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joonsytip · 7 months

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So It Goes || Wonwoo

Synopsis: Your acceptance of his rejection and attempt on moving on has been hurting Wonwoo to the bones, head and most significantly, his heart.

Word Count: 1.3k

Sequel to Say Don't Go and set in the Withering for You universe (can be read as a standalone drabble series).

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, mention of fucking once, making out

Next Part : All Too Well

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"Take me with you, please."

Wonwoo double takes at you, finding it hard to believe that such words could come out of your mouth and not be directed at him.

You are grinning ear to ear, something you haven't done in a while.

"Are you sure because all I do is work.", Jihoon tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and says, "You'd eventually get bored of me."

"I can fill in for all the interesting things", you tell him coyly.

Seungcheol and his wife are expecting their first baby so the group decided to throw a party to the soon to be parents. The ambience is cozy, the lights are dim. Soothing music is filling in the space and after long and fun conversations all together, now you all are scattered in groups chatting the night away.

Jihoon is a new addition to the group, the prodigal musician who was initially bagged by Seungcheol's wife to manage the new branch of the academy founded by her and Seungkwan but ended up playing an important part in the reunion of Seungcheol and his wife and hence was adopted by the group instantly. Especially you, you've grown fond of Jihoon. Seems the same for him as well.

It's a pleasing atmosphere, everything is eye pleasing but also, such an eyesore to Wonwoo. Because though no one has asked him to be standing so close to you, he at his own will, is leaning against a wall adjacent to where you're seated across Jihoon who has now his hand placed atop yours. Wonwoo's teeth are sinking onto an empty cup, eyes sharp and hands fisted with all his attention spanned on you.

"You're making it so obvious."

Wonwoo turns his head to Seungcheol's whispering, the later grabs his arm and takes him away to a more secluded area. Seungcheol takes a quick jog to his wife asking her to call him if she needs anything, kisses her forehead softly and walks back to where his friend is standing.

"So what are you gonna about it?", Seungcheol asks.

Wonwoo doesn't meet his eyes, "About what?"

Seungcheol sighs, he understands where his friend is coming from and also feels guilty about his family painting this horrendous picture of the rich and powerful that has scared the person infront of him so much that he believes almost everyone is sick and twisted.

"Everyone in this room knows that you like Y/N.", Seungcheol says sadly patting his shoulder, "And not every family is sick like mine.", he smiles sweeping a quick glance at his wife, "But look we're back together, after everything, we're in love, we're gonna have a family soon. It's the best of anything I could have ever asked for."

To be honest, when Seungcheol got back together with his wife, it would given Wonwoo a hope, he could see the silver linings but he is still afraid.

"I have already rejected her and...", Wonwoo's gaze falls on you, a sad smile ghosting on his lips, "She looks happier with him, she's moving on."

You haven't looked at him once and he's unable to take his eyes off you tonight.

"You're mistaken.", Seungcheol says and hands him a filled cup, "You don't need to hold back everytime. Try living for yourself from now on."

It's not easy he thinks, not when his brother is lying unconscious, getting treated in the hospital, not when you belong to the family of chaebols, several heirs lining up to get married to you while he's just a secretary, who's still trying to meet ends.

Wonwoo doesn't hold back, he finds a seat at one of the tables and resorts to drinking which he has never done before as an obligation to himself to be the one to drive all others to safety, though never been asked.

"He's worse than her.", Mingyu tells Seungkwan.

"Shouldn't we stop him?", Chan asks, "He's drowning in his sorrows."

"Damn, Jihoon turned out to be such a great actor, even I'd have believed that there's something going on between Y/N and him, if I hadn't known.", Seungkwan mutters eyes going back and forth between the three of you, "It's funny knowing Jihoon has a motive to make Wonwoo jealous but sad knowing Y/N wants him to think she's moving on just not to be a burden to him anymore."

It's the dawn hours when Seungcheol who is as sober as day just so he could attend his wife anytime is begging everyone to dismiss the party insisting his wife needs to maintain her sleep schedule and rest well but she won't leave until everyone does.

"Okay, so my driver's coming , anyone wants to come with me?", Chan asks.

Seungkwan and Mingyu immediately tags along.

"Jihoon, Y/N what about you both?", Seungcheol asks.

"Take Jihoon with you both.", you say sighing, "I am not drunk, haven't had drinks."

"Okay, we are gonna take Wonwoo also--"

You cut off Seungcheol, "I'll take Wonwoo with me, don't worry."

No one objects, one by one they leave. You go to Wonwoo who hasn't sobered up a bit despite of the efforts of Mingyu from before.

"Come on, let's go.", you tell him, helping him to get up.

Drunk Wonwoo is chatty, his honeydew voice is eating off your ears as you struggle to put his big frame inside the car.

He's talking about how he keeps loosing the games nowadays because he lacks concentration. He talks about how happy he was when the doctors said that his brother can have a full recovery. He's spilling out random facts, cracking lame jokes and whatnot.

He's so cute, you think. You wanna record this version of him, wanna stop driving and give your full attention to him, to look at him. Because you know once he sobers up he's not gonna remember any of this, going back to his stoic self.

Seungcheol has texted you the passcode of his house and somehow you've ended on sheets under Wonwoo.

"Be here, with me", he mumbles, his soft breaths grazing your neck.

"Wonwoo, move", you huff trying to get him off you but fail one more time as his arms lock you in place.

He lifts his head to meet your gaze, removes the hair off your face and says, "You're so beautiful, Y/N. So good at everything you do, have so many people admiring you.", he smiles through the slurry words, "You could have anyone, anyone would be willing to be with you but out of all people you choose me."

You go stiff when he rests his forehead against you. And your whole body gives up when he confesses, "I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that it hurts. I'm so sorry for hurting you."

After some moments of staring, your hands attempt to push him again, "You're just drunk, you don't mean anything you're saying. Please--"

The words remain stuck in your throat as Wonwoo kisses you. His lips move softly against yours, the aftertaste of alcohol in his mouth intoxication you as well, as you find yourself giving in, kissing him back.

He takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, deepening the kiss. You moan, gasping for breath, letting his tongue lick your whole mouth. Every ounce of rational thoughts leaves your body, just like the clothes those stay discarded on his bedroom floor.

Wonwoo is fast asleep beside you, hugging your naked body after fucking you hard because you surely wouldn't call it making love.

You slowly remove his hand and get up. After putting back your clothes on, you keep the medicine and water on the sidetable.

"You probably didn't mean for any of this to happen between us.", you whisper, trying to hold back the tears, "You won't even remember all of this."

You peck the side of his head and take your leave.

When Wonwoo wakes up later, he groans because of the killer headache but also sobers up straight, panicking when he finds no traces of you in the house.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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powdermelonkeg · 5 months

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Faerûn Calendar for BG3

Anyways! Set up the calendar for Faerûn as a whole, then pasted the dates we know about the game in there. Included so far:

The exact date the Nautiloid crashed

The exact date ceremorphosis was supposed to kill you

An approximate end to Act I

The window for the date you could have meet Isobel

An approximate end to Act II

The window for the date Halsin could have romanced you

An approximate end to Act III

(in 1493) Withers' Reunion Party approximate date

Also has phases of the moon, season, and what day it correlates to in our world. You would not believe the tinkering I had to do to get Earth months to align once leap years were factored in.

#now i've just gotta figure out how to measure out savaeds for witcher world to line them up to this #bg3 #dnd #worldbuilding

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taki-yaki · 7 months

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Batstarion A!Astarion + S!Astarion Headcanons

Pairing: A!Astarion/S!Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav/Durge

This one took a while to write up, but I did learn some interesting facts about vampire bats and tried to apply them here.

**Spawn Astarion**

After the defeat of Cazador, Astarion soon discovered a book within the palace, which contained the skills of vampire spawns that his master never wanted him to know about.

One of these skills was to turn into a creature of the night, this quickly intrigued Astarion, causing him to try and master the spell. He even tries practising wild shape methods taught to him by Halsin.

This takes a while for him to master, night after night spent trying to improve his skills with no transformation in sight. One night, nearly at his wits end with trying to master it, you speak,

“Maybe it’s a phrase you have to shout, try yelling bat, maybe that would work?”

“Darling, I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as saying the word bat-”.

Suddenly, who was once standing in place of Astarion, now lay a small white ball of fluff with wings.

You are greeted by happy chirps and squeaks, quickly turning into a chorus of angry squeaks. One drink of speak to animals potion unravels what he is saying.

“I can’t turn back, darling do something, I don’t want to be stuck looking like a rat!” he huffed.

“Try and relax, it might wear off?”

“How can I relax like this, I don’t even have arms!”

Softly touching the white curly on his head, with the lightest tip of your finger, the pale bat relaxes instantly within the palm of your hand, almost purring at your touch.

Suddenly, the weight shifted from your hands, causing you to drop the bat onto the ground, only for Astarion to shift back into his humanoid form.

Checking to see if he’s fine, you are greeted by light snoring coming from him, seemingly collapsed from exhaustion, the transformation takes on him. Over time, he learns how to master turning into a bat with ease, allowing him to require shorter rests after turning back.

Of course, with him being at such a small size, it makes travelling together simple from keeping him under a robe to shade him from the sun and his light weight. When shopping at local markets, he’ll take advantage of merchants fawning over how cute he is, giving you discounts on your produce, without being aware that he’s a blood-sucking vampire spawn under that white fluff.

“I do wish they gave us something more savoury and juicy for free” grumbling to himself.

“And miss out on all the other goods we get?”

“Hmmm…fair enough, but don’t be surprised if ask for extra tonight” responding with a smirk.

He would adore all the attention you give him in this form, from soft pets on his head to just relaxing with you at such a small size. At Wither’s reunion party, he would show it off to others about it any chance he gets, as his special party trick, beaming the whole way through. Although he would have to deal with the hangover afterwards from shifting constantly the next morning.

Additionally, if you can fly, whether that is by being a druid who can wild shape, to a draconic sorcerer who has gained their wings, you both have fun flying around together at night.

**Ascended Astarion**

For A!Astarion, transforming into a bat is as easy as a wizard casting a cantrip, simple and quick with no downsides.

A!Astarion wouldn’t be one to showcase his ability to shift into a bat at his grand masquerade parties, mainly for fear of being seen as a weak simple creature. Although he would use it to stealthily eves drop on others from the cover of the shadows.

After he’s fed you enough of his blood, if you are his spawn, he’ll teach you how to turn into a bat. In your bat form, he’ll fuss over you more, being more protective of you in this form, as if your body is a prized porcelain vase. Some of the servants just presume you're another bat he’s caring for out of the thousands in the palace.

Carrying you around in his shirt pocket to always gaze at you, whether he’s signing contracts to talking with nobles from other cities, he would be their watching over you, closer to his undead heart than ever before.

Eventually, after a while, he would teach you how to fully fly and would only allow you to fly out at night, only if he was there to keep watch over you. Whilst transformed into your bat forms, he would develop the habits of bats from trying to constantly groom your coat, by cleaning each other’s fur, despite your protests at times and sharing food with you by regurgitating blood as a gift to you.

Compared to the rare moments he is the one in bat form, he would only allow you to pet him, usually in private away from prying eyes, insisting that he has a reputation to uphold.

“Pet, I am all for you adoring me, but we mustn't tell others of this, I have an image to uphold after all”.

He would also experiment with applying some elements of his bat form to his humanoid form, such as shifting his arms to be bat wings, usually as an intimidation tactic, or to show off during his extravagant ball dance parties with you, by lifting you into the air with him.

When you carry him around in his bat form, he would try to nip you more often, unprompted over any small inconvenience.

Not paying full attention to him? Bite,

Talking to someone other than him? Bite,

Just bored with nothing else to do? Bite.

But if you attempt the same thing to him when you're in bat form? He would laugh, calling you a “Cheeky little pup”.

However, if you keep trying to nip him, he will eventually gently order you to stop and ensure he’ll get his payback later in the day, still being petty about it.

#astarion x tav #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #astarion x dark urge #bg3 #batstarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion headcanons #headcanons #was the yelling “BAT” before transforming from WWDITS?#Yes yes it was #I might start working on some long fics soon #a bit of domestic fluff with my oc tav/durge

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brabblesblog · 9 months

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Ch 2: Whither is thy beloved turned aside?

Astarion has ascended, and she has stayed with him. Life in the Crimson Palace isn’t as idyllic as it seems. Is there a chance for their relationship to go back to how it was? Or is it too late for the Ascendant and his consort?

This series is about Ban, my Tav, and the Vampire Ascendant. Will be angst and smut, with sprinkles of fluff.

This fic is a softer take on Ascendant!Astarion and of the changes he undergoes after the rite. Can Ban handle the change, and if a chance came, would she choose to run? And can the Ascendant win her back in time? Inspired by the concept of vampire wives and that IGN interview with Larian that discussed the ascension.

Professionally edited by @editing-by-night

The invitation to the Withers’ party arrives at the Crimson Palace during a ball. Astarion allows her to go, with some caveats. Angst and smut.

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

The invitation could not have come at a worse time for Astarion. They read it after the party, as the last of the guests prepared to depart.

He glanced at Ban, who was still staring at the letter. She looked a little lost, and he immediately knew she wished to go. If it had been up to him, the letter would have been tossed into the fireplace immediately. Seeing them, his old friends, would be an unwelcome reminder of who he’d been. He knew they preferred that Astarion: weak, someone who acquiesced to their wishes - with snide words, perhaps, but nary a protest. They had all slowly stopped talking to him after the rite. Not that he cared, he reminded himself; he needed no one other than his consort.

“So.” He broke the silence, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his throne. She was perched on his lap, still staring at the parchment, as if she hadn't heard him. He hated being ignored. Especially by her.

His hand slid down to grip her muscled thigh, squeezing a little harder than he normally would, aiming to draw her attention back to him. Ban’s eyes flicked up in surprise, then settled back into that detached expression she usually wore when talking to him in the presence of others.

“Yes, my lord?” she said mechanically. There were still some guests mingling in the ballroom, so she maintained the decorum befitting the Ascendant’s consort.

“If you wish to go to the reunion, pet…” he said, weighing it even as he spoke. He’d let her go. As much as he disliked the idea, she’d probably be delighted. But there was no way he'd let her out of his sight, especially not across that sort of distance. And especially not around the people who knew him before - people who had less than stellar opinions about his improved self.

“I would be glad to accompany you,” he drawled, masking the amount of time it actually took for him to decide. He stretched his legs as he spoke, as if it was a trivial matter and he’d decided on a whim.

He knew she exchanged letters with them, and it had never bothered him before. It did well to give her entertainment in between their work and overseeing the renovation of the palace. None of them had paid her a visit, however, and he found himself glad of it. Gods forbid they came and tracked mud on his carpets, touched his furniture with grubby hands, or worse - spewed supercilious, self-righteous drivel.

Ban put the parchment down. She was dressed in a tight dress with thigh slits that went up all the way to her hips, revealing the long, hard planes of her thighs. Astarion had chosen it, of course. It reminded him of the one she used to wear, the one that was given to them by Umberlee’s priestesses. His hand moved higher, rucking the dress up several inches, letting his greedy lust take over momentarily.

“We can go, pet, if you’ll let me have a little more than I usually get tonight,” he purred.

Ban nodded. Of course he’d ask for something in return. But this opportunity was far too important to pass up, especially after Gale’s most recent letter.

I may have come across some information that might be useful to you, he’d written. I shall look into it further and will update you soon.

“What… more… would you want to have?” she asked. Her pulse picked up slightly in apprehension, but also arousal. He could ask for anything, really, and if she were to deny him or push him too far, she worried it might finally be when he chose to compel her. And yet her body still responded to his words, to the mere idea of what he might ask for tonight. Still her beloved, even as they stood in the ruins of what they had built.

“I’ll let you know when we’re there.” He gave her haunch a light slap, indicating she should stand. She did, and he headed into the thinning crowd to see off the last of the guests.

She watched him go, his sharp figure cutting across the ballroom gracefully. As was their protocol during events like these, she headed for the doors, seeing the guests out and thanking them as they slowly ambled out of the palace. Her face felt tight, her smile too stiff. No one noticed. To them, she was simply the Ascendant’s plaything. No one was aware of exactly how much she contributed to his endeavors - just the way Astarion preferred it.

Before long, the ballroom was empty, and Ban headed back to their shared bedroom. The moment she opened the door he was upon her, his clothing already discarded on the floor. He growled as he pushed her against the wall.

“I have been wanting, my love. Waiting all night. I wanted to take you right in front of everyone,” he hissed against her ear, hands greedily grabbing every square inch of bare skin he could reach.

Ban arched her neck, moaning when he spoke. It was well-rehearsed and well-executed, and he usually bought it - or at least found it sufficient. Tonight, however, he did not. He drew back, arms on either side of her face, caging her against the wall.

The eyes boring into hers were as hungry and feral as ever, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. His erection stood proudly out from his abdomen, but he made no move just yet.

Ban eyed him warily, tonight’s discussion on her mind. She braced herself. “What did you want then, Astarion?”

As she said this, she slowly began to move to her knees. It was a pretty good guess; he did seem to like her in that position, to remind her who exactly was in charge. But she immediately realized it couldn’t be this. This was… normal, and he had asked for more.

Astarion’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, helping her back up. He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “Not that.”

Instead, he pressed closer. When he cupped her cheek, it was surprisingly, achingly tender. He pursed his lips, a small moment of uncertainty passing over his features.

“Love me,” he said, and it was a challenge. “You have not done that in so long, my treasure. Love me.”

It was one of those rare moments when he acknowledged that things had changed. She didn’t answer, but neither did she flinch. And he took that as his cue.

Hot, searing lips met Ban’s, yet another reminder that he was different. His free hand took hers and placed it flush over his heart. In the wilds, his slow, undead heartbeat had been a source of comfort to her; she had lain against it, listening to it night after night. Now it pounded and raced, something it had been incapable of before. She fought down the urge to draw her hand back.

“You haven’t done that in ages,” Astarion whispered as he broke the kiss. For a split second, he looked at her with desperate, longing eyes, but she missed it, her own eyes closed. “You haven’t listened to my heart, haven’t felt it beat for you. You used to,” he hissed, and there was anger there.

Did she prefer it when it was slow and abnormal? Did she prefer it to this one - strong, racing, living? It hurt him to think about it. Gods, it hurt him to think of before. The hand on her cheek tightened for the briefest moment, but he mastered himself. No.

“I need it again, Ban. If only for tonight.”

The words were a plea. Laced with demand, yes, but a plea nonetheless. His voice threatened to crack at the end of his sentence.

Ban exhaled roughly at his words. She was torn; a part of her wanted him to know exactly how to make her love him the way she used to. The other, larger part of her merely wished to pretend and get it over with.

“I love you,” she countered, “always have. Forevermore will.”

And that was the truth; for however changed and twisted he’d become, she would always harbor feelings for him.

Astarion wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. It was a far cry from the time they’d slept together in the clearing, when he had hopped into her arms. He carried her to the four-poster bed effortlessly, setting her down on her back. He climbed over her, kissing his way up from her abdomen to her throat.

“You do?” the Ascendant said quietly. Inside, he was pained; he knew this to be largely true, but that resignation was there. That distance. Part of him wondered if that was the actual price of ascension.

Part of him thought that had he known, he would have refused it.

He kissed her throat, hiding his face. He let a growl escape him, let his hands grab her wrists and pin them above her head. He was not, would not, be weak. He wasn’t that mewling cur. Not anymore.

He had ascended. Now he must pay the price.

He brought a hand down to cup her breast. She whimpered when he gripped her wrists a little too tightly, and he instantly eased his grasp, sensing her discomfort. He lifted his head from her neck to watch her face. She had her eyes squeezed shut, face turned to the side to give him access to her throat. It was as if she was in the act of turning away from him.

How pathetic, he thought. I’m the king of my own little kingdom, and I feel as if I have lost everything.

But the Ascendant refused to let these thoughts rule his deeds. Vulnerability was something he had cleansed from himself. He released her wrists, his hands deftly undoing her dress. She shifted to help him strip it off of her.

As they finished, she finally spoke up.

“Yes, I do,” she said carefully, her face guarded and neutral. “I have loved you from the day I first laid eyes on you.”

And what a stupid godsdamned idea that had been.

Astarion wanted to push her, to force her to admit that the love they shared had been changed. By her. Because she wouldn't accept what he was. Because everything he’d given her - riches, power, sex - wasn't enough. Because she wanted the one thing he could not provide - doing so would pave the way for the ghosts of who they used to be. So he’d force them both to settle for this farce.

“And I love you, my dearest consort,” he said thickly, letting it go. He crawled his way back to her, settling his head between her legs. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling her muscles tighten under his lips.

“I am nothing without you,” he whispered, and they both knew it to be painfully true.

He sunk his teeth into her thigh.

It wasn’t horribly painful, and Ban forced her leg to stop twitching. She watched her lord suckle at the wounds, his fingers gently making their way to her mound and finding her clit. He thumbed a soft, circular pattern he’d mastered long ago. Licking off the last of the blood, he met her gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. The sanguine hunger had been cured in the ascension, but he still craved her blood, simply because it was a part of her.

One dark, hungry look was all the warning he gave before he spread her folds and dove in, his tongue lapping needily at her core.

Ban hissed at the sudden warmth of his tongue, growing wet almost instantly. Sex may have lost most of its passion, but that didn’t mean there was none, or that it wasn’t enjoyable. Astarion was still Astarion, after all.

What Ban worried most about were his thoughts during the act. Did he still dissociate? They had been sleeping together almost every night since the rite, at his behest, but she had never dared ask. Before the rite, he’d finally been able to let her touch him, and even still it had been fraught. It was one of those topics she worried would hurt his ego and remind him of his past.

But Astarion was incredibly present; had been for some time now. He’d vowed to erase his past, and that had included the damage done by the parade of bodies he’d had to lie with. There’d been a learning curve, but it hadn’t been too difficult. Being in the moment was no longer challenging, not something he had to work at. Not when there was no longer anything to fear. He was the master now: he took what he wanted, in the time he wanted and in the manner he wished it to be.

And of course, because it was her. His Ban, the only one he’d ever allow to touch him, see him, know him this way, and she was the strongest balm of all. He knew he would be likely to relapse if they invited others to their bed - that shared event in Sharess’ Caress had proved as much - but alone with her, in his palace? Surrounded by everything that was his? It was effortless to be present in the moment.

He licked at her clit eagerly, alternating soft, feather-light touches with longer, harder laps. Then he wrapped his lips around it, letting his teeth graze her bud gently. He was rewarded with a low whimper and he chuckled darkly, satisfied. As broken as their love was, at least he knew he was still able to bring her to the heights of ecstasy. He snaked a hand down, palming his cock, grinding into his fist and the bed.

He licked her a bit more, bringing her close to peak, and then slowly slithered up her body. He met her gaze and saw a mix of lust, love, and that ever-present and all-encompassing resignation.

“Let me make love to you?” His tone was gentle and a little uncertain. He disliked the way it had slipped out of him, but found her reaction - surprise and… hope - well worth it. He figured that if he wanted her to at least pretend to truly love him tonight, then he may as well give her something to work with.

She gulped, the facade broken. “Yes, Astarion. Just like before.”

At any other time that would have enraged him, but his need to feel her love was too great tonight. He bit back a retort, watching her face as he stroked his cock a few more times before lining up and slowly sinking into her wet heat.

As she watched him slide into her, a small thought occurred to her: there’d never been a time they’d made love without something being off. The first two times they’d been together, he had been manipulating her. Their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands and even those final days before the rite had been filled with exploration, but also with worry. His ability to enjoy intimacy had still been fraught with setbacks. Every time after that had been after he’d changed. It was ironic, she mused bitterly, that the closest they’d gotten to healthy sex had been him seducing her for protection.

And then all thought was quickly chased away by the sensation of his cock burying deep inside her.

Astarion began thrusting. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Ban’s pained expression. He needed to think of her as she’d been, laughing as they made love - that genuine joy in simply being with him. He imagined her in the clearing, wincing a little as he remembered uncharitably thinking her gullible. Shifting course, he brought forth memories of their time in the Shadow-Cursed lands, when they had finally started something real and stopped having sex, but had found other ways to be intimate. When he would touch her, make her come undone, and she would look at him like the sun rose in his eyes. Those, he realized belatedly, were the happiest moments of his cursed existence.

He would give almost anything to see that again. Almost.

He rarely allowed himself to think of the past, but tonight was an exception. He’d asked her to love him again for one night, and so he indulged himself. He thrust faster, driven by his memories, trying to use his body to love her broken pieces back together; trying to give her what he couldn’t back then.

Ban noticed, saw Astarion’s eyes were closed. He was usually very visually greedy, eyes eating up her every reaction as he fucked her senseless, but tonight he seemed like his old self. His thrusts were hard, but with the intention to give, angling himself so that he hit her spot with every pass. She felt tenderness breaking through her apathy and was unable to stem the flow. She couldn’t help it; she stroked his cheek, surprised when he whimpered in response.

His eyes remained shut, but his face was less pained. “Stay with me,” he said, his tone entirely different. It was softer, more earnest. “Just like this, forevermore.”

“I will, if you stay like this too.” It wasn’t a demand, rather a plea. A prayer, one she hoped her Astarion could answer from across time and whatever distance now separated them.

They were both nearing their peak, Astarion thrusting as hard as he possibly could without hurting her. He shook his head at her words, an agonized expression on his face. In those few moments he’d stolen from the Ascendant, he wanted to grant her wish. But he knew once he came, he wouldn’t be able to.

He would have to be the Ascendant again when the dawn breaks, and the Ascendant refused to be that spawn - refused to be anything that man was. The spawn could only ever be allowed to surface in the dark of night, between silken sheets and whispered words; a secret the Ascendant could not allow her to see.

And if that broke her heart, well, the Ascendant could live with that. She’d still be here, and they could both continue the dance they knew all too well.

Ban decided to try again. It was a risk, and she feared being compelled, but if there had ever been a moment in the past six months that it could work, it would be this one.

“I would stay. If you let me be free, Astarion, I would st-”

“No!”

His eyes flew open, the moment evaporating instantly. Freedom? What? So she could run away from him? So he would be left with absolutely nothing, a wretched creature in far worse misery than he’d been in as a spawn? No. She could not be freed.

For a split second, he wished he’d made her into what he was under Cazador. But the thought was instantly swallowed by disgust and self-loathing. No. He would never.

But she couldn’t know.

Ban deflated at his outburst, the resignation returning to her eyes as she nodded. “Fine. For tonight, though, I can.”

He’d settle for that.

The Ascendant closed his eyes again, hips resuming their movement. He wanted to drown in his memories again, and so he let his mind fill with them, let his mind be caught in their current, allowing them to drag him under.

Her, laughing at some silly prank he’d pulled. Her in their tent, coming undone as his fingers touched her and his lips kissed her. Her, telling him she loved him for the first time, but not asking for anything in return.

The power of that final memory unraveled him. His climax washed over him, and the low whine that escaped his lips sounded nothing like the Ascendant. It was in that moment that his mind inadvertently reached for his creation - his bride.

They both gasped at the contact. He tried, frantically, to stem the flow of thoughts, and was mostly successful. Only one slipped through to her, the one which brought him to his peak.

He was reading a book while she rested on his chest, part of their usual nighttime routine. He looked down at her, brushing back a lock of her hair.

“You should sleep,” he said. “If we’re going to push for the nightsong tomorrow, you’ll need all your strength.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded. Tomorrow could decide the fate of the Shadow-Cursed lands, and she did need rest.

“I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Just in case things go wrong tomorrow.” Her hand splayed over his chest, and his undead heart sped up at the contact. He smiled.

“Once this is all done, darling, you’ll have eternity with me. I promise you that. As for tomorrow, we’ll be fine. I've got you,” he assured her lightly, miming shooting his twin crossbows.

Ban laughed, and her next words came forth unbidden.

“I love you, Astarion. You don’t ever have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”

The memory washed over Ban and she felt the wild, intense surprise, the joy he’d felt at her words. The strength of his remembered elation stole her breath, and she stared at Astarion in shock. When the alien presence of his mind had entered hers, she’d thought he was finally going to bend her to his will. She had been prepared to fight. Instead, she’d seen this memory, one she had thought rejected by him.

Was he thinking about that? Was that on his mind as he came?

Astarion jerked back quickly, feeling threatened by this sudden, unwanted vulnerability, and much like a cornered animal, his only recourse was to lash out.

“How dare you,” he hissed. “You ask for freedom, but invade my mind. Look at me.”

He grabbed her by the jaw, turning her to face him. He was aware that it had been his mind that had reached out for hers; she didn’t even know such a thing was possible. But his need to never show weakness was too great. Indignation won out; he took umbrage at this evidence that she could coax that sort of softness from him still, that even the Ascendant could be swayed by her love.

”You will never be free. You understand? Everyone - everything you need is here. In. This. Palace.” He let go of her, his chest heaving. Tears threatened to prick his eyes but he refused to consider why, holding them back by sheer force of will.

“You’ve done as I asked. We will go to the reunion. And then you’ll see,” he sneered, “exactly how pathetic the past was, compared to now.”

With those venomous words, he turned away from her. He missed the determined gleam in her eye, the one that he used to find so vexing and yet so alluring, the one that had never failed to charm him.

Later that night, whilst the Ascendant was in trance, his creation began to prepare a bag. She packed her old armor and weapons from their adventure. In the morning, she would say that she was giving them to Karlach for her battles in Avernus.

And he would believe it, because he’d forgotten her strength, forgotten the stubborn determination that had lured him to her in the first place. He’d believe it because he would be there, watching her. Because he, in his insistence on keeping her a caged bird, had forgotten what she was capable of.

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lirotation · 10 months

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Jaheira said to Tav at the reunion party, "Well, now. You can make yourself presentable, when you have a mind to." It inspired this headcanon:

My Tav is a nerd who has no sense of fashion, and Astarion insisted on dress to impress for the night. So he gifted her a dress, and became her stylist extraordinaire earlier that day.

Astarion X Amaara(my wizard Tav) fluff

As Amaara emerged dressed in casual leggings and a tank, Astarion arched an eyebrow. "Attending the reunion like that, my dear? ''

Amaara glanced down at her outfit in surprise. "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, nothing. You look lovely, and you would still look lovely covered in intellect devourer’s gray matter," Astarion tutted, casting his gaze critically over her outfit.

Amaara chuckled. "Well, I've come a long way from dressing like my elderly professors, believe me." She looked further at her wardrobe, a bit self-consciously. "But you're right - I could use an expert's guidance. So…help me pick something that looks the best, please.”

He eyed her wardrobe wearily, "Fashion falls low on your list of priorities, it’s obvious. Personally, I think you look your best wearing nothing, but alas, that’s reserved for my eyes only.“ He turned to open the seldom-used closet in the corner of their inn room, “I have just the thing in line with the grandeur I intend us to exude this evening."

“This," he declared, holding up a flowing dress in her favorite color, "is far more suitable for the occasion."

Amaara was surprised, “Wow, when did you…”

“I had it commissioned right after receiving Wither’s invitation. I do know your size most intimately, my dear.”

After she put on the dress, Astarion guided Amaara to the vanity table, an array of ornate hairpins and brushes laid out before the gilt-edged mirror. As he stood behind her and ran his fingers through her dark tresses, only her reflection gazed back - his own form conspicuously absent.

Amaara watched the mirror with widening eyes as the hairpins began lifting and gliding through the air, seemingly of their own volition to twist back intricately piled locks and spiraling curls framing her face.

She couldn’t help but giggled, “My hair decided to style itself! Now that’s a dream come true.”

A grin tugged at Astarion's lips as Amaara's peals of laughter filled the room. “Yes yes. Now, sit still, lest your hair decide to leave your scalp altogether.”

Astarion deftly dressed the unmanageable hair into an elegant, braided updo.

With a flourish, he placed the final pin.

His voice purred low at her ear. “There now...a vision to launch a thousand torrid dreams. None shall have eyes for another, once you walk through the portal on my arm tonight."

She turned to look at him, laughter subdued, expression soft. “Thank you, my love...no one’s pampered me so in long years.”

He brushed a loose curl back, voice sincere. "A small gesture of appreciation for the happiness you’ve gifted me these past six months," he paused, leaned in closer, and confessed in almost a whisper, “Joy profound enough to counterbalance two centuries of misery.”

#bg3 fanart #astarion #astarion fanart #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanart #astarion x female tav #astarion fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #artstarion #baldurs gate 3 #clip studio paint #procreate #I hail from Silverymoon #my tav #amaara ashvale

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scuttlingcrab · 7 months

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The Devil's Archive

Behold! All the Raphael (and now Minthara) fiction I've written so far. You can find me on AO3 too!

I think of each story as a writing exercise and opportunity to grow, so I feel (and hope!) my pieces have gotten better since the initial fic.

I am always open to receiving Raphael & Minthara prompts. The day I stop writing about them both will be a sad day indeed, and I don't intend on that happening any time soon.

In regards to the types of prompts:

I'll take anything focused on Raphael & Minthara. I haven't done any NSFW or Haarlep prompts yet, BUT I am always open to receiving them! It might take a while to churn those out, but I love devouring them and will try my best.

Miscellaneous

The Stranger

Bored at a party, Raphael seeks a delicious new soul.

A Night at the Symphony

Raphael goes to the symphony to check in on a client.

Too Close for Comfort

What happens when Tav gets a little too close to the devil?

No Time for Love

Don't wish Raphael a Happy Valentine's Day...

Late Night Intruders

Tav thwarts an assassination attempt against Raphael during the wee hours of the morning. And from Raphael's perspective, everything is going according to plan.

A Perfect Fit

Raphael receives an unexpected gift from Tav.

Dressed to Kill

Raphael is caught off guard by his recent gift from Tav, so he decides to pay his little mouse a visit.

Hangover from Hell

Raphael wakes up with a hangover, only to find Tav sleeping on his chest. He desperately tries to make sense of the entire situation.

Dance with the Devil

Raphael attends the annual Baldur's Gate Masquerade Ball and accidentally runs into his little mouse.

Shadowy Deals

Raphael shares a drink with Tav at the Last Light Inn, hoping to entice her with a new proposition.

The Devil's Muse

Raphael gives Tav, his very favourite client, a generous gift after she signs his contract.

Fiendish Rewards

Raphael appears at Withers' party, hoping to finally collect the Crown of Karsus from Tav. However, an unexpected turn of events causes Raphael to re-think his plans.

A Devil's Lament

Raphael brings Tav to an abandoned chapel, hoping to complete one final task before he begins his conquests of the Hells.

Inferna Victoria

With the help of Tav, Raphael fights against Zariel for his seat in Avernus. Much to Raphael's dismay, the fight ends up being more difficult than he anticipated.

Trial by Fire

Tav makes a proposition for Raphael, offering to teach the Devil her craft of sewing in exchange for him relinquishing her creative ban. Raphael finds stitching a wee bit harder than he initially expected.

Only a Kiss

Raphael is fuming after Tav shows absolutely zero decorum, kissing him in the middle of an important meeting between prospective clients. How will the Devil manage?

Practice Makes Perfect

Raphael takes matters into his own hands when Tav proves to be a less than cooperative model for his latest painting. He will do anything to create a masterpiece, even if that means teasing his little mouse into submission.

Toss A Coin To Your Devil

Tav is on the brink of death after foolishly deciding to fight Auntie Ethel without much preparation. She summons Raphael as a last resort to help her finish the fight.

An Icy Reunion

After fighting Mephistopheles, Raphael finds himself trapped at the bottom of a crevasse, wounded and waiting for the end. Tav shows up unexpededly and Raphael is left wondering if his little mouse will play the role of saviour or executioner.

In the Dark of the Night

After Raphael witnesses Tav committing a gruesome murder, he begins plotting how he could use their vulnerability, and lack of memory, to his full advantage in his grander ambitions.

A Hellish Dealer

Raphael isn't only a saviour, but a proficient salesman. After coming to Tav’s rescue, again, he offers the little mouse an item, straight from his Devilish line of goods, that he hopes will aid her in the fights ahead.

Mortals

Mortals is a collection of short stories about Raphael, where he meets various mortals who have impacted him someway or another throughout his existence, loosely tying into the main plot of Baldur's Gate 3. Each story is stand-alone.

The Curse of Lady Luck

Raphael calls upon his old friend, a priest, who he reluctantly made a deal with many years ago.

A Warlock is Born

Korrilla summons Raphael to aid her in a fight at the Devil’s Fee. Raphael recruits a new warlock to his cause.

A Warlock's Sacrifice

Raphael seeks the aid of his prized warlock after he finds an intruder has broken into his House of Hope. Raphael confronts Tav in the aftermath of combat.

The Great Hunt

In Search of a Hammer

Raphael learns from Korrilla that Tav foolishly sold the Orphic Hammer in an attempt to earn some last minute gold. Raphael hunts down the Hammer before his dreams are destroyed forever.

An Absolute Waste of Time

Raphael is so full of rage and malice he is about to burn down the entire Sword Coast before the Mind Flayers even arrive. In this second instalment, Raphael tears through Baldur's Gate, from the Circus of the Last days to the Blushing Mermaid, trying to locate the Orphic Hammer.

Nightwarden Minthara

A collection of fics about my favourite companion.

Badges of Honour

After another successful fight against the Absolute, Minthara and Jaheira cosy up by the campfire, exchanging stories about their various scars.

Lessons from the Nightwarden

Tensions quickly rise when Minthara is forced to teach a group of aspiring Paladins a harsh lesson.

To the Hells and Back

Night Terrors

Defeating the Elder Brain was supposed to be triumphant, but it was the day Minthara’s world spun out of control. After watching Karlach burn before her eyes, Minthara swore an oath of vengeance against the Archdevil Zariel. She would not rest until she personally smited that vile infernal creature into oblivion. However, navigating the Hells is by no means an easy task, and Minthara is soon forced to make an unexpected alliance if she is to get there in one piece.

#writing #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #bg3 #fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael #raphael bg3 x reader #raphael x tav #minthara #minthara baenre #nightwarden minthara

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ellarazen · 10 months

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Together once again

Chosen Family prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion/GN!Tav (You)

Wordcount: Approximately 600 words.

~~~

It’s been a while since your last reunion with everyone in Withers’ party. Karlach and Wyll finally got out of Avernus for good after finding Zariel’s secret forge, but that’s a story for another time.

You all reunited again for Christmas. Withers didn’t even have to host the event this time. Shadowheart insisted we all gathered at her new cozy cottage with her parents and the many, many animals she adopted.

When you arrive with Astarion, Karlach is already running up. “Soldier, you made it!”

She sweeps you off the ground as she announces, “Gods, I missed you”. You reply “Me too Karlach, I still can’t believe you are here”

Emotionally she declares, “Oh, I have to pinch myself sometimes, so I don’t think this is all a dream”

It’s a dream really, to be reunited with everyone, seeing Halsin try to fit himself under the kitchen roof to help Gale prepare the main course, even though the mage assured he had “all under control”.

Wyll was more than happy to share recent stories of adventures in Faerun and brought some exquisite wine, which Astarion still complained about.

Lae’zel joined but not in full flesh. The battle against Vlakith was not an easy feat, but she seemed quite happy to see us once again, even if not in an ideal form.

The warmest smile grows on your face, seeing them all together and well again.

Later on, you step outside the cottage to catch some fresh air, Halsin is sitting on the ground in awe surrounded by ducks. Karlach is making snow angels on the ground.

Turning your head just slightly, you see Astarion, who looks very moved by everything in a contained manner.

You take his hand to hold it in yours, proposing, “Penny for your thoughts?”

He quickly composes himself by pretending indignation. “A penny? Darling, you wound me”

You quickly imitate your partner’s mannerisms to jest a bit “Oh, my love, you know your thoughts are worth all the gold and treasures all Faerun, but you would have forgotten it way before the time I become the richest person in this land”

He plays along “How dare you? you’re lucky you are cute”

Lightheartedly, you reply, “I could say the same to you, but really, are you okay?”

Astarion looks at you lovingly and shares, “I am, I just feel so…blessed, how ironic I had to suffer 200 years to feel this. I’m exhilarated and frustrated at the same time…but we can explore this topic another time. I am truly glad to be here with you, among friends again. It’s a change from the usual bandits we always seem to find”

You hug your partner and as he tenderly returns it; It reminds you of your timid first hug. Astarion wasn’t used to affection in this way, but now he welcomes your embrace naturally. Gratitude fills your chest thinking about the trust he developed in your bond. You whisper, “I love you. You know you can tell me anything you wish, right?”

He felt content knowing you cared and replied, “I know, I just don’t want to spend a second in the past, not when you are here with me…and of course our dear friends awaiting us inside”

The pale elf pulls back slowly and suggests, “Now dear, shall we go inside again? The air is rather chill out here and as much as I love taking care of you, I don’t want you getting another cold”

“Of course darling, wherever you need me to be”

#astarion x reader #bg3holidayfluffle23 #bg3 fanfic #tav x astarion #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion fanfic

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roguerambles · 2 months

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Cerenna and Halsin definitely hooked up with the Lord of Song at Withers’s reunion party—

#bg3 #baldur's gate iii #halsin silverbough #halsin #bg3 tav #bg3 milil #halsin x tav

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papermagnolias969 · 10 months

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happy reunions

Astarion x f!Reader x Halsin

Rating: Mature

plotless epilogue smut.

Halsin gets wind of you and Astarion disappearing at Withers' party. But sharing is caring, after all. Lots of oral sex. (f! receiving)

Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Plotless smut, threesome, cunnilingus, reader has female bits, fingering, oral (female receiving), nudity

“Sshh. Not a sound, darling.”

Astarion’s whisper drives another shudder down your spine as you cling onto the stack of crates beneath you for dear life. The elf is knelt before you, one hand pressed flat on your stomach, pinning you down, the other relentlessly working your cunt.

Swimming in a haze of lust and alcohol, you find yourself naked but for your smock, hoisted all the way up, while Astarion hasn’t even taken his doublet off before kneeling down before you.

The reunion party has been lovely and all, but your vampire lover got bored of playing five-finger-fillet by himself soon enough. And you didn’t need much convincing to follow him to the secluded woodshed for a little… intermezzo. You were only hoping the others wouldn’t catch on.

His index and middle finger are buried within you, crooked just right to touch that spot that sends sparks of pleasure through your body, while his thumb traces gentle circles around your clit. With every small movement, you feel heat and pleasure rising, making it ever harder to keep quiet. Astarion’s eyes are locked on your face like magnets, and he revels in each desperate moan he can coax from you. “So wet for me,” he croons, “and we haven’t even started.”

You feel his soft lips on your thigh and then the pleasant sting of fangs grazing your skin. “Gods, I could just eat you up.”

Astarion’s fingers drop their pace suddenly, cruelly, and you’re about to protest, but you only make it to “Astar-...” before you feel his cool breath against your soaking wet folds and your mind goes blank again.

“Yes, my sweet?” Astarion purrs innocently, his words vibrating deliciously against your swollen centre. And before you can respond, he wraps his soft mouth around your clit and starts sucking, sending shockwaves through your body. You blink through the haze to look at him. Gods, he’s beautiful; his face buried between your thighs, pupils blown wide from desire and feverishly worshipping your cunt. Your stifled moans only fuel him, and he quickly pushes his fingers back into you, eager to pleasure you more, more, more.

Waves of pleasure roll through your body as he expertly licks your desperate cunt, threatening to send you over the edge, and you hear your own voice whining and pleading, Astarion’s name like a prayer on your lips, until suddenly, a large silhouette appears in the doorway, casting a shadow over the both of you. Astarion pauses yet again.

“My apologies,” you hear Halsin’s voice. “I… hope I’m not interrupting.”

Halsin’s eyes trail shamelessly up and down your body. You must look so vulnerable, splayed across the crates, exposed and sweating, and the druid fails to hide the arousal in his voice.

Astarion looks over his shoulder, chin glistening from your essence, fingers still inside you.

“Looking for a treat, druid?” His voice is laced with wicked provocation, and he resumes his feast while looking at you, slowly teasing this time, gliding his wet tongue up and down the side of your clit, then the other.

The opportunity never presented itself when you were travelling together, but you had fantasised about having Astarion and Halsin share you. Breathing heavily, and with a brazenness owed to alcohol and arousal, you part your legs a little wider. An invitation.

Halsin doesn’t move either way. Wasn’t he just looking for you? He must have heard the sounds you made. He knew what he would stumble upon.

“I am not ashamed to admit I have thought about this,” he murmurs, clearly a few cups of wine deep himself, watching Astarion work his tongue on you. “What you would… taste like.”

Your vampire rises from his knees, placing himself beside you. He wraps one arm around you and brings the other up to his face, lazily putting his fingers in his mouth to lick them clean, answering Halsins question. “Oh, she is exquisite.”

Halsin’s eyes dart between you and your lover.

“You don’t mind sharing, Astarion?”

The look on Astarion’s face is something between amused and composed, but his voice betrays him. “Oh, I’d never keep my little treat from getting her desire.”

That’s what he wants. Astarion doesn’t generally enjoy orgies for himself, you’ve figured out, but he gets such a kick out of your arousal. Watching you tremble, moan and shudder, reduced to a writhing mess of lust, is his desire.

“Go on, darling”, Astarion coos in your ear, “Give him a kiss.”

You straighten up, and Halsin quickly closes the distance, places two fingers under your chin and draws you into a kiss that’s all tongues and drunken lust. Astarion slinks gracefully behind you, placing you between his legs, and as he begins to caress your shoulders with soft lips and fangs, the druid lavishes your mouth with hungry kisses.

His height and size are something you’re not used to, and you feel large, heavy hands on you. Halsin can wrap his hands almost entirely around your upper body, but his thumbs circle your pert nipples tenderly. You feel Astarion’s erection pushing against you, but as you reach around to touch him, he catches your wrist.

“Ah-ah-ah. Eyes forward. Show our friend what a sweet pet you are.”

Thick fingers press into your thighs, pushing you down on the crate, and Halsin falls to his knees before you. With a moan, he brings down one hand to spread your slickened lips and plunges his tongue inside you. You were close before and Halsin is as relentless as Astarion was. He alternates effortlessly between prodding at your swollen clit and tongue-fucking your hole, stopping only to take your whole cunt in his mouth and sucking until he hears you cry his name. His thumb finds its way into you, thick enough to stretch you out, and you start seeing stars. As you convulse under Halsin’s assault, getting dangerously close to climax, Astarion’s hands slide over your body, caressing your breasts, your stomach, teasing your nipples, while he croons into your ear. “That’s it darling… Come on his tongue for me…”

His words are too much. The pressure in your lower body releases at once and tingling heat spreads through you, your hips buck as you scream Halsin’s name, over and over, the druid’s mouth still firmly between your shivering thighs so he can lap up every drop, until you collapse into Astarion’s arms. Under laboured breaths, you blink at your vampire, and on his face, you see pure ecstasy. Mouth agape and eyes half-closed, he’s enjoying this almost as much as you are…

potentially tbc

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