#bg3 fic

[infernal-chronicles]

Just writer things

My drafts are so far ahead I'm writing the Underdark section. Me: *Drafting the Omeluum bit with the potion for him to assess the worm to be specific. Trying to understand the sensory of the potion as it's explained for passing the con check.*

My Brain: mmmmm thick like Delsym

Me: *actually gags*

[cep-stories]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged this week by @optimisticgrey (post here), @deianestormborn (post here), and @galacticsparkles (post here).

Well, I am officially on a break from posting to AO3 until my beta is settled in Germany…and honestly likely until I finish my current fic. That’s still a bit in the air at the moment. Posting as you go has its ups and downs, which I am still weighing.

But the WIP must go on! Until I’m ready to get back to posting on AO3, my Wednesday WIPs will follow my chapters in order.

And now…onward to the WIP!

Ches 1488 DR

Baldur’s Gate

“I apologize for any harm my book has caused,” Korvala says in a calm and controlled manner.

Niri, unmoved by the lackluster apology, takes out her notebook and pencil. “The creature the book transformed into—what is it?”

“It’s called a gingwatzim,” Korvala says. “A shapeshifter, to put it simply.”

“What was your reason for creating and selling shape shifting books?”

Korvala’s face sets into an expressionless stare. “I did not create the books.”

“Who did?”

A slight twitch of her lips breaks Korvala’s stony exterior. “Our leader did.”

“I was under the impression that was you.”

Bright but otherwise expressionless eyes stare at Niri.

Niri’s nostrils flare. “And where is your leader?”

Once again, Korvala blinks blankly at them. Then, she turns on her heel, throws open a trap door hidden beneath a rug, and descends. When she reappears she holds a small chest. It clunks onto the desk and Korvala gestures for Niri to open it. Orben and Gale peer around her shoulders as the latch lifts.

Inside lies a mass wrapped in black silk atop a small pile of gold pieces. Niri nods to Orben who carefully unwraps the shroud. He immediately recoils.

It is a heart.

[Link to fic series]

Boop!

@lolthwoven @glitterandmoondustofficial @emmyandthetieflings @drow-drow-drow @mysticxmoonlight @kt-catt @wyfyoyo @chaushaus @unovafarm @fireflyeyes @itspastmidnight @tynithia @bladesingerlily @thesanguinesonnet @87000beesinapersonsuit @grandninjamasterren @elandra-beltharys @cinder-rellish181 @laurelli-fiction

[bladesingerlily]

These are a few of my favorite things!

Also..I was going to photoshop in glasses on my cat who is the real expert of fan fic…but the mood board prompt is the only graphic arts project I can deal with today!

There seems to be a general malaise skulking about my fandom friends! AI bots spamming AO3…weird lil’ anons bullying and harassing blogs, the broader world wide bullshit! So.. I’m feeling skippy and full of toxic adjacent positivity, I’m going to take Tuesdays to talk about the wonderful shit I see in the BG3 fandom, maybe other places, and just be annoyingly optimistic.

This is Mische…he is a fan fic expert. I am not. So I’m letting him take it from here!

Today’s theme is elegant gender OC presentations….

In no particular order…

@sanguinescoven

Her OC Bernadette is a level zero employee of Bath and Body Works! Her story is gothic horror meets modern rom com with and incredibly heavy dose of monster f*cking…I love that Bernadette conforms to absolutely no “fantasy girl” tropes. This is a laugh/cry/OMG read every time!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@rdekarios

I’m sure everyone who has touched VP that isn’t console bound knows her mod snapshots, her pose packs, and he collabs with other creators, but I don’t see enough about her Tav, Seraphina…

Phina never becomes a cliche. She is smart. She is grounded. She wants nothing to do with anything that goes on during canon events and it’s as close to cozy modern genre fic as I have seen anywhere. I smile every time I see Phina.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@tynithia

Literally no one has more fantastic She-OCs in the fandom!

Ellandra, Morena (not technically an OC, but just roll with it), and Saera all span generations of the Dekarios clan epic and all of them are fully realized, none fall into “woman shoved into traditionally male role” and all of them are rendered in all the roles women navigate, wife, mother, unwitting hero, step mother, ex girlfriend…and all the stories are equal parts solid lore, romantic fun, and occasionally straight up telenovella mellow drama! Always fun. Always hilarious!

Her current fic, dedicated to Morena is a banger. Start there. You won’t regret it!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

@missfortunetherogue

Okay, so this one is me telling on myself. I was prepared to roll me eyes reading their stories, the trope pile here is really high!

But damned if the writing isn’t masterful! Sasha, Miss Fortune, is wonderfully complex, trauma informed but not trauma defined. Their gender is perfectly integrated into their story without it being telegraphed at every moment. It is beautiful, layered, sophisticated story telling and my favorite Astarion romance. The intimacy is earned. They are both wonderful and awful to each other. The relationship stutters and gasps for air sometimes and then the romatic payoff slaps you right in the face.

I’m quite fond of their Regency story, but everything is pretty dope. A lot of their pieces I couldn’t find AO3 links, so here’s their Master list post!

Post by @missfortunetherogue

💬 5  🔁 0  ❤️ 14 · About me · Welcome to my space Hey folx and welcome! This blog is currently dedicated primarily to Baldur's Gate 3 conten

Okay that’s a good week one. Reply if I missed your favorite for next week or reblog with your own favorite things. Everyone could use a little virtual smooch!

[partmathpartmagic]

Wyll Fix-it Ch 30!!

we're just cruisin right past the initial chapter estimate aren't we

mizora is DEFEATED but wyll seems to have a new source of magic??

his father is apologetic and wyll is angry, but is it possible generational trauma had a hand in all of this??

and the contract is over, so when oh when will reader be recovered enough to get some of those bumps and prongs inside her if you know what i mean??

[royals-sasha]

When Shadowheart was with her Isobel, they made suffering feel so sweet.

The Night Does Not Belong to God, my zine entry into @shadowheartzine.bsky.social!

Isobel Thorm has lost everything, her father, mother, lover, she is alone, forgotten by her moon maiden. Shadowheart preys on her heartbreak, and grooms her into a willing servant of Shar, slowly breaking her down, until the former Selunite welcomes the lady of loss with open arms.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/90308871

[laezussy]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

shadowheart you can't be thinking that

[starxforged]

Hi, welcome to the disaster that is my blog

To keep things short and to the point, I'm a 25-year-old aspiring digital artists digital artist and fictional writer that hopes to one day have at least one original fantasy novel series under my belt. When I'm not feeding my Elden Ring, Palworld, or Marvel Rivals addiction, I'm trying to get through my first playthrough of Baldur's Gate III. Speaking of which...

So for the last 3-5 months I've been writing a Bg3 fanfic called "Oathbreaker". It follows my oc Elora, a mute, half-elf paladin whose sworn an oath of vengeance against the cult of the Absolute.

Originally the plan was to write the fanfic first, but then i figured it'd be a lot easier, and more fun, to just turn it into a comic using photomode. Since I intend to be consistent with uploading new chapters consistently, I decided to just go ahead and create an index for each entry and other related posts to save me some time;

Oathbreaker Comics

Chapter One - Rude Awakening

Part 1

AO3 Fics

OC Lore

Fanart

Smoke Break

[murdergoreviolence]

Afterstory

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Astarion/Tav (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Tav (Baldur's Gate) Additional Tags: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Oral Sex, Vampire Ascendant Astarion (Baldur's Gate), Astarion's freaky vampire powers

Summary: Post-canon Ascended Astarion romance ending. After gaining ultimate power, Astarion should feel safe. After earning the love of his life, he should be happy. His mind plagues him so he seeks out the affection of his consort.

Read here or on AO3! Please like and comment, and maybe even rb <3

Astarion could still hear his old master's voice in his ear, so calm as he ripped into his spawn’s flesh, “You're just a scared little boy.” He could feel Cazador's hands on him, his skin tingling with the anticipation of the coming blade.

He tipped over to land on his shoulder against the wall. His sight was spinning, everything was spinning. He felt sick.

You're just a scared little boy.

Astarion shook his head sharply, as if he could knock the memories away by force, and pushed himself away from the wall. He started off down the hallway, glancing into each room anxiously as he passed by.

Where are you? He projected with his mind. The thought crept down walls, seeped through the floor, spread across the mansion like a fog.

There was no reply. Astarion grimaced as he went into the closest living room. His hands curled into tight fists. He needed her. He needed her right now! His heart was fluttering in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead. His mouth was dry and his stomach was in knots.

You're just a scared little boy.

When he reached out to her his thoughts sounded calm and sweet, Darling, come to me.

Astarion crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Still nothing. His lips pulled back into a snarl. Where was she? 

Had something happened? He imagined a thief sneaking in, happening across her, killing her. His nails dug into his arms at the thought. Astarion decided to start locking the windows and doors shut. Just in case.

But no, she couldn't be dead. He surely would have felt it happen. He hadn't changed her yet so they weren't psychically connected, but he would have at least smelled the blood.

His red eyes narrowed into slits. Was she ignoring him? Intentionally defying him?

Anger heated his chest. That ingrate, how dare she treat him with such disrespect? He had been nothing but good to her. He would never treat her how he had been treated. And this was the thanks he got?

Astarion broke apart, suddenly a swarm of scurrying white rats that spilled onto the floor. The rodents rushed down various hallways, into rooms, down the stairs. Their red eyes flashed and noses twitched as they searched the mansion for his lover, Tav.

Astarion checked the bedroom. The library. A closet. Down the hall - the hall - the hall, East West South. Searching multiple rooms simultaneously. Rats tumbling down the stairs to scour the ground floor.

He could smell her. Through a doorway and into a sitting room - the rats saw her. Astarion pulled himself together, rats swarming to the room, a wave of squeaking fur and scrabbling claws. The rats piled on top of one another, their flesh melding together, twisting, stretching hideously until they grew into Astarion's usual form, clothes and all.

He looked down at her and smiled, the earlier anger melting away. She wasn't ignoring him - she was here, right where he left her an hour before. He had come up behind her, strong hands gripping her shoulders, leaned down to smell her hair. So sweet. And then he bit her smooth neck. He had drained her until her breaths came out in weak shakes and when he pulled away her legs buckled. He caught her and laid her on the couch, stroked a lock of hair away from her forehead, then went on his way.

Astarion came to her and reached down to grab her by the wrist and pull her to sitting, “Wake up, darling.”

Tav snorted, struggling to open her eyes. Her skin looked washed out from lack of blood, matching well with Astarion's pallor. She was wearing a beautiful gown that emphasized her curves, something Astarion had picked out himself early that morning before she woke up.

Astarion smiled, flashing his sharp fangs. “My treasure,” he breathed, pulling her against his chest. She was warm in his arms, held against his torso, top of her head pressed under his jaw.

“Is something the matter?” Tav asked, her hands coming up to press softly against his chest. Her fingers spread as they slid over the blood red silk of his vest.

“Everything is alright when you're here, darling,” Astarion replied smoothly, his eyes sliding shut.

All the previous panic had eased from his mind, Tav's scent and presence surrounding him and making him feel at ease. He felt good, centered, calm.

Tav's hands drug down his chest, over his stomach, down to stroke the front of his hips and the tops of his thighs. Astarion's lips pressed into a thin line and his fingers tightened, his claws biting into her sides.

After he tamed his expression into something soft and looked down at her, Tav had a small smile on her lips, “Shall I help you feel better?”

“My, aren't you eager?” Astarion purred despite the bitter roil in his stomach.

Tav softly pressed her hand against his crotch and gazed up at him, waiting for his reply.

“Do whatever you want, my love,” Astarion said, ghosting the tips of his fingers through her hair.

Tav's smile widened and the brightness of it soothed Astarion slightly. Until she turned her eyes down to focus on his pants, anyway. Tav untied his pants and tugged them, and his underwear, a little way down his hips, enough so his cock came out into the room's cool air. Tav leaned forward, her lovely, manicured hands holding onto his hips, and pressed her full lips to his cock.

Her eyes fell closed as she opened her mouth and ran her tongue along his flaccid length, then sucked the tip into her heated mouth.

A soft breath escaped Astarion's lips at the feeling of her wet orifice. As Tav worked successfully to get him hard, that digging feeling in his belly grew.

Tav lapped at his cock, drug her tongue over the base then swirled it around the tip. She pulled him into her mouth, taking him a little deeper every time she bobbed her head.

Pleasure grew in him as she worked, building on itself, making his cold skin feel waves of heated arousal. It clashed harshly with his twisting guts, washed over the discomfort, pushed it to the edges of his mind. Soft, wet slurping sounds accompanied her movements, the lewd noises making Astarion's cock twitch against her tongue.

Tav gazed up at him through her lashes. Her eyes were half-lidded with desire, her cheeks flushed despite her lacking blood, spit-slick lips wrapped around his dick, and all at once Astarion felt a sharp lance of disgust.

There she was, degrading herself before him. Giving herself so easily to something like him, soft moans occasionally flowing out in the small space between his cock and her lips. Astarion's mouth pulled back in a grimace and he grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her back.

“What's wrong?” she asked, blinking in confusion.

“Leave me,” Astarion commanded, voice like ice. He pushed his erection back into his pants.

Tav's face danced between many expressions: uncertainty, confusion, pained rejection, a hint of frustration.

“What-”

“Get out!” Astarion yelled. He felt sick. His head was buzzing.

Tav flinched at the sudden outburst. Her lips pulled into a frown but she didn't try to speak. Instead she turned her eyes away from him, nodded, and pushed away from him to stand and walk quietly out of the room.

She stood just outside the room, gazing at him. The concern on her face made Astarion's skin crawl, “I-”

Astarion flicked his hand and the door slammed magically shut before she could finish whatever it was she was going to say.

His chest felt tight. His stomach cramped so hard that for one anxious moment he worried he would vomit the blood left in his belly onto the floor.

Astarion's skin crawled. He could feel every rough hand on his skin, every touch, every time harsh fingers dug into his flesh as he whored himself out for his master, to his master. His victims’ eyes, hazy with arousal, bored into him, his master's red eyes, full of sadistic cruelty, slid over him from head to toe. His consort’s eyes looked up at him through thick lashes.

You're just a scared little boy.

Astarion stalked over to the window and threw it open. Bright sunlight poured over him, blinded him for a moment.

The sun, the sun. That's what he needed - the beating heat of the sun on his skin, the feeling he'd gone without so long, the sensation he refused to ever lose again.

Astarion transformed into a bat and flew out into the wide, blue sky.