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absolutehomosexuals · 4 months

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Baldur's Gate 3 is known for its variety in romance options, allowing you to romance all six of your companions regardless of the player's sex/gender and including the possibility of a non-monogamous relationship with some of them.

While we do think it's an interesting idea in theory, the way bg3 implemented this feature could use some work, especially character-wise.

Something that could've been fun and unique turns, sadly, into a mildly uncomfortable experience if you stop to think about the implications.

While each of the relationships is consensual in theory, the developers chose the most ambiguous characters to develop these storylines with.

We've got Mr. "Oh, is it because we haven't had sex in a while?" former s*x sl*ve Astarion, who's known to drown his trauma in unhealthy coping mechanisms and probably feels guilty for "depriving" his partner of sex during act 2.

Former sharran Shadowheart, whose cult used to push young members to "experiment [with each other]" while ironically considering masturbation a sin.

Literally untouchable Karlach, who allows you to sleep with others for as long as her engine isn't fixed, because she "doesn't want to lose you" – which is obviously not consent and in a perfect world we wouldn't even need to explain that.

It's also worth specifying that the game never clarifies whether your arrangement is a polyamorous relationship (if you also romance Halsin) or an open relationship, but that's probably up to player discretion.

Why is it relevant, you may wonder?

We could argue the characters might be individually attracted to Halsin, which would be true in Shadowheart's case.

For an ex-sharran, an exclusive polyamorous relationship is definitely less on-the-nose than full blown relationship anarchy ; not that there's anything wrong with the latter, whether irl or in a fictional setting, but the case we're talking about is a delicate (and fictional) one.

She also doesn't bat an eye after she catches the MC with Mizora, which – regardless of whether their relationship was already open or not – is clearly disrespectful to their relationship.

Ethical non monogamy requires communication in order to be, well, ethical: sleeping with a demon (and arguably, an enemy to the party) without warning your partner would count as cheating in any universe.

She just gets mildly mad and lets it slide, which is not how you enforce boundaries in this kind of arrangement, leading us to think the cult's beliefs are unfortunately still rooted in her despite her conversion to Selûne.

And of course they would: undoing religious trauma is hard work, and bleaching your hair won't heal it overnight, regardless of what our dear Shadowheart might think.

^ Astarion has an identical reaction, if you wondering.

Many people take issue with this type of take, claming it paints Halsin as disrespectful of other people's relationships and consent.

We are absolutely not saying that: Halsin asks for explicit consent from both the MC and their partner, in order to honour their pre-existing relationship despite his own feelings, which is exactly how it should be.

People can consent to situations they're not emotionally ready to take on, whether they're not right for them in that specific moment of their life or at all.

Furthermore, we're not even necessarily talking about Halsin: the MC has other occasions to live out a non-monogamous arrangement with their partner, such as with the drow twins.

Oh and, speaking about the drow twins, we hope to god you don't think rolling a DC 25 persuasion check on Gale (who explicitly tells you he's monogamous if you try to involve Halsin in your relationship) to get him to sleep with prostitutes is okay.

I sincerely hope whoever romances Gale, perhaps interpreting his former relationship with Mystra as groom*ng (which is a whole other can of worms we're not going to dive into in this post), understands how fucked up and disgusting it is to roll that check on him.

And, funnily enough, the game doesn't even consider it r*pe by coercion! Which it clearly is, to anyone sane and allowed within three feet of schools.

In conclusion, some of the choices Larian made on the portrayal of ethical non-monogamy are questionable, and anyone who enjoys this kind of relationship irl should probably strive for better representation.

Of course we should appreciate that they tried, but the amount of brownie points they're getting isn't nearly as deserved as you might think.

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moonselune · 4 months

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Having a little spiral over Teacher!Minthara x Obsessed!Student...

Part Two , Best intending fools (part 3)

With Minthara being a university lecturer on Toxicology and she is the whole reason why you enrolled at Blackstaff.

Modern AU, Suggestive, implied stalking (from reader!), slightly dark content, obsession.

Note: Cryso is drow for a rose ;)

⋆.˚✰ Minthara ⋆.˚✰ <- Masterlist

Minthara x f!reader

Here's a little snippet:

You were excellent in class, always scored highly in your tests and were never any trouble. If Dr Baenre hadn't handed your paper back to you, you would have thought she wouldn't even know your name.

That was always your favourite part of class, the fleeting moments where all of Dr Baenre's attention was on you. The way your fingers brushed against each other as you took the paper from her. The brief upward smile she gave you when she congratulated you on your perfect score, again. Then the moment would be over and she would move on to her next victim who almost never faced the same treatment.

You always gave her a meek nod of your head and a murmured thanks as you left her room. You don't think she ever heard you, it seemed her favourite part of the class was when her students left.

You always wondered why she taught, forced community service perhaps? You had heard rumours that she had been suspended from the Faerun Board of Toxicology for testing her concoctions on fellow members. You would be more than a willing subject.

You spent most of your free time during the academic day lingering in the garden that was boxed in by the lecturers' offices. It was fairly overgrown which made it the perfect spot to hideaway. It was quite easily to discern whose office belonged to who. Professor Dekarios always had his window open, fanning out some sort of failed experiment, his cat Tara, often hissing at him in admonishment.

Dr Lorroakan's office glinted with all the shiny junk he collected. You abhorred Dr Lorroakan, favouring his assistant Rolan much more. Considering Rolan taught all his classes, set all of the tests and were the only person you could talk to if you were struggling with the work, it made more sense to you to just give Rolan the job.

Then there was Miss Alfira, the sound of her lute could be heard even from the garden. You liked Miss Alfira's class, though you did take it because it was the easiest class to pass. A few sincere words behind why you wrote your sonnet, a fake tear here and there and Miss Alfira was overjoyed with your work. The easy class allowed you more time to work on Dr Baenre's assignments.

Then there was the apple of your eye, the diamond among rhinestones. Dr Baenre's office often had the curtains pulled, to block out the sun. It affected her work and overall bothered her. So you often spent your time imagining what was going on behind the curtains. What experiments she was conducting, what critiques slipped from her mouth when she was marking student's papers. You would imagine what she said about your work, if words of praise ever slipped from her lips. Thinking about it made a warm feeling tighten within you and you found yourself absentmindedly squeezing your thighs together.

Then Dr Lorroakan would be yelling at Rolan for something, Miss Alfira would hit the wrong note and Professor Dekarios would fling his window open, with purple smoke billowing from it. And the feeling would be gone.

On days where the sun was hidden among the clouds, you practically sprinted to your spot in the garden, the crumbling stone bench covered in ivy waiting for you. It was a good day when the sun was finally gone, the best even, because that's when Dr Baenre drew open her curtains.

How you had to restrain yourself from pressing your face against the glass, to stare into the wonders of her office. You wanted to know what she was working on, what toxins she was playing with. What colour the walls were. Did she have any personal artefacts? Any hints of a previous life. You wanted to know where she kept her terrarium of venomous spiders that she always threatened to set on hungover students.

"Then you will know the meaning of piercing pain tearing through your head."

You had never built up the confidence to go to Dr Baenre's office, there were hours available for students but you figured that was just something she had to say to students because of the rules. You didn't know of any student that had been to her office either, none of them had enough of a death wish.

The weather today was miserable, dark clouds threatened to spill bouts of rain, there was a distant rumbling indicating a nearby storm, there was no wind but a definite chill in the air. It was the perfect day for you.

You cursed yourself for not pushing through the mass of students quicker, you almost missed Dr Baenre opening her curtains, the subtle grin on her face as she took in the weather. If you weren't panting from the sudden sprint you did to get here, then you were now.

There was no pantsuit, no shirt, just a tight black tank top. Her hair was not in its usual bun, but rather cascading down her shoulders. You couldn't tell from here what she was wearing on her lower half but you hoped it was as tight as her tank top. Dirty, filthy thoughts flooded your mind and the warm feeling came back. You found yourself leaning forward, drinking in her presence.

What had happened? Were these her spare clothes? Had she spilt something on her? Had Professor Dekarios? If so Professor Dekarios was soon becoming your second favourite lecturer.

Not fully aware of your surroundings you continued to lean forward till you lost your footing. You jerked trying to regain balance but your panic had caused you to be too forceful and you slipped backwards instead, crashing into the shrubbery. Dr Baenre snapped her head towards the commotion, towards you. You swore and stilled, praying to every god out there that she couldn't see you. You stayed there a few more minutes for good measure before clambering out of it. To your dismay, her curtains were drawn close, your noise had spooked her.

It was your favourite time of class, you were all getting your midterms back. As other students were sweating in fear, you could hardly contain your excitement. Dr Baenre was in her normal wear, dark purple pantsuit, crisp white shirt, stilettos clicking ominously around the room. You pretended to be intrigued in the piece of paper in front of you, a diagram showing the compounds of the venom you were studying today. You were sure you could draw it with your eyes closed. Finally, Dr Baenre approached your desk, you looked at her, a small awkward smile on her lips as you reached out for the paper.

But something was different this time.

Her eyes didn't contain the usual quiet admiration, her dark painted lips were set in a narrow line and she regarded you with an air of - chagrin?

You took the paper from her, your awkward smile turning into a pout at the absence of her fleeting touch and looked at the paper in front of you.

A disappointing analysis. See me after class.

No, that wasn't right. You flicked anxiously through the pages trying to see if this was all some horrible mistake, that this was someone else's paper, but it wasn't. This was your assignment and she had called it disappointing. Your work was disappointing, she was disappointed in you.

You spent the rest of the class, going over each line of your assignment, searching desperately for where you had gone wrong. For the first time ever, you were not listening to Dr Baenre, you zoned out completely, fixated on where you went wrong. If you were more aware then you would have noticed Dr Baenre relishing in your displeasure.

You were lucky enough not to get called on in class, so you simply continued spiralling. Reading what you had written over and over again. Your analysis was strong, your words distinctive, points clear and correct. You could not understand where you had gone wrong.

Soon class ended and as the other students shuffled out of the room, you picked up your books and held them close to your chest, one hand out holding your treacherous paper. You walked towards the front of the room, stopping just before her desk. Putting enough distance between yourself and your teacher.

Dr Baenre was rubbing the chalk off of her blackboard as you approached her, it may have been your eyes deceiving you but you swore she was smiling. You didn't have time to ponder it as she quickly turned around, and you bit lip to stop the gasp that threatened to escape you.

"Y-You wanted to see me, Dr Baenre?" You stuttered out, and Dr Baenre nodded and walked in front of her desk, she took the paper from your hands and leaned back on her desk. She regarded it with a faint look of disdain.

"Do you agree with what I said about your work?" Dr Baenre asked as she crossed her arms, tilting her head at you. You feel her eyes look you up and down and you suddenly became overly self-conscious about what you decided to wear today. It was nothing out of the ordinary, a simple check skirt and a black turtleneck. Your skirt was perhaps a bit short, but that was not out of choice just coincidence.

"Excuse me?" You replied in slight shock, although this was the longest conversation you had had with your teacher, and she was notoriously abrasive, it was still a surprise to you.

"Do not make me repeat myself again, of you agree with what I said about your work?" Dr Baenre continued, it felt like her eyes were penetrating your very soul. You couldn't help but fluster under her intense gaze.

"I-uh, you uh said it was a disappointing analysis, and I thought that it was a rather strong analysis." You told her, eyes cast to the ground. Dr Baenre was wearing black stilettos today.

"Why?" Dr Baenre persisted and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

"Why I thought it was a strong analysis-" You caught yourself before she did and regained yourself. "Oh I uh think it was strong because I was very clear about.."

As you pointed out your analysis you melted into an unknown confidence, this was your passion, your infatuation, the work you did was correct. There was no error or room for criticism. You continued to talk with your voice getting unwittingly louder, until Dr Baenre put held her index finger up to silence her. You choked down the words, keen not to disobey her.

"How fascinating, so you can peak more than three words." Dr Baenre smiled and you felt the air leave your lungs. She was smiling. At you. That pleasurable warm feeling returned, taking root between your legs. "Your analysis was strong, in fact it was quite brilliant, I just wanted to see if there was more to you. Clearly there is."

"Oh, I uh, thank you. I'm quite a fan of you-" You complimented before realising what you had said a blushed a bright red, "-I mean of your work, not that you aren't great, I mean you are more than great-"

Her index finger this time pressed against your lips and you thought you might just combust. Her heartbeat increased and your eyes fluttered from her finger to her eyes. She was touching you, voluntarily, not by accident, this wasn't just a fleeting moment, she was touching you.

"Now you're talking you truly cannot stop." Dr Baenre laughed, removing her finger and raising a brow at you. You struggle to string together a coherent sentence which seemed to amuse the teacher. "And now you cannot speak, what has got you so flustered, Cryso?"

"I um, I don't know what you mean." You mumbled fiddling with your hands, Dr Baenre gave you a knowing look but didn't push the matter further. Suddenly she pushed herself upwards and walked behind her desk, her cool demeanour returning.

"Keep up the good work, (L/N)." Dr Baenre said as she dismissed you, you nodded your head and thanked her, but as you were about to step out she called out to you once more. You turned to look at her, the warm feeling between your legs intensifying. "A word of advice, for you work, be more bold."

Be more bold.

Those three rang around your head for the rest of the day, and when you couldn't sleep, it was because those words were on the forefront of your mind. She was on the forefront of your mind.

Your work was not boring, you knew that, maybe you could change up your writing style, bring in some more risky sources-

Oh.

What Dr Baenre really meant hit in the face like a tonne of bricks. She was not talking about your work. She was talking about you. She wanted you to be more bold. You began to realise that perhaps she had seen you that day, in the garden. You touched your lips, trying to recreate the sensation of her touch. When she thought back to it, her actions had crossed that teacher/student boundary. You have been academically smart, but by the gods were you starting to realise how dumb you were.

Bold. You could be bold.

When you walked into class a few days later, you were sure you had achieved bold. You wore a low cut tank top that was definitely a size too small for you. You wore a loose open cardigan over it, causing it to frame your chest perfectly. Your hair was down, not in its usual low ponytail. Your short skirt remained, only this time it dangerously high on your legs, and instead of your normal sneakers you had opted for some heeled knee high boots.

You could feel her stare on you when you walked in, in fact you could feel all of your classmates stare on you as you made your way to your usual seat. You were quite the wallflower, so this blooming was pleasurable for all. This will work for you.

As Dr Baenre began the lecture you made sure to wait until she was looking your way to shrug off a shoulder of your cardigan, exposing your clavicle. And Dr Baenre stumbled on her words, it was the first time she had ever done that.

Over the next few days, class remained similar to this day. You came up with more ways to tease your teacher. Going as far and as cliche to dropping your pen on your way out of class, bending to pick it up so Dr Baenre had the best view of your ass as you did so.

Still you were not asked to stay after class, in fact you were sure you were being ignored. You were never called upon, never questioned. This would not do. Which is why you did something you rarely did.

As Dr Baenre rounded off the lesson, she leant against her desk and clasped her hands together to obligatorily ask the class if any of them had any questions. All were usually too scared to raise their hand, but you no longer felt such trepidation.

"Dr Baenre?" You asked, your voice trembling slightly, not in a way that indicated fear but a way that showed confused naivety. Dr Baenre's head snapped towards you and she struggled to not let her amusement show. You felt your classmates stare at you in awe, how bold of you.

"Yes, (L/N)" Dr Baenre said, her tone dry and not giving anything away.

"Is it possible to deconstruct the compound of the venom from Phoneutria nigriventer for recreational pleasure, or does its varying effects across the sexes make it too precarious?" You asked, you had rehearsed the question about a thousand times before it left your lips but it was worth it to see Dr Baenre's face contort in slight surprise.

"..Interesting question. It would likely take rigorous rounds of testing but it could be possible." Dr Baenre had picked up on the game you were playing and she was playing to win. "Of course finding willing participants would be an issue due to the chance of mortality."

"But if the participants were unafraid? Knew that reward far outweighed the risk?" You continued, you could feel your classmates tense around you, nobody had talked back to teacher.

"Then it sounds like a decent proposal." Dr Baenre finalised, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards. If your classmates weren't scared before they were now. Luckily for them, Dr Baenre dismissed the class, unluckily for you, she was the first to leave the room. You were hoping for an invitation to discuss the issue further but evidently not. It was okay though, you still had one last thing up your sleeve.

You had never written a paper so poorly. It physically hurt to write it and when you handed it in you had to remind yourself that this was for the bigger picture. Your perfect grades could handle one little slip.

You were practically giddy when Dr Baenre walked your way, the offending paper in her hand. Although her demeanour was cold, you with your discerning eye you could see the playfulness in hers. She handed you the paper, fingers touching briefly. It sent shivers down your spine. You looked at your paper with bated breath.

Appalling work. See me in my office after class, extra lessons are clearly in order.

You tried to look sad, devastated even, but it was impossible. How could you feel that way when all of your dreams had just come true. When class ended you noted that Dr Baenre had left first, although this would have previously disheartened you, this time you were enthralled. You tried your best not to run to the office complex, it was weird being in the building and not just observing it. When you stood outside Dr Baenre's office you readjusted your top, tousled your hair and applied a layer of lip gloss to your lips. You knocked on the door and heard her voice beckon you in. Taking a deep breath in you opened the door and stepped into her web.

Upon entering you are enveloped in a rich ambiance of deep purples and blacks, with subtle accents of silver or darkened brass. The walls are adorned with numerous framed academic achievements, you could tell which paper earned her what award in a heartbeat.

Large bookshelves lined one side of the room, filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes on toxicology, pharmacology, and related subjects. The scent of aged parchment and ink mingles with a faint hint of something exotic, perhaps a rare botanical specimen or a vial of potent venom kept under lock and key you supposed.

In one corner of the office, was the aforementioned terrarium sat in all its glory, from the naked eye you could count at least three Phoneutria Nigriventers, what a delightful coincidence. Their intricate webs catch the light filtering in through the shaded windows, casting delicate patterns across the room. An elegant desk occupies the opposing corner, strewn with papers, research notes, all you would kill to just have a look at. Sat at desk was Dr Baenre, her hands clasped and a certain look of amusement on her face.

"Dr Baenre I can only-" You began to apologise, a hand on your bare collarbone. The top you wore today was a deep scoop and left little to the imagination, your bra straps peeking out.

"-Sit." Dr Baenre told you, and you immediately obeyed. Crossing one leg over the other, allowing your skirt to hike up. Dr Baenre stood up and walked towards you, one hand trailing behind her. She perched on the edge of her desk and you felt excitement build within you though you tried not to let it show. "I must admit I was disappointed by your most recent submission."

"I can only apologise, Dr Baenre-'

"-Minthara, you can call me Minthara." Minthara corrected you, you knew it was her first name but the sound of it coming from her own lips was thrilling.

"Minthara," You tested the word on your tongue and liked the way it felt. Minthara smiled as you spoke, "I can only apologise for the drop in my work, I guess I have just been stressed lately."

"Stressed? Whatever for?" Minthara asked with false sympathy, she knew fully well what was happening here.

"I think pent up is perhaps the better term for it." You told her, batting your eyelashes as you looked up at her with big eyes. You leaned forward in your chair, allowing her a better view of your cleavage. You could feel her eyes on you as you rose from your seat. She was taller than you, but not by a lot. "Do you think you could help me, Dr Baenre?"

You bit your lip and tilted your head, Minthara rolled her head back as she let out a breathless laugh. Your heart was pounding in your chest and then you did something you were sure was right. When she lowered her head back to meet your gaze you pushed yourself forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. A fire burning within you that overpowered all of your rationale. You were beginning to panic when Minthara stilled but that panic washed away when she grabbed your waist and turned you round, pinning you to the desk. You squeaked causing her to chuckle against your mouth. She nipped at your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth allowing her entrance.

What do you guys think? Lmk! :)))

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