selûne worshipper!tav, sensuality, little kisses // mature for thematic elements

part two. / part four. | masterlist.

PART THREE: THE DISCOVERY.

.

Tav wakes well before Astarion anticipates, which is a problem.

He keeps his promise: he stays with her through the night with his arm around her shoulders, foolishly protecting her from a darkness that painfully calls him home. 

He misses the sun just as badly as she misses the moon. 

(He refuses to entertain two sides of the same coin.)

Upon keeping his promise, Astarion has run into an ironic problem: the threat of wandering eyes have always kept him alert in his surroundings, two steps ahead of anyone in his vicinity to protect himself, but now?

This time, his eyes are the ones to wander. One blink leads to another, until they fall on something... shiny.

Then his brain embarks on a peculiar, intrusive thought: 

The mirror Tav uses to get ready in the morning sits a stone’s throw away from him on a crate acting as a makeshift table. 

And he’s curious.

Curious, because the tadpole has cured just about every other ailment of vampirism — the glowing red eyes, the stench of eternal death, the pesky scorch of the sun.

Maybe he can finally see his own reflection after two hundred some-odd years.

It’s a pipe dream, he realizes, when he carefully lays her down on her bedroll with the care of a lover. It's a pipe dream, but so is living out his days as a free man.

In what precious time he has before the rest of the group stirs, Astarion stalks towards the crate and pokes at the silver handle of the mirror. 

Huh.

No burning flesh. No jolt of pain.

That, too, is something he’s not yet used to — touching things, touching precious things, without burning for it.

Before picking it up by the handle, the vampire sheds his body of his billowing white tunic.

If this is going to work, he wants the grand reveal: of his face, of his body—

Of whatever the fuck Cazador carved into his skin all those years ago.

He’s felt around his back before, touched the edges of what feels like a warped semi-circle of text, but he’s never seen it.

(Shouldn’t he get the whole package of whatever in the hells this tadpole has irrevocably broke in his brain?)

When he picks up the smooth handle of the hand mirror, he stops. Freezes, really. He keeps the mirror's intricate rose-carved art facing upwards, avoiding what's on the other side for a moment longer.

Because he's afraid.

Astarion’s afraid of a lot of things — curing a fraction of his immortal disease hasn’t kept the list from growing.

If anything, it’s only grown longer since he’d stumbled into Tav’s merry band of misfits:

He’s afraid to lose the sun. He’s afraid to be caught. He’s afraid to wake up one morning and see that this merry band, however misfitted they are, will leave him behind.

(That she’ll lose any use for him, the stronger she becomes.)

Finally Astarion turns his arm at the wrist, expecting something hideous and distorted to stare back at him.

He knows his hands are translucent. He knows his body doesn’t hold hair like it used to. He knows he’s littered with over two-centuries' worth of scars.

...nothing.

Astarion squints, hoping that perhaps the nothingness in the mirror is a mistake.

Still nothing.

All he can see is Tav staring back at him.

Tav.

Wait—

“Shit,” he curses with gusto, turning on a heel to hide the mirror — and his entire mangled, carved back — from view as he flashes that forced, toothy grin her way.

Tav looks like she straddles this world and a dream realm with messy clothes and half-lidded eyes. If she’s mad, then typical signs are not present.

Astarion feels like a school boy caught red-handed with something naughty, ashamed when, truly?

“I was going to give it back,” he argues quickly, like being a thief in her own camp is the last thing he wishes Tav to think of him.

(Why the fuck should her opinion matter?)

He then turns smarmy, scrambling to his favorable line of defense: flirtation.

“My dear, are you perhaps — staring at something?”

He rolls a sensual shoulder towards her, hoping his face, his toned body, anything but what lay out of sight distracts her. Although flirting with Tav has always been useless, he sure does try.

She doesn’t look at his face. Instead her gaze is lost somewhere in the space between his throat and sternum.

Then he realizes all too late: flirting with Tav really will be useless, because she’s already seen what he's so desperate to hide.

“Astarion… your back…”

Ah, Hells.

So she did see the whole gnarled picture. 

Tav trails off, seeking a question he knows she’s too afraid to ask. Because Tav is annoyingly good. She doesn’t poke her nose into places where it isn’t wanted.

He could be mean about it, too; make her so upset and embarrassed for staring instead of running back into her tent that she may cry.

In his mind, he has the upper hand in this agonizing moment.

“I thought it would be worth a shot, to see if my… current state of condition would lend itself to perhaps seeing my own reflection,” he chooses instead, playful in tone. He waves his free hand with little care. “It didn’t work, if that’s what you were wondering.”

No, she isn’t wondering that.

She’s wondering the very same thing that’s on his mind: what is that monstrosity on his back? 

At first he assumes Tav doesn’t have the heart to play along. Her inhale is sharp, focused, before she exhales the intensity of her muscles away.

“It must be hard, not seeing your reflection,” she replies instead, surprising him.

“Quite a pain, yes,” he answers.

“Do you miss it?”

“What, preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity?”

The vampire’s eyebrows slide high, before his face falls with undeniable grief.

“Of course I miss it. I’ve never seen this face.”

He notes the way her expression knits in confusion, so he clarifies.

“Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red.”

She watches his face, not daring to curve a peek at his back. The wood elf moves in a step closer, paying special attention to his eyes.

She wants to ask. Will she actually—

“What color were your eyes before?” she gently asks, and his stomach sinks.

Beautiful, wonderful, precious Tav — how can his lips be anything but loose around her?

“I..."

He could lie. Say brown, green, blue, whatever color might fit in her image, but he fails his deception for the second time.

"I don’t know,” he admits. “I can’t remember.”

(He'll never admit that he's made it a point to memorize hers. They’re such a brilliant color, magnificent in a way that’s perfectly Tav. No other eye color can compare.)

He's considering a lie, to tell her they have twin eyes, but something peculiar begins to stir with the cleric in front of him: she’s leaning in further, hands behind her back — she always refuses to touch him, which is as infuriating as it is assuaging — but then she… squints.

Stares.

Astarion blinks.

“What in the hells are you doing?” He takes a fraction of a step back, nerves bunched in the center of his throat. “Is there something on my face?”

“Not quite,” Tav corrects, and he loathes the sing-song tone she’s adopted. “I’m no poet, but I could tell you what I see.”

His brain blanks.

He has no retort, no sly flirtation, to toss in retaliation. He’s the one stuck with a translucent blush, left to wonder how someone like her manifested into this cruel, harsh world.

“You would tell me what you see?” he forces to repeat, to make sure he’s heard right. He wants to ask. He shouldn’t. He wants to know. He can’t. “What… do you see?”

He has always been reprimanded for impulse. Centuries haven’t changed that.

Tav takes a moment to study him with no malice.

“White hair. It curls around your ears and bounces when you walk. On the surface, it oftentimes waves in the wind.”

“I wasn’t aware you were a bard in disguise,” he scoffs, waving off such a tender recount.

She isn’t bothered by the jab. She glides closer, hands raising. The vampire’s brow rises.

“Your eyes are red, sure, but you have soft eyelashes. They frame your face wonderfully.”

Astarion playfully tilts his chin, fangs gleaming. “Flattery? Now this I can get behind.”

“It isn’t just flattery, Astarion,” she argues with a softness that devolves to laughter. “You have this… adorable little scar right here—” 

To his surprise, the wood elf runs a fingertip over a scar he got on a particularly bad day luring game to Cazador’s palace, and his entire body runs hot — not because of the memory, but because her touch is featherlight and inviting.

He’s not sure Tav has ever put her hands on him, not in the way he’s defiled her body with his teeth.

Her hands have gripped his arms, but his face…

Why in the Hells does he want to lean into it?

His own hand shoots between them, curling around her wrist to keep her hand there.

Tav must realize what she’s done, because he can feel the muscle tend under his grip.

Astarion leans in, cooing his next question:

“Is this the part when you tell me I’m the most beautiful creature you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

Her eyes widen with shame.

He’s going to ruin this.

Good, he thinks. Feel bad for being kind to me. Remind me that I’m a monster that keeps you up at night. Remember I feed off of your very life source—

“Astarion, you are beautiful.”

As if it’s the most innocent confession at a religious altar.

(She'll never burn like him.)

So many before her have said the same — called him beautiful, gorgeous, sexy — but there is some uncertain way she goes about it that punches the air from his undead lungs.

He can’t do this.

He must upset something, or else he may upset himself.

“You saw the scars on my back, yes?” he murmurs in the finite space between them. Her eyes widen even further. “When you spoke earlier, was that not what you were referring to? Are they beautiful to you, too, or is it just my dashing young face and mouthwatering body?”

The wood elf considers her next words very carefully, but she doesn’t fight his hold on her wrist.

The vampire tilts his chin down, closer, and he can hear the urgent inhale through her nose.

“I saw them, yes," she admits under her breath. "What... may I ask what they are?"

“I haven’t the slightest clue, my sweet,” he replies. “I’ve been tracing them with my fingers for years, trying to read them by touch, but I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

“And that’s why you were trying to use my mirror?” 

Oh, Saint Tav. Always so clever.

She tilts her head, hair following her movements. He gets a whiff of her natural perfume — Gods, it’s intoxicating. 

“Because you thought if you could see your reflection, then perhaps you’d see what's on your back without anyone's help?”

He sneers. “It wasn’t like Cazador was ever going to tell me.”

Her expression softens. “He…?”

“Carved them, yes,” he tells her, remaining as flippant as he can muster. “One night, in my first years as his spawn, he was feeling particularly gracious and decided to give me them. A poem for the ages, so that I may never forget my place in this world."

The words taste like ash on his tongue.

"He spent hours drawing his project into my back without sedatives or a healing potion in sight. My reward for being good and quiet was cleaning it up myself — my own blood as a source of food over my usual vermin. It was oh, so generous of my master.”

He expects pity so he can hate her again.

He wants her to feel sorry for him, so that he may return to his normal headspace where Tav isn’t a lingering infection, competing with the godforsaken tadpole in his mind.

Yet her face hardens. The wood elf pulls her arm away from him and, to his surprise, drops to her knees before him in the dirt below. 

“Turn around.”

Well — that’s not what he hoped for.

A slight panic grips at his chest. “What?”

“Turn around,” Tav repeats, then clears her throat. “Please?”

His eyes narrow with innate distrust. “Why?”

Her shoulders slump. A slender finger reaches to the dirt beneath her boot, tapping at it.

“Because I am no bard or artist, but perhaps I can draw what I see for you to read yourself. It isn’t anything I can translate, but perhaps together we can figure something out.” She pauses. “And it’s easy to kick away should the others stir early.”

Astarion’s stomach drops.

She’s protecting him?

But... why?

Astarion reluctantly shuffles his shoe, turning on its heel until he’s trapped staring at the flaps of Tav’s tent. Their tent. 

(The possessiveness does have him smirking to himself, his mind wrapping around something other than what the wood elf is doing behind him. Take that, Ravengard.)

After a few minutes of drawing in the dirt, he can hear Tav huff in frustration.

“I don’t quite understand… what did Cazador tell you this was?”

“Who knows,” Astarion calls over his shoulder, trying to sound unbothered. “A poem? He had a very sick sense of humor.”

She grows silent. He shifts his weight from one leg to another.

“Astarion…”

Her voice is smaller than before. Uncertain.

The vampire cannot help himself. He whips his chin over his shoulder, only to see—

“The hells did you draw?” he asks in a flurry of words, brows furiously furrowed.

Tav doesn’t look up from the crude rendition she’s drawn below. Swirls connect to lines in three distinct circles; a language he’s never read nor spoken in all his near three centuries of living.

It’s just as horrific as he recalls in the moment: his muffled screams, Cazador’s voice relentlessly berating his cries, how the tip of the dagger relentlessly dragged over—

He puffs his bare chest, refusing to landslide.

“Well? What in the hells did he do to me?” 

“I don’t…”

The woman trails off, eyes rising to meet him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Tav is furious. He’s never seen her angry, save their encounter with Nere in the Grymforge cave-in.

Yet that anger isn’t directed to him — it’s at the dirt, where his shame, his pain, his past, lay bare.

“I don’t know what this is. I can’t read it. I thought maybe something would click if I drew it myself, but I have never read this language. It could — I don’t know, it could be some type of Infernal?”

“Excuse me? Did you say Infernal?” he repeats with uncensored anxiety.

What the fuck was his master doing with the language of devils?

Cazador was a right bastard, but he was not a devil. Not in the traditional sense, at the very least.

“Shit.” She curses, catching him by surprise.

This is not her burden, so why is she so upset?

“We’ll figure it out. Perhaps I can draw it on paper and find someone to translate,” Tav hurriedly replies as if she’s done something wrong. She stands from the ground, dirt pressed into the knees of her trousers. “Karlach might—” 

“No.”  

Astarion interrupts, shutting down the thought before it can cross her tongue. She freezes, halfway between kneeling and standing at full height.

Meeting her gaze he deflates, shaking his head. 

“No, I… I’m not ready to involve anyone else.” His tongue is as heavy as lead. “Just you.”

Only you, Tav.

He cannot trust anyone else in this camp. He shouldn’t even be trusting her. Yet she has given him her life source, her blood, over a dozen times. She’s confided in her fears, her worries, without expecting payment. She’s provided shelter, weaponry—

Something akin to a home, even if that concept is all but foreign to him at this age.

Her face softens in that way he likes.

“Okay,” she promises. “Just me.”

Someone stirs in a tent at the other end of the camp. Gale opens the entrance of his tent, and Tav is quick: she shoves him back into their shared tent, out of view.

Her boot kicks and slides, erasing the image beneath her feet.

He realizes a beat too late: she’s covering the evidence.

(She’s keeping his secret.)

“Get dressed,” she adds, nodding to the shirt he left draped on her chair. She fixes her own clothes, readying for the breakfast fire.

Except he isn’t ready to let this go.

“...Tav.”

When she turns, the vampire is quick — he catches her wrist once more, tethering himself to her.

Before she can ask, Astarion gently pulls her back into the tent.

He realizes he’s never once called her by her first name.

In all the weeks they’ve traveled together, it’s always been a passing pet name. Flowery words for a wood elf; a body over a person. And now?

The man waits to catch her eye. Slowly, slowly, he raises her wrist to his mouth. His lips purse to press a gentle and chaste kiss to the heartbeat of her inner wrist.

Tav’s lips part, eyelids fluttering in a flurry of flustered surprise. 

Astarion will burn that image into his memory, evermore.

“What you’ve given me these last few weeks,” he begins with purpose. “It is a gift. All of it.”

She relaxes, wrist limp when he presses an additional peck to the skin. Her blood is thrumming with life. Excitement. Anticipation.

His voice is but a murmur.

“I will not forget this.”

There: the wood elf bites her lip, and pride surges through his body. It’s a mannerism he recognizes all too well — he has seen the tell-tale sign on thousands of faceless people, on hundreds of the victims he lured home in dirty taverns and hidden alleyways and plush brothels. 

He knows the script. He knows what he could push.

Yet seeing that look on her of all people stirs a feeling in his belly to the point where he is starving— not for blood, but for her.

To be consumed by something, rather than consume it himself.

He lets her go, his phantom heart beating wildly in his chest. Tav takes a modest step back.

She stares for one more precious minute, chin dropping to an understanding nod, before leaving him to help Gale start the morning fire.

No god has ever answered his prayers.

In the dirt, buried alive, he thought he begged every single one — yet now he fears he missed the one who could have saved him.

(The one who may save him yet.)

.

#astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #astarion x tav fanfic #astarion x tav fanfiction #astarion x tav fic #bg3 fic #astarion fic #astarion x f!reader #wip series #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #fic: the better strategy #amywritesthings

[the-gateway-to-madness]

Not Everything Requires Magic- Gale x Fem!Tav

I can't believe BG3 has captured my brain enough for me to write fanfic blurbs but here we are, so-

Synopsis: Gale notices Tav, human cleric of Ilmater, weathering some discomfort, and realizes she's out of spells. With the help of one of his beloved books, he proceeds to assist her the old-fashioned way.

It was no secret that Gale of Waterdeep spent most of his free time with his head down, mind occupied by one book or another. There was very little else in his tent, actually- a messy bedroll, and a large pile of books, the latter being his favorite things on this or any other plane.

Time was, he'd have easily and even eagerly shrunk away from his traveling companions to attend to the very important matter of sticking his head back in a book. But since then there'd been a hand offered to him- a hand that had pulled him out of a malfunctioning magical stone, a hand that had offered him protection against shadow and steel, a hand that had remained open in welcome even after learning about the volatile Netherese magic in his chest.

He'd been truly, deeply, unbelievably grateful for such kindnesses. He'd even tried to return the favor the only way he knew how- through the Weave, his life, his self, guiding those hands that had been so gentle with him to channel a fragment of his world. It turned out to be a two-edged blade, however. Gale had found himself transfixed by the way the Weave curled around her battle-worn hands and fingers.

Whatever spell she'd trapped him in that night hadn't faded. Gale found his focus straying from his books and studies, often attempting to read her instead of them. He memorized the way her short hair moved in its little ponytail, knew instinctively the shape of the fluffy-looking tufts that fell in front of her ears. He knew they drove her crazy, too, the way she kept trying to tuck them back. Did she keep her hair even shorter when she wasn't on the road, so as not to irritate her? Gale wasn't sure, but he was sure that he never would have wondered anything like this about someone before her.

Now, he was once again pulled from his book by the sight of her across camp. He'd chosen a spot that he'd hoped would make her less distracting, but as nights passed here in Shar's shadow, he found himself regretting that choice. Every night he found himself studying Tav, every day trying to absorb as much of the sight of her as he could. He'd noticed faint gray streaking her hair, barely noticeable, but quite endearing to him, he found. He also found himself theorizing where and when she'd gotten the two thin scars on her face. No doubt sacrificing herself to protect some innocent, living up to the teachings of her god, Ilmater. She still did so- attempting to help them all with their problems and ignoring her own for their sake, to be strong enough, to lead them to victory.

Tonight, Gale noticed her trying to subtly rub and stretch her neck, and felt a spark of pity and concern for her. He knew Tav had run clean out of spells, healing everyone else after the fight that afternoon. She'd left nothing for herself, as usual when resources ran short. Luckily she wasn't injured, but she still deserved not to be in pain- even if it was just mild and muscular.

Gale frowned a bit, then rummaged through his books. He found one diagramming pressure points in the human body- one he'd often used to relieve the pain in his own legs and feet and back (only when Tav wasn't looking, of course, or she'd have healed him herself).

Tav looked up at him as he approached. "Hi," she said quietly, scooting over on her bedroll. "Care to sit?"

Gale smiled and took the invitation, grunting a bit. "Thank you," he said. "How are you holding up?"

She stiffened slightly, as she always did when anyone tried to check on her. "You know me. Ready for anything," she said, forcing some spunk into her tone, before wincing and pressing a hand to her shoulder. "Well. After a night's rest, anyway.

"Hm." Gale looked at her with concern, leaning forward a bit to try to read her face better.

Tav looked at him and sighed a bit. She knew that look on his face all too well. "It's really nothing to worry about, Gale, I swear. A little stiff here and there, that's all-"

Gale hummed softly again, then quietly said, "Turn with your back to me, please."

"There's no point in arguing with you, is there," Tav said dryly.

"Not in the slightest, my lady," Gale smirked, and he caught Tav suppressing a grin as she shifted to sit with her back to him.

Gale flipped open his book to a diagram of pressure points in the neck and shoulders, and began gently (but not so much so as to tickle her) feeling for ones that were carrying tension.

He found two or three and began working out the tightness in her muscles with his thumbs and knuckles. Tav was stiff at first, but slowly relaxed under his touch. She gave a shuddering sigh, shoulders slowly dropping as Gale took away all the signs of the weight on them.

Meanwhile, he found a strange ecstasy bubbling and bursting in his chest. What an unbearable delight it was to really help her- to finally remove even a small burden of hers, to repay everything she'd done. To make her sacrifices worth something... make it clear that to him, they were worth everything.

Gale didn't let up until he could both feel under his fingers and see the reduced tension in Tav's body language, whereupon she took a deep breath and let herself relax. He'd never seen her so- calm and strangely un-composed.

"Thank you," Tav said genuinely. "I hadn't even realized I had a headache."

Gale smiled, a pleasant warmth rousing in his chest. "Of course," he said. He glanced up as droplets of rain began to fall through the distant shadows above. "Come on." He closed his book and stood, offering her a hand.

"Where are we going?" Tav asked, letting him pull her to her feet.

"Well, you can't sleep out here, you'll catch cold," Gale pointed out reasonably, bending to roll up her bedroll and tucking it under his arm. "I won't lay a hand on you if you don't want me to, but you at least ought to stay in a tent tonight."

Tav restrained another smile- very poorly. "Such a gentleman. Alright, okay. If you can figure out how to rearrange all those books in your tent so we'll both fit."

Gale chuckled- once, such teasing would have made him defensive. With her, it only made him feel even more warmth. "You'll find there's not a man in Faerûn who can maximize the number of books in a space like me."

"I believe that," Tav chuckled with him. He adjusted her bedroll under his arm, and she gently took his book from him as they began to head for his tent. "Where'd you find this, anyway?"

"Truly and honestly? In that ruined village with all the goblins-"

"You did not."

"Are you really surprised I could find books anywhere?"

Tav laughed, genuinely laughed. "No, Gale. That doesn't surprise me in the slightest." She held up the tent flap for him, and he bowed in gratitude before crawling inside.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #baldurs gate tav #tav x gale #baldurs gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate iii #gale x tav