#|| If you have Gale in your party when you pick Astarion up he says that if Astarion cuts you he's going to incinerate him.

[little-tyrant-gortash]

"I speak, you obey" Enver Gortash vs. "I speak, they burn" Gale Dekarios- 👀

#|| If you have Gale in your party when you pick Astarion up he says that if Astarion cuts you he's going to incinerate him. #|| Which is cute especially because you've just met. :3 #|| ............in my next Tavtash fic I might just throw Tav at Gale because of reasons. Just. Protective Gale against a smug mofo Gortash. #little tyrant [enver gortash] #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #enver gortash #archduke enver gortash #lord enver gortash #tavtash #Gale Dekarios #Gale of Waterdeep

[twi-liight]

Petty Jealousy ❣

Tav's companions cannot fathom them potentially having other friends. ❥ Astarion/reader, Astarion/Tav, but also Companions/reader. I'm a Tavrem supremacist. ❥ Contains my own personal headcanon for why the companions call them "Tav" instead of their first name, which is justification for me loopholing the eternal problem of xreader writers having to wince when they use "F/N" or "Y/N". ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav/reader!

“Look,” Astarion hisses, “look at that!” 

5 pairs of eyes land on the offender of the night (which, to their surprise, isn’t Astarion) who conversed pleasantly with the leader of their party. A half-elf with a sharp jaw, proud brow, and mirthful eyes looks extraordinarily ordinary compared to their merry band of freaks. 

“Who is that, again?” Shadowheart asks absently. “Tav suggested I rest for today instead of mapping out the Underdark with the party, and the next thing I know, they’ve brought back another little companion.” 

Astarion’s jaw twitches. He snaps out, “Companion or complication?”

Gale crosses his arms, shrugging, used to Astarion’s temper running hot then cold. “His name is Nilmorn - a luthier. Tav took an interest in his wares. He makes a living selling stringed instruments in the Underdark. Strange place to sell such things.” 

Ugh. Astarion sighs, shaking his head. Leave it to Gale to traipse over the obvious. A sharpened mind like his would surely know that this Nilmorn has no place here, if not to be a bloodbag for him to slurp on. Beyond that, what use does this pretty boy have? Nilmorn sells wares that are utterly useless to them. He’s quite boring and one-dimensional, too, a character that strays too much into the side of “moral good” for Astarion to tolerate. 

 “Yes, yes, Gale, but have you considered how strange it is that he has invited himself to our camp?” Astarion flares out his hand towards the wizard, as if handing him common sense on his palm. 

“I,” Gale begins, blinking his wet, beautiful brown eyes at Astarion, “invited myself to this journey, Astarion. I am quite hurt you forgot. I thought what we had was special!” 

“Yes, but you’re weird!” Astarion exclaims. “You’re a freak with a bomb in your body because of your situationship with Mystra! That,” Astarion points an accusatory finger in the direction of Nilmorn, in which 5 pairs of eyes look at him again, “is someone so unbelievably normal he doesn’t even have any, any…” He gestures, articulates with his hands to placate his words. 

“No dubious motives?” Shadowheart offers, a smirk coyly playing on her lips. 

“No complicated backstory?” Wyll pipes in. Astarion’s eyes flicker to him, and irritation seeps into his skin when he finds Wyll smiling wryly, as if the warlock is in on some joke he is not picking up on. “No, I don’t know, god that has let him down in some way, shape, or form?” 

“Certainly no skills for fighting.” Lae’zel, thank the gods for Lae’zel. Her smooth voice hides none of her displeasure, and those sharp, slitted eyes stare across the fire to dig daggers into Nilmorn’s back. “Useless. We have no need for string-ed instruments. Let Tav pick one, and send this half-elf on his way.” 

Yes. Yes. Astarion nods eagerly.

“Hmmm. I almost envy his mundaneity,” Karlach adds,  “but I mean, he’s not that bad, Astari. Man’s just trying to make the world a better place, one string at a time.” 

Astarion almost throws up. He looks to the other companions helplessly. “Darlings. Please tell me you are not going to let Karlach get away with saying something so putridly motivational.” 

Karlach tosses her head back and cackles, much to Astarion's chagrin.

“Something is obviously bothering you,” Shadowheart states bluntly. Her green eyes watch his expression carefully in the firelight; she finds something there, but does not say it outright. With an exhale through her nose, as if it is painful for her to attempt a conversation with him, Shadowheart decides to throw him a bone: “Are you jealous?” 

He does not catch the bone. The bone slams right into his head as he stares at Shadowheart, slack-jawed and scandalized. Him? Jealous? “You must be joking.”

“Aw,” Shadowheart croons, another one of her insufferable smirks toying on her lips, “you are.” 

If he had mindflayer powers beyond reading her reprehensible surface-level thoughts, he would make Shadowheart’s head explode. Or something. 

He must establish his dignity in the group once more. He cannot handle more of this, especially not with Wyll grinning so wide, not self-aware enough that if he did not have a sexy demon controlling his life because he didn’t read the terms of conditions of a motherfucking contract, Astarion would bully him more.

“That is not the point here. Look,” he says. “I am just saying that our Tav is desirable in every way. Physically, we can all agree that Tav is attractive. Yes?” 

Yes. They all nod their heads. 

“Tav is a little strange, but they are our leader, and they got us this far somehow. Who knew caring about other people could go a long way.” 

Yes. They all nod their heads, except Wyll and Karlach, who look amongst the group with sheer disappointment on their faces. “Gods,” Karlach groans into her hand, “we– we need to unpack that later, gang. That’s just really sad.” 

“Lastly, Tav is strong. Strong enough to split apart the mountains and the sky, I imagine.” Strong enough to bury Cazador into the ground, hopefully. “Strong enough to face a god unwaveringly. Strong enough to persevere. Strong enough to be kind, despite everything. Despite what they think, they are charismatic, and they are the entire package. The only person who does not know of their value is Tav themselves.” 

They watch Tav’s lips quirk into a smile as Nilmorn holds a lyre out for them upon his smooth hands. Smooth, no sign of scars, no sign of complications. Just so unbearably mundane. Unbearably good. Unbearably kind. 

Unbearably unaware of their true nature.

Nilmorn does not know why they nicknamed them Tav, despite their name being [F/N]. Their unstoppable quench to loot everything and anything set back their timeline by weeks, no doubt. Reaching into barrels, reaching into the pockets of bandits, reaching into damn silk cocoons, reaching into whatever their curious little hands can salvage. It annoyed Astarion at first, but then Tav would find all of these weapons and armors and foods and coins and books. Normalcies and luxuries that made camp life feel less of a drab and more exciting. 

The gleaming, golden dagger at his side? They found it. The boots, the armor, the enchanted rings and necklaces they either found, bartered, or killed for their companions. Thus - Tav, short for tavara, the word meaning wares and merchandise; a clever little nickname Gale came up for their leader who is too good for all of them combined. 

“Any other party could whisk them away, you know,” Astarion says. “Tav could find a party of good, decent people, unlike any of us, without the mess and complication and hurt we cause them, and leave. Remember, my dears. It is not us who is irreplaceable. It is Tav.” 

How long would Tav tolerate him? Not long, he thinks. Long enough until he has expended his use for them, surely, but not forever. That's why anyone who wants Tav beyond sex or strength is a threat. If he hadn’t seduced his way into their heart, he wouldn’t be here where he stands, with a group of people who make him feel a little less alone. 

No doubt he would be in a cage on the back of a covered wagon that belongs to that disgusting gyr, Gandrel, his chain to Cazador growing shorter and shorter.

Silence. Tense and still. They watch as Tav laughs lightly, eyes alighting with amusement as Nilmorn cracks another joke. 

"You should meet my other companions," they hear Nilmorn offer, "I just know they would love to have you."

Revelation slams into each and every one of them like a magic missile.

“He’s not that funny,” Shadowheart mutters. She bends down, hands gripping tightly around the handle of her mace. “I don’t know why they are laughing that hard.”

“He can try to leave with his head on his shoulders,” snarls Lae’zel, “just say the word, Astarion.” 

Excellent. 

“What-” Wyll turns to Gale and Karlach. “We should stop them, shouldn’t we? There are no implications of this man trying to steal Tav away, he's just being nice, you worthless cunts! This is not fair to him!” 

“We’re in the Underdark, aren’t we? Super deep. Doubt anyone who cares for him will come looking for him.” 

“Karlach!” 

“Astute observation! To make this all a little easier on us, I can most certainly put this man to sleep.” 

“Gale?!” 

“Go on, Lae’zel,” Astarion grins wickedly, “attack!”

“Oh, hells,” Wyll stumbles back, then turns quickly to the other direction towards Halsin. “Halsin! Halsin - they’re trying to murder someone again!” 

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gale x reader #gale x you #shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x you #lae'zel x reader #lae'zel x you #karlach x reader #karlach x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #poor nilmorn. just wanted to sell his lil instruments. dies because he smiles too prettily

[frantic-fiction]

Secluded Evening 18+

(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav

Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion

Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.

Word Count: 2.8k

The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Lae’zel are at each other’s throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldur’s Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but he’s Wyll, so that’s not surprising.

Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. “Tav, I don’t believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. “I will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.”

You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. It’s the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.

“Look, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or you’ll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just ‘had to get,’ then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.” By the end, you’re yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.

You reach out a tentative hand, “Gale, I didn’t—”

“No, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.” He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.

Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Gale’s condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. “Fuck,” you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.

“I must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.” Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.

Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. “Oh, I'm sure,” you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.

It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.

He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. “Darling, I’ve noticed you’ve been very stressed these last few days.”

His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. “I think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?” His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.

You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. “You're right.” His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. “I think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.”

When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.

Astarion’s grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. “Thank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?”

He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.

The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.

It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.

“Well, isn't this just a coincidence?” Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. “I was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.”

You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. “Well, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?”

You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.

Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.

His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. “You asshole.”

He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.

Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.

It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.

Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"

And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.

You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.

You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.

"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.

"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."

"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.

Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.

Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."

"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."

Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.

"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.

You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolves—you're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."

His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.

Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."

Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.

You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.

Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.

The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fast…faster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."

"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.

He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.

The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."

He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.

The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.

As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrust—the metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.

His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."

It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.

You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.

With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.

Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.

You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.

"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.

You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.

You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "I…" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.

Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his hand—pressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"

Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.

Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.

If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.

Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #fanfic #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #smut #astarion imagine #bg3 astarion #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion smut

[suguann]

OH, DARLING—ASTARION

✎. he’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky, and you have the sneaking suspicion he's upset with you. | wc. 1.3K+

tags. fem!reader, established relationship, jealousy, slight dirty talk, pet names [18+ only]

masterlist

Eighteen days. That’s how long it takes between the Shadowlands and reaching Wyrm’s Crossing. Longer still since you’ve interacted with anyone other than bandits, lost refugees, cult-crazed lunatics, and your merry band of weirdos (Gale’s words, not yours). 

For once, you’re not picking berries off bushes to offset hunger until you make camp or plucking bramble from your pants when the occasional trail turns out to be safer than the King’s Road. You can finally sit at a bartop and order wine instead of choking down the contents of an ancient bottle of Ithbank you snatched from a cellar in some decrepit village.

That was at least the most tolerable thing you experienced outside the gates, as far as roughing it in the wilds goes.

And it might be your newfound appreciation for city life, of finding an escape from what’s become your current normal—sneaking past goblin-infested camps, waterlogged boots, and haystacks for beds (an upgrade from sleeping on the cold, hard dirt, you suppose)—that lures the Drow twins over to your party walking down from the top floor of the Sharess’ Caress.

“You must be curious after keeping such…” Nym glances over Astarion, Shadowheart, and Karlach, hovering behind you, threatening with blood stains on their clothes and out of place in an establishment full of nobles and wealthy ministers. “Interesting company.”

It’s safe to say you’re uninterested in the twins, but that doesn’t stop your curiosity from piquing when Nym demonstrates her talents with a peach she snatches from a fruit bowl off the nearest table. By the end of it—an obscene display that catches the eye of a few patrons walking by and sends your imagination reeling—you wonder how often she does this to gain clientele. If it’s always so…hands-on.

“So what do you think?” 

You don’t know what to think, oddly confused like that first time Astarion had to spell out for you that he wanted to have sex—you’re going to be so fun to break, pet—a girl who’s every bit the product and trappings of a sheltered fool. 

“Are you interested?”

The mutilated peach in Nym’s hand drips clear fruit juice down her wrist in thin rivulets, collecting at her elbow. You start to shake your head—

Astarion scoffs. “She already has her hands full without your sticky fingers and whatever the hells you’re doing to that innocent peach.” 

Nym’s mouth curls up into a coy smile before her gaze sweeps over to Astarion. “Her lover, I presume?”

“As in, I already tasted said peach while you’re still trying to get your mouth on it; well then, yes. Very much so.”

You slap his chest, your face somehow getting hotter. “Astarion!”

“Darling, we’re in a whorehouse. I assure you they’ve heard worse.”

Nym makes a wordless, amused sound. “Well, if you ever find yourself curious or—” she gives Astarion one last scrutinizing once over and looks at you again “—unsatisfied, you know where to find me and my brother.”

Before you can politely decline, Astarion chips in on your behalf, “Trust me, she’s not.”

He steers you toward the door—I’m never going to look at a silly piece of fruit the same after this—and you don’t miss how he sends the twins a withering stare right before he joins you on the street.

He’s in a perpetually strange mood for the rest of the day, quieter than usual and more sulky. 

You stare at the back of his head as he walks in front of you, bulky pack slung over his shoulder with the books and scrolls you bought earlier, deciding whether you should join him or leave him to his thoughts.

Karlach nudges your shoulder. “Trouble in paradise, soldier?”

“Not really.” You bite your lip. “Should there be?”

Her gaze follows yours to Astarion, and she hums in understanding.

“If you stare at his back any longer, you might burn a hole through it." Heat crawls up your neck, and you try to give her a shove when Astarion looks at both of you over his shoulder, but she doesn't move an inch and laughs instead. "He’s probably upset over finding another pebble in his boot again. Don’t sweat it.”

An unreasonable suggestion, for you know it’s more than another pebble.

He doesn’t say anything once you all reach camp, nor does he give you even the slightest acknowledgment when you walk by his tent on your way to bed or look up from his book—no hello, my sweet readily waiting on his tongue—when you slip a little note under his nose. 

It’s starting to give you the sneaking suspicion he’s upset with you—though you hardly have the faintest idea why.

You’re pulled awake by the quiet, careful shifting of your blanket as someone slips into your bedroll behind you. You stare blearily at the barn's wall, trying to blink away the disorienting feeling still clinging to you like dew on a humid summer day. 

It’s the first brush of sharp incisors against your throat that erases the last vestiges of sleep altogether.

Ah, so he read your note.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you whisper, aware enough to remember the other two people sleeping in the barn with you.

“Have I?”

“You know what I mean.” You tighten your grip on your blanket. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

He kisses the tender spot below your ear. “I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Your breath hitches when his tongue flicks out to taste your skin. 

“Yes, I’m unhappy.”

“Was it because of what that drow said?”

“Hm, be more specific.”

“When she—with the peach.” You squirm a little, a mouse blessedly caught by the tail. “You know.”

His chuckle is soft, faintly mocking.

“Oh, darling. You think I’m jealous?” He runs a thumb over the fluttering pulse in your neck. “How cute.” 

And right before he applies the smallest amount of pressure—

“Well, you would be correct.”

When Astarion works at the laces of your pants, loosening them just enough to slip his hand underneath, you jump at the first cool brush of his fingers tracing across your heated skin. Your muscles jump, jump, jump under his touch, goosebumps prickling along your arms when his hand fits suddenly between your legs. Two soft pats that make you gasp.

“Drippy,” he murmurs. You don’t think your face can get any hotter.

Then he’s hooking two—fuck, three—fingers into you, splitting you open, curling up toward your belly; you can’t bite back the moan that breaks free.

“Hush, pet.”

Nipping at your neck, he scissors his fingers, smiling at your choked, stuttered gasp.

“Do you think I’d let anyone see how you fall apart with a few quick strokes of the fingers? How you sound? How you taste?” 

The questions are followed by his thumb pressing into the achy spot at the apex between your legs, and you don’t mention that he’s doing this with two other people sleeping soundly on the other side of the room. 

“This—” his fingers curl inside you, pressing until he finds soft flesh that makes your legs jerk. “This is all for me—mine—wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod slowly, hand clamped over your mouth to trap the sounds that keep escaping.

“Good, so we understand each other then.”

Your thighs tremble around his wrist. His fangs drag across the thin, breakable column throat, almost like a warning, catching at two identical scars that haven’t fully healed since you’ve let a feral, lost little vampire into your camp before he gives in and bites.

Digging in—messy—you imagine the dribble of red down his pale chin, how he sometimes leaves it there to savor later.

You’re limp and floating in a matter of seconds, your mind blissfully quiet for the first time in days.

“Remember that, darling, the next time someone starts giving you ideas.” After a moment, he whispers: "But I'm also happy you said no."

And he slips out of your bedroll without so much of a creak in the floorboards and out of the barn as if he was never there.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav #bg3 smut #baldur's gate x reader #astarion x you #.things i write

[eeldritchblast]

They’re Not “Playersexual”, You’re Just Biphobic

(I was going to save this until September 23 because I thought that would be an appropriate date, but the Ask I got included in this essay just put me over the edge. So, here it is now. Buckle up.)

Bisexuality/Pansexuality is the attraction to people regardless of gender. About 4% of the USA alone (over 13.6 million people) openly identify as bisexual, according to Gallup’s latest polling. But unfortunately, bi/pan identities are so scary to some folks that they need to make up terms to avoid calling their favourite characters such. Thus, the term “playersexual” was born: a term to describe a game character who is attracted to the player character... regardless of gender.

If that sounds like it’s just a circuitous way of describing a bi/pan character, it’s because it is.

I first heard of the term “playersexual” almost a decade ago, from a Dragon Age fan complaining that Dorian was gay and thus it was “unfair” that she couldn’t romance him as female character. This fan said they wished BioWare would go back to Dragon Age II’s model of everyone being “playersexual” for “equality”.

Now, if you’ve actually played DA:2 and you’re not a bigot, you’re probably rolling your eyes just as hard as I did when I first read such a ridiculous statement. Well, prepare for this next one:

“When you make a male Hawke, Anders and Fenris are gay and Merrill is straight. Opposite is true if you make a female Hawke.”

These people are so afraid of bisexuality that they cannot even fathom its existence. They can believe in dragons and magic, but they cannot believe that a character is simply bi/pan. I find this especially hilarious for Anders, considering he had a canonical boyfriend, as confirmed both in-game and in The World of Thedas: Vol. 2 book.

I truly thought we were past this nonsense in 2023. I really, truly thought that. But then Baldur’s Gate 3 was released in full, and suddenly these same fuckers came out of the woodwork to bend over backwards avoiding calling these characters anything except bi/pan.

Note how in the above Ask, the anonymous questioner actually doubles down on avoiding addressing these two characters in particular as bi/pan!

“Playersexual” doesn’t even truly work for the characters of Baldur’s Gate 3 regardless, because the definition is oriented around attraction to the player character… which these characters are not exclusively attracted to. Here are some examples that prove otherwise:

If neither Lae’zel nor Astarion/Gale/Wyll are in a romance with the PC, Lae’zel will say she plans on propositioning one of the men for sex at the night of the tiefling party. She also flirts with Karlach in party banter.

Shadowheart expresses interest in Karlach, (“I like her. She looks like she could throw me over her shoulder and carry me to safety, should the need arise”) as well as Halsin if he leaves the party, (“he may have been misguided, but I liked looking at him.”)

Astarion flirts with nearly everyone in the party, but to just pick two examples: he mentions Wyll is the type of princely figure he used to dream about marrying, and says to Shadowheart “such a grim name for such a beautiful flower”.

Gale used to date Mystra. He also debatably flirts with Astarion by offering him some blood, after Cazador’s battle.

Wyll flirts with Lae’zel in party banter, and also refers to Halsin as a “delight” and “hunk”.

Karlach seems to have a little crush on Jaheira by the way she reacts to meeting her. She also says of Halsin, “everyone in this camp wants to climb that oak”.

Please keep in mind these are just a few examples I’ve picked out from screening through the dialogue, and there’s even more that prove the attraction to different genders these characters have is not related solely to the player. It’s just part of their identities.

In the Ask sent to me above, the anonymous questioner said they “cannot see Karlach as anything except lesbian and Astarion as gay.” This is just as bad as saying they are “playersexual” in my opinion, because yet again it’s erasing their bisexuality/pansexuality. Worse yet, it’s doing it because of the way the characters act. You cannot measure queerness based on actions and appearances being in line or not with queer stereotypes—it’s not a scale! And bi/pan folks are just as queer as lesbian and gay men, by virtue of simply being bi/pan!

All in all, I think this entire “playersexual” debate boils down to the fact that some people still refuse to see bi/pan identities as anything but “discount straight”. And that’s why people are rightfully angry when folks try to further this myth by pretending bi/pan characters don’t actually exist.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #meta #queerphobia #biphobia #panphobia

[inkyquince]

The idea of Gortash and Astarion being in love with the Durge at the same time is so interesting to me. Because their both fundamentally in love with two different people. Pre-tadpole, Gortash fell for a Durge who was a slave to their urges. Astarion fell for a Durge whos regained autonomy over their mind and now has the ability to choose who they want to be.

This may be a hot take, but idc.

I feel like... From reading everything in game about Gortash and meeting him? He would be so into a redeemed Durge. Like, yeah, slight downside of their morals being a smidge too light now, but oh well.

Dark Urge had gotten free of Bhaal. The one actual barrier between them and also fully going into their plan. Remember, Durge apologised to their father for being so FOND of Gortash, they promised that they'll kill the other Chosen in Bhaal's name, etc. The one controlling all their moves? Their Father.

And they either are/want to be free of him.

Fuck, he's hard. They're so fucking strong and stubborn and perfect.

He uses guile, he uses charisma, he uses everything to get a leg up. He used his body, his joined a gang, all while younger. Now he's here. Nothing he respects more than gaining power and influence without being controlled, if his time in the House of Hope taught him anything, it's that being controlled will lead to being beaten and used and discarded.

Control is what made the Dark Urge so fucking endeared to him in the first place. They're not a mad dog, like Orin. They loose control some times but LOOK at the acts you just played through. They have SO much fucking control compared to what their urges want them to do. Gortash values control so fucking much.

But, just like Gortash, Astarion will fall in love with the Dark Urge, redeemed or not. Even if he remains a spawn, he's so soft with them. He will stay until he can't watch them loose their mind anymore. But ascended? He wants them in his lap, naked and rabid and far gone. He loves them, even as nothing better than a feral dog.

Like.... I think Astarion and Lae'zel and Shadowheart are the ones who will fully love the un-redeemed Dark Urge. Gale, as we can see after the Tiefling Massacre, will stick by you but he fucking HATES your ass for what you put him through. Wyll and Karlach leave. Even if you don't pick the nasty sides in the game, when Dark Urge gives into their... well, urges, they're horrified. Astarion, Lae'zel and Shadowheart, while not ECSTATIC are less incensed about the shit you do. Hell, when you take Bhaal's offer, everyone in the party basically... Says goodbye to the person they loved, EXCEPT Astarion. Even if you break up with him, he says that 1000 years from now, when he's forgotten how to open himself up to people, he shall spare a thought for his little lost mad love.

The fact is, Gortash and Astarion will love the Urge, just in different ways, Redeemed or Not. Hell, if the Dark Urge goes feral, Gortash will still love them properly, I feel. Ascended Astarion, like a normal Tav, will love them as a pet. For the romance of ruling by your side, to bond in blood, to adore you bringing sacrifices to his door like a cat with their prey, Gortash is the dark romance love interest you want.

#wow inky #the moment you send in you draft manuscript you can actually form thoughts around gortash huh #anyway #quinceyeasyspeaky #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #enver gortash #gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge #durge #dark urge x astarion #astarion #ask

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Don't Wanna Be Your Friend (Astarion x GN! Reader)

  This man has a chokehold on me and I have been plagued by this idea for about a week.

Title inspired by the song "i wanna be your girlfriend" by girl in red

CW: Mentions of violence and gore (not descriptive), bit of angst, comfort

(Not my photo. I believe it belongs to Daily Gaming)

Synopsis- You and Astarion are in the middle of a war to prove who can set the best traps. However, a lack of rules seems to have gotten you into a predicament neither one of you had anticipated.

Sometimes you take it a smidge too far. 

 You would love to tell people you are some cunning, daring rogue, but the reality is that you are consistently flying by the seat of your pants. Occasionally it works really well- this was not one of those times.

    You never felt the need to prove anything to anyone.

Well, until you met Astarion. Within the first three days of traveling with him, your confidence and patience began to wear thin. He would make snide comments when watching you attempt to unlock a chest or when you scare off your prey by tripping over a bush. Then he would smirk at you- with that stupid, beautiful smirk.

He enjoys adding salt to the wound by taking on the task you failed at; usually lock picking, sneak attacks, and Gods only knows what else he could make fun of you for. You are very aware that you are not some fancy rogue and it never bothered you until now. You had accepted long ago that you are just a street urchin moving up in the world after teaching yourself the trade.

  The final straw had been when you had placed traps to catch dinner. Your traps had been successful (naturally- traps were your thing) and you brought back three bunnies for Gale’s stew.

Oh, but of course Astarion had something to say. He always has something to say.

  “Oh look at that- how cute. I’m sure sheerluck was on your side,” he quips, “You’ll get better eventually.”

 Thus began the war of all wars.

It started with small traps- nuisances really. Tripwire, a laughing or sleep rune well hidden, and traps that release horrible smells. Then it quickly took a turn for the worst; what were once harmless pranks turned into trip wires that release a swarm of bees, simple pits began to get deeper, and blasting traps that would send either one of you flying into a nearby object. It was never truly life threatening, just questionable.

  Well, except for the bees. The bees were not the greatest thought in hindsight; considering both you and Astarion had to help each other with the bee stings- Shadowheart refusing to be involved. You both laughed and he even complimented you on your cleverness. You swore you could have exploded in that moment.

   You have a massive, childish crush on the man and maybe the competition was your subconscious way of getting closer to him. However, your other companions were getting sick of it pretty quickly. 

  They had all hoped after the Tiefling party that the two of you would put your silly competition to rest so that you could all travel together in peace and they would just have to deal with PDA.

What a silly thing for them to think. PDA hasn't happened, but the pranks did become less risky and less frequent.  You were okay with this change.

   You feel like you and Astarion have become close friends. Even though your tryst didn’t lead to a romantic relationship as you had hoped, you were happy to have Astarion in your life in any capacity. If that was just as a friend- then so be it. 

  Which brings us back to the beginning- when you realize that your ‘trap war’ had paper thin rules and the lack of rules just might be the thing that actually kills you on this journey.

  All you wanted to do was clean yourself off. It had been one last relaxing day before you set off to the Creche, but you had thought you might treat yourself. Baths were rare and far between these days and you want to enjoy it while you have it. However, you were not planning for a simple snare trap to foil your entire evening. 

  You get hoisted up into the air, slammed against the tree, and drop all of your belongings- including the knife you brought ‘just incase’. You glared at the knife and put your hand to your blood fountain of a nose.

 “Traitor,” you whisper with a pout as you look for a way to escape the trap.

  Suddenly, you freeze as instincts kick in. You hear the Gnolls before you see them. Your bloody nose from the impact of the tree had led them to you. They attempt to claw at you- trying to rip you down from the tree. You feel their claws tear into your back, the side of your arms, and one of them even manages to take a swipe at your abdomen as you scramble to escape. The cuts weren't life threatening, but they hurt. A LOT.

  You manage to use the rope to pull yourself up onto one of the tree limbs; allowing you to hide some of your body from the Gnolls, but you now have an arrow protruding out of your right thigh so obviously that isn’t working well either.

  You bite back tears, frozen in fear. You really did not want to die this way and you certainly didn’t want it to be because of Astarion’s trap. You have a feeling he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you died because of him. 

  You can imagine the blame and anger the rest of your companions would direct at him if the worst happened. You imagine the bloodshed- knowing full well that everyone (minus Karlach) would not forgive him for accidentally killing you. Lae’zel would be the first one to put a stake in his chest- her fondness for you is no secret. 

   Your heart thumps painfully at that thought and your resolve hardens. You will not die because you will not let that happen to Astarion. 

 You look around, your arms and legs shaking still with the residual shock and fear. You look for any sharp branches, a forgotten knife lodged somewhere, or even something you could cast a cantrip on to distract them. You have no such luck. 

 You resign yourself to your fate- the tears making a reappearance. 

 Unless one of your companions finds you first- you are going to either have to wait for the Gnolls to get bored and leave or they are going to kill you.

You pray to every God you can think of that you will survive the night.

_________________________________________________

 Astarion is trying to not look so desperate as he reads the first page for the hundredth time. 

  You had walked off a little over two hours ago- Lae’zel is on watch while the rest of your companions sleep soundly in their bed rolls. 

 The longer your bedroll remains empty, the more the pit grows in his stomach.

He didn’t know how to navigate your relationship after the tiefling party.

His feelings for you are confusing. The sex had felt different, he enjoys your company immensely, and he likes how warm he feels around you.

Instead of talking to you like a normal person or taking a moment to reflect, he decided to find some common ground- something you could laugh and talk about later. Normalcy.

He set up a snare trap close to the river you were all using to clean off and then a laughter rune trap somewhere on the path to the Creche. Hypothetically, they are very safe traps.

Unless he rigged them wrong? What if you ran into one of them and….

  No, I am sure they are just fine.

 He doesn’t even believe his own lie.

After about another five minutes, the anxiety rolling in his stomach becomes unbearable so he grabs his daggers and sets off in the direction you had gone two hours earlier.

  He walks quickly through the forest, checking his surroundings and looking for evidence that you were close by. As the minutes pass, he feels the hope of finding you safe shrink.

The wind hits his nose and he becomes stock-still.

He smells your blood- an alarming amount of it-in the air as he gets closer to the river. He fears the worst as he goes to look at the trap- hoping you will forgive him- that you are alive. Safe.

 He peers through the bushes and his eyes grow wide as the scene before him unfolds. 

  You are stuck up in the tree- his trap is still around your ankle. You are holding onto the branch like your life depends on it. It probably does since there are five Gnolls circling the tree like vultures.

  He can hear your soft broken sobs as arrows fly over you or hit the tree. He notices the arrow in your leg and watches as a second one lodges itself into your calf. You wince and close your eyes tightly- unknown to you that Astarion’s vision is clouded in red and his whole body fills with destructive, hot rage. He also feels fear, but he pushes it away, not ready to explore the why. 

  He lunges forward, slashing at the Gnolls with so much force that they are practically in half by the time they hit the forest floor. He is a man possessed as he carves his way through all five gnolls and then he climbs up the tree to you. 

His chest aches as he looks at you. He will never be able to forgive himself for causing you so much suffering.

  “Darling,” he says softly.

    You whimper in response and when you look at him- he feels all the air leave his lunges. If he needed air, he would have passed out right then. Your eyes were glassy with traces of fear, sadness, and loneliness- all emotions he is all too familiar with. Then you see it’s him and the biggest smile crosses your lips and you look at him with so much affection he almost feels ill. This was not the plan and he almost made you a midnight snack for a group of Gnolls.

  “You found me,” you say in a raspy, raw voice, “I thought I was going to be stuck here all night until Karlach or Gale found me. Or I was going to die.”

 You chuckle, but Astarion can’t get himself to share your same enthusiasm about his rescue mission as he cuts the rope. 

  He helps you down the tree and safely back on the ground. Astarion winces as you pull the arrows out of your leg. You find a healing potion amongst your things and chug it.

He collects your stuff for you. You give him another one of those brilliant smiles and Astarion tries to smile just as brightly back. You furrow your brows, but he turns away before you can keep analyzing him. 

  “We should head back,” Astarion mumbles.

______________________________________________

  The silence hangs in the air as Astarion walks with you back to camp. After about 15 minutes, you are back at camp and the tension in the air is suffocating.

 “Astarion.”

  Astarion freezes, turns on his heels, and looks everywhere but your eyes. He couldn’t bare to see you smile at him again- look at him like that again- not after he almost killed you.

  You maneuver yourself so you are looking in his eyes.

 “It’s not your fault,” he begins to protest when you shush him, “we didn’t set any rules and the trap itself was harmless. We didn't account for Gnolls when we started this whole thing.”

  “I almost got you killed.”

 “But you didn’t. It easily could have been you in that situation and me saving you.”

  “Will you please stop being so Gods damn forgiving,” he huffs with exasperation as he feels tears prick his eyes, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I put your life in danger. I almost-”

 Lost you. He chokes on the words. The fear from earlier begins to come back to the front of his mind. Watching you cling to that tree, crying, and in pain had made him realize that you just might be more important to him than he cares to admit. However, that’s a conversation for another time- once he sorts out what that feeling in his chest is whenever he looks at you.

  You look at him sharply, your eyes raw with sadness, “Stop that right now. I am okay. I lived. It was a mistake and I know your intentions were not bad. You don’t have anything to worry about Star.” 

He doesn’t say anything and you hang your head.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I- I should go-“ Astarion pauses as you interrupt him.

“Please don’t leave,” you whisper, “I rather enjoy your company.”

  You look at him with tears welling in your eyes. He stares at you in stunned silence, searching your face for any sign of deception, but he doesn't find it. His body moves before his brain can process what he is doing. 

 Astarion gently cradles your face in his hands and kisses you slowly, softly. He smiles despite himself when a gasp leaves your lips. You're alive and safe. When the warmth in his chest begins to spread throughout the rest of his body, he pulls away and steps back. Your face is flushed, a beautiful blush spreading across your cheeks. You look at him with wide, unblinking eyes before you shyly smile. Astarion could have melted in that moment. He finds himself smiling too.

 “Well I’m assuming that means you are going to stay?” 

  “I suppose I’ll stay,” he says while tapping his chin, “you do need someone to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble like that again.”

 You feign hurt and scoff, “Are you suggesting that this was my fault?”

 “Maybe if you were better with traps that wouldn’t have happened,” Astarion teases.

  You narrow your eyes at Astarion and you try to hold back a smile. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him.

You start towards camp before you pause and turn around. Astarion gives you a confused look.

You run over to him and place a kiss on his cheek. He tenses for a moment before relaxing again. You look at him sweetly, a soft smile on your lips.

 “Good night Astarion.”

  As you saunter towards your respective tents, Astarion takes one last glance at your tent- at you- before he lays down with his book. Except he still can’t get past the first page- he is too anxious for the sun to come up so that he can see your smile again.

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 spoilers #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 companions

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hcs for a Tav who grew up being starved/neglected. Maybe their parents were poor or they were an orphan on the street. They don’t hoarde too much food but they don’t eat in front of others. And rarely take enough. And they refuse to shower near the others or camp super close to them. They’re almost always on alert and are really bad at self care. They’re always dirty, hair a mess. They kind of smell. And they are also ashamed of the fact no one taught them how to take care of themselves???

For Astarion, Gale, Halsin, and Wyll? ^_^

Thank you!

A/N: Oh Nonnie, I feel this! I was a child of divorce and at one house we were very disciplined and had routines for self-care and homework and everything. But the other house was chaotic and full of resentment and neglect. It’s so odd how something 20+ years ago can still affect you today, but it absolutely can. 💚

For some resources on having to figure things out as an adult, may I recommend the “How Do I Dad?” YouTube Channel and the r/InternetParents subreddit? Those are the two I like the best atm. Also remember, Google is your friend. Whenever I want a real person to answer, I usually type in my question with a plus sign then Reddit (+reddit) which will pull up real user’s threads from Reddit about the subjects you’re Googling. It’s one of the last platforms I think is usable in that way. So that's why I do that. Then again, I’m old and might just miss the old ppl’s Internet. 

Anyway, on to the ask!

…

TW: Mentions of Past Neglect, Disordered Eating, Food Insecurity

...

🧼️ HCs for Neglected!(GN)Tav With Astarion, Halsin, & Wyll 🛁

Astarion: 

Okay, he’s kinda a dick about it at first. He doesn’t mean to be. Well, I mean, yes he meant to make those petty comments, but he wouldn’t have made them if he knew about Tav’s past circumstances. Once Tav lets it slip they’re bad at self-care because no one ever taught them, Astarion immediately feels a sense of kinship. 

He was a magistrate before Cazador captured and turned him, and he considered himself to be a man of some luxury, but after being taken that all changed. He lived in filth, he was fed filth, by the hells, Cazador saw him as filth. He knows what it feels like to be seen as worthless and to have to survive in meager conditions. He wants Tav to understand none of it is their fault. They had no control over their circumstances. He tells Tav to never apologize for the way they had to live in order to survive. 

The first thing he offers to help Tav with is bathing and dressing. When Cazador let him out to lure victims, Astarion perfected disguising his undead scent over the decades. Part of it was using oils and perfumes, and another part was choosing the right attire. He’ll find the right kind of soap and cleansing oils for Tav's skin and hair type, insisting they get only the best the markets of Baldur’s Gate have to offer. If Tav can’t afford it, who cares? He’ll just sneak around the merchant and steal it while Tav distracts them. Or Lazel, if Tav refuses to do something so morally questionable.

He doesn’t really pick up on Tav’s refusal to eat with the others, mainly because Astarion also doesn’t eat with the others. But if Tav requests, Astarion will gladly sit and gossip with Tav as they eat their meal, away from everyone else. 

Astarion might suggest the party visit an inn or a bar one night, and encourage Tav, in his way, to let their guard down and eat around the others. He wants Tav to practice consuming food in the presence of their other friends. Astarion believes it’ll do two things: 1) It’ll prove to Tav, that it’s safe to eat in their company and 2) It’ll reinforce what Astarion’s been saying to them, that there’s nothing wrong with the way they eat. Even if they scarf their food down or eat with their hands or burp extra loud- who cares? Karlach practically inhales three portions in a single bite. Gale won’t shut up while he eats, so he’s always talking with his mouth full. And Shadowheart takes the tiniest bites imaginable, meaning she takes fricken forever to finish a single plate. Everyone has their own style, and Tav’s is nothing to be ashamed of. 

If Tav and Astarion are especially close or if they’re dating, Astarion will even offer to help Tav wash up. Not because he wants to see them naked, or to have sex, but because he really wants to shower them in affection. He’ll gently massage their shoulders as he works the cleansing oils into them. He’ll help them balance, bending backward as he washes their hair, gently using the very tips of his sharp nails to scratch their scalps. It feels heavenly, and it’s a great intimate, non-sexual way for the two of them to grow closer. 

It may be true no one was there to take care of either Astarion or Tav in the years past. But now that they’re together, the two of them can take care of each other. 

Halsin: 

Halsin prefers to live amongst nature as opposed to city dwellings, so he’s more accustomed to roughing it than the others may be. That being said, he’s not unclean, or unkempt- he keeps himself very well groomed (as one must do when they tend to ask to bed anyone and everyone they come into contact with for more than five seconds). He assumes Tav is just more accustomed to frequent bathing at first. Not everyone is as fortunate as he is. But he begins to suspect something the more the days go on, and Tav’s appearance and demeanor don’t change. 

He’ll try casually inviting Tav to come bathe with him. He knows the perfect spot just beyond the Grove, that’s secluded but not too small, that would well accommodate both of their bodies. He suggests this regardless of whether he and Tav are dating or not. If Tav is hesitant, he apologizes for being forward and kindly explains he just wanted to present Tav with the opportunity to take some time for themselves. When Tav breaks down in front of him, explaining why they’re so upset about the idea of grooming and self-care, Halsin is immediately sympathetic.  He listens intently as Tav gets their fears off their chest. 

Once Halsin understands Tav’s situation, he’ll take them into his tent, and show Tav his collection of soaps and brushes and oils. Halsin explains how he prefers to use each one, before gifting them to Tav to keep for themselves. When Tav protests that it’s too much, Halsin puts a hand up to stop them. He can always buy new items. Besides, he’s learned how to make the most of what only Mother Nature has to offer. He can manage without fancy cleansers and bristles for a time. Tav deserves them more. 

Halsin might even offer Tav some clothes if he has any that wouldn’t be too difficult to tuck or take in, as he’s a very tall man. With Tav’s permission, he might even ask Shadowheart Lazel or even Astarion if they have something they could spare for the time being, if Tav is too embarrassed or shy to ask for themselves. 

He offers to keep watch and guard Tav as they bathe, promising not to look unless Tav asks them to. If the two are dating, Halsin will assist them, helping Tav scrub down, and removing all the dirt, grime, and dead skin before washing them in the water. If the two are only friends, Halsin keeps his promise of not looking at Tav until they are dressed again. He’ll help detangle and braid Tav’s hair, taking care not to pull too hard on any knots. The whole ordeal leaves Tav feeling rather pampered. 

As far as eating goes, Halsin will always offer to share any meal he catches while the party is camping together, which is how Halsin notices Tav’s different eating habits. Halsin swears that as long as he is well and able to hunt and gather food, Tav will never go hungry in his presence. Halsin assures Tav that it’s okay to eat full, rather than stockpile most of their meals for later. It’s much more important to eat for energy now, rather than wait to eat later. It keeps one’s energy levels stable and helps to reduce any unintentional food waste as things tend to spoil sooner rather than later. 

Halsin takes it upon himself to become a provider of sorts for Tav, the one Tav never had. He plans to lavish Tav with so much attention and care, that those wounds caused by years of abandonment and neglect have no choice but to close. 

Wyll: 

Wyll is a bit awkward about it in the beginning. Not because he intends to be rude, but because he’s unsure of how to approach the subject with Tav without sounding like a snide ass. If it were any other companion, he might have made an offhand comment days ago, but when it comes to their leader, Wyll holds much more admiration and respect. So, Wyll holds his tongue until things become a bit more apparent, and he believes he knows the most sensitive way to navigate them. 

When everyone sits down to eat, Wyll asks Tav if they’d like to join them. He does this every evening, hoping Tav will eventually say yes. If Tav still doesn’t bite, he’ll come to them, and ask if he could sit next to Tav as they eat. Wyll makes a casual conversation between bites, trying to bring Tav out of their shell. If there's still no change, Wyll opens up about being on his own, having been kicked out of his home as a young man. He reveals how for the first few years he was often hungry, tired, and cold- being forced to move around from place to place outside of Baldur’s Gate without the proper supplies to fend for himself or keep himself dry. This prompts Tav to open up a bit about their past- how they also had to survive on their own, and now, as an adult, they don’t know how to do anything other than ‘survive’. 

Wyll is, of course, empathetic. Tav may not have come from a noble background like Wyll did, but that’s no excuse for all Tav had to endure, especially as a child. Wyll tells them he’s sorry Tav had to live through all that, and makes it very clear that it was in no way, Tav’s fault. They were just a kid, they should have been protected. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about. They didn’t fail, other people failed them. 

Wyll had to learn how to do many things on his own, and he thinks it would be best for him to share all he’s learned. One night he sits with Tav at dinner, encouraging Tav to eat, as Wyll tells them how he learned where to stay, how to get work, when to leave, and where to train. 

Together, Wyll and Tav come up with a list of items Tav most likely needs for self-care. All the while Wyll does his best to ensure Tav doesn’t feel judged for lacking such things. Again, Wyll reminds them, it’s not their fault. And there’s never any time to start like the present. If they’re close enough to a market, Wyll will take them there, and help Tav purchase everything they need. However, if they’re somewhere without vendors, say the Underdark or the Shadowlands, Wyll will approach a party member for assistance. 

Out of all of the companions, Wyll asks Astarion if he has any extra cleansing soaps or oils because Wyll knows Astarion’s the most high-maintenance party member amongst them lol. Once Wyll secures those items, he gifts them to Tav, and lets them know he’d be happy to stand guard while they bathe. Wyll plants himself midway between the camp and the river, giving Tav ample space. Wyll would feel being too close to them, in this manner, at this point, even if he and Tav were in a relationship, would be inappropriate. 

Once Tav is bathed and dressed, Wyll escorts them back to the fire. As Tav’s hair dries, Wyll regales them with much more upbeat stories, tales of his times as the Blade of Frontiers. His battles and triumphs, his rescues and saves- all of that. He wants Tav to know he has their back. Wyll is capable of protecting Tav, and he intends to do it in a way where Tav never has to feel abandoned or forgotten again.

...

💚💚 Don't Forget to Like & Please Reblog!!! 💚💚

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

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

Hello! I hope you've had a nice day:)

🤭I really love your works! Could you write an Astarion fic where the (GN) reader is equally as flirty as he is? For example, reader and Astarion being the only ones awake in the night and all in all- just flirty talk.

(Not implying anything but.. Hypothetically. Hypothetically speaking, you could sprinkle in some spicy stuff too)

I'm sorry if that's not your thing! Feel free to ignore this 🧡

Leave You Speechless

pairing : astarion x (gn) reader

summary : while you keep watch over camp, a boring job, astarion keeps you company by the fire

warnings : tiniest bit sexual towards the end but nothing NSFW, PG 13 at best.

a/n : i kinda love this, loved the idea, hope i did it justice.

Sparks flew from the wood of the fire, landing in front of your leather adorned feet. You hadn’t bothered to take off your equipment when you returned to camp, and the party seemed to take this as a sign that you wanted to be on watch for the night. You didn’t, of course, but who are you to deny your duty. Everyone else did it, your turn was inevitable. You just wished it wasn’t so boring. 

You picked at the fabric of your bedroll, fire crackling in the silence of the night. Maybe Halsin was awake? Or Astarion? Perhaps Gale was awake and he could keep your company with his magic.

“Well..don’t you look happy..” Your eyes flicker up to meet a pale face, red eyes creased in amusement, a small smirk playing at his lips. Of course he would be awake, only to annoy you. He takes no time to sit beside you, attentive to your features, his gaze never leaving your eyes.

 “Careful darling, if you keep your eyebrows creased so angrily, you’ll get wrinkles.” His comment only makes you scrunch your face up more, a slender finger poking at the wrinkle between your eyebrows. 

Without much thought you take your own finger and poke it in between his eyebrows, “You should take your own advice Astarion, clearly you’ve been angry a lot over your lifetime, aged quite poorly.” He scoffs, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything, speechless at your insult. 

“Please..I have no wrinkles, I cannot age , don’t be stupid.” He pulls his finger away from you, now feeling at his own face, clearly you’ve struck an insecurity. 

You feel your eyes roll at his antics, “ Cut it out with the dramatics, Astarion. I only tease. You should know how beautiful you are, I would expect as much from your vanity.” You throw a small piece of wood on the fire, looking away from him.

“Of course I know.. I just love the way it sounds coming from your lips,” You shoot him a look. You weren’t unfamiliar with his flirting, in fact it wasn’t the first night that he had managed to wriggle his way by your side. Though this night would surely be the same, he would flirt with you till the son came up and you would pretend not to enjoy his company. God forbid he ever found out how much you truly enjoyed being around him, let alone that your feelings for him were more than platonic. 

“Then perhaps I should compliment you more often then?” Astarion seems to be pulled towards you, shuffling closer to your side, intrigued by your willingness to comply with his flirtatiousness. “Oh..but then..I would never wanna inflate that unfortunate ego of yours..my love.” A soft poke on his nose, and his eyes widen, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. 

He huffs, “You tease too much. You’ll admit you’re in love with me soon enough.” 

“In love with you,” a scoff falls from your lips, and you're sure your annoyance sounds more superficial than you would’ve wished, “now you’ve started fabricating my feelings in your head? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were the one in love with me, not the other way around.”

“A shame your intelligence is rather lacking, or else you’d know better. You see through me transparently, darling.” He’s so close to you, a tease with intent to deceive and lower your guard, and you almost fall for it. 

You push him away with your elbow, only hard enough to get his face away from you, but his body stays close. “What is it that you're trying to gain here, Astarion?” The tone you carry your words with seems to jab into his skin, the way he recoils away from you makes you almost regret it.

“Ughh..a moment ago you were referring to me as ‘my love’ and now you speak my name in such a sullen tone,” his slender fingers move to grasp at your own, you don’t pull away though you wish you would, “why must you deny me?” 

He brings your hand up to his lip delicately, not wanting to startle you, as if you were a scared animal and you might run away at any moment. Though, you realized, that depiction might not be entirely untrue. You allowed it, breath hitching as his soft lips made contact with your knuckle, curving upwards in the gentlest of smiles. 

“There..much better,” another gentle kiss, to each and everyone of your knuckle, “I like you much better when you're not arguing with your infatuation.” 

“I like you much better when your mouth is occupied.”

“Perhaps we can find a way to occupy it then?” He’s staring up at you, pleading through his lashes, with your hand still limply held in his hand. He won’t let go, not even if you denied him now, he wouldn’t let go. His fingers are entangling themselves in yours, squeezing down. 

“You’re absurd.” 

“And you’re breathtaking...” It silences your voice completely, and his grip on your hand seems to tighten. 

The world around you seems to take a pause along with you, the wind ceases to blow, holding its breath alongside you. There is no wildlife trilling or chirping anymore, silencing themselves to offer Astarion and you a full stage to yourselves. Even the snores, soft and aggressive from either side of the camp, go silent. They’re being blocked out, your head filled with Astarions image, your ears filled with the sound of his breathing. And your eyes, occupied by the way his tongue pokes out to swipe against his bottom lip, the way his own eyes dart along your face to analyze your features, the way his hand twitches in your own when your lips puff out. 

In a moment of distracted, thoughtless boldness, too bold for your own good, fiendish desperation controlling your actions in full, your free hand moves to grasp onto the side of face to pull him in closer. He moves, under your control fully, pupils blown out in arousal. But then you hesitate, and his face becomes still in front of yours, lips hovering against each other. You let out a huff at your actions, disappointed in the way you must constantly fight against your desires, the air caught in your throat is released in a heavy sigh against his lips. 

“It’s not like you to be so undecided..” His breath is feverish and heavy, tickling against your skin, his lips brushing against your own with every syllable. He is pleading with his eyes, fingers twitching against your own once more, too excited to control his own movements. 

“Not like you to be so,” Before you can utter a rebuttal your words are cut short, Astarions lips finally connect to your own. Clearly he has grown impatient, and it shows in the way his fangs nip at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow it, his tongue passes your lips to wrestle with yours, and a whimper vibrates through him leaving your head spinning. If it wasn’t for his grip on you, you would’ve fallen over. 

He places one hand behind your body, using his own to push you down against your bedroll, without releasing your lips once. With hesitation he separates from you, breath heavy once more. Distracted, he doesn’t look at you, his fingers tracing along your waist until he meets the waistline of your leather pants.

“For once, darling, I would love to leave you speechless and not the other way around..allow me, won't you?” .” He smirks, looking up at you now with a mischievous glint in his eyes, fingers playing with the zipper of your pants. 

“Gods you’re annoying..” You shoot him a glare, though you doubt it’s very menacing judging by the way your breath hitches and your cheeks are absolutely flushed, he tugs at the waistband pulling your leather pants down to your mid thigh. 

But then you regain your edge, “Say please, and then maybe, I’ll allow it.” You place your hand back on his cheek, holding his face up, and the way he leans his cheek deeper into your hand almost makes you crumble again. 

“Please, darling, pretty please..let me touch you.”

“That’s very good, my love.” You try to hide the way your breath leaves your lips in a shaky wave as you nod for him to proceed. He wastes no time as your pants are suddenly pulled down and off, Astarion climbing back up your legs. 

His lips tug into a smile, lowering his head between your thighs, and you let out a whine as his teeth connect with the skin of your inner thigh. When he looks up to you, through the strands of his curls that have fallen in front of his face, a thin line of blood coats his lip. The way his tongue licks it away, sends a shiver through you.

And the look he gives you, worship heavy in his eyes, makes you aware of just how long this night is going to be for you. 

#astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #x reader #oneshot #bdg3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #gn reader #baldurs gate

[pastrydragon]

The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #ulder ravengard #morena dekarios #gale x wyll #I don't know their ship name #I only ship it for the family drama #Astarion can also fill this role as Wyll's SO but this is funnier to me #bladeweave #thank you dromaeocore for telling me!

[istoleyoursk1n]

WAIT WAIT HERES ONE! All companions drunk off their asses in a karaoke session while Tav is the only sober one😭

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

Tav being sober while all the other companions are drunk off their asses in a karaoke session

(I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS HELP HAHAHA)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

Says he's only there for the drinks and to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves.

Ends up being part of the people who are being absolute fools of themselves.

He’s the type to say “oh I can’t siNg” only to grab the mic out of your hands and start balling out the lyrics of Bad Romance like it's nobody’s business.

He’s tame at first, enjoying himself as he watches the shitshow unfold but four drinks in and he’s already hoarding the microphone.

I like to think he somehow becomes better at singing the drunker he gets.

Accidentally hits high notes and he makes it everyone's problem.

Probably slapped someone by accident when they were trying to get the microphone back from his drunken ass.

He becomes far more expressive and loud the more he drinks which only makes it all the more fun to be honest.

Tried to have a sing-off with Wyll. Somehow ends up with Astarion threatening to bite him.

: ̗̀➛ GALE

Very confused.

He came here for bonding time with friends only to be surrounded by feral drunks.

He’s definitely not the one singing but Astarion kept giving him wine and he kept drinking and now he’s halfway into either drunk crying or drunk ranting.

He’s the type to start talking about his ex again once drunk.

Had a very informative conversation with the wall.

Fell asleep for about five seconds only to be woken up by the sound of loud screaming into the microphone wonderful singing.

He likes suggesting songs for the group to sing but he's not even including himself in said singing. The least he does is clap his hands.

Remember when I said he’d either drunk cry or drunk rant? Guess what, he’s doing both now and either Halsin or you are trying their damn best to support him.

Try to ask him what he's crying about and he wouldn't even know what the fuck he’s crying about. Proceeds to give you a long instructive speech about the importance of how one pronounces certain spells. (He accidentally activated said spell too).

: ̗̀➛ WYLL

He drank exactly one bottle of alcohol and called it quits. He’s practically as sober as you right now.

The most tame of the group by far but he hardly has any complaints about the chaos, he's having so much fun!

If Astarion isn't hoarding the microphone, he’s the one singing and he’s really good at it. This man can sing and he figured now would be the best time to finally show it.

He’s being as humble as he can but you can tell he’s putting in more effort than he should for a drunken karaoke party.

This man is literally singing each song as if he’s performing his own concert. Ten songs in and somehow his voice box still hasn't given out.

Started having a sing-off with Astarion and he could hardly take it seriously. He wasn’t even drunk but he kept laughing and when he laughs Astarion laughs and they both ended up becoming a mess.

He and Astarion were probably the ones bickering over who’d get to hold the microphone.

However, he always ends up giving the microphone to both because of his gentlemanly ways and this man can't say no to Astarion even if his life fucking depended on it.

HE SANG AN ENTIRE MUSICAL SOUNDTRACK.

: ̗̀➛ KARLACH

SCREAMING INTO THE MICROPHONE.

Don’t ever give her the damn microphone or pick any goddamn song less you want your ears to bleed.

She loves metal/rock songs way too much and she will death metal scream every single word as if she was being dragged back down to the pits of hell.

She’s drunk off her ass as well and it gets worse because she keeps finishing people’s left over drinks.

She’s so unbelievably hyper when she's drunk and in a festive mood that during the whole karaoke session, she broke the damn table.

She laughed so hard right after that for a moment she forgot to fucking breath.

She constantly has to stand up and move about or dance to the music because she just has so much energy in her right now. It's damn well impressive how she somehow never tires.

The thing is, her laugh is contagious so when she starts laughing someone else probably starts laughing as well and it all becomes an even bigger disaster.

Broke the doorknob on her way to head out and grab more drinks.

: ̗̀➛ LAE’ZEL

Didn't want to be there.

Everyone was so loud and obnoxious that it was honestly a tad bit annoying for her. She could have been doing something far more productive and instead-

Never mind that, now she's having a drinking contest with Shadowheart in the midst of all the screaming and singing.

Where did the shot glasses go?! Oh, its with her.

Suddenly, taking multiple shots of alcohol will help improve her tolerance to an array of different substances that may pose a threat to her bodily autonomy. That’s an excuse, she just doesn't want to seem unproductive.

Not the one singing at all but she keeps finishing the bottles before anyone else can even get a taste of them.

Surprisingly, she has a really high alcohol tolerance. She’d probably be 10 shots in and still appear as sober as you.

Though, please take the liquor away from her as soon as possible. When she actually gets drunk two things happen. She either becomes more aggressive than she ever was before or even worse, she becomes nicer.

Amidst it all, you may see a snicker or two come out of her, one that she’d be trying so hard to hide. Truth be told, she would have grown to love her chaotic bunch of weirdo friends and she wouldn't have regretted a thing.

: ̗̀➛ SHADOWHEART

Actually one of the people singing! When Astarion and Wyll aren't battling it out over the microphone of course.

Depending on her current mood, she's either going all out on Mitski songs or rocking it out with Karlach.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Washing Machine Heart.

Before she could sing another song, she was ever so quickly pulled into a drinking match with Lae’zel in which the winner was undetermined; because Karlach broke the damn table with the shot glasses on it.

There is no damn way she went through the karaoke session without singing Bring Me To Life, part 2.

When she gets really drunk she either becomes louder or eerily quiet.

She’ll just quietly sit in the corner and watch and sometimes it's just the creepiest thing ever.

But in the cases where she does get loud, she’s off laughing her ass off over the chaos unfolding right before her eyes. She would have been talking shit along with Astarion if it weren't for the fact that he was quite literally having a wrestling match with Wyll over the microphone.

Probably fell asleep after a while and somehow never woke up until the next day.

: ̗̀➛ HALSIN

Very confused 2.0.

He tries to refrain from drinking as much as possible because he knows just how embarrassing he becomes so he kind of just smiles and sits there during the first half.

Besides he really doesn't want to burden you with having to be the only sober person in the party.

The least he’d be doing is very subtly dancing to the beat. Do you know how dads would do those little awkward dances during parties? Exactly that.

Either you, Shadowheart, or Astarion coaxed him into finally drinking and things began to go downhill from there.

The thing is, when he drinks, he can drink a lot, it's just that he prefers not to. However, the real reason he can drink a lot is that he forgets to set a limit for himself especially when his mind is so scattered.

Became oddly clingy towards you in ways that you’d never expect. Suddenly he’s blurting out random things he feels about you and the others in the most wholesome way imaginable.

If it isn't you, he’s confessing his “”undying love”” to the first person he sees.

Stared at a plant for five minutes.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 headcanon #bg3 headcanons #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #bg3 karlach #bg3 lae’zel #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 halsin #astarion #wyll #gale #karlach #lae’zel #shadowheart #halsin #bg3 x reader

[someloserjay]

“Star, I’m sorry..”

Spawn! Astarion x GN! Tav

Tw. Blood, nudity, vampiric feeding

I got this idea from a prompt @the-phantom-otaku posted

“When Astarion's siblings realize they won't be able to take him, they take Tav back with them instead. They present them to Cazador, and though he's pissed it isn't Astarion, he decides to turn Tav and use them as his replacement.

The party busts in before he's carved the ritual scars in their back but unfortunately not before he's bitten Tav.”

I hope you enjoy💛💛 this is my first time writing my pale elf

—————————

It's been two days since Astarion’s siblings attacked camp, they had disappeared without a word. Tav had assumed that would be all from them until they made their attack at the Szarr Palace. They assured Astarion he didn’t want to believe it but he trusted his beloved. They’ve been right so far. Right?

“Astarion! Karlach! Shadowheart! ” The sounds of his lover screaming for their party to save them broke his deep meditation. He and the rest of the camp all bolt up just in time to see Leon disappearing with Tav using a quickly cast Misty Step. Nothing but a note and crickets remaining, Astarion stared at the small sheet of paper, terrified to even see the handwriting of his former master. Gale grabs the note and reads it aloud for the party.

“If I can't finish my ritual with Astarion, I’ll take the pet he's found for me. -Cazador Szarr” Gales voice wavers as he reads it. Astarion let’s out an angry, guttural scream.

“We’re going. Now.” Astarion says as he quickly makes his way to his tent to pull his armor over his head. The others quickly follow suit. The party gets stopped at the gate to enter the city, adding a very long 2 days to get around the bridge and into the city another way, and another day to reach the lower city.

Meanwhile in the palace Tav is covered in dark bruises and cuts from fighting, they fought being brought here, being stripped nude, being tied, and being forced to kneel. They were tied with their hands behind their back as they kneel at the feet of Cazador, the very monster that hurt their sweet Star for centuries.

“Here’s what’s going to happen and I’ll be honest with you. I’m going to turn you and let you starve. You’ll starve until you lose control, you’ll lose all humanity, and then I’ll let you have a single mouse. That’s just punishment for protecting that filth Astarion, then I’ll very slowly crave my ritual into your pretty back.” He says running a sharp nail down Tav’s back.

“Like hell’s yo- '' Cazador cuts Tav off with sharp fangs digging into their neck similar to how Astarion often does. But rougher, painful, messy he isn’t doing this out of hunger. He plays with Tav like they’re a mouse caught by a cat. Tav fights to stay conscious through the pain and blood loss. They try to fight, eventually there’s not enough blood left in their body and they fall limp.

Astarion, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Halsin quickly make their way through the lower city of Baldur’s Gate. Once they approach the palace Shadowheart casts Disguise on the party, matching the look of the other spawn of Szarr to easily pass by the guards. The spell dissipates once they enter the palace and begin searching. Astarion is trying to sense the heartbeat of his love, unable to find it; he begins to fear the worst. They make their way downstairs into a room he knew all too well. A torture chamber and in the back of the dark damp room there His Tav was. Shackled to the wall, nude and covered in dried blood from their neck down their collar bone and chest. Cazador was always messy with how he fed, unlike Astarion who refused to waste a single drop. Astarion ran to his love wasting no time in looking them over for injuries. Seeing the deep bite, the dark bruises, the cuts covering his love his eyes start to well with tears. Astarion is quick to pick the lock holding his loved one's hands. He pulls Tav close to his chest, reaching for a blanket out of his pack, using it to cover Tav.

“Star?” Tav weakly says looking up

“I’m here, we’re her-“ his voice drops as he sees two all too familiar fangs in Tav's mouth that weren’t there days before. He looks over Tav’s face recognizing the face of hunger, pure painful hunger.

“Please Star. Please tie me up. I don’t want to hurt them.” Tav says tears falling from their eyes. As much as it pains him he knows it is what’s best. He reaches deep into his pack, pulling the length of rope he had picked up along their travels. It hurts him tying ropes over red marks he knows caused Tav so much pain. He picks up his love as they lay limp in his arms. He aches for his love as they quietly make their way out of the Palace.

Getting to camp Astarion sets Tav down on a cot in his tent.

“Star, I'm so hungry..” Tav begs, looking at Halsin.

“Halsin can you, I don’t know, go catch them a boar, a stupid goblin, a deer, anything?” Astarion snaps at the built elf.

“Are you sure a consenting creature wouldn’t be better?” Halsin asks

“I’d be willing to feed them, they’ve done so much to help us.” Shadowheart chimes in.

“No! You don’t understand! Whatever creature Tav’s fangs hit, will not live. As much as they believe they have enough control to stop, I promise they don’t! So please get them something to eat!” Astarion yells. Halsin casts wild shape. A bear now runs off into the night.

“ALIVE HASLIN, BRING IT ALIVE!” Astarion yells behind the bear. Shadowheart brings over a warm washcloth. As she steps closer Tav reaches up trying to bite at her arm, their eyes have turned a bright crimson red. Shadowheart jerks her hand away as Astarion grabs the cloth. His hand goes towards Tav’s shoulders to start wiping the blood and they attempt to bite Astarion, getting part of his forearm in their mouth.

“Tsk, if you drink you’ll get sick.” He says as his other hand wipes some blood off his lover's shoulder. Tav takes a single mouthful of blood before pulling away, spitting it back out onto the ground, gagging as they try to keep from throwing up.

“You taste foul.” Tav hisses at him as he wipes them clean.

Halsin returns in Elvin form, an injured deer fighting against his shoulders. Astarion urges everyone far away from the tent as Gale casts hold beast on the creature before making his way away from Astarions tent. Astarion slowly starts untying his love.

“Try to drink slow my love, its better for you.” The moment the rope is off their wrist Tav bolts towards the deer, sinking their fangs deep into the creature. Blood again covers them, this time from their mouth. Their own doing. By the time Tav is finished with the creature it’s cold and ridged. Tav looks at Astarion

“I'm sorry. Cazador was right, I lost myself to hunger.” Tav collapses in front of their beloved.

“Please forgive me for biting you.” They yawn, their body exushased. Astarion barely has time to catch them as their body succumbs to rest.

“You're always forgiven My Tav, for eternity. I understand better than anyone.” He says gently rubbing their hair. He reaches over and cleans off his love again with the cloth, gently getting them dressed in his own clothes. He makes sure they’re comfortable on his cot before grabbing a chair to sit with them until they wake.

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #gn reader #gn tav #angst #hurt/comfort

[frantic-fiction]

More Than

(Pic cheekylittlepup)

Astarion x Tav, Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: In the midst of battle a stray fireball hits you causing damage to your hair. Your hair is part of your identity, losing it seem unimaginable. But it's just hair right?

Notes/Tags: Tav has curly hair (I have curly hair, this is purely self-indulgent, hurt/comfort, Astarion being a good partner

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

The delicate flakes crumble between your fingers like tiny wisps. You gaze into the porcelain sink, transfixed. Another pass of the brush sends singed strands cascading into the bowl.

"It's just hair."

Dropping the brush onto the counter, it bounces and clatters to the tiled floor. You don't bother to pick it up because all you can see is the stranger in the mirror. Red swollen eyes and chapped lips, blood splattered across their face. But what caught your attention was the strangers' hair; what were once long beautiful curls—the types of curls people envy after—were now choppy and uneven. Your face was framed with uneven fried tendrils, and the right half of your head was singed so close to your scalp that you're just now registering the painful burn that grazed your face.

"It's just hair."

It could have been worse. You've dealt with broken bones and stab wounds. Experienced moments where you'd be dead if magic did not course through Faerun. So why does this feel different? It was a simple fight. It was child's play for the party, just a couple of cultists. But you didn't see the halfling. At least not until his firebolt burnt half your hair off.

"It's just hair."

Karlach and Wyll tried to assure you that something could be done, that a new hairstyle could be salvaged with what's left of your hair. You disagreed and promptly ignored the two for the rest of the journey back to the Tavern. After you asked, Gale gave you his spare cloak, and you threw it over your head. You took the back stairway, too afraid to face the others. To face him.

Taking a deep breath, you pick up the pair of shears, the cold metal feeling daunting in your hand. You grab a chunk of hair with shaky hands and snip it off. You grimace, squeezing your eyes shut. Biting your lips hard, you force yourself not to cry, not now. Because if you cry now, you'll never be able to finish what needs to be done. But the tasks get hard the more hair clogs the porcelain basin.

Inch by inch, your best qualities and attractiveness are cut away because no one says how much they like your eyes or your skin. No, it's your thick curls and long hair. Hair. Your identity, your safety blanket, is now ruined because you didn't pay attention. Why were you such an idiot?

Tears blur your vision, and you throw the scissors with a scream. The mirror cracks, and you slide down the wall. Hugging your knees to your chest, you allow yourself to cry. Why bother anyway? A haircut isn't going to help anything.

"Tav?" Astarions's voice is concerned. He presses up against the door, and the handle jiggles against the lock.

You stiffened and pushed farther away from the door until your back hit the tub. You uselessly wiped the tears away. "I want to be alone." Your voice betrayed you, and you know Astarion will not be leaving.

"Darling," he sighs softly, and the door clicks open because, of course, it does. "The wizard mentioned…" Astarion trails off when another sob rolls through you.

He quickly drops to his knees and scoops you into his arms. Astarion cradles you against his chest, and you sob, crying as he rubs your back and kisses your face. He tells you he loves you until your wails are reduced to sniffles, and you have nothing to give. The two of you sit quietly in each other's embrace until Astarion speaks.

"Do you mind if I do something?"

Furrowing your brows, you nod hesitantly and allow Astarion to pull you to your feet and lead you to a chair outside the bathroom. He sits down and retreats to the bathroom to grab your brush and the shears. You curl in on yourself under Astarion's gaze.

"I'm very sorry this happened, love," he said, pressing a sweet kiss to the apple of his cheek. "I won't be able to undo the damage, but if you'll let me, I can even it out and get rid of the damage."

You reach for Astarion's hand, and tears trickle down your cheeks. "Do what you need to do."

He works in silence, and you have nothing to say; the only sound that breaks the room's stillness is your sniffles and the sound of the shears. You try to ignore the sight of your curls falling to the ground, but the pile keeps growing. When Astarion finishes up with the back of your head, he moves to the front and begins to fix your bangs and tackle the right side of your head. His lips are in a concentrated pout as he intently layered your hair.

After what felt like an eternity, Astarion stands up, dusting your hair off your shoulders. You're on your feet and rushing to the floor-length mirror across the room. You freeze midstep just before the mirror; swallowing hard, you fist your shirt.

At first look, you're genuinely startled; it takes you a moment to recognize yourself—your face, skin, eyes, mouth, everything all the same. But your hair is so drastically different it's like you're a different person. Once down to your mid-back, the hair sat just above your shoulder, gentle curls falling in ringlets. Strikingly, half the hair was shaved, giving the whole look a sharp edge. It was much thinner than before, and you felt somehow lighter. It didn't look bad, but you weren't sure how you felt.

"What do you think?" Astarion whispers from behind you, reflection absent in the mirror.

You raise your hand and run it through the curls; they jump back up upon release. Turning around, you look up at him. "Do you think it looks good?" You redirect, not knowing how to answer his question.

Astarion smiles and pulls you in by the waist. Cupping your jaw, he gives you a sensual kiss that has you melting. He quickly pulls away, "I am quite a magnificent hairstylist. It's just another of my many talents."

You shove him, and Astarion laughs brightly. You try to move away, but Astarion tightens his grip. "My love, your hair is just a small part of you. You could have all your hair fall out this instant, and I would find you just as beautiful."

"Really?" He nods, and you tackle him with another kiss. Gods, you loved this man.

"Though I would certainly miss pulling your curls when I-"

"Astarion!"

"Did I forget to mention this look suits you very well. Make you look positively delectable." And then your lost in each other.

So... yeah this is kinda what I wish I had when I cut my hair. Not that I burnt my hair off but after i cut my hair, all I heard was how people miss my curls, and that I shouldn't have cut it. Got me thinking about if my hair was really that important. I don't know what i'm trying to say anymore........

Let me know what y'all think

Taglist: @heartfully10 @ayselluna @marina-and-the-memes @anixson @canonicalchaoticneutral @toadsbitch @meulinkitten-blog

Want to be added? Interact with this post.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #reader insert #bg3 #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion imagine #fanfic #writing #hurt/comfort

[hijackalx]

PARTY OF TWO +18

SUMMARY: You and Gale are looking for a reason to ditch your friends at the tavern— why not make that reason each other?

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, thigh-riding, praise kink, p in v, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, bondage (mage hand), multiple orgasms, love hotel, somewhat switch-y gale

The bustling tavern is filled with the sounds of drunken chatter and the occasional song. You sympathize with the bartender, who struggles to keep up with the demands of slurring customers. You think they wouldn't need so many refills if half of their drinks didn't end up on the floor.

You glance around from your seat at the bar, gaze hopping through patrons. Karlach is on her ninth pint, Wyll captivates a crowd with a far-fetched tale, and Astarion has found a pretty, young thing to entertain himself with. They all carry smiles on their faces and rosy cheeks, something you haven't had the pleasure of seeing in quite some time.

You're glad your friends seem to be enjoying themselves— you know how badly they've been needing to. Their plates have been full recently, so it's nice to be able to settle down for some fun.

As for yourself... well, let's just say you were outvoted when it came to agreeing on what "fun" was. This place is a little chaotic for your tastes, and not to mention tart from all the dwarf sweat and beer. You try not to cringe at how every surface is sticky and how every song that's sung is just slightly off-key.

Amidst your grumbling, a familiar figure takes the open spot beside you, and by the look on his face, you realize you're not the only one who's fighting the urge to be a spoilsport.

Gale— the ambitious wizard from Waterdeep. You two don't speak much, meaning you've yet to break the barrier of "acquaintance". You've never really sat down with him for more than small talk, not even at camp. You will admit though, from what you've picked up about him through eavesdropping has left you somewhat curious.

You think now might be a good time to finally get to know each other better. Besides, it doesn't appear that anyone else is willing to bond over your distaste for such lively establishments.

Your gaze flickers his way, confident and gregarious. Although, the ice-breaker on your tongue melts away once you notice that he's already looking in your direction. There's a slight raise to one of his brows and a tug at the corner of his mouth.

"... Gale—!" You needlessly announce his presence before your voice dies out.

You're not sure what it is, but for some reason, you seem to have forgotten how to speak. Your mouth hangs slack, and your throat is too tight for any words to escape. Maybe his staring caught you off guard— or maybe you'd forgotten just how attractive he is until now.

He sends you a small, perturbed smile, and you instantly feel the responsibility to cease the silence between you. "Sorry," you apologize for your offbeat behavior, then make a gesture to the glass in front of you. "Guess that's a sign to slow down, isn't it?"

It's unclear whether he's laughing at you or with you when he replies, "One too many?"

Your attention gravitates toward his fingers wrapping around his glass, then shifts to the liquid inside as it meets his lips. The sip is quick before he finds your eyes again.

You hope your ogling is averted fast enough to remain inconspicuous. "Not enough to make being here worthwhile," you respond flatly.

He hums in agreement, bouncing his brows up once. "I'm not too keen on taverns myself."

You both watch as Karlach engages in an arm wrestling match with a half-orc man across the room, the audience surrounding them getting rowdier by the minute.

He turns back to you with a smile and a shrug. "I'm more fitted for gatherings of a lesser degree." He pauses, appearing thoughtful before adding, "A bit of one-on-one, if you will."

His last sentence piques your interest, and you scan him inquisitively to figure out if it means what you think it does. There's an air of playfulness to him as you meet his gaze once more, an inviting glimmer in the shadow of his brow.

It doesn't take a genius to know that was an attempt at flirting with you, and if you have any sense, you'll see where this can take you; it's not everyday you get to romp with a man who's allegedly bedded a goddess.

You feign coyness by taking a sip from your glass. "It seems we're both outliers in that respect," you say to him over the chanting invading the building— from it, you conclude the consensus is that Karlach will win the match.

"Observant," he remarks, leaning in your direction. There's a look of confidence on his face that is wholly endearing, not to mention flattering. "I know of a much better place for it. I was thinking about heading there now, actually."

Your brow cocks upward as if the proposition on his mind is hidden from you. "Oh?" you hum, your fingernails tapping at your glass absentmindedly. "... Are you meeting someone?" You ensure that your voice is sweet, yet harboring a hint of longing behind it.

"I suppose it's fortunate I'm not, since I was hoping I wouldn't have to go alone."

You return the grin he gives you, knowing and affirming. A buzz of anticipation blooms in your chest when he places a palm on your knee, beckoning an explosion of heat to the skin beneath it.

Drifting closer, he speaks as if only for the two of you to hear, "you wouldn't mind accompanying an old wizard, would you?" His words are like honey by your ear, smooth and tempting. It sends the slightest shiver down your spine.

He pulls away just enough to meet your eyes, watching, waiting. You pretend to think on it, but he doesn't appear to fall for it for a second. "Hmm... that doesn't seem like it'd be too out of my way."

The hand on your knee flexes into a squeeze, a pleased twinkle in his eye. "Lovely."

You sneak out the door together, allowing him to place a guiding hand at the small of your back. The touch is that of a gentleman's, yet you feel the slightest tremor bubbling its way to the surface now and then.

The tension only rises between you with teasing exchanges. After some playful coaxing, he admits how he'd had his eye on you since the night began— how long he'd been waiting to get you alone.

"What were you waiting for?" You question, intrigued. It's not like anyone was stopping him.

"Approaching someone as sightly as yourself takes the courage of a lion.” He shoots you a flirtatious grin, his stare shameless and unwavering. “As you can imagine, that’s not an easy amount to muster.”

"Courage?" You repeat with a laugh. He's taken aback when you impede his path, a scheming tug to your lips. You study him a moment before raising your hand to his cheek, tilting your head slightly.

With a half-lidded gaze, you follow your fingers as they begin to trace over his bearded jaw. "Do I make you nervous, Gale?" You smile ever so sweetly. Your fingertips travel from his jaw to his lips, just barely touching the soft skin; you feel his warm, uneven exhales against them.

As you slowly bring your mouth to meet his, he seems almost frozen. Though, just as your lips graze, he places a hand at the back of your neck and closes the distance himself.

The kiss is hungry— impatient. His palms slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body meshes with yours, and the exchanging of your breaths is visible in the cool, night air. You seem to get lost in the embrace, forgetting that you're still on the street; as a result, the hand you have resting on his chest slithers down his torso, a finger slipping into his waistband.

He makes a humming noise and reluctantly pulls away, his grip securing around your wrist to steady it. "Let's not get too eager," he chuckles, though you can tell his arousal is getting the better of him. "We've almost reached our destination— wouldn't want to spoil the fun, now would we?"

You giggle a little bit at the implication of 'spoiling the fun', then allow him to link his arm with yours as you continue onward, your pulse still thrumming with adrenaline. "Will you tell me where we're going?" You nudge him, wondering just what his clever mind has in store for you.

"It's better as a surprise, if that's alright with you."

A surprise, you note, sporting a subtle expression of delight. If you're being honest, your first impression of Gale left much to be desired— you thought he was, for a lack of a better word, simple. But this night has proven you wrong so far, and you hope it'll continue to go that way.

And, much to your amusement, it does.

You stand outside of a two-story building, the cobblestone exterior lit with the flames of lanterns hanging from the balcony. Also placed in distance of the light is a sign that you recognize.

He didn't just take you to any old inn, but an inn specifically for lovers.

While walking to the room he purchased at the desk, he turns to look down at you on the stairs. "So? What do you think?" He says, a lilt to his tone that exposes how pleased he is with himself.

"Would it surprise you if I said I've never stayed here before?"

"You're joking!" His face contorts in an almost scandalized fashion, searching you for any signs of jest. "Well, I guess I'll have to be the one to help you get familiar then." He sends a reassuring wink in your direction, then continues to lead you down the second-floor hallway.

Upon reaching your room, he holds the door open for you, placing a palm on your lower back to direct you in. You're stunned as you enter; the decor is like nothing you've ever seen before— from the circular bed draped with curtains, the luxurious bath, and the decorated mirror anchored to the ceiling.

"This is..." your voice trails off, truly at a loss for words. After hearing the door shut and lock, a presence approaches you from behind. Promptly, you feel the gentle ghosting of lips on your neck.

You inhale sharply as his breath leaves goosebumps on your skin. Hands resting on your waist, he holds you in place as he leaves the softest, teasing kiss behind.

"I know this is ill-mannered of me..." he starts, his voice suddenly deep and gravelly by your ear. "But I cannot wait any longer. Please."

The subtle desperation in his tone makes you shiver. Your lips part as he begins to run his hands up your body, traveling their way along your torso. You let out a small whimper at how his large, calloused palms feel through the thin material of your dress, how warm and inviting they are— how you wish for them to touch your bare body instead.

"Is this still what you want?" The short hairs on his jaw brush your skin as he speaks, breaths hastening as if he's raring for the green light.

You're almost too distracted by how his fingers restlessly bunch up the fabric just below your chest to answer. "Y-yes." You place your hands over his, moving them up. They finally engulf your breasts, his thumbs running over the hardened nipples begging to be freed.

"Yes, what?"

You turn your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. "I want you to fuck me." A warmth surges through your cheeks as the sentence leaves your mouth, the vulgarity of it both humiliating and exciting.

He's been anticipating hearing those words all night— keyed up like a dog waiting to be thrown a bone. He places a palm on your jaw and angles you to kiss him; it's reminiscent of the one on the street, but this time he doesn't hold back. It's raw and unrestrained, his tongue meeting yours and his teeth tugging on your bottom lip.

He pulls away to direct your figure to the wall. The material is cold on your cheek as he pins you against it, caging you between his arms. Aching for his touch, you arch your back to press your ass into him. He shamelessly rubs his hard-on against you for friction, letting out a broken moan by your ear and causing your thighs to squeeze together.

His hand snakes beneath the hem of your dress, seeking the pulsing heat between your legs. You widen your stance to give him better access, jaw falling slack as he locates your needy clit through your panties. You grind into his fingertip, impatient with how he toys with you— he picks up a rhythm only to break it, then repeats.

You let out a sound of frustration, and his solution is to stick his thigh between the two of yours.

You quickly pick up on what he's suggesting. “Gale," you say testily, unamused with his games. You'd much rather he'd just fuck you already.

"I want to watch," his voice comes out pleadingly and defensive. He lets out a shuddering breath before he licks his lip and mutters, "please, just… humor me."

The neediness in his tone raises goosebumps on your skin. You throb in response, a new wave of heat gathering to your cunt. You've never considered such an act, but he's convinced you with just a simple sentence. Lowering your weight onto him, you feel how the slick clinging to your folds smears into your undergarment, leaking through to paint your inner thighs.

He groans as he watches you use his thigh to get off, his cock twitching at how you whimper when he flexes the muscle. One hand leaves the wall to settle on your hip, and he uses it to guide you in slow, circular motions, causing your eyes to flutter shut.

His hips buck once he sees the pleasure on your features, a shaky moan leaving his throat. "You look so beautiful like this," he says through ragged breaths of arousal, watching how your brows knead together and your lips separate. "Keep going."

You feel a knot form in your lower stomach as he begins to bounce his knee, sending vibrations to your clit. His tempo is steady and relentless, eliciting a familiar, overwhelming sensation that courses through your veins. "G-gale," you say in a panic, "I can't. I'm going to— I can't—!" You fight off your orgasm with everything you've got, trying not to succumb to the waves of pleasure he sends through you.

You squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you in place. "It's okay, you're okay," he assures you, though he sounds like he's lingering on the edge himself. As if his words are a cue, your eyes squeeze shut and you finish on his thigh. Flashes of white dance behind your eyelids as you moan his name, your body jerking as it tenses repeatedly.

"S-shit," he stutters, biting his lip at how you move against his cock. He seems to hold his breath until you're done, letting out a heavy sigh of relief after he's succeeded in not coming prematurely as well.

He grips your shoulder with one hand, his thumb moving in circles over your skin as you recollect yourself. You attempt to turn around after a moment, yet you find that the buzzing in your legs makes for difficult use.

"Need a lift?" He laughs a bit.

You nod at him, putting your arms around his neck. With his palms settling just below your ass, he lifts you in one swift motion, carrying you in the direction of the bed.

Just as he begins to lay you down, he kisses you again— slow and seductive this time, but somehow hungrier. Your back gently meets the mattress, the fluffy duvet moulding around your shape and encasing you like a cloud. Your mouths begrudgingly disconnect, and as you open your eyes, you're taken aback by the reflection of yourself behind his head.

He notices your surprise, though the way he's looking you up and down says he has more important things on his mind. His gaze is heavy and almost daydreamy as he speaks, "I wanted you to be able to see yourself." He sits up to remove his shirt, tossing it aside before reaching for the zipper of your dress. "I wanted you to see how gorgeous you look while I fuck you."

You arch your back to assist him in removing the garment, watching as he pulls it to the ends of your feet. All your body is exposed except for your cunt, which he seems to be saving for last.

You finally feel his touch on your skin, placing your hands over his as they make a map of your figure. You guide him to your tits, rolling your head back into the pillow as he begins to knead them. His eagerness elicits a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain, the pressure just enough to satiate you.

Your fingers card through his hair as he places sloppy, wet kisses on your neck. The strands fall haphazardly over his features as you knock them from their place. When he sits up, you note how much this look suits him— messy hair, pink lips, and a heaving chest.

Disrupting your ogling, your eyes glance down at the bulge in his pants. You let out an impatient whine, reaching for it. As your fingertips graze the material of his clothes, your wrists are promptly snatched and restrained to the bed.

It all happens so fast, you don't quite realize how he's got you pinned despite both of his hands resting on his thighs in front of you. With furrowed brows, your gaze flits up above your head; a blue, transparent hand holds your wrists down, limbless and airborne. You almost feel silly for not assuming a wizard would use magic— even at a time like this.

"Clever," you cock an eyebrow, sending him a playful grin.

If his face wasn't already flushed, it definitely is now. He seems to get a bit flustered by the praise, smiling back somewhat awkwardly. "I occasionally like to think so."

With that, he begins kissing down towards your navel, his palms running along the sides of your body as he does so. He uses a light, teasing touch, making your skin react with sensitivity. You writhe in the Mage Hand's grasp, at which he peeks upward with a prideful pull to the corner of his mouth.

Once he reaches just above your underwear, he lifts his head, resulting in your body yearning for the return of his warm breaths. His fingers slip beneath the elastic covering each hip, delicately and smoothly removing the article from your figure. His gaze is fixated on your cunt— how it glistens under the lantern light from the bedside table.

He groans involuntarily at the sight, dipping one of his fingers into your contracting hole. It slides in effortlessly, though your walls squeeze around him in excitement. "Oh, Gods..." he mutters to himself, adding a second finger. It fits snugly, and he separates them inside of you to test how tight you are.

You whine, need prevalent in your tone. "Gale—" you choke back a moan as he begins pumping in and out of you. His pace is slow and agonizing, brushing against your G-spot but lacking the right vigor. He seems to be too deep in his admiration, merely doing it for his own enjoyment. "Gale—" in a show of desperation and faltering patience, you use your feet to buck your hips off the bed. "—I need you. Now."

Your plea snaps him out of his trance. He stops altogether, instead becoming awestruck at the sight of your body teeming with desire as it tugs against its restraint. You pout when he removes his fingers, watching as he pops them into his mouth to clean them. His brows come together as he savors the taste, though he doesn't linger on it for long as he quickly begins fumbling with the waistband of his pants.

He pulls the material from his hips, slinging both that and his underwear to the floor. You watch with blown pupils as his cock springs free, wishing you could run your fingertips down the happy trail on his stomach all the way to his shaft.

Holding your stare, he uses his hand to give himself a few pumps, smearing the excess of precum over his sensitive head. His body jolts slightly from the sensitivity, a small moan bubbling up his throat.

With that, he lowers himself on top of you, and you readily spread your legs for him. His tip finally breaches your entrance, and you let out a sound of relief into his mouth as he kisses you. He starts out slow, but you're not sure if it's for your sake or his. A sharp breath is sucked through his teeth as he fully sheathes himself into your warmth, reveling in how your cunt tries to draw him in further.

"You're not making this easy, are you?" His words come out strained by your ear.

You laugh breathily in response. "Maybe that'll teach you not to be such a tease next time."

With a groan, he begins to move. The bed creaks under every thrust he makes, sending ripple after ripple of pleasure to your core. Lewd noises fill the room as he repeatedly delves into your wet hole, the squelching building with his rhythm. Your legs wrap around his back, trying with all your strength to pull him closer, closer, until you finally feel his base hit your opening.

His head moves to nuzzle against your shoulder, and the reflection of your entangled bodies on the ceiling is made visible to you. You watch his back flex with every movement, noting how he completely loses himself between your legs; every now and then you'll see the tendons in his hands bulge as he grips the sheets, or how he kisses your collarbone to cover up a moan.

In your infatuation, you remember him mentioning the mirror being there for you to watch yourself, not him. Your eyes flit back to your face, almost surprised by who's staring back at you— stray hairs decorate your features, your brows are kneaded together in ecstasy, and your puffy, swollen lips are parted to accommodate your ragged panting— you’ve never seen yourself look so out of sorts. In fact, something about it turns you on more.

Just look at what he's done to you, how he's made you unravel for him. He has you restrained to the bed like you're his whore, and you don't even fight it. He begins to fuck you faster, harder, chasing an orgasm, all the while you lie there and let him have his way with you.

The coils in the bed groan as he pounds into you, his grunts continuously more audible than the last. The muscles in his arms tense repeatedly, riddling his limbs with ridges of definition. His rhythm begins to stutter, the motion of his hips getting sloppy with need; there's a desperation to him that tells you he's close.

You arch your lower back so that each of his needy thrusts hits your G-spot, forcing a loud moan from your chest. The persistent stimulation has your core tightening and a pit forming in your stomach as you anticipate your high. You take in a few shallow breaths before throwing your head back, your second orgasm violently ripping through you. Your body squirms uncontrollably beneath him, digging your nails into your palms.

He has a front row seat to your symphony of pleasure, each mewl like heaven to his ears. "I love the sounds you make," he praises, wishing he had the blessing of hearing you like this more often.

As if hoping to draw out his climax now, your velvety walls spasm and tighten around him, pulling moan after moan from his lips. "I want you to cum," you whimper against his ear, your voice shaky from his relentless pace. "Cum for me. Please."

He falls apart under your coaxing. Letting out a choked sound of euphoria, he reluctantly pulls himself from you. You gasp at the sudden feeling of emptiness while he finishes onto your stomach, watching how he throws his head back and bucks his hips with each spurt of cum.

Layers of warm seed spread across your heaving abdomen. The magic binding your hands almost immediately breaks, turning into a cloud of blue that fizzles into nothing. Your aching wrists fall haphazardly to your sides, too exhausted from remaining in that position to move again.

After a moment of recuperation, he stumbles to his feet, grabbing a towel by the bath before soaking it with the warm water inside. When he returns, he sits on the side of the bed, gently and delicately wiping up the mess he'd left on you.

He looks so focused while he cleans, making sure the rag doesn't leave anything behind. You can't help fawning at his concentration, a soft smile finding its way onto your face. He glances up once before doing a double take, not expecting to find you staring. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly.

He then picks up your tired wrists and massages them, leaving a small peck on each. You assume that's his way of 'kissing it better'.

Once he's done, he leaves the cloth in a damp wad on the nightstand. Flopping onto the bed with a hand supporting his head, he turns to look at you. "So… shall we do it in the bath next?"

#sorry this ended up shorter than i anticipated i had to cut some stuff out cuz it was taking too long to get to the suckin n fuckin #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale dekarios x tav #gale x reader #oneshot #x reader

[soulessjourney]

Mother and Father Are Fighting Again

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: Tav and Gale clash over the role of the party's leader.

Warnings: Some language, Humor, Tav and Gale Bickering

A/N: 100% how I envisioned the party selecting thier leader going. This guy is a little short but I do hope you enjoy it!

Your small yet growing group sits around the fire, their gazes occasionally landing on each other and often resting on you. There you are, half asleep, your hair tangled and messy on one side of your head. They had woken you up because the thought of having no official leader plagued Astarion’s thoughts at night, to the point where he couldn't meditate properly. Rubbing your hands over your face, Shadowheart picks at her nails before speaking up.

“I think Tav would be a good fit; I mean, she is the one who got us all together in the first place,” she says, earning a hum of agreement from everyone but Gale.

Letting out a yawn, you bring your hands up to rub at your eyes, and Gale points at you. “I disagree; she can barely keep her eyes open. We need a leader who can be alert just in case someone decides to raid our camp. She sleeps like a log; I mean, look how long it took us to wake her this morning.” Your eyes slowly trail over to Gale before falling into a tired glare.

“I’m sorry that it was hard to wake me. It’s not like we fought an entire goblin camp yesterday while you sat there and nagged me about having the Tiefling's celebration here last night,” you snap, brushing the stray hairs from your face. “Besides, I didn’t ask to be included in the nominations; they all just decided to include me. I don’t even want to be the leader of the group,” you say, throwing your arms in the air.

Gale goes to say something before Karlach speaks up. “Well, think about it, soldier. Whenever we speak to others, they immediately begin talking to you. You walk with confidence; they already think that you’re our leader. You defuse situations and persuade people just like a leader does,” she says, causing Gale to let out a groan.

Nodding along with her words, you can see where she is coming from. Those in Emerald Grove talked to you and only you as your party stood behind you waiting for something to happen. When you dealt with Auntie Ethel, she specifically dealt with you and only you. “You’re right; maybe I will consider running for the position. I mean, if people already think that I lead our group, why not?”

Gale shoots up, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head. “No, you just said you don’t want to lead our group; you don’t get to backtrack now. That’s not fair at all. Besides, my case still stands; you’re not fit to be a leader, especially if we can’t even wake you. You’ve also made some questionable choices. For example, who just decides they want to take on an entire camp for a cuddly bear?”

Crossing your arms, you lean back against the log and against Shadowheart's leg. “I’m allowed to change my mind, especially when someone makes a valid point. And I didn’t decide to raid the goblin camp just because Halsin is a cute little bear,” you gush, before your smile drops. “I did it because allying ourselves with most of Emerald Grove was in our best interest, and the best way to do that was to take down their leaders and then wipe the rest of them out. Besides, most of it was done for us when I chose to poison their drinks,” you shrug, a smug smile spreading across your face as Shadowheart pats your shoulder in agreement.

Gale lets out a scoff as he racks his mind for anything else to hold against you. His eyes widen before a sly smile spreads across his face. “Maybe if you and Astarion weren’t sneaking around so much, you’d actually be able to sleep.” So, he had heard you sneak off last night. Heads slowly turn to look at Astarion, who raises his hand, his eyes widening slightly.

“In my defense, oh who am I kidding, I won’t hide the fact that our night together was just as enjoyable as watching you get drunk and cry over Mystra.” Astarion shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Karlach lets out a laugh, and you turn to face her with a confused look. “Sorry, soldier, you just looked so horrified when Gale pointed out your nighttime escapades. Don’t worry; we’re all quite aware that you and Fangs fancy each other. You’re not that secretive. Just do tell Shadowheart and me the details later.” She shrugs, earning a groan from you as you hide your face in your hands while Shadowheart lets out a hearty laugh.

Gale clears his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention and giving you a break from the girls trying to fish for any details they could force out of you. “Are we just ignoring the elephant in the room here? That elephant being I’m the most qualified to lead our little group of... you.” You raise a brow, your hands moving to fix and straighten your hair out.

“Alright, Gale, since you’re being so moody, do I need to go find a boot for you to chew on so you don’t explode on us?” You press, “Besides, they’re our friends, and they all have names, so I suggest you start learning them. Some leader you want to be.” You grumble, looking away. The bickering between you and Gale goes on for some time as the heads of your friends move to watch whoever is talking.

You weren’t sure who got tired and broke first, but Lae’zel speaks up. “Why don’t we just vote? Each person can cast two votes, and we go from there. It can make figuring out the leader easier and just as fair.” Lae’zel wasn’t one for many words, but when she brought up ideas, they sure as hell were amazing. If only you could get her to actually pitch in on attack plans more often. “Those who want to run can’t vote, just so we know you’re not casting votes for yourself.” She says, grabbing a journal from her tent. Ripping out the paper, she sets them down on the makeshift desk made out of a rock a few feet away. Setting out the quill and ink, she turns and nods. “Cast your votes and then place them into the helmet on the table.” She says, watching as the other camp members stand up and walk over to the table.

Looking at Gale, he keeps his eyes trained on you, and you let your eyes narrow in his direction. “What do you want, lizard brain?” You snap, shifting your body away, and you look over your shoulder, your eyes narrowing even more.

“I have a lizard brain? Have you not looked in the mirror recently? Actually no, lizards are extremely intelligent creatures. Now, a good insult is that you look like a lizard.” He quips, sending you a triumphant smile.

Before you could respond, Shadowheart sighs and sits between the both of you. “If you two don’t stop arguing, I’ll have Astarion tie you both up and leave you here as we move on.” She grumbles, only to earn a laugh from Astarion.

“I would too! I mean, Darling, you would just as delectable tied up for me, begging me to let you go.” He hums, only to earn a horrified gag from Gale, and your expression to match his. Astarion was many things, but a shameless flirt with zero filter was one of them. Sure, you were attracted to him, given your many outings into the woods together at night, but sometimes you reevaluate just as to what about him drew you in with half the things he manages to say.

Lae'zel settles back onto the ground, arranging the scraps of paper before her. Counting them, she lifts her gaze, eyes shifting between you and Gale. "Tav wins the votes," she declares, casually tossing the helmet aside. Gale glances around at everyone, beginning to complain, alleging that you had charmed them in an attempt to secure the votes.

Karlach sends Gale a pitying smile. "Sorry, Gale. It's nothing against you. Tav just appears to have our best interests in mind and is a natural leader. Not that you're not a leader, but it just feels right to follow in her footsteps," Karlach says gently. Gale nods in understanding, then looks at you.

"I apologize for being childish, Tav. That was extremely wrong of me, and I shouldn't have done that. You deserve the role as much as anyone else here. I will follow your command and trust you to lead us in the right path," he states, bowing his head. His words and actions bring a smile to your face.

"Thank you, Gale, and I apologize as well. I promise to be the best leader I can be. Your input matters to me; I can't make decisions without you guys. But I do promise one thing: I will get these tadpoles out of our heads and save every single one of you. You're my family, and you all deserve saving." You notice Astarion looking at you, pride and admiration filling his eyes. There's something about that gaze that brings a blush to your cheeks. It's a look you'd kill to see over and over again.

Astarion uncrosses his arms, smiling gently at both you and Gale. "I'm glad you both kissed and made up. It's extremely odd to watch our mother and father fight again," he remarks, earning a confused look from you and Gale as the others laugh. Clearly, you both missed a chapter in this adventure.

#dnd elves #high elves #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #bg3 fic #astarion drabble #astarion fic #bg3 tav #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #karlach #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel

[sankttealeaf]

First of all happy birthday!!!!

Second of all omg I love your writing, and the prompts you just shared.?? Could I request gn Tav and Astarion for the:

⋆ "i'd still know you." Bonus points if it is not ascended Astarion saying this to Tav 👀

Thank you in advance if you choose to write this and have a great birthday!! ❤️

thank you!!! ended up thinking too much about astarion "ah yes i will manipulate tav into doing what i want - oh no i think am in love" baldur'sgate3 too much while writing this. i hope you enjoy it!!<3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"i'd still know you" [prompt list <- send me another!] [ao3]

pairing ; astarion x gender neutral!reader

summary ; Astarion's plan is fool-proof until you come along and start to break it down brick by brick.

other info ; may have gone a little wild with this. a deeper look into astarion and tav's relationship throughout the game and how easily astarion's walls were broken down by them. mainly astarion pov but kind of jumps between tav + astarion thoughts

warnings ; manipulation, astarion backstory, implied sexual content but nothing explicitly mentioned, things get resolved in the end

word count ; 3.2k

“I don't need to know where we begin and end, I'd still know you”

De Selby (Part 2) - Hozier

When he first meets you, Astarion thinks you are a fool.

He despises the way you offer to help anyone in need, no questions asked. It’s even worse when you deny any form of payment for it. He cannot help but allow the frustration to take over each time you get side-tracked. Why now must he meet someone with so much goodness in their heart after he spent centuries suffering? Why must you be so kind?

Your kindness consumes him as he spends his days trying to figure out ways to use it against you. He’ll need help with his own personal goals and it would be oh so easy to exploit how eager you were to help others. He buries you with pretty words and sultry looks and can feel you falling for his trap, hook, line, and sinker. 

You begin to seek him out each morning and night, asking for his opinions on things and listening to everything he has to say. He finds it amusing each time you walk up to him with a list of things to talk about. You even start to offer your own blood to him after the rather unfortunate incident of catching him trying to feed on you. Really, this was too easy. 

Laying with you after the party with the tieflings is only to cement the snare he places around you. It was hunting season and you were the poor deer that fell into his trap. A shame, but it mattered not to him. He gets what he wants and you get to feel useful helping someone. It doesn’t matter what emotions he has to exploit along the way. Each time he feels himself grow distant during the entanglement you brought him back, fingers tracing his skin and pulling him closer. When you feel the harsh lines of his scar and a frown appears on your face, he distracts you with a kiss, any questions melting away in your mind instantly. 

A fool-proof plan, and Astarion is executing it perfectly so far.

As time passes on he starts to find himself waiting for you to approach him in the evenings. He pretends to not care but every time he hears you approach he feels anxiety gnawing in his stomach and if his heart could beat he was certain it would be pounding. He’s managed to memorise the sound of your footfalls whenever you get near his tent, a small thing he assumes is just another step in his plan. That’s what everything was, another box to tick, another thing to cross off. He was remembering things about you to use against you - no other reason.

Recently you have been giving him books you pick up along your travels, claiming you had heard him talking about the lack of “good reading material” to Gale one morning. He stacks each one neatly in his tent, keeping them to himself and refusing to share. You got them for him, after all. He searches his brain for days on ways to repay you for the ever-growing library in his tent and has to stop himself because that is not part of his plan. He isn’t supposed to want to thank you. It’s like you entered his well-defended home and started to disarm all the traps aimed at you. You broke down the walls with such care, placing the bricks to the side to rebuild into something else. He can’t stop you from doing so, no matter how hard he tries. 

With each kind gesture he notices more about you. The way you laugh loudly at camp with the others or how you make each person you speak to feel like they are the most important person in the world. He yearns to speak to you, to get his share of loot or hear a funny story from your day. He wants you around him and it confuses him. Your kindness is infectious and Astarion begins to feel like a fever is brewing inside him. He needs to sweat it out yet the only thing he finds craving for is you. Always you.

Why must it be you?

He hears you approach before he looks up from his book, already throwing a suggestive comment your way to see your cheeks flush and your eyes dart around nervously. You ask if he’s doing alright and Astarion decides that this is the perfect time to be vulnerable with you. He wants to know if his plan was working, if you truly would do anything for him. You listen carefully with bated breath as he lays out his backstory to you, how he wants revenge on his master for all the years of torture and torment he was put through. Even though he had been hoping for it, he’s still shocked when you tell him you will help him get his vengeance in any way possible.

Of course you would help him. He has been betting on your kindness all this time, it’s why he chose you to begin with. Yet as you walk away he cannot help but feel seen for the first time in years. You want to help him. You are willing to put your life on the line to help him. He swallows down a bubble of guilt and ignores how sick he is feeling. Any more of this and he was certain he would perish.

For the next few days you talk to him first. Every morning and every evening you would check in and at first he waits for you to take back your offer to kill Cazador with him, but you never do. The only time he spots that you have doubts is when he mentions how he should be the one to ascend, not his master. He should have the power, right? It’s only fair after all. When you tell him that you didn't think that was a good idea, he’s caught off guard. Power is what he always wanted and you are refusing to help him? The conversation ends with a bitter taste in his mouth and you walking away from him. He wants to reach out for you but he can’t. 

It’s fine, he tells himself. With enough convincing, you will support his need for ascension. You had to. He wants you by his side, after all. 

There’s a lack of conversations with you going forward from that point, the whole talk of becoming a powerful vampire lord being something you weren’t entirely wanting to help Astarion go through with. You mention how he’s just continuing the cycle of abuse, that he’ll be as trapped as Cazador is, but you aren’t sure if Astarion is even listening to you. So, you decided it was best to give him space and let him come to that conclusion by himself. And if he doesn’t? Well, you suppose there will be two vampires you’ll have to kill in the future.

Even if you aren’t talking, you still look out for him when you find yourself in combat. A gentle touch of his arm as you move around him to flank an enemy, throwing your last potion of healing his way, finding high ground for him to run to for a better advantage. You seek him out at the end of the fight to check he wasn’t too badly injured and he notices you only give cursory glances at the others. When you’re happy he isn’t too hurt, you give a gentle squeeze of his arm before going to rummage through the dead bodies for loot. The warmth from your hand lingers on his arm long after you are gone and he finds himself holding the area, watching as you call over Lae’zel to show her some new weapons that could be of use. Still, after killing enemies, you treat everyone with kindness. 

The walls around him are fully gone now and he can’t help but wait for you to come back to him again. Perhaps the traps in his metaphorical house aren’t there to keep anyone out, but to keep him in.

You begin to talk to him again, dancing around the topic of Cazador and his plans for taking his master’s place like a deadly waltz. The closer you get to Baldur’s Gate the more Astarion’s plans weigh heavily in the air. Your uncertainty that it is the best option begins to rub off on him and one night he finds himself doubting that this is really what he wants. Of course it was, he wants the power and the control. But that meant losing you - you made your stance clear one day as you travelled, catching him in conversation to tell him you would not be by his side if he chose to complete the ritual himself. You walked away before he could question you further.

Your opinion is ruining him. It’s wrecking everything in his mind and leaving him stranded on an island he isn’t sure he wants to be on anymore. His plan made sense when he could picture you by his side, probably not as an equal - he didn't want to worry about another vampire fighting for his rule over the city, after all, but maybe as a loyal spawn. You are already so loyal to everyone, it would be like nothing changed! But everything will change. You are in his head. He wishes he had never picked you to be the target of this plan. How could he be so foolish? Of course your kindness wouldn't allow him to grow in power. You are too, too kind. 

Astarion thinks himself a fool.

Defeating Cazador is a brutal task that he has only ever dreamed of seeing to completion. He stands at a crossroads now, knowing he could easily complete the ritual for himself and ascend to the god-like power that Cazador wanted. It would be so easy to do so, yet he looks back at where you stand with the others and something in him breaks. Something in him snaps and it feels like all those traps he set up around him suddenly went off with him in the middle of it. It’s cathartic, with each plunge of the dagger into his master’s chest Astarion feels like this is what he deserves. Over and over again he settles into this weird mixture of grief and anger and allows himself to have his moment of complete power over Cazador. It’s not the ascension he wants, but the one he deserves.

You watch from the sidelines as he allows his anger to consume him, Cazador lying limp in front of him as he repeats the motion of getting his vengeance. You turn your head away to let him have this moment to himself.

He’s distant that night. His plans are complete and there’s nothing left for him to worry about except removing the parasite. He’ll return to the life of shadows and can only hope you would still want to be around him when all is said and done. No matter how badly the outcome of this drags him down he still can’t bring himself to be angry at you for causing him to doubt it. Frustrated or annoyed, maybe, but never angry. 

So when he can’t find you at camp, he starts to worry.

Gale calls for everyone to grab some food and Astarion does not see you approach the fire. He does not see you sitting with anyone else, nor does he see you giving affection to the various animals you refused to leave behind. There’s no sound of your laughter or gentle touch from behind as you walk by him, no hint of you anywhere. It’s not hard to slip away from the group as he begins to do a loop around the outskirts of camp to try and find where you are. Concern rattles his bones as he wonders if something happened, if he would stumble across your dead body or worse - you decided to leave. 

His anxieties are eased when he finds you sitting a few minutes away from camp on a fallen tree, your back to him. There’s no need to spook you so he purposefully steps on an old branch, breaking it to gain your attention. You turn quickly, hand coming up to ready yourself if there was a fight. With a sigh, you relax once you see him approach.

“Hello,” you say quietly, shuffling over to give Astarion room to sit beside you, if he wants.

“You’re not at camp?” It’s a stupid question but it’s the only thing he could think to say. There is so much he wants to tell you but finding the right words is proving difficult.

You laugh, and Gods he has missed hearing it. It’s such a simple sound but he is certain it was better than any healing from a bottle or Shadowheart. If he could make you laugh forever he would do so, if you only gave him the chance to. He takes a seat next to you, the cool evening air whipping around you both. Astarion sees you frown as you look down at your feet, hands fidgeting nervously. Despite himself, he reaches out to hold them still.

Looking up at him, you take a deep breath as you prepare for what you want to ask him. “You didn't go through with the ritual?” you ask, even though you were there to witness it. You saw him kill Cazador and give up the power with each stab he carved into the vampire lord and had no idea what made him have a change of heart at the last minute.

Astarion shrugs, wanting to blow it off like it didn't bother him at all, but it did. It really did. 

“It was you.” The words sound threatening as he speaks and he winces as your eyes grow wide, worry spreading across your face that he was here to get revenge on you interfering. 

“Astarion, I’m sorry, I didn't mean to ruin it,” you say quickly, moving your hands away from him and slinking back to put some distance between you both.

The way you move away from him in fear hurts him as he retreats back in on himself. Maybe he should have taken the power, that way you would have something to fear about him-- No. No. He refuses to think like that. Not at you. Never at you.

“What I meant is that you were the one to put the doubts into my head about the ritual,” he corrects himself and you are confused. Still, he continues. “You kept saying things that weren’t aligning with my plan and I thought-”

You interrupt him. “Plan?” 

Maybe it is time to come clean. “I had a plan. Manipulate you, say and do whatever you wanted me to so that you would help me with Cazador. You’re so kind and compassionate I knew it wouldn't take me long to get you hooked on me.” He can’t stand to see the look on your face as he explains himself. “And yet I found myself wanting you more than I planned for…”

His words fade out as you begin to realise how foolish you had been to believe anything he told you was truthful. He’s pacing in front of you now, explaining how this all fell apart because of you and it feels as if he should be blaming you, but he never does. You wait for the accusatory points and looks that never come.

“So you used me?” you ask once he stops speaking, out of breath from how quickly he threw that at you and looking at you in a way you can only describe as sad. 

He runs his hands through his hair in defeat, shoulders slumping and hands falling to his side. “Yes. At the start I used you. But things changed! You changed! You changed me!” He’s certain he’s not making any sense but carries on regardless. The floodgates of whatever feelings he’s been repressing have opened and he was going to drown in them if you didn't give him a hand to pull him out. “It’s you! It’s always been you. Even if I ascended it would still be you I searched for. You have ruined me, and yet I can’t help but want you to see me, to look at me, to simply exist in the space around me!”

“That’s what the Gods made me for, right? To ruin you?” You look at him with a smile as he stops in his ranting.

He’s confused, giving you a frown as the words hit him like a spray of water in the face. “Are you quoting me?”

You shrug. “It’s a good line. Even if you didn't mean it.” Your voice has a hint of sadness to it and Astarion knows if he throws any other sweet line at you you wouldn't believe him. He says your name softly like it’s the first time he’s ever said it and you look at him, conflicted at how you should feel right now. 

“I mean it now. My plan was perfect until you started showing me actual kindness…” He sits back down, hands in his head. “How was I supposed to revel in power if you aren’t by my side? How was I supposed to live knowing you hated me?”

“I don’t think I could ever fully hate you,” you admit, giving his shoulder a small nudge. “Though I was fully prepared to kill you if you got too power hungry.”

“It would be an honour to be killed by you,” he replies, hand brushing against yours. He wants to hold you close, promise you that everything he says from now on was the truth but he wasn’t sure you would believe it. “I do regret what I did, you know. At first I didn't care what happened but then…”

“Then you started to care.”

It’s the truth yet Astarion feels so exposed when you say it. He cannot place when he started to care about you beyond his plan but he knows that he does. And he accepts it, here and now. He accepts that this is the ending fate has given him and wishes for you to hold his hand as you progress into the next chapter of life. 

“You made me feel happy. You have no idea how long it has been since I was truly happy.” It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders as he reveals this to you. All those long days of mentally keeping himself in check and in line with what he was planning and now it is crumbling away. “I will gladly take the rest of my life in the shadows if it means I get to hold you in the morning. No matter what happens next, I’d still know you. And that’s all I care about right now.”

You pull him into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around him and keeping him close. He melts into your touch and is relieved that you haven’t pushed him away. Because after all this, he still knows you, and you are so very kind towards him. Even when he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it.

Astarion is foolish for believing your kindness wouldn't be his downfall. He’s a fool for you.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x gender neutral reader #; tealeaf's writing