The Loving Master series - #BG3 FanFic Review
Review by Apollo (@apollo-stories)
Good timezone my friends, I am happy to present another constellation in the bright sky of fanfiction: The Loving Master series by calqmity on AO3.
A note from the BG3 Fic Reviews team: As always, mind the tags, and for this wonderfully dark work in particular, as it includes numerous controversial and dark themes. These include NSFW; dead dove; necrophilia; non-con elements; and abusive relationships; among others. Our review is continued below the fold due to the heavy nature of the content in this particular series.
Virtual photography by @xandirge.
The series is comprised of three separate works exploring the dark desires of our favourite bloodsucker Ascended Astarion. It starts with The Doll Collector, a fantastic title in and of itself with no small amount of sinister foreshadowing.
In this story there is a constant and ominous theme of dehumanisation as well as an exploration of Astarion’s relationship with death. The author details Ascended Astarion’s recently devised methods of collecting his new vampire spawn cohort, as well as the addiction he develops in controlling their lifeless bodies. (Reminder: mind the tags!)
Astarion is obsessively controlling, and takes great delight in stripping any sort of independence or autonomy from his spawn that they may have once enjoyed in their former lives. It is a dark work, and there is no healing to be found here. This is an excellently constructed examination of Ascended Astarion’s dark mind and how he fulfills his most toxic needs as his spawn become his latest possessions to play with at his leisure.
The Unbearable Pressure, the author's second work in the series, is no different to its predecessor in its exploration of Ascended Astarion's growing darkness and cruelty. This work focuses more on on his relationship with his most disobedient spawn, Blaze, and his efforts to break her and ensure her obedience.
The theme of dehumanisation and dollification gets more pronounced the further we read. Astarion wants to control every single part of his spawn. And even despite the obvious sadism of his actions, Astarion genuinely believes he is doing his spawn and kindly, and grapples to understand why his spawn are not more grateful for his 'assistance' and what he considered his dedicated 'care'. The author has expressed Astarion's delusion of benevolence well, as our narrator is wonderfully unreliable.
Haunted By Your Touch, Aching For Your Love is our third and final work in the series, and quite possibly my favourite of the three! (I would call it a crowd pleaser, but that requires that the crowd in question likes breaking characters down and making them suffer oh so deliciously.)
The cycle of abuse and the affection for one’s captor can be difficult to write in fiction. There is a common mistake of stepping back from the actions and becoming more clinical in order to convey why the cycle is happening and why it continues, and, in so doing, create a disconnect between the readers and the characters. This work sees that tripping point coming from miles away and does cartwheels over it.
We are deep in Astarion’s mind and psyche in this work as his delusions and twisted perspective have completely erased any distinction between reality and his wicked desires. It is left to the keen eye of the reader to pick up on the subtle hints and evidence of his delusions, which are expertly described by the author via the reactions are the other characters that suffer Astarion's whims and mistreatment.
The Loving Master, as a whole, is a wonderful exploration into dark themes and abusive relationships. Astarion’s character is portrayed consistently through the entire series using beautiful metaphors that I could hear Astarion himself repeating in his own voice. And beyond our lead antagonist, the author's original characters are well-written and developed, becoming well-established personalities in their own right. Each one has their own clear motivations and responds to Astarion differently, adding to the depth of the overall narrative with every line. These stories are also structurally sound, as you can look forward to a healthy mix of short and long paragraphs and sentence structures that makes the story easy to read and easy to enjoy.
Mind the tags on AO3, as The Loving Master does not shy away from NSFW elements and very heavy themes.
Enjoy your dove, but be aware. It is very, very dead.
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We have included a snippet of The Doll Collector below for your enjoyment, as well as the author's tags as they are currently listed on AO3 for this particular work.
The Doll Collector
"One more bite, is all it would take."
And now his beautifully pliant Lydia laid underneath him, fully submitted to his one desire: for her to become his. Her jet black hair framed her round, delicate face. Through her long, black eyelashes, her dark purple eyes stared up at him, wide and vulnerable. The indigo moonlight skin that bruised wonderfully under the force of his fingers was soft and warm to the touch.
"Be gentle," her quiet voice trembled.
There was nothing gentle about forging an undead monster out of an innocent, precious soul—his perfectly obedient, beautiful little monster, yet a monster nonetheless—but he could pretend, for just a moment.
He brought her wrist up to his mouth, laying a feather light kiss on top of the flesh, eating the garnish before digging into the main course. He cradled it in his hands before sinking his teeth in. Her quick yelp from the sudden pain sent a raging, hot inferno through his abdomen, encouraged by the red delicacy on his tastebuds.
Eventually he forced himself to pull away, letting the bloodied, shaking hand fall from his grasp. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her head, trapping his prey.
"You have given me everything...thank you." His words came out breathy and in between sighs of pleasure. The taste of her blood lingered on his lips, but it wasn't enough. He needed every last drop. While the ritual had rid him of the hunger caused by his supernatural curse, it had been replaced with a new hunger: to take, to take, and to take, from everyone around him. He wanted it all.
She look terrified out of her mind about what was about to happen, her eyes glancing at the liquid ruby dripping down his chin. In this moment, she looked like a porcelain doll. Her plump lips and flushed cheeks had a warm glow cast on them from the candle light in the tavern room. But when his fangs pierced her neck, she did not crack—only screamed. It was like biting into the plumpest, ripest fruit in the orchard, and her cries of pain were the beautiful notes of the birds' song high above in the sky.
