⢠General tag: #yae of evereska
⢠Masterpost (TBA)
Kirian
Ey/em ⢠human ⢠commoner ⢠genderfluid
⢠General tag: #kirian the witch
⢠Masterpost (TBA)
Gift art đ¤đ§Ą
By Elceewunjo ⢠By Endermal ⢠By Theya-Art
Handy tags
⢠#tag games and #asks
⢠#candle's writing â you can also check my AO3 account
⢠#candle's vp â trying to paint with light
⢠#candle's ramblings â assorted essays and thoughts
⢠#glimmer â personal list of things that make me happy
Zines & other initiatives
⢠BG3 Yaerbook, Midwinter Class
⢠Colours of the Gate vol. 2
So, for the last few weeks my physical health went to shit (that's why you haven't seen me around), and I guess I could use some positivity.
So if you're reading this, and you missed me even a little during this time, or even once wondered how I am, would you mind letting me know? It's enough to just like this post.
Thank you @litsen for the tag!!! I also spoke: here, here and here
But here, I'll develop more!!
The name Caedus is an important name for my Durge but also for me. This name accompanies me since a long time, since my teenage years.
Part 1: A galaxy far far away
The name Caedus comes of my another favorite fandom: Star Wars.
Caedus cames from the sith name: Darth Caedus. This is a name of a villain. The word Caedus comes for the latin: Caeda/Caedes which means: murder, slaughter.
In Star Wars universe, the villain Darth Caedus is more near of Ketheric Thorm and Gortash than Durge. He's a person who join the dark side to try to stop the war and stop horror of this but he made totally the opposite blind by the Dark Side. He finally became a tyrant. He's a tragic character who lived the horror of wars and loss of his brother and friends, these tragic events openned the door of the Dark side for this character.
Darth Caedus
Before to join the dark side, he was a kind person who loved animals. Who prefers to resolve conflict whitout to use violence.
This character was clearly an inspiration for my Durge: the name, this meaning is just perfect for a Durge. But his kind personnality before to become a Sith Lord and his appareance were also little an inspiration especially as the lost mage.
The name Caedus is also a tribute to my another favorite universe and this charactar who is my favorite Star Wars character.
I also love the name of Caedus because it's an ancien word a latin word, it adds a mysterious side to my Durge.
Part 2: The name who kills the urges
Caedus is the birth name of my Durge, gave by Bhaal himself. Even their name was given by Bhaal, for Caedus this name is the name of freedom, it's Caedus who defeated the urges, their past. It's so symbolic for them. So naturally they keep this name. Caedus could be take their adoptive name: Monthea Stonehell but they don't remember this name. Take another name will be not natural for Caedus. They only knew this name since their awakening in the Nautiloid.
It's also like Shadowheart who keeps this name after to be free of Shar and I like so much that.
A free of Bhaal Caedus
I could not resist to take a screenshots with the two villains together, you know me and my love of crossover!!! lol
For Bhaalist Caedus, there is a new person to manipulate and after to sacrifice to Bhaal.
Mods used:
Darth Caedus: face, outfit, lightsaber, hair, eyes
Bhaalist Caedus: outfit, earrings, crown, dye, eyes: here and here
Caedus' outfit lost mage act 3
Pose: here and here
QSAT
Lighty lights
Place
custom companion
I already talked about it a bit (here), but let's do it again đ¤
'Ellith' is a name I created, based on Tolkien's etymologies for both Sindarin and Quenya, and their mutual influences during the First Age of Middle-earth.
Basically, el is the etymological root that is most often related to the stars : Elbereth -> Lady of the Stars, EldaliĂŤ -> people of the stars (the Elves), which gave 'Eldar' and 'Ellon/Elleth', or even Elendil (Elf-friend) among many other words in both Quenya and Sindarin and other elven dialects.
'Lith' means ashes/dust/sand in Sindarin, and it's related to Quenya 'litse' , both coming from the root lit.
As you can imagine, 'Litse' is also related to my own username. As for the '-nna' ending, it's a Quenya suffix to indicate a destination ( '-men' in sindarin). Therefore 'Litsen' is a sort of mix between Sindarin and Quenya of my own invention which should mean 'to the dust/ashes' (not sure Tolkien would approve of my use of his etymologies - I'm no linguistic scholar - but the man is not longer here to judge me anyway so who cares).
And it's all related to one of my former OC, Seregtari, who was a version of Lilith but adapted to Middle-earth - back then I tried to find a Tolkien-ish etymological explanation for her name, which would make sense in his legendarium.
[Seregtari, a commission I made back then to @tosquinha]
After many circumvolutions, I decided that 'Lilith' would be a diminutive for 'Lithenna', which basically means the same thing as Litsen, but with the Sindarin Lith + quenya -nna -> 'to the dust/toward the dust'. Again, not sure Tolkien would approve any of this but I'm just playing with the etymologies he created to make it fit the story I want to tell (and my personal tastes).
And Lithenna became a username of mine for a few years (I changed it to Litsen because the "a" ending made it sound like a fem name and I didn't want to be ultimately perceived as a she-person. Litsen sounds a little more "neutral", I think).
Anyway, my OC Ellith is based on my former OC 'Lilith Seregtari', so I wanted a name that could be a reminder of it but in a different way, still with the connection to ashes - so Ellith basically means 'stardust' or 'star-ashes' (I didn't know anything about the Durge story back then, but when I first heard them say "all is ash and meat', I was delighted ahaha).
Of course, the languages of FaerĂťn aren't that of Tolkien's (although inspired by it in many ways), but still, I like to pretend their name keeps its meaning for the people of FaerĂťn (I briefly mentioned how they received their name in this fic).
As you can imagine, it means quite a lot to me, first of all because I wouldn't be here today in my professional and personal life, but also online life, without Tolkien's work and legendarium. His tales were the fertile ground from which most of my imagination sprouted and keeps on growing. As for the imagery of Lilith, it really meant a lot to me as I was growing up, I studied it a lot at uni through literature, cultural analysis and art, and I think it shaped me as a person somehow. So this is an ingredient I can't leave aside, even for a genderfluid character.
I hope it makes sense ahaha đ All in all that's a name that encapsulates many parts of my imagination and the little bit of creativity I've managed to channel through my OCs and fantasy preferences.
Summary: Five months after the battle that saved Baldur's Gate, Natavriel finds themself pondering just how different their life feels, now, with Astarion and Storm at their side.
AO3 link or read below the cut
It was well past midnight when Storm stepped out of the room he usually shared with Astarion in Tav's little house, where he'd been attempting to sleep off a bad headache. Shirtless, of course, as he always was at night, even in the dead of winter. How was it that he was never cold, Tav couldn't understand.
Storm hopped onto the slightly raised platform that housed the reading nook, where Tav had been lounging on a comfortable pile of cushions, reading. They set their book aside, watching him kneel at their side before welcoming him when he lay down and snuggled half on top of them, sinking into the cushions.
"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled, shifting so that his head rested on their sternum, nuzzling the soft fabric of their waist scarf. "I'm not crushing you?"
"Not at all."
Even if he had been, they couldn't possibly have found the will to push him away. His thumb tested the different fabrics of their clothes, tickling their ribs, and he settled on the same spot he'd nuzzled moments before, rubbing tiny circles to feel the weaving of thread.
"Is your headache any better?"
His wordless shrug indicated that probably not much, if at all. The headaches were few and far between, now, but painkillers seemed to have dulled in efficacy.
"I wonder if we could try to find someone that can help you with that," said Tav, winding their fingers in his hair carefully so that none of their rings would catch on the silky dark strands. "Halsin did what he could, that does not mean nothing else would work."
A contented sigh came from him when their fingers softly traced the hairline behind his ear. "It's already much better than it used to be. I'm willing to live with how it is now, it's alright."
Those words always had the effect of a warming balm to Tav's heart. I'm willing to live. I'm willing to live. And maybe the context of the words should have made their impact lesser, it was simply a turn of phrase after all. But it didn't. Storm was willing to live. There were many bad days, of course âthere likely always would be. But today, Storm was willing to live. Tav breathed through the peace that settled in them, one hand still playing with Storm's hair, the other tracing thoughtless patterns on his bare shoulders.
Five months had passed since the city had been saved, and Natavriel, too, was finally starting to feel like themself again. Without the weight of the tadpole, or the crumbling of their state of mind that had followed the aftermath of its disappearance.
And that disappearance had been a relief, certainly. But their mind was a fragile thing, and the sudden departure of the adrenaline that had kept them going for the past few months had been a hard thing to contend with, and apathy had followed as it usually did.
They took in the sight of their apartment, bathed in the soft warm glow of the fire they'd started going shortly before settling to read. They'd often hated this house, before. It had rarely felt like theirs âjust an empty shelter that they had decided would be temporary, until the Court would feel hags were no longer worth surveilling and Tav would be allowed to return to Waterdeep. Where friends and family waited for them.
Here and now, though, Storm nestled in their arms and with the knowledge that Astarion would soon come back from his night, there was nowhere else they would have rather be.
In the past five months, Storm had insisted they replace all the plants that had died, had been at their side when they found two starving kittens, had built a small wooden tree to make sure those same kittens would play there and not destroy their furniture, and had helped them put order in the mess of their bedroom whenever it all became too much for them to manage alone. Astarion had then decided the house decor was decidedly too drab to live in, and had started adding as much colour as he could by way of vibrant fabrics for new cushions, curtains or couch covers, as well as various paintings dubiously acquired that had started stacking in the room he shared with Storm for lack of space on the walls. And little by little, just as joy slowly returned and found a place in their mind, warmth and safety had found its way in this house.
Because surely, if these men put so much effort into making this house beautiful, that meant they intended to stay. And that, in turn, made Tav want to stay.
Their hand moved to trace the ridges of Storm's shoulder blade, then those of his spine, and he shivered.
"Tickles."
"Sorry. My hands aren't too cold?"
"S'alright. Astarion has colder hands than you." He propped himself lightly on one elbow, glancing at the emptiness of the living room with sleepy eyes. "He's not here?"
"He went hunting in the Upper City not long after you went to bed."
"Oh," he whispered, falling back into the cuddle.
Both of them knew what that meant. Astarion had begun tracking down every patriar who had knowingly participated in Cazador's little masquerade of nobility, lately. One by one, heads had started to fall.
"I'm always scared he'll get caught when he does that."
"Yes, I think that's why he didn't warn you this time."
"Oh but he tells you, because you worry so much less than me," Storm chuckled. He craned his neck to kiss their wrist as they trailed the little bumps on his shoulders to ease the tension that had formed there. "Makes complete sense."
They laughed softly at his teasing. "Maybe it's only that this was a last minute decision and he thought you were asleep."
"Yes, now, that sounds more like him."
One of his hands slid up in their hair to trace the line of earrings adorning the shell of their ear one by one, until he landed on the long one dangling from their lobe. With a satisfied little hum, he rolled the thin chain securing the amber pendant back and forth between his fingers, the motions tickling their neck.
Little by little, the weight of his body on theirs relaxed. His tail lazily flicked on the ground ever now and then, sure sign that he was entirely at ease.
It was a shame, Tav thought mischievously, that the kittens were currently both sleeping in their room. Chasing around Storm's tail would have offered plenty of entertainment, be it for the cats or for Tav. Because he was right. They did worry about Astarion just as much as Storm did, whenever the desire for revenge prompted him to hunt in the city âhence why they were not in bed, irreverently ignoring their usual schedule to wait for his return. Maybe it would indeed be worth calling the cats over.
"NatavrielâŚ"
"Mh?"
No answer came but the deepening of his breath, and the progressive slowing down of his fingers' motions in their hair. Storm, as it turned out, could sleep just fine.
And so the cats âjust like Tavâ would have to wait at least a few more hours before playtime.
When Astarion came back from his hunt a few hours later, it drew Tav out of a trance they hadn't intended to fall into. The little chime that anchored Siovi's protective enchantment over this house rang softly, and their full awareness returned to them as Astarion crouched by their side in his full leathers, looking at Storm sleeping in their embrace.
"Hey," they greeted him.
His eyes gleamed in the darkness âthe glow of the fire had considerably diminished, plunging the entire living space of Tav's house into dimness.
"Can you believe he stays asleep, now? Four months ago he would have been awake before I even touched the door."
They tried to shift, but most of Storm's weight was firmly set on one of their thigh, and the attempt only served to intensify the tingling numbness they could now feel in their right foot.
"That's probably because of the tea I gave him before you left," they said in a low voice, giving up without much resistance the idea of ever moving again. "For pain, and for the dreams."
"Oh. That's right, you did do that."
He blinked a few times, not breathing.
"How did it go?" Tav ventured carefully.
His gaze flitted between Storm's sleeping figure and their face, back and forth, for a few moments. He extended one gloved hand, fingertips hovering inches away from Storm's cheek. Then shook his head subtly and sighed.
"I'll⌠go take a bath," he simply said.
A bad one, then. The killing unearthing unpleasant memories more than it offered satisfaction, not doubt. Astarion's eyes had that distant look they always had whenever he was struggling not to be swallowed by the past, unable to receive a touch that might have been grounding to others, but was only triggering for him.
"I could prepare it for you, if you'd like," they offered.
"You know, that would actually be really nice."
They smiled at him before brushing their fingers to Storm's forehead. "Love."
A sleepy groan answered them, but Storm didn't stir.
"Storm," they called again.
"What," he sighed, clearly still half asleep.
"Hello, lover," Astarion said, an amused smirk teasing his lips in spite of all.
His voice shook Storm awake instantly, and the tiefling hastily scrambled to his knees, freeing Tav's leg. Their subsequent attempt to stretch some feeling back into their toes only served to widen Astarion's crooked smile. Until Storm winced in pain from the sudden motions, that was.
"Ow." He braced himself with one hand on the floor, the heel of his other palm pressed above one eyebrow. Still, he squinted at Astarion, relief and concern mingling in his eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"I am unharmed. And I was not seen."
Storm closed his eyes with a small sigh, and only Tav witnessed Astarion wrestling between the desire to reach out, and the fear of what it would mean to accept Storm's touch in a moment where all the thoughts plaguing his mind were bad.
"Sit with me, a while?" he asked instead.
"Of course." One glowing blue eye cracked open. "Though, if you don't mind, it will be 'lie down next to you', because there is no way I am staying upright if I don't have to."
That did get a chuckle out of Astarion. "That sounds perfect to me, my love."
As Tav stepped away to start preparing the bath, Storm lay back on the cushions they'd just left, Astarion settling quietly at his side, cross-legged. And Storm did what Tav themself sometimes struggled to do; he provided the silent space needed for Astarion to simply be.
For a little while, no other sound filled the house but that of Tav pouring water in the linen covered wooden tub near the fireplace.
One of Siovi's first gifts when Tav had left the Feywild had been a beautifully engraved golden jug, invaluable not because of its precious material, but by virtue of the enchantment it held âfresh water from the numerous sources of Siovi's domain always flowed from it. Thus Tav never found themself in want of water, and what might have been a luxury for many became accessible easily. The running water would have been harmful to Astarion while it was flowing, of course, but as long as it could sit in the tub for a little while it ceased to be a danger.
Warming the bath was another matter entirely, and it took several batches of heating water on the iron-cast stove that served as the house's fireplace before the temperature was adequate. Tav then went to retrieve oils âlavender had become Astarion's favourite very fastâ, and soaps âsimple fragrance that would not clash either with the lavender or with the perfumes he favouredâ, unfolded the privacy screens, placed fresh clothes and towels by the side of the bath, and made sure the fire would not be running out of wood to burn while Astarion bathed.
Every now and then as they worked, they stole glances in the direction of the reading nook, unable to help themself.
Astarion had removed his gloves and had threaded one hand in Storm's hair, that was a good sign. And no doubt Storm enjoyed the cold, that always helped with headaches. A few moments later some murmurs came, and they caught sight of Storm helping Astarion undo the buckles of his chest leather piece with one hand, still lying down, and a tender kind of warmth spread in their chest at the witnessing of such casual intimacy.
When Tav finally joined the two men, it was to find Astarion laying down on his side, his forehead pressed against Storm's bare shoulder. Not resting yet, though, and he acknowledged their presence with a little smile.
"Bath's ready when you want," they informed him.
"Thank you."
He sat up and Storm stirred lightly, clearly not asleep either. Astarion's armour now lay discarded in the opposite corner of the reading nook, and he threw one glance at it.
"I'll take care of it," said Tav. Then had to stifle a yawn. "Tomorrow," they amended.
"But you hate it when I leave my mess everywhere."
They shrugged at him as Storm suppressed a chuckle. "Today I don't mind."
"Be careful. I might take advantage of that."
"Yes, I know you will," they sighed with a very dramatic fatalism that had no other purpose than making him laugh. And it did work, so as far as Tav was concerned, the theatrics were worth it.
His gaze lingered on Storm for a bit, and whatever internal battle took place in his mind resulted in him bending over to place a single small kiss on the corner of Storm's mouth.
"You can go sleep." He stood up, already stepping towards the bath that was waiting for him. "I'll join you when I'm done."
"Mh. Alright," Storm mumbled, prising one eye open. "Where would you like to rest?"
Astarion stopped in his track and ran a hand into his hair as he pondered that, shifting his weight where he stood. Clearly that was not a question he had expected.
"Tav's bed?" he said hesitantly. "If that's alright?"
That had happened more than a few times, already, the three of them resting in Tav's bedroom. But it might have been the first time Astarion himself expressly asked for it.
Storm only nodded in answer, and closed his eye again.
"Of course," said Tav at the same time.
The 'no-sex-in-this-bed-even-if-Tav's-not-in-it' rule they'd established early on when Storm had kept spending half of his nights with Tav and Astarion ended up joining them had been for Tav, initially. But they wondered now if it didn't also offer some assurance of safety for Astarion. Not that Storm would ever push him, and they all knew that, but on a day like today, the added spoken rule might ease his mind anyway. A clear signal that he was not open to that kind of intimacy, without ever having to voice a refusal.
There might have been a tad too much unconcealed understanding in their eyes though, because Astarion's quiet musing rapidly shifted to an annoyed sort of self-consciousness.
"Just keep the cuddles confined to your side of the bed when I get there, will you?" he said sharply with an aloofness that did not quite conceal his discomfort.
"Whatever you want, darling," came Storm's sleepy voice at their back, rendered entirely oblivious to Astarion's dilemma by his hazy state of semi consciousness. "I love you."
Astarion's sourness melted as fast as it came, and he threw Tav a look of fond exasperation, presumably at his inability to resist Storm's sweetness. To which they shrugged playfully, and that only made him roll his eyes.
"Get this man to bed," he said, finally heading towards the bath. "Please. Before I permanently forget what anger feels like."
Tav snorted softly, before diligently prodding Storm in the direction of their room.
The cats begrudgingly accepted to surrender the bed to them once Tav had changed into looser night clothes. Smoke immediately settled back on it, curling on top of Storm's chest. Light grey fur on dark grey skin. Mirror acted as if joining was a chore, but he purred all the same once comfortably nestled in Tav's arms.
Until Astarion finally came to bed, and the little black and white menace started hissing at him.
"Yes, yes, I know," Astarion sighed, sitting on the bed. "If you're not happy you can leave."
Smoke walked all over Tav to go nestle comfortably near Astarion's shoulder when he lay down, and Mirror indeed fled the bed to relocate in a spot of the room where he was not in direct view of the vampire.
But there was no way Tav would ever lament the loss of the cat's warmth âMirror's dislike was mostly for show, anywayâ, not when Storm shifted at their back and his warmth enveloped them instead, not when Astarion smiled so sweetly next to them when one single dark finger tangled with his own, and certainly not when they could hear the tiefling's tail flicking happily against the side of the bed.
"Oh, it's happy rhythm time," Astarion chuckled quietly. "The 'I am with Astarion and Natavriel' happy rhythm, no less."
The quiet thumps of Storm's tail halted, and Astarion's protest came within seconds.
"Don't stop!"
"What you just said is the equivalent of telling someone 'oh you're blinking really fast when you're happy' and then expecting them to keep blinking very fast. I can't not stop now that I'm thinking about it."
"Don't fight," Tav teased, even though Storm grumbling might have been the cutest thing they'd ever heard. "Or I'll go rest somewhere else."
"No, I'm quiet," said Storm, holding them tighter. "I'm quiet."
Astarion smirked as he played with Storm's index ring, but also stayed silent. And before long, the rhythmic tapping of Storm's tail started again. Tav joined their hand with his, intertwining one finger with Astarion's in the same way Storm had, and for the second time that night, they thought there was nowhere they would rather be than here.
Because that house they had so often despised indeed felt more than a simple roof over their head, now. For the first time in thirty years, this house had finally become a home.
Whew. Been a while since I wipped xD I'm sorry guys for being so inconsistent, it's definitely not going to get better now that I am working full time again ^^
Thank you so much to everyone who tagged me in the past month, please accept a uno reverse tag, @litsenn, @optimisticgrey, @scoldingdarjeeling, @riddlerosehearts, @missfortunetherogue, @wild-surge, @lucretiouswept, @bladesingerlily 𫶠Also tagging @burnt-by-marigolds, @lilhumanoid, @coincoin-zinzin, @heartcrystal2000 and @the-starflower if and whenever you want to share something :3
Here's some more Storm and Natavriel bonding, three days into the journey, because I've been working on the epilogue to A Name is a Powerful Thing. As always with early game, Storm isn't talking much ^^ He's trying, alright? Being brain-damaged Durge is not easy x)
A peek through half open flaps let them know that Storm was resting, but still awake. They tapped two fingers against the fabric to announce their arrival.
"Hey," they greeted him softly when he sat up. "Can I sit with you?"
He nodded slowly, and they joined him on the floor of the entrance, sitting cross-legged by his side on the old rug they'd found abandoned somewhere in the Grove, and claimed for him to use.
"I have a gift for you. Well, two gifts, really."
The first one of these gifts had been loosely hanging on their thumb, and they took it off to present it to him flat on their palm. A ring, made from the one he had picked from their stash, that first night.
Rather than removing the stone from the original ring and having to embed it in a new one, Tav had simply cut out part of the gold before resizing the ring with silver âmatching Storm's existing jewellery. The barest hint of gold still surrounded the inlaid blue stone, before melting away in the silver, the mingling of the two metal forming elegant swirls along the smooth surface.
Between the dimness of his resting space, and the beard still obscuring half his face, Storm's half-smile was barely visible. Tav still answered it with one of their own when he picked up their gift.
He tried it on each of his jewellery-free fingers, flexing his hands with a frown that grew a little deeper each time. The ring escaped his clumsy fingers on three separate occasions, and Tav caught it just before it rolled out of the tent, handing it back to him silently. His balance had seemed to improve slightly over the past few days, but most of the finer motions still proved difficult. As long as he didn't ask for help or wasn't at risk of hurting himself, though, Tav was intent on letting him do most things on his own.
"I can resize it again if it doesn't fit anywhere."
A subtle shaking of his head answered their offer. Clearly, this was not the problem.
Storm then removed one of his own already present rings before replacing it with the one Tav had just given him back for the third time. He flexed his hand once more, nodded, ran his thumb over the stone, and looked back at Tav with a hint of a smile back on his face. They couldn't help but glance at his own ring, now abandoned on the floor of his tent.
"You don't have to wear this one if you'd prefer to keep your own, you know."
Another shaking of head, and Storm held their gaze intently, the way he sometimes did when he wanted to say something and struggled to do so.
"I keep⌠that one." He ran his thumb over the smooth stone again. "Thank you."
So often these past three days, he had battled with his words for no other reasons than to offer thanks and appreciation, when most of the people having no trouble speaking voiced demands and expectations instead. On the first night, when the first complete sentence to cross his lips had been a sassy retort to their teasing observation that he didn't speak much, Tav had thought âvery reasonablyâ that they might very well be willing to die for this man.
Anyone putting this much energy into humour, when the day had offered nothing but pain and fear before that point, was someone they wanted to protect at all cost.
I will make no promises as to when I'll publish that chapter ^^ "Eventually" is my ETA xD
Full pics + additional yapping under the cut (CW: mentions of depression and self-neglect)
ON THE NAUTILOID
At the very beginning of the game, I wanted Yae to wear something he could plausibly put on when going out on the streets after everyday's business; not adventuring gear, but casual clothes. I mentioned on several occasions ([1], [2], [3]; sorry I keep repeating myself, I won't stop) that prior to the events of BG3, he suffered a bad depression episode, which resulted in self-neglected.
That's why I decided to dye the outfit with the Scorched Dye â because not only he generally prefers browns and greys (and at this stage, he'd hate to dress in anything even remotely flamboyant), but also to maybe show the clothes weren't exactly fresh. His hair is grown out and messy, and everything is splattered in blood and dirt â because I doubt the nautiloid would pass even the most lenient sanitary check.
He has a knife he has found on the ship, but doesn't feel confident using it â he favours long, narrow blades. His magic is less powerful not because of the tadpole, but because of self-neglect, which resulted in malnourishment, sleep deprivation and him getting generally physically (even) weaker. But once he gets out of the pod, the tadpole puts a damper on the mental illness, and survival instinct kicks in.
(I also like to ramp up his wrinkles at this stage, just to emphasise the unhealthy look.)
THE FIRST TWO DAYS OR SO
Right after landing on the beach, Yae braids two thin strands of hair at the sides of his face â to steady himself (you'll know why after The Ebbs and Flows goes into open access) â and then cuts the rest of his hair. It still results in a messy mop, but shorter. It might not be visible in the picture, but some longer strands still escaped his ungraceful effort.
Later, he's able to wash. The clothes remain worn, but at least they're clean. He finds a rapier and immediately discards the knife in favour of the weapon he feels more comfortable with.
Also what you see in this second picture is Yae's neutral expression :)
THE GROVE
Only after reaching the grove, the party is able to stock up on supplies properly. Yae once again tries to tame his hair â by carefully and patiently getting rid of all the longer loose strands that kept getting in his face â but he refuses to let anyone else touch it and give him a proper haircut. Not yet.
Since the travel from the grove to Baldur's Gate is said to last a tenday â and since the Absolute's forces are going to make sure it'll take longer for the party â he gets some gear, newer and more suited for adventuring (he doesn't throw away his old clothes, though, he sometimes gets attached to objects :) ). He still favours practical over fancy, the goal is to survive and not to look good. And he chooses a new scarf to wrap around his neck. The additional layers separating him from the outside world make him feel more comfortable.
I swear I was just going to take "simple screenshots", but apparently those don't exist for my brain.
But I did took a step back â after frying my GPU (and then, thankfully, reviving it) â and decided to take to heart @wild-surge's advice (which wasn't even directed at me, but it's still a very sound advice; so thank you a lot for it) and experiment more with the native tools the game provides.
So no ReShade and almost no LL (mostly for posing and adjusting poses a tiny bit); the light is all native to the game.
I discovered that coming back to those basic tools with more experience, I kinda know how to use them more efficiently. Hopefully I can continue to learn.
Rating: Mature
Word count: 1,7K
Summary: Post game-events, Durge Ellith (Half-drow, bard/sorcerer, they/them) wakes up and something feels amiss..
CW: đSuggestive - Adult onlyđ Nothing too explicit but still quite cheeky + body depictions - bodyswap.
Note: I was tagged by @wild-surge (Thank you!) for this prompt : "Your Tav/Durge and their LI have been body swapped for 24 hours! How do they deal with it? What problems/issues arise?"
And it turned into a whole little fic đ
READ ON AO3
Ellith sprawled their body across the bed, limbs wrapped around the bedsheet. They were cold, which seemed strange for the summer season. But through the haze of sleep, they didnât bother considering it, and they pulled the blanket over their shoulders. A disapproving grunt rose beside them. âThatâs why we should have separate blanketsâ, the bard thought, eyes still closed. They rolled over, seeking their loverâs touch, only to find themself entangled in a cascade of silky hair.
âWhat the..â
When they opened their eyes, all they could see was an abundance of red curls imprisoning their face. Jerking away, Ellith instinctively kicked the creature laying on the bed where Astarion should have been resting. The blow was immediately followed by a sharp but melodious yelp.
The room was dark, windows covered with heavy fabrics to keep the sun from sipping in, but it didnât take long for the half-drowâs eyes to adapt to the shadows. In fact, it took no time at all, quite surprisingly. And they could see better than ever. Every piece of furniture, every greasy mark on the ground, every fold on the blankets⌠even the stains left by their own fluids were perfectly distinct on the bedsheets. They could even smell it, smell the moist and lust from the moment of intimacy they had shared a few hours before.
Passing the initial surprise, the bard focused on the form one the bed, who was staring at them with stupor.
âAstarion?â
âEllith?â
The two names resonated at the same time, perfectly in synch. And when they heard Astarionâs voice leaving their lips, Ellith pressed their hand against their mouth. As they did so, Ellith hurt their tongue with their own teeth, much sharper than usual.
The creature in front of them was a half-drow, tall but rather skinny, their naked form showing ribs and ridges where there should be flesh and fat. Their long red curls were spread on the mattress like an abstract painting, and their golden-violet eyes where shining in the darkness. Deep, healed scares were adorning their whole body and the tattoos on their face were wrinkled by a shocking expression.
It was a form they were used to seeing in mirrors. The perfect reflection of their sick flesh.
Given the way this Ellith was staring at them, agape, the real Ellith didnât dare look down at the body they were inhabiting. All they could say that there was something wiggling between their thighs, and they could already picture what it was.
âOh, noâŚâ they whispered, swallowing painfully.
âYou look amazing.â The other Ellith purred with their own signature purr, gawking at them shamelessly. âI mean... I look amazing.â
The bard rushed to the mirror standing in the corner of the room, only to see⌠nothing. Nothing at all.
All right.
âWhat did you expect, darling?â the other Ellith chuckled, lying back on the bed.
The bard was connecting the dots, but the initial shock wasn't receding.Â
"That kick was unnecessary though..." The other Ellith winced, massaging their thigh, but there was a hint of amusement and endearment in that voice. "How dare you damage that lovely body of yours?"
"I... didn't... What in the hells, Astarion?!"
He laughed.
How could they â- he⌠HE be so relaxed?
After a few more seconds of bewilderment, the bard finally accepted their fate and looked down at their own body: Flat chest, pale skin, muscular but thin⌠Ellith's eyes lingered on the penis, hanging there, free and⌠well, a little sticky.
âItâs all right sweetheart, you can play with it.â Ellithâs voice rose from the bed, much more amused than should be appropriate in such circumstances.
The bard hadnât said a word, too afraid to hear Astarionâs voice in their mouth again. When they refocused on the other Ellith â that is, the real Astarion â he was gently cupping the tiny breasts of his new form, toying with every little curve.
âHeyâŚ!â the bard scolded him, once more surprised by their new voice. âDonât you dare arouse my body now!â
Startled, the real Astarion quickly ungrabbed himself â or themself â and grinned innocently at his clone. âApologies, darling. You know how much I love them.â
âHow can you take it soâŚ. lightly?â the bard burst out, their voice reaching Astarionâs adorable high-pitch note. They forced themselves not to marvel at it.
He kept on grinning.
Ellith understood.
âOh gods, Astarion⌠what have you done?â
His grin turned into a mischievous smirk, which allowed Ellith to realise how unsettling they looked when they were wearing the same expression.
âHonestly darling, I had no idea this would work.â
Ellith let out a deep sigh.
âDonât worry, itâs only for 24 hours.â
âAh!â the bard rolled their eyes. âAnd that should reassure me?!â
They walked towards the bed and sat down, rubbing their forehead. And thatâs when the bard realised how famished they were. Not the same kind of hunger they could feel after days of self-inflicted starvation. No. It was deeper. As if something was gnawing at their bowels. Their tongue rolled over their fangs.
Astarion didnât seem to have noticed anything, since he was playing lazily with the little bush on his crotch.
âCould you please leave my hairs alone?â The bard hissed.
Stilling his hands, Astarion crooked his head in their direction. âYouâre hungry, arenât you?â
Of course he could see it, if not feel it.
âYES! And mortified, and frustrated, and⌠why did you do this without telling me first?â
He reached out to wrap his arms around the bard inhabiting his body. It felt warm, but the smell of his flesh was more tantalising than it had ever been. Ellith was almost drooling.
So thatâs how it felt? Thatâs what he had to learn to control? Somehow, it felt almost more intimidating than the Urge itself.
âI told you⌠I wasnât sure it would work. And besides, itâs much more fun to watch you struggle through this.â
âYou, bastard.â
He pressed a long, warm and wet kiss on their cheek. âYou look so pretty.â
âI look just like you.â
âPrecisely.â
The bard tried to repress a giggle but failed dramatically. They knew Astarion had been yearning to see his face again, it just felt weird to be the one wearing that face. Inappropriate, even.
The gentle pressure of those soft little breasts against their back wasnât unpleasant though; warm and comforting. Â One slender arm sneaked around Ellithâs waist to rest on the tight belly. âA chance I had a good meal a few hours ago, or else youâd be positively starving, darling.â
âYou mean this could be worse?â
He laughed loudly, barks dripping with sarcasm, and his fingers squeezed the flesh on their hipbone. âOh, sweetheart⌠Thatâs only the basic condition.â
Oh.
Now Ellith understood better. Not only Astarion himself, but the other spawns too, back in the cells. They hadnât really given them a second thought after watching them leave for the Underdark. Now they could clearly see the danger they represented.
âDonât be mad, my loveâŚâ He whispered softly into their ear, his voice much more vulnerable than expected. âI just wanted to know how it felt to be⌠delivered from my own body.â
It made sense.
Perfect sense.
The bard relaxed, painfully aware of what it meant for Astarion to experience this: feeling alive, warm, unchained from hunger, in a body free from his past. How could they be mad at him?
Ellith looked at the clock. As usual theyâd slept all day and it was already the end of the afternoon.
âWhy donât you go outside, Astarion?â They offered, their voice now soft and gentle. âAnd enjoy the sun before dusk?â
His eyes, golden bright and purple, shone and sparkled in the darkness of the room. âI⌠yes⌠Yes! I can do that.â
A large smile crawled on his lips as he jumped from the bed, the slender body he was inhabiting moving gracefully, which allowed Ellith to admire the lovely shape of their own curves. Their ass could have benefited more flesh, they thought, but there was something adorable in the flatness of their butt-cheeks.
Astarion rushed to the wardrobe to pick up something to wear, and of course, he chose that dress, the one he always wanted Ellith to wear. A gift from him, and his favourite one. It made the bard smile, and they too stood up to put on Astarionâs shirt. âIâll stay here in the meantime. I'll have a bath or something.â
As he clasped the last button, he walked up to them and pressed another kiss on their cheek. âAll right dear, Iâll be back in an hour or soâŚâ He grinned, obviously excited by the sunlight waiting for him outside. âDonât you get too cheeky with that body while Iâm out⌠We donât want it to be too exhausted when Iâll come back, do we?â
An impromptu giggle, which sounded weird through Astarionâs voice, escaped the bardâs throat. âDonât worry, love, Iâll keep your body safe and sound, and I wonât venture too far in my⌠exploration. Not without you, at least.â
"I know, I trust you not to." He smiled, his hands resting on their cool torso. "And if you behave, I might let you experience a brief nibble, just enough to satiate that little craving of yours."Â
He winked, clearly even more excited by what would come after dusk, and Ellith felt their new member harden at the perspective of it. An uncommon blush painted their pale cheeks, and of course, Astarion didnât miss any part of it.
âMy eager little slutâŚâ He purred with Ellithâs deepest, sultry voice. âBe patient, will you?â
Leaning against them, he kissed their lips â or his own â with a soft moan, tongue sneaking in as to have a little taste of himself. Their growing erection was almost painful now. He pulled away and stared lovingly at his own face.
âYouâre not making it easierâŚâ Ellith whispered as they perfectly mimicked his signature smirk, glancing down at what was standing proudly between their legs, half-hidden by the loose shirt. âBut Iâll find my out of⌠this.â
The laughter that left his lips was endearing and melodious at the same time, and Ellith couldnât help marveling at their own voice. âIâm sure youâll know how to deal with it, darling.â
With an amused snort, Ellith squeezed his butt â theirs â and gave it a gentle spanking. âNow go, my love. And enjoy the sunlight while you can. I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here, my love.â
Itâs Disability Pride Month! And you know what that means, right? No? Well it has been ages and Iâve long been casually planning a series of short (maybe) essays around the parallels to disability - and the clearer disability representation - throughout Baldurâs Gate 3 in both the characters and the story. So what better month than this to finally work on them and bring them out?
Whilst I do have some personal lived experience with disability, this doesnât account for every type of condition or all the ways that different disabilities affect so many of us. Two people with the same condition can have quite a different lived experience, and even the condition itself can vary significantly. So what I mean to say here, loves, is that if you have a differing opinion, or thereâs something Iâve missed, or youâd just like to add your thoughts - please do just that!Â
I welcome hearing from all of you about how you relate to the game through your own lived experiences, and what the characters can mean to you. Representation isnât always clear, but honestly I think when we look closer we can see parts of all kinds of experiences reflected through the characters and story.
So, what I intend to do is create a series of essays, looking in depth at the potential parallels we can see in each of the main companions that Iâm most familiar with (unfortunately I donât know Minthara well enough to include her in this, but I would welcome input from others!) and then perhaps some of the other characters. (Edit - all pieces completed for now, next year I may add more!)
These pieces are not meant to be diagnostic in any way, or claiming âthis character has this illnessâ, but instead is a look at how the characters and their stories and details can be similar to real world disability and health, and how different people might find ways to relate to their experiences through this.
Links to the Disability Discussion Posts
Karlach - Terminal Illness (Completed)
Wyll - Sudden Physical Change (Traumatic Incident) (Completed)
Gale - Chronic Illness, Autism (Completed)
Astarion - Complex Needs, Specialised Diets, and Addiction (Completed)
Laeâzel - Ableism, Eugenics, and More Neurodiversity (Completed)
Shadowheart - Memory Difficulties, Depression, Fluctuating Chronic Pain (Completed)
Halsin - Carer Fatigue and The End Of The Path Of Healing (Completed)
Gortash - Invisible Disability and Visible Mobility Aids (Completed)
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I'm not sure how quickly I'll get through posting these as I'm having a tough time with my own physical health right now - isn't that ironic? - but I do intend to get through at least this list by the end of July in between fic writing and other projects.
If you would like to suggest other characters, storylines, or disability related topics in BG3 please let me know! I'd love to hear how you all relate to the game and the characters from these angles too, and I might be willing to add things to this list if I can.
Lia's Disability Experience
As a little peek behind the curtain (and for full disclosure that I'm not an abled person here to talk over disabled experiences) without giving you too much of myself on the single plate, my lived experience is with an unpredictable chronic pain condition as well as a few other chronic illnesses and disability issues. I'm a wheelchair user, partially ambulatory (essentially I can shamble around in my home with assistance but outside the house I rely on my wheels), and my most prevalent symptom is constant pain.
I have made vague references to these things in a few works and the experience does provide me with some fic inspiration for a couple of works. I'm far too familiar with Loviatar's embrace, but I feel this is something that can be used to my advantage at times like these where I can examine the characters and storylines from angles that abled people might not consider.
Your Input!
I really would love to hear from all of you - what other characters do you feel reflect some of the lived experiences of disabled people? Are there any that you connected to? Did you find the game was accessible for you to play as a disabled person? What do you wish you saw more of in the game or in games in general?
This month really is an important one for awareness and understanding, as well as finding things in ourselves to be proud of that don't fall into the categories of "inspiration porn" or the kinds of internalised ableism that can drive some of us to push too hard to work against our conditions instead of with and around them leading to more issues.
Remember - The Disabled Community is the one minority that anyone could become a part of at any time. Advocating for our rights could also be advocating for your own future or that of a loved one.
Small addition, even though he's not a companion: I'll never stop lauding this post about Doni and autism by @elceewunjo. In my recent replay, I was able to read his thoughts to learn about his sensory sensitivity and I felt so seen.
Thank you @unovafarm for the tag! [post] â¤ď¸â¨ Such a beautiful name for a beautiful OC! I recommend everyone to have a read.
For Briar, the meaning is straightforward. She is a forest child â a wild thorn bush that grows where it pleases, protective yet capable of bearing sweet fruit. Though the name veers toward the stereotypical, I was inspired by my own childhood memories
Before I was old enough for school, my grandparents lived in a house they had built into the side of a hill. The basement, which functioned like a second floor, was only accessible walking down the slope. The main house extended over this pass with a balcony, forming a secluded little alcove. There, they cultivated a sprawling blackberry bush. Every season it fruited we would harvest the berries by the bowl. They had also hung a small swing beneath the overhang. I fondly remember idling the hours away on it, and sneaking berries from the nearest vines.
Briar embodies the part of me that delights in the natural world. The cresting waterfalls, the bright song of birds, and the crisp breath of mountain air in the early morning. Unlike me, she is far more open and unreserved in expressing that love and care. Her name reflects that.
She doesn't have a family name at present. In fact, it suits her better to be without.
I discussed this topic a few months back for Lynette here , but it is outdated & lacking the depth it deserves. I'll fix it up someday, maybe when I do a masterpost.
Thank you for the latest wip tags @missfortunetherogue and @lilhumanoid <3
Always writing more Storm (aka not at all what I was supposed to write in my self imposed schedule that I am incapable of following). This time with Shadowheart (and Scratch), early in act I :3
For context : she's just told him she has memories missing.
Scratch returned to her, stick proudly held between his teeth, and wagged his tail while resisting Shadowheart's attempt to get it from him. After a few minutes of playful wrestle and gentle growling on the dog's part, Shadowheart won the right to throw the stick again and Scratch ran after it when it disappeared between the trees.
As soon as the dog was out of sight, her expression grew serious again, and her careful green eyes settled on Storm. He hadn't asked anything, and she seemed to appreciate that, which worked just fine for him. The less talking, the better. But after a few moments of pondering, she was the one picking up conversation again.
"Did you catch the name of my faith, a few days ago?" she ventured. "When I was talking with Tav, in the goblin camp."
He nodded. "Sharran."
Not that the word meant much to him, but it had felt⌠familiar. For some obscure reason.
Shadowheart cringed almost imperceptibly, and he thought maybe the way he'd said it had offended her. But his words took too much time to come, and she started talking again before he could apologise.
"It isn't uncommon for those who follow the path of my Dark Lady to have some memories suppressed, in order to better serve her."
He frowned at her, confusion mingling with his curiosity.
"On purpose?"
"Yes. It is one of the purest acts of devotion, for us."
How nice must it be, to have such conviction in something other than oneself. Certainly Shadowheart did not doubt her every action, not when her chin was raised so defiantly, wordlessly daring him to speak against her beliefs. Had she expected him to offer judgement?
"I remember almost nothing of my life, apart from my faith, and my mission," she continued when he remained silent. "The things I liked before, the people I used to know⌠they are all lost to me."
The dog reappeared and for a few moments, Shadowheart was nothing more than a joyful young woman again. But her eyes retained a certain heaviness to them, now that they had broached the topic of her past. And yet⌠hadn't she just said she had chosen this? Why should she be sad, if it was something she had done willingly?
"You want them back," he stated. "Your memories."
Her eyes avoided his, but her bearings remained proud. "It is not my place to wish for the things my Lady is safekeeping for me. I will be offered back my memories once I fulfil my mission."
No pressure tagging @spillingteanotpermitted, @burnt-by-marigolds, @riddlerosehearts and @litsenn if you have something you wanna share đŠś
