So Gorgeous

I don't know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I'd like to.

I used the photomode mod to take a look at Astarion's love confession scene. Normally, the camera is focused on Tav when choosing what to say.

These are the expressions Astarion is making off-screen while you are hovering over dialogue options.

The Embrace of Love and Death, Chapter 5: Playing with Knives

Chapter summary: Lae’zel puts Astarion and Miss Fortune through the paces, training them relentlessly until they learn to work together better. Things get flirtatious between the rogues as they get to know each other better, and Shadowheart puts Miss Fortune on the spot to reveal their past.

Read the full chapter on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298/chapters/166716742

Excerpt:

“It’s time for the two of you to start warming up,” the warrior commanded as soon as she noticed Miss Fortune was done eating. There was no room for bargaining or arguing in her tone. “You will go to the clearing, you will stretch every muscle, do push-ups, sit-ups, and squats to exhaustion twice, and lastly you will run until I decide to come stop you. Then, I will train you until I am satisfied that you’ve learned the lesson at hand.”

Miss Fortune could hear Astarion complaining under his breath the whole way to the clearing, and when they arrived he turned on them with a huff.

“Why don’t you just leave me at camp to watch the cook pot?” He demanded, waving his hands wildly. “Why put us through all this just to keep me on the road with you?”

“Is that what you want? To stay in camp?” They asked as they began to stretch their arms and shoulders.

“Wha—I didn’t say that,” the vampire countered, beginning his own stretches. “It’s just, wouldn’t that be easier?”

“And miss out on your witty banter and gorgeous face all day? Doesn’t sound easier to me,” Miss Fortune grinned.

“Oh, well in that case…” Astarion feigned sheepishness, brushing a curl behind his pointy ear. “Glad to see someone around here has good taste.”

“And you would know after last night, wouldn’t you? How good my taste is?” Miss Fortune dropped to the ground to begin stretching the lower half of their body. They chanced a quick glance up at the vampire and noticed an almost imperceptible shudder of ecstasy as he presumably recalled the taste of their blood. The half-elf had to look away quickly, hoping he didn’t catch sight of the hot blush razing across their cheeks.

“Aha! How delightful. Yes, you were scrumptious, my sweet. But to whom am I speaking today? Because it’s certainly not the same sad little bird who was ready to curl up and die last night.” Astarion followed suit, practically bending himself in half with seemingly no effort. Miss Fortune tried unsuccessfully not to let their eyes - or mind - drift too much at the sight. There was no denying that he had a great body, and the incredible flexibility had them feeling some type of way.

Look at this handsome lil devil!! 😈

I spent the last two weeks crocheting a Raphael doll so here he is in his insufferable smugness. He's around 9 inches/24 cm tall.

I freehanded him but I'm considering writing down the pattern... If you're interested, keep your eyes peeled for that. It's not super technical, just very long.

A very polite gentleman.

"Alone on a Friday night? Pathetic."

"Get yourself a date, loser."

Some details below the cut

The Embrace of Love and Death

Welcome to the first chapter of my fanfic, “The Embrace of Love and Death”! When rogues Astarion and Miss Fortune (OC) get abducted from Baldur’s Gate and infected with mind flayer tadpoles, they both become “conveniently lost” from their troubled homes. As they grapple with their past traumas they find companionship, healing, and eventually love and renewed purpose in each other. Will getting a mind flayer parasite inserted into their eyes wind up being the best thing that ever happened to them? This slow burn tale of romance, sex, and healing will reveal the answer to that in due time.

Prefer to read on AO3? Gotchu covered right here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298#main

Chapter 1: Fresh off the Nautiloid

The sun was beginning to set on a day so bad that calling it a nightmare would be about as euphemistic as calling a raging owlbear a hungry house cat. One moment Miss Fortune had been trailing their mark through an alley in the slums of Baldur’s Gate, and the next they were abducted into a nautiloid, strapped in a mind flayer pod with a tadpole burrowing into their brain. They’d met that green woman, rescued a cleric named Shadowheart from her mind flayer pod, fought screeching imps, and then crashed the whole damned ship into who-knows-where. They had no idea how they survived the ordeal, but the screaming pain in their head didn’t give them much hope that their luck would last.

They’d never even been outside of Baldur’s Gate before, and now they were lost in the wilderness with two strangers. They’d lost sight of the green woman after the crash, found Shadowheart outside, and met a handsome, effeminate high elf with blindingly pale skin who’d tried to slit their throat on sight. The elf’s name was Astarion, and while they’d talked him down from violence and convinced him their odds of survival were better together, the half-elf rogue resolved to keep an eye on him. Not that they could fully blame him for the attempted murder; had the roles been reversed, they probably would have done the same. But still, they much preferred their blood inside their body.

Miss Fortune couldn’t for the life of them understand why their new companions were already looking to them like some kind of leader. While they were used to people gravitating to them in more mundane settings due to their good looks and charismatic persona, those skills hardly felt useful out here. What the hells did they know about anything real? They’d have to fake it, they realized.

“Sun’s going down, and this spot looks as safe as any to set up camp,” they said with feigned confidence. The companions nodded, set down their packs. Still they looked at Miss Fortune, waiting for instructions. “Err…do either of you know how to start a fire?”

“Gods, this is hopeless!” cried Shadowheart. “Have you never camped before?! No matter, I’ve done it plenty. Watch and learn, gentlemen, because I won’t be doing this by myself every night. I’m not your camp mother.”

Shadowheart walked the others through the process of setting up camp, showed them how to catch fish from the river and impale them on sticks to cook over the fire she started. Miss Fortune stumbled over their actions, and Astarion was even more helpless - but they managed, and they had places to sleep and food to eat by the time the sun winked out of the sky.

“So, Miss Fortune is an interesting name,” Shadowheart said cautiously between bites of fish and the other rations in their packs. “Did you come up with that on your own?”

“I did,” they replied. “I don’t like to take myself too seriously.”

Astarion snorted. “Really? I never would have guessed.”

“Why ‘Miss Fortune’ if you’re…well, you know,” Shadowheart pressed, gesturing to their masculine body.

The half-elf was about 185 centimeters tall and lanky to the point of looking underfed, but their lean frame had the buds of muscles beginning to form from the last couple moons they’d spent running with the city’s thieves guild. Their tan skin was sprinkled with freckles over the slight bent of their nose and high, prominent cheekbones. They had raven-black hair with violet highlights that was shaved at the sides while the long top was pulled into a tight bun at the back of their head. A purple-inked tattoo of three swallows swooped out of their hairline, fluttering across their left temple, and despite the harrowing day they’d had, the berry-colored lip stain and angled purple eyeshadow they donned each morning remained fairly well intact.

Miss Fortune worked hard to cut a visage that danced the line between masculine and feminine, though they often found themselves shackled with the ill-fitting label of ‘man’ by strangers who could only see the world in terms of this or that. All of which was more than the rogue was willing to explain to someone they’d just met.

“It suits me,” they said instead. “To my foes, an encounter with me spells their misfortune. And to my friends, well…I can only hope they feel fortunate to know me. And besides, everyone knows luck is a lady.”

“I can go with that,” Shadowheart agreed. “If not for you, I would have had the misfortune of staying stuck in that mind flayer pod. Though I hope you and our pale friend here will be able to hold your own out here. You both strike me as pampered city boys, judging by your lack of survival skills and soft hands.”

“I’m a city person, yes, but I would hardly consider myself pampered,” Miss Fortune replied. “Not everyone works with their hands, you know.”

“Yes, some of us work with our minds,” Astarion chimed in. “I’m a magistrate back in the city. All terribly boring work I assure you, though I can handle myself with a dagger.”

Having finished their fish and rations, Miss Fortune looked over at Astarion as he spoke and noticed him slowly pushing his food around the plate without eating.

“Food not up to your standards, your honor?” Miss Fortune jabbed. “I’ll take whatever you don’t want.”

“Oh, by all means enjoy,” Astarion said, handing the plate over. “This is hardly the fare I’m used to.”

“So, how about you, Shadowheart?” Miss Fortune changed the subject while shoveling Astarion’s food into their mouth. “You mentioned you’re a cleric - you from The Gate?”

“I am, and I’ll be headed back not a moment after we find a cure. I’ve something very important waiting for me back home.” Shadowheart’s facial expression darkened; Miss Fortune sensed it was a touchy subject and wondered if it had anything to do with that strange artifact she carried. She’d been dodgy when they asked her about it after they reunited on land.

“Impatient to get back to a lover, perhaps?” they jested.

“I don’t see how that’s your business, but no, and we’ll leave it at that” she replied.

“All right, all right, we girls all have our secrets,” they said, crossing their legs and miming tucking an invisible strand of hair behind their ear. “Anyway, thanks for showing us how to set up camp. I’ve got cleanup.”

The trio each went their separate ways after dinner; Shadowheart and Astarion heading to their respective tents, Miss Fortune down to the river bank with the dirty dishes and a rag. As the half-elf knelt by the river scrubbing away, their senses were assaulted by all the unusual sounds and smells surrounding them. They were used to the din of pedestrians day and night, the hawking of vendors and clopping of horse hooves on cobblestones. There were always sounds and scents in the city, and even when they were unpleasant their presence was oddly comforting. Out here in the dark with all these new sensations, they found themselves feeling utterly alone and insignificant.

Another familiar and unwelcome sensation began to coalesce at the edges of their consciousness, as if their head were filling up with a swarm of angry bees. It happened often enough that the half-elf knew they didn’t have long before their mind assaulted them and robbed them of rational thought. They quickly finished their cleanup duties and rushed back to camp, placing everything in a neat stack by their packs. By this point, Miss Fortune’s lips and the tip of their nose had started to tingle, their chest felt tight, and the buzzing feeling in their head had intensified to a dull roar.

This can’t be happening right now, they thought to themselves. Please, please not now. For a devout person this would have been the time to begin praying, but Miss Fortune knew it was pointless; no god had ever deigned to answer before.

Perceived danger lurked in every corner, every shadow of the camp. Frantic and woozy, the half-elf began to search for a place that would be out of both Astarion and Shadowheart’s line of sight. They ducked behind a large rock that seemed to fit the bill and let their trembling legs give out beneath them. Crumpled into a ball, their breath grew shallow and ragged as a world of nightmares clawed into their thoughts.

Everything is terrible. I’m going to die out here, Miss Fortune’s thoughts screamed at them. I can’t do this, I can’t survive whatever those monsters did to me on the ship. We’ll never find a cure. I’m going to turn into a grotesque mind flayer, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. My life is over. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die! And I can’t do anything to stop it…I’m too weak…I’m going to die all alone. Utterly unloved. And nobody will miss me. Worst of all, I deserve this. I’ve never done anything worthwhile with this pathetic life of mine, not once in these miserable 28 years.

Tears rushed out and streamed down their face in an ugly, snotty mess as the panic fully gripped their mind. A gulping cry escaped their lips in defiance of their efforts to fall apart quietly, which only made them wish to hide somewhere further away from their new acquaintances.

“Is…something the matter?” they barely heard a cautious man’s voice call out. “Why, you’re positively shaking!”

Miss Fortune buried their face in their knees. “Please, don’t look at me,” they sobbed.

“I…should I leave?” Astarion asked.

“Go ahead. I’m…fine,” the half-elf lied.

“I’m not stupid, you are clearly not fine.”

“The Ma—my old boss always told me I’m just overly dramatic. I’m having a dramatic episode, as she used to call it.”

He’s going to hate you now too, the negative thoughts intruded. Not even a full day in and you’ve shown just how weak and pathetic you are.

Astarion stood there in dumbfounded silence as he watched Miss Fortune gulp for air, seemingly unsure whether to approach or wipe his hands of the whole situation and return to his tent.

“You should try this thing called breathing,” he called out eventually. “In, out…in, out…surely you know how it works.”

While the tone was condescending, it struck a cord. Miss Fortune focused on their breath between sobs, inhaling slowly through their nose and exhaling through their mouth. It took several long moments, but the angry bees began to fade and the maelstrom of negative thoughts receded along with them. Their chest still felt tight, their eyes ached, and as the last of the panic ebbed they were left with the usual crushing exhaustion; the usual collateral damage when they lost a war with their mind. Their body posture slackened as they heaved a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” they mumbled into their knees. “I’m not usually this weak, I swear. It’s just been a hell of a day.”

“…you should get some rest,” Astarion replied, his voice deadpan and unreadable. “I’m not feeling tired just yet, so I’ll keep watch over you and the camp.”

Miss Fortune rose unsteadily to their feet, lurching to the side as their knees threatened to buckle. They recalled the flash of steel against their throat hours earlier; were they less drained from their mind’s attack they would have laughed at the irony of his offer.

“Thank you, I’ll feel better knowing you’re watching over us,” they lied instead. “Goodnight, Astarion.”

“Goodnight, Miss Fortune,” he replied coolly.

It was all the half-elf could do to keep from hurting themselves as they collapsed onto their bedroll. Despite their misgivings about Astarion, they were too tired to keep their eyes open. And if he slit their throat in the night, well, they probably deserved it anyway.

If you fail to persuade the spawn that attacked at night

Leon: Stand with the runt of the kennel? The one who always whimpered while he got beat? Save us? That lickspittle only ever wanted to save himself - the rest of us be damned. You were always weak, brother. We don't follow weak. 

See this is the reason why I don't care for the other spawn. Fuck the 7k spawn and fuck these guys, too.

Yes I know Astarion is ready to sacrifice them, too but can you really blame him? This is obviously how they talked to him when he was controlled by Cazador. They saw him as weak and unimportant.

It is incredible Astarion actually can manage to say no to revenge on all of them and he can turn down the power from the ritual. It takes a lot of strength to do that.

Not pictured: all the many nights my brain wakes me up at 3 AM or 5 AM with ideas that CANNOT wait and I MUST write them immediately

Writers on a random Tuesday: Sits down, locks in, giggles, writes 10k, does not sleep

Also writers on a random Tuesday: writes one sentence and then stares into the abyss for five fours

Meet Miss Fortune

Race: High Half-Elf

Gender: Non-binary

Real name: ??? They’ll tell Astarion eventually

Birthday: Elesias 30

Class: Arcane trickster rogue

Background: Entertainer

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Voice: 6

Scent: Sandalwood, vanilla, and jasmine

Favorite food: strawberries

(Accidental) aesthetic inspiration: When making Miss Fortune in Baldur’s Gate 3, the options limited me from perfectly matching the image in my head so I went for something as close as possible to my idea of a beautiful masculine-leaning person. It wasn’t until I showed my spouse and bff that they both pointed out I’d basically made half-elf Chris Motionless from Motionless in White. Oops? 😅

Backstory: Miss Fortune is one my favorite DnD characters I’ve ever played. They were a smart, sassy, and chaotic spy master who had a hand in every secret, scandal, and plot. They were the life of every party, their melodic laughter filling whatever room they were in. As a drag queen they trampled over gender norms and played a pivotal role in helping me realize that I am also non-binary - so Miss Fortune will always occupy a special place in my heart 💛🤍💜🖤. So of COURSE when I was making my first bg3 character I had to make them!

The Baldur’s Gate 3/fanfic version of Miss Fortune starts out significantly more traumatized. They grew up as a pretty bird in a bird cage with clipped wings until finally leaving their old life behind two moons (months) before getting abducted by mind flayers. “The Embrace of Love and Death” will reveal more specifics about their backstory as they get to know and trust Astarion. The parallels in Miss Fortune and Astarion’s backstories are completely coincidental! I knew nothing about Astarion going into the game, and when I created Miss Fortune I 💯 intended to romance everyone’s favorite muscle mama, Karlach. But Astarion landed a crit sneak attack on Miss Fortune’s (and my) heart and the rest was history.

Follow along with Miss Fortune’s story and healing journey with Astarion on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298?view_full_work=true

The Embrace of Love and Death, Chapter 6: From Liability to Menace

Chapter Summary: Astarion and Miss Fortune are rudely awoken by sacks being thrown over their heads as they are spirited away for a final test of their combat skills. They must work together using a blend of stealth and brutality to free themselves before time runs out. Should they succeed, the companions will be able to resume their adventures. Fail, and Lae’zel threatens to gut them and take Miss Fortune’s role as leader.

Read the full chapter on AO3!

Excerpt:

The ropes binding Miss Fortune’s hands behind their back cut into their wrists as they squirmed to get free. They had no idea where they were. Several minutes ago they’d been awoken suddenly this morning to a sack being thrown over their head as Lae’zel pulled them roughly to their feet. Their reward for several days of hard training, she explained, was a final test. Pass, and she’d declare both them and Astarion as no longer being liabilities, and they could get back on the road looking for a cure. Fail, and she’d gut them both and lead Gale and Shadowheart onwards herself before their bodies even had a chance to grow cold.

“No, no, this is just a friendly assessment,” Gale had interjected. “The only negative consequences for failing will be extra training!”

Miss Fortune was led forward with a rough hand against the back of their head for some ways until the hand gripped harder, stopping them. Someone else pushed them down into a chair and bound their hands behind their back.

“Your armor and weapons are in the room with you,” Lae’zel began.

“Room…? Where have you taken-“

“LISTEN, istik! You will free yourself, arm yourself. Astarion is already in your same predicament somewhere else nearby. You must find one another and fight your way out before Gale’s illusion spell wears off. Understand?”

“I have so many questions, foremost being ‘What the fuck?’ But sure, I understand the general instructions,” Miss Fortune had groaned. Their companions must have grabbed them early because they were so exhausted they could barely process the situation. Their suspicions were confirmed when Lae’zel tugged the hood off of them and they saw that dawn was only just beginning to break. “This couldn’t have been a midday test?”

Lae’zel elected not to answer that last question, instead turning on her heel to leave and motioning for Gale to follow. They shimmered out of sight as they presumably left the range of whatever illusion spell Gale had woven.

This left Miss Fortune alone and bound, but knowing this was an illusion helped stave off any panic. They wondered if the companions had grabbed Astarion first and then come back for them or if they’d left poor Shadowheart to “capture” him on her own.

A smile tugged at their mouth as they imagined how absolutely livid the vampire must be right now. Interrupting his beauty trance? Messing up his hair with that awful sack? Risking a broken nail to wriggle free of the ropes? They could picture his scowl and the vitriol spewing from it so clearly in their mind. The image of threats of violence issuing forth from such a beautiful man was delicious, especially seeing as they would be directed at other people and not them. Focus, they scolded themselves. You can daydream later.

Miss Fortune never thought they’d be glad for their history as a courtesan in their new life, but as luck would have it they were well-versed in the art of rope play. A wicked smile spread across their face as they tested the bindings. Lae’zel would have to try harder than that to keep them tied up. After all, they’d had their entire body intricately trussed and bound more times than they could count - oftentimes while suspended from the ceiling - and they’d been taught to find their way out of any ties. They were free from Lae’zel’s shoddy knots in no time at all.

The half-elf made a mental note to teach her how to do a better job tying up prisoners after this. Or better yet, to make sure they always did it themselves.

Once they had dressed and armed themselves, the next step was to survey their surroundings. Gale’s sage advice from the last few days replayed in their head: deep breaths, take time to note your exits and your advantages, use all your senses. They were in a small stone room with slits for windows and one door. The only things inside were the chair, the chest their gear had been in, and themselves. Which was to say, not much to take in. Putting their ear against the door, they paused. At first, they heard nothing. But then came the sounds of footsteps drawing nearer - it sounded like two sets.

They waited and listened, breathing as quietly as possible, as the footsteps passed right by their door and then began to recede on the far side of it. Some kind of patrol then, it seemed. Once the sound had completely faded, they took a chance opening their door. Relief flooded their veins when they found it unlocked. That would save them time and reduce the chances of getting caught mid-lockpicking.

The door opened into a short hallway with two other doors to the left of theirs. Clinging to the wall they crept over to the middle door, once again cupping an ear against it to listen inside. No sounds of struggle inside, so they moved on. Miss Fortune felt thoroughly confused when they got to the last door because they could smell Astarion’s perfume - Rosemary, bergamot, and a touch of brandy, he’d recently revealed - before they even reached the door.

Lae’zel had mentioned that this was some sort of elaborate illusion Gale wove. Could the perfume smell be part of it, designed to trick them into opening the wrong door? No, they decided. They hadn’t ever noticed Astarion and Gale in close enough contact for the wizard to replicate the vampire’s scent this well. Putting an ear to the door revealed shuffling sounds, confirming their hunch that Astarion was behind door number three.

Hearing distant footsteps once more, they quickly ducked inside Astarion’s room and shut the door as quietly as possible. The sight that greeted them was one they hoped they could commit to memory. The vampire was on the last clasp of his padded armor, muttering what sounded like foul Elvish curses under his breath. His hair was a beautiful mess with curls going in every direction, but the best part was his facial expression. His eyebrows were downturned slashes over his fiery eyes, and his mouth was twisted into a livid grimace; the very paragon of anger. It took everything Miss Fortune had to stifle their laughter; this was even better than they had imagined.

Read from chapter 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298?view_full_work=true

*struggles while writing* i suck and writing is hard

*remembers some ppl use ai* i am a creative force. i am uncorrupted by theft and indolence. i am on a journey to excellence. it is my duty to keep taking joy in creating.

The Embrace of Love and Death, Chapter 4: Bite, Bite, Baby

Summary: It’s Bite Night! Miss Fortune awakens to find Astarion’s fangs a breath away from their neck and suddenly all the signs they dismissed before snap into place: their companion is a vampire. Astarion is caught off guard by Miss Fortune’s unexpected reaction.

Read the full chapter on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64221298/chapters/166132147

Excerpt:

“Were you about to-“ they cried out.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down. It’s not what it looks like,” he pleaded. There was a haunted look on his face as he shuffled back from where he crouched, his hands held up in a placating gesture. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed - well, blood.”

“So you came to cull the weakest of us first. I understand. I didn’t realize you were a vampire, but in hindsight the signs were all there.” They hugged their knees, resigned to their fate. After all, what hope did they have of fighting off a vampire at night in such a tight space?

“You find a vampire in your tent and your first reaction is numb resignation?!” He asked, incredulous.

“Did you want me to be mad?”

“Yes! No! I-I don’t know!” He paused for a few moments. “There is a lot to unpack here. You and I are going to have a long talk later about your lack of regard for your own life. I need you alive, you know. We all do,” he said with a huff. “Secondly, I didn’t come to you because you’re the weakest but because I thought you’d be the most understanding. The least likely to stake me on sight.

“And lastly: What do you mean you didn’t know?!” Astarion whisper-shouted, gesturing wildly. “After you made a big show about reading that book about ‘vampyrs’ where you knew I’d spot you? Or the hint you dropped about how I haven’t been eating? You shivered at my cold, undead touch earlier. I thought for sure I’d been found out and you were working your way up to blackmailing me o-or…driving me out.”

“Pure coincidence,” they shrugged. “Why didn’t you just tell me if you thought I’d understand?”

“It was still a big risk to take, you know, when a wrong guess would spell my demise.” He shook his head. “No, I needed you to trust me. And you can trust me.”

Miss Fortune considered his words for several moments. Studied his face. The arch of his white eyebrows, raised in concern. The deep set eyes, wide with fear. The way his nostrils flared and his mouth hung slightly agape. The man was terrified, ready to flee at a moment’s notice and never return.

“…I do,” they said at last. “I trust you.”