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unreadpoppy · 1 month

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Fic recs

In light of some stuff I saw, I decided to make this post to briefly talk about some fics I really like and recommend them. All are BG3 related and most are Raphael. Also, there's some authors that write a lot of great fics, I'll try to keep one fic per author or else we'll be here forever (but definetly go check everyone and their other works out!)

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Cheerful Oblivion by @sassyandsodone - Read the tags before reading this but Love me dark stuff, the writing is amazing (legitimetly gasped at a few points) and the mix of Tav not remembering what happened and the dehumanization aspects were the cherry on top. It

I Don't Think About You Anymore (But I don't think about you any less) by @sky-kiss - This fic put me in a lot of different feels, ESPECIALLY SAD (which i do like, love when stuff makes me feel) and the ending was unexpected to me but it made it all worth it. Shed a tear or two

Devil's Debauchery by ChildofYugotth - One of the first fics I read on the Raphael tag, the first chapter lives in my mind rent free for many, many days, and I really like how the three chapters kinda go like regular raphael, haarlep and then ascended fiend, like a progression. Also read the tags.

Fallen in Flame by @cambion-companion - Love the dynamic between the two characters and how their relationship developed and the conflicting feeling that Tav has of like, being an aasimar and dealing with a devil

The Devil that knows you by @timesthatneverwere - Cat!Tav was not something I knew I needed before reading this. The relationship between Tav, Raphael and even Haarlep in this one is VERY interesting to me (and has lowkey inspired me some times) and I love seeing Raphael keeping secrets and manipulating people (also i have to mention, this fic gave us the mephisto fuck chamber)

Let the dream begin by DiscordsMuse - POTO inspired, this has hit me in the feels with relating to Morrigans struggles of feeling rejected, and honestly, Raphael as the Phantom was amazing.

finirà bene by @inaconstantstateofchange - A Halsin/Astarion/Tav one for a change, this is such an interesting and heartbreaking concept, but there's also this sense of mystery that I think is really well done. Also, beware the ANGST

Her soul will burn all the way down by khapikat222 - Read the tags, another dark fic that I loved, and this one had this manipulation and fucking with someone's fears that I really liked. Also, props to the author for making the lullaby fit, it was a great cherry on top.

Baldur's gate 3 infernal oneshots by @hrefna-the-raven - chapters 1-4 are a little story between Raphael and Tav that I really liked. The dynamic of raphael being more protective and the cat and mouse analogies were really fun!

The Intimacy of Pain by @bearhugsandshrugs - This is an Abdirak/Tav fic which I found so delightfully good, like the descriptions of how Tav was feeling and the mix of pleasure and pain were really well done

The Devil's Hour by @adarlingwrites - Also one of the first fics in the tag that I read, and what made me like OC x Canon, love the complicated but also interesting to read relationship between Fortune and Raphael, and another aspect that I really liked was Fortune's relationship with art and her parents being brought up like (like idk why but those two things really stuck with me)

Sweetening the Deal by @adevilyoudo - I have to admit that I'm a bit behind on some chapters BUT it's a great work, love seeing this side of Raphael of trying to convince Tav to take this deal (and in a way, almost confusing her even more) and I loved to see the side of the Emperor constantly being in Tav's head, I think it really conveyed well how that feels like when playing the game

The Devil You Share a Room with by @djmorn - Really fun concept and the shennanigans between the two in the beggining, when Tav is reluctant to share a room with Raphael, was a delight to read and really really fun.

Damaged by @dark-and-kawaii - This is a Rolan/Tav one, it's dark but it also tugged at my heart in a sad way, with Rolan feeling all these things and doing what he does because of the abuse he suffered and Tav also trying to understand that. Like aaaa it just, it's some good stuff this fic

Who's the Daddy by Follyfall - This fic is the definition of fun and a good time, I legitimetly laughed a lot while reading it. The writing is fun, the concept is hilarious and the relationship between Raphael, Tav, Haarlep, the baby and Wyll is really really fun.

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Also, keep in mind that there's A LOT of amazing writers in the bg3 community and i haven't read every single written work in the tags ever, so feel free to also reblog and add reccomendations of your own, or make your own post!

#fic rec #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3

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ellekhen · 11 days

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Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 43 - A Touch of Fate

Chapter Summary: After the party fends off an unkindness of shadow-cursed ravens, an ally helps them find a safe place to rest. In this much-needed sanctuary, Church and his companions find a precious moment to heal with each other. However, as another day begins in the Shadowlands, Fate begins to reveal its hand to the tiefling warlock and his friends.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 207K+ words; Chapters 43/65

Excerpt below:

Church’s arm twitches up reflexively, but he stops himself and drops it before Astarion can again flinch away from the touch.

But Astarion catches it this time, gazing into the tiefling’s eyes as he guides the tiefling’s hand to rest against his shoulder.

…and the icy pang of the memory already begins to melt away.

“Sorry,” Church says sheepishly. “It’s an instinct I’m trying to unlearn. I know we got carried away last time with the horn balm and… I know physical affection isn’t comfortable for you and that’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t like—”

“—but I do like it,” Astarion blurts. “When it’s you,” he clarifies hastily. “It feels… safe… when it’s you.”

Church blinks up at him. “Are you sure?”

Ugh, those stupid, wide bright eyes…

Astarion falls forward to wrap his arms around the tiefling, burying his face into the warmth of his shoulder. Church gasps a little under his fervor as the elf’s hands move deliberately — slowly — over his back.

“I like this,” Astarion says simply as his hands come to rest against Church’s shoulder blades. The pads of his fingers absently begin to rub circles where the tiefling’s vestigial wings flex beneath his skin.

“…and besides, for gods’ sake!” the elf blusters. “Who are you to claim you ‘know’ what I want?”

“I’m sorry,” Church says meekly, eyes flicking away in shame. “I didn’t mean…”

“Yes, yes,” Astarion mutters impatiently. “Now, are you going to make me beg for you to do this back or what?”

There’s a beat before Church huffs a laugh, carefully wrapping his arms around the elf’s waist. He smooths his warm hands along Astarion’s back — ever-so-mindful of where his scars sit beneath his clothing.

The two men hold each other.

Breathing.

Waiting.

Thinking.

“I can’t believe I missed out on so many opportunities to do this with you,” Astarion grumbles finally. “It’s… actually nice, it’s…”

“But it didn’t seem that way, back then,” Church whispers. “It annoyed you. It scared you…”

Astarion scoffs bitterly. “Darling… every time someone has ever held me like this, they were either my victim about to die… or Cazador.”

Church pulls away, staring at him with anguish. “Oh. Shit…”

To Astarion’s exasperation, he can hear the tiefling’s heart begin to race as Church stammers, “Oh love, I’m so sorry… I didn’t…!”

“You’re neither of those things, of course,” Astarion interjects quickly. “But just know that it wasn’t ever that I was disgusted with you. Not… exactly, anyway.”

He sighs, experimentally holding up and examining Church’s hand as the tiefling continues to watch him apprehensively.

“I believe I was disgusted with… myself,” Astarion grimaces. “After all, I was made to be touched. And to touch like no one else. And for nearly two centuries, that touch has been… poison.

“Was, poison,” he corrects himself. “But now?”

He presses Church’s hand against his cheek, blinking slowly up at the tiefling.

“It’s a salve,” Astarion says softly. “I think every moment that I get to do this willingly… I feel just a little more alive.”

Church searches his face, hand trembling upon the elf’s cheek as his thumb tentatively begins to stroke the skin there.

“Are you telling me the truth? Or just what I want to hear?” the tiefling asks — a hesitant, hopeful smile tugging upon his lips.

“Well, it’s my truth,” Astarion huffs. “If it also happens to be what you want to hear, then…” he shrugs. “I suppose I got lucky.”

He looks back at Church, again nuzzling against his hand. “So, darling. Can I… try more?”

Read from the beginning!

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starions · 3 years

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it burns like fire.

astarion x oc (anya)

2074 words

first meeting (oneshot)

Yavanna stared at the empty champagne glass gripped in her palm, eyeing the condensation still dripping down the glass and onto her hand. One glass, Olsin had told her she was only allowed one glass. More than one would upset her head or make her do something stupid, and Olsin didn’t want to spend his night taking care of her.

Let’s be honest though, Olsin wouldn’t take care of her, he’d have one of their servants do it instead. He was too busy to acknowledge her even now, as he stood back turned to her chatting with some other nobles Yavanna didn’t care to name. He’d barely spoken to her since they arrived, and people were beginning to look at the couple oddly.

She cursed at herself for finishing her glass quickly; it was a delicacy, she knew, but when was the last time she had the privilege to go to a ball? Not in the years she was married to Olsin, and she was only granted the opportunity a few times when she lived with her stepfather. Yavanna wasn’t stupid though; she knew the only reason she was here was because there was a rumor amongst the nobles in Baldur’s Gate. A rumor that she was dead and Olsin was trying to cover it up. Olsin disliked rumors about him just as much as he disliked Yavanna talking back. One way or another, he was taking control of the situation.

But Yavanna would make the most of herself. Tonight was her time to eat the sweetest cakes, dance until she’d have sores in the morning, and pretend she wasn’t shackled into a marriage she’d never wanted. She was here to have fun, but the anxiety heavy in her bones was hindering her night.

A servant stopped in front of her, gesturing to the empty glass in Yavanna’s hand. She hesitated for a moment, yet handed it off. There was no use in holding onto it, secretly wishing for the golden liquid to reappear in the glass. Yavanna watched the servant’s retreating form, a part of her wanting to grab their attention once again and ask for a second glass. That would mean breaking Olsin’s rules, and she didn't want to think of those consequences.

Yavanna pushed a lock of auburn hair behind her pointed ears and shifted in her heels; they were gold, to match her dress; to match her skin; to match her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she dressed so elegantly, and she equally couldn’t believe Olsin would let her wear something so exposing. The dress had a deep cut down her chest, with a high slit down the thigh to show her legs. It was as if Olsin wanted wandering eyes on her, she hadn’t the idea why.

She gazed longingly at the ballroom, envying the loving couples dancing on the marble floor. The weeping violins created a melancholic ache in Yavanna’s heart; she hadn’t danced in a long time, much less with a lover. Yavanna rubbed her arms as she scanned the room; no one seemed as awkward as her, as out of place. Her eyes stopped abruptly as she was met with a ruby red gaze from across the room. The elf with a head of silver curls stared her down as he tipped a wine glass to his mouth. Yavanna watched with wide eyes as a stream of wine dripped down the corner of his mouth. He gathered the wine with his thumb and sucked it off.

Her skin raised under her hands and her blood pulsed in her ears. Her instincts were telling her to look away, but his eyes were tantalizing. Though, for some reason, she was beginning to feel like a rabbit under the eye of a wolf. With his unbreakable leer and devilish smirk, Yavanna knew this man was dangerous.

The sudden change of the orchestra made Yavanna shift her focus back to the crowd. She let out a soft gasp— she knew this song. It was the same song her and her mother would dance to when they lived in the inn just outside the city. Yavanna bit her lip in excitement, watching as the crowd broke off into dance, switching partners every time they swirled to the music.

“Olsin,” Yavanna said before she could stop herself, “Olsin, can I dance?”

The raven haired elf turned at the sound of his name, brown-almost-black eyes narrowing down at his wife with a sneer that made Yavanna shiver. At the time of their betrothal, Yavanna thought he was the most beautiful man in Baldur’s Gate. Now she saw through his facade. “What?” Olsin said, poison dripping off his tongue.

“I-I wanted to know if I could dance.” The song would be over soon, and she didn’t want to miss out on her chance to have some excitement tonight.

“Why would I-” Olsin stopped abruptly, noticing the odd stares coming from his noble friends. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Of course wife, go dance.”

Before he could change his mind, Yavanna had grabbed the hand of a dancer on the floor and joined the crowd. She stumbled a bit on her feet in excitement, but regained her composure once she twirled on her heels with the rest of the crowd. She could barely hear the music over the sound of laughter and the jangle of her jewelry, but still, it didn’t bother her. The tempo was quick, nothing like the sad song from before, and Yavanna lost count of how many dance partners she switched from. If she had more than one glass of champagne, she’d surely be vomiting on the floor.

Yavanna’s hand was suddenly met with a cold embrace, and her eyes widened when she met the red eyes of the silver haired man from before. She thought he was handsome before, but he was beautiful up close. Eerily so. Just as their hands locked together, her song ended and a new one began. A romantic one, no doubt— a song of love.

The man smiled down at her as the music changed, his free hand resting delicately on her shoulder. “Care to share this song with me, darling?” He asked. Yavanna couldn’t get over how cold his hands were.

Yavanna craned her neck to the last place she saw Olsin, but couldn’t spot him. She was wary of sharing a dance with another man, but Olsin wouldn’t dance with her. She might not get this opportunity again. She turned her head again, this time to look into those ruby eyes, and nodded.

They glided to the sound of the harp, and Yavanna’s heart skipped a beat. She felt like she was walking on air, on top of the world. The stranger led this dance well. He’d done this before, probably with countless partners such as herself.

He leaned in closer, so their chests were nearly touching. “I didn’t get your name.”

“I didn’t give it,” she replied, stepping back a tad to distance herself from him. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks.

He let out a mock gasp and shook his head. “I’m wounded. Though, I suspect a pretty lady like you must have a pretty name.”

The blush spread to the pointed tips of her ears. “My name is Yavanna.” She didn’t know why she gave her name up so easily. One compliment and she was spilling all her secrets.

“Yavanna,” he stressed out the syllables in tune to the music. He smiled wide, and Yavanna swallowed dryly at the sight of his sharp canines. “I’ve been watching you, Yavanna.”

Yavanna’s mind flashed back to his lingering gaze minutes before, and her eyes shifted to their moving feet. “I noticed.”

“You seem so bored here,” Astarion said with a sigh. He paused to twirl her, and she could feel her braided updo loosen at the movement. “I have a few ideas on how we can... liven up this evening.”

Yavanna caught on quickly—the unbreakable gaze, the show he put on drinking his wine, and now his hand falling from her shoulder to her waist. She wasn’t naive. A part of her was begging to sneak out, to have some fun. The sensible part of her knew that actions had consequences. “I don’t think my husband would like that.”

The pale elf let out a laugh as he dipped her. “They seldom do, do they?”

The song ended, and Yavanna let out a sigh of relief. She let go of his hand, and pushed his hand off his waist. “I should go. My husband—”

Before she could finish her sentence, she was met with someone colliding with her back, and fell face first into the stranger’s black and gold top with an oof. She heard an apology from behind her, and the man’s cold hands fell again to her shoulders.

“Are you alright?” He asked, rubbing her shoulders gently.

“I’m fine,” Yavanna said. She pushed herself back, becoming increasingly aware of her compromised position. “My husband will kill me.” Her voice lacked any humor as she stepped backwards to distance herself from the elf. He raised his eyebrows curiously, but before he could open his mouth, Yavanna felt a tight grip on her arm.

“We’re leaving,” Olsin said. He’d pushed himself through the crowd, earning himself glares in his wake. “Now.”

“B-but, I didn’t get to dance—”

“You’ve danced enough.” Olsin’s eyes glared down the silver haired elf. He towered over him, even with the stranger’s heeled boots. “You touch my wife again, and you’ll regret it.”

His eyes flickered to Yavanna’s watering ones, and he gave Olsin a tight smile. “Of course, My Lord. It won’t happen again.”

Olsin let out a hmph as he turned on his heel, dragging Yavanna with him. Tears fell freely, out of embarrassment or fear she didn’t know. Onlookers watched as Olsin dragged her out of the ballroom, hands to their mouths as they whispered to each other. Yavanna glanced over her shoulder, meeting the gaze of ruby red eyes for the last time.

Anya couldn’t break her stare from the silver haired elf from across the fire. If Astarion recognized her from that night, he didn’t say anything. Maybe he didn’t want her to know, or maybe he couldn’t care less enough to remind her.

Anya remembered him though; almost immediately in fact. She’d never forget how those red eyes of his trailed up and down her body that night, how his posh accent rang in her ears, how cold his touch felt. After that night, she’d fantasize about running away with the handsome stranger from the ball, and how different her life would have been if she did.

It was odd seeing him again; he used to be just a figment of her imagination. Just a way to escape, she supposed.

Astarion finally glanced up from his book, raising an eyebrow at the sun elf. “You’re staring at me again. What do you want?”

Anya paused, wondering if she should tell him they’ve met before. She decided to approach the topic vaguely. “Did you go to any balls back in Baldur’s Gate?”

He looked at her curiously, titling his head. “I’m a noble magistrate. Of course I go to balls. And wine tastings. And parties. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Anya hummed, leaving it at that. It seemed that he didn’t remember her, after all. She was actually relieved, strangely. Her past in Baldur’s Gate was something she’d like to forget, though her memories always seemed to come back to haunt her.

For all she cared, Yavanna of House Sionnodel was dead or missing or both. For the last decade, she’d simply been Anya. A year after that ball was when she finally ran from Baldur’s Gate, and although she could still feel the fear she had running through the forests outside the city, she could still remember the relief and happiness too. She’d like to keep it that way, and the less people who knew about her past, the better.

Anya gazed back at the fire, as the wood crackled and the flames danced. Some say a person could see their future if they stared hard enough into the belly of the fire, but all Anya could see was the elf with curls of silver through the flame.

The name Yavanna brought her nothing but pain and misery, but it strangely sounded sweet coming from his lips.

#astarion #astarion x oc #oc: anya #bg3 #otp: blood and soul #TUMBLR PLS LET THIS SHOW UP IN TAGS IM BEGINNING ON MY KNEES #*BEGGING wow #why does it keep doing this to meeee i just wanna share my writing #ANYWAY ... anya daydreaming abt astarion like he wasnt gonna drag her to cazadors to have her blood drained #she kinda dodged a bullet #hannah writes

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