It's Time For Some More Astarion Analysis~

it's time for some more astarion analysis~

making this a separate post in case people wanted to reblog just the gifs on their own and don't care about the extra fluff. i'm certain this scene has been analyzed to the hells and back by this point, but when i was making this set something really stuck out to me and i wanted to throw my two cents in anyway.

this is the tail end of the mirror scene from act 1, where you catch astarion looking in the mirror and lamenting about not being able to see his reflection or knowing what he looks like anymore. and while that alone is sad enough, it gets SO MUCH WORSE.

if you express genuine interest in his predicament (i.e. asking him if he misses his reflection and what color his eyes were before he was turned), you get to see the mask slip. it's one of the first times in the game that he's not hiding behind his quick wit and silver tongue.

if you tell him you'll be his mirror, you can see the change in his demeanor immediately. his face softens, the cadence of his voice changes; you can literally hear the vulnerability in every word he says. huge props to neil and the rest of larian for making the distinction between these dialogue options, of course. it's the little details that really make moments like these shine.

but there was something else i noticed in the footage i recorded as well that i hadn't picked up on any of my other playthroughs. i've spent a lot of time staring at this man's face, especially while capturing idle animations for gifs and wallpapers, and most of the time it's what you'd expect, with minimal face movement, expressions changing, etc. most companions i record seem to behave the same way, with similar expressions/blinking/eye movement.

but just look at astarion's face here. this feels deliberately unique. he is SO anxious, so worried how you'll perceive him. the rapid blinking, the nervous darting of his eyes… it genuinely breaks my heart.

(tumblr will only let me upload one video per post, but just look at any other idle footage of him and you'll see the difference)

and the second you tell him what he thinks he wants to hear? that he's very attractive? he slips right back into his suave, flirtatious persona, and even praises you for complimenting his looks. even if you eventually ask him if all he wants is shallow praise, he still deflects and isn't completely honest with you.

note that if you choose to take the less compassionate route and simply tell them that he has a "very good face," he will still prompt you to tell him what you see when you look at him, and the delivery of the line is subtly but noticeably different and more guarded. similarly, if you poke a little too much fun at him by calling him old and draw too much attention to his mole, he gets very flustered and ends the conversation immediately. understandable, since he's relied on his appearance for so long, and hearing (even jokingly) that even that might not be something he can use anymore must be at least a little terrifying for him.

so naturally, you might think that by being truthful with him would perhaps net you a better result -- after all, you're telling him what he asked for, what you really see, that you see him as more than just someone to lust after -- but it doesn't. he actually seems a little upset if you choose those dialogue options. in that moment, he wants to know that you find him attractive, because he thinks that's all he's good for. because if you find him attractive, there's a chance that he could seduce you and use you for protection against cazador. i do think he also genuinely wants to know that there's so much more to him than just a pretty face, since that's a big theme of his entire story/romance arc, but that's not at the top of his priority list this early in the game. he's relying purely on instinct. he knows how to respond to people telling him he's attractive. accepting genuine compliments about the person beneath the mask? that's probably not something he's had much (if any) experience with in close to two centuries. he didn't have the luxury of being able to let anyone see who he really was.

all that to say that this interaction is really heartbreaking. he wants to be seen, wants to be understood and possibly loved, but at the same time he still thinks he needs to put on a front to ensure he can keep himself safe. watching him slowly start to unlearn those habits during the course of the game has been one of my favorite things about bg3 and a huge part of what's really endeared astarion to me as a character.

Incubus Astarion

Suddenly you hear the window in your cozy room creak open, and he emerges from behind the curtains. What should you do now? Should you be frightened or?... peek under the loincloth

Sunday Snippet

Hello friends! Thank you to the lovely @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx for tagging me over the last week in WIP posts. I threw all my energy in to Gortash Week, but now that I've finished those pieces, I'm going to try to catch up on tag games and asks! (There, uh, will still be lots of Gortash, though.)

To repeat what I said a week ago: I am working on the third (and final) part of A House, A Home (tumblr version: Parts One and Two). There will be angst, there will be smut, there will be attempts to piece together fragmented memories of angst and smut. I took a break from it this past week, but I'm excited to dive back in.

So here's a snippet:

The memory surfaced unexpectedly. She was laughing in a sunlit room. This room, and this bed, with the sheets rumpled and well-used. Enver was stretched out across them, naked. Beautiful. He was lounging on pillows, ever the spoiled lord, but his arms stretched above his head, bound by a length of black silk that was tied somewhere near the headboard. His jaw was clenched, but he looked at her with a haze of lust and longing in his eyes. She had a dagger in her hand, one of his many gifts, too delicate to be much use in most of her work. But it was perfect for today. She slowly licked the blade and tasted the salt and iron of his blood while he watched every movement of her mouth. “Darling Enver,” she mocked. “Is this worth it, to be able to call me yours? Do you have the pet Bhaalspawn you’ve always desired?”

I honestly don't know when people last posted, so I am going to re-tag @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx as well as @preciouslittlebhaalbae and @flamemittens! Share your WIPs with the world (if you'd like)!

i don't know why i did this but here it is.

With Stars to Fill My Dream (3) - But It Was a Trick and the Clock Struck 12

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 6,673

Opening of Chatper 3 Under the Cut! 🖤

Ofelia tosses and turns beside the fire in the bedroll she’d found, trying to adjust her body to the feeling of sleeping on the ground. Oh, what she’d give for a cot of some kind instead. Sleep isn’t something that usually comes easy anyway, her nights are usually prone to recurrent nightmares... Still, as tired as she is, it remains out of reach.

Astarion never returned for the stew, and he’d only come back a little while ago. She’d watched him cross the camp in the darkness, moving quietly as he stalked towards the bedroll next to hers. She’d pretended she was asleep, peeking out of a tiny gap in her lashes to see him hover beside her for a moment, red irises ablaze in the light of the fire. He’d looked predatory, like how a lion would whilst stalking its prey, but the look disappeared in an instant and he’d gone to lay down in his bedroll.

She rewinds to the beginning of the day when they first encountered each other. He’s got a mouth on him, that’s for sure, but she can’t really complain when she's just as willing and able to exchange blows. He’s pretty, there’s certainly that. The milk-white of his skin would put porcelain to shame. Tall, sharp, perfect hair… ugh. He’s probably the prettiest person she’s ever seen, or one of them if the others hadn’t also been so weirdly attractive. Even Lae’zel with her tiny little nose… and bossy attitude...

I may have issues. She sighs and rolls over, feeling stupid.

She can’t help but wonder about Astarion’s eyes- she’s never seen a color like that bar contacts- which she’d sported once upon a time when she used to go out and do something worth getting dressed up for. She trails off, thinking about her old friends… there were a couple, both just as partial to black clothes and dark make-up as her. Oh, what fun they used to have- tripping over their platforms, getting piercings and tattoos. She sighs again, her heart twisting as she glares up at the stars.

Wyll is so fucking funny and no amount of acknowledgement about this could ever be enough. He's literally walking around being so casually hilarious completely under-the-radar. He calls Halsin a "thick hunk of an elf". He once accidently implied that he was fucking an ogre instead of killing it and then proceeded to absolutely stumble his way through explaining. He gets excited by Lae'zel talking about carnal pleasures. He canonically tells his pessimistic thoughts to shut the hell up. He volunteers to babysit Shadowheart's hypothetical werewolf babies as long as she gets him gloves. He tries to give Gale a hero moniker like his own. He jokes that his father, the Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate, can't spell. He calls Astarion "Mister Fangs". He makes up storybook chapter names for his own fucking adventures. As a child he got chased by the Flaming Fist for stealing fruit, nearly drowned trying to find mermaids in the harbor, and almost successfully broke into the Counting House. He reads monster erotica, and is not ashamed to tell you about it. He ranks eating pudding among life's greatest moments. He will, without shame and completely unprompted, meow at you. He is 24 years old.