#BG3 Musing

[ride-a-dromedary]

Wyll reciting fairy tales he knows by heart to the children in Reithwin, and making up new endings each time they revisit to see if they catch him and were paying attention.

Wyll entertaining the tiefling kiddos with big, showy tales of castles and monsters and dragons and knights, all with nameless heros so the children can put themselves in the adventure.

Wyll having whole stanzas of poetry memorized that he can recite at any time, and often does under breath as he walks or swings his rapier in rhythm to keep time (he doesn't count his waltz, he *speaks* it)

Wyll dropping his favourite quotes from plays in casual conversation (and making some up completely on the spot, but they're so dead on you wouldn't be able to tell).

Wyll who could have been a poet, a playwright, a storyteller. Who *is* all of these things, even if it's not at the forefront of his being.

[alibonbonn]

A @corviiids tweet that is very important to me 🙏 I'm always thinking about spawn Astarion how he loves the sun

[fangswbenefits]

Astarion's writer 🩷

[telumendils]

my chaotic neutral tav after learning one (1) thing about vlaakith, shar, mizora, zariel, cazador, mystra, etc:

[alifelongpassed]

Zevlor

[wyrmsgatebait]

Astarion being an embroiderer breaks my heart, because traditionally it was a skill so tied to daylight. If you looked at illustrations of embroiderers before the advent of electric lights they're always outside or near large sunny windows. Placing intricate stitches with nothing but candlelight to guide you would be a nightmare. In fact, it was outright forbidden in most professional workshops. An artist couldn't be sure of the stitch placement and most importantly the colors were dulled.

[barilleon]

One thing that I've noticed about Baldur's Gate 3 is that sometimes it really does feel like your companions are being piloted by other players. Sure, there's the standard approval system that most CRPGs have nowadays, but there is an even more powerful mechanic at play here: giving the player the option to shut the fuck up.

There are tons of moments when your companions are forced to confront parts of their past they can't shake. You always have the option to speak up for them if you like, but most times you also have the option to say nothing (sometimes the prompt is literally "say nothing," sometimes it's "let [character] handle this."

And this is such an important tactic of playing at the table: turning the spotlight onto to another player and letting them handle it. Because the story isn't just about your player character, it's about all of you.

When you do choose that option, I've noticed more often than not that the character approves of you letting them take the wheel. When you try to speak up for them, they may not express disapproval, but it comes up in the fiction. I tried to defend Astarion once and an NPC was like, "You're letting swine speak for you now?" and Astarion shouted, "I don't need anyone to speak for me!" He's right! This is his moment! Why did I say anything?

Baldur's Gate doesn't have to do this! There's no actual person piloting your companions. And in games a lot of people will say it's usually best practice to keep the spotlight on the players. But BG3 is a video game based on a tabletop game, and I think this is one of the main differences between the two. Maybe it's a tiny detail, but giving the player the option to relinquish the spotlight (and oftentimes encouraging and rewarding it) is such an incredible detail, and faithful to the medium the game is trying to emulate.

It's also a great lesson for everyone who wants to be a good player at the table: if it's not your scene, consider shutting up and letting the spotlit player handle it.

[princeofhags]

Living vicariously through Minthara’s datamined lines bc what even is this? Modern version of this meme.

[spikesbicth]

Got Love Sick All Over My Bed

Astarion x F!Reader!Tav

Summary: Astarion discovers Tav having a private moment in her tent.

approx 1.5k words

cross posted on ao3

CW: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, masturbation, maybe a tiny bit voyeurism but only if you squint. biting. vampires.

A/N: I am just in the inspiration train so I banged out (lol) this quick one shot. just feeling so creative! once again barely proofread so excuse any glaring issues. Feedback always appreciated :) enjoy!

The smell of smoke lingers on your hair and the clothes lying in a pile at the foot of your bedroll. This was a usual occurrence, as nearly every evening was spent at the fire with your companions, discussing the day and what was to come. Conversations often went in circles, regardless of what had happened that day you often felt you were no closer to safety, always in danger. During these nights, you often found your mind and your eyes wandering to Astarion, whose pale skin and sliver hair was awash with a golden glow from the firelight. He was always entrancingly beautiful, but in this light he was truly ethereal, otherworldly. You were awash with love for him, and yet at the same time completely unsure if he felt the same way or would stick around long enough for you to find out.

These memories and feelings swirl in your mind as you try to relax on the uneven ground. It was difficult to remove your doubtful thoughts of Astarion. In an effort to gain closeness to him, you had offered your neck and your blood to him. Over time, for yourself at least, it had become something you anticipated and desired each night; you wished to steal a kiss from him before the ritual. Tonight, you imagine more. You close your eyes, picturing the crescent of his collar bones under his loose silk shirt he wore each evening at camp. The spot where his jaw meets his neck. The feeling of his body pressing against yours, his broad shoulders and chest that narrow delicately to his waist, his hips, his hands…

Tonight you want him, you want what you know he is capable of doing to you. He is to meet you tonight, in your tent, after the others have settled in their own.

You have time though, don’t you…?

You feel blood rush to your pelvis, a slick arousal beginning to pool between your legs.

Unable to curb your desire you trail your cool fingers down your abdomen, pushing up goosebumps as you progress. Already naked under your blankets, you find your clit and begin to rub small circles, gentle and delicately at first. You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair, sweet with bergamot…

You imagine the smell of Astarion’s hair while he kisses you and touches you the way you touch yourself. A light gasp escapes your lips as the image sends a jolt of energy through your body and you press harder with your fingers. You move on for a moment, pushing two fingers inside of yourself, slightly shocked at how wet you have become. You slip further into your fantasy, imagining Astarion cupping your breast while he fingers you, playing with your nipple, kissing your jaw and neck. Gods, you wish for it.

“Oh my… now what do we have here..?” A voice questions in the darkness at the entrance of your tent.

Your stomach drops, and your eyes jolt open.

Oh. Fuck. You think, feeling your cheeks flush. You in fact, did not have time for this before the object of your desires arrived at your stoop. How long had he been there?

“I… uh, hi,” you croak, your mouth slightly dry from the rhythmic breathing forced by your touch.

Astarion widens the slack door of your tent and lets himself in, an knowing grin across his face. He immediately sits beside you near your pillow. No matter how unreasonable, there was no doubt to you that he knew your pounding heart was beating for him. You sit up, pulling your blanket up to cover your bare chest, feeling unusually exposed in front of him tonight.

“Shall we?” He asks, ignoring what you felt to be the elephant in the room. Though you felt embarrassment, the idea of him watching you touch yourself made your clit pulsate and wetness continue to flow from within you.

“Oh, yes… of course.” You answer, trying to hide your arousal.

Astarion moves behind you, sitting with one leg on either side of you. This was not his usual approach to feeding, and you wonder what he is planning.

“Darling, do lean back for me,” he requests, his voice deep and velvety. You lay back, resting your bare back against him. Your heart continues to pound in your chest and at this point, you were more than certain he could feel it. You tilt your chin back looking up at home with wide eyes and meeting his crimson gaze. He leans forward, and you anticipate the joining of your bodies with his bite.

To your surprise, he lays a gentle kiss on your neck. You gasp, and blink, was this a dream?

“Is that alright, my dear?” he asks, his lips brushing your neck as he spoke. You nod yes, rendered speechless by his kiss. “May I continue?” he asks again, and you nod once more, moving a hand slowly to touch one of his legs.

His kiss meets your neck again, kissing slowly, his fangs only occasionally catching your skin rather than piercing it. You feel your throbbing heartbeat between your legs, as you feel the blanket you had pulled across your chest begin to slip down as you arch your back to allow Astarion more access to your neck. The cool air grasps your nipples and they grow dense and hard in response.

“Would you like to continue to touch yourself?” He asks.

Yes Gods, Yes. You wanted to. You wanted him to watch you. Still, the bewilderment you felt of these fantastical actions playing out squirmed at the back of your mind.

“Please… I do,” you affirm. You send your free hand back down to your folds, and find them even slipperier than they were before. The blanket falls further down your chest until your breasts are fully exposed and it only covers your hand working on your clit.

Astarion moves a hand to one of your breasts, continuing to kiss your neck and jaw. His cool touch sends lighting through your body.

Your clit throbs under your fingers, swollen and sensitive. As much as you desired these moments to last forever, there was certainly no way you would be lasting very long. Moaning and gasping in Astarion’s arms, you rub yourself hungrily.

It doesn’t take much more to reach your peak, bursting into orgasm suddenly. Your hips sway, and you clench rhythmically around nothing. Your back arches and you press the back of your head into Astarion’s shoulder.

Your neck now even more exposed, Astarion sinks his teeth into you, your rich, crimson blood flowing into his mouth. You burn in pain, and you close your eyes, submitting to him.

Eventually, the rush calms, and you are left a panting, bloody mess in Astarion’s arms. You look up to his face again, this time moving to meet his mouth.

You join in a passionate kiss, and he slides his tongue into your mouth. You taste your own blood in his mouth and relish in imaging how much he enjoys the taste of you.

It was an explosion of passion, nearly as satisfying as your orgasm mere moments before. His soft lips sliding against yours, his fangs occasionally catching, his tongue touching and sliding against your own.

You pull away for a moment, looking into his ruby eyes.

“How…?” you ask, unable to find the words to describe your confusion at the sudden encounter, almost a recreation of what had occurred in your mind only moments before his arrival.

Astarion opens his mind to you, psychically linking to yours through the tadpoles that swum in your brain. You needn’t see his thoughts to know what has happened. How could you be so naive, of course the tadpole. Of course. In your fit of sudden insatiable desire, you left yourself almost completely unattended. Anyone who was tadpole-afflicted that happened to be wandering by may as well had been broadcasted the images you had conjured in your mind.

Without words, Astarion interrupts your thoughts. You see into his own mind, and are flustered by what you see. The same feelings you hold towards him, the same desires, the same yearning, the same love - but all for you.

You sit up, turning to look at him straight on, completely at a loss for words. He had wished for this as much as you had. A gentle, warm smile spreads across your face.

“Will you… stay with me tonight?” you ask, your voice faltering, still riddled with disbelief.

“I want nothing more” He replies, reaching a hand out to cup your cheek.

Like twisting vines, the two of you entangle yourselves in each others arms, and cuddle into the bedroll. Exhausted and contented, the worries that plagued your thoughts earlier that evening were nowhere to be found, and you knew that you wouldn’t be kept up from them ever again.

[jstor]

I realize I have not provided an update on my BG3 adventures and a few of you seemed invested, so...

I now have around 420 hours in the game (a little over 10 work weeks full of gameplay), I have two concurrent playthroughs in progress and 6 or 7 finished, I have many mods installed, my Tavs are beautiful, I'm playing on tactician, and I keep romancing Gale and Astarion to experience various permutations of the relationship. I have also considered making a side blog for this specific interest because I have nowhere to contain my feelings about it 😭

[melonalemonade]

I’ve been having fun with the wizard over on my horknee account on twitter

[ride-a-dromedary]

"Halsin shouldn't be that big or muscular or look middle aged because he's an elf and the lore sa-"

I actually think he should be bigger and look more middle aged, personally.

[queenmuzz]

Headcanon that Tav, knowing Astarion was once a magistrate, asks him to marry them and their chosen romance. BONUS HEADCANON: They ask while in the middle of a life or death battle, with Astarion being

[mintytealfox]

looool I hadn't noticed this in game before but Astarion looking at her like 'damn gurl, you're more openly thirsty than I am right now'

[comatosebunny09]

“your body is immaculate, darling,” astarion huffs into the junction of your shoulder, earning a most delectable sound from your lips.

he roots his nose against your carotid, inhaling slowly. you smell of earth and sweet things that make his head fill with static. he shuts his eyes against a rush of endorphins. against the gentle thrum of your blood in your veins. wears a grin of all teeth, making several expeditions over the swell of your waist with his hands. tender whilst he brands your neck with exalting kisses.

a hunger that cannot be sated by the ichor flowing through your body alone curdles in his belly.

he wants you. craves you in a way that borders animalistic. you’ve made him wait so long. made him sit pretty whilst you brushed off his blatant attempts at bedding you. made the chase all the more riveting, and for months, astarion could only dream of how wonderful you’d feel—how heavenly you’d sound—whilst he pumped himself into the cold clench of his fist, wishing it were you. praying to whatever power above that you’d catch him mid-stroke as your name slinked from his lips. praying that you would join him in his pursuit of pleasure.

but now. oh-ho-ho, now, he’s worn you down. unlatched the bindings of your armor and poured himself into the little cracks and chasms of your heart. wheedled his way beneath your skin and filled your mind with him and only him—tadpoles be damned.

the notching of your hips against his serves as a gauge for your own desire. you smile ever so big, melting like honey into his palms. reach behind to tangle your fingers in his snowy thatch of hair, drawing him impossibly closer. need to feel him any and everywhere you can.

astarion needs no further goading, taking to nipping your neck with pointed canines, careful not to break skin. your satisfied purr choruses alongside the chirp of the crickets outside. rivals the occasional flap of his tent in the breeze, and if his heart still beat, it would be the loudest thing around. thrumming like his cock in his breeches, twitching against the curve of your ass.

“my love,” he lauds. desperation swims in the underbelly of his voice, mirroring the sudden urgency of his touch. “my darling. my sweet. my princess.” and he’s breathy, hands roving over your body, scrambling to feel the suppleness of your flesh beneath them. pulling at your tunic, clawing at your breeches.

it’s as if the gods forged you just to ruin him.

“let me have you. let me make love to you. please.”

[alifelongpassed]

Just Zevlor things