Bg3spoilers - Tumblr Posts

10 months ago
I Finished Playing Today And I'm So Full Of Love. Seeing Them Happy And Having Their Own Commune?? The
I Finished Playing Today And I'm So Full Of Love. Seeing Them Happy And Having Their Own Commune?? The
I Finished Playing Today And I'm So Full Of Love. Seeing Them Happy And Having Their Own Commune?? The

I Finished playing today and I'm so full of love. Seeing them happy and having their own commune?? The hugs, the Kisses, the adoration? Halsin needing reassurance that Tav has no regrets? (And she fave the reassurance for sure). Him fearing he will wake up to Tav leaving? And him being in awe when Tav wants to stay with him and keeps loving him. I swear I was over the moon when I saw to how many companions I could talk to about Halsin. Calling him the love of my life. I'm so soft. (BONUS: Shadowheart and my Tav being Sun and Moon Besties)

I Finished Playing Today And I'm So Full Of Love. Seeing Them Happy And Having Their Own Commune?? The

Tags :
10 months ago

Ok it’s been too long since I’ve spoken about BG3 headcanons. Instead of talking about my Tavs though I’m gonna talk about the companions!

POTENTIAL SPOILERS BELOW!

No Minthara because I have yet to recruit her in one of my games, sorry!!! I love her I just haven’t had the ability to play with her and all that.

Halsin

Halsin does not have sculpted abs. He’s got a stomach. I mean come on he’s literally a bear.

He loves talking about the ecology of the various environments you visit. He knows so much about so many plants and animals and fungi.

If you ask him to, Halsin will braid your hair for you. Social grooming is very important to him.

He loves to play with scratch and the owl bear cub in wild shape. He takes the shape of a wolf most often so he’s not too big.

Halsin keeps a nature journal! It’s like his own private version of inaturalist. He tracks the species he sees and where he sees them.

Gale

Gale is skinny and a bit toned during the start of the game, but as he is encouraged to take better care of himself he puts on some weight.

He is constantly asking Halsin about various creatures and Druidic magic. The man’s a nerd, he’s got so many questions and Halsin is kind and patient enough to actually enjoy answering them. They’re great academic buddies. When Gale becomes a professor he invites Halsin to give lectures on ecology and Druidic magic.

Gale has created spells that allow him to make a magic kitchen while on the road. This way he can use more than a campfire to cook.

He loves to stargaze and will point out his favorite constellations if you ask to join him.

Astarion

While he’s good at mending and sewing, Astarion enjoys making perfume far more. He eventually develops perfumes based on each of the traveling companions.

Astarion teaches the entire camp how to wash blood out of clothing and gear because someone has to. Also he refuses to do everyone’s laundry for them.

He often goes with Halsin to forage for herbs and flowers. It’s a chance to stock up on supplies for his perfumes and also to manipulate bond with the Druid.

Him and Shadowheart often discuss poisons together. They have a secret game early in the adventure where they say how they would poison each member of the group, what poison they would use, and why. When both of them start to feel accepted and cared for they switch to talking about what poisons best represent the group members instead.

Shadowheart

She spends a lot of time at camp by herself, even after rejecting Shar. She values alone time. It also allows her a chance to process what has happened to her and what she has lost.

Scratch sleeps with her most nights after he joins the camp. At first she’s annoyed by it(a ‘pet’ distracts from her mission) but it’s not very long before she’s cuddling with him.

Shadowheart collects trinkets after converting. She wants to surround herself with things she enjoys.

Lae’zel

Since she travels with a grindstone, Lae’zel helps everyone maintain their weapons. Not out of kindness at first, but because her allies being weak and having subpar gear makes her weak. Eventually tho she teaches everyone how to do it themselves to help them be stronger(and because helping people care for their weapons is a friendly gesture).

She develops a special bond with Gale and Shadowheart, as all three were manipulated/used/abandoned by their deities. She doesn’t exactly know how to support the others as the process things, but she is Faerun’s greatest hype man and constantly reminds them that the gods were cruel and foolish for what they did.

Lae’zel and Halsin help each other maintain their braids. Hers are more intricate and decorated but Halsin is more than able to put them in properly.

Wyll

Wyll spends a lot of time with Karlach after he refuses to kill her. At first because he wants to apologize for hunting her and prove he can be trusted, then after the transformation for advice on how to live life with horns, and finally because he just loves to spend time with her.

While he wasn’t exactly “shy” before his transformation, Wyll starts bathing last because his own body has become unfamiliar and he no longer feels comfortable being seen without at least a shirt and some pants on.

When the others realize that he’s struggling with his body more than he lets on they do their best to help in their own ways. Karlach teaches him how to care for his horns properly, Halsin helps him learn how to braid his hair around them, Astarion finds clothing that is not only comfortable and modest but also makes him look really good, Lae’zel helps him adjust to the change in his center of gravity by sparring with him, and Gale tracks down books about teifling/fiend anatomy for him to read.

He’s really good with children. When Arabella and then Yenna join the camp he spends his evenings keeping them company, telling them stories, playing with them, etc. Karlach often joins him.

Karlach

She makes use of her unnatural heat to help with as many things around camp as she can. Drying clothes, cooking, heating water for bathing, being cozy when it’s especially cold, etc. because if she can do good things with the engine it feels less like a curse.

Once she can touch people safely, she spends almost an entire evening just cuddling with as many people as possible. It starts with just Scratch and the owl bear cub. Then Halsin joins. Then she goes to find the others for hugs. Astarion jokes about how the two of them could probably reach normal temperatures if they just hugged for long enough.

She and Lae’zel bond quickly through their sparring. The two joke back and forth in their own ways and it confuses the other companions at first, because basically no one else has had a chance to learn Lae’zel’s sense of humor.

Karlach collects the various teddy bears and plush toys they encounter on the journey. Having nice, soft, cuddly things to curl up with makes her feel safe.

Jaheira

She knows how to get you fucked up beyond your wildest dreams. Smoking with her is an ORDEAL.

Jaheria speaks to the younger party members like they’re her kids. This doesn’t become clear until they visit her home, however, at which point said companions have various reactions(Karlach loves it, Lae’zel does not).

Minsc

Minsc quickly joins the sparring sessions. He also starts wrestling matches.

He can often be found having seemingly one sided conversations in camp, apparently talking to boo. The topics of these chats are vast and varied. Gale once heard him discussing the various meanings of different flowers in bouquets according to flower language.


Tags :
1 year ago

Uh oh I'm writing again... have some wyllstarion

Wyll likes to act like the most straightforward guy in the party- and perhaps, with what strange characters have coalesced here, he may very well be. Although, Astarion thinks to himself, pots and kettles are still black, at the end of the day- no matter what they call themselves or each other.

The vampire is not usually one to dwell on others for too long, simply because he has more than enough to worry about on his own. But something about Wyll, his righteous façade, his dedication to remaining insufferably well-meaning, even in the face of becoming an actual, literal, devil from the hells. It’s off-putting. Not quite right. Something about Wyll is just not quite right.  

He becomes transfixed- gaze unwittingly wandering to the warlock whenever he’s been idle for too long. Gale notices, but he thinks it’s because Astarion has a crush on Wyll, and is too stubborn to admit it. Sometimes he’ll try to engineer a way for the two of them to be alone together, steering Tav further ahead into a crypt, or pretending to be asleep when they’re all huddled around the fire. Astarion is too embarrassed at being caught staring to properly threaten the wizard for even thinking such a thing.

His fixation is not amorous. It’s curious. What in the world could such a seemingly candid, straightforward fellow have to hide? The things that drift to mind are equal parts terrifying and hilarious. Perhaps he’s secretly some twisted murderer- although, it’s not like Astarion’s not one of those- or perhaps he has a tragic, uncomfortable rash somewhere inconvenient. That would be funny. Astarion wonders if his new devilish-ness has come with any awkward skin conditions. Horns simply cannot be comfortable on a head so used to not having them.

He’s getting into the weeds now- the point is, Wyll is strange. And Astarion has absolutely no idea how to deal with him. A fact that has become increasingly apparent, as the man- currently sweating bullets in the middle of a watership they’d commandeered- falters and stumbles over his words for the first time since they’ve known each other.

The others are tending their wounds, and those of the other prisoners they’d managed to free in the short time they’d been in Gortash’s underwater prison. Shadowheart stands over a beaten Omeluum and rests a glowing hand gently against his forehead. Halsin is kneeled on the floor of the ship, inspecting injuries and distributing salve and bandages to the Gondians gathered around him.

Wyll is staring at his father’s furrowed brow, mouth choking around pleasantries. Astarion tilts his head at the display, considering. He and Wyll aren’t that close, but the other man had insisted that they save his father. Had begged Tav to let him go; went against Mizora, knowing full-well what she is capable of.  And all he can choke out, when they finally reunite, is a short, stunted hello?

Then, he catches a glimpse of the Duke’s face. The disgust is so apparent that Astarion almost recoils with the force of it. Perhaps that’s why Wyll is struggling so much.

He tarries for a moment, two, but cannot stay idle when the gruff older man opens his mouth to respond. There’s no doubt in Astarion’s mind that whatever is about to come out of his mouth will break Wyll’s heart, and for some godsforsaken reason, he doesn’t want to let that happen.

“A Grand Duke! My my, Wyll, who knew you had such lofty connections?” Astarion sidles up next to his friend, sliding a cool hand up his back to grasp at his shoulder in steady reassurance. His body moves of its own accord, without his permission, but he cannot find it within himself to regret the action when Wyll’s shoulders relax just so underneath his hand, when his brow smooths.

“Ah, well. It’s been a while.” His smile is a rueful, broken thing hanging off of its hinges. The laugh that follows creaks hollowly. Astarion cannot stand the sight of it. He turns his sharpened gaze to the Duke, smiles wide so as to showcase his sharp, pearly fangs.

“Oh, that’s too bad, my dear. That your father has not had the chance to know what a devilishly good fellow you’ve grown into.” The Duke coughs at the word ‘devilishly’ but that’s why Astarion had used it. Good. Be uncomfortable. He laughs something mirthless and sharp before continuing, “No matter. You did just save him, now you’ve got all the time in the world to catch up.”

Wyll looks at him for a moment, eyes clouded, calculating. He huffs a ghost of a laugh but shakes his head. “I appreciate your optimism, my friend, but perhaps-“

The Duke’s forceful, indignant interruption drowns out the rest of whatever he was about to say, “First you cleave my heart in twain, and now you shatter it to pieces! My son, a monster, twisted almost beyond recognition.” He stares at Wyll as if he was no better than the dirt beneath his feet, then scoffs to the side. “To think… my blood flows through those veins.” The words are forced past his lips, almost as if he’s about to be sick.

Astarion sneers at the display. Wyll only shakes his head, dispassionately at his feet.

“It’s not what you think, it never was.” His voice is small, but firm. Astarion’s long-dead heart aches in his chest. Who could possibly deny that, deny him? The Duke snarls his response, “It is exactly what I think.”

And that’s quite enough, Astarion decides. He doesn’t know where all of this animalistic protectiveness is coming from, but it’s as if a beast has been awakened inside of him, sitting on its haunches, ready to pounce at any moment. Wyll’s expression has only sunken further into despair, his eyes duller than they’ve ever been. It’s unnatural, to watch as the usual spark of life within them flickers out into a deep, yawning pain.

“I’m beginning to think we should have let you drown, Duke,” He spits the word like it’s a curse, “if this is how you’re going to treat your savior. He’s risked his life, his godsdamned soul to save yours. The least you could do is show a little fucking gratitude.” Astarion’s teeth are gritted as he speaks, his voice low and grating in ways it’s only been in the midst of battle. Wyll is looking at him like he’s seeing him for the first time. He’s frowning, but his eyes are shining again so Astarion takes it as a success.

Before anything else can be said, both Wyll and his father groan and hunch over themselves. Astarion’s own tadpole twitches at the psychic disturbance. They’re sharing memories. It’s but a few moments later that they’re shaking themselves out of it, Astarion clutches tightly at Wyll’s waist, supporting his weight as he recovers. It doesn’t hurt that he’s so warm, and fit, either.

Silence reigns for a moment, two, three as the Duke parses through whatever’s Wyll’s just chosen to show him. Astarion’s thumb moves of its own accord against the sharp jut of Wyll’s hipbone through his robe. The other man relaxes minutely, and as much as Astarion is loathe to admit it, his body knows what it’s doing better than his mind does, right now. Because his mind has not really stopped repeating whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuckareyoudoingidiot for the past half hour.  

The Duke nods, after a minute or so. “I… I apologize, my son. You have suffered much for your people.”

Wyll nods, his voice is just slightly wet as he speaks, “Everything I did, I did for Baldur’s Gate. I did for you.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Astarion’s heart with it. He pulls Wyll tighter against him before releasing his grip. The Duke’s eyes shine, a little bit like Wyll’s always seem to. Astarion is beginning to see the resemblance.

“You sold your soul to save Baldur’s Gate- and I cast you out for it. You gave yourself to the hells eternal fires so I might walk free. By the gods! Can you ever forgive me?” He seems close to tears himself. Good. Astarion thinks, and only feels a little bad about it when Wyll responds in kind.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Astarion disagrees but remains quiet, they’re having a moment. “You only wanted to protect the city, and I only ever wanted the same.” Wyll is a much better man than Astarion could ever hope to be, he would have said ‘I told you so’ and spit at his feet. Perhaps that’s why Wyll is the Blade of Frontiers and Astarion is not. The Duke seems to concur.

“You are a better man than I. A better son than I deserve.” A few seconds pass as the two take a moment to look at each other, for all that they are, and all that they wish they were, before drawing in and crushing together into a violent, giddy hug. Astarion sighs to himself, contented.

Both of them are crying and Astarion pretends like he doesn’t notice. He makes to walk away after a bit, but before he can make it very far the Duke is calling him back. “Wait, vampire!” Oh hells. Not this again. If the fucking Bitch-Duke tries to stake him after he’d just helped save his ass, he’s going to be quite cross. And Wyll just might have to reconcile with not having a father. Oh, who is he kidding. He’d die before being the reason the other man’s eyes were dulled. Still, it’d be extremely inconvenient.

Astarion sighs, but turns on his heel. “What could you possibly need from me, your Duke-ness. I thought you and doe-eyes here were having father-son bonding time?” Wyll recoils a bit at the description, as if no one’s told him how large and shiny his eyes are. Pity, that.

The Duke looks at him like he’s an especially tricky puzzle. Good. He likes being difficult.

“I wanted to thank you. For setting me straight.” Astarion sighs and inspects his nails, trying not to let the thanks sink in. They always feel strange and hot in his gut. Bubbly and uncomfortable.

“Well, someone had to and little miss martyr here wasn’t going to do it.” Wyll smiles and offers a similar thanks. Striding forward and pulling Astarion into a gentle embrace.

“Thank you, Astarion. You truly are a gift.” He whispers the words, low and sincere into his ear as he clasps a warm hand tenderly across the back of his neck. Astarion hates and loves it. He’s so fucking glad to be dead and hungry right now, because there’s not enough blood to show the warmth blossoming across his cheeks and onto the tips of his ears. He coughs.

“Yes, well, aren’t I always. I’ll leave you two to it!” And with that, he scurries away. Perhaps more confused and intrigued than ever, but understanding more about Wyll than he ever has.

What a strange, strange man. But gods, he is cute.


Tags :