elorathebard - Tumblr blog

[elorathebard]

"He says he's a tenor, but I can make him hit soprano notes with just two fingers!"

@elorathebard ‘s Tav, Elora.

To see full version of Elora teaching Astarion to sing, click here! 🎶

[elorathebard]

I will personally kiss the Larian employee who designed the male body models on the mouth

Everyone In BG3 Has The Same Ass (PROOF)

This is a follow up post to this one. ALRIGHT here's my photographic evidence that everyone in this game has the same ass. Pictures are under the read more. I revoked penis privileges for all the character models and censored the general crotch area, but there will be bare booty. Consider yourself warned.

Alright here's all ya men. Models and textures have been ripped straight from the game data, color values are taken from the game's code, and shaders have been painstakingly recreated by the great Volno, with a few slight tweaks by me to get the textures to look better in EEVEE. (Sorry everyone, I don't have the patience to wait 15 minutes per photo to render ass comparisons in cycles)

The black backdrop is there because otherwise y'all would be staring into a featureless bright white void. Dark mode users cry, Astarion's chin disappears, it's just ugly all around.

Here's the view from the back.

And here's your side view.

Now, I know you're wondering. Did Elora fuck with the camera angles or use different models, all to convert us to her devious ass-genda? Be comforted, dear viewers, because I came prepared. With measurements.

Now, we know from a tweet from Larian that Astarion is 5' 9". I'm a little skeptical of that number myself, since there's a Githyanki line in the game that puts him at 5' 11". There's also the fact that if you convert the feet to inches, you get The Funny Sex Number. But whatever, I'll play along.

Here's a ruler that's exactly as tall as Astarion, divided into 69ths. If the number Larian gave us is correct, then each marking will be one inch.

Here's the same ruler, centered on the cheeks. According to these Incredibly Scientific Calculations, everyone's cake is 14 inches wide and 7 inches tall. Perfectly rectangular.

If we spin em around, we can see that everyone has a standard Dumper Depth of about 2 inches.

And. since I know someone will ask, no, Wyll does not get a new ass upon demonification.

Now, I see you Holy Rolan Empire. I see the Gortfuckers. I see the Raphaelites. You are NOT exempt. Because guess what.

THEY ALSO HAVE THE SAME ASS.

Now before everyone comes at me in the comments, I'm pretty sure this is just a case of BRUTAL video game efficiency. The game's already 130 GB. They need to save on resources wherever they can. In an ideal world, Gale wouldn't have abs, Gortash would have love handles, and everyone would have custom-sculpted derrieres. But unfortunately we live in a timeline where computer hard drives are finite.

I bring this up not to de-legitimize anyone's choice of husbando, but so that we can move past the ass wars and move onto more important discussions. Like whether gnome tavs can canonically turn into mind flayers.

[elorathebard]

AAAAA I love it so much! I'm so glad my work could inspire dadstarion fluff!

Things to Desire

Summary: Just domestic fluff

Tags: fluff, dadstarion

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons Based on this beautiful render by @elora-the-slutty-songstress!

Tiriel wakes up, her head heavy and dizzy. 

How long did she sleep?

She turns her head towards the fireplace and smiles. She is warm and her  stomach is full.

What else could she want?

The last work she got was such a miserable adventure she actually wanted to send everyone to fuck off and return home. The adventurers were traveling North through frozen swamps where it rained and snowed constantly. They were attacked by goblins, and by the time they reached their destination – an ancient yuan-ti dungeon – half of the group was dead. The other half were trying to kill each other.

But now, Tiriel is home. It doesn’t snow and rain underground. She’s spent the last few hours in a hot bathtub (bless be the dwarven pipes), eaten as much as she could (surprising how well Astarion cooks considering all food tastes like bile to him), and then fallen asleep under a heavy blanket while holding her vampire in her arms.

Nothing else she could desire.

She looks aside, but Astarion isn’t there. Tiriel pouts for a moment before feeling a bit of shame. There was a time when she could have him all to herself, but they have a child now who needs to be taken care of. 

When Tiriel returned, eight-year-old Alethaine was sleeping – the dhampir sleeps an ungodly amount of time in her bed considering she is an elf. But maybe her dhampirism affects her sleeping pattern as well making her similar to a cat.

Tiriel makes herself sit up.

Alethaine doesn't breathe. She can crawl walls and ceilings (and Tiriel often notices clear signs someone walked in dirty boots up there). Her bones and bruises heal immediately and she has such acute hearing her parents literally had to re-adapt the basement into their “fuck-room” because otherwise the girl could perfectly hear them.

Little monster.

The little monster is friends with almost everyone in the town. She hangs around the healer’s hut because the old halfling really enjoys having someone who can search the underground tunnels for herbs and also mop her ceiling. 

The little monster whose worst crime is stealing candies and she is so cuddly Tiriel wonders if Alethaine is too old for that.

Well, Tiriel doesn’t mind honestly. Alethaine can sit on her lap even when she is a century old.

Tiriel tries to get up, but her head is so dizzy that she falls back on the soft pillows.

“Astarion, are you there? I feel really lonely!” she calls out for him and laughs.

She doesn't need to repeat it twice. Astarion appears in the bedroom almost immediately. He is chest-naked and barefoot, wearing only black trousers. 

“I was rather busy cutting the wood,” he chuckles and sits on the bed to give Tiriel a kiss.

“Oh did you do it chest-naked? Careful, I might get jealous!”

“Nonsense, darling, everyone knows I belong to you. Do you want anything, my treasure?”

“Water. And then I want to cuddle with you.”

Astarion brings Tiriel a mug and then kisses her wet lips before sitting in the bed with her.

“Where is Alethaine?”

“Went to walk in the tunnels. She really enjoys jumping around those creepy ancient ruins.”

Tiriel puts her head on his shoulder. A good mother wouldn't allow an eight-year-old to hang around in such a place. but Alethaine is a dhampir, it’s not more dangerous for her than any other place. They don’t allow her to go to the woods alone, mostly because Astarion can drag her home from the tunnels any time he wants but can’t go to the surface in the sunlight.

Astarion nibbles her ear and then nuzzles into her neck. He doesn’t ask, but all his body language begs for a treat.

Tiriel nods and Astarion sinks his fangs in her skin. She caresses his hair – he is so dangerous and vulnerable at the same time. He can easily rip an orc’s throat and yet he looks like an underfed cat when he wants her blood.

“Do you think Alethaine knows you feed on me?’ Tiriel mutters, perfectly knowing Astarion can’t answer. “Well, I think she does … But again it’s not for her eyes to see.”

Tiriel squeezes her lips. She has no idea when it’s time to talk to Alethaine about … things adult people do. She doesn’t show any interest in love stories or child games that imitate dating and marriage. Elves hit puberty much later than humans and half-elves (Tiriel got her first blood at 15), but what about dhampirs? Tiriel doesn't know how to approach this subject with her daughter, but she suspects other kids in the town could have already told her.

In the quiet of the house, she hears soft steps and a very loud sniff. 

“Astarion, she is back!” Tiriel pushes the vampire away. He makes a rough movement setting her neck free and Tiriel yelps while trying to cover the bite mark.

The door to the bedroom opens. 

“Kitten, what happened to you?!” Tiriel gasps looking at her daughter.

Alethaine sniffs again.

Her long silver hair is dirty. Her left boot is absent. Her tights are torn on the knees. Her black dress is all dirty and wet as if Alethaine fell in the swamp. There is no visible injury, but she looks like a ragged doll.

“Princess, come here,” Astarion comes to her and lifts her in the air. The moment he does it Alethaine starts ugly crying like a baby.

“Oh no, kitten, tell us!” Tiriel says as Astarion and Alethaine sit on the bed.

“I-I was playing in-in the ruins,” she coughs. “And I fell… I fell… “

Astarion gives her water and Alethaine keeps talking, crying, and rubbing her eyes.

“I fell in the crevice,” she hicks. “I broke my leg! This one!”

Tiriel carefully pulls down what remains of the tights. The pale skin is absolutely perfect, with no bruises and no scratches.

“Well, it seems like everything is alright,” Astarion kisses his daughter’s forehead.

“It’s not!” Alethaine insists.

Tiriel keeps listening. It seems like Alethaine passed out for a few seconds after the fall because the next moment she opened her eyes there was some ugly slug on her chest. And the fracture was so bad that Alethaine saw the bone piercing the skin. 

Alethaine cried for help but the crevice was too deep and she was too far away in the ruins, so the dhampir had to crawl up using the spider climb. By the time she got out, the bone had returned to its place thanks to her body’s fast regeneration, but it didn’t mean Alethaine felt any less miserable, cold or dirty as she walked home.

Besides, despite all the regeneration, Alethaine still feels pain. 

“Princess, look, everything is healed.” Astarion tugs her closer. “But we need to give you a bath, what do you think?”

Alethaine cringes noticing the goo on her chest.

Tiriel tries to get up but Astarion stops her.

“I will prepare a bath, you two just sit here,” Astarion rubs Alethaine’s ear and leaves. 

As he does, Alethaine frowns.

“You have blood.”

“I know, kitten”.

She squeezes her pale lips.

“Does dad drink your blood?”

Tiriel sighs. “Yes. He does.”

“I knew it,” Alethaine says. “Rutha said dad drinks your blood and I told her he doesn’t but then I remembered he is a vampire. It means he takes blood. Why did you hide it?”

“Because some things are not for everyone to know,” Tiriel pinches Alethaine’s nose.  “Mum and Dad have some things they do to each other which are supposed to be hidden. When you grow up, you will have someone like me or your dad and what you do will also remain…concealed from others. As long as you want to do those things.”

“Ughm,” she nods. “Like making babies.”

“Yes.. we can call it that,” Tiriel laughs.

“Are you going to have more babies?” Alethaine frowns. 

Tiriel contemplates. She wouldn’t mind having one more child but not now; maybe when Alethaine grows up.

“Would you want to have a little brother or sister?”

“No,” Alethaine says. “I am good.”

Alethaine studies something on the wall. How exactly does she see the world, Tiriel wonders.

“But I will have a daughter when I grow up,” Alethaine adds. “Only one, I don’t want more.”

It’s not the first time Tiriel has heard this. Alethaine says it firmly, absolutely sure it will happen. 

Once, Tiriel got so curious about this, she decided to talk to a Seldarine cleric. It wasn’t easy to find one but she encountered an elf who served Hanali Celanil, the goddess of joy, and asked if this meant her daughter had prophetic abilities or if it was just a projection.

Oh no, the cleric said. Neither. It just means the soul she is to be mother of is already prepared to be reborn. It waits in the Halls of Arvandor when it’s time to return to the Material Plane.

Tiriel has never mentioned this to either Astarion or Alethaine. But from time to time she watches Alethaine sleep and tries to imagine this “soul” that will one day come to the world to be held by the little dhampir.

For some reason, it’s not difficult.

But, Tiriel wonders, who will she have this child with? Is it going to be an elf? Or someone else?

Will this person love her? Will they accept all her quirks and traits?

“Alethaine! Come here!” Astarion calls her out and Alethaine goes to the bath.

Tiriel hears them talk about something but can’t understand what exactly. In a few minutes, Astarion comes back to her and Tiriel leans into his chest.

“She wanted me to stay with her,” he says.

“She is too grown up for that,” Tiriel sighs. 

“I know. One day I could take off her onesie and wash her in the tub and the other I have to turn away if she starts undressing.”

“You miss it? Her being a baby?”

“Of course, I do,” Astarion hugs her and puts his arm on her shoulder. “Tiriel, love, stay with me all right?”

She touches his fingers. 

“Of course, go and meditate.”

He stills and in a few seconds, his mind is already too far away. Tirel sighs. Unfortunately, he has only two options – it will either be something recent, something they shared together, or something nightmarish, something that will torture him.

He doesn’t have independent memories. Memories that are free of her or his master. She has a whole life without Astarion and he doesn’t.

Unfair.

Soft steps echo through the house.

Aletaine closes the door from the inside. She wears her short night dress with a high waist but her pale feet are bare.

“Can I sleep with you, too?”

Tiriel frees her hand. “Come here, baby kitten”

Alethaine crawls to her and nestles in the crook of her arm. Tiriel kisses her forehead.

Soon Alethaine is asleep too.

Tiriel smiles.

It’s a weird image. Both of her monsters are in her arms, sweet and vulnerable. 

They can both can rip an orc apart but right now they resemble cats lying on Tiriel in need of warmth and love

She doesn't want to sleep anymore so she just stays there in total silence, enjoying the life she has.

Warm fireplace.

Welcoming home.

Husband and daughter.

What else could she desire?

-- Tag list:

@tugoslovenka  

@herstxrgirl 

@herdarkestnightelegance  

@vixstarria 

@not-so-lost-after-all  

@marcynomercy  

@theearthsfinalconfession 

@starlight-ipomoea    

@micropoe10 

@astarion-imagine-archive  

@veillsar

@elora-the-slutty-songstress  

@fayeriess  

@lumienyx  

@tallymonster    

@caitlincat-95  

@tragedybunny  

@valeprati  

@lynnlovesthestars   

@marina-and-the-memes  

@waking-eyes   

@ayselluna  

@connorsui  

@asterordinary  

@darkarchangel96  

@locallegume  

@brainfullofhotsauce   

@coffeeanddonutscafe  

@my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen 

@queenofthespacesquids  

@ednaaa-04  

@dajeong

@wilteddreamsofbaldursgate

@nyx-knox

@jessaryss

[elorathebard]

Everyone In BG3 Has The Same Ass (PROOF)

This is a follow up post to this one. ALRIGHT here's my photographic evidence that everyone in this game has the same ass. Pictures are under the read more. I revoked penis privileges for all the character models and censored the general crotch area, but there will be bare booty. Consider yourself warned.

Alright here's all ya men. Models and textures have been ripped straight from the game data, color values are taken from the game's code, and shaders have been painstakingly recreated by the great Volno, with a few slight tweaks by me to get the textures to look better in EEVEE. (Sorry everyone, I don't have the patience to wait 15 minutes per photo to render ass comparisons in cycles)

The black backdrop is there because otherwise y'all would be staring into a featureless bright white void. Dark mode users cry, Astarion's chin disappears, it's just ugly all around.

Here's the view from the back.

And here's your side view.

Now, I know you're wondering. Did Elora fuck with the camera angles or use different models, all to convert us to her devious ass-genda? Be comforted, dear viewers, because I came prepared. With measurements.

Now, we know from a tweet from Larian that Astarion is 5' 9". I'm a little skeptical of that number myself, since there's a Githyanki line in the game that puts him at 5' 11". There's also the fact that if you convert the feet to inches, you get The Funny Sex Number. But whatever, I'll play along.

Here's a ruler that's exactly as tall as Astarion, divided into 69ths. If the number Larian gave us is correct, then each marking will be one inch.

Here's the same ruler, centered on the cheeks. According to these Incredibly Scientific Calculations, everyone's cake is 14 inches wide and 7 inches tall. Perfectly rectangular.

If we spin em around, we can see that everyone has a standard Dumper Depth of about 2 inches.

And. since I know someone will ask, no, Wyll does not get a new ass upon demonification.

Now, I see you Holy Rolan Empire. I see the Gortfuckers. I see the Raphaelites. You are NOT exempt. Because guess what.

THEY ALSO HAVE THE SAME ASS.

Now before everyone comes at me in the comments, I'm pretty sure this is just a case of BRUTAL video game efficiency. The game's already 130 GB. They need to save on resources wherever they can. In an ideal world, Gale wouldn't have abs, Gortash would have love handles, and everyone would have custom-sculpted derrieres. But unfortunately we live in a timeline where computer hard drives are finite.

I bring this up not to de-legitimize anyone's choice of husbando, but so that we can move past the ass wars and move onto more important discussions. Like whether gnome tavs can canonically turn into mind flayers.

[elorathebard]

Alright time to stir up some controversy I guess.

I see all these people talking about Gale has the best ass out of all the male companions.

I see other people saying it's Astarion.

There's even a very persistent group of Wyll supporters.

But I'm here to break some news to y'all.

As someone who has worked with the game's model files and spent *way* too long squinting at the code, I unfortunately have to break some news.

NONE OF THEM have the best ass.

BECAUSE ALL OF THEM HAVE EXACTLY THE SAME ASS.

Like seriously. From the neck down all of them are identical. They have custom normalmaps, sure, but otherwise it's exactly the same body model copied and pasted.

Will provide proof in a separate post because the ass might be too hot for tumblr.

[elorathebard]

Behold the fanciest, most obnoxious wedding invitation ever!

I swear designing this was like monster factory except for someone with a graphic design degree.

Yes I went to school for graphic design. Yes this is all I have used it for thus far. No I do not regret any of it.

Thanks for the fun project, @tragedybunny !

Slow Dancing In a Burning Room - Interlude

༺Summary༻

In a moment of weakness, Serafina helped Astarion ascend, forever altering him and their relationship. Irrevocably bonded in violence, can she survive life at his side, or will she be broken by the cycle of pain and terror.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav)

༺Warnings༻ Dubcon / Noncon elements , violence, toxic / abusive relationships

༺Word Count༻ 1332

༺Masterlist༻

༺A/N༻ I am engaging in a fantastic idea I had for this story.

Thanks to @leomonae for the beta and being an amazing friend.

And thanks to @elorathebard for the fun image at the end.

Read on AO3

꧁༺Interlude - A Most Pressing Question ༻꧂

༺Serafina finds herself back in Astarion's good graces and their relationship appears to be headed to a better place. In fact, the Vampire Ascendant has something of great import to ask his consort.༻

Serafina stepped from the carriage into the blinding brilliance of the day. They'd been traveling for days, their destination unknown to her. 

Only a couple of days after the whole affair with Navril, Astarion had woken her at dawn. “Get dressed, little love, I want to take you somewhere.” 

Astarion had been affectionate and cheerful with her following that night. She’d wanted to sink into that feeling, let it wrap around her and keep her warm and safe. But the sight of Navril lying unmoving on the floor wouldn't leave her, and a part of her kept constantly waiting for the sudden shift in his moods she'd become used to. 

He'd kissed her sweetly that morning, though, tugging her out of bed with childish glee, and she’d pushed back down all her anxiety. “Where, my love?” she’d asked, playing along. 

Astarion had kissed the tip of her nose. “It's a surprise. Now get dressed and come down for breakfast.”

Breakfast. The word had set her nerves on fire. He'd expect her to eat again. 

“Hurry along,” he’d urged, kissing her once more time, before leaving her alone. 

Breakfast had turned out to be a mercifully unconscious woman, draped over the dining room table. “A murderer, I can promise your overly delicate sensibilities, my dear.” He’d guided her to sit in a chair near one of the woman’s outstretched arms. 

The kindness had seemed unusual even for the last few days. “B-but Navril…”

Astarion had made an exasperated noise. “He came to me seeking to take your place! He would have seen you dead. Think of it as attempted murder.”

She hadn’t been sure she believed any of it, but Astarion sinking down into the chair next to her and wrapping his arms around her had been enough for her to drop it. Maybe the woman really was a murderer. The unending hunger had already been making her salivate, so she’d brought the arm to her mouth and bitten down into her wrist. 

They'd left as soon as she’d finished her meal. The windows on the carriage had the shades pulled tight for the whole ride – so as not to spoil the surprise, Astarion had said. They’d traveled at a brisk pace, only stopping for a few hours at a time, to eat; mercifully, he’d allowed her to hunt animals without argument, and briefly escape the confines of the carriage. 

Although he had been completely pleasant this trip, it hadn’t stopped her from noticing the tension in him as the carriage cut across the rough roads. It had worried her to see the tightness in his shoulders and the furrow in his brow. Sitting next to him, she'd reached over to capture his hand and squeeze it gently, like she would have back in the early days of their relationship. “What troubles you, my love?”

This was right, this was how it should be. She’d comforted Astarion so many times back then; sworn to keep his heart safe. The ascension had driven a wedge between them; she couldn't lie to herself, the magnitude of it had affected his behavior in the worst way. But he was coming back to her, little by little.

Beside her, he’d frozen and she’d felt his hand grow restless in her grasp. “Nothing, darling; I just hate traveling so far from home.” 

“I think it's exciting – we haven't been this far from home since we met. It's like another little adventure together, only with less possibility of a gruesome death.”

Astarion had let out a sharp laugh, and, pulling his hand from hers, had teasingly patted her on the head. “Please, my sweet, those days were torture and I was a pathetic mess. But count on you to see some good in it. Now be a dear, and find a book to read; I've got some correspondence to attend to.”

Inwardly, she’d sighed. It was like he'd forgotten all the good about those days – and about himself. It wasn't worth pushing it though. Not when things were finally on the mend.

Thankfully, his temper had remained even throughout the remainder of the journey, until he;d finally declared their destination reached. 

Earlier that day, when they’d stopped, Astarion had given her a plain blue linen dress to change into, something like she would have worn at camp during their adventure. She’d been pleasantly surprised to see him also change into something reminiscent of that time, including a shirt so like that one she'd watched him mend over and over. 

While her eyes adjusted to the brightness that would have been lethal to any other vampires, the sound of rushing water and the aroma of a beach washed over her. In confusion and disbelief, her gaze swept over the area; the landscape before her was burned into her memories. 

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion came up behind her and looped his arms around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “I promise not to pull a knife on you this time.” 

A smile tugged at her lips, at the memory and at the sweetness of this surprise. “You remembered where it was perfectly.”

Releasing her, he clasped her hand instead, and began to lead her along, farther down the beach. “How could I ever forget the spot where I fell from the sky and my life started anew? The spot where I met you.”

Astarion stopped to fix her with a soft gaze; her undead heart managed to flutter in her chest.  “Astarion…” She still wasn't sure what they were doing here, but for the moment, everything seemed perfect. “This spot means the world to me as well.” 

“Of course it does, my treasure.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Now, I'm sure you're wondering why we're all the way out here. It seemed the perfect spot to start our lives anew once again.”

Astarion snapped his fingers; a servant came running from the carriage to place a box in his hand before backing away reverently. 

“Serafina, my beloved consort, it would please me greatly if you would become my wife.” He opened the box to reveal a ring bearing a heart-shaped ruby surrounded by a cluster of diamonds. The sun glinted off it blindingly. 

Truthfully, the ring was a monstrosity. But she could live with that. A small sacrifice, for the growing warmth inside her that had nothing to do with the sun. Beginning anew: something she was very familiar with. And even without Titania’s power, this time could hold as much promise as the times before. 

“My love, nothing would make me happier,” she said, leaning in for a kiss. 

Astarion gave her a quick peck and hurried to pull the ring from the box and slip it onto her finger. He brushed his lips over her knuckles before releasing her hand. “With that settled, let’s get back to civilization. This wilderness…” 

He trailed off and made a noise of disgust. 

Her heart sank a little; all that travel, and they couldn’t even stay to reminisce for a moment? But Astarion had never been fond of experiencing raw nature, and it wasn’t worth it to try and press him to stay longer and perhaps ruin this better mood of his. And so, her arm wrapped securely in his, she walked back toward the waiting carriage. 

“Perhaps we could stop in and see Halsin, since the road goes through that area,” she offered brightly, stepping into the waiting dark of the carriage. It had been so long since they’d seen any of their friends. 

Behind her, she could feel Astarion’s posture stiffen, the change in his mood tangible. “Is that really your first thought after getting engaged?” 

“Love, it’s just that - well, we haven’t had the chance since…”

“I have business to get back to, my sweet. I’m sure Halsin can be persuaded to endure the city to attend our wedding.”

She nodded, and settled in for the ride back. He was right: there was always the wedding. 

[elorathebard]

The last thing you see before you die

[elorathebard]

Thank you SO so much @elorathebard / @just-a-refrigerator for rendering this beautiful and spicy 😍🥵 scene with my Tav, Lethe, and Gale!! Full render under the cut (I hope you like my "bright idea" for Gale's censor). 🥰😆

.

[elorathebard]

Just finished this commission from the lovely @leomonae, starring her tav from her series Swallowed Up In Victory on AO3! Thank you so much for the commission!

Pictures under the cut because they feature a well-lubed strapon:

Also, a friendly reminder that my commissions are still open! Get the details on my website!

[elorathebard]

"Mooom can we have Tara?"

"No, sweetie, we have Tara at home!"

Tara at home:

[elorathebard]

Kar'niss is officially extracted, rigged up, and ready to go. Come at me, monsterfuckers!

[elorathebard]

I'm currently running a Your Character Here commission deal! Now you, too, can have your custom tav depicted in glorious 3D, defending your favorite blorbo from harm! Details in my carrd.

[elorathebard]

I realize I'm late to the y'allstarion party, but here's my offering. Uncensored and NSFW versions on my bluesky