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thiriann · 4 months

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If only for tonight

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Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,4k

Pairing: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Vampire Bites, Blood Drinking, Manipulative Astarion, Romance, Dissociation, Trauma, Falling In Love,Tiefling Tav, Vampire Spawn Astarion (Baldur's Gate),one shot

Summary:He tried to weigh the consequences in his mind but his hunger, which had already reawakened at the mere suggestion of drinking her blood, was terribly distracting, gnawing painfully at his belly. He took a reflexive breath and as if on cue her scent invaded his nose, the bouquet of her blood mixed with her arousal. This might be a terrible idea, but most fun ones were. All he had to do was hold back a little, he could do that. Surely.

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Gentle music and lively conversation filled the camp, after so many days of uncertainty and danger, this celebration felt like a breath of fresh air. Thiriann, surrounded by her people and basking in their adulation, felt a sense of belonging that had eluded her for far too long.

She flitted from one conversation to the next: creating light displays with Rolan, mulling over song ideas with Alfira, and sharing drinks with Bex until the latter succumbed to slumber. Her companions weren't forgotten either —a toast with Shadowheart, nostalgic stories with Gale, and an unexpectedly flirtatious exchange with Halsin.

She just wanted to know everyone a little better before separating ways but despite her efforts to mingle, Thiriann's gaze often drifted to the one person she yearned to speak with that night.

Perched in front of his tent, drink in hand, he seemed out of place at the festivity, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but at this party. His striking beauty, undiminished by his sullen demeanour, drew her in. The firelight danced across his face, softening his features and igniting a desire to trace her fingers across his lips.

She shook her head and averted her eyes before he noticed her staring, her thoughts tinged with shame. Perhaps the alcohol was to blame, making her foolish.

But that wasn’t really the case, was it?

The reality was that she was developing feelings for her pale companion. His humor, intelligence, and sarcasm, along with their late-night talks, had captivated her.

Things had gotten worse for her after they’d spent the night together.

And it had been…good? Somewhat. Initially eager, he had become distant as the night progressed. Or maybe he’d grown bored? She tried not to take it as an insult to her skills. This was no time to get focused on insecurities over her performance.

In the morning after, he claimed he was restraining his vampiric urges—a plausible struggle. She could only imagine the difficulty of his condition.

She had chosen to deem it a flop and move on, happens to everyone. Dwelling on it served no purpose, especially since he avoided the topic.

Lost in thought, Thiriann was oblivious to the giant red figure sneaking up behind her until it was too late.

“Hey,Soldier~” sang a voice making her almost jump out of her skin. Astarion really would be the death of her if thinking about him prevented her from noticing this hulking beast of a woman approach.

“Karlach! What are you up to?” she gasped holding a hand over her chest.

“You’ve been holding out on me, soldier. ~ What is this I’ve been hearing about you and Astarion?”

Karlach had a very unsettling devilish gleam in her eye, it was clear she was out on a quest for scandalous tales.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.” She said, trying to keep her face neutral.

“Oh, come off it! I thought we were friends. You know you can tell good ol’ Karlach anything, especially any juicy stories.”

Thiriann searched her mind for a way out of this. There was no way she would talk about anything that had transpired between her and Astarion. Luckily for her, Karlach relented first.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d ride him to the Feywild and back if I had the chance, but I wouldn’t let my guard down around him. Good to see the two of you getting along, anyway. As for myself, I think I’ll go look for a fire-retardant lover to go lost in ‘til sunrise.” She winked before taking off in the direction of a rather good-looking bard.

“Enjoy yourself tonight, Karlach.”

Unconsciously, Thiriann shifted her gaze to his tent again and to her surprise, he met her eyes. His look conveyed a silent invitation. There was only so much delaying the inevitable, she couldn’t avoid him forever. Taking a deep breath and steadying herself she approached him.

“Here’s my little treat with their cheeks all flushed. You will come to my bed tonight, won’t you?”

She hesitated. This was rather unexpected.

“I’m not sure…” she said with no small level of uncertainty.

“Ah, you need a bit of enticing, let me see.”

He said, hand gripping his chin in thought.

“How about this one: All these accolades from the Tieflings are nothing compared to the sound of my name, cried from your lips.” He said with a flair, arm gesturing for effect.

A ghost of a laugh left her. Did he want to play some pickup game?

“Is that the best you can do?” she teased.

“Hmm, let me give it another go: Every part of your perfect body whispers temptation - it's as if the Gods made you just to ruin me.”

The blush on Thiriann’s cheeks returned with full force.

“You're sweet, and sillier than I thought.”

“I can go on all night with the flattery, but is that really all you want?” he drawled, hand hovering over his chest, drawing her eyes to the little bit of skin visible under his collar.

Maybe.

“How about if I said these little words... Everyone's favorite...” he put on an innocent face, if not a bit sad. “I love you.”

The smile fell off her face, and she stared at him in stunned silence. This playful banter had been a nightly routine, but those words coming from him held a powerful punch.

Finally regaining her composure, she teased him, "Having fun, are you?"

“I am, it's hard not to with you.” He giggled, and she raised an eyebrow. Somehow, hearing him say he enjoyed their time together stirred her emotions more than any of his pickup lines.

“Now, as much as I relish standing around and saying all my favorite lines at you, I'd much rather we got to experience each other’s full portfolio of talents once again.”

She really didn’t think he’d bother with a repeat after last time. But she had heard him complain that the party was boring, and the wine was bad, and, well, if it was entertainment he wanted, she had a few ideas.

“All right, I’ll come see you after everyone’s asleep.”

Once the party had died down and the camp had settled into silence, she sauntered to his tent.

“I'd hoped you would come. And now you're all mine, and I’m all yours. Until morning at least.”

His eyes drifted to the cup she held in her hand. A flicker of concern crossed his face. Not that it had stopped him in the past but the idea of sleeping with her intoxicated brought a sour feeling to his stomach.

“I see you've been indulging. “ he said, trying to gauge her inebriation.

“Don't worry...”

She was pleasantly surprised to see how he arranged his numerous pillows within his tent, evidently trying to provide some comfort. Moreover, he had an actual bedroll spread out.

“…I've brought you a drink as well.”

She reclined on a pillow and placed her drink down next to her. His gaze travelled over her form. She was only carrying one cup. A thrill of anticipation shot through him as he realized her game.

“Really, now?” His voice purred seductively.

She removed her top in one swift motion, but he was already used to such displays from her. Probably half the camp had seen her topless by now.

“Tonight, you can drink as much as you want from wherever you want.”

With that she slid out of her pants as well, remaining only in her underwear.

His eyes lit in excitement. Now, this sounded like fun. But he wasn’t one to just jump at an offer that sounded too good. Most of the time.

“Darling, as much as I want to accept your generous gift, I believe the others will be less understanding in the morning when Shadowheart is forced to resuscitate you again.”

“It won’t come to that. I’ve taken some precautions.”

“Precautions?”

“There’s a scroll of Revivify in my pants. The others don’t have to know.”

Oh, so she had a deviant side to her after all. This was rather surprising, and so very tempting. For a moment, he considered this had to be a trap of some sort, even if an unusually elaborate one. But that didn’t seem like her. She had too much of a bleeding heart for that.

He tried to weigh the consequences in his mind but his hunger, which had already reawakened at the mere suggestion of drinking her blood, was terribly distracting, gnawing painfully at his belly. He took a reflexive breath and as if on cue her scent invaded his nose, the bouquet of her blood mixed with her arousal.

This might be a terrible idea, but most fun ones were. All he had to do was hold back a little, he could do that. Surely.

“My, my, I had no idea you enjoyed it that much, darling.” He said as he sat between her legs leaning over her. He placed both his hands on her knees spreading them further apart.

“You should have said so earlier. I would love nothing more than to devour you.” He drawled, trying to sound as seductive and sexually charged as possible.

In reality, he had no idea where to begin. Elation and nervousness surged through him as he took in her form. Her delicate neck was extremely alluring as usual, but shifting his eyes lower he couldn’t help but draw his attention to her supple breasts. They would be so soft against his face, her nipple would fit perfectly in his mouth as he bit around her areola. Moving his gaze even lower he was presented with her thighs. Firm and toned, he’d heard you could draw a rather large amount of blood from them with barely any effort. He wondered if that was true. And then there was her tail. Could you even draw blood from a tail? He had no idea, but it had a large vein on the side of it that seemed to almost challenge him to try.

He realized he’d probably taken longer than he should have contemplating his options. He stole another glance at her face, only to see her patiently observing him. At a first look might have mistaken it for casual relaxation, but he could hear her heartbeat, it was elevated. Even in the dim light, he could almost perceive a shift in her eyes, a dilation of the pupils that sent a jolt through him. This wasn't just idle amusement. Desire flickered beneath the surface, a silent mirror of the hunger gnawing at him. She wanted this, almost as much as he did.

A trail of fire danced across her skin as his lips brushed upwards from her knee. The coolness of his breath against her heated flesh sent shivers rippling down her spine. He paused, hovering just above her thigh, a single raised eyebrow in a silent question.

“Go ahead.” She answered him out loud, her voice trembling but he couldn’t tell if it was fear or arousal.

Either way, he’d at least try to be gentle, he was a gentleman after all.

He bit her swiftly, but her thigh was softer than he had anticipated, and his fangs sank in deep. A gasp, sharp and quick, escaped her lips and her legs trembled, but she remained still.

Blood gushed into his mouth, filling it with rapid speed. He moaned around her leg startled and swallowed everything he could. A few errand droplets ran down his chin. A wave of warmth surged through him, an intoxicating sensation that left him breathless. He didn’t even have to suck at the wound, her blood was freely running into his mouth, and he swallowed a second time. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was too much, she would bleed out in no time at all. A third mouthful gathered, and he forced himself to pull away. He licked at the wound hoping to aid congeal the blood and felt a jolt of panic when his senses finally returned to him.

He stared in shock as the holes stopped bleeding almost instantly and even closed. She hadn’t been kidding when she said she’d taken precautions.

When he glanced at her face, her eyes were lidded, and she had a confident smirk on her lips.

It seemed it was his turn now to impress. Of course, there was no such thing as a free lunch.

He kissed her thigh one last time, the smell of her blood making him want to dive back in but he could be patient.

He moved his face to the apex of her thighs, hovering above her sex. He hooked a finger in her underwear and moved them to the side before blowing a cold breath over her. She gasped as goosebumps ran over her skin.

Astarion looked so beautiful between her legs. She was caught between wanting to look away in embarrassment and staring into his eyes forever.

He was the first to break their momentary connection as he lowered his face and took a broad sweep of his tongue over her clit.

She moaned quietly at the contact and spread her legs further. He smirked at her eagerness and ran his tongue over her hole before bringing it back to her clit. There was something in her taste that was uniquely hers and he could swear he tasted it in her blood as well.

Without musing over it too much, he began his usual routine, habits kicking in. She moaned loudly above him, and her hips thrust against his mouth. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself and of course she was, he was very good at this. It was after all one of his, admittedly few, talents. Words echoed in his ears as memories began to surface, reminding him exactly what he was good for. So, he drifted away from them, sinking into the quiet abyss of his own mind. How long had he been gone? Had he even left at all? A throbbing beat, insistent and growing, clawed its way through the fog. When his eyes snapped open, reality slammed back. He tried to take in what had happened. It seemed at some point she’d put her legs over his shoulders, or maybe he’d done that, and he now found himself almost squished between her thighs, her pulse loud right by his ear.

He pulled away from her slightly, every instinct in him was screaming to just get on with it like always, get it done, and move on, but he found himself hesitating. His feelings were even worse than usual, maybe that was the problem, he had let them run loose and now his thoughts were a mess as well. Shame twisted his gut in a dull ache, familiar and unwelcome.

He wanted to clear his head, to calm down. Almost by instinct, he grabbed her by the thigh he hadn’t bitten and sank his fangs in. He hadn’t asked this time, a sliver of unease worming its way into his gut before he felt her hand run through his hair. He stilled expecting a blow or a yank, but it never came. She just carded her fingers through his locks and stroked his head, her light touch a soothing counterpoint to the storm raging within him. He’d bitten her at an awkward angle, and he couldn’t fully see her face but from what he could tell she appeared to be smiling. A strange calm washed over him, a quiet settling in his usually churning stomach. Before he even swallowed the first mouthful, a sense of control, however fleeting, began to return.

As he drank greedily from her again and slowly began to feel more like himself, with every drop he consumed, the world seemed to sharpen, the confusion receding. Feeling his confidence return to him he unlatched his fangs and licked her wound closed.

He finally looked at her then and what a sight she was. Her face was flushed, almost red, the color reaching all the way to her delicate collarbones. She was panting with a gentle smile on her lips, a sheen of sweat clinging to her flushed skin like morning dew. Both her thighs were smeared in blood, his marks clearly visible despite it. Her cunt was glistening, slick dripping down onto her tail. He felt a twinge of pride that he could reduce their righteous leader to such a wanton state. His dick twitched against the confines of his pants and he stood up to remove them. Her eyes were glued to the motions of his hands before they fell on his cock and she looked away. He’d had his tongue inside her just minutes prior but now she was suddenly feeling shy? Ridiculous woman.

He sank back to the ground, a predatory glint returning to his eyes. Before she even had the time to ask him why, he grabbed her by the thighs and pulled her to him, making her fully prone on the floor with her legs wrapped around his waist. She gasped at the sudden motion and looked up at him with wide eyes. He was finally back on track with the evening. He loomed over her, taking in her form before lowering his hands to her hips. He gripped her underwear and ripped them off with a snap. Thiriann gasped, more at the audacity than the pain. But her eyes, wide and unblinking, remained fixed on his.

He lowered himself onto her and their lips locked in a passionate kiss. He plunged his tongue in her mouth and slid it against hers. She responded eagerly, and the kiss immediately turned into something filthy. He retreated his tongue, and she followed him, licking into his mouth, just where he wanted her. He bit her tongue gently in a silent request. She shivered under him and he fought the urge to rut against her. He felt her drag her tongue against one of his fangs in permission. He bit down just hard enough to draw a few drops. The taste of her blood mixed with her saliva was intoxicating and he sucked greedily on her tongue. Despite drinking from her twice already, his bloodlust was far from satiated. She felt the heat in her belly intensify as he growled animalistically in her mouth.

She pulled away trying to regain some composure, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"Oh no you don't," he whispered, his voice husky; not when he finally had her where he wanted.

He trailed kisses down her delicious neck, over her delicate collarbones until he reached her breasts and sucked a nipple into his mouth. She keened loudly and arched her back in an attempt to touch as much of him as she could. Her hands were now firmly on his back but he could tell she was trying not to scratch him with her nails. A bittersweet pang shot through Astarion's chest at the thought of her concern. It was a foreign sensation, almost unwelcome. He shoved it down, a familiar darkness settling in its place. Tonight, he wouldn't be swayed by fleeting emotions.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple, and she thrust up, her wet heat pressing against his length. The sudden sensation against his neglected cock sent a shock of pleasure up his spine. He gasped and pushed down more firmly into her, dragging his length along her folds and rubbing against her clit. Giving her a taste of her own medicine before pulling away and pressing her hip down with his free hand, holding her still.

She whined loudly at the loss of contact, and he smirked against her breast.

“Now, now, darling. Wouldn’t want to end our night before I’ve made use of your very generous offer, would we?”

The desire to be filled was making her ache with need but he was right. She wanted him to enjoy himself without holding back, even if that meant slowly driving her to madness with lust.

She forced her muscles to relax under him, giving no resistance to being pinned down. “I’ll be good. “

Gods, he wanted to ruin her.

He felt a strange sense of satisfaction having her submit to him, allowing him to take whatever he wanted at his own pace. And seeing her so eager to follow his lead for once sent a thrill of excitement up his spine. He'd never had an opportunity like this before, so he was going to make the most of it now. Astarion lowered his head to her breast once more.

“May I?”

Her breath stuttered, but she nodded, closing her eyes anticipating the pain. He took her nipple into his mouth again giving it a firm suck before opening his mouth wider and sinking his fangs into the skin just barely above her areola. Her breath hitched and he rubbed his thumb over her hip in a silent apology.

When he felt her relax against him, he removed his fangs and let the blood seep into his mouth.

He swirled his tongue around her nipple playing expertly with it. Her muscles tensed once more, fighting fiercely with herself to stay still.

He could just lower his hand and give her the much-desired relief but a part of him relished having her like this, completely at his mercy. He wanted to push her to see when she'd finally break and start making demands of him. Or maybe start begging.

Light-headedness set in and Astarion began to feel almost tipsy. He wondered if he wasn’t drinking too much of her blood. But there she was releasing chocked little sounds above him, her face beautifully flushed and sweaty.

Releasing the now-swollen bud from his mouth he flinched as a flash of brilliant light erupted in his vision. He snapped his eyes open, searching the room for the source but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

A trail of heated kisses climbed up her body, stopping at the vulnerable curve of her neck. He lingered there, brushing his lips along the sensitive skin. A subtle shift in her breath betrayed a growing anticipation. He dragged his fangs gently across her flesh, teasing himself as fire pooled in his gut from the action. Interesting, that was new.

Finding his favorite spot mirroring almost perfectly where his own scars were, he licked the delicate skin and felt her tremble.

He blew a cold breath over the now wet spot and with a swift movement, he captured her lips in a fierce kiss.

“Mmh-“ a strangled moan escaped her lips, surprise melting into raw desire. She met his kiss with equal fervor, her hand tangling in his curls, pulling him closer.

“I thought you were going to drink.”

“Oh, I will, darling. But I think it’s time I gave you your reward. You’ve earned it.”

Removing his hand from her hip, he grasped his length and lined himself with her entrance. She felt hot and incredibly tight, too tight. Astarion froze, a curse escaping his lips. The unexpected resistance sent a jolt of frustration through him. He couldn’t even push halfway in.

He moved his hand to rub at her clit to get her to relax.

“Astarion, wait, I- “ and with that, he felt her squeeze him even harder before her tight channel started fluttering around him. It felt as if her body was trying to suck him in and he bucked into her instinctively, making her scream. He stared at her in awe as she came undone on his cock.

Having someone finish prematurely wasn’t a novelty to him but it had been always men. He’d never made a woman cum with a single thrust before. Unfortunately for her, it made his already impressive ego swell further.

“Oh, you poor thing. You should have said something sooner, had I known you were this frustrated, I would have helped you out right away.”

She tried, and failed, to glare at him.

“Liar.” She pouted and something like fondness swirled in his chest.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly satisfied tonight.” He punctuated his last words with languid thrusts making her eyes glaze over and her mouth open in a gasp.

Astarion angled his hips in just the right way to bring her to bliss again and set a steady pace. He panted quietly against her, she was still so impossibly tight, and his pleasure was building faster than he would have liked. He blamed it on the amount of blood and wine he’d drank. She tugged gently at his curls and the sensation sent a shiver down his spine.

The closer he got to release the more overwhelmed he felt. He blinked, momentarily disoriented. Time seemed to have blurred. Her arms, once loosely around him, had tightened their hold. A soft brush against his leg startled him, and he realized her tail had also wrapped around his leg. A wave of nausea threatened to rise, a primal reaction he couldn't seem to control. He clenched his jaw, forcing the feeling down, desperate to salvage whatever connection they'd built. Every instinct in his body screamed at him to pull away, to flee from the very touch that had moments ago filled him with pleasure. Shame burned hot in his chest, a bitter cocktail of self-loathing and regret. Why couldn't he allow himself this moment of connection, this flicker of normalcy, without the past rearing its ugly head?

“Bite me.”

He had been so distracted he wasn’t sure he heard her. Pulling back to see her face he felt mesmerized by her eyes. It was a look he hadn't known existed, a look that held not fear or disgust, but acceptance, even admiration. No one had ever looked at him like that.

“You can bite me again.” she repeated, her voice a gentle murmur, devoid of lust or demand. It was a simple statement, spoken with the same trust she offered him every night.

Words failed him so he bent down to her neck and bit. It may have been the fourth time he’d drank from her that evening but the joy of it hadn’t weaned at all. He felt her blood course through both their bodies and every sensation felt charged. He hooked her legs over his shoulders bending her in half, allowing him to pump into her with animalistic need. She cried out, bucking up against him as much as she could. He wasn’t going to last long, the coil inside him ready to snap. He tried to reach for her clit again, but she held him tighter, pressing their bodies even closer.

“Like this-ah- is -aah- good!”

She clenched around him, and he growled in her throat, the sound not quite human. He sucked harder and his release approached with every coming second. He fucked her with reckless abandon, intoxicated by the sensations of her blood filling him and her tight heat wrapped around his length.

Suddenly, without any warning, the coil snapped. And it was as if a dam had burst, wave after wave of uncontrollable pleasure crashed into him. He finally released her neck to gasp as he unravelled, filling her. The feeling of his hot spend inside her and his delicious moans by her ear finally pushed her over the edge as well. She screamed and dug her nails into his shoulders holding onto him for dear life.

Her cunt was spasming and convulsing around him trying to drain every last drop and he was more than eager to let her.

After a few last desperate thrusts, he collapsed on top of her. Coming down from his high, reality began to sink in once more. He didn’t often reach bliss with his partners let alone reach it first. And he’d drank from her, a lot, definitely more than he should have. Shame set in his gut, and he winced.

Willing his shaking muscles to cooperate he lifted himself off her and moved to crash by her side.

She whispered an incantation by his side and suddenly the room was engulfed in a bright green light. It vanished as soon as it came, and he finally looked at her, a complex mix of emotions swirling within him. Gods, she looked radiant. His bites decorated her body, and blood had been smeared all over her neck down to her chest. He felt an urge to lick it despite it having already gone dry. But the most unexpected sight was the radiant smile on her face. He realized with a pang that he rarely saw her smile at all, except during these intimate moments. It shouldn't be surprising, given their current circumstances, but it still felt like a shame.

“Healing magic?" he rasped, his voice rough. "I didn't know wizards could mend wounds."

A smug grin spread across her face "We can't usually. I learned it from a scroll I bought in the Druid Grove. Abjuration's my specialty, after all” A hint of pride snuck into her voice.

Of course, a wizard would use any opportunity to brag about their intelligence. Despite the urge to roll his eyes, there was something rather adorable about her smugness.

"Actually," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper, "when I saw it, I remembered what you said before… about holding back." her eyes shot open suddenly only to see him staring at her curiously"-"Not that I expected this to happen again or anything!"

A sardonic smile played on his lips. "Of course you didn't." He paused, studying her flushed face. It seemed like his plan was already working, soon he'd have her wrapped around his finger. Somehow it didn’t feel like a success.

"But if we did," she pressed on, "I thought… well, you might enjoy it more if you didn't have to worry about keeping your hunger in check."

Her cheeks burned scarlet, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing on a stray thread on the bedroll. She cursed herself inwardly. A lifetime spent studying magic hadn't prepared her for the flustered mess Astarion turned her into.

"Casual relationships aren't exactly my forte," she mumbled, the lack of experience a foreign and unwelcome sensation.

A strange tug pulled at Astarion's chest. People didn't typically prioritize his pleasure, let alone go to such lengths to ensure his enjoyment. He pushed the thought down. This was about a fair exchange, he gave her as good as he got.

"You sweet generous thing. Aren’t you just full of surprises?” he teased, his voice tinged with amusement. “I can't wait to see what other hidden talents of yours we can explore."

He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Really? Well..." she said half-jokingly as her tail raised, waving through the air " I can think of a few." She said with a wink.

She was more debaucherous than he gave her credit for.

Her tail snaked out and snatched her drink, bringing it to her lips before setting it down beside him. He caught a whiff of a healing potion, she truly had thought of everything.

"We should probably get dressed before anyone decides to thank us for saving their tails."

A moment of silence passed and when he looked back up at her, she was fast asleep.

Disbelief battled with a flicker of genuine warmth in his chest. How could someone fall asleep so quickly, so trustingly, after their… exertions? A chuckle escaped his lips. Well, it wasn’t that surprising given how much he tired her out.

It would be downright cruel to wake her now. And the thought of her staying until the morning wasn’t unappealing exactly.

He rose and put his clothes on hastily, embracing the feeling of safety they brought. Dressed, he lay back down beside her, the warmth of her body a stark contrast to the chill that had settled within him. Here, in the quiet aftermath, the silence pressed in, suffocating.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her body shifting unconsciously closer to his. He flinched, a primal instinct against the unexpected touch. But then, as quickly as it flared, the tension dissipated. He watched her for a moment, there was a vulnerability in her sleep, a stark contrast to the determined woman he knew.

Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead. Her skin was warm under his touch, sending a tremor through him. He snatched his hand back, a surge of self-loathing rising in his throat. What was he doing? He shouldn't…

But the quiet rhythm of her breathing, the steady rise and fall of her chest, had a strange calming effect. He found himself mimicking her breath, slow and deep, willing himself to succumb to the darkness.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #smut #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion fanfiction #my fanfiction

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sorceresssundries · 6 months

Text

REVIVIFY - CHAPTER 1

Gale/Tav - 2577 words

AO3 LINK

Summary:

“He was right in front of you!” Gale’s breathing is heavy. “You could have killed him easily, and yet you...” He grips your arms and stares you down. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to witness that?” You thought you could hear a slight crack in his voice. “You were reckless and foolish and not the level-headed leader I expected you to be.

You lurch upwards and gasp, choking on the air rushing into your lungs. There is an instant of crushing panic, and then just as quickly, peace. Normality. As your breathing steadies, you look around. Your companions are gathered around where you are now sitting up, but the face you're searching for is not among them. You see a flash of a purple robe disappearing behind a tent flap.

“Erm, he’ll be back, I'm sure!” Karlach is looking at you with relief, though there is still a slight worry in her eyes. “I know Withers is some ancient, crazy deity or something, but I still doubted he would be able to do it!” She looks at him a little sheepishly. “Good job, mate! She still looks a bit pale, though. Did you do it right?”

Withers responds with a stern look and then takes his leave.

“Charming,” she turns her golden eyes back to you. “Are you feeling okay?”

You are still trying to process, to remember what happened. Your head aches, and your lungs are sore from the sudden fullness of air. You settle your hand on your chest as things begin to clear up.

“Battle axe to the chest, darling. Unpleasant way to go.” Astarian is sitting on a tree trunk not far away, looking over a recently looted dagger and not seeming concerned in the slightest. “Such a waste of perfectly good blood. It was quite a spectacle, though. And despite your best intentions of getting us all killed, it didn’t take long after you snuffed it for us to finish the job.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes at him. “Yes, Astarion, what a hero you are. Nothing to do with Gale going full wizard barbarian.”

Memories are starting to pool back into your recently revived mind. You were at the Goblin Camp. You had one more leader to take out, Dror Ragzlin. Weak and spent from your fight with Minthara, you remember having enough energy to conjure one more spell. The hulking Goblin was in front of you; one blast of flame hands and he would be down. But something caught your eye. Gale. He was battling two goblins, firing off magic missiles but not seeing the one rushing behind him. It wasn’t even a decision really; you don’t remember even thinking. You sacrificed the killing blow and fired protective energy at Gale. It was enough; he shimmered gold and had enough protection to withstand the approaching Goblin. You remember a brief hum of relief and then excruciating pain. Then nothing.

“It was quite hot, actually,” Astarion hops down off the tree stump. “I didn’t think our wizard had it in him, but seeing him lose his temper makes me reconsider my thoughts of him being a big old bore.” He looks pensive for a moment. “Do you think he’d let me bite him?”

“Astarion!” Shadowheart chides. “Now is not the time. I think Gale would probably have a stake at the ready if you went anywhere near him right now.” She draws her focus back to you. “After you fell, Gale pretty much finished off the Goblins single-handedly. He sent a bolt of lightning straight through Ragzlin’s skull.”

You feel shame redden your face. Planning this attack had been your responsibility. You should have insisted everyone took time to rest properly before the final battle. You were impatient and reckless and wanted it over. The ghost of the axe wound rips at your chest. You know it isn’t real, but the pain has split you apart. It aches.

“Where is Lae’zel?” You look around for your Githyanki comrade, surprised she hasn’t chided you yet for your failure in battle.

“Hunting, I think. She helped us carry you back. Be warned, she’s said she’s going to go through intensive battle training with you to ‘improve your incompetence,’ her words not mine.” Shadowheart holds her hands up defensively.

Karlach shifts a little uncomfortably. “And, erm, Gale is just in his tent. Resting probably. I’d go check in on him if I were you.”

You stand shakily and look at your friends with gratitude. “I’m sorry. We’ll plan things out better next time.”

“Well, I'd hope so, darling.” Astarion chides. “All this heroic nonsense is bad enough as it is, without the shame of getting our arses kicked by a bunch of goblins.” He puts his hand on your shoulder as he walks past, and the others look at you sheepishly as they go back about their business. They busy themselves sorting out loot from the Goblin Camp and preparing things for dinner.

“Gale?” Your voice sounds small as you stand outside his tent. You hear the sound of a book being closed, but he does not respond. “Please, can I talk with you? I owe you an apology and some thanks.”

The flap opens, and he stands in front of you, grabbing your arm roughly and pulling you into his tent. The air is heated with fury. “I don’t want thanks or an apology.” His usual soft brown eyes appear darker than usual. “What I would like is a companion who isn’t going to get themselves cleaved in half with a battle axe due to pure stupidity.”

You never cope very well with being told off, and the shame and smallness you feel start to subside in reaction to being reprimanded by this arrogant wizard. “He was right in front of you!” Gale’s breathing is heavy. “You could have killed him easily, and yet you...” He grips your arms and stares you down. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to witness that?” You thought you could hear a slight crack in his voice. “You were reckless and foolish and not the level-headed leader I expected you to be”

You pull out of his grasp and glare at him. “I didn’t ask for leadership. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for the responsibility and exhaustion and burden.” You feel yourself blazing to match his heat. “Maybe if you’d paid more attention to what was around you, I wouldn’t have had to spend the last of my energy protecting you.”

“Why were you protecting me?” His voice is raised now, and surely the whole camp can hear their arguing. “You were right next to him! Why were you focused on what I was doing? I thought after everything that’s happened so far, you’d have a little more faith in my preternatural abilities. You behaved like a reckless martyr.”

“And you’re behaving like an ARSE,” you snap before turning on your heels and storming out of the tent. It’s frustrating that you don’t have Gale’s cutting use of vocabulary, but you feel as though you made your point.

You stride straight past your campmates, all who look a bit awkward, apart from Astarion who seems positively gleeful. “What a lovely bit of drama we’re all witnessing. It really does get the blood racing, so to speak.”

You hear a thud and an “Ow!” as you leave them behind, and imagine Karlach has probably given him a well-deserved thump. Good.

You approach the edge of the water and sit down. Thoughts are racing and blood is pumping. How dare he! Talking to you like a child. As though you had wanted to get your chest split open. The memory makes you shudder again, and the imaginary wound burns, taking your breath away. You need to calm and ground yourself. You are back, you are alive, you are fine.

You draw a circle in the earth and rough sketches of sacred runes around the outside. You take off your armour and kneel in the centre of the circle in your undershirt, head bowed and palms placed upon the earth.

When Gale had taught you magic and pulled upon the weave, he had conjured it out of the air, as though some celestial force was moving around you and drawing you together. The magic was ethereal, divine. Your druidic magic was different. You drew the feeling of peace and harmony from the earth, grounding yourself and connecting with the cool soil beneath you. If you focused hard enough, you could hear the world breathe around you, as though it was a living soul with a heartbeat beneath your fingertips. You were connected to all living things. Your breaths flow with the wind sweeping across your face, and as you focus on your peace, small white flowers begin to bloom around the edge of your circle. You feel them caress your fingertips as you meditate.

You’re unsure of how long you stay there, drawing upon the earth for comfort and guidance, but when you open your eyes, dusk has set in and the air has grown cool around you, causing your skin to tingle. You give your thanks and pick up your armour, admiring the flowers which have bloomed around you. You decide to walk barefoot back to your tent in your shirt; druids do not care so much about ‘appropriate dress.’ You just want to enjoy the feeling of the soil beneath your feet as you make your journey to bed. Feeling much more relaxed and grounded than earlier. You have been brought back to the earth, and you will be much more careful in the future not to be pulled from it again.

As you slip into your tent, you think of Gale. His tent is not far from yours, which you are now beginning to regret. You remember the evening you spent with him as he summoned the weave and shared a moment of magic with you, how the thought of kissing him caused him to blush and stumble over his words. The contrast between his softness then, and his harshness earlier is dizzying. Your heart sinks at the thought of your connection fading. Slipping away into the night. It had been a shared moment of rapture, and the ghost wound in your chest blazes at the thought it may have been the only one you would ever share.

As you sleep, darkness creeps into your cluttered mind. The void you had been pulled into by the goblin leader swirls its way into your thoughts, inciting nightmarish visions while you sleep. The axe. The pain. The nothingness. The cold steel wrenched you apart, splitting your ribs and cascading your blood on the ground. Gale had watched it happen. Gale. You remember the relief and warmth as you saw him protected, and your dreams start to taunt you. What if you hadn’t seen him? What if your positions had been reversed? Next time you could be the one watching him, his body breaking in front of you, life slipping from his eyes. “No,” you plead to the darkness in your head. “No, I won’t let that happen. Not to Gale.” There is a mocking laugh, and an inevitability pressing against you. He’ll get hurt one day. From a spell, or an axe, or the devastating orb that resides within him. You feel sick, and then you’re awake.

“Tav” Once again, you are pulled out of darkness. This time from the horrors in your subconscious, and not the peaceful calm of death. You’re sweaty and breathless, and you can’t tell if the moisture on your face is from sweat or tears. You have an awful feeling it’s both. You feel a cooling touch on your forehead. Gale. He’s hovering over you, concern etched across his gentle face. You feel fresh tears spill. “It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m here.” He pulls you against him, wrapping his arms around you. You stay like this for a little while until your breathing slows to mimic his, his hand gently stroking your head. You feel him press a light kiss against your hair, and you pull back to look at him.

“I had a nightmare,” you say, as though it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“I know,” he sits back, taking you in. “You were so distressed.” You can hear the worry in his voice, the sentiment is echoed in the warm softness of his eyes.

“I’m okay now,” you say, not sure which one of you you’re trying to convince. Your hand goes to your chest, pressing the area where the axe struck you. Gale watches intently.

“I’m so sorry, Tav. I was angry. I watched you… I saw…” His breath hitches as he tries to speak. It’s not like him to struggle to string a sentence together.

You take one of his hands and place it on your chest, over your heartbeat. “I’m here. I’m okay. I’m alive and safe. I’m here with you.”

“You said my name, in your sleep. You were crying and you said my name. Was it because of the way I spoke to you, because of what I said?” His hand moved from your chest to cup your face. His thumb stroked your cheek, and you felt your heart race.

“No. I just...” You struggle with what to say next. How do you say it? How do you tell him that the thought of losing him is more terrifying than being struck down with an axe? “I was reliving what happened. You were there. I was scared, that’s all.” You don’t look him in the eyes as you keep the truth close to your chest. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about really; from the sounds of it, you can take on hordes of enemies by yourself from now on.” You flick your eyes up to meet his, and he blushes a little.

“Ah, yes, well, I must admit I did let my emotions get the better of me.” He moves his hand from your face and back into his lap, folding himself so he’s now sat cross-legged in front of you. “I don’t need to tell you how powerful and uncontrollable magic can be, and if I'm out of harmony with the weave, it can lead to disastrous torrents of magic. We were lucky, I think, that it was channelled into the destruction of those foul creatures. But care must be taken, even in the most… emotional… of circumstances. I could have put our little team in terrible danger.” His hand subconsciously moved to his own chest, touching the swirling orb branded into his beautiful skin.

“Well, on the plus side, I think it turned Astarion on,” you laugh lightly at the thought. “You may have found yourself a new admirer. Be careful though; he bites.”

Gale laughs, and the sound soothes you like a balm. “Not really my type, but I'll be aware of any effect I may have on him from now on.” He smirks at you, and you feel relief wash over you. Gale was easy, comforting company. You’re glad he came to help. The thought of him leaving you to the darkness again makes you uneasy.

“Gale,” you shift a little awkwardly, and he takes you in, tilting his head slightly. “Would you mind bunking with me tonight? I think I could use a bit of company.” You feel embarrassed at the request, but he grins at you.

“Of course, anything I can do for you, consider it most enthusiastically done. Let me just go and get my bedroll.”

You sleep soundly for the rest of the night; any worry of losing your connection with Gale drifts into the ether. Your hands are entwined together across the floor, and your dreams are much, much sweeter.

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale

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crow-winged-wolf · 24 days

Text

Self-Same Trial

So I'm gonna go out on a limb and finally post my first story on here, please be kind. it's fluffy, has a few innuendos, but nothing mature. Not yet anyway lol. If this turns out well, I might post the spicier stuff. I once promised to write a little something about Astarion seeing himself at the Self-Same Trial. And here it is.

Anyway, pairing is Astarion and F!RangerTav (Serra)

The four walked into the room slowly, looking around at every corner of the room as if it was about to leap out and tackle them. Shadowheart was at the front of the pack, gaze locked on to a statue of Shar holding a basin. She approached confidently, grabbing the dagger on the edge of the bowl and slicing her palm without a second thought. Serra winced once more, not truly used to seeing someone happily open their palm 3 times for various challenges, but there really wasn't any fighting involved, so she guessed a weapon hand weakening wound shouldn't be too much of a bother. Shadowheart looked like she was listening to something, nodding and taking a sharp breath.

“So, this one is called the Self-Same Trial.” Shadowheart announced, turning to them.

“What does that mean?” Serra asked as they continued to the next room, pivoting on her heel mid stride to walk backwards.

“I’m not sure.” Shadowheart shrugged. “I don't know what the trials are, just what the statue holding the basin said. Vanquish your old life to receive my wisdom.”

“Maybe we can ask that rather well armed group up there.” Astarion interjected, pointing up at the raised platform above them. Serra turned around to look up at four figures sneering down at them.

Astarion recognized three of the figures. There was the small blonde Wood Elf Ranger at the front with a crackling bow clutched in her hand who was clearly Serra. The hulking red Barbarian Tiefling to her left with an eternally burning sword was Karlach, and the Half-Elf Cleric to the right with a glowing mace and black, tightly bound hair was Shadowheart. That only left the fourth person, the male High Elf of the group with a pale complexion, silver hair, and daggers clenched in both hands. He was boasting a cocksure smirk that made Astarion want to Misty Step up there and wipe it off his face before he could move, but he held back to watch the girls reactions.

“They look exactly like us!” Serra marveled.

“Oh, I get it, you have to fight only yourself!” Shadowheart called out as the group up top opened fire on them, the Serra clone and the white haired High Elf drawing on their bows while the Karlach and Shadowheart clones went for the steps to get closer.

He exchanged a look with Serra before pulling his hood out from the collar of his armor and over his head, fading into the shadows without another word. “Astar- crap.” She hissed, barely twisting out of the way of yet another arrow from her own clone. “Get down here and do that!” She snarled, drawing her own arrows back and sending them through the clones shoulder.

“Well, hello darling.” He purred as he dropped the invisibility right behind the Elf. “Care to dance?”

The clone turned and regarded him silently, putting the bow away and slowly drawing his daggers again as the two began cautiously circling each other.

“What, nothing to say?” He tutted in disappointment. “I was hoping this would be more than just physical.”

He had to admit, the clone was rather handsome. The drow armor that Serra insisted on dying red and black really made his crimson eyes practically glow against his pallid skin. And it was fitted just the right way to cut a very alluring figure. He had to remember later to look into getting more corset style clothes, those looked especially good on him.

The clone lunged forwards blade first, the sharp edge skating past Astarion's side as he twisted out of the way, parrying the second blade that came down for his chest. It still managed to bite into his arm with a glancing blow, making him hiss in pain, then retaliate with a strike at the clones exposed back. He landed both daggers into its shoulders, knocking the wind out of him as he hit the ground face first.

Below them, Serra had managed to entangle and drag her clone down to her, a resound snap coming from the mirror images arm when she landed on her side hard. Karlach had all but slashed her clone to pieces, and Shadowheart was exchanging blows with her own, both succeeding at missing the other with firebolts.

As Serra dispatched her clone, she looked up at the raised platform, slightly worried. The girls were almost finished with their fights, and Astarion was usually one of the fastest in a fight, ending one or two enemies before she could fire off a single arrow. Him still being missing was unusual. She headed for the stairs to go up and check on him.

Meanwhile, Astarion was looking down at his prone dance partner, his eyes drifting down along his back and stopping at his backside. Astarion quirked an eyebrow at the clone, twisting to look down past his own shoulder, then back at the clone. “Hm, not everyday you get to see your own-”

“Astarion? Are you okay?” Serra called, peering over the floor as she came up to eye level with it. The silver haired Elf waved her off, and heard the rustle of the arrows in her quiver.

“I’m fine, pet!” He snapped before she could nock her arrow, the rustling stopping. He glanced at her, the tip of her bow disappearing from view as she watched him cautiously.

“Okay.” She climbed the rest of the way up, sitting down on the raised floor to watch Karlach and Shadowheart finish their fights.

“Pity,” He sighed as he knelt down and brought his blade to the heavily injured clones neck, cradling his chin in his palm firmly but delicately. “I was just enjoying gazing upon this gorgeous face.” Serra glanced over, watching the reverence with which Astarion regarded the clone. He had a knee in his back to keep him down, his expression saddened by the thought of losing his first chance in a long time at seeing his own face. Her eyes brightened as she thought of something, tucking the idea away for later.

He dispatched the clone quickly and cleanly, wiping the blades on the clones back before standing up and looking around. Karlach and Shadowheart climbed the stairs to join them, Serra picking herself up and stooping over the Astarion clones body to pick something up.

“Where is the orb?” Karlach asked, looking around. Serra came up between them, placing the softly glowing purple orb in Shadowheart’s hands.

“Astarion’s clone had it. Anyone hurt?” She looked around, each of them checking themselves over.

“Just a scrape, darling, nothing to worry about.”

“Excellent, let’s go.” She nodded, leading them back out of the room.

“So, they looked exactly like us?” Astarion asked. The girls nodded. “Well, I don't know about you, but my clone certainly was a handsome devil, wasn't he?” He smiled brightly, Serra cracking a distracted smirk.

That night at camp, when everyone went to sleep, Serra snuck off to Gale’s tent with a request, careful not to let Astarion see her. He was sweet, if not somewhat territorial at times, and she saw his expression when she spoke to Gale. She held a finger to her lips as she approached, Gale smiling at her in confusion. He glanced at Astarion’s tent where she was usually headed, then back at her. “Serra, what brings you to my tent tonight?”

“I want to learn a party trick, do you mind teaching me?”

“Well sure, why not.” He shrugged. “Which one?”

It took her three nights practicing with Gale in secret before she was confident in her ability to cast this very specific spell. Multiple times, Gale asked why this one, but she always dodged the question with a well placed inquiry of her own.

In the morning of the fourth day, Serra looked exhausted, but proud as she came up to Astarion and pulled him aside. “I want to show you something.”

“Does it include a secluded corner of this shrine?” He asked, smirking at the slight blush that tinged her tired face.

“Only if you want.” She retorted, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes. “Give me a moment, retuto sui!” She waved her hand in front of her face, slowly opening her now crimson red eyes, smiling then wincing as she bit her lip. “Fangth. Fangth are new.” She lisped, giggling in a more masculine voice that didn't belong to her.

Astarion stood rooted to the spot as she changed her appearance to mirror his all the way down to his height, breaking from his stupor when she bit herself. He placed two fingers under her chin, pushing her face up so he could look at it better. “When did you learn this?”

“The patht couple nighths.”

“You can’t possibly have gotten every feature correct, darling. My nose isn’t that big.” He chuckled, turning her head side to side slowly.

“I can get better. I jutht need practiss.” She frowned as she bit her tongue this time in her struggle to stop lisping.

“How far does this illusion go?” Astarion glanced down at her flat chest then back up to her face.

“How far do you want it to go, darling?” She mimicked him playfully, albeit clumsily, rather enjoying the feel of his voice as it reverberated in her throat and upper chest deliciously.

He cupped her face between his palms, running his thumb across the cheekbone that he was slowly coming to understand was his, and smiling impishly. “This could be a new way of exploring myself.” He cooed.

“Careful, sweetheart, that almost sounded like an offer.” She winked at him, unable to hold back her giggles at her imitation. She didn’t have his laugh perfected, so it sounded more like Astarion giggling like a giddy schoolgirl. “Hey, wait a minute.” She said as she managed to reign in her laughter, taking a step back. “I've alwayth wanted to do this!” She reached up, carding her fingers into the soft silver curls on her head and ruffling them before pulling them forward. “Man, your hair’s long!” She laughed. She tried to push it back in place, failing miserably as the locks fell across her eyes again in a feathery light mess that didn't seem to bother her as much as it did him. Astarion reached up and fixed her hair for her, tutting her and slapping her hands away as she tried to help.

“What made you think of learning this spell?” Astarion asked. Serra smiled sweetly, wrapping her hands around his wrists and placing them at her cheeks again.

“I thaw- SAW how you were looking at your clone in the self-same trial. When you said it was a pity to lose that handsome face, I remembered Gale talking about a spell that lets you mirror someone's appearance. I thought I might like to try to give you the chance to have a look at your face up close instead of in the middle of a fight.”

“And what a marvelous face it is.” He said, Serra beaming.

“I don’t smile like that! You’re too giddy to be wearing my face!” He flicked her nose, Serra laughing again.

“Oh, this is why you came to me for those midnight lessons!” Gale said loudly, laughing. Serra shot him a withering look, Astarion somewhat bemused she was sneaking around just to learn to clone his face.

“Thanks, Gale.” She growled, Gale looking at her in surprise.

“Oh! I thought…” He looked at Astarion, then back at Serra.

“Well, I’m definitely not your crafty student!” The silver haired Elf motioned to himself with a flourish, Serra crossing her arms over her chest, momentarily distracted by the firm pecs that greeted her forearms.

“Ah, you certainly mastered this spell, you had me fooled!” Gale announced, the expression on his face a clear indication he was about to launch into a long diatribe about how the weave worked or something like that. Serra was about to cut him off when Astarion interrupted him.

“I don’t want to be a bother, but isn’t your little roast looking a tad dark?” He pointed to the fire where a roast was suspended over it on a spit. Gale looked, suddenly bolting for the food while muttering about the fire being too big. “There, now it’s just us again, darling.” Astarion smirked mischievously, taking a step closer to Serra. “Enjoying what that feels like?” He plucked at her sleeve, Serra looking away in embarrassment as she dropped her arms to her sides.

“I think I’m gonna change back.” She muttered, Astarion stopping her as she raised her hand by tracing her jaw and chin with gentle fingertips.

“Let me enjoy this just a bit longer, pet. I do rather enjoy finally being able to gaze upon my own face.”

#bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion female tav

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bl3ss3dbyt1amat · 8 months

Text

OC ASK THINGIE!! tagged by @tadpole-apocalypse

name: malas!! (formerly "of the bhaal temple", currently "of... my house?" he doesnt get it at all but hes got the spirit)

nickname(s): mal (astarion), arthax dus (by lae'zel, roughly translates to "utter moron" in draconic. theyre besties trust), evae (astarion, tranlsates to "love" in elvish), dragonbro (karlach), bhaalbud (wyll and karlach)

pronouns: he/him very loosely. sometimes he just drops shit like "i wish i were a girl" and everyone in the party has to deal with that for a second before moving on.

star sign: i would imagine capricorn with maybe something in cancer? hes a very responsible "big brother" quiet type but can absolutely be emotional. just like. in private. and then he immediately pretends like nothing happened. IM SORRY IM OVERTHINKING

height: 7'0 (okay last tangent but ironically i was actually working on a drawing of all the companions with my height and body type companions for them. so this was something i was very prepared for)

orientation: gay and asexual!! (he doesnt MIND sex and was totally chill with being intimate with astarion on the grave and shit, he just also doesnt really seek it out or desire it. ALSO i feel like he probably had a phase where he dated girls and kept trying to convince people/himself he wasnt gay)

race: white dragonborn! though in my head hes more of like. a hunk of bhaal's flesh in the vague shape of a white dragonborn. i think actual dragonborn might get an uncanny valley vibe from him if they look at him too long

romancing: astarion :DDDD

fave fruit: im really amused by the idea of this big hulking dragon guy very delicately picking some razzberries or blackberries to eat. so im gonna go with that (someone remind me to draw that later!!)

fave season: winter probably! i like to think that he absolutely thrives in the cold, being (sort of) a white dragonborn

fave flower: canada thistle! technically not a flower but a weed. i have a headcanon that poor malas just destroys every single plant he even considers going near. canada thistle is a very hard to get rid of weed, so i think he would be delighted to find a "flower" that could put up with his creepy death vibes

fave scent: this is gonna sound so weird but like? cooked meat? and rice and that sort of thing. the smell of a home cooked meal is the general vibe (i dont feel like the bhaal temple was super hospitable when it came to making nice food? malas loses his memory and is like "i dont know why but i feel like i prefer this curry so strongly to like. human fingers")

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: secret third thing called i think malas would be indecisive and slowly drink all of them. like back to back. over the span of an hour to try in avoid anyone catching on (astarion is so onto him)

average sleep hours: i think it really depends on the day. like 4-6 days out of the week hes too paranoid and restless to sleep at all/more than like 2 hours a night (concerning all of the elves in the party who can absolutely hear him). and then the other days of the week hes so stressed from questing and staying up the previous nights he just storms into camp and sleeps from then until he is forced out of bed

dogs or cats: dogs but more accurately worgs and owlbears. i feel like he just wants a pet thats also a bit of a feral sweetheart. also big fluffy guy you can ride!! whats not to love?? malas is probably one of those guys who inexplicably gets every cat ever to hate him within seconds of meeting them. and is also probably very upset by this

dream trip: LITERALLY ANYWHERE! malas just wants to see all the shit hes never seen before/doesnt remember. ideally after finding a way for astarion to walk in the sun.

amount of blankets: i think probably none to maybe one or a sheet? hes probably overheating for most of the game, being meant for colder climates and junk

random fact(s): - as bhaal's chosen, malas was much more into the preaching aspect of things. he would still probably be a good preacher if he worshipped any gods - malas can speak draconic as well as a bit of undercommon and deep speech. i feel like he had to like. hear people talk in these languages to even remember he spoke them post-amnesia though - that comic about malas having a giant journal full of everyones bullshit wasnt a joke. hes got a scrapbook full of quests, stickynotes, drawings, diary-type entries, and probably a good few mental breakdowns - this is more of a headcanon abt dragonborns in general but i think hes got a little hoard of pretty doo-dads.

(im so sorry if the images made this unreadable it looks fine to me on computer??? i dont know how to make them smaller either sob) IVE NEVER DONE A TAG THING SO I HOPE ITS NOT JUST SUPPOSED TO BE MUTUALS MOSTLY CAUSE I HAVE TWO ONE OF WHICH TAGGED ME ORIGINALLY tagging @venusmage @mooreaux @grandmother-goblin (i wish i had seen this tav when i did my tav appreciation post!! so cool!!) @ppilotco (AGAIN WISH I HAD SEEN THEM SOONER) @divorcedwife ANDD UUHH everyone else ever forever praying i did this right

#bg3 #bg3 oc #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 tav #bg3 durge #dark urge bg3 #durge #tag game #malas posting

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meanbossart · 10 months

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I've been really enjoying your fic and it got me curious about how your campaign went??? I got the important parts (your Durge denied Bhaal, Shadowheart spared nightsong I think, Astarion obviously didn't ascend) but what else happened? Will we ever see any of the other companions?

Thanks for enjoying the story! I can say with pretty much certainty we won't be seeing any other canonical characters from the game, Jaheira, Minsc and Halsin would have stayed behind in Baldur's Gate, as well as Wyll. My Durge killed Lae'zel early in the game and Karlach also died at the end of my campaign.

Gale's character decided to go after the crown, and while he was the staple fourth member of my party the relationship had always been uh... Tense. This was before they apparently patched out how needy he was, but frankly it made for a really interesting story since i just kind of assumed his character was kind of a creep wearing a nice-guy's face. Also, to be fair, I DID fall for his "wanna see a magic trick" line but that just kindled the fire to my theory that he's actually a fairly manipulative person (and perhaps he's unaware of it). MIND YOU PLEASE that this doesn't mean i don't like his character - honestly i feel like I got a REALLY interesting side of him in my campaign and i wouldnt have it any other way - this was a party composed of the dark urge, Astarion, Shadowheart and GALE and to have us all turn down power and glory only for the goody-two-shoes wizard of the camp to turn kinda evil and power-hungry made for a really satisfying narrative.

... Sorry i ended up rambling about Gale LOL to actually answer the rest of your question, my campaign went like this:

I made a Fighter, champion sub-class, BIG hulking drow because i thought it would be funny. Because i went in blind I started off as a confused homicidal murderer who is a liiiittle weirded out about his urges but he doesnt stress TOO much about it. Is fairly standoffish and distrusting toward all of his companions which made for a weird start. Motivated by gold, killing things, getting this worm out his head and making off-color jokes. Ends up siding with the Tieflings because i also decided that, as a very hedonistic character who thinks we should be lunatics because we want to rather than because a cult is telling us to be, my durge would profoundly hate the absolute. As a male drow he also really hated Minthara so yeah, easy choice there. As mentioned above, I also killed Lae'zel when she tried to murder-suicide everybody.

I wasn't going to fuck anyone, believe it or not, so during the tiefling party i went with Gale because it SEEMED like he just wanted to show me something neat (it ended early because i failed his checks and i guess he can't get hard unless i can cast fireball). Also, at this point even though i made mostly "good" moral choices i *was* still a dick the whole time - despite this, everyone in camp wanted to fuck me BESIDES Astarion, which was so fucking funny and devastating that I decided my Durge would, from that moment on, turn on the charm and the flattery and make it his mission to bang him. So yes, they were manipulating each other. I don't have to explain why that made for a really really fun little dynamic. Also Astarion had to tell me he was a vampire through dialogue instead of biting me and i got to say "yeah duh" which was hysterical.

I finally banged him sometime during the underdark (didn't go to the creche at all) and during Act 2 I followed the same pattern of doing mostly the Good Thing while being arrogant the whole time, I fell into a kind of chaotic-neutral/true-neutral aligment and watched my little homicidal maniac cluelessly stumble his way into a hero's journey. I had also really grown to like Shadowheart at that point after having a really negative first impression of her character and she basically became my durge's best friend. Astarion also grew on me for all the reasons we know and love and he did his confession to me sometime in late act 2. I Never met Araj (though i think i mention her in the fan story only because her interaction is interesting) so I got the dialogue that isn't prompted by her encounter. I also had to "break up" with Gale at this point which boy that sure came as a surprise to me! I also didnt break the shadow curse.

Because I didnt kill isobel (Again, my guy didnt like people telling him what to do or not to do), my little butler guy made me wanna kill Astarion. I SWEAR this happened pretty late in game, maybe even in the first night in baldur's gate which i realize is unusual. Naturally I didnt and I decided that would be the turning point where my Durge decides to not just Go With The Flow of things but actively fight his urge and pursue its root cause. He tried to be more of a good person from that point on which was kind of a clumsy effort lol

He completely antagonized the emperor immediately upon him revealing his true identity, stole the orphic hammer from Raphael's house, betrayed Gortash after setting an "alliance" with him, killed Orin (she kidnapped the orphan and killed her in front of me because i failed the check :| ) stopped Astarion from ascending and helped Shadowheart kill everyone in the house of grief, i let her make her own choice regarding her parents and she decided to kill them. I also encouraged her to not immediately align with the Selunites just because of her past.

I got Astarion the thing that helps him read the necromancy book and i cannot tell you how satifyins it was that, after giving up unspeakable power by killing Cazador, that dude and his little ghoul army basically mauled Orin and her grandad for me practically by themselves while I was down on the floor with 1 health. PROUD OF YOU BUDDY.

Gale spoke to Mystra as well at some point and i swear I NEVER encouraged that guy to take the crown for himself. It was always either "do whatever you want" or "i think thats a shitty idea." At this point my Durge was super sick of him so they had a bit of a crappy relationship which may have something to do with how things turned out.

I betrayed the emperor, released Orpheus and when he asked if any of us wanted to be a mindflayer i went "Fuck No" big time and luckily the guy just did it for me. Chaos ensues, I kill the emperor and the absolute in an epic battle that took me like a whole day. I also killed Orpheus when he asked me to. Karlach died ( :c ) and Gale told me he was gonna fuck off to get the crown. In the final Astarion dialogue I told him we would find a way to get him to walk under the sun again.... AAAAAnd thats it i think? Man this game is huge lmao i swear i wasnt trying to be long-winded.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #a novel experience #ask #bg3 spoilers

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