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rolanpilled · 10 months

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Why I Fell In Love With Rolan, A Character Analysis

I will be going through Rolan's lines, along with the devnotes, to try and explain my interpretation of his character.

This is coming from having spent 30+ hours combing through his dialogues, reading all of his books, listening to every voice line for context, and replaying every scene of his that's currently accessible.

TW: Mentions of abuse, family death, implied suicide

Very long post under cut. Get the Arabellan Dry out!

A few notes before getting into this:

In the game files, Rolan is referred to as "Prodigy", while Cal and Lia are referred to as "ProdigyBrother" and "ProdigySister".

Rolan is a character whose outer words and inner thoughts often do not align - for most of the game, he refuses to show vulnerability in front of Tav, reserving his softness for his siblings. This can be interpreted in a number of ways, ranging from a self-confidence issue to an avoidant attachment style. Though people are free to have their own interpretations, I will mainly be focusing on my own readings of his personality.

I am not a psychologist or a licensed health professional, but I have personal experiences with the mental health disorders I will reference in this post, and I have done a lot of research on the topics involved.

Part 1 - Elturel, and Rolan's past

"Rolan. Just... Rolan."

There isn't much you can tell about Rolan's life except that he's from Elturel and that Cal and Lia are his siblings - after all, he doesn't give you much info in the first place. He doesn't know you, he doesn't trust you. Why would he?

The information you get about his family and his life before BG3 come from minor dialogues, and using Speak With Dead on his corpse. The picture they paint isn't a happy one.

[Player: What's your name?]

[Rolan: Rolan. Just... Rolan.]

[Player: Do you have any family?]

[Rolan: No... family... no one.]

[Player: No family? What about Lia and Cal?]

[Rolan: They are... brother and sister. Cal says... I am family, but...]

Rolan doesn't have a family name. We don't know if Lia and Cal do, but it can be assumed they don't, else he might have taken theirs. The first thing that sticks out to me in this dialogue is that he doesn't consider himself to have a family, even though Cal and Lia say he's part of theirs.

The question is, what could have caused this? If his blood family was simply dead, wouldn't he refer to them as "dead" or "gone"? Instead he says he has "no one" and "no family", perhaps implying that his parents just... abandoned him. Either way, it gives the impression that he has issues with being abandoned, and may project a sense of toughness and arrogance to make up for his insecurity.

And there IS insecurity here - he outright says that Cal and Lia tell him that he's no different from family to them, but deep down, he doesn't seem to be able to accept it. That he can only reveal this information to you after death, having been so guarded in life, is heartbreaking.

As for his life in Elturel, not much is said, but a lot can be inferred from his attitude.

[Cal: Elturel was the last time the three of us talked like this. Let's hope it lasts until Baldur's Gate.]

After leaving Elturel, it appears Rolan, Cal, and Lia didn't have much time to talk. This is from the party scene - a scene where they're drinking, laughing, and joking amongst each other. Clearly the journey hasn't been the easiest for all of them, though one thing we can take from this dialogue is that they've had this friendly, sibling-like relationship for a long time.

From what we know of Elturel and the Descent, things were NOT pretty down in Avernus. Many people died, and after the city was returned to the surface, tieflings were driven out of the city, as we all know. Something important to think about is how exactly this might have gone for the three siblings: how exactly they ended up in the Grove, travelling with the refugees. The context seems to imply that the siblings were travelling on their own, not necessarily considered a part of the group, but this is debatable and not entirely clear.

So what brought them to Baldur's Gate? What finally drove them out of the city? Did they leave before things got worse, or were they driven from their homes with stones and violence? It could really be anything, but the one thing that's clear is that their primary reason for heading to Baldur's Gate is for Rolan to start his apprenticeship with Lorroakan.

We know that Rolan wrote Lorroakan a letter: multiple letters, actually. We're not sure if he wrote to other wizards, but from his dialogue, you can tell that Lorroakan's been someone he's respected for a long time, both for his magical skills and his political beliefs. Though he's never met Lorroakan, you can find a copy of Lorroakan's biography on his desk at Sorcerous Sundries - there's an admiration established early on, and the player is led to believe that Lorroakan is a powerful wizard (though if you bring Gale with you, he comments on Lorroakan's shady reputation, hinting at something darker beneath the surface).

What could have driven Rolan to write so far away, seeking apprenticeship? Was it out of a sense of desperation, wanting to leave the city but needing a way to take care of his siblings? Was it curiosity? A sense that Lorroakan might be his last chance to make something of himself after being denied what he felt like was his rightful destiny? As a tiefling, he must have faced some discrimination for his heritage - I can speak to my own experience here, growing up as a person of color in a majority-white community was genuinely traumatizing to myself and my non-white friends. Not only do we receive open bullying and ostracization for our appearance, there's something even more insidious that often happens to minority populations - neglect. A general disinterest in our accomplishments, a lack of encouragement and attention towards kids that don't fit the norm. If this was something Rolan had to experience, it's no wonder he felt angry and eager to prove himself. He's been neglected his all his life, and he finally has a chance to show everyone who doubted him that he really does have the potential to be a great wizard.

Rolan himself appears to be in his mid- to late- twenties, bringing up the question of what he's been doing his entire life if not magic. It's mentioned that he was able to conjure a flaming cat from when Cal was as young as 8, so depending on the age difference between the siblings, Rolan might have known magic from a very early age. So why, then, is he a mere wizard apprentice at the start of the game? He's surely had a lot of time to learn himself.

[Lia: Try not to get too close, Cal.]

[Rolan: Yes. Remember what happened last time?]

[Cal: I was eight and you magicked up a kitten. How was I supposed to know it was made of fire?]

What could have happened along the way? He might have just not found the time or the opportunity to be able to study, especially as a tiefling without a family or the money to pay for an education. In my interpretation, Rolan carries a lot of unvoiced shame for not having been able to "fulfill his destiny" until now. He projects an outward mask of confidence and arrogance to hide his vulnerability, his insecurities - that his family isn't really his family, and that he isn't really destined for greatness. His natural reaction to vulnerability is anger and denial, which we'll explore more in the later sections.

(It is mentioned in the devnotes, though, that Rolan "has truly worked his ass off to get here". Prodigy is not an ironic title - he's likely had to self-study to the point where Lorroakan felt that he had potential. He has a right to be confident, but it doesn't negate any potential feelings of unworthiness.)

Additional info - Rolan, Cal, and Lia, on top of having known each other since Cal was 8, also share a mother figure, who is deceased. There is no mention of a father. It could be that this was Lia and Cal's actual mother, who took Rolan in, or a number of other possibilities - it could be that ROLAN'S mother took the three in, or that she just happened to be an unrelated woman who adopted three orphans.

[Cal: We should have a little party when we reach the city, like we did for mum.]

[Rolan: That 'little party' lasted from sundown to sunrise. Lia would like that.]

This dialogue can only be accessed if Lia dies but Cal and Rolan live.

So we've set up a few key details about Rolan's personality: his arrogance may harbor hints of insecurity or desperation, he has issues with feeling abandoned or neglected, and he's potentially been denied his chance to learn magic in the past. We will explore these in detail in the next few sections, along with another troubling tendency of his - perfectionism, and the self-blame that comes with it.

Part 2 - The Grove

"I'll not gamble our lives, our futures, for people who are as good as dead."

If you recall his dialogue in the grove, Rolan seems to distance himself from the other refugees, focusing only on the safety of his siblings. Let's unpack this in his own words -

[Rolan: This isn't Elturel and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!]

[Rolan: I made no such oath, and I will not be held responsible for these people.]

This is in contrast to Lia, who believes that they should help what she considered to be their 'kin'. Remember that Rolan often refers to the refugees in a detached way, refusing to associate himself with them.

At a first glance, it might seem like Rolan is fixated on his apprenticeship - he wants to get to Baldur's Gate straight away, so he can begin studying under Lorroakan. Lia accuses him of the same, causing Rolan to react with anger.

But if you think about what Rolan's underlying motivations might be, you might have realized something that Cal and Lia most likely recognized too - he's worried for his siblings' safety.

The grove is an open, unprotected area, and they're being menaced by druids on one side, goblins on the other. There's only a few fighters, Rolan, Cal and Lia among them, and none of them are strong enough to take on either group. Even if Rolan feels a sort of kinship with the other tieflings - which I'll expand on in a second - he prioritizes the lives of his siblings over them, and doesn't want them to sacrifice themselves for people he doesn't even know.

Now, the other theory - what if Rolan doesn't identify with the other tieflings, because he's been cast out by them before?

I'm going to inject my personal experience as an immigrant here. Life as an immigrant can be profoundly isolating, especially if you have few relatives in the area. Rolan may have been so attached to Cal and Lia because they took him in when his own people rejected him - for some reason, even other tieflings could have seen him as an "outsider", and refused to help him when his parents abandoned him or died. If you tie in the theory that he was a tiefling born to human parents (which would be taboo), it could have been that they rejected him for not "being tiefling enough". I'm aware that in-universe there's no one unified "culture" of tieflings, but even in groups without a unified culture, there are still small pockets of people with certain internal customs. It could be that Rolan failed to fit in due to his heritage, that he was rejected for his personality, or some other reason, but my interpretation for his refusal to help fellow tieflings is that he never quite felt the same kinship for them that Cal and Lia did. It could also be that he holds resentment towards them for abandoning him - abandonment seems to be a central theme in Rolan's story, and likely contributes to his feelings of inferiority and unworthiness.

(He does seem to know Infernal, though I don't know whether that's a cultural thing or an innate trait to tieflings.)

If the fight is held at the grove, Rolan, Cal, and Lia stand near the back of the cave to protect the children. They can be found arguing with each other on potential battle positions. Afterwards, if the tieflings and all three of the siblings survive, they can be found by the entrance of the cave, where Rolan again behaves arrogantly towards you and claims he could have handled the goblins on his own.

All of this is quite standard for his character and projects the image of an arrogant, selfish person who only seeks to protect himself and the people that matter to him, which is likely what he wants. It also lends some credibility to the interpretation where he was rejected by other refugees - if he felt neutral towards other tieflings, it might have made more sense if he was less derisive towards them. Instead, he consistently detaches himself from his people, drawing clear lines between them, with a hint of bitterness that seems to have a painful origin.

The rest of Act 1 is Rolan acting like his standard self - bratty, arrogant, and dismissive of others. That is how most of us met him, though he won't stay that way for long.

Part 3 - Moonrise

"But what good am I if I can't do this... this one thing?"

(Author's note: "This one thing" is travelling alone through a cursed, necrotic land, breaking into a prison staffed with dozens of trained guards, and personally facing an immortal chosen of the literal god of death. Rolan is a Level 4 wizard.)

As you already know, at the start of Act 2 Rolan is drinking himself to death alone. His brother and sister have been dragged away screaming by the cultists, and he's overwhelmed at the thought of never seeing them again. Naturally, he's quite angry with you, but if you read his lines closely, you can see that you're not the only person he's angry at.

[Rolan: Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing!] [Devnote: Furious - mainly with himself]

[Player: You're supposed to be at Last Light.]

[Rolan: I'm supposed to be saving Cal and Lia!] [Devnote: Frantic, worried for his siblings]

[Rolan: Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.] [Devnote: Pissed off and taking it out on the player]

[Player: You were trying to help your family - you're too hard on yourself.]

[Rolan: Or not hard enough.]

[Rolan: I've failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way - I'll return to Last Light... I know when I'm outmatched.]

Rolan is someone who feels deeply responsible for the safety of his siblings (this lends credence to the idea that he's the eldest of the three). He may argue and bicker with them, but he could never abandon then, nor could he forgive himself if something were to happen to them. He is clearly carrying an unbearable amount of grief and guilt for allowing his siblings to be captured, but he's so emotionally repressed that he chooses to bury his sorrow under a mound of anger. Being drunk doesn't help - it's mentioned by one of the kids, Ide, that he's been through three bottles of wine by the time the player reaches the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

That much is obvious just from reading his lines, but his angry reaction to the player is, as the devnotes say, a way of taking out his pain and frustration on other people. He might feel guilty about it later, but in the moment, it's the only way he knows how to cope with them. This isn't his only instance of externalizing his self-hatred.

If Cal dies and Lia lives, the player has the option to break up an argument between Lia and Rolan. If they fail to neutralize the situation, Rolan will tell Lia (or Cal, depending on who lives) to get out of his sight permanently.

[Rolan: You deserve nothing. You two are cowardly parasites, and I am disgusted it took me this long to see. Get out of my sight.] [Devnote: Furious in his grief, lashing out, being as hurtful as he can to his surviving sibling]

[Lia: Fuck you, Rolan!]

[Lia: Insufferable, arrogant little prick. Argh.]

[Lia: Everything is about him, everything is about his pain. Godsdamnit, Rolan!]

It says a lot to me that if one of his siblings dies, that he has to be convinced out of lashing out at his surviving one. He seems to be like a person who deals with strong emotions by lashing out, likely as a defense mechanism to make himself appear stronger than he feels. This is a common technique used by people with self-esteem issues - to avoid drawing attention to their own vulnerability, they lash out and externalize their feelings with anger to bury the grief. Lia says as much in this ending - to Rolan, everything is about his pain, and he's managing it in the only way he knows how. He knows he's hurting his siblings, he knows it's wrong, but he engages in it anyway, a common trait of people who dislike themselves. If Rolan didn't have his apprenticeship, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the death of his siblings might have caused him to spiral and give up on life altogether.

Interestingly enough, in the end where both Rolan and one of his siblings die, it's implied that the remaining sibling commits suicide. You can read more about it here - it gives some insight into Rolan's motivations, and serves to emphasize exactly how much this apprenticeship means to him. Rolan lives for two things, though it really just is one thing - his siblings, and his apprenticeship, which means more to him because it represents a hopeful future for his siblings. Every clue in the game points to his siblings being everything to him.

But let's move away from this bad ending for one second, and back to where we are. Rolan's been drinking himself silly, yelling at children, and eventually storms out into the SCL by himself. Being an apprentice wizard, few expect him to survive on his own, and true to form, he has to be rescued by the player again.

Though I think this line is currently bugged and unavailable, he actually has lines reacting to the shadows.

[Rolan: My magic is not to be trifled with - leave or die!] [Devnote: Exhausted and scared, but trying not to sound it]

Rolan, emotionally repressed fool he is, is once again attempting to appear big in order to protect himself from what he fears. Whether it's the shadows, or the loss of his siblings, he reacts to stressful situations with a brave front, attempting to push people away so they won't see him at his worst state.

This is one of the common symptoms of an avoidant attachment disorder - an attachment style that causes people to push others away if they get too close, avoiding emotional closeness and being uncomfortable expressing vulnerability to others. I interpret Rolan as having this kind of attachment style, which is often formed from neglect or abuse as a child, resulting in a self-sufficient but emotionally cold person. It can lead to the breakdowns of close relationships, as evidenced by Rolan pushing away his surviving sibling (potentially in order to save himself the grief of having to go through their death again). People with this disorder often cut off people before they can be cut off, in order to save themselves the pain of being abandoned again.

Some recognize the negative impact of their behaviors more than most, and though Rolan never comments on it, it can be inferred that he feels some measure of guilt for the way he behaves. If convinced to lay off of his surviving sibling, he immediately apologizes, recognizing his mistake.

[Cal: Do you wish it was me who died? Instead of Lia?]

[Rolan: Gods no, that's not what I meant. Never, Cal. Never!] [Devnote: Realizes what he's just said. Backtracking, apologizing, sincere]

[Rolan: Shit. I'm sorry.] [Devnote: Disgusted with himself and what he's just said. Looking away, sincere apology]

[Cal: Me too.]

We can see here that Rolan IS capable of self-reflection and guilt - it just takes more than a nudge to get it out of him. He says as much if you manage to rescue both siblings, thanking you and apologizing for his behavior - not an empty apology, or made out of necessity, but a genuine, heartfelt admission of guilt and gratitude. This kind of mature response from him says a lot about his character, and hints at a capacity for further growth in Act 3.

As Cal says, Rolan can be stubborn, but he's never malicious. I see this as an indicator of the immense guilt he holds inside him - though he externalizes his rage towards anyone and everyone, deep down, the person he blames the most is himself.

Which leads me directly into a talk about perfectionism, one of Rolan's defining character traits.

Rolan, at his core, is a perfectionist. The feelings of failure for not being able to save his siblings, the arrogance that belies a certain type of self-hatred, and a willingness to attack others in order to deflect from his own vulnerability - all of these traits tie heavily into perfectionism, which Rolan consistently displays traits of. At the start of the game, he spends every line with the player bragging about how he and Lorroakan are going to become household names, how they will boast of this meeting to others. To an extent, I'm sure he believes it. He's just been invited to what he considers to be a prestigious apprenticeship, despite everyone having considered him a failure. Naturally, he's excited despite the trauma of Elturel and Avernus, and wants to get to Lorroakan immediately in order to fulfill his destiny (he refers to it as his destiny several times throughout the game).

This makes what happens next all the more tragic.

Part 4 - Baldur's Gate, Lorroakan, and ending the Cycle of Abuse

Picture this - you've been rejected, abandoned, considered a lost cause for most of your life, accepted only by the siblings you just barely avoided losing forever. But the journey was worth it. You're finally here, in the city you've dreamed of, studying under who in your opinion is one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world.

Then you get there, and you don't learn a thing. Your teacher asks you nonsensical questions and beats you as a punishment when you're wrong. It's unsurprising that when the player enters Sorcerous Sundries, that Rolan seems a bit more dejected than usual.

Much has been said about the depiction of abuse in media, but as a survivor of domestic violence, I found Rolan's reaction and justification of his abuse very accurate for someone suffering from DV. True to his personality, the very first thing he does is deny that anything's wrong, continuing his trend of burying his emotions in the hope that they'll go away.

[Player: I know the marks of subjugation. Your face - what happened?]

[Rolan: Nothing for you to worry about.] [Devnote: Master Lorroakan hurt him, but he doesn't want to say]

[Narrator: *His voice catches. Something's wrong here.*]

Survivors of DV often feel great shame towards their abuse, often blaming themselves and refusing to speak about it out of fear of appearing vulnerable. True to that, Rolan doesn't say anything about what Lorroakan's doing it, resorting to another common tactic for abuse survivors - implying what's happening without directly stating that the abuse is occurring. This is often out of fear, especially if the victim is still close to the abuser - in this case, Rolan not wanting to jeopardize his apprenticeship, or possibly be abused further for disclosing it to someone else.

[Rolan: Be very sure before you make to visit Lorroakan. He's got a beastly temper.] [Devnote: Sounds a bit disappointed in the player]

[Rolan: Master Lorroakan is... a difficult man.] [Devnote: Gently touches bruised face, distant]

Abuse survivors often hold a great deal of guilt for 'allowing' themselves to be abused, more so if the abuser considers them weak or easy to manipulate. There's often a stigma - "why didn't you just leave? You knew it was bad, yet you stayed, so there must be some blame on your part." This is not an uncommon belief amongst survivors, and through his journal entries, it can be inferred that Rolan holds a similar belief. Rolan's journal, and his VA's fantastic reading of it, can be found here. Rolan is clearly aware that what's being done to him is wrong, but he persists - in my opinion, partially because he believes it's worth the benefits involved, and partially because he feels a responsibility towards his siblings to succeed after 'failing' them so tragically before. Again, perfectionism, guilt, internalized self-hatred: easy traits for a horrible man like Lorroakan to take advantage of.

There are a few possible endings for Rolan here, the first being if you side against the Nightsong with Lorroakan.

The thing about abuse, as Larian so excellently portrays it, is that it is often perpetuated in cycles. A person who's been hurt is more likely to hurt others, whether as a response to their pain, or in an attempt to spread their misery in order to feel less alone. Though not all survivors become perpetrators themselves, many perpetrators are survivors themselves. Rolan is no different - if Nightsong is captured, and Lorroakan is killed in the fight, he will immediately attempt to cage the Nightsong himself and harness her immortality. This could easily be seen as an attempt to get strong enough that no one can ever hurt or take advantage of him again.

When the player next long rests, Rolan will be found dead, having been killed by Aylin - perhaps a mercy, to avoid him from becoming just the same as Lorroakan.

But the player who cares for Rolan wouldn't let this happen to him, right?

Rolan's attitude towards the player gradually changes over time, but nothing shows his growth more than his good ending, where you save Cal and Lia and side with the Nightsong. When you bring Nightsong to the tower, Rolan will be shocked, in disbelief that the Nightsong was a person all along. He turns against Lorroakan on the spot despite the other man's threats to ruin his life (a common tactic employed by abusers to control their victims).

[Lorroakan: Boy! At the ready. Once I've taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.]

[Rolan: No, Master Lorroakan. I would have never assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.]

[Rolan: You lied to get the Nightsong here. Made us all believe she was nothing but a relic. I have seen what true leadership can accomplish - but never under your tutelage.]

[Lorroakan: Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it so that no wizard in the realm will touch you.]

[Rolan: If they're all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.]

It takes an immense amount of courage to stand up to one's abuser, so to see Rolan so bravely stand against the man who hurt him was a positive surprise to me. It also shows just how much the player has changed Rolan for the better - your leadership and selflessness has inspired him, given him the bravery to stand against his abuser. It's a powerful scene, and I admit that watching it brought a tear to my eye, brief as it was. Few people get the chance to take revenge on their abusers, so it was cathartic to see Rolan thunderwaving him onto the balcony before letting Aylin snap his spine.

After the fight, Rolan thanks the player, finally feeling safe enough after his abuser's death to reveal what happened to him. Though it's implied that he feels some shame for being victimized, much of it is likely from the shock of the sudden event, and by the next day he's regained much of his enthusiasm - he still has the ego, but with less arrogance and more acceptance of the player's presence. Rolan's growth, from hating and mistrusting the player to eventually trusting them enough to show his true, kind self to them, is what really made me fall in love with him and his character arc.

Ultimately, Rolan's story isn't just about learning to lay down your pride and accept help from others - it's about abandoning perfectionism and elitism, accepting your own faults, and choosing to grow as a person. For Rolan, the player begins as an annoying, meddlesome force, someone who "moralizes" to him about saving others when he wants no part in doing what's considered "right". By the end of the game, he realizes just how lucky he is to have you in his life - without the player's influence, he could have easily gone down the worst path, the path of narcissism, ego, and disregard for others. But because of a string of coincidences, he was saved from that fate, and was allowed to grow and accept that there's enough room in his heart for more than just the few people that care about him. He learns to lay down the perfectionism, accept that making mistakes is a part of change, and feel his feelings for what they are - whether they're gratitude, fear, or even sadness.

For someone who struggles with avoidant attachment disorder, seeing Rolan's character change throughout the game greatly inspired me to change the way I was approaching my own relationships with people. Avoidant attachment disorder is not talked about very often, both in the medical field and in everyday life, and people suffering from it are often misunderstood or considered to be 'lost causes' - to see Rolan so capable of change inspired me to change myself, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way.

When he takes over Ramazith's Tower, Rolan decides to distribute Lorroakan's knowledge to the world, and tells you about his plans to open a library. This is the most obvious sign that he's changed - the player's willingness to help him despite getting little or nothing in exchange has inspired him, and he becomes a kinder, more open person. He learns to trust again, to love again. It's unclear what happens afterwards, as he's not present in the epilogue, but the heartwarming conclusion to his arc can be seen in the issue of the Baldur's Mouth Gazette after Lorroakan's death -

Despite everything, Rolan makes it to the end, having vanquished the trials in front of him with the help of the player. He gets his tower, his knowledge, and shares it with the realms, finally able to realize that he's worthy and deserving of a happy life.

Thank you to Larian for bringing Rolan's story to life, to Mr. Taylor for his excellent portrayal of this character, and to all the Rolan fans for showing him so much love every single day.

I have met so many amazing and talented friends from the community around this character, and I'll forever be grateful for everyone who showed him the love I feel towards him.

I can be found on twitter at @gimblebock.

#rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #rolan cal lia #lorroakan #bg3 lore #long post

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omgkalyppso · 1 year

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BG3 Act 1 asks

I am intentionally putting the number of the inquiry at the end of each question also because I have a pet peeve that when you copy paste questions into an ask that the number doesn't carry over.

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision? (1)

Was there something about the character creator that just couldn't capture your Character? Please tell us about their hair, facial hair, tattoos, piercings, disabilities, their trans or intersex body, or anything else you're comfortable sharing. (2)

Has your Character been using their illithid powers? (3)

Do you remember in which order you recruited your companions? Which companion introduction would have felt the most familiar / like home to your Tav / Character? (4)

Do you remember the first humanoid enemy your Character killed? Was it the first person they've ever killed, in your opinion? Would they have been bothered by it? (5)

Were you able to save everyone when the goblins stormed the gates at the Grove? (6)

Did you enter the Grove? (7)

Do you have a favorite member of the Druid Circle? Is it the same as your Character's? (8)

Do you have a favorite member of the Tiefling Refugees? Is it the same as your Character's? (9)

Do you have a favorite member of the Goblin Camp? Is it the same as your Character's? (10)

Do you have a favorite member of the Act 1 Githyanki? Is it the same as your Character's? (11)

Do you have a favorite member of the Zhentarim? Is it the same as your Character's? (12)

Do you have a favorite character from the Underdark? Is it the same as your Character's? (13)

Do you have another NPC you loved from a faction not mentioned above? What about your Character? (14)

How did the situation with the Grove, the Tieflings and the Goblins turn out for your Character? (15)

Did you save Halsin? (16)

What does your Character think of Withers? (17)

How did your Character deal with Wyll, Karlach and Mizora? (18)

Did your Character spend a night with a companion either the night of the party or earlier? Is it someone they have a continued interest in? (19)

How did you deal with The Artist - Oskar Fevras? Did you even encounter him? (20)

What are your Character's thoughts on the strange artifact that was in Shadowheart's possession? Did it jump to your pack because you changed her out of your party? (21)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Sovereign Glut, if you met them? (22)

What are your Character's thoughts on the dream visitor? (23)

Was your illithid tadpole empowered by anything in Act 1? If so, how does your Character feel about that? (24)

Did your Character take the mountain pass? (25)

What was your favorite enemy? Did your Character have any memorable fights or moments in combat that were ripe for headcanons and interpretation? (26)

Who ended up in your Character's most used party? (27)

Did you recruit Scratch the dog? Did you encounter him at all? (28)

Did you adopt an owlbear? Do you have a name for your child? (29)

Do you have other pets as a ranger or in headcanon? (30)

Does your Character have new or old phobias or superstitions that affect their story? (31)

What's your Character's experience with and opinion of Volo? (32)

Has your Character allied with the cult of the Absolute? (33)

How did your Character resolve the situation with Nere and the gnomes? (34)

Has your Character done anything that they regret in Act 1? (35)

Did your Character find the Adamantine Forge? Did they use it? What did they make? (36)

Did your Character find the Necromancy of Thay? How are they handling it / planning to handle it? (37)

Did your Character meet Barcus Wroot? How's he doing? (38)

What does your Character think of Raphael? (39)

Is your Character used to strange dreams from before the events of the adventure? (40)

Is your Character accustomed to being on the road from before the events of the adventure? (41)

Has your Character been to the Underdark from before the events of the adventure? (42)

Asker has a question not from the list. (43)

Asker wants Blogger to choose a question from the list. (44)

I love your oc's! I hope you're enjoying the game as much as I am!

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #long post #feel free to send me asks about étoile

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commander-rahrah · 1 year

Text

Talking to the Moon

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~5000 (haha.. whoops) Warnings: slightly suggestive for a tiny moment but SFW, swearing, PTSD, trauma, past/implied abuse, fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

Summary: Set in early Act II. Reader/Tav's origin of their powers is revealed to the party and there is a negative reaction to it. Astarion attempts to comfort reader with his usual routine and provide a "distraction" but gets rejected. He begins to question their own reasoning and feelings, and realizing that he might be feeling something… different.

Note: This is still a GN!Reader/Tav in second perspective with no names or y/n. However, there is some backstory (noble background and a deity) and appearance descriptors (only freckles and hair colour) assigned to the reader/Tav. I really enjoy the dynamic of the moon/stars that I have with my own Tav named Olympia and Astarion and for this particular idea I wrote I felt the backstory was too important to leave out!

I am an avid D&D player and I loooove making OCs (its a problem I have like 30) but this particular backstory and character that this is based off of is very dear to me, so I really hope your enjoy!

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

You were all gathered on the grounds just outside of the Last Light Inn, heading back inside the main doors with Jaheira and Isobel. The safe haven protected from the forces of the Absolute — thanks to you and your companions quick action. The remaining Tieflings and the other inhabitants of the inn still shaken from the sudden attack, but resting safely inside. “I’m thankful you were all here to stop the attack.” The cleric of Selûne said softly.

Isobel then looked over her shoulder at you, stopping for a moment as she looked you over from head to toe. “And you... I recognize my goddess’s powers within you — but they are so different from mine. Your magic is not born out of devotion for her.”

“What is she talking about?” Shadowheart asked from your side, whipping her head to you so fast her black braid flung out behind her.

You swallowed. You had been dreading this conversation. Fearing the moment it came out. “Yes, I, uh—,” You stumbled over your words, your tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth. “I was blessed by Selûne as a babe.”

Isobel raised her eyebrows, her lips stretching into a slight smile. “A blessing indeed. A drop of Selûne's own powers lives within you. You use it well.”

You bowed your head, your cheeks flushing a bright shade. Embarrassment and chagrin flooding you as every single member of your party turned to face you — varying reactions on all of them.

You eyes were still on your boots as both Isobel and Jaheira bid you a goodnight, telling you of your own rooms upstairs before disappearing amongst the many doors of the inn. The rest of your party quiet — not even Astarion had opened his mouth to fill the silence with a comment or joke.

The voice who broke it was the one you had dreaded the most. Shadowheart’s voice was a harsh whisper, but it still cut you deeply. “I cannot believe you. You’ve been lying to me this whole time!”

You winced, your teeth biting into your cheek, “I wasn’t lying. I just… didn’t tell you.”

“You just didn’t tell me that you are blessed with divine magic from my goddess’ enemy.” The dark-haired cleric scoffed, her nose crinkling so much that the scar across her face shrank considerably.

You thought of all the nights around the campfire sharing soft laughs, the early mornings that you helped braid her hair. This was why you had been avoiding it. You didn't want to lose that. Shadowheart had become a friend, an ally. “I didn’t want to ruin anything, we’ve grown so close and… it’s not like I worship her. I don’t say my prayers to her every night, I was just a babe—“

“Well I do!” She raised her voice, a few passing Harper’s stirring in shock at the outburst before shuffling away. “In Shar’s name. This is unbelievable — I’ve been mere feet away from you this whole time.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But you kept your devotion to Shar a secret and when it did come out all of us have been nothing but accepting.” Your eyebrows were furrowed together in worry. This was going exactly as you had dreaded. You’d hope your friendship would be something she would consider however…

“Alsoooo,” Astarion drawled, “The last time you had a disagreement with one of us, we woke up to you holding a knife to Lae'zel’s neck. Can you really blame them for not bringing it up?” He wagged his fingers at her, a single white brow raised.

Her nostrils flared as she flashed a look to the vampire, before turning back to you. “This is no disagreement. This is wrong, this is against everything my lady stands for."

“Shadowheart, please. You are my friend—“ You began to beg, but the cleric cut you off.

“No. Not anymore. We will continue to travel together to reach Moonrise Towers. We will get rid of these tadpoles and then we are done.” She spat.

“I—,” You choked, unable to think of what else to say. How else to defend yourself. You realized that Shadowheart’s mind was made up, no matter what you said right now.

“Shadowheart,” Astarion cut in again, stepping in front of you almost protectively. “Enough.” His voice a low growl.

Gale and Wyll stepped forward too, concern etched on their face. Karlach’s own features were torn — her eyes flitting between you and Shadowheart with immense worry. Lae'zel remained in the back, her muscular arms crossed over her chest as she observed silently.

The dark haired cleric shook her head, a loud breath escaping her before she stormed off up the stairs. Her armor and weapons clanking loudly as she stormed away.

“Princess, come on!” Karlach shouted after her, starting up the stairs. But she paused for a moment, stretching out to grab your elbow gently. “It’ll be alright giggles, ok? Don’t worry about it.”

You could only nod as you watched the Tiefling chase after her, both of them disappearing upstairs.

“Well, that was hard to watch.“ Wyll murmered, offering you a pained smile.

You waited for the sound of a door slamming above, before turning to head up the stairs yourself. You felt your throat tighten as you fought to keep your tears at bay. "Today was a lot. I think I’m just going to find my room now.” You barely waved goodbye as you took the worn steps two at a time, disappearing from your group without a backwards glance as a few tears broke free.

“Wait, do you need—“ Gale began to trail behind you, his brows knitted together and face pained.

“Let them be, Gale.” Astarion waved a hand to stop him pursing you up the stairs. “Let them drop the mask for a while. If you go barging in there right away, they will paint a smile on their face and act like everything is fine.”

A look of surprise crossed his face before the wizard let his shoulders slump, “You’re right.”

A sound of delight escaped the vampire, before he cupped his pale fingers around his pointed ear, “I beg your pardon, could you say that again? I didn’t hear you.”

Gale let out a large huff, before he admitted “I said you’re right. I’ll let them be.”

“Oooh, Gale. If you’re trying to woo me, at least buy me dinner first.” Astarion pretended to twirl his hair, before flashing him a wicked grin.

Gale pushed his face into a palm, letting out another exasperated sound. “Gods, save me.”

• • •

You were sat on the bed, your back pressed into the back of the headboard with your knees pressed to your chest. It had been a few hours before the tears had finally stopped, leaving you feeling even more exhausted and drained. You weren’t sure when the news of what lived inside you would come out — but it went exactly as you feared it had. The betrayal and anger on Shadowheart’s face was repeating over and over in your mind. The rest of your party had seemed accepting… but it was hard to tell what exactly they were thinking.

A sudden knock at your door had you scrambling to right yourself, wiping at your damp cheeks and eyes with the back of your hands. You fixed your shirt, and stretched out your legs to look as if you were just relaxing on the bed before letting out, “Come in.”

Your voice sounded much more meek than intended.

Astarion poked his head through the door, a strange combination of both hesitation and curiosity painted across his pale face. “Hello pet,” He purred, lingering in the door way for a moment.

“Astarion, hi.” You sat up a little straighter, surprised to see him. “Come in.”

He shut the door softly behind him, “Feeling any better? Or did Shadowheart come find you for an encore?”

You shook your head, “No, she’s stayed in her room — thank the gods. I don’t think I could handle another moment like that tonight.”

His eyes betrayed him for a moment, glancing to the floor, “Yes, well usually I would say it’s entertaining watching someone else’s drama unfold… but I didn’t enjoy that.”

He swayed over to the bed, sitting on the edge. Not close enough to touch, but you couldn’t help the small fluttering that erupted in your belly as he sat next to you. How casual it seemed, how easy it had become.

You shoved the thought away, instead scrunching your mouth up as you spoke, “I was avoiding it for a reason. I feel terrible... I shouldn't have hidden it for so long.”

“Well, if you were looking for a distraction…” He stretched his hand over to you and drew lazy circles on your knee before dragging it up to your thigh. “I can be of some assistance.” A seductive smile curved his lips, his eyes darkening.

Your expression crumbled as the crack you had just soothed in your chest starting to form again. “That’s all you see me as, isn’t it?”

“What?” He asked, his hand freezing on your leg.

“Sex. That’s the only way you see me.”

“I—“ His eyes widened with bewilderment, before he blinked at you. “I don’t— I mean.” He continued to stammer, his fanged mouth hanging open in genuine shock.

You let out a sad sigh, your eyebrows furrowing like you were in pain. You were. The ache in your chest was growing tenfold, the familiar feeling of your heart crawling up your throat returning. “I’m not in the mood Astarion. If you want to feed, do it and go.”

He instantly pulled his hand away at your rejection, clutching it to his chest with the other one. He didn’t give an apology, nor did he seem interested in your offer to feed. His red eyes were blinking animatedly, as if confused. Before he bowed his head and got off the bed quickly. Then the sound of the door clicking softly behind him an instant later.

You couldn’t hear his steps in the hall even if you wanted to — so instead you rolled over onto your side, curling your limbs into yourself as you screwed your face up once more and cried.

• • •

Astarion didn’t know what to think. What to do.

No one had ever rejected him before. This is what he did, this is what he was built for. To manipulate. To seduce.

To play the dazzling, charming distraction. He used to target the lonely, the distressed and upset… it made the hunt so much easier. And Cazador used to praise him for it — he said the miserable and desperate tasted so much better.

But you weren’t like those easy targets. You weren’t simple, and he should have known better. You were complex and contradictory — not something he appreciated in a target. But something he could appreciate in a fellow person. Things were becoming to muddled, too confusing.

Gods dammit, he had been so foolish. His entire plan could be falling apart now — you sitting up in your room alone mulling everything over.

But what really bothered him wasn’t the idea of his plan falling apart. That his protection from his old master could be gone by morning, leaving him behind to suffer the consequences.

No, what really bothered him, what he was really afraid of was how upset you’d been. That he was the cause of that.

Astarion's skin felt hot and crawling as he realized he had treated you as others had treated him all these years. Trying to use your desire as a way to override any other feeling. To seduce you into acquiescence, to fool you into thinking you needed only him. It disgusted him, what he’d done. Shame coursed through him and his fingers clenched onto his leather clad knee.

He was grateful for the little dark attic he had found above the barn — grateful to be away from the prying eyes of the rest of the party. He couldn't explain this to them, he wouldn't.

A splash of wet splashed onto the back of his hand and he realized he was crying. He'd forgotten he could do that. He'd stopped so many years ago, numbing and willing himself so that none would come. So that despite the pain or hurt he was feeling, his tears would not be there to give Cazador anymore satisfaction. His master didn't need anymore physical evidence of his anguish — his screams and blood and broken body was enough. He had stopped crying years ago. Until tonight.

Wiping his face, he took a steadying breath he knew he didn't need. And then again for good measure. He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but he stood up with a slightly trembling body. He needed to fix this. For you. For himself.

Before he knew it he was back outside of your door, his fist hovering just above the painted wood. His other hand was picking at the seam of the side of his leather pants nervously. His red eyes stared at the little tray of food he'd brought up for you — resting on the hallway table as he waited to see if you would even let him in. A peace offering he'd thought. A way to get his foot in the door before he could… explain. Apologize.

Chewing his lip, he finally let his knuckles rap on the door. He lingered for a moment, before opening it slightly. The small crack in the door angled enough to reveal you still laid in the bed, your back to the door as you were curled up on the mattress. Guilt flooded through him all over again.

“Gale, I told you I’m fine—"

He pushed the door open a little more, just enough so that is creaked to get your attention. He only poked his head through, enough for you to see his pale face as you strained your neck to look over your shoulder.

“Oh. It’s you.”

Astarion swallowed at the sound of your disappointment. It was not something he ever wished to hear again if he could. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he looked down, unable to look you in the eye, “Will you let me try again?”

“What?”

He finally looked up, his red eyes round and soft, “Let me try again.”

You gave him a hard to read look, before nodding curtly.

Astarion grabbed the door, not closing it fully but just enough that the lock bounced softly back. His pale knuckles knocked again gently, before he heard you let out an exasperated breath. “Come in.”

A sheepish, tight lipped smile spread across his face as he stepped fully into the room and looked at you. You were sitting up in the bed now, your arms crossed over yourself with an unimpressed look on your face. He used his foot to close the door quietly as he held his peace offering behind him.

“I won’t bother you, if you don’t want company. But I noticed you hadn’t eaten. I brought you dinner.” He pulled the tray out from behind his back, showing it to you.

“Oh.”

“And a glass of wine.” He placed everything carefully onto the nightstand, before backing away towards the door. “It’s disgusting.”

A soft laugh escaped you, “Thank you." You took a small sip of the wine, before twisting your face. “Ugh — you are right, that is disgusting.”

“I’m almost certain I saw those Tiefling children your so fond of mixing it themselves. Pray this is a part time gig and they don’t become bartenders in the future.”

The two of you let snickers out through your noses, before the room turned quiet again. “Thank you for bringing this up. I mean it.”

“You’re very welcome.” He shuffled his feet, unsure if that was a dismissal or not. But he also found himself not wanting to leave. His hands were behind his back, his own fingers intertwining and squeezing tightly. “I’m… I’m sorry for how you were treated today. It wasn’t fair.”

Your eyes flashed down, your brow crinkling. “It’s okay—“

Astarion shook his head profusely, “No, it’s not. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t owe any of us anything — not your story, or … or anything else. What you decide to tell us, what you trust us with... that is your choice.”

“Thank you. It’s not that I don’t trust you all, I do… I just.”

He cut you off gently, “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I know.” Your finger was playing with the rim of the wine glass in mesmerizing circles, over and over. “I do, trust you though.”

His red eyes lifted from your hands, to give you a quizzical look, “Now, why in the heavens would you do that?”

Your laugh was music to his ears. Full and bright. You shrugged, putting the glass back onto the nightstand — abandoning it and the dinner for another moment. “I just do.”

The vampire couldn't stop the purr that escaped his lips, “Hmmm, other members of our merry party would disapprove.”

“Probably. I think they disapprove of most of my interactions with you.” You said quietly, picking at the blanket you were sat upon.

The room filled with silence for a moment as you thought. “I was just a baby… when it happened. I was born ill — so weak and tired, it was almost like I was a dead. My parents threw all of their power and wealth at every scholar and healer they knew to try and cure me.”

Astarion’s eyebrows shot up as you spoke, joining you carefully on the bed. Much further then his previous visit. His hands settled onto his own lap as he listened.

“Nothing would work. And with every failed attempt, father become more and more distant. And mother became more and more desperate, hoping for any miracle she could find. She began to pray to any God that would listen, traveling to their shrines and statues. One night, my mother had fallen asleep crying while kneeling next to me. She said she awoke to a breeze and silver light — and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen was standing over us. Her hair was set in long silver waves, a flowing dress cascading over her curves, and a small smile on her lips as she watched the scene of mother and child. 'Selûne?' My mother asked, and the ethereal woman merely smiled again. 'I heard your prayers and felt your tears as if they were mine own. No mother should know the loss of their child.' As I slept, she touched my hair lightly, telling my mother I was pure and good-hearted. Selûne told her that she would help me, but that I would have a calling that would lead me away from my normal life of nobility and comfort. After my mother agreed, a white light shone through the Goddess’ hand, spreading into my hair, into my body and creating an aura around me. My hair turned silvery white, and star-like freckles began to shine all over my skin.” Your fingertips danced across your face, touching the skin that showed the blessing.

Astarion was gobsmacked, his eyes lingering over your silver hair and the freckles that dusted your nose and cheeks. His mind struggling to keep up with the information. “So, what Isobel said is true… a drop of Selûne's power lives in you?”

You nodded your head weakly, avoiding his stare.

“Gods… Why tell me this?”

You only offered a soft smile, “I wanted you to know.”

A thousand thoughts were running through his mind — most of them selfish. He'd prayed to the Gods every night for years, asking, begging, willing them to save him. To give him a swift death. Anything. And never received an answer back. But Selûne had for you.

But now that he knew you, he could think of no one else who would deserve it. He couldn't bare to think what the world would have been like if you had been taken away so early. Where he would be now if he hadn't met you on the cliffside after that damn ship. “Well, it seems that you truly are walking poetry, darling. Our little moon shining a light on all of us.”

He swore he saw you bottom lip tremble at the name.

"Let me tell the others, when I'm ready?" You asked quietly.

"Of course."

The room fell into silence again, but it was more comfortable then before. Astarion found himself lost in his thoughts — a confusing melody of haunting memories, and wishful thoughts.

“You never answered my question before.”

“Hmm?” Your voice had him blinking back to reality, turning his body to look over at you.

“About… how you see me.” Your eyes were big and vulnerable. They tugged at his heart, at the knot in his stomach that formed with the thought of you.

“Oh," Was all he could get out.

“I—I just,” Your voice was feint and nervous, your eyes studying the features of his face intently.

“Don’t ask now.” He blurted, his fingers clenching into a tight fist on his lap.

“What?”

“Give me time. Please.” He begged gently.

Your eyes softened, before you nodded in silent understanding. “I can do that.”

Relief flooded him, his fingers relaxing and shoulders drooping.

You seemed content on letting it drop, instead grabbing the plate of food next to you and balancing it on your knee. “Where is my roommate for the evening?” You asked, before taking a bite.

“Lae'zel? Oh she deemed the lodgings unacceptable and that she would rather die than join us soft-skinned weaklings in a room. She set up a tent out front in the dirt.”

You finished chewing, before grinning. “That… checks out.”

“So you get a luxurious evening alone. At least one of us does." He feigned a frown, before waving his hands dramatically, "I get to spend the night listening to Gale and Wyll snore.” He rolled his eyes before speaking again. "I will say charming Wyll did volunteer to sleep on the floor so I could have half the bed, bless him.”

“You could stay here if you want. To sleep, I mean.” You offered easily, pushing the food around your plate with the fork as you waited for him to reply.

He blinked again, caught off guard by your proposal. “Oh, that’s not necessary—“

“Astarion, really? You’ll share with Gale, but not with me?” You teased, a single eyebrow arching.

He stared at you for a moment, dumbfounded before nodding, “Alright. Eat your dinner. I’ll get my things.”

• • •

Slinking into his room, Astarion left out a sigh of relief as he realized it was empty. He needed a moment to ground himself and stop his spinning head. He had no idea what today would bring, but this whirlwind of a night was not at all what he had expected. He started grabbing his night clothes he had laid out on the bed in his shared room with Wyll and Gale, stuffing them into his rucksack.

But he bristled as he heard steps approaching, looking over his shoulder to see his two fellow male companions enter the room.

“Ahhh, they you are Astarion. We wondered where you scurried off too.” The wizard spoke, tucking the book he had in his hands into the crook of his arm instead.

“Oh, I found better company than the likes of you.” He shot back sarcastically — earning an eye roll from Gale.

“Did you now?” The warlock asked with eyebrows raised, before bending down to his own pack to untie his bedroll from it.

“Don’t bother with the bed roll tonight, Wyll. You’ll have to keep Gale warm tonight.”

"Where are you off too?" Gale asked, his brows furrowed.

Wyll studied him carefully, before offering a little smirk to the vampire. “Off to sleep under the stars?”

“Amongst them actually.” Astarion replied, keeping his face perfectly neutral. As if to not give anything away.

Wyll gave him a knowing look. “You be a gentleman, yeah?”

“Aren’t I always?” He said with a little bow before grabbing his bag and slinking out of the room.

• • •

Your room was very quiet when he emerged back in it. Your empty dinner plate was sat on the edge of the nightstand, the glass of wine mostly untouched expect for that first single sip. The candles were starting to flicker with their last remaining life, the glow now a deep set orange instead of a bright yellow light.

You had stepped behind the privacy screen as you changed, only the outline of your figure could be seen through the sheer material stretched across the wood. He’d seen your naked body before, as you’d seen his — several times by now, actually. But he respected the privacy — appreciated it actually. There was something quite raw about getting undressed in front of someone like this. Something vulnerable.

Something he wasn’t quite ready for.

Realizing he had been staring at that screen and your outline, he sat his bag down on the dresser and began sorting through his things. He heard the soft pads of your feet across the worn floorboards, before the creak of the bed as you laid in it. He turned around with a fake cough, his own night clothes in his pale hands. “May I?” He jerked his head towards the screen.

You simply nodded, turning on your side away from the screen to face the ajar window instead.

He changed efficiently, tugging on the delicate breezy nightclothes before padding bare feet to place his folded clothes on top of his rucksack. He swallowed thickly as he turned to survey the room, to the large space you left in the double bed — intended for him.

"I don't bite." You muttered with your eyes still closed. Like you could sense him hesitating.

He barked a laugh, before moving to his side. "Cheeky pup." He slid into the bed, savoring the feeling of the soft sheets on his skin, the way the mattress hugged his tired and sore body. He hadn't slept in a real bed in ages, in well — he couldn't remember how long. He thought he had gotten used to the small comfort of his bed roll and tent these past weeks, especially when he compared it to the stone floor of Cazador's dungeon and kennels. But remembering the simple luxury of this room and bed would put his tent to shame once he returned to it. His pale fingertips rubbed the soft fabric covering his body, committing to memory.

You adjusted yourself next to him, moving your pillow in a way that wafted your scent throughout the room. It made his movements stop, frozen as his senses were overwhelmed by you. You smelled sweet and warm — inviting. And it had nothing to do with the scent of your bouquet that usually clouded his mind. Licking his lips, he forced himself to look away from you — instead looking up at the dark ceiling, as the last flickers of the surviving candle in the room began to fade away.

"Good night, Astarion." You mumbled into your pillow, your voice already sounding heavy with sleep.

"Sweet dreams darling." He whispered back.

You had fallen asleep next to each other before, of course — laid out in that forest or on the sands of a beach after wondering off away from the others to have your way with each other.

This... this was different.

He couldn’t will himself to fall into a trance. No matter how hard he tried. Instead he was still staring up at the grays and blacks of the dark ceiling, becoming more and more increasingly aware of your breaths and the thrum of your heartbeat.

Only once he had heard them slow down, only once he knew you were in a deep sleep, did he chance looking over to you.

Your face was peaceful, serene as you slept. He wasn’t sure if it was actual moonlight trickling in, or just the cleric Isobel’s protective aura that had cast the blueish white light into the room. But either way it was resulted in Selûne’s power, and even in your sleep you were basking in it. The freckles that marked your checks and nose were almost glittering in the light. The silvery white of your hair shimmering. Your soft lips slightly parted as you dreamed.

Gods, you were beautiful.

Astarion closed his eyes as he was suddenly reminded of his times stuck in those wretched dungeons in the palace. Not what torture or pain he had to endure there. No. For once, that was buried away.

No, instead he recalled what he stared at to get him through those never ending sessions of abuse and torment.

The night sky through those barred windows.

The stars, somehow still blinking and winking from him through the city smoke and light.

And the moon. That beacon of light in the black sky — constantly changing its shape and colour. But it was always there when he needed it to be. When he needed to look up, to be somewhere else, to think of something else — the moon was always there.

Shining. Listening. Understanding.

His eyes opened again, staring again at your tranquil face, your slumbering form curled into the soft bed and sheets.

You were so much more than he had bargained for. A companion blessed with a drop of an actual god’s power. He should have been thrilled — that his plans for protection and well-deserved justice on Cazador was even easier to achieve than he first thought.

No. Instead he realized he was feeling something else. Something… new.

That even though he had missed the sun, longed for it for two hundred years, delighted in the colours it cast the world in it. That even though he could finally enjoy the sun's beam, and bask in the it's warmth and golden glow. Despite all that, he knew that the sun would never understand him like the moon did.

Oh shit.

He had royally fucked up his plan.

Part II: here

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 fanfic #astarion/reader #astarion/tav

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kimberbohwrites · 2 months

Text

'Ma'am' Chapter Two

Rolan has been pining for an older Tav for some time now. They both think they other hates them and when they realize their error, smut ensues. >Dedicated to @lemonsrosesandlavender and you know why. >Dedicated to @crowwolf and anon for the original prompt that spiraled into 6k words of smut >Dedicated to anyone who identifies as female and has ever felt the struggles of seeing your own beauty and power in a world that wants us to be the opposite. Esp. those of us who might be getting older.

Rated: Explicit, MDNI, Smut Word Count: 2966 Chapter 2/2 Read Chapter One: Tumblr | Ao3 READ ON AO3 (also continued below the line)

Please note: In this I’m writing as Rolan in his 30s and Tav in her 40s with a 10 year age difference.

As the door of his bedroom clicked shut behind him, Rolan immediately found himself flush against the door. You had rushed to claim his mouth once more in an eager kiss. The entire way up from the shop floor he had barely been able to focus, his mind unraveled with lust and need. Soft touches from you had kept him grounded enough to manage his way to the bedroom.

He whimpers as you kiss him, it feels as if it’s been ages since the last one even though he knows only minutes have passed.

“Someone is a little touch-starved, aren’t they?”

Rolan blushes deeply as you whisper the obvious in the darkness.

“I— it’s…”

He sputters trying to answer you. A small part of his brain tells him that he should be embarrassed to already be falling apart so completely under the touch of another. The greater part of him can’t find the will to care at all. Finally, you are touching him, and he can touch you, your beauty and warmth no longer just out of reach.

“It’s okay, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about”

You say as if you can read the scattered thoughts running rampant through his mind.

“I have wanted to touch you for so long Rolan, I promise I’ll make you feel good, okay?”

He nods in response, biting back a whine.

“What do you say?”

He fumbles for a minute and then remembers and with it comes the warmth of arousal pulsing through him once more.

“Yes ma’am”

You reward him immediately with a harder kiss, your tongue sweeping into his mouth. Gods you’re perfect. He’s whimpering into the kiss again when your hands sweep up into his hair, taking it down from his normally neat hairstyle and letting it fall loose on his shoulders. As you comb your fingers through it softly, he kisses down your neck as if to worship every bit of skin he finds.

You moan at the feeling and the sound makes his knees buckle under him again. This time you do notice.

“You poor thing. You should lie down.”

You guide him from the door over to the bed and while standing next to it, give him a few more sweet kisses before pushing him down hard on to it. He lands on his back on the soft sheets. Before he can think, you are on him, straddling his chest and leaning down to kiss him deeply. Rolan can’t help but moan and whimper lightly at the sensation.

“Gods… wanted you… wanted this… so long” he manages to get out between kisses. The words come in deep gasps of air as he wills his body not to give out from sheer ecstasy.

“Me too,” You respond as you sit up and gaze down at him.

You give him a look that seems to be begging a question — is he still enjoying this? Still wanting this?

He nods and whines, bucking his hips up. You’re sitting too high on him for him to find the friction he is seeking, and he lets out a whimper of defeat.

“By all the gods Rolan, look who is being greedy now”

“Please ma’am, please more”

Your smile could light the whole city, he’s sure of it.

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. Are you going to be good for me?”

He nods excitedly.

You smile again.

Then your eyes roam the room looking for something, he’s not sure quite what until your eyes narrow upon spying your quarry.

“Those will do nicely,” you muse to yourself

“Stay right here, like a good boy,”

He squirms a little in anticipation but heeds your order as he watches you climb off him and the bed. You cross the room toward an open closet that is strewn with old things. Upon one the shelves sits a box of old lengths of silk that matched the curtains in the bedrooms. Rolan hadn’t disposed of it yet, the bedroom closet was one of the last things he planned to worry about in the reorganizing of Ramazith Tower. It’s a blessing in disguise as you select a few lengths and turn to him with that foxlike grin.

“Can I use these?”

You say it so sweetly that Rolan almost forgets for a moment that he’s lying painfully hard on his bed, waiting for you. His heart flips flops in his chest at the way your eyes look innocent against the mischievous shape of your mouth. You are strong, brave, bright, and caring — and he is absolutely taken with you.

“Yes, of course.”

Crossing the room back to him, you take command of the situation once more.

“Get up and take off all your clothes,” You order him with that same sweet smile on your face.

“Yes ma’am”

He almost leaps off the bed and into action. Clawing at his own clothing so quickly that it makes you laugh a little despite the situation. Before too long he is naked before you, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths of anticipation. His cock stands proudly at attention, dripping pre-cum in eagerness of what might come next.

“Good boy,” you say, and he doesn’t even bother to fight the way he beams in response. Not that you’d miss the way your words made his cock twitch.

“Can I tie you up? Would that be okay?”

Rolan nearly passes out at the thought. Never had he considered being tied up in such a manner and now at the mere suggestion of it he is almost coming completely untouched. The whimper of need he responds with is quite loud.

“Please, ma’am,”

“Please what? Good boy?”

He shifts and squirms again. The feelings running through him feel stronger than any wine or drink could ever compare to. Is it possible to be drunk on a person? He wonders to himself. Here he is ready to throw his pride away in this moment for you and he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Please… tie me up…Ma’am”

He grits out the words, still trying to save a little face by trying to hold on to that grouchy personality that protects him from the world.

“On the bed”

You order as you approach and help guide him where you want him with a caring touch. Every so often you drop your face down to a different part of his skin and leave hot kisses in your wake. His body feels like it’s on fire from the combination of stimulation.

“Fuck” He hisses out.

His wrist is in your gentle grasp as you begin to tie it carefully to the closest post. You repeat this action three more times with each limb, so patiently and delicately checking to make sure the knots were firm— but also being sure they wouldn’t cause pain. You looked up at his face questioningly between each, making sure he was still okay and felt safe in this moment.

Rolan was grateful for it. While he didn’t know yet how to articulate it, he was fragile in so many ways from mishandling over his life. From parents who dumped him away as a baby to a city that would exile him for no crime other than existing. Hells, even the damage that his predecessor did to him in the short months of his apprenticeship was more than what the average person might suffer in their lives. Some part of you must have known, always known, he mused to himself, that he was fragile.

And yet you waited patiently for him anyway. He thought.

Rolan hadn’t been in love before and he wasn’t even sure if you even could fall in love with someone as they tied you to a bedpost, but if it was, he was certain that this was the case. He loved you. Now wasn’t the time to tell you, but he would and soon. He’d take you for dinner and by candlelight he’d tell you that he loved you and never wanted to be without you.

But for right now he was just a man tied to his own bed. There was a certain freedom in it he found himself thinking, as strange as it may seem. As soon as you took control, he felt a weight lift from him, the panic about the Tower, the worry over his siblings, the fears of inadequacy that have always haunted them — it’s like you could mute them simply by taking charge. There was a blissful peace in it.

He felt your fingertips ghost up his leg and snapped out of his thoughts, you’d finished securing him and were tracing his infernal ridges as you worked your way back up to him. Finally, you came to sit down on the bed next to him. It was only then that he realized he was nude you were still fully clothed. You looked at him with an almost devilish quality in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He whimpers as his mind reels, trying to parse out what it is he wants. He knows he need only ask.

“T-touch me, please ma’am, touch me”

“Of course, because you asked so sweetly”

You run your hands over his torso, and he immediately groans at the feeling. Your skin is softer than anything he’s ever felt. Brushing your fingers across his nipples gently earns you a hiss that causes him to shift slightly, already seeking relief. His cock is throbbing, impossibly hard from this and he’s certain that he is making a mess of the bedding from the steady stream of pre-cum leaking from it.

“You feel so good Rolan, you’re so warm, I love it”

As you finish your statement one of your hands grazes near his cock ever so slightly and he lets out a loud whine. He finally pulls against his restraints for the first time. The featherlight touches have him close to the precipice before you’ve barely begun, and he is nervous about how long he can last like this.

“You’re so sensitive too, so reactive, it’s perfect”

Your touches continue to his thighs, his abs, finally brushing against his cock once more. Tears well in his eyes and threaten to spill. He can’t form words under these conditions; your praise and your touch have undone him. Then he feels you get off the bed and turns to find you standing once more.

“Noooo” He whines.

“Shhhhh, patience needy one… and you forgot something.”

He gathers his thoughts for a moment.

“Sorry ma’am”

“That’s better, now be patient”

The words are an order, not harshly barked but with enough authority behind them to know that you mean business. He bites his bottom lip to calm himself, careful not to draw blood with his sharp teeth.

You smile down at him as your hands come down to the hem of your tunic to pull it over your head slowly. His chest is pounding in anticipation as you slowly remove each piece of clothing all just out of reach of him. It is both torture and reward, for as you reveal each new bit of skin. He is both thrilled and being driven nearer to madness by the thought of your bare skin against him. After what feels like an eternity you are nude before him and climbing back on to the bed.

Your hand brushes up his cock again. It lurches under your touch, and he groans and tries to position his hips to get more friction.

“This is big, Rolan.”

He can’t help but grin as you grasp him and begin to stroke him. He’s never known where he stood as far as being well-endowed went, but he’ll take your word for it.

“I think you need to make sure I can handle this, want to help?”

He nods eagerly in response, and you smile at him. On your hands and knees, you crawl up the bed to him.

“I think I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours, is that okay?”

“Fuck,” he hisses out almost coming at the thought, “Yes, please, ma’am”

His words come out as individual pants as he writhes against his bonds once more.

Leaning down, you give him another kiss, deep and full of affection. Your tongue brushes against him and you moan a little into his mouth. He smiles into the kiss remembering that you want this just as much as he does. Then you are pulling away to straddle his face and lower yourself gently. His tail comes up to wrap around your ankle as you do so, holding you tight.

“If you need me to move or to stop for any reason, just let go of me with your tail, okay?”

He nods to you, and you lower your dripping cunt down on to his face. He strains against the bonds to raise his head, eagerly licking at every fold. This isn’t something he has a lot of experience in, but he’s been told he’s a quick study and he’s nothing if not enthusiastic. Trying to catalogue every touch you like best, he flattens his tongue against you as he tries to cover more area.

The result is almost immediate as you begin to shake and shudder. He can feel your thighs start to quiver and knows he’s on the right track. Before long he is taking your clit in his mouth, sucking gently and alternating with his tongue. Your moans grow louder, and he can hear you saying his name. His cock drips in excitement, trying to rein himself in to not finish just from the taste of you.

After a few minutes you’re close and he can tell, all he needs to do is push you over the edge. Without the use of his hands, he is struggling to come up with exactly how when it hits him. With a deep breath he presses his nose to your clit as his tongue darts in and out of your hole. He grinds his face slightly against you, being sure to keep a firm pressure. The extra friction is just the thing and with almost a wail, your climax overtakes you. You drench his face with the sweet taste of you while you writhe and shiver as he continues to lick you through it.

“Good boy,” You moan sensuously as you clear the fog of your orgasm.

Lifting from him and repositioning yourself once more, you lean down to kiss his drenched face. Sharing the taste between you which makes you both moan into the kiss. He is pulling against his bonds now. He needs to have you, or he is certain he’ll die. You notice with a coy smile, having wound him up just as you had planned.

“I didn’t forget about you of course” you murmur as you shift down to straddle his desperate cock.

He nods eagerly, so close to the edge already that he is nearly delirious for the release of oblivion under you. Still, he steels himself as he feels your warm heat envelop him, wanting this to last just a little longer if possible. The sound that leaves you as you fully seat yourself on him makes it nearly impossible to hold on. Your head is thrown back, neck exposed, your mouth opens, and you let out the most seductive moan he’s sure he’s ever heard.

His tail comes up to wrap around your waist as you adjust to the size of him.

“Fuck, Rolan, you feel amazing,”

He can’t respond, he’s huffing and fighting to hold on to control — to not cum on the spot. Fighting to not grind his hips up into you to get more of that feeling. It must be truly obvious how close he is, or you must be a mind reader because your next words are just what he needs.

“It’s okay Rolan, you don’t have to hold on, I want you to enjoy this”

He groans again as you begin to bounce yourself on him, his tail seeking to aid your motion. He’s puffing and panting, gods you feel so good,

“Thank… you… ma’am” he pants out to the pace of you riding him.

“My good boy”

With those three words it’s over. He lets out a loud grunt, almost a yell as his eyes roll back. His body lurches against the bonds as his cock pulses within you, filling you with his hot spend. His mind is a blank, all thought having been driven from out at the moment of climax. There is only the feeling.

Without a doubt, this is the hardest he’s ever come before. His head rests back against the bed and his mouth drops open as he continues to jerk up into you slightly with each spurt as he comes down. The first sensation he notes outside of pleasure again is the sound of your calm voice.

“That’s it, that was so good, you’re so good Rolan.”

You’re heaping praise on him, and he allows the combination of everything to sweep him away once more. When he comes to again it’s only minutes later, but he’s been untied and you’re gently cleaning him with a warm towel. You climb into bed with him and check his wrists and ankles, massaging them to soothe any discomfort. After a few minutes he pulls you close to him, and you lean out of his reach to grab a blanket to cover you both. Then you settle back, facing him as he puts his arms around your back, happy to have you in his arms.

The last thing he feels before he slips off to the best sleep he’s had in years, is the feeling of you leaving a kiss on his forehead — just between his horns.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.

#holy rolan empire #rolan nation #bg3 rolan #rolan brainrot #rolan bg3 #rolanites #rolan x tav #rolan fanfic #rolan smut #rolan empire #rolan x reader #rolan #rolan simp nation #bg3 fanfiction

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csphire · 8 months

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18, 19, + 20 for tav ask! 💖

30 Questions for your Tav

Anna - Half-Elf, Artisan, Warlock (Arch Fey) & Light Cleric for Tymora

18. What is your Tav’s greatest fear?

Betrayal. Specifically, falling in love with someone who becomes as controlling and abusive as her first lover or something even worse. Ascendant Astarion would be Anna’s absolute worst nightmare.

If Astarion had decided to go through with the ritual she would have broken it off with him the moment it was over. Seven thousand lives, that much blood on his hands, would instantly sicken her alone. She would, however, stomach her repulsion and pragmatically keep him as a distant ally until the elder brain was destroyed.

Even if an ascendant Astarion were to ever bother to try and coax her back, she would refuse him coldly. She has zero desire to become a spawn or anyone’s possession again no matter how gilded the cage might be. She’d sooner die but not without trying to take that person down with her in the process. So long as Astarion keeps his distance and behaves himself she would plot on how to cure him if possible. But she would have little qualms over the idea of putting him down like a rabid dog if he started killing innocents.

19. What is your Tav’s greatest desire?

To have a peaceful life honing her craft and art along with having a large family. A mix of biological kids and adopted ones. If Astarion doesn’t want that she will find a partner that would and that partner would be Dammon.

I do see Anna and Astarion loving one another deeply but can also see their relationship becoming strained after things settled down. I’m not sure settling down is in his nature, to be honest. If they split up it would be amicable or… an understanding could develop between the three. He’s free to possibly explore something with say Sebastian while Anna and Dammon are more his homebodied spouses raising kids and enjoying their trades. In the end, Anna yearns to watch her family grow and have someone with whom she can grow old with too at her side.

20. What is your Tav’s greatest regret?

Believing-clinging to the idea that there should only be a “one and only.” She blames that toxic ideal of how one should save oneself and only have one lover as to why she put up with her abuser for so long. She regrets not giving up on such a hopeless cause and freeing herself of him sooner. Of being scared of being single and alone. But at least now she’s not afraid to be alone anymore. She will also not tolerate being mistreated ever again.

Thank you so much for the asks! <3

#30 Questions for your Tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #Anna x Astarion #Anna x Dammon #Anna x Astarion x Dammon #greatest desire #greatest regret #greatest fear

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oscararcane · 4 months

Text

Amis as a companion

5. Describe their idle animations!

In camp you’ll find Amis kneeling down, playing their lyre (I’m sorry Larian, but after going down a rabbit hole, I’m pretty sure it’s a lyre, not a harp), their go-to song being The Power, reading standing up (like the other companions who read, let’s be realistic, they wouldn’t get their own animation lol), sitting down cross-legged to write with a quill in a blank book resting on their lap, a bottle of ink on the floor beside them in which they dip their quill now and again, or brushing their hair, one side at the time, sitting in the same position.

While travelling, you can spot them brushing down their clothes with slow, careful movements, pushing their hair behind their ears (or looking like they are, obviously they can’t really lol), or moving their fingers in the air as if practicing or memorizing a song for their lyre.

#baldur's gate 3 #30 questions for your tav #bg3 tav #oc: Amis

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beepersteeper · 6 months

Text

I Will Always Find You -- Astarion x Tav -- Comparing Notes | part 3

Astarion and F!Tav live happily together for the remaining years she has, she refuses to be turned into a vampire because her faith says that her soul isn’t finished with its work yet. Tav dies of old age and leaves Astarion to put together the pieces of his broken heart. AN: Lord of Light lore taken and changed to fit the story's means. Not canonically accurate. TLDR story line stuff. This is an AU where Astarion ascends but isn't a power hungry bastard and Tav is able to help him continue healing. Wyll is immortal and the Duke. Karlach in my mind, if given a new engine would be able to live a lot longer than the usual tiefling. Another AN: idk if anyone wants tagged in this WIP but let me know.

She looked at his face, like she was Looking through him. “Interesting.” They sit together quietly for a moment. “If you want to see the others I have, you're more than welcome to come in. It's the least I owe you for this.” She pushes her hair behind her ear and tries to hide her smile, gesturing with the beacon.

Astarion thinks on the offer for a long beat. “I'd love to.” He smiles.

“Come on then." She smiles, more confidence radiating from her smile. She stands and reaches out her free hand for him to take. He takes her hand standing and collects his books into his pack. He touches Tav's headstone as he walks away following Ta’vira into the side door of the book store.

The old man from the other night raises an eye as the duo walk past him into a curtained off room behind the merchants counter. “You be good back there daughter." not overbearing but concerned nonetheless.

“Daddy I am a 30 year old woman." She snarks back playfully through the curtain.

“A 30 year old baby. My baby. Keep your hands to yourself son." The man responds.

Astarion clears his throat, caught off guard “Will do sir." He smiles an uncomfortable smile at Ta'vira.

She sets Tav's beacon on the table, waves her hand to gesture to ignore her father and gathers her other three from the bookshelf lining the back of the room. All slightly different shapes but clearly all related. She hands one to him “See what this one does.” He sighs and rolls his eyes as he asks the same question that he's said several times in the past day. He sees nothing but total darkness, until he feels a cold breeze cross his skin. He shares what he saw with Ta’vira. She purses her lips and hums in response, handing him another one and opening a well used notebook to scrawl something on a blank page. With the second one he feels a hum that is shaking like an earthquake with flashes of light zipping past his sight. He describes what he witnessed to her. She sits in thought for a moment before she stands to get a book after handing him her last one. He feels the knot in his chest tighten. He smells and tastes Tav's blood like it was the first day he fed from her at camp. He snaps himself out of the vision and tries to carefully set the beacon down. Cold sweat beading on his forehead.

“I can't explain that one to you." He blushes absentmindedly, licking his lips.

"It's got something to do with blood.” She ponders "I thought for sure a vampire would be more attuned to it.” she adds plainly.

He scoffs, taken aback, caught completely off guard and unaware how he should respond.

"Oh come off it Astarion.” She laughs and leans her forearms on the table “it's not like it's a huge secret. Or was I not supposed to see those pointed teeth in your smile?”

He casts his eyes away for a moment before returning to her face “You got me.” He chuckles, flashing her a genuine smile. He takes a breath and explains what he saw and felt “it was all Tav. It was almost like she was here, with me.” he smiles quietly to himself. “Are you really not worried about being alone with a vampire?" he asks, shocked. Not so used to a warm welcome from new people.

She is fingering through her book tracing passages with her finger. She scoffs playfully "If you were a danger to me you could have already had me by the neck several times since we met.” She turns her attention to her notebook writing quickly like her thoughts will cease to exist if she doesn't write them down right now.

He shakes his head thoroughly surprised by the nonchalant response.

“It says here that these may be more reactive when there are more people around that are connected through time or have similar histories.” Her emerald eyes stare into his as if she's looking for any inkling of a connection, the edges of her eyes crinkle as she studies him.

He softened his eyes, letting her look for whatever she needed. "Do you think we…" he asked, feeling so small.

“I guess there's no harm in trying…” she leans toward him holding Tav's beacon holding it out for him to place his hand on, their fingers brush each other's hand. He feels tingles travel up his arm and he shivers away the feeling. She reaches out her free hand for him to take.

“Your father told me to keep my hands to myself." He jokes holding his free hand over hers.

She sighs, exasperated and grabs his hand “He’ll be fine.”

Another jolt of tingles ran up his arm forcing him to smile. They both ask "What are you?”

The vision is shared, the warm light burning hotter than before, but the full figures of two people holding hands and walking toward the light. There were no details in the shapes, but they both felt like they knew the people. Like they could be the people. The figures walk to the light and walk through it. Disappearing from view.

“Woah.” Ta’vira says, setting the beacon down. “That was the most vivid I've ever seen. Ever heard of. What…” she trails off, not trying to let go of his hand.

They just look at each other. Unsure if the other saw the same thing. While holding each other's hand Astarion instinctively ran his thumb over her knuckles sensing her tension. Ta’vira relaxes and smiles as she places her now free hand on the table. “Would you tell me about her?" She asks and leans her head to the side slightly.

He smiles to himself thinking about how he could even begin to describe her to anyone. “Words just can't describe her." He chuckles “but I can try. If I do, will you finally tell me what I get to call you?" He flirts freely, admittedly a little rusty. She nods, the tips of her ears flushing. Something that Astarion certainly notices. "and promise to protect my honor if your father sees my hands, decidedly not to myself.” he raises their clasped hand slightly off the table. She rolls her eyes at him, clearly not amused.

He rambles as he describes Tav. "She was undoubtedly the best person I’ve ever met. We met in the most bizarre way, we shouldn't have met, really. But we did and I couldn't get her out of my mind from that moment. Someone so kind, and peaceful. We were in a situation that no one could have imagined, and I was scared. I hadn't been on my own for 200 years. So I thought if I had tricked her into loving me she’d protect me. She didn't fall for it, and showed me that I was worth the hard work it would take to be with me without having to wear a mask around her. She would bend over backwards or give the shirt off her back for anyone that she cared about. She didn't want to resort to violence unless it was the only option. That was something that took me years to get used to.” he pauses to chuckle.

"But” he continues “she would never let her own feelings influence those around her instead she would help you find your own peace. She helped me become the man I am today. Wyll Ravengard too. And like 5 other people who we traveled with. She didn't care for many material things, but the few things she did she would treasure those little doodads like they were Rubies. I have this little rock that is always in my pocket because she picked it out of the river on a whim and told me to “keep it forever" and that crazy woman would ask me to see it every. single. week. for the rest of her life” he laughs, pulling a plain gray pebble from the inner pocket of his jacket and putting it on the table.

"She would dance to the music in her mind whenever the mood struck her and could light up a room with her smile. There was nowhere she could go and not” he holds up one finger “either know at least one person or” he holds up a second finger “leave with new friends. And somehow she would remember each and every one of their faces and stories. Tav was the most beautiful and funny person I have ever met. Even in her dying days she was smiling and excited. She was comforting me. She said she knew that she wasn't done here. She made me promise to look for and find her again. I can still hear the melody of her voice in my mind.” He sighs a large in-love smile plastered across his face. “I'm sorry if that was too much.”

Ta’vira looks at him, a sweet smile on her face, just enjoying feeling his love for Tav filling the room. "Don't you dare apologize for that. She’s one lucky woman to have found you. I just can't help but wonder why you didn't…” she trails off implying turning her into a vampire like him pointing to her own canine tooth.

"I’m the lucky one.” he sighs “She wouldn't let me,” he shrugs, putting his Forever rock back into his pocket. “Said she needed to start again. That she wasn't done yet. Trust me I tried to convince her, but her freewill was what made her HER and I would have never dreamed of taking that from her.”

Ta’vira nods agreeing that that was the right decision. “How did she know what else she had to do?"

“She didn't" he laughs “just felt that in her soul that she wasn't done. I think she just wanted to find the answer to these bloody things." He gestures their hands to a beacons. “She was never one to leave something undone." He rolls his eyes and realizes that they're still holding hands. “How do people of your faith know that they'll return? Know that there is an answer?"

“Just blind faith I guess." Ta’vira shrugs readjusting her hand in his “like my own experience is that I can remember things from times long before I was in my current cycle. I feel like I've been everything. I've been ungodly rich, dirt floor poor, I've lived lives of crime and of pride. I've been the hero and the villain. But the Lord of Light is a constant. They are my safety. If Tav had anything similar to my experience she just wanted to be able to answer the Lord's question to finally stay in one life, and feel fulfilled and happy to move onto whatever comes next for me.”

“So if you were able to answer their question you would just…”

"Find what makes me happy and do that for as long as I can.” She giggles “I'm sure Tav wanted to answer the Lord's question to be able to happily stay with you until the sun blinked out.” She paused and continued hurriedly “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to speak for her.”

"No no, you're not saying anything she wouldn't. Anything she hadn't." He laughs “Would you believe me if I told you that that's verbatim what she said before she passed.”

Ta’vira blinked at him, cocking her brows at him "curious isn't it?”

"Uncanny.” He responds, moving his hands to brush his hair back from his face. Their conversation was punctuated by her father speaking from behind the curtain.

"Vira, do you and your new friend mind watching the counter while I fetch some lunch?”

“Sure daddy." She responds standing from her seat. “You don't have to stay. I'm sure someone in your position has plenty more important things than hanging out with a bookstore clerk."

"I don't have anything else to do.” He stands before he fully processed what she has said "What do you mean my position?” he scoffs.

She opens the curtains for them to pass through “Please, your plain clothes don't fool me. You're the only talk of the town. Lord Ancunín is back after a THIRTY year sabbatical.”

"Yet you seem unimpressed.” He coons, following her to the counter.

"It'll take a lot more than your reputation to impress me.” She jokes leaning her forearms on the counter opening a book to read.

He picks the book from her hands and sets it on the counter stepping closer to her to ask "What would it take to impress you?”

"I'm not sure.” She pushes him back playfully with one hand on his arm and picks up her book again, opening it to read “You're a smart man, I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

He chuckles and leans his hips back into the counter folding his sleeves up smiling to himself “Cheeky." He tuts crossing his arms.

The two talk some, and stand in comfortable silence for a while. A few customers come in to look, a few buy books and a few are shocked seeing lord Ancunín behind the counter of the little shop. Eventually Ta’vira’s father came back to the building with a look of approval on his face seeing Astarion organizing stacks of books on a new shelf.

“Putting your new friend to work already? I've gotta say, that's impressive son." He says setting the box of food on the counter.

Astarion smirks and cocks an eyebrow to Ta’vira and mouths impressive. She rolls her eyes hard and reaches into the box pulling out two wrapped sandwiches and begrudgingly hands one to him.

“Thanks daddy."she kisses him on the cheek.

He nods and asks his daughter, but looking at his guest “Does your new friend have a name?"

“Astarion, sir." he answers

“Little Star, from the old language." He muses as if recalling the whole old language and placing it in a timeline “How'd you meet my daughter, Astarion?"

“In the cemetery, our paths just crossed when she interrupted my conversations with my loved ones” he earns a jab in the ribs causing him and her father to chuckle “But really, just happened upon each other's company in the cemetery."

“A quick wit, maybe you'll finally have some competition Vira.” Her father laughs into his sandwich “What were you two doing back there anyway? Nothing unspeakable I hope.”

She groans into her hand aggressively, turning the page of her book. “We were studying the beacons. He had one so we wanted to compare notes.”

Her father's breath catches for a moment "Is that so… did you figure anything out?”

"Nothing really” she shrugs, Astarion hears the tinge of a lie in her tone. “Just more of the same stuff, but he did have similar visions to mine."

“That is uncommon.” He hums “If you plan on coming around more often I might have to put you on the payroll Son, you are doing a wonderful job holding those books. But we do have shelves for that though.” He jokes pointing out that Astarion has stood in the same place with the same books, staring at his daughter.

This is my first time doing a taglist, I hope it works.

Taglist:

@zoeloveslotr @silverfangmarks @prudent-nerd

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion fluff #astarion fa #bg3 fanart #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #astarion long fic #soft ascended astarion #soft astarion #astarion x mc #astarion romance

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eeldritchblast · 10 months

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30 Questions for your Tav

These questions can be used as an Ask Game or just answering them all for fun character development!

(Dark Urge edition here)

What was your Tav’s place of birth and raising like?

What relationship did your Tav have with their family/guardian(s) growing up? Has that changed with age?

Did your Tav receive any formal or informal education? If yes, how well did they learn? If no, why not?

What hobbies does your Tav have? How did they acquire these interests?

Did your Tav have any formal or informal employment? If yes, what was their job? If no, how did they make ends meet? How did they feel about it?

What is your Tav’s favourite childhood memory?

What circumstances led to your Tav becoming their Class/Subclass?

Did your Tav have any romantic and/or sexual relationships prior to their illithid adventure? If yes, who was it with and what was it like? If no, how did they feel about being single?

What was your Tav doing when they were taken by the mind flayers?

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest skill? Is this accurate?

What would your Tav consider to be their greatest flaw? Is this accurate?

What opinion does your Tav have about the Gods?

How does your Tav feel about the wilderness?

How does your Tav feel about the city?

What motivates your Tav to either embrace or resist the tadpole?

How does your Tav feel about killing?

How good of a liar is your Tav? How do they feel about lying?

What is your Tav’s greatest fear?

What is your Tav’s greatest desire?

What is your Tav’s greatest regret?

How does your Tav feel about love?

Has your Tav become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?

What are 2-3 songs that your Tav would relate to?

What first impression does your Tav give off to strangers?

How does your Tav feel about what others think of them?

Does your Tav have a treasured item with them? If yes, what is it and why is it special? If no, how do they feel about item sentimentality in general?

How does your Tav feel about giving and receiving orders?

How well does your Tav function under pressure?

What advice would you give to your Tav?

What are your Tav’s intentions/goals after the end of the game?

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 oc #bg3 tav #oc questions #ask game

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rielzero · 1 day

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Original by for-tymora's blog, altering this slightly and removing some bits to prevent overly spoiling my oc.

30 Questions for Your Tav! [ Ask Meme ]

Your Tav as a Companion

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)?

Negative (<0):

He stares just at you, Clicking his tongue in an annoyed tone.

"Got nobody else?"

"I would prefer if you'd find a better source of entertainment."

Neutral (0 - 19):

"Seems like you've got something to say."

He stares at you, just raising a brow and cocking his head sideways.

“This better be important.”

Medium and up (20+):

"Hmm? Sorry, you caught me off guard."

"Feeling chatty? I don't mind."

"I'm all ears." Gestures to his ears.

When spoken to by someone other than the player character:

"I'd prefer to be in touch with someone better suited for important conversations. No small talk."

Flirting:

Pretends he wasn't intensely eyeballing your back earlier, winks.

"Something wrong, love?"

"Hey, caught you staring.''

"I was hoping you'd talk to me."

"You're looking dreamy today."

"Hello, love."

"..Hmm? Hmm.." He seems happy.

"I was wondering when you'd need me again."

Partnered:

"Hello, partner in crime." Mischief on his face.

"Say what you need, I'm here to listen."

Act 3 Vampire - Partnered:

"You look hungry, or maybe I'm... Heh."

"Ask me anything, anything, anything.."

"I'd kill if it'd make you happy."

"My love, we are so close to victory, I can almost touch it." (To Astarion Origin)

''You're looking splendid and magical today.'' (To Gale Origin)

"Yes, my sun?" (To Astarion Origin)

''Yes, my love?''

Broken up:

He Just looks at you emptily, and disappointed. Dead eyed.

2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside?

It's the most put-together you've even seen. Stitched to the brim, looks like it can collapse and barely covers the bedroll. Has a bunch of bags surrounding it and crates to support the rest, kind of like a pillow-fort situation.

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

I personally haven't decided on this yet. Rat-themed perhaps, or something to do with him looking sickly.

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have?

Probably depends on the Origin character, I can't picture him being romanced by anyone other than Gale or Astarion at this time. There would be romance and bonding scenes.

5. Describe their idle animations!

Cracking neck, cracking bones, stretching uncomfortably.

Pondering, tapping his foot on the ground with arms folded.

Wiping his face and looking at his hand for a moment before wiping it off his pants.

Tightening his arm wraps (would look like he's rubbing his lower arms.)

Casting Shocking Grasp, just to look at the sparks in his hands, then waves it off.

Pulling out his journal and browsing through it or jotting something down.

Sitting down and drawing (Stops upon approach.)

Act 3 idle Animations would be conditional adittions.

Poking his teeth, then stare at his finger..

Observe his wrist scars, turning it around and stroking it.

Scratch his neck scars, stretch.

Looks like he's smelling something, clearly bothered by it.

Pull out a bottle of blood and sip from it excessively.

Sitting down and drawing (doesn't stop when approached.)

6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction?

I've done a post on this before I think, but it would be in the location near the intellect devourers, hunched over and trying to keep himself from hurling.

8. After Act 3, What are they talking about at the reunion party?

Probably about the change of appearance and hairstyle, and how he's doing better than he was after the defeat of the netherbrain. He's still settling down and getting used to things, 6 months wasn't enough.

Back to Basics

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Locke misspells his name, because he came up with it when he was sixteen. In his mind, Loki is written Locke at first because it sounds like ''Lock-i'' to him, he was the lockpicker in a gang of orphans.

10. Does your Tav have a last name? Is there a meaning behind it?

He comes up with it on the spot, it means ''Trick'' and its very much meant to be a trick.

12. Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

Locke's facial tattoo is magic ink, its a protective ward of sorts. Won't elaborate. His scars are all from abuse, different people.

13. What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors?

Has a strong attachment to purple because of his dead childhood friend, who was a purple tiefling.

14. Where are they from? What was home like?

Baldurian sewers. Not much of a home, more like a nightmare.

15. Is your Tav more likely to fight/flight/freeze/fawn?

He fights in most cases.

17. Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends?

He has acquaintances, his closest being a fatherly figure, The Undertaker, Jermaine.

Deep Dives

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Very much touch-starved, but dislikes casual friendly touch because he's afraid of affection at first.

21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today!

He has CPTSD, it wouldn't be a singularity, though I'd say the moment he became a warlock is pretty big.

22. How is your Tav’s relationship with their family? Their parents?

The woman who raised him thoroughly abused him, so did the other orphans he was raised with. As adults, their relationship is strained and reduced to just being familiar with one another. He doesn't view them as family. He simply can't.

24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw?

He desires to have something of his own, but fails to give it a place. He feels like everything that he does have will never be completely his own, at times. (I'm being vague on purpose.)

25. What is something they would die on a hill over?

Wizards being prone to explosiveness. He will not accept the reality that some wizards never blow themselves up in any capacity. They're all one wrong step away from exploding themselves.

27. What is the worst thing they think they’ve ever done/said to someone they loved?

Say no to his ex-boyfriend.

28. Describe a smell that reminds your Tav of childhood.

..Cooked Dwarf roast.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Sleeping in the dark.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

Power, or to feel like he's worth something.

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leofrith · 7 months

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hii so i‘m way to invested in everyone‘s baldurs gate plays. can we see your tavs? I would love to see them haha😭

YESSSSSS i will happily take any excuse to talk about my tavs. 🥰 i'm sorry this took so long. i wanted to have their Lore™ a little more set in stone before answering this, but then i proceeded to make uhhhh 2 more tavs and a durge. 🤡

i am listing my characters in the order i created them. they're all good/neutral aligned because being mean in video games makes me break out in hives. aaaaand this is going under a read more because it got really fucking long. 🥴

marqwyn stoneheart

race: human

background: soldier

romance: gale

my first tav who i adore. ❤️ i stole her name from the very first character i created for a now abandoned dnd campaign (though she's nothing like og marqwyn). she's a former flaming fist who left their service due to the corruption she witnessed there. after leaving the city she became an independent soldier for hire—but she's a terrible mercenary because she's a bleeding heart who will help people because they need it, regardless of whether they can pay her or not.

she has dragged the party into many an unnecessary brawl because her charisma is literally in the negatives. we love a girl incapable of talking herself out of Situations. she also used to have two brown eyes before deciding to get herself volo'd during a brief moment of desperation-fuelled insanity.

her backstory has changed a lot since i first made her, mostly because i didn't really have anything in mind when i started playing. 😬 i also had no fucking clue what i was doing when i first started and it certainly shows (tons of missed content, didn't take enough long rests, completely missed lae'zel for the first ~30 hours of gameplay, have done quests in an extremely questionable order, etc.).

i romanced gale with her because the wizard had me by the jugular the second he opened his mouth, and buff wife who hits things with her big sword and her squishy wizard husband who casts counterspell is something that can be so personal. that being said, i do want to rework her character and do another playthrough with her, probably romancing wyll, because her playthrough is a mess.

i will now dip into the alternate canon that lives in my brain in which my next three tavs are allowed to coexist, so just stay with me here and trust in the vision ajgjsdgf

meadow moonwillow

race: mephistopheles tiefling

background: entertainer

romance: karlach (or enya in the canon that exists in my head)

i made her specifically for my karlach romance run, because best girl deserves a little sunshine to match her own. meadow was born to play gigs in dive bars, but was cursed with a natural talent for magic. 😔 she'll use it because it's useful in a fight, i guess, but she'd much rather insult people to death. if there is shit to be disturbed, she will disturb it.

her and gale are best friends, because i think having some friendly spell caster competition with his bestie who (begrudgingly) lets him teach her wizard spells would be good for his mental health. her and wyll butt heads a bit at first, mostly because meadow's way of trying to comfort people is through humor, and her attempts to make him feel better about his new devil form come off as insensitive (inspired by the way i accidentally insulted wyll at the tiefling party in my meadow playthrough by joking that i was jealous of his horns. king i swear it was meant as a compliment!! 😭). eventually they become really close, which is certainly a necessity when you're both going on a vacation to hell with no set end date.

also my choice of name for her definitely has nothing to do with the fact that i am in the middle of watching the sopranos. definitely not.

landric sparrowsong, "the wrath-bringer"

race: human

background: sage

romance: gale

his backstory is probably the one i've thought about in the most detail, mostly because he's a walking tragedy and i live for that shit. 🧍🏻‍♀️

he was once a school teacher and wasn't much of a fighter at all before his little village near baldur's gate was razed to the ground and his wife and (or so he thinks 👀) daughter were killed, at which point he took up his oath of vengeance. his favourite pastimes now include self-sacrifice and violently murdering evildoers, hence the "wrath-bringer" epithet.

he has been alone—mostly by choice, because he can't lose any more loved ones if there is no one left alive that he loves—for over a decade by the time he's infected, but the forced proximity means the companions very quickly get under his skin. he's very protective of meadow especially (when they're both in the party at the same time in the universe that exists in my head) because she reminds him of his daughter.

he is god's favourite sacrificial lamb, and is consistently the first to go down in a fight (inspired by me, constantly getting him killed by taking far too long to figure out how to play a support class). naturally i paired him with gale because i think the idea of a guy finally opening his heart to the love of another after over a decade of self-imposed solitude out of fear of being hurt again, only for gale to decide to take on a suicide mission just as they're finally realizing their feelings for one another, is soooooo good and tragic. ☺️

he has a soft spot for children, but being around them makes him sad and withdrawn (for obvious reasons), something that the companions notice pretty quickly once they get to the grove and see his cold exterior totally melt around the kids there. he carries a journal which he adds to often, either little blurbs or sketches of people he meets in his travels, ever observing from afar as an outsider.

he was actually a war cleric of mystra when i first multiclassed him because the idea of this man finding solace in his goddes during the worst years of his life only for that same goddess to tell the first person he's truly loved in years that he needs to kill himself is sooooo. anyway. but i decided to change it because war domain just wasn't doing it for me and also have you seen ilmater's whole deal?

also if he bears a close resemblance to my favourite unromanceable assassin's creed npc, that's just a coincidence (lying).

enya sparrowsong

race: human

background: urchin

romance: lae'zel (or meadow in the canon that exists in my head)

enya is landric's very alive daughter. i made her in the character creator with no intention of actually doing a playthrough as her, which is a lie i tell myself every time i open the character creator. 😔

ideally she would not even be filling the role of tav at all, but that's obviously not an option for an actual playthrough. she spent her childhood hunting and gathering in the wilds and later pickpocketing her way through the darkened alleys of baldur's gate to survive. in the version of her backstory that lives in my head, she eventually caught the attention of jaheira (by trying to rob her), who then took enya under her wing. the harpers became a family to her, and she is with them in the shadow lands when we meet them at last light in act two. also depending on my mood on any given day, enya and meadow are either bitter exes or couple of the year.

she is generally very abrasive with most people she doesn't know well (her and lae'zel are very perfect for each other), but has a soft spot for animals and orphans. she likes her solitude and it takes a lot of effort to earn her trust (there's a reason she's survived alone as long as she has) but once you do, she's ride-or-die.

she has a raven companion and her preferred wild shape is a wolf, but i've also had a lot of fun using her wolf wild shape and a wolf companion for twice the mauling in combat (and twice the torment for shadowheart—thank you sam for pointing out that she would fucking hate this 😭). i also like to think that she's been helping shadowheart get over her fear of wolves.

her relationship with her dad is deliciously complicated!!! but that's for another post.

idunn

race: high elf

background: haunted one

romance: astarion

i haven't played as her much yet, and she's my first durge so i don't really know a ton about that whole background. but her brain is currently scrambled egg and she doesn't remember her past so i figure it's fine if i don't know anything about it either.🧍🏻‍♀️

she's trying so very hard not to kill people, and making up for the lack of murder by being incredibly rude to everyone she meets [astarion approves]. i named her idunn because i like the name but also in large part because i think associating the dark urge with the norse goddess of rejuvenation and vitality is really funny.

aelius lucilius

race: drow half-elf

background: acolyte

romance: shadowheart

he's my newest tav and the one i've played the least, so i'm still working out his backstory. i honestly just really wanted to romance shadowheart as a selunite, which is working out great so far because the shar is already out of the bag and now she loudly and openly hates his fucking guts. 🤪

#all their backstories keep evolving as i play but but this is sort of where they're at right now #if i keep picking away at it like i have been i'll never actually post it so here #thank you so much for asking i am having far too much fun creating my little guys 🥰#alkibiadessuperfan #answer #ky posts text #kyra plays bg3 #my tav #bg3 ocs #my ocs #oc marqwyn #oc meadow #oc landric #oc enya #oc idunn #oc aelius

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