#tiefling x aasimar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

percki · 1 month

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on my knees

tags: 18+, mature content, MDNI, Gale x reader, f!Tav, 2nd person pronouns, act 3, semi-public sex, porn w/o plot, lap dance, explicit consent, bondage, restraints, dom/sub, switch Gale, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lap sex, hand jobs, overstimulation, orgasm denial, praise kink

ao3 link

“Urgh.” Rolan stands up, wiping a smear of Lorroakan’s blood off the sleeve of his robes. “Your aasimar friend is… violent.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess, Rolan. We can clean everything up –” You glance around the upper level of the tower, at the holy fire, congealed mud, pasty mixture of water and ash, and a fair amount of blood. At the wizard’s broken body, his face swollen with bruises, his mouth agape, sprawled at the foot of his throne of books. “– Um, but it might take a while.”

Rolan waves one long-nailed hand in your direction, his discolored face grateful – if not a bit exasperated. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. You have already done so much for me – consider my debt forgiven, and all will be well.” You smile at that, watching the tiefling wizard grunt with exertion as he hauls Lorroakan’s body towards the portal. “And, erm – help yourself to any treasures you come across, of course. I’ll be… downstairs…” He pushes the corpse through the shimmering portal, and sends you one last earnest, sharp-toothed smile over his shoulder. “...Burying a body.”

With that, Rolan pushes up the sleeves of his robes (sorcerer’s robes, trimmed in silver, unbefitting for a wizard, but they suit him well nonetheless) and steps through the portal, no doubt bracing himself to break the news to his new employees. ‘Hey, so remember those adventurers that just came in? They killed Lorroakan, violently, and I’m your boss now. Surprise!’ You’re sure the staff at Sorcerous Sundries have endured worse surprises; working for Lorroakan sounds akin to an eternity of torture in the Hells.

Aylin sheathes her sword and crosses over to you, removing her helmet. Her ash-blonde hair spills over her shoulders, and her gold-streaked face glistens with blood and sweat. “I shall be at your camp, if you have need of me,” she declares, and inclines her head in gratitude. “You fought well – as you have before. I remain thankful for your assistance.” Less wordy than usual – Lorroakan’s death must be weighing on her. You don’t blame her.

“Thank you, Dame Aylin,” you say, and bow in respect. She smiles at that, silver eyes gleaming.

“Ooh, wait!” Karlach runs up to you, her arms full of wine bottles – no doubt pilfered from Lorroakan’s hidden stash. The woman has a nose for alcohol – she could find a bottle of Baldur’s Grape blindfolded, disoriented, in the middle of a rainstorm. Shadowheart is close behind, a new cloak slung over her shoulders and a fair amount of gold filling her pockets. “We’ll probably go back to camp, too – Fringe and I have to try all this wine.”

“To make sure it isn’t poisoned,” Shadowheart adds, green eyes twinkling with humor. “You can handle yourselves without us, can’t you?”

You grin. “Save a bottle of Mermaid Whiskey for me.”

“Blech. You can have it all.” Karlach sticks out her split tongue, her smile wide. “See ya!” She bolts through the portal head-first: dangerous, with the amount of alcohol in her arms and the fiery infernal engine in her chest. You hear a distant crash, and wince.

Shadowheart follows close behind, calling, “Save the Tyche Pink!”

You hear the rush of wings and look over – Aylin is gone, too, a flash of silver in the clear blue sky. You watch her fly, the wind buffeting her white wings – deva-like, altogether unnatural, inhuman, beautiful in an untouchable, deadly, frightening way – as she soars. The sunlight seems to collect around her, like a remnant of her celestial mother’s power lingers, still, even after the heat and rage of battle is done.

“And then there were two.”

Gale’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up, meeting his eyes. Dark brown, deep, gentle, shining with a light all too familiar. He’s standing by the throne of books, his right hand resting on a copy of Folktales of Faerún: The Angelic Aasimar.

You kneel over the ashes of the water myrmidon, sifting through the remains for treasure. Nothing. “I suppose Rolan will take a while…” You look around the tower once more, keen eyes picking out chests, display cases, bookshelves – anything that could hide a nice new set of robes for Gale, or a dagger for Astarion, or perhaps some armor for Wyll… “Will you cast Feather Fall? I want to look on the lower levels…” You trail off, reading something in Gale’s eyes. His fingers flex on the spine of the book, his shoulders thrown back, his lilac robes fitting his form well. Is he… posing? You smile and straighten, dusting ash off your sleeves, and move to his side, twining your left arm with his right, leaning comfortably against his side. “The Annals are in the vaults,” you say, knowing his primary objective here, halfheartedly attempting to lift his spirits. Thoughts of the Crown are dangerous – you have seen how easily the lure of power can corrupt, a thousand times (with Kagha in the Emerald Grove, with Minthara at the goblin camp, with Ketheric and Gortash and now Lorroakan). But despite your reservations, you know his ambition fuels him, that it drives his fire, that thoughts of greatness and respect do raise his spirits. “We could go down ourselves…”

Gale turns into you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his beard scratching at your neck. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, and sighs deeply, inhaling your scent – blood and smoke and sweat, and the faintest hints of his cologne lingering on your skin. “I… Not yet,” he says vaguely, and kisses your neck again, deeper this time. Your breath hitches as he trails long, searing kisses up your neck, along the line of your jaw, leading up to your lips.

“Gale…” You whisper, voice low. “I –” He nips at your bottom lip, smiling against your chin, and you can feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says devilishly, oak eyes sparkling, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “I can’t believe…” He blinks, as if waking from a dream, and cradles your jaw with his hand, straightening to his full height.

You kiss him, this time, tasting blood on his lips, and you stop, examining his face carefully. A bruise is forming at the bridge of his nose, blood tracing a path down the apex of his lips to his chin. You frown, brow creasing in worry. “You’re hurt.”

“Hm?” Gale touches his face gingerly, delicate, careful fingers prodding the quickly-purpling skin. “Oh. Yes. That. It’s quite alright –”

“It’s not alright,” you reply. “Let me heal you.” You take his shoulders in your hands and guide him into a seated position on Lorroakan’s throne, his back reclined against a collection of Ramazith’s annotated tomes. You kneel before him, positioning yourself between his legs, and summon a simple healing incantation, your hand hovering over his nose, the blue glow of the spell reflected in his eyes. “Te curo,” you murmur, and watch as his skin knits itself together, blood drying, swelling fading, the bruise vanishing beneath your fingers. “Better?”

“Better,” he admits, and looks at you with intent in his eyes, his gaze dark and focused on your features. “My love,” he starts, then hesitates. His face turns a delicious shade of pink.

“Yes?” You lean forward, hanging onto his words. He adjusts his legs, his thighs bracketing your shoulders, and you feel the slightest thrill at your compromising position, you in your armor and him in his robes, you kneeling before him like a supplicant at an altar.

“Rolan may not return for some time,” Gale says. “We could…” He stops again, biting his lip.

You guess his meaning immediately – your thoughts are remarkably in-tune. You can’t deny that you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t wished for… Well. For Gale. Your peaceful nights since arriving in the Lower City have been few and far between, interrupted as they are: by vampires, by nightmares, by Orin’s ministrations. It’s been some time since you and Gale had time to yourselves.

And now, it seems, you have all the time in the world.

“Do you want to?” You question, and his eyes darken, his pupils expanding infinitesimally. You lean forward, cupping his cock with your hand, and smile to feel him already half-hard beneath your touch.

“I – yes,” he breathes, and raises his hand to cast Mage Hand, the incantation on his lips, when you catch him by the wrist, holding him still.

“No magic,” you say breathlessly, and straighten back up to your full height, smiling down at him. “As mortals do, remember?”

Gale watches you intently as you undo the first few buckles of your armor, leather slipping between your fingers. He sits up, reaching out his hands to help –

And you push him back.

“Don’t move,” you warn him, and plant one hand securely on his chest, holding him in place, as you draw a piece of silken fabric out of your pack. You hold it up for him to see, and upon realizing your intention, his eyes widen, pupils expanding impossibly wide. “Do you want this?” You ask, and he confirms with a nod of his head. You narrow your eyes and lean in, your face centimeters away from his, your breath ghosting on his lips. “Say it, please, love.”

He swallows thickly, eyes locked on yours, and says, his voice a rumble in his chest, “I want you to tie me up.”

You smile, and reward him with a bruising, biting kiss. “Good boy,” you murmur, and relish the way his face reddens, his jaw going slightly slack at the praise. “Lean forward for me?” He acquiesces, already holding his hands behind his back, and you climb up into his lap to twine the silk around his wrists, your touch featherlight and gentle. You test the knot, and smile. Not too tight – but he certainly won’t get any ideas about spellcasting. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yes,” he says into your shoulder, his voice muffled by the layers of your armor. You stand back up and step completely out of your clothes, metal buckles and buttons clinking as your many layers fall to the floor, and then you stand before Gale in your undergarments, your skin rising with goosebumps from the cool air, his eyes roving a path up and down your figure.

You feel a little warm from the intensity of his gaze, but you steel your nerves and continue. You reach out with your senses, using the knowledge of the Weave that Gale taught you of so long ago, and you can feel a soft tinkling at the edge of your perception, the distant sound of music, and you pull it towards you. In one of the pleasure dens far below, a slow, sensual number starts up, and you filter the sound through the available space, filling the tower with music.

Gale’s lips part as he realizes your plan. “Love,” he starts, “I haven’t –”

You feel a twinge of self-doubt, standing there near-nude before a man who is completely clothed. You have no experience with this whatsoever – apart from what you have read and seen – and you’re not sure that Gale loves you enough to forgive you if you make a total ass of yourself. “This is okay, right?” You rush to ask, holding your hands out for his before realizing that he’s still tied. You tuck them behind your back, straightening your posture. “Um – I know this is probably unusual, but, you know, in the Quarta Sune –”

Gale grins, his dimples making a rare appearance, and the sight of it pulls at your heartstrings. “You are perfect,” he promises, lifting his dark eyes up to your face. “This is perfect. Please, keep going.”

The slight rasp of his voice goes straight to your core, and you step forward before you’re entirely conscious of your movements, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He leans into you with a groan, and you can feel his shoulders move, his hands resisting the bindings, and you pull back. “No touching,” you say softly, “right? This is about you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his expression adorably resentful, and you laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Later,” you promise, and with that, you stand up, and turn away from him, facing the windows, the setting sun illuminating your skin. The music restarts, strings amping up, and you sway your hips to the tune, letting instinct take over. One, two, three, you breathe, feeling the rhythm run through you, and as the music crescendos, you drop down onto Gale’s lap, your ass just brushing over his thighs, hoping your undulating body looks sensual rather than spasmodic, and your efforts are rewarded with a delicious, blinding groan from behind you. You turn back around to face him – one, two, three – and lean in close, your scent intoxicating, his body warming your skin, and bracket his legs with your knees, one hand carding through his hair and the other slowly unbuttoning his robes, your knuckles barely brushing the velvet-soft hair on his chest. You slide your hands down the planes of his torso, and then, just as he’s leaning forward, again, anticipating your lips on his –

You step back again, turning, lifting your hands over your head and letting your hair down, smiling to yourself as you peek over your shoulder at his exasperated face. One, two, three. You let your ass ghost over his lap again, closer this time, holding there for a few moments longer than he considers tolerable, and just as his patience goes and his hips buck, you return to your starting position, looking down at him chidingly.

“Please,” he whispers, and you raise your brows, your hands going to the clasp of your bra. He watches, rapt, as you slide the fabric off your breasts and let it fall to the ground atop your discarded armor, your nipples peaking in the cool air. You repeat the motion with your panties, and you’re sure Gale catches sight of the soaked fabric as you toss it aside: his face turns a flattering shade of crimson, his arms straining against his silken ropes.

“How can I deny you?” You say, and with smooth, uninterrupted movements, you slide onto his lap, rocking your hips back and forth, tantalizingly slow, atop him. His robes slip open completely, and you can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his undergarments, barely brushing against the skin of your thighs. Your hands roam along the skin of his chest, thumbs swirling careful circles in the dips of his collarbone and shoulders, your palms warm against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praise him, and lean forward to kiss along the line of his clavicle, then slowly up his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, tasting his sandalwood cologne, his soapy shaving cream, the sweat and salt lingering there, your tongue pulsing against his jaw. “So good for me,” you continue, running your hands through his hair, “you’re perfect, Gale.”

And then, surprising him, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees, slotting your body perfectly in between his legs, and in one swift motion, you free his aching cock from his undergarments and lean forward once more, fitting your lips around the head.

“O-oh,” he moans, straining to keep still as you take him deeper, your hands tracing patterns on the skin of his thighs, reaching up to his hips, your nails scratching lightly, and then, as you adjust yourself and push him back so as to get more leverage, you wrap one hand around his shaft and devote the other one to palm gently at his balls, still a touch too gentle. “Mmm – more,” he sighs, and you obey, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and then fitting it back in your mouth, deep enough to brush the back of your throat, pre-cum salty on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, looking up at him through lowered lashes, and his mouth falls open, releasing the most pleasurable moans and groans, sighs and mewls slipping between his lips, chanted noises that may be words – you catch the sound of your name, and please, and yes, in the chorus of sounds that escape his chest, rising and falling in octave with every swipe of your tongue and bob of your head. “P-please,” he says again, “please, let me –”

You guess his meaning, and reach behind him; the movement sending his cock to the very back of your throat, and his back arches in pleasure; and pull the strings of his bindings, untying his hands. The moment he’s free, he takes your head in his hands, cradling your jaw, and lets his fingers twine in the strands of your hair as you suck with renewed eagerness, sliding back nearly completely only to take him in fully again, the feel of his cock in your mouth dizzying, intoxicating, sending white-hot shivers through your body –

You glance down, and through the haze of pleasure, through the shadows of sunset, through the sweat and slick on your body, you see a flash of blue cupping your cunt, and you can suddenly feel the gentle, not-quite-there brush of the Mage Hand’s fingers against your clit. You war between pleasure and indignation for a moment – and indignation wins. You pull back, Gale’s weeping cock inches away from your mouth but still suspended in midair, and he huffs, putting his hands over his eyes, his pleasure cut short just on the path to climax. “Why did you –”

“No magic,” you repeat, and you can feel the Mage Hand dissolve. Gale peeks out from through his fingers, caught, and not the least bit ashamed. “Do I need to tie you up again? Completely, this time?”

“I –” His cock twitches, beads of precum leaking from the tip, stunning the both of you into silence.

You let a devilish grin slide across your face. “Oh. You want me to tie you up, love? Top to tip, completely trussed up for me?” You pull away from him and reach in your pack for more ribbon. “Red or purple, my sweet?”

Gale manages an arrogant smile, his face still flushed red. “Purple, of course.”

“Good choice,” you grin, and stand, running the ribbons through your hands reverently. “This will only take a minute,” you promise. “Why don’t you take those bothersome clothes off before I get started?”

He does, and you let your eyes run over his figure appreciatively for a minute before going to work. Hands on the ‘arms’ of the throne, the ribbon secured around a stack of encyclopedias. His legs against the respective ‘legs’ of the throne, straining slightly against his bonds. You stand before him, and he angles his hips up slightly, his eyes pleading.

“So cooperative,” you murmur, running your hands gently up his thighs. “So patient. So good.” You lift your hand to your mouth and spit on your fingers, holding eye contact, and he breathes shakily as you wrap your hand around his cock, leaning forward, mouthing kisses along his neck and collarbone. You start slowly, tantalizingly, pumping your hand along his length with a careful, measured speed that makes Gale’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Please – more,” he moans, his lips chasing yours. “Faster.”

You acquiesce, moving quicker, twisting your wrist the way you know that he likes. His breaths come faster, too, a mindless stream of yes and please and more coupled with your name falling from his mouth. You kiss him with bruising intensity, feeling his cock twitch in your fingers, his body straining against his bonds.

He comes with a muffled yell, his eyes rolling completely back in his head, and you kiss him fiercely as his come paints your stomach and thighs where you sit atop him. “Please – gods – please, untie me, let me –”

You smile against his lips and loosen the ribbons, yelping when his arms encircle you with surprising strength, lifting you up by your thighs and laying you out on the tile floor of the tower, the ground cold on your skin, your head canted back as Gale trails kisses down your thighs. “Ah – Gale,” you sigh as his fingers whisper up the inside of your legs, your skin rising with goosebumps. “I can’t –” You try to lift your head, to see where he is and what he’s doing, but your neck won’t cooperate. “What –”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale murmurs into your thigh, his hand lifting your leg to his lips, his beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “There’s only so long I can go without magic, my love. I thought –” Here, his tongue slides up to your cunt, tracing around your lips gently, and you moan, your boneless body arching in pleasure. “I thought you might enjoy feeling how I felt. Constrained. At my mercy.” His tongue winds a circle around your clit, and your breaths come faster, your thighs shaking madly. “Do you?”

“Do I – ah – what?”

“Enjoy it,” Gale says into your cunt, and the vibration makes you shudder.

“I – yes, I – please, I want to touch you, I want to –”

“Mmm,” Gale hums, his tongue working careful, restrained circles around your clit, dipping down to taste your slick. “Not yet.”

It’s been less than two minutes, and you’re already shaking, riding high, your eyes unfocused, as Gale takes you apart with his tongue. The painted constellations of the ceiling dance in and out of focus, and your moans echo around the circular tower, a mix of yes and please and Gale falling from your mouth, a reminder of the way you coaxed Gale’s orgasm from him with delicate fingers not five minutes before. “Gale, I – oh, gods, I can’t – please, I want to see you, I –”

The spell breaks, and you lift your head to see Gale’s face completely buried in your cunt, his sweaty hair spread out on your thighs, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and the image is enough to send you over the edge, a scream in your throat, your legs shaking wildly as you come, Gale’s tongue still working at you gently, until the sensation is too much and you kick him softly, signaling get off me, because your vocal cords aren’t working at the moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and crawls up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and heady. “But we should probably go before Rolan comes back. I suspect we won’t have an opportunity to take advantage of his hospitality again.”

“Gale…” You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, your eyes fluttering shut. “You might have to Dimension Door us out of here. I don’t think my legs will move.”

“I’ll carry you,” he smiles, and helping you stand, he laces his robes back up and aids you in buckling your armor. “Now come. There’s a bath at the Elfsong that’s calling my name.”

You sigh softly, leaning your head into his shoulder, and watch dreamily as he conjures the portal. “Wait – what about the Annals?”

“Oh.” Gale looks down at the lower levels of the tower. “I suppose we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looks almost downcast, but then the expression fades, and he’s just Gale again, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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Fallen in Flame (AO3) Raphael x f!Aasimar!reader

Horns and Halos (AO3) Raphael x female! Aasimar OC

NEW:

Dinner Date | Raphael x Gn!reader

Sandwiched | Raphael x Haarlep x f!reader smut

Tail Talk | Raphael x Gn!Tiefling reader

Ridges | Raphael x gn!reader smut

Teaching the Devil how to smut | Raphael x f!oc

Ripples | Raphael x gn!reader bathing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Hold Monster"| Raphael x int8 Tav

Annoying Raphael INT 8 Tav

Tav accidentally falls into the House of Hope

Intelligence 8 Tav x Intelligence 14 Raphael

Drunk Drabble | Raphael x reader (gn)

Raphael teaches difference between demon and devil

Horn Balm | Raphael x gn!reader

Soothe the Devil | Raphael x gn!Tiefling reader

Curled Atop Raphael to Thaw | Raphael x Reader

Cambion Cuddles | Raphael x reader

Infernal cuddles | Raphael x reader (gn)

Wearing His Shirt | Raphael x reader

Raphael's reaction to genuine affection from Tav

Raphael gets a lil surprise smooch from Tav

Love | Raphael x reader

I Hate That I Love You | Raphael x reader/Tav

Your Lips, My Supper | Raphael x f!reader (drabble)

His Muse | Patron!Raphael x reader (gn)

Masquerade | Raphael x reader

Posession | Raphael x Tav (female)

Marriage Contract | Raphael x reader (gn)

Artist!reader x Raphael with Haarlep guest appearance

The Devil's Bard | Raphael x Tav (gn)

Descent to Cania, to rescue your cambion | Raphael x reader

Cat and Mouse | Raphael x reader (gn)

Raphael drafts his villain song| GN Tav

Raphael is Tav's Fiend Patron

Thirst | Raphael x f!pregnant!reader

Thirst Pt 2

Overstimulation | Raphael x gn!reader

Smutty Snuggles | Raphael x reader (gn)

Gagged | Raphael smut blurb

Master of the Mouse | Raphael x f!reader x Haarlep SMUT

Inferna Victoria | Raphael x reader (ft. Haarlep)

Knot | Raphael x f!reader SMUT

50 Shades of Devil | Raphael x reader

Frozen Contract | Raphael x reader

Aftermath by @loveless-nameless-graceless-two

Down by the River by @unreadpoppy

Tongue by @breadandbloodybutter

The Devil You Share a Room With by @djmorn

You and Your Devil at the Circus by @red-dead-sakharine

Devil and His Eager Pup by @dark-and-kawaii

Tav is in Danger, Raphael Saves Her by @sky-kiss

Devour by @adarlingmess

Sweetening the Deal by @adevilyoudo

OTHER:

BG3 characters w/ virgin reader

Glimpses | sneak peaks into Tav x BG3 characters

I Want to Live | Astarion x reader

BG3 companions on Halloween date

My Heritage post (will include in my will)

#raphael x reader #masterlist #raphael bg3 #fanfic #raphael x tav #raphael baldur's gate 3 #cambion companion

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baldurs-simp · 8 months

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Un-Holy (Astarion x Aasimar!Reader)

Summary: Your heritage comes out in the midst of a battle, leaving you to confess your past to Astarion, whom you have developed a strong relationship with.

Warnings: strong language, mild spoilers, aasimar!reader, fluff, written at the spur of the moment while slightly tired, a bunch of rambling in the beginning but shit goes down later on

MY MASTERLIST

You have gone years without a fight until you woke up on the Mind Flayer ship with a tadpole behind your eye. Now, you cannot go a day without fighting for your survival after the ship crashed somewhere near Baldur’s Gate. You are not alone in the fight, however, having met some companions along the way who all share the same affliction you do; the threat of becoming a Mind Flayer.

The first you met was a Gith, Lae’zel, on the ship before it fell, then a Cleric of Shar, Shadowheart. The two don’t see eye to eye, but they keep the peace well enough to not cause a fight within the camp at night. Then you meet the rogue, Astarion, whom you later find out is a vampire after he tried to drink your blood in your sleep. How he’s able to walk in the sun without burning to a crisp is a mystery to everyone, but you think you could be because of the tadpole lurking around in his head. Or perhaps it is the work of the Guardian that visits you in your dreams.

Then you met the wizard from Waterdeep stuck in his portal, Gale. He has his issues. An orb sits in his chest, waiting to explode if it is not sated with magical-infused objects. You normally allow him to consume items that would otherwise be of no use to you. Items that grant you spells that you can already cast. Items useless to you, but not to Gale.

Wyll you had met after defeating a group of goblins that tried to enter the Emerald grove. Meeting him spurred your quest to help the Tieflings being kicked out by the druids. You plan on clearing the way for them, getting rid of goblins that might attack them west of the Blighted Village. Wyll had his quest to hunt down a devil, whom you found, Karlach.

Karlach is nothing like what Wyll had described and they finally came to a consensus to not kill each other. The tiefling that fought in the Blood Wars was only enlisted against her will. And she now joins your party in search of a cure for the Mind Flayer tadpoles.

You feel as if you know everyone in your party, and know somewhat about their past from what they shared with you after bunking down for nights while on the road. Yet, they don’t know a thing about your past. They don’t know who you truly are, or what you really are. But sometimes you think it’s for the better.

Battling the Hobgoblin leader, Dror Ragzlin proves to be a difficult fight. With the majority of your companions looking rough and the fight still raging on, you can’t help the necrotic energy bubbling up inside of you. You have to let it out.

Planting your feet firmly into the ground beneath you, you let out a fierce cry as ghostly skeletal wings sprout out from your back. A necrotic shroud falls over you, turning foes close to you around in fear. Your eyes turn into black pools as your gaze falls on Ragzlin, letting him know that he is your target.

The fight is quickly won after that and you drop your celestial facade, helping up Gale and healing him of his wounds. “Well, I didn’t know we had an Aasimar in our party,” Shadowheart mentions, causing you to turn your head towards her and see that everyone else stands behind her, staring at you in awe and curiosity.

“Let’s just find Halsin and get out of here,” you quickly say, walking past them without so much as making eye contact with them.

“Woah, woah, we’re not gonna talk about how fucking cool that was?” Karlach mentions as the party follows you, stepping over goblin corpses as you briskly walk toward the exit.

“There’s nothing to talk about so let’s not mention it. This is just something I can do just as you can go into a rage,” you say over your shoulder, pushing the heavy oak door open, shoving the piercing gazes you feel on your back from your companions. You sigh, knowing that they will pester you if you don’t tell them what they want to hear. “Look, it's a long story, okay. I come from a celestial background. It’s no different than Lae’zel coming from a Githyanki background. We all come from somewhere and none of us has pestered anyone about it, so why should it be different with me?” you question, turning around to face them. So, can we please leave it at that, find the druid, and get out of this place?”

From the tone of your voice, they can tell that your heritage is a sensitive topic. And they know you’re right. Everyone has their past and they are free to disclose as much as they want. It prevents tension from rising in camp. So, they suck it up, leaving your story to their imagination. Until you’re comfortable telling them.

Astarion, on the other hand, is not one to let things go. He thinks that he deserves to hear your story after he told you what happened to him and how he became a vampire spawn. Not to mention that you and him have become somewhat close. After all, you do allow him to feed off of you at night when he needs to. That creates quite a bond if he must say so himself.

As night draws near, everyone tends to themself to rest after a long day of slaying foes in the desecrated temple of Selune. You keep to yourself, not wanting to be involved in conversation as you fear that someone will bring up what happened to you in the fight. It’s a conversation you don’t wish to have.

You sit by the edge of the lake, looking up at the stars, lost in thought and memory. You don’t even hear the footsteps approaching you from behind as you stare at the twinkling lights illuminating the sky.

“There you are,” Astarion’s voice calls, pulling you out of your thoughts and back down to earth as he sits beside you on the ground. “I had thought that perhaps you had flown off.”

It was meant to be a joke and you know that. But it does not make you laugh or smile. Instead, you sigh heavily and glance down at your feet. “If only. Unfortunately, my wings are incapable of flight,” you state, looking back up at the water lapping at the shore. “They never used to be, you know. Gods, I used to be so fast, flying between clouds like a blur. Now, I can remember what it’s like,” you say, smiling to yourself as you recall a memory of being in the sky.

Astarion has his eyes fixed on your face, taking in your smile, something that rarely comes across your face since he’s met you. “What happened?” he asks, tentatively and in a whisper.

“I fell in love with someone I wasn’t supposed to,” you say, shaking your head in shame. “I fell in love with a devil. He was charming and cunning and I was cast out from my people because of it only to find out that he was toying with me because he wanted to see me stripped of my radiant power. He wanted to see me fall,” you explain, turning to meet Astarion’s gaze finally. “There is no pride in being a Fallen. Only shame.”

He understands now. If anyone, he knows all about shame and it explains more than you know to him why you never told anyone what you are. He wants to reach out and touch you, lay a hand on your wrist as a way to tell you that you are not alone in this. But he doesn’t know if you will allow him to touch you. He knows that if the roles were switched and he told you in extensive detail what Cazador had done to him, he might not know what to do with a friendly touch.

“I wandered around on my own, living off the land, too ashamed to show my face to others, fearing that they would know what I had done and how far I had fallen from grace,” you say, looking back out to the lake. “I was on my own for so long, until I was taken by those Mind Flayers. It seems fitting now, being a Fallen Aasimar with a tadpole behind my eye.”

“You are not alone in this, you know,” he simply says, leaning slightly forward so that he can hold your gaze. “No matter how far you have fallen from grace, you are not alone, little angel.”

You chuckle at his words, your shoulders relaxing as you shift in your seated position. “I’m glad to have met you, Astarion. I only wish that we had met sooner,” you say, smiling sweetly at him as you cross your legs under you. “Perhaps things would have been better.”

Astarion laughs, throwing his head back slightly as he follows your gaze out to the water. “I do not think you would have liked me all that much. I would most likely have led you like a lamb to the slaughter for Cazador to feast on. And he would have reveled in the taste of your blood,” he says, a low growl in his voice at the mention of your blood.

You two had talked about what the others might taste like to him, talking - theoretically - how different people’s blood would taste like. You’re sure that yours must taste different than those he had bitten in battle for a bit of extra strength.

“And I would have tried to kill you if you did,” you tease him, looking at him, your eyes meeting his and you two stare into each other’s eyes.

“May I see them?” he asks, his eyes shifting to your back.

You know he means to see your wings, even in their dismal state. You feel comfortable showing them to him just as he had felt comfortable telling you that he is a vampire. Giving a small nod, you close your eyes to focus on conjuring your spectral wings, revealing their skeletal form with minimal feathers covering parts of them, some looking as though they are ready to fall off.

His mouth falls slightly open as he stares at them, shifting himself on the sand of the shore so that he can kneel behind you. You can almost feel his breath on your next as he shifts closer, his fingers reaching out to touch the exposed bone.

A breath catches in your throat, your head perking up as a shiver runs through your spine, making your wings slightly perk up. Your heart skips a beat, something you’re sure Astarion can hear, and you turn your head slightly over your shoulder to look at him.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that his actions are considered something intimate between your people. Taking another’s wings is something only lovers do. You’ve never had anyone touch them, even when they are in their original, glorious form.

You close your eyes at the sensation, taking in it because you are not sure when you will experience it again. When you feel Astarion moving away, you look at him again and smile. “Thank you. For letting me myself around you,” you whisper, standing up off the ground and dusting off the sand from your hands and legs.

“No. I think I should be the one thanking you for trusting me,” he speaks, standing up with you as he gazes at your features illuminated in the moonlight. Gods, he wishes he could see you in your full glory. He knows you’re still holding back what you could be. Still, he thinks it could be absolutely glorious to see you as the angel you truly are.

You bid him good night and walk to return to your tent. As you leave him, he casts his eyes to the ground to spot a black feather that has fallen from your wings. He bends down to pick it up, twirling it in his finger as she smiles to himself.

He’s going to keep this feather so he remembers this moment forever.

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#astarion x reader #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 character #astarion fluff #astarion fanfic #aasimar #aasimar!reader

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blighted-elf · 1 year

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Local chaos cleric and evil oracle bringing out the worst in each other

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cyborrrg · 8 months

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Dungeons and Daddy Issues

Commission Waitlist Now Open

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sorcerous-caress · 8 months

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My works

Sorted in alphabetical order based on the character's names, except when a work contains multiple characters, then you'll find it at the end of the list.

The most recent fics will be at the end of the character's list.

Gold ♡ is a traditionally written style fanfic [ usually crossposted to Ao3 ]

Red ♡ is a drabble/headcanon style Fanfic [ Not on my Ao3 ]

Pink ♡ is interactive stories

🎂 is an event related work

[ A -> Z ]

Arnell Hallowleaf

♡ Agape [comfort, romance]

Astarion

♡ To dance with you [heavy angst]

Dame Aylin & Isobel

♡ dealing with an overworked reader [fluff, poly]

Gale

♡ The Hanged Man [angst]

♡ cat food [ended]

Halsin

♡ Faux Innocence [smut]

Karniss

♡ Giving him a bath [fluff, angst]

Lorroakan

♡ general and smut headcanons [smut, fluff, dark content]

Minthara Baenre

♡ Smut headcanons [ Smut, nb!reader, Dom!minthara ]

♡ Secret confession [ Fluff, nb!reader ]

♡ Dead men's thrones [dark, smut, gore, durge!reader ]

♡ sleep cuddling [ Fluff, nb!reader, soft!Minthara ]

♡ Reflection [ smut, drama, cheating, Gale ]

♡ A beautiful webbing [smut, drider, dark]

♡ drider Minthara hc [fluff]

♡ Homewarming gift [smut]

Mizora

♡ Cucking Wyll [smut]

♡ XXX [smut]

Qudenos

♡ Red dragon smut hc [ heavy smut, nb!reader ]

Rolan

♡ Meta Magic Seduction [ smut, nb!reader, sub!rolan ]

Shadowheart

♡ Eager Plaything [ heavy smut, nb!reader, Dom!shadowheart ]

♡ Aftercare bath [ fluff, nb!reader, Soft!shadowheart ]

♡ pearly collar [ dark content, smut, nb!reader, dom!shadowheart ]

♡ she degrades you [ smut, nb!reader, dom!shadowheart ]

♡ shart au's reacting to a petname [ fluff, nb!reader ]

♡ wereshart and the full moon [ fluff, werewolf ]

♡ Werewolf Shadowheart HC [ fluff, werewolf ]

♡ Mysterious bag [ongoing]

Sorn Orlith

♡ Bad at sex [ crack, heavy smut, Afab!reader ]

Wyll

♡ With a shy Tav [fluff]

♡🎂 We die at the same time [angst, comfort]

♡🎂 Soft Yandere HC [dark content]

♡🎂 Heaven was made for two [fluff]

♡🎂 Into my arms [angst, TW: Self harm]

♡🎂 Karlach poly [fluff]

♡🎂 insecure tiefling Reader [angst, comfort]

♡🎂 girl dad Wyll [fluff]

Yurgir

♡ A rabbit braver than any wolf [smut]

Z'rell

♡ x reader headcanons [fluff, angst]

Several characters

♡ Asking to touch their ears [ fluff ]

♡ Putting makeup on them [ fluff ]

♡ How would they drink your blood [ suggestive ]

♡ Finding out you're ticklish [ fluff ]

♡ Giving them a hug [ fluff ]

♡ finding out you enjoyed being tickled [ fluff, fetish, smut ]

♡ reacting to a motherly reader [ fluff, afab!fem!reader ]

♡ Aftercare [ fluff, nb!reader ]

♡ how they act when they're sad [ angst ]

♡ reacting to Tav's younger sibling/child [ fluff ]

♡ tiefling reader losing a horn / eye [ hurt/comfort ]

♡ praising a shy Tav [ fluff ]

♡ with a teacher Tav [ fluff ]

♡ Accidentally calling them mom [fluff, platonic]

♡ Reacting to a fallen aasimar Tav [fluff]

♡ Dealing with a stressed Tav [fluff]

♡ Gifts they'd give you [fluff]

♡ taking you as their fake date [fluff]

♡ sharing a bed [fluff]

♡ taking care of the kids [fluff]

♡ aftermath of the breakup [suggestive]

♡ Companions with a Halfling Tav [fluff]

♡ early morning cuddling [fluff]

♡ early morning cuddling pt.2 [fluff]

#♡my works #♡technical issues

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vampiric-hunger · 4 months

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⊱─ 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕚 𝕤𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦) ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Astarion x gn!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - T, just fluff, we're getting slightly sappy in this one

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Ketheric Thorm defeated, Isobel and Aylin reunited, all of this and more are worth celebrating over. and Aylin makes sure that everyone knows that tonight you're drinking to victory, to goodness and love triumphing. so when everyone returns to Last Light Inn, you realize this is a good chance to show Astarion that he matters to you, even if he's not the biggest fan of poetry.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2,421

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: happy valentine's day and happy reading, with much love from me to you all <3

written for Baldur's Date challenge on AO3

As you stood there, drenched in blood and bruised, wounded even, you watched Aylin embrace Isobel with love, you watched them kiss. And you felt Astarion’s hand in yours, squeezing gently. You didn’t look at him because you didn’t need to. You knew what he was thinking by this simple touch alone. A touch like so many others that you two shared so far, touches meant to express things when others are watching, when saying words is not the time or the place.

Touches…

His cold hand in yours, slightly slippery from blood but still needed. Astarion’s thumb brushed the side of your hand and you squeezed his fingers in turn. The scene unfolding in front of you and your party most likely filled almost everyone with warmth.

What it’s like to be reunited with your lover after so long? And after going through so much? Your heart ached at the thought of losing Astarion like this. Just as you have found him, to lose him so profoundly. You squeezed his fingers harder, desperate to feel his presence, to assure yourself it was not a dream, and got a squeeze in return.

No, he was here, he was not going anywhere. You hoped it will be like this forever.

“My friends!” Aylin suddenly announced, interrupting your thoughts before they started spiraling. “Me and my beloved, finally reunited! We need to celebrate! Celebrate victory. Celebrate evil defeated. Celebrate love!” aasimar’s voice boomed through the hall of Moonrise Towers, making everyone present listen.

“Yes. Let’s go back to Last Light Inn. We all deserve a happy moment.” Isobel chimed in and her words were greeted with cheers.

So now that you look around the Inn and see everyone sharing drinks, chatting, laughing even, you realize how easy it is to forget the most important thing – you all survived. You lived. When so many didn’t. This is something truly worth celebrating.

Earlier you and Astarion found two stools somehow unoccupied while the tiefling children serve drinks from behind the counters. Alfira is playing a melody you don’t recognize and Wyll is trying to teach Lae’zel to dance which doesn’t seem to go very well, judging from expression on her face and Wyll’s sweaty forehead. To the right you see Jaheira being absolutely bombarded with questions by Karlach while Halsin is nodding his head patiently, pouring some beer for the three of them. In the small nook just to the right of the main room, you catch a glimpse of Gale, goblet in hand, petting His Majesty and speaking to the cat, but he’s too far and the chatter is too loud for you to hear what he’s murmuring to the feline. When you scan the room once more you finally notice Shadowheart talking to Art Cullagh and you have a suspicion she’s trying to make him share his experiences in Shadowfell.

At least everyone looks to be happy, you think to yourself with a smile.

“Look at them.” you suddenly hear Astarion speak to your right and you look at him. You both managed to clean up more or less after the battle with Ketheric Thorm, but you still notice some streaks of blood in your partner’s hair. You will have to help him wash it out later.

“Look at who exactly?” you tilt your head inquisitively and Astarion’s eyes meet yours for a brief moment before they return onto the crowd.

“All of them.” he gestures with his free hand because in the other he’s holding a metal cup of wine, same as you.

“And what I’m supposed to be seeing?” you look at the people. A mix of tieflings, your companions, newly met friends and allies. What are you missing?

“They are happy.” Astarion says and you look back at him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Shouldn’t they be?” you ask and vampire looks at you, giving you a smirk.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say, darling.” he pauses to drink from his cup and leans a little closer to you. “We made this possible. You made this possible.” Astarion says and you press your lips into a thin line before you answer.

“No. It wasn’t just me. We all did it. As a team. And don’t forget, you’re part of that team.” you smile now, drinking your wine as well and Astarion leans back, eyebrow lifted.

“Maybe so. But who would’ve bothered to save these… these poor souls if not for you and your big heart.” he comments, making you roll your eyes. Of course he has to say something like that, as if not wanting to leave a trail of bodies in your wake is somehow a cardinal sin.

Ever since he told you he has feelings for you, ever since you both agreed to give this relationship a try, Astarion’s been acting as if you’re nice just to everyone. As if he’s not special, as if your desire to be with him is just a passing fancy. And for a while you didn’t know how to make him see the truth – that you do have feelings for him. True and genuine feelings. But soon you realized that you will just have to be patient with him. And show him that you want him because of who he is and not because you supposedly like everyone you meet.

Maybe today is another chance to show him just how serious you are about him.

“I just don’t like the smell of corpses.” you reply, making Astarion smile.

“Then what are you doing with me?” he jabs back and your face flushes.

Generally he would argue with anyone who told him he smells in any other way than pleasant but recently he started to joke about himself and only in your presence. Seeing him open up, become more comfortable with you, it warms your heart. But you’re not going to let this distract you.

“Oh shut up, you smell just fine. When you bathe.” you give him a pointed look and Astarion gasps in mock-offense, his fingers pressed against his chest as if you have insulted him beyond reason.

“Darling, I’m hurt. I try to bathe at least every ten-day.”

You laugh loudly and Astarion’s expression softens. He successfully made you laugh and he knows he will never tire from making you laugh and making you happy, if he can.

“Shut up.” you giggle when your laughter lessens and he nods his head gracefully. Then you clear your throat. You were never good at romantic gestures but you have to at least try. “Do you mind if we go for a walk? I feel like I could use some fresh air.”

“As if any air is fresh in these cursed lands, but alright.” Astarion looks at you curiously, like he’s trying to pry into your mind and detect if something is bothering you.

“Oh you know what I mean.” you slip off your stool and put away the cup.

Astarion follows your lead, echoing your movements and when for a moment your eyes meet his, you nod and start walking out of the Inn.

Nobody seems to be paying attention that you and the vampire are excusing yourselves from the main celebration. You just notice two things before you exit the building: Gale now has His Majesty sleeping in his cross-legged lap and Lae’zel is teaching Wyll how to stab someone. You deduct this from how she’s holding a dagger and twisting it in the air.

“They surely are having fun.” Astarion murmurs and you pause for a moment to see Karlach putting her arm around Halsin’s shoulders, trying to do same to Jaheira, only for the older woman to lean back with her hands raised in defense. But there’s smiles on their faces, all three of them.

You smile too but walk out. Outside there’s Harpers celebrating. Bex and Danis are holding hands and whispering to each other. Dammon is talking to Quartermaster Talli. In short – everyone is happy, friendly and maybe just a little bit intoxicated because Mattis somehow found an entire basement room filled with quite nicely aged wine.

With Astarion walking by your side, you take a left and down the path towards the lake. Towards the rocky plateau where you fought for Halsin, for Thaniel, for the town consumed by Shadow Curse. You don’t notice a curious look Astarion is giving you because you’re getting more anxious with every step. You have something for him and you have no idea if he will like it or not.

But once on the plateau you sit down, hanging your feet from the edge, over the dark water that seems to carry absolutely no life. At least not yet and not so soon. Astarion pauses, he’s not fond of sitting on just plain ground but he still does it, taking a spot on your left, close enough that your hands on the rocky surface almost touch.

For a silent moment you look in front of you. There’s not much to be seen but it’s strangely calm. You both can hear muffled sound of song coming from the Inn, and laughter in the front yard of it, but here, in this moment, it’s just the two of you.

Finally you gather your courage.

“Astarion, can I say something?” you begin and vampire looks at you, his crimson eyes seem even deeper shade of red in this light.

“You’re not going to tell me you’re leaving me, are you?” Astarion jokes but you are sure you hear a note of nervousness in his chuckle. You shake your head and place your palm over his hand, making Astarion look down for a second.

“No, not at all. It’s actually the opposite.” you swallow dryly. Why are you so damned nervous? You have feelings for this man. He has feelings for you in return. So why can’t you just come out with it.

Astarion is patient as he watches you, he easily realizes that you’re struggling with something and he gives you time. Then, after a moment longer you realize you can’t stall anymore.

With your other hand you reach under your leather west and find the folded paper you’ve been carrying with you for several days now. You look down at it once it’s out the hiding spot and Astarion also looks at it.

“What is that?” he asks curiously rather than cautiously and you clear your throat again, then rise your eyes to vampire’s face.

“It’s something I wrote, for you.” you say and another long moment passes while Astarion studies your eyes.

“Can I… see it?” he finally says and you pause, surprised, then suddenly laugh. You didn’t realize you haven’t even given him the damn thing yet.

“Oh yes, yes of course. Here.” you offer him the paper and he has to remove his hand from under your palm to unfold it.

You put your hands in your lap and look down at the water. You don’t want to see his expression while he reads the contents. You feel embarrassed and you don’t want to see his expression if he hates it, in case he does hate it.

“A poem?” you hear Astarion ask softly and you nod, refusing to look at him.

Silence as he reads the words you so painstakingly chose to write for him. To show him in yet another way just how much you care about him.

The poem, that you don’t even think is very good but you’ve put your whole heart into it.

More silence, it seems like eternity is passing while Astarion is reading the words that you have put a piece of your own heart in.

Then, suddenly, you feel his cold fingers under your chin, turning your face to him and when your eyes meet Astarion’s you see, to your surprise, that they are misty with emotion. He’s smiling.

“You wrote this, truly? For me?” he asks in a voice barely above a whisper and you blush harder but give him a small nod. “It’s beautiful. It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever read.” Astarion adds and leans in, pressing his lips against yours firmly.

You close your eyes, the world stops around you two and your heart is beating fast in your chest.

He liked it.

The taste of his lips, the closeness of his body, his fingertips still under your chin. You love him so much it’s like your heart could burst just from fullness alone. It’s almost too much. Almost.

When Astarion’s lips part from yours you meet his gaze, see his genuine smile.

“I never knew you had an artistic side.” he comments and you smile now too. You are both obviously feeling slightly awkward about this. You know why – neither of you are very good at showing love, or receiving it, for that matter. But you’re trying your best, both of you.

“Well, truth to be told, I surprised even myself. So I suppose it’s your fault.” you tease him now and Astarion’s fingers leave your chin. He glances down at the poem and then folds it, tucking it inside his shirt, right against his skin and your heart skips a beat.

“Truly.” Astarion sounds like he’s questioning your guilt placement but in no way he is serious. “Well, darling. If I’m to blame then I take full responsibility.” he smiles now, all smug and confident, and you chuckle.

“Good. Otherwise I would have to take it back.” you reach towards his chest and he catches your fingers immediately, giving them a soft squeeze.

“Never. It’s mine now. And I will forever carry it with me.” Astarion says with the same smile but there’s an edge of seriousness in his tone, making you smile back at him.

“How romantic.” you tease and Astarion leans to your face again.

“I’m not the one writing poems, love.” he whispers, making you blush and you open your mouth to respond but he uses this chance to silence you with a kiss.

Once more you smile, this time against his lips the moment your eyes close and you feel Astarion smile too. Then his hand finds yours again and you move it, turning it palm-up, feeling his fingers thread with yours.

From the softness of his lips against your lips, to his fingers firmly yet gently holding your fingers… You love him. And you see him. With all his perfect imperfections. You see him.

And you will never lose the sight of him as long as you’re alive.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #x reader #reader insert #my fics #astarion fic

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