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theladyismyshepard · 2 months

Note

Hi there I haven't requested anything here in almost 2 years now and I won't lie I miss it, so if it's alright can I ask for Astarion and shadowhearts separate reaction to the Reader who is a magic user coming from a different world where magic is seen as a disease and those who have control of it are marked with a lightning like mark on their cheek

(Similar to the bearer mark from FF16)

I actually have a dusty old draft that's been collecting 2 years worth of cobwebs and it's a WIP that haunts me every time I see it when I open my drafts... and that just so happened to be a request of yours @adryanscott... so for you? Anything at all. The outline seems a little different, but bear with me

Tags: Mentions of abuse, torment, descriptions of chronic illness, Bearer enslavement canon to FF universe

Will You Be My Final Fantasy?

You were but a child when the magic lying dormant beneath your skin burst forth, crackling at your fingertips and ready to be cast. You were but a child when you yourself was cast away by your own parents, your entire world shifting upside down when you were sold off to the highest bidder. Gaia did not feel too much like home anymore, not when the people you had come to know as family and friends looked upon you with such disdain. The neck-breaking pace of which you had gone from carefree to chained was a shellshock that you were forced to adapt quickly to lest you learn the lesson of just how expendable you really were to your own people. At first, it had cut you so deep down that it pierced your soul.

Once the branding tattoo had marked the flesh of your cheek to signify the power brewing underneath, you were scorned. The people of Gaia thought you to be diseased and more monster than human. They feared your power and what you might be capable of, so they had come up with the idea of the bearer mark. Not only did it act as a red flag to warn others that you possessed natural magic and that you were owned, it dulled your powers in a painful way that left you with a permanent uncomfortable itch just beneath your skin. No amount of scratching or tearing away at the skin of your cheek would bring you relief, and at first, your struggle provided a great source of amusement for your enslavers until you began slacking on the quality of your duties.

As the years gave way to decades, the fiery fury that fueled your desire to see another day had slowly begun dwindling. You felt as if you yourself was an upturned hourglass, and with each grain of sand that flowed with time, your hope for something better faded with it. All you were living for was an end… an end to your torment, an end to your captors, an end to your miserable existence. You weren’t sure if you’d call yourself lucky or not that your Masters demanded back-breaking physical labor from you rather than casting spells at their convenience. With each draw of your magic, you felt a stiffening in your bones that brought with it a deep chill that was impossible to ward off. Maybe you were diseased…

The day had started as any other had in the past couple decades, with you rising in time with the sun to get prepared for a gruesome day of withering yourself away to nothing. As you glanced up to the sky to watch the first peeks of sunlight bleeding into the blanket of night, you couldn’t help the furrow of your brow when you noticed a small tear. Your lips parted, but as you took a step forward for a closer look to assure yourself that you weren’t hallucinating, there was an audible ripping sound as the tear in the sky widened into a large hole. Before you could even feel fear chill the blood in your veins, there was a gigantic ship soaring through, and across the horizon. You had never seen such a horrific-looking vessel that had long, flowing tentacles such as the one overhead at the moment, and your flight instincts kicked you into overdrive as it veered in your direction.

There was no time to register the long, fluid shadow of the tentacle hovering over you before it struck, and all you could do was watch on in horror as your hands began to disintegrate. First, you lost feeling in your fingers before the cracks broke apart your wrists, leaving nothing in its wake. The disintegration process didn’t take long to travel along the lengths of your forearms and up your biceps, and no amount of harsh gasps of air could pull enough breath into your lungs. You were fading fast. As your arms disappeared, you began to choke on the tightness in your chest before ash peppered your tongue and lodged itself along the walls of your throat. With a final gurgle, your eyes disintegrated and darkness enveloped you until there was nothing left.When you had awoken, you discovered yourself in a world where nearly everyone wielded magic. It was a culture shock that left you reeling, and even though you witnessed open displays of magic, even from some of your own party members, with no repercussions involved, you didn’t feel safe enough to expose yourself for what you were.

Shadowheart –

Even as you found yourself drawn towards Shadowheart, and felt yourself relating to the air of mystery (you understood better than anyone the need to bury the past and never let anyone see), you were so traumatized and so used to being seen as an animal to be used until broken that you could not speak the words. You were too fearful of being cast away yet again.

When Shadowheart had kissed you after revealing some of her own memories, you had tasted the bitterness of both the wine and of your own backstory on your tongue. It was the perfect moment to open up to the cleric, especially when you had never seen her eyes look so soft as they did when they gazed upon you at that moment. She had even asked you about your Bearer’s mark…but panic had seized control over any inklings of rationality you had left, and you had mumbled something about “everyone else had one” and “giving into the peer pressure”… The romantic atmosphere didn’t go any further than that, and you were grateful because the tightness in your chest proved too distracting to properly worship Shadowheart’s body. As you learned more and more of Shadowheart and who she affiliated herself with, you gauged other people’s reactions and deduced that her magic was frowned upon by many.

Her head never ducked beneath the weight of heated gazes sent her direction, and she never faltered at barbed words spat at her. You were in awe of how confident and self-assured she seemed in her worship, and you felt the connection between you two surpassing just your ability to relate. You admired Shadowheart to the point where you wanted to be more like her. You wanted to be free… But as you glanced between the woman you had come to care for and the shackled Nightsong, you couldn’t help thinking that Shadowheart was the true one in chains. To give blood, sweat, and tears your entire life and still have to fight through fire for any scraps of approval… it sounded too close to home for you. And if you yourself could never be free of the chains still holding you to Gaia, you would fight like hell to rid Shadowheart of hers.

You knew talking her down would prove challenging, but what you didn’t expect was how easily you had revealed your magic to the indignant woman. It was the accusation of you being clueless and ignorant spat so venomously at you that did you in. What do I know?! What do you know?! And it was the same moment your irritation boiled over that you remembered that she would never know if you refused to say something. Before she could turn her assault back onto the Nightsong, you sent a wave of your worst memories through your connection, and you were so overwhelmed yourself that you didn’t notice Shadowheart falter.

You can smell the leather of bootstraps as your bones snapped beneath heavy stomps. You can feel the sting of your open wounds rubbed with salts. You can hear the mocking laughter as your body writhes in a pool of your own blood. The stench of your boiled flesh was so pungent that you could almost taste it. There was a gnawing hunger that threatened to eat away at your stomach, and after a while, any thought of food would make you sick enough to dry heave. Through it all, there was the constant heartbeat in your cheek where the mark was tattooed. Sometimes you fear that the poison used in crafting the ink had seeped into your very pores and was burning you from the inside out. You were itchy, and so very stiff… And you couldn’t tell anyone. Keep your pain hidden. No one can help you. They’ll all hate you. You’ll be sent ba–

There were hands cradling your face, and the abrupt touch had you jolting out of your memories. Shadowheart was standing before you with tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Concern and anger had flared across your connection as she glanced you up and down, desperately searching you for any lingering wounds or scars. Her eyes stopped on the lightning-shaped mark on your cheek, and you felt her thumb trace the skin below it, too hesitant to cause you additional hurt. You hiccuped as you became emotional at finally revealing the extent of your torment to the woman you loved. Your hands were shaking as you reached up to loosely grasp at her wrists, and she curled one hand around the back of your neck to bring your foreheads together.

“Never again,” Shadowheart swore thickly past her own tears, “No one will ever harm you again, not for this, not for anything…”

Your shoulders shook as an impending panic attack loomed over you.

You were taught to be ashamed of who you were, that you were less of a being and deserved the world’s spite just for being alive. You had watched people just like you call upon their magic one time too many, and the stiffness in their bones overtook them and morphed them completely into stone before withering away to dust. You were afraid of yourself for a very long time, and here this woman stood before you with nothing but love and sorrow on her face. Sorrow for what you had gone through, sorrow that you felt forced to hide from her, sorrow for you thinking you were anything less than perfect. She leaned up to place the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt on your mark, and butterflies filled your stomach as your heart started racing.

“You have always been magnificent… I love you,” Shadowheart insisted earnestly, both of her hands now holding you close by the back of your neck, “And magic or no magic could make me need you any less, I assure you… Could you ever hate me for my magic?”

“Wh- No!” You rush to insist, but your shoulders deflate as her point reaches you… Maybe it was time to finally let yourself believe that you were really out of that place, and you never had to go back.

“I know what it’s like when something is too hard to let yourself believe… but you’ve helped me to see that there just might be the sweetest of rewards in doing so,” Shadowheart said before capturing your lips in a kiss intended to banish all doubt, and when she pulled away, she finally turned back to the Nightsong with nothing but sympathy in her heart.

You watched on in amazement as Shadowheart broke three sets of chains all at the same time.

— — — — — — — —

Astarion —

Despite the fact that a vampire had threatened to kill you in self-defense and still joined your party, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully open up. Each time his silky smooth words were close enough to reach you, your chest would seize up, keeping any and all secrets trapped within. As the weeks turned into months, you and Astarion had grown closer along the dusty trail. You had helped him to feel safe enough to confide in you about Cazador and the torments he had endured by his Master’s hand. You had felt your own misery and pain bubbling within your vocal chords, just begging to be released and revealed to the vampire. If anyone could understand the years of enslavement you had gone through because of your magic, it would be Astarion.

But throughout decades of cruelty, punishment, and humiliation, the one thing you never learned how to endure was being looked at as if you were something to be treasured rather than exploited. You knew where to cover when the blows started coming, you knew how to disassociate when the hunger set in, you knew what it was like to be more dead on the inside than on the outside… But you didn’t know how to react to any display of affection. How were you supposed to respond? You never quite learned how to convey compassion or how to accept it, and all you could do was curse yourself when you’d notice his shoulders slump the tiniest bit before his signature smirk was back in place to hide his own vulnerability.

But you had seen the smallest glimmer of how truly broken Astarion was, and now that you did, there was no unseeing it. Every sugary drawl, every deflecting answer, every flirtatious banter, it was all a facade, one that always seemed two steps away from crumbling. You wanted to help him, to fill in every fissure of his cracked heart with your presence until the very idea of Cazador was gone from his being, but you still felt too diseased yourself. When your fingers itched to reach out and comfort him when you’d notice the foggy haze of the past clouding over his eyes, you’d instead lift them to scratch at your burning bearer’s mark.

And bless him, Astarion had asked you about the tattoo one night after you had let him feed from you. You two were lying side-by-side as you gazed up into the vast blanket of stars, and there was a comfortable silence between you two that had only been broken by the question. He made no immediate comment even though you knew he felt you tense up next to him and you greatly appreciated it, especially knowing his penchant for starting trouble and watching others flounder in it. Before you could even attempt to think quickly on your feet, his hand had snuck down between your bodies to grab yours, and you were the one linking your fingers, squeezing his grip as the tension left your body. Only when he felt you fully relaxed did he assure you that that sounded like a topic better suited for another time. Your clasped hands never let go, even as you two fell asleep.

When your travels had brought the party to Baldur’s Gate, it was a chaotic mess with people wedged into any and every crevice. There were murderous cultists, sneaky thieves, and Astarion’s “sibling” spawns lurking about. The vampire tried his hardest to appear unaffected by the warnings, and he was successful to those on the outside looking in, but the tadpole connection was a deeper rooted relationship that proved nearly impossible to withdraw from. His emotions were a waged war, going back and forth and back again, and you so badly wanted to reach out and grab his hand to comfort him just as he did for you, but you had the same suspicion that this was a topic better suited for another time.

But you felt it, boy did you feel it through your connection… The same haunting feeling that clung to your bones, the chronic illness that stiffened your joints and left you too restrained in your own body, the horrific notion that you would never really belong to yourself, not ever again. Astarion’s back was rigid the entire way to camp, all traces of his charismatic aura gone. He was on edge, and would remain so forever until his Master was defeated, releasing him from the invisible chains still binding him. The rest of the party knew well enough to give him space (though everyone pretty much had their own problems they were in the middle of overcoming), but you would not leave him to wallow in the burning itch to go forth and rip, tear, kill…

You had the sense to bump up the urgency of seeking out Cazador’s lair and striking him down in Astarion’s name… but if he was as powerful as led to believe, and if there would be a chance of losing each other, that night wouldn’t be for Cazador, it would be for you and your love for Astarion, for him and his love for you. If he required a night of distraction to get him to the impending final showdown the next day, you would offer whatever he needed; If he needed blood, if he needed words, if he needed your body… With each gentle kiss that you placed on his skin, he seemed a little less further away. And as you watched him cum and was immediately brought to your own peak as well, you knew then that you would do anything to free this beautiful man.

You let that thought guide you as Astarion was forced under Cazador’s influence once more. The sight of him entrapped in the red beacon of his Master’s control had petrified you. To reach his full Ascension, Cazador had to absorb the special spawns’ life source, reducing them to a pile of ash, and you were paranoid with each attack he unleashed, each time he opened his mouth, that he would utter the spell to take Astarion away from you. When you could no longer withstand the mental torment, you raised your hand, and watched the magic crackle to life at your fingertips. Your cheek was burning, and you could see from your peripheral that your lightning-shaped mark was glowing, but you didn’t let it dissuade you. You were on a mission to save your lover, and you would use everything in your arsenal to do it, including your magic, even if it crystalized you in the process.

Your party members were thoroughly surprised to see you casting spells, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Cazador was staggering on bended knee before attempting to rush back to his coffin. As Astarion dropped to the ground, he wasted no time in chasing after to peel the lid away before Cazador could begin healing himself. A weight lifted from your own chest when Astarion drove a dagger through his biggest nightmare over and over until his own sobbing pain began bleeding dry. He was free… and you will be, too…

As you stiffly knelt at Cazador’s dead body, right beside Astarion– always beside Astarion– you cupped his cheek with one hand, and grabbed the back of his neck with the other before bringing him into the sweetest of kisses. You scratched at the hairs at the base of his neck and before you could talk yourself out of it, you released all of your memories through your connection. You felt his gasp on your lips, but you pressed on, he deserved to know your biggest secret considering he shared his with you. He needed to know that you saw him… far deeper that he originally knew. You could taste his tears even after he pulled away.

“Oh darling…” Astarion whispered, his throat raw from screaming himself hoarse while boiling over, “I hate that you understand a little more than others… and I hate that such a beautiful soul like yourself has been bruised so heavily.”

You sagged into him before hugging him tightly. He began petting your hair and cooing praises into your ear, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead every so often. You eventually craned your neck and caught his lips into a kiss, and if he couldn’t sense the love through it, you made sure to spread the warmth through your tadpole connection. His lips curled into a smile wide enough to break the kiss before he collected himself enough to pepper a handful of quick kisses onto your own bashfully grinning mouth.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me–well…” His eyes momentarily cut down to Cazador’s body before meeting yours unwaveringly. “And I would continue to love you lifetimes after you were gone, only hoping you would return to me again someday.”

He dropped a reverent kiss to the back of your hand, brought you into one last searing kiss, and moved to stand, helping you up as he went. Astarion had a way of making you feel so safe and loved, even when exposing yourself, your body and your secrets. He would always assure you that he has his own skeletons in his closet… but at least they were finely dressed might he add.

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theladyismyshepard · 3 months

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For Valentines Day could I request hc for how halsin and Astarion would react to their shared lover surprising them with new lingerie?

Of course you can, anon, and I thank you for such a racy prompt

Astarion x Halsin x Reader (M/M/F)

NSFW, MDNI below cut

Three's Company, and I'm Afraid I'm Underdressed

(How Astarion and Halsin Would React to You in Lingerie)

You were a certified genius. That was all you could think after you stepped out of Facemaker’s Boutique in Baldur’s Gate with your coin purse considerably lighter. None had been the wiser when you began stuffing a lacy corset into your travel pack. Weeks of trekking through the swamps and the Underdark had left you grimy and less than seductive when it came to romancing Halsin and Astarion.

Halsin… my good man, no my good boy… The druid was a simple man who loved nature and especially the dirt that came with it. He found the dust from the roads that clung to your skin and your clothes to be the most beautiful thing in the world. The smile that slowly pulled at the edges of your mouth when you thought of how sweet Halsin was could never be helped. He was a natural smooth talker, speaking almost as if he was telling you nothing but truths and common sense when he complimented you or Astarion.

You could feel your mirrored appreciation through your connection with the vampire. Astarion originally would downplay how much he approved of Halsin’s bold declarations before the druid’s chivalry filed down the barbed-wire ensnaring the vampire’s bittered, blackened heart. And almost as if determined to clear out the shadows of Astarion’s heart just as he intended with the Shadowfell, he broke down walls that had been fortified for centuries.

Astarion had a voice like honey himself and all of the flare to go with it. His playful flirting always danced along the edge of actual seduction, and it always kept you on your toes. Halsin hadn’t always been too keen on joking, especially the dark humor that the vampire had perfected, but as the snarky facade began to crack and glimmers of a broken man could be seen peering through, Halsin was finally beginning to see what you did in Astarion.

The grand display of their love flourishing had your heart swelling happily in your chest. These two men had nothing but time ahead of them and it thrilled you to know that when you withered away with age decades from now, the two would offer each other support. But until that moment came, and while you could still claim to possess an ass that won’t quit, you would show your lovers the perks of having you involved in their love affair.

It was the perfect night. The stars were shining bright, the air was calm, and the aftertaste of victory was still sweet on your tongue. The party had dispersed almost immediately following the battle of the Netherbrain, and while initially it left you feeling hollow, the privacy sure proved useful for moments such as what you had planned. As you approached Astarion and Halsin, who were both lounging back against a log and chatting by the fire, your hands were wringing the drawstring of your robe.

They both looked up at the same time and you chuckled at how cute they were. Of course Halsin’s connection to nature helped him in sensing the change of your presence just as quick as Astarion’s enhanced hearing. The vampire arched a brow while the druid cocked his head when he noticed your robe-clad body. Your chest expanded as you took a deep breath, and you held it as you dropped the cloth from your shoulders and down your arms to pool at your feet.

The lingerie hugged your body like a second skin and the lacy fabric left no room for imagination as it practically left you bare before your lovers. Astarion’s eyes widened while slowly looking you up and down. When they returned to meet yours, his confident smirk was back in place as he attempted to convey with his eyes alone just how hungry he had become. He was a man of fashion, darling, and he greatly treasured when you put in the same effort as he did. As he shifted his upper body in your direction with his gaze piercing straight into your soul, his elbow propped up on the log as his pointer finger pressed against his temple, his thumb supported his chin, and his remaining fingers were semi-curled and resting over his lips. The tadpole’s connection between you two had vanished the moment the Netherbrain fell, but you’d swear you could practically feel his arousal as if it were your own.

Halsin drank in the sight of your semi-naked body as if it were a cold drink of water on the hottest day of the year. Initially, you were unsure if the Druid would be as affected as you’d like. He had let you know early on that he found you most alluring when you had nothing obscuring his vision…. But his entranced smile as he fully sat up to look at you around Astarion was a promise enough of what would be to come (or who). You were trapped beneath the weight of both of these men’s heavy gazes.

“Don’t you look positively delectable,” Astarion drawled almost predatorily as he motioned with his other hand for you to come closer, “I could eat you right up… And I think I just might,”

“Only if you save some for me,” Halsin chimed in, and you could see his muscles twitching with the urge to pounce, but he remained in his spot beside Astarion, but on edge with anticipation.

Certified genius.

It was a brief thought that was gone as quick as it came once you reached Astarion and he lifted both his hands to grab ahold of yours and guide you down onto his lap. You gasped and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down when you rubbed against his semi-hard dick. It felt like electricity shot down your spine as heat pooled in the pit of your stomach when you felt his hips pump up to meet you. You both groaned in unison, and while you could have easily allowed your eyes to roll back and just relish in the growing wetness between your thighs, there was another hand that began rubbing circles between your shoulders.

Halsin’s breathing had quickened and he was leaning in closer than when you last glanced in his direction. His lips were parted as he shakily exhaled, his hands continuing to massage circles into not only your skin, but he was running his fingertips up and down Astarion’s back as well. You didn’t even think, it was instinct to lean forward and capture the druid’s lips in a kiss. It wasn’t long before his tongue was licking across your bottom lip, wordlessly asking for entrance. He was a dominating lover, and it was evident in the way his tongue fought for control.

Hands that were previously gripping your waist were now running teasingly up your sides. You felt goosebumps flaring beneath the fabric of the lingerie. Astarion’s hips continued a calm, steady thrusting as his hands explored up your sides, across your hips, and gathered handfuls of your rear. Your flesh was ablaze with each touch. As the vampire’s erection grew harder against your clothed center, you felt the moan bubble in your throat before it interrupted your kiss with Halsin. The druid’s lips kissed down your cheek to a spot right below your ear. You felt Halsin’s hand meet Astarion’s on your back before the weight of his touch disappeared and you knew his hand was running up Astarion’s arm that was wound around your body.

Halsin pulled back and looked over at Astarion, whose gaze shifted to the druid in return. It was a challenging arch of the brow that spurred Halsin forward in claiming the vampire’s lips in a searing kiss. Astarion’s head was tilted back with one of Halsin’s hands supporting the back of his head as their tongues explored the other’s mouth. You shivered in arousal, practically feeling your nipples fighting against the restraint of the lingerie before you ran your hands over Astarion’s chest. You leaned forward and started placing open-mouthed kisses along Halsin’s broad shoulder and down his chest. You growled at the clothing between your hands, mouth, and their bodies. You pulled back, and they both broke the kiss to look at you.

“Clothes, off, now,”

“How expensive was-”

Before Astarion could even finish his question, Halsin was tearing the lacy cloth from your body to get to the prize underneath. You weren’t even surprised. Astarion merely shrugged before pulling his shirt off, and Halsin stood as he fully undressed himself. The moment his underwear was pulled down his legs and his cock sprung to life just a foot away from your face, you could’ve sworn you started salivating. Astarion must have had the same thought because he was staring wide-eyed at his dick and licked his lips before glancing up at his face.

An idea sparked in your mind and you looked up at Halsin before turning back to Astarion. You placed your hands over his bare chest, your fingers splaying out and your pinky finger grazed over his nipple. The vampire inhaled sharply, neck snapping back to face you. You pull him into an open-mouthed kiss that lasted a moment before pulling back and looking him straight in the eye.

“Suck Halsin’s dick,” You command, and Astarion’s shock flashed over his face a moment before his mouth twisted into a devilish grin.

“It would be my pleasure,” he cooed before he gently grabbed the back of Halsin’s thigh and pulled him close enough to flatten his tongue against the tip of his cock, flicking it before licking a swirl around the head.

Halsin sucked in a breath between his teeth at the sudden wet heat. You were throbbing between your legs at the sight, and you could feel a renewed wetness slicking your lower lips. Your eyes never cut away even as your hands worked at Astarion’s belt. It was a familiar movement that was reflex now, and it wasn’t long before the vampire’s dick was in your hand, pumping it to full length. Astarion moaned around Halsin’s dick and as a result, the druid released his own groan. You continued to stroke Astarion with one hand, and your other lifted to Halsin’s hip bone next to Astarion’s fair hair, and caressed the skin there and up his stomach and back again, watching as the muscles of his stomach flexed.

Astarion’s hand on the back of Halsin’s thigh lightened to his fingertips as he drew them higher and higher until he grabbed a handful of his cheek. Halsin jolted forward and further down Astarion’s throat, prompting the vampire to gag a bit before bobbing his back and forth, allowing his tongue to graze the underside of his dick. Your thumb rubbed a circle on the tip of Astarion’s dick before it traced a vein that traveled the length of it, and just when you felt a clear wetness ooze from the tip, you released your grip to raise yourself to your knees long enough to line him up with your center before you slowly sunk your full weight onto his dick. Astarion sputtered around Halsin’s dick, pulling back to gasp and arch his back into you.

Halsin’s cock glistened with Astarion’s spit as it stood at attention, and who was you to deny it? You leaned forward to take Halsin into your mouth and continue where the vampire had left off. With both of your hands free, your right one lightly trailed up his stomach as far as you could reach, and your left wound behind him and grabbed the same cheek that Astarion had. Halsin’s head fell back, allowing him to gaze up into the endless sea of stars. It felt as though he was flying, but the wet heat of your mouth kept him grounded. You hollowed your cheeks briefly before a gasp gave you a pause around Halsin.

Astarion’s dick was still buried inside of you, and he had regained some of his composure. He was jogging his hips, and you felt him stretching you out as he went deeper and deeper. Given how wet you were, there was hardly much resistance and he soon bottomed out. He halted to familiarize both your bodies to the stretch, and as he paused, he surged forward to take your nipple into his mouth. Your back arched to get closer to him, but one of his hands was already around your back, keeping you tight against his body. A larger hand was suddenly cupping the base of your neck, and you pulled off of Halsin to glance up at him.

The druid gave you a warm smile before he bowed over to meet your lips with his. He licked away the moisture on your lips before following it with several quick pecks. As he righted himself, Astarion reached forward with his free hand and grabbed his length to start pumping it. You were entranced by the sight before pleasure sent fire coursing through your veins, and you began grinding down to match Astarion’s thrusts up into you. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut as you rode his dick, but they snapped open when you felt Halsin slightly squeeze the back of your neck to get your attention. The head of his cock was plump and looked about ready to burst. Your lips parted a ‘oh’ at the sight as well as the pressure building quickly in your gut from the suckling at your nipples. Astarion was stroking Halsin faster and you were captivated by the sight of the head disappearing and reappearing in the fist as he pumped.

Astarion kissed up your chest and sank his teeth into the flesh connecting your shoulder and neck. You moaned loudly as you teetered on the edge, but you were sure to keep your mouth wide open. You stuck your tongue out all while staring Halsin in the eye, and let the head of his cock rest against it as you waited for him to shoot his load. The sight, along with the feel of your wet tongue coupled with Astarion’s quick jerking, had Halsin spilling into your mouth as he came. You lapped it up eagerly, and licked the head clean as his fingers combed through your hair.

The teeth in your neck released and the sting was soothed by a broad stroke of the vampire’s tongue. He followed it with a kiss and trailed them up your neck, past your chin, and connected your lips as he used the hand on the small of your back as leverage for a few more quick thrusts before your walls were fluttering around his member and your back was arching as you fell over the edge. As your orgasm rolled through you, you became deathly still before snapping and your erratic grinding had Astarion pulling you off his dick just as he shot his load across your clit.

Your thighs were sore and your body felt limp as you fell against Astarion, who immediately caught you and brought you closer. Halsin’s hand was back to brushing your hair back, and as you cuddled into the vampire’s neck, you felt his head crane back to meet Halsin in a brief kiss.

Oh yeah… certified genius.

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theladyismyshepard · 3 months

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Happy Valentine’s Day

to all you lovely ladies and marvelous men (or you in the incredibly in-between) (or even the naughty neithers) out there who didn’t have anyone to share it with. You’re doing bad all on your own! My Valentines gift to any of my followers who needs/wants it will be an open request box for any Baldur’s Gate 3 party content.

So if you have a headcanon or a one shot that you would much rather read than write yourself, be sure to drop me an ask

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theladyismyshepard · 3 months

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“Do it,” It was a breathless command that would haunt the Drow for the rest of her days, and the inaudible repeat had her eyes subconsciously fluttering shut before snapping them open.

Minthara swallowed thickly before she set her jaw. Her eyes briefly stared at a spot overhead in a futile attempt to disperse of the tears welling in her bottom eyelids. The… monster that squirmed at her feet was alternating between pitiful pleas and predatory snarls, all while staring the Nightwarden right in the eye. Minthara could remember a time when those same lips had been pulled into a shy smile as Durge had bashfully looked to their feet. It seemed as if it were a lifetime ago.

“You said-” Durge had spat hatefully, but appeared to collect themselves with a look of horror, “Y-You promised!”

“Darling,” Minthara started slowly, approaching Durge cautiously as if speaking to a wild animal rather than her lover, but the antihero was having none of it.

“No!” The growl seemed to shock even Durge, but it wasn’t long before they were struggling against their binds once more. “Kill me! Kill me now or I’ll fucking kill you!”

Minthara blinked, prompting the tears to slip down her cheeks. The promise she had made to both Durge and herself always weighed in the back of her mind. She was all too aware that one should never judge a book by its cover, but Durge had the capability of being so unassuming. They had been so capable of the sweetest love that Minthara had ever experienced. When they had explained the dark urges lingering just beneath their fingertips, Minthara initially felt a bit incredulous, but as the fear and insecurity shrouding Durge nearly drove them into a full-blown panic attack, the drow was quick with the assurance to step in however needed.

A part of her never believed she would have to keep her end of the bargain, that they were pulling an elaborate joke… then she thought there could be a cure, maybe even a lobotomy from that joke of a man Volo if things got real desperate… and as she watched Durge flex against the restraints with a murderous gleam in their eye and nearly foaming at the mouth, well… she wasn’t too sure what else to think other than the promise she had made.

“You lying bitch!” Durge seethed before visibly shaking themselves back to reality. “I love you! I fucking love you, and if you loved me too, you’d do us all a favor and kill yourself,”

Minthara did nothing to hide the tears. Their words stung. Not because of the resentful claim, but because at one point she believed them to be incapable of harboring such spite towards her. It wasn’t them… but it was. It morphed their face in expressions unseen before. It lowered their voice in harsh tones unheard of before. Durge’s words stung because now Minthara believed her lover truly to be gone.

“I loved you, I want you to know that.” Minthara croaked as she finally found her voice.

She stood before Durge, close enough that if the binds had finally given way, they wouldn’t have to reach out far to touch her foot. The monster might spit words of acid, but it still wore her lover’s face. The tears were streaming now as Minthara’s chest heaved with the force of her heart splintering. The dagger was burning in its sheath, a heavy reminder of its presence and just what she needed to do with it. So why wasn’t she reaching for it? As she dropped to her knees at Durge’s side and watched as their fingers grabbed fruitlessly at the empty air, she felt shame. Shame at her hesitation, shame at allowing a feeling such as love to flourish in her heart, shame at being unable to help them…

“I’ll cut your heart from your chest and only then will it really belong to me.” Durge threatened gleefully, and their lips twisted back into a feral grin when one of the restraints began to loosen enough to move an extra inch forward.

“It only ever belonged to me,” said Minthara monotonously, her eyes glazed as she withdrew the dagger and positioned it over your chest, one hand around the handle and the other flat against the pommel, “Until I shared it with you,”

Durge sneered at Minthara, showing no fear in the face of death. A glint from the dagger twinkled in their eye, and Minthara could find no traces of the one she loved. This was a hollowed out shell feeding off of the carnage and chaos that they had fought so hard against when they had first been infected. Minthara sighed as the grim reminder slapped her right in the face. The lover she had come to know had been the false copy all along, and despite a lifetime of experience and wisdom, she had still come out the fool.

“Wait!” Durge exclaimed, their face twisting into one of pure terror, and Minthara would be lying if she said she didn’t feel a quiver. “Please! D-Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me?!”

“I-”

“I’ll be good! I swear!” Durge screamed at the top of their lungs. “I swear! I swear! I swear I’ll fucking rip you all apart and feed on your-”

The shouts were cut into rough gurgling as Minthara drove the blade into Durge’s chest. Their eyes widened as they stared up at the ceiling in near disbelief. Their lips were parting as if mumbling to themselves, but the only thing pouring from their mouth was thick, red, almost black blood as it oozed a filthy path from the corner of their mouth to their ear. Durge was swallowing repeatedly past the blood, attempting to get air into their lungs, but all they accomplished was a gag.

“I’m sorry,” Minthara urged, finally moving close enough to pull their head into her lap, and ran her fingers through their hair to push it back from their forehead.

“Do-” Durge gurgled, their voice thick with blood, “Sa-”

“Shh,” Minthara shushed them gently, both needing them to conserve their energy and to also not ruin the last moment.

“Love,”

Minthara hoped and prayed that it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She couldn’t afford to have her mind playing games with her, not when her heart was broken beyond repair. She needed her lover fully coherent in their final goodbye, and as Durge finally fell still after their last stuttered gasp of love had left them, she reached forward to close their eyes for the last time. Minthara bowed forward to placing adoring kisses atop each of their closed eyelids before claiming their bloody lips in a kiss that would claim Durge even in death.

Bhaal would have to fight like hell if he really wanted them back.

I’m just having angsty Minthara X Durge thoughts if we ever got her “I’m going to kill the person I care about the most” scene. (TW: Dark Content under cut)

When you first tell her of your urges she says, if they ever overtake you, she will be there to kill you.

So just imagine that night, Durge, bound, lying on their side, in between mindless fits of rage, begging her to make good on her word. The hurt and fear in their eyes as they beg. “Please, you promised.”

And Minthara, standing above them, holding a dagger, horrified by the creature before her. The one who saved her, the one who showed her kindness, nearly unrecognizable in their fury. Yet, she can’t quite bring herself to bring down her blade.

#oops im rambling #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 minthara #minthara #bg3 tav #minthara x tav #bg3 durge #durge #dark urge #bg3 companions #bg3 companion headcanons #i’m sorry #I didn’t mean to take this over #😅#prompts #abusivelanguage #durge x minthara #bg3 durge x Minthara

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