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justporo · 7 months

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Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

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talesofesther · 1 month

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until one of us caves

Rolan x Reader

Summary: After fighting Lorroakan, you decide to stay with Rolan.

A/N: I know that like maybe three people are gonna read this but I couldn't care less. The more I learned about Rolan's story, the bigger of a soft spot I got, and this little thought wouldn't leave my head so I had to write this down. Nothing serious, just something I wish I could do in the game. Also, this story kinda drifted a little from the original plan about halfway through and started writing itself, so don't blame me if the quality is dubious lmao. Requests for him are open I guess, if anyone's interested.

Word count: 3k

Masterlist

The scent of smoke and ash hung in the air. Stones and mud, remains of the elementals, littered the floor of Ramazith's Tower; as well as a few burned books here and there, smashed furniture, and splatters of blood in the marble. It would take a while to get the place back to the glory it could hold, but you figured it was doable.

The body of its previous master lay lifeless on the floor, spine broken, skin torn. You held no pity for him, only resentment.

From the corner of your eyes, you could spot a twitching tail and clenched fists, staring blankly at the body of his tormentor. He said nothing, merely huffed and walked away before you could think of saying anything, your gaze followed his steps.

The time between when you'd first set foot in Sorcerous Sundries and now had gone by in a haze. You had stopped dead in your tracks then, breath hitching as you caught sight of the countless bruises on Rolan's skin, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness took over you. You'd walked up to him, the words "Who did this to you?" were stumbling past your lips before he even had the chance to utter the practiced greeting. Rolan had evaded the matter, as you'd expected, building ever higher walls around himself. And you'd surprised yourself with how restless the sight of him had made you feel.

"Soldier?" Karlach's hand on your shoulder pulled you back to the present, making you quickly turn your head back to her.

You blinked several times until your eyes regained their focus; "yeah?"

She gave you a halfhearted smile and you wondered just how much your turmoil showed on your face. "I was just asking if you're alright, and… where do we go from here." Her voice held kindness to it, as it usually did. More often than not Karlach was, surprisingly, a calming balm in your hectic days.

"Uh-" you hesitated. Perhaps you should already be used to being the one people turned to in search of guidance, leadership. But it was a title you'd never really asked for, was it?

"You guys should go ahead, dispose of him somewhere," you gestured to Lorroakan's lifeless form, "before anyone walks in on… all of this."

Karlach nodded along and then raised a brow at you. "And what of you?" She asked, yet there was a smirk on her lips that alluded to the fact that she already knew the answer.

"I'll hang back." Your cheeks warmed up, "I'll meet you guys at Elfsong later."

"Take your time, soldier," Karlach winked at you, then turned to hurl the dead Wizard's body over her shoulder. "Right let's go people, nothing left to see here."

"And how exactly do you intend to walk around the city with that?" Shadowheart asked exasperatedly, yet followed Karlach to the swirling portal nonetheless.

The tiefling shrugged, holding Lorroakan's body with one arm, "I don't know. If anyone asks we'll just say he's drunk or something."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"Oh, I want to see that."

Shadowheart and Astarion added simultaneously, one rolling her eyes and the other smiling brightly.

"Alright then, you think of some excuse for-"

You chuckled at the banter of your companions, their voices growing distant as they disappeared through the portal that would take them back to the bustle of Sorcerous Sundries.

With a deep breath in and a long exhale out, you turned around, gaze slowly roaming over the empty expanse of the luxurious tower; now so quiet, bordering on serene, save for the damage the battle left behind. Until you finally spotted the one you were looking for.

Rolan was tucked away in a shadowy corner, head bowed as he stacked a few fallen books on his hands and then beside each other on the shelves. His movements all stiff and slow, as if the books were much too heavy and it hurt to carry them.

The worry twirling in your stomach threatened to escape as you took careful steps towards him. Yet you still weren't sure how to approach him. The tower suddenly held a nearly intimate air. It was delicate, fragile. The lines between you and him had started to blur, you couldn't pinpoint when, but they did; and now, in the privacy of the high tower, you started to feel the weight of it.

You cleared your throat, but the tiefling didn't turn to look at you, though his shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. You wondered if he knew you'd stayed, or perhaps hoped you would.

"Rolan… would you like some help with organizing things a little? At least for the night?" You tried, unsure what else you could possibly say and biting back the urge to tell him that he looked like he needed a good night's rest. He wouldn't admit it, you knew; but the fight had taken a huge toll on his already bruised body. He looked utterly exhausted; shoulders slumped, tail laying limply on the floor, barely holding himself together.

He turned his head to glance at you, an unreadable expression on his face, and lips hovering with uncertainty for a moment. "No, I can manage…" Rolan's voice was quiet, his features softly highlighted by the last fading rays of sunshine coming through the tall windows. You could see the bruises on his cheek, jaw, and nose—some new, some old; darker shades blooming on his reddish skin.

"You can go," he turned away again.

"Are you… sure?" You took half a step forward, fidgeting with your own hands. You didn't feel like leaving him just yet.

"Yes. I'm sure." He finally faced you fully in a quick motion, eyebrows slightly furrowed, "I'm not a helpless child, I can at least take care of organizing this mess by myself, if nothing else."

You closed your eyes momentarily at his words, "That's- that's not what I meant, I know you can-"

"What is it you want then? That I thank you for saving my sorry ass? Again?" His tone held bite to it, anger even, yet you had a feeling that it wasn't directed at you, but at himself. With a huff, he threw aside the one book he still held in his hands, "Okay then, thank you, your heroic attitude of the day has been achieved." He gestured toward you, speaking as if he had been just another thing to check off your list.

The movement of his mouth had pried open a fresh cut he had on his lip. Rolan didn't seem to notice, but the small sliver of blood glinted in the low light. Your heart ached, but not for his words, they were mostly empty. It ached because you saw how much he was hurting. That defeated look lingered in his golden eyes, the same you'd seen at Last Light Inn when he had been incapable of rescuing his siblings. You wished you could tell him he was enough. You wished he would believe you.

You took in a steadying breath, holding onto your composure for both of your sakes. "It's not about being a hero, Rolan, it's about helping the people I care about."

Another scoff fell past his lips, he avoided your eyes, looking distantly out the window beside him; "What are you doing here then?"

You merely raised an eyebrow at him, features soft, allowing him to believe in whatever he wanted to believe.

His throat worked through a heavy gulp when he glanced at you again, tail swishing behind him as he took half a step back. "Sod off," the words came out heavy and unstable, "You came here because Lorroakan was after your Aasimar friend… Your job is done now, you can leave." He stormed past you then, quick steps taking him to the other side of the tower.

With a roll of your eyes, you followed after him, "I came here because I care about you, too." You tried to convey as much sincerity in your words as you could, staring intently at his back as he raised a fallen chair. You caught a glimpse of his tail, coiled tightly around his own leg. You wondered if he even realizes he's doing it, if it's some kind of self-soothing habit he's learned over the years.

His hair had been undone, too, falling freely over his shoulders and looking a tad longer than what you were used to. The look suited him—a touch of softness in his usually sharp appearance—in the back of your mind you promised yourself to tell him that someday.

Several beats of silence went by. With Rolan holding tightly onto the back of the wooden chair. You tended to be annoyingly insistent, the tiefling thought to himself. Ever since the first time he met you, you had a habit of refusing to give up on people. On him. Rolan tried to tell himself it didn't get to him, that the butterflies in his stomach, and the overwhelming relief your mere presence brought him meant absolutely nothing. Because of course, you wouldn't look twice at someone like him, would you?

It was ironically sad that his heart would choose you—the hero, his hero—of all people, to have a soft spot for. He could never measure up, not really, and he knew that; told himself that very fact over and over whenever his mind dared to hope with what-ifs.

"You don't mean that," his voice was small and he berated himself for allowing it to be. He closed his eyes tightly, knuckles growing white with his grip on the chair. "And I was fine," Rolan emphasized the words yet he didn't know anymore if he was trying to convince you or himself.

Silence engulfed the tower again. Deafening silence. One sharp claw tapped the back of the wooden chair, a fast rhythm, following the heartbeat thundering through his veins. With a defeated sigh, Rolan turned to face you. Still, he refused to meet your eyes, focusing instead on the fabric of your glove wrapped around your hand; he could see faint scars on your fingers, wondered how you got them.

"Were you, really?" You asked then, softly, near desperately; waiting with bated breath for him to just look at you.

Rolan was a little difficult to get to, had been since you first met him. Part of you rather enjoyed your harmless bickering every now and then. Behind the witty words, there had always been hidden smiles and bashful eyes, the hopeful glint of being in each other's presence, if briefly.

Alas, you weren't exactly entitled to pry or demand, much as you cared for him it wasn't your place, so you relented; "Tell me you're alright, truly alright, and I'll leave if that's what you want so bad."

Rolan hesitated for a heartbeat, and then two, and three. Any words he might want to say were stuck in his throat, tangled in between feelings that confused the hells out of him. How could he ever tell you that he's not alright? That he hasn't been for a long time?

How could he tell you that he doesn't want you to leave, ever?

There was a distant stinging behind his eyes and he hated himself for it, for being so needy and vulnerable. He hated how his palms were sweaty and his heart threatened to break free of his ribcage with the speed it was beating. He hated how his knees seemed on the brink of collapsing with his weight. He hated how he suddenly felt all the bruises in his body hurting so badly, as if only now he allowed himself to feel the pain they inflicted. He hated-

A soft touch on his lower lip halted Rolan's spiraling thoughts abruptly, and his breath. With the sleeve of your robe, movement as light as a feather, you cleaned a sliver of blood that had escaped the fresh cut there. Rolan shuddered under your touch, for like a breath of fresh air after nearly drowning to death, that was all he could feel.

Pointy teeth dug into the inside of his cheek, holding back what would only be a flood of embarrassment for him if he allowed his pestering emotions to spill. His throat closed up tight, vision growing hazy until you were nothing but a blur in front of him.

There was something about the way you touched him oh so tenderly that got his walls tumbling down as if they were paper under the rain. Your hand lingered, refusing to part from him. Your fingers trailed a hesitant path to his cheek, mapping the bruises underneath- no, mapping his skin, him.

And he could crumble. Rolan felt himself falling, falling, falling.

When was the last time he felt a kind touch? one that didn't hurt or sting or threatened? He couldn't recall.

"I do mean it, I care about you, Rolan." You promised him, and only him. Whispered words dripping with affection.

The front of your boots hit his shoes as you took a final step closer. Rolan brought one hand up, his fingers closing around your wrist with urgency. Yet his hold was gentle, pressing into the veins there and feeling your pulse running beneath his fingertips. He held you there, all but begging you to stay. Words were difficult, complicated, and messy; hopefully his soul could tell you what he couldn't.

With your heart in your mouth, you mumbled; "it's okay. It's over." You're not sure if he heard or felt the words, but Rolan dipped his head forward until his forehead bumped yours.

Suddenly close wasn't close enough. You wanted to kiss away his tears, his bruises, his pain; promise him that everything would be alright now even if your own life was a sea of uncertainty.

"Why?" It fell past his lips. Such a genuine question uttered with such a small voice that it hurt you like a dagger to the heart.

"Why do these things happen to me?" Rolan's voice cracked and stumbled, his eyebrows briefly furrowed in a mix of anger and sorrow. "I-" he breathed in deep and unsteady, bright eyes welling with unshed tears that shone brightly under the soft candlelights on the walls.

You gulped back your own heartache, struggling to keep to yourself how soft he made you feel. You slowly raised your other hand to push fallen strands of hair behind his ear.

"I hoped it had a purpose," he admitted then, quiet as breath. His lower lip quivered before he spoke again, closing his eyes and leaning timidly towards your touch. "That it was a test, and he would- he would eventually stop. That I just needed to endure a while longer."

A choked sob stumbled past his lips and you felt the first of his tears landing on your thumb. Rolan shook his head, a self-deprecating scoff falling past his lips; "that I deserved it."

"Stop," you said before you could think, finally taking your hand away from his cheek, only to bury it into his hair instead. With the encouragement you knew he needed, you pulled him to you.

Rolan fell forward with no restraints, no hesitations, only a weary soul looking for solace. He buried his head between your neck and shoulder, both arms coming around your waist and squeezing tightly, to the point of his claws nearly ripping your robe.

You held him back with the same desperation, one hand tangling in between his hair and cradling his head to you. Your lips brushed the nape of his neck in a silent confession of adoration.

The fabric of your robe grew damp as silent tears fell past Rolan's defenses, his body shaking in your hold, releasing months if not years of bottled-up emotions.

With a kiss to his warm skin, embers of the fire he ignited in your heart broke free; "You could never deserve what he did to you. You're so very special, Rolan. To Cal, To Lia…" You told him, slow and tender, twirling strands of his hair between your fingers, and a small smile stretched your lips when you felt him relaxing against you. "… To me." It was nothing but a whisper, blown into the wind only for him to hear.

Rolan's breath stumbled, you felt it in the way he gripped you tighter—if that was even possible—and heard it in the soft gasp beside your ear.

"Please don't-" His voice broke in the middle, all husky and wobbly from his tears. "Don't say… that. If you don't mean-" he hesitated, fresh tears cascading freely down his cheeks, beyond any foolish attempt to be held back; they dripped down the bridge of his nose and soaked the fabric of your robe, making him curl into you all the more to hide his embarrassment from the outside world.

"Please," it was so quiet as he pleaded. For what, he wasn't entirely sure anymore. Maybe he just knew he couldn't take losing anything else.

You pulled back and Rolan felt his heart stumbling and cracking in his chest. But you were quick to mend it back together, with both hands coming up to hold his cheeks again, your thumbs brushing away the wetness there, near reverently.

"I promise," you whispered, gaze drifting ever so slightly downward before focusing back on his bright eyes. You were bold enough to lean in until the tip of your nose touched his, and as you did so you felt something coiling around your leg. You smiled; "I promise."

Rolan gulped, his mouth parting as he barely held himself back from closing the gap between you. Goosebumps littered his whole body when his upper lip accidentally brushed yours.

He pulled away but refused to loosen his grip on your waist. "I don't want you to leave," he said it so quietly, offering you his bleeding heart with a shaking hand.

Gentle fingers brushed away the messy strands of hair clinging to his forehead. When Rolan looked up, there was a loving smile on your lips, it was the first time he saw it and he already knew he'd kill to see it again.

You leaned closer, and with a kiss between his brows, you said; "then I'll stay."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Rolan’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us

#rolan #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolan baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #rolan imagine #rolan x female reader #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #rolan fanfic #my story

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ticktockmyclockworkhart · 4 months

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Tired of people being so dismissive of/slandering Wyll. Like I’m 1000% on the Astarion train but I recognize Astarion is genuinely a shitty person at times and his trauma doesn’t mean he can be excused from being things like yknow. Canonically racist. Like I adore Astarion but honey. no matter how much I love you you are a spiteful menace who needs to work on himself for real

But Wyll is just so nice and sweet and is such a genuinely good guy!! It disappoints me so much people don’t like him… and also on me liking Astarion, something I’ve seen a lot of in this fandom is a lot of people acting like you can’t like one kind of character without dragging the other constantly. Just because I like Wyll doesn’t mean I hate Astarion. just because I love Astarion doesn’t mean I hate Wyll. Literally all of the companions are deeply nuanced characters and yall need to give Wyll a break for real. When Tav has the option to say “he’s a good man. Maybe the best of us.” to Karlach they are RIGHT.

And it’s not like he’s boring or anything, I don’t know where that comes from… the son of a duke exiled from his home with a deep rift driven between him and the father he loves because a devil got her claws into him and convinced him to sign away his soul for the promise he could protect the people he loved? My guy what isn’t interesting about that?? And I love Wyll even more for the fact that, like Karlach, literally all the shit that gets tossed his way never stops him from being a good person. I always feel so bad breaking his poor heart when the game gives me his act 2 romance scene. Sorry buddy…

Wyll is my guy though and just because this is an Astarion loving zone doesn’t mean this is a Wyll hating zone. Door’s over there if you don’t like Wyll. When my Tav and Astarion get married he’s gonna be the best man. My dragonborn Tav thinks his horns are magnificent. Of fucking course I’ll do a little boogie with the guy.

I’m tired of people acting like genuinely good-aligned characters are boring.

#wyll ravengard

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viihoff · 7 months

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How does Astarion and Tav's relationship develop during their romance? A little analysis and a really long post, part 1 of 2, first and second Acts.

Please note that this is an interpretation. Your Tav's relationships with Astarion might evolve in a different way, it's a mix of both canon and headcanon material. I just love analyzing people and writing stuff.

Act 1.

During this time, Astarion's in survival mode. Being thrown into the world, unknowing if he's free of Cazador's will or not, if he's being chased or not, Astarion resorts to the skeleton of his behavioral pattern - manipulation. He cannot trust Tav, both because he's a vampire (and vamps don't have a good rep, of course), and because the centuries he spent in servitude, deprived of any hope and freedom, thought him to rely on himself, only. He's lost, scared, bewildered. Astarion is drunk with the sense of freedom, but he doesn't know when or how it might end, what's out there for him, and what to do. Seeing Tav, he latches on to them, and starts to plan how to get the most out of them.

So, feeling where the wind's blowing, and seeing Tav as a solidified leader of the group, Astarion starts playing his game. He tries to appear charming and flirts with Tav (and sometimes not only them, but also Gale, Wyll, etc, he needs to have his options open) despite not being whatsoever close to them. It might appear, from Tav's perspective, that Astarion's just like that - overly flirty, promiscuous, a down to earth guy who seeks the simple pleasures. And, maybe, genuinely likes them, why not. But, of course, Astarion doesn't. He actively acts on the persona he created, not willing to share his true feelings yet. He might feel sympathy towards certain Tav's behaviors, like being self-serving, but he doesn't trust them. Again, yet. Even during the first and second sex scenes with Astarion, as he confirms in Act 3 if you didn't get his confession, it was only a transaction for him. His body for your loyalty and a faint chance of you being enamored enough not to stab Astarion in his back.

This is the reason why I don't believe that Astarion develops a crush on Tav in the 1st Act. He prayed for 200 years to the gods for him to be saved, of course they won't send an angel now who would magically sort his shit out for him and basically save him from Cazador, will they? It would be really unfair, after all these years, and totally unrealistic. So, everything he does is an act, confirmed to me by the way Petras acts when you meet him in Act 3. Same mannerism, same learned by heart 'honeyed words' Astarion uses on Tav to lure them in. The way he talks, gestures, plays with the pitch of his voice - Tav's constantly bombarded with the best tactics Astarion has developed to lure people in. There's only a number of times when's genuine - when you reject him, and when he's bitching during the cutscenes and over some of your choices. Right now, the only feeling Astarion's is comfortable to share is anger and mild dissatisfaction. All of his pain is saved for later.

I'm confident to say that spending the night with Tav was a 'duty' of Astarion's, as he himself believed, and he didn't get any initial pleasure in doing it. Of course, he did it willingly (and it was good sex, otherwise Tav wouldn't have been screaming Astarion's name into the night for everyone to hear, lol). However, it was no more than a type of physical labor one performs, totally mechanized.

Act 2.

This is when the immediate danger of being turned into a mindflayer is not a real life threat anymore and being 100% reliant on the good will of Tav isn't a survival strategy.

Genuine friendship starts to develop due to the time spent together and the good things Tav is ready to do for Astarion without asking anything in return. Everyone who's upset over not being able to start as friends with Astarion before initiating the romance - rejoice, I really believe it happens this way in the game. No matter the approval, Astarion begins to warm up to Tav and other companions only in Act 2, feeling comfortable and experiencing true camaraderie for the first time in his life. I say that because I believe that most of the bonding is happening behind the scenes, and the only thing we see is the byproduct. You cease to be a group of survivals in Act 2 and become a real team.

Thus, Astarion begins to feel safe. Not only thanks to Tav being compassionate towards him UNCONDITIONALLY, but because everyone else in your band is ready to protect him and one another. Astarion finds true safety, and, thanks to that, survival mode is finally off.

His mental capacities are finally free to start not only caring about his immediate survival (because he's surrounded by friends, and I don't care how apathetic companions act towards Astarion in his spawn ending, this shit is the result of time crunch, not the way the band would really behave, I'm sure of it), but observe. He sees the person before him, Tav, who does things and doesn't ask shit in return from him, who's genuinely compassionate and kind, and he finally stops viewing this as a weakness. Why? Because it was proven to him by Tav's actions that being a good person is a real life strategy and doesn't always leave you weaker than you were before, but stronger, with more allies and resources than before.

By observing Tav, Astarion sees and understands that there are people who can care for him, and they don't get crashed by the big bad world which is cruel and actively acts against you.

No, the world is indifferent, and shit happens because people choose to act like that. Cazador was a cruel monster to Astarion because he chose to, and Tav cares for him and stands for him because they chose to. There are people who he can trust.

This is the point when Astarion cracks. I believe that he falls for Tav not for their looks or certain temperament (this is the reason why you can romance him as a gnome who he is racist towards, lmao), but they way Tav treats him. He falls for Tav's protecting and kind nature towards him, and after that, I think, he starts seeing beauty in the looks, certain character quirks and stuff like that.

After you helped him decipher his scars and/or protected him from the blood merchant, all of his walls are down. He's a cup full of sheer admiration and gratitude, and, when he confesses, he still doesn't understand that he's in love. He thanks Tav for being there for him, and although he doesn't know what he feels or wants, he enjoys having Tav around him. Being with Tav gave him the strength to believe that good things can happen to him, too. Despite still being in danger from Cazador, he's finally hopeful enough to desire something beyond being away from his master.

He wants revenge. He wants to finally stop pretending. He wants closure. He wants to move on. And he wants Tav.

He wants to treat them the same way they treat him. He finally has the capacity to give back the kindness, because he was given enough of it for him to spare.

And then we move to Act 3, but I will do this part some next time, because this post is already ungodly long. I will also write about the way Astarion's relationship with Durge evolves and how it is a bit different from a standard romance.

Cheers, vampire lovers.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion x tav #text post #next time I will also include some Durge analysis #cause the relationship there is a bit different #you're more of on an equal footing there #I must have made so many mistakes writing this #sorry English is not my first language

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 6 months

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Magnificent

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 643 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: Bhaal worship, mentions of Y/N past, hurt/comfort, angst, comforting Astarion

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Astarion patted the damp cloth over your sweaty forehead. You’d been ill for days but it seems the worst of it was now as your fever tried to break. You laid on your bedroll as Astarion kept watch over you. You stretched, your shirt riding up and revealing a long scar under your stomach, stretching hip to hip.

“What’s that?” Astarion asked, shocked to see such a large scar, he had never seen you without clothes but how could he have missed that?

“A story from a lifetime ago.” you said quietly as you ran your finger over the scar.

“Well I love a good story, and you aren’t going anywhere so… enlighten me.” he said, getting comfortable next to you.

You sighed, “It’s a rather sad story, are you sure?” you asked, adjusting yourself nervously.

He nodded, you let out another sigh before starting,

“I… had a lover once. They were… Perfect. I couldn’t see the atrocities they caused, so blinded by love. And once I found out… I never stopped them… The horror was for love… The things I did for love like that… It was maddening. Full of sweat and regret. That love burns you, maims you, twists you inside out…” you paused letting out a shaky breath. “It was a monstrous love. And it made monsters of us….”

Astarion wiped the stray tears off your cheek, you hadn't realized you were crying. You sniffled, “I couldn’t remain like that… couldn’t bear to be the thing parents warned their children about at night. I couldn’t serve Bhaal just for love. Maybe it never was love… When I left, I was given a parting gift,” you motioned to your scar, “a friendly disembowelment that wasn’t to be survived.”

You sat up, taking the wet cloth from Astarion and hiding your face in it. You kept the cold rag on you, finding relief in it. You felt a hand wrap around your wrist, slowly pulling your arm away from your face. Your eyes met his.

“Centuries have passed since and yet… I feel those deaths. All by my hand. Deserved or not. I couldn’t stop myself until it was too late. All for…” you hiccuped at the end, unable to finish.

“Love…” Astarion whispered as he pulled you into his chest. “People do stupid things for love. Naturally, that's why I avoided it.” he laughed slightly, trying to lighten the mood. “But I understand… I must have brought Cazador thousands. Knowing I was leading them to their doom.” he rubbed your arm, trying to comfort you.

“That’s different, you did that to survive.” you argued slightly.

“You survived too… Love may make us fools, but it can also make us victims.” he said, tilting your face up so you could look at him. “Victims of a dream. Where nothing and no one can harm you. Just you and your love, forever, in perfect bliss. They always draw you in with that dream, and then, it’s too late. You’re swallowed up in their plot. The things we do out of survival are not always pretty, but they have a purpose. Don’t consume your soul with guilt for things you had to do.” he brushed away a few more tears, kissing your cheeks.

“I forgave myself a long time ago. But I’ll never be able to forget what I’ve done… a monstrous love…” you whispered the last bit.

This was the first time Astarion was hearing all this. You were much older than he, and he had yet to discover every little thing about you. That was going to take time, just as it did with him. “What kind of love will we have?” he asked, caressing your face.

“Magnificent?” you asked, not finding a word adequate enough to describe what you felt towards Astarion.

He laughed, a good hearty laugh, “Magnificent indeed little love.”

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Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope you guys like this, just a little something something. Still recovering sickness wise but doing better. Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! Talk soon XOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!

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cynicalalpaca · 3 months

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I should post this here too, shouldn't I?

Explanations under the cut

Astarion: Thief of Blood. Along with the obvious fact that he steals literal blood, his initial plan is to manipulate the player into liking him, “stealing” a bond with them for his protection. And that was basically his m.o. for 200 years. If he Ascends, he would turn into a Lord of Blood

Shadowheart: Maid of Heart. I imagine that she’s spent most of her life inverted as a Bard of Mind, allowing her mind to be destroyed by the Sharrans. The Maid of Heart is, well, made of their own identity. It’s a creation class, and Shart is spending the rest of her life creating herself. If she became a Dark Justiciar, she would remain a Bard of Mind

Gale: Mage of Light. The active understanding class and the knowledge aspect fit the resident nerd of the group, don’t you think? He’s probably the smartest party member (in terms of academic/theoretic knowledge) and uses that knowledge to power his magic. In addition, Light is associated with relevancy and acknowledgement and boy oh boy was he desperate for Mystra’s. If he becomes the God of Ambition, he would turn into a Lord of Light

Lae’zel: Prince of Breath. I know the general understanding of Prince is that they destroy the aspect, but I understand them as also being able to destroy through use of their aspect. Lae’zel is destroying Vlaakith’s empire by freeing the githyanki people and leading a revolution. Maybe a bit of a stretch, but I was trying to avoid overlap for the origin characters. I could also see her as a Knight or Prince of Blood

Karlach: Knight of Rage. She’s a berserker, she fights by utilizing rage. And the popular idea that Knights start out lacking in their aspect is pretty apt too, she’s an extremely positive person while Rage is all about more negative emotions. I think she might ghost her inverted class- Rogue of Hope- but never fully inverts, just toys with distributing hope and positivity.

Wyll: Heir of Hope. I fully admit Wyll kinda got the short end of the stick as he was the last character I did, but I do think it fits. Heirs passively manipulate or inspire their aspect in others, and Wyll fights for the people as the Blade of Frontiers, inspiring Hope in those he protects. I could also see him as a Blood aspect, as so much of his story deals with his bonds- to his father, Mizora, Baldur’s Gate and the people of the Coast

Minthara: Maid of Doom. This is where I stopped caring about overlap lol. Minthara is your most “evil” companion and one who approves of killing people in your way. Doom was a pretty clear choice for her, being the Aspect of death, but also dealing with systems and authority, like the Cult of the Absolute and her place in its hierarchy. As for her class, Maids create their aspect and make it a core part of themselves. Minthara has been surrounded by death and hierarchies her whole life, having been born to a high ranking noble house in Menzoberranzan, leading to them being a very core part of her being. I can also see her vacillating wildly between Maid of Doom and her inverse, Bard of Life, because she’s just that chaotic. They both deal with death, but the Bard is a bit more passive about it, allowing others (the Cult, the player) to take lead on the killing

Halsin: Knight of Breath. Again running with the “Knights lack their Aspect” theory, Halsin starts the game lacking the freedom he desires. He’s literally imprisoned by the goblins, but he’s also constrained by his role as Archdruid, almost toying with his inverse of Rogue of Blood. He craves the freedom of nature and jumps at the opportunity to gain it. You could also argue wildshape is a form of freedom (both of form and of self) that he uses to fight. There’s also his talk of polyamory and how he doesn’t want to be tied down. Freedom is a recurring thing with the guy

Jaheira: Witch of Life. Life is a pretty clear choice for a druid, as Life deals with flora and fauna. Witch is the active manipulation class, and Jaheira is introduced manipulating plants to hold the player. Additionally, she’s shown nurturing life by caring for various children in Baldur’s Gate, sorta like how Feferi took care of various marine animals

Minsc: Knight of Hope. Okay this was the hardest one for me because I don’t fully get Minsc. I’ve only played BG3, I don’t know him from any other games or comics or whatever. But from what I do know, he was obviously one of the more offensive and active classes and Knight seems to fit him best. He utilizes Hope- usually in the form of others’ trust in him- to fight. Without that trust, he wouldn’t be as effective, he always fights best with his companions. He’s also just a happy, up-beat guy, and Hope is largely focused on positive emotions

Boo: Lord of Doom. BOO DECIDES THE FATE OF ALL. HE HAS ULTIMATE SAY OVER LIFE AND DEATH

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Baldurs Gate 3 #Baldur's Gate #Baldurs Gate #Homestuck #No i'm not sorry for doing this #Astarion #Shadowheart #Gale #Lae'zel #Karlach #Wyll Ravenguard #Minthara #Halsin #Jaheira #Minsc

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littlejuicebox · 5 months

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Dancing on my own

Guys I don’t know what this is, it’s just some random angsty drabble that came out inspired by the song “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn (the version by Calum Scott is also nice).

I’m trying to get out of a writing slump so there might be a few more random bits of writing here and there. I’m not sure I even like this tbh lol.

Summary: You and Astarion decided to be just friends after his Moonrise Towers confession. He couldn’t make himself admit to you that he wanted more than that. He knew you deserved better than what he could offer. Now that his quest with Cazador is done, he’s totally lost. He wants you, but you have someone else now; he thinks it’s someone better than him. He’s heartbroken.

Tags/Warnings: PG13, lots of angst, depression, PTSD, low self esteem, depersonalization/derealization, sad Astarion, tbh it’s kinda just a sad bit of drabble

Astarion killed Cazador. You’d think he would’ve been happy… ecstatic, even. But instead he felt exceedingly numb and so, so tired.

It had been nearly a week since then. Astarion had spent most of that time in his room, trancing or simply just lying in the dark. He was exhausted; his limbs felt like lead.

Shadowheart was concerned he had fallen ill and kept checking on him. He would simply grunt to her in response or ignore her line of questioning until she sighed and left.

You came by a few times a day to offer him your wrist; he would drink with a misty-eyed, faraway expression… or sometimes not at all. His hand would linger for a moment on yours, and then he would roll himself the other direction, turning away from you.

It was hard to look at you, to be that close to you, to touch you, to taste you. Blood and sex had been so intertwined in the beginning, it always brought back the memories from before. It made him sick to his stomach.

But his hunger often won, in the end.

How ironic, that the only blood which satisfies his near-insatiable thirst is also the only blood that makes his stomach churn with guilt and disgust at himself.

A double edged sword. Stabbed through his heart.

He should be happy… ecstatic, even. But, by the gods, is he so, so tired. Can a vampire rot into the earth if they stay in one place for too long?

Perhaps. Perhaps he should get up and move, if only to avoid rotting away.

Astarion manages to take a short bath and pull himself together… somewhat. It’s hard to move when your limbs feel like lead. His shirt is wrinkled, and his hair feels like it’s not quite in place, but it will have to do.

The pale elf slinks down to the tavern, where the evening crowd is teetering the hazy line between buzzed and drunk. He’s not in much of a mood for talking to others, so he sits in a corner booth, hoping the natural shadows and his brooding demeanor will deter any visitors. For a few moments he feels normal… or at least acts it. But then he sees you. And Halsin.

Halsin has his arms coiled around you as he absolutely ravages your lips. His thick hands are gripping your body; one hand on your waist, one on your neck. It’s an exceptional amount of PDA; he would vomit, if he had anything left in his stomach from the only small sip he’d taken from you this morning. The hand the druid tenderly placed on your neck is covering the scars Astarion had marked on you from the times before, back when you’d been his. Had you been his? Back before—

“I had a plan. A nice, simple plan…”

“Maybe what you need is a friend, not a lover.”

Astarion had hurt you. He’d hurt you. The look that crossed your face as he confessed is etched into his mind for all eternity; it’s the first thing he sees when he wakes from a trance and the last thing he sees before he slips into one. He’ll never forget the tears that welled in your eyes, which you’d rapidly blinked away. And then you thanked him… thanked him for telling you, for being truthful. Thanked him for hurting you.

He should have lied. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have chose differently from the start.

He knew what he did was terrible; you deserved something more, something real. He just couldn’t be that. He didn’t know how to be… real.

Hells, was he even real now? Was any of this real?

He felt like a shell. Hollow. Empty. It all felt like a sick, strange dream that he couldn’t wake from. All that time he spent running, and now he no longer had to… but who was he, if not a runner?

He’d run from Cazador. Run from you. Run from the concept of true intimacy, which you had so willingly offered.

But now? Now he wanted nothing more than to run to you. He wanted to run into your arms and be held by you, comforted by you. But there you were in the arms of someone who was able to give you what you deserved.

Who was he to get in the way of that? He was nothing. He was no one.

“Good to see you out of bed.”

The vampire rips his eyes away from you and Halsin, where the two of you seem oblivious to the world and stuck in a heated embrace.

Shadowheart is standing next to the booth; her eyes had followed his, and she’d been watching the same passionate makeout scene with mild interest.

She flicks her gaze back to Astarion with a knowing look, and a soft, sad smile crosses her face. The cleric extends her hand out to him, “Come on, Astarion. One dance and then I will let you slink back into this corner to sulk for the rest of the night, if you wish.”

He sighs and considers the offer. He doesn’t want to move, but he can’t keep picking different places to stay and rot. And he can’t keep watching you two. His limbs still feel like lead.

“Very well.” He murmurs, and he takes Shadowheart’s hand.

They dance. It’s a platonic sort of jig, mostly spinning around at arms length with one another. For a moment, Astarion feels a brief glimmer of happiness. He chuckles and smiles; his limbs don’t feel like lead. And then the tune ends, and he’s wandering back to the booth with Shadowheart, and that sinking feeling begins to grow in his chest once more.

“You should talk to them, you know, Astarion. Let them know how you feel. They may choose differently… if you make your true desires known. You did tell them you wanted to be friends, after all.” The cleric murmurs, with another sad little smile. Her eyes contain pity; he hates that.

He’s watching you and Halsin again, where you two are staring contentedly at one another, chatting away. You’re lost in your own little impenetrable bubble. You don’t even see him or notice him at all.

He’s nothing. He’s no one.

Astarion looks so dejected; normally he would be better at putting on his mask. But he’s so tired. He should be happy. But he’s exhausted.

“Maybe I should. But Tav looks happy… I can’t bring myself to ruin that. Selfish as I am, I do care about them, you know.”

Shadowheart nods and sighs. She knows something, he can tell by the look on her face. She wants to say more but decides against it. A small pat on the vampire’s hand and she murmurs, “Good night, Astarion. I hope to see you down here in the morning.”

Then she’s gone, heading upstairs to her room. And he’s alone again.

Astarion watches you two for a bit longer, even though every second he witnesses causes another crack in his fragile heart. Then his eyes return to the dance floor and he sighs before forcing himself out of the booth again. His limbs feel like lead, but he has to start somewhere.

For now, he’ll have to keep dancing on his own.

#astarion x tav #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 fanfiction #baulders gate tav #bg3 fanfic idea #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x you #astarion x gn!tav #astarion angst #light angst #angsty

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vole-mon-amour · 4 months

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Halsin becoming a companion after EA because people were so thirsty for him?? The bear sex scene at the presentation going viral and probably boosting sales???? Now he’s the most hated guy????? Make it make sense.

It's actually incredibly sad because many people either forget he's at the camp ('too boring, too dull' & i've seen takes on YT community pages like "I forget he's even at the camp". Halsin also leads there as the least likeable companion) or treat him like a joke. Oh but bear scene, haha, so funny.

Man. I agree that they completely rushed his romance and development, they weren't ready for people wanting him to be a companion so badly, and they're not making it easy to know more of his backstory and trauma (how the hell do we learn about his sex slavery by a couple of drow ONLY if we take him with us when romancing Astarion and fucking drow twins? Why is Astarion's trauma out in the open, but with Halsin we need to dig so so deeply?)

At the same time, I don't think people are willing to learn things about him and his struggles? Bear (that he has trouble containing, mind you), big, muscular, dumb and boring. Never take him with them anywhere. Never listen to his opinions. Consider his wisdom and experience as something to disregard completely.

I do think the bear sex scene boosted the sales (i'm one of those people, hi), but his personality either felt flat for those people (???? he's AMAZING. he's open-minded. he's so experienced and non-judgy.) or it was a joke from the beginning as well.

Idk. I'm honestly so tired and upset about this. I wish Larian did a much better job at making him a companion, telling his story and backstory, and at interacting with him and letting him expressing himself and his opinions. It always makes me think back to his pipe and the journal, but how we can never gift him anything, ask about his pipe (or ask about all sorts of things for that matter). Let me truly BE with him, Larian. Let me play AS him since his choices and personality so close to Tav's. (Let me romance him as Astarion, just like it was presented at the con, and have their romance be FULL with unique dialogues and interactions.)

Lastly, I wish more people send feedback on this to Larian. Maybe then something would change for the better.

P.S.: I have a doc where I write more on that & describe more problems and how Larian could improve that. I *think* I sent it to them, but I got no reply whatsoever (when I did the same for Astarion, I did), so I'm not sure. If you'd like to read that, hit me up with your email (my messages are open) & I'll add you to that doc.

#ask #halsin #halstarion #natisplaying #bg3 #astarion #larian studios #idk why but #larian.com isn't loading for me anymore without my vpn being turned on

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vixstarria · 4 months

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You do not seem to be very fond of Gale (Not a bad thing I promise!)

I am also not very fond of Gale. I mean, I like him okay, but he also pisses me off the most out of all the dude companions.

Oh I like Gale well enough. He's just not for me.

I've met many Gales.

Gale usually works in something IT-adjacent.

He's very intelligent, has a great sense of humour, and is a bit of a recluse.

He is somehow both arrogant and shy. He is very good at what he does, but always feels like he's underappreciated at work. He often complains about being surrounded by idiots.

He posts on reddit. He was really into 4chan or maybe some very topic-specific message board when he was younger, where he liked to enter arguments to stroke his ego.

He might be reasonably attractive. He's got a beard, although likely one not as well-maintained as in-game Gale's.

He still idolises a girl that dumped him back in high school or university.

There is a Tara in his life. Who is Tara? Perhaps she is an overprotective sister or cousin, or someone he knows back from kindergarten. There never has been nor ever will be anything romantic between him and Tara. Still, she doesn't really like you for some reason, and she makes you somewhat uneasy.

He comes from a 'good family' and is a mama's boy. He's still quite close with her. She's a nice lady, but you will never shake off the feeling that you're being judged by or compared to her.

He is slightly sexist in a condescending way. He doesn't realise it. He thinks he's just being a gentleman.

You better hope you don't work in the same field.

Still, he's a great guy with a heart of gold!

He will love you to bits. You will be the center of his universe.

If you have a history of poor or abusive relationships prior, you won't believe your luck. He won't believe his luck. He's perfect for you. He will adopt your children and treat them as his own. He is good to you. You are loved. You are cared for. You will never need to worry again.

If you are self-sufficient and independent (and, as Astarion put, have 'standards') you will eventually find his love and attention suffocating, and will one day find yourself fantasizing about a fling with an Astarion-esque asshole from work.

You will feel like the worst monster in the world when you eventually leave him.

#asks #vix musings #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep

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simplyemm · 6 months

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Okay so I've had this Gale brainrot that will not leave me alone (not enough to write it myself, but maybe someone else will appreciate this particular thought).

Imagine a Cleric of Mystra Tav. Probably raised in the temple, not a particularly exciting or impressive person, but dedicated to her Goddess as much as someone who was raised to be is.

And then she pulls her goddess's former Chosen out of a portal and they both have brain worms.

More under the cut because THOUGHTS (also spoilers for the game) CW: discussions of religious deconstruction/trauma, mentions of Mystra being a creepy groomer

The temple definitely knew Gale was Mystra's Chosen, and maybe there was some whispering in the corners about The Incident, but I'm not sure how much the rank and file would know.

So Tav pulls this guy out of a portal and he's all like "Hello, I'm Gale of Waterdeep" and she's just like "oh shit, you're Gale of Waterdeep." Which I'm sure definitely inflates his ego just a teeny-tiny bit. And I definitely think Tav probably has a "oh no, he's hot" kind of moment before she squishes that down, at least initially.

Of course finding out about The Orb and the whole "oh yeah I definitely fucked our goddess" thing makes things slightly awkward. Like how does one deal with having a crush on your literal goddess's ex-lover? (the implications are delicious though). And I could maybe see Astarion or Shadowheart making a comment about Tav taking her goddess's sloppy seconds (jokingly, though I could see a Glare definitely putting a stop to those jokes).

They would still have their little Moment in the Weave after the tiefling party of course, with Tav definitely expressing Interest (even subconsciously) because Of Course. Probably with a healthy heaping of religious guilt, cause like how dare she, he betrayed Mystra blah blah blah.

But then Elminster comes with his message from Mystra asking Gale to blow himself up, which brings us to the part that makes me absolutely fucking feral. Tav is furious that Mystra would ask this of Gale, and even more so that he's considering it.

To the point that (at least using game mechanics) would go to Withers and demand a class change. Story wise I'm imagining that she straight up just like starts training with Lae'zel and gets even better at fighting and just straight up stops using magic. Cue the religious deconstruction and Tav coming to terms with the fact that the goddess she had dedicated her life to is actually a horrid fucking bitch who arguably groomed Gale and all that gross shit.

And I'm sure Gale would have FEELINGS about this, especially if he just happened to find Tav wrapping her holy symbol around a smokepowder bomb and just throwing it into oblivion. But also like, how romantic is it that someone would love you enough to straight up abandon their goddess? And I'm sure they'd have a "What the hells are you doing?" "Nothing." "That wasn't nothing" that devolves into something of an argument that ends with Tav shouting something along the lines of "I'm not going to continue to serve a goddess who demands someone I love blow himself up!" (which of course is A Confession).

And then his scene where he confesses would just be SO GOOD because like, how can you not fall in love with someone who has already shown such love the way Tav has?

And then even more if they go to the Stormshore Tabernacle and some of the clerics there knew Tav and there's even more stuff with that. Just a sprinkling of angst because I mean, of course.

Maybe it's my own religious deconstruction talking, but I just think that dynamic would be *chef's kiss*

#gale bg3 #bg 3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg 3 #slight bg 3 spoilers #we will fight mystra behind a Denny's with our bare hands #this has been living in my head rent free for over a week #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #gale romance spoilers

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justporo · 9 months

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Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

#astarion #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #bg3 spoilers #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons #headcanons #fluff #domestic fluff #also kittens #poro headcanons

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rallamajoop · 8 months

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Neil Newbon's Heisenberg Playlist

So I watched this great interview with Neil Newbon ‒ the VA and motion actor for Heisenberg, terrifically talented guy. With encouragement from the text chat, he shared a few of the tracks on the playlist he created for Heisenberg ‒ something he apparently likes to do for a lot of the characters he plays.

One track, called simply "John", was by a band called the Cold Stares (in Neil's words: hard fucking rock, very gritty, very dirty, with a country edge).

youtube

John won’t you dig that grave, John won’t you dig that grave, John won’t you dig that grave, Gonna bury you in that hole someday.

On paper, it's a song about a man tracking down the grave digger (John) that his wife is having an affair with, but just taking the sound and that chorus line? Oh boy, can I hear it!

But the other song Neil singled out from his playlist? "I Can't Make You Love Me" by Bonnie Raitt.

youtube

'Cause I can't make you love me if you don't You can't make your heart feel something it won't Here in the dark, in these final hours I will lay down my heart and I'll feel the power But you won't, no you won't 'Cause I can't make you love me, if you don't

And I mean... damn. I guess you could maybe find a way to spin it as about parental love (or lack thereof) between Heisenberg and Miranda, but that sure ain't where my mind went... XD

There's plenty more great stuff in that full interview ‒ a lot about how much he loves doing performance capture, as a medium where he gets to play so many different characters he'd never be cast as in live action. When cast as Heisenberg, he was apparently told only mid-Atlantic accent, which is a hell of a feature to emphasise.

He talks a bit about his work as Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 too (because, y'know, it's not enough that this guy is Heisenberg, he's also the whole damn Internet's new elf-vampire-boyfriend too), as the game was already in early access by then, even if it was still years short of release. The full interview is a two-hour stream, but well worth a listen.

But the one last related detail I'd like to share here is one other track by the Cold Stares which I found in their discography while looking for "John", and which I have to say strikes me as another terrific Heisenberg track ‒ Dig my grave with a silver spade... Six foot in the ground and I can't get away.

Neil doesn't mention it himself, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if it's in his playlist somewhere. It's called "Headstone Blues".

youtube

I woke up this morning, with the headstone blues She's gonna kill me, gonna cut me loose Tied my tie in a pretty noose I can't win, she can't lose

I ain't the first, no, I ain't the first to leave you Oh but I know, I may be the last

Dig my grave with a silver spade Find a weeping willow to give me shade Bring me flowers on a summer day Six foot in the ground and I can't get away

I ain't the first, no, I ain't the first to leave you Oh but I know, I may be the last

#wintersberg #Karl Heisenberg #Neil Newbon #Resident Evil Village #The Cold Stares #Bonnie Raitt #Youtube

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wisecrackzach · 6 months

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Durge HCs (with appearances from Gortash)

Some hc rotating in my brain about my durge but I'm too lazy to write fics rn so this is my outlet

The Dark Urge and Gortash learned how to ballroom dance together. Gortash knew he was going to take over Baldur's Gate and figured he should know how to dance like the rich do (he's the kinda guy who believes in dressing for the job you want). So, he decides to teach himself and Durge too since he wants to rule with them. It was clumsy, messy, and got a little violent, bloody, and even erotic at times.

Gortash also made Durge do some other proper society training. Obviously, Durge wasn't built for proper society but Gortash dreamed of it and now thay dream included Durge. So, he made them also learn what fork to use for when (the beast and belle dinner scene frfr) and posture training. Durge hated this very much. They threatened Gortash life many times and many fork were stabbed into hands.

I refuse to believe that Gortash doesn't know how to lace his shirt. Therefore, I've decided that durge used to lace them that way because they were always dressed by their followers so they didn't know how. And now Gortash keeps it that way.

I 100% think that Gortash is obsessed with money and appearing rich. He buys gaudy expensive clothes but doesn't know how to wear them or the current trends because he didn't grow up rich. So, he looks kinda silly with his ugly red shoes and anxiety robe but no one dares make fun of him for it.

And because he cared about clothes and presentation he would buy Durge a lot of clothes that durge probably never wore.

Durge probably went to the shoe store Gortash's parents own when they were a kid before becoming the dark urge.

Orin and Durge are kinda like Zuko and Azula to me. Like even though they're both kinda fucked up inside and hate each other, they're still siblings. They probably had dumb arguments as teens like normal siblings but a little bloodier. And they probably braided each other hair and cared for one enough without admitted it was that. I wish so badly their could be an ending with Orin with a redeemed Durge like their was with Zuko and Azula.

Kinda fucked up but I wouldn't put it past them, Orin and Gortash hooked up after the Durge was taken. Buuut Orin would be shapeshifted into Durge for Gortash. Additionally, Orin used the Durge form to mess with Gortash just for fun.

Redeemed Durge HCs

The general public does not know about Durge being from Bhaal's temple and kinda being the cause of it all. Except for Duke Ravengard (if alive). Which makes it really awkward for a Durge romancing Wyll because his father is so clearly scared of Durge. They feel bad and they're trying to calm him but he's definitely resents them a little.

Durge probably killed Gortash's parents after the whole saving the world thing in the good ending. Like this might be a redeemed durge but they still killed them cause they still felt bad for Gortash and his parents sucked.

Durge made a memorial for Orin, Gortash, and Ketheric. Maybe they even added The Dark Urge too, just to remind themselves that's not who they are anymore.

If Durge is a warlock then original their patron is Bhaal but after they reject him Withers is their new patron.

Since they're kinda the hero of Baldur's Gate now, Durge was forced to do a bunch of public appearances and go to fancy parties and balls. Unfortunately, they've forgotten everything that Gortash taught them before about being in the upper crust so Durge is totally lost and feels like a rabid wolf in a bowtie. However, the gang helps them where they can. Primarily, Wyll and Astarion. Lae'zel offers advice but it's never any good...

#durge hc #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 hc #bg3 hcs #durge hcs #bg3 durge #bg3 spoilers #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #gortash x durge

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bloodycyrano · 3 months

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I am extremely mentally fucked right now, so let's see how team tadpole handles their depressive episodes! TW, this will probably be super depressing to read.

Astarion: He thinks he hides it really well, and for the most part, he does. But his motivation for easy, everyday tasks and self care goes absolutely down the drain. You've seen the inside of his tent, you know how it goes. He tries to keep up the image of doing well, keep the smile, keep the jokes coming. He's terrified of people finding out what's underneath, and in hiding it, he feels like he has the upper hand. He doesn't, and he needs therapy. I'd also put money on him hypersexualizing himself for the validation and to feel like he was worth something. After all, Cazador beat it into him that that was all he was good for. Luring in pray with his body. - We also know that Astarion has nightmares, but I'd like to add to this with the reminder that Elves don't sleep. They trance. In the trance, they go over the memories of their past. It's how they keep up with such long lives and how they stay close to past lives as children (For those who dont know, elves don't measure age in maturity, but rather by distance to their past lives- Once an elf can no longer recall memories from their past life, they are considered an adult. They pick their adult name in celebration of the new person and consciousness that they now are). The fact that Astarion can remember nothing of his life prior to being turned by Cazador, nothing of his family, etc., Means that he is so deeply affected by Cazador that those memories are the only things he can see when he goes to rest at night. Every night, in perfect detail, he has to remember all of his worst trauma.

Karlach: Karlach is the sunshine character. She's sweet, and loud and bright with the biggest smile, but you also have to remember that she was a soldier. She was sold off to a literal demon and used as a science experiment essentially for the hell of it. She's not going to open up about what she's feeling immediately, and she's not going to seek help, either. She thinks she has to deal with it quietly and on her own, because since her parents died; that's what she's always had to do. Chin up, no tears, keep fighting. It's going to stress her out to the point where she starts smoking again, but she'll try to hide it or brush it off. Most importantly, she's going to be more focussed on not burdening those around her and trying to take care of you guys and protect you at the expense of her own mental health and physical safety. But her sorrows are noticeable. She can try to hide it, but everyone in camp knows. Everyone in camp is worried. Everyone can see when her eyes stop glimmering, when she stops dancing around in her tent when she can't sleep, when her bright laughter stops, and when she gets quiet. So quiet. She zones out, like she's in another realm entirely. She probably also has post traumatic stress from her time as a soldier, and it's going to weigh on her heavily in battle. Maybe she'll freeze up, have flashbacks, even potentially have small hallucinations now and again. It's going to take a lot of care and reassurance to get her to talk to you about it, but when she finally does, she'll probably have a complete meltdown with all the feelings she's been keeping inside.

Wyll: Wyll self isolates. He gets much quieter, and he probably isn't going to be too open to talking about it unless he's really close to you. He gets a little cold when talking to people, but he's good at resolving things in his head and the most likely to rationalize his feelings to make himself feel better. He also probably writes poetry, or even paints his feelings as a form of expressing his sorrows because he understands he needs some outlet so he isn't bottling everything up. He has the heart of an artist, and this is a hill I am prepared to die on.

Gale: He has a hard time talking when he's sad, and probably has difficulty making eye contact as well. He'd probably be more inclined to seek out comfort and vent than the rest of team tadpole, but that doesn't take away from the complexity of his emotions. He's angry, and sad, and feels so so shitty just about being who he is in general. He's fallen so far from where he once was, and for what? He'll do is best to rationalize, but his anxiety is going to push into paranoia, and rationalizing is going to turn into self loathing. He's going to try his best to be more useful, and show off, and earn the validation he craves because without that, what is he? He was a prodigy child. He used to be so, so great. Even the goddess of magic herself thought so. Now he's rotting away in a camp full of strangers and trying to re-learn level one spells. It's taking a toll on him, and it's noticeable to anyone willing to look.

Shadowheart: She's trying to pray. The goddess she has been devoted to all her life is the lady of loss. There is a great amount of sorrow in the way she worships, and in her suffering, she finds faith. She tells herself it's her next step to becoming a dark justiciar. Delving further into her faith and trusting in the dark depths of her soul, and her pain. All it ever truly does is make her hurt, though.

Lae'zel: Lae’zel is truly a specimen built on stoicism. If you ask her what's wrong, she will tell you but it will also be in such a way that you wonder if she's really processing all of her pain. The thing is, she's thinking about it. She has the emotional intelligence to understand the way she's feeling and how to fix it, but for some reason unknown to her, she can't. And that's what's going to stress her out and hurt her the most. She knows what theoretically should fix the pain, but it's not working the way that it should. She's going to wonder if it's something wrong with her, or the way she's going about it. She might get angry with other people more often, and try to project blame onto someone so that maybe she can find a way to resolve the way that it hurts. But she can't. She'll keep throwing temporary solutions and misplaced anger into the void until she finds something to distract from it. And maybe, after a lot of contemplation and positive outside help from the rest of team tadpole, she may find peace.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #lae'zel #gale dekarios #karlach #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #team tadpole #angst #depressing shit #menatl health #trauma

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