#tailor tav

[scuttlingcrab]

After rereading the last two installments of the Tailor Tav™️ saga, where Raphael crosses paths with her at a ball and where he reaffirms his desire to commission another piece from her, and the unrelated (I'm assuming) piece where Raphael tries to gift Tav something, I can't help but picture how Raphael would react to Tav teaching him a bit of her craft—at least the non-magical parts of it. Maybe she can use an offer to teach him as part of a bargain with him to free her from the stipulations that ban her from creating for anyone other than Raphael himself? (also I just love the idea of this devil and his a mortal having something like a shared hobby together and/or Tav being a gracious teacher who doesn't belittle Raphael's early efforts when they inevitably aren't quite as perfect as he'd hope, but I'm getting ahead of myself here; just wanted to let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind)

Tailor Tav™️ is back! I've been looking forward to this one for awhile and really hope you enjoy! Thanks for filling my inbox with gems like this! x

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

Notes: Based on A Perfect Fit, Dressed to Kill, Shadowy Deals, and Dance with the Devil. Tailor Tav™️ has also appeared in a few other one-shots, hehe.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

Trial by Fire

(Image via red-dead-sakharine)

“Will you hold still?” Tav asked, her voice on the edge of frustration. 

She quickly put out the growing flames with a spell, stopping the fire before it began to overtake the rest of the table. 

Raphael sat sourly beside her, completely out of place in her tent. He had humiliated himself, feeling like an outright fool for the first time in over a thousand years. He held a charred piece of clothing in his hands, the fine material ruined due to his shoddy needlework and rising temper. Somehow Raphael not only failed to join together the fabric, but had created a stitch so crooked and tangled that nothing could be done to reverse his mistakes. The Devil would need to start over. Again. 

He shifted in the wooden seat, raising his hand as he prepared to snap his fingers, hoping to erase the day’s mortification permanently from his memory. Just looking at the wretched garment left a bitter taste in his mouth. Tav cleared her throat, her own scolding gaze rivalled Raphael’s disposition, causing him to lower his hand back to the table. 

Raphael’s seat was still smoking, the top of the wood charred from his last outburst. He impatiently drummed his fingers on the tabletop, small scorch marks growing blacker with the increasing tempo as he waited for Tav to continue.

“No magic, Raphael.” Tav said, the exasperation had disappeared from her tone, only kindness and patience remained, which pained Raphael more. “Now please, try not to melt this needle. It’s my last one.”

Tav placed the needle in her open palm, extending it towards Raphael. 

“I will do my best, but I cannot make any guarantees.” Raphael responded through tight lips, carefully retrieving the needle.

They’d been at it for hours, each minute that dragged on grew heavier on Raphael’s shoulders; weighing him down more than his increasing responsibility to secure the Crown of Karsus. Raphael had watched Tav carefully, making precise notes and calculations on how to anchor a thread and initiate the first stitch, yet his infernal hands could not grasp such a simple mortal notion. 

He must’ve burned over a hundred articles of clothing since he began, slowly depleting Tav of her resources as he struggled to amend his previous errors. He vowed to himself not to leave Tav’s tent until he conquered sewing, until he successfully made himself a basic tunic devoid of any flaws. He would never dare let that little mouse beat him at anything. 

Raphael was practically perfect, he wasn’t afraid to admit it. If he could, he would proclaim it from the highest mountain top for all living beings to hear. The Devil was a master connoisseur, and above all, a jack of all trades. He had to be in this line of work; after all, how else did he get so far without even an ounce of assistance from his beloved father, Mephistopheles? 

He prided himself in his studies, in the relentless work and countless hours of preparation done to lay the foundations for his future. He shadowed only the greatest painters, memorised the intricacies of politics from every realm, and even went so far as to read all the noteworthy books that have been published throughout the millennia; but nothing prepared him for the horrors of being a tailor. The job required an old fashioned sensibility, a delicate handmade approach to see any design through to completion. 

Tav leaned towards Raphael, lightly placing her hands over his in an attempt to guide him. He stiffened slightly at her soft touch as she began to lift his hands. Raphael discretely tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at Tav without bringing anymore attention to himself. 

The Devil needed to concentrate, but he found himself momentarily distracted as his eyes fell on a small pale scar that decorated her chin. Raphael’s high standards for his own appearance allowed him to grow obsessed with others’ imperfections; finding more beauty in mortal flaws than in their perfect physiques or conventional facial features. Tav had a peculiar allure about her that made Raphael’s attraction flourish the longer he spent in her presence.

She brought a dark piece of thread to her lips, wetting the tip of it with her tongue before placing it in Raphael’s hand. He carefully watched the act, something so mundane had a hidden layer of intimacy attached that caused his heart to unexpectedly flutter. 

Raphael took a long deep breath to calm himself, there was a risk Tav might feel his body temperature rise as his heart continued to slam against his chest, beating faster and faster like a cursed infernal engine. He slowly took in Tav’s scent, savouring the notes of cloves and roses, now mixed with just a hint of perspiration.

“OK…” Tav whispered, causing Raphael to unwillingly pull his gaze away from her. “Thread the needle, just like we practised.” 

Tav’s grip tightened as she helped Raphael push the thread carefully through the eye of the needle. She let out a loud sigh as it went through with ease, shocking them both.

“I will pretend I didn’t hear that.” Raphael responded, dryly.

“You nearly burned down my tent, twice, in the last hour! Please allow me this moment to celebrate.”

Raphael’s nostrils flared as his seat began to smoke underneath him.   

“No offence, of course.” Tav added, quickly taking the thread and needle away from Raphael, “you’ll get it, eventually. Practice makes perfect, right?”

“Bah! Petty mortal idioms are of no use to me. We will continue, I have yet to learn what lies beneath the expertise of your craft.” 

Tav hesitated, cradling the needle and thread in her hands. 

“Listen, how about we take a break, yeah? I’m spent. With any luck you’ll finish this first piece within a fortnight.” 

“And is that how long it typically takes you to complete this type of labour?”

“Gods no! Half a day, maybe one at most. Of course, it depends what else I’ve got going on when I’m not fighting my way through Faerûn.” Tav grinned back at Raphael. 

The Devil held back a gasp. He had wasted an entire day catering to Tav’s ludicrous games and didn’t have a single piece of clothing finished to prove himself. Mortals cannot be trusted, even when their very souls were at stake they’d be foolish enough to risk it all if it meant satisfying their own agendas. 

“I’ve had enough of this blatant display of tomfoolery.” Raphael stood dramatically, pushing back the chair as he walked towards the tent's entrance.

The instant Raphael learned Tav went against her word, having the audacity to craft clothing for anyone but him, he nearly sent a torrent of Hellfire down on her camp. He had discovered the little mouse’s betrayal from Korrilla’s reports, his resentment spreading as he read through the detailed descriptions again and again. Tav had gifted all her companions garments ranging from nightgowns to luxurious capes, outfits that belonged to him. Tav went so far as to give out her clothing for free to random mortals she encountered on her travels. The little mouse had truly taken Raphael for a fool.

Raphael released his blistering rage on Korrilla, blaming the dwarf for her ineptitude and Tav's errors. For every piece of clothing Tav made in breach of contract, he added an extra day to Korrilla’s penance; temporarily stripping Korrilla of all Warlock powers and forcing her to train his latest apprentice, Dolofina. He even denied her use of his healing baths until she truly learned her lesson.  

When Raphael summoned Tav to his House of Hope, demanding an explanation, he was instead met with another proposition. Tav would teach him her craft in exchange for her freedom from the stipulations of their agreement, relinquishing the creative ban Raphael had set in place.

“Just give it another chance. You will soon appreciate the work that goes into making garments, I promise you.”

“These idle promises are waning, little mouse. The terms have yet to be honoured.” 

“Gods, don’t you understand? You will still get exclusive clothing. You think I would dare make another doublet like yours? That was my greatest work, and I only hope to do better with your next piece.” Tav paused, rising to meet Raphael at the entrance. “But I need to make a living.”

“You think life will just return to normal after the Elder Brain is destroyed? A foolish fancy.”

“I have a shop waiting for me in the Lower City, collecting dust. I’ll be damned if I let it go to waste when this is all over.”

“Your little shop is meaningless against what I can offer you in exchange.”

Tav nodded, almost considering the possibility, the future they’d share together.

“As nice as that sounds I’d get bored eventually.”

Raphael titled his head, a smile slowly loosening his lips. He was surprised at how little anger he felt at that moment; in contrast to the fury he experienced throughout the day, a growing warmth rose in his chest. He took a step towards Tav, towering over her as he admired her grit. The little mouse was mighty, ferocious, and would not back down so easily. The Devil was very much looking forward to this fight.

“Mortals, ever so fickle.” 

He placed a hand on his hip, studying the tent that was close to shambles. But of course. It only made sense he failed learning to sew on the first attempt, such mortal professions were beneath him, unbefitting for his station and ability for comprehension. It would require more thought, more time. 

And what more did Raphael need to do in order to impress that creature? He held all the most important cards close to his chest, allowing no one else to peek behind the curtains. Perhaps there was something else he could dangle in front of her? Something more enticing, causing her to drop everything in allegiance to him.

Every great hero has their foibles and Raphael would discover Tav’s soon enough, as he did with all the others that came before her. Not only would he acquire the proper skills of her craft, but he would crack her open, dissecting every inch of that soul in the process.

“Very well. We will continue again at first light. And this time, I expect to leave with a finished tunic.”

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

[indimiart]

concept: tailor Astarion who makes beautiful dresses for his beautiful husband and then loses his marbles when said husband tries them on

that’s it that’s all I got

#bg3 #astarion #tailor Astarion #nievan ilthurin #I love tailor Astarion so much listen #he makes dresses and beautiful things and tav tries them all on and Astarion’s like damn #I’m supposed to SELL that #anyway #baldurs gate 3 #baldur’s gate 3 #baldurs gate fanart #tavstarion #bg3 tav #tav #bg3 astarion #tav x astarion #please ignore how wonky this comic looks idk why it’s so crooked

[bloodsoeur]

the gate girl!dadstarion, 1.5k

He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too. He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail.  - astarion is a school-gate dilf on his first pick-up adventure with you. wc: 1.5k a/n: dadstarion fridays! wooooo! hope you enjoy - love, dal x

“Come on. We’ll be late.”

Your hand meets his with a toothy grin.

Astarion teeters a little.

He knows vaguely where the building is - he’s sure he’s passed it on one of his late night jaunts - but you’re coming along too. 

He knows he’s prepared for this moment, down to the most minute detail. 

Weeks spent designing the overcoat now covering his clothes - almost feltish in texture, a deep blue with gentle golden threading. Brass buttons. The smallest red ribbon detailing in the seams. The fit is immaculate, despite the fact he had to take his own measurements. The gloves match beautifully, just as he’d intended.

Shoes polished within an inch of their lives. Shirt and trousers pressed to perfection. Hair neatly coiffed with assistance from your gentle hands.

He grimaces.

“She’s going to think I’m weird.”

“Is this for her, or you?’

He takes a moment. Examines both sides of his glove with a flex. Sniffs pointedly. 

‘She’s not going to think you’re any weirder than she already does. She’s your little freak.” You grab at his sides playfully and he shimmies around your clutches, breaking into a timid laugh. 

The dark skies of Deepwinter are primed to allow Astarion his first ever school pick-up. 

He hasn’t slept, you know that. Bag in hand holding the gift he’d spent the short day hidden away working on. Your matching scarves around your necks. The biting chill beyond the threshold of your hearth.  

Eyes round in a contemplative lax as his hand rests atop the door handle. 

“I’m being stupid, aren’t I?”

Your eyes roll fondly into your skull.

“Yes. Now, get moving.” 

It takes you enclosing your hand in his for the door to open, immediately facing a brutal fracas of ice-cold winds lapping at your face. 

“How in any realm is a child expected to walk home in this? Ridiculous!” He shuffles from foot to foot as he chunters while you lock the door and pocket the key, looking up to the stars.

“With a coat. And gloves. And…’

You point to the bag in his hand as you interlink your arms.

‘A scarf.’

Astarion gives a small smile, pressing a chaste kiss to your head.

‘Come on, now. We might get there in time to see her out the door.”

-

The walk there isn’t the leisurely gander Astarion had dreamt of when he’d thought of this moment. 

In his head it was always late summer. Sunblushed.

And yet as you turn your head to him in your giddy half-canter; cheeks flush and breath clouding the space around your perfect head, he can’t believe he ever imagined it any other way.

The stars overhead are familiar as they always have been. The slightest slippy tread of frost on the cobble. Windows around you lit with candles and the loud taverns you pass en-route seem well hunkered-down.

He finds himself pulling you closer with each corner turned, stumbling to keep with your gait.

And then, there it is.

A huddle of parents waiting out in the cold, hands rubbing together; a low hum of chatter. School gates still closed. When you greet some of them with familiarity - one or two even getting a hug as you make your way to your preferred circle - and introduce him as your husband, his heart swells. 

He didn’t realise you were friends with these people. That these fellow parents could be people to have anything in common with in the first place. Astarion is hardly the enigma he used to be within the city walls and they know of him. They know you’re with him.

But none have ever seen him in the flesh.

There’s a minute where he ponders what they think of him. How you’d described him, how they may have looked at your daughter under the orange gloaming light of Leaffall and wondered which features of hers came first from him as opposed to you. How they’d pieced him together in their minds.

He feels a little out of place as you chatter - hyper aware of each stolen glance in his direction. The whites of new eyes flickering in the darkness. 

It isn’t often he meets new people anymore. Even his client roster is exclusive. 

“Why would I tell you how good-looking he is when he isn’t even here to hear it?”

He tunes back in. They all look, you included.

“Hm?”

“Marta-’ 

A faux accusatory glance on your face as you look over to the human who - Astarion presumes - is Marta. 

‘Asked why I hadn’t told the group just how attractive you are.”

The way the most blinding smile breaks over your ruddied cheeks. He melts behind a scoff.

“Actually darling, Marta has a point. I’m hurt, frankly.”

Gods. They’re all laughing. Your gaggle of school-gate friends and he has them laughing.

“No, it’s just dark. See him by light. Then you’ll change your minds.”

You huddle closer despite the brazen lie and the group laughs away. He throws in a small chuckle for good measure and presses a kiss to your head once more.

They’re all relatively harmless, he decides.

What do school gate friends do? Why have you never invited them over for wine or something? 

“I mean - Astarion, what do you think?”

“Hm?”

“They’re showing a rather keen interest to come over one evening for dinner. Inconspicuous, I’m sure.” 

He looks around warily. Can they read his mind? Is someone here a weird school gate mind reader freak? What the fuck?

Your eyes narrow at Marta in jest.

Oh.

If you’re even showing the slightest hint at wanting the doting husband, the doting husband he will give you. Freely and willingly. Far too easily. Naturally.

“Oh! Whatever you want, my love. Anything.”

Astarion takes your head in his hands and brings you close for a warm kiss, eyes softening as he holds you in place. A gentle smile against the harsh wind.  

“What’s in the bag?” Another asks in a jarring fettle. Your head whips round. He answers softly. 

“I- I made the little one a scarf.” 

A coo arises from those huddled around the two of you. 

“He’s a tailor. A good one, too. Really good.” 

You nod with a smile, looking at him. You’re mid-cycle and the idea of your daughter spotting him with those big eyes makes you a bit weak.

A saccharine voice from somewhere in the mix - “He’s immaculate, honey. I’m a little jealous?” 

If he can blush, Astarion feels one coming on. This feels staged. 

“He can’t take his shoes off without kicking them up the wall. Or catch spiders.”

-

As you resume your quiet chatter amongst the group, Astarion catches the door open in the near distance and a soft amber glow pouring from it from the corner of his eye.

It’s a trance. He looks over the heads obscuring his view, the tips of his toes touching the ends of his pristine shoes. 

And there she is.

Absolutely perfect. Small, searching the crowd for the parent she knows will be here.

Then she sees him.

It’s not difficult from afar, even in the dark - she recognises the shock of white hair anywhere - and the look of sheer confusion painted on her face shifts to unfettered joy in seconds.

Gods. She’s running. Tiny legs, bag flailing in her hand. Shouting-

“DADDY!”

As she hurtles towards him, he realises he’s never seen her run like this. She can’t run like this in the house. It’d be enough to make him sad if he weren’t so wholly elated.

He crouches just in time for her to barrel into his open arms.

The way he cups the back of her head is as if he hasn’t seen her in years, spinning her as he stands and holds her at his hip. She’s babbling something wicked and all of it sounds like utter nonsense and he’s so besotted it doesn’t even matter.

His little girl, out in the world. Being a person. 

And it’s him that she chooses to run to. 

“Charming! Hello love!” You shuffle closer and plant a large kiss on the back of her head, taking the bags from her hand and hoisting them up over your back in a routine twirl.

You take Astarion’s hint of a glance toward his bag and roll your eyes fondly, feeling for the scarf and slipping it back into his hand.

“My little darling! Hello! I have something for you - close your eyes.”

He haphazardly wraps the scarf around her neck with one hand as she bristles against his hip, wiggling her shoulders in some impromptu happy dance.

“Look now! You match us!” He exclaims. 

She opens her eyes and squeals with glee you haven’t seen at the school gate before, ever.

And true to his word, the scarf wholly matches both of yours. Embroidered with small golden stars on navy fabric. Her name in some immaculate loopy hand. Far too big for her at present, but warm on this coldest of evenings.

“I love it daddy. I want another one.” She nods acutely and smatters his face in small kisses. 

As you look to Astarion, he raises both brows in amusement at her request. She tucks her head in under his chin.

“Come along now. Let’s get you warm by the fire.”

✦

#my writing #astarion x reader #dadstarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #tav x astarion #dadstarion fridays #tailor dadstarion

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue Ultimate master list

Prequel Under the Sun Again Master list

Summary: Tav and Astarion set out on adventures all across Faerûn. One-shot format that encompasses the span of 50 years after the event of the game.

*In the style of one-shots that highlight some adventures*

Warnings: NSFW 18+, blood, violence, character harm, mentions of SA, smut, trauma bonding, graphic depictions of violence.

An Adventure in Making Life (Complete)

Summary: Tav and Astarion set out on a new adventure when they find out that vampires can get mortals pregnant. Takes place 50 years after the events of the game.

*The one that started it all written in second person*

Warnings: NSFW 18+, blood, violence, character harm, mentions of SA, smut, trauma bonding, graphic depictions of violence, pregnancy, birthing scene.

Sequal: To the Ends of Faerûn

Summary: So much has changed since then Astarion changed careers and is now a tailor while Tav runs the counter. While their daughter attends Gale’s School of Wizardry. That's right their daughter. Everything is going smoothly until something dark threatens to destroy all of Faerûn and it's up to Astarion, Tav, and their Daughter to stop it from happening.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, blood, violence, character harm, mentions of SA, smut, trauma bonding, graphic depictions of violence, threats of harm to children.

#astarion #astarion dad #astarion fluff #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #baldur’s gate tav #astarion tailor #pregnant tav #tav #astarion fic #baldur’s gate fanfiction #astarion fanfic #my fic #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #angst with a happy ending #angst #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 astarion #vampire

[theyoutubedork]

just a small little tailor! Astarion x bounty hunter!reader I’ve been working on lately, let me know what you think, do you want the rest?

“That I can believe,” you chuckle, turning your head to look at the coat. “I love the color you chose. A little on the nose though, don’t you think?” You look back to meet his gaze, and are surprised to find him already looking at you, a dangerous smirk on his lips.

“Have I ever been the kind to practice subtlety?” his voice lowers to low timbre, “and last I recall, you liked me in red, darling.” His words makes you bristle, your shoulders straightening, cheeks flushed. You remember the exact moment you told him that. It was when he woke you in the middle of the night, pleading eyes asking for your blood.

You had stared at him for what felt like a decade, weighing your options. When he bit his bottom lip in such a tantalizing, hungry manner, you had felt your blood rush to your ears.

“O-okay, I suppose a small taste is fine..” your finally reply, your signature scowl falling into a pout. Astarion noticed this and finally let go of the door flap of your tent. He sauntered over, towering over you and brushed your cheek with his deft fingers. You shiver when his cold skin makes your skin prickle with anticipation.

“Relax dear, I want you to be comfortable,” he whispered lowly into your ear, and you heard him inhale your scent deeply, and couldn’t help the shuddered gasp that you let out. His hand moves to your jaw, craning your neck to the side, as he takes a deep breath in before grazing his teeth over your skin.

“Oh you smell divine..” He mutters more to himself.

“Star-“ the nickname falls from your lips but interrupted by the sensation of his gleaming fangs piercing your soft flesh and you let out a small gasp.

#Astarion #Astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion ancunin x reader #astarion x tav #tailor!astarion #tailor!astarion x bounty hunter! reader #tailor!astarion x bountyhunter!reader #work in progress #wip

[timaeusterrored]

Obsessed with Tailor! Astarion and keep thinking about Venus going through the camp, finding things for him to fix, going as far as to literally take Vincent’s robe off of him while he’s wearing and Vincent is like “hello???” And Venus is like “Star wants to fix it but hasn’t said anything.” And then drops it all off at Astarion’s tent and sits with him while he mends things.

#HAVE YALL SEEN THE ACE ASTARION STUFF #ITS GONNA MAKE ME CRY #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur’s gate astarion #Tav: Venus #Tav: Vincent #tailor! Astarion #tailor Astarion

[marineverdancy]

If you told me during early access that in the full release of the game my paladin tav and Astarion would eventually have a very sweet and loving romance I would have laughed in your face, because it sure looked like mutually assured destruction to me

(EDIT 10/10/2023: tweaked some colors to make the image more readable. Plus Astarion wasn’t corpse-like enough so I fixed that)

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #dwarf tav #kind of anyway #my drawings #Ylem Taylor #hesitantly making a character tag for her (not entirely sold on her last name yet but it’s a solid maybe) #(her last name is Taylor bc her dad. is a tailor.)

[sansevierias]

i found it a bit amusing that tav was wearing fancier clothes than astarion in the epilogue. can't help but to imagine that astarion made the outfit, but ran out of time to make his own, so he just decorated one of his old jackets with silver paint.

#i know astarion is wearing that outfit bcs #it's to show the contrast between his spawn and ascension versions #(if he ascends he wears a super fancy outfit similar to tav's) #but i just really like the tailor astarion headcanon lol #tbf 6 months + however long the game took probably isn't quite enough to get your skills to that level #(if he started from just mending clothes) #but maybe tav's outfit was bought and it was originally a lot simpler #and astarion added some extra embroidery :) #bg3 txt #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 spoilers

[queenerdloser]

reading baldur's gate fic is so funny to me sometimes because almost every single tav i've read is like. a nerd. awkward. stuck in a library/commune/forest and doesn't know How To Do People. combat unready. a wee paper slip of a person. self-doubting and uncertain.

whereas i am out here with my bard who dumped all her stats in charisma and perception and therefore is no longer able to fail a persuasion check. and my personal backstory for her is that she's an insanely well known frontman for a rock band in baldur's gate so literally everyone they meet knows who she is. nonstop flirt. clocks manipulation left and right because seeing through performances is like half of her skillset. oh yeah. and she can fucking oneshot you by being mean in your direction.

#all tavs are created equal obvs but if you are not making your tav so op it's funny what is the point #i wrote some quick drabbles bc as always im irked by the way i cant tailor responses in rpg to match my characterization #and like. the funniest scene i have is when they go to the grove and literally EVERYONE there knows who she is. #it's like. if fucking beyonce picked up a rapier and a group of raggedy ass nobodies and said Let's Fucking Go #also making astarion have NO clue who she is was deeply funny to me. that old man doesnt listen to hip young music #he's too busy being traumatized and gay #bg3 #im truly not being mean i love the awkward tavs too #it's just so very far from how i characterize my own i have to laugh #that said i want to do a durge run & HIM i plan to make awkward and uncertain #this rockstar persona all came about bc i want a canon reason to give her purple hair btw #and to dress her in slutty little shirts with tit windows #me playing bg3 as a dress up romance game as god intended #im saving the astarion romance for my durge run but they WILL be best friends. and yes. she falls for gale of all people

[shadowcutie]

Oh, come on. Let it hurt.

#baldur's gate 3 #video games #Baldur's Gate 3 spoilers #I finally beat the game... I almost don't even want to play the non-ascendant Astarion romance because... look at this... #This arc and scene in particular feels like it was tailor made just for me #They know exactly what makes me go crazy lmao #how tf are people considering this the bad ending? sure... he becomes a little toxic and maybe there was some consequences for the ritual.. #you gotta crack a few eggs for an omelette or whatever. all I'm saying is that my evil Tav is more than happy to be his dark consort spawn #My stuff

[scuttlingcrab]

Just read the ballroom dance Tav x Raphael post and one of the first coherent thoughts I had (that wasn't just some variation of fangirl squeeing) was 'I wonder if that was the magic tailor Tav and if she made her own attire.' My second coherent thought was 'I must go back and reread Raphael getting sniped by cupid's arrow!' I swear this devil-man falling hard for Tav is just- It makes me grin and giggle so much.

Hi Anon!

Thank you so much for your message and I really hope you enjoyed Dance with the Devil! Side note, I realised I had a bunch of typos in it since posting it last night, so have corrected a few things, haha. Hopefully it wasn't too distracting to those who read it yesterday. I got too excited! 😭🙏🏼✨

In my head, it's definitely Tav, the magic tailor. And that's who inspired Raphael to dress phenomenally at the ball, although he didn't imagine running into her. Perhaps throughout their story arc, Tav had taught Raphael a few things about making clothes, he of course took copious notes, and inevitably "borrowed" the techniques to make his suit and mask. Also despite Tav knowing how to craft the finest pieces of clothing, she'd always dress modestly at camp and while on her adventures so it might've been the first time she was in a proper dress.

For this I was also really inspired by the Sound of Music, and this scene in particular, when Maria dances with the Captain. Just too good!

Thank you again for your message and of course, massive thanks to the original anon for inspiring Tailor Tav(™️). I’ve got your prompts and hopefully can respond soon, when I’m not thinking about Raphael. I make no promises, haha! 🤣

#raphael #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #baldurs gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #asks #tav x raphael #thank you #Tailor Tav

[stillness138]

the emperor: i only fed on criminals! i networked and befriended the bourgeoisie of the city! pls trust me!

river, my tav, who as a child turned to crime out of necessity like most people she knew from the streets, and who has ultimately been chased away from balls gate for stealing from some rich asshole, nearly dying on the run: i don't fucking think so!

#also im gonna go with bullshit on the 'i looked like the hot drow you've been seeing before transforming' #everyone has been saying that look is specifically tailored to attract tav and it makes sense gameplay wise too #'you need a guardian. make one' doesn't line up with 'some rogue-ish dude from forever ago will boggle your temporal lobe' #shut up elis #bg3

[ciitrinitas]

i am putting other games on the top shelf until forever because i am annoyed to go into the wotr tag and just have it be a quarter comparisons to bg3 even if they favor wotr and i agree with them.

#bg3 has crack cocaine open world design for me and a fun battle system #but it's failed to have any long term impact on me beyond the fact i REALLY like one of my ocs who i refuse to call a tav bc she honestly #doesnt even work in the main character role despite me playing her in it #bg3 is like ffxiv to me: a kitchen where i made my own blorbo and then despaired bc fuck i tailored them to the setting so i have to play #in That puddle with Those characters #wotr i just all around love the writing of #and i won't shut the fuck up about the half-lizard guy and his sibling that was born in LITERAL pieces #bc that did some damage to me #the lack of race variety in bg3 is turning into an unexpected sticking point for me #bg3 would never give me regill aka my husband that hates me and thinks i'm disgusting #or nenio probably #i love nenio #or even a vriska expy that adheres to social darwinism #the cast in wotr can just be...so much more varied in alignment and Awfulness #doing a slow sporadic second play of wotr currently and man...just some of the differences in reactivity are already so good #that succubus could not charm my girl bc the succubus was pretending to be iomedae and my girl goes on r/atheism #checkmate demon #era.txt

[thebawdybaldurian]

Summary: The dream visitor returns, allowing Tav a brief glimpse at a possible future with Astarion. She is forced to sneak off to pleasure herself, still worried that being intimate with Astarion is doing him more harm than good. He accidentally overhears her again, causing his own frustrated attempt at it.

Content Warning: PIV sex, masturbation with a foreign object, frustrated masturbation.

Read from the beginning

#astarion #astarion x tav #ao3 #self pleasure #dream sequence #very smutty chapter #tailor astarion

[redlittlefoxari]

To the Ends of Faerun Master List

Summary: The year is 1548; it’s fifty-six years after Tav and Astarion defeated the elder brain with their rag-tag group of friends. So much has changed since then Astarion changed careers and is now a tailor while Tav runs the counter. While their daughter attends Gale’s School of Wizardry. That's right, their daughter. Everything is going smoothly until something dark threatens to destroy all of Faerûn, and it's up to Astarion, Tav, and their Daughter to stop it from happening.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Violence, NSFW 18+, Fluff, Angst, Pregnancy, Talks of Emotional trama, Talks of Physical Trama

Chapter One: Happy Little Family

Chapter Two: Steady *Smut*

Chapter Three: Worth

Chapter Four: Old Gods

Chapter Five: Pact

Chapter Six: Numb

Chapter Seven: Let it Out

Chapter Eight: Drunk

Chapter Nine: Hide and Seek *Smut*

Chapter Ten: Fair

Chapter Eleven: Wicked Goddess

Chapter Twelve: Binding

Chapter Thirteen: On Hold

Chapter Fourteen: Mother Knows Best

Chapter Fifteen: Shadow Purge

Chapter Sixteen: Something in the Air

Chapter Seventeen: Mind, Body and Soul *Smut*

Chapter Eighteen: Morning

Chapter Nineteen: Distracted

Chapter Twenty: Blood and Fear

Chapter Twenty-One: Scars

Chapter Twenty-Two: Friends Forever

Chapter Twenty-Three: Wants and Needs

Chapter Twenty-Four: Rest and Relaxation *Smut*

Chapter Twenty-Five: Trouble

Chapter Twenty-Six: Promise Me

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Almost There

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Evereska

Chapter Twenty-Nine: List of the Lost

Chapter Thirty: Rotten

Chapter Thirty-One: Get Out Alive

Chapter Thirty-Two: One Step Forward

Chapter Thirty-Three: Walking Dead

Chapter Thirty-Four: Bite Down

Chapter Thirty-Five: Servant of Corruption

Chapter Thirty-Six: Trapped

#astarion #astarion dad #astarion fluff #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 #astarion tailor #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #angst with a happy ending #angst #baldur’s gate astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #my fic #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #baldur’s gate spoilers #bg3 spoilers #smut #pregnant tav #third person #pregnant

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion teaching Tav embroidery/sewing. Preferably with him dragging them onto his lap for a close-up demonstration.

Why do I make everything so long? Do I have a problem? There is always so much introspective nonsense idk man. Anyway adorable idea actualized below!

Also mentions of sex but this is totally sfw. I went with the timeline of when your sleeping together but he hasn't quite admitted his feelings to himself, as a side!

~

Astarion had no idea how he became your camp's designated seamstress. How was it possible that a team of eight adults were all incapable of knowing the basics of such a fundamental skill?

Then again, Karlach seemed to be perfectly fine with wearing her clothes to tatters. Wyll was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Lae'zel, for some gods forsaken reason, was only capable of fixing up heavy armor. Gale seemed to prefer eating magical clothing items versus being able to salvage them and the rest were mediocre at best.

The look of confusion on Shadowheart's, who was the second most skilled by far, face when Astarion tried to explain a ladder stitch was enough for him to give up entirely. It was quicker to fix the tears then to explain simple concepts to simpletons.

Brats. All of you. With one who was significantly more brazen than the rest when it came to using Astarion as their personal tailor.

Tav, the lovely thorn in his side. Who could handle wielding a glaive with startingly accuracy, but somehow managed to consistently stab themselves every time they picked up a sewing needle. It was impressive, how useless someone who was otherwise extremely competent could be.

Impressive as it was frustrating. Because somehow you managed to destroy your clothes more often than anyone else. Always bashfully handing him over torn trousers and ripped shirts every other night. Anyone else he would have told to fuck off by now. Even the rest of the camp knew better than to test their luck with anything more than once a fortnight. But you lacked the very basic level of self-control.

It was his own fault for giving you special treatment in the first place. But sleeping together did warrant a few extra benefits. He got your protection and you got to experience the pleasure of being with him. Simple. Or it would have been if you didn't insist on making things complicated.

Because Astarion was starting to feel things. Things that he hadn't anticipated. Because your company was... oddly pleasant. You were an interesting little thing, he had to give you that. Well-read and talkative, but not boringly so. No, Astarion sometimes found himself losing track of time when he was with you. A simple question could easily turn into a two-hour conversation about the silliest things. It was... nice. New. And oh so different from what he was used to.

Cazador didn't even allow him or his brethren to speak in his home, let alone speak to each other unless it was strictly necessary. But here he was free to do whatever he pleased. And he was finding that included being near you, despite how differently you both saw the world.

He couldn't quite blame you for your delusional optimistic views. As a Tymora worshipper you were basically doomed from the start to believe inane concepts like good fortune, luck, and gods, the good that could be found in "anyone".

You were as sweet as you were aggravating and Astarion truly, honestly, had no idea how your insane trusting nature hadn't managed to get you killed yet. But then again he... kind of liked that about you. He liked that you trusted him. It made his life more convienet and... it was nice to be seen as a person worth confiding in. Instead of the blood-sucking monster he really was.

He... liked that. He liked you. A fact that he didn't enjoy thinking about. He didn't really know what to do with it, and the implications of where his feelings could lead were starting to become unsettling. So he pushed it out of his mind. It was an easy thing to do when doom was always looming in the background. He had plenty of things to think about that didn't include his fondness for you.

Like the inner-rage you caused when you managed to somehow rip the same shirt twice in one day.

"That's it," Astarion announced when you bashfully asked for his help yet again, "Come here. I'm teaching you how to sew."

"But you always get mad when you try," You whined. But despite the hesitancy you still obediently sat next to him as he got out the sewing kit, "Do you promise not to snap this time?"

"That depends," Astarion said with a roll of the eyes, "Do you intend on not maiming yourself with a sewing needle?"

Astarion smirked at the way that made a blush crawl up your neck, "That was one time!"

"Actually darling it was closer to seven," Astarion corrected as he snatched the shirt from your hands, "Now pay attention. Look at where the tear starts. Notice how it's on the seam?"

You nodded along as Astarion explained the basics to you. He could tell that you were trying your damndest to pay attention, but when it was your turn to hold the needle your hands couldn't stop shaking. Astarion frowned as he tried to watch you work, his view obfuscated by the angle and the flow of your hair.

Well that wouldn't do.

Before he could think better of it he was hauling you into his lap, ignoring your surprised squeak as he situated you just right.

That was better. At least now he could see what you were doing. It was a sloppy stich, sloppy enough for him to undo it before putting the needle back in your hand.

"Now do it again," Astarion ordered, "Let me see what your doing wrong."

Astarion watched as you tried again, frowning when he realized your shaking was even worse than before. In fact, you seemed more nervous than ever, your face red as you kept your eyes down.

It made Astarion torn between watching your hands and looking at your face. You really were adorable, getting all worked up from simply being in his lap, all while trying to stay dutifully undistracted. He could almost hear your heart racing, obvious through the tension coursing through you.

Silly little thing, acting all shy like he hadn't already literally been inside of you. But at least you were doing better, your stitching straighter than Astarion had ever seen it. Maybe he'd have to make the lap-sitting mandatory from now on, for the good of your learning.

"See," Astarion said softly, his breath tickling your ear as he leaned in closer, "You're perfectly capable of learning this."

"So it looks good?" You asked, taking a chance to glance at him. Astarion hadn't realized just how close the two of you really were. He had never... seen you like this before. So closely. Even when you slept together, he had been a bit distracted by other parts of your body. He never noticed just how many light freckles were hiding across the bridge of your nose, how your eyes looked almost golden in candlelight. You smelled nice too, sweet. Like you had been rolling around in a field of lilies. Considering your personality, Astarion had to wonder if that's exactly what you did.

It would take almost nothing to press your lips together. Barely a turn on the head.

"Astarion, are you listening?"

The sound of his voice snapped him out of his revelry. He straightened, clearing his throat as he looked over your work again, embarrassed in a way that he couldn't quite describe.

Maybe you weren't the only one being affected after all.

"It looks better," Astarion said honestly, "But still needs work. You'll almost certainly be needing more lessons."

Preferably like this. Astarion wasn't quite ready to let you go yet, not when you felt so pleasantly warm in his lap. But luckily enough for him, you didn't seem quite so keen to leave.

Astarion tightened his hold on you laughing at the way it made you gasp, "But that's enough for today. I think you've earned a reward. Don't you?"

"I-yes?" You said back, your eyes flitting from Astarion's mouth and back, "Please?"

You really were too precious. How could he possibly say no to that?

Astarion grinned as he tilted your chin up, finally pressing your lips together. It was an odd feeling, kissing someone when he couldn't stop smiling, but he supposed you just had that effect on him.

Maybe being the camp seamstress wasn't so bad after all.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #cutsey #this was a very cute idea