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cambion-companion · 8 months

Note

Here’s ya girl who has gone completely feral over astarion. He’s the babiest baby. Okay, here’s the prompt. My characterisation could be a bit (or a lot lol) off bc I haven’t played the game Y E T so feel free to change the things that seem OOC.

Established relationship, but the beginnings of it, on a mission to find a way for astarion to be in the sun again. Reader has given astarion time to work on his sexual trauma so they haven’t been having sex for some time. Reader is 100% ok w that. But they have a big argument over something (not related to sex) and astarion doesn’t know how to resolve the situation other than reverting back to his seductive artifice and using sex as a way to ensure his safety (in this case, emotional safety). Reader figures it out because they (or she) are not dumb. They reassure astarion and he lets himself be vulnerable but also, it turns out that astarion wants that sexual intimacy. But reader decides this will be all about astarion and making him feel good and loved. Body worship, astarion’s praise kink, just everything focused on astarion’s pleasure in a way he has never experienced and that makes him completely unravel once he comes. Not a subby reader, tho. You know me, I don’t do subby.

If this is too long of a prompt, just the sexy part will be ok. Thank you so much, i have such astarion brainrot DDDD:

I Want to Live

word count: 1700

gn!reader x Astarion | Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic | 18+ only

"I don't think we should use the tadpoles for anything, Astarion." You put your hands on your hips, glaring at the sulky Elf in front of you.

This tense conversation between the two of you had gone on far longer than you'd have liked. Astarion seemed insistent on using whatever advantage the Illithids had unintentionally given your party. Despite not yet knowing the implications of doing so.

Astarion's silver hair glinted in the firelight that warmed your back, his eyes shone like droplets of blood. "You might as well leave me alone, spoilsport." He waved an imperious hand in your direction, sneering at you in the way he knew would hurt you most. "Since you insist on being boring and unimaginative."

You ground your teeth. "I'm trying to keep us safe."

"And a fine job you're doing, my sweet." His lilting voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Why don't you ask Arabella how her parents are doing?" He paused, then feigned surprise. "Oh wait..."

Your eyes widened as a jolt of genuine pain lanced through your heart at his callous words. Astarion was aiming to do damage and, like always, he knew how to push your buttons.

Magic sparked at the end of your fingertips as you fought to control your rage. It was the lack of verbal response that alerted Astarion to the fact he might have pushed a little too far with you. His face almost looked regretful for a moment, or perhaps it was a trick of the firelight casting shadows across his features. You didn't gain much insight because of the tears blurring your vision as you quickly turned away and strode as far away from the vampire spawn as you could.

Shadowheart, who always seemed to overhear everything, cast a worried glance your direction before leveling a glare on Astarion who still watched after you with a blank look.

You sat yourself upon your bedroll before the campfire and listened to Volo squeakily tune his lute. Wyll and Gale were over by their tents chatting and Lae'zel sat on a boulder by the river sharpening her sword.

You had thought Astarion would understand and perhaps even agree with you, and the rest of the camp for that matter, that the parasites should not be utilized to gain control of other beings. It was convenient and downright useful, yes...but not worth an unknown cost.

You had thought...since that night when the two of you had become intimate...that he'd maybe come to care for you. But that jab about Arabella's parents, who you'd failed to save, only confirmed that the vampire did not have your best interests at heart.

Sighing, you moved your bedroll away from its usual place beside Astarion's and arranged it next to where Karlach slept. You could feel multiple pairs of eyes watching you move about but you didn't much care at the moment.

Karlach gave you a curious and concerned look as she came over and got comfortable for the night. "Are you alright? I could hear you and Astarion going at it...and not in the fun way."

You grunted and moved your body to the side so you could scrape out a rock that had been digging into your back. "It's fine. He's just an ass." You said these words loud enough for him to hear.

Karlach shrugged and nodded as if this were common knowledge. She gave you a jolting pat on the back before getting comfortable in her own bedroll.

As the breathing patterns of your companions slowly deepened in slumber, you could not find any rest. You tossed and turned as best you could in such primitive sleeping arrangements. You missed your bed back in Baldur's Gate above the taproom of the Shadowcat Claw, the familiar bustle of voices and a mug of ale in your belly lulling you to sleep. Out in this wilderness, with the thought of your argument with Astarion tugging at your thoughts...you had to get up.

As quietly as you could, you slid out of your bedroll and got to your feet. A quick observation of your companions told you they were all in a deep sleep. All except Lae'zel who sat on the boulder still, keeping silent watch. She nodded at you curtly as you passed and didn't ask any questions, for which you were grateful.

You crept through the foliage down to the place in the forest by the river where you and Astarion had had your midnight tryst. You could still feel his moonlight hair running through your fingers, his fangs on your neck as you arched it just for him. The trust...you thought you had at least earned a little bit of his trust.

"I thought I'd find you here." His voice was velvet, it shivered straight through your defenses to your heart.

"I wanted to be alone, Astarion." You tried to keep your own voice cool and collected, but you ached to hold him in your arms again.

Astarion had followed you from the campsite into the woods. He'd been fully aware of your restlessness, of course he had. He entered your line of sight now, looking very much like a cat stalking its prey. His ruby eyes were dark and trained on your face. "Come now, you're far too obvious for all this bluster. Do you not want to feel me again?" He gave you a crooked smile, showing his teeth. "A second taste, perhaps?"

You felt the hollowness of his words and saw the carefully arranged expression he wore like a mask. Beneath the facade you could make out the telltale twitch of a facial muscle, the tenseness of his eyes, indicating anxiety.

You sighed. "I thought we were passed these games."

"Games?" Astarion's tongue flicked out to wet his lips. "Games are all part of the fun, my dear. So good at getting the blood pumping."

You folded your arms. "I want an apology."

This tripped him up. For a moment the facade slipped, and he seemed genuinely taken aback. "Apologize?" Then he was back to his usual bluster. "Me? Apologize for what?"

"For having a go at me today. Bringing up Arabella's parents when you know how upset I am about it." Astarion made a noise as if to speak but you cut across him. "That was cruel, Astarion, and I deserve better from you."

"I didn't..." Astarion sighs heavily, his eyes glancing down to the ground then back at your face. "I apologize." The words seemed to pain him in some way. "I wanted to get a rise out of you, that's all. Now let's forget about that and have some fun."

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, saying nothing, simply watching his face lit in the silver moonlight. His unconvincing grin slowly slipped off his face, a troubled frown replacing it. The two of you looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, you spoke.

"You're testing how much I care for you, aren't you?" Your voice was soft, almost inaudible over the rippling stream.

Astarion seemed momentarily taken aback, he seemed to consider taking shelter once more behind his mask of pompous indifference. But then his shoulder's slumped slightly, the fists at his sides loosened. That was all the answer you needed.

You stepped forward and placed your hands around his, tugging him closer. He did not resist, his footfalls light as ever as he drew near. Close enough to feel his breath warm your lips.

"I care about you, Astarion." Your voice was still soft amidst the rustling leaves and sparkling water. "I discourage you from using the tadpole's powers because I couldn't bear to see your will overtaken by yet another monster."

Astarion was silent for a long time, his scarlet eyes turned silver as a moonbeam fell across his pallid face. When he spoke, his voice sounded strained. "What if it's too late for me? To be anything other than a monster? My only choice is which one." He laughs forcefully, bitterness twisting his mouth.

"I won't let that happen." You encircled him tenderly in a hug, pulling him to rest flush against your body. "We're in this...together."

"Together." The word was echoed back to you, his voice framing the syllables as if it were a foreign tongue.

You turned your face into him and kissed his neck softly, feeling his body tense in your arms and then slowly relax. You kept your lips against his skin, over where Cazador had sunk his fangs all those centuries ago.

Astarion's hands slowly slid up your hips to rest against your lower back as he held you close. Your lips caressed his neck, throat and trailed up to his jaw until you pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." You murmured.

You felt him tense again, not pushing you away, but his hands tightened on your back. "I..." Astarion hesitated. "I'm not quite ready to say those words back to you, my dear."

"I know." You felt no anger, no hurt. You accepted him however he wished to come to you, grateful for this rare moment of vulnerability beneath the stars.

You pushed him back gently until his back made contact with the base of a large sycamore tree. A huff of air left his lungs, quickly claimed by your mouth as you kissed him hungrily this time. Your hands made quick work of his clothing and Astarion became eager to help the process along.

"Vixen." He murmured and you laughed against his lips, your tongues teasing each other.

"You're beautiful, Astarion." You held his face in your hands and kissed his mouth lightly, not allowing him to turn away even as the compliment made his eyes search yours for hints of disingenuity. "I want nothing from you in return." You said firmly, reading his emotional turmoil through your shared Illithid connection. "This is just for you." You kissed his mouth, his cheek, his forehead. "To keep."

Astarion's head fell back to rest against the tree trunk as you continued lavishing affection upon him. He moaned your name softly to the night sky as you slowly sunk to your knees before him, the dirt and rocks digging unheeded against your knees. His fingers twisted in your hair and guided you to where he wanted you most.

"Good, my love." You praised him, your words causing his body to shake with increasing pleasure. "Show me."

The night was long and full of bliss. A genuine exchange of pleasure, without the previous facades and plays at affection. You felt the change as surely as he did, and when the others awoke in the morning it was to find your bedroll pulled back right next to where Astarion lay curled against you.

"You owe me five gold, Shadowheart." Gale mumbled.

#baldurs gate 3 fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #gale bg3 #shadowheart #bg3 fic #bg3 astarion x reader #astarion x tav #karlach #astarion romance #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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avocado-writing · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn crush admitting that the reason why they only talk a lot when they're comfortable with someone is because they know they won't be ignored, not acknowledged, interrupted, talked over, no one would listen, and no one cares? Sorry! I had a bad day 😞

give me a list of names, anon, and I’m going to go and enact some revenge for you ❤️

but for now the guys reacting to when their s/o confesses they aren’t comfortable talking around people they don’t know as they’re used to being ignored:

Astarion

jokes how he’ll go and maim or murder anyone who’s made you upset

(but? Maybe it’s not that much of a joke from the way he’s going for his dagger…)

encourages you to let your feelings out and complains along with you in agreement, reassuring you that he’s on your side

holds you close afterwards - even though he’s not the best at communicating how he feels, you know he’s there for you and wants you to be heard. he hears you.

Gale

my man is FLABBERGASTED

”well, as a wizard, I’ve always found everything you have to say rather interesting” (can’t help bringing that up lmao)

makes a concerted effort to make sure you know he’s listening when you talk (he always was anyway, but now he’s sure to show you how he’s hanging on every word)

reassures you that he loves you and talking to you is his favourite part of the day 💕

Wyll

reassures you so so much.

you have so many important and interesting things to say, and anyone who doesn’t see that is a fool

backs you up in every conversation

if anyone tries to talk over you he cuts in with a firm, “excuse me, I believe my partner was speaking?”

he will give you a gentle, kind touch to give you confidence when you’re speaking - a hand on the small of your back, or brushing his fingers against yours.

Halsin

understands your worry but tries to make you feel better about it

“so many people turn to you for guidance and leadership. they would not do that if you were not worth listening to, my heart.”

will give examples of times when your words made a deep and impactful change

reminds you that you are worth hearing. ❤️

Dammon

stands behind you and glares at people who try and talk over you. this usually makes them shut the fuck up lol

constant gentle reassurance from my man!!

if you’ve had a day where you feel like you’ve not been heard and it’s overwhelming, offers to let you hammer away at something at his forge until you feel better.

Rolan

immediate fury.

he’s the only one who gets to interrupt you!! And when he does it, it’s playful and silly!!! (In his mind anyway, my boy is too dense lmao)

casts silence on people who talk over you, then turns to you and goes, “as you were saying??”

Zevlor

tells you he treasures every word you say, and anyone who doesn’t is a fool.

loves it when you go on long rambling monologues about things because it brings him joy that you trust him so much.

lets you know that he could listen to you talk for the rest of his life, and hopes you’ll let him 💕

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

Text

Designated Lockpicker

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Inspired by this post

Saw this and I HAD to write something about it. It only took me until 11:45 to finish it but it's okay I'll suffer the consequences

Warnings: one swear word, reference to Astarion's past abuse, mention of a terrible texture, innuendos

Word Count: 1,219

Masterlist

AO3

You poke your head into the room. Dust motes float through the air, which reeks with musk and mold. You'd probably cover your nose and seek fresh air if this wasn't the millionth time you’d smelled it.

Your eyes scan along the walls, floor and shelves, searching for anything interesting. Food would be nice - Gale wouldn’t stop pestering you for ingredients to cook with. Bandages wouldn’t hurt either if it would ease Shadowheart’s workload every time you got into a minor scrape.

The room was rather sparse, but it looked like it may have been a study at some point. Books were scattered everywhere, chairs were tipped on their sides or had broken legs, a desk was angled oddly for its placement. Whoever lived here before, they must have left in a hurry. Which was excellent news. Maybe they left something behind.

From the other rooms of the building, you can hear your companions’ muffled voices. You can only make out one or two words as they speak. Karlach seemed to be talking to Astarion; Wyll and Gale were going back and forth further away. You couldn’t hear Shadowheart or Lae’zel, but this didn’t surprise you.

The floorboards creak and groan as you step into the study. Stray beams of light keep the gloom away, for the most part. You can almost imagine how lovely it once was.

You go to take a book off the shelf, but immediately draw your hand back when the binding squishes at the slightest pressure. You scowl in disgust and wipe your hand on your pants to remove the gross sensation. Unfortunately, your more learned companions would not be getting any new reading materials today.

Against the far wall, stationed behind the desk, was a dresser with a glass case on top. All the case had was scrolls, damp and turning green. Any information they may have held was gone.

You grab the handles of each drawer in turn, sliding open the dresser to reveal its contents. A vial of ink here, another useless scroll there - nothing exciting. Until you open the bottom drawer.

Poorly hidden under some loose paper was a chest. It appeared to be made of metal, hardly rusted despite its surroundings. For its size, you were shocked how heavy it was when you lifted it out and set it on the desk just behind you. The lock didn’t look too complicated. You had some spare lockpicks in your pack, you could easily grab one and get it open. You could.

Instead, you leave the chest where it is and step into the hall. You try to listen for your friends, again, but they seem to have done deeper within the establishment. So you do the next best thing: “Astarion?”

The shout travels down the building, and from one of the rooms pops out the vampire spawn. He seemed confused why you’d be calling him of all people. But the confusion is quickly masked with suave confidence as he sauntered down the hall to you. “Yes, dear?”

You smile sweetly at him. “I found a locked chest. Could you help me open it? Please?”

He smirks and taps a finger under your chin, getting you to tilt your head upward with just one motion. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He follows you back into the room. His nose scrunches with the smell of rotting books, but the look is gone as soon as he sees the chest. You round the desk and turn it around toward him. He can’t stop his smile as you rest your arms and chin on top, still fixing him with that darling look.

This had become a habit, to his mind, anyway. For you, this was an enrichment of sorts to provide Astarion with a sense of purpose. Late night talks had made it abundantly clear just how much he loved feeling useful. For two centuries he was used, his autonomy stolen from him for the sake of his master. But little tasks like this did not feel like an imbalance in power. He would open whatever lock you wished for the praise you showered on him alone, but you also ensured he got his pick of whatever was inside. He was being rewarded for his services, something that never happened before - nothing good, anyway - and you loved giving him his moment to shine.

He just assumed you couldn’t pick a lot to save your damn life.

“I’m beginning to think you just like watching me,” he teased. He produced a pick from his pocket and began working away at the lock. “Trying to learn my trade secrets, are we?"

You hummed, looking down at his hands as they moved together fluidly. He could do this in his sleep. “Never. I just love watching you work, that’s all.”

He chuckled. “Really now?” He lifts his attention from the lock to look at you, hands pausing in their ministrations. “And what is it about my work that you enjoy so much?”

You meet his gaze. He can only describe the look you give him as fond. Love seems to rest in your irises, gleaming back at him, on display for the whole world to see. “Your hands,” you answer, and while it was supposed to be part of your playful banter, you say it so genuinely. “You’re always so precise, like you just know exactly what needs to be done before you even start. It reminds me of your embroidery.”

“And here I thought it was for more depraved reasons.” It’s a deflection. He still isn’t used to being seen like this. Seen by you. He still thinks of the way you describe how his hair curls around his ears, and how his face wrinkles when he laughs. “I’m always happy to give you a hands-on lesson, my sweet. Just say the word.”

“And if I ask for you to teach me how to embroider?”

His devious smirk relaxed into a soft grin. He nods. “It would be my honor.”

Silence takes over as he returns to his work. It’s warm and welcoming, despite your surroundings. Basking in the quiet felt easy around him. He could be reading a book, and you’d slot yourself right next to him, and never was there an expectation for him to stop to entertain you. You just wanted to be around him. It meant more to him than you could ever know.

With a final turn of the pick, a faint click comes from the chest. He seems to puff up with the success, like an all-too-proud bird. He slips the pick back in his pocket and steps back as you round the desk. Instead of going straight for the chest, you cup his cheek in one hand and press a kiss to the other. His cheeks would be positively flushed if he had the blood for it.

“Thank you, Astarion,” you whisper against his skin, pressing another kiss to his cheek right after. He leans into the heat of your hand.

“It was my pleasure, darling.”

You pull away with a grin that could put the sun to shame. You turn to open the chest, eager to know what hides behind those metal walls, and he cannot stop admiring how perfectly a stray beam of light hits your skin.

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #pov second person #second person pov

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justporo · 8 months

Text

Astarion making use of his skills to help Wyll

Shamelessly using this for an original post because I like the idea too much! Spoilers ahead, be warned!

So, as this post imagined (and thanks for @daedriclys for tagging me):

What if Astarion just went "ahem, I'd actually like to take a look at this legal document, thank you very much!" and went to help Wyll with his contract by Mizora.

I'd love to see how Astarion would take the opportunity to do something good for someone else because personal growth and redemption. Also this fucking devil can eat shit, Astarion's tired of people being forced into slavery.

So he fiercly interrupts and demands that Wyll will have at least a day to review the contract and when Mizora agrees through gritted teeth, the party gets to work: Astarion admits that he might be a little rusty and that he was shit at his job back then, but he's dead set on making this one thing right. (Also we know he knows history, so I feel it's not hard to imagine him being a bit scholarly and enjoying to learn things and figure stuff out - also he is smart!)

So he drags the whole party to where he knows is a Law library in Baldur's Gate and tries to find out everything on these kinds of contracts. He goes over the contract again and again trying to find ways out for Wyll while everyone else has turned into his research assistants (Gale is obviously his lead researcher because that man knows his way around a library). ("No, Karlach, it's 'pacta sunt servanda', spelled p-a-c-t-ugh, you know what, please let someone help you with looking for it!")

They spend the whole 24 hours to work out the best possible solution and when Mizora comes back her jaw is on the floor because not only did her plan not work, Astarion got Wyll some compensation and a severance-package worked out and might even sue. Also Astarion reads out every single term and condition and exactly decodes why it is shitty and wrong and why the wording could have used some work, all in his sassy little tone - while Mizora is fuming, but she has to listen to it, because formalities will have it that way.

And Astarion might play it down afterwards for just liking the challenge but he's actually so happy he could actually use his specific knowledge to help someone - and kinda remedy some of his past wrongdoings.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #wyll #wyll ravengard #karlach #mizora

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tripleyeeet · 8 months

Text

IN UNFAIR HANDS WE'RE DEALT (9)

SUMMARY: With the battle of Moonrise quickly approaching, you and Astarion take a moment to yourselves.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,949

WARNINGS: Spoilers for Act 2 (henceforth there will be spoilers in all chapters here on out), angst, lots of hurt/a little comfort as a treat, descriptions of dissociation, mentions of death, untimely flirting probably.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter killed me so... be kind. :')

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

There’s an impending doom that hits your chest mid-conversation.

As you sit alongside your peers, discussing with Jaheira the plan of attack on Moonrise, you can feel the depths of your mind begin to drift. Slowly but surely, moving through the air to focus on Astarion’s face engrossed in the details of your infiltration. It makes you narrow your eyes in frustration. Seeing the interest in his own as she explains the designated route, marking down the paths she deems safer than others while he slowly nods his head.

You’re not sure why but seeing him like this —so invested in something you know will probably end in suffering, makes you sick to your stomach. As if, your body’s reacting to some sort of inevitable, internal prophecy that no one else can feel. All at once it takes over, erasing the previous hours of the day you once found enjoyment in. Coating such memories in a shadow of doubt that makes you wonder if this is the last time you’ll feel this. The pleasantries of being alive without consequence. The overwhelming sensation of warmth that blooms throughout your chest each time you look towards the pale-skinned elf.

As you sit there, half-listening to the exchange that goes around the table, there’s a feeling of selfishness that follows behind such thoughts. A sliver of fear that quickly takes over, forcing you to wonder what would happen if you were to pull Astarion aside and ask him not to go.

“So, we leave tonight.”

Unsurprisingly, it’s Wyll who furthers your anxieties. Bringing up the inevitable in such a casual way that, as he speaks, you find yourself turning to face him, watching unimpressed as he stares at the map splayed out in front of you, pressing a finger to your destination. On the parchment, it’s circled in red. Symbolically marked in a blood that’ll inevitably be split.

Swallowing hard, you turn back to Astarion not long after, catching his eye; causing his expression to shift from focused to curious, immediately offering you a direct line to his thoughts if you need it.

Without protest you take it, forcing back question after question until you settle on a single one, raising your brow in the process.

Are we sure this is a good idea?

Your tadpole wriggles in response. Ebbing and flowing behind the sclera of your eye as you listen to Astarion’s sigh rattle through your brain. No, but it’s the only idea we’ve got.

So far.

His lip twitches. You blink. Both of you refuse to break eye contact even when Lae’zel brings up the fact that you’re all incredibly low on supplies.

I’m sure our valiant Blade of Frontiers will come up with something.

You have to resist the urge to snort as you look away, allowing yourself to accept Astarion’s reassurance in the form of a badly timed joke and an ever-so-subtle tap to your thigh with his pinky. Both of which make your heart swell through the negativities that take up far too much space.

“Don’t worry about supplies.” Jaheira clicks her tongue, pulling back your attention with the wave of her hand. “Give us a list and we’ll gather everything up while you rest for your journey.”

It feels uncharacteristically kind of her to allow you more time to breathe. But it’s also something you don’t take for granted as you all disperse into your own spaces, attempting to ease your minds against the oncoming battle you’re less than certain you’ll return from.

Letting out a heavy breath after your exchange, you find yourself wandering through the camp, feeling Astarion’s presence trailing behind as you move up the stairs of the Inn, finding refuge in your previously shared room. Once there, you kick off your boots and fall carelessly onto the bed, hands quickly moving to your temples as you stare at the ceiling, feeling the space beside you shift.

“I’m not really in the mood for…”

Trailing off, you’re not sure what you’re meant to say. Or how you’re supposed to divert Astarion away from your racing thoughts after relying so heavily on him. Because at this rate, it’s been months of constant reassurance. Weeks of support, both reluctant and not. Days and hours and minutes of a growing tenderness that you’re undeniably thankful for, even now as you deny him your thoughts.

Since the beginning of your journey, he’s been there in some capacity, distracting you from the growing wound inside your head. Forcing back all the terrible aspects of your shared reality so that he can take over the front.

Somehow in such a short time frame, he’s managed to consume your every waking thought. Whenever you wake he’s the first thing you think of and before you sleep it’s not uncommon to find yourself dreaming of a life after all of this is over. A life where you’re together and happy and free of all the bullshit.

And it scares you if you’re honest. Terrifies you to the point of obsession, filling you with an endless sense of unease even as you crane your neck to share his gaze, realizing he’s still there, despite it all.

“For what?”

You motion between the two of you, frowning. Unsure how to explain the feeling in your gut that roughly creeps through your organs, laying waste. “Being cheered up.”

Despite your somewhat cryptic response, somehow his face is still as stone. An unwavering set of features that hold no obvious purpose as you stare at one another, unable to express anything other than exhaustion as he huffs at your defiance.

“You’re being rather obtrusive.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

As if by design, your hand slots perfectly against the plush of his cheek. Gently, you stroke your thumb against the coolness of his skin, forcing yourself to smile despite feeling like you’re falling apart, knowing this may be the last time you find yourself together.

“I don’t want to go. Not with you.”

Almost immediately he opens his mouth, ready to provide you with some sort of offended quip before he remembers that isn’t what you want. “I’m afraid we don’t have much of a choice, my love.”

“I wish we did.”

You can tell then that he understands what you’re saying. Based on the sombre expression that follows your words and the way he tugs at your waist, maneuvering you further into the bed. Quickly, it becomes apparent that your feelings are shared. That when he looks back at you, taking in your words, he’s not only aware of the implications but feels them himself.

“Another unfair hand dealt, I suppose.”

All you can do is snort in response, allowing your eyes to roll around, remembering the hold he has on you. How regardless of everything you’ve been through he’s managed to attach himself to you like a ship’s anchor; always keeping you steady. Grounding you at every rough turn through the waters of your journey.

“You know if you die I’m coming with you, right?”

It’s a rather terrible joke. One that has him immediately laughing before he realizes there’s a hint of truth hidden inside. Then he looks at you as if you’ve just ripped the already cold, dead heart right out of his chest. “You can’t be serious.”

“What if I am?”

He pauses for a moment, leaning back to get a good look at your face, picking apart each and every feature with narrowed eyes. “Well, firstly I’d question your sanity.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already.”

“Then I’d tell you it’s not worth it.”

“Says you.”

He doesn’t laugh or smile. Instead, he just continues to stare, stroking the fabric that covers your side in slow, unsteady motions. “Darling, I’m aware that dying alongside a lover after they’ve fallen is typically viewed as a romantic gesture but for the love of Gods if you even think of doing such a thing—”

You go to protest but he cuts you off, squeezing your side.

“—I’ll haunt you till the end of your days. And not in a sexy way.”

You raise your brow. “There’s a sexy way to haunt someone?”

In response he releases a humoured, heavy breath, shaking his head. “You know for someone who claims they don’t want to be cheered up you suddenly seem rather perky at the thought of me following you beyond the grave.”

It’s because it’s you, you want to say but instead, you just grin and kiss his cheek, allowing yourself to further indulge in his company. To feel his touch wrapped tightly around your frame as the seconds turn to minutes and the minutes quickly shift into hours that pass by like whitecaps crashing against the shoreline each time you take a breath.

By the end of it, you’re gasping for air. As time inches closer to your departure, there’s this breathlessness that coats your lungs, forcing you to suck the air Astarion breathes through shared kisses filled with desperation, knowing this is it. The calm before the storm. That final step before you’re at the edge of the cliff, staring down.

It distracts you enough to make the moments shared feel less real —foreign in a way that has you feeling completely separate from your body, wandering past the Inn, across the expanse of the cursed lands with cautious feet.

Beneath Astarion’s hands, you may be still as a board but somehow you’re also drifting through the darkness, following Jaheira’s path with tightened fingers that wrap around your blade, prompting Astarion to stop.

All at once his movements freeze, parting gently to showcase knitted brows that glance between you and your roughly placed hand.

Your hold is tighter than expected, your nails digging between the fabric of his shirt, pushing through to just barely hit his skin. Without hesitation it forces him to carefully reach over and grab them, coaxing them out of his arm to the space between, hushing you through the silence, knowing that your mind is loud.

“It’s going to be fine,” he tells you. Then his thumb runs along the course of your index finger, applying pressure to each joint as he moves up; becoming that anchor once again as you blink away the surrounding forest.

“You don’t know that, though.”

Fully encapsulating your hand, he digs his thumb into your palm, pressing away the stiffness that collects as you roll onto your back, staring at the ceiling. “True but that’s never stopped our blinding optimism before, has it?”

You snort. “You and I both know I’ve never been an optimist. That’s Karlach’s job.”

“Fair. But you’ve also never expressed any doubt before,” he points out.

That’s because the circumstances have changed, you think, feeling the creature behind your eye wriggle in response, igniting within you a sensation of dread. Of a weight carried throughout your stomach that has you swallowing hard and abruptly sitting up, realizing why.

It’s because you’ve grown used to what you have. To you and Astarion and the rest of your friends who patiently sit, waiting for the hour to strike. After years of abuse and solitude, you’ve managed to find the one thing you’ve never thought possible: a family of sorts to call your own. A party of confidants ready to roll into the gaping mouth of battle.

Standing up from the bed you feel your chest begin to tighten at such a discovery —both at the thought of gaining and losing such loved ones. Ultimately, it’s a bittersweet moment. One that has you fighting for air like before as you palm the sockets of your eyes and laugh.

“What the hells is wrong with you?”

It’s a question said without malicious intent. The kind that sounds snarky but that’s truly filled with a curiosity that forces Astarion to sit up from the bed, watching as you rub your face.

“I think I’m freaking out, a bit,” you admit, stifling back chuckles that half-catch in your throat as you turn back to face him. “I don’t want to lose anyone.”

You know then that he wants to lie to you and say that you won’t. That, as previously mentioned, everything’s going to be fine and that you’ll win the war without a scratch. Even though both of you know, that’s not the case. Not this time. Not with the growing size of the Absolute and the thickening plot.

Because at this point you know very little about the world revolving around you and yet, you’re still rushing into it. Taking the cards you’ve been dealt and slamming them on the table, hoping they’ll work out in your favour. It’s all you’ve ever done this entire journey. Every fight fought, every person met —all of it’s come at the cost of blind luck. Of a dice roll and prayer filled with a hope that you’ll survive the day to come.

Deep down, you know that none of you should’ve survived up to this point. One by one you should’ve died and moved on but somehow the Gods have smiled upon you enough to allow you a moment of peace to persist. To travel across the land, surviving every encounter. To experience a life you never thought possible.

To be with the man you think you might be in love with.

“If I don’t make it—“

The words catch in your throat just as Astarion’s jaw begins to shift. Carefully clenching his teeth as he grips the sheet beneath him, making you frown and wander back over.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

You move your hand into the space between you, raising your pinky into the air with narrowed eyes, watching him look at you with annoyance.

“A pinky swear?” Shaking his head, he looks up at you in disbelief, taking in the way you grin through the sadness and wiggle your finger, forcing him to look back down. “Darling, you can’t be serious.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You’re telling me you want me to swear on this delicate little thing that I won’t perish in the heat of battle?”

“Yes, was that not clear?”

“No, it was, I’m just—“

“Just swear on the damned pinky!”

He takes it instantly, the shock of your outburst causing his eyes to widen as you let out a breath of relief.

“Now swear that if either of us die, we don’t do something stupid.”

For a moment there’s a brief pause but then it’s quickly followed by Astarion clearing his throat. “Okay, but what exactly classifies as stupid? Because with such vague terminology the options seem a bit endless.”

Thinking about it for a moment, you ponder the options, allowing yourself time to really explore the results of your oncoming fight.

Because at this rate, anything could happen. You could all perish under the Absolute’s reign. Be taken into custody and forced into servitude like so many have. Hell, you could even survive this whole thing by the skin of your teeth. Lose a couple of limbs or something —truly anything is possible.

“Promise me that if I die you won’t.”

It’s a statement that hangs in the air for ages, collecting dust as both of you nervously stare, shifting and swallowing —forcing yourself to feel just how heavy this moment is.

Quicker than anticipated, it consumes your every thought, causing the tadpole to slither to your eye’s edge, prodding at the skin behind, knowing it’s Astarion calling to you. Asking for permission to see what’s on your mind as you blink away, focusing on the position of your hands as you allow him access to your thoughts.

It takes no time to offer them over. To show him all your wishes and doubts and ideal outcomes. Letting him explore, you allow yourself to take a breath and close your eyes, strengthening the hold you have on his finger as he wanders through your membrane.

I promise I won’t off myself in your honour.

Silently, you thank him, smiling to yourself as the thought is pushed towards him. Good, because I plan on haunting you. Sexily.

You hear him hum in amusement. “You’d make a very alluring phantom.”

“I would, wouldn’t I.”

“You’ve got the moan for it.”

Reaching to punch his chest, you open your eyes, scrunching up your face. “Shut up, you harlot.”

“Fine, but only if you promise to give me a proper burial if I die. One with lots of gifts. And flowers.”

“Flowers?” You raise your brow almost humorously before the image of a grave marked in his name appears.

It’s the last thing you want to think about. And immediately Astarion feels you start to shift, prompting him to pull you to his lap. “We’re going to be okay, love. You and I we’re, uh, we’re good —we make a good team.”

Team.

It’s a word that rattles through your head violently, wishing deep down it was something more. Something caring and intimate and perhaps tailored to better represent the feelings that he stirs within you.

Having experienced as much as you have together it’s obvious that you’re something else entirely. A friend or a partner —something more personal.

Sure, together you do make a fairly decent team. In battle, you flow alongside each other beautifully, anticipating every need or want without so much as a thought. And everywhere else, you’re just as fitting. So it’s no wonder he views you as such.

But still, there’s something missing in his words. A sentiment or belief that has you forcing out a smile, hoping that deep down he loves you all the same as your tadpole wriggles for him one last time, and the knock upon the door calls for you to leave.

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#in unfair hands we're dealt #a lover's folly #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #summer writes

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randoimago · 7 months

Note

Hi there! Could you please do headcanons on Astarion, Karlach, Will and Hanson with a significant other who tries to hide their accent, but it slips through every once in a while? Thank you!!

Hearing Their S/O's Accent That's Kept Secret

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Astarion, Karlack, Halsin, Wyll

Type of Request: Headcanons

Note(s): I'm assuming autocorrect got you with Wyll and Halsin (I was so confused as to who Hanson is in BG3 before my Int check succeeded and I realized who you meant)

Astarion

Kind of side eyes you a bit when he hears your little slip up. It definitely makes him curious. At first, he thought that maybe your mouth was running faster than your brain and that was why you said something a bit differently.

Except the more he listened, the more he could hear the subtle differences in your pronunciation, and it just causes a smug, knowing smile to cross his face. Doesn't bring it up right away since you all have your secrets.

You can bet that if he hears you scolding him or something because he teased or mentioned killing someone, then he'll gladly bring up your accent. He does a ridiculous mimicry of it and waits to see how you react to the fact he figured out the obvious secret you were trying to keep.

Astarion doesn't really care too much about your accent. It was fun for a bit trying to figure it out, but now he just wants to hear you talk to him in your normal voice. Let him hear all the different twangs or different phrases you use cause of the dialect. He won't tease you about it, much.

Halsin

Smiles a tad when he hears you pronounce something just a bit off. He can't help but step in and correct you, or at least say it the way that this region says it.

Rather it embarrasses you or not, Halsin does apologize for the correction, but he figured it'd be good to know how it's pronounced by others just so you know why everyone else is speaking silly.

He's also one that would like to hear you talk in your true tone but understands if you're hiding it for one reason or another. Just know that whenever you're comfortable to speak, that he'll always be happy to listen.

And if you'd like to hear how something is supposed to be pronounced (or typically pronounced in the region) then he'll tell you and smile a bit if you go on a tangent about why it's pronounced a certain way that makes no sense to you.

Karlach

She noticed something was a tad off with how you spoke and she'll pull you aside and ask about it. If you do tell her about your hidden accent, then she gets so excited because she knew your pronunciation was a bit different.

Finds it a tad silly to keep your accent secretive. I mean, you travel with her and she's loud and proud about the way she talks. And you also know Astarion, someone that speaks much differently from her. And then there's Lae'zel... Don't even get her started on Withers!

I mean, look, she gets being self-conscious and having those bad thoughts about yourself, she gets them a lot with how her heart is. But with the group of weirdos that you all are, she hopes that you can learn to be proud of how you speak and where you came from.

So, until you're proud to speak with your normal voice, she's going to be like a little kid and ask you how you pronounce different things. You can bet that she wants to hear you mimicking her voice in your cute accent. Doesn't even care the context or how you say it, she wants to hear you attempt to mimic her voice.

Wyll

He's pretty well traveled so when he hears your little slip up, he knows that it's less of a stumbling of words and more that it is a dialect. He does try to piece where it's from, but it'll take him a few more times of hearing your accent slip out.

When he does piece it together, he gets pretty excited and will approach you in camp about it. He just asks if you're from that specific area and that's the cause of the accent or because you had a parent that spoke that way. Either way, he's curious and wants to hear more of it.

Wyll has hid his birthright from many people, so he understands if you wanted to hide your accent for similar reasons. Or if it was just being embarrassed of how you talk. Either way, he won't pressure or force you to speak if it bothers you.

Does try to keep an ear out for more of your slip ups. Even if you're embarrassed about them, he enjoys getting the few glimpses of your accent as he can. Wyll is also always happy to hand out compliments to you with how your voice is a perfect melody to him.

#baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #astarion x reader #halsin x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader

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mashiraostail · 2 months

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omg please please imagine of gale reading to tav please!!

gallleeeeee supremacy

It hadn't been a particularly difficult day, mostly traveling, seeking out merchants, supplies, and information. That being said, when it was time to wind down for the day, you were glad for it. You spent hours sitting around the fire with everyone, exchanging stories and plans for what is to come. You sat next to Gale, you found yourself usually sitting next to Gale, even before the nights you began to share, you were always drawn to him.

He seemed to have an unending wealth of knowledge to share with you, you were happy to hear it all. Glad to hear about the heavy tomes he kept with him, to pour over complicated scrolls with him, to listen to his voice, to watch his mouth when he spoke.

You leaned into his shoulder, you saw a smile tug at his profile. Halsin always had the most bizarre stories, you could listen to him talk for hours about the trouble he seemed to find so easily especially in his youth. You feel Gale's nose brush against your hairline, then he stands as Halsin's story ends.

"Before I get wrapped up in another tale of yours, I'm going to rest a bit." Gale always seemed so grateful to share in things with the lot of you, despite the death sentence in his chest. "Perhaps I'll see you all again before the night is out."

There's a chorus of send offs, and thank yous for dinner and then Gale is gone. Karlach begins to talk about her own youth and the mischief she caused. You see a bit of light flickering from inside Gale's tent, you figure he must be reading. You'd never been a strong reader, you were always so focused on fighting, it was the skill you had chosen to master, just as Gale had chosen the Weave. You wondered how he got to reading, did he imagine the stories in his head like a movie, did he just take in the words and their meanings? What sorts of books did he like to read? Romance maybe? You were sure he did. You excuse yourself to go to him. No one seemed upset by this, though Wyll prods at you a bit as you go pinching your arm and making a teasing sort of noise. Karlach laughs too but gives him a shove.

"They're in love, come off it." She snorts when she says it, just as teasing as he had been. He looks at her and you feel a knowing sort thing tug at your stomach. You save him the embarrassment though and trot off with a pointed 'hmpf' at them.

You poke your way into Gales tent, when he looks up he seems delighted to see you.

"Hello, I didn't think you would follow me." He closes the book he was reading and sits up a bit more, "I'm glad you did." He gestures for you come closer, to sit.

"I was curious." You sit with him and look at the book he had discarded.

"Curious, for what?" He always looks so intently at you when you speak, it makes you flutter.

"What you were...reading." You push the hardcover with your fingertip and he perks up at your interest.

"This is a history book, I was interested in learning more about this land. I tend to not travel this way. Honestly I don't much leave Waterdeep at all, I have plenty to learn."

"I see." The candle beside him flickered and lit his face up, his hair casting long shadows across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. "Do you like to read history books the most?"

"Hm.." He ponders that, "no I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"I'm only curious." You continue to muddle around with the book, it looked heavy.

"Only curious? Would you like to read some? You probably know more about this area than I do though." He nudges the book towards you and you shake your head, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"No....thank you." You shake your head and pull away from the book as if it had burned you. "What sorts of books are your favorite to read?"

"My favorite?" He wonders, "I like to read...poetry collections."

You recall him saying he does enjoy to write, "I suppose that makes sense."

"Though I won't turn my nose up at a good mystery, or even a love story."

"Really?"

Gale smiles at you his earring catches the light when he tilts his head with it, "of course. I'll enjoy any book if it's written well enough. Are you very picky then?"

"Me?" You flush, "no..no I.." You look away, "no I don't really..read much."

"I have noticed you don't bring a book, yes. Though I figured given the perils of our situation it wouldn't be abnormal to cast aside your typical hobbies." Gale is sitting across from you, your knees are touching. You know deep down he wouldn't truly care. He was a limp noodle on the battle field and he was never embarrassed to show you that. "You could have one of mine." Gale offers, "whatever you like, or we can find something more to your tastes on the road." Despite this knowing you still feel humiliated.

"No I couldn't.." You shake your head, 'these are yours, you must care deeply for them to take them along with you."

"Oh no," Gale takes your hands as they had been waving him away, "a good book is meant to be shared by all, the best service I could do a book I care for is to share it. Books are meant to be read. Whatever you like, consider it yours."

"I..." You feel his palms against your finger tips, "that's very kind of you Gale." You glance at the pile of books he kept with him, they looked equally large and intimidating.

"It's nothing, I'm glad to have somebody to share them with. Especially when that somebody is you. You don't even need to ask, take and enjoy whatever you like."

"Well.." You look away from his easy gaze and to the corner of his tent. "The thing is...I...can't....well not to say I can't I just-"

"Can't? What?" Gale sounds confused, "read?" His eyebrows shoot up, "surely you can read."

"I can read!' You shove him a bit, "just...not very well." You feel your face burning with embarrassment.

"What does it mean to read well? To read at all is good." Gale laughs a bit, perhaps at your fluster, "really, it's nothing to be embraced about. You've spent your whole life fighting, probably dealing with threats just as large as this one, who has time to read?" He turns to sit beside you, he leans against the back of his tent where it's propped against a rock.

"It would take me months to read one of these big books. I haven't got a brain like you Gale." You shake your head and lay back beside him. He seems to preen at the praise. You look up at him and he looks to you stammers for a moment, then laughs. You feel his eyes scan your face, and the heat radiating off his body. There's a silent command in the air between your that draws you closer to each other.

"Lately, it feels like I haven't got much knocking around up here at all." He taps his temple, "what have you done to me?" You smile, and give a small huff of a laugh as his hands cover your cheeks, holding your face gently and drawing you nearer. You share a kiss that's warming and kind, your hands hold onto Gale's wrists.

"I wouldn't mind, if you kept the book and took your time with it." He offers as he noses against your cheek, "they would be months well spent."

"I'm worried it would overwhelm me." You flatten the wrinkles in his shirt over his chest, "so many pages. I'd feel like I have no choice but to rush."

"You've no need to rush." He kisses you again then trails his lips to your cheek, then your temple. You rest your hand on the side of his neck, thumbing occasionally at the ends of his hair.

"Why don't you...read to me?" You pull away to look up at him, "I would love to hear what you think as we go anyway, you're much better for these sorts of things."

"Really?" He perks up again, "I fear you'll tire of my voice."

"No," you laugh a bit, "no Gale, never. Pick one, something interesting."

He goes for a moment, rummaging around his things before producing a hardcover book, he sets it on your lap.

"This one I like, it's a mystery, but there's a love story in there as well, and plenty of wonderful twists from beginning to end." He taps the cover as he settles next to you again.

"I think that will do well then." You look up at him, "you know I could not imagine doing this with anyone else. Telling you a thing like that was actually...difficult for me. I could not imagine opening up to anyone else like this."

"I should hope so." Gale replied easily, flipping open the book, "have you had other wizard callers?" He raises an eyebrow at you, "because if you have might I strongly recommend you throw them all to fire. Wizards make terrible lovers and are hardly commendable companions."

"Really?" You laugh, looking up at him. He just nods.

"They'll almost certainly take advantage of you. Truly conniving they are. Their noses are always stuck in a book, they'll jump at any attention at all. Give them an inch, they take a mile."

"Mhm...that does sound right." You agree, thumbing at the corner of the hard cover.

"Yes, truly a wretched kind that lot, certainly never to be trusted even at the worst of times."

"And what about you?" You lean against him, resting your head against him and pulling your legs up to your chest. "Would you take advantage of me? Are you to be trusted?"

"Oh," He sputters, "who, me?" He puts a hand on his chest, looking almost offended but his grin gave him away, "no not me, me so deeply devoted to you? Do you truly think so little of me?"

You snort and turn into his arm, "you're right. Are you going to read or just flirt with me all night?"

He laughs back at you, "come on then." His arm comes around your back and you peel open the book. He starts reading, his voice is quiet, as if you weren't the only two people in the room and he was trying to keep this story a secret.

It's a good story, or what you hear of it is, Gale interjects with a few anecdotes here and there but they only help the story along for you. You even interject with a few questions or shocked remarks here and there.

"No! How could he do that to her?" You cut Gale off with an offended gasp, "she loved him!"

"Wretched lot, Wizards." He taps the book laughing, "see I told you."

"You did..." You settle back into place against him. He makes it through a good deal of the first few chapters before you start to doze off.

"Your eyelids are looking particularly heavy." You feel his lips against your hairline when he says it, "are you falling asleep? Have I bored you so much?"

"No!" You try to muster the energy to sound offended, "it's good, I like it so far. Its just laying like this makes me doze off." You turn into his side, "keep going."

He hums, maybe he's considering a teasing remark about reading you to sleep, he must elect against it because he rests his chin against the crown of your head and then continues to read to you. He reads until you've fallen completely asleep, by then he's feeling heavy himself.

You vaguely sense him shifting you around to lay down, but you don't stir much, just settle into him once again.

#gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #bauldrs gate 3 x reader #gale dekarios

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madwomansapologist · 26 days

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Could I request a one shot where Karlach, Rolan, and Zevlor finding out that human Tav is surprisingly similar to them despite being quite different?

For Karlach, she's outgoing & boisterous while Tav is shy & quiet. But Tav told Karlach she appreciates her kindness considering what she has went through as she can understand how hard it is & to remain hopeful even during the darkest times since Tav needs to be the one leading them & stay strong for all of them. She also mentioned she has a similar problem that she's touch starved but her family isn't so she never got to hug or kiss her family so she offered to squeeze Karlach as hard as she can while hugging her.

For Rolan, he's prickly & harsh while she's polite & soft spoken. Tav told Rolan she can understand why he's so protective of his siblings because Tav lost her family when she was too young to save them from her burning home. She also understands how it feels to not be good enough so she keeps trying to help to be as useful as she can to others to compensate her flaws & weaknesses although she does want to help people.

For Zevlor, he's stern & intimidating while Tav looks harmless & approachable. She told Zevlor that she's in a similar position as she never wanted to be a leader as she never thought she's meant to be one but she admits it was her decision & it didn't help that she felt that it's best she leads because she's the only one who would make such choices & they unexpectedly listened to her despite her inexperience. Unlike him where he didn't have much of a choice due to having experience. She also understands wanting a quiet life without judgement as she was discriminated by her fellow humans but life doesn't work that way.

so different, and yet so similar

Navigation | More Tiefs4Life | AO3

synopsis: Don't matter how different you're from them, there is still little things that connect you two. Kindred spirits, even if it doesn't look like.

warnings: nothing.

note: thanks for your request, hope you like it! maybe it's because english is not my first language but i think the expression "touch starved" is so pathetic. please stop creating new nouns, focus on pronouns because y'all have such a little ammount of them 🙏🥺

Karlach

For Karlach, you where so put together. Everything was in the right place, every movement was the one you needed, every word had a purpose. You led the party with caution, always aware of the dangers lurking by.

No music would ever matter without a listener. What is dancer without a watcher? A book is just paper until someone reads it. Some people need to performe, and some people need to observe. And while Karlach burns brighter than the sun, you watch the sparks flying.

So completely different. In situations Karlach yells, you shut. While she runs, you stand still. When people talk, you are way more comfortable just listening. And still, you both are so similar.

Karlach knows how fierceless you can become to make sure your party will keep on enduring. She sees how, even when you have doubts and fears, you shut them down so you can lead. You are strong, and when you're not you pretend to.

So timid, yet so loudly brave. Karlach likes all those sides of you.

Upon learning about how cold your family was, a certain grief took over her heart. She always thought nobility had good, easy lifes. And it's mostly true. She just wished it was yours and Wyll's case too. She would rather you both acting superior than knowing how young you two were when your families discarded you like trash.

"You just wait, soldier. I gonna hug you so fucking hard your bones will turn into dust."

Rolan

You're one prone to whisper. That was the very first thing about you Rolan hated. What a mask you chose for yourself. To always pretend to be sweet, polite, caring. To always be the fucking hero.

And that made things even harder for him after Cal and Lia were captured. You chose to ignore his snark comments, try to stop him from drinking, to say you're sorry. It made Rolan look like he was wrong. Like he was the Big Bad Tiefling turning the Sweet Adventure's life into hell.

And yet, you didn't use that against him. You never did. All you wanted was for him to stop being so angry at himself. To not treat himself as if he was weak, or less deserving of being alive.

You told him about your family. About how you lost them. "That's what fault looks like," you told him. "You did nothing wrong."

You have really high standarts to think you did something wrong. To think you had to carry not only the burden of grief but of despair. You save people. Constantly. Even when they don't want you to save them. Even when it costs too much for you. If you're not good enough, who is?

It was way harder to hate you after that.

"Oh, shut up. As if you were nothing but perfect."

Zevlor

Everyday there was a moment when you were sure that was it, you were about to go crazy. Looks like you were always trying to stop someone from ending up dead. No eternal darkness for you, no suicide mission also, you can kill your enslaver but that's it, don't fall for your urges, please don't try to kill someone while they're sleeping.

For Zevlor, it was alluring. You, so sweet and caring, leading some of the most troubled people he ever meet. He wasn't sure how you got yourself into that position, but he was glad you did. You saved his kin, after all.

He wasn't expecting for you to defend him at the ilithid colony. If you knew everything he did, or what he didn't, than you were the best person to judge him. You're leading you group through darkness, all of you still alive, so why couldn't he?

Instead of judging, you accept him. You told Zevlor he did his best. That you more than anyone knew how tempting it was to stop fighting. That you more than anyone knew how tempting it was to surrender.

"You should've hate me. You should've want me dead. Another debt I never will be able to pay you for."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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rainydaymiscellaneous · 2 months

Text

Until the End, My Love (Astarion x Reader)

Warning: this literally might be the saddest piece of fiction I’ve written and it includes death and grief.

The battle of Ketheric would change everyone’s life. You had given so much for this group of misfits. Loved them all deeply as a dysfunctional family. But Astarion.

Gods you loved that man to the stars and back. You knew the day before, what was going to happen. You sat on your favorite spot near the lake as Withers approached.

“Withers. I know you cannot tell me my death. But can you answer if I’ll die tomorrow?” You asked the creature. Withers hadn’t seen much good in humanity. However he saw the good in you. How pure and unconditional your love was.

“I cannot speak of death.” He said.

You looked at the creature. You could see it in his eyes. “Then do what humans do. Answer without words.” You said softly. He paused, knowing this wouldn’t make a difference.

He nodded yes to your question. You seemed strangely at peace with his answer. “Does anyone else?” You asked.

“Only the one you target.” He admitted.

You nodded. Your life and Ketheric would be taken. You got up, thanking Withers for his honesty and sat at a desk in the ruined home at camp and began writing. To everyone. One for Gale, one for Astarion, one for Wyll, one for Karlach, one for Lae’zel, one for Shadowheart, one for Halsin, and even one for Jaheira.

Astarion walked over as you slid the letters in the desk. “Writing?” He asked. You nodded. “We’re doing this. Aren’t we?” He asked.

“Yes..” You said.

“Well whatever happens, I’m by your side my love. Until the end,” he said. You wanted to tell him that the end would be sooner than he thought. But to break his heart like that would be too cruel, especially since the wound of Cazador’s intent behind his scars was too fresh.

“Astarion?” You asked softly.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Do you fear death?” You asked.

Such an odd question that you asked so sincerely.

“Uhm. Well, no. I know what death is like. When you turn into a vampire, you’re dead. It’s like a warm blanket. Of course when you become a vampire though, you do feel like the warm blanket is suddenly yanked off of you.” He explained.

“So it’s comforting to you?” You asked.

“In a way, I guess.” He shrugged. “Why? Have another philosophical conversation with Withers?” He joked. You let out a small smile but it seemed like you weren’t there all the way.

“In a way.” Was the small answer given to him.

“Why are you worried about that, don’t you regenerate?” He asked. You nodded.

“I mean, I do. But it takes years.” You said. Astarion kissed your forehead.

“Gods forbid something happens to you, I’d wait a million if it meant I’d see you again.” He said softly.

You hugged him close to you that night, listening to his murmuring in his sleep. The next morning before everyone was up, you put the letters into everyone’s bags carefully.

Swords clashed, body after body fell until everyone stood in the area just before Ketheric. Everyone seemed so tired so you offered a brief rest. The black shadows of the land felt so heavy as you looked around at your companions. You pulled Wyll aside, asking for your final favor.

“When it seems like everything is about to crash down, take Astarion and run.” You told your friend. He looked confused.

“What about you?” He asked.

“I will be fine.” You said. He frowned feeling as if he hadn’t been told everything. “Y/n-“

“Please. Promise me.” You begged. Wyll could tell this was important.

So he simply nodded and whispered “okay. Okay I promise.” you hugged him. It felt more than a friend hug. More like a “something bad is about to happen and I am scared” hug. So he hugged back.

As the battle raged and the illithid colony was revealed you kept Wyll uneasy. You trekked deep into the depths of the colony, freeing people of their pods and allowing them to escape.

“One last act of kindness.” You thought. “One more before death.”

As the skeleton of death looked you in the eyes, you drew your sword. You felt the chill of death and gave Wyll that look. Instantly he understood everything. You knew this was the end. He shook as he yanked Astarion back, grabbing Karlach’s arm.

They thrashed, Karlach not understanding until she saw the tears on your face and a mouthing of “Thank you” to Wyll. Astarion dropped his blades screaming for Wyll to stop.

“What the fuck soldier!?” Karlach yelled. Then she saw you. The power they’d knew would be lethal. He dragged them through the strange fleshy door and shoved them through it, landing next to them. You seemed so adamant about making sure it stayed open before you entered. Now Wyll knew why.

“What the hell are you doing Y/N IS STILL IN THERE!” Astarion yelled.

“I promised her.” Wyll said with a defeated expression. Astarion looked at the man upset and then as the door as he constantly smacked it, trying to get it to open.

Halsin, Jaheira and Gale came running over. “What’s going on?” Gale asked.

“It’s Y/n- she’s fucking in there with Ketheric!” Astarion said.

“What!? Why are you all out here?!” Jaheira asked.

“We were in there and Wyll dragged us out!” Karlach said.

“Why the hells would you do that?!” Gale asked. Wyll looked at him with the most mentally exhausted look he had ever seen.

“She made me promise.” Wyll said, his lips trembling as he spoke. Halsin looked at the door with a solemn expression.

“She is going to use her power.” Halsin said. Everyone knew that your powers bordered the strength of Gale’s when unleashed. They had seen only a fraction of it when they unleashed hell on the goblin camp. You went comatose for days, nearly dying if it weren’t for Halsin.

Lae’zel, Shadowheart and a few Harpers came down.

“Where’s Y/n?” Shadowheart asked.

“In there with Ketheric.” Gale breathed out.

“Gods damn this bloody door!” Astarion screamed, punching it repeatedly.

A loud bang emitted, the earth shaking under everyone’s feet as they felt the aftershocks of what you done. The door finally opened, everyone sprinting inside. Aylin stood bloodied over you, her hands shaking.

“She-she freed me right before-“ was all she could get out. You laid on the ground, your eyes glazed over as Astarion sprinted over, holding you.

“No. No- no- Don’t do this to me- don’t you dare do this-“ he said shaking you. Not a stir. Not a response.

Time felt frozen. Still in itself as Astarion shook you. He let out a haunting screaming sob, clutching you close to his body as Wyll dropped to his knees.

If he had just ignored you, maybe you’d still be here. Maybe you’d be savoring the taste of victory with your friends.

Shadowheart couldn’t stop thinking about your respect. Granted you followed Selûne, you always admired Shadowheart for being so devout to Shar. You even went as far as to stop and make camp once you realized you unintentionally stumbled into the Gauntlet of Shar so Shadowheart could see it herself.

Lae’zel thought back to your kindness to her. The unwavering kindness she experienced when you didn’t judge her for being Githyanki. You made her this ridiculous friendship bracelet that she hated to her very core. Yet still kept it wrapped around the hilt of her blade.

Wyll’s mind kept replaying on repeat the lengths you went through just to keep him safe. Not once did you judge him for making a deal with a devil. Not once did you call him a foolish child for making that choice.

Gale kept reminding himself how much you loved to learn. The ticking time bombs, you called yourself and Gale when referring to the magic you both held. You always kept your curiosity and your wit about you, making you adored like a little sister to him.

Karlach. Gods. The pain she was feeling was unfathomable. The way you went to great and dangerous lengths to fix her engine without hesitation. The friendship, the best friend she had made from drinking together late into the night, the best friend she made from joking on the road together, the woman she loved like family was on the ground.

Jaheira hadn’t known you long. But from the look on everyone’s faces she could tell your death was like a meteor hitting earth, causing the worst catastrophic damage she had seen. She remembered the loyalty. The way you didn’t hesitate downing that stupid wine she dosed with the truth telling herb once you found out what it was, just so she’d trust you.

Halsin kept thinking if he had just found a way to block those fucking powers, maybe just maybe you’d still be standing. He was never one for anger, never one to waste emotion in such a way. And yet he felt it. Towards Ketheric who was dead across from you. And towards himself, for not blocking your power when he had the chance.

But Astarion. Gods. Astarion.

He had suffered so much. He couldn’t remember spaces of his life due to his long life. But he remembered every moment with you. The moment he held a blade to your neck and you didn’t even flinch, to the moment he admitted that he loved you more than life itself, he remembered it all.

This should’ve been a victory. This should have been everyone screaming and laughing about how they beat the immortal idiot Ketheric into the ground. Instead heads were bowed, tears were falling and his throat was hoarse from screaming.

“You stupid stubborn girl” he kept thinking. “Come back to me my stupid idiot. Come back.”

As they dragged your body through the portal, Isobel rushed over with a smile that quickly faltered when she saw the body in her arms. A hand flew to her mouth and Zelvor’s eyes went wide. Your final act of kindness was letting him live after being captured. After the selfish sacrifice he made.

Everyone stood at camp, Isobel stepping forward as she read pages from a hymn of Selûne. Halsin laid you in a canoe, your sword in your arms as the tiefling children laid flowers next to you. Not one eye had no tears that day. Astarion pressed one last kiss to your cold skin.

They pushed the canoe off the shore, firing an arrow of flame. The canoe slowly lit, the smoke hanging over the shadowy lake. Astarion seemed so numb now. So tired. So done with it all. He wanted to be in the canoe with you, going into eternal rest by your side.

Lae’zel drew her blade, raising it in respect. Wyll followed, along with Karlach. The mages and clerics took knees, Astarion kneeling where the canoe left shore with his head bowed. Everyone was quiet, even Aylin the daughter of Selûne, the goddess of light had nothing to say.

Then… the sunlight came.

It emerged over the mountains slowly, almost going unnoticed until Gale felt the heat of a summer’s day on his skin and opened his eyes. He dropped his staff, shocked as he looked up. The sound of his staff made others look up seeing the sunrise.

“She brought us light.” Aylin whispered in shock. Astarion looked up at the sun, closing his eyes as tears flooded down his cheeks.

Everyone gathered around camp, sitting at their packs and it was so quiet. Silence was once desired by many of them because of the annoying chatter and laughter late into the night. But this was something they craved more than anything.

“Guys!” Karlach said. Everyone looked at her as she held up an envelope. “Y/n wrote a letter!” She said. Astarion was confused as Wyll looked at his pack.

“I’ve got one too.” He realized.

“So do I!” Shadowheart gasped.

Everyone dug around their packs before reading each of their own. As each one finished, they moved closer to one another, hugging their friends.

Astarion sat still reading his quietly in his tent.

“Astarion, my love

I know you hate cliches but I will say, the ‘if you’re reading this, I’m dead trope’ is rather interesting.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes but continued.

“I love you so much my love. You mean everything to me. It’s funny really. How I spent most of my life focused on other things I didn’t even realize when I fell in love.

I enjoyed our late night talks of poetry (though even as your lover I will say some of your opinions are pretentious)” again, he scoffed. “I enjoyed your banter, I enjoyed being held by you. Even in these wretched shadows, I found safety in your arms.

Take care of Scratch for me. I know you might not like him but he’s a good boy. And make sure he has playdates with Wallace, he sees Scratch as his big brother.

I don’t want you to fret over this. I’m not gone forever. Just for now. I promise in my next life, I will find you. I love you so much, I would walk to the edges of the earth to find your love once again.

Until the end, my love.

-Y/n.”

All of the companions stood together at the campfire, pouring one out for their fallen friend. Even as the battle of the Absolute came, everyone had justice on their minds for the one they lost.

It was expected for everyone to go their separate ways, especially after the whole tadpole conundrum was finally solved. Instead, all of them stuck together. Even Halsin, who craved nature stayed. Astarion didn’t Ascend, instead, with the help of his friends they killed Cazador and freed his brothers and sisters.

They moved only in the night now, seeing as the tadpole was the only thing granting him the ability to walk in the sun. Truth be told, he couldn’t see the sun anymore without being reminded of his love.

Years passed, everyone sat in a tavern, discussing the next bounty on their list to cross off. They were all talking when suddenly and without warning, Astarion stood up, knocking over a mug of ale.

“Aye! Watch it-“

Wyll’s gaze followed Astarion’s and he stood up as well. Everyone followed their gaze to the woman who seemed almost ethereal in beauty as she smiled.

“Miss me?”

#astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion x oc #astarion #angst

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lovelybrooke · 4 months

Note

I could listen to you talking about bg3 for ever tbf

Karlach would be pretty slow to be Yandere i think, first cause she cant touch reader without burning them

But i think that after she is Yandere she would be the most protective, I mean, Reader is pretty weak and even tho she would train us I think she would like more to protect us

Wyll and Karlach trying to protect us while Gayle want to have us only for him would be pretty funny

Since I've met most of the main companions, I'll detail the order I think each character would become yandere.

1st: Gale

I've kinda mentioned this in another post, but Gale gives off someone who desperately wants to take care of someone and have someone take care of him. I've heard bits and pieces of his story from just being in the fandom, and it's just the vide he gives off in my opinion. When it comes to modern-day reader, you find yourself gravitating towards him since he might be the only one who can help get you home. Gale immediately takes advantage of this, and spends time teaching you magic under the guise of wanting to make sure you can protect yourself. In reality, he wants to keep you to himself. He only gets worse as he realizes the others feel exactly the same way, and don't really appreciate him hoarding you away like he does.

2nd: Wyll

Wyll gives off major caregiver vibes. He spends his time training children and treats everyone with kindness. He just seems like such a nice guy, which is why I think he immediately starts to pity you when he joins your party. You're very clearly scared and confused, so it's not surprising when he starts to help you around camp and in battle. He doesn't judge or doubt your story, but deep down he does find it a bit strange, at least in the beginning. But he doesn't tell this to you, since you get so happy when you talk about home, and because he gets to comfort you when you get homesick. Wyll's kindness eventually starts to morph into something darker the more you spend time with them. He becomes possessive and intensely overprotective, even suggesting you don't engage in battle at all in fear of seeing you hurt. Like I mentioned, he's a caregiver, so he sews you clothing up (at least until a certain vampire comes into the mix), he makes your meals, and tends to your wounds. You don't really notice a change however, since Wyll is amazing at hiding it

3rd: Halsin

Halsin is very kind, but also very stoic and serious some times. I find him personally very similar to Wyll, just a little bit more himbo-ish. While I haven't officially requited him yet, I do see him as someone who's not very shy about his affections. Like Wyll, he likes to take care of you, taking care of your wounds when you come back to camp, teaching you about this world that you seemed so confused by. He sensed this kindness in you, but also this extreme vulnerability that he knew could be manipulated if you weren't careful. And so, he became your protector. Like Gale, he believes he's the only person capable of keeping you safe. He's also very open about his affections, staying close to you at all times, openly expressing his care and adoration towards you. However, at the same time, he isn't afraid to call out others on their behavior, especially when it concerns your safety.

4th: Shadowheart

I sometimes get sorta tsundere (I hate that word but I can't think of anything else) vibes from Shadowheart. Like Astarion gets compared to a cat a lot but I definitely think she is a lot like one two. She, along with Astarion and Lae'zel don't believe your story about coming from another world, at least in the beginning. She doesn't trust you for a while, and honestly believes you're making everything up in order to gain their trust. I don't know much about her story, but Shadowheart is very distrusting, and so I think it would take her awhile to finally warm up to you. It isn't until the others are finally expressing their feelings that she thinks you might not be as bad as she made you out to be. She slowly starts to get close to you, even though it does take a lot of work. Her feelings for you are subtle, and she's to embarrassed to express them openly like Wyll or Halsin, but she has no problem with protecting you or defending you, at least once she's convinced you aren't going to kill her.

5th: Karlach

I've discussed in another post that Karlach would take a while to get close to you since she can't physically touch you. This doesn't mean she doesn't care for you, it's just that it's much harder to express it like the others. I also think that Karlach doesn't realize her feelings are deep and personally until much, much later. She truly believes her feelings for you are just pride since you're so strong and brave, and that it couldn't be anything more. However, she's sorely mistaken when she starts to feel herself heat with jealously when she sees you with anyone else, taking, eating, training, it doesn't matter. It makes her crave intimacy with you, and it makes her extremely disappointed that she can't actually get close to you. Eventually, she does realize her feelings, and she tries to express them in ways that won't result in injury, waiting for the day where she can finally have you in her arms forever.

6th: Astarion

I know a lot about Astarion, since I do love him so much, so I do think it would take him a while for him to truly love someone. He's a lot like Shadowheart, where he doesn't believe a word about your story, and he spends a lot of time poking fun at you. He truly just can't wrap his head around it, and believes you must be playing tricks. He's not judging you, don't get him wrong. But he won't fall for your tricks so easily like the others. A part of him doesn't want to get attached, because if by chance what you're saying is true, then you're eventually going to go home, and he'll never see you again. When feelings do start to blossom in him, he does what he does best, and he pretends like nothing changed. He doesn't show adoration or care, at least not in ways you notice at first. He'll sew up your clothing, keeping them much longer than needed for such a small tear. He'll offer to brush your hair, and if you offer yourself up for him to bite, he treats you with too much care, care that you don't tend to treat a snack. He doesn't want to admit his feelings, because he's afraid, but a part of him is happy that the others feel just as strongly for you, because it means a better chance at you staying with him.

7th: Lae'zel

It was difficult for me to figure out where Lae'zel would be, but I do think it would taker her the longest. She's standoffish and distrusting, she doesn't care much for others. When she finds you on the ship, dazed and confused, she understood your emotions. But when you mutter and whisper about being from another world, she starts to think you were more effected by the mind flayer then she though. She openly expresses distain for you, assuming you must have memory loss from your time one the ship. She attempts to steer you away from Gale, believing he only feeds into your delusions. You are their leader, you must be strong. Honestly, Lae'zel is the biggest reason you become so cold and standoffish towards everyone, since you start to feel like you're never going to find away home. Pressure starts to build on you, and it becomes to much. Lae'zel won't admit it, but she feels bad. She caused such a drastic shift in you, and she feels remorse. Her feelings for you are subtle, almost like they aren't even there, since they come from a place a guilt. She protects you, keeps you safe, and promises you to help you find a way home, even if she knows she can't keep that promise.

---

A/n: I know there are other companions, but I really only wanted to include the main ones, since that's just easier. Please feel free to request bg3 stuff.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #yandere baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader

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brabblesblog · 4 months

Text

Dancing with your ghost

As the final struggle with the Absolute approaches, The Vampire Ascendant can feel his consort slowly becoming more distant.

"He remembers bedding her every single night after the ascension, desperately trying to use what he knew best to regain what was lost, even though he wasn't exactly sure what it was." (Chapter 9)

This is a small character study I made in preparation for chapter 15 of "Whither is thy beloved gone?"

Smut, with a heavy dose of angst. Can be read as a one-shot.

The title and inspiration for this piece comes from this song. I highly recommend listening to it.

Read on AO3.

Masterlist.

Ban closes the door to their room, readjusting her sleeping tunic. She silently makes her way to the communal area, finding a plush chair by the fireplace to sit in.

What a day.

The Wyrm had not been the salvation they were hoping for. Frankly, she didn’t know what to expect, but an undead dragon with a bone to pick with the Emperor was definitely not on the list.

Astarion, of course, had taken everything in stride.

Ban closes her eyes, recalling what happened earlier in the night.

“-exciting, don’t you think, pet?”

His voice, low and sultry as he stands behind her, undoing her armor. The usual nightly routine: undressing her, bathing her, and then fucking her, his hands fisting in her hair and his cock slamming inside her, again and again and again.

“Ban.”

She hears the last of her armor dropping unceremoniously onto the floor. He’s irritated. She moves to face him, and he cups her cheek.

Astarion stares into her eyes, boring into them, willing himself to see something there that isn’t just emptiness for once.

“Did you hear anything I’ve said for the past five minutes?”

She considers the question. “Sure. Ansur, the Emperor.”

She’s fibbing, and he notices. His eyes narrow.

“I said fighting a dragon, undead as it was, is exciting.” He moves forward, his bare torso coming within inches of her own. “But it won’t be exciting as this is, will it?”

He moves his hand to grasp her chin between thumb and forefinger, tilting her face to the side to inspect her neck - where he had bit her the day he changed her, took her for his own for eternity.

And yet he had been losing her, slowly but irrevocably, like sand sifting through his fingers…

He refuses to let that happen.

“Of course,” Ban says, smiling falsely up at him. His eyes are fierce, glowing with simmering rage and something… else, that she cannot figure out. “What would you like to do for tonight?”

She still enjoys it. Sex, carnal pleasure - the only part of him that was still him, the only part that responded as he did then.

Even if it wasn’t exactly the same. Her Astarion hadn’t been quite ready for this. Back then they had touched each other in all the ways that mattered, save one, and the future had looked bright.

At least she could look at him, let the fire in her loins take over, and pretend.

Ban snaps back to the present, distracted by the sensation of someone watching her.

Wyll offers her a wry grin. “Sleepless night?”

“Sort of.” Ban shifts forward as he sits in the chair opposite her. “I assume you’re thinking about the Wyrm.”

The grin falters at those words. Wyll’s gaze moves off to the distance for a second. “I don’t know what my father thought would happen, but I do wish that Ansur could have helped.”

Ban reaches out, grasping Wyll’s hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Nothing’s changed. It’s always been down to us, no? To our little group.”

He nods. “Not a reassuring thought, leaving the fate of so many to us.”

“And why not?” She tries to cheer him up. “We have the Blade of Frontiers! The archmage of Waterdeep. The fury of Avernus. We have the V-”

Her voice catches, and Wyll looks at her. “The Vampire Ascendant,” he finishes for her.

They’re in the tub, her hands scrubbing Astarion’s scalp. He purrs, leaning into her touch. As she finishes, he turns to face her.

“Very good, pet.” He runs a hand through his wet locks, pushing them away from his eyes. His face works at some unbidden expression before he reins it in, and it settles into his usual confident smirk.

“Now be a good girl and sit up there,” he says, nodding at the lip of the tub.

Ban does so, automatically spreading her thighs apart. Their nightly dance begins.

The Ascendant’s eyes are half-lidded and hungry, and he moves his head between her legs, tongue finding her cunt.

“Yes,” Ban nods. “Him too.”

It is Wyll’s turn to squeeze her hand. “I don’t want to pry, Ban, but… I worry. We all do.”

She stiffens. She considers telling them that she’s trapped, pinned between her love for Astarion and her hatred for what he’s become.

Choose for me. Make that choice for me. Save me.

But she doesn’t.

Not when she still loves him.

“We’re fine,” she says with a laugh that’s so obviously hollow that Wyll raises an eyebrow.

“He’s happy, I’m happy, and -” seeing the look on Wyll’s face makes her scramble for something, anything, “- you do hear us at night, don’t you?”

Wyll flushes. “Unfortunately.”

Astarion pummels into her, hips snapping with almost savage ferocity as he buries himself to the hilt with every thrust. He has her bent over the bed, his hands holding onto her hips for dear life, nails digging into her flesh. He fucks her without restraint, the bed creaking with every move. He wants it that way, wants to mark what’s his, wants everyone to know it.

Her cunt felt incredible, warm and tight and squeezing all around his cock - making him weep for her, just throbbing and aching for that sweet bliss of relief.

Fucking her like this, with her back to him and her face hidden away, is a blessing. He can avoid seeing those eyes - eyes that haunt him, who look at him as if he's already gone.

“You want this, don’t you? You want me, all of me, deep inside you.” he snaps his hips once, hard and punishing. She whimpers in response, the need evident in her voice and in the way her cunt clenches all around him.

He almost comes right there, but manages to hold off. Not quite yet.

“Say it, Ban.”

He is met with silence and thrusts in again, cock hitting her spot. He takes in a shaky breath, realizing just how close he is to the edge. He reaches forward with a hand and tugs on her hair.

“Say it.”

Say it. I need it. I need it to come. I need it to live.

Ban is fully aware of what he wants. Without fail he asks for it every night. She feels the tension on her scalp and her head follows suit, tilting backwards.

“I love you, Astarion.”

A low, rough exhale escapes him as she says it, the words shooting straight to his groin. He begins rolling his hips, gentler this time, skating ever closer to his climax.

“Again.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I won’t ever leave.”

Gods, yes. He can believe it, if only for this moment. His hips increase its pace, and he looks down to watch his own cock pulling out of her, its length glistening with their combined wetness, before he pushes it back in. He makes sure to angle himself, to make every stroke hit her spot; he is rewarded by the feeling of her cunt clenching all around him with every pass.

He’s not going to last. But he wants to hear it one more time. Please, he thinks.

Instead he growls, the hand fisted in her hair tightening, a command she understands only too well. She gives in.

“Astarion, I love you,” she breathes as her own climax threatens to overwhelm her.

For now, this is enough.

“Then come for me, my love.” Purred, his velvety voice dropping an octave.

He can feel her reach her climax, her walls clenching tightly around his cock, a feeling so intensely pleasurable he bares his fangs reflexively in response as he keeps thrusting. One hand moves to grab her ass. He moans, his hips losing its rhythm as he finally comes as well. His eyes fly shut, his entire existence narrowing down to only one thing: the feeling of his cock pulsing inside her, spurting his seed within her, giving her everything.

Ban gives him what he asks, says the words he so longs to hear. She feels the pleasure, feels the girth of his cock stretching her with every thrust, feels his head leaking slickness within her. She can sense him getting close in the way his hips change their pace, in his rough, ragged breathing, and in the way his cock swells ever larger inside her as it drags along her walls.

“Then come for me, my love.”

Those words uttered from that voice in that insistent tone never fail. She comes, legs twitching as her cunt squeezes his cock inside her, moaning his name. She feels ropes of come hit her walls, feels the sudden rush of warmth inside with every spurt, and for a moment things feel at least good, if not right.

Wyll offers her another smile, and then leaves her to her thoughts.

Alone, she thinks, yet again.

She stays in the common area longer, until she feels cold hands grasp her shoulders.

“Time for bed,” Astarion murmurs, his grip on her shoulders soft.

She stands, stretching her tired muscles before facing her lover.

Was he still that? After all this? Her eyes meet his face, and the fireplace bathes them both in firelight.

He offers her a hand, and she lets herself be pulled against his chest. Cupping her cheek, he leans in to kiss her; warm, fervent lips meet hers.

Astarion smiles. Whether it is genuine or not, Ban cannot tell.

In the light of the flickering flames, he looks like he used to.

In the light of their campfire, smiling. Happy. Hers.

If only. She would give everything to have him again.

For now, she can only dance with his ghost.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire @qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @ battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld @gracemisconduct @decadentcoffeewizard @rootin-tootin-n-kind@pursuitseternal@youngtacobanana @krispeenuggiez @the0ldmann @vinegarjello @pursuitseternal

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parkkiablah · 6 months

Text

Teasing game - pt. 3 (Zevlor x Tav)

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

Your friends had decided to not meet at the Elfsong this week, instead you all went camping for a night.

It's not like you went far away, barely outside of the city to be honest.

They had decided for a spot by the water. You could still hear some of the cities noise in the distance but it was unusually quiet to your ears, which was a very pleasant alternation.

It was already late when you met your friends as Astarion wouldn't be able to join otherwise due to the fact he couldn't just step out into the sun as everyone else.

The evening included food, wine, Alfira singing a new song she composed and Wyll trying to teach some of your friends how to dance. The wine didn't make it easier to learn dancing, but it made it much more funny, especially when you all convinced Gale and Astarion to dance with each other. A sight you won't forget for a while.

You looked around and noticed Zevlor sitting on a rock nearby, a cup of wine in his hand and watching the others dance. He had a smile on his lips and seemed to enjoy the sight of the others having fun.

You walked over to him, your own cup of wine in hand.

His gaze found yours while you were approaching him and his smile grew even more.

"Why do I always find you sitting by yourself instead of joining us?", you asked him once you had reached him.

"I am too old, I might break a leg while attempting to dance.", he responded but you noticed his tone indicating he was joking.

"I saw you weilding a sword probably heavier than me just a few weeks ago, so don't try pretending."

He laughed and admitted defeat.

"You caught me. I might just enjoy seeing them celebrate the peace they fought for."

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all, your company is most welcome.", he responded and patted on the rock next to him.

You never planned on sitting next to him and you just continued with your plan, boldly sitting on his lap and leaning your back against his chest.

For a second it felt like he has stopped breathing until you heard him exhale.

You were awfully aware of how tall he was, when even sitting on his lap you were just tall enough to lean your head against his shoulder.

"Please tell me if I am to heavy."

"I assure you, you are not.", he responded.

You still couldn't believe you were actually brave enough to just sit on his lap. The wine surely had his part at it, but you were still surprised.

To say he was shocked wouldn't even be enough to describe it. He couldn't put into words what he felt like when you just sat on his lap as he never would have expected you to. He honestly wasn't even sure why, as there was enough space next to him.

He did hope you couldn't hear his heartbeat as you leaned against his chest as it was beating embarrassingly fast. One of his hands still holding onto his cup of wine he wasn't sure where to put the other one.

Usually it would rest on his lap, but that's where you were sitting. He could be just as bold as you, just putting his hand in your lap, but he didn't want you to be uncomfortable and he was still not aware of the game you were playing.

He suddenly felt a touch on his hand and you pulled his arm around you, looking at his fingers and taking in amount of small scars on them.

You seemed curious about his talons this time, so he was expecting a question from you already, but you were keeping quiet.

The soft touch of your hands on his, your weight against his body and your scent surounding him, you were really testing him today.

His hands had always made you curious so you were glad you got the chance to look at them closer. You kept holding his hand but rested it against your body, when you were done taking a look at it. You could feel the warmth of his body on yours, especially now with his arm around you.

The others were still dancing and singing and you enjoyed watching them while listening to the steady breathing of Zevlor and the way his chest moved with every breath.

"Do you wanna dance?", you asked him while turning your head to look up at him.

"I will have to confess I am not a good dancer.", he responded as his gaze found yours, faces close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.

"You mean like you said you aren't good at cooking? In that case I don't have to fear my feet being stepped on today."

"Maybe you are right with that." You didn't just hear his laugh but felt it shake through his body.

"Come on then.", you said, standing up and holding the hand that still rested around your waist to pull him with you.

You were sure he would've said no if it weren't for the wine he had.

As expected he danced just fine, gently holding your hand, fingers wandering around your waist. He was holding you like he was too scared you might break if he held you any less gentle.

Sadly you didn't get much time to dance with him as Wyll interrupted you and asked for your assistance to show the others a dance he did teach you a while ago.

He was too excited about it to decline, even though you would've enjoyed dancing with Zevlor some more.

When you were dancing you noticed Zevlor looking rather tense.

You noticed him walk back to the place he was sitting at earlier and gulp down the cup of wine he had left there earlier. The faint smile he had been wearing earlier was gone and a frown showing on his face.

"Someone is jealous.", Wyll whispered to you as you were dancing.

"Huh?"

"Oh come on, you know what I am talking about."

"I'm concerned I don't."

"I'm talking about Zevlor glaring a whole in my back.", he said and laughed.

"I don't think he is jealous."

"Trust me, he is.", he said laughing.

But was he really?

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 zevlor #zevlor #zevlor x tav #zevlor x reader

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avocado-writing · 27 days

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7 anon here! Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Haarlep, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to gn s/o trying to comfort them awkwardly? Like asking if they should stay with them & leave to give space? If they should talk, just listen, or keep quiet?

Astarion

Oh, you are just as awkward as he is, and he loves it.

It’s so endearing, the way you try to pick the right words and keep failing. It’s a bit entertaining to see you squirm.

But you’re trying and it’s more than anyone has ever done for him before, honestly.

He wraps you in his arms and holds you close. Whispers in your ear a thank-you for caring. Feels his soul soften when you tell him he’s worth the world to you.

Gale

He’s exceptionally erudite most of the time, and so are you - that is why he’s so taken aback when you struggle for words.

You search the rich well of your eloquence for something to say and come up short. Instead you just pat him on the shoulder… and he bursts out laughing.

He apologises; he didn’t mean to be unkind, he just wasn’t expecting that reaction. In fact it’s enough to lift the mood and get him smiling again.

Wyll

Sees that you’re struggling with the best way to offer comfort, and instead just reaches out to take your hand.

He presses his lips to your knuckles so that you can feel when he talks.

“Knowing that you are here is enough to help, my heart.”

He feels you relax, letting go of the worry while stepping into his arms.

Halsin

You try to make awkward, comforting smalltalk with him, but a heavy hand on your knee silences you.

“It is enough that you are with me. Let us just… be together.”

So you are, sitting quietly side by side, enjoying the view of the flowers he’s sought out.

The simple act of you being next to him is a salve to his hurt.

Haarlep

The incubus is prone to flights of fancy. Melodrama comes with the territory. You’re lucky that, when he’s upset, it isn’t for long.

It’s so obvious how awkward you are. He laughs in your face at it. When you harrumph he turns playful again, wrapping you in his arms and tail and pressing his face into you.

“Oh, darling, I was only playing. Come now, let’s stop being sad and move onto better things…”

Dammon

Really tries to not show how upset he is in front of you, ever.

Prides himself on being strong! It wouldn’t do for you to see him crack and falter.

He can see what anguish you’re in trying to comfort him and never quite finding the right words. It makes him feel better, somehow? Like you should both be more open to showing these parts of yourselves.

The sincerity behind your awkward affection is enough to make him joyful again.

Rolan

Is probably a little gremlin about it, let’s be honest.

“I thought the hero of Baldur’s Gate was meant to be good at these sorts of things…”

”Well I thought the wizard of this tower would be adroit at social situations, but clearly I was a fool…!”

And then you’re back to bickering. It’s nice. It’s familiar. And you’re both happy.

Zevlor

It pains him to see you so uncomfortable.

He takes you in his arms, holds you close. Face pressed into the crook of your shoulder.

“My love, you should be the one leaning on me. I’m sorry to make you fret.”

You reassure him he has no reason to apologise to you, and just hold him until things feel better - which, eventually, they do. Your hug is a cure.

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oops-all-concrete · 2 months

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How would the party react to tav one day just walking around and singing, I’m talking borderline belting out a tune! (Idk why I can imagine karlach would join them).

Aw, I love this ask!! Thank you for the request and your patience while I got to it!

Lae'zel -

Lae'zel certainly isn't used to the idea of music, singing or entertainment that isn't dependent on violence of serving Vlaakith. So, watching Tav walk around camp and- wailing? In a tune? Like a one of the many bards she's heard of? Strange. She watches none the less and eventually asks why. No matter what Tav says, she's confused but tolerant. If it trains your body in some form or other, good for them...wierd istik.

Shadowheart -

Depending on Tavs music taste, she's either minding her own business or humming along. And if she's humming along, she might just tap her feet and do a little sway as well, angelic and small movements. If Lae'zel or Astarion give her a look, she shrugs them off and vibes harder, because she's not really having a good time unless she's spiting someone with no taste.

Wyll -

Need you even ask? No matter the tune, once he knows its rhythm, he's dancing along with the tune! If he knows the words he might even sing along, granted giving Tav the spot light. (He's got a nice voice, but not a trained one, so he's a little shy with it) He's happy to join in and will even encourage the rest of camp to partake in his favorite pass time; Music and dance! He has (and will again) invited people to dance with him, one arm extended to Gale, Karlach and once Shadowheart to come dance with him by the fire. He's down if you are!

Karlach -

She's a born dancer. She was made to move and it's all she knows. Once she gets a listen of a good beat, she has to move her hands and feet! She loves it when someone else starts a song, and is the first (alongside Wyll) to jump in on the fun. She quite proudly even got Withers to join at some point! I mean, he only bopped his head a little, but still! She's that contagiously fun! (And yes, she will sing along if she knows the words, and make then up if she doesn't. Also she sings like she's in a crowd doing a football chant, look at her)

Gale -

He's a wizard. While he can appreciate the word craft that goes into a bards songwriting, he can't quite find it in him to follow along with a beat. Two left feet, Gale had. If Tav wants him in on the fun, they have to take the lead, as in physically drag the man into the fray and dance with him. At most he's just doing the two step and trying not to tread on Tavs feet, but he's having fun. Otherwise he's jut happy to tap his foot and applaud.

Astarion -

Similar to Shadowheart, it depends on the song. He will judge Tav harshly based on their taste, but otherwise, he's someone who can easily hum along. If you get a song he really likes though, he will show you how it's done! Shockingly nice voice, albeit not trained at all, and the confidence just sells it.

Halsin -

He finds it sweet. Regardless if he knows the song or has heard it before at all, he finds it admirable to watch someone with a tadpole in their head just casually burst out in song for funsies. He likes Tav.

Jaheira -

You'd have to get an older song to get her excited, but once you do, she's the loudest in the room. "OH! I haven't heard that in an age! Please continue" She says, sitting, listening with her eyes closed and otherwise just being in her element.

Minsc -

"Do you take requests? Are you familiar with classical Ramishen shore shanties? I always liked the idea of being a pirate, until Boo told Minsc what that meant"

Hope you enjoyed! My requests are open for more asks!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #lae'zel #shadowheart #karlach #astarion headcanons #gale headcanons #wyll headcanons #lae'zel headcanons #karlach headcanon #shadowheart headcanons #headcanons

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senualothbrok · 5 months

Text

Rest

Summary: You have defeated the Netherbrain and survived. But when Gale asks you to marry him, you find that you cannot accept his offer.

Word count: 2.8k

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Gale x female Tav. Hurt/comfort.

World state: Gale did not sacrifice himself or claim the Crown of Karsus, which remains in the Chionthar.

AO3 link

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

His words wind you. You do not expect them. Had they been an upper cut, or perhaps a cross, you would have seen it coming. You would have tensed for impact, like you have thousands of times before. You would have barely felt the blow when it landed.

But these words – you do not anticipate them. They blindside you.

“I wondered if you might consider accompanying me back to Waterdeep as a new member of the Dekarios clan?”

His soft eyes shine, brimming with hope. Love.

You feel like you are suspended. It is not unlike the numbness after a fight. The empty shock and silence, the world bustling around you while you listen in a stupor to your laboured breaths. You cannot even feel the aching of your limbs. You mouth makes your question without your consent.

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

Such warmth and light, such gentleness in his smile. It would speak volumes, even if he were silent.

“I suppose I am. Tara would be delighted, not to mention my mother. But I’d be just as happy without such ceremony, as long as we’re together.”

You flinch. You do not know why. And you do not know why the sounds stick in your throat as you turn from him, as if defending against a punch to your gut.

“I’m sorry, Gale,” you manage to force out.

You cannot bring yourself to look back at him as you retreat.

-----

You never expected to fall in love with this man.

You were not surprised to find an instant friendship with Lae’zel, disciplined and fuelled by combat, instinctively aware of how the battle could swallow you up until nothing of you remained. Even Wyll, his life rewritten by tales of glory, and Shadowheart, reduced to the pinprick of a divine mission shrouded in secrets. They were fast and easy companions, in whose presence some things did not need to be spoken to be understood.

But Gale. This man spoke as though reading from a textbook, and carried himself with an awkwardness that suggested he had never thrown a punch in his life. You had few dealings with wizards, much less ones of skill and renown. You had no education or scholarly insight, no aptitude or experience with magic. You were sure you had nothing in common with him, pleasant enough as he was.

The only time you had encountered anyone like Gale had been when your coach had tried to sell you to wealthy sponsors and patrons. They would stand there in their spotless robes and finery, appraising your bruised and bloody body after each fight, grimacing and finding you wanting. You had won a handful of fights but lost more. Outside of a small circle in Baldur’s Gate, you were little known in the boxing circuits. Human females, much less ones as slight of stature as you, generally did not fare well.

But you had fought your way out of that flophouse, and every day was a fight to keep surviving. You could not remember a time before you had been recruited as a boxer, a time before fighting was what you lived and breathed and dreamt of. A fighter was all you were, all you had ever been.

No, you did not expect to grow close to this man. You had never known anyone like him.

The first time you had felt it was when he spoke to you of the Weave. No wizard or sorcerer had ever bothered to really speak to you before, let alone share this most intimate of secrets. Gale had felt held and cradled by the Weave, cocooned in its embrace, and it had transformed him, even in the telling of it. And you had known, then, that he would understand. You knew you could tell him how it felt in the midst of a fight, when the battle became a spirit that carried you like a wave, a surge of freedom and ecstasy that possessed you, until you became the fight. You were one with it. Without it, you felt lost, like you were nothing.

He had understood it. Much later, when he told you of Mystra, you realised that he understood it more acutely than anyone else could.

When you learned he was from Waterdeep, you told him about the fight you had lost there about a year before you had found yourself on the Nautiloid. The two of you had revelled in the realisation that you had walked the streets beneath his tower, looked across the sea that he had gazed at from his balcony. If you had looked up, you may even have seen him sitting there, reading or bickering with Tara. In Gale’s unbridled excitement, you could feel an agonised yearning for home. But you could not tell him you had been to all the taverns and libraries he recounted with longing. You could not tell him that you had enjoyed all the specialties of Waterdeep that he wished so intensely to cook and share now. You felt disappointment, and even some shame, in this.

“I didn’t have the pleasure of any of that,” you told him. “The second that I was awake, I was training for the fight. And after the fight, I had to leave to start training for the next one.”

He grimaced. “And I had locked myself away, and couldn’t have seen you fight. Another regret I can add to my ever growing list – that I didn’t have the privilege of crossing paths with you then.”

The thought of Gale pinched into the jeering crowds that loomed around you while you bled and battered the daylights out of an orc seemed so ridiculous that you could not help but laugh.

“I don’t think that would have been your scene, Gale. Even if you had left your tower.”

He chuckled. “I might have met you at a tavern after the fight.”

You arched an eyebrow. “I doubt you would have given me the time of day. Boxers like me don’t generally have any enlightening insights about the arcane arts.”

At that time, you did not tell him the truth – that you never would have gone to a tavern. Your coach would not have permitted you, even if you had wanted to. The temptation to drink and feast and choose pleasure over sleep would have been too great. Everything in your fighter’s life was measured and rationed out like water in a desert. You could not have a morsel without your coach’s approval, and even with it, warning bells would signal in your head whenever any rule was broken, any restriction disregarded. A tavern may not have been Gale’s scene, but it was not yours either.

You did not tell him that long before he had been trapped in his tower, you had been trapped in that boxing ring. It was the only home you knew. Yet you still yearned for it, even as he did.

He looked at you then, in a way no one had ever done before. There was a fullness in his gaze, a tenderness, but his eyes were unflinching. It stirred something inside you that you had forgotten was there. A warmth tingled through you like trailing fingers.

“I would have relished a conversation with you,” he said. “Just as I do now.”

Desire was not something alien to you. Sex was not frowned on in the training camps you had been sent to time after time. It was a way to remove distractions, ease tension, improve performance. You had even benefited from it with competitors. “Judicious bloodletting helps to resolve disputes,” Lae’zel was fond of saying, and you found sex to be the same.

When Lae’zel had made you an offer, though, you had declined. Though it was years ago, you could almost feel the aches from your last dalliance with a Githyanki fighter. The mere thought of it exhausted you now. To your relief, Lae’zel was pleased when you suggested regular sparring instead. You would go on late into the evenings, your companions watching enthusiastically at first, Karlach and Astarion even taking bets. But when one by one, their interest waned and they retired to their tents, Gale remained, wide eyed in wonder. There was no disaffected judgment, no wry appraisal in his stare.

You could see that it aroused him. You recognised that look well. He had even told you so, deep in the recesses of the Shadow-cursed lands, with your jaw clenched, muscles taut and slick with sweat. You were surprised and amused, and it had aroused you too, to know his feelings while he watched you doing what you did best. And it was familiar to you, to have to earn your keep and prove yourself worthy.

Everything in life had always been a fight to you. You were used to pushing your body to its limits and your mind beyond what it could endure. The battles you fought on your journey to the Netherbrain had not been so different than what you were used to, absent the looming threat of death. You were used to the gruelling, endless cycle, training and harrowing yourself before each fight. But you had never been accustomed to success and victory. The shame of defeat suffocated you, the fury and resentment of your coach more painful than any knock out. And even when you won, when you attained the glory which you had tortured yourself for so long to achieve, you would be overwhelmed by a crippling emptiness. It was an emptiness that could only be filled momentarily by the promise of another fight, a semblance of another purpose. Yet always, you would lie awake in the dead of night, muscles throbbing and torn, bruises purpling and bones broken, exhausted but unable to sleep or rest.

But you did not feel that emptiness anymore. Each victory on this great struggle did not disappear once you had reached it. Instead, every trace of goodness and kindness, every life saved, however fragile, was a light cast into the hole inside you that you thought could never be filled. For the first time in your life, you found that you could sleep, though rest still seemed to elude you.

And when he came to love you, it sometimes felt that that hole was not there at all.

The first time he showed you the Weave, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. There was no pain, no exertion. No gritting of teeth, no agony of toil. It felt like floating in warm water. It felt like your mother holding you in the cradle of her arms, the gentle rhythm of her heart beat, when you were small and she was healthy and you were still together. It felt like rest. And so it was, all the times when he touched you, every kiss he left on your skin which lingered inside you like a flame. He was rest.

He looked at you like you had saved him. But you could not understand it. How could anyone help but love a man like him? There was no malice or cruelty in him. If there was any shadow of Mystra, any inkling of hubris, it was not difficult to steer him from it, or to speak to the fear that lay underneath. To love him was like breathing. It was not a skill you had to master, a performance you had to train for, a habit you had to beat into yourself. It felt easy. And that terrified you.

His love for you terrified you even more. It did not demand from you, always pushing for more than you thought you could give. Ever sharpening and honing you like a blade, chipping away at you until you were more, enough, worthy. It was like being buoyed by the Weave. You did not need to struggle to stay afloat. You did not have to swim against it to survive. You could just be.

No one had ever looked at you, or touched you, or loved you like that. So you had explained it away to yourself. Perhaps he was simply grateful. Thankful to be seen and loved for the man he was, a person to be cherished rather than a life to be used. Flattered that you would fight for him. Enamoured with your prowess in combat. Driven by the threat of imminent death. You had not truly thought it would last, if you both survived the Netherbrain. You were prepared to let him go.

But he did not go. Instead, he said, “I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” And he asked you to marry him.

You do not know what to do with that.

-----

You can hear him shuffling outside the door. There is a long pause, then the smallest of knocks.

“Are you alright?” He waits, coughs. “I didn’t mean to upset you. If my words have distressed you-”

You want to hide, but the trembling in his voice is too much. You rise to your feet. As the door opens you see that his eyes are glistening and his features have fallen, as though he is on the cusp of collapse. And though the thought that you have hurt him claws at your heart, there is a wall that has sprung up inside you that you do not know how to break.

“I’m sorry.” Your words come out flat, hollow.

He steps towards you hesitantly. You can feel in the lurch of his body that he wants to embrace you, but he does not. Even in this moment, he is thinking of what you want.

“If you wish to end this, I understand. I’ll cherish everything we shared, and I’ll always love you-”

He stops, breathes in sharply, turns away. His chest heaves.

Without warning, you feel a tear roll down your cheek. One begets another, and another, until you are drowning in a flood of the hottest tears that you have ever shed. Hotter than the anguished tears you sobbed through so many nights of gnawing hunger and cramps, when you told yourself that the fight was all that mattered, that the sacrifice was all there was. That you were nothing without them.

You are almost doubled over now. You cover your face with your hands. By instinct, in shame, or in fear - you are not sure which.

“Please, go,” you choke.

“If that’s what you want. If this is the end.” His voice breaks. “I suppose this is goodbye. I always knew it was a colossal stroke of luck, to have been loved by someone like you.”

You find that you are shaking your head, over and over again, as though in a frenzy. Because you cannot lie, but you do not know what the truth is.

“No one has ever…”

He holds you with his gaze, whirling with agony, infused with love.

“I haven’t earned…” You struggle to breathe. “I’m not…”

There is a sudden flicker in his eyes. Is it recognition? When he speaks, there is longing, and the fire of resolution. He cups your face with his hands.

“I love you completely. I love everything about you, every single part of you. You never needed to earn it. You don’t need to fight for it. My love is forever yours, if you want it.”

“Gale-”

He traces his thumb over your cheek, caressing a tear away. “You love me, not for the magic I command, just as I love you, not for the fights you can win.”

You take hold of his hands. You can feel the wall crumbling now, but you are afraid of what is behind it.

“And if I lose? If I fail? If I stop training, fighting, if my muscles sag and I lose my strength? When I am nothing-”

You had not quite realised, until you spoke the words, all of the things you feared.

“You were never nothing.” His words are so firm, so kind, that they reverberate through you. “You were always everything. And I will love you until I breathe my last, until nothing remains of me but ashes. I will never stop loving you.”

At first, you cannot be convinced of his words. How can they be true? All these years you have fought, all the times you have fallen short. Love must be a fight to be won, a standard to which you cannot measure.

But Gale’s face is bright with the sincerity that illuminates his eyes whenever he looks at you. And in that moment, you let yourself believe him. You let yourself dissolve into him, like a river flowing back into the sea, and you do not fight the current. You lose yourself in his warmth as he wraps himself around you, the smell of sandalwood and smoke, the bittersweet taste of his musk and sweat, the vibrations of his skin against yours. The stars that burst and expand inside you with every surge of his being. You are home.

“I’ll marry you,” you whisper afterwards.

And with his arms around you, you rest.

----

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#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale romance #gale fanfic #gale fic

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