#ugh i am thinking about wyll again

[in-the-belly-of-dragons]

I truly believe that a part of Wyll considers snapping and going apeshit, but then he stops, takes few deep breaths, and makes an active choice to maintain who he is. I think that a huge part of his character and how he got through the years with Mizora is just working really hard not to let her break him. He is the way he is because his attitude is the only thing he can control and he'll be damnrd if he let the bullshit keeps happening to him, break him and his sense of self. That sense of self is all he's got so he's gonna find the best in every situation

And yeah he is the closest to being the Hero Archetype out of the origin characters! But I also think that is his choice, he actively works on being a dashing hero out of adventure novels (I bet he sometimes cosplays as his favourite book characters as he's doing a dramatic entrance speech). It's easy to dismiss him as the Hero Guy but he's actually more than that!

I think he's commitment to being a dashing hero figure is a part of how he maintains his sense of self with all of Mizora's bullshit and after getting kicked out by his dad

I think a person like him is really needed in a group like the origin characters, he would bring them together and help them to not succumb to their darkness

I think when people dismiss wyll as being the Normal Guy companion they are overlooking a key piece of his character which is that yeah he's pretty normal in comparison to the rest of these messes but have u considered how much Effort it would take to stay that normal while putting up with mizora every day of your life. This guy isn't normal because he's boring, he's normal because he has moral fortitude rivaling that of every god. The fact that he's still so normal after what 9 years of being trapped in an insane psychosexual torment nexus is a HEROIC ACHIEVEMENT. This one will only make sense to the disco elysium fans out there but Wyll's volition stat is through the fucking roof. Nothing can shake this guy and it's not through luck or chance it is through more strength of character than any other person ever born. Wyll ravengard u will always be famous

[sabersandsnipers]

A Stray on the Road

Author’s Note: I work with a lot of the pediatric population as a nurse, so I thought about what Halsin and Astarion’s reactions would be to me having to protect and take care of every kid I find lol

The day was grueling. The sticky sensation of blood covers every inch of your skin. Aches and pains rattle your bones, and the road seems endless as your group searches for a good place to set up camp. The only thought keeping you going is that of curling up between Astarion and Halsin later. 

“Gods, this is hell,” Karlach complains. 

Wyll responds with some snide comment, but you’re only half listening, because you’re approaching a rather violent scene. Wagons are tipped over, and bodies litter the road. You slow as you approach, noticing a small figure sitting by a pair of bodies. 

Your gaze sharpens, and you see it’s a young girl. No older than 5. Tears stream down her cheeks as she sits by a pair of dead bodies. Your heart sinks as you realize it’s probably her parents. 

“Hang back, guys,” you say. You fear the approach of such a large group will frighten her. Attempting to wipe the blood off your face, you walk up to the girl. 

Her clothes are tattered, and you notice she has a few cuts lining her arms and legs. You crouch next to her.

“Hey,” you say softly. 

Big beautiful brown eyes meet yours. Something twists in your chest. 

“What’s your name?” you ask.

She sniffles. “Eowyn.”

“Eowyn, do you have family nearby?”

She shakes her head. “No. And I don’t know where I am.” 

Her voice trembles, and your heart breaks for her. You look back to your companions. Most won’t mind her staying with them, except for Astarion, who will be annoyed by the young presence.Your friends look back at you expectantly, wondering what your next move is. 

“Would you like to stay with me and my friends for the night?” you ask her.

She looks to the group behind you, and you half expect her to run away in fear with how harsh they look. 

But her expression doesn’t change, she simply nods her head. 

“Do you think you can walk?” you ask her.

She shakes her head. 

You smile at her. “That’s okay. Halsin?”

The elf approaches. Eowyn stares up at him, eyes wide. 

“Is it alright if my friend carries you?” you ask her. 

She nods. “He’s so tall.” Her eyes are filled with wonder.

“He is,” you say with a chuckle. You look to Halsin and he nods. He reaches down and picks up the child, placing her on his shoulder. 

“Hold on, child,” he says. There’s a slight smile on her face, but then darkness fills her eyes again. 

Your group ventures forth once more. The sun is beginning to set, casting shadows along the road. But you can’t help but admire the beautiful colors streaking across the sky. 

Astarion falls into step beside you. “Picked up another stray, I see.”

You nudge your shoulder against him. “You were a stray once too.” 

He gives a half smile. “I’m just worried you’re going to burden yourself with her safety.”

You let out a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t like her presence. “She has no one, Astarion.” 

He doesn’t say anymore, but you can feel the tenseness between you two. Your relationship is still being navigated. But even with your difference in values, you couldn’t stop yourselves from being drawn to each other. 

A giggle pulls you from your thoughts. You look back to see Eowyn playing with Halsin’s braids. He’s grinning back at her, thoroughly enjoying her laughs. The sight sparks a warmth within you, and you can’t stop the smile from growing on your lips.

“Ugh.” Astarion comments. “Does he always have to be so…Halsin?” 

You shoot him a half hearted glare. Despite him being agreeable to Halsin joining your relationship, he always seems taken aback by his general goodness and willingness to help others. 

Your trek continues, Astarion allowing your hands to brush ever so slightly as you walk the dusty road. 

The fire crackles as Karlach throws more wood onto the flames. A warm stew has been shared amongst your group, Eowyn getting a healthy portion. Conversations scatter around, commenting on the latest tavern you stopped at, or how a fight went along the way. 

You sit on a log between Eowyn and Halsin, but Astarion sits over by his tent. He’s reading one of his books, sipping on some wine. 

Every time you glance to Eowyn, you notice her watching Astarion. Her gaze is curious, and she seems completely enthralled with him. Not that you can blame her. You’re completely enthralled as well. 

“He’s so beautiful,” she suddenly comments. You smile at her and then look at your love.

“Isn’t he?” you respond. “He’s awfully nice too, to the people he likes.”

“I saw you kissing earlier. Are you married?” she asks. 

You laugh. “No, but I do love him very much.”

Confusion crosses her face, as if she can’t comprehend how you can be in love but not married. She takes another bite of her stew. Her eyes flicker back to Astarion. 

A few minutes later she taps you on the shoulder. You turn away from your conversation with Halsin as she leans over to you. 

“Do you think he would read me a bedtime story?” she asks in a whisper. 

You grin, and glance at Astarion. Although he would most definitely deny her request, he can’t deny you. 

“Yes. You should go over and ask. Tell him I sent you.” 

Her expression brightens. She gets right up and makes her way over to Astarion, who doesn’t acknowledge her until she’s standing right in front of him. He finally looks up, his expression mildly annoyed. Eowyn talks for a few moments and then he shoots a glare in your direction. 

You raise an eyebrow at him, daring him to say no. He bites the inside of his lip. The seconds pass as you wait for his response. 

Finally, his body relaxes and he nods his head. Eowyn sits down on the cushion next to him, snuggling up right close to him. Although Astarion tenses a bit, he doesn’t push her away. You watch them for a bit, admiring how adorable they look together. 

A pair of hands find their way to your shoulders. 

A familiar voice whispers in your ear. “I’m going to bathe in the river. Would you like to join me?” Halsin asks. He places a hot kiss against your neck. 

“Halsin, the day I say no to that question, I want you to push me off a cliff, because clearly I’ve gone mad,” you respond. 

A breathy laugh caresses your skin. You give him your hand and the two of you make your way to the water. 

When you return from your excursion with Halsin, skin still tingling, you’re astounded by the sight before you. Astarion and Eowyn still sit together, except Eowyn is sound asleep in his lap. Astarion looks down at her, his hand resting lightly on her hair. You can’t read his expression. 

When you approach Astarion, you crouch down and place a kiss to his temple. He smiles at you, and it makes your heart flutter just like the first time. 

“I can have Halsin take her to my tent,” you offer, brushing back a strand of his white curls. 

He hesitates, looking down at Eowyn. “I think we’ll be okay. She looks so comfortable.” 

She’s curled right up, her head resting on his chest. Her face looks so serene after all the horrors she’s experienced today. 

“Okay. I’ll go spend the night with Halsin then. Just come get me if you need me,” you tell him. 

“I think we’ll be okay, darling,” he replies. 

You smile and kiss him goodnight. As you make your way to Halsin’s tent, you take one last look over your shoulder, and allow yourself a moment to admire the two of them. And it brings you great joy to know Astarion is finding just as much comfort as she is. 

[cactusnymph]

for the touches ask game, how about "3. hugging while twirling around"? for anyone!

Fuck, she's on fire.

Not literally this time, but emotionally. She can touch people again. She can go around and shove people and clap her hand on their backs and kiss and hug and fuck and punch people in the face in a friendly bar brawl without making their face look like a medium raw beef steak.

Fuck. Yes.

She feels the intense need to kiss Dammon square on the mouth but she hugs him instead and hoists him up and holds him way longer than might be appropriate but he chuckles and hugs her back and it's the fucking best feeling in the world.

Gods, it's so good to be alive.

"This is the best day. This is. The best. Day!", she exclaims, over and over again and beams. She can pick flowers. She could scritch a dog behind its ears right now! Holy shit!

The possibilities are endless and Karlach feels happiness bubble inside her like thick lava, ready to burst out of the ground. She's a literal volcano of happiness. Fuck yeah.

Karlach hugs everyone. She hugs Gale and Tav and Shadowheart, then she hugs Dammon again, then she rolls around in some grass just for good measure. It doesn't leave a burning trail of ash and embers behind and Karlach is so fucking stoked she almost starts crying.

"Oh my gods, I need to find someone to spoon tonight. I'd spoon the fucking Elderbrain to be totally honest with you. I am so ready to cuddle. Holy shit!"

"Please don't spoon the Elderbrain", Gale says weakly and Tav laughs so hard that they choke on their own spit and Shadowheart has to use a spell to make them stop heaving. Karlach loves them all so much. She loves her friends and the whole world and Dammon and this grass tickling her skin and the feeling of the wind in her face.

It wouldn't even matter if she died tomorrow because she's so fucking happy to be in this very moment. It would all have been worth it just for this.

Karlach whistles and sings the entire time they walk back to camp, from time to time grabbing Tav's or Shadowheart's hands to hold and swing between them like a happy child.

First thing she'll do back at camp is find Scratch and pat him for half an hour. At least that's what Karlach thinks until they arrive and the first thing she sees is Astarion and Wyll standing next to each other as Astarion works to fix a rip on Wyll's shirt.

The heart in her chest that's not really a heart roars with affection and she loves Scratch, she loves him so much, but she also loves these men and now she can touch them.

Fuck.

Karlach doesn't think twice, she barrels forward, jumping over the campfire with ease past Lae'zel who's reading a weird metal disc with a furrowed brow and then she's there, startling both of them.

"What in the—", Astarion starts and drops his needle but he can't finish his question because Karlach already picked them both up. Gods, they're both so skinny. She smushes them together and laughs and maybe she also cries a little as she turns around with both of them in her arms, their feet dangling off the ground.

Astarion protests and struggles against her grip like a grumpy cat while Wyll laughs with her.

"It worked!", he exclaims, his voice as excited as Karlach feels.

"It worked", she cries and hugs them tighter, turning two more times before setting them back down and taking a step back. Gods, it's hard to let them go. Fuck she wants to hug them again immediately.

"Well", Astarion says and pretends to dust off his shirt, his face purposefully nonchalant but his cheeks all flushed, "I see your little outing was successful, darling."

"Fuck yes it was. I will spoon you so hard tonight", she says and pumps her fist in the air. Astarion blinks while Wyll chuckles.

"Spoon?", he echoes. Karlach grins so hard that her cheeks hurt.

"Yeah. Spooning. Cuddling. Holding tenderly. Whatever you wanna call it", she says and nods before twirling around by herself again. "I can hug people again!"

"Ugh. Fine, I guess", Astarion says, doing his best to sound as if he's doing Karlach a huge favor. Wyll shakes his head but he's still smiling.

"That means you won't get cold tonight, my pointy-eared friend", Wyll says. Astarion narrows his eyes at Wyll.

"I am dead. I don't get cold", he proclaims and stalks off, leaving Wyll's shirt unfinished. Karlach beams at him as Wyll hugs her again.

"I am so happy for you", he whispers and she holds him tight.

"Me too, Wyll. Me too."

feel free to send me more of these <3

[jessiemeows]

Underdark Trysts

A/N: Hello! Although I am holding off on my long fic. I decided I want to write more little drabbles that I believe I'll eventually add to my long fic. I want to let everyone know I never really written anything with smut so this is my first time lol. I hope it's at least decent enough. I made this in Astarion's POV because throughout my upcoming fic I want it to be divided from Eris' prespective and Astarion's :)

R: E for explicit!!

Content Warning: fingering, PIV, cum inside without protection, hints of him maybe becoming overly jealous?? a little too dominant at one point

Word Count: 1300

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F! Dark Urge Tiefling, My OC Eris, Selunite Cleric/Paladin

Summary: After completing the Soverign Spaw's quest to rid the rot of duergar that killed his young, Eris and Astarion are looting a small hut together. Astarion gets turned on and wants to have a quickie. His simple plan fell apart weeks ago (even before the tiefling party) but he's refusing to realize it and keeps blaming his tadpole for any feelings he gets.

Eris scrunched up her face, nose twitching in distaste. "Ugh, do these duergar eat anything but mushrooms?" She rummaged through wicker baskets and rotted crates, her eyes scanning for anything of use. Astarion stood with his arms crossed, his lean frame leaning casually against the rough-hewn wooden planks, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched her and her furry friend, Scratch search the hut. A short respite after he and his companions had just finished defeating a group of Absolute-worshiping duergar who had slain the young myconid followers of Sovereign Spaw, and were forced to kill the rogue myconid Sovereign Glut, who had sought to overthrow Spaw. 

Astarion chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know, darling, we are in the Underdark. I'm pretty sure that's all they eat."

Eris spun around, a pouty look on her face. "Well, it's gross. I don't think I've ever liked mushrooms and that's saying something since I don't remember much. One of these days I hope we can find a nice dessert. Maybe a chocolate fudge cake!"

Astarion's smile grew. "Hmmm, I'm not sure that will happen, my sweet but maybe." He couldn't help but find her pout adorable.

Eris turned back to face a couple of shelves, but they were just out of her reach. "A little help?" she pleaded, looking back at Astarion. He snorted and sauntered over, pulling down the book and holding it just out of her reach. "Go on, take it."

Eris glared at him. "Astarion, I swear by the moonmaiden’s grace I will smite you if you don't give it to me." He laughed and relented, handing her the book. "thank you" she muttered, rolling her eyes and stashing the book in her bag of holding. Scratch followed her as she moved to the next area of the small hut.

Astarion's breath caught as he drank in the sight of her. The warm glow of the mushrooms illuminated her freckled now blood-stained skin and fiery red eyes. Her blood soaked low-cut armor and form-fitting corset accentuated the swell of her breasts, just staring at her he could feel his trousers begin to tighten as his arousal grew... He needed her. Now. Straining to listen, he heard the others down by the Ebonlake. Lae'zel and Shadowheart were arguing about the artifact yet again, while Karlach, Wyll, and Gale discussed what they suspected lay across the lake - likely more Absolute cultists. This was wonderful because no one was paying any attention to the two of them.

He turned to her, trying to sound casual. "Darling, turn around I found something." Eris spun around, curiosity in her eyes. And then his lips were on hers, needy and demanding. Without hesitation, he let his hands wander down her waist and firmly grasped her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. He could tell she was startled, but she leaned into the kiss, letting out a little giggle at his eagerness. 

"Astarion," she warned, but he deepened the kiss. "They are all busy, no one will know," he muttered against her lips. He trailed kisses down her neck, feeling the slight bumps of the bite scars he had left the previous night during their nightly trysts, when he drank her blood. Gods, she was so sweet, allowing him to drink from her each night. He was fortunate she was a cleric, and that he gifted her the amulet of Silvanus back at the grove or she would have been left exhausted every day. A soft moan escaped her as he kissed her collarbone, his hands squeezing her breasts.

"Shhh, pet, as much as I adore your sweet moans, those sounds are meant for my ears alone. But, do you want more?" he whispered against her skin. She nodded and he pulled back, looking at her. "hmmm what was that? I'll need words, little love."

Astarion smiled as Eris whispered, "Yes, please, Starry, I want more." He pressed his lips against her skin, then murmured, "Good girl."

Astarion swiftly scooped up Eris and placed her on a somewhat stable, broken desk. He shooed away Scratch without delay. With deft fingers, Astarion quickly unlaced and pulled down Eris' trousers and pink laced underwear. Eris was already so wet, but Astarion wanted her to beg just a little more. His icy fingers found their way into her folds, pumping slowly inside her, moving rhythmically. As he kissed her neck he quickened his pace. Hearing her quiet whimpers, he paused the kisses to see Eris concentrating on not being too loud.

Astarion placed his free hand over Eris' mouth. "Moan for me, my little moon. I'll make sure no one hears you," he whispered smugly. He savored watching the writhing tiefling submit to his dominance, reveling in her willing surrender. Only he was allowed to do this, no one else- not Gale, not Wyll, not Lae'zel, no other tiefling that had hit on her back at the grove, only him. His simple plan was succeeding tremendously.

"A-Astarion," Eris mumbled through his fingers. 

"Yes, love?" Astarion cooed. "I need you to use your words. You know how dearly I adore your sweet voice."

Eris struggled to force out the words, "P-please.". 

"Love, I don't know what you want," Astarion teased. Eris pleaded, "I want you, Starry. Please, I need you."

He wasted no time unlacing his own trousers and pulling Eris close. With a covetous murmur, "Only because you asked so sweetly," he plunged his hard, aching cock into her folds. Eris squealed, but Astarion quickly covered her mouth to stifle the sound. He began thrusting slowly, allowing her to adjust to his length, before gradually picking up the pace, pounding into her harder. Eris' tail curled around his leg as her long nails gripped the collar of his jacket.

Astarion could feel Eris's body tightening around him as they neared climax. Her fingers were now wrapped his curls. "Fuck, you feel so good," he muttered breathlessly. His thrusts grew sloppy and ragged as he reached his release inside her.

Both breathing heavily he rested his head against her shoulder, still inside her. She played with his curls, then gave him a small but sweet kiss on his forehead, just as she had done back at the tiefling party. That simple gesture grounded him, keeping his mind from wandering as it had then. He didn't want to wander; he wanted to savor this time with her, for he truly enjoyed it. Cazador wouldn't whisk away this sweet, lost, murderous fool of a selunite. They were both safe. 

Astarions ears perked up when he heard soft foot steps moving closer to them, giving Eris a nervous look the two quickly jumped apart, hurriedly pulling their pants back up and trying to look nonchalant. Shadowheart entered the doorway, saying, "Hey, are you guys almost done looking around in here? The rest of us are ready to head back to camp. I don't know about you, but I need a bath after that Mushroom got his guts all over me."

"Haha! Yes, we're done. Just give me a minute to organize my bag, and we'll be out," Eris replied quickly, her face flushed with embarrassment. Astarion chuckled to himself, amused by her discomfort.

"Okay, I'll be out here with Gale. The other three have already started making their way back," Shadowheart said, her confused expression clearly indicating she didn't want to know what had just happened. With that, she left the doorframe.

Astarion looked at Eris smugly, teasing, "Look at you, you little minx of a Selunite, lying to your best friend. Maybe the Sharran and I are bad influences on you."

Eris lightly punched his arm. "I really don't think she wants to know what just happened," she teased back.

"Probably not. Alright, let's go, before you make me want to go for another round," Astarion said, his voice low and seductive.

Eris walked through the doors ahead of him, and Astarion paused for a moment, his stomach filled with butterflies. He quickly shook off the feeling and followed Eris, muttering, "Stupid tadpole is playing tricks again."

[thatfreshi]

"When I Feel Used" (Uni AU P. 3)

I am sorry for the angst in advance, my finger slipped

tw - references to alcohol and sex, lots of yelling, hints at abuse

@justporo

The two of you are silent, and you can sense some kind of negative energy on him. You're not sure if it's anger or shame, or maybe both. All you know is he had sex with you, but didn't really want to. It makes you feel a little gross, trying to figure out what even happened. Astarion hides it well though, shifting through many different personas constantly.

"All that and you didn't even get any champagne."

He makes the joke, hoping it will evoke some kind of laugh from you. You say nothing. Instead, you get out at the next stoplight. He doesn't stop you. It doesn't take too long to get back to campus. Once outside your dorm, you are met yet again with intense arguing.

"Damnit Karlach, you can't skate out here! How many times do I have to tell you?!"

A man with short braids is shouting at a muscle-heavy woman, who is currently shredding on the stair railing.

"Why? Because your silly admin mom told you I can't? Just relax already, learn to have some fun."

The woman then sticks her tongue out at him.

"Why, I should tell Coach!"

"You wouldn't. You're too busy being the uptight SGA president to visit the gym."

"Karlach, please just go skate somewhere else."

"Wyll it's almost 11 pm. Where else would you like me to go?"

"Anywhere! Quite literally anywhere else!"

The woman, who you notice has shaved sides in her hair, finally sees you.

"Hey! You wanna come skate?"

She shouts across the little clearing in front of the dorm.

"Okay, no, do not encourage her please."

At this point, you try desperately to ignore them. It's been such a strange night already, and you just want to sleep. As long as Lae'zel and Shadowheart haven't burnt down the room yet. You pass by the man, who places a kind hand on your shoulder.

"It's Wyll by the way, your SGA president. Let me know if you need anything."

He gives a soft smile, and then turns to yell at Karlach again, but she's already gone.

"Ugh, damn you Karlach!"

When you finally get back to the room, it's oddly silent. Instead of trying to decide whether they're asleep or murdered each other, you simply go to your room, and head to bed almost immediately. You sit there for a while though, thoughts about the night buzzing in your head. Perhaps you'd tell Shadowheart about it tomorrow, see what she makes of the whole thing.

While you would've loved to wake up to the peaceful sun through your window, or perhaps maybe even your alarm clock, you're awoken to Lae'zel and Shadowheart screaming at 5 am.

"You know my leg is fucked, you can't just trip me like that!"

"Oh, seems I didn't notice. Whoopsies."

You can practically hear the smile on Shadowheart's face, until you instead hear the two start to get physical. Dreadfully picking up your legs and getting out of bed, you open the door and stomp down the hall.

"God damn it, can we not right now!"

They pause and stare at you. Lae'zel has Shadowheart in a chokehold with her elbow, and Shadowheart had just kicked her in the leg.

"I already had basically the worst night ever, and I would've liked to sleep in and not think about it, but no! Here you two are, screaming at each other! Does no one in this school know how to act?!"

With that, you head towards the front door, about to leave in your pajamas to simply get out of the dorm. When you slam the door open, it makes a loud thunk against someone who apparently just tried to knock on the door.

"Ugh, and why are you here!"

The pale 'red-eyed' man from last night was at your door for some reason.

"Because I'm trying to sleep, and these bitches are being too loud!"

Astarion yells over your shoulder at them.

"I forgot you were in this room. Sorry you have to deal with them."

You try to keep yourself from exploding from all the overwhelming stress.

"Respectfully, you cannot invite me out, introduce me to some fucking freak, admit you were trying to get me to work for said freak, and then fuck me, and then be a fucking weirdo about it!"

So much for not exploding.

"Wait, you two fucked?"

"Shadowheart, read the room!"

Lae'zel hisses.

"Yeah Shadowheart."

Astarion swipes a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"You were the one that started dragging us outside..."

He nonchalantly looks at his acrylics.

"Yes! Because yeah you're hot, and it was a weird stressful situation, and I haven't gotten any in a while, okay!"

He sort of just, stares at you wide-eyed.

"And then you thought 'oh, I'll just act like I'm completely uninterested afterwards, because that's normal people behavior,' like what's up with that? Didn't even want to at least say 'you know Tav, that was pretty good sex.' I mean I'm sure you've had better, I'm a little rusty, but damn! So yeah, maybe it was hot, but it kind of pisses me off when I feel used."

Astarion is entirely silent. The two women behind you are now no longer fighting, but instead staring at you while you rant at him.

"Oh, and another thing! I know you think you have all this pretty boy privilege, but you think you can just bribe a cop with sexual favors? Because what the fuck was that? But nooooo, you'll never get in trouble for anything because you're the city's favorite femboy. I can't even go an entire hour without having some article come across my feed with you and your six 'brothers and sisters,' which is also fucking weird by the way. So yeah, forgive me if I'm mad at you and all your arrogance."

You weren't looking at anything in particular while you were yelling these things, not really thinking about how you were airing his business out in front of your roommates. When you look at his face again he's... tearing up?

"I... I have to go."

And he's down the hall before you can say anything, wiping at his tears with the sleeves of his sweater.

"Holy shit."

Shadowheart laughs. You're in shock, unsure of why you just said all that. You were kind of mad at him, but you didn't think you'd make him cry or anything.

"Looks like someone finally told him like it is."

You turn around to two girls smiling, finally agreeing on something for once.

"I- is he gonna be okay?"

"Oh, he'll be fine. Probably just a bruised ego. He'll pay to have it fixed like everything else."

Lae'zel laughs at Shadowheart's comment.

"I'm happy we agree on one thing. That man, is a bitch."

You feel... guilty. Something still isn't right. Memories of the night before come into frame, Szarr's hand on his shoulder, Aurelia's comment about 'private business.' No, something is entirely wrong here. But then again, you know these types of things can be far too complex for someone of your level of fame, which is none. So, you simply listen to Shadow and Lae's quips, and the three of you bond in the common room for the morning.

~~~

His phone rings in his pocket when he gets back to his room, out of breath from the sudden emotion he wasn't expecting to feel. How had you seen through him so easily? How had he been so sloppy? Astarion takes the phone out of his pocket.

Cazador

The contact calling him made his skin crawl. He sniffled, trying to clear his nose, and picked up the phone.

"Mhm."

Yes, of course.

Yes, I'll be there.

No.

Why would I lie- yes. No. Yes, I already did.

Alright."

His hands tremble as Cazador hangs up. His memories float to the scathing read you just gave him, and then back to the night before. Without much thought, he tosses his phone, and it lands in the sink of his kitchenette, hitting each side of the aluminum from the strength of his throw. The need to scream, the need to get out, the need to run. And yet he's silent, still, and stagnant. Instead, he lies against an empty wall, making his way to the floor, crumbling into the pain. The never-ending pain.

[cringemomma]

𝖆𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖞

imagine our party entering the Baldurs Gate with all the honors for saving everyone from the shadow curse only to find out that not only civilians were happy to welcome them…

astarion+fem!tav; mature;

“you know, i lived two centuries in this city and i'd never seen those streets in the daylight before. drunk young patriars, naked in the fountains… ah, civilization!.. glad to know that this city can still surprise me!” — you squeezed his hand in reassurance. — “makes me feel agog once again.”

“it's when you use words like 'agog' that I remember you're actually two centuries old.”

“and it's when you think 'agog' is an impressive word that i remember you're just a child.”

“cut it, boys, just look around instead! news really does travel fast nowadays”, — you smirked while looking at all those pomposity that was waiting for you all on your way towards the castle.

the wandering musicians accompanied the newly arrived heroes with a cheerful music, the locals sprinkled you with confetti, flowers and words of thanks, and the street traders were luring the party to their shops offering you generous discounts.

“yeah…”, - the idea of upcoming meeting with his father after all those years was not a delight to warlock’s mind, obviously.

“don’t dwell on past grievances, Wyll. it’s all water under the bridge now! give your ol’man a chance.”

“thanks, Tav, though i doubt he will grant me with one.”

———————————————————————

despite Wyll’s negative predictions, the welcome was truly warm. everyone was having fun whether dancing, drinking or just enjoying small casual talks — all the pros of civilized community. well, almost everyone: poor Halsin was obviously going through his personal hell as he was made to wear gala doublet and tight closed shoes. what a view!

once you were sure that family reunion went smooth, you made your way towards your beloved fanged man, who was waiting for you, passionately observing your figure from a shadow not far from the fourchette table.

“ah, you got me, playing a poster boy has it’s advantages.” — murmured the vampire swirling some fine wine in the glass.

“why am i not surprised to find you exactly nearby the bar?”

“huh, where else i might be?” — as if illustrating his own words, Astarion made a couple of slow tasteful sips of thick burgundy liquid.

“yeah, well, but why it looks like you’re hiding? kind of… cmon, it’s a ball in our honor! i thought you’d be in the center of the hall shocking these noble snowflakes with explicit details of our journey.”

“oh, Tav, darling, don’t get me wrong, i’d be more than happy to do so… but, alas, i’m afraid i am not the only one with such — let it say — vast biography here, thus there might occur some sort of conflict of interests.”

“er…”, — as if you were a dog, you tilted your head on the side not getting what he was implying there.

“ugh, Tav, don’t make me remind you of the things i used to do for that Szarr’s offspring, would you? the thought of coming face to face with a kid that i made an orphan or an old lady that i made a widow way too early makes me sense this disgusting, gut wrenching feeling…” — he paused, not finishing the sentence.

“yeah, guilt, i got you.”

“wonderful, thanks a million for humiliating me with this pitiful word.” — Astarion frowned.

a small smile appeared on your lips.

“lets forget about everything for tonight, what do you think?” — gentle touch of your tender palm has granted the cold spawn’s cheek with some reassuring warmth. — “we’ve got so far and stayed alive not to be bothered by the ghosts of the past. well, we, for sure, can have at least a night for ourselves!

it took you a few more minutes to persuade your capricious white-haired vampire to make a step on the dance floor. and just in time: the orchestra changed the rhythm to a more melodic, signaling to all the gentlemen that it is time for a slow dance.

Astarion’s cold hand found its place on your waist and as the music started flowing throughout the ballroom hall, you — the sweet couple itself — began moving in unison with others.

————————————————————————

“i knew it was a bad idea, Tav…” — his red eyes were nervously wandering among the crowd of staring people.

and he was 100% sure he was the object of their “close attention”.

but you had just rolled your eyes.

“Selune forgive me… i swear to god, Astarion, if you spoil our first presentable dance in a fucking castle, the staring crowd would be your least problem.” — you hissed at him. — “you’re exaggerating, none is paying us extra attention.”

“but…”

“shush!” — you stopped him. — “if you allow me to have one more dance, we will go downstairs and…” — the rest of that amorous ultimatum was cowered with ballroom’s noise, but the sparkle in Astarion’s eyes made it obvious: he found that deal quite fair and worth his public suffering.

and as it was promised, in a few minutes you both were already running down the hall’s stairs, hiding from the servants’ curious eyes in the closest niches, until you came across the dark corridor.

completely without candles and any other form of magical light (just a few moonbeams that found their way trough the boarded up shutters), dust-covered furniture and paintings and the slightest bit of smell of damp — a perfectly abandoned corner for just two of you.

laughing innocently, you wandered down that corridor, marking every corner with passionate open-mouthed kisses, until you stumbled over a nightstand of perfect height and then…

his strong pale arms were shamelessly groping on every plush part of your body, erupting waves of goosebumps all over your skin. never have you ever thought that such cold hands could make you feel that hot.

his lips never completely left your body, if only just making short breaks to whisper (or better say, to moan in despair) some sort of explicit sweet nothings right to your ear. and not forgetting to bite on the earlobe in between, of course.

so now you were seated on that, you hoped, solid nightstand, Astarion standing with his knee between you thighs just right so that your core was granted with so wanted friction; his fists full of your hair and your hopeless moans while you were gridding on his hip and undoing his coat.

and then he pulled you up, connecting your lips and tongues, kissing so hard as if it was the last time.

“pardon, Mademoiselle, i just thought you’d boil my knee with that heat of yours” — half moaned and half groaned the pale elf, painting a hot line with his tongue from your collarbone till your cheek. — “but i have something else you can warm up instead~” — and with those words you felt the hem of your dress lifting up, exposing your left thigh to cool humid air.

you prepared yourself to stand firmly, having vampire’s shoulders as your support. his cold elegant fingers were grasping skin of your inner thigh, you already bit your lip in anticipation, a few inches further and you would feel him touch that hot spot, relieving the built up tension in your lower stomach…

…when suddenly you hear a door slam shut.

you both jumped a bit, turning your heads towards the noise.

the sound of slamming was echoing through the empty corridor.

no other noises.

“maybe just a butler?..” — you whispered, holding on the man’s shoulders even tighter.

Astarion put you down on the floor, adjusting your dress.

you tried to make your messy hair look presentable as if nothing improper ever happened.

the pale elf made an effort to get at least a glimpse of silhouette, but the darkness was greater than his elven vision.

“draft… maybe?” — you tried to reason the situation once again.

“shush”, — he cleared his throat — “er… everything is alright, we’re fine! just having some fun, none is hurt, well, at least for now, ha-ha~” — the last part was added quieter so that only you could hear it.

but there still was no answer.

“we saved the whole damn area from the bloody curse and still can’t get just a couple minutes of privacy? gods!” — annoyingly and sarcastically added Astarion, commenting on the situation.

and then, from the depths of the dark around them he hears the response:

“third, thou shalt not leave my side unless directed.”

and Astarion froze.

he froze in place as he used to do for so many times.

he froze as spawn that heard his master’s disgruntled command.

he froze, looking into darkness — the source of that deadly familiar cold-toned voice.

he froze in place: no sound, no breeze touching his skin — just echo of those words rushing through his head.

if he still had his heart beating, it would stop now.

if his skin was warmer, it would run cold now.

his face froze in a blank expression of horror: eyes wide opened and not blinking, just staring at some spot in the darkness before him, where a pair of two red piercing eyes was now visible.

“Astarion, my boy, you abandoned your family just to play heroes? and you thought you could enter the city without me knowing about it? uh, im offended. always so underestimating of me.”

the dark figure was slowly approaching you, becoming more visible with each step. you could already review that the stranger was tall, dark haired, had a rich suit on, was walking with elegant posture and had those damn bloody red eyes.

but Astarion was just standing as he was before, pure horror on his face.

and realization finally hit you.

you stepped in-front of your man, shielding him with your body and arms:

“do not come closer, you piece of shit, or i will slit your throat open.”

“ah, you got a pet without my permission? ugh, i can smell her all over your body… disgusting.

what did i tell you? first, thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures.”

you threw up your hand, preparing to cast sunbeam:

“i said, step away and leave him be, you moron!” — the more you were losing your temper, the more small sparkles where starting to appear on your palm, threatening to erupt into the powerful ray.

but the man before you ignored it, like you were nothing more than another piece of dust-covered furniture.

“come, boy.” — Cazador ordered.

his strong voice spreading in the hallway as ice-cold echo.

but Astarion remained motionless, still not blinking, though now visibly shaking.

“second, thou shalt obey me in all things.” — you were ready to swear that his eyes sparkled a bit brighter for a second. — “come here, spawn. do not make it more difficult for everyone.”

and the pale elf made a tiny step forward, jolting his body towards his not so former master.

“Astarion, no!” — you shouted, stopping him from going further in the dark. — “sunbeam!”

the bright sunshine erupted and fell hard on the dark figure in-front of you, creating sound of several waves of thunder. but when the light went off, you couldn’t sense anyone else present.

you casted a couple of flying candles to lighten the surroundings, however, you could see only pale elf and the covered furniture around you.

you were not sure if it’s a good thing, though.

but as none else was visibly present down there with two of you, you brought your attention back to the poor man, that was even paler than usual.

“are you okay?” — your voice obviously worried. — “hey, Astarion,” — you placed your trembling but still warm palms on his cheeks, tilting his face towards yours. — “look at me. he’s gone, you’re safe! everything is gonna be alright…”

and he finally obeyed. but as soon as he did so, he froze once again, looking somewhere behind your back.

at the very same moment you sensed it. the cold aura of that deadly monster who was tormenting your lover in his dreams. you did not dare to look back, too scared to find out how exactly close he was, but then you felt a couple of silk-like hair strands touching your bare shoulder.

“over there, i heard it there!” — muffled voices of guards came from behind the closed doors.

“unfortunately, our reunion had come to an end… for now. i just couldn’t not greet you myself, my dear boy.” — the guardians started slamming the door. — “come back home, Astarion, come back home…”

the very moment his piercing voice died in the corridor’s walls, the candles were blown, too, leaving you two in the complete darkness of the empty hallway.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

My love, 

It has come to my attention that you seem to be engaging with the devil once again. You know this as well as I: Raphael cannot be trusted. 

I am not angry with you, but I am angry. Foolish of me to think that I alone could keep you from the devil’s grasp. Foolish of me to think that I might’ve ended him, tearing his heart from his chest. He was always a heartless creature – it would seem he had little need of it anyway. Removing it made it easier for him, I think. It was foolish of me to presume I could take him on alone. 

If I am to remove the threat of Raphael entirely, I must find a way to truly beat him. I cannot match his power – I must transcend it. 

I know that following you to the House of Hope may…complicate things. However, I assure you, you will not be alone. Not if I have anything to say about it. 

Do what you must, my love. I trust you, but I do not trust him. Be smart. Be quick. Strike at the opportune moment – and you might just find the gods blessing you with their favor. 

As much as the picture of Raphael’s beating heart withering away sated my desire to be rid of the devil, I think the thought of you bringing about his destruction fills me much, much deeper. I can show you just how much, when the devil is dealt with. 

Be devastating, my dear. 

Yours Forever,

Gale

Shaking a little as I read this.

Listen to me. Listen close. I am going to walk out of there covered in blood that's not mine.

Nothing fucks with me. Least of all him.

Just don't abandon me when it's all over. Alright?

And for gods' sake, tell Astarion to chill. he's so worried about you. And Karlach's off on a wild goose chase for an imposter, and Shadowheart is convinced I'm going on a DATE with Raphael, ugh- and Lae'zel! Well Lae'zel thinks all you boys should fight to the death. Even Halsin and Wyll got involved.

Lae'zel's wrong. I'm the weak one.

I just want you to stay.

[rielzero]

POV: The adventuring party meets up yearly after the epilogue to talk about their lives.

Loki Wren: So, I realized I really liked rats, and decided to raise them by hand because I thought they were cute- Even if they live short lives, I had to think: What else could befriending those critters bring? Loki Wren: Eventually, after selectively breeding the critters, I've gotten all sorts of quirky results, healthy of course. Its important to improve the lives of the offspring. They are my friends!

Loki Wren: To improve my communication skills and to tame them better, I asked Halsin to teach me a few things- I basicially don't go a day without casting speak with animals.

Loki Wren: Then, one of my nests developed a few prodigy rats, very obedient little pets. They're kind of my children. Started teaching them how to gather information. They're cute tiny spies. Very smart, very adorable.

Loki Wren: Had to neuter a lot of my babies though- You know- Things can get out of hand, one of my favorite sons tried to breed with sewer rats, and I didn't want to upset Astarion again with my obsession over these critters.. Early on he was not very happy with my research.

Loki Wren: My precious boy was angry with me first- but then understood it as if I had given him a new great holy mission: To befriend the sewer Colonies and establish an alliance with them through education.

Loki Wren: [starts laughing, there's a giggle at the end] And now I... [wheezes] Have an army of rats at my full disposal, with emissaries of rats training and teaching each other.. Convinced I am god. They developed an entire culture surrounding me.

Astarion: From ratboy, to ratfather, to Locke- then Loki Wren. And then Ratgod. Who would've thought. [chuckles] And now all in Baldur's Gate adore the critters.

Loki Wren: Anyway, the city is now psyched about pet rats and less eager to kill the sewer rats. My ''divine'' protection. [manical laughter] Of course, they do have territorial disputes. Helps keeping the population at bay.

Loki Wren: I love my rats..

Astarion: Sometimes I wonder if you are a genius or just really enthusiastic about your little hobbies.. Then I realize you are both. Always both.

Loki Wren: So what's everyone else been up to?

Shadowheart: Uh, I learned how to swim. Properly this time.

Karlach: The usual, fighting off fiends. [yawns] I would love to pet some rats though!! Wyll: I hunted a few bounties in Avernus... Nothing out of the ordinary. Seldazr: Published another book, I think Volo's jealous of my success. He's been trying to claim my glass eye is the cause. Not much else?

Gale: I've been trying and failing at modifying a scrying spell... Elminster has been dodging my letters. Lae'zel: Could you overthrow another city with the rats? They're pretty much soldiers already. I'm disappointed you haven't tried yet. Minthara: ..I would like to know as well. I think they'd do well in the underdark. Enough space. They could potentially and easily adapt to the ecosystem in a few generations, reigning terror on the denizens and cultivating with their religion into a functioning society. We've seen it happen many times before..

Loki Wren: ..How do you think the Bhaalists were driven out? They work better as spies.

Halsin: Okay- Thank Silvanus. I was worried you were conscripting them.. From what I've seen in the city itself, life thrives better with less conflict and more equity.

Loki Wren: I AM NOT SENDING MY BABIES TO WAR!!!

Astarion: [sips his drink] Of course not, Darling. Of course not.

Loki Wren: This is why we did not invite Jaheira for our repeated reunions, next thing you know she's ruining everything with her paranoia....

Meanwhile back in Baldur's gate

Jaheira: [holds up a pet rat that has no fur] Who's my little Minsc baby- who's my little baby boy??? Yes you are. You are. [scritches the rat]

Rion: Ugh.. Jord: :(

[thedragonagelesbian]

"You had better have something good, devil. We sacrificed a lot taking care of your little problem."

"Oh, yes, your sanguineous angel, but that hardly counts as 'a lot', does it? For a man who barters away his body in the drip-drip-drips of blood, death is a triviality-- provided that it aids those around him. That is why you chose him, is it not?"

Astarion doesn't want to think about it-- Raphael's words or the events that inspired them. He wants to be relieved to finally know Cazador's plans, or angry to still be bound to his master's will. He should be indulging in whatever emotion feels most pleasurable after their grueling fight with the orthon and its hard-won prize, but he can't. Pacing the camp in long, sweeping strides, those words echo in his head, and every time he blinks, he's there again. The cavern of carrion and a bloody fallen angel at its heart, wings of serrated steel lifting off a fraction of a moment too late before the bombs at his feet lit him up.

Cyrus apologized, when Astarion's hands and voice stopped trembling long enough to use the scroll of revivify. Gasping back to life, and the first thing he did with the new air in his lungs was say how sorry he was for going down. He didn't care how much he hurt, just that someone else might've gotten hurt instead while he was down.

He never cares--not in the orthon's lair, not when he let Astarion drain him dry at the start of their travels together--so why should Astarion?

Hells, nothing has come of choosing Cyrus anyway. Cyrus would be just as willing to die for him if they were friends, strangers, even enemies (if Minthara's presence in their camp is any indication) instead of lovers.

And they aren't. That. The night that Last Light fell, Astarion found Wyll standing vigil over Cyrus' bound, thrashing form, and he realized that he could never give Cyrus what he needed, what he deserved-- a fairy tale prince to sweep him off his feet and keep him safe even from himself.

And now, Cyrus never has to know. The plan, the pointless sex, the needless manipulation, that brief stretch of time when Astarion dared to hope that there might've been a kinder purpose to it all, Cyrus doesn't need to know any of it. Better just to let the plan--the relationship--die quietly.

So why did he feel so godsdamn guilty?!

He's so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn't realize someone has left their tent and joined him until he hears his name: "Astarion?"

Flinching, Astarion turns and reaches for a knife. Maybe he should hold on to that panic when he sees Cyrus--remember how he writhed and snarled at Wyll's feet? how he screams and seethes in battle, every scarred inch a barbarian?--but the fear floods from him with a huff. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I heard footsteps." The elven aasimar gives a shrug, and then a wince he can't quite smother. "Are you alright?"

"Am I...? You're the one who's barely standing."

"Is that sulphur?" Cyrus looks around the camp as if Astarion hasn't said anything. "Was Raphael here? Did he tell you about your scars?"

Astarion scoffs. "Oh, no, darling, I am not having a conversation about the thing that will decide my fate forever more when you are too exhausted to be appropriately concerned."

"I am concerned! Appropriately so."

Obstinate ass that he is, Cyrus just keeps staring at Astarion with that wide-eyed frown of his, enormous and pleading, and Astarion has no choice but to sigh. "Ugh, very well, maybe I'll tell you, but only if you go back to your bedroll right now."

Cyrus tries to protest again, but as he crosses his arms, he adjusts his posture in such a way that makes his face tighten again. Casting his eyes downward, he mutters, "...Fine."

Together, they duck into Cyrus' tent, sparsely furnished save for some weapons, the odd mushroom or herb he's collected, and a few spare medicinal vials. While Cyrus sits down, Astarion grabs one of them-- the paste of lavender and valerian that Halsin brews to help Cyrus trance.

"And if you actually rest after this."

Cyrus rolls his eyes, a rare display of cattiness that only manifests when someone is worried about him (Astarion will never admit how much he enjoys provoking it). "Leave it to the former magistrate to add conditions at the last moment. Fine, yes, I'll try to trance soon."

Astarion opens the pot, and Cyrus gives a small nod, so he moves in close-- closer than they've been in a while. Cyrus used to come to his tent every evening with his neck bared, all too eager to give and give and give, and the only reason he stopped was because he was afraid of hurting the next person who came too near. But he doesn't stop Astarion now as he dips his fingers into the salve and brings them to Cyrus' temple. His skin is as Astarion remembers it, a burning fever pitch beneath the cold marble of his own. He rubs the poultice in gently, and he doesn't miss the way that Cyrus leans into his touch.

Moving to the other temple, Cyrus stifles a grimace. The blood and ash may have washed away, but there's still a gnarled bruise set just below his blind eye, and probably countless more beneath his tunic. A half dozen new scars too, all the evidence of everything he's bled away as if it didn't mean anything to him.

Does it mean anything to him?

"You're hopeless," Astarion says suddenly.

Cyrus responds with a smile, thin but undeniable. "You've said that before."

"Well, I wouldn’t have to keep saying it if you didn’t keep slicing yourself open every chance you get." The metal of his wings, the sigils of blood carved into his skin, his sword every morning cutting his stomach to sheathe the blade in holy light.

Cyrus twists away from him at that. "It doesn't hurt so much once you get used to it."

Astarion's thoughts flicker to Araj. To the hundreds of nights spent over the centuries willing his mind away from his body. He should've thanked Cyrus for it sooner, but he didn't want the conversation to drift to their relationship. He still doesn't (doesn't he?), but as he grabs a rag to clean the salve from his hand, he feels the ring around his finger-- the one enchanted to pass his suffering along to Cyrus, because apparently his own burdens aren't enough to shoulder alone, he has to take on Astarion's too, even if it kills him, and it has killed him, and he doesn't even care, damn him damn him!

"Don't lie to yourself, darling." He yanks the ring off of his finger. "And take this back."

Cyrus furrows his brow again. "You don't want it anymore?"

"I never wanted it. I can protect myself, you know." When Cyrus doesn't take it, Astarion grabs his hand and presses the ring into his palm. "You're the one who's always standing with one foot in the grave."

"I've only died a couple of times." Cyrus' tone shifts, not merely concerned but defensive, proud, like he wants someone to pat him on the head and tell him what a good job he's done martyring himself.

Astarion's grip tightens, skin prickling.

"A couple more than the rest of this damn party."

"One of those times was your fault!"

"It was your fault!"

It's quiet in the tent after that.

"You could have stopped me." Astarion doesn't know when his throat clenched up so tight, or why he can't look Cyrus in the eye anymore, but the words are strained and his gaze is affixed to their hands. Cyrus' are much more interesting to look at-- freckled, scarred, split crimson across the back and stained red at the tips of his fingers, and Astarion remembers how they closed around him as he lapped up the last dregs of Cyrus' life. "Spoken up, thrown me off if I didn't listen, plunged a stake into my heart, even," he probably would've deserved it, "but you didn't. You just sat there and let me... Why didn't you stop me?"

"Why would I?" The response comes hollow and hoarse. "You needed my blood, what did I care if you took all of it?" Astarion wants to tell him the truth--that he cares, even if Cyrus doesn't--but the words won't come, windpipe clotted with everything he does (doesn't) want to say, confession and betrayal in equal measure, so he just sits there while Cyrus folds in on himself, nails biting at his back. "It's not... real. My body, it's never felt like it's mine. It's just... something to give away, to make up for— for the rest of it. The urges in my head."

"...My body hasn't been mine in two centuries. Like everything else, it belonged to Cazador, sent out to lure pretty things back to his estate. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered." He risks a glance up at Cyrus. His mismatched eyes, scarlet and storm, burn with a kindness Astarion hasn't received in a lifetime. "When you stood up for me in front of that vile blood merchant, you showed me that it doesn't have to be that way anymore. That I'm not just a means to an end." He wants to pull Cyrus close enough to feel his pulse, that fierce but fragile heart that someone needs to protect because Cyrus certainly isn't going to do it himself. "It doesn't have to be like that for you either."

Now Cyrus won't look at him. Maybe blowing up hurts worse than blood loss because instead of deflecting, he murmurs, "I... I'm not sure what else there is."

"Neither am I..." Astarion realizes he's still holding Cyrus' hand, and he brushes his thumb across his knuckles, savoring this last touch. "I thought once, maybe, we could have found out together," he pulls his hands away, "but you deserve something better."

"What do you mean?"

"...That I feel awful." There's no avoiding it now, so Astarion swallows thickly and continues. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy, instinctive, and you were eager for intimacy after that unfortunate incident with the bard." His stomach curdles, seeing the fear that always flits across Cyrus' face at the mention of Alfira, that same fear he took advantage of when Cyrus dropped to his knees and whispered that all he wanted was to prove his hands were good for something other than murder. "But my nice, simple plan fell apart, and now... now, you should have something real."

Something with someone else.

Cyrus doesn't respond at first, blinking, processing, he reaches up to touch his neck. Though Astarion hasn't fed for him in days, the marks have been there since that first night. Will be there forever. "'Real'?" he echoes with a small, dry laugh. "What is 'real'? All I have is this tadpole and this damned headache... I really wish you hadn't..." He rakes his hand through his hair. Astarion has always wondered what it would feel like under his fingers, not grasping Cyrus' skull as he bleeds him but gently braiding and unbraiding the thick strands. "I was so scared that night. Did it really mean nothing to you?"

"Of course it meant something-- that's the problem. Or part of it... I don't know what 'real' is either. Being close to someone--any kind of intimacy--used to be something I performed. Maybe it could have been different with you, but..."

"But...?" Astarion doesn't want to say it aloud: that things had been over for them since before they ever began, from the moment he was too greedy to stop drinking. "Astarion, I still care about you."

So when Cyrus says that, it batters him as surely as any shield or hammer.

"...Really?"

Astarion doesn't need air anymore, but he holds his breath anyway, watching Cyrus watch him, and he remembers what the other elf said when he found him staring at an empty mirror: I see you.

Cyrus lunges. Astarion stiffens, almost recoiling, but then Cyrus' arms close around him. His body is sunlight, enveloping and warm and hard, muscles tight and protective. Always so damn protective... but Astarion feels the shudder when he returns the hug. How Cyrus softens as Astarion presses himself close. All the strength required to endure so much pain, it melts away, and what's left is raw. Tender. Real.

Cyrus buries himself in Astarion's neck. Astarion wonders if it helps with the headache, flame against ice. He's never thought to ask before now. "I don't care what we are or what we do, but I care about you. Please keep the ring."

"I will-- Cyrus." He can't remember the last time he called Cyrus by name, but he savors the syllables now, a caress of a whisper. Perhaps the only caress he'd ever want. "...Please rest."

Astarion doesn't know how to ask for the rest of it yet-- maybe it wouldn't be fair, to ask Cyrus to stop sacrificing himself when they still have a world to save, but he can ask for this, for now, for Cyrus to let himself be at some kind of peace.

"For you.... With you."

[blackjackkent]

Look, game, this was YOUR idea. "Are you sure?" No, of course I'm not, but I don't have any choice, do I?

[sigh]

Anyway of course we jump into the hole.

Narrator: The hole yawns back at you, impossibly wide - a single tentacle burrowed through stone.

-----

Hector and company survey the hole for a long moment.

"Boy," Karlach says after a while. "And I was wondering why Jaheira didn't want to join us for this bit."

Wyll toes the edge of the mucusy membrane lining the tunnel with an expression of distaste. "Ugh. What a mess. This is the worst thing we've ever done, and that's saying something."

"Is there seriously no other way down?" Karlach asks.

"No other that we can be sure leads to the tentacle's root," Hector answers. He's not happy about it either, but what else can they do but go forward?

"Well," murmurs Shadowheart from behind him. "You're the one of us sacrificing the most; you're the only one of us with short sleeves."

Hector turns his head and is mildly surprised to see the faintest ghost of a smile on her face. She has barely spoken since they left the temple and the haunted look still sits heavily in her eyes - but the smile, weak as it is, feels good to see.

He grins back ruefully. "Oh, believe me, I am acutely aware of the amount of mucus that is about to be all over me."

"Sexy," mutters Karlach teasingly.

Hector rolls his eyes at her, then turns and looks back at the pit again. With a sudden, sharp motion, not giving himself time to second-guess it, he leaps, his feet hitting the mucusy slope of the walls and sliding him away into the dark.

-----

He is, indeed, entirely covered in mucus by the time he hits the bottom of the tower, but really that's the least of his concerns. Next highest on the list is the fact that he landed on his rear and his tailbone now hurts like hell in addition to the rest of him.

But highest by a wide margin is that they're back in the oubliette.

This dark, blood-red area lined with pulsating flesh is all too terribly familiar. In their last accidental fall into it, they were lucky enough to be able to scramble out fairly quickly, but he has a feeling they're much deeper into it now, and escape will not be so easy.

We are committed - one way or another, he thinks grimly.

"This must be where they harvest the tadpoles," whispers the dream guardian in his mind. "We're close to the source of the infections."

Wyll is looking around with a keen expression in his eyes. "I wager that devil I'm meant to rescue is somewhere near."

Hector isn't quite sure what gives him that impression, to be honest. He would have thought it much more likely that they would have found the devil in the prisons they initially raided, rather than down here in this flesh pit. But it's possible, he supposes. Certainly nothing would surprise him at this point.

There's a low echoing rumble of a voice occasionally bursting out, resonating through the flesh around them. It's the voice of the Absolute. He remembers that spine-rattling vibration -- more or less female, brutally loud, overwhelming -- from his brief moment in its grasp before.

"Tread carefully," the guardian whispers to him. "We are very close to the source of the Absolute now. That telepathic storm has become a tempest."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Hector murmurs, drawing a brief, hoarse laugh from Karlach and Wyll.

[riddlerosehearts]

this time in my baldur's gate 3 playthrough, i finish wyll's personal quest and have a lot of thoughts about him! which mainly boil down to: larian did him very dirty, and i'm sad about it because i wanted to be able to love his story more. i try to be concious of the way that fandom as a whole is very biased against black characters, and as a lover of fairytales and disney movies i think the fact that wyll is just genuinely good and kind the whole time and is basically like if a disney prince became a warlock is cool! i think that's an awesome concept and larian could've done so much more with him, because i don't believe that characters need to be edgy and morally gray to be interesting and complex! but i feel like the writers themselves were biased against wyll because his story is so lacking in polish and so underwhelming adkjsfghf. i'll just have to choose to seek out fanworks that expand on the potential he had. anyway. rest of my thoughts are below the cut as usual.

the iron throne mission was very nervewracking lol but in a fun way!! it took me multiple tries to get my strategy figured out, and i ended up bringing several elemental summons to help do the fighting and misty step/dimension door scrolls to help everyone get around. thank god omeluum had a spell that could teleport gale out of there, because i was worried he wasn't going to make it and i'd have to try again when i was so close to finally saving all the prisoners. and i did save them all, though again it was a close call with some of them! i just wish i would've been also able to read the notes and such that i saw around.

got jumpscared by the waveservants coming to attack us for siding with redhammer, and then uhhh, redhammer died during the battle and now i feel bad :( i mean, i tried to keep him alive but he did not exactly make it easier by running directly toward the enemies and trying to fight them!

oh well. i'll have to try harder to keep him safe on another playthrough. i think it's a huge shame that you only get that sexy robe if you side with the waveservants though... i need to mod it into my game later. for science.

DAMN DOES ULDER REALLY HAVE TO BE SO MEAN TO WYLL... i mean, okay, i guess i can understand that he didn't have any idea what really happened between wyll and mizora, but i wish he could've had a bit more faith in his son instead of calling him a monster. ugh i just feel so bad for wyll, but i really am glad they finally got a chance to patch things up.

next, i went to the steel watch foundry and had gale take the lead in sneaking our way through the gates with magic... except we got caught by the steel watcher and wyll--who for some reason became the controlled character there even though i definitely had gale selected to cast fog cloud and knock?--lied to it and convinced it that it let us in. after that i got extremely annoyed by the combat lol. the fight on the main floor was really easy, but the one in the basement? i hope you didn't need to save all the gondians, because i tried so many times and ended up just giving up... in the end, only two of them (aside from zanner toobin) had the brain cells to stay up above instead of suicidally misty stepping into the face of every enemy, so those were the only two who survived. why does the AI keep being like this lmao??

there are a lot of hints about what the iron throne even is and how to get there scattered around the foundry, so i'm guessing the story does expect you to come here first! it's fun to explore this area and try to find all the lore tidbits they've scattered around. the steel watchers being controlled by tadpole-infected brains was a total surprise to me and so was being able to actually try and control them yourself. i tried to save the innocent people the watchers were attacking, but my poor low WIS tav just couldn't do it :( i also found... bernard's head?? for some reason, it says "extract", but when i click on that it doesn't do anything. that's really interesting, though--i wish we were able to learn more about lenore.

wulbren is literally such a jackass and does not deserve barcus. i want to yeet him into the ocean. i'm so proud of barcus for standing up for himself, taking over as lead of the ironhands, and telling wulbren to fuck off!!

OH YEAH I FINALLY REMEMBERED to look up a video of the glitched convo about gale's last name. being able to tell him you like gale dekarios better than gale of waterdeep, and the way he responds to that, is soooo rapunzel and eugene coded i'm 🥺🥺🥺 i want to see people make tangled AUs with gale and their tavs now.

i think elenion is reeeeeally skeptical of this whole "staking the future of baldur's gate on a legendary tale" thing and does not believe ansur actually exists, but i suppose he'll seen crazier shit by now so he'll just go with it!

the trials were fun to figure out, and i liked that wyll and gale both had comments on some of them!! wyll offers his help with the trial of justice and comments that he has little experience with lanceboard, and gale gets all excited when you walk up to the lanceboard trial ajksdghdfkjgss he's so cute. he also literally just tells you exactly what to do on that one. thank you gale i love you 💜💜

I GENUINELY WAS NOT WHAT HAPPENED WITH ANSUR THOUGH WHAT!!! i was expecting wyll to get to befriend a dragon and have him as a helper in the final battle but i've gotta admit that was an interesting twist and a fun battle. i'm unsurprised that the emperor is balduran, though, mostly because i've already seen people talk about it, but also they kind of... pretty much say it in the song of balduran?? or at least they heavily hint at it, by including the line "transformed, he fell their thrall". what i am surprised at is ansur x balduran toxic yaoi lmao whaaaat 😭 there's a letter on ansur's body that says "even if i'm not beside you, i will always have been your balduran"... can't believe i'm sad about them now.

augh, the choice of whether or not to encourage wyll to become the grand duke made me feel so torn tbh because like... first of all, i already knew about the blade of avernus ending, and that it's (from what i've heard at least) positioned as his good ending while becoming the duke is positioned as his bad ending akin to everyone else's ascensions, and i know karlach will die if wyll doesn't go to avernus with her. but my character doesn't know any of that! and i genuinely think joining his father to help rebuild the city rather than running around as a vigilante in the hells sounds like a good ending for wyll, as a way for him to do a lot of overall good for others and resolve his issues with his dad by working alongside him? i also think it's what elenion would tell him to do, if only the dialogue options for it weren't all like "think of the power you'll yield!" because they would not fucking say that unless they meant "the power you'll be able to yield to help the people of baldur's gate". man. idk. at least this time, unlike when it came to what to do with his pact, there's an option to trust wyll to make his own choice. so... i chose that. he chose on his own to become the blade of avernus. guess that's that, then.

i'm also just. really underwhelmed by wyll's personal quest in general though ugh 😭 listen i have had wyll in my party for the entire fucking game. his introduction was just so cool that i was instantly drawn to him and never let him leave my party and in my head i roleplayed him and elenion becoming best friends. i love him but his story is just really missing something... the conclusions to shadowheart and astarion's personal quests were so cathartic and made me really emotional but wyll's just Didn't. and i feel like they could've and should've done so much more with it, i mean, he's the son of the grand duke of baldur's gate!!! the game i am playing is called baldur's gate 3!!! i also think it's really weird that he's so torn up about ansur, but not about fucking balduran?? wyll, did you not notice that your hero is the evil mindflayer that lied to all of us and has been causing us trouble for the entire game?? hello?? it just felt like this entire final part of his quest was more about developing the emperor's character than about him. sigh.

i think the ansur stuff could've felt a bit more like it was about wyll if, like, he could ask to be the one to do the trials like how shadowheart can ask you to let her offer her blood at the gauntlet of shar and you get approval from letting her, because then the trials of ansur get to be about him proving his own worthiness as a hero and leader... and if maybe he was automatically selected for the conversation with ansur instead of letting your character do that, and if he had significantly more dialogue and reactivity to all of it.

anyway. going to end this post here, and then it's time to go fuck up gortash and head into the final battle and the epilogue!

[thessalian]

Faerun!Alisaie vs Mild Sidetracks

But first, a word from the Flirtation Station

Lae'zel: I would have you in my bed.

Alisaie: Um ... on my plane we start with a nice glass of wine or something? Not ... you know, being rude and insulting? That's going to stay with me.

Lae'zel: Your loss. You will think of me and yearn.

Alisaie: Projecting much?

Lae'zel: ...Perhaps. Yes. Shut up.

Gale: Come check out the Weave with me!

Alisaie: *saturates the Weave with friendship*

Gale: ...Aww...

Shadowheart: ...Sooooo ... I thought maybe...

Alisaie: YES.

Shadowheart: ...That's ... gratifying, but ... we're a little public.

Alisaie: Fair. I just wanted to make sure you knew I have a type.

Shadowheart: And ... that would be...?

Alisaie: Dark-haired serious ones with well-hidden softer sides and the occasional reach into adorkable?

Shadowheart: ..........ilikenightorchids...

Alisaie: Hint. Taken.

Wyll: ...So if I hadn't been so cagey about the dancing thing...?

Alisaie: The world may never know.

Karlach: ...Look, I'd have tried, but I think you probably don't want third-degree burns in places, okay?

Alisaie: Look, whatever happens, we will get that fixed. For now ... you don't hurt yourself, do you?

Karlach: *blush that is nearly impossible to see but threatens to set fire to her tent*

Alisaie: Oh shit right you get kerboomy when excited forget I said anything.

Karlach: Already having the mental images and I think I'mma jump in the lake.

Alisaie: Anywaaaaaaay...

Lake: *gives off HUGE billow of steam*

Alisaie: I'm going to collect some people to go confront Kagha while things calm down...

One successful trip to the Emerald Grove and a side-quest later...

Astarion: Honestly, did you have to do that? You take all the trouble of taking me along to a criminal hideout and then you buy someone's freedom.

Alisaie: Look, you got decent armour out of it; shut up.

Shadowheart: It's not as if she paid the going rate, Astarion.

Wyll: Nor did she respond to the cheek of him asking for drinking money after that.

Alisaie: I mean, honestly, I kind of wanted to blow the whole place up around their ears as I left but-- *winces* Ugh.

Wyll: Ugh; not feeling so well either...

Lae'zel: *grabs Alisaie; puts a blade to her throat* It begins; I will end it.

Alisaie: You ... really don't deal with rejection well, do you?

Lae'zel: Wh-what? No! I mean ... I still have great respect for you! That is why I do this; I am sparing you!

Alisaie: Look, we spent awhile recently wandering a putrid bog; it's probably that. Tone down the murder, please.

Lae'zel: ......Fine. I respect you enough to trust your judgement; mine is clouded at present. Rest. Be assured that I will end it if the turning truly begins.

Alisaie: ...Well, there's a recipe for never sleeping again...

After a bit of dreamscape or whatever

Alisaie: Okay, I have gathered us all up again to talk about last night. Hands up who had the dream about the guardian being saying they wouldn't let us turn into illithids.

Entire Party: *raises hands*

Alisaie: Hands up who wants to describe the guardian being and/or divulge specifics of what they said.

Entire Party: *lowers hands*

Alisaie: Figured. Hands up who's chill about the "learn tadpole powers to save the worlds - as in plural worlds" thing.

Astarion: *raises hand*

Everyone Else: *vacilates dubiously*

Alisaie: Yeah, figured. We'll try to keep it to a minimum but seriously? This is all weird so while I want us to proceed with caution, the occasional poke might be vaguely okay. And the minute we get solid proof that the worlds are in danger if we don't do the thing, all bets are off.

Astarion: ...You got altruism in my quest for power, darling. Most unfair.

Alisaie: Live with it. And be grateful I'm not taking you to deal with the hag. Though honestly there's something I want to do first.

Scratch: *approaches with ball in his mouth*

Alisaie: Okay, fine, two things I want to do first. *chugs a Speak With Animals potion* Yes, Scratch, we can play fetch.

Scratch: Yay!

And, a little later

Wyll: You actually want to talk to the dead man?!?

Alisaie: I mean, those redcaps we murdered probably got the brothers? But I want to know if something else out there is worse than those.

Dead Brother: Not ... sheep...

Alisaie: Wait ... they were baa-ing and seemed to think we should-- They looked like sheep to you?!?

Wyll: I suppose they didn't see through the illusion as we did.

Dead Brother: Don't ... drink ... the water...

Alisaie: *looks at horrible putrid bog* You think?!? Look, just ... tell me if there's anyone I have to tell what happened to you; do you have any family?

Dead Brother: Mother ... brother ... sister ... and soon ... a niece.

Alisaie: ............

Wyll: Oh dear. I know that look.

Alisaie: I have a feeling that lady promised her baby in exchange for resurrecting her husband and it's going to come out ugly and ... yeah, no, why are people this stupid? Some bardic tales are fucking cautionary! Glad Astarion isn't here for this insane act of altruism; let's go.

Wyll: If ... if the world doesn't accept me as I am now? Alisaie? You are Blade of the Frontiers now.

Alisaie: Nope! I will spin epic tales of how you protected an abused refugee at the expense of your very physical form, and how the transformation harrowed your soul with torment, and how it only made you more determined to fight for those who can't fight for themselves, and you'll keep your title. And somewhere in there I am going to get Mizora to give up that pact if I have to make her fucking eat it. Come on; Team Dangerous Company goes to be Big Damn Heroes!

Wyll: .........I never thought I'd actually meet the living embodiment of stubbornness.

Gale: *pats Wyll's shoulder* Just be glad she's on our side.

[prismatic-starstuff]

now, i'm not saying everyone has to like the same characters i like, of course! if you don't vibe with the emperor then that's 100% fine! but i'm not talking about folks who just don't like it, i'm talking about folks who viscerally dislike it and think it's, like, the true big bad or the worst most awful most evil being to ever be. it's just... not any of those things!

the emperor is only a dick to you if you go out of your way to be a dick to it; and that's bearing in mind that some of the dialogue options for being a dick to the emperor are... really cruel. like, the amount of chances we're given to essentially say 'you're a mind flayer so i inherently hate you, stop pretending to have feelings, you have no soul' is. a lot. and it's not even evil; it actively has to be talked into dominating the netherbrain for its (your) own ends. even withers, staunch advocate of the Mind Flayers Have No Souls Club, mentions how the emperor does legitimately retain some of its human personality; so there is absolutely no reason to believe that it was lying when it said it felt sentimental about its old hideout, about belynne, about us.

'but the emperor lied to you about—' look, i am not saying this to insult them, i am deeply attached to all of these characters, but: astarion lied by omission to you about being a vampire, shadowheart lied by omission to you about being a shar worshipper, wyll lied by omission to you about mizora, gale lied by omission to you about the orb. every one of these characters is, usually, given grace about these things; they withheld this information to protect themselves, because they feared judgement, because they thought they'd be cast out or turned away or killed. same with the emperor; plenty of folks would have just killed it for being a mind flayer, and it couldn't let that happen because 1) it doesn't want to die and 2) it's trying to deal with the netherbrain.

'it lied to you about stelmane' nnnnnope. it outright says they had a different type of relationship than the expected one. it doesn't lie. sure, it doesn't tell the whole truth; but it doesn't ever actively lie. and it's honest when it tells you its relationship with you is different; and like i said before, there's no reason to believe it doesn't or can't have actual feelings for you.

'it didn't tell you about ansur' why would it feel the need to mention 'by the way, i had an ex who tried to kill me after i became a mind flayer'

i just. ugh. again, disliking the emperor is 100% fine and valid! i just wish some folks who dislike it would dislike it for reasons that are in the game, and aren't misinterpretation or outright false information amsmdkcnaldm

today, i'm thinking really hard about folks who really, really strongly dislike the emperor von bg3. because i'm playing rn, and for roleplay reasons i had to turn down its romantic advances - sorry daisy, astarion this playthrough and you next playthrough - and it was... so cool about everything? it apologised, acknowledged that now wasn't the time, and moved on to other subjects; no weirdness about it.

like... for someone who's so manipulative about getting what it wants, for someone who's so bad in every regard, it was exceptionally chill about being told 'sorry bud i'm actually happy with things as they were.'

it's almost like some folks are unnecessarily cruel to the emperor and just see it a certain way because they want it to be that certain way!

[ryttu3k]

#it's really funny having him as a companion bc he is such a main character archetype #like in a rypical high fantasy he would be a perfect lead to bring the the cast together and be teh druving force for the plot #and ofc he is the main chacter of hisbstory but its funny with Tav to fill that place instead #wyll is my friend and the only person my Tavs trust to help guide the group along lol #its like his hero persona is both an act a choice an aspiration #its who he wabts to be and how he defies mizora despite everything she puts him through #and his overly flowery language and hero boasting in act 1 one is so funny #it is kinda insufferable but also buddy i see that you rehersed that #relax you dont have to impress me #sth about wyll's sense of self and how he shapes it by stories he tells and projects outward #and how it gets confronted by his fiendish transformation #ugh i am thinking about wyll again

Agreed, and I think he takes on the mask of The Blade of Frontiers! so hard because he almost doesn't want to acknowledge all the pain and trauma he's survived. It's so much easier just to wear the mask and bury any pain. Of course The Blade would sacrifice his soul to save the father that exiled him as a newly-disabled teenager, that's what A Hero would do! If he's The Blade, he doesn't have to think about being Wyll, because then he'd have to acknowledge... *waves hand* all of that.

A lot of the characters have masks, acknowledged or just implied. Astarion puts on a facade of being the seductive, charismatic vampire who would love ;) to get to know ;) you ;), when that's genuinely the last thing he'd want. Shadowheart tries so hard to be the perfect emotionless Cleric of Loss when she really feels so much. Gale outright asks a romanced player why they'd want Gale Dekarios when they could have The Wizard of Waterdeep.

Karlach is a really good foil for him because she knows and rejects her mask of the Scourge of Avernus as soon as she can. She's absolutely delighted just to be Karlach, and I think that's a big part of Wyll ultimately potentially learning to just be Wyll, choosing to save her instead of Slaying The Devil, learning prioritise himself for once in ultimately rejecting Mizora's deal.

Anyway I think he should be allowed to go batshit for a bit. As a treat.

I think when people dismiss wyll as being the Normal Guy companion they are overlooking a key piece of his character which is that yeah he's pretty normal in comparison to the rest of these messes but have u considered how much Effort it would take to stay that normal while putting up with mizora every day of your life. This guy isn't normal because he's boring, he's normal because he has moral fortitude rivaling that of every god. The fact that he's still so normal after what 9 years of being trapped in an insane psychosexual torment nexus is a HEROIC ACHIEVEMENT. This one will only make sense to the disco elysium fans out there but Wyll's volition stat is through the fucking roof. Nothing can shake this guy and it's not through luck or chance it is through more strength of character than any other person ever born. Wyll ravengard u will always be famous