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fandom-go-round · 7 months

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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.

Karlach:

She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

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rolanpilled · 6 months

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BG3 Patch 5 Spoilers

WARNING: BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD!

New content from the ending scene of BG3. This is all from the perspective of a redeemed Dark Urge who romanced Shadowheart and Halsin, and recruited every "good" ally possible.

people at the party: all your companions, scratch, owlbear, volo, and a bard in the middle playing a song (his name is milil)

lae'zel is the only one who isn't here physically, she sent an astral projection instead because she's been busy fighting vlaakith

astarion explains why he ran away (ashamed) when the sunlight hit him, he's become a "hero" who adventures and has accepted himself

(romanced halsin) you can hug halsin, he's missed his friends and you. you can do both the hug and the kiss, it's really sweet. he's turned the shadowlands into a community, repursing reithwin and moonrise towers into homes for people

jaheira's daughter rejoined the flaming fist, she's been working on rebuilding the harper network. the upper city was entirely destroyed by the battle but has been mostly rebuilt. she jokes that you might be a parent soon

wyll gives you a choice between three stories, a stegosaur/dinosaur battle, an impossible lich, or a young dragon. he lost his warlock powers but has been managing the best he can, and has become a RANGER ("a true hunter of monsters"). duke ravengard is commanding the flaming fist and help rebuilding the city, and he's very proud of his son

minsc and boo guard the streets while jaheira is "occupied with harperish manners". they "went to give a tickle" to the zhentarim, then got locked up in a zhentish cell, awaiting execution? idk if i'm reading incorrectly but he seems to be implying that he actually GOT executed but withers brought him back just in time lmfao

gale has become "professor gale dekarios of blackstaff academy, educator of the esteemed school of illusion". tara is with him. he surrended the crown of karsus to mystra, who cured him of the orb in exchange (his tattoo is gone), though his students still think he's explosive (he implies that he uses it as a threat to keep his class under control). he tells his students about your adventures together. he also implies you're welcome to visit his tower

shadowheart (main romance) - the game told me that we settled down together to live a happy, peaceful life on a farm in the countryside. shar still hurts her (if parents are saved), especially when she can sense that SH is enjoying herself, but it's been getting less frequent because she's been "losing interest". there's a new hug and kiss scene for her too, so i'm assuming this is for ALL companions and not just halsin/SH/whoever

withers will speak to you about karlach, explaining that she won't be able to come back. he jokes about her, which is rare for him, and you're given to opportunity to grieve her loss. in "a dozen tendays" (assumedly how long bg3 is), "an entire life was lived, she lived several centuries" (not exact quote).

milil, the bard playing in the center, does NOT want to be there. he's pissed that no one recognizes him (he's pissed specifically that i'm a bard and don't recognize him), i had to pass a deception check to recognize him and he cheered up and offered to change the song he's playing

there's a chest called "Chest of Grateful Words" filled with letters from your allies!

"Official Guild Letter"

"Letter from Barcus"

"Letter from Art"

"Letter from Valeria"

"Letter from Ravengard"

"Letter from Sebastian"

"Letter from Florrick"

"Letter from the Gur" (unascended Astarion)

"Letter from Alfira" (durge, killed quil grootslang)

"Letter from Dammon"

"Letter from Elminster"

"Letter from Nocturne"

"Letter from Voss"

"Letter from Hope"

"Letter from Mayrina"

"Letter from Nine-Fingers"

"Letter from Zevlor"

"Harp-stamped Letter"

Baldur's Mouth Gazette

If you find anything interesting I missed, please let me know.

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artsycrapfromsai · 8 months

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[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]

Some more Amaryllis and Astarion doodles fjgjhcjg (Amaryllis is my unicorn girl DnD character I'm using as my elf tav!!)

Amaryllis hates Volo and i feel like Astarion would find it endlessly amusing that, out of all the people they've dealt with so far, and how annoyingly/confusingly helpful and non judgemental she is, the one person she really, really hates is... Volo.

Volo. Really irritates her fjghfjf i think at this point Astarion kind of assumed she didn't have the capacity to hate anyone bc she's just so weird, and it's kind of a relief she does??? Also he loves petty drama, so this is great entertainment for him

Amaryllis would fall head over heels for the Owlbear cub and want to hug and pet and cuddle it so much

She does, in fact, wear red to hide blood! (Not her blood, in her og campaign her blood is silvery- it's to hide blood after she punches people into mush. Cleaning blood out of clothes is hard ok!!! She wants to wear cute things when she fights, it just makes things easier)

I feel like her saying that would... Add another mark of confusion for Astarion, who figured he was starting to understand her at this point ("nice, helpful, stupidly kind, got it"), but then she just says something extremely blunt and morbid and that throws him for a loop

Amy also loves studying and reading and discussing stuff, and would probably end up talking for hours with Gale about magical theory. The idea of Astarion getting jealous over that is really funny to me fjbjbcj

Astarion, catching feelings for the weird, nice, thoughtful, embroidery girl: ??????? Stop that @ himself

(im still trying to figure out how to draw Astarion fjghjvcjv)

#amaryllis #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 #bg3 oc #original characters #ocs #my art #doodles #comics #bg3 gale #bg3 shadowheart

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seradyn · 4 months

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Fruit of Our Labor

Summary: Tav accidentally calls Astarion ‘pumpkin’ in a moment of thoughtlessness. What follows is a gentle baring of souls neither could have anticipated.

Pure tooth rotting fluff. Set in late act 1 although the relationship is much closer to where it is in act 2, but fuck it, we ball.

Also happy Valentine’s Day, this wasn’t meant to be a valentine’s fic but I just so happened to get a surge of motivation to finish it today so here we are.

Word count: 2944

Warnings: references to abuse

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It slipped out one night, while you were all sat around the fire.

The others were busy dividing up the spoils from the day’s adventures - equipment and coin passed around to those who needed it. A hearty stew, courtesy of Gale, sat warmly in your bellies, staving off the night’s chill while packs were passed around over idle chatter. The fire crackled and popped in the center of camp, but it was drowned out by the sounds of Scratch’s excited barks and the owlbear’s deep coos. They were roughhousing, no doubt.

You watched your companions fondly from your place curled up on Astarion’s lap, held snugly to his chest in a loose embrace. Surrounded by a nest of pillows that smelled of him, you felt pleasantly warm, despite his cold skin. He held a book out in front of you both, resting his chin on your head as he read, the rustle of pages being turned soothing you. You were sure if he was still alive, you could hear the gentle thumping of his heart beneath your ear, lulling you into a blissful sleep.

The evenings you two spent together, wrapped up in each other's scents, your shared warmth, had become a balm to your taxed souls. Some days it was all that kept you going, the promise of being soothed, comforted in a way that eased your wounds, either to your flesh or to your heart. His voice was a spell, his touch an enchantment, and you found yourself unable to resist his charms. He’d made you laugh on more occasions than you could count with his silver tongue, and his deep seductive purrs sent shivers to places you dare not name. Yes, you’d fallen for him. Hard.

Yet, you knew Astarion felt much the same way about you, even if he couldn’t admit it. You heard the soft sighs that parted his lips, saw the smiles that were real, like he’d glimpsed a piece of heaven, and it sat curled in his lap. The rays of sunlight he’d come to crave couldn’t hold a candle to your warmth, his undead body soaking it up greedily every time you were close. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine being embraced by the sun, with your voice a whisper on her gentle lips. He could never get enough of it. Of you.

It had taken many moons before Astarion was comfortable displaying this much affection openly. He kept the truth of his feelings close to his breast to protect himself, and from what he told you, you couldn’t say you blamed him. In his old life, before the mindflayers, affection was weakness, caring was weakness. And weakness was unacceptable, not for Cazador. He allowed no such things for his spawn, and if he found it, it would be corrected through nights of agonized bloodshed.

So you held Astarion’s hand as he learned. He was no stranger to intimacy, to late nights spent on his back, but this…this was all so very new to him. What was to hold hands, to hug, to cuddle? He may have known once, but that had been left in his grave, delivered from him by that kiss of death. You took care to remind him it was okay to take things slow, to not jump into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. You were patient. All you wanted was him to be happy, after all. Even if you weren’t sure he knew that, or would believe you if you told him.

Despite being his beloved partner, though, Astarion was still Astarion after all, and you found yourself on the end of no small amount of teasing. He always loved calling you pet names, clicking his tongue with a smirk as he purred ‘darling’, ‘beautiful’; a spider spinning a web around his unsuspecting prey. As much as it wounded your pride to admit it, you quite liked being his prey. You offered up your neck with growing delight, stifling moans and shudders each night he fed.

He enjoyed teasing you about that, too, much to your chagrin.

You weren’t going to let him have all the fun, though. Words were easy to coat in honey, and soon the whole camp rolled their eyes as you two bantered like a love sick couple. Worst of all was the pet names, which you two shot back at each other like arrows at waring rivals. ‘Little star’ made Astarion scowl in that oh so adorable way, while ‘honey’ had him preening proudly. It was fun, it was easy, and it made the unspoken emotions between you two easier to ignore.

Until it didn’t.

Once supplies had been distributed, the camp began discussing the plan for the following day. Moonrise Towers loomed far off in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, your fates locked behind its black gates. Your group would need to pick up the pace if you wanted to arrive within the next fortnight. But Lae’zel was adamant - she needed to visit the nearby crèche, and made it clear she would venture to it with or without company. She was stubborn as a mule, and Shadowheart was more than happy to seize the opportunity to lock horns with her.

You sighed as you watched the growing argument unfold. Those two could fight over the color of the sky, and somehow it always fell to you to make them see reason. Gale and Karlach tried desperately to keep things under control, but even Wyll had no luck with them. Halsin watched with a frown on his face, but knew intervening was futile. They listened to you - you weren’t sure why, but they did.

You felt Astarion turn his head towards the commotion, pursing his lips in annoyance. Normally, he delighted in conflict, especially between Shadowheart and Lae’zel, but now that he knew it would mean your own involvement, having you snatched away ruined any enjoyment he may have found in it.

“And what does our charismatic little leader think we should do?” He whispered, hoping it would distract you from your duties. You decided to let it too, burying yourself deeper into his chest, sighing deeply his scent of bergamot and rosemary. You did not want to deal with their bickering right now. You had yet to fight off a drowsiness that crept over you while you lounged in his lap, which was the only explanation you could think of for what you said next.

“We’ll just have to see what tomorrow brings, pumpkin.”

“Pumpkin?!” Astarion stiffened beneath you, a scowl appearing on his face as the tranquil atmosphere dissolved. You blinked at the clear offense in his tone, leaning back to gaze at his disgruntled expression, worry set in your own features.

“Excuse me, darling, but what exactly do I have in common with some unsightly gourd?” He huffed indignantly. The camp quieted from his outburst, several heads turning in your direction. They were wise enough to not interfere, though.

Ah, he thought it was a comment on his appearance, you realized with a sinking feeling. Astarion was sensitive to such things, as he’d shown when you learned he’d been unable to see himself since he turned. It was something he took pride in, one of the only things he could well and truly call his own. You hadn’t meant it that way, of course, but you weren’t surprised that’s how he took it, given his history. He hadn’t been overly enthused when you commented on his lovely laugh lines, or the adorable beauty mark just below his left eye, to put it mildly, and now you’d compared him to a lumpy, often deformed fruit. Guilt poked at your heart for your thoughtlessness.

“You have many things in common with pumpkins,” you said calmly. Perhaps he could see the compliment in it yet. He flared his nostrils, but you pressed on before he could protest. “They’re vibrant, beautiful, and tough on the outside, just like you.” You booped his nose playfully. “But they’re also soft, delicious, and wonderful on the inside, just like you.”

Astarion remained tense as he stared at you, scanned you, like a hawk does the calm fields for a stray mouse. The wrinkling of his nose furrowed his brow, and it took every ounce of willpower not to lean up to kiss his doubts away. His gaze slowly began to soften, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Well, I suppose when you put it that way, perhaps we do have some similarities,” he admitted with a huff. Relief flooded your veins as he settled back into the cushions, inviting you back into his lap once he was comfortable. He looped an arm around your waist, holding you close with a gentle squeeze - a silent thank you for the unexpected compliment.

Soon it was decided; you would be taking Lae’zel to see her kin the following day. There were grumbles here and there about acquiescence to the warrior’s demands, but you made it clear she was your ally as much as any of them. With plans made and bellies full, most retired to their tents, intent on getting some rest. You found yourself settling in Astarion’s, naturally. Honestly, you sometimes wondered why you bothered to put up your own tent at all. Even your small collection of books had come to join his, stacked unorganized in a corner. You carefully plucked one from the tower, sitting down with it as Astarion continued to fuss with the various blankets strewn about.

Eventually, you felt him settle, a contented sigh parting his lips. You peeked at him over the top of your book, and was surprised to find his eyes on you.

“So…about that, little pet name…” he began, his voice a low purr. You felt your cheeks flush a lovely crimson as you lowered your book, you weren’t sure if from embarrassment or from his tone.

“Ah - I’m sorry, my love,” you said sheepishly. Perhaps he was still upset about it. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” he said, catching you off guard.

He wasn’t upset?

“I only hope you’ll try to refrain from calling me such things in front of our companions,” He explained. “I do have a reputation to uphold.” Another smirk spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Appearances were very important to Astarion, and though you couldn’t say you understood it, you would respect his boundaries. “‘Course ‘Star, I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Good,” he hummed, planting a soft kiss on your temple. Your lips spread in an involuntary smile as you returned to your book, a calmness returning to the tent. Though, Astarion was rarely happy with silence, and you noticed him still hovering on the edge of your periphery.

“You know,” he drawled, ducking his head to catch your gaze. You locked eyes with him, those beautiful rubies, getting lost in how they nearly glowed in the dim light.

“You do call me an awful lot of pet names, darling. Why not settle on one?”

You lowered your book again, setting it aside to grant him your full attention. “And pass up the chance to tell you all the different ways I find you beautiful? I think not.”

Astarion seemed taken aback momentarily by your answer, before he quickly recovered, puffing out his chest and smirking pridefully.

“Darling, you’re allowed to just call me beautiful,” he said, examining his nails. “I certainly wouldn’t mind hearing it more.”

It was barely detectable, but you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice. Your smile faltered. Astarion told you enough about his past for you to know how his looks had been twisted for his master’s use; put on display and paraded around like a beloved doll. Early on in your relationship, he had made it clear he thought your interest in him stemmed from that alone, his looks. It was all he’d ever known, all anyone wanted him for. It was natural for him to believe you were the same.

You vowed to yourself that you would always make sure to remind him that was not the reason you pursued him. Yes, he was handsome, that fact was undeniable, but it was not what led you to seek him out, what had led to your trysts that turned into something more. You made a promise to always remind him of that, no matter how long it took until he believed it.

“My love…” you said softly, the words falling easily from your lips as you grabbed his free hand and held it close to your chest. Astarion stiffened at the sudden contact, and you paused, allowing him to pull away if he so desired. He never did though, and you took that as a sign to continue, placing gentle kisses on the back of his knuckles. You had to hide a smile when you felt the tension ooze from his muscles. “There are so many things about you that are beautiful, simply saying it would be an injustice.”

Astarion’s eyes widened slightly, and they scanned you for any hint of deceit, any hint of motive behind your words. You smiled warmly at him, hoping he could see all the love and adoration you poured into it.

“I think it’s beautiful when you get excited whenever you snatch a coin purse out of someone’s pocket. It’s beautiful when you tell me about the books you’re reading, and when you pout whenever Gale opens his mouth.”

Astarion let out a sharp laugh at that. He made no secret of his distaste for the wizard.

“But most of all, I think it’s beautiful when you laugh, because I think, even for just that little moment, I get to see you happy. So yes, that’s why all the pet names. Because not one of them could fully capture how beautiful you really are.”

“Darling…” he whispered, sounding almost breathless. He sat up a touch, his hand coming up to delicately cup your cheek, his thumb gliding across your skin reverently. He leaned forward, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips ghosted across your own. The kiss was soft and delicate, gentle in a way you knew he reserved only for you. Similarly, you hoped he could feel how much you cared for him in the way you moved your mouth against his.

When you parted, he rested his forehead against yours, breaths intermingling as you held each other close.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

His voice was barely above a whisper, and your heart cracked at hearing the pain etched into it, the disbelief. What didn’t you do to deserve happiness, you wondered, but you knew how he would respond. 200 years of luring people back to a cruel master, a cruel fate, and you knew why he had to ask.

You remembered something he’d said, when you asked him about Cazador and his past. Something that made your chest ache, like it was now.

It was about time those memories were replaced.

“You existed. That was enough for me.”

You could tell he recognized them, his own words. His eyes went wide, lips parting as he heard them echoed back at him. You smiled then, pouring all the unsung emotions into that expression. You hoped he could see it, how your heart beat for him.

And maybe he did, for he quickly pulled you into a nearly crushing embrace, burying his face in your neck. He breathed deeply your scent, your essence, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear should he let go. He couldn’t lose you now. He couldn’t. He wasn’t sure his undead heart could take it.

You returned his embrace, sighing as you felt him relax into your form. You absentmindedly began rubbing circles into his back with the pads of your fingers, tracing the outline of his scars with unconditional reverence. You liked to imagine yourself massaging away some of the pain and torment of his unlife whenever you got the privilege to hold him like this. It made you both feel a little better.

Soon enough though, your body began to sag from exhaustion, the events of your tumultuous journey catching up with you. You leaned out of Astarion’s embrace, earning a slight pout from him, but you quickly assuaged his worries by placing a gentle kiss below his ear.

“We should get some rest,” you murmured, and he hummed in agreement. You laid down across your shared bedroll, opening your arms invitingly for him. He eagerly curled up over you, resting his head on your chest with a sound almost like a purr. Your arms returned around him, one hand coming up to delicately card through his silky curls, massaging his scalp as you closed your eyes.

It was moments like these you had to bite your tongue from saying the words that had begun to echo deep in the cavity of your chest. You called each other ‘love’ in teasing, but outright saying those blasted three words still frightened both of you. Even though you felt it every time you looked at him these days, your heart soaring as easily as an eagle flies, your very veins filled with nothing but adoration. But, you knew he wasn’t ready. He was still navigating the turbulent sea of his past, his present, and the rapidly approaching future. You had no desire to push him beyond what was comfortable for him.

So you would wait. You would wait until he was ready to love you. Ready to be loved. You didn’t mind, really.

You would wait an eternity for him.

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First Astarion fic lets go. Will probably write more in the future, but will also probably focus on my long fic for another game first. Either way hope you enjoy 💕

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion

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