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theladyismyshepard · 3 months

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On Your Knees, I Stand Tall

NSFW, MDNI below the cut

(How the Ladies Would Suck Your Magical!Dick)

Shadowheart –

The teasing, little devil… The way she looked at you so coquettishly through her lashes, the campfire burning in her eyes just as equally as her desire. You were squirming before she even grabbed your hand to guide you back to her tent. You were trembling when you felt magic washing over you, and before your very eyes you watched as the front of your trousers swelled with a sudden bulge.

You couldn’t help the whimper, and you also couldn’t help but to be soothed by her following cooing.

“It’s okay, my love,” Shadowheart whispered against your lips, giving them a quick, but loving kiss before moving to continue a trail down your chin and to your neck, “Lay back and allow me to make you feel good,”

Your brain was short-circuiting from the new sensations that you were unaccustomed to. With each soft kiss placed on your skin, you felt a twitch from your new member, and you knew she felt it poking into her if her excited giggling was anything to go by. She pulled your shirt up just enough to reveal your chest and after she placed a kiss atop each nipple, she continued her descent down your stomach until she licked at your pubic bone.

You were already panting against the strain of your trousers against your erection. When Shadowheart’s hands finally freed you from the restraint, your dick was standing at attention, just for her attention. Her eyes were wide as she examined you in all your glory, but before you could feel any embarrassed urge to cover yourself, she leaned forward and gave the tip an experimental lick before pulling back to gauge your reaction.

Your head fell back but you were quick to pick it back up. Watching Shadowheart suck on your magical dick was not a sight you were willing to miss. Your chest was stuttering with each uneven breath and it was the unspoken push that she needed to dive back in. The wet heat of her mouth engulfed just the head at first, but after a few strokes with her tongue, she was opening up to take more of your length. Shadowheart loved to take her time with you, and this was no different. She slicked up every bit of your dick, slow and torturous inch by slow and torturous inch.

She was intent on maintaining your eye contact, but her eyes fluttered shut and if you weren’t mistaken, you’d say she was enjoying herself just as much as you were. Her head began bobbing up and down as she hollowed out her cheeks, and the wet pull had you seeing stars. It was a miracle your hands hadn’t grabbed at the back of her neck and your hips didn’t pump your dick deeper down her throat. No, you wanted this to last.

Your hands finally acted as though they had a mind of their own. Your left hand wound into the hair behind her ear and you gave her scalp an affectionate little scratch. Your right hand cupped her full cheek and your thumb massaged smooth circles as you felt your own bulge encased within. Her eyes fluttered open at your sweet touches and she briefly nuzzled against your hand. You used the other hand that was scratching behind her ear to brush back some of the hair from her face.

Oh… She flattened her tongue against the underside of the shaft, and your head fell back against the bedroll as you closed your eyes. Her hand splayed out across your hip, her fingertips gently scratching at the sensitive skin there, and watched as your stomach fluttered. Your hips began to shallowly pump after your building release, and she moaned so titillatingly, encouraging you to use her mouth however you needed.

The vibrations of her throat coupled with the quickened suction as she sucked you with more intent, sensing your need to cum without you even begging for it, had you spilling onto her tongue until you were empty. She placed one last kiss on the tip of your rapidly softening member before it disappeared altogether.

Lae'zel –

Lae’zel was never one to back down from a challenge, and when you arched your brow, a playful little grin on full display along with your newly erect member, she charged head-on into your little game. She was none-too-gentle when she seized forward and grabbed onto your dick. For all her brutish front, she stroked your member almost cautiously while watching your face the entire time.

You made a show of your pleasure to embolden her movement, and once she saw that you were enjoying the feel of her hand, she kneeled before you. You had seen the githyanki kneel before gods and superiors, and now you know the rush they must have felt. But you doubted that they knew the joys of having her mouth take the entirety of their length in one go.

You were trying to force air through your lungs even though your throat was constricting around each gasping breath. Your hands instinctively landed on her shoulders as a means to ground both of you to the present. Lae’zel pulled back just enough to keep the head between her thin lips, and dove back in with just as much vigor. It was almost as if she had a specific goal in mind, and she wouldn’t slow her pace until she carried it out.

Her battle-weathered hands reached up to cup your rear. Her fingers splayed out across your ass before her fingernails pinched into your flesh. You were a jumbled mess torn between the ecstasy that was the slick, wet warmth of Lae’zel’s tongue and the exquisite throbbing of her commanding grip. All you could do was relish in what Lae’zel was offering up to you from down on her knees.

She used her grip on your rear as leverage to jolt you forward and the underside of your cock smoothly slid across the expanse of her tongue. The whine bubbled in the back of your throat with no warning as your right hand traveled from her shoulder to the back of her neck. You made no move to bury your dick further into her mouth, you just felt the incessant need for physical contact, to deepen the connection between you two if it were even possible to get any closer.

You pet at the back of her neck, your fingers lazily scratching at the fine hairs at the base of her scalp. You felt the high tip of her nose nuzzle against a patch of your pubic hair before you felt her hot breath exhale through her nostrils, warming and condensing your flesh. You stare down at her in amazement as she deepthroated every inch of you, slowly pulled back, and forcefully pushed your length back in in one go.

Lae’zel’s only intention at the moment was to get you off, and she wasted no time with explicit words or gentle handiwork. She was a battle-hardened warrior who was used to the fast-paced life, so she had a habit of sometimes treating your orgasm as a mission for her to complete with efficiency and speed. As you felt your lower stomach muscles twitching, you knew the exact moment you were standing right on the edge, about to plummet head-first into a body-rocking orgasm.

“Do it,” Lae’zel pulled back to command gruffly, her throat audibly sore from having it stretched out, and before you could even swallow down your gasping breaths, she licked a hard swipe up the head of your dick, taking in the clear liquid oozing from it.

“Lae,” It was a mixture of a moan and a whine, but it was all you needed to say to convey that you were so close, but you needed something to shove you right over the edge.

Your hands were now tangled in her hair and your hips were jogging forward without your permission as you subconsciously began to fuck her mouth. With every pump forward she would meet you halfway and with every withdrawal she would pull back as well, meeting your rhythm with fervor. After one particular motion where you felt yourself bottom out, one of the hands that was still gripping your ass drifted down to caress the back of your thigh, and the feather-light tickling against your skin had you painting the back of her throat with your cum. Your new member vanished before Lae’zel could even release you, and she was licking her lips at both the disappearance and the new taste on her tongue.

Karlach –

You had felt Karlach’s unwavering gaze on the front of your pants from the moment an unfamiliar spell had been cast on you. Initially, you were too frantic to feel any sort of humiliation when Shadowheart proved clueless as well and you decided the wisdom that Jahiera would surely have to offer would be beneficial. Karlach was unnaturally quiet the entire time you explained your situation to the druid. All she could muster up was a shrug and told you to put it to use while giving Karlach a wink.

The tiefling remained just as quiet even when you two had reached the room you would be sharing that night, two separate beds turned down and at the ready for you. She said not a word even when you grumbled a few incredulous remarks about Jahiera’s apparent lack of expertise on your not-so-little “problem”. You sighed in defeat and slumped back on your bed, your arms crossed behind your head and acting as a cushion as you stared up at the ceiling with a furrowed brow.

There was a very noticeable tent standing tall in your pants, and you wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t make you feel like squirming right out of your own skin. You had to fight against the reflexive urge to reach down and squeeze some sort of pressure to it. To distract yourself, you craned your neck to engage in some sort of small talk with Karlach, but the words died on your lips when you noticed her standing rigidly at the foot of her bed, the flames of her body burning bright.

“Are you…” You started but trailed off when you noticed the tiefling sweating more profusely than usual, prompting you to exhale shakily.

Karlach seemed to startle from her daze and subconsciously licked her lips before clearing her throat. Your eyes, which were dancing across every feature of her face, caught the motion of her tongue, and you felt self-conscious at the visible twitch of your dick. You moved to cover yourself, but Karlach was suddenly before you, moving to catch your hands, but thinking better of it at the last second and instead her hands hovered over yours.

“You don’t have to hide from me, ya know,” Karlach assured, giving you her signature sunny smile, before it morphed into a smirk, “I think you look hot as fuck right now,”

Your mouth opened and closed, but you were speechless at her blatant desire. You weren’t sure what exactly she had in mind, but you now knew that your new member must have been what had Karlach so speechless herself earlier. The thought of Karlach so zoned out with nothing but your dick guiding her forward was surprisingly quite the turn on for you. You pulled your hands back and returned your arms behind your head once again, keeping a curious eye on her the entire time to see what she would do.

Your stomach was quickly rising and falling with each quick breath you took, and you shuddered from the strain of your trousers against your growing erection. Karlach must have sensed your uncomfortable situation, and with her being the kindest person that you knew, she was quick to gather her emotions in a well-practiced routine, just enough to calm her visibly licking flames before she allowed herself to reach closer into your space.

Her index finger drew hesitant circles along the outline of your dick, and her natural warmth seemed as if it spread from her single finger alone to your very core. You couldn’t help the surprised jolt of your hips as your arousal clouded your mind, leaving you thinking of nothing but chasing after the pleasure shooting through you. You would have mumbled out an apology if you had more wits about yourself at that moment, but you saw nothing but static when she began untying the string that was keeping your trousers up with nothing but her nails.

“Already ready for me, eh?” Karlach pointed out with a coy grin before her eyes cut back to your dick as she freed you for you both to see. “Who’d a thought that you’d be a handful… or a mouthful it looks like,”

A gasp tumbled from your lips at her words, and you had no chance of your breath returning to you when she forcefully grabbed the waistband of your pants and brought them down your hip to expose all of you to the cool air. You shivered, feeling goosebumps flaring across your bare skin, but you were never cold for long when Karlach was around. Her eyes were wide as her mouth parted with her own stunned arousal, and her flames erupted once more, causing her to pull back and breathe calmly to herself.

You swallowed thickly as you watched her snuff out her own flames. The minute of silence did nothing to soften your hard dick, but you weren’t about to interrupt her concentration. You were heavily rewarded for your patience when she returned to your side and asked you to take your trousers all the way off and sit on the very edge of the bed. She gently touched your knees and spread your legs apart just enough to fit her body between them. She was entranced by your length yet again, but this time, she did nothing to fight against the hunger driving her mouth-first onto your cock.

You choked on your own spit at her lack of timidity, but you supposed that everything about Karlach was bold, even down to the way she’d drop to her knees and suck your dick. She was a greedy mix of licking and sucking as she eagerly attempted to bring you to the brink. You could feel her giddy smile on the lips surrounding you.

The warmth encasing you was uniquely Karlach and the wet pull and slide had you leaking pre-cum onto the back of her tongue already. You sighed and freed one arm from behind your head to snake down and gently curl around her intact horn. It was hot to the touch, but nothing you couldn’t withstand. Your thumb rubbed up and down the length of it, and Karlach moaned herself at the rare display of physical touch. You weren’t sure if her horns were sensitive or not, but you continued to gently massage her while also subtly guiding her quicker and quicker.

“Oh gods,” You groaned, your eyes squeezing shut and you had to hold yourself back from immediately spilling into her mouth when you felt laughter bubbling around your dick, and she assisted with that by pulling off with a pop.

“Nah, love,” she winked before placing a quick open-mouthed kiss atop the tip, sending a jolt of electricity through you, “It’s just little ol’ me, Karlach,”

You could see a look of pure concentration on her face as she split her attention between pleasing you and keeping herself neutral in the process. Your heart suddenly swelled in appreciation for the gift she was bestowing you. She was keeping every part of herself off of you aside from her mouth, not wanting to risk any burns marring your flesh. Your palm alone would surely be a bit reddened by the time you let go of her horn, and when you pulled away to inspect, it sure enough was.

Karlach was intent on getting you to cum with nothing but her mouth alone, and who were you to put up any fight? You sought after every trace of pleasure that curled your toes and let it wash over you until there was a building pressure mounting in your gut and had your dick throbbing against her tongue. Your hips began to pump further into her mouth as you danced along the edge, a fire blazing just beneath your skin as sweat broke out on your forehead. There was heat all around you, and just when you thought you would be burnt alive, Karlach shifted her head, and with each suck of your cock, she sank back down with a twist.

You came with a cry as you spilled into her mouth. Karlach lapped it up happily and licked you clean just as your new member disappeared. Her eyes widened with a gasp before a newfound hunger fueled her forward.

Minthara –

Minthara had been staring at you hard over the past few days. You had saved her life and she hadn’t exactly proven grateful for your actions. In fact, she had been sulking over nearly letting herself get killed, and was too unforgiving on herself to be thankful to you. She pushed herself in battle, she took watches over the camp in case there were any Absolutists lurking around, and most of all, she had distanced herself.

You had tried to explain that you care about her and that was why you had saved her, just as you knew she would protect you with her life. She had gruffly brushed it off stating that she should not need protection, that she was your sword and your shield, and while her feral attitude was what initially pulled you closer to her, you couldn’t help but to feel indignant. You had spared her and saved her when you had first met, so you both knew you were capable of handling yourself and lending your own protection as well.

You feared that she viewed herself as weak. Your party would be the first ones to describe how dangerous the adventure had been thus far, and there had been numerous close calls on everyone. But Minthara put herself of higher value over the others, and she refused to acknowledge any weakness in herself. Having you be the one to swoop in and save her must have been the icing on the cake.

As you leaned against the railing overlooking Baldur’s Gate in the hightower lookout of Wyrm’s Crossing, you released a sigh. It was a beautiful sight you would never get tired of, but at the moment, you had a lot on your mind surrounding your favorite drow. And almost as if summoning her yourself, there was a creak of the floorboards behind you, and you knew Minthara wanted you to know she was there.

You felt a magical aura surrounding you before there was an intense tingling sensation in your crotch area. Your brow creased before your mouth fell open in shock when you more-or-less felt yourself enlarging rather than saw it. You grew a dick out of nowhere and before you could even squawk, Minthara pressed her front against your back, her arms circling you before her hands stopped just below the waistband of your underwear. The fast pace that Minthara always set never failed to give you whiplash, and considering the past few days of her brooding, you could hardly keep up with her sudden change of tone.

“What’re-”

“Shh,” Minthara cut you off before moving to standing before you, “I’ve thought things over, and I see that I have failed to properly thank you for keeping me alive.”

“Minthara,” you started with a sigh, “You don’t have to-”

She interrupted you yet again, but this time there were no words. She slowly kneeled before you, her eyes never once leaving yours even as her fingers worked at the knot tightening your pants. She was smirking up at you and even as you towered above her, you somehow still felt like you were the prey in this situation. The hunger in her eyes implied she could eat you alive, and as your dick sprang free and nearly clipped her in the chin, you immediately deduced that she was about to.

“Watch the city, baby, because I’ll have you seeing your own stars in just a moment.”

Minthara was possessive over your body and your pleasure. She took you into her mouth and worshiped every inch as if it belonged to her. And if anyone were to ask you, your dick did belong to Minthara. She licked along a vein running from the base down the length before suckling just the tip into her mouth. She sucked with enough pressure that if you were to guess, you’d say she was attempting to leave her mark as a claim. You felt the not-so-subtle knick of her incisor scratching against you before she soothed any irritation by flattening her tongue and dragging it slowly over the slit.

You had seen the view of Baldur’s Gate thousands of times before. You were more interested in watching Minthara on her knees with your cock outlined in her cheek. She was milking you to ecstasy, and while she usually enjoyed teasing you into oblivion, tonight was a reward for loving her and she would refrain from leaving you a sobbing, wet mess… Though she would stand for some begging on your part.

“Should I let you cum, my love?” Minthara cooed up at you, her neck arching as her right hand came up to stroke you hard and fast.

“Please,” You gasped, your hands digging into the rail as a means to keep yourself upright.

“Where do you want to cum?”

You whimpered and your hips snapped forward against your will. You imagined her hand stroking your dick just before her awaiting tongue and coming in her mouth, painting her throat white with a claiming mark of your own. You imagined Minthara before you, shirtless, and shooting a load on her heaving chest. Your eyes screwed shut as your fantasies ran rampant, so you missed her leaning forward and giving a hard lick over the head before flicking it several quick times with feather-light licks with just the tip of her tongue.

You sputtered as your stomach muscles tightened before your spine arched and you were coming on her tongue. She refused to allow even a drop of you to escape and she had your mess licked clean just as the magic wore off.

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loveandfictionforall · 8 months

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Hello im on a bg3 binge and i found your stellar writing! My request is a little interesting, how about the crew with a ranger who’s been “blessed” by a nature god with beastly vigor(regeneration), incredible sense of smell, communicate with beasts, and has retractable bone claws? (Yes essentially wolverine)

I wasn't sure who exactly you meant, so I just wrote some general ones about everyone.

- Halsin would be proud to be a member of your crew. He would want to prowl with you as animals through the forest and would be deeply honored to walk beside a blessed child. He feels like you especially could understand the burden of their God.

- Astarion would notice your power. It would draw him in at first, after all you were a sight to behold and on your side he would win most battles. But after some times he wouldn't be able to just use you. Somewhere along the lines he began being proud to be a member of your crew, caring in shadows because he can understand the negatives of your power. Just like a slave to another.

- Karlach would love to ride on you once. I mean, in your beast form of course. But beside that, she loves formidable leaders and gladly follows your lead through this unusual quest.

- Wyll would care for your pain. Oversensitive senses can hurt a lot and to be able to heal very quickly was nice on the outside but through how much pain did you have to go on your regular day? He would be worried about the side effects or risks of being blessed, but can understand why you did it - after all he did also a pact.

- Shadowheart would be torn. You cared and worked for another god and that is a thought she doesn't like but also to be blessed by a god is a big honor and something she wants to achieve too.

- Lae'zel likes your power and strength. She will gladly walk along your side so long you are making the good choices, after all she doesn't care for any god.

- Gale would feel like you could understand his burden. He would talk to you a lot (whether you want to talk about it or not). Often he would ask for details, wanting to understand but also gain maybe a new power.

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xxhexwolfxx · 1 month

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𝓓𝓐𝓣𝓘𝓝𝓖 𝓗𝓒𝓢

A/N: I just wanted to do some of the girlies from BG3! It’s a bit short but hopefully you guys enjoy! <3

DISCLAIMER: None of these are connected! I just write down what I think. :]

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Karlach

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadowheart:

She loves to just sit down and drink a bottle of wine with you. It doesn’t even have to be expensive. As long as it’s with you she doesn’t mind.

She likes to go out on night walks with you. Sometimes pointing out different flowers.

Anytime you get hurt, she scolds you as she patches you up. No matter what happened, she’ll help you.

She likes to braid your hair! It’s not unusual to see you guys have matching hair.

She may not have a lot of memories but she doesn’t think about about it when she’s making memories with you.

She often prays for your safety to her goddess. Doesn’t matter if it’s Shar or Selûne, she’s praying.

Lae’zel:

She helps put up your hair (if it’s long enough) before you guys head out. Just in case you guys get into battle.

She likes to spar with you to help you learn more moves to fight. It usually ends up with you two cuddling.

She improves your weapons without being asked. Need your sword sharpened? Done. Need your bow fixed? Done. Need your clothes fixed? Done.

She likes doing warpaint with you. She’s gentle as her fingers glide along your skin with paint.

She loves cuddling with you. After a rough day or a day where she almost loses you, she seeks you out at night to cuddle.

She tells you different stories about her childhood. Sometimes they’re grim and sometimes they horrify you but you love hearing about them.

Karlach:

She is extremely touched starved. Once she’s able to touch you, she won’t let you go. She is constantly touching you.

If you have a nightmare, she’ll let you lay snug in her arms. She’ll talk softly to you as you slowly fall asleep.

She wraps her tail around you all the time. Anytime she’s jealous or if you’re too far for her comfort, she’ll pull you closer with her tail.

She always has to move around. If she’s right next to you then she’ll play with your hair or while holding your hand she’ll play with your fingers.

Sometimes takes your hits in the middle of battles. She’s strong and it only fuels her knowing you’re okay.

Makes up little nicknames for you when she’s feel playful. It could be the most ridiculous or the most sweetest nicknames ever.

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fandom-go-round · 6 months

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Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

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

Astarion:

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

Gale:

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

Halsin:

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

Karlach:

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

Lae’zel:

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

Shadowheart:

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

Wyll:

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

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thewizardhole · 3 months

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yangcherie · 5 months

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bathing.

𐀔 pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, lae’zel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).

𐀔 content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.

𐀔 sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?

𐀔 author’s note: they are freaks and its been very long since i’ve written. please forgive a lady if what she’s written is unappealing.

“Can you keep it – fucking quiet?!”

Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leader’s curves.

They didn’t even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Gale’s dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances they’ll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering – even if it’s only due to the lack of warmth in the river’s streams.

It’s wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Lae’zel) poked at the others stalking as if they weren’t shamelessly doing the same.

The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition – but they couldn’t blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.

“Well,” Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. “we’re all degenerates, it seems. We’re all looking forward to having a... fun time.”

A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. “We are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquil—”

“Oh, please! Don’t act like a saint in front of me!” The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. “We’re all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!”

Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyone’s faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.

Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. “It’s true!” She says with her signature sharp smile. “I wanted to see her tits!”

(Lae’zel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlach’s honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)

Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your body’s fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.

“Settle down, you circus; Tav’s coming!” Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a tree’s thick branches before joining them. Lae’zel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.

“All you filthy ska'keth.” Lae’zel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. “Enjoy the show.”

Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.

You quietly groan, trudging towards the river you’ve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes you’ve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.

Quickly deciding you’ve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor – starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor – even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.

You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until you’re trembling from the cold, until you’re hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair – using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; it’s been quite a while you’ve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?

(You hope so.)

Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.

A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized – with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldn’t give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.

The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns – that untroubled smile on your lips – they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarion’s throat would with your blood.

They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.

“Gale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!”

Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the tree’s branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.

Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft – including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.

“A man has to do and take what he can.” Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Lae’zel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.

“Just leave it.” Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. “We should leave, go back to camp. It’d be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.”

“Ugh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.” Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. “A party pooper, even.”

As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didn’t just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.

The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.

Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. “Soldier! You’re back!” You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.

“You would not believe what happened.” You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyone’s interest and attention with intense ease. “A wandering owlbear ate my clothes.”

They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Lae’zel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.

“Ah, owlbears.” Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. “They’d eat almost anything, really.”

Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, don’t you? You swallowed two of my books last night!

“You can borrow my clothes, for the night.” Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. “Thank you, Sha—”

“Well, you can have my clothes!” Karlach and Lae’zel shot up in unison.

“Sharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!” Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.

You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, you’d have a fair share of everyone’s wardrobe into yours.

Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the “owlbear” that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #gale x reader #halsin x reader #tavrem #as they say #this was fun to write #this was very lame actually #sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it

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multiverse-menagerie · 7 months

Note

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

#baldurs gate x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #Lae’zel x reader #halsin x reader #shadowheart x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader

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twi-liight · 8 months

Note

Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?

Reckless Attack ❣

Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!

An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.

Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.

Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.

Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.

A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.

Well.

Fuck.

ASTARION

"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”

Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.

They look away.

"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.

Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”

“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.

This time, it is different.

They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.

Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.

“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."

Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."

"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.

"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.

"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"

They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.

Fuck. Their head spins in circles.

"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"

"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."

Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.

"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"

"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"

"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"

"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.

He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.

At least there, they will be safe.

"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."

Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.

He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.

"Astarion," they plead.

He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.

"I almost lost the sun of my life today."

When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.

"It will not happen again."

GALE

"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.

He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."

His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.

"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"

"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.

Oh no. He knows that look.

They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?

No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."

"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"

"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.

Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?

He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.

"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."

The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?

No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.

"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."

He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.

"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.

They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.

"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.

KARLACH

"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.

They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.

"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."

Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.

All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.

Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."

"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."

Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.

She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.

She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."

"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."

Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."

"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."

"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"

"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"

"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.

"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"

Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.

"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.

"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."

"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x tav #gale x reader #gale x you #gale x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x you #karlach x tav #shadowheart #halsin #halsin is always just there. like. yeah ok guys. whatever

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angelltheninth · 8 months

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Heyyy I see you’re into Baldur’s Gate 3! I was wondering if you can please write something for Shadowheart, Halsin, Karlach and Astarion? Maybe sfw nsfw headcanons if that’s okay with you?

I assume this means you want both sfw and nsfw headcanons.

Pairing: Shadowheart, Halsin, Karlach, Astarion x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, biting, touch-starved, drinking blood, tail use, mild choking, semi-public sex, kissing, protectiveness, battle couple

A/N: Why is this game so fucking good?! Why is everyone so pretty?!

SHADOWHEART

Takes risks with you, she likes to push limits a little. From kissing you in the middle of a battle to dragging you to a barely hidden nook in between buildings for sex. It makes you a mess, putty in her hands and she loves it so much. She kisses you a lot, a lot, to silence you as well when you can keep it down, too drunk on the pleasure her hands give you.

HALSIN

Tends to let his more animalistic urges get the better of him once you're in a relationship. Since you're just his and no one else's he is very protective of you. Due to his experience he can show you many things that make your toes curl and your body go numb. Not your mind though, because he wants you to beg to go again, to ride his big cock and take more cum from him.

KARLACH

Is very sweet with you when you start dating. She's cuddling you, nuzzling you, then letting her rough fingers trace across your clit until you open your legs and let her in. She runs very hot still, her mouth, her tongue, her kisses, her fingers, her love for you most of all. Likes to wrap her tail around your neck too, she doesn't squeeze a lot but hard enough for you to gasp.

ASTARION

Gets so flirty with you that you can hear his smooth voice even in your dreams. He gets very touchy too, clamming he needs your warmth, all he really wants is to touch you. Speaking of warmth, no where better to get it then when his cock is in your pussy and his mouth on your neck, sucking blood when he thrusts forward and no sooner or later. The pleasure you feel makes you taste all the more sweet.

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randoimago · 3 months

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How would Astarion, Gale, Karlach, and Shadowheart each go about apologizing to their significant other?

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart

Note(s): Idk why but the first thing that popped into my head was Astarion bringing you something he killed, like what cats do 😂 I am also assuming this is Spawn Astarion, Ascended Astarion would never apologize or if he does then it's hollow words (same with Shar Shadowheart).

Astarion

He acts pouty that you're upset with him before sighing and finding some wine or flowers or something nice and pretty as an apology gift. Not really trying to buy your acceptance, but it's nice to receive presents and he wants to flirt with you again after apologizing, making sure things can go back the way they were.

I mean, depending on why you're upset at him is how serious he takes the apology. If it was him making some comment about eating someone or being annoyed at a kid then he doesn't take the apology that serious.

But if it was him doing something that genuinely hurt you (emotionally, he'd be devastated if he ever harmed you physically) then he'll absolutely be very apologetic towards you.

Gale

Sulks if you're upset at him. But he knows that every healthy relationship has its arguments so he hopes that he didn't completely ruin things between you two.

Depending on if you're ready to talk to him or not, he might hover with a book and start reading a quote from it about being sorry.

Of course, he'll tell you it himself, but he wants to first make sure he has your attention first. And he doesn't want to seem desperate and pushy for your forgiveness which is why he tries to be subtle at first.

Karlach

Very pouty if she upset you. Before she apologizes to you, she's probably beating herself up first. But then once she's do scolding herself, she'll go to you and ask if you're both okay. Doesn't matter the severity of what she did to upset you, she's immediately asking if your relationship is still okay.

Assuming she can touch you without burning you alive, she'll want to pull you into the biggest hug. But only if you let her! If you've decided that you don't forgive her yet or still need space then she'll understand and will sulk in the corner until you're okay.

If you're touch adverse then she'll want to give you some wildflowers she found instead, but only if you're ready to accept her apology.

Shadowheart

I think it also depends on the severity when it comes to Shadowheart too. She'll still apologize, but it might be more halfhearted depending on the reason why she's apologizing. She apologizes either way, but rather she learns from it is another story.

But if she sees how upset it made you then she does act like a bit of a kicked puppy. She'll apologize to you and ask if you're both okay.

Might try to make some small joke or tease you about something in hopes of livening the mood a bit. If that backfires then she's pouting more and apologizing more because she was hoping the joke would make you smile.

Taglist: @reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #shadowheart x reader #gale x reader #karlach x reader #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion x reader #bg3 gale x reader #bg3 karlach x reader #bg3 shadowheart x reader

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theladyismyshepard · 4 months

Text

Oath Breaker

Now this one is just me letting my love for the Paladin run wild and I can't get over the thought of throwing it all away for that special one that they love. Funnily enough, my first playthrough was Druid! If you reblog, tag what your first class was/will be

(How the party reacts to you, a Paladin, breaking your Oath for them)

Shadowheart –

You were born… well, you couldn’t really say where, as you hadn’t the faintest clue. You were an orphan living the life as an urchin in the Lower City streets of Baldur’s Gate, that much you were sure of. With your natural charisma and having a knack for persuasion, things could have turned out worse. That isn’t to say you aren’t a survivor, you might have called upon your sleight of hand once or twice. But there was something about you… You were an optimist. You drew people in with your personality, and before you knew it, you had your own makeshift family that you chose to be a part of.

You were always aware of the ones who were having it worse than yourself, you couldn’t help it, it was almost like a reflex. There were the inexperienced, the frailer, the innocent… Some would say you were softhearted, caring entirely too much about everyone else’s well being rather than your own, and honestly? You felt no need to deny or explain yourself. Not when your bleeding heart was content to surround itself with those needing your guidance. It was so nice to feel needed wasn’t it?

Until the joy was stripped when you found yourself losing it all, and the worst part was that you tried your hardest, gave everything you had, and it still wasn’t enough. You weren't enough. It was a day that started as any other would, though at some point you and your friends found yourselves in the sewers underneath the city. It was no grand battle, there were no honorable deeds… It was a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. There was a gang of rotten people that just wouldn’t accept your presence, yet refused to let you leave. One by one your comrades fell… You were the fighter, the protector here, not them… so why were you the only one left alive? It was a “lucky coincidence” that the scuffle was noisy enough to attract attention, though those were never your words.

You felt shame. The people you had come to care about, who looked up to you, had fallen at your feet and you could do nothing. You had all the courage in the world, all the compassion… One could argue that that might be the reason you lived, that maybe you were destined for something greater… You couldn’t see any reason past the survivor’s guilt. No one could convince you otherwise… at least not until the god Helm spoke directly to you one day when you were at your lowest, ready to give up your optimism

"Following the ideal of the knight in shining armour, you will act with honour and virtue to protect the weak and pursue the greater good.” You could feel the power that Helm was offering you, and it was too alluring – it was the power that you desperately needed to make a difference, to ward off the evil, to actually be able to protect.

It was an Oath that you lived by day in and day out. You grabbed outstretched hand after outstretched hand, offering your help to anyone and everyone in need, whether it be an extra blade in an unjust altercation, or a measly passing of judgment between two quarreling neighbors. What was once a reflex to help people was now an unsatiated devotion, an incessant demand. You had no purpose if there was no one to help. Your duty guided you straight to the nautiloid, and as your party grew bigger, you started to see that there might have been a reason for that. Was it to make amends for your last group of friends? Because the thought made you sick to your stomach… What if you failed just as you did last time?

You wouldn’t… As you gazed upon the crease between Shadowheart’s brow as she fretted over losing her own faith for your cause, for you, you decided that this woman right here was what you were living for. Not to protect the world from itself, not to solve every problem thrown your way, not to blindly follow an Oath, but to worship a cleric who had no one to worship herself. You would make her happy, even if that finally entailed the end of you.

She had the opportunity to have her parents back, and of course there was always a cruel catch involved. It was unfair, and while it teetered on the edge of blasphemous (you could feel it burning in your veins, Helm himself warning you off) you found yourself standing between Shadowheart and Shar’s massive form, needing to pass judgment, to intervene against this… this evil. The ultimatum of Shadowheart’s parents or the curse paining her hand was unethical, it was treacherous. It was also not your war to wage, and that was a direct message from Helm.

What could you possibly do? The only thing you’ve ever been good at was a good starting point. You lived by your Oath and you would die by it… and by betraying it all at once. You couldn’t help but to turn back and look at Shadowheart, she was all you ever had eyes for, and realization flickered across her eyes as she registered what you were trying to convey. You could see the fight building, her refusal on the tip of her tongue, but you beat her to it.

“Take me or fight me,” it was a demand met with incredulous laughter, but the fact you weren’t reduced to ashes on the spot relayed curiosity on her part, “Accept me in return for Shadowheart’s parents and the curse wounding her… I can’t accept a no,”

“How bold, paladin,” it was dripping with sarcastic disdain, “Not only will I take your Oath, but I’ll take your life and I’ll relish in the misery it brings your dear, heart… I can feel her agonizing heartbreak as we speak. This little display was delicious, and I thank you for that… If you both can satisfy me, I just might consider myself generous.”

You’re hardly aware of what comes next, not the raise of Shar’s hand, her magic visibly building, not the frantic pulling of Shadowheart’s hand on your arm, not when there was a growing emptiness swelling in your chest, threatening to bring you to your knees as you gasped on strangled breaths. Helm’s spirit of guidance left you behind to flounder in your mistake. You were no paladin of his, but you would be an Oath breaker for Shadowheart tenfold. But once was enough, and you’ll never stop paying for it.

Lae'zel –

You were born in a modest town outside of Wyrm’s Crossing and Rivingston, just far enough to prove ideal in terms of privacy without complete isolation. A town of basic essential– a town where everyone had their function. There was the blacksmith and her wife, the harvester and his family, the carpenter along with his wife and their gaggle of sons following in the trade, the medicinal/healer woman and her two children… what you lacked were soldiers

It was an easy slaughter with hardly anything to even pillage, but what the raiders lacked in treasures, they took in captives. That included you. It wasn’t long before you’ve come to decide that killing you would have been a mercy, and even more immediate was your swelling resentment and thirst for vengeance. It would be years of praying for the strength to fight this oppression before the patron god Ilmater heard your pleas, and came to you with a contract, an Oath… “You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

The entire enslavement stronghold fell by your hand, and your hand alone. It was your right to pass this judgment, and it was your duty to carry out justice with no mercy for your wicked captors. And so was your entire moral code as you traveled far and wide, seeking out evil and persecution and the vengeance that draws with it, calling you here and there until the very day you found yourself infected and surrounded by a mismatched group of people that you’ve come to care for.

A particular githyanki had caught your interest early on, what with her prowess in battle, and her loyalty to her people above even her own life. It was respectable and you admired her for her strength. Both with wits and with blade. You trusted her for her word once you’ve come to see the sentiment returned. There was no one else you would trust to take to battle with over her.

But it was more than that… You’ve seen and heard how the githyanki were portrayed, by Shadowheart no less… Lae’zel’s people suffered persecution from the people of your world for their “brute hostility”... Lae’zel gets a gleam of pride in her eye anytime she hears that�� and at first you wondered if it was just your Oath that drew you closer to the soldier, a need to defend, a need to lash out against any hatred sent her direction

No… that wasn’t it… Not when you stood there, mouth agape as your eyes darted back and forth from Lae’zel to Orpheus. You gulped as her hand subconsciously slid into your pocket, the jar containing the Astral Tadpole finding shelter in your palm. A sacrifice had to be made now that the Emperor was no longer on your side and you needed the powers of a Mind Flayer on your side if you even considered taking on the Netherbrain. You broke into a sweat at what this would entail.

You would give up your form for something so much greater that it couldn’t even be contained in your body. It was an almighty power that you were not meant to have, and as a Paladin, a quest for such power would break your very oath, even if your intentions were good, even if your intentions were out of spite to destroy the brain. But you knew what your intentions were and they were purely selfish: You intended to spare Lae’zel the impossible task of watching the Prince of her people give up his newfound freedom for another Hell. Not because of your oath of vengeance, but because you loved her.

“I…” This was the first time you’ve ever seen Lae’zel speechless and wide-eyed, at a complete loss. “You…”

“Mla’ghir… Liberator… That is what you shall be known to our people as… May my will be done,” Orpheus decreed, bowing to you, and from behind him you can still she Lae’zel struggling, her mouth opening and closing, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but you could’ve sworn you had seen a glossy film over her eyes that was pooling on her lower eyelids.

“You have a duty to your people, Lae’zel… just like I had a duty to anyone and everyone who crossed my path… before I met you. Now, I have my own personal oath to you, and I will do anything to-”

If it was a kiss you were seeking, you succeeded. One hand grabbed the back of your neck and the other wound around your back, pulling you in firmly against her lips. It was a bittersweet display, knowing this was the last that you were to receive. It was worth it, and you would break your oath a million times over if it meant Lae'zel could finally have the opportunity to let go of her own vengeance. Taking a step back while uncorking the bottle before you could lose your nerve, you accept the Astral Tadpolr, and miss the look of terror and worry Lae'zel had for you as she weakly reached out before thinking better of it.

Karlach –

You were born in a lonesome village nestled discreetly in the thick forests of the Wilderness. Hard to access seeing as there’s only one way in and one way out, and the entrance is hidden behind a waterfall. A true town of nature, it is literally taken over and incorporated into the wild. You grew up with the whispers of the trees and the understanding of animals. Everything had a balance, and you could tell when all was right with the world in terms of energy and flow.

Which also entailed being able to pinpoint the moment nature felt off, like there was a wound torn asunder and darkness and misery was oozing out and taking over. Being as in- tune with nature as you were, it physically pained you to feel the death of the earth around you. Living in a place so far away from the destruction of life was good for you– Until you could feel the presence of people making their exploration in a place already explored. There was hardly anything you could do to protect the sanctity of the land, not when you could physically feel the wars waging upon them, the resources that were being exploited…

Your prayers for the lands were answered one day by Mielikki, the goddess of forests and the creatures who live within, and with her she brought an Oath granting unspeakable powers that could benefit in healing, healing yourself, healing your friends, healing the world… “You fight on the side of light in the cosmic struggle against darkness to preserve the sanctity of life and the beauty of nature.”

No other words would ever ring more true to you as you live your life healing the hurt that mankind leaves behind on the land. You still hold onto hope that there are more people like you who care about the wellbeing of nature and the life within. You keep that hope alive in hopes that it would spark and set ablaze, leaving a lasting impression on people rather than nature.

You found yourself lounged comfortably along the wooden raft that you yourself had crafted. The wood was chipping and stained with a permanent moss, evidence of its wear-and-tear during its time in service. The only sounds that could be heard were the gentle lapping of the babbling river, the rustling of leaves as wildlife took its course through the surrounding wilderness, and your breathing… you didn’t even see the nautiloid coming

You didn’t even see Karlach coming. Well… that’s neither here nor there… But her fiery nature and her bright soul was breathtaking, and you found yourself in awe of the force of her very being. Her smile, her mannerisms, her passion… she burns brighter than anyone or anything you’ve ever known– and it was only a matter of time before she burnt out. It was a cruel reality that you avoided, but you knew, deep down, past your heart, but to your Oath…

Karlach’s soul was the purest you’ve felt in ages, but there was no heart that sustained that. It was an infernal engine that roared the very fires of Hell, and it was a bomb that was set to go off at any given moment. It was nature’s way, and your Oath was telling you to accept it, that all cycles come and go and that this was no different, no matter the sorrowful circumstances. But you couldn’t accept the snuffing of the brightest life that the world, Heavens, or Hells could offer, that would be the cruelest crime against humanity.

That was what you told yourself. But at the end of it all was when you lost your faith. You held not an ounce of hope in your heart in the depths of your deepest despair: watching her grunt in agony when she would usually be cheering and whooping in celebration. The very life and soul of the party– the one who, without even knowing it, had you changing your entire devotion. There was only one you intended to worship and it wasn’t Mother Earth… Her name was Karlach, and you could feel your own light fading with her own as you felt your love being plucked away. You would drain every sea, tear apart every mountain if it meant sparing her life.

And… you were letting it? You could have pushed harder for her to return to Avernus, just long enough to find a more permanent cure, or another upgrade at least… But the heartbreak on her face and the constant insistences of getting trapped and never returning were too much to press further. You would never ask her to do something she was dead set against, and you never would have asked her to give up her body and soul for the advantage over the Netherbrain by becoming a Mind Flayer. You rush forward, ignoring her initial attempts to push you away so as to not get burned, and wrap your arms around her body despite your skin burning and peeling. This was it, you could feel her trembling and you were afraid… so afraid that you crumbled and your facade broke when it really mattered. You begged her to stay, to return to Avernus because you in fact needed her alive more than you needed anything else alive on the planet.

Would one call you selfish for allowing her to lose her body and soul anyway for a less noble cause? Would they call you thoughtful for taking her interests to heart? As Karlach faded with a lovely smile reserved only for you along with a wink, you felt the oncoming tendrils of nothingness take a hold of where the light in your heart used to be. There was nothing now, no love, no guidance… What would Karlach think of you for breaking your Oath of the Ancients by losing yourself in losing her?

Astarion –

You were born to a life of nobility within Baldur’s Gate, a life that supplied little struggle, though you knew of it when you could see the hopeless flocking the streets. There are times that your guilty conscience calls you to act, to give what you could, but you also had an understanding that what was yours was yours, and it wouldn’t remain so if you gave it all away. Some might call you generous with the people.

Others might try to kill you. How appreciative. You like to think it was for the run-of-the-mill nobility ransom, maybe come to kidnap you by chance? You couldn’t understand why they were pulling their knives ou-

And then you were gasping awake, suddenly lying on the ground in a pool of blood– your blood… The servants had found your dead body, and your family could afford to stock up almost indefinitely on Scrolls of Revivify. Your brain was foggy as you struggled to comprehend the series of events that resulted in you being resurrected. It was a weird cult who had a hit out on you and you had never felt so helpless. When you had learned the news that all of your possessions had been stolen along with your life, you needed vengeance.

So you dedicated your time to following the goddess of avarice and hatred, Tiamat in hopes of gaining her favor. After a while, you thought she had no use of you, maybe undeserving of her power, but one day she finally came to you.

“Your fury is still there, but you are not so blinded… I have use for all, but to think of yourself as unworthy– well… That makes it so much sweeter. You will set aside even your own purity to right wrongs and deliver justice to those who have committed the most grievous sins.”

And deliver it you shall. You could taste the putrid burn of unserved justice. You could feel the fiery anger of revenge from the wronged as if it were your very own, and nothing was sweeter on your lips than delivering the final sentence after it itched at your skin for the longest. Overall, it was a satisfying life consisting of butting into other people’s business and having god-gifted powers to judge them for it. One could get used to it, and you did… until you were infected and scrambling just like the party you were traveling all over Faerun with.

The vampire had charisma about himself, his words dripping with honey as much as blood as you spoke to him and learned more about his backstory. The more you got to know, the more your hunger for vengeance grew into a gnawing at your gut. You would personally see to Cazador’s death as retribution but you wouldn’t dream to see it carried out by your own hand– No, for once, it felt even better to watch Astarion unleash centuries of torment and anguish. He was on his knees, and while that was usually a beautiful sight that you’ve come to… come, gravity pulled you to your own knees as you pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“It’s okay, my love, it’s over… you are free,” You cradle his face in your hands, and you watch as he flinches before easing into your touch despite himself.

“I feel… nothing,” admitted Astarion hollowly, truthfully… You could see all the spunky attitude keeping him his charming self just gone from his body as he sagged forward. “His connection, his influence, gone… As is my way to walk freely in the sun when this is over.”

In the haste of battle, it was easier to acknowledge that Cazador’s special spawns were his energy source. He couldn’t complete the ritual, ergo, he could not absorb Astarion’s soul, leaving him nothing but a pile of ash. That also meant that Astarion himself lost the opportunity to Ascend in Cazador’s place and accept unlimited power that a lot of people dream of, yourself included. Seeing his wide range of emotion, you couldn’t help but to feel a bitter taste in your mouth. You took part in stopping his Ascension…

So you would do anything to give yourself and the man you love the chance at that power again, even if it meant turning your back on the greater good. What greater power was there than the control of the Netherbrain? As the party traveled far and wide, you had encountered several illithid tadpoles on your journey. A majority of the group did not favor the power that they had to bring, and trusted you to agree. That was why you shared the tadpoles in secret with Astarion the moment he showed interest.

The power coursing through the two of you along with the help of the Emperor… it was no challenge to overpower the brain and take control of it, granting unmeasurable powers the likes of which no one had wielded before. Even the Gods would quake in your wake… Even Tiamat herself could not harm you for taking on such power that would deem you as an Oath Breaker. You pull Astarion into a kiss, and allow every racing thought to flow outward and into your connection. You feel his sly smirk against your lips along with a gentle nick of his right fang.

“Darling, you’re so vile I could eat you right up… I adore anyone who would break an Oath for me… whether it was their own or someone else’s,”

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months

Text

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

#bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #astarion x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x reader #lae'zel x reader #writing tag #waah. i love them all

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justporo · 4 months

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Hear me out! Tav brought a statue of Astarion to the camp but Astarion does not recognize himself in it and does not understand why their leader spent 5000 gold on a random stone man. Meanwhile the party is betting on how long it will take Astarion to guess whose statue it is.

5000 Gold

"He's not... he's not gonna figure it out anytime soon, is he?"

"Sshhh!"

Shadowheart shushed Karlach with an angry frown and a single finger thrown to her lips.

The two of them - along with your other companions observed the scene unfolding on the other side of the camp. Right where a delivery had just been made - and quite an uncommon one.

A giant stone statue, depicting... Astarion - and almost fully nude at that.

You couldn't resist when the offer had been made to you at the carnival at the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. 5000 gold had felt like nothing for the punchline you had been about to make with having a statue be made of the one companion that couldn't remember what he himself looked like.

And Astarion, upon discovering Tav's most recent purchase, had started to throw a temper tantrum immediately, almost fainting when he had heard the paid sum out of your mouth.

The vampire had worked himself into an outright frenzy, screaming, hissing, gesticulating towards the statue, then back to you, then to the skies. Meanwhile all you could do anymore was biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting into the biggest laughing fit of your life.

The rest of the group kept observing from a safe distance.

"Istik", Lae'zel mumbled under her breath. But even the sober githyanki could barely hide a smile.

Shadowheart shushed her as well. Wyll had just been silently shaking his head for the last couple of minutes. Shadowheart had started taking bets on how long it would take the oblivious vampire to realise the cruel trick that was being played on him. Karlach, being way too optimistic, had already lost some coin to the cleric with their estimate of a few minutes.

Only Gale who had been busy this far with some of his thousand books had missed the whole spectacle so far. Just now had the wizard realised that something was going down. He eyed the fighting trio of you Astarion and stone Astarion and then the group of bystanders, trying to decipher the situation. When he couldn't make any logical sense of any of it he went over to the small onlooking group. "I appear to have missed something? What is-"

Shadowheart hissed at him to shut up, causing Gale to flinch back with a hurt facial expression. Wyll though wasn't impressed by the cleric and enlightened his friend: "It looks like our clever leader Tav has taken up the offer of getting a stone statue of Astarion for a bargain of 5000 gold without telling anyone. And now we're betting how long it's going to take him to realise it's him."

Shadowheart stared the Blade of Frontiers down. Wyll merely shrugged his shoulders. He'd faced more fearsome creatures than the cleric aplenty.

Gale just blinked several times at him, letting the words settle. Then a grin spread on the wizard's face. "I bet 100 gold it's gonna take him at least until the end of the day."

Shadowheart's furious expression lightened noticeably and she stretched out her hand to Gale. They shook on the bet. Then everyone turned back to the two Astarion's and you to continue watching the scene.

"Why in the nine hells would you get a statue of some random guy - he isn't that... Well, he is quite handsome!" Astarion yelled at you while you had to hide your face in your hands desperately trying to pull yourself together.

The vampire didn't let up: "Well, if only it had been me, then I would have understood, darling, who wouldn't want that as a piece of decor, but-"

That was it, you broke. Hysterical laughter started shaking you, up to the point where you doubled over and could barely breathe between laughing and crying from laughing.

The vampire meanwhile went through the whole spectrum of emotions known under the sun in a matter of seconds. Angered, confused, flustered. And then finally something in the elf’s brain clicked together.

He stared at the statue then at you, back to the statue and suddenly his hands wandered over his own face as if to grasp it's lines and shapes.

"You...," he started and stopped. Through your tears you were sure you could see the vampire's pointy ears turn bright pink. "That IS me!"

You were barely able to nod as another fit of laughter shook you. Astarion’s mouth opened several times but no sound came out. A rare occasion to the see the sassy rogue so void of words.

Meanwhile, a bunch of moans could be heard from the other side of camp where Shadowheart collected her won gold from the others.)

"Why would you-", Astarion began and his expression was barely readable while your laughter slowly died down and you were able to kneel back on your feet.

"Didn't you say it yourself? He's quite handsome, isn't he? Now you get to see for yourself again."

Astarion pointed an angry finger at you about to throw another fit but then his eyes fell on the statue again. Now with knowing what it was and what it meant it shut him up immediately.

He took a few steps closer to get a better look. His anger at you momentarily forgotten as he gazed upon his own image for the first time in over 200 years.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #shadowheart #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #karlach #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #drabble

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neckromantics · 3 months

Text

Spoiling Astarion?

Bringing him back little things that remind you of him whenever he stays back at camp just so he knows you're still thinking of him while you're apart.

Astarion being so used to receiving little gifts from your travels that when you arrive back at camp, he's standing by your tent with his palm outstretched just waiting to see what you've brought him this time. The giddy little grin that's plastered on his face when you fork over the shiniest object you could get your paws on. All varying in degrees of monetary value, for sure, but all with a unique story of their own.

A couple of old coins from an ancient crypt. The entrance of which you'd all stumbled upon when Karlach punched a wall of a cave in victory after a particularly tough battle, only to come back with a handful of bones and cobwebs. The look of shock on her face when the entire wall came crumbling down on the group was enough to have you in stitches, entirely too weak from laughter to stand. You laid beneath the rubble for so long that Gale had assumed you developed a concussion and needed rescuing.

The PRETTIEST, crystal goblet that you'd stolen right from under a rich lady's nose under the guise that you were testing her drink for poison. You'd downed her ale in two gulps the second you exited the building. Was in the middle of patting yourself on the back for being oh-so cunning when you nearly fell on your ass. It was a sick, twisted coincidence that her ale did, in fact, turn out to be poisoned. But, at least you had a spare antidote on you that you gulped down before Shadowheart could find you in such a state. (And make fun of you, no doubt.)

A set of handmade jewelry– not stolen this time, if you can believe it. Wyll had pointed out the small shop to you while the two of you were out shopping for supplies. Said something about how it might be a good idea to pick out a new pair of socks since you'd been complaining about how holey yours had become after so much running around. Which was a good idea, truly– but the second you'd set eyes on the shop window, you knew what you wanted. A matching necklace and earring set, lovingly crafted with silver chain, so very delicate. So very understated that one could almost miss it among the rest of the more garish examples that sat alongside. Three, very small, opalescent stones shone so pretty at you beneath the sunlight that you could hardly look away. You would have given the shopkeep your left kidney just to see Astarion wearing them, but thankfully, it wasn't necessary. (You became so feral in your excitement to hear the very reasonable price that you nearly threw your entire gold pouch at the clerk's head and then kissed him on the mouth.)

You're an eager one. Astarion never has to wait– always receives his gifts before you can so much as slip your travel pack off of your shoulders. He goes real quiet for a moment. Has this far away look while gazing down at whatever it is, turning it over in his palm a couple of times to really study it.

The two of you sit together while you go through the rest of the day's spoils, and he listens while you tell him all about how you found today's special little trinket. Insists you spare no details in how you acquired it. (Unless any of those details are boring, dear. Do spare him of those.)

You know that there have to be some things he enjoys more than others. You know that there has to be some things you've given him that he outright dislikes. There have been a few occasions where he'd poked fun at you for bringing back something silly. Like "The roundest pebble you'd ever seen, Astarion, look at it roll!" or "This drawing of the two of you that you'd doodled on a stray sheet of parchment when you couldn't find anything else no matter how hard you tried!". BUT he has never refused anything you've chosen to bring back for him.

He thinks it's rather sweet that you've dedicated yourself to proving you still think of him when he stays behind. Wonders why you are the way that you are. Sort of loves you to death for it. Definitely does NOT invest in a bag of holding for everything once it all begins to stack up.

Definitely doesn't insist on you taking one half of the jewelry set so you always have a little piece of one another on you at all times. That would be ridiculous. (Earrings or necklace, darling?)

Sequel?

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #karlach cliffgate #shadowheart

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fandom-go-round · 4 months

Note

bg3 companions + their reactions to finding out they knocked up fem tav? 👀 (for the ladies we can say they're trans or it's magic)

I wrote my boy first because he’s the best, can you guess who it is? Hint: He’s my first romance. No guess for you lovely requestor because you know too much LOL

Also I’m ignoring cannon endings here because we want to end up happy with babies. No angst here, begone!

Warnings: Implied Sex, Implied Sexual Situations, Pregnant Tav, Babies, Pregnancy Thing (Morning Sickness)

Astarion:

At first, he thinks that you’re joking. Vampires can’t have children after all, that’s a pretty basic fact. When you’re insistent, part of him wants to accuse you of cheating, as much as it pains him. That’s a part of him still tainted by Cazador and he muffles it as best he can. Astarion is going to insist you go to a healer together; if you’re not pregnant, something must be going on you need help with. When Shadowheart confirms you’re with child, he’s at a loss. Astarion doesn’t know what to say, truly.

After the initial shock, he goes on the hunt for anything and everything about human-vampire babies. The records are hard to find and some are locked far, far away but he finds them all. He can be very persuasive after all. It’s in one of these books that he figures out how you two made a baby; he’s going to be very careful taking your blood from now on. Speaking of, Astarion will refuse to drink from you while you pregnant, no ifs ands or buts. This is a firm boundary for him, even if you smell more and more delicious the farther along you get.

The pregnancy is hard and Astarion is afraid he’s going to lose you. The birth is especially gruesome and it’s only because of Shadowheart and Halsin that you’re alive. He wants to resent the baby for how you suffered but he can’t, they’re just too perfect. He’s afraid of getting too close, of tainting this little thing but you refuse to let him be apart. The first time he holds your child he weeps and it’s over. Astarion is always going to struggle with his emotions and feelings about being a father but never about how much he loves them. Also, he’s completely in charge of their wardrobe; you’re going to have the best-looking baby in the entire city hands down.

Gale:

Gale was always on the fence about kids. Sure they’re cute but they’re also loud and he struggles to take care of himself, let alone a little squishy creature. That doesn’t mean he’s upset when you tell him you’re pregnant, not at all. He’s just doing furious calculations in his mind and it looks like he’s crashed. Give his brain a moment to reset and he’ll give you a large grin and lean down to kiss you. Tara is the first person the two of you tell and she’s excited, vowing to be the baby’s protector. Gale loves her even more which is quite the feat. His mother is next and she immediately starts offering help. He just can’t get over how perfect his family is, it feels like a dream sometimes.

He takes a very technical approach to your pregnancy, like everything. Gale is reading all of the baby books and using all of the tracking charts he can get his hands on. He even goes to talk to midwives, wanting an expert opinion. It’s very sweet of him but you have to remind him that all babies grow at their own pace. He just wants to be the best dad he can and for him, that means more information. It is funny to watch him change a diaper for the first time but he never backs down from a challenge! Maybe he can use magic…?

He’s a mess when you actually go into labor. Gale swore he would be with you the entire time and then passed out in the final moments. He wakes up to a healthy baby and immediately starts crying. He enjoys being a dad, especially teaching your child new things. Your kid is going to have a huge curious streak that Gale will feed with vigor. He doesn’t consciously want your kid to be a wizard but would be overjoyed to have more in common with them.

Wyll:

Wyll is over the moon, as surprised as he is. Kids are something that he’s always wanted to have eventually and with you, his favorite person? What could go wrong? Of course, he’ll hear out your concerns if you have any and can have difficult conversations around pregnancy and child birth. One benefit of being a noble is that he has resources to help; whatever you want will be yours. He’s nervous to tell his dad but once the older man starts to tear up, he knows that he’s made a good choice. Wyll wants his family to be whole and happy.

He’s a chronic hoverer, as cute and frustrating as that is. Even in the early stages of pregnancy Wyll will try to do everything for you; moving a trunk? He’s got that, don’t strain yourself. Trying to cook dinner? Let him help you love. Be firm that you can do things yourself and he’ll back off. Just know that when you turn to ask him for help he’ll be waiting in the wings to be your hero. He’s also a pro at helping you figure out cravings. Wyll won’t complain if you wake him up in the middle of the night to go get something from the kitchen. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and rocking together; you being in his arms is his favorite thing.

He’s a trooper during the birth, being there the entire time. It takes a long time and he does worry but he encourages you and is your personal cheerleader. He can’t stop smiling after the baby is born, tracing their cheeks and forehead. As much as it would be funny to say Wyll struggles with being a dad, he really doesn’t. He loves your child so much, you’re surprised he never brought up kids in the first place. He is very much the definition of doting father but don’t let that fool you, he takes no disrespect, especially towards you. You’re the ruler of the house and Wyll is your backup. He’s the perfect mix of fun and strict dad. Now if he can convince you to have others…

Karlach:

Karlach is over the moon when you find our you’re pregnant. She had noticed you felt off and encouraged you to go to the doctor. Neither of you were expecting the baby news, as silly as it sounds. That doesn’t stop her form immediately lifting you up with a loud ‘whoop!’ and spinning your around the room. She loves babies! She loves you! This is going to be great.

She insists on redoing a room just for the baby. Even if their crib is going to be in your room for the first few months, Karlach wants your kid to have their own space. She paints the walls, builds all the furniture, everything. She asks for you opinion on decorations and doesn’t do anything without checking with you first but it’s her labor of love. It’s also her project for when she gets anxious thinking about the future. What is something goes wrong with her heart? What if something is wrong with the baby? What is the birth is too much for you? All of these thoughts get washed away in making the baby’s room perfect and then she goes to talk to you.

Karlach helps as much as she can during the birth aka you kick her (lovingly) into the hall to go grab towels so she stops hovering. When she gets back the baby is almost here and there’s no time to panic, just watch with wide eyes. She thinks you’re even more of a badass for going through all that and asks to hold the baby fist. Karlach cries holding them; they’re so cute and small and they’re the perfect mix of the two of you. She’s defiantly going to be the fun mom and there will be moments where it feels like you have two kids to scold. She takes safety very seriously, however, and is the first to lecture about stranger danger. Your kid will never feel unloved or unsafe, Karlach swears it on her life. This is her family now and no one else can have them.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel struggles with the news that you’re having a baby. Partly because she never thought that she could have kids and the other part because she’s terrified about being a mom. She wasn’t raised in a traditional Faerunian way; no where on the continent can be compared to being raised Gith. She needs time to process on her own and it’ll be a few days before she comes back ready to talk. Take her concerns seriously and, if you truly want to keep the baby, she’ll raise them with you. She loves you after all.

It takes her a bit to understand all the changes your body is going through. It’s horrifying and amazing to watch your stomach swell and she loves gently cradling your bump as it grows. She doesn’t know what to do about the crying, except when someone else makes you cry. Then it’s easy: she wants to kill them. That usually makes you laugh and you’re able to talk her out of bodily harm. You do have some nice shop discounts now. Lae’el is very much your guard dog and she fulfills her position with pride.

The entire birthing process just shows Lae’zel that you’re the strongest person she knows. She’s completely impressed by how you handle everything and has a new respect for moms everywhere. She still thinks it’s gross and inefficient but badass all the same. Lae’zel is a strict mom but soft in her own way. She’s still learning to be kind to herself and the world around her. Your child will never feel the brunt of her frustration or confusion; they will, however, be able to swing a sword much too young. She beams with pride the first time your child beheads a training dummy and you know, deep deep down, that the two of them going to be trouble.

Shadowheart:

She starts to notice the signs before you do, honestly. At first it’s little things; you’re tired quicker, you’re more sensitive to certain smells. The big one is that you start to get morning sickness, frequently. Shadowheart finally sits you down after the fifth morning in a row over a bucket and checks you over. You’re pregnant all right, not doubt there. She’s going to be as surprised as you; you were both good about protection. Surprise baby!

She’s fairly neutral about kids. She never thought that she would have any, serving Shar, but now there’s a little more appeal to them. The pooping and crying she could live without but the idea of there being someone made up of the two of you? Shadowheart likes the idea more than she would admit out loud. She starts researching pregnancy healing the midwifery right away; she doesn’t have a lot of expertise with babies but she is a healer.

Shadowheart insists on delivering your baby herself. She wants to be a part of this and while you’re going to be doing the hard part, she wants to support you. If you have an issue, she will relent but has to be in the room. Your delivery is flawless and as she holds the bloody baby in her hands, she feels full. Of love and hope and excitement, all those emotions she once would have sworn off. For the first time since you’ve found out you’re pregnant, she’s excited to be a mom. She’s a strict but loving mom, teasing her kid and embarrassing them in public (just a little, like a cheek pinch). Shadowheart loves singing to your kids, something neither of you knew until now. Your house is full of love and laughter and singing, just perfect.

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