#BG3 fics

[oceanatydes]

you mean to tell me, gale dekarios, the man who wove stars into the sky to tell you he loved you, who literally made love with you in the astral plane, just says "i suppose i am" at the epilogue if you ask him if he's proposing to you? he doesn't even actually ask you? gale, the most romantic, loving, fervently devoted lover of the bg3 characters?

[shadowfalllen]

When it's time to defeat the Absolute, Shadowheart seizes the moment and ascends into godhood. You are a simple citizen of Baldur's Gate whose world gets turned upside down as the Goddess of Silver and Shadow arrives and molds the city into her image. And tonight, you have been chosen to be her entertainment...

[halfmoth-halfman]

The Ways That I Love You

Pairing: Wyll Ravengard x GN!Reader Word Count: ~700 Warnings: fluff, mild angst, minor blood and gore

You’ve never said the words to each other.

You probably never will.

But you both know.

It’s in the way Wyll laughs, loud and carefree, when you tell him a joke.

He’s a beacon in the darkness that surrounds your little camp, the fire’s glow burning a beautiful amber on his rich, brown skin. His smile is wide, brighter than the fire between you, his happiness so infectious, you can’t help but smile too. Very few can pull this kind of laughter from him, but you meet his eyes and know. It’s only you that can give him such joy — such ease, such comfort — to make him forget the burdens of his past that constantly loom over him. It’s only you. It’ll only ever be you.

It’s in the way you help him clean his horns after a battle.

He’s adapted to their weight, learned to balance his curved crown in battle, and how to sleep without straining his neck. The sensitivity, though… He’s never been fond of the gore staining his armor and skin after a battle, but the feel of blood dripping from his horns fills him with a new type of sick. He never complains, but the slight twitches of his head tell you everything you need to know.

You wait until you’re alone, absconding with Wyll into your shared tent. Head carefully resting in your lap, you pick through the viscera tangled in his horns and meticulously wipe them until they shine. It’s become a ritual for you, tending to the other half of your heart as he dozes against your thighs. It almost slips from your tongue then, held back at the last moment, but he feels the tenderness of your touch and he knows.

It’s in the way he holds out his hand, a silent ask to join his midnight dance.

It’s probably an inappropriate time to dance, but is there ever an appropriate time when you’re fighting the clock and a parasite in your brain? Neither of you can sleep, staring into the dying fire as you listen to your companions snore from their tents. A log pops, faint sparks shooting toward your feet, and Wyll stands.

He presents his hand, softened gaze watching and waiting for your answer. You take it without hesitation, letting him pull you in a waltz you’ve done so many times before. It’s clumsy, the only sounds your feet in the dirt and muffled laughter, but it’s perfect. A quiet moment to forget the world that is forever crashing down around you meant only to be shared between the two of you.

It’s in the way you wake before him, lying still to let him sleep just a bit longer.

Days, weeks, months of endless travel takes its toll on all of you. Never one to complain, Wyll doesn’t speak on how tired he is, how every morning is just a bit harder to get through than the last. You don’t need him to tell you; you feel the ache in your bones, the weight pulling at your limbs. With the role of leader so graciously thrusted upon you, you know you’re meant to up and ready at every daybreak, but he looks so peaceful sleeping beside you.

You keep still, content to listen to the steady rhythm of his heart and ignore the telltale sounds of your companions beginning to rise. You let him sleep until the sun’s risen, gently shaking him when Karlach begins to call for breakfast. He huffs every time, but can’t deny how much better he feels. After a few minutes of playful arguing and someone coming to check on you, he thanks you with a kiss. He makes you promise not to do it again, and you seal it with a kiss and your fingers crossed behind your back.

It’s in the way you carry each other through this adventure, keeping one another grounded amidst the chaos and blood and reality-shattering revelations.

It’s in the way you defend him against his patron, unwavering even when she taunts and threatens you and swearing on every god, known and unknown, to help him escape her grasp.

It’s in the way you vow to stay by his side long after you draw your last breath — your souls are bound in this life and every life after — and he draws his blade to pledge himself to you.

No, you’ve never said the words to each other.

Maybe you never will.

But you both know, and that's all you need.

[reverieblondie]

WIP Wednesday

Hello! I promise I have not disappeared I've just been hammering away on my WIPS, with working having started up for me again it's been an adjustment to find time to write. Hopefully that changes soon!

My list of thinks I've been working on:

Taste so sweet

Oops

Zevlor with ex-goddess

Dark Prince Rolan: Chapter 2

Remember Me: part 2

Now, snippets for your enjoyment,

Taste so sweet:

“Just one kiss huh? You sure about that Tav?” - Gods… does his voice get richer by the day? Is it the drink or has he always been this alluring and down right cocky? 

You place your hand to his knee feeling the heat that radiates from underneath the cloth of his pants, your smile is all desire and taunts, “Well, unless you beg me for more…” 

Rolans smile widens before he looks over his shoulder to see Lia dancing with Karlach and Shadowheart, while Cal plays with the braids in Lae’zels hair as she speaks of her last adventure. Rolan turns back to you, his hand coming over yours as he tries to mask his grin but failing horribly. 

“Well, let’s find somewhere more…private perhaps…” 

It's then you tugging his hand, having him follow your swaying trail, as you two make your way to a dark closet located in the back of the tavern…

****

You practically push him into the isolated room and shut the door behind you, Rolan manages a laugh before he's grabbing your face and pulling you closer to crash into his soft lips. Rolan guides your body to press against his and you can’t help but gasp at the seer heat of him, every part feels so good and his body is so warm. His knee slips between your legs and he gathers a fist full of your hair in his clawed hands, nothing to hurt but just to feel the want burning through him. It's while he’s casually adjusting you to straddle his knee that a stray thought crosses your mind, he's…good at this?

Oops...:

You're still unclear exactly why this started happening, maybe it's something he does to his other 'Client's’ or maybe it's in the contract? Well, other than him randomly popping in he's not bothering anything… not really...

You pause before inserting your key through your door, maybe you could get him to help with chores. Images of Rapheal helping you fold your linens, washing dishes, and helping cook run through your mind. Though the images of Raphael makes a warmth spread over your face, you're pretty sure the princelying is a bit too prim for all of that work. Perhaps he could be taught? Or maybe useful in other ways.

Before those thoughts can bloom you turn the key and enter your home. Once in you place your keys on the hook and put down your bag, You pause for a second before taking the chance,

"Hello Raphael~"

"Welcome home Mouse~” Raphael's smooth voice purrs out from the direction of your small living room. Looks like your guess was spot on. 

Walking in further you make your way to your kitchen you peep at Raphael looking perfectly at home lounging back on your chaste. It's not until you're putting away your groceries from the market that Raphael's looking up from this book. A small smile curls to his lips as he peeks at your form, so relaxed these calmer days.

Dark Prince Rolan Chapter 2:

Tav leans out of the window letting the chill over take her, she really shouldn't ne nervous... The prince- the King, Rolan is just a guy... and married couples do this all the time after their weddings... Plus its not like she is disappointed, he is handsome. Though she had hoped they would have talked a bit more after the ceremony to make this less nerve wracking. Perhaps that's what he likes... hearts racing, body shaking with uncertain anticipation, getting to know each others bodies first when everything is still painstakingly new. The first conversation with one other leading to tasting his breath.

A sudden rush floods over Tav's body making her blood feel hot, seluna help her... Closing the window back Tav finishes getting read, trying not to over think it. Sitting on the canopy bed Tav rubs the fragrance oils to soften her skin and to smell nice... hopefully this will impress him.

Tav pauses from rubbing the oil into her skin, impress him? Why impress him... well there's the obvious, but this...

Tav lays down and turns to the flicking flame, maybe she should snuff them out... or maybe that's for him to do... he could probably pinch it out with his fingers, the heat having no effect on his warm skin. Closing her eyes she imagines his warmth she has felt against her cheek just hours ago... The room bathed in darkness, the only light streaming from the window in a soft silver beam and two glowing eyes shinning in the darkness... Then he steps closer... and this feels real...

Slowly Rolan approaches, his lips in a smirk as he gets closer to her. Tav feels all the blood in her body rush to her face,

"Rolan-"

She's cut off by the feeling of his hands on her shoulders and his body now so close. The warmth just like at the ceremony... "I'll be gentle princess, I promise"

His voice rings through the darkness causing Tav to release a wanting yes. His touch now feeling like it's causing fire to run through her body. Tav keeps her eyes fixed on his as he slowly lowers her down. Rolans clawed hand starts to run down her silk slip as the other starts to undo his shirt. before she knows it the dark princes bare chest is over her as his sharp nails trace the soft skin of her thighs, inching underneath the hem of her slip. Tav's thighs tighten in response her heart racing... then his finger traces the wet spot of her underwear, now he knows how aroused she is... and he's loving every second of her embarrassment.

Hope you are looking forward to the stories! let me know what you think!

[inkymoonbunny]

Flare adjusts to new levels of intimacy

Read on AO3

Astarion lingered more with the tiefling youths, able to show them where their tails should move to help with balance, how to tilt their heads to duck beneath their opponents arms without catching their horns on a sleeve. In her weeks at the school, Flare had observed that Astarion remained one of the few adults the tiefling youths showed open admiration for, Dame Aylin and Halsin being the other two. Not that they were troublesome with others, but the awe in their expressions was so apparent with the three. Flare expected she was no better at times. 

The class ended and Astarion shooed away the kids to get their midday meal as he walked over to Flare. She snapped her journal closed before Astarion could peek at the blank pages. He smirked at her anyway, probably noticing that her pen had never moved while she sat looking. “Enjoy watching me, darling?” Astarion teased.

[vividdreamer]

hey yall i need some anrgy halsin fic recs. where are my hurt/comfort halsin fics at. i need my angst core halsin fics now.

[spacebarbarianweird]

I have plenty ideas for fics but I don't know which to choose. I think I will write all of them eventually but I'd like to know what my amazing readers and subscribers would prefer.

Really, you are awesome. I was hesitant about posting anything and now this blog (and your blogs as well) is a great source of comfort and inspiration to me.

• Scorching Sun. Astarion is waiting for the reader in the Inn after this awful ending scene where he almost burns to ashes. He is in pain and thinks the reader will never come to him coz they never needed him in the first place. Then, the reader comes back and they discuss what to do next. Tags: comfort, a lot of angst

• I will find you in my next life. Tav dies but Astarion keeps living since he promised not to step into the sunlight. Many centuries later a young person suddenly starts remembering their past life - and goes on a quest to find their vampire husband. Really lots of comfort.

• Little Bundle of Darkness. F!Tav gives birth to a little dhampir elf called Alethaine. I want to start with Tav realizing she is pregnant and end with the birth of the girl

• Past Sorrows. Tav tells Astarion about her past - how she was mistreated due to her origin (she is a half elf) and how she never thought she would be worthy of love or that anyone would want to be with her. Tags: hurt, comfort

[smt4flynn]

drink up

Warning: CNC, this can be potentially triggering, alcohol consumption, brief cunning linguistics, and implied somno. Minors do not interact.

This is operating under the assumption that all of this was negotiated off-screen and that both characters are aware of what is going on in the act.

AO3 tags:

This was an anon request that I posted on AO3 and I'm now posting here! ('-')b I hope you enjoy!

I forgot to mention this uses gendered terms and is assumed f!reader.

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

Nervousness radiates from you, anyone in the bar can tell. Just looking at you, someone would be able to tell how utterly out of place you are; you clearly shouldn’t be here. You are dressed far more modestly, and a bit more expensively, than all of the other patrons here, though that isn’t why you are nervous.

If push comes to shove, you are confident enough that you can completely and confidently fight off anyone if they decide to try and rob you. The reason why you are actually nervous is because of the request you are fulfilling for Astarion. It helps feed into you being extremely nervous, however, which plays better into the fantasy that Astarion wants from you.

In a bid to help him be more comfortable with his sexuality, given that he admits he struggles constantly with being sexual yet having to fight off waves of disgust. Most of your encounters are initiated by him, with Astarion dictating how far things will go and when to stop. You are more than happy to indulge him; you aren’t necessarily a sexual person yourself, though you aren’t repulsed by them either. If sex is something he finds important then so do you, though he seems to find that a bit odd.

As time goes on however, you see a remarkable improvement in how he handles himself. You find yourself happier when he indulges his desires with you and is able to go through with without disassociating and detaching himself from the situation -

This, however, catches you completely off-guard.

“You... want to roleplay assaulting me?” you question. Astarion looks at you pensively, then embarrassment mollifies his face.

“Well, it is more like I wish to get you utterly blackout drunk, but I suppose you can put it that way, yes.” he twirls one strand of his own hair around his index, eyes avoiding yours. “It is of course all fantasy, and I understand that something like this can be hard to... back out of, but we do not have to do anything you don’t want to do, darling.”

You look at him thoughtfully. Your hands fidget together and you roll your shoulders back before, “I can do that. What, um, what would you like me to do?”

“Dress nicer than most patrons at a seedy bar would, and I’ll approach you of course, and...” he describes to you all that he wants to do, and though you fluster a little before him, you agree that yes, you will do your best. You are no actor, however.

He doesn’t mind.

You clasp your hands in your lap. The dress you are wearing is soft, comfortable, and it stops a little above your knees; it isn’t anything fancy but it is enough to make you stand out. In comparison to everyone else, you look like a pretty little lamb ready for the slaughter. Your fingers dig into your knees, face growing red from the perceived scrutiny, and -

“Mind if I take a seat, darling?” a familiar, smooth voice breaks you out of your spiral and you look up to see him – looking roguishly handsome as always. He dresses in darker colours this time around, wrapped in tight leathers, and you stutter out your response – he takes that as all the excuse to slide into the chair across from you, mugs already in hand. “You looked so nervous, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for you.” his voice is so saccharine sweet and if you didn’t know him any better, you would have actually believed him.

“Oh, thank you, I – I think?” and your voice comes out softer than you mean for it too; he leans closer, sliding one of the  mugs closer to you, and you look down at it. You aren’t an alcoholic, or rather, you do not drink in general. You, at most, only recognise beer – something that Astarion scornfully calls swill. You do not recognise the liquid inside of the mug, though you do not doubt that he chooses something deliberately strong, knowing your non-existent tolerance. “Did you get this for me?”

He flashes you a toothy smile, fang on show for you, and it makes your heart flutter. He is so utterly attractive, you are once again taken by how much you love him. “Of course sweetheart,” he says, voice honeyed with each utterance of the words and he leans forth, resting an elbow on the table while he gives you a dizzying, beautiful smile, “it’ll help with the nerves, and I managed to get a... decent discount for them, hm?”

You pick the mug up, feeling a bit silly as you look at it blankly before you steel your nerves and decide to take a large swig, much to Astarion’s surprise. It burns on the way down your throat, yet so oddly sweet as it settles on your tongue and slips deeper into your belly. You gasp when you separate your lips from the mug and he stares at you thoughtfully, especially when the alcohol seems to work almost immediately – you feel a bit dazed when you put the mug down, already feeling heat rush to your cheeks.

“My my, that was a bit enthusiastic, don’t you think?” Astarion says, but he nudges the mug back at you when you let go of it, smiling at you all the while. You forget this often because of how comfortable he is with the group, often being a goof in his own way to keep everyone disarmed and relaxed, but it is impossible to see what dances behind those eyes. He looks at you with near-polite interest, something you often do not see from him, and a part of you wonders if he is falling back on old habits.

He nudges the mug again and leans closer to you, almost keen. “Go on, have a few more sips. You look like you need it; loosen yourself up, I feel stiff just looking at you.”

You don’t get to ponder for long if he has been falling onto old habits. You find yourself drinking a moderate amount – well, not really, maybe? He needs only his own ale atop of yours to get you completely swaying, slurring your words and losing your grip on the wakeful world. He looks at you with such gentle sympathy when he makes his way over to you, lips so gentle as he presses a comforting kiss to your temple. “Come along, sweetheart,” he whispers lowly, “I’ll get you a room for you to rest in.”

Everything passes by in a haze. You don’t know how but he does have a room ready for you in this seedy tavern; the farthest one too, the most expensive he whispers into your ear when you desperately hold onto him to try and stay afloat. You keep winking in and out of existence, your gaze so blurry when you look at Astarion and he – in a moment of borderline uncharacteristic glee – seems to revel in your listlessness.

“So gorgeous.” his voice seems so distant, teeth once more bared to you in a facsimile of a comforting smile. You cannot even struggle against him after he locks the door and latches onto you, hands grabby and rough when he grabs the hem of your dress and tugs it up. He bumps against you until you fall over onto the bed, your dress pushed up until your stomach, where your legs and your modest panties are on display, “oh, so cute.” he purrs, hands stroking along from your ankles all the way to your thighs, his grip almost worshipful as he squeezes your plump thighs.

“Nnnn... huh?” your voice sounds off, as though it isn’t even coming from you. He grins down at you; you are so sweet and pliant like this, you can practically see his thoughts reflected on his expression, downright predatory and sadistic as it is. You mumble something incoherent, to which Astarion responds by pressing a kiss between your legs, atop of your clothed mound. You try, sluggishly, to move away, heavy arms trying to push his head back, but you feel so weighted down, head dizzy still with how inebriated you are.

You really should figure out how to up your tolerance. Or perhaps, given how excited Astarion seems to have your body unable to fight back against him, practically charmed, you do not need to. He looks at you so reverently, fingers hooking into your cotton underwear to drag it slowly down. Despite your entire situation, the floatiness of the world around you, the thought of what Astarion wants to do to you, how he wants you practically unconscious and relaxed to the point of it being dangerous, has your folds slightly parted, swollen, and slick from a slow build-up of arousal.

“What a whore.” he hisses out, fingers spreading your folds; you feel so tired, like you could just fall asleep at any moment, and Astarion seems to key in on that. He presses a deceptive chaste kiss against your clit, almost mockingly so, thumb spreading your folds open so that his tongue can drag a long, lazy line between your folds. You shiver, your hips barely jolting against his mouth, though Astarion pins you down so that he can continue his almost kitten-ish licks of your cunt. The world around you is getting darker and darker, the pleasure growing faded.

“Stop,” you slur, your hands once again attempting to grasp at his hair and tug him off. He simply drags your body closer, keeping his face buried in your vulva, encouraging more and more of your wetness to paint his tongue. It’s messy, it’s wrong – you are wrong for this, for letting him enjoy so thoroughly taking you apart. If you didn’t drink so much --

Of course, Astarion loves it. Your feelings are just part of a play, you are aware, and it is so easy to get into the play of trying to get the brutish rogue off of you. His tongue is relentless against your cunt, lashing against your clit, wrapping around it, and all you can do is keen and beg -

“Stop, stop, stop-” your words lose all bite. You are far too sluggish. You realise that you are most definitely going to black out. How strong are those drinks that Astarion gives you?

Your heart skips a beat.

Did he lace them with something?

When you look down at your resident vampire lover, he grins up at you- he knows what thoughts dance behind your eyes. He presses a kiss to your cunt again, a wet smack of his lips against yours. “Good girl,” he whispers lowly, his breath puffing against your sensitive, swollen clit, “just go to sleep, darling, go to sleep, and I’ll take care of everything for you.”

Almost as if hypnotised, your eyes flutter. The world goes black.

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

You awake, sticky and sore. Your face is buried in so many pillows, wrapped up in the most comfortable blankets, and Astarion sits across from you on a chair, reading what seems to be a smutty, trashy book. His eyebrow raises in what seems to be mostly confusion as to what he reads. When you force yourself up on your arms, you catch his attention just as you flop back onto your front, your legs shivering, and your face burns bright when you feel liquid heat drip out from between your pussy lips. Your press your legs together, blushing even harder when you realise there is... a lot of cum dripping out of you.

He must have been especially pent up, or must have built himself up to empty into you readily, pumping you full of his seed. You roll over and lift the blanket up, shyly looking down at your cunt, and Astarion laughs at the sheer embarrassment on your face when he sees how red your face is. Your pussy looks utterly puffy and flush with how much he uses your body while you sleep, and you cannot believe that you are unconscious for the entire thing.

“Was... was I good for you?” you ask quietly. You feel small for a moment, suddenly wanting to retreat, and Astarion sets the book aside to crawl onto bed with you, wrapping his arms around your stomach where he nuzzles his face into your cheek and smooches your temple.

“You were wonderful.” Astarion murmurs, “perfect, you let me do everything I ever wanted to do.” he pats your face and turns it over to look at him, where he locks lips with you, giving you a passionate kiss that steals your breath away. “Thank you for indulging me, my darling.”

“Anything that makes you happy,” you say.

Despite how oversensitive you are, you find yourself enjoying the odd pain he gives you when he makes slow love to you now that you are awake, peppering you with kisses and reminding you of how much he loves you the entire time.

You are just happy to have indulged him at all.

[halsinsgate]

how about 49 for dadsin and his shadowdaughter? 🥹

Intimacy Prompts (closed) -> 49. caring for them when they’re ill

Shadowheart is curled up in her bedroll. The barn along the outskirts of Baldur's Gate was spacious and sheltered them from harsh winds and rain. Though Astarion and Shadowheart both agreed that the stale scent of hay and manure wasn't to their liking, Tav had decided that they'd lay claim and hunker down until all were feeling better.

"Really, Halsin?" Shadowheart scoffs. She eyes the small plate of sliced apples. Halsin holds it out to her. His large hand makes the plate look comically small. She notices a a hunk of peanut butter on the side of the plate. "I am not some child. I am fine with water and broth. I don't need a snack."

Halsin is a patient man and sits beside her on a stool. The hay bale that her bedroll lay on top of was stiff on the back. It made her grumpier than usual.

"Some fruit and protein will do you some good," Halsin replies. "And apples are a good source of fibre. Nice and sweet too." His golden eyes twinkle in amusement at Shadowheart's petulant attitude. He has grown accustomed to her quick wit and somewhat bratty behaviour at times. Though she speaks to Tav with a lighter, kinder tone. It doesn't go unnoticed. "Come now, up you get."

He sets the plate by her feet and helps her sit up. He frowns as Shadowheart shivers. He hands her the plate which she takes without further complaint and then drapes another blanket around her shoulders. "That chill of yours is still bothering you?"

Shadowheart doesn't reply. Instead, she picks up an apple slice and swipes some peanutbutter on it. She takes a bite and tries to hide her pleasant surprise.

Halsin chuckles and the sound soothes her. She continues to eat in silence whilst Halsin rubs her back. He warns her not to eat too quickly and she shoots him an annoyed look. But when he quirks a brow she folds under his gaze. When she has her fill Halsin takes the plate and turns to leave.

A cold hand reaches forth and gently grips his wrist. Halsin turns to look at Shadowheart, lips parted and ready to speak. Though Shadowheart beats him to it.

"Thank you," she murmurs. She looks a bit better, yet small and vulnerable all the same. Halsin knows she is a fierce warrior, a force to be reckoned with despite her blind loyalty to Shar. She looks as if she wants to ask him to stay... there is no hint of pride holding her back but fear.

He turns back to her, placing the dish on the small wooden table in the corner of the barn and sits on the edge of the hay bale. He would not reject her silent plea for comfort.

"You're quite welcome," he says, with a tenderness that tugs at Shadowheart's heart. He tucks her hair behind her ears and leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now rest your eyes and gather your strength," he murmurs. "We need you."

[biowhore]

I feel like I'll eventually fall in love with every character.

Started with Gale, and I wrote a worshippy fic to satisfy that pining.

Then astarion, and my soft drow fic. I just want to pet him and tell him he's safe.

Now I'm full on aching about karlach and I plan to ruin myself with a trio of short fics for her. It's like wanting to squeeze a cute animal really hard.

Minthara or Wyll is probably next if I live after karlach. I'm hopeless.

[amandacanwrite]

BG3 Fic and Headcanon Requests Open

Hi friends, I wanted to let you know that I do take requests for BG3 fanfic. I feel most comfortable/interested in writing scenes with the following characters:

Gale Dekarios

Halsin Silverbough

Astarion Ancunin

Dammon

I'm also super interested in your AU's and interesting subversive ideas. Stuff like Dark Gale, Gale in his younger years. Etc. Feel free to give me a challenge. I'm 100% down for it.

Shoot me an ask if you have a request and I'll do my best to fill what I can!

Anyway that is all. I love you, bye.

[yourworsttotebag]

my bg3 fics!

Inspired by @mightymizora to promote some of my fics with summaries and lovely comments people have sent me! If you write, I think you should do the same!

I think these are a pretty representative example of the stuff I write and decent background for my tav Evie, who I write about often.

Hunger Gale/Tav - 5k - Explicit

Gale is far from home when the orb inside of him begins demanding powerful arcane energy. Unfortunately, he happens to be trapped in a locked room with nothing but his wits and the clothes on his back. Oh, and one sorcerer. He does have one of those too.

"This was so iconic" "Gods, this was so delicious! You write Gale so well and his dynamic with Evie is amazing."

Even If Astarion/Tav - 3k - Teen

Evie asks Astarion if he would still love her if she was a worm - a complicated question for him to answer since they are not dating.

"you are so good at writing banter, i love it" "this particular section...ripped my fucking heart out in the absolute best way."

Growing Pains Gale/Tav - 3k - Teen

Evie takes some tentative steps into leadership just as her personal life begins falling apart.

"Evie is such a distinct personality, and I cannot believe you managed to make such a believable fuckbuddies pining situation with Gale of all people, but it is REALLY working!" "i am crying at work" "Dear author I am CLIMBING THE WALLS what the FUCK"

I would be remiss if I didn't highlight a section of this amazing comment on And Everything After: "GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT GOOD SHIT THIS IS FUCKING DELICIOUS."

Y'all are so nice. Reading through these comments again was a treat even though I feel like I do it constantly.

[mi6kan]

Can people pls stop saying a fic is "... x tav/reader" when the reader is named THANKSSSSSS I cannot take this anymore, please specify if your reader is named or not. Or just say it's x OC.

My name's not Emily or Anne or Julia (kudos if that's your name, you're one LUCKY babe).

[inkymoonbunny]

He fears what has been left in him

Read on AO3

“Stealing my spot? Fine, I’ll take the comfy bed!” Astarion dived on the bed to the sound of Flare’s tinkling laugh. She smothered it too quickly for him to properly enjoy. He would have to keep trying. Flare climbed up from the floor, sliding onto the bed hesitantly so Astarion shifted into his bat form. 

“No--” Flare started, biting her lip as she paused to think. “I want you to change back, please?” Astarion shifted back to his tiefling form, his tail and rest of him still on the bed while Flare took a few moments to settle beside him. No sunlight or screen of grass stalks between them. Gods, he wanted to wrap his hand around her waist, bring her close and bury his nose in the sunny halo of her hair. Her thighs and hips had swelled with a proper supply of food the past weeks, her face gaining a cute roundness in her cheeks and her breasts filling too. He ached to run his tongue across the pudge of her stomach, so happy her body could change and recover from the starvation she had been subjected to. His own body, in undeath, took significantly longer to recover from the gauntness imposed by Cazador. 

[oceanatydes]

anyone got any fluffy gale comfort fics (gn reader)

[friendly-traveler]

Bisexuals will click on and willingly read the most morally questionable fics with red flags blaring in the tags simply because it has Astarion in it