#this is about minthara and halsin but i will always get with gale
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The urge to romance a new character vs the natural instinct to get with the same character you have fallen in love with yet again
#meg is rambling#this is about minthara and halsin but i will always get with gale#and about shane vs elliott on stardew valley (am a sucker for that author who lives on the beach ooghhhh)#and literally anyone in skyrim vs my mental mindset of being married to balgruuf even though i can't marry him without mods :(#oh and frederick in fire emblem awakening. I'll always marry him#and alistair anders and cullen in dragon age games. I've managed to make myself romance iron bull ONCE and all the rest i have not diverged
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Anyway, here are my thoughts about what each of the companions would present on if they had to give the rest of the party a PowerPoint presentation:
Gale: A completely accurate and detailed lecture regarding the theories of teleportation magic, how it works, and the differences between it and plane shift. There are multiple charts and graphs.
Wyll: “Choosing your hero name: an adventurer’s guide” He does have suggestions for the entire party.
Karlach: “Ranking bars in the gate based on how much they remind me of Avernus.” She has provided illustrations that she made herself. Anything in the Upper City is ranked “like Avernus” because “occupied entirely by pricks.”
Shadowheart: “So I was wrong about Shar: a reluctant apology.” It’s mostly a debunk of Shar’s lies but the entire time it does look like she is pulling teeth. However, she cheers up considerably when she presents on some of the church’s secrets, including the weird ass code names for things that she always thought were a little silly.
Lae’zel: a very educational and complete history of her people’s war against the mind flayers. It’s all rather academic until the last slide which says “AND THIS IS WHY WE DON’T EAT THE WORMS” in all caps.
Astarion: “Ranking you by whose blood I’d want to drink most.” In order, it is as follows Gale (rancid), Karlach (spicy), Minthara (probably is poisonous after all the poison she’s been exposed to), Jaheria (that story about what she did to one of the spawn was memorable), Shadowheart (does cleric blood taste radiant?), Lae’zel (curious how Gith taste, doesn’t want to die), Minsc (large and has extra blood to spare), Halsin (can turn into a bear, think of all that real estate), Wyll (canon verified snack)
Halsin: “Foraging: what’s edible and what isn’t” Gale takes very dutiful notes given someone gave him a mushroom two ten days ago that gave the entire camp food poisoning. Astarion, the only one who did not get food poisoning, who has completely forgotten what he foraged was the culprit, takes 0 notes.
Minthara: Battle orders and tactics. All of these fools need to get whipped into shape.
Jaheria: “Get it Fucking Together: Stop Doing this Shit.” What follows is a callout of everyone’s worst habits and decisions. One slide just says “stop snitching.”
Minsc: it’s just pictures of Boo.
#iz rambles#bg3#astarion#wyll ravengard#astarion ancunin#gale dekarios#Shadowheart#minsc and boo#minthara#Karlach#lae’zel#jaheria#Baldurs gate 3
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— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.
▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.
▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.
most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.
reader / tav is always gender neutral!
▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.
ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel
no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.
❈ ASTARION ;
Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.
Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.
And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.
You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.
Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.
In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.
You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.
Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.
"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.
"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"
Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.
Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.
Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.
"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."
"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."
"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."
He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.
"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."
❈ WYLL ;
it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.
For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.
You liked getting under his skin, after all.
You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills
Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.
It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.
He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.
Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.
Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.
It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.
And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.
Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.
"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."
He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.
"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."
You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."
You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."
It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.
"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.
"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."
You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.
"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"
"Sorry to disappoint."
He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.
Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.
❈ GALE ;
Gale is always the poet, never the muse.
He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.
But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.
When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.
He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.
When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.
It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.
But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.
Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.
Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.
It has a special effect on Gale.
In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.
"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"
"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."
The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.
He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"
"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.
He's glad he's alive. To feel you.
"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."
He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.
❈ SHADOWHEART ;
You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.
You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.
Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.
Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.
Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.
Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.
She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.
She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.
You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.
Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.
She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.
You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.
She loves you more than she cares to admit.
"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"
Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.
"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"
She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.
"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"
"I think it more often that I say it,"
"And you always think to call me that?"
"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"
Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.
"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."
Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.
"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."
You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"
❈ KARLACH ;
Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.
She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.
Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.
Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.
Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.
And you always explain them to her afterwards.
You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.
The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.
With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.
You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.
She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.
"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."
"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."
Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.
"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"
"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"
The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.
"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."
"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"
Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.
With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.
It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.
"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.
You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"
❈ LAE'ZEL ;
The Githyanki do not fall in love.
It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.
For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.
You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.
Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.
That you'd wait for her.
Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.
Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.
But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.
"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"
You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.
A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.
"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."
"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."
"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."
"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."
"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."
She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest
"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"
You return her smile in kind.
"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."
"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."
The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.
▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.
this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!
anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !
#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#writing tag#waah. i love them all
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Favorite Party Banter [Gale Edition]
[Astarion (Ascended)] [Halsin/Jaheira] [Gale] [Karlach] [Lae'zel] [Minsc] [Minthara] [Shadowheart] [Wyll]
I often miss party banter because of party comp (and sometimes just straight up can't hear??) so here's a collection of my favorite bants while going through dialogue files. I know the wiki has the banter (most? all?) but I added the file names and dev notes.
Either Gale is the main speaker/subject or I think his reaction is good shit.
Not in any particular order.
[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act2]
Gale: So, Lae’zel - have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, erm, romantic endeavors? {Devnote: Curiosity winning out over awkwardness}
Lae’zel: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time? {Devnote: cheekily}
Gale: Fascinating - I think the archmage Tasha described a spell with similar effect. I really must look that up… {Devnote: latter part almost to self}
[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act3_Spawn]
Gale: If you’re feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don’t mind donating some blood. {Devnote: Sincere/Genuinely trying to help}
Astarion: When you’re still full of that Netherese bile? I’ll pass, thank you.
Astarion: Besides, I have someone else to nibble on. And they are delicious.
[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_Morgue]
Gale: Look at this place. Such horrors defy descriptions…{Devnote: In very bleak/grim surroundings}
Shadowheart: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime. {Devnote: A little cheeky, though they’re in a grim place}
[PB_Gale_Shadowheart_ROM_Act3_Selune]
Gale: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. {Devnote: a bit know it all}
Gale: The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep are far superior. And they have the most excellent soaps.
Shadowheart: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager. {Devnote: teasing}
[PB_Wyll_Gale_ROM_Act2]
Gale: I’ve heard that in Baldur’s Gate, ‘wizard’ is also a term used for one who eschews their more, ahem, carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll? {Devnote: Fishing for info, a bit annoyed about what he’s heard.}
Wyll: Where are we going with this, Gale?
Gale: Oh, nowhere. I just think it a rather cruel misnomer. Not at all reflective of the glamour wizarding life affords. {Devnote: A bit sulky/sensitive about it}
[PB_Gale_Astarion_ROM_Act2]
Gale: I fear I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. {Devnote: sincere/sympathetic}
Gale: One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have must change a person.
Astarion: Thank you, Gale. Let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.
[PB_Karlach_Gale_BlushingMermaid]
Karlach: Man, it's good to be home. First round on who?
Gale: She who thirsts buys drink the first. {Devnote: Like it's a well-known saying}
Karlach: You won't pin me down with a rhyme, wizard! {Devnote: jockeying with Gale}
Gale: She who declines gets the worst of the wines.
[PB_Laezel_Gale_ROM_Act3_001]
Lae'zel: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.
Gale: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel.
Gale: The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.
[PB_Karlach_Gale_ROM_Act1]
Gale: Karlach... a hypothetical question for you.
Gale: If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another, unnamed individual, what might that someone do about it?
Karlach: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale. And leave out the hypotheticals.
Gale: Talking. Right. I'm good at that.
#bg3#bg3 dialogue#bg3 gale#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#Karlach#laezel#Astarion#wyll#shadowheart#text post#titus post#bg3 meta
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Bg3 blunt rotation headcanons:
Karlach: does not stop fucking laughing. She’s def wheezing at a joke she overheard in a lesbian bar three and a half years ago while in the middle of a sentence. The type who starts a story and ends up laughing so hard she can’t finish it.
Halsin: mellow as hell, is always encouraging the group to go for a nice walk somewhere while stoned to shit. Will he pass out or will he be caressing the flowers in his backyard? No one knows.
Shadowheart: Sis is asleep after a joint or a few hits from the bong. Is likely sleeping on Lae’zel’s shoulder with a blanket around her. We love her for that tho bc she looks so cute.
Jaheira: she is forreal trying to tell you that we’re all living in someone’s sims save or how aliens made the pyramids. Also always pulls up to the session at the most random times.
Lae’zel: when she does smoke she usually ends up tripping the fuck out and is staring at the wall like a dog that’s accidentally eaten an edible. Doesn’t partake anymore but will come and chill and act as Shart’s personal resting post.
Astarion: the one who is chatting the most shit, probably has the joint in a cigarette holder like curella de’vil. The main source of Karlach’s laughter. Is also constantly asking for Nicki Minaj songs to be added to the Spotify queue.
Wyll: straight up vibes, is probably hogging the snacks to himself tho but he’s busting jokes and laughing with Karlach about stupid shit
Gale: the person in charge of the playlist and the only one who can actually roll. He is very particular about the music bc he believes it sets the mood for the high. Is constantly denying Astarion’s request to play Chun li but puts on random shit like khazakstani jazz
Minthara: enabling Astarion’s shit talking and spilling the piping hot tea. The least faded out of all of them (except lae). Has a screenshot folder that she shows astarion so they can be shady.
Aylin: she’s productive when she’s stoned, is likely cooking something or has gone for a jog/ doing a task while wearing her socks/ Birkenstock combo
Isobel: the mom friend who is making sure everyone is drinking water and is getting fresh air while fried.
Withers: the za dealer. You have to go to his house and he only sells a min of 6gs at a time. Usually chilling and trying to hide his weed plants from the cops bc his neighbours are snitches ngl
Minsc and boo (sry I be forgetting): Brings his hamster to the function bc he doesn't want him to be lonely and believes that his best bud deserves a toke as well. Boo is a literal fucking menace and bites those who object to giving him any. There is literally always an argument bc of this but Minsc is ready to fight for his child.
#before you ask yes im high as shit while writing this#bg3#baldur’s gate 3#shadowheart#halsin#karlach cliffgate#minthara#lae’zel#astarion#gale waterdeep#wyll ravengard#jaheria#dame aylin#bg3 shitpost#shitpost#headcanon#bg3 withers#bg3 companions#tw drugs#tw: weed#Minsc#Minsc and boo
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I don't know of you have done something like this, but if not, could you do scenarios for the dark au where tav gets hurt by someone who wants to take their place? Maybe they think they are unworthy? Adore your writing 😊
Ahhh thank you so much !! This was super fun to write !
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Dark!BG3 | Replacement
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin, GrandDuke!Wyll
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
CW: Controlling, manipulation, coercion, forced memory loss, blood, murder, F!reader only noticeable in Wyll's though
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Conqueror Minthara:
The dark silence of the Underdark gardens wrapped around you like a shroud, broken only by the echo of your own hurried footsteps. The recent fight with Minthara had left you frustrated, her possessive nature grating at you until you’d finally stormed off. You knew it would unsettle her; Minthara wasn’t one to let anyone, least of all you, slip from her grasp so easily. Still, you had hoped she’d give you a moment to breathe. As you heard footsteps approaching, you rolled your eyes, assuming she had come after you, too possessive to let even a single disagreement take you from her.
But something felt wrong.
The figure moving toward you was silent, controlled—lacking Minthara’s usual predatory grace. You barely had time to react before you saw a glint of steel, and a sharp pain seared across your side. You stumbled backward, clutching the wound, blood slipping through your fingers. As you looked up, your gaze met with the cold, disdainful eyes of Minthara’s second in command, the drow who had always regarded you with thinly veiled contempt. Her smile was a twisted thing, cold and malicious.
“Surprised?” she sneered, moving closer, her weapon dripping with your blood. “You really thought Minthara would care about some pet who has no place here? I’m going to end this—make it look like you couldn’t handle the Underdark after all. That you tried to escape. Minthara will believe it. She’ll have no choice but to move on.”
A chill ran through you as you realized the depth of her envy. This wasn’t just hatred; it was the envy of someone who despised what you had with Minthara, resenting that Minthara would choose you over anyone else. She stepped forward again, preparing to strike. But before she could make contact, you shoved her back with all the strength you could muster, sending her stumbling.
She staggered, then stopped short as her back hit something solid.
No… someone.
The second-in-command whirled around, eyes widening in horror as she came face-to-face with Minthara herself, who stood in the shadowed path with a deadly calm. Minthara’s gaze was dark, her face set into an expression of quiet, simmering rage that made the air feel even colder. Her eyes flicked from her subordinate’s trembling form to the blood dripping from your wound, taking in the entire scene in an instant.
“It’s not what—” the second-in-command stammered, scrambling for words, but Minthara cut her off with a look that could freeze fire.
“Silence.” Her voice was low, yet filled with an icy fury that sent a shiver down your spine. She reached out with a quick, brutal motion, grabbing her second-in-command by the throat, squeezing hard enough to cut off any attempt at explanation. The drow gasped for air, her eyes wide with terror as Minthara’s grip tightened, her nails digging into the delicate skin of her neck.
Minthara leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper.
“You thought you could lay a hand on what belongs to me? You dared to assume you had any right to touch them?” With a powerful surge, Minthara threw her to the ground, her movements sharp and precise, her eyes blazing with an almost unhinged rage. “You’ll wish for death before I’m done with you.”
The second-in-command lay incapacitated, her body twitching as Minthara’s magic left her unable to move, trapped in a state of suspended agony. Only then did Minthara turn her attention to you, her expression softening slightly as she moved toward you with an almost predatory care. She knelt beside you, her hand reaching out to steady you as she examined the wound on your side.
“You were hurt,” she murmured, a faint trace of anger still lacing her tone, but there was something else, too—a flicker of concern beneath the dark fury. She ran a gentle hand over your wound, applying enough pressure to stem the bleeding, her touch unexpectedly tender.
Despite the pain, you found yourself laughing, a soft chuckle that echoed through the silence.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me out of your sight,” you managed, your voice laced with irony. “Couldn’t lose control over me for even a moment, could you?”
Minthara’s eyes met yours, a dangerous glint in them, but there was something close to satisfaction there too.
“And a good thing it was,” she replied, her lips curving into a dark smile. “Or perhaps I would’ve had to hunt down the fool who thought they could steal you from me.”
Her hand moved from your wound to cradle your face, her thumb tracing your cheek in a gesture that was both possessive and strangely affectionate.
“You belong to me,” she whispered, her voice fierce. “No one else. Don’t ever forget that.”
She helped you to your feet, her arm around your waist, her grip both a support and a reminder of her control. You leaned into her touch, feeling the strength in her hold, the unyielding protection that came with her possessive love.
Behind you, her second-in-command lay helpless, bound by Minthara’s spell, and you knew without a doubt that her fate would be brutal. You didn’t need to watch to know that Minthara’s punishment would be swift and merciless. She would make an example out of her former subordinate, a warning to anyone who dared threaten what was hers.
As Minthara led you back through the garden, her hand firm around you, you felt a mixture of relief and resignation. She had saved your life, yes, but the possessiveness that drove her had been there all along, the dark and consuming love that wouldn’t allow you even a moment of freedom. She had saved you, but it was all to preserve what she saw as hers.
The pain in your side pulsed, but Minthara’s hand remained steady on your waist, her grip almost comforting in its possessiveness. In her twisted mind, her actions were justified. She had protected you, saved you from harm—she would do anything to keep you, even if that meant wrapping you tighter in her control.
As you walked together, you glanced up at her, and for a moment, you thought you saw a hint of something soft in her gaze. But then her expression shifted, her smile dark and triumphant. In her mind, she had won; she had kept you safe, defeated any threat to her claim on you.
And as she led you deeper into her realm, into the shadows where you would remain by her side, you knew that you would always be hers.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Mother Superior Shadowheart:
The courtyard of the cloister was cloaked in the muted gray light of early morning, shadows creeping along the stone walls as you squared off against your opponent. You took in the young Sharran before you, an ambitious acolyte whose eyes gleamed with a familiar hunger—a dangerous mix of ambition and jealousy.
You’d noticed their glances toward Shadowheart, the way they lingered when she walked past, barely concealing the devotion in their gaze. It was almost amusing to you, for no one in this cloister could threaten the place you held at her side. The memory gaps may have left holes in your mind, but your body moved with sharp, instinctual precision, honed through countless battles. You didn’t need memory to remind you that you were one of the best.
You circled each other, fists raised, and the acolyte’s stance was confident, too confident. You could feel the arrogance radiating from them, and it made you chuckle under your breath. They thought they were someone to be feared, someone with the skill to challenge you. And yet, as the fight began, it was clear they had underestimated your reflexes, your raw power.
Blow after blow, you dodged, struck, and blocked with a near-effortless grace that left them seething. It was obvious now they were outmatched, but there was no sign of retreat in their eyes. Instead, their lips curled into a sneer, and they muttered something under their breath—something too low for you to hear, but the bitterness was evident. And then, with a swift, practiced motion, they reached inside their cloak and pulled out a dagger, its blade glinting sharply in the dim light.
You felt a flicker of surprise. This was supposed to be a sparring match, nothing more, and yet they’d brought a knife into the fight. You tensed, muscles coiling as your eyes narrowed on the blade in their hand.
“So,” they taunted, their voice laced with venom, “the Mother Superior’s pet isn’t as sharp as she used to be. Gaps in memory, isn’t it? She doesn’t tell you everything, does she? How does it feel to be kept like a mindless tool, only good for taking orders?” They circled closer, eyes glinting with malicious amusement. “You don’t belong by her side. You’re just… convenient. Nothing more.”
The words stung, gnawing at the back of your mind. It was true that there were holes in your memories, pieces that didn’t quite fit, details that you couldn’t fully recall. But you pushed the thoughts aside, refusing to let them take root. Whatever was missing, whatever had been forgotten, it didn’t matter. You were here, and you were hers. That was all that mattered.
But the Sharran sensed your hesitation, a flash of doubt, and they pressed their advantage, lunging forward with the dagger. You dodged, narrowly avoiding the blade as it sliced through the air, but their relentless attacks began to push you back. You caught glimpses of their smirk, their taunting gaze, as if they were relishing every missed block, every moment of weakness.
And then, in a swift, brutal move, they managed to slip through your guard, the dagger cutting across your arm. You hissed in pain, blood dripping from the fresh wound, and you staggered back, feeling the weight of the fight suddenly shift. They saw the opening, and their eyes lit up with a triumphant gleam. They lunged forward again, the dagger poised for the killing blow.
But just as the blade was about to strike, they stopped—frozen in place, eyes wide with terror. Their limbs were rigid, locked in a stance of helpless fury, and a faint, dark aura shimmered around them. You looked up, following the line of their terrified gaze, and saw her.
Shadowheart stood at the edge of the courtyard, her eyes blazing with fury, her hand raised in a silent spell. With a flick of her wrist, the Sharran acolyte’s head twisted sharply, an audible snap echoing through the air as their body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
For a moment, the only sound was your own ragged breathing as Shadowheart strode forward, her expression a cold mask of wrath. She didn’t even glance at the fallen acolyte, her focus entirely on you. She knelt beside you, her hands gentle as they traced over the wound on your arm, her fingers glowing with a faint healing light.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice soft, a sharp contrast to the deadly fury she had just displayed.
You nodded, your gaze flicking between her and the lifeless body nearby.
“They… they mentioned something about gaps in my memory,” you said cautiously, searching her eyes. “They said I don’t belong here. That I don’t know the whole truth.”
A shadow passed over her face, and for a moment, her grip on your arm tightened slightly. But then she softened, her fingers brushing over your skin as if to soothe the hurt beyond the physical wound.
“They were just trying to weaken you, to plant seeds of doubt in your mind,” she replied, her voice steady and calm. “Your place is here, with me. By my side. You belong nowhere else.”
She leaned closer, her gaze locking onto yours with a fierce intensity. “The gaps in your memory… they’re a consequence of the life you had before. A life that no longer matters. I saved you from that. I brought you here, to the cloister, where you can be who you’re meant to be. With me.”
The warmth of her magic seeped into your wound, and you felt the pain ebb away, replaced by a comforting numbness. The lingering doubt in your mind was overshadowed by the strength of her conviction, her unwavering belief in the path she had set for you. Shadowheart was your anchor, your guiding star, and you could feel the weight of her possessive devotion wrapping around you, a reminder that whatever had come before no longer held any power over you.
You managed a small smile, nodding as you reached up to brush a hand over her cheek, feeling the coolness of her skin.
“I trust you,” you murmured. “And I’m grateful to be by your side.”
She returned your smile, her gaze softening as she covered your hand with her own.
“Good. Because that’s exactly where you belong.” She cast one last, dismissive glance at the body of the acolyte, her lips curling in distaste. “No one else will threaten you. They don’t deserve to stand in your shadow.”
As she helped you to your feet, her arm wrapped around your waist, guiding you back to the cloister, the doubt faded away entirely. Whatever shadows lingered in your past, whatever memories had been lost, it didn’t matter. You were hers, and she was yours, and no one would ever take that from you.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
God of Ambition Gale:
The dim candlelight of the summoning chamber cast flickering shadows over the cold stone walls, and the air was thick with incense and chanting. You shifted slightly, testing the limits of the runic circle that bound you in place, but every movement was met with an oppressive, invisible force, pressing down on you with unyielding weight.
As the realization settled in, your initial smirk of amusement at this mortal’s audacity faded, replaced by a gnawing unease. It was almost laughable how easily they had managed to capture you; Gale’s control over your divine power left you vulnerable, deliberately kept weak to prevent you from ever fully escaping his grasp. And now, as you felt your strength ebbing, you understood the gravity of your situation.
The follower knelt before you, a zealous glint in their eyes as they recited incantations, their voice laced with fervor. Dressed in elaborate robes, they wore talismans devoted to Gale, symbols of their fanatical devotion etched into every surface of the summoning chamber. The entire place was a shrine to ambition itself, each detail meticulously designed to honor your god—and your captor.
The follower finally lifted their gaze to you, a manic smile stretching across their face.
"You don’t deserve him," they hissed, their tone a poisonous mix of reverence and disdain. "You’re a weak god, nothing more than a hollow vessel given power by him. But me…" They leaned forward, their voice trembling with adoration. "I could worship him in ways you never could. Gale deserves undivided devotion, unbroken ambition. Not… someone as faint and powerless as you."
You opened your mouth to respond, to laugh off their words, but the runes pulsed, and with each pulse, you felt a new wave of your strength drain, seeping out of you and into the lines of the ritual. Your heart sank. This wasn’t just a simple binding. It was a siphoning—a slow, deliberate draw on your power, meant to weaken you enough to fuel the summoning of Gale himself.
They took a step closer, their eyes wide with triumph as they watched the light fading in your eyes.
"How does it feel, I wonder, knowing your own god keeps you shackled like a plaything? To be so close to greatness, yet to never truly be allowed to touch it?" They tilted their head, enjoying your silence, interpreting it as surrender.
And for a moment, there was fear in you. Not for yourself but for the terrible emptiness left behind as your power faded—a hollow reminder of Gale’s relentless control. You knew he saw you as his own, a piece of his ambition that could never exist independently, even as a god. This mortal, in their arrogance, had taken advantage of that very control, and now you were helpless in a way that gnawed at you.
The ritual circle blazed with renewed energy, and the room shook as a presence took form in the air—a dark, powerful force pressing down on everything within the chamber. The candle flames flickered and bowed as if in reverence, and a sudden silence swallowed the chanting, the air itself holding its breath as Gale stepped into the room, his very presence swallowing up all light and sound.
The follower fell to their knees, eyes wide with reverence and ecstasy.
"My lord!" they whispered, their voice filled with adoration as they reached out toward him. "I have shown you my devotion, captured this… pretender, to prove my worth. I am yours, my lord. Take me in place of—"
Gale’s gaze shifted from you to his devotee, a glint of curiosity sparking in his dark eyes as he studied them. His expression was unreadable, his face set into that unsettlingly calm mask he wore whenever he assessed someone who had piqued his interest. For a moment, the acolyte seemed to believe they had earned his favor, their face glowing with hope as they knelt before him.
But then Gale’s eyes narrowed, and a chill swept over the room as his expression darkened.
“You misunderstand your place,” he said, his voice soft, the calm tone belying the fury simmering beneath it. "You, a mere follower, believed yourself capable of taking what is mine?" He took a slow, measured step forward, his gaze never leaving the trembling form before him. "Did you think that capturing a god under my domain would earn my favor? Or did you simply seek to undermine me, thinking yourself worthy of such�� ambition?"
The follower’s eyes widened in terror as they tried to back away, words of apology tumbling from their lips, but Gale’s power was already wrapping around them, a dark, suffocating force that held them immobile.
“It seems you lack an understanding of devotion," Gale continued, his voice chilling in its softness. "Let me show you what happens to those who overstep their bounds."
With a flick of his wrist, the follower’s body seized up, their breath catching in their throat as they gasped, unable to move. Gale’s magic seemed to compress around them, their bones creaking as his power slowly crushed the life from them, his face a mask of calm detachment. Their eyes rolled back in agony, their limbs contorting as Gale made his judgment swift and final, using them as an example of ambition misguided.
And then, in a flash, it was over. The follower’s lifeless form crumpled to the ground, leaving a chilling silence in the air.
Gale finally turned his attention to you, his expression softening as he regarded you, though the possessiveness in his gaze was as strong as ever. He stepped into the circle, effortlessly dispersing the runes with a wave of his hand, releasing you from the binding that had held you so helplessly in place. He reached out, fingers brushing over your cheek with a strange tenderness, his touch a reminder of both his power and his control over you.
“Fear not, my muse,” he murmured, his voice rich with dark affection. “No one else will touch what belongs to me. Not even those who worship me.”
You nodded, your head dipping in a gesture of submission, knowing that he would take no other answer. Gale smiled, his thumb tracing your jawline with possessive satisfaction, and he pulled you close, his hand settling at the back of your neck.
“You are bound to me,” he whispered, his voice soft but laced with command. “Your power is mine to grant or withhold, and none shall touch it, or you, without my will.”
And with that, he led you from the chamber, the empty remains of his follower a silent warning to any who dared question the place he had carved out for you in his unyielding ambition. Gale was your god, your captor, and your guardian all in one—and no one would come between you and his dark, consuming love.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Ascended Astarion:
The sunlight was unforgiving, searing down on your skin the instant you were thrown into it. Agony flared as the delicate warding spell that had protected you disintegrated, leaving you exposed to the relentless rays of the sun. Pain consumed you, blinding and unbearable as your flesh burned, blistering and cracking in mere seconds.
You stumbled, gasping as the raw heat seared through muscle and bone. You tried to scream, but your voice died in your throat, choked out by the fire consuming you. The world was blurring in and out, and through the haze of agony, you could make out the blurred silhouette of your attacker, smirking from the safety of the shadows just inside the door, watching with satisfaction as you writhed.
The spawn had been relentless in their ambition, and it was only in that agonizing moment that you finally understood just how deeply their envy ran. They thought themselves worthy of Astarion’s favor, the one destined to be his dark consort, and they had waited for the right opportunity, the chance to strip you of your place by his side.
Your vision dimmed as the fire ate away at you, the edges of consciousness fading. You barely registered the door bursting open again or the cold shadow that swept over you as hands—cold, firm hands—gripped you and pulled you away from the merciless light. The next thing you felt was the cool press of stone beneath you, the oppressive heat gone, and then… nothing. There was nothing but pain and darkness.
Through the haze, you felt something pressed to your lips—warm and metallic, filling your senses with the rich, familiar scent of blood. Instinctively, you drank, the sensation grounding you, soothing the burning wounds with each pull. Slowly, the pain dulled, replaced by a distant, comforting hum. Your senses began to return, the blurry edges of the room coming into focus as you felt the charred skin mending, painfully knitting back together as life returned to your broken form.
As you finally blinked the haze from your eyes, you found yourself staring up at Astarion’s face, his crimson eyes softened with an uncharacteristic tenderness, though his mouth was drawn into a taut line. His hand cupped your cheek as if you were something fragile, his thumb brushing over the fresh, healed skin where burns had marred it only moments ago. He was murmuring softly, words flowing over you in a tone both soothing and possessive, though you could hardly process them in your dazed state.
“It’s all right, my sweet,” he cooed, his voice low and warm as he leaned over you, his face barely inches from yours. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone harm you, not like that.”
You blinked, slowly looking past him, only to freeze as the full scene came into focus. Scattered around you were bloodied remains—the spawn, or rather, what was left of them, was strewn across the room. Their limbs had been torn from their body, reduced to a gruesome pile of parts on the cold stone floor. The once-confident smirk you had seen on their face was gone, replaced now by a horrified stillness in their lifeless eyes.
Astarion’s grip on you tightened as he followed your gaze, his expression darkening.
“Oh, don’t waste your energy on them,” he murmured, his tone smooth but edged with a chilling coldness. He tilted your face back to him, forcing your gaze to meet his. “They thought they could take what’s mine, dared to strip you of the protection I gave you, to hurt you. But they forgot one simple thing.”
His hand traced down from your cheek to your throat, where his fingers rested possessively, feeling the steady pulse of your blood.
“You’re mine. Body, soul, and everything in between,” he whispered, his voice a velvet command. “No one else could ever take your place.”
The fear, the agony, the helplessness of moments ago seemed to fade as he held you, his arms wrapped around you with a fierce protectiveness. His fingers stroked through your hair as he continued to murmur assurances, the words as binding as a spell, each one a reaffirmation of your place at his side. There was no room for doubt; in his arms, you were shielded from the pain, shielded from everything but his absolute, consuming devotion.
“They all think they’re special, my dear,” he said, casting a disdainful glance at the remains. “But they’re not like you, none of them. You, my sweet, are the only one worthy of my power, my attention. You belong to me—and I to you.” He smiled, a cold, dangerous glint in his eyes as he brushed a lock of hair back from your face. "And I won’t let anyone interfere with that."
You managed a weak nod, leaning into his touch as he continued to hold you close. The last vestiges of the agony you had endured melted away, leaving only the soft, possessive murmur of his voice, the steady rhythm of his fingers tracing over your skin, as he soothed and calmed you back from the brink. He was your anchor, your constant, and in this moment, his power was a shield around you.
As he held you, the remnants of his wrath still lingering in his gaze, you knew that no one else would ever challenge your place beside him. Astarion had made his stance clear in the most brutal way possible, a warning to any who would dare cross him—and a reminder to you that, no matter what, he would always keep you close, bound to him in his dark, all-encompassing love.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Naturist Halsin:
The grove was quiet, the leaves whispering softly as a gentle breeze passed through, but that night, something felt amiss. Halsin lay beside you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you slept, and assumed you were simply exhausted from the long day spent in the forest. He smiled, pressing a light kiss to your forehead, and closed his own eyes, content to rest with you beside him. But when he stirred from sleep later in the night, something had changed. A low, strangled sound pulled him from his slumber, and in the faint moonlight, he saw your body trembling, the tremors rolling through you like a shiver from the deepest cold.
You weren’t asleep; you were convulsing, and a dark glisten of sweat clung to your brow. Alarm shot through Halsin, who immediately recognized the signs of poison—a potent, slow-working concoction he’d seen used in rare cases within the grove.
His mind raced as he searched for the antidote, pulling it from his stores and carefully administering it, tilting your head back to help you drink, whispering words of encouragement as he steadied your shaking hands.
After a few agonizing moments, the worst of your spasms subsided, and your breathing leveled out. Weak and shaken, you looked up at him with hazy eyes, trying to focus. Halsin kept his gaze soft, filled with concern but tinged with a growing anger simmering beneath. He held you close as you regained your strength, his hand a steady presence on your back.
Once you could stand, Halsin supported you, guiding you from your resting place out into the heart of the grove. Under the canopy of starlit leaves, he called upon the druids, summoning them with a low, commanding tone. His voice reverberated through the grove, uncharacteristically severe, and one by one, the druids gathered in the clearing, forming a loose circle around you both.
Halsin’s protective arm around your shoulders lent you strength as you looked at each of their faces, searching for the one who had betrayed you.
Though your hands still trembled, your gaze hardened as you focused on a single figure at the edge of the circle, a druid whose stance was too stiff, whose eyes averted yours. The poisoner looked back at you, a faint glint of resentment flashing in their eyes before they began to back away, inching toward the cover of the trees. Without hesitation, you raised a shaky hand, pointing directly at them.
"It’s… it’s them," you whispered, your voice weak but sure.
The druid’s face twisted with fear and defiance, and in one swift motion, they turned, making a desperate break toward the edge of the grove, hoping to escape into the shadows.
But Halsin would not allow them to flee. His jaw tightened, his fury coming to the surface in an uncharacteristic, brutal wave. With a single gesture, he summoned thick, thorned vines from the earth.
They erupted from the soil with a life of their own, coiling like serpents as they slithered after the fleeing druid. The vines caught up quickly, wrapping around the traitor’s legs and yanking them down to the ground, winding up over their body with fierce intent.
The thorned vines tightened, digging into flesh, piercing through clothing and skin alike. Blood began to pool, dark and stark against the earthy ground, as the vines tore through, showing no mercy. The grove seemed to hold its breath, watching as the very nature that the traitor had twisted for their own purposes now turned on them. Halsin’s gaze was unyielding as he watched, his expression set, the compassion he usually reserved for his people absent.
The druid let out a strangled cry as the thorns pressed deeper, breaking skin and severing tendons, each tightening coil met with a gory result. Their blood soaked into the earth, nourishing it, just as Halsin had intended, a grotesque reminder of what happened to those who threatened his own. For him, this act was justice—a stark, undeniable message to any who might dare undermine the safety of his grove or his kin.
Finally, as the druid’s life slipped away, Halsin released his hold, the vines loosening and receding back into the ground, leaving only silence and the faint scent of blood on the forest floor.
When it was over, he turned to you, his expression softening as he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
"You are safe now," he said, his voice a blend of calm and the fierce protectiveness that had driven him to act so ruthlessly. “No one will harm you here again.”
Though you were shaken, you found strength in his touch, nodding as he pulled you close, his embrace as unyielding as the very nature he had summoned to protect you. The grove was a place of sanctuary, of balance—and Halsin had shown that he would stop at nothing to keep it that way, even if it meant spilling blood into the very soil he had sworn to protect.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Grand Duke Wyll:
The opulence of the ballroom shimmered around you, chandeliers casting warm light over the swirling dancers, the ornate fabrics, and glittering jewels. You held your head high beside the Grand Duke, finding solace in the joy of the night despite the whispers that trailed in your wake. Nobles murmured, their words carrying faintly over the music. Most of it you had learned to ignore, but tonight, the gossip felt sharp and unrelenting. Snippets of conversation floated past, just loud enough to reach your ears.
“Can you believe they let her into the ballroom at his side?” one of them whispered with a haughty laugh. “She looks more suited to a servant’s position,” sneered another, their words laced with contempt. You clenched your hands at your sides, taking steady breaths to brush off their malice. But then, their murmurs grew darker.
“I heard the Grand Duke only keeps her around for amusement. How long, I wonder, until he tires of her?” someone murmured, laughing softly. “It would be such a scandal if she were to just… disappear, wouldn’t it?”
Their venomous words stung in a way that you hadn’t anticipated, pressing upon a wound that you had tried to bury. You excused yourself, weaving through the crowd until you found the balcony, stepping out into the cool night air. The stars twinkled overhead, their beauty a quiet comfort against the bitterness of the nobles’ words. You leaned against the balustrade, the city lights below calming you, giving you a moment’s peace. But that peace was short-lived.
Behind you, the same group of nobles had followed, lingering just by the doorway. One of them tittered, their tone thick with false innocence.
“Out here on the balcony, alone?” another mocked, their tone feigning concern. “Careful, dear. You wouldn’t want to lose your balance.”
You turned to leave, but they circled around, blocking your path with thinly veiled malice. Their eyes gleamed with an unsettling intent as they crowded closer, nudging you further out toward the edge of the balcony. Your pulse quickened as your back met the cold stone of the balustrade, the space behind you yawning into open air.
“Oh, no need to look so frightened. We’re simply having a little chat,” one of them cooed, their smirk betraying their intent. They pressed closer, each small movement edging you nearer to the ledge.
Then, a voice rang out, slicing through the tension like a knife:
“Enough.” Wyll’s voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable, sharp edge beneath it that cut the air like steel. The nobles immediately straightened, stepping back from you, their sneers evaporating as they turned to face the Grand Duke himself.
“We were only talking to her, Your Grace,” one of them stammered, their tone suddenly meek. “No harm intended.”
Wyll’s gaze was dark, his eyes smoldering as he took in the scene, his jaw set and expression unreadable. He looked at you, his expression softening for a moment.
“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice gentler, the protective undercurrent unmistakable. You swallowed, brushing off the fear that had crept in.
“Yes, Wyll. I’m fine,” you replied, trying to steady your voice.
But he didn’t release his hard gaze from the group of nobles before him. His mouth curved slightly, a hint of a chilling smile playing at his lips as he issued his next command: “Jump. Off. The. Balcony.”
The nobles’ eyes widened, shock rippling through their features. One of them dared a weak laugh, disbelief clear in their tone. “Your Grace, we were only—”
Wyll’s smile vanished, replaced by an expression of cold steel. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low and final, his gaze unwavering as he pointed toward the balcony’s edge. “If you think it’s amusing to dangle someone on the edge, let’s see how you enjoy it.”
You placed a hand on his arm, trying to dissuade him. “Wyll, it’s not necessary,” you murmured softly. “They were… they were just being cruel.”
He turned to you, his eyes softening as he spoke, but the resolve remained.
“No one threatens what is mine,” he replied, his words more promise than explanation. “No one.”
He looked back at the nobles, who now trembled under his gaze, each one of them calculating their next move. They understood the Grand Duke’s reputation well—his ruthlessness and sadistic side were spoken of in hushed tones among court circles, and none of them were willing to test his patience further.
With shared glances of terror, one by one, they stepped up to the edge, each steeling themselves before casting nervous glances back at Wyll. They preferred to take their chances with the fall than face his wrath.
With a reluctant step backward, the first noble swung a leg over the edge, preparing to lower themselves down rather than leap, followed by the others, each descending with as much dignity as they could muster. Their terrified breaths and grunts of effort echoed faintly as they made their way down to the ground below. Each fall was punctuated with a sickening thud that made your stomach lurch each time.
When the last of them was gone, Wyll turned back to you, his expression softening again. He reached out, brushing a gentle hand against your cheek, his voice lowering to a soothing murmur. “No one will ever make you feel less than what you are, not while I am here. Do you understand?”
You nodded, his touch grounding you, the earlier fear beginning to fade. Wyll wrapped an arm around you, drawing you close, his gaze lingering protectively as he looked back over the balcony, ensuring that no one was there to help any unfortunate survivors, he wanted to let them rot, let the world see what happens to those who threaten what is his.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Okay so no cambions in this, I'm going to add them when I finish their catch ups because I kind of follow a narrative with these and I have not fully fleshed out their narritives yet. Hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#minthara x reader#minthara x tav#conqueror Minthara#Minthara#yandere gale dekarios#yandere bg3#yandere Minthara x reader#yandere shadowheart#yandere shadowheart x reader#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart bg3#mother superior shadowheart#ascended astarion x reader#ascended astarion x tav#ascended astarion#yandere astarion#yandere halsin#dark halsin#halsin x reader#god!gale x reader#dark bg3#god gale#yandere wyll x reader#grand duke wyll ravengard x reader#grand duke wyll ravengard x tav#grand duke wyll
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Thank you lovely people for giving me a chance to ramble more about something (this is genuine, i mean no shade)
I find it really cool how every character has a parallel with Durge! In general every single romance pairing has reasons for why i think "yeah i could see them being good together", but I love those for Durge especially since I think about Durges way too much
Gale. Prodigy, Chosen of a God(ess) with a relationship that went far past god/Chosen, with him and Mystra being 'lovers' and Durge and Bhaal being 'family'. They were also both groomed to a degree to fulfill a role and have since fallen from grace of their gods.
Lae'zel. Raised in what is essentially a cult, having her entire world fall apart when she learns the truth about Vlaakith and Orpheus (while Durge's world falls apart when they learn about who they are in act 3). Cult has harsh and merciless punishments for those that disappoint, with death and beatings for githyanki and... Well. You know what, for Durge (looking at you, deleted bad ending).
Shadowheart. Having an equivalent of an electric collar on you that her God(ess) can punish her with (for Durge, that punishment isnt so immediate but Bhaal can literally stop their heart if he wants to). Amnesia. Having to choose between leading your cult or leaving everything you thought you knew and being an outcast. Depending on what you do with Shart, they also both kill their parents.
Karlach. Having your body changed without your consent, in drastic ways that you have no control over; the engine for Karlach, lobotomy + Slayer form for Durge (slayer in a more minor way but i will say that even in evil route you dont get a say whether or not you transform the first time). They both hurt people that get close to then without meaning to. They both have someone more powerful who sees them as property. Also, ties to Gortash.
Wyll. Daddy issues! And being rejected and outcast by your Father, wanting to prove yourself that you're still worthy. They were also both given shitty fucking names by their dads. They both at some point chose between power at the cost of freedom and freedom at the cost of literally everything; Wyll when he made a deal with Mizora, Durge at multiple points through the game when it comes to Bhaal. They both struggle with being tied to an evil, manipulative being that wants them isolated and weak and alone. Similar with Karlach, unwilling body modification, but specifically one that turns you into a 'monster'.
Astarion. 'Father'. 'Siblings' that you are in constant and brutal competition with, for momentary approval of your Creator who will never have enough of anything short but the world. Creator who's end goal very much includes you dying for him. Having no bodily autonomy as your Creator can literally violate your mind whenever. Sexual abuse. Struggling with bloodthirst! Your existence itself is violent, you can't live without hurting someone! (Bloodthirst for Ass, Urges for Durge)
Halsin. (Potential) guilt for something you have done, being pushed in a leadership position (Halsin at the grove, Durge with companions) that you may or may not be unsuited for. Being so, so alone, without anyone to care for your feelings. They both also have sides of them that they sometimes can't control, with the Bear and Urges, or more literally, the Slayer.
Minthara. A proud and efficent warrior that got one upped by a person they underestimated. Ties to Orin. Living as someone with the highest social status in a brutal, cruel society. Fanatic worship of an objectively evil god(ess) and then the betrayal that follows, waking up from quite literal brainwashing, seeing how your God(ess) turns against you.
And I could go on! Theyre all so good and interesting and depending on what path you decide to take, there is always something that Durge can relate to on with any companion! I tried to avoid repeating points or talking about my Durge specifically by just talking about what is set in canon for them, and there is still! So! Much!
#i love this game#it works in every way when it comes to romance#like i could think of any pairing and find a way itd reasonably work out for them depending on which direction you take the characters#but anyway yeah another ramble#bg3#bg3 companions#the dark urge#durge#baldur's gate 3#bg3 karlach#bg3 laezel#bg3 gale#bg3 wyll#wyll ravengard#gale dekarios#karlach cliffgate#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#minthara#halsin silverbough#bg3 halsin
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So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.
Dealing with a Teacher Tav
[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]
[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]
Gale
He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.
Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.
Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.
He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.
Shadowheart
She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.
She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?
One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.
Laezel
Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.
You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?
Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?
Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.
Wyll
As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.
The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.
Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.
You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.
He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."
You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.
Karlach
Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.
In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.
She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?
Astarion
You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.
It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.
Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.
Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.
Halsin
Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.
But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.
Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.
Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.
Minthara
As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.
Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.
....it's not as bad as she imagined.
She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.
But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.
Jaheira
Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.
Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.
A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.
If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.
Minsc
Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.
Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.
You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.
#♡Gale#♡Shart#♡Astarion#♡Laezel#♡Wyll#♡Minthara#♡Halsin#♡Jaheira#♡Minsc#♡Karlach#♡fluff#♡several characters#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#astarion x reader#karlach x reader#wyll x reader#minthara x reader#halsin x reader#jaheira x reader#Minsc x reader#bg3 x reader#bg3 fluff#baldur's gate 3 x reader#laezel x reader
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So, I'm in the middle of typing up a mini essay about fandom opinion about Minthara and how she is often mischaracterized, especially by those who do not know her. One of the points that I bring up in that essay is that she is the most loyal companion. Then, I really started to question to myself, how exactly is Minthara the most loyal?
Shadowheart will leave your party if you don't take her to confront the Nightsong. Astarion will leave your party if you refuse to help him at all with the ascension ritual. Lae'zel will leave the party if you try to leave the creche without going into the Astral Prism and you fail to convince her to trust you. Wyll and Karlach will leave the party if you raid the grove. I believe Wyll may also leave in regards to a very specific outcome with his dad, but I can't find anything to confirm this. Gale will leave the party if you fail to convince him to stay after the grove raid, or you fail to stabilize his orb by the end of Act 2. Halsin will leave the party if you fail to resolve the Shadow Curse by the end of Act 2. Jaheira will leave the party if Minsc dies, or if Durge accepts Bhaal. Minsc will leave the party if Durge accepts Bhaal.
But there is not a single decision you can make that will make Minthara leave your party. Once she is there, she is there for good. You can make whatever stupid decision you want, good or evil, and she'll still be right there. You can make whatever decision she disagrees with, and she'll still be right there. You can leave her behind in camp when confronting Ketheric or Orin (even after she begs you to take her with you), and she'll still be right there. You can blow up the Netherbrain, and she'll still be right there. You can literally be the nicest do-gooder in the world, and she will still be right fucking there. She might be irritated, but she'll still be right there.
You literally have to purposefully drive her away to get her to leave, and that can only be done by getting her affinity deep into the negatives. And even the most morally good of players won't be able to naturally do that on their own. You have to go out of your way and purposefully choose every option that will piss her off. So, as long as you're not an asshole to her, she will stay by your side no matter what.
That's what I love about BG3 and the subversion of tropes. The one companion who will stick with you through thick and thin, is the "evil" one. The one companion who will never betray you in any way, is the "evil" one (which is ironic as she comes from a culture that is all about betraying the ones closest to you). You can recruit all 10 companions and have all of them leave your party at some point, and the only one who won't, is the "evil" one.
This is no longer just an opinion of mine. It is a fact, Minthara is canonically the most loyal companion. She will always stand by you no matter what you do, even if she hates the things you're doing.
#bg3#baldur's gate#minthara#minthara baenre#but it's more than just loyalty#she is devoted to you and your cause#her oath is literally to you and and she made it in your name#the moment you saved her from moonrise she already made up her mind about you#the gods abandoned her but you didnt#and so she will never abandon you#minthara is ride-or-die loyal to her core
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If you could pick a kissing animation for the bg3 companions what would you pick?
Do you mean pick kisses that aren't already in the game? Like if I was in charge of direction? I'm not good at this kind of thing at all, so hopefully this makes sense. 😅
Wyll would definitely dip kiss Tav, probably after dancing with them by a warm, crackling bonfire. It's easily the most princely and sophisticated type of kiss, and it matches his personality to a tee. He'd want Tav to feel like royalty, no matter where in the world they live. He'd also make them lift their leg up, making them feel weightless in his arms.
For Astarion, obviously neck kisses, but I think the best and most romantic move would be a surprise. He doesn't bite Tav. They'd expect it, because that's what he's always done in the past, but when his intentions stop being manipulative, he only wants to be gentle. He'd give Tav soft little nibbles that almost tickle, then work his way up to their lips; no blood drawn. An entirely new type of taste and sensation.
Gale needs to feel every inch of his partner, especially since he wants to please them. He's also a sensitive soul who wants to spend every waking hour holding the person he loves most. He'd embrace them as he kisses them, gently rocking them back and forth as he presses his lips into theirs. To him, there's nothing more magical than that.
Lae'zel's kisses would be a little possessive and violent, but only in a playful way. There would be a lot of lip biting and tongue, but after turning away from Vlaakith, it wouldn't be empty. It wouldn't be a "workout" anymore. She'd want to taste Tav's sweat and saliva, though she'd be careful not to cause them any pain. It's all about passion now.
Shadowheart would be an unorthodox kisser. If she's going to be romantic, she'd want it to be in the most unlikely places—like at the bottom of a moonlit lake. Each kiss would be ardent and meaningful, creating a new core memory she'd never want to forget. And she'd want to make a lot of those memories with her beloved Tav.
Karlach seems the type to pull Tav into a cute forehead kiss, only for it to become more sensual over time. She'd kiss Tav all over their face before turning it into a full massage, using her big muscles to work out all the knots in Tav's body. She's missed touching people, and she's going to make up for all that lost time, savouring every part of her lover's figure.
Halsin would be down for anything, anywhere, but he'd particularly enjoy kissing Tav on their wrist, taking in their scent and caressing their most tender areas. He'd want to taste the essence of nature on their skin, working up their arms before reaching their face. Then he'd gaze at them for a while, basking in their gods-given beauty, before finally pressing his lips into theirs.
Minthara takes what she wants when she wants it, because that's what Tav agreed to. When she's feeling frisky, she'd pin them against a wall and ram her mouth into theirs, sucking and gnawing on their lips. It would hurt a little, but pain is pleasure to drow, and Tav would give as good as they get. Make no mistake, their love for each other is insatiable, and Minthara will prove it.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale of waterdeep#gale dekarios#bg3 tav#astarion#karlach#wyll ravengard#shadowheart#lae'zel#halsin#minthara#kisses
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which bg3 companion do you think would be the worst school teacher?
let’s get it on the board:
10. Unquestionably Astarion. he has no patience, is extremely prickly, is always looking out for himself first, hates children, and is bad at planning. he would not want to be a teacher or attempt to do it unless convinced through some kind of elaborate network of trickery or excessive bribery. he’s just not built for it.
9. Minthara. I debated whether to put her or Astarion last because I think that he would be worse at the job but she would probably end up causing more harm. I know she is running fascist panopticon classroom management at all times. type of person to leave the blinds shut at all times so it’s like an evil cave classroom with occasional nasty fluorescents. no one likes it in there.
8. Shadowheart. I don’t have a ton to say here I just don’t think her heart is in it. 
7. Minsc. enthusiasm can get you very very far.
6. Karlach. very very sweet and everyone loves her but also kind of scattered and goes on one billion tangents. could actually convince adolescents to enjoy gym class. 
5. Halsin. I think he would be pretty good at it but I also think a job that requires you to commit to having a routine would be terrible for him so he definitely wouldn’t stick around
4. Lae’zel. Hear me out she is extremely brusque and not always great with people, but the way that she is so straightforward and honest about her intentions, her goals, and what she’s trying to do to get everyone there would earn her a lot of respect very quickly. The people love a good clear consistent routine.
3. Jaheira. wins the award for most gay kids eating in her room at lunch. easily. never has a lesson plan but somehow her kids are always doing the best out of everyone in the building. takes no shit.
2. Gale. D1 yapper just like me for real. canonically IS a teacher. sometimes get stuck on tangents or forgets that students do not want to sit and listen to lectures for as long as he does. me personally I don’t think threatening to blow yourself up would be effective classroom management but male teachers simply get away with five times as much as they should
1. Wyll. One of the highest compliments I can give to another human being is that they would be an excellent specifically middle school teacher and I really think Wyll has the personality for it. he is so patient and warm and kind to others and unwaveringly principled AND extremely self-sacrificing so you know that admin love him. no one knows how he does it.
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BG3 Kinktober 2024
Because I'm a perverted conduit that the void speaks through, I'm doing a Baldur's Gate 3 themed kinktober this year on here and AO3. As I publish the fics I'll be updating this list with links to them, and so y'all can gauge your interest here's the list!
Astarion (spawn) - roleplay - what's an innocent magistrate to do when his assistant propositions him when they're staying late at work?
Gale - pegging - growing bored of the wizard's endless accounts of how he and his goddess' bodies once intertwined, you notice there's one pleasure she never showed him.
Shadowheart - sensory depravation - life's greatest pleasures can be found in loss and darkness.
Lae'Zel - leather - peeling the leathers from your lover's body are one of the greatest rewards of battle.
Wyll - chastity - just because he wants to take things slow, doesn't mean you can't torment him a little.
Karlach - temperature play - attempts to cool her down end up having an interesting result.
Minthara - bondage - an interrogation goes south as you try to get to the bottom of the Absolute's cult.
Halsin - olfactophilia - after almost a tenday of not having time to bathe you head to the river, only be blocked off by a large elf.
Mizora - public - shrouded in the cloak of the hells atop a secluded pedestal, only to find it is in fact a stage.
Rolan - electro - someone's ego boost at getting a new tower has him coming out of his shell.
Zevlor - glory hole - the commander and the cleric need a release, things get interesting when the stranger behind the wall ends up being far too familiar.
Ikaron - semi-public - tensions are high in The Hollow, but you think you can help.
Raphael - naked platter - the devil has made a patisserie of you for his guests, though they seem to fade from existence as he grows distracted by the meal he's making of you.
Haarlep - size difference - the succubus is shocked that you want to see their true form, turns out they're a lot bigger than their master.
Rugan - impact play - the Zhentarim seeks to punish you for trying to skip out on your deal, he doesn't get very far.
Gortash - power play - your relationship has always been somewhat of a dance, one that you're determined to lead.
Dammon - edging - the forge's flames illuminate more than the smith realises, but you're happy to "help" once things quieten down.
The Emperor - hypnosis - the ilithid believes he can still get through to you, with one last attempt.
Aradin - hate fuck - your competitor, the thorn in your side, but damn if he doesn't have good stamina.
Abdirak - sado-masochism - two priests of Loviatar aid in each other's prayer.
He Who Was - free use - his ability to travel the shadowcursed lands unhindered has him popping up everywhere, making you pay for his insatiable desires.
Lia - wax play - after the first few drops, it's hard to tell what's blush and what's burn among the giggles in the Elfsong.
Cal - play fighting - a little extra training won't do any harm, though the proximity may prove... challenging.
Gale - findom - what starts as a simple shopping trip to Sorcerous Sundries takes a turn as you drag the wizard to more and more shops.
Astarion (ascended) - biting/marking - your last night as a mortal will be one to remember.
Shadowheart - human furniture - god's favourite princess needs a throne.
Wyll - roleplay - the son of a duke has a duty to mingle at these important events, though it usually shouldn't lead him to a cupboard with a handsome stranger.
Lae'Zel - predator/prey - your heart races, your breathing to quick to catch, and you know the more you sweat the easier it'll be for her to catch you.
Karlach - human ashtray - she's been making fun of you all evening for your drunken confession about her cigars, but once the other's go to bed she's happy to indulge you on the Elfsong's roof garden.
Halsin - breeding - ever the beast of nature, with your perils finally at an end he lets himself run loose with you and you realise it’s going to be a long night until he’s done filling you.
Minthara - body worship - the drow isn't keen onbeing nursed after but with injuries so severe you need to make sure she's alright.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#ao3#raphael bg3#haarlep#astarion#gale dekarios#karlach#minthara#wyll#halsin#shadowheart#laezel#mizora#rolan#zevlor#ikaron#bg3 rugan#enver gortash#dammon#the emperor bg3#aradin#abdirak#he who was#lia bg3#cal bg3#bg3 kinktober#kinktober 2024#kinktober
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More very random head cannons. -SFW—NSWF-
Characters mentioned: Astarion, Gale, shadowheart, laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Minthara and Halsin +1
Content warning: hair pulling, oral f/recieving & m/recieving, knife play, size kink, predator/ pray kink.
Word count: 3.2k
Astarion
-SFW-
- He has a very gravelly voice in the morning that lasts around 25 minutes.
- He absolutely loves cats. And later you end up moving to the underdark, you both adopt a cat that is able to travel alone to get the things that they need. He sees it as your baby and treats it as such.
- He is the person you go to if you want any gossip. When you both get to the underdark I could see him becoming a bartender or something like that. Where he can swindle people of their money while having fun doing it.
- He can cook. Contrary to him not eating normal food anymore he was once human. But he will look over cookbooks for a while if you tell him that you would like to try his cooking.
- He dislikes flowers, of course he thinks that they are beautiful but they do not live long. He gets sad because he links that thought to losing you. So he tries to keep those thoughts away from him.
- He absolutely loves shoes, he can rant and rave about them, when everyone was in camp he would like to go up to gale the most. He really liked his shoes, even going as far as stealing them. Only to have a grumpy gale walking through camp with his arms crossed pushing Astarion over and taking his shoes back.
- Astarion has to clean himself in his bat form as well as his normal form. So he takes extra long in the shower. But he gets so fluffy!
- He starts seeing a therapist after everything is settled in the underdark.
- He loves to give forehead kisses.
- Astarion loves to be called beautiful!! Call him beautiful often!!!!!
- When you ask him what his natural eye color is he thinks about it for a while getting back to you telling you that they were a steel blue.
- He does not have many things, but he wants to some day. So without him noticing you slowly start to give him little things here and there. Like an extra bedroll that you had, a blanket. Some new pillows, candles, anything that you can find that you think he would like to make him more comfortable.
- He loves horror movie nights!!!!!!!!!
-NSFW-
Ascension ver.
- When he is ascended he does not care as much if you get off first.
- He would be a lot more rough, biting much more feverishly and more often.
- He would give you head, but he would not do it for long.
- He knows exactly how good you are feeling, but will make you tell him.
- He is the dominant one.
- He will take up multiple partners as he expects you to do the same. He would go out of his way to ask if you would want to add another partner into your nightly activities.
- His sex drive would increase greatly.
- He sets a brutal pace.
- He likes to tease.
- He would not fall asleep after doing it, but he would ask you about what you liked and how he did.
- He lets you rest your head on his lap to fall asleep after.
Gale
-SFW-
- Man can sing. But mostly does it when he is bathing or concentrating. Quite interesting to hear for the first time when you are in battle together. Singing in a tired gravely voice before shooting off another spell.
- He tried to convince Tara to let him dress her up in a cute little outfit one time. He left around 30 minutes later covered in scratches. That is to say he does not make those comments anymore.
- He likes painting from memory, yes he can control the weave but he would like to have some sort of proof if there was ever a day when he could no longer handle the weave any longer.
- When coming back from a particularly hard day, if you massage his shoulders a bit he will melt into a puddle and fall asleep.
- His favorite juice is apple juice.
- Always likes books more than movies. Does not matter if it is actually a good movie.
- He keeps photos of you on hand so he can show his students. And they know so much about you and he wants to ask if you would visit his class to shed some light on recent events. Totally not an excuse for him to see you more.
- He likes his food hot, even his salads. All food needs to be hot.
- Loves silver jewelry, his wedding ring is silver with purple stones embedded into the ring. You have the matching version obviously but it is a wide band with white and purple stones honored on the ring.
-NSFW-
- He is into pulling hair, if things are getting a bit more rough. You are sitting on his lap. Getting into a very heated makeout session, in a heated kiss his hand snakes up onto the back of your head, seating itself into your hair. The other hand softly rocking you back and forth. He breaks away from the kiss. “You are quite breathtaking my love.” He says through slightly labored breaths, he grips and gently pulls on the hair at the back of your head. Swiftly latching his lips onto your neck.
- He does like when there is a bit of lightheartedness while making love, but it is serious so he will always go back to being more serious.
- He likes to lay in the sun after finishing, watching as you also bask in the light, he thinks it makes you look ethereal.
- He would go at a moderate pace, and would not have very good rhythm when he first starts.
- He thinks it is a bit romantic to have music playing while enjoying eachothers company. So there will be soft piano playing in the background.
- He definitely uses magic, mage hand would come in handy, being able to bind your hands for a little rougher session.
- He does not own any toys, but would be okay with owning some if it helped you get off better. He would end up enjoying it immensely.
- Public sex is something that he could be talked into. As long as it is somewhere where less people are. But there is still the thrill of possibly being caught.
- He masterbates from time to time, it is not often. But if you are not around and he is fully alone then he would enjoy himself.
- His stamina is not very high, but he can fully please you and a little more if he is asked.
Lae’zel
-SFW-
- She would keep a collection of rusted or busted knives to fix while at camp. It helps her calm down plus it gives her something to look forward to.
- She would eat dinner at either 5 pm or 10 pm no in between.
- Talks to herself all the time. Saying she is the best therapist she knows.
- Her favorite color is Silver.
- She likes to read before she goes to bed.
- She also likes to sit on a high point at the camp to look at the stars.
- She would be an astrology girl. And would believe it completely.
-NSFW-
- She is the top.
- She is a biter, lightly gliding her teeth across your skin. She loves to feel you shiver from the touch she is giving you.
- She is not loud, and does not want you to be loud either.
- She would be 100% serious in bed. No laughing, no jokes.
- She has a moderate sex drive.
- She is a C cup.
- She would not fall asleep directly after having sex. She would wait until you fell asleep before she would sleep.
- She would have a small collection of toys that she would bring into your sex life.
- She has a lot of stamina, she would want to go more than one round if you are up for it.
Wyll
-SFW-
- He liked bugs when he was a kid.
- He really likes spicy food, and will go out with Karlach to find it.
- Has a very big sweet tooth, and loves to share it with everyone in camp. He has a whole pocket in his pack dedicated to sweets. Giving them away to children you may meet. It makes him feel extra happy if there is a group that he can give it to. But he has a special place for candy that you specifically like, which he gives to you when you feel down.
- He loves Halsin, and goes to him for advice about his father.
-NSFW-
- He loves sensual romantic sex.
- He could get off to kissing. You don’t even have to fully have sex to get him all riled up.
- Man is cheesy, he will set this up when you are living together. Setting out roses leading from the front door to your bedroom. When you walk into the bedroom it is enveloped in a warm soft glow of candlelight dancing over the horned man laying across your bed that is also covered in flower petals in the shape of a heart. “Welcome home my sweet.” He would say in a sultry voice, getting off the bed to meet you. Taking a rose off the table and handing it to you.
- He would be really good at praising you.
- “Tell me how good I make you feel.”
- He is not very experienced, but that is okay, he is very willing to learn.
- He likes things to be more serious in the bedroom, but a soft giggle or smile would not go missed.
- He would have a slow pace, he would want to take his time and enjoy every moment.
Shadowheart
-SFW-
- She loves yoga. And will do it every chance that she has downtime to do it. But it is mostly just her stretching.
- She would be a Hello kitty girl, and would own so many of the stuffed animals.
- She hates classical and post- disco music. But would love R&B and jazz music. Shadow heart in the garden with soft music playing in the background. She hums along while you are on the opposite side of the garden. This was an activity that you both loved to do. She would be dressed comfortably in a shin length skirt that was covered in loose soil. She turned the music on a little louder, swaying from side to side as you both worked together, sharing in kisses here and there. It was quite an eventful afternoon.
- she hates orange juice. Like genuinely hates it and will get upset if you give it to her.
- Likes a good cup of tea. With very little sugar. But if she were to have coffee she would want a lot of sugar but no cream.
- She wants a flower garden.
- She would end up being a plant girlie.
-NSFW-
-She is somewhat experienced. Having done it with a handful of people at most.
- She would get her nipples pierced. I think it would make her even more confident than she already is.
- She is very confident in bed, she is fully okay with taking charge or letting you take control.
- She would try almost anything once. Outside of things that would hurt her too bad.
- When you are in the comforts of your own home she is really into bondage. Being bound really excites her.
- She is serious while doing it, you can laugh during it. But she does want it to be a more serious moment shared between the two of you.
- She would prefer a faster pace, it would drive her wild.
-She is a B cup.
Karlach
-SFW-
- She gets very protective of scratch, he lays near her when going to sleep for a very long time.
- She loves going swimming since it cools her down. But will refuse anyone to go with her since the water around her would get way too hot. And possibly boil anyone going in there with her. But that is in fact how she has gotten you dinner before. When everyone was literally starving and going off wine and grape soup for the 4th day in a row. Karlach brings back fish. And sets them on the table. She announced that we will be having something different for dinner than the normal everyone was so excited that they forgot to ask. Later on that night she told everyone. And was met with a still silence. Before someone cleared their throat and everyone went right back to conversation.
- She would drink a lot of water to try and cool herself down.
- Her favorite color is Blue.
- She likes doing yoga to stay limber.
- She smells like Vanilla and Amber.
-NSFW-
- She is the top, no questions asked.
- She would have nipple piercings if she could. But her heat would have them melting to her skin. So she just settles for real and natural.
- She is not very experienced. Since she was always fighting for others she never got to find much pleasures of the flesh. But don’t worry she is a quick learner.
- She would definitely be goofy in bed, joking here and there. But does know when to be more serious.
- She would enjoy slow and steady pace, she would also enjoy taking her time. But also loves a brutal pace from time to time.
- She is a D cup
Minthara
-SFW-
- She would jump out and scare children if she could.
- I feel like she eats the crust first on pizza.
- Despises ranch.
- She ends up wearing glasses later in life.
- She would only eat while standing.
- She likes red wine, and will always ask if you would like to join her in a drink.
- She becomes softer and a bit nicer when you start to get close to her.
- She could fall asleep standing up. She is also a really light sleeper.
-NSFW-
- Scary in a hot way.
- She would be into knife play. Holding a knife to yours not the other way around.
- Top.
Her favorite part of her partner's body would be the neck. Thinking that it could be the quickest way to kill you in case you threaten her. But also that it is so sensitive and gives wonderful responses when kissed.
- Gives absolutely amazing head.
- She likes the predator prey dynamic, finding it quite thrilling to chase before taking what is hers.
- loves to see you in skirts (if you wear them) Or really tight fitting pants. And will tell you all about it in confidence later.
- She is quiet, she does not moan too much.
- She is very experienced, she has enjoyed many pleasures of the flesh. And is ready and willing to show you everything she has learned.
- She is very serious during the deed, there would be no laughing.
- Brutal pace or nothing. She wants to go hard and fast bringing herself and you to a high quickly before doing it again.
- She is a D cup.
Halsin
-SFW-
- He walks around barefoot. You question how his feet are still intact from all the rough places that you have traveled together.
- He literally sleeps on the ground for more than half of the time he is in your camp. I think he just didn’t know how to bring up that he didn’t have a bed roll and just waited till he could buy one. He will never tell you that though.
- He cannot handle spicy food in the slightest.
Likes plum juice, and would drink it all the time if he could.
- He has joint pain, so he sits on the ground to relieve a bit of the pain and stress off them. He will often ask if you would like to join him for a walk. When you say yes you both walk together for a few minutes before he sits on a rock in the woods. You sit down next to him and continue your conversation. For a long while. You knew why you had stopped, This had become a favorite spot to stop for him while you are in this area. Before he got up and continued walking. He would give you a soft warm smile as you walked holding hands.
- He will carve you small gifts and sneak them into your pack as long as you have the room.
- he would partake in the grass. But would be away from anyone else so they are not bothered by him.
- He likes fruit and vegetables over meat.
-NSFW-
- He is quite fluid, anything you want to do or try he would be down to do it.
- He loves when you kiss his neck, the tenderness will make him melt.
- His ideal place to do it is in a field of flowers, or a forest area where there is a soft patch of moss.
- He likes to bite, gently of course. But he gives soft nips and bites any part of their body. Loves leaving hickeys.
- We all know this man is experienced, he is ready and willing to give you all of that experience.
- He can be goofy during, he likes when things are lighthearted but sensual.
- Animalistic pace, or soft and sensual no inbetween.
- High sex drive.
- He only masterbates when he has not gotten action in a long time. But would find a very secluded area to do so.
- It takes him a long time before he falls asleep after. But when he does he sleeps like a rock.
- he thinks you being smaller than him is very hot. Definitely has a size kink.
A little extra…
Rolan
-SFW-
- He thinks it is funny when people try to cast magic and it fails.
- He ends up taking on an apprentice.
- When he has down time he would read all the books that were in the tower.
- When he would go back to his tower after the events of the game he would be sad seeing many of the books, but went in to look for survivors that may have been inside.
- He was a spoiled child, but he grew out of the spoiled attitude.
- He is only sweet in private.
- He would not be into PDA. But does kiss you when no one is looking.
- He wants to be able to teach people magic. But, would treat them all wonderfully. He would be a great teacher.
- He would smell like cedar and old books.
- When he blushes the blush spreads over his face and up to his ears.
-NSFW-
- His favorite part of his partner's body would be their hands.
- He thinks that it is so hot to cum on your face and chest. The thought alone would make him cream his pants.
- He is not experienced. He has not been able to experiment while on his travels.
- He is loud, his moans can be heard from a fair distance away.
- He loves to degrade.
- Power bottom on a good day. Bottom.
- He can get really shy when asking for alone time.
- He loves when you take charge and tell him what to do.
- He has moderate stamina. But will only want to go for one round.
- He will fall asleep soon after finishing the deed.
————————————————————————
I'm sorry for any of them being shorter than others. I have not been able to do all of their story lines yet. I am slowly working towards finishing them all. So if any of my head cannons are very off from the characters I am very sorry! Thank you!!
#bg3#bg3 gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#shadowheart#baldurs gate gale#bg3 shadowheart#gale smut#shadowheart bg3#shadowheart smut#bg3 headcanons#bg3 rolan#bg3 rolan smut#karlach#lae'zel#halsin#halsin smut#wyll ravengard#bg3 astarion#astarion smut#astarion#minthara#minthara smut#minthara bg3
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i’m not here to claim that wyll doesn’t deserve more extra content or that larian’s perspective of him isn’t rooted in racism in any way whatsoever. however, i sincerely believe that it’s always important to list the facts first before misinformation continues to spread which only results in more needless outrage.
these are all of wyll’s scenes that exist in the game as of now:
meeting karlach, mizora, and his transformation, the tiefling party kiss, the dance scene, mizora visiting camp, another scene where mizora visits camp, and the proposal scene. additionally, mizora and uldred can join camp, if he is alive.
in strict comparison - this is the exact amount of scenes the other origin characters have:
Astarion has 9 scenes, 6 of which can possibly be romantic.
Lae’zel has 7 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.
Shadowheart has 6 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.
Gale has 6 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.
Karlach has 4 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.
Wyll has 5 non-standard dialogue scenes, 2 of which can possibly be romantic.
source: [x]
wyll is lacking one scene compared to characters like shadowheart and gale. lae’zel merely has another non-standard dialogue scene, while astarion has double the amount of possible romance scenes and 9 scenes in total.
here is a video of wyll’s entire story: [x] at a duration of 2:25:24 in total it’s very similar in length to the romances of the other companions the same channel uploaded. (minthara & halsin excluded)
i have also seen many people refer to the datamined voicelines as proof of how much content wyll lacks. this, however, doesn’t tell us much since those compilations include battle grunts, noises, and other repeated lines. if you want to check them out for yourself, here is chubblot’s playlist on youtube: [x]
wyll’s romance/approval-specific greetings also exist, they are merely bugged. although i have heard that some people have been able to trigger them. bugged content is something that also affects other companions – in fact, most of gale’s romance scenes and some integral dialogue have been bugged for months now with no fixes anywhere in sight. if you don’t want to look for wyll’s greetings in the files, i took the liberty of doing it for you:
alas, his general reactivity after act i remains the same as with the others. aka: he's barely responsive to his surroundings nor to any key decisions the player makes.
wyll also isn’t the only character who isn’t able to make his own choice on whether he agrees to sell his soul for his father’s life or not. in fact, the only characters who can decide their own fate are shadowheart and lae’zel. the latter option only now being added with patch 6.
so what exactly did wyll get after patch 6? the same amount of kisses like everyone else: 4 in total. as well as some new idle animations and polished facial expressions. the kiss where he invites tav for a quick twirl had already been added in an earlier update (patch 5, 30th november 2023). which means it’s understandable that certain characters who didn’t receive any new animations or other content before were now added with patch 6 as well.
wyll’s quest regarding ansur also didn’t get removed from the game. this is plain false. larian merely changed the subcategory in the journal (which larian had done previously with astarion’s gur-related quest as well)
if you have a gripe with this particular decision: that is valid. the quest, however, is still the exact same as it was before.
i see fandom heading in this really dangerous direction where people fully believe they have the right to attack others for pointing out the existence of false information. i understand that people are upset about wyll having less content than characters like astarion and i am in no way here to claim that you should refrain from calling out racism where it’s due. however, this hostile behavior directed at anyone who dares to disagree with you is creating a really toxic environment within online spaces, where people hesitate to engage with the wyll side of the fandom at all (out of fear of immediately receiving the racist card for merely correcting inconsistencies in logic). and in case it needs to be said again: it is never justified to harass real people or send death threats to others under any circumstances, much less if it concerns a fictional character.
i, much like everyone, really want wyll to receive more love from fandom and larian alike. but it is no one’s place to police other players on how they should engage with this specific character in their own game. if others simply couldn’t connect to wyll as much as you personally have – for whatever reason – that is on them. it's them who are missing out. this shouldn’t hinder your enjoyment of this character in any way or discourage you from creating more fan content.
TL;DR: it’s completely valid to request more wyll content, but please don’t resort to “demands” or public pressure directed at the devs. this is only doing more harm in the long run (to wyll’s, as well as his fanbase's reputation within the rest of the fandom instead of actually accomplishing much). don’t spread misinformation that he’s the only one of the companions who is continuously receiving the short end of the stick in terms of content, general reactivity, and bug fixes. if anything, the biggest difference is between him and astarion (again, much like every other companion).
🙏 please be respectful to each other 🙏
update, 19th february:
a user suggested providing an alternative to petitions on this post and linking directly to larian’s official feedback form, which you can find here: [x]
you’ll be able to add screenshots of the specific issue you’re reporting. keep in mind that you need to name your exact game version if you plan to send in a report. i’ve had larian ask me to send them the specific game files in the past, so it’s best to keep them on hand in advance.
larian also has a faq page on how to submit a general bug report [x]
here is an example of what to write:
(I’d like to address the disparity in content between Wyll and the other origin companions.) As of now, Wyll is lacking an entire scene compared to the rest of the characters, and his romance-specific greetings remain bugged as well. The lack of equal scenes makes Wyll’s story feel lackluster at times and undermines the pacing of his romance and overall character arc. It is very disheartening for POC players specifically to see racial biases reflected in his treatment and that Wyll didn’t receive the same amount of resources. Considering his narrative role as the Grand Duke's son he also deserves to be in the spotlight. When can we expect any fixes or additional content?
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#wyll ravengard#informational post#racism mention#fandom discourse#it speaks#i understand that i’m treading into dangerous territory here#but please keep it civil#meanwhile minthara lovers sitting in the corner with barely any scraps to go by: this is fine#updated
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ranking baldur's gate characters by how i think they smell
#9) Minthara. Because she’s a corpse, next question.
#8) Lae'zel. You know this woman has never bathed. Washing is for the weak, is'tik. She says this is because needs her musk to attract mates but mostly it's cuz Gith education doesn't exactly make time for personal hygiene. Once it got so bad that Tav dragged the whole party through a chest-deep stream and stood there for 20 minutes to take a "breather" while Laezel stared daggers at them the whole time.
#7) Karlach. I want Karlach to smell nice so badly, and Karlach probably wants Karlach to smell nice too, but you know this woman smells like brimstone and engine exhaust and sweat. On good days she smells like the fine char you get on burgers on a summer day. On bad days she smells like a truck stop at peak hours, and the truck stop is also on fire. She's not happy about this either.
#6) Gale. Gale tries to keep himself groomed, he really does. But he looks like he is perpetually just a tiny bit smelly. Like he hyperfocused on a book slightly too hard for slightly too long and as a result he forgot to shower for a week. He acts like he bedded Mystra because of his towering intellect but really it's cuz gods don't have human senses of smell. His nightshirt looks velvet, too, and you KNOW it can't be easy to get smells out of that shit without a washer. He is one of those poor guys who is cursed to always stink a little bit no matter how much he showers. When Tav confronts him about this he decides, on the spot, that deodorant is for anti-intellectuals, actually, which he wouldn't have expected Tav to know but it's okay, we can't all be enlightened.
#5) Minsc. He doesn't reek exactly, but you know he's 100% man musk, hamster bedding, and butt-kicking
Tied for #5) Jaheira. You know 100 years of living in forests and adventuring with Minsc has endowed her with exactly the same level of manly perfume as Minsc (except with notes of cedarwood).
#4) Wyll. He used to be the best-smelling until Mizora pulled him through every level of hell in rapid succession, and now he smells a little bit like brimstone all the time. He sometimes rubs fragrant herbs on his horns to counteract it, which doesn't get rid of the smell, really, but it gives his smell an interesting dimension. Otherwise, he has enough experience with adventuring, and is well-bred enough, that him and his things are usually well-groomed (and also because his dad was a freak about it).
#3) Shadowheart. This woman puts on tragic makeup every morning and changes her hair to reflect her religion. Appearances are EVERYTHING (especially when it comes to keeping secrets). Shadowheart smells exactly like she thinks she needs to smell to be religiously pleasing to her goddess and/or coMplEtE thE mIsSioN. She does get anxious sweats though, which are very distinctive if it's been a long day of adventuring. She never admits this, though. Ever.
#2) Astarion. Okay, so, sometimes, he smells just the teensiest, tiniest bit like dried blood. But mostly, he smells like baby powder and potpourri. It is a waste of good fashion sense and his pretty face to go about stinking like a beggar. (He does go through a brief 'Cazador can't tell ME what to do' phase where he stops bathing for a day, but he grosses himself out so much that he resumes his normal routime before anyone notices.)
#1) Halsin. You'd expect him to stink, with his whole smelly-hippy free-love vibe, but nah. The man smells heavenly. He spends all his time frolicking through fragrant herbs and lounging in scented hot springs with whomever strikes his fancy. He probably has a whole ass medicine cabinet full of stuff he uses to freshen up. His breath probably smells like mint and his hair like cedar. He probably puts coconut oil or smth in his hair. He knows how to smell good as literally any animal in the realms. Wanna know why? Dogs have a sense of smell several thousand times better than people. I bet bears do, too. You do Not Fuck As A Bear without understanding not only how to WASH your ass, but also perfume it. Halsin also knows: thou shalt not give yeast infections. And if you got bear dick, that means HYGIENE. It's a point of pride for him, actually.
BONUS: WITHERS. Withers smells like nothing. Like, freakishly, unsettlingly like nothing. Like, you expect him to smell like dust or pitch or smth. Nope. He's a black hole of smell. You come near him and if you ask, he resets your entire hygiene routine for 100 gold and leaves you smelling like roses.
#Baldurs gate 3#Bg3#Baldurs gate#Lae'zel#Karlach#Shadowheart#Halsin#Wyll#Gale#Astarion#bg3 spoilers#bg3 memes#bg3 minsc#jaheira
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You're dark bg3 stuff is amazing, what do you think about the reader getting sick and them ever over reacting or not reacting
Separate idea: Them dressing up with reader like a doll not a person showing how they think about them.
Okay okay, so I did a mix of injured reader and ill reader, feel free to send in the separate idea as an additional request !
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Dark!BG3 | Help (Please don't) !
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For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin
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CW: Controlling, manipulation, murder, arson, coercion, forced memory loss, illness, injury,
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Whether out of defiance or out of poor luck, you are in need of healing, how do they react to this?
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Conqueror Minthara:
The injury happened quickly, too quickly for you to react. In the chaos of the skirmish, a blade had sliced across your side, leaving a deep, ragged gash. You had snuck out of the House and landed yourself in some trouble. You knew Minthara would be furious if she found out, so you did the only thing you could think of: you hid it.
Back in your quarters, you bandaged the wound as best as you could, gritting your teeth against the searing pain. You knew it wasn't enough, but you hoped it would hold until the bleeding stopped. You went about your restricted duties, ignoring the throbbing pain in your side. As the day went on, however, the wound worsened, the edges growing inflamed and hot to the touch. You moved stiffly, every step a reminder of the injury you were concealing.
Minthara was perceptive, always watching, always aware. So it was only a matter of time before she noticed.
As you were preparing for bed, she entered your shared room. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on the blood seeping through your bandages and staining your clothes. Her expression turned from curiosity to fury in an instant.
“What is this?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “Why did you not tell me?”
You tried to straighten up, to look composed, but the pain was too much. “It’s nothing. I can handle it.”
Minthara crossed the room in a flash, her eyes blazing with anger and something else—something that looked dangerously like panic. She grabbed your arm, forcing you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Clearly, you cannot,” she hissed, tearing the bandage away with a swift, angry motion. The sight of the infected wound made her pale. “Why did you hide this from me?”
“I didn’t want your help,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Minthara’s eyes softened for a brief moment, a flicker of something almost tender passing through them. She barked orders to the servants to bring hot water and clean cloths, her hands never leaving your arm.
“Minthara, I’m fine,” you tried again, but she silenced you with a glare that could have melted stone.
“Do not speak,” she commanded, her voice cold and unyielding. “You will only make it worse.”
The servants arrived quickly, setting down the supplies before hastily retreating from the room. Minthara’s fingers were surprisingly gentle as she cleaned the wound, her touch precise despite the anger simmering in her eyes. She applied a healing salve, the warmth of the magic easing the pain slightly.
“Y/N, really, why did you not tell me?” she asked again, her voice quieter now but no less insistent.
“I didn’t want to be a burden,” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t want you to see me as weak.”
“You are mine,” she said quietly, her eyes locking onto yours. “Your pain, your wounds—they are my concern. Do not hide anything from me again.”
“I can take care of myself,” you insisted, a weak attempt at retaining some form of independence. “I don’t need you to—”
“Enough,” she interrupted, her voice brooking no argument. “You are not in a position to argue.”
She helped you lie down, her hands lingering on your skin as she pulled the covers over you. You tried to resist, to show that you were still strong, still independent, but the pain and exhaustion were too much. You sank back into the pillows, your body trembling with the effort.
“Rest now,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against your cheek. “You need to heal, and I will ensure that you do.”
She sat by your side, her hand resting lightly on your arm. Her presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the power she held over you. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of safety in her presence. Minthara’s fierce protectiveness was a double-edged sword, but for now, it was a comfort you were willing to accept.
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Mother Superior Shadowheart:
Falling ill in the shadowy sanctum of Shadowheart's temple was an unexpected and grueling ordeal. The illness had come on suddenly, a vicious fever that left you weak and disoriented. Shadowheart, usually composed and stoic, transformed into a flurry of anxious care and vigilant oversight, treating you as if you were a fragile, precious doll.
Her concern was overwhelming. She scarcely left your side, tending to your every need with meticulous care, administering potions and checking your temperature frequently. Her eyes, usually cold and calculating, were filled with a mixture of fear and determination.
One evening, feeling a fleeting burst of strength, you decided to leave your bed. The air in the room felt stifling, and you yearned for the cool breeze of the temple gardens. You managed to slip out of bed, your legs trembling with the effort, and slowly made your way towards the door.
You had barely reached the threshold when you heard Shadowheart's voice, sharp and filled with a mixture of relief and anger. "What do you think you are doing out of bed?"
Before you could respond, she was at your side, her grip firm but not painful as she took your arm and began to guide you back to your quarters.
"You need to rest," she scolded, her voice low and intense. "You are far too weak to be wandering around."
As she practically dragged you back to your bed, she continued her lecture. "Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? You could have collapsed, or worse! The fever could have spiked again, and I might not have been there in time to help you."
You tried to protest, to explain that you just needed a bit of fresh air, but she cut you off, her eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness. "No. You are to stay in bed until you are fully recovered. I cannot lose you. Do you understand?"
Her words were both a command and a plea. You nodded, feeling the weight of her worry and care pressing down on you. As she helped you back into bed, her touch was gentle, but her eyes were filled with a steely resolve. Shadowheart sat beside you, her hand resting on your forehead to check for any signs of fever.
"I am doing this for your own good," she said softly, her voice a mixture of exasperation and tenderness. "You mean too much to me to take any risks with your health."
You sighed, realizing that any resistance would be futile. "I understand," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Satisfied, she nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Good. Now rest. I'll be right here if you need anything."
As you lay back, exhaustion overtaking you once more, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Shadowheart's protectiveness was suffocating, yet her care was undeniable. Despite her strictness, there was a deep affection in her actions, a need to keep you safe at all costs.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to relax, the comfort of her presence soothing the lingering anxiety. Shadowheart remained by your side, her vigilant watch never faltering, determined to see you through this illness and ensure your recovery.
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God of Ambition Gale:
Gale's realm, an ethereal expanse of arcane wonders and mystical beauty, had become a gilded cage. After days of being chained to his godly throne, you were finally released, left to wander the opulent halls while he attended to some mortal matters. Boredom gnawed at you as you meandered through the labyrinthine corridors, the silence broken only by the distant hum of magical energies.
Your exploration led you to a dimly lit chamber filled with ancient artifacts and relics. Curious, you began to examine them, marveling at the power and history they held. One object, in particular, caught your eye—a small, intricately designed amulet pulsating with a faint, eerie glow. Drawn to its strange allure, you picked it up, feeling a sudden jolt of energy course through you.
Almost immediately, you knew something was wrong. The amulet's energy began to leech into you, draining your power and leaving you feeling weak and disoriented. Panic set in as your vision blurred, your legs giving way beneath you. You collapsed to the floor, the amulet still clutched in your hand, its malevolent power sapping your strength.
As darkness closed in, you heard Gale’s voice, a mixture of shock and fury, echoing through the chamber. You tried to call out to him, but the words died in your throat as unconsciousness claimed you.
When you finally woke, you found yourself in your ethereal bed, the soft, shimmering sheets cool against your skin. Gale was beside you, his expression one of intense concentration and worry as he tended to you with meticulous care. His hands moved with practiced precision, channeling restorative magic into your weakened body.
"You scared me," Gale admitted, his voice a low murmur. "Although you couldn't die, you would have been imprisoned in that cursed object. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
You managed a weak smile, the familiar tenderness in his eyes reminding you of the mortal Gale you had once known. It made him more bearable, a fleeting glimpse of the man he used to be.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "It’s good to see you care."
He looked at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You are precious to me, more than you know. Losing you would have been unbearable."
For a moment, the godly arrogance faded, replaced by genuine concern and affection. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, his expression hardened once more.
"I never should have let you out of the chains," he said, his tone now cold and commanding. "Clearly, you cannot be trusted on your own."
The warmth you had seen in his eyes vanished, replaced by the cold, calculating gaze of a god. The fleeting moment of vulnerability was gone, and you realized that the Gale you had once known was buried deep beneath layers of power and control.
You nodded, feeling a pang of sadness. These glimpses of the man he used to be were all you had left, and you would have to savor them whenever they appeared.
As he continued to tend to you, you closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his magic wash over you. For now, you would accept his care, knowing that the moments of tenderness, however rare, were a precious reminder of the love that had once existed between you.
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Ascended Astarion:
Finding yourself alone for the first time in weeks, you eagerly seized the opportunity to venture into the city. The palace, with its grandiose rooms and oppressive atmosphere, had begun to feel like a gilded cage. You longed for a taste of freedom, a moment to reconnect with the world outside Astarion's watchful gaze. Disguised in a cloak and moving through the busy streets, you enjoyed the anonymity that the city offered, if only for a short while.
However, the city held dangers you hadn't anticipated. You had barely turned down a quiet alley when a figure emerged from the shadows. A member of the Gur, a survivor of the massacre Astarion had orchestrated, stood before you. His eyes were filled with a burning hatred, and before you could react, he lunged, driving a wooden stake towards you. It was intended for your heart but in your surprise you had managed to twist away, but the stake drove into your leg instead. The pain was immediate and excruciating, and you collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath.
"You'll pay for what he did," the Gur spat, his voice trembling with rage. "All of you will."
Summoning every ounce of strength, you managed to fend him off just enough to escape. Bleeding and limping, you made your way back to the palace, each step a searing agony. When you finally stumbled through the grand doors, you were barely conscious, the loss of blood and pain clouding your vision.
Astarion was immediately at your side, his usual composed demeanor shattered by the sight of you.
"What happened?" he demanded, his voice a mix of fury and panic.
You could barely speak, each breath a struggle. "Gur… attacked me," you managed to gasp.
Astarion face contorted in fury and quickly scooped you up in his arms and carried you to a nearby chaise. He crouched and inspected the wooden stake.
" Y'know...this wouldn't… be a problem if… if you made me a true vampire… like you promised." You managed to get out, your leg throbbing in agony. Astarion's eyes flashed with anger, and he let out a low, frustrated growl.
"Not this again," he snapped. "I don't have time for your petty complaints."
Before you could argue further, Astarion raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Instantly, darkness engulfed you as you lost consciousness.
When you awoke, you were back in the opulent bedroom you shared with Astarion, lying on the soft bed. The stake was gone, and the wound in your leg had been meticulously cleaned and bandaged. Astarion sat beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched you stir.
"You're awake," he said quietly, his tone lacking its usual sharpness. "Good. I was beginning to worry."
You tried to sit up, but Astarion gently pushed you back down. "Don't move. The wound is still healing."
"You knocked me out," you said, the accusation clear in your voice.
Astarion sighed, a flicker of regret crossing his features. "I had to. You were manic, and I needed to get the stake out without causing more damage."
"Maybe I wouldn't be so 'manic' if you kept your promises," you retorted, your voice weak but defiant.
Astarion's eyes darkened, and he looked away. "I will make you a true vampire, but you must trust me. Everything in its time."
You wanted to argue, to demand more, but the exhaustion and pain were overwhelming. Instead, you closed your eyes, letting out a frustrated sigh. Astarion's hand rested on yours, a rare gesture of genuine comfort.
"Rest now," he said softly. "You're safe here. I'll ensure nothing like this happens again."
Despite your anger and frustration, you couldn't deny the relief of being back in the palace, away from the dangers of the city. As you drifted back into a fitful sleep, you wondered if you would ever truly be free of Astarion's control or if you were forever destined to be his dark consort, caught in a web of promises and power.
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Naturist Halsin:
The allure of the forbidden part of the forest was too strong to resist. Despite Halsin’s stern warnings about the dangers lurking within, you couldn't help but venture into its depths, driven by curiosity and a need to prove your independence. The trees grew denser, their branches interwoven like a living labyrinth, and an eerie silence pervaded the air.
You were careful at first, stepping lightly and avoiding any obvious dangers. But your caution wasn't enough. As you pushed past a particularly dense thicket, you felt a sharp sting on your hand. Looking down, you saw a deep scratch from a thorn-covered vine, the flesh around the wound already starting to swell and turn an angry red. Panic set in as the pain intensified, and you knew immediately that the thorn was poisonous.
Reluctant to face Halsin's inevitable scolding, you stumbled back to the grove, clutching your throbbing hand. Desperation drove you to his work area, where you began to tear through his meticulously organized supplies, searching for an antidote or anti-toxin. Herbs and vials clattered to the ground, your movements growing more frantic with each passing second.
"What do you think you're doing?" Halsin's voice, calm but laced with amusement, startled you. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in a mixture of curiosity and mild irritation.
You quickly hid your injured hand behind your back, trying to compose yourself. "Nothing, just… looking for something."
Halsin's eyes narrowed as he took in the mess you'd made. "Is that so? Show me your hand."
You shook your head, backing away slightly. "It's nothing, really."
He sighed, his patience clearly wearing thin. "You can't fool me. Show me your hand, now."
You tried to make a break for it, but Halsin was quicker. With a firm grip, he pulled your hand from behind your back, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the inflamed wound.
"I warned you about that part of the forest," he scolded, his tone a blend of frustration and concern. "Why must you always ignore my advice?"
You winced, both from the pain and his reprimand. "I just… I wanted to see for myself."
Halsin shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he examined the wound. "You're fortunate it wasn't something more deadly."
With practiced ease, he began to mix herbs and apply a salve to your hand, his touch gentle despite his stern expression. The relief was almost immediate, the burning pain subsiding as the antidote took effect.
"You need to be more careful," Halsin lectured, his voice softer now. "I may be able to heal you, but there are some things even I can't fix if you continue to be reckless."
You nodded, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. "I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."
He finished bandaging your hand and looked at you, his eyes softening. "Just promise me you'll be more cautious in the future. I don't want to see you hurt."
"I promise," you said, genuinely contrite.
Halsin gave a small nod, satisfied for the moment, he brought up your injured hand to hiss lips and pressed a kiss to them. "Good. Now, return to our bed, you need rest."
"But I- Halsin!" Halsin, fed up of your combatance carried you over his shoulder, leaving the mess of his work area behind him as he carried you to your bed.
You tried to protest, to wriggle out of his grip but his hold on you was strong. He placed you down on the array of furs and pillows and before you could realise what he was doing he had already wildshaped into his bear form. He pinned your chest with a large paw and quickly settled, not excactly on top of you, but there was no way you would be able to leave. Sleep soon took you ,and you didn't put it past Halsin to have put something in the salve he used to treat your wound to have caused it.
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This series has been going so well and thank you so much everyone for your continued support! - Seluney xox
#bg3#baldurs gate 3#minthara x reader#astarion#minthara x tav#minthara bg3#conqueror Minthara#Minthara#yandere gale dekarios#yandere bg3#yandere Minthara x reader#yandere shadowheart#yandere shadowheart x reader#shadowheart baldurs gate 3#shadowheart x tav#shadowheart bg3#mother superior shadowheart#astarion x reader#ascended astarion x tav#ascended astarion#yandere astarion#yandere halsin#dark halsin#halsin x reader#god of ambition#god!gale x reader#dark bg3#halsin bg3#god gale#minthara baenre x reader
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