#also she looks really good in Astarion’s shirt

[whosyourvladi]

happy minthy

#also she looks really good in Astarion’s shirt #minthara #bg3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #SavBG3

[blkgirl-writing]

Helloo! so I know you can romance the companions with any appearance, but I have a hard time imagining them actually choosing to being with a plus size person like myself.

Very indulgent, but do you have any thoughts about them being with a chubby partner? Perhaps a bit of fluff and spice?

Love what you do. writing for the ppl that fanfics often leave forgotten. You're awesome & I hope you have a great day today <3

I’m so happy you asked this, because actually, most of the companions I see loving thicker people and a few fairly exclusively liking bigger women (it’s Wyll) but here’s my headcanons for the baldurs gate 3 companions being interested in a chubby/fat tav!

Aatarion

Astarion is actually the only character I see maybe not loving chubby bodies all that much, but that's really for acended Astarion, since he becomes such a despicable and unapethetic person

But Astarion once he breaks free of cazador?

learns to be accepting and....kind?

He was always drawn to a very conventional type of beauty as he had to be fit into that mold for so so many years, so he kinda felt like he needed people to fit in that mold for him as well

He would start to find beauty in the smaller things in life that he was never able to before

Including bigger chubbier bodies

the comforts of plushness and something extra very much opposes his more thin and sharp body

like he actually likes hugging, he would ASK for a hug

to him hugging you is the embodiment of his freedom and enjoying non sexual things simply, without any motivation

Gale

I think Gale would find comfort in your body

Using as much of you as a pillow, cuddling and being able to be the big and little spoon

Any skimpy outfit would drive him wild, he'd get all flustered and kinda just be more near you?

Since he loves thighs the bigger the better, he won’t complain. He lowkey wants to be crushed by your thighs

Gale would find so much joy in so much ass and thighs in his face, his personal horny heaven

(TW E.D) If you have trouble eating he would cook for you and sit away from camp if it made you more comfortable. He'd take so much joy in making something you wanted to eat (END OF TW)

Gale stars at you a lot

And when you ask why he's staring, he always has a different reason

Somehow he always knows when to compliment you when you're feeling down

he will always find the best way to make you feel better and it's unique and special

"I love how your shoulders look when you're reading" or like "I just can't take my eyes off you when you smile, it lights up your whole face. All I want to do is make you smile til the end of our days" etc etc

Shadowheart

Lovely person but I do think she’d learn to love bigger bodies, I like to think Karlach was her sexual awakening to big women

But honestly I think it would only take some good titties for her to be convinced

I think she would love being smaller than you, and would absolutely wear your shirt/blouse around camp as a baggy dress

Especially to kind of brag about sleeping with you and you being hers and hers alone

She would basically exclusively want to sleep with her head resting on your thighs

many many nights were spent like that looking at the stars

honestly you'll need to ask her for compliments but she never fails to make you smile with them

"What? You want me to tell you how perfect you are? Or how beautifully your body looks in that tight dress? How much I want to take you to bed right now? I thought you already knew those things, but if you ask I'll say them a million times, til you believe it, and a few more times for good measure."

Wyll

Wyll is so sweet and so nice, he always compliments you and always hugs you in the best ways

he notices your insecurities and makes sure to compliment them and tell you how much he loves and appreciates those parts of you

He also just finds you the sexiest thing alive

he loves his partners bigger

I mean I've already said he's an ass man and he fully wants to be engulfed in that ass if possible and that just don't happen with skinner people

Wyll loves his comforts and his comforts is just ass on face tbh

he'd get real wild and very flirty drunk too

"Give me all of that ass" and "sit on my face and ride it like you mean it til the dawn breaks"

is also in love with your stomach and kisses it whenever your closing rides up or is exposed from the clothing itself being revealing or just short

when he's next to you he will always have his hand around your waist

Karlach

no matter what size you are Karlach can pick you up and swing you around like she's picking up a pillow so

she treats you absolutely no differently than a skinnier person, maybe she picks you up and swings you around more actually

she'd treat you kinda as a princess it's adorable

In my head, Karlach is obviously super muscley but also kinda chubby so like there'd be no reason to see you as anything but perfect and so beautiful

She is always snackin' on stuff, so she'd ask if you wanted any of the nibbles she found on the way

Karlach would wanna just sleep face down on your stomach so like you can decide if she actually does every single night or short rest or nah

and she'd randomly kiss your tummy while she laid on it just cause she wants to and she finally can kiss you and lay on you, and all the fun things she wanted to do for what felt like forever

Lae'zel

she sees someone as the bigger, the more strength

so immediately she'd be like ah yes, a worth lover able to take all intensities i give

She's definitely go harder on you in combat (during a certain romance scene) because of your size, and definitely give more during sex

Especially if you have bigger arms? she's a suckers for big arms

Lae'zel would cuddle like it was fucking wrestling

like you'd wake up with bruises and if you asked she'd be like, you can take all I give, therefore I will give you even more than I have

everything she does is intense of course but she will never baby you like she may someone smaller

she sees you so much as an equal and a strong fighter it's actually very cute and everyone is kind of shocked how much she likes you

----

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[spacebarbarianweird]

Hey! It's my birthday today and it's been really good but it's been kind of the first birthday I've ever properly celebrated with my chosen family and friends in a long time since a lot of trauma/ab*se, and I really hope it wouldn't be too much to ask (take as long as you need obvs) for some headcanons with a Tav that isn't going to celebrate on their birthday, but Astarion makes it special for them somehow and maybe they agree it's Tav's 'first' birthday 🥹🥹🥹👉👈

I love all your work and eagerly await your posts, they make my day 🥰🥰🥰

Hi! Hope you will like it! Now, Tiriel's birthday is also in autumn!

Birthday Gift

Summary: Tiriel has no idea when her real birthday is and she's never receieved birthday gifts. Astarion finds it outrageous.

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

TW: a mention of abuse

Tiriel looks around.

Autumn.

Leaves are turning red and yellow, the winds are cold and promise winter. 

It’s beautiful, though the barbarian feels uneasy – the childhood memories. Winters are merciless in such wild places as the Sunset Mountains. Hunger, sickness, death… Sometimes her stepfather, a cruel chieftain, would order to leave certain people outside (too old, too weak) – to let them die and not waste scarce food. 

He would often pull Tiriel outside when the autumn winds were particularly harsh and say: “Look at this, pixie girl, I can just order not to give you any food and you will die like a stray cat. But I am merciful – I told your mother I’d save your pathetic half-blood life!” With these words, he would let her go and Tiriel would run to hide somewhere dark and safe.

She was lucky there were no harsh winters during her childhood. She would be the first to be deprived of food and warmth.

Only half a human. The result of an affair between her mother and an unknown elf. She still wonders why she was spared in the first place. It would have been so easy to murder a newborn girl.

They didn’t.

They kept her.

Maybe it was a superstition that elven children would become evil spirits once they died, or fear that Tiriel’s elven relatives would return. 

Those are questions without answers, Tiriel knows that.

Maybe there was a moment when her mother loved her. Maybe there was a moment when Tiriel’s stepfather really did forgive his wife. 

Tiriel doesn’t have happy memories from her childhood. It’s all too dark and miserable.

And autumns like this remind her of it.

“Hello, darling,” Astarion grins, returning to the road from the woods. His shirt is stained and he licks his lips. 

“What was it?” she asks.

“A boar. Didn’t expect I’d jump on it from the tree.”

Tiriel smiles as she wipes his face from blood and brushes his messy curls. Astarion doesn’t see himself in a mirror and, of all forms of intimacy, he especially cherishes being taken care of. Brushing his hair, cleaning his face, making sure he looks beautiful.  

Two years. Two years of her own happy memories. Where she has a person to talk to, to hold, to love. Astarion is a troubled person, but Tiriel loves him at his worst and at his best.

Astarion rubs her ear, forcing her to giggle.

“Let’s go?” he suggests. “The weather is getting worse, I want to spend the next few days somewhere warm!”

“It’s five miles to Longsaddle if I’ve read the map properly.”

Astarion takes her hand, and Tiriel feels how warm it is thanks to the boar blood. 

“Then we will meet the sunrise in a comfortable bed!” Astarion chuckles. “And in each other’s arms.”

“I doubt they have good beds there, so far from Luskan and other big cities.”

“We have low standards, you and I. As long as there is a blanket and a bed, we are fine, Besides I love using your breasts as my pillow.”

Tiriel bursts into laughter and receives a peck on the cheek.

Unfortunately, it can’t stop bad memories.

… Her siblings asked her to help them with something on a cliff. She followed them, only to be violently beaten by her older brothers. Tiriel even thought for a moment they were going to rape her, but, instead, they pushed her down to certain death.

Tiriel woke up in dirt and blood, with her arm broken in half, shivering and coughing. 

And with a cave bear ready to murder her. 

That’s when Tiriel felt rage for the first time.

It filled her veins with fire. Tiriel barely remembers what happened that night but she knows she killed that bear– and was left with facial scars. Then she came back, limping and bleeding. She thinks she fought someone, maybe one of her brothers or the chieftain and then she ran.

She ran into the mountains woods – no armor, no weapon, only rags and bare feet. 

Then she collapsed on the ground, hurt and scared in the middle of the woods, forever lost.

Tiriel remembers that moment vividly. 

A young girl who had barely hit puberty (because half-elves grow slower) woke up all alone and cried like a child. Then she got up and walked, dying of cold and hunger. 

Two days later she was found by a group of adventurers who sort of adopted her as their party child. An old halfling washed Tiriel’s hair and healed her wounds. A water genasi cooked the girl food and offered the warmest blankets. 

And the tiefling paladin asked Tiriel what her name was.

“My sweet, I thought it was me who tends to wander into dark thoughts,” Astarion squeezes. “Remembering your misfortunate youth again?”

“Yes. Just – similar. To what it was back then. The same autumn when I ran from home. The same autumn when I got my name.”

Tiriel, the little girl told the party. My name is Tiriel.

Astarion does the same thing he always does when he wants to support Tiriel.

He gives her a hug.

“Hush, Tiriel,” he murmurs. “You will never be alone again.”

Triel relaxes. That is her Astarion – a simple hug, a kiss, an embrace, and her nightmares perish.

He pulls away and Tiriel catches his most adorable smile – he doesn’t pretend, doesn’t show off, doesn’t perform. That’s real him.

“I want to kiss you,” he says.

She nods. They don’t have to ask permission to do things with each other. Kisses, hugs, grabbing hands, touching intimate parts – but they still do.

Tiriel asks if she can kiss Astarion.

Astarion states he wants to kiss her.

Simple as that.

Permission and declaration.

Astarion grazes her lips. He is in his predatory mood, when Tiriel just needs to accept whatever is going to be done to her. His strong hands grab her shoulders and tug at her.

Astarion finally breaks the kiss and stares at Tiriel for a few moments.

“I am not going anywhere,” Tiriel murmurs.

“I know, Tiriel. You are mine and I am yours,” Astarion presses his forehead to hers. 

They go down the hill and find themselves on a road that connects scarce towns and settlements far from the Swords Coast. The road is more or less walkable but it soon will be washed out due to rains. Tiriel notices Astarion’s visible disgust.

“Honestly darling, we should have stayed in Baldur’s Gate and lived a life of comfort!” he chuckles.

“You would die of boredom – besides I thought you’d had enough of that place.”

“True, but there are many other comfortable places! Tiriel, you deserve to wear a nice gown made of the best fabrics and sleep in a huge master’s bed where I will ravish you till you beg me to stop.”

Tiriel turns around to see her partner better. “And then I would die of boredom. Astarion look at us – I am a nomad and you were enslaved for so long you deserve to see the world.”

“It doesn’t mean I can’t whine and complain!”

“You can whine and complain all day long, Astarion. Why even bother to be in a relationship, if you can’t do this?”

They bicker and laugh for the next hour until they see a town ahead. Despite it being close to midnight, the town doesn’t sleep and is rather festive.

“What is going on here?” Tiriel asks a passerby as they enter the town. “Some local celebration?”

“It’s our duke’s first son’s birthday,” the woman shrugs. “Not like we care about the spoilt brat but you can’t say ‘no’ to a celebration right?”

The woman disappears in the crowd and Tiriel points at the stalls.

“Astarion, look! So many sweets! Oh, and there are fireworks!”

Astarion looks distant, as if something plagued his mind.

“Love, what is it?” She asks and feels a wave of anxiety. What if it’s too much? Feasts like this used to be his hunting grounds, what if he has a painful flashback?

Two years against two centuries is almost nothing.

“Tirie,l” he finally asks. “When is yours?”

“What?”

“Birthday. I know this is a huge deal for humans and the ones who grew up with them.”

“I don’t know.”

Astarion looks at her with shock.

“You… what?”

“I don’t know when mine is, I was never told. Neither a date nor a month.”

“Oh,” Astarion didn’t expect this answer. “Well, at least you know the year, right?”

“I don’t.”

Astarion raises his index finger as if wanting to point at something, but then he shakes his head in disbelief.

“We have been together for two years and you are telling me now that you don’t… how old you are?!”

Tiriel ponders a bit.

“Well, I know it was 1472 DR when I ran away, I was told by the party who adopted me… and I had had my first blood only two months before that. But I am a half-elf and it took me longer to grow up… So I think I was… fifteen? Maybe, sixteen… Or fourteen? Definitely not sixteen… Because my older brother was sixteen… Damn, I don't really know. Don’t bother.”

“Darling, I can’t not bother with the fact that I don’t know how old you are!”

“You say it as if I was one of those little girls who look older than they are and get their one-night stands in trouble!”

“It’s not that, Tiriel! It’s just… I don’t know… wrong!”

“It probably is.”

“It is wrong.”

“I cannot do anything about that.”

The wave of sadness drags her to the bottom of her dark thoughts.

Beatings.

Insults.

Hatred.

Pain.

All at once, since she was born.

Suddenly, she is a little girl again – a little girl thrown outside in the autumn rain, in the wind, wearing only a nightshirt. Tiriel thinks she hears her stepfather's laughter from behind a thick wooden door as a seven-year-old half-elf who cries and begs him to let her in.

Tiriel stops. Tears prickle her eyes. Her face burns, and an adult half-elven woman who fought gods and demons starts ugly crying like a child. 

She collapses on her knees not caring about the dirt, wailing and sniffing.

“Tiriel!” Astarion drops his sack and kneels beside her. “Did I do… Did I ask… Oh, hells.”

He puts his arms under her shoulders and presses her to himself, lulling and swaying side to side. He murmurs all the words of love and care he is capable of.

“Let’s take you somewhere warm,” he finally says, helping her to get up.

Despite the fest, they manage to find an inn with a free room, a cheap and simple one. Tiriel has to go inside first to invite Astarion, and then he takes everything in his hands again making sure the innkeeper brings warm blankets and prepares a bath. 

“Love,” he says. “Look at me.”

Tiriel tries not to think about how bad she looks right now with her puffy face and snot but obliges.

“That's much better, now let’s take you to the bath”

An hour later, Tiriel submerges herself into the hot water and expects Astarion to join her, but instead he goes straight to the exit.

“Astarion!” she calls him out.

“I will be back soon, just relax while I am away, all right?”

Tiriel hates being alone. Too many dark thoughts, besides, now she feels guilty. Astarion went through hell and she dares to complain?!

Her past isn’t that bad in comparison with his. She has no right to pity herself. 

Time passes slowly, and Tiriel feels restless. What if something happened? What if there was a vampire hunter? Or something else…

When she finally decides to get out of the bath, Tiriel hears familiar footsteps.

“Close your eyes, little love.”

Tiriel obeys and then feels something soft and plush in her arms.

“Open” Astarion places his chin on her shoulder.

A plushie-owlbear.

Soft and cute, it’s a toy appropriate for a little girl to cuddle with. 

A toy she never had.

“Well,” Astarion explains. “Since you don’t know when your birthday is, it can be… today. 17 of Uktar. Happy birthday, love,” he kisses her cheek. ���And I suppose we should decide how old you are.”

“Thirty-eight,” Tiriel says, doing mental math. “Let it be thirty-eight”

“Happy thirty-eight birthday, my lovely, darling girl.”

Tiriel feels like crying again. It’s just a toy, a plushie, a thing for a baby. But she was never treated as a child, she was never given toys or dolls. And this gift… is the best she could have received.

“Do you like it?” he asks carefully.

“Yes… I do love it! Thank you! Did you steal it?”

“I won it from the toymaker. Played cards with her.”

Astarion sits on the edge of the bathtub and Tiriel wraps her hands around his waist tugging him into water. He lets out a laugh.

“Darling, you know how long it will take to fully dry?”

“Eternity! And we will spend this eternity in the inn warm and safe,” Tiriel says. “Astarion, please! I don’t want to go back on the road now, so many bad memories!”

He sits in front of her fully in the water. “Ok my sweet, what else do you want for your birthday? Maybe I could return the favor and let you ride me in some place from your traumatic memories? I’ve seen a rather terrible-looking dirt of mud.”

Tiriel thinks for a while and then says. “I don't mind riding you, but maybe in the bedroom?”

“Whatever you say, darling!”

**

It’s sunlight outside, and Astarion feels the tugging feeling in his undead chest. He misses sunlight, that's true. 

Tiriel is asleep in his arms. They actually didn’t make it to the bedroom and had the first round in the bathtub, and now Astarion needs to repair his shirt and find missing buttons from a doublet. 

It causes him anxiety, but he shrugs it away.

He can lose all the buttons and rip all his clothes, and the only reaction he will receive will be Tiriel’s jokes.

Tiriel hugs him from behind, placing her cheek on his mutilated back. The plushie is pressed between their bodies as his warrior-love has decided to sleep with it. 

He actually didn’t expect her to like the toy. Initially, he was panicking and looking for something appropriate for Tiriel. A ring? A bracelet? Maybe a weapon? Maybe just something sweet? 

Everything he was putting his eyes on was off. Jewelry Tiriel would never wear, a weapon she wouldn’t fight with. 

And then he saw the toys. An owlbear plushie for a woman who is always treated like a brave hero. Who didn’t have a proper childhood? 

The first birthday gift for someone who has never had a birthday.

And Tiriel loved it so much she pressed it to her chest the moment they stopped ‘celebrating’. She wanted to give it a proper name, and they spent at least a few minutes discussing their ideas before they settled on Big Eye.

“Tiriel,” Astarion mutters knowing she is asleep and won’t wake up. “I love you. You will never be alone, I promise. I will be with you unless you grow tired of me, and I am sure you won’t. Thank you for … finding me. Saving. Helping.”

Suddenly he feels her wet lips on his scars.

“I will never grow tired of you,” Tiriel promises.

--

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#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion romance #bg3 #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #named tav #baldur's gate tav #baldur's gate iii #astarion established relationship #barbarian tav #half elf tav #hurt/comfort #tiriel of the sunset mountains #tiriel the barbarian #astarion x tiriel #oc tav: tiriel #astarion ancunin #astarion baldurs gate #astarion baldurs gate 3 #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion fluff #astarion fanfiction #astarion imagine #baldurs gate 3 astarion #astarion fics

[tumbleweed-run]

Raw

Kinktober Day 29 Breathplay 98% Bloodweave

“You’re going to die one day, you know, both of you,” Astarion announces, sounding petulant. 

Gale has long learned that tone is covering up other things, things the vampire isn’t ready to face. 

“Yes,” he says in agreement instead of arguing. They, he and Tav, that is, will die one day, hopefully far into the future. 

Astarion huffs and turns from the window, clearly annoyed with Gale’s answer. “And what am supposed to do then? Now that you’ve dragged me into,” he waves a hand around the room, “this.”

Tav stirs in her sleep but is otherwise undisturbed by them. Gale spares her a glance, hopeful she remains that way. It’s far too late to be having this conversation, but having it, they were. 

“No one dragged you. You were invited,” he reminds the vampire. 

Another huff. Those long-dead lungs are busy tonight. “It remains. What am I supposed to do then?”

“Live?” Gale suggests the obvious. He’s not sure what’s brought this on. Their mortality against Astarion’s immortality has never exactly been a secret. 

Astarion seems to consider that suggestion but then shakes his head, whether to dismiss his thoughts as a whole or the suggestion itself, Gale isn’t sure. 

“What if I can’t?” It’s said so quietly Gale might have believed he hadn’t really heard it at all, except the other man is facing him now, face uncharacteristically raw and expecting. 

“Then you’ll join us,” he says simply. 

Astarion is next to him now, arms crossed, looking angry. “You make it sound so easy,” he hisses, fangs bared. 

Gale resists the urge to roll his eyes, instead, he gently closes his book and deposits it on the table beside the bed. “It is, to a point,” he agrees softly, “you have only two options at that point. Each of us does.”

Gale isn’t one to pretend about things like this. He knows that if he lost them both, his grave would also be dug. He’d been willing to die for Mystra but chose to live for Tav. He doesn’t think his life is without its own merits, but there is little hope his heart would continue to work if he’d lost them. Luckily, depending on how you viewed it, they were all far more likely to go out together, be it through some accident or adventure. 

If he had to choose a premature death, that’s his choice. 

Astarion seems almost able to read his mind as he asks his next question.

“What would you do?” his voice is back to soft, but he seems deflated now. 

“If I lost you both?” Gale asks, but Astarion doesn’t answer. He’s standing so close to the bed that his thighs are touching it. He’s turned his face away from Gale. “I would follow.”

This proclamation doesn’t seem to please Astarion. His face pinches, and his arms cross again. 

“I think,” Gale says, carefully reaching out to grab one of the vampire’s hands, pulling it towards him. “That if I lost one of you that I would survive, we,” he emphasizes this with a tug of Astarion’s hand, “would survive. It’s a hurt that we could shoulder together.” 

Astarion’s eyes are guarded when he finally looks at Gale, but he takes it as a good sign when the other man doesn’t rip his hand away. He’s unnaturally still for some time, and Gale lets him think. Then, it’s in a sudden flurry of motion that Astarion climbs his way into Gale’s lap. 

“Astarion,” Gale gasps out a warning, looking next to them to make sure that, in his haste, Astarion didn’t knee Tav in the face. 

Astarion looks then, too, and when they find Tav still sleeping, he starts moving again. “She’ll forgive us,” he whispers before his mouth descends on Gale. 

Gale grasps the vampire’s hips and holds on. There’s little else for him to do. Astarion is nearly frantic with the way he presses kisses against his face. His fangs aren’t minded, and Gale knows he’ll look like he got into a fight with a particularly feral cat come morning. 

Astarion breaks away from him, only long enough to rip Gale’s shirt over his head. Then he’s back for his skin. He dives for Gale’s Netherese mark, back bent in a painful-looking fashion. When the vampire’s teeth break the skin there Gale knows it's on purpose. He hisses and jumps but otherwise allows Astarion his attack. He stays there focused until Gale is hesitant to look down, convinced his skin will be flayed open.

The relief of Astarion letting up from his attack is brief as his lips return to Gale’s. Gale makes an attempt to return the kisses, if they could be called that. He tries to soften Astarion’s movement, hands smoothing up the other man’s sides. Astarion will not be gentled tonight. Instead, he sits back abruptly, one hand flying up to bracket around Gale’s neck. 

Instinctively, Gale reaches up to grasp at Astarion’s wrist, but his brain catches up before he shoves him away. The vampire is just holding his hand there, not actually putting any pressure. It’s a warning, and somehow, given his current state, it’s a request. He looks at Astarion, chest heaving as he waits for something. The scholarly part of Gale is curious if his regression back to human tendencies is related to all the emotions he can see swirling in Astarion’s eyes. He’s not about to ask, very much aware of their current position. 

The part of Gale that is nothing better than any man is aware his cock is already so hard it hurts. He wants to reach down and feel if Astarion’s in the same way. He’s almost certain he is. Beneath the near-feral look on his face is a look Gale’s come to recognize. But again, he does nothing. 

That must be Astarion’s cue because his fingers twitch as he gradually begins squeezing at the sides of Gale's throat. Gale allows it but keeps his hand on the vampire’s wrist. If this is how Astarion plans to kill him, no amount of shoving at him will help; Gale knows this. Yet he doesn’t move more than to relax his body against the pressure. 

His ears have begun ringing when Astarion releases the pressure, though he keeps his hand ringed around Gale’s throat. Gale inhales deeply for a moment but barely has time before Astarion is kissing him again. At least this time, he manages to keep his fangs in his own mouth. Gale leans up to return the kiss but comes up short, the the hand around his neck refuses to move or allow him to. 

It’s Astarion who moves, one hand working to open his trousers. Gale takes pity on him and helps. Together, they manage to undo them, and Astarion finally moves his hand as he somehow manages to shimmy his pants off. Either he wasn’t wearing underwear, or he took them off with the pants. Gale can feel his cool skin through the thin fabric of his own sleep pants.

The hand is back around his neck almost instantly, and Gale sighs. “Is this how it’s going to be tonight?” He asks. 

His response is in the form of tightening fingers. They squeeze harder this time and hold well past when the ringing in his ears starts. Gale’s vision is beginning to fade around the edges when Astarion finally releases his grip. He’s much greedier this time when he sucks in air, his gasp audibly. The rush of blood as it returns to his brain leaves him feeling lightheaded and almost giddy. Astarion slides himself forward on Gale’s thighs until their cocks brush against one another. Gale gasps and rocks up into the sensation. 

Almost as soon as his skin stops buzzing does Astarion begin again. Gale grabs at the vampire’s hips and holds. He’s at the same place when Astarion releases. This time, Gale’s hips roll up immediately. Astarion’s eyes rolling back is the first thing Gale can see as his vision clears. He roughly keeps grinding their cocks together. His hold on Astarion’s hips much tighter than usual. There is likely to be bruising in the morning, to match the still stinging marks on his own skin. 

Gale’s the one who groans when Astarion pushes up onto his knees to create a gap between them. He quickly shoves Gale’s loose pants down until his cock springs free. Astarion looks at it for a moment with the same hungry look he often gives to strangers’ necks, and it makes Gale shiver. 

He moves quickly and Gale’s hands on Astarion’s hips are the only reason he’s able to push back against him. “Stop,” he grinds out, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Good,” Astarion rolls his eyes and tries to slam his hips down once more. 

Gale realizes he’s losing and barely manages the incantation for oil before Astarion manages to win. The other man curses as he realizes it’s not a total victory. The oil coating Gale’s cock eases some of the discomfort he’d hoped to cause as he slides down onto it. It’s not his best spellwork, but given the circumstances, Gale is proud of himself. 

A little too proud, apparently, because Astarion’s hand flies back to his throat and squeezes immediately. This time, Gale leans into the pressure, locking his eyes with Astarion. Neither of them moves while Astarion chokes him, both of them frozen in this tableau. It’s only once he’s release that Gale thrusts up. 

It’s enough to knock Astarion off balance, which is a testament to his current state of mind, and he collapses forward onto Gale’s chest. Gale hesitates only long enough to see if Astarion is going to tell him to stop. When he doesn’t protest, Gale grabs at his hips and begins fucking up into him. Astarion is almost limp against him and Gale thinks about pushing him back up, to check on him, when he feels the brush of fangs against his already battered neck. 

He tilts his head in invitation. 

Astarion wastes no time in biting him. Gale has to restrain his thrusts in favor of not accidentally ripping out his own throat. Instead, he settles into rolling his hips upward gently, allowing each movement to drag Astarion’s cocks where it’s trapped between them. The vampire swallows mouthfuls of Gale’s blood noisily. 

It's gone on long enough, and Gale digs his thumb into the crease of Astarion’s hip. Astarion makes a startled noise and pulls back quickly. There was no grace or elegance to the way he was feeding, and there’s a smear of blood from his chin to his nose. Gale can feel a small trickle of blood going down his neck and onto the pillow beneath him. Astarion’s eyes zero in on it, and he raises his hand one more time and presses his fingers against the bite marks. Whether he’s trying to be helpful and stem the blood or just fascinated with the mess, Gale isn’t sure. 

Gale doesn’t care. 

He begins thrusting up into Astarion once more, no longer constrained by the risk to his own life. Astarion makes little noises, grunts that sound punched out of him, with each thrust. He keeps his fingers pressed against Gale’s neck. 

“Why do you let me do this?” Astarion asks after a moment.

Gale groans, only a little frustrated, but when he properly looks at Astarion, he slows his movements. For the first time since the other man finally spoke tonight, his eyes are clear, and he no longer looks frenzied. 

“You know why,” Gale tells him. 

Astarion shakes his head, “no, I don’t.”

Gale sighs and closes his eyes for a moment. “Because I trust you,” he says truthfully once he reopens them. 

Astarion’s eyes narrow on him. “Why?” He pushes.

They’re doing this tonight, Gale realizes. There’s no way to side-track the vampire so they can have this conversation at a more reasonable hour, in more reasonable states of mind.

“Because I love you,” he admits, feeling a little like he’s admitting defeat.

Astarion’s hand grips his neck roughly, harder than at any other point tonight. “Don’t,” he growls, there’s wetness growing at the corner of his eyes. 

Gale can’t do this again, he realizes almost immediately. His neck is too bruised already, and this time it hurts, badly. Not to mention he’s lost not an insignificant amount of blood, and what little he has left is trapped painfully in his cock. His fingers move as this realization washes over him, three sharp taps against Astarion’s hip. 

Astarion lets go immediately, hand flying back almost as if burned. Gale keeps his hold on him, in part for his own stability but also to keep him from fleeing. Astarion sits rigidly, looking at him. 

“Do you want to stop?” It’s Gale who asks. 

Astarion sags a little but shakes his head. Gale wants to continue, his arousal hasn’t flagged, but the gnawing in his gut prompts him to smooth a hand up Astarion’s back and ask again. “Do you want to stop?”

Astarion nods but refuses to look up at Gale again.

Gale easily maneuvers Astarion up off of his cock and frees a hand just long enough to pull his pants back up. Astarion allows himself to be pulled back against Gale’s chest and doesn’t argue when he wraps his arms around him. Gale realizes they’re both still covered in sweat, blood, and cum but right now they need this more. He’s tense for a moment, waiting to see if Astarion argues against this. When he doesn’t, Gale relaxes back against the pillows. He even manages to find a corner of the covers and pull it over them. 

He finally spares a glance at Tav again and isn’t surprised to find she’s awake. She’s watching the two of them quietly, and when she sees Gale’s looking, she gives a short nod. 

“I do love you,” Gale says to Astarion, who seems less rigid against him. “We love you,” he amends, looking down at Tav.

Astarion makes a noise like he’s winding up to argue, but Gale rubs his hands against the vampire’s back over the blanket as he continues. “It’s okay if you can’t hear that now, but it’ll be there when you’re ready.”

#bloodweave #bloodweave x tav #gale x astarion #kinktober 2023 #breathplay #it's like 98% bloodweave with mentions of tav #this is hopefully more of an explanation to some of you confusion about 'connect' #i actually wrote this first like a week ago #posting early so I can post on AO3 and then go freeze to death at soccer semifinals

[thatfreshi]

Ok so... Idea for Astorian? What if the reader was some form of Flamenco dancer? Or something of the sorts, who acts like a bard, but instead of using an instrument they dance to perform magic. Not forced at all ofcorse!! I love the way you write him, it feels like you've nailed his character!

Uhm... if you guys want a part two... yeah. Let me know LMAO

TW - general horniness, reader is threatened at dagger-point

Recommended Song: Shirt - SZA

"Yeah, I just dance and then... magic."

The way Astarion first narrowed his eyes at you when you expressed that you couldn't really do anything else, he thought it was laughable.

"So you don't really fight, you just have fun while everyone else is actually doing things?"

"No, I have to actually be good at it! That's like saying you just open doors."

"Well that would be extremely rude because these hands do much more than open doors my dear."

You rolled your eyes, and he smirked. Now, this was before the two of you even slept together, let alone become an item. Over time Astarion has come to understand just how important of an asset you are to the group, but more specifically how he can't keep his eyes off of you on the battlefield. Whenever you can, the two of you find some time alone in the city to find you the most gorgeous flowy outfits, partially because they're easier to move in, but he also loves spoiling you, especially if he benefits from the view. He likes stitching little messages into the loose pieces of fabric, anything in between love notes and threats to people who have even thought about hurting you. The most recent one reads 'If the person wearing this is dead, you're next.'

Somehow, you and your rag-tag group have ended up being tasked with a group of bandits outside of Baldur's Gate. Does it have anything to do with the tadpoles or anything else important? No, of course not, but you have a hard time not helping people in need.

When you come across the group of bandits, it's apparent that they're not going to be a problem. While you're staking out their camp, Astarion comes behind you, whispering in your ear.

"If we make quick work of this, I'm sure we could find somewhere afterwards, for the two of us."

It sends a shiver up your spine, but you laugh it off, turning to look at him.

"You think you're funny, huh? Come on, we have work to do."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Maybe you should find a new way to cast magic, because it cannot be good for him to be horny mid-fight. Then again, it never seems to be a problem, so maybe it doesn't matter? Astarion certainly is an odd specimen, but you love him anyways.

"I am begging the two of you to stop flirting on the battlefield, please."

Gale pleads, wishing the two of you could keep it in your pants for once.

"Listen, once you find someone who completes your heart like Tav completes mine, you will understand. Until then, I'd stop complaining."

You nudge him and then whisper.

"Aster, you are talking to the guy who had sex with Mystra, and then became a literal bomb to try and win her approval."

"Damnit, I always forget about that! Fine, whatever. If Mystra were here, you would be just as lustful as I am, no matter the circumstances."

Gale grumbles to himself and walks off to the others, as Karlach prepares to make the first strike. She makes the signal, and you all take your positions. Astarion always insists on staying close to you, taking you with him on the flank if he has to. No one tries to argue, because he doesn't trust anyone else to keep you safe.

"Damnit, ambush!"

One of the bandits calls out, a tiefling. Gale casts grease, making their camp light up in flames from the campfire. Karlach strikes one of the bandits from behind, knocking them into the fire, effectively killing them. You don't realize though that one of the bandits had taken a trip to the forest to relieve himself, and he comes up behind you. Suddenly, you're swallowing fear with a dagger to your throat.

"Cease fire! Or the pretty one gets it."

As soon as the others look over in concern, the man's throat has been pierced, some of the blood splattering onto your face. Astarion drinks until your attacker hits the ground, the dagger falling out of a bloodless hand. You catch sight of Shadowheart, who is in close-quarters combat with a drow, and you turn to your lover.

"Come here!"

He doesn't ask questions, and he grabs your hands, spinning you out towards the fight as you send a fire bolt the drow's way. She falls quickly. Soon enough, Lae'zel finishes off the last of them, and Shadowheart casts water across the flames, making sure nothing else is burnt down. You try to catch your breath with the rest of the group, and you realize Wyll is injured, a gash across his shoulder. Normally Halsin or Shadowheart would deal with such a wound, but it's been a long day, and you're the only one with any healing magic left in you. With a few moves of your hips, you send out a healing ward, patching him up rather quickly.

"Thank you Tav."

Astarion comes to your side immediately after, almost as if he's jealous, wrapping an arm around your waist. As the others start going through the bandits' treasure, your lover wipes the blood off of your face.

"Surprised you didn't lick it off."

"I'm sure his blood was rancid, I much prefer yours."

If someone told you a year ago that someone saying they want to drink your blood was a turn-on, you would've laughed them all the way to Waterdeep. Now, you struggle to stand properly, holding your thighs together. He keeps his hand on your face, grip a little tenser than before.

"You need to be more careful when we're out there. I know these people were practically dead already, but some people won't try to trade you off like a token."

Normally you'd roll your eyes, tell him you obviously know that, but you just nod, and his thumb creeps over to your bottom lip.

"Astarion, we can't get this thing open!"

You're interrupted by a shout from Karlach, and Astarion kisses your cheek.

"I'll finish this later I suppose. Come my love, time to loot these insolent fools."

It's as if he set up the scenario perfectly, like he wanted the two of you to be interrupted. Hopefully he keeps his word.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #fluff

[cactusnymph]

for the touches ask game, how about "3. hugging while twirling around"? for anyone!

Fuck, she's on fire.

Not literally this time, but emotionally. She can touch people again. She can go around and shove people and clap her hand on their backs and kiss and hug and fuck and punch people in the face in a friendly bar brawl without making their face look like a medium raw beef steak.

Fuck. Yes.

She feels the intense need to kiss Dammon square on the mouth but she hugs him instead and hoists him up and holds him way longer than might be appropriate but he chuckles and hugs her back and it's the fucking best feeling in the world.

Gods, it's so good to be alive.

"This is the best day. This is. The best. Day!", she exclaims, over and over again and beams. She can pick flowers. She could scritch a dog behind its ears right now! Holy shit!

The possibilities are endless and Karlach feels happiness bubble inside her like thick lava, ready to burst out of the ground. She's a literal volcano of happiness. Fuck yeah.

Karlach hugs everyone. She hugs Gale and Tav and Shadowheart, then she hugs Dammon again, then she rolls around in some grass just for good measure. It doesn't leave a burning trail of ash and embers behind and Karlach is so fucking stoked she almost starts crying.

"Oh my gods, I need to find someone to spoon tonight. I'd spoon the fucking Elderbrain to be totally honest with you. I am so ready to cuddle. Holy shit!"

"Please don't spoon the Elderbrain", Gale says weakly and Tav laughs so hard that they choke on their own spit and Shadowheart has to use a spell to make them stop heaving. Karlach loves them all so much. She loves her friends and the whole world and Dammon and this grass tickling her skin and the feeling of the wind in her face.

It wouldn't even matter if she died tomorrow because she's so fucking happy to be in this very moment. It would all have been worth it just for this.

Karlach whistles and sings the entire time they walk back to camp, from time to time grabbing Tav's or Shadowheart's hands to hold and swing between them like a happy child.

First thing she'll do back at camp is find Scratch and pat him for half an hour. At least that's what Karlach thinks until they arrive and the first thing she sees is Astarion and Wyll standing next to each other as Astarion works to fix a rip on Wyll's shirt.

The heart in her chest that's not really a heart roars with affection and she loves Scratch, she loves him so much, but she also loves these men and now she can touch them.

Fuck.

Karlach doesn't think twice, she barrels forward, jumping over the campfire with ease past Lae'zel who's reading a weird metal disc with a furrowed brow and then she's there, startling both of them.

"What in the—", Astarion starts and drops his needle but he can't finish his question because Karlach already picked them both up. Gods, they're both so skinny. She smushes them together and laughs and maybe she also cries a little as she turns around with both of them in her arms, their feet dangling off the ground.

Astarion protests and struggles against her grip like a grumpy cat while Wyll laughs with her.

"It worked!", he exclaims, his voice as excited as Karlach feels.

"It worked", she cries and hugs them tighter, turning two more times before setting them back down and taking a step back. Gods, it's hard to let them go. Fuck she wants to hug them again immediately.

"Well", Astarion says and pretends to dust off his shirt, his face purposefully nonchalant but his cheeks all flushed, "I see your little outing was successful, darling."

"Fuck yes it was. I will spoon you so hard tonight", she says and pumps her fist in the air. Astarion blinks while Wyll chuckles.

"Spoon?", he echoes. Karlach grins so hard that her cheeks hurt.

"Yeah. Spooning. Cuddling. Holding tenderly. Whatever you wanna call it", she says and nods before twirling around by herself again. "I can hug people again!"

"Ugh. Fine, I guess", Astarion says, doing his best to sound as if he's doing Karlach a huge favor. Wyll shakes his head but he's still smiling.

"That means you won't get cold tonight, my pointy-eared friend", Wyll says. Astarion narrows his eyes at Wyll.

"I am dead. I don't get cold", he proclaims and stalks off, leaving Wyll's shirt unfinished. Karlach beams at him as Wyll hugs her again.

"I am so happy for you", he whispers and she holds him tight.

"Me too, Wyll. Me too."

feel free to send me more of these <3

#wyllstarion #wyllach #karlach cliffgate #astarion x karlach #astarion x wyll #karlach x wyll #astarion x karlach x wyll #wyllachstarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 fic #mi writes #astarion #astarion ancunin #wyll ravengard #bless you anon and also janne for poking my way into this direction

[astarionposting]

Thank you @korcariiwitch for tagging me &lt;3

20 TAV/OC QUESTIONS

[img credit]

I. what do they smell like at their freshest? (and/or after a tenday. your choice)

mint, lavender, rosemary and a hint of vanilla.

II. what would their blood taste like to vampires?

i dunno, like blood usually does lol, or whatever blood with a lot of wine in it tastes like.. maybe she'd get them drunk

III. how would they kiss their LI?

she is quite reserved, so gently/discreetly in front of others (or just not at all), and more passionate in private.

IV. how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

Always steals the furry blankets, either doesn't really cuddle bc she is sweating under the fur blanket or has her leg over her LI if it is really cold hehe

V. what does their tent area look like? where do they prefer to pitch their tent (next to water, covered on three sides, etc)?

Cozy warm tones with a lot of candles, pretty much a fire hazard, incense and oils burning, a lot of furs for her bedding area, and decorated with dried flowers, medicinal herbs and animal bones, mostly deer. Prefers to be away from water and in a more seculded/quiet area.

VI. if they had a set of dnd dice, what would they look like?

A dark navy with bronze accents. Deer/dragon style engravings.

VII. do they collect anything (gems, bottles, keys, etc)?

Medicinal herbs, dried flowers and animal bones (as previously mentioned) as she believes everything can serve a purpose, even in death.

VIII. if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

definitely astarion/gale club, but she mostly focuses on studying history and medical stuff

IX. if they had to be put in a “get along shirt” with a companion, who would it be?

She gets along with everyone pretty much, but I'd say she would butt heads with Astarion on certain things, such as always having half-assed plans and rushing into things, and maybe Sharran Shadowheart due to her own religious beliefs.

X. do they prefer speak with dead or speak with animals?

speak with the dead, as much as she loves animals.

XI. what are their thoughts on clowns?

meh.

XII. their companions are gossiping about them behind their back! who is it and what are they saying?

Not sure who would, but probably talking about her decision to get a giant septum ring of an elk post-resurrection lol... maybe Karlach, but in a good way, like she also wants to get a piercing to match

XIII. what makes them laugh? what does their laugh sound like?

A very quiet and brief laugh; I would say when she is having a genuine conversation with someone she cares about, mostly laughing over Gale's jokes. It is mostly a breathy laugh that comes out of her nose. otherwise, it is mostly a sarcastic scoff at lack of common sense/general stupidity. Having a father who barely smiled/laughed himself, she kind of mirrors the same behaviour.

XIV. do they have any inside jokes among their companions?

She isn't really the type. I also am bad at coming up with jokes :)

XV. what’s the description of their camp clothes in the inventory menu?

my mods are messed up so it just says 'not found' lol... it is jaheria's camp outfit

XVI. what’s the description of their underwear in the inventory menu?

i dont have any on her... lol NOT BC IM A PERVERT BUT BC I JUST NEVER SEE THEM SO I DIDNT BOTHER

XVII. how do they celebrate their birthday?

She is a noble lady, so probably a large feast (with lots and lots of mead and wine) would be held in celebration. A lot of music and dancing, entertainment, often in form of live competitions, are held, gifts, etc... but as she prefers the quiet, she always sneaks away as soon as everyone is too drunk to notice lol

XVIII. what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

Nature documentaries lol, I think she would be fascinated by National Geographic docs for suuure, and she would probably attempt to get her LI to watch them too out of pure excitement.

XIX. do you have a playlist for your tav? if so, what’s the title + description?

I do! It is just named after her lol, I guess the songs align with her personal arc that I am roughly/poorly developing in my brain

XX. if you were to try pickpocketing them, what would they be carrying?

Probably something that reminds her of home or a loved one, maybe a stone or a small gift that is sentimental to her.

I FORGOT TO TAG AGAIN: @julietvoid, @cheekylittlepupp, @dark-and-kawaii, @punk-muffins, @anderwelt aaand anyone else who wants to! if u have already done u can ignore or u just dont have to do it at all lol

#oc: freyja baratheon / se timpa velkrys #tag game #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #game edit #i did gifs of my idea of her when she was younger and i think she is soooo cutie #oopsie I spelled her name wrong 😭

[tealfling]

Little Headcanon Scenes

I imagine happen in my Amaranth playthrough that I don't have stories to go with.

- Amaranth flits around camp, ever the busybody, checking on the other companions and helping them with their chores. Asking if they need anything. Ever since she allowed him to drink from her, Astarion has been acutely aware of presence. Always a ping on the compass in his mind. But she'll do things that'll catch him off guard. Like sneak up behind him (hard to do) while he's reading. She'll grab him by the chin and tilt it up to her as she leans in to study his face. At first he's startled by the touch, but will relax when he sees it's her. He'll try to collect himself and not melt into the devastating warmth of her hands. Like always, he'll reflexively throw a seductive line at her, while asking what he can do for her, but she'll stroke her thumbs from the dark circles under his eyes down his cheeks. It's so gentle, caring. Astarion won't know how to react. Suddenly there's nothing to focus on but the sprinkle of white freckles across her purple cheeks, like a starry night, or the way her long silver hair has fallen around his face like a protective curtain. or the way her crystal clear eyes read him intently, almost concerned. He can almost feel himself blush from her heat. Her voice is be soft when she says "Just checking." Astarion's brows will crease confused. "On what?" It's a defensive snap, and harsher than he means. "On you. You look like you haven't fed well in a while, would you like a little midnight snack?" Amaranth's voice is low enough so only he hears, but her tone is playful and her cute little nose crinkles. Astarion couldn't help the small smile when he said, "How very altruistic of you. But if you're offering Darling, how could I say no?" He meant it to sound much more suave, but her smile grew. "Alright, I'll see you later then." For the briefest second, he thought she might say something else. Maybe it was the glance she gave his lips like she might press hers to his, but she just popped up, sauntering away, and Astarion wished she had.

- The first couple of days of their journey would have been hard for Amaranth to deal with only having one pair of pants. The pair she had on while abducted. Eventually she'd try to fashion her own out of some looted pair she finds. It's hard to get the right fit with a tail to consider. Why not get some at the Grove, from the tiefling refugees? Because, they're refugees!! Hasn't enough been taken from them?! And now you want her to take their pants? Absolutely not. Obviously she can make do with what she can find. She's a pretty good quilter after all, but not really good at tailoring. She's already removed all those bullshit sleeves from her shirts, how hard can it be? Those skills aren't as transferable as she thought, however. What, like, you've never had a meltdown over a seam ripper before? Astarion will swoop in to fix it bc how is he supposed to act when he finds she's crying with half her vast ass hanging out of some pillaged pants? Dry those tears and put away that pouty lip, it's.... making him feel bad. He'll take care of it for her, he's used to fixing his own clothes. It's the least he could do with everything she's given him. He'll also be stealing something better for her to wear as soon as he can. It'll be a nice little gift, something to repay her with.

- As soon as Karlach is touchable, Amaranth showers her bestie with all the hugs she can handle. Literally, hanging off her bigger friend half the time. [At least until she overheats, Amaranth still hates being sweaty, as much as she loves her friend.] Piggy back rides are a frequent occurrence. Occasionally, with Karlach on the receiving side, Amaranth is surprisingly strong, but Karlach actually prefers her little purple backpack, it’s a comfort thing. Being finally held by another. It’s around this time that the others in the party were starting to suspect something might be going on between Amaranth and Astarion. Lately they've been visibly inseparable, constantly whispering secrets and inside jokes. It's also been noted that when one seemingly disappears the other is also coincidently missing. So it’s kind of strange that Amaranth's suddenly very touchy with Karlach, even more so than Amaranth's normal chumminess with them. Astarion is never far behind the two tieflings, still seemingly at the purple one's beck and call, but the others can’t get a read on what’s going on there. Gale and Wyll are constantly exchanging glances. Who’s going to say something first? Wyll cracks first, not one to forgo the opportunity to poke at the vampire. He looks at Amaranth wrapped behind Karlach, then elbows the pale elf, “So, Astarion, you and Amaranth seem pretty close. How come we never see you carrying her on your back?” The other man never gets the chance to reply. Somehow Karlach beats him to a punchline, “Because she can ride me longer obviously.” Amaranth grabs the red tiefling from behind by the horns and shakes her head. “Karlach!” She exclaims with a nervous laugh while Karlach cackles. The elf clicks his tongue and crosses his arms, turning his head, clearly pouting. "Oh I assure you, I'm the best ride any of you could ever get," he bites. Amaranth tugs back on Karlach's horns so they can look at each other from the side, "Well, none of my rides have made me 'see stars' or taken me 'to the FeyWild and back,' so I guess we all have room for improvement." Karlach groans shamefully as the three men look at them. Gale and Wyll exchange confused glances, and Wyll mutters about being sorry he said anything.

#bg3 tav #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #astarion #bg3 #tav oc #tav #astarion x female tav #baldurs gate tav #my tav #tavstarion #tiefling tav #write your tav #baldurs gate #karlach #bg3 fanfic #bg3 oc #bg3 tiefling #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #tav baldur's gate #tav bg3 #tav fanfic #bg3 headcanons #tav headcanons

[wetcatspellcaster]

Not sure if this is 500 words but this section omg. dying to know what Astarion was thinking when he had seemingly won, only to get stabbed lol

Rosalie pulled back from Astarion, who seemed oblivious and content, eyes shuttered and half-lidded with bliss. She wondered if he’d even noticed his charm was broken.

It soon became clear, as she plunged the makeshift stake into his chest.

His eyes snapped open as he cried out in pain, then looked down at his front in open incredulity. Rose pulled back her hand, and then leaned into it fully, jamming her whole shoulder behind it and pushing the chair leg in deeper, for good measure. It went further this time, the rib now successfully bypassed, and the sound that came from him was animalistic, as she felt blood begin to coat her knuckles. She decided that was enough, and immediately started backing away, onto the side of the room with the fireplace.

“Gods!” Astarion shrieked, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” She demanded, humiliation and anger and unbridled fury making her nearly blind, as she stumbled over her own feet. “Me? You kidnap me, you take my magic from me, and then you place me under a charm? How is that any different from being Feebleminded, you absolute, wretched cunt!”

Astarion tried to get out of his chair, but couldn’t seem to manage it. It was as if the stake was a leaden weight, pinning him in place like a bug. Rosalie made her way backwards, not taking her eyes off him as he reached down, and tugged the chair leg out of himself with a low, pained groan. It was coated in blood, as was the shirt, but only by a few inches. She hadn’t reached the heart - not that it mattered. Again, that wasn’t how the Ascendent would die.

“I really don’t like these tedious, vulgar fights we keep having,” he said in a low voice, tossing it aside. “But you keep leaving me no choice.”

Between one blink, and the next, he was moving.

But the stake had slowed him down enough to do its job. Rosalie had reached the fireplace.

Astarion grabbed hold of her arm, making her cry out in pain.

“I love you,” he said, “don’t you understand that? What it means for me, to even admit it? You say you love me too, so why are you so intent on prolonging both of our suffering? Why do you have to keep making things so difficult?”

Rose picked up the iron poker resting next to the grate. No time or spells to heat it, but oh well. Blunt force trauma would do.

She swung round, and backhanded Astarion across the face with it. He cried out, which meant it was somewhat effective, so she did it again, this time cracking him across his shoulder. The metal dented a little, but he also went reeling.

“Fuck you,” she seethed, breathlessly. “You take my magic from me? Well, fuck you. I don’t fucking need it. You are going to wish I did. Loving me will suck for you. Go fuck yourself.”

Thank you for playing!!

What if the only intelligent thing I had to say was just.... >:)

Anyway, what was Astarion thinking? Just generally? What an idiot.

But in more serious commentary - I've said this a few times in comments, but in my eyes Ascended!Astarion is a Charisma 10 man who's only company is now people he literally controls who exist to please him, and mortals he doesn't really get bc he is Other to them, but who he can charm to get his way. I wonder how many 'normal' conversations he has these days, where people aren't actively trying to please him or appease him and are scared at him or are just magically coerced into compliance, and how rusty his skills of actual relationship maintenance and even just social interaction have gotten. I also doubt whether he recognises what a 'normal' conversation, with all the inconveniences of anxiety and potential disagreement, even looks like anymore, or if he does see it ultimately as an exercise with frustration that could easily be bypassed by the tools at his disposal.

I think he also feels entitled to use those tools, as all he's actually bypassing is just the boring mores of social etiquette, more than anything else.

All this to say, I genuinely think he gets what he wants out of this charm: a productive conversation, where he gets straight answers to his questions and no evasion.

And you're right! He does think he's won, because he hasn't actually done anything 'wrong' or 'evil', and when you force this woman to be honest, she tells him she loves him! They've gotten to the heart of the issue, finally! Everything else was just posturing, or saving face, or morality, which will be overcome in time... now that they're being honest with each other. And aren't all good, healthy relationships built on honesty, first and foremost?

(Also in his mind, Feeblemind is permanent, but all of the measures here - the braceleters, the charm - are just temporary things that he 'knows' he'll stop using eventually, once they're over this little snag in their relationship. I extrapolated this attitude out from the way that the Ascendent threatens Spawn!Tav in-game with 'these are things I could do, but I won't ever need to so long as you're good!' With the break up, that changes to 'these are things I have to do right now, but I won't always need to, once everything has worked out..."

Idk, I just think that the way you show the man that he's taken the violating nature of his powers for granted and forgotten how invasive they can be is... with violence.

In terms of what he's thinking once they are fighting, and the dialogue I wrote here, in particular "why are you so intent on prolonging both of our suffering?" Astarion of the game is probably well-versed in overcoming other people's reticence and shame in his seductions, right? And if someone plays hard to get, he's also got the tools to overcome that. But I think he probably very much resented that part of his work (it made him more culpable bc he had to be the one to push, he also probably saw a lot of people 'faking' playing hard to get and saw a lot of it as an act just as tawdry and shameful as what he was doing, etc). So that frustration is plain here... this woman has already told him she loves him. They were in love in the past. So whatever qualms or refusals she has left is probably just fake, to look like a good person, etc. and it's denying both of them (but most importantly him) the only thing he actually wants. So I imagined a lot of frustration at the actual social etiquette of seduction bubbles up here, when he's now supposed to have to do that anymore, coupled with a temper tantrum, coupled with being STABBED.... YEAH. He's angry and not a little fucked up.

And of course, Rosalie's behaviour is perfectly justified, bc she's just been violated and forced to admit some embarrassing things. I actually think embarrassment and shame is driving her, as that's where the anger response comes from - it's easier to be mad at the violation, than examine anything else, much less what's just been said.

And she's certainly not going to examine the emotions she's feeling with that man stood in front of her. (That's why she examines it with Shadowheart later, instead)

She was also just so fucking terrified at not having magic. I tried to sublimate it in the writing of the chapter, because it's from her POV and she's being unreliable in the sense that she's trying to hide that fear from herself to avoid feeling helpless and powerless... but hopefully the final thing she says in the quote you've sent shows that that was the biggest violation all along.

I'm very proud of "loving me will suck for you." I think that's both very sexy of Rosalie, and very sexy of me, tbh.

As for the actual action of this scene, I don't have anything deep to say, I hadn't staked Astarion yet in any timeline so I thought it would be funny if that happened. And then the iron poker was just there for some catharsis for Rose, more than anything.

DVD commentary ask

#asks #lovely words from lovely people #dvd commentary ask #ask games #wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth

[punchratt]

Indulging in my brainrot again, heres that longer bg3 character design post i was talking about! (@dragonageshitpostingelves, i didnt forget you <3) Also, Spoiler Warning, i talk a lot about the companions backstory and quests, so don't read if you haven't finished those. Or do, I don't care.

Im gonna be honest and admit right now that I am sadly NOT a professional character designer, but instead just a nerd who likes to draw. I think the bg3 designs are amazing as they are and deserve a hell of a lot more praise then their already getting. That being said, i have many opinions about these funny little tadpole people. The first of them being that Gale, Wyll, and Astarion should not look like that. I mean, they all literally have the same body model, just give or take few scars and some hair, then swap the head. Which i think is a little shocking considering that the girls have much more diverse body types. Normally its the other way around.

First, Astarion. I love him, but i should not be able to grate cheese on his abs. Dude was a slave surviving off rats and living in the shadows for over 200 years, he's a rouge with 8 strength and no work out plan other then squatting so he can hide better. The last thing he should have is a six pack. I am a firm believer in scrawny Astarion, that man is wet noodle, he is malnourished and it should show. I should be able to see that mans ribs. Play that boy like a xylophone. This twink is not twinking right now and its driving me insane!

Im not saying he cant be sexy, in fact i think its very important that he is sexy. A big chunk of his story has to do with his relationship with sex and how he views romance as a whole. The whole point of his story is that he seems like the sexy vampier stereotype, but is actually a much more in depth character with a very complicated relationship to sex and romance. He needs to look sexy for that to work. But you don't gotta have a six pack to look sexy! Whenever i see him without a shirt all i can think of is that abs just don't look right on him. Everything else i think they've gotten perfect, he really does look like the character he's supposed to be and i can only applaud Larian for getting it so right, just.. lose the abs.

Second, Gale. I feel like I've already summed up how i feel about his design in my last post, but i like talking so i'm gonna say more! Gale should be chubby!! All he likes to do is ponder his orb, talk to his cat, and study magic. I firmly believe that he also has a side passion for food. After all, what is cooking if not potion brewing but different? Gale can appreciate a good meal and it should show! After all, eating and food is integral to his character with the whole arcane hunger thing he has going on. Give me my dad bod Gale and all wrongs in this world will be righted.

But to be a little more serious about this, i think his story becomes all the more poetic and tragic if you view him as someone who loves food. Because just imagine that you have three things you love, magic, food, and your goddess girlfriend. Now imagine that one day, to impress your goddess girlfriend, you do something kinda really stupid and end up with a magic nuke in your chest. But wait, it gets worse! Because of this failed grand gesture your goddess girlfriend breaks up with and banishes you. She leaves you to deal with this whole thing by yourself, all you have now is your cat and cooking. But wait, it gets even worse!! No matter how much you eat, yu arent ful, so you're constantly starvinng now, and thats how you find out that the bomb in your chest feeds on magic! Which means that now Gale has to ether find a way to keep it fed or he's gonna kamikaze half the swords coast. Meaning he has to eat any magical artifacts he gets his hands on while also dealing with the emotional damage of everything else. Food, one of the only things he had left, is now a stressful reminder of the fucked up situation he's in.

Now I don't think that means Gale starts to hate food, or resent it in some way, I still think he's the adorable little foodie goofball dork who insisted on being the camp cook. But i do think it makes his whole relationship with food something much more bittersweet, which is very interesting and something i feel could be reflected better in his already amazing design.

Third, Wyll. Wyll, I believe, is the most likely to be buff out of these three. Though, I don't think he'd show it as much as he does. We know he likes to dance, and that he enjoys a good sword fight more then anything! He used to fence with his father and overall is a very active guy. He is probably the character that most matches his body, there aren't many things I'd change. That being said, he is still a warlock with less strength then a hamster. He wouldn't be that muscly.

My dude is the son of a Grand Duke, he's had a relatively cushy life that didnt really get all that much harder after his dad gave him the boot (dick move btw). He's struggled, defiantly! But i don't think it'd be a reach to say that Wyll might have a little fat on him. I dont really have much to say other then i think he'd benefit from taking those abs away and putting that bulk somewhere else. When I imagine Wyll I imagine a man with some arm game and a pudgy belly. Maybe some calf muscle too, but overall nothing too defined since he doesn't really use strength in combat. I mean, why does Wyll have more defined abs then Lae'zel? Of all the origin characters she should have the most defined abs of the group. Not these three clowns(affectionate).

Wyll is a softie with a heart of gold, he should get to have a soft body to go with it. Plus it'd add more contrast between what parts are devil and what aren't. Sharp rough horns, a scarred face, and striking but intimidating eyes juxtaposed against a soft but somewhat built frame, quick whit, and a generally nice attitude make for a very interesting design! One that i think would be much more compelling then the kinda default muscly hero build he has now.

Now compare those to the secrete fourth option i didnt tell you about! Halsin! I think Halsin is designed perfectly and there is nothing i would change. He uses a unique body model from the other three and his design perfectly captures who he is as a character. He's big, appropriately buff, and looks kind. I look at that man and i think "yeah, thats a guy who occasionally turns into a bear", and he does! He looks like a natural born leader who knows how to make those tough decisions, he looks as inviting as he acts, and he looks like he gives amazing hugs. Bear hugs if you will! That man is a bear in every sense of the word, and whats more druid then that?

I only really brought him up to set him as sort of a standard for the designs of this game, because almost every single design is just as perfect and well thought out as his. I could go on for several more paragraphs about other characters and why their also perfect, or what other small little changes id make to their designs (cough cough, Lae'zel abs, cough) but this thing is getting long enough as is.

So to conclude. Fuck abs, and get them off my boys! If you've actually read this whole monstrosity, thank you. It took me over half a day to write and i still feel like i haven't touched on everything. Like, i didn't get to praise their designs nearly as much as i wanted to, but oh well. Maybe I'll make another post about the girls, maybe ill ramble about what i do like about the boys designs, i don't know. Depends on if anyone wants that, or if i still got gas left in the tank after this. Finally, please excuse any spelling errors and the inconsistent capitals. Its late, i have dyslexia, and i'll probably go back and fix it later. Thanks again for reading!

#rattrambles #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #astarion #wyll ravengard #halsin

[not-so-lost-after-all]

"So... you like him now? My brother?"

 "Of course I do, my heart," she laughs, not sensing the trap, "he looks and acts so much like you."

 "Yes. It's just that he's still alive. He could warm you up in the night. He could give you children." He's not broken is left unsaid.

---

This is "angst with happy happy ending" ficlet inspired by headcanon by @spacebarbarianweird

Astarion has a twin brother which, you can guess, is a mortal and his feelings are complicated. Needless to say, you can listen to El Tango de Roxanne while reading this.

---

He loves his brother, he truly does. Dalar is his twin, the other half of... whatever is left of his soul. The apple in their mother's eye. The one who has never been the problem child. The perfect brother who never gave up on finding out what happened to Astarion. He's also unquestionably... alive.

Dalar is, amongst other things, a constant reminder of what could have been. Of the roads not taken and now lost forever for an undead. Of a lifetime of regret. His brother is so content and collected, always has been. Sometimes, just sometimes Astarion looks at him and wants to scream.

It's especially bad tonight. The buzzing of the tavern only causes him headache. Tavira, his little princess, is having good time being the heart of the celebration. He can see she's tipsy already, smiling at everyone, touching men deliberately.

Astarion is not jealous, not really. He remembers how she reacted when she told him about Halsin's proposal and he simply joked about it and gave her a free pass. The hurt in her eyes that he misread her so badly. The sadness when she realized he really still sees all the others including her as only thinking with what's between their legs, constantly trying the scratch an itch.

(“I don't understand what you want from me, Tavira. Whatever you're going to do with Halsin, enjoy. It doesn't concern me.” She closed her eyes, praying to the gods to give her strenght. “If we're to be a couple, it does concern you,” she hissed. “I'm not interested in what Halsin has to offer. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression,” she finished, defeated.)

He really thought he lost her in that moment.

So he wasn't jealous about the others. But right now, Tavira is laughing at whatever his brother is telling her and they start dancing with no care in the the world. A cold wave goes through his body. It's not the first time it crossed his mind, of course. In his head he knows it's stupid to feel this way. Tavira and his brother knew each other before and they didn't click this way. And yet... Dalar is in so many ways his imagine in the mirror. Or rather, Astarion is the broken mirror Dalar is looking into.

He grunts and can't take it anymore. The fresh air outside the tavern is soothing and Astarion decides to hunt tonight. I doesn't take long before one unfortunate fool tries to rob him...

He returns shortly before dawn and doesn't really want to see Tavira but it's not like he has much of a choice. Hells bellow, he's in such a state of mind that he pictures himself entering the room and seeing Dalar there in his place in her bed. He's not sure whether the dark bile inside him would take over and he'd kill them both or he'd start breaking things and howl like a wounded animal if that were ever the case. But of course, it's just her sleeping peacefully when he sneaks into their room.

Astarion positions himself next to her as he always does, trying not to wake her up. Tavira moves anyway, without opening her eyes, she lays her head on his chest. On his shirt which is stained with still wet blood. On his body which still reeks of fresh blood, still warmer than usual but its temperature quickly dropping again. The black abyss in his stomach is already calling to him again a he feels only revulsion right know.

He hasn't touch her yet and she raises her head to look at him. “Are you hungry, Starlight?” Her voice is unmistakably soft. If only she didn't know him so well and just for this moment he hates her for that. Of course he's hungry, he always is. He simply shook his head of deflected with a joke the last few times she offered her blood, so she knew something was wrong.

He is so tired, so he simply tells the truth. “Yes. But my hunger also isn't yours to deal with although you insist otherwise.” He shakes his head and changes subject before she has a chance to protest. "So... you like him now? My brother?"

 "Of course I do, my heart," she laughs, not sensing the trap, "he looks and acts so much like you."

 "Yes. It's just that he's still alive. He could warm you up in the night. He could give you children." He's not broken is left unsaid.

There's alarm in her eyes now as she lays her fingers to his cheek. “Perhaps. But his touches are foreign, you know. And he's so dull compared to you. You still think I could find yourself lacking but I know why I love you. With your sharp tongue and quips and loyalty and your scars. You,” she kisses the corner of his mouth and a silent sigh escapes him.

Tavira lays her head on his chest again and he starts playing with her hair. He could almost hear her thoughts racing.

“We're going to Waterdeep first, that's our biggest change. Gale would be happy to help. If not him, then Halsin and the druids might know how to help you and the others. Evermeet is also the place to go when you are searching for magical solutions. You can still get all you want, just not today.”

There's a ray of light peeking from the blinders on the windows but for the first time in weeks, Astarion realizes it doesn't fill him with regret or fear. That is a dream that may or not may not come true. But what he desires the most is right here in this room and at least for this moment, it's more than enough.

#astarion #hurting myself again #my writing #astarion x tav

[tozettastone]

I've been chewing on this Astarion/Player Character relationship dynamic that exists in my head a little

(but I'm sorry to inform you that I named her 'Uggie' at character creation)

Basically I had every intention of writing a whole thing but right now it's just this bit followed by two totally disjointed scenes. Maybe I'll be back to work on it when some external work is done.

---

Uggie relented eventually, as Astarion had known she must.

She was the kind of person who could be easily persuaded as to the advantages of sitting perfectly still under a tree and focusing on '''inner balance''' for seven hours without even a break to piss, but who could not be tempted out to a party for love or money.

While Astarion liked to think of himself as a manipulator of the highest order, he also knew that he had exactly one, totally foolproof, silver-bullet fallback tactic, and he used it now to convince his dear... darling... much beloved... something-or-other to come out with him.

He took his clothes off and just kind of assumed that all Uggie's grey matter would leak out her ears and he'd be able to persuade her to do anything he wanted while he was getting dressed again.

Like he said. Foolproof.

"Of course you don't have to come, darling," he said, pulling his shirt off like it was a prerequisite for digging through his wardrobe in his windowless bedroom. "Although you're welcome. I just need to borrow your eyes while I get ready."

"I don't have your aesthetic taste," she said, watching him throw his extremely expensive clothing around and then strip, fast and businesslike about it. She was standing, touching nothing, in his bedroom, arms crossed, leaning all her weight upon one hip. Her face was cynical. "You might not like what I think looks good."

Uggie's eyes were one of her best features, if you asked Astarion (nobody had). Their burning orange was striking, although it could attract unwelcome attention from... erm, really anyone who'd ever met a Lolth-sworn drow before.

Right now, those eyes were hot on his bare skin. All according to plan, then.

"Unless you've developed a mystical technique to make me visible in the mirror within the last five minutes, your aesthetic sensibilities — defective or otherwise — will have to do. Sit, I won't be a moment."

"What is this... event, again?" she wondered, perching on the edge of his bed. It was huge and dramatic, made up all in black with costly gold embroidery. There were wispy black curtains that veiled its edges. Even when they were drawn, they hid little.

He and Uggie were both mostly nocturnal creatures, and certainly occasional bedmates, but the unmitigated luxury of an enormous featherbed all for himself had been too great a temptation for Astarion to resist. Besides, the sprawling house they shared in the upper town was four storeys high and big enough that they could have slept in a different room every night for a year without repeating one.

Astarion had entered the housing fight on the side of hedonism, and he'd fought dirty, as he always did. Uggie wouldn't have even had a house, if the paperwork had proven too hard. And it would have, to her. She'd have given up when faced with the need to hire a conveyancer and gone to live naked in the woods or something.

Instead, they had the house. And he spent the spoils of their many dangerous and filthy adventures on dramatic clothes and sumptuous furnishings and fine wine that he could barely even stomach. Uggie never complained. In material terms, she was a simple thing: she wanted a warm spot to curl up in like a cat, and good food to give her friends when they each fetched up from their disparate corners of Feyrun. Everything else, he could manage with whatever degree of extravagance suited him.

"It's a soiree," he pronounced it with a sharp and mocking edge, quoting, "to celebrate the end of the Lady Rosamond's third marriage." The invitation said it was for her friends to enjoy the talents of a local acrobatic troupe — an intimate little party of, oh, forty or so. She was already on the hunt for spouse number four, it seemed. Or else perhaps a fling for the season. Who could say.

"Charming," murmured Uggie. She sounded cynical but she was watching him wiggle into his new trousers very intently.

The leather trousers were so tight that if Astarion's body composition had changed by a kilogram, he'd have had to take them back to the tailor. He'd be the first to admit that vampirism did come with a few tiny little advantages. Not many. But some.

"Do you need help with that?" Uggie wondered. "...Cornflour, perhaps?"

"No, thank you," he assured her primly. But she bit her lip, and he watched it from the corner of his eye. How gratifying. "Do you think the red shirt, or the white?"

"I'm partial to the white. You're dressing to impress, I see," she mused.

Of course she was partial to the white one.

The white shirt was the wrong choice, objectively. His entire body was the white of sun-bleached bones, and the pale shirt would only make him look more pallid than ever. But he well knew how exotic that still seemed to her — a fully grown elf, pale like an etoliated plant struggling in the Underdark.

She liked it when he looked... vulnerable.

Astarion threw the red shirt back in the closet and went with the wrong choice. He wasn't above indulging her. And he didn't look bad in white. He had it on really excellent authority that he didn't look bad in anything.

"I always dress to impress. I can't help it — I'm impressive."

Once the shirt was on, he touched his hair, gently, trying to discern how it was falling without the help of a reflection. He had plenty of practice, but it never seemed to get much easier. Once upon a time, "artfully dishevelled" had been a choice.

"Come here," Uggie commanded.

He came to stand before her at the foot of the bed, barefoot and half dressed between her thighs, close enough that there was barely an inch between them.

An awareness of hunger hung in the air between them, like smoke in a drawing room.

Uggie held his gaze and imperiously pointed down to the ground. Obediently, he sank to his knees on the thick rug.

She teased apart the tumbling waves of his pale hair with fingers so deft he almost couldn't feel it. Almost. He'd seen her stare a man in the face and slowly bend his arm until the elbow snapped with those same fingers, but her tugging on his scalp was shockingly gentle. She was warm, too. This close, with his breath on the hem of her linen undershirt, he could feel the living warmth radiating out from her skin.

"I'm sure the crowds of Lady Rosamond's admirers will appreciate all the effort you're putting forward," she offered neutrally. "There. Your hair looks — as it usually does."

"Flawless, then." He rocked back to his feet, sending her pale hair fluttering around her ears in the disturbed air.

"Yes," she agreed placidly. Her deft fingers traced the laces of his trousers. "Always."

She said it like it wasn't flattery, or even a concession to the fickle demand of his ego. Placid, matter of fact.

Yes. Flawless. Always.

Ugh. He hadn't even meant it seriously, flippant even as it rolled off his tongue. But she did. Her sincerity was mortifying.

"I'm sure I'll have my own share of the admirers," he went on, licking his lips as he looked down upon her. For a moment, he thought, Why go out when I could stay in and feed from her? But then he remembered that the whole point of this ploy was that he should get to do both. Perhaps at the same time, even.

"Of course," she agreed.

He smoothed out her collar and trailed his fingers over her neck — over the powerful pulse of her heart — and manfully refrained from lunging in for a taste when she didn't even flinch. He touched her jaw instead, her cheek, her brow bone when she obligingly closed her eyes for him, her nose...

"You know you'd be welcome to come with me," he said, then, touching her mouth and feeling the gently draught of her breath over her soft, dry lips. "I'd like it if you did."

"Why?" she said, unmoving. This was a far cry from her usual response, which was, Thank you for extending the invitation. No. The question meant he'd already won.

"I want you to watch," he admitted.

He could feel her smile as well as see it. The tension in her mouth communicated itself right through his fingertips.

"You want me to watch what? Is there some kind of show?"

"Yes, actually," he said distantly. "Acrobats."

"Mm-hm," she said, and waited.

And waited.

He struggled with it for a moment. Almost gagging on the mortification of admitting it, he went tightly on to say: "Sometimes I want you to watch other people watching me."

Her eyes opened again, just a crack. Their orange burned like an unholy fire.

"You want me to see everyone else admire you," she said slowly, thinking it through. "You want to show off — you want me to show you off, so I can watch you swanning around in front of everyone else. You want to remind me that other people think you're beautiful, too?" Her eyebrows quirked. "Or do you just want to include me in your hobbies?"

She knew him awfully well, didn't she?

He was defensive about it, suddenly. His neck prickled with heat and humiliation, and it turned him savage.

"You don't have to put it light that," he hissed, ruffled like a cat nursing a stepped-on tail. "All I want is to go out to a nice little party and render everyone mentally ill with lust or envy. I don't care which. Is that so much to ask?"

He pulled his hand away from her face.

She caught it, lightning-fast.

Monks, he thought sourly. A rogue always thought he was the deftest man in the room. And then: monks.

She laid a kiss on his knuckles, her mouth midnight-dark against the stark pallor of his hand.

"Alright. I'll come out with you. Watch the show." Her lip caught ever so gently on his skin. "And," she added, glancing up to meet his eyes, "the acrobats, too."

If he'd had enough blood to really blush, his face would have been flaming.

I planned this, he reminded himself. He'd invited her in to watch him undress and dress again, knowing it would make her persuadable. This is a victory.

He just... wasn't used to this route of persuasion, exactly. Usually, when Astarion took his clothes off as a persuasive technique, what followed was not so... fraught and complex.

"Well," he said, watching Uggie cradle his hand. She pressed her thumbs into his palm and drew them up towards his fingers. It was a pleasant pressure. "Well, good."

Astarion felt mollified, but perhaps not victorious, exactly. He couldn't help the nagging sensation that he'd given up more than he'd intended in this exchange, that he'd revealed more than was wise about his motives.

He had this feeling a lot. Every time he opened his mouth, some days.

...But if Astarion had really given something indefinable and vital up to her today, well, he'd given a lot of himself up to a lot of people. At least he knew Uggie'd take good care of it.

#bg3 #my fic #once again tozette is attempting romance #uggie

[tumbleweed-run]

Benefits of Youth

Kinktober 2023 Day 30 Overstimulation (also age regression of Gale)

“This is certainly something new,” Astarion purrs from where he’s perched, sitting on the edge of the table in their dinning room.

Tav is watching wide eyed from the edge of room like she’s not quite sure what to make of the situation. 

Tara, like Astarion, is perched on the table but her body language reads annoyed. “Really, Mister Dekarios,” she tuts proving Astarion’s evaluation of her posture correct, “I had hoped we’d be long past this now.”

Gale is standing between the table and Tav, hands clasped in front of him looking a more than a little abashed at the situation. Of course, he has good reason to. The Gale in front of them is not their Gale. Well he is, just a much much younger version of himself. Astarion has never been very good at reading human ages, it’s gotten worse over the last hundred years, but this Gale is just barely an adult. 

“I assure you,” the voice almost sounds right, the finger punctuating the air is certainly correct, “all my mental faculties are the same. It seems the effect was strictly physical.” 

Tav looks a little more relieved, “so you’re still very much aware of everything that’s happened?”

Gale looks to her with soft eyes and takes a step towards her. “Yes, my love,” he takes her hand in his, “I know us. It’s just a small… hiccup.”

“Reversible?” Tav asks glancing down at their joined hands. 

She looks almost uneasy about this situation, which is odd. Astarion’s fairly certain she’s closer in age to this body than she is to his normal one. Then again, he could be wrong. 

Gale’s eyebrows knit together as he takes account of Tav’s discomfort finally. “Yes, hopefully, it will reverse in the next day as the spell wears off.”

“Hopefully?” Tara huffs, tail swishing. 

Gale swallows and turns so he can see her too. “Well, I can’t see why it wouldn’t.”

Tara leaps down from the table, tail still moving. “I’ll be back tomorrow then, don’t get into any trouble. I’ve already lived through several lives with this adolescent,” she sniffs the air irritatedly, “I will be back when the slightly more stable adult is back.”

“Tara…” Gale tries to call out to her but Tara ignores him and leaves the room. 

“I guess you’re all alone with us,” Astarion drawls, leaning forward to prop his chin onto his hand. He doesn’t hide the way he slides his eyes up and down the wizard’s body. It’s just for show. The robes he’s wearing are ill-fitting in this younger form. 

“Astarion,” Tav chides lightly but she also looks over Gale quickly. It’s more perfunctory than predatory. “How old are you?” she finally asks. 

“I’m fourt-”

“Gale,” Tav interrupts, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Nineteen? Twenty?” He relents with a shrug. Suddenly his eyes light up. “I have a scar about halfway up my back from an incident with a mud hulk. If I have it, then I’m correct, and this body is at the very least nineteen.”

“Yes, let's see,” Astarion goads, earning him a sharp look from Tav. 

Astarion knows the scar Gale is talking about, a small burnt-looking expanse of flesh that had long since returned to the same color as the rest of his skin. It was one of a handful of scars that littered the wizard’s skin, almost all were around the same age. Old enough to be explained away by a precocious youth. 

Gale pulls his robe off and the clothes beneath are just as ill-fitting. He was the right height and roughly the right shape, that much was true. But youthful Gale was rather scrawny, whereas their Gale had more muscle in some places and more flesh in others. It was like comparing a rough sketch to a masterpiece painting. 

Gale pulls off his shirt, and sure enough, the burn is there, but the flesh is new, pink, and shiny. It looks like something that happened a month ago rather than over a decade ago. 

“Well?” Gale asks as he tries to twist himself to see the patch of skin. His hair, which was longer than it normally was, falls into his face repeatedly. He quickly grows frustrated and blows a puff of air up at it.

“It’s there,” Tav tells him, looking a touch less put off by the situation. 

Astarion jumps up from the table and walks over to Gale. Gently, he places his hand on the scar. Gale shivers even as he leans into Astarion’s touch. 

Astarion gently rubs at the spot, “Isn’t that reassuring.”

Gale turns his head enough to look at him. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” he says but he doesn’t quite sound annoyed. 

“Like what?” Astarion feigns innocence, but he grins, wide enough his fangs are showing. 

“Like you want to eat me,” Gale pulls away just enough so that he can turn and attempt to glare at Astarion. 

Astarion laughs and leans back towards Gale. “Darling, you are exactly the kind of boy I would have devoured,” he purrs, their faces so close it’s hard to keep their noses from bumping. “At precisely the time you looked like this, if I’m not mistaken,” he adds. 

Gale swallows audibly. “Well,” he says, “then let's be glad we did not cross paths until we did.”

“Yes,” Astarion agrees, “let’s.”

He leans back enough to drag his eyes down Gale’s unmarred chest and lower. Astarion can’t suppress the wicked grin that breaks out when he finds Gale is already hard against the front of his pants. 

“Hello,” he allows his voice to go husky, and Astarion reaches out to pull against the waistband of Gale’s pants. 

Gale clears his throat and rolls his eyes, trying to look unaffected. “Yes, that’s to be expected. This body is that of a young man.”

“I will gladly help you with that,” Astarion realizes he sounds too eager, but he doesn’t care. 

Gale’s eyes narrow with suspicion. “That offer doesn’t sound as altruistic as you’d hope it would,” he accuses.

Astarion shrugs, “are you saying no?”

Gale’s head shakes quickly, hair swinging freely around his face. Astarion desperately wants to pull it. He’s fond of pulling their Gale’s hair but this is nearly a compulsive need. 

“And you, love?” Astarion turns his head towards Tav. 

She’s watching them intensely but hasn’t moved from her spot. Despite how her arms are crossed in front of her, she no longer looks uncomfortable. Instead, she now looks intrigued and only a little hesitant. 

“I’ll watch,” she says slowly, “for now.”

Gale looks over at her, and Astarion swears he can see his brain warring with his body. 

“Do I bother you like this?” He asks her finally. 

Tav sighs and drops her arms. “Not bother,” she says after a moment, “it’s just, strange. It’s something I need to get used to.”

“Well, you are certainly free to watch,” Astarion promises even as he begins undoing the ties of Gale’s pants. 

Gale’s attention is drawn back to him, eyes dropping down to watch as his pants slide to the ground. His cock was a familiar sight for Astarion, not much had changed there at least. He quickly drops to his knees and pulls Gale into his mouth. Gale curses and jumps, nearly falling backward.

Astarion pulls back and raises an eyebrow at him. “Maybe you should sit before we add a new scar,” he suggests. 

Gale nods and blindly reaches behind him for a chair. “Yes, yes, I think you’re right,” he agrees as he finally grabs onto a chair, falling into it less than gracefully once he pulls it around. “Though I am curious to see if something like that would appear as an old scar or a new-”

Whatever else the wizard had been about to say devolved into a guttural moan as Astarion sucks his cock back into his mouth. Gale is louder than normal, his body jerking a little with each bob of Astarion’s head. This is only encouragement to Astarion as he pushes the wizard’s thighs apart, gripping at the flesh there as he sucks eagerly. When Astarion moves his hand to cup Gale’s balls, the wizard nearly flies out of his seat. 

“Shit,” he curses above Astarion. 

Astarion begins gently fondling the other man as he sucks. He ignores the hand that threads into his hair. Gale is practically panting when Astarion decides to scrape his blunt teeth up his shaft. 

“Asta-” Once again Gale’s words are swallowed up by a moan as he comes. 

Astarion swallows as the wizard comes, only pulling off when there’s nothing more spilling out. 

“I was led to believe you had a wild youth,” he teases, dramatically wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Gale flushes red. “Ah, we are a few years too early,” he admits, still breathing heavily. 

Astarion is about to continue teasing when he realizes Gale hasn’t begun to soften at all. If anything, his cock is just as hard as it was just before he came. 

“The benefits of youth,” Gale says once he realizes what Astarion is looking at. 

Astarion nods and lewdly licks his lips, “Certainly.”

Gale’s body flushes an even deeper shade of red. 

“Oh, little apprentice,” Astarion all but growls, “I’m going to ruin you.”

~*~

They’ve managed to move into the bedroom at some point, and all of their clothing has been lost along the way. Somewhere between Gale’s second and third orgasm, Tav had joined them. Gale, who had perhaps been looking for a break from Astarion’s near-constant touching of him, had then spent a long while between her legs. 

He was still between her legs now, just not quite the same way. He was lying on his back between the v her legs, one arm hooked under her thigh, holding on for dear life. He’d really meant it when he promised to ruin him tonight. Gale had been sucked, fingered, and had fucked Astarion so far. Astarion was fingering the wizard again, kneeling between his legs. 

Gale was writhing with each thrust, fingers digging into Tav’s flesh. She was running her fingers through his sweat-slicked hair, cooing at him softly. Astarion was considering having Gale fuck her, but he knew he was running out of orgasms to wring from the other man, and he desperately wants to fuck him before the botched spell wears off. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” Astarion tells him as he withdraws his fingers, “and you’re going to come with my cock inside of you.” It’s an order, not a request. 

Gale shakes his head. “Astarion, there’s no more,” it’s the first coherent thing he’s said in nearly an hour. 

“There is,” Astarion tells him as he readjusts the pillow beneath Gale’s hips. Astarion might be wicked, but he isn’t evil. He looks at Tav and then quickly flicks his eyes down to Gale and then back up to her. She nods, understanding his meaning. 

Gale whimpers as Astarion pushes into him. Despite his protests, his cock twitches when Astarion’s bumps against his prostate, and he moans deeply. As he begins thrust, one of Gale’s legs hooks around the back of Astarion’s thighs, pulling him in. He grips Gale’s cock and begins stroking him in time with each of his thrusts. The wizard turns nearly incoherent again, babbling between his moans. 

“Shh,” Tav soothes, one hand moving to gently rub at Gale’s chest, “you can do this,” she reassures him. 

Gale quiets a little at her words. This isn’t her normal role in their dynamic, but she’s doing an admirable job of it. Astarion makes a note to reward her later, something preferably involving Gale when he reverts back. 

Astarion knows he won’t last much longer. His orgasm is a roaring fire inside his body. He’s been ignoring his own desires in favor of prolonging this, and now it feels as if it’s consuming him. He angles himself deeper, pushing up on one of Gale’s legs to do so. Each of his thrusts hits deep within the wizard now, slamming into that spot that has his eyes rolling back and Gale yelling until his voice is hoarse. 

Without warning, Gale screams, half of the sound lost to the broken edges of his throat, and his cock spasms in Astarion’s hand. It’s barely a dribble of cum that leaks from his cock, but it’s enough. Astarion releases him and focuses on chasing his own release. 

He finds it quickly, hips stuttering as he spills deep within Gale. He keeps himself buried deep, his grip biting bruises on the flesh beneath his fingertips. 

The muscles of Gale’s entire body are still twitching when Astarion pulls out of him. He’s panting, eyes closed as he leans into Tav’s gentle touches. He leans back and takes stock of the sight beneath him. 

To say Astarion ruined him is an understatement. Gale is beautiful in his youth. Covered in bruises, sweat, cum, and just a little bit of blood. But Astarion finds he misses his older body and the way it looks after sex. He’ll take this treat as it’s given, but he cannot wait for his normal to return.

#bloodweave #bloodweave x tav #gale x astarion #kinktober 2023 #overstimulation #sorry i kept imagining Astarion fucking young gale within an inch of his life #this seemed like the best way to achieve that #one more day bestiesss

[wordtotherose]

An arm crosses her chest, fingers pushing at her side to turn her around and she does, stiffly, fists clenched over the hilts of her spare daggers still. It probably isn't the most intimidating she's ever looked, what with having spilt a spoonful of broth down her comfy shirt earlier and her hair freshly washed and thus falling in ridiculously long damp waves everywhere. She hopes that she looks a little feral, at least.

"Well! That's us for today, I think!" Astarion says with false amounts of cheer, arm now firmly braced across her back and hand guiding her towards him, his body curving ever so slightly to accommodate her. He waves over their pressed together shoulders to the reporter who'd interrupted their dinner. "Good luck with the writing and all that shit. Bye now!"

He faces forward and starts walking them both to the bar across the room, pushing Elizia gently onto one of the bar stools and taking the one next to her. His hand moves to uncurl her fingers from the dagger at her waist and gives her himself to clutch at instead. She loosens her grip enough to let him, and not to crush his fine bones together. She does prefer those fingers unbroken.

Continue Reading on AO3 or below the cut

He doesn't try to talk to her about it yet, instead securing them a couple of cups of wine. He sips his calmly, gaze wandering around what he can see of the room whilst she stares at her own drink as if she can make it taunt her into a fight if she just glares enough. Irritation still itches under her freckled skin and she can't stop her leg from bouncing what with the need for a fight still raging. A more detached part of her wonders if this is how Karlach feels everytime she enters a rage. Fucking understandable that she goes until she passes out then, Elizia thinks.

Astarion hums thoughtfully next to her and for a brief moment she thinks she's spoken aloud and the anger's hold slips slightly but he's just swilling the wine around in its cup, studying it as he always does with his alcohol.

He notices her looking and sends her a small smile, a genuine one, the kind that invites her into his joke rather than keeping her on the outside of it like he used to.

He tips his cup into hers and says, "tastes like shit".

Her breath leaves her in a rush and her body relaxes. Her forehead hits the unfortunately sticky bar with a thump and Astarion's quiet laugh rumbles up her spine, low and warm.

"And you call me dramatic," he says with a squeeze of her hand before letting go.

"You are," she grumbles into the bartop.

"Can't hear you when you're talking into a table, pet."

With a deeply felt sigh she sits up and looks him dead in his damnably impish eyes. "Yes you damn well can. You heard me call you an idiot across the bloody docks yesterday."

He smiles wishfully as if reminiscing of the moment. "I do recall you called me pretty too, though."

"I said 'at least' you're pretty. It was really much more insult than compliment."

He shrugs with a laugh and takes a drink. "At least I wasn't pulling my blades on an innocent member of the press in a crowded inn. Ooo there's something fun there with blades...maybe I should go find them and let them have it to make their headline. No? The look you're giving me, darling, makes me think you'd rather I didn't."

She narrows her eyes further. "What gave it away?" She asks through gritted teeth.

"I know your hearing isn't quite as good as mine but I do think you heard the bit about your face- oh and now you're also holding that cup far too tightly to be good for it, that also gives it away."

She slams the now-empty cup down and turns to face him, her knees knocking into his on the way.

"They were asking if I thought this whole fucking mess had been in a way 'good for business'! And went on to insinuate I was your madam. So no! I don't want to help them!"

"Well that's not quite how they put it."

"Astarion."

His smile softens and he spins to face her, taking her hands in both of his. "They were an idiot. It happens. Frequently around us, might I add, I'm honestly not sure how you manage to attract such riff-raff so easily. Yes, see, a glare like that and you'd think they'd take off for the hills."

She rolls her eyes but does let his gentle hold soothe as it is intended to. "You didn't."

"In our case it's most definitely you who should have ran far away considering I had every intention of killing you."

She shrugs. "You had good reasons, I could respect it."

He grins and brings one of her hands to his lips, a kiss pressed almost hard to the back of her fingers, it's grounding. It's nice.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm," she lets herself have one last deep sigh before shaking herself out of it; her hair scatters around her and Astarion's eyes follow it falling over her eyes.

He quirks a brow at her, teasing and sweet in all its imperiousness, as she looks up at him through the fiery curtain now in her way. "Any shot you know how to braid hair?"

He blinks once. Twice. "You- Yours?"

She nods. "It's easier with help."

His fingers twitch in hers in the way she's learning to associate with anxiety stemming from intimacy. She hadn't thought ahead about what she was asking but now she could see it how he might and winced.

"You don't have to, of course, even if you do."

There's another beat of silence between them, filled by the general hubbub of the inn's main floor around them. She waits, pressing her thumb into the palm of his hand in the way she knows he likes, a silent reminder that he's here and in his own, free, body. His trademark smile comes back as if it never left, quick as a flash he's letting go of her hands to tug and rearrange her hair as if taking its measure.

"I'm certain I can make a decent job of it, even if it has been a while. Certainly better than Wyll did for Shadowheart the other week."

Elizia cracks a smile, leaning away and pushing herself to her feet. "Is that your standard of a good braid? Really? I'm not sure I want to let you near my hair if so."

He follows, grinning with those sharp fangs just visible. "I'll take good care of you, my love, have no fear."

She deliberately misaims a kick to his shin, causing him to dance a step away.

"Oh that's how we're feeling tonight? Still got some of that energy pent up I see!"

This time she doesn't miss and he squawks before catching up to her on the stairs, pulling her down a step to hold her against him, arms wrapped around her stomach. Her stomach swoops at the sudden movement and she tips her head back onto his shoulder, eyes closed as he noses at her neck through her hair.

"Hells, we really do need to sort this don't we."

"Oh no," she says, voice dripping with sarcasm as she pats his forearms in a signal to be let go, he steadies her before she continues climbing, "lost easy access to my neck have we?"

"I can always rely on you to sympathise, darling."

"Hair first, biting after."

"Always so eager, aren't you?"

"I'm serious, I just washed it all, I don't need you getting blood back into it."

"It's already red, you'd never notice."

"Astarion."

A huff and then he's moving in front to dig the key to their room out of his trouser pocket.

"Yes, alright, I suppose I see the sense in it."

Door open, she leans up to kiss his cheek before slipping into the room first to hunt for the hairbrush and comb. "It normally takes about an hour but with help maybe only half that!"

From the doorway there's a dramatically put-upon groan.

#my writing #fanfic #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #astarion x oc #astarion x tav #i like to think i write okay #okay enough to have fun myself at least #love writing these at work #basically getting paid to in a roundabout way without actually breaking copyright laws #joyous

[meggsssart]

Finally finished the outfits & character sheet for my Durge, Freiya. I’m really attached to her and have lots and lots of headcanons, but for now I’ve just explained some of my design choices for her! Some things were random (like the black eyes and the tattoo, they just look cool…), other things had a little thought, like how she would have scars from Kressa’s experiments, and how the shape of the Wavemother’s robe is absolutely not designed with underwear in mind, and you’d flash everyone every time you moved your legs!

She’s in a relationship with Astarion (hence the shirt), mainly because I’m a sucker for their dynamic. She has rejected Bhaal, and him Ascension - meaning they are both free to make their own choices in life, but would have absolutely no idea what they want or how to go about it. I would even argue that Astarion would have more of an idea of who he is than Freiya, because although he was under Cazador’s control, he at least kept his personality. Freiya lost almost all of her memories and every aspect of who she was, only to later discover she was an evil, mass-murderer sadist who grew up in a secret murder cult. So, I like the dynamic of them trying to figure out who they really want to be now that they have a chance to start over, and how they would go about discovering that together :)

Anyway, I’ll post more of my headcanons with drawings as they come :)

Bhaal’s chosen: has a bodice similar to Orin’s, just because I liked the idea of them copying and trying to out-do each other (moreso on Orin’s part). Aimed to look intimidating, a little bit elegant but not as heavy on the jewellery and detail as Orin’s outfit. 

She used to enjoy leaving the gore of her kills all over her clothes, but began to do this less and less after becoming ‘involved’ with Gortash, who points out how much she reeks of blood and death. While Freiya doesn’t care, he educates her about building her image (and he is also personally put-off by it when they start to become more than colleagues).

Adventuring outfit/post-nautiloid: based on the shape of the Wavemother’s robe as that’s what she spent the entire game in, but without the nautical aspects, and with underwear that means she can move around without flashing everyone.

Underwear/sleep: practical underwear that looks good with her main dress. Once in an established relationship, she takes to ‘borrowing’ Astarion’s shirts to sleep or lounge around in.

Camp clothes/city: standard Drow leathers around camp, the sharp edges and dark leathers are familiar and comfortable to her. 

Once they reach Baldur’s Gate, she is excited by all of the beautiful, colourful, flowy dresses. She explores different clothing options, and leans into wearing more soft, feminine clothing as opposed to the dark colours and intimidating armour she wore in the cult. It’s all about embracing her new identity as someone who can do good, sometimes to the point of over-compensation as she grapples with who she is.

She takes a particular interest in elven-made garments, as she feels a detachment to that part of herself, given she is physically elven but not culturally. Bhaal made her an elf almost as a mockery - creating something stereotypically beautiful, elegant and otherworldly, only for its purpose to be a sadistic murderer.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 the dark urge #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #the dark urge spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 oc #my art #trigger warning blood #tw blood

[blackjackkent]

I actually kind of like this one for Hector? The Solemnity outfit he was wearing is really pretty but honestly more fancy than something Hector would normally wear, but this (Comfortable Ashmeadow Outfit in his usual Black and Azure dye) looks much more like something in his wheelhouse.

With that in mind, wandered around to everyone else in the camp and reassigned everyone else's camp clothes as well. Final results:

Karlach is now wearing Hector's Solemnity outfit, which spontaneously developed a boob window which shows off the infernal engine. She and Hector are now in matching colors again, which is the height of romance.

Shadowheart gets the Opalescent outfit that Karlach was wearing, now in "Muddy Red" dye. Still a fairly dignified color palette while evolving a little away from the all-black of her Shar days. I actually really like this outfit but there are only a few dyes it really works with, since anything too bright makes you immediately look like a marching band drum major. I think this is a good vibe for her though.

Jaheira gets "Swarthy Wanderer" in my old favorite "Ocean" dye, which just looks tremendous on her. Ocean looks good on everyone, but I love this deep teal on her, and this shirt looks like well-worn road clothes while still looking much more comfortable than the tight vest she was wearing previously.

Lae'zel gets the Lionheart outfit in "Black and Jade Green". I honestly expected to struggle with getting a good look out of this outfit, but it actually looks surprisingly good in a surprising number of colors (which in this game is unusual). This feels like a slight step up, fashion-wise, from her just hanging around camp in her bra (which I only realized now literally was her just wearing an outfit that was only pants), while still allowing her to show off the girls to good effect. I really like the muted teal on her too; it goes well against her hair.

Gale gets another version of the Solemnity outfit. This is one we bought directly in this color from Carm; it's labeled as "Solemnity Outfit in Purple," but when I use any of my currently owned purple-adjacent dyes, I get a different result, so I can only assume this is dyed with some dye that I have not yet encountered and is therefore particularly fancy and valuable. I think Gale looks rather dignified in it.

OK look. Hear me out. This outfit used to be Shadowheart's, but it looks really good on Astarion when re-dyed in Black and Furnace Red (which seems to have some gold accents also?). Gives him a nice broad look across the shoulders with the patterning, and lets him show off the guns, too. I think the sleek look is something he would gravitate towards; I tried putting him in some of the looser-fitting, "soft" shirts (i.e. Gale's starting outfit) and he just sort of looked uncomfortable.

Wyll gets the Splendid oufit, dyed in Black and Summer Green. He's the only one of the group with an actual fancy background (except maybe Gale by some definitions) and his starting clothes define him as having "good-humored performativity", and so it fits that he should get the fanciest clothes. I really like the look of the silver on black and that green is just a nice, comfortable color. Sadly, at high-rez the fabric looks like it would be scratchy af to wear, but beauty hath its costs.

None of the remaining shirts from Carm looked particularly good on Halsin so we will have to do more fashion hunting for him. I didn't want him to feel left out though so he's wearing Astarion's old outfit for now, dyed in Sage Green - which actually doesn't look half bad on him.

All of this is subject to future change, of course, if we find other fancy stuff to dress everyone in. I will keep you all apprised. ;)

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #fashion show! #oh god it's 1:30 am go to bed roz