#Astarion x tv

[bloodandoranges]

Through Your Eyes

Astarion x Reader/Tav / short / soft and sweet / Tav draws Astarion, he gushes

Thank you for all the love on my first post! I’m working on some Karlach stuff right now because I noticed that she’s really lacking in fics so obviously that needs to be rectified.

Astarion tapped his foot, leaning back against his hands as he waited…he liked to think he was a patient man, but…he was not.

“Darling, how much longer will this take?” He complained, tilting his head from side to side as if his muscles were aching.

Tav glance over her sketch pad, a soft laugh escaping her. “… Astarion, I’ve been drawing for ten minutes," she spoke, gazing intently at him for a moment… before getting back to work.

He gave a bit of a huff; though it clearly wasn’t genuine annoyance. He actually really appreciated it. She was a wonderful artist. He’d caught her doodling their companions and seeing how well she caught their likeness? He was eager to see himself from her eyes… and well, eager to see himself in general.

Cazador may have been more than happy to splurge on portraits of himself, but his spawn? He wouldn’t even dream of it. He frowned a little at the thought, and Tav gave a soft laugh.

“Stop frowning… I want to draw that beautiful smile.” Of course, she wasn’t to know what was on his mind. Astarion blinked, eyes widening a bit…clearly? He hadn’t noticed he was outwardly expressing his frustration.

He gave a little huff, readjusting and giving her a sly smile. “…You know that’s not what I mean," she spoke, lowering the sketch pad…He caught the slightest glimpse of himself and beamed. “That one!” she laughed, eagerly fumbling to adjust the sketch.

“Oh come now, you’ve got to be done, surely!” he sighed frantically as he crawled over, arms winding around her waist as he nuzzled into her shoulder, gazing over the sketch… His face softened immediately at the sight.

There he was, basking in the sun and settled in front of his tent, an adoring smile on his face. His hair was coiffed, somehow curled around his face perfectly despite the whole no mirror thing… He looked ethereal. There were a couple more sketches on the page too, showcasing his face up close, wrinkles and blemishes and all.

Of course, he knew he was gorgeous; he’d had zero doubts about that. But to see what he truly looked like? Drawn by someone who treasured him so dearly? It almost bought a tear to his eye. Almost.

“Darling, these are simply divine…” he whispered, taking the sketch pad from her to admire them. “We should get them framed.”

“Wh- they’re not /that/ good!” she cried, eyes wide at the suggestion.

“Nonsense! They’re everything to me…” he cooed, setting the sketch pad down to cup her face, gazing at her with so much love.

Tav flushed, hands slowly moving to settle over his. She really didn’t feel like a couple sketches warranted framing, but it was clearly important to him. “…Okay, Astarion. I’ll get them framed,” Tav cooed, kissing lazily at his palms… Which turned into lazy kisses, which turned into Gale loudly scolding the pair from across the camp.

They looked at each other, laughing loudly as they untangled themselves to stand… And just like that, they were off to the city.

[wiltedreamofbaldursgate]

You, Blinding Like the Sun

characters: Astarion x gender neutral Elf!Tav/reader word count: +1.5k Rating: teen and up. sfw. trigger warning: very loosely implied trauma on both sides. read on ao3

Astarion despises you so very much because you’re everything he isn’t, everything he has never been. Not even alive could he have held a candle to you, because you’re perfect and he is falling, and he hates that he is falling for you.

He despises you.

From the moment Astarion first laid eyes upon you—confident, selfless little elf, blinding like the sun—he has despised you. You with your dazzling golden eyes, the sweet flush on the tip of your pointy ears. Your artfully arranged hair, kissed by the sun to make it shine like fine silk. The cute little freckles sprinkled all over your unmarred skin—skin that has never been touched by undesired hands. You who lived long enough to choose a name for yourself—to make a name for yourself.

How he despises all of it.

The way you win anyone over with nothing but an honest smile; the sheer purpose in your every step. That nasty confidence of yours that isn't some skill you ever needed to acquire because, to you, it comes all-natural, of course—you were born with it. Astarion can tell it's true because he’s spent two centuries mimicking the behaviour of people just like you.

And he despises you for it.

Before you were even born, the gods have bestowed their gifts on you, and here you are, not even knowing what power you hold, how very blessed you are. You wouldn’t even care if you knew, because the fact of the matter is that you have no need for gods nor gifts nor skills. Not when people gravitate towards you as if you have hung the stars. And how dreadfully inviting you always are, so very accommodating.

Come sit by the fire, Astarion; isn’t it cold and lonely over there?

Come feed from me, Astarion; you look so terribly starved.

Come enjoy yourself, Astarion, have all of me, Astarion, I don’t ask for anything in return, Astarion.

Astarion, are you alright? 

Everything you say or do, everything you are—he fucking despises it.

He despises how laughably easy it was to fool you, to fuck you, to make you fall for him; honestly, don’t you know any better, darling? Probably not, because it’s evident that you aren’t all there in the head sometimes.

After all, who in their right mind would let a starved beast feast at the most divinely set table, have it indulge in the sweetest of wines as if it were nothing, as if it weren’t everything to him? And it’s only by luck that you’re still breathing now, that he hasn’t ripped out your throat to drink up every obscenely delicious drop of you.

But of course, you come with an excessive amount of luck—so much of it that it makes up for your lack of brains. Hells, the worst thing that has ever happened to you is the little fiend lingering behind your eye, the very same thing that has set him free after centuries of endless suffering, and he despises you. Astarion despises you so very much because you’re everything he isn’t, everything he has never been. Not even alive could he have held a candle to you, because you’re perfect and he is falling, and he hates that he is falling for you.

You with the soft lilt in your voice, a reminder of a language that weighs like lead on Astarion’s tongue. You with your easy smile that he can’t help but return with an unfamiliar one of his own. You with your blood that tastes like the very sun. Astarion hates that he never even stood a chance against you because you care. Because you either love sincerely or not at all. Because you somehow love him.

And he hates that his gaze keeps following the alluring sway of your hips; that he finds himself instinctively reaching for your hand whenever you hold it out to him, and that he hates it even more when you don’t.

He hates the way you say his name—not because you mock him for that childish name of his, no, but because it makes him want to hear it from your lips over and over and over again.

And most of all, he hates the way you speak of victory. How dare you make it sound so believable—probable, even? He hates how he trusts your words to come true, that real freedom is at his fingertips. If you think it’s possible, it has to be, doesn’t it…?

Yes, Astarion well and truly hates how much he wants you, trusts you, craves you. Your blood. Your smile. Your love. All of you. It makes him feel like an idiot because all you had to do to mess up his perfectly fine plan was to exist next to him. You are the stake hovering right above his heart, and he is so fucking scared of the inevitable impact. Because sooner or later, his love for you will bite him in the ass—it always does. It hasn’t happened yet, but here he is, already hurting.

It hurts Astarion to watch you get injured in battle, and it hurts even more to see your eyes frantically dart over him to make sure he’s alright after. It hurts that he wants to make love to you so badly but doesn’t quite know how. It hurts him to guard over your trances, to watch you struggle through each night, haunted by your very own ghosts—and that he can’t do anything to ease your suffering. It makes him feel weak, and he is tired of feeling this way, tired of being so fucking useless to you. You haven’t realised that he is nothing yet, but you will soon enough, and Astarion is afraid—always afraid that that will be the end of it. The end of him. Around you, he can feel his mask slip all too often, all too easily, and he is afraid of your blindingly loving gaze upon him. What do your golden eyes see?, he wonders, too afraid to ask. Why don’t you look away when you see him laid bare? He’s afraid that there’s something wrong with you, because how could it be any different?

In fact, Astarion is mostly afraid for you, because every day he learns that you’re not perfect at all. There are more knots in your hair than he can count, and you always seem to have a nasty sunburn spread across your shoulders. You sometimes cackle like a goose around the fire, and you’re too gullible, too good for your own good. And you can die so very easily…

Deep inside, Astarion is terrified that one day you will glide through his fingers like sunlight at dusk.

He’s terrified that there won’t be anything he can do to save you.

He’s terrified of what he might be willing to do to try anyway.

You wake from your restless trance with a choked cry. It seems like you always startle into consciousness, unsure of where you are even moments later. It’s not the first time that Astarion wonders what could possibly be haunting your memories, but the way you tremble and make yourself look smaller keeps reinforcing his sickening suspicions.

Forcing down the anger soaring through him, he leans over to where you’re lying next to him. Cooing softly, he brushes a strand of hair from your forehead, cautious to barely touch your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes lock with yours, and together you wait for the tightness in your chest to ease, your hurried breath to slow down. 

You grab his hand to hold it against your racing heart, and Astarion wants to tell you that you’re safe; lying is what he does best, after all. He can’t bring himself to say those false words, though, not to you—never again to you. He has already tainted so much of what you have together and although you’re not perfect, you’re special. This is special and he will do anything to make it last.

When your breath has calmed into a gentle rhythm again, Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, gently pulling your back against his chest. His lips are still warm from your blood circulating underneath his skin as he presses them against your temple.

“Rest,” he whispers. “I got your back, sunshine.” Astarion’s words are hesitant and shaky, even in his own pointy ears. Long years of disuse have perverted the inflection, and he doesn’t trust himself to say any more—not for now, at least.

It takes you a moment to realise that Astarion has spoken in your common mother tongue, but when you do, you tilt your head to find his almost timid gaze again.

“I know you do,” you answer, a lazy smile tugging at your lips, making your perfectly melodic words sound so much lovelier. “Thank you, Astarion.”  

The pale elf brushes his lips against yours. It’s a quick, sloppy kiss, and he doesn’t recall ever kissing someone like this before—rushed and imperfect; real. He takes in your smile one last time before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your warmth, your scent. Everything that is you. 

Astarion loves to be blinded by the sun.

[thinkingofausername]

reblog if you GENUINELY think you would get along with your fave

[dukeofdadykes]

I just got baldurs gate 3 a few weeks ago and ITS SO FUN AAA I’m already 100+ hours in and I haven’t even got past act 1 🙈✌️ here are some doodles of the save files I’ve created so far w/ my gf! 😼

[vspin]

I forgot to post this from the other night 😭😭

[mercymaker]

they can have a gentle and endearing moment. as a treat!

[birb--birb]

What kind of love are you?

Violet: Love as a Threshold

Your love does not ask for much. Your love does not take. Your love is free, and unquestioned, and here for wherever needs it. When you fall in love, it is as gentle as a breath in the night. It is quiet, and it is effortless. It is tender. If your love was a house, it would readily welcome all who come through. If your love was a hearth, it would warm the hands of whoever stopped by, whether for a day, a month, a year, or forever. When you fall for someone, it is without strings, without conditions, without need. You love for the sake of loving, for the sake of caring for those who need it. You love with a giver’s heart and a giver’s hands and are made so much stronger for it. Being loved by you is to always feel at home. Your love may not always be well-received by those unprepared to linger, but it is unforgettable all the same

The second I saw this answer for Violet I knew it was perfect. Their entire romance with Astarion was about patience. Waiting for him to realize that he's truly safe with them, that they doesn't expect anything from him, that he is in the lead here and they'll follow only when he's ready and okay. And waiting without judgement, Violet knows these things take time and they were more than willing to wait, to be there, to just sit and exist with him while he figures shit out. And when he truly let Violet in, I like to think it was like with a comforting sigh, the feeling of coming home, that feeling when all pressure is lifted and you can just *exist* without fear, without judgement.

Violet has seen violence and hatred and yet chooses to show up for those they love as a place of calm and stability, without judgement, without expectations. Violet's love is patient, it doesn't expect anything back but will give you everything just because we all deserve to feel warmth and safety. They feel so much warmth in their heart that they were able to help Astarion get to a place where he feels safe. I think even if they didn't fall in love or end up together, Violet would have still shown up for him in the same way. They know what suffering is like, they've gone through enough of it themselves and come out the other end alive. They know how much it hurts, but also how much easier it is with someone to lean on.

tagged by @cleric4vampire ty for enabling so many feelies about my bbys

Tagging: @justabiteofspite and @dragon--sage (I know yall were already tagged but doing so again for funzies cause I'd love to hear about your Tavs/Durges) and anyone who wants to join in, please do!!

[lowkey-tunes]

Silver Dollars - Julie Christmas

Celebrating the new release of a band I have loved for many years.

[whiskeyskin]

Dancing with a Professional

Premise: Quick drabble of a sexy thought that flashed across my TV and had to be adapted for BG3.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • M rating •

Gn!Tav POV, passion, teasing, pushed against a wall, a lil' butthol-e action, Tav being a little bit of an asshole

300 words

Props to @mordred for this beautiful piece of our boy 😚✨

_____________________________

•°•°•

Tav's chest collided roughly with the wall, a firm body pressed against their back. Lips and teeth bit and sucked and kissed along their neck and across their shoulders. Fingers roamed, cupped and caressed their body, then tangled into their hair with a firm and slow tug.

They let out a moaning sigh, "Ohh, Gale." A sinful smirk curved their lips.

Suddenly, they were whipped about and shoved against the wall.

"Oh, my darling. You will so very much pay for that." Growled Astarion through a pissed off, lustful haze.

"Gods, I hope so." Tav moaned through a playful smile, grabbed his lapels and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

Air huffed out of Tav's lungs as Astarion landed on them, a sinful grin of his own plastered across his face.

He took no time in pushing up their nightshirt and yanking their underwear down their legs. A tangle of each others tongues and teeth assaulted their mouths, as Astarion stepped on the crotch of the underwear and grasped their thigh to hook it over his hip.

He rolled this thick, clothed erection against their heat and arousal and grinded them hard into the wall.

His feather light touch teased the creases of their hips. Tortuously, but not entirely, touching them.

His palm glided flat against the meat of their ass to grasp it, while two fingers fluttered against the cleft, causing their hole to pucker.

Tav groaned, frustrated against his mouth, "Is this your idea of punishment?" They asked with an irked brow, feigning indifference.

"Perish the thought. You dare to dance with a professional, darling. You'll get what you deserve."

•°•°•

Y'all want some more of that BG3 dick? 👀

[sunsetagain]

Guide of an ongoing BG3 comic: HANG THE DJ (Black Mirror AU)

BG3 x Black Mirror (season 4 episode 4) modern AU comic series.

Outline: Astarion and Karlach on their first date under the Absolute's command.

Main ship is Astarion + Karlach. But it's a multi-ship story as the original TV show is. I will tag ship name in every update. Please read with caution.

Check this Linktree if you prefer reading on other platforms.

You can also check Work in Progress tag to see single panels I was working on.

中文版

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Comic Index:

Chapter 1

Part 1 (8 pages) Astarion + Karlach Part 2 (8 pages) Astarion + Karlach Part 3 (8 pages) Astarion + Karlach Part 4 (3 pages) Astarion + Karlach

Chapter 2 in progress Chapter 3 in progress Chapter 4 in progress Chapter 5 in progress

To be updated.

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before something new pops up in here perhaps you wanna read my old BG3 comics to kill the time :)

► I Need Protection (4p)

BG3 x DBH. Astarion Kamski and his android KC100 Karlach. 

► Tabula Rasa (blank slate/empty sheet) (22p)

Before Withers invites them to the party, Ascendant Astarion tries his best to regain Karlach's love in the Nine Hells.

► My Heart’s an Empty Vase Looking for Roses (20p)

Spawn Astarion and Karlach talking about their plan in Avernus after the game.

► Sunburn (3p)

Spawn Astarion with Volo’s eye.

[bananasfosterparent]

@thewillowbends Hope it's okay I moved to text post, it seemed like a better idea.

First, let me be clear: People can write whatever they want and I'm not saying they can't or shouldn't.

----

"If Tav is happily evil, then we’re back to the issue of limits in the narrative functionality beyond shorter works."

If Tav HAS to be a meek, regretful abuse victim in order for a story to be lengthy and meaningful, then that is 100% a skill and creativity issue of the writer. Either them not having the ability to see the story from another perspective, or them not having the creativity level to consider other canon-friendly manifestations of the Evil Tav x Asc Astarion relationship. Those "limits" you speak of are only limits if you allow them to be and don't let yourself grow as a writer.

"As it is, game is pretty blunt about how the story of spawn Tav ends"

The game is not blunt at all. The game gives us NO ending to that. It's up to the player. The closest we have to an idea of an ending for "spawn" Tav, is this datamined title card:

(read image description for transcription)

While this was cut from the official release of the game (like all the epilogue content), it still shows what Larian had/has in mind for the direction of the Asc ending. And it's got no hints about abuse.

Astarion tells you as much if you break up with him — “I would’ve ruined your love, used your trust.”

This is called metagaming. BG3 is not like a tv show where all the little dots connect and line up. BG3 is a "choose your own adventure" novel in video game form. It works just the same. So any choices or options you DO NOT select are NOT TRUE for your character in that playthrough. So nothing Spawn Astarion says in that ending matters in regards to a playthrough with the Ascended ending. Nothing Asc Astarion says matters in regards to a playthrough with the Spawn ending. In BOTH endings, he thanks Tav genuinely, fully appreciates the choice, is glad the opposite choice wasn't made, and wants Tav to choose what their next adventure will be. Both endings have to be worthwhile and feel satisfying for the player, and the best way to do that is to have Astarion genuinely appreciate what Tav has done, in BOTH endings. And he does.

"it’s a story about cycles and the destruction of life. It’s telling you what Astarion will become because Cazador used to be in his position."

It's telling who Cazedor was and his story. That doesn't mean Astarion is doomed to repeat it. Or that a specific ending IS him repeating it. There is no warning of such. It CAN go that way, but nothing in-game says it has to. Because breaking "the cycle" isn't one specific thing. And he breaks cycles in BOTH endings.

Astarion's story is about corruption and choosing to either become more corrupt (than he already is) or try to live by the rules of society and just accept how things are. In the Spawn ending he talks about the "cycle of power", meaning the cycle of vampire culture that thrives on a pyramid of power. He is free of that headache and appreciates that. As to the quote you mention, Astarion is speculating about ascension. He has no idea what would have actually happened, he can only guess. He is an opportunistic optimist so he'd more likely see the path he couldn't take as one he shouldn't have anyway. And having him say that in-game for that ending, makes that ending feel worth it for the player.

In the Asc ending, he breaks the cycles of loneliness, living in darkness, selfishness, hunger, and wants to treat his own spawn better than Cazedor ever did. Astarion hates the word spawn and chooses to call his future ones his "children" instead. He loves the sun, it's symbolic for him. Yet, he is fully willing, without hesitation, to give up something he loves so much, so that his "children" can thrive in a world that is shrouded in fog. He also takes on a consort (vampire bride/groom) and wants to share that power, something Cazedor did not do (as far as we know).

You can break away from Larian’s story, certainly, but a lot of fanfic writers are trying to stick to what was extant within the media itself. At some point, if you pull too far away from it, you’re just writing an original story, and the issue most writers then run into is…why not turn it fully original and publish it then?

Here's the problem with this: Larian's story IS BOTH endings. There is no metaphorical build up in the game that sets up *only* the Spawn ending as his "real" or "true" ending. It's a metaphorical build up that can have TWO different solutions. One being reject the power and accept life as it is. The other being usurp power and rewrite the rules. Ascension is never shown to be a truly evil or bad thing. The worst part of it is sacrificing the 7000 spawn. But if Tav/Durge rationalizes this, there are no real negatives. The only negatives may be if one does not vibe with his confidence boost and prefers him more docile. The whole last statement you've made and way of thinking makes it seem like his Spawn ending is the real one and his Ascended ending is just some "fun and sexy" alternative but invalid thing you can do.

His story arc is BOTH endings. They are both just as bad and as good as the other, it's just a matter of what works for your Tav/Durge and for you as the player. He does not have ONE TRUE ENDING. You choose the lesser of two evils. Which one is "lesser" depends entirely on the player and Tav/Durge as individuals.

If ANYTHING, writing Ascended Astarion as an abusive, uncaring, unloving monster is just writing an original story and not sticking to what is within the game itself. Not the other way around.

Also, as a last comment... a fanfiction does not have to be a 70 chapter epic. It can be 1-3 chapters and be a complete work. Or just one chapter. Or a few paragraphs. But Tav and Astarion being happily evil together shouldn't be a reason you can't write a lengthy and fleshed out story. That's just lack of creativity. Spawn ending fans outnumber Asc ending fans, and most Spawn fans have a negative view of Asc Astarion. So that's more likely the reason why we never see many happily evil Tav x Astarion fics.

[z0mibite]

gif by @prusetch

To be continued...? Let me know 🫠

pairing – nikolai (beyond the rave) x gn!reader

warnings – general vampire stuff, blood/blood drinking, no explicit sexual tension, but cmon, we know why we're reading this, gassing (like in the movie), readers skin is described as 'paling' due to blood loss but not pale.

word count – roughly under 600

n/a – got random inspiration for nikolai after a comment from the lovely @astarions-bride. You all can thank them for this masterpiece. Also, hypothetically, if I continued this, the title would be oddities and curiosities.

You shivered as the temperature within you plummeted, contrasting with the warmth of the firelight from the metal bin nearby. Despite the heated atmosphere, you felt your nerves begin to feel like a grainy tv screen at the oncoming numbness, which was alleviated only by the pain in your neck—your life force surrendered to the vampire. Each lap of his tongue against the wound was punctuated by guttural gulps as he drank your essence. His demeanor bordered on feral, growling and twitching like a starved beast.

Considering he technically was non-human, his animalistic instincts shouldn't surprise you. With each pulse of your blood, moments lingered in the stillness. His consumption is punctuated by ragged breaths, despite the unneed to breathe. He withdrew from your artery after taking notice of your body's cue, the shallow of your breath, the speeding cadence of your heart, and the paling, chilled skin rivaled only by his own.

As he withdrew, a haunting stillness settled over the chamber. In the flickering firelight, shadows danced upon his pronounced features, casting light upon his face, now blushed with your blood. The rosy tint was not merely a visual change; he felt the pulsating warmth coursing through him. Every heartbeat, every surge of life that originated from your veins, manifested as an internal warmth. The heat of your blood became a living caress.

Silence lingered, pregnant with the weight of unspoken desires. His feral demeanor softened, replaced by a contemplative gaze that hinted at centuries of existence. As you lay there, the vampire's voice, resonant and velvety, pierced the quiet.

“You taste different from the others…” Nikolai's words, almost a question rather than a statement, a revelation. From the beginning, he had noticed an oddity with you, a nuance that set you apart. It was this oddity that guided his fangs directly to your neck, unable to wait for the others to drain you dry.

Nikolai confessed to the uniqueness he had sensed in you. A scent, an intoxicating aroma, had wafted from underneath your skin. As his fangs pierced your neck, it wasn't merely a physical need that drove him, but an insatiable craving for the flavor that danced within your essence.

He stared you down, his gaze flickering around your face and body as he inhaled your scent deeply once more. His pupils made his eyes appear almost completely black, only a small ring of blue visible to you with the close proximity. He guided his hand to the side of your neck, his thumb pushing your jawline up as he admired the crimson dripping from the punctures.

Heavy eyelids try to succumb to the combined effects of the gas and the loss of blood, coaxing your body to rest and recover. Each blink became a strenuous effort, it was exhausting just to reopen your eyes. Yet, with each strained effort to lift the veil of fatigue, your gaze persisted, meeting his, full of vulnerability and resilience.

Without clear reason, you wanted to show your strength, to prove your worthiness to him. Worthy of what, you weren't sure. Whether fueled by delirium or the ambiguity of your state, the only certainty that anchored you was the persistent thread of curiosity that connected your gaze to his.

In the windows where a soul should be, a faint trace lingers, revealing a shadow of the one who once was. A vampire, forbidden the warmth of a soul yet touched by a distant, delicate presence. As your eyes meet, you contemplate if the faint trace of a soul in his eyes is merely a reflection of your own.

[chloesolace]

Taylor Swift Inspired One-Shot Series

A series of multifandom one-shots inspired by Taylor Swift songs that I will write in the coming weeks and gradually add to. The one-shots will be linked on my masterlist and here

Baldur's Gate 3

My Tears Ricochet - Astarion x Reader

False God - Raphael x Reader

Would've, Could've, Should've - Gale x Reader ++TBA++

Marvel Cinematic Universe

I Can See You - Doctor Strange x Reader

Cowboy Like Me - Loki x Reader ++TBA++

Afterglow - Wanda Maximoff x Reader ++TBA++

House of the Dragon

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys - Daemon Targaryen x Reader ++TBA++

Maroon - Aemond Targaryen x Reader ++TBA++

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can) - Aegon II Targaryen x Reader ++TBA++

The Hobbit

Midnight Rain - Thranduil x Reader

Wizarding World

The Last Great American Dynasty - Lucius Malfoy x Reader

The Boys (TV)

Is It Over Now? - Homelander x Reader

The Great War - Soldier Boy x Reader ++TBA++

Hannibal (TV)

The Lakes - Hannibal Lecter x Reader

Grey's Anatomy

Dress - Izzie Stevens X Denny Duquette ++TBA++

[astarionposting]

Thank you @korcariiwitch for tagging me <3

20 TAV/OC QUESTIONS

[img credit]

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

mint, lavender, rosemary and a hint of vanilla.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

i dunno, like blood usually does lol, or whatever blood with a lot of wine in it tastes like.. maybe she'd get them drunk

III. how would they kiss their LI?

she is quite reserved, so gently/discreetly in front of others (or just not at all), and more passionate in private.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

Always steals the furry blankets, either doesn't really cuddle bc she is sweating under the fur blanket or has her leg over her LI if it is really cold hehe

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

Cozy warm tones with a lot of candles, pretty much a fire hazard, incense and oils burning, a lot of furs for her bedding area, and decorated with dried flowers, medicinal herbs and animal bones, mostly deer. Prefers to be away from water and in a more seculded/quiet area.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

A dark navy with bronze accents. Deer/dragon style engravings.

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

Medicinal herbs, dried flowers and animal bones (as previously mentioned) as she believes everything can serve a purpose, even in death.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

definitely astarion/gale club, but she mostly focuses on studying history and medical stuff

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

She gets along with everyone pretty much, but I'd say she would butt heads with Astarion on certain things, such as always having half-assed plans and rushing into things, and maybe Sharran Shadowheart due to her own religious beliefs.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

speak with the dead, as much as she loves animals.

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

meh.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

Not sure who would, but probably talking about her decision to get a giant septum ring of an elk post-resurrection lol... maybe Karlach, but in a good way, like she also wants to get a piercing to match

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

A very quiet and brief laugh; I would say when she is having a genuine conversation with someone she cares about, mostly laughing over Gale's jokes. It is mostly a breathy laugh that comes out of her nose. otherwise, it is mostly a sarcastic scoff at lack of common sense/general stupidity. Having a father who barely smiled/laughed himself, she kind of mirrors the same behaviour.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She isn't really the type. I also am bad at coming up with jokes :)

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

my mods are messed up so it just says 'not found' lol... it is jaheria's camp outfit

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

i dont have any on her... lol NOT BC IM A PERVERT BUT BC I JUST NEVER SEE THEM SO I DIDNT BOTHER

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

She is a noble lady, so probably a large feast (with lots and lots of mead and wine) would be held in celebration. A lot of music and dancing, entertainment, often in form of live competitions, are held, gifts, etc... but as she prefers the quiet, she always sneaks away as soon as everyone is too drunk to notice lol

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

Nature documentaries lol, I think she would be fascinated by National Geographic docs for suuure, and she would probably attempt to get her LI to watch them too out of pure excitement.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

I do! It is just named after her lol, I guess the songs align with her personal arc that I am roughly/poorly developing in my brain

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

Probably something that reminds her of home or a loved one, maybe a stone or a small gift that is sentimental to her.

I FORGOT TO TAG AGAIN: @julietvoid, @cheekylittlepupp, @dark-and-kawaii, @punk-muffins, @anderwelt aaand anyone else who wants to! if u have already done u can ignore or u just dont have to do it at all lol

[yuniex07]

The Magnificent Century

Ok i've been rewatching this tv drama, and as a sucker for historical stories along with middle east aesthetics and culture...I had an urge to make a sort of adaptation/mix with my current obsession: BG3.

So this is an AU, where the ottoman empire will be represented by the vampire coven belonged to Cazador, ruling and conquering all the regions around Baldur's Gate.

Warning: I'm nowhere near to be a decent writer plus, english is not my mother language soo, I'm sorry in advance. Other from that, this is the draft or prelude chapter so nothing to warn unless you count the inplications of a boylove interaction triggers you somehow ?

In future chapters, if i dont get dissapointed in my ugly writting abilities theres going to be harem/noncon/pansexual/domsub/a little bit of Stockholm syndrome? who knows...

Words: 2151 ( honestly how people can write more than this? i was suffering!)

Pairing: for now Pansexual Astarion/Sebastian later Astarion x F!Tav(Lyanna/Love)

Read under the cut

Chapter 1: A new dynasty

In the year 1492 DR, amidst the intricate streets of Baldur's Gate's upper city, the Szarr Palace loomed ominously. Its gothic spires cast long shadows in the fading light of the sunset, forming an imposing silhouette against the darkening horizon. The palace pulsed with unsettling energy; guards and servants weaved through its corridors, torches and candles flickered along the grand halls, casting dancing shadows on opulent walls adorned with tapestries and gilded frames. The air held a palpable tension, thick with anticipation.

Outside the formidable structure, a figure clad in black leather carried a scroll sealed with crimson wax, imprinted with the family crest—a set of two groups of five rats and five mice intertwined by their tails in an inner and outer circle. The contents of this scroll would set into motion a series of events with far-reaching consequences. Approaching a similarly outfitted man mounted upon a steed that seemed to emerge from the depths of the netherworld, the messenger wasted no time. With unearthly speed, the horse thundered through the palace gates, its hooves echoing against cobblestones as it raced into the night. As the horse and rider vanished into the shadows, the wheels of fate began to turn.

Meanwhile, on a distant battlefield illuminated by the moon's pale glow, a bloody clash unfolded. An elven warrior, his red eyes ablaze with the thrill of battle, charged toward his next target with unparalleled speed. His pale skin was adorned with the blood of foes, much like the white locks that peeked out from beneath his war helm. With a swift swing of his short blade, he unbalanced an opponent, creating an opening to plunge a dagger into the enemy's eye, extinguishing its life in an instant. The elven warrior reveled in his prowess; his pale skin glowed in contrast to his black and red armor. The Szarr sigil on his chest delivered a silver gleam under the dim light. Behind him, figures clad in similar armor finished off the remnants of the enemy's army, their triumphant cheers echoing through the battlefield—a declaration of the Szarrs' indomitable might.

The Dragon Coast now lay under their control, a strategic stronghold for dominating trading routes and, inevitably, the region of Cormyr.

The elven warrior walked toward his tent, three figures following close behind. “Master Astarion,” a young human man said. He had fair skin, ash-blonde hair ending at his shoulders, brown eyes, and a middle-muscle frame. “We are so close to reclaiming the whole region under the crimson’s dynasty. Lord Cazador will be delighted,” the pale elf stood still at the mention of his master and progenitor.

Hearing his name ignited discomfort and fury in him. “To be honest, I could care less about what the old wretch thinks, Sebastian. Remember, we are just mere pawns to dispose of for his great conquests,” the elf said, concealing his annoyance.

“Be careful with your words, Astarion,” another man responded. His right eye was of white stone, scars adorned his face, and he had a rich, deep skin tone. But his more prominent feature was a couple of horns adorning his head. “Or what, Wyll? Are you going to tell the old bastard? Warlocks like you are a pain in the ass, always loyal to their masters,” Astarion said with venom in his voice.

“Just trying to save your sorry ass from another year locked in a tomb,” Wyll replied mockingly. Astarion’s eyes opened, and rage invaded his features. “You come and say that again!” he said dangerously approaching Wyll.

The third figure finally intervened, placing herself in the middle of them. “Enough, you two!” she commanded. The woman had a strong build, clearly a warrior with expertise, crimson skin, one horn on her head, and a fiery gold gaze.

“We've had enough blood and fights for a day. Can’t we just rest and clean up all the gore? You two do look like shit.”

“Say that to him, Karlach!” Astarion replied. “If you weren’t one of the master’s spawns I would’ve kicked your ass long time ago” – Wyll answered.

“That is also inappropriate commander Ravengard; our Lord’s spawns are like an extension of himself. You need to show him some respect” -Sebastian said

“Tsk”- Wyll, let out. “Unfortunately, Leon was the most suited for this crusade, and now I have to be stuck with the sharp-tongued one.”

“Too bad my little brother disobeyed Cazador and had to run away with that kid. Now he is been chased to face something worst to dead if he gets caught” - Astarion says in fake mockery, hiding emotions he dared to not show. Deep down he felt sorry for his “bother”.

“There’s time before the sunrise, everyone go get cleaned while the brigade returns with our war loot, then we will able to discuss our next moves.”- Astarion commanded, as the other three figures nod and turn around to leave him in his tend. Astarion takes off his helmet, unleashing rebellious white curls falling down his forehead, placing the helmet on the war table he begins to unlock the strands holding his black armor.

“I thought I said to go clean up, Sebastian”-Astarion says as he feels the presence behind him. The top side of his armor falls heavily on the floor.

“I know…I just wondered if the master needed help with his bath” -Sebastian replied. Astarion turned around to face him, revealing his chiseled torso uncovered and shimmering by the sweat mixed with a bit of blood, “Is that so?”- He said while raising an eyebrow and a smirk on his face, “Then by all means, help me out with my boots”. Sebastian nodded and kneeled in front of him to begin untying Astarion’s boots.

Once he finished, while still kneeling Astarion took Sebastian’s hair and pulled in a way to make him face him. “Good boy, now…work on my pants, then, you can help me with my bath”. Sebastian just grinned and nodded, “As my master commands”.

Far away from the war camp, the vampiric forces continued to loot the nearby villages, burning houses and reuniting the survivors that could serve as military or slaves. A small group of six people were running from the riot, within them two silhouettes leading them trying to get away by blending with the shadows of the buildings.

The smaller figure among them was sobbing and shaking, “Shh…Hayleen, you need to be quiet or they will find us”, -The bigger figure whispered, trying to soothe the little child. – “I’m scared, sister” – the child sobbed. – “They…they killed adar and naneth”.

The oldest on the pair frowned with a pained expression, she couldn’t help their parents, they gave their life to allow them to run, protecting her little sister was all she can do to honor their sacrifice. “I know! but you have to be strong for them.” - The child nodded and dried her tears with the inside of her sleeve.

The bigger sister peeked around a corner, no one in sight, “Alright, lets go and don’t look back”, they were so close to reach the woods, there was a hidden cabin by the lake deep in the woods, with a bit of luck, a boat might still be there. They could row until they reach Cormyr. “Just a little more, Hayleen” -Lathander have mercy on them, she thought. Suddenly three arrows landed in front of them, stopping their advance, no, was all she could think, “Everyone run!”- she said, while several dark horses and their riders approached them. There was no time, they were going to capture them both if she doesn’t do anything, “Take Hayleen, everyone get closer!”.

“NOO! Lyanna! Don’t leave me!” – Hayleen screamed to her sister as she was hold by another woman. Lyanna enveloped her sister and the other escapees with a sacret light, she never tried this conjure before, but it was her only choice. Her eyes glowed with divine light “Morning lord! lend me your strength! Word of recall!” a light orb surrounded all the survivors but herself, the conjure could only carry five people to safety.

The crying face of her sister was the last thing she remembered, what happened next was too fast, the riders reached to her a whip hold onto her ankle before she could have time to react and give in a fight, the movement of the horse rider made her fall and she was violently pulled a few meters before they stopped, her head hit the ground hard enough to leave her stunned. Her eyesight blurred as she as falling unconscious, the rest she remembers from that night was only darkness.

Astarion was comfortable lying in the tub, eyes closed as the warm water soothed him. “You seem more relaxed now” – Sebastian said as he delicately scrubbed Astarion’s torso with a sponge as he settles in, leaning his head on the pale elf shoulder. Astarion chuckles – “I might be…thanks to the good company”

“And some pampering, as much as the bloody semblance suits you, that helmet did outrageous things to your hair. Now you look back to normal” – Sebastian remarked as he tucked a lock of silver hair behind the elf's pointed ears. “Darling, you wound me! You know I would look fabulous even covered in mud and dirt” – the elf replied moving his hand with disdain.

Both men were enjoying a little peace until they hear a commotion outside the tent, looking at each other they hurried to put on some clothes to investigate the noises.

The night hung heavy over the war camp, shrouded in darkness and punctuated by the distant sounds of looting and chaos. Astarion and Sebastian hastily dressed up with comfortable clothes, knives and swords in hand, the commotion outside growing louder. They exited the tent, senses heightened, ready to face whatever disturbance awaited them.

As they stepped out into the night air, a rider emerged from the shadows, mounted on a horse that seemed to meld with the darkness itself. The steed's eyes glowed an eerie crimson, mirroring the seal on the scroll the rider held in his hand. Astarion recognized the rider as one of Cazador's palace messengers.

The rider dismounted gracefully, approaching Astarion with a deep bow. "My master Astarion, I bring grave tidings from the palace," the messenger said, his voice low and respectful. Astarion's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anticipation in his gaze.

"What news?" Astarion demanded, his tone betraying a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Sebastian stood by his side, observing the unfolding scene with a vigilant gaze.

The messenger handed the sealed scroll to Astarion. The crimson wax bore the imprint of Cazador's family crest—the two groups of five rats and five mice intertwined in an intricate pattern. Astarion broke the seal, unfurling the parchment.

The words inscribed on the scroll revealed the fate that had befallen Cazador Szarr. Astarion's eyes scanned the lines, absorbing the news of his master's demise. The air around him seemed to grow heavier, a moment of silence hanging in the balance.

Astarion's expression remained stoic, but a storm brewed beneath the surface. The messenger spoke cautiously, "Lord Cazador met his end in the pursuit of greater power. The Ritual of Profane Ascension has claimed him. He sought to transcend the limitations of vampirism but succumbed to it. All his spawns are to come back to the palace with ease as a new successor must be selected”

Astarion's grip on the scroll tightened, his jaw clenched. Sebastian placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, silently acknowledging the weight of the news. The rest of the camp, unaware of the unfolding drama, continued with its nocturnal activities.

"My master, by the decree of the coven, you or any of the other male spawns, are eligible to ascend and become the new ruler of the coven" the messenger continued, sensing the shift in power dynamics.

Astarion's eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—grief? No, far from it, it was a thirst for the newfound opportunity, and the power that could be in the palm of its hands.

"Thank you for delivering this news. Return to the palace; tell them I will make my way there immediately," Astarion commanded, dismissing the messenger. The rider bowed once more, mounted his shadowy steed, and disappeared into the night, leaving the camp in the wake of Cazador's demise and Astarion's road for ascension.

Sebastian turned to Astarion, his expression a mix of concern and loyalty. "What will you do now, my Lord?"

Astarion gazed into the distance, the campfires flickering like distant stars. "Prepare for a new era, Sebastian. The throne is mine for the taking, and the coven will bow to its new master."

As the words hung in the air, the vampire spawn contemplated the path ahead—the challenges, the opportunities, and the uncharted territories of leadership that awaited him under the moonlit sky.

[rphunter]

21+. She/Her. Looking for 21+ writing partners for my five biggest fandom obsessions right now.

I write on Discord or through Tumblr messages. Third person, past tense and typically around 200-400 words. I work full-time during the week so I can't guarantee daily replies. I try to get them up as soon as I can, which may only be a day or could be closer to 3-5 days, so patience is a must. I don't expect perfect grammar but average to above average is what I tend to look for. I may ask for a writing sample, and you may ask me for the same.

I'm mainly looking for canon x canon pairings but canon x OC and OC x OC are on the table. MxM ships are my preference. I'm open to taking on a limited amount of MxF. As far as plots go, as long as it makes sense within the universe, I'll generally be okay with it. I'm okay with keeping things clean or writing NSFW/smut. Just let me know what you're looking for there.

I'll be listing my main muses for each fandom. I have my favorite ships for each, but I'm open to discussing plenty of others.

Baldur's Gate 3 (BG3):

Abdirak

Arvir (m!OC ; Tiefling ; Cleric of Bane),

Astarion

Elkantar (m!OC ; Durge ; Drow ; Sorcerer)

Gale Dekarios

Ketheric Thorm

Raphael

Rolan

Zevlor

Wyll Ravengard

Doctor Who (DW):

Dhawan!Master

Eleventh Doctor

Fifth Doctor

Rogue

Sixth Doctor

Interview with the Vampire (IWTV ; TV show only):

Armand

Lestat de Lioncourt

Louis de Pointe du Lac

Marvel/Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU):

Benjamin Poindexter

Billy Russo

Bucky Barnes

Loki Laufeyson

Nathan Summers

Andrew!Peter Parker

Ray Nadeem

Tony Stark

The X-Files (TXF):

Alex Krycek

CGB Spender/The Cigarette Smoking Man

Fox Mulder

John Doggett

Walter Skinner

Like this post, if you'd like to work something out, and I'll get back to you ASAP.

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