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#arguably shadowheart too

feyascorner · 2 months

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at the end of the day

summary. you and astarion have your first genuine fight and the other companions try to patch things between the two of you.

warnings. comfort/fluff

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

a/n. have not written an actual one-shot in a while omg,...

Breakfast is eaten in silence. One that's been extending far past its welcome date now.

Shadowheart grips her fork, feeling the flitting glances exchanged amongst the others around the table while she maintains focus on the two individuals sitting on opposite sides of the table. Your eyes remain trained on the bread sitting on your plate and Astarion swirls his chalice aimlessly in his hand, neither of you even acknowledging the presence of the other. The cleric grimaces as you stand suddenly, your chair scraping against the floor as you do so.

"Thanks for the food, Gale," is all you mutter before leaving the room with your plate in hand. Astarion rises from his own chair in an instant, huffing.

"I must take my leave as well."

When both parties have left the room, all five other companions stare at one another in a knowing silence. Lae'zel is the only one who doesn't seem the slightest bothered. Wyll is the one to break the uncomfortable tension in the air, clearing his throat after Lae'zel nearly bites her fork off. "I see they're still amidst their lovers' quarrel."

"What are they even fighting about?" Karlach groans, slumping into her chair with an exasperated groan.

"It was nice the first few days to have a good night's sleep without their incessant noises," Shadowheart grumbles, shoving an egg into her mouth. "But now, this is arguable worse."

"Should we...aid them somehow?" Gale blinks.

Lae'zel snorts. "They're adults, we don't need to coddle them, wizard."

Despite her words, they do find themselves a few hours later in unanimous agreement to do something to ease the unfamiliar dryness of the camp dynamic. It comes in multiple attempts. And to say few---if not all--were unsuccessful, is an understatement.

First, when out in the woods, Gale makes an effort to spark a conversation that would prompt both you and Astarion to join in. You nod occasionally, though lost in thought, while Astarion promptly ignores whatever he's talking about. It's a pathetic attempt that has nobody but himself babbling away, which earns a grunt from Shadowheart. It's enough to shut him up, thankfully.

Second, Karlach uses her uncanny ability to lift someone's spirits. Jokes, dancing, all that jazz. Even booze. She urges you to let loose, but all you do in response is smile at her apologetically while Astarion just glares off into space. Another failed attempt. Lae'zel pats Karlach on the shoulder.

Wyll tells stories of his monster hunting days which you usually take an interest in. Astarion naturally listens to what a monster hunter does when he's not hunting monsters, but that's all it is. You and Astarion only listen. There are quips and lingering questions, but neither of you ever direct it at one another, or bother to add into the conversation either. The sheer amount of teasing questions has Wyll's head spinning by the end of it. Lae'zel rolls her eyes.

Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse, you're ambushed. It's a small horde of goblins---nothing beyond your capabilities, but your companions do take some small scratches here and there. Somehow, though he rarely does, as he prefers staying behind you or Karlach, Astarion does too. And despite his efforts to hide it behind his back, you also didn't miss the cut lining Astarion's arm to his elbow. It's not deep by any means, and if it were your own injury, you'd likely just brush it off.

But it's on his skin, and he'd gotten it when taking a hit from an arrow that should've cut your arm.

Blasted hells, you think, as he shrugs it off. Even when you can clearly see him clenching his jaw to bite away the pain.

If battle won't be the end of you, you're sure your idiot of a boyfriend might be instead.

"Come here, you fool," you mutter, holding out your hand. He doesn't even consider the fact that you're mad at one another and immediately extends his arm to you. Habits, you suppose.

You mumble out a weak scolding as he watches you wrap the wound through his lashes. He shivers as you lather a cool ointment on the cut, hoping it's enough to soothe the pain before Shadowheart's recovered enough to properly heal him. He lifts a pale hand to your face, and for a moment, you think he might pinch you. Instead, he runs a thumb across your cheek, spreading the ointment on a scratch you hadn't even realized was there in the first place.

You meet his eyes, your own softening as he cups his fingertips around your cheek. The way he looks at you is overwhelming sometimes---like you're the only thing he gives a damn about in this world---but it's a welcome feeling when he hasn't even looked you in the eye this way in days now. For a moment, you realize you don't even remember why the two of you were mad at one another in the first place.

A laugh threatens to escape your throat. How childish, truly.

And then he flicks your forehead, unable to help the grin etching onto his lips when you blink in surprise.

"That was for making me sleep by myself for three nights."

You swat at his arm while he dodges each of your lazy attempts to get back at him. And though the two of you continue bickering, unbeknownst to you, you have an audience a good bit away, watching you return to your old ways after making them worry for so long.

"What a sight it is--to see young people in love again," Wyll smiles.

Shadowheart deadpans. "Isn't Astarion nearing 240?"

"Who cares?" Karlach shrugs, slinging her arms on either side of her companions with a toothy beam. "What matters is that they made up...and we didn't even have to help them."

#is this kinda ooc idek atp #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #feyascorner #bg3 x reader #astarion x oc #baldurs gate 3

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adarlingmess · 8 months

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There's a lack of morally grey/evil male romantic options for BG3.

Let me preface this by saying that the direction Larian Studios took for the romances are groundbreaking. I can definitely feel the effect they wanted us to feel with the romances- it feels like an actual relationship instead of a game where the end goal is just sex. The players are given an opportunity to influence their love interests and affect their storylines for better or for worse, just like how one would in a real relationship. Kudos!

But… I need to say it. As much as I love Baldur's Gate and BG3, the "bad girl" romance options are numerous (Viconia, Hexxat & arguably Safana in the predecessor games; Shadowheart, Lae'Zel, & Minthara + Mizora as a fling in 3) compared to the male (Dorn in 2, Astarion in 3). There's something off about it that I can't put my finger on. Plus, player have more control on whether to "fix" the bad girls or "make her worse". Meanwhile, Astarion is the only "bad boy" you can do that with. You can't even steer Dorn to a lighter path- he will straight up leave you if you are too good.

In Baldur's Gate 3, every male romance option except Astarion starts off as "good boy" romances. Gale and Wyll did questionable things but their alignment ultimately leans towards good. Halsin is a walking green flag. What if we want to roleplay a character who is into the "bad boys"? This is why we were clamoring for a Raphael and Abdirak romance since Early Access. I see folks wanting Nere and Gortash too. Where are our bastards? Please, we want to play with fire 👀

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epiphyllous · 4 months

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when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be.

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own?

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself.

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant.

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

"...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment.

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head.

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would.

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him.

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly.

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck.

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined.

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes.

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights.

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck.

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation.

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips.

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning.

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word.

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible.

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone.

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist” for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group.

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile.

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them.

In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers.

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality.

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity.

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos.

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking.

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly.

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-”

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud.

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with.

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate?

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile.

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary.

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you.

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under.

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy.

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks.

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins.

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile. "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold."

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are.

Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him.

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is.

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all."

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it.

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you.

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you.

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well.

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts.

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate.

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes.

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully.

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops.

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further."

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him.

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise.

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first?

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not."

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite.

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty.

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity.

"Like what you see, darling?"

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava.

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look.

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?"

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you."

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect.

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you.

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him.

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to.

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax.

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more?

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused.

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?"

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again.

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not.

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?"

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes.

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic.

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night.

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence.

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him.

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past.

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember.

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion bg3 #will there be a second part? who knows #i black out and suddenly there is 10k words

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hellbentrapture · 4 months

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It is unfathomable to me that Gale of Waterdeep is considered somehow the most annoying character. Like, bitch, I'm sorry? Astarion? Shadowheart??? Hello???? All of the characters are annoying in Act I - that's half the point: we're all wearing our masks of survival, all traumatized and fighting our demons (or in many cases, gods). None of us actually know each other. The most "annoying" traits melt away as we get to know each other (in one way or another). *Gasp* Kind of like real life? How that happens and with who depends on your playthrough.

I found Gale's charm similar in style to Wyll's, just characterized differently - they both have a way with words at least! All Gale has is his magic, he places all of his self worth into that, what would we call it? Special interest? And on top of this, Mystra, the literal Goddess of Magic, uses and manipulates Gale as she pleases. How are any of Gale's ambitions or traits out place as compared to any of the others? He's not the only one in an unfair (arguably abusive) relationship, with trauma, with insecurities and deep rooted issues. And he's certainly not the quirkiest one there.

So how is the neurodivergent-coded chronically ill wizard the most annoying? How is it "good" that blowing himself up is his best ending?? Blowing himself up because Mystra tells him to, rather than what he could become as an individual. He is worth more than just being a pawn for a god.

Is he annoying because he requires magical items to manage his chronic illness - and yes, I am going to keep calling it that. I know he got it via his own hubris blablabla, moving on. But friends, companions, you don't need that ring of color spray. You will not use half of those items, and you can make gold easily with what you do sell. Gale cannot simply be called annoying because he consumes magical items.

As a neurodivergent, chronically ill, disabled persons, I live in constant fear of being considered too "annoying" and "too much" and someone who should be discarded by society or those with the power.

Gale is not flawless either, he has a lot to work on, I'm not ignoring that. But damn y'all...

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale #gale of waterdeep #larian

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chaosroid · 3 months

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I think it's really interesting to see patterns of double standards crop up in fandom again when it comes to racist behaviour exhibited by certain characters. People love to point out Shadowheart's racist attitude towards Githyanki but give Lae'zel a pass for some reason, when she is arguably far more racist. Nobody talks about it, they just call her blunt and brutally honest, but that's really understating things. Girlie is straight up a Gith supremacist who, for all of act 1, believes everyone in Faerun are beneath her and inferior. She makes derogatory remarks about your physical appearance, is frequently condescending about your people, tries to force a Tiefling to bow before her, and says some pretty vile things like believing children deserve death if they are weak. All the result of indoctrination of course, but despite sharing so many similarities with Shadowheart, the latter is treated far more harshly.

Nevermind that it's later revealed that Shadowheart is wary of Gith bc they recently just slaughtered her entire team, making her the sole survivor. Can't say they didn't have it coming since they stole their artifact, but her hostility doesn't just come from nowhere. If you play as a Githyanki, she'll be nervous at first but very quickly warms up to you and admits she's misjudged you. Also considering that Githyanki are literal fascist raiders with the only thing preventing them from pillaging all of Faerun being their war with the Illithids, her wariness is hardly unfounded. We hear instances of Githyanki patrols slaughtering Tieflings as early as act 1. It doesn't make her comments any less wrong, but considering the context, it makes sense.

Honestly, it feels like a case of Shadowheart looking too similar to a human earning her more scrutiny, whereas the more alien characters tend to get away with racist behavior despite acting in the same manner, if not worse, excused by "cultural differences". The Mass Effect fandom treated Ashley Williams similarly, where being human earned her more scorn while the racist remarks said by the alien crewmates were brushed aside and barely acknowledged. Garrus tries to make Tali feel contrite about her race, Wrex and Grunt straight up call Salarians a slur multiple times and is fine with making the Rachni extinct, Mordin contributed to the culling of the Krogans, Javik thinks everyone who isn't Prothean are primitive, and fans cheer when Shepard calls a Hanar a "big stupid jellyfish", but Ashley's the most bigoted squadmate of that franchise apparently.

It's a fascinating phenomenon that I notice in many fantasy and sci-fi fandoms, and it's amusing seeing it happen to BG3's as well now.

#saw a reddit thread where half the comments said they preferred lae'zel over shart bc she 'wasn't a racist bitch' like huh???#baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #lae'zel critical #mass effect #ashley williams #fandom critical

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fandomdancie · 3 months

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BG3 companions through their kids’ life stages (part 2)

Part 1 is here

Jaheira:

We have the benefit of seeing her parenting in action during the game, at least a little bit.

She’s fine with all ages — not truly terrible with any — but young toddlers are arguably the hardest for her. The lack of logic is maddening.

The sooner she can treat the kid like a peer or an apprentice, the easier it is for everyone

Karlach:

Wants to be good with infants but they are so tiny and delicate. Is fascinated by them tho.

Loves toddlers, though— thinks dealing with a kid constantly demanding “no!” or “mine!” isn’t any worse than dealing with cambions in Avernus. Plus, they can stand up to a bit of roughhousing; perfect.

Might have a tougher time with teens? I think she’d struggle with her kid not being a baby anymore, leading to lots of eye rolling on all sides. But Auntie Karlach would be GREAT with someone else’s teens — she won’t tattle on them for a little misbehavior :)

Lae’zel:

Infants are terrible. Weak, shrill things. So are toddlers. So illogical, so demanding.

Young kids are where she’d start to shine — once she felt she could teach a lesson and see the kid grasp the point of it.

Likewise, I think she’d be unflappable with a teen, honoring their desire for independence and keen to see them succeed in the world.

Shadowheart:

Doesn’t really know what to do with infants, finds cleaning up after them distasteful.

Would be surprisingly pleased as a toddler started asserting themselves, like “oh there’s their personality.”

From then on: endlessly fascinated with the things they’re learning, how they’re growing to see the world. The kid’s revelations about how the world works would spark memories of hers, too.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #shadowheart #karlach cliffgate #lae’zel #jaheira

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vyncentevelyn · 6 months

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The reason why we get so many, "Gods, you're beautiful," lines from our baby girl. Or at least, my headcanon.

Karlach: So what’s it mean?

Iseult: *looks up from the campfire into the tiefling's bright eyes* Huh?

Karlach: Your name.

Iseult: Oh! Um. Well it means “pale one”…my, uh, father chose Iseult.

Astarion: *tilts his head and watches but says nothing*

Karlach: Is it cause your the color of a corpse? A pretty corpse but…you still look kinda…well dead.

Iseult: *a small smile pulling at her lips* I wish.

Karlach: *expression falling and her eyes grow wide* What does that mean?

Iseult: My father isn’t exactly a kind man, but he is a clever man. Or rather he thinks he’s clever. I’m only half Drow. And I look very unlike my people. Though, I also look very different than humans too. But according to my father, I have too much of my mother’s coloring. So, he named me Iseult.

Gale: Hells...

Karlach: I…I don’t fully understand.

Shadowheart: *sneakily places her hand over Iseult's hand*

Iseult: *still smiling at Karlach* I don’t look enough like the Drow. My skin is too pale, my hair is too dark. Even my eyes are too muddy to be considered red. *she lets out a soft chuckle and gestures to her face* And not to mention the scars. So my father basically named me after slang we use to describe things considered ugly.

Karlach: Fucking hells...

Iseult: It's ok. I tend to like my name. Having pride in it is a big fuck you to ol' dad. *she smiles brightly at Karlach*

Karlach: *her face relaxes into an honest expression* I think you have the right of it there. And for what it's worth, I don't think you're ugly.

Iseult: Well of course not, I'm fucking gorgeous. Now, someone pass me the damn wine.

Iseult: *blinks away the sleep as she sits up from her bed roll* Hmm?

Astarion: *kneeling beside her* Wake up.

Iseult: What's going on, everything ok?

Astarion: I...gods. *he grabs her chin and makes her focus on him, he swallows* You are beautiful, Iseult.

Iseult: *her stomach drops*

Astarion: *his eyes flash like blood in the dying fire light*

Iseult: I think we're still drunk.

Astarion: *he lets out a pained chuckle* Stop that. I...I'm trying to be serious.

Iseult: *ignoring the stinging weight growing in her eyes*

Astarion: You are beautiful.

Iseult: *starts to shake her head*

Astarion: Stop. *tightens his grip on chin, not tight enough to really hurt but just enough to bruise* I will tell you every damn day until you believe me.

Iseult: *takes in a shaky breath*

Astarion: I know I'm supposed to say something like looks aren't important and it's what's inside that counts right now, and while you are arguably delicious on the inside, you are undeniably delicious on the outside. Why do you think I wanted to bite you that night? I had plenty of other choices. But if I was going to eat an apple for the first time, why wouldn't I pick the best looking apple?

Iseult: *closes her eyes*

Astarion: I am that shallow, darling.

Iseult: *lets out a strangled chuckle and opens her eyes to meet his*

Astarion: Let me be your mirror now, yes?

Iseult: *smiles and tries to ignore the tear that falls*

Astarion: *leans forward and licks the tear from her cheek, he lets out a soft growl* Delicious.

Iseult: *softly* Are you sure?

Astarion: Are you questioning my taste?

Iseult: Always, darling.

Astarion: *he releases her chin* That-a girl. Now lay back, I'm hungry.

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mermaidsirennikita · 2 months

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Please, give us some loser heroes

Hahaha gladly

(this got long)

I mean, I've gotta say, one of the loseriest heroes I've read recently is Envy from Throne of the Fallen by Kerri Maniscalco. I've said it before and I'll say it again--if you're looking for a fantasy romance to try, especially if you normally read historicals, this is it (and TotF does stand alone if you want to try it first versus the trilogy that comes before it).

Envy is like, on a quest to save his court, and he's ostensibly a Prince of Hell and therefore very strong and full of supernatural gifts but like... He spends so much of this book falling flat on his face, ESPECIALLY with his heroine Camilla, who is Extremely Unimpressed. (There's a moment wherein he has to do something amazing to save his own life, and she's genuinely like assuming he's just going to die lmao.) His brothers randomly show up to dunk on him throughout the book. Not even for like, plot, just to be like "Sooooo have you seduced her yet? No? Shocker." He does things he thinks are so cool and then is like "Oh God immediate regret mistake".

*love him*

Seven Nights in a Rogue's Bed by Anna Campbell is a recent read wherein the hero presents himself as very suave and confident, and he's like "I SHALL KEEP YOU HERE FOR SEVEN DAYS AND SEDUCE YOU, MY INNOCENT MUAHAHAHA" before being like "nooooo I have harmed the innocent, I AM A WORM!!!" when the heroine shows pitches an emotional fit at him.

Allegreto in Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale is another "muahahahahaha" hero, and he is like, legitimately dangerous and threatening (TW: noncon in the first encounter) but once the heroine, Elena, gets her hooks in him... He is.... a sad little baby. A sad little baby who doesn't think he can go to church because he's done too many murders and is going to hell. BUT HE'S COOL WITH THAT. He's totally cool with that.... he's cool.... Arguably even more of a loser if you read For My Lady's Heart first, which is set ten years earlier and features another couple (the hero is less of a loser but still has embarrassing moments like being visibly aroused in front of the heroine and getting called out on it by her in front of SEVERAL priests, and also thinking this heroine is his perfect lady who he's pledged to for thirteen years only to meet her for real and be like "oh my god she's kind of EVIL??? My life has been devoted to a VILLAINESS???? I'm so STUPID") and also a teenage Allegreto who does absolutely RIDICULOUS things like carry a plague apple around because he's scared of plague, and like, hold the hero's hand during sleep because he thinks the hero will ward off plague, and pretend to be A CASTRATO for an ELABORATE SCHEME which he HONESTLY DID NOT HAVE TO DO.

A Rose at Midnight by Anne Stuart (TW: a lot of dubcon between the hero and heroine at first, noncon in the heroine's past not with the hero) has another "I am such a villain, my lady!!!" hero who is actually a massive ball of guilt and angst. The first time they sleep together she actually secretly enjoys it and hates herself for it, but she didn't Get All The Way There and he walks away like "I'M SO EMBARRASSING I CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT" and like kicking rocks while pretending to be very above it.

Mafia Madman by Mila Finelli. Enzo d'Agostino's master plan is to kidnap the heroine by blowing up a bar for REVENGE and everyone around him is like "honestly your master plan... doesn't even make a lot of sense" even though it TOTALLY makes sense, y'all just DON'T GET IT. He then proceeds to get schooled by the heroine at every opportunity and become her dog (literally there's a bonus epilogue where she's gone for like 30 seconds and his brothers are like "look at what she did to him, he used to be a perfectly good mafia don, now he has anxiety").

Charlotte and The Seductive Spymaster by Grace Callaway has the titular spymaster who faked his death to keep his wife safe and IMMEDIATELY regretted it, returning from the dead twelve years later and getting mad that she's flirting with another man. So he like. THROWS ROCKS AT THE OTHER MAN??? FROM A SECRET HIDING PLACE? Embarrassing behavior. He also faints at one point. Like, it made sense, but I still laughed my ass off. And his wife is super competent, so she's constantly like "... really?"

Seduce Me at Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas has Kev Merripen, who is extremely competent on paper because he's literally the only person in that series who has a real job, but emotionally... the boy ain't right. He literally thinks that if he sleeps with Win ONCE she'll get pregnant and die. He like, hides in the background. Married by Morning also has an extremely losery moment from Leo Hathaway in which he basically does that thing from that meme where he trips and drops all of his obsessive things about the heroine, and the obsessive things are tons of drawings he did of her wearing nothing but her glasses. And she's like ".... you sure have an active imagination". Honestly, Harry from Tempt Me at Twilight also has his share of cringe, like the time he thought he was super hurting Poppy during her first time, so he just jumped off her and hated himself for days and ran away and she had to literally hunt him down and go "I'm FINE now FINISH IT".

Hart Mackenzie from The Duke's Perfect Wife, I will always maintain, is a massive loser who pretend to be extremely competent. Like, he's all "Eleanor, as you know, we did it three times when we were engaged" and she's like "yes.... like a decade ago Hart... I'm not.... impressed". He's being blackmailed by a stranger who sent Eleanor (a reporter) nude photos he took years ago and he's like ".... well those certainly are photos I took Eleanor". He gets all growly at her and she boops his nose. It's pathetic.

Dreams of a Dark Warrior by Kresley Cole, aka "he's constantly being reincarnated after sleeping with the heroine, like they hook up and then he just dies half an hour later in what sound like frankly increasingly comical death scenes, and she's immortal so she finally just gives up on even kissing him"... One of the legitimately saddest heroes I've ever read, lol. He's been brainwashed into hating immortals (with some solid reasons tbf) so he's like, the head torturer in this prison of immortals (TW, it's kinda intense) and he HAAAATES the heroine and she's DETERMINED to kiss him to kill him this time because she HAAAATES him. But like. His body count is like 1.5 because he's never actually really been interested in anyone because, though he doesn't know it because he doesn't remember, his soul only wants HER. So he meets her and is very *boing* about her and HATES it, and they literally have a fight in his office where he ends up on top of her and she's like "... I can feel EXACTLY how into this you are" and he's like !!!!!!!!!! He's just increasingly confused.

Also, this leads very nicely into Lothaire, where the big bad of the series is revealed to be a frankly loony tunes nightmare who's like "honestly I'm only 50% lucid at any given time". And he does a lot of puzzles in his spare time. And he wears trenchcoats because he thinks it looks cool (it doesn't). And he's constantly getting OWNED by a 24 year old psych major dropout. Like, she'll just perfectly diagnose him and he goes "... well you got me there". At one point, she hops on it with their clothes on (because he's trying to menacingly be like "YOU HAVE NO CHOICE" but it was actually exactly what she wanted him to do) and he has an Incident in his jeans, and she later finds him in the shower and throws said jeans at him like "NEXT TIME YOU TRY TO BE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY REMEMBER WHAT I MADE YOU DO LOSER". Sad of him.

Embry Moore in Sierra Simone's New Camelot trilogy falls in love with Ash when he's literally stepping on him. And it's honestly just a string of embarrassments after that.

The Master by Kresley Cole (Kresley kinda specializes in Powerful Losers) features a billionaire Russian mafia hero shivering in the rain while the heroine takes an important test texting her like "I hope you do well :D!" because he's trying to get on her good side again lmao I was frankly embarrassed on his behalf

A Demon's Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sarah Hawley features the demonic big bad of the last book coming back with AMNESIA and the heroine rescues him from getting beaten up in like, the first chapter. And he's all "wooooow she's so strong *_*"

Hugo and The Maiden by S.M. LaViolette has a sex worker hero who's all "I'M JADED, I CARE FOR NOTHING BUT MYSELF" getting shipwrecked while being transported on a tiny island, and he gets picked up by a giant, sweet guy who carries him like a baby (while he angrily protests) to this makeshift hospital where the heroine, a vicar's uptight, bossy daughter berates him, and it's like all downhill for his dignity from there.

We cannot forget my beloved Duke of Lockwood from The Duke Gets Even, who spends three books getting swerved or cucked or both, and finally admits he's into Nellie and is all "we shall begin a no strings affair" only to like, immediately fall in love with her. And the rest of the book is her being like "we aren't going to get married Lockwood" and he's all "but whyyyy" and she's like "because you literally said this was a no strings affair which is the only reason why I agreed to it. (Him: :(.) He's also completely broke and thinks that he, as a duke, has sway in America, and there's an entire scene where Teddy Roosevelt himself is like "I like you but I can't help you because you're actually just a broke loser here" after he tries to boss up.

Wynter from C.L. Wilson 's The Winter King is all, "I'm a conqueror, I'm so dangerous, if you don't give me a child within a year I'll leave you on a glacier to die" only for everyone in his employ to be like "girl the glacier thing is actually bullshit". He's actually a puppy. The heroine discovers that he makes sad little ice sculptures of his dead family because he's so lonely. I was like "aww" but also "Jesus dude go outside".

The Duke Gets Desperate features a duke who's an art history major, basically, and like all art history majors (I say as one) he has no applicable life skills and his estate is going under. (I LOVE a broke aristo.) So when the heroine shows up having also inherited the estate and is like "we're going to charge people for tours of the castle to make sure we can pay for it" he's all "GAAAAAASP MADAME DUKES DO NOT HAVE TOURS OF CASTLES DUKES ARE DIGNIFIED AND BROKE!!"

Mercy by Sara Cate features a hero who was literally a cheater in a previous book, a rotten SCOUNDREL finding out that what he really needs to straighten up is to be humiliated and dominated by an older woman (ideally, his dad's close friend).

The Queer Principles of Kit Webb by Cat Sebastian has former highwayman and local sad man and cafe owner Kit begin tutoring dandy swordsman Percy on how to like, rob people. But Kit is ridiculously attracted to Percy, something Percy clocks immediately by being like "this loser is looking at my ankles" and whenever Percy Does Something to Kit Kit is like "THANK YOU OMG".

Oh, speaking of, Shane in Heated Rivalry is like, a perfect athlete and also a massive dork. He's also a "thank you omg that was amazing" guy and then is immediately like "I SAID THANK YOU???" At one point when he and Ilya do it for the first time his inner monologue is like "what if we get stuck together and the fire department has to come and pull us apart and EVERYONE WILL KNOW". A human ball of anxiety. Constantly embarrassed by himself. Ilya is more confident and smooth but also has some losery moments, like when they're camming for each other and he looks at Shane after and says in Russian "I'm so in love and it's horrible" lmao.

Lol Jamison from Tracey Livesay's American Royalty is notably pathetic because he's like, a frosty uptight British prince, and as soon as he sees the heroine he immediately becomes a slobbering ridiculous mess. He manages to keep up the frosty prince act for approx. five minutes.

Managed by Kristen Callihan. Scottie is so in control and prickly and TOGETHER... except for the scene where he fishes her dirty laundry out in the bathroom and does Unspeakable Things and then hand washes it and hides it under the mattress for Later and she FINDS IT.

Hotel of Secrets by Diana Biller has a virginal hero who believes he must be celibate to be an amazing operative, and he's great at the operative stuff, but he's soooo into the heroine. At one point there's a scene where she's bandaging him and she touches his ribs and he's like "pls stop" and she's all "why" and then Looks Down and goes "oh". Humiliating stuff!

Lush Money by Angelina M. Lopez has a hero who gets caught by the paparazzi when he's servicing the heroine on his knees in a car. Very sad for his dignity.

#i mean there are more #i guess i just really like men being humiliated #romance novel blogging #book recs #romance novels #declan chase (DC!) is really peak humiliation and he deserves it #when he's like...#sitting on a chair while regin sits in a bathtub talking about how they could live out this life #and he's like *I literally can't handle this* shifting around in the chair #getting put in Torturer Detention bc he 'put his had in the cookie jar'#(she is the cookie jar)

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sheloves-toomuch · 1 month

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Chapter 2: Who Are You?

Part 2, continued from Introductions. I'm still working on a title. Please don't copy my work, post, or use it without my permission.

In this chapter, Zenosyne discovers a little more about her party members... and a little more about who she may have been before losing her memories... The song lyrics are slightly altered but taken from the song Téir Abhaile Riú by Celtic Woman.

TW: blood, hypnotism.

Evening rain pelted the ground in a steady rhythm, and the sky flashed intermittently with the bright lightning of the heavens.The party had taken refuge beneath a towering cliffside just beyond the Druid’s Grove to keep themselves out of the elements. It had been many weeks since the start of their journey together, but the unusual band of misfits that traipsed through Faerun looking for the cure to their Ilithid curse had grown fond of one another. Each of them had their unique quirks, this was true. Lae’zel was arguably just as ferocious as Zenosyne had predicted, and her coarse manner had not softened in the slightest. Shadowheart talked more with her companion, but it seemed the more that the priestess of Shar spoke the more questions there were surrounding her past. Karlach, however, was more and more thrilled at the prospect of having new friends and of being free of the hells- even if just for a time. Her zest for life left Zenosyne feeling as though her cup had been filled whenever they talked. Gale and Wyll left her feeling this way, too, in their own ways.

Astarion was a different matter- one which left Zenosyne questioning what it was that she felt towards him. Although Gale had revealed the dreadful curse bestowed upon him by the goddess Mystra- Astarion felt it necessary to chide him on his secrecy. It was a brazen thing to do, considering everyone knew that he was hiding something himself. The hypocrisy of the pale elf was not lost on Zenosyne- but she felt a sadness within him that left her both curious and patient. When he was ready, he would reveal his secrets.

It happened one day before they had gotten far past the blighted village beyond the Emerald Grove. There stood a man dressed in leather armour, looking fairly quaint but sure of himself. The man introduced himself as Gandrel.

“I am a Gur- a monster hunter, if you will.”

“Oh?” Astarion asked, leaning in just enough to insert himself between Zenosyne and the stranger. “You’re a monster hunter? I thought all Gur were vagrant cut throats… and what is it you’re hunting then? A beholder? A mimic?”

“Well, much worse than that. I’m hunting the lowest of foul creatures that stalk these lands.” He replied.

Zenosyne sniffed the air, it was thick with a metallic smell. In that moment she gagged, a terrible turn in her stomach- as though it were making every muscle inside her quake in revulsion. Whatever it was, there was more to her reaction than simply disgust at the scent.

“Pure iron” Gandrel said, knowing what it was that she had noticed. “Forgive me for the smell.”

“Iron? Are you looking to… kill a Faerie creature?” She asked between gasps.

Shadowheart turned her gaze to the green-haired “elf” that recoiled before her. She had questioned Zenosyne’s lineage before, and it was true that elves had very distant Faerie blood- but it was not so much that they would normally be averse to pure iron. Few creatures were.

“Not a faerie, no.” Gandrel continued, “A vampire spawn. A cunning, evil creature named Astarion.”

Instead of showing her surprise, Zenosyne remained calm. She would not give away her knowledge. She felt Astarion bristle next to her. Suddenly, it was as though an old instinct- one that she had not known she had, came to the surface of her conscious mind. However, she was kept at bay from the iron he wore as a putrid cologne.

“A monster hunter such as yourself should know better than to look for a vampire spawn in the broad daylight.” She said, then as if she were hypnotizing the Gur- she curled one finger towards herself, walking slowly towards the open water they had been following along. The river was gently moving, and she made certain to be upstream from the flow as she removed her heavy armour and stepped into the water. Dark green, almost black scales crawled up her skin like spiders crawling upwards on a web. She fell slightly in the water, letting the waves take her body a little. She turned and swam against the current with newfound vigor, like a salmon swimming upstream. A powerful fish-like tail manifested from the splashes.

Gandrel’s body turned slowly, his eyes unmoving from her form as she moved. With her back towards them, she turned to look over her bare shoulder.

“Come, now, and follow me down, follow me down, follow me down…” She sang.

He moved slowly, his face gently smiling at her call.

"Look how she's off on the town

She's off on a search for sailors though

There's fine fellas here to be found

She's never been one to stay at home"

His boots made contact with the water, and he waded in slowly- the iron dust flowing down offstream into the unknown. She held her hand up- palm facing him and he stopped his steps, face unchanging. She extended one finger outwards, and slowly pointed in front of her.

"Come now and follow me down,

Follow me down, follow me down,

There's fine sailors walking the town

And waiting to meet the ladies there"

Keeping the distance that she was enforcing, Gandrel walked around her. He moved downstream further and his dreadful aroma of pure iron washed away. She slowly let her pointed finger fall, and he followed it slowly beneath the rushing current.

"Stay here and never you mind

The lights of the town are blinding you

The sailors they come and they go

But listen to what's reminding you

Handsome men surrounding you

Dancing a reel around you"

She began to pull at an invisible force, and he swam towards her- the last of the iron on his person washing away. At his approach, she lifted her palms upwards and he rose from the water- eyes opening, face smiling.

She pulled him in closer- wrapping both arms around the monster hunter, and held him in a close embrace. The poor fool sighed as he rested into her comforting arms-

“She’s not some moon or sun elf” Shadowheart said, echoing her previous observations. All of their gazes were fixed on her strange power.

With one swift motion, she drew a dagger up into the air and brought it down upon his back.

Not a sound was heard, and he slumped slowly from her embrace into the water- blood mixing with the fresh, clear stream as it carried him away.

“She’s a siren.” Shadowheart whispered.

The waves carried Gandrel far from the party and out of view, and Zenosyne watched as he disappeared. Finally, she let out a sigh as if she had been holding her breath that whole time. Tension seemed to let go within her.

They did not see the dark figure hiding behind the trees, watching as her scaled slowly faded into flesh again. An old woman smiled to herself.

"Well, well" Astarion said, "Looks like someone has a little secret of their own. When exactly were you intending on sharing that little detail?"

Zenosyne dragged herself out of the river, understanding now what the purpose of her flowing light clothes had been all along- a way to keep quick in the water. Not weighed down by the weight of wool or velvet.

"Whenever I discovered that I had it" she said, her voice still low and melodic despite her song having ended.

"By the way" she added, picking up her armour, "I believe I may have been a siren before I was captured by the mindflayers."

"You don't say" Astarion mocked, but his face betrayed his amusement.

As they continued to walk there were whispers among the companions that Zenosyne could barely make out between the crunching leaves and sounds of the forest. She knew that the whispers were likely about her. They certainly didn't trust her now, if they had to begin with. She decided to leave the conversation about the revelation that had been made about both herself and Astarion at their meeting with the monster hunter. There was no need to address an already nebulous topic after such a day.

Finally, they stopped their whispers and their quiet steps when they came upon a rather dingy sheep.

"What are you doing? Are you far from home?" Zenosyne asked the sheep, hardly expecting a response at all. She went to walk past when the sheep said, "Baaa."

Everyone stood silently.

That was a rather human sounding "Baa" if any of them had every heard one. It was most certainly not from any old run-of-the-mill sheep.

They all waited in quiet anticipation, their hearts racing at the chilling realization. Zenosyne decided to keep up the facade, and echoed its call.

"Baaa" she responded.

The sheep seemed satisfied with this, and moved on from them. They all let out a collective breath of relief. They continued to move forward carefully and kept their eyes wide open, surrounded by "sheep" in the lush green grass. There was a beautiful clearing beneath a tree that shed small white apple blossoms in the wind.

"This is oddly calm" Gale whispered. "There's a dark hint of weave in the air." He dared say no more lest they be overheard by the "sheep" that watched them all too closely.

Upon a second glance, one of the suspicious creatures gnawed at an old wicker basket half open. A few apples were sitting sweetly inside, and a note accompanied them:

"Have a rest, on Auntie Ethel, dear"

"Was that there before?" Gale asked.

Zenosyne sighed, and dried herself in the warm sun beneath the sweet smelling apple tree.

"What a sweet old lady" She said, and reached out for one of the apples. "I'm famished."

With closed eyes she bit ferociously into the tempting apple. She chewed slowly, eyes meeting those of the others.

"Have you never learned not to take food from strangers?" Shadowheart asked.

"I... must hasten to agree with Shadowheart" Gale added quickly. "You never kn-"

Zenosyne hit the ground with a loud thud, and fell into a deep slumber.

"Know" Gale finished.

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loquaciousquark · 3 months

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about Shivstarion and Tavishstarion I think Shiv and Tavish would get along great, because honestly it's easy to get along with Shiv, but if you add their Astarions into the mix... a lot of posturing and knife-sharp smiles, I assume they're probably insisting they're completely different and obviously the superior version, while secretly worried the other is the 'better' version Tavishstarion probably look fancier/richer but maybe it'll go well (if Tav's Astarion doesn't say anything mean about Rosie the Bear)! Shiv will definitely offer them mushrooms. not sure why I'm choosing a tumblr ask to tell you this, arguably the worst way to communicate, but here you go

I was going to say something about "who would DARE say anything bad about Rosie" and then I remembered the only bear Tav's Astarion knows is Halsin. Probably the only bear he's seen in 200 years, too - I can't imagine there were many ursine targets being brought home to Cazador. Tav would smack him upside the head if he dared say one word, I swear.

Tavish & her Astarion definitely glitz out, though. They wear too many earrings and rings (unless they're working) and spend way too much money on clothes. I don't think they quite cross the line into ostentatious, but it's not exactly restrained either. Probably Shadowheart gives some derisive curl of her lip at the worst offenders and that keeps Tav leashed just this side of good taste.

Tavish would take Shiv's mushrooms and have a wonderful time, actually. Please give her mushrooms, she needs perspective desperately.

The image of the Astarions casually trying to one-up each other without APPEARING to one-up each other while also secretly thinking the other is beautiful and being irrationally jealous but also irrationally proud is making me laugh so hard. Oh no, it's too many Astarions. Too many!!

#quark replies #bettydice #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #tavish gale #shiv #quark plays bg3

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5mcsinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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Words: 7 335 Chapters: 2 Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence Relationships: Karlach/fem!Tav Characters: Karlach, Tav, Shadowheart, everyone else is present

Additional tags: Female Tav, Post-Game, the epilogue to be exact, Mild Gore, Blood, shouldn't be too descriptive I'm not a gore writer, Temporary Character Death, Burns, Mutilation, but like it's out of love you see, Murder as love language, Dubious Consent but not a sexual kind, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, there's one single passing drop of wyllstarion if you really squint, Barbarian Tav, Tiefling Tav, Named Tav, Heart removal (technically), Dubious surgery methods, Swearing

Summary:

"Trust me to kill you". or After losing many people in her life, Vice refuses to lose the woman she loves. However, she also can't force her to go back to Avernus. What she can do is, arguably, worse. (* - this fic has nothing to do with the movie of the same name, it's just an appropriate title as is.)

Note (for this post): Killing what you love as a literal manifestation of not being able to let go and simultaneous mutilation as a romantic bonding experience, anyone?

(also there's fluff at the end.)

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #karlach #female tav #karlach x tav #tavlach #cw gore #cw character death #stole the way to do fic posts from Anne 'cause I have zero idea what I'm doing #anyway I'm plagued by a vision and I just hope someone gets it #fic tag

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jahiera · 9 months

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I’ll grab my screencaps when I’m home but one of my favorite conversations just as a player is party post-goblin camp where you talk to Astarion and you tell him that he “saved lives,” to which he replies that (paraphrased) the scale of lives didn’t change, they just killed goblins for tieflings. It’s fairly offhanded and unaddressed beyond that, but it’s one of those little moments that reconciles with the violence the player did in such a minute way that I think about it all the time. Because leading up to destroying the goblin camp, and even after, we are fairly secure in our positions and our choices, we aren’t really given many causes to doubt ourselves in game as players. Killing the goblins feels like the better answer—and of course, arguably, it still is—but in the goblin camp you can do a lot of fairly shitty things without much blowback, because you’re doing them to people your companions don’t like or respect or see as valuable, as real lives in comparison to others.

And again, within the frame of everything, the goblin camp is as a whole fairly horrible, their plans and their behavior was horrible, but does it justify you thus reducing yourself to their level if you use your tadpole powers to degrade and belittle and destroy them? debatable! people still died! and it was, if you’re of the mind, necessary to save the more “innocent” tieflings. but it’s not like there werent children in the goblin camp too—children that you can kill, outright, and just breeze right past that with no doubts or questions or eyebrows raised. there’s an…. inconsistency of thought there in lots of the choices you can take and still feel good about (because of who you’re doing it to) that fascinates me because most of the actions in there feel fairly justified in the moment. they’re done to goblins, who are framed in such a way that it’s easy to decide they’re all evil and irredeemable. And the only person to really point that out—in such a manner and way that it’s clear this whole thing means nothing to him either way, he doesn’t care either, and maybe that makes it even more interesting, because Gale/Wyll/Shadowheart all feel pretty justified in what happened there—is Astarion. you just traded lives for lives. is there really glory in righteousness here for you. it feels like one tiny moment that really drives home what BG3 as a whole is going for in terms of subverting the expectations of your choices and being a “good guy” in fantasy rpgs and what your heroism actually is, if anything. because you won’t get out of this fully right no matter how much we can ends justify the means it. to save the tieflings it was necessary but maybe there isn’t a right answer, or at least not a perfect one.

#Like I love it so much!! it’s such a good fucking moment #This isn’t passing judgement by the way I’m genuinely just obsessed with the implications of it all #it’s that subtle little reminder that Player Justification is subdued. in the tiniest way.#You can continue to go on feeling good about this and arguably there are reasons to feel good #but! there’s that slight moment. where the reality of things is laid bare #you traded a life for a life — you didn’t preserve it. you decided who deserved to live and you took that choice #which is just … so interesting #there is no peaceful solution there’s only what you Chose to do #bg3 meta #🐌.txt

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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Honestly your blog is the only BG3 blog I check daily. (Dam you- for having me check tumblr everyday now)

Now for an ask. What do you think Selunite!Shadowheart- Were!shadowheart, Minthara and Gale (bonus Karlach) would react to a Dark Urge Tav who has apparently an insane questionable and despicable past (regarding the in game apparent sexual relation to Orin and necrophelia unfortunately, which mind blown from a player perspective)

- undecided anon

This actually means a lot to me that you're interested enough in my thoughts and writing to check it out every day <3 as much as it feals like I'm yelling into the void sometimes, it's nice to remember there are actual people on the other end in the void who are silently listening.

Thank you for telling me this, words genuinely fail me when it comes to describing how these small comments make me happy.

Now, mention of dark topics below cut

Including Necrophilia, Incest, Exhibition, Gore, Murder, Torture, Body fluids, Animal abuse, and Vivisections

Durge is genuinely unhinged. Through all the flashbacks and hints we see of their past through the game, one is more horrible than the last.

They dunked their butler's head into the open bladder of the guy they were preforming a vivisection on and choked him in their piss because he made a mistake. Source from the noblestalk flashback.

The sexual implications of their relationship with Gortash, a tyrant who killed and enslaved endless people. I don't recall the Orin implications but taking your words on it, it would kind of be considered incest since she is also a bhaalspawn. She is even a product of incest herself.

They have a long history of animal abuse and mistreatment, too. They aren't below preying on souls weaker than them. The cat on the rooftop in moonrise towers who mentions how Durge kicked her a lot, also the squirrel in act 1.

What they did to Alfira too.

Shadowheart, Minthara, and maybe arguably Karlach have a dark past. All of them have murdered and tortured people in the past.

Minthara

Minthara is the most extreme out of them. Not only did she participate in the cruel nature of drow culture, but also the fact she doesn't exactly see anything wrong with it. Yes, her crimes, her own crimes, not the ones she was brainwashed to commit, pale in comparison to Durge, but it still would make any sane good person turn away from her.

She doesn't react much to Durge's cruelty through the game. If anything, she encourages it and at times turned on by it. I don't think she would encourage Necrophilia and incest but those might be her only hard no. The rest like gore and turtore is not a deal breaker to her.

Minthara is the companion that Durge could be the most free with when it comes to following their dark urges. As long as they don't hold the knife to her own throat. She does think it is freaky and weird of Durge but she is used to freaky and weird from drow culture.

Her moral compass does exist. It's mostly evil. Her only deal breakers are when you betray her own trust, if you hurt other people she doesn't care.

She used to be in love with Orin, even worshipping her. Ingame. But Orin betrayed her trust so Minthara loathed her from that day on.

Although I have a feeling that she condems needless cruelty, sure, sate your appetite, but don't let it consume you. If you can't seize control over your own urges when it matters, then how are you any different from a frenzied mutt? Control yourself and prove to her you are a sane person and she will stay with you.

Shadowheart

Back in her Sharran days, she admits to torturing and breaking prople. She lied and manipulated do many people to get her way and to serve Shar.

It would be hypocritical of her to judge you on your past, no matter how much darker it is than hers in comparison. Especially a Selunite Shadowheart who would feel like she owes her life to you interference back at the nightsong confrontation.

But a Selunite Shadowheart wouldn't indulge your dark urges, she will only forgive your past. If you still seek bloodlust then either let her help you through it, or both of you can go your separate ways.

That's only after the ending tho, during your travel days, she will turn a blind eye to your gorey displays and chalk it up to the cruel road you've faced. She will give you the benfit of the doubt until the city is saved.

Her parents still had hope in her seeing the truth one day and waking up, so she tries to extend the same courtesy to you for as much as she can.

A Werewolf Shadowheart would fall into the same category if she had ended up a Selunite. Although being a werewolf and all, she will relate to your struggle more than normal Shadowheart ever could. She also has urges that steer her to darker thoughts and desires that she battles everyday, the two of you can get through this together.

Karlach

Now her case is...very speical. Technically, she committed no sins or crimes on her own because she was enslaved during her time fighting in the demon wars. Yet still she killed many, she has never developed an appetite for blood because of it.

She doesn't shy away from killing tho, it's an average everyday thing for her now. She will kill and fight if she had to in order to survive.

But, because she has lived among demons, even got almost close to befriending one, she has seen much worse than anything Durge could've ever done.

Incest and Necrophilia barely scratch the surface of what devils get down to. Let alone the humiliation and truely sickening things they force upon their victims. Karlach bared witness to all of that.

She wants Durge to change, not to end up like these devils. She reassures them that they are better than this, that they have the strength to change and not go down this disgusting road.

She isn't phased by it like Minthara, but unlike Minthara, she never endorsed or participated in the cruelty around her.

I think she'll have a heart to heart with Durge about it. Try to get them to see people as real people with souls and emotions, not just cattle for slaughter.

A single life is very precious, especially to someone like her who was robbed of their own life. She will never forgive Durge for robbing an innocent person out of their life.

But she would definitely freak out over the Gortash relationship thing, because more of personal reasons. You fell in love with that monster as he is? The same man who robbed her of her own heart and betrayed her trust? She would genuinely break down.

Gale

He is a very very speical case.

Gale is naive in a way. Not to infantilise him, but he tends to view the world through rose colored lenses. Part to being human, another part to having lived in the lap of luxury and privilege.

Gale saw the best of what the world had to offer, Gale fell in love with a zealous benevolent goddess who's good alligned, Gale was isolated in one of the richest cities in Faerun with rich scholars for friends.

Gale thought Minthara was just misunderstood when he met her.

He is aware of good and evil, he just has such a distorted view of evil that he never recognises it when it's face to face with him. He forgets that evil people can be charming, beautiful and funny and they might just be his own friends.

In his world view, he is good, therefore anything and everything he interacts with willingly must be good.

He is delusional.

And it doesn't help that life and sheer luck only encouraged his delusions, only soldified his views that bad people can be quelled by ordering everyone a shot at the tavren and that no one truly would wish to harm someone else given the chance right?

He will make endless excuses for Durge's past. So many far-fetched justifications to fit you into the box of good people he keeps in his orbit.

That is, if Durge never confronts him with their present urges to still participate in bloodshed.

Otherwise he will just downplay your confessions of guilt and brush off your unsettling comments. Always going the extra mile to give you all the benfits to the doubt.

Unless you make him face the cold truth reality in the form of a slaughtered grove of innocent people.

Even then, while he particpated, his delusions still make excuses for you, telling him there must be a reason for all of this, he just has to have faith in you.

Ans in the aftermath when it's just him and you, kneedeep in gore at camp. He revolts at the sight of you, sneers and glares into your face. Fully blaming everything on YOU. That YOU must be corrupting him, fully driving his agenda that he is good and will always be good! It's you who is responsible for his own actions.

It's also these delusions of him being a good person that inflate his ego enough to let him persure the crown of Karsus, that makes him think he is beyond the corruption of greed while simultaneously blaming any and all of his actions that he doesn't like onto Durge and saying they must've corrupted him.

He isn't just ignorant, he is choosing to remain ignorant.

Durge can manipulate a power hungry Gale into staying with them even while they openly bathe in the remains of corpses. If they feed into his delusions.

#♡dark content #♡Gale #♡karlach #♡Minthara #♡Shart #♡wereshart #♡selunite shart #♡character study #♡undecided anon

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benevolentcalamity · 6 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 Companions: An updated perspective.

Gale: Could also get away with being called Brian. Mans has the most red flags in the entire game. And why do I say that? WELL, would you want a guy that talks about his ex all the time and would explode if you didn't romance him? Not sure what the deal is there but I dunno if I have what I need to handle all that. His sorcery is cool though, I'd fuck him for lessons.

Karlach: Literally the biggest golden retriever energy in literally any game I've seen these past few years. Seriously, you could tell her "Well... I could go with you, cause I have nothing better to do" and she'd be like "Not because you want to?" With these massive puppy eyes. Wish they did more with her character, because a purehearted person of her race? GOOD LORD I EAT UP THAT SHIT. Karlach, please marry me

Astarion: More red flags. But here's the thing, he's honest and upfront that he's toxic and full of absolute crap. Arguably though he has the most well-done story of, again, any game I've played these past few years. From how he's slowly unlearning the toxicity of 200 years of PURE SHIT, to managing to open his heart up to Tav, to the agonized, broken cries upon killing Cazador if you choose the Spawn ending. Legitimately, this is when 'I can fix him' comes true - mans is wonderful... After all the other stuff. (Please do not drop the building on him or kick him in the balls.)

Shadowheart: Imma be upfront, I hated her guts in Early Access. She's the kind of person I'd hatefuck and move on, cause ain't no way I'm associating with followers of Shar. HOWEVER, they did good giving her a redemption arc. She's still annoying and quite frankly not the greatest traveling buddy, but I can stomach her way more. (So maybe we'd be doing it.)

Lae'zel: I loved you in early access bb, and I still do. Literally, the Githyanki are savage and coldhearted by nature and their culture, so you can't exactly blame Lae'zel for just echoing what she knows. On the other side of the coin everything she's done and said was out of the kindness of her heart. She wants you cured in the only way she knows, and she wants what's best. So, if you dare bring your hatred for her in my askbox, be prepared to catch these hands. THOU DOTH NOT WANT THESE HANDS.

Minthara: Respectfully, ma'am, I don't vibe. Drow elves are sexy. What's not sexy is trying to kill me in my sleep, trying to get me to give in to the evil force inside me, etc etc etc. Also, what happened to your fluffy hair in early access? Girl that's your one redeeming quality. Can understand trust issues though, that I'd be willing to get you help with if you'd stop trying to murder me. Seriously, I love a woman that will actually just kill me, but some of us don't wanna meet our dads yet. (Ha... ha... ha...)

Halsin: ... Oh, so THIS is the bear man... Ngl man, I'm digging it. Man is big so he definitely gives wonderful hugs. Probably cuddly as a big bear, too! Would fuck Halsin, would not fuck him as the bear. Some of you might call me a coward, but MONSTERS are my jam, not actual animals. Y'all can do as you please, though. But generally, this man is probably the sweetest big man. Huge arms? Check. Gentle personality? Check. Would kill a person for killing a child? Check and mate.

Wyll: Still don't know your deal, man, and quite frankly I'm too afraid to ask.

Emperor: ... Aren't mindflayers cold, heartless beings that reproduce by putting tadpoles in your brain? They don't have dicks, right? Does someone wanna fill me in? ... I don't know what the deal is here.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 #baldur’s gate #bg3 astarion #bg3 halsin #bg3 karlach #bg3 wyll #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 gale #bg3 minthara #baldurs gate 3

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drhu0806 · 6 months

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Oh here's a fun game: rate the BG3 companions (and your player character too if you so choose) on what you think their spice tolerance/spice threshold are (in my case, I interpret spice tolerance as how well you react to the heat whereas spice threshold is how hot one can go before they feel something or start reacting poorly)

My thoughts:

Lae'zel: very high tolerance, mid to low threshold. The latter is very debatable because I don't know what githyanki eat wherever they are. I'm just going off the assumption that maybe they don't devote a lot of time to cultivating spices and herbs, though I think githyanki would be up for spice challenges. Overall grade is very high on the scale in spite of relatively low threshold because my girl is a tough son of a bitch and she can sweat almost anything out no problem

Shadowheart: high tolerance, mid to low threshold. Again, I don't know what Sharrans eat generally so threshold is arguable. Could it be used as a torture implement? Sure. But I like to imagine people who eat spicy food like to enjoy life and have some fun, which Sharrans... don't seem to have. Overall grade: below Lae'zel, but in the same general bin

Astarion: THE LOWEST ON THIS LIST. LOW TOLERANCE, LOW THRESHOLD. WE DON'T EVEN NEED TO DISCUSS THIS. NEXT QUESTION.

Gale: low tolerance, mid to low threshold. Man doesn't even like eating vegetables. How the fuck can he handle a habenero? He edges out above Astarion but is that really an accomplishment? EDIT: I have been notified that in the romance he talks about liking spicy food--along with a very funny comment involving spice and his mother--so I am upgrading him to high average on the scale, with high tolerance, mid threshold. Congrats Gale you are so damn lucky to have a lawyer as your fan

Wyll: mid to high tolerance, mid to low threshold. He's tough to judge; I'm willing to put him in the same bin as Shadowheart at his highest. Again, I don't know what he regularly ate growing up; he was a Duke's son so he probably had access to more diverse foods than the average citizen, but do the nobility regularly eat spice? Who can say? In the end I would put him solidly in the middle ranking, but this can change.

Karlach: HIGHEST ON THE LIST. Very high tolerance, high threshold. Would probably be one of those people who would eat two Carolina Reapers in that challenge for the lulz. Do I think she would still feel it? Yeah. But would she take it like a champ? Absolutely.

Halsin: high tolerance, mid to low threshold. This one's tough, the threshold especially, very arguable. But I want to believe in him because the man is 350+ years old, he's been around, he's seen some shit, probably eaten a lot of different kinds of stuff in his travels. I believe he could absolutely sweat it out at the very least. Middle of the pack.

Minthara: high tolerance, high threshold. I'm gonna be real, I've never recruited her so these are all off of general impressions but I mean come on. I would put her second only to Karlach.

Jaheira: mid tolerance, mid threshold. I feel like in BG1 and 2 she probably would have had a higher ranking, but she is older now and I know from personal experience sometimes you get to an age where you just can't eat the same kind of stuff you did when you were younger. Middle of the pack again, I'd put her with Wyll.

Minsc: I have no idea. Mid to high tolerance, mid to low threshold? I definitely think he could sweat it out well but who knows how hot the hamster man can go? I'm gonna put him in average because I'm just HMMMM???

My Tav, Kainé: high tolerance, high threshold, because I am incapable of making a character anything else I guess. Not as high on the ranking as Karlach and Minthara, but probably around Lae'zel's place because spicy food was just a staple growing up for her. She'd probably shed tears if she had a Caroline Reaper or ghost pepper but she would absolutely still go for it if she had to to prove a point.

#what does the owl say #baldur's gate 3 #when you're an astarion fan but you gotta be realistic about your man LOL

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